And it was supposed to be a quiet day for once.

Jim slouched in his seat, tapping his fingers against his thigh as he waited. It had been five minutes since Ryan had told him to go into the conference room so they could speak alone. He didn’t know what was taking Ryan so long, but he was getting tired of waiting already. Sure, it was possible he was only annoyed because it was the big hotshot keeping him sitting around instead of, well, anyone else, but that was besides the point.

Pam didn’t even know what was going on, if the confused look she shot him when she “happened” to find a reason to pass by the glass of the window was any indication. It was that part of it that made him nervous, truthfully – usually she was the hub of information, and if she didn’t know, Michael probably didn’t either. And if Michael didn’t know, and Ryan was involved, it probably wasn’t a good sign.

“Thank you for waiting,” Ryan said, curtly, snapping Jim out of his thoughts. He folded his arms across his chest, looking at him with a wary expression.

“Yeah, I just love sitting in here,” he replied evenly. The sarcastic undertone either flew over Ryan’s head or he chose to ignore it.

“I’m going to be straight with you,” he said, placing his briefcase on the desk and sat down. He folded his hands on the table. “As I’m sure you are aware, in three days there will be a very important convention for this company in New York City. This branch and a few others were chosen to be representatives for us.”

How could Jim forget? It meant three days of having to constantly discuss paper with people. Pam had to promise rewards after the event in exchange for his own promise not to stab himself in the face with the nearest sharp object during it. He was still on the fence about taking her offer, as tempting as her terms were. She didn’t know how bad it got.

“Yeah, I heard something like that. Are you here to tell me I’m going? Because Michael told me that two days ago,” he explained, quirking an eyebrow. He barely managed to quell his need to add ‘unfortunately’.

Ryan ignored the question. “And I am sure you have also noticed Michael’s…erratic behavior recently. While this branch does have the best salesman in the company and therefore received the invitation, we believe Michael may be…counterproductive.”

“So you’re saying we’re not going,” Jim clarified, flatly. Yet again, he had no idea why he was being told this. He wasn’t going to be the one to tell Michael. He wasn’t going to do the man’s dirty work.

“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head with an almost condescending smile. Jim kept his face devoid of expression. “I only said Michael. You will be going, as is Dwight.”

Jim just sat there, staring at him, realizing he had just been dragged into the conflict between his boss and Ryan in a blink of an eye. He had been doing so good staying out of it, too. “You’re joking.”

Ryan shook his head. That smile was still there, and Jim hated him (and it) a little bit more. “I would not joke about something this important. I will inform Michael of this and I expect to see the two of you bright and early the first morning for a meeting.”

“And if I refuse?” he asked, before he realized he said it. He didn’t want to do this to Michael. The guy had had a rough time lately, enough to even garner Jim’s sympathy. He had been looking forward to the thing since he heard about it, too.

Ryan clearly did not approve of the answer. “You don’t have a choice, Jim. You are the standing assistant regional manager, and it is your job to step in when the regional manager cannot do a task or Corporate says there’s an issue.”

Jim’s jaw set, eyes narrowing slightly. As much as he wanted to argue, he could see it wasn’t going to get him anywhere. It was obvious by the way he was talking that it wasn’t just his decision, though Jim didn’t put it past the other man to get the thought rolling. Ryan waited, patiently, and he realized he was even going to force him to give in to his instruction.

“…Fine,” he replied, forcing himself to have an even expression again.

The smile appeared again. “Excellent. I knew we could count on you.”

The rest of the day mostly included a lot of yelling and then, then eventual dead silence as Michael shut himself in his office for the rest of the day. Everyone knew better than to bother him. Jim hated he felt partially responsible for what was going on, even though he had no way of controlling it. Michael stalked out at the end of the day without saying much to anyone, and Jim just knew this was part one of a very, very long weekend.

It was later that Pam was sprawled out on his bed, one ear phone bud in her ear and his iPod in her hand. She had come over to help him pack, but it ended up being packing-plus-dinner-plus-a-movie. Which actually was nice, all things considered, just not very productive.

“What are you listening to?” he asked, as he packed his ‘best’ outfit.

She glanced up at him, then offered an earbud. “The Shins. Want to listen?”

He grinned, shaking his head. “Unlike some people, I need to pack. I thought you were helping, by the way.”

“I am,” she corrected, sitting up. “What do you think I’m doing?”

He raised an amused brow. “Sitting around and listening to my music?”

She shook her head. “No no no. I’m cheerleading the effort. You’re doing a great job folding.”

He rolled his eyes, biting back a laugh. “Really.”

It was only then she sat up, stretching her arms over her head. She put the iPod aside and stood up, heading over to his dresser. It took him a second to realize why he heard her snickering quietly. He turned, folding his arms across his chest.

“What did I tell you about raiding my underwear drawer?” he asked, mock-annoyed.

“What? I’m helping!” she insisted, lifting out a pair of boxer-briefs with lips on it. He had that thing stuffed in the farthest reaches of the drawer for a reason. “Lips, Jim? Really? Why haven’t you worn this for me yet? You’re missing opportunities to seduce me.”

“They were a gag gift from years ago,” he explained, heading over to her. He gently plucked them from her hands. “And I prefer other techniques, that’s all.”

“Other techniques, huh?” she asked. “Like what?”

He just smiled, hands settling on her waist. He pulled her to him, leaning down to press his mouth against hers. It didn’t take long for her to reach up and tangle her fingers in his hair. He leaned his forehead against hers once he pulled away.

“You should come with me. We’re getting separate rooms,” he murmured. “Not tomorrow, obviously, because there’s still work, but over the weekend. I don’t have anything to do at night…we could see the sights.”

She bit her lip, looking a little hesitant, and Jim immediately worried he was coming on too strong or something. He was about to backtrack when she spoke again. “I just…I have a painting I need to do. For my class. It’s due next week, and if I don’t do it this weekend, it’ll never get done.”

“Well, you’re welcome to make my hotel room your art studio,” he offered. “New York has to inspire you more than Scranton would, right? And you’d be interruption free for pretty much the entire afternoon.”

She considered the offer, eventually ducking her head, a shy expression crossing her face. He realized then he had only seen the finished product of her works, never the painting part itself. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“That’s all I ask,” he nodded, kissing her forehead.

It seemed as though the convention just might be a little more exciting than he expected.