"So." Karen swung her arms at her sides, determined not to let this be any more awkward that it had to be.
Unfortunately, it seemed like it had to be pretty damn awkward. Even more awkward than the words "Dunder Mifflin Inter-Branch Holiday Party" should be able to conjure up, which was a lot of awkward. She really didn't want anything to do with any of the Scranton people, but it was for her career. That's what she told herself, at least.
"So." Jim rubbed the back of his neck, equally determined.
He really wanted to flee, but he had promised Pam he wouldn't act like a jerk. He really did mean to try and be a decent person, but it was hard when your ex who hated you was standing right there next to the current you had dumped her for. Pretty much the definition of awkward, right there.
"So." Pam fiddled with the buttons on her sweater. "Is the phone ringing?"
Jim grabbed her hand before she could escape. "No," he said firmly. "It really isn't."
They all stood there for a moment, unsure what to do or say to make this into something not the worst party ever. Maybe MIchael would do something stupid soon, and distract them.
Instead of Michael, they got Kevin. "The eggnog is spiked," he said solemnly. "With rum."
That settled it. Enough rum could turn awkward into bearable.
Too much rum could turn bearable into something else.
"Ohmigod," Pam breathed. It was an hour later, and Pam and Jim were in the ladies' room, the wall cold against Pam's bare skin where her skirt was pushed up and her tights pushed down, Jim's warm hands the contrast that drew obscene noises from her. Noises that echoed off the bathroom walls when Jim missed catching them with his kisses.
"Oh, my God!" Karen's voice, and it didn't seem weird enough, at first, to even make them pause. "Sorry! I'm sorry, I just-" She put a hand over her mouth and rushed into a stall, trying not to look at them. She already felt like she was about to throw up from the punch.
"Oh, God," Jim muttered into Pam's hair, as she straightened her clothes and shrugged slightly.
Pam went to the stall where Karen knelt on the floor, and pushed aside the unlatched door. "Are you okay?" she asked, trying not to sound as breathless and dizzy as she still felt, with the ghost of Jim's touch still burning her up.
"I'm fine," Karen snapped. Her nausea had passed and now she was just pissed off. "I don't need you to hold my hair or take care of me or whatever you think I want from you."
Pam lost her balance and ungracefully sat down on the floor, feeling a little bit sick herself now. "I was just checking," she said defensively. "I know what you want from me, but you had your chance. He's mine now."
Karen snorted. "You don't know anything. Why would I want Jim back? You can have him."
"I will!" There had been a time when Pam and Karen had almost been friends. Pam had always been a little bit sorry it hadn't worked out. Not that she regretted that Jim chosen her, not for one second, but person could always use a friend. And there was something else. Something....
"Good!" The women glared at each other like a couple of Angela's cats, and then...
And then they would blame the rum.
"Uh." Jim's eyes were wide. He didn't quite believe what he was seeing, but he kind of wanted to see a lot more of it.
Not breaking the kiss, Karen stood, stretching the sleeves of Pam's sweater as she pulled her up with her, Pam following willingly with her fingers digging into the silk of Karen's blouse. A breathless grunt escaped both of them as Karen pushed Pam against the wall. "I taught him this one," she said, feeling a possessiveness she couldn't explain.
Pam pushed back, and then she was the one pressing Karen against the opposite wall of the stall, one knee raising up between Karen's, forcing her legs apart until she was grinding herself down, eager for more. "Well, I taught him this," said Pam, just loud enough to be heard over Karen's soft whimper.
"Uh." Jim couldn't manage more than that one sound, but he gave it a lot of meaning.
Pam slowly lowered her leg, though what she really wanted to do then was to know how it would feel to have her hands behind the zipper of those dress trousers. They both looked at Jim, and then at each other, one moment in a drunken haze of desire, and knew they were finally on the same page.
"Lock the door." Karen's commanding tone sent Jim to the door without hesitation, and Pam just as obediently to the small sofa, one step behind the other woman. The last thing Karen wanted was for one of her employees to walk in on this, but she had no intention of doing anyone in a toilet stall.
Jim caught Pam just before she sat down, pulling her into a hard, rough kiss. She rubbed her knee lightly against his crotch, just as she had just done to Karen. His hands under her sweater were, cool at first and then hot when they slipped under her bra. The hands under her skirt were the same, cool and then warm as they found her most sensitive flesh, but with an added shock of surprise. She'd never had four hands on her at once, and she wondered why not.
When she felt the kiss on the base of her spine, mirroring Jim's mouth at the hollow of her throat, she had to have both feet on the ground before she floated away. She fumbled with Jim's fly, gasping as he bit gently at the top of her breast and Karen, her hands busy getting rid of Pam's tights and panties, did the same just above her hip. The world shifted under all those hands, and somehow Jim was behind her, Karen on the sofa in front of her, head beneath her skirt.
Jim groaned as he entered her, one arm around her waist supporting her and, with his other hand, stroking Karen's hair and guiding her movements until Pam had to stifle her scream against the back of her own hand. Jim muffled his own cries in her hair, biting lightly into her shoulder at the last.
Both still trembling, they sat, Karen between them catching her own breath. Jim kissed her then; she tasted like Pam, and he thought that was as it should be even as he unbuttoned her blouse.
"Fuck," breathed Karen, her voice shaky.
Jim looked to Pam, for guidance or permission, he wasn't sure, but she shook her head. She wasn't ready to share him quite that much. She'd make sure Karen was taken care of, however. She'd been wanting to do that for longer than she knew, now. One more opened fly, this one on a well-tailored pantsuit, and her hand slid down into warm and wet and Karen's whispered "there" was unnecessary. She knew how to do this.
Karen's eyes closed in bliss, but she forced them open. She wanted to watch, Pam with her hand down Karen's pants and Jim's fingers rough against her breasts. The two of them kissed each other as they worked her between them. Karen clutched a handful of Pam's curls in one hand and Jim's too-long-again homeless hair in the other, and when she came they cried out with her as she pulled hard.
"Okay." It was Pam who spoke first. "That was -"
"Totally okay," muttered Jim, who wasn't sure he'd ever be able to get up off that sofa.
"You've been in there long enough!" Angela's voice from outside the bathroom door quickly put an end to that mood.
"Okay!" said Karen, partly to the other side of the door and partly to Jim and Pam.
"I'm going back to Utica tonight," she said, thankful for having had the foresight to designate drivers amid the speedy rearrangement of clothing. This had happened, and now it was done. She felt strangely peaceful about it. Closure would do that to a person. So did an orgasm. She had no complaints.
They all left the room under Angela's disapproving glare at Jim, though it was clear she didn't think they had been up to as much no good as they had been; if she had, she would surely have said something, and that was not the memory any of them wanted to take away from this year's holiday party.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
