oxo (Dwight, Dwight/Kelly, Dwight/Angela; circa-Christmas Party) oxo

Dwight’s first thought: her lips taste like salt and her tongue like sugar, almost like that margarita he’d sipped once to make sure it wasn’t anti-freeze.

Second thought: She shouldn’t taste like that. She should taste like white chocolate and mouthwash and a little bit like glue.

Third thought: This isn’t Angela. It’s Kelly.

Eff.

And he’s scared. Not that he’d admit that: he hasn’t been scared of a girl since his disowned cousin Marta would sneak in his window at night, pull chunks of hair out and leave it on his pillow. Her hair, not his. She was an odd girl.

But he’s seen his Monkey’s eyes when they’re on fire, felt her little stubby nails claw into him when she’s having a bad dream about blue cheese and houses that don’t own vacuum cleaners. He’d like to avoid that at all costs. But a sharp spine-d Christmas ornament clips him in the back and there’s just nothing he can do about that except duck the next time. 

“I’m sorry Monkey. She caught me unawares.”

And he doesn’t cry because he knows how much she hates it when he looks weak so he swallows that lump in his throat even though he really just wants to do something drastic.

She lets him drive her home and gets out of the car without a word, and Dwight thanks his lucky stars that things are back to normal.

oxo (Jim, Jan, Jim/Pam; post-Conflict Resolution) oxo

“So why are you here Jim?”

Jan interlocks her fingers in front of her on her desk, the routine corporate question still on her lips.

“Well, I guess I’m looking for a change. I don’t really feel like I have a future in Scranton.”

She seems amused by this and that seems oddly out of place.

“Does this have anything to do with Michael? If the purposely brief encounters I’ve had in the Scranton office are any indication, I can only imagine the hoops he makes you jump through.”

But that isn’t it at all, and he tells her as much, but it’s clear she thinks that he’s just covering for his boss.

Later, as Jim is turning to go, lifting his jacket off the coat rack and hefting his messenger bag into his arms, Jan stops him.

“Oh, Jim? Could you give these to Pam?” she holds out three different pamphlets for him to take. “I know she said before that she wasn’t interested but I think she has real potential here. And she listens to you, I’ve seen it.”

Jim reaches out a slow hand and takes the glossy paper in his grasp, turning them over in his palm. Jan notices his doubtful expression.

“I’ve seen many women rise from a ground level position to high-paid careerist in this company, myself included. But then again I’ve also seen many more just stay where they were. Out of fear. Don’t let her go her whole life without knowing what she can accomplish. Just once.”

Jan blinks and the moment is gone. She smoothes out her skirt and shakes his hand one last time. “But then again it’s none of my business.”

Jim pretends the moisture in his eyes is from staring at the road for two hours, and he makes a mental note to leave the pamphlets on her desk when he moves to Stamford.

oxo (Ryan, one-sided Ryan/Pam; post-Dunder Mifflin Infinity) oxo

Her lipstick is smeared and her shirt strap keeps sliding off her shoulder but she has curly red hair and a nice smile. Or at least Ryan thinks. The lighting was pretty dark in the club.

The girl’s (woman’s) fingernails are burning patterns down his chest and if he squints maybe he won’t notice that one eye is bigger than the other and that they’re both brown, not green. That she isn’t the one he wants.

“You want to take this back to my place?” She asks in a growl and for once he really isn’t too sure about this.

“What’s your name?”

She seems surprised by the question, which makes him a little sad for her, makes him think that she does this too often and they don’t usually care.

“Lucy?” It comes out as a question so he feels safe to ask.

“Do you think you could be Pam tonight?” and there’s a lot riding on that question, hiding in its belly of emotional subtext.

She smiles, slow and sultry, like mommy just told her she could play dress up for the night.

“Sure.”

Later, lying under her sheets that smell like tide and the glare of fluorescent from outside the window, he’s trying to figure out what the hell he’s doing anymore. Pam (Lucy) murmurs that she never made a man cry before. 

oxo (Phyllis, Michael) oxo

“You need to sign these Michael.”

Phyllis raised her eyebrows and gave him a stern look. Sheesh, what was her problem anyway?

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll get to it, God. Take a chill pill. Or like twenty of them.” He smiled at the camera crew but they only stared blankly back. Those guys have like no sense of humor.

“When? I’m not staying late like the last time. Or the time before that. Bob Vance is taking me out to dinner and I’m not going to miss it.”

Phyllis snatched away the bouncy ball in his hands and when he tried to take it back she hid it behind her back. Meanie.

“Come on, Phyllis. Philadelphia. Philly cheese-steaks. It’s practically already done. Now just…”. He tried to reach around and grab it. That’s what she said. “Geez are you PMSing or something?”

And she pinched him. Phyllis, grandmother of the office, pinched him really really hard. What was that about?

“Ow Phyllis, that hurt!”

She frowned at his tears of pain.

“I’m sorry Michael, but some things just need to be done.”

And he could swear that she was smiling as she turned around and walked out of his office. At least she said she was sorry. He cradles his arm across his chest and moans.

“Paaaaaam! Can you get me some ice? I’ve been injured!”

oxo (Toby, Karen, some Toby/Pam and Karen/Jim; post-The Job) oxo

“You have got to get me out of here.”

Toby’s surprised to see Karen's figure standing starkly against the muted backdrop of his cubicle, one hand on her hip and her legs forming the bikini half of a ‘K’.

“I’m sorry?” He wonders why that’s his default question. His therapist would say it’s self-deprecating.

“Transfer me. Fire me. Throw me in a trunk and drive away. I do not care just as long as I’m someplace that’s not here, because let me just say that I might go postal on this place if I have to stay here one second longer.” Her words are clipped and her tone firm but there’s something in her expression, the way her eyes are wet and her lips pursed as if she’s trying to hold something inside, that gives her away.

“Is this about Jim?”

Karen squares her shoulders at this, defensive now.

“Of course it is. Have you seen the way he looks at her? He dumped me by a water fountain for God’s sake! What kind of idiot stays somewhere that they’re constantly reminded of the guy that pretty much stomped on your heart?”

He wants to say this type of guy, but he doesn’t, so he requests a transfer. Karen walks away well, not exactly happy, but no more bitter than she was when she walked in and with a bigger salary so he doesn’t feel too bad for her. Toby checks to make sure that the office is completely deserted before he pulls out the tissues and buries the bridge of his nose inside. He waits to throw them away until he gets home, but he’s not sure why. It’s not like anyone there would care anyway.

oxo (Andy, Meredith, circa-Fun Run) oxo

“Meredith.”

Andy pats her arm comfortingly, making sure not to tangle himself in her IV. When Michael did that it looked… disgusting.

“What is it?” She looks agitated and that’s totally cool. She must be really upset.

“I’m really glad that you’re okay. I don’t know what… we’d do with-“ Andy pauses to wipe his eyes. He’s getting emotional, hospitals always do this to him, “without you. The office just wouldn’t be the same..”

Meredith’s bottom lip puckers in thought as she strokes his hand. “It’s okay Andy.”

He nods, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Keep it together Andy.

“Hey do you think that you could get me some Vodka? The nurse bitches won’t run down to the liquor store for me even though it’s only a block away-”

Andy sets his flask down on her chest.

They do shots together until visiting hours are over and her son comes in to poach some cash out of her purse. And it’s kind of… nice.

oxo (Angela, Kevin) oxo

“Can I have a bite of your candy bar?”

“No Kevin, you may not. Why don’t you stick your mouth into that vat of M&M’s on your desk. That should satisfy you.”

“That was a really mean thing to say Angela. You hurt my feelings.”

“Save your crocodile tears for Overeaters Anonymous.”

“You must be in a really bad mood today. You hardly ever say anything that mean unless I deserve it. What happened to you?”

“You always deserve it Kevin… and stop pouting.”

“No. You hurt my feelings.”

“Don’t make a scene Kevin.”

“I will if I want to.”

“Fine… I’m sorry, alright?”

Kevin smirks.

“That’s all I needed to hear.”