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Story Notes:
this concept has been bugging me for awhile and i dont think we see nearly enough 'inside karens head' fics. i am as in love with jim and pam as the next girl but i thought it would be interesting to look past that and try to see where karen might have been that day.

may have a little harshness toward jim but this is karen's POV and thats entitled i'd say.

based on 'the nicest thing' by kate nash. listening to the song while reading might get ya in the mood. :)

All I know is that you're so nice,
You're the nicest thing I've seen.
I wish that we could give it a go,
See if we could be something.



The trip back to Scranton was a blur of traffic, tear stained cheeks, man-bashing curses with her friend (who had offered to drive her home since suddenly she was without a ride), and four full bars of service on her Blackberry. She cursed herself angrily as she checked her phone again, those four bars taunting her with the reminder that anyone who wanted to reach her was able to. Anyone that wanted to call her and tell her that they had made a ridiculous mistake and beg for forgiveness could, but wouldn’t. The phone had not rang since their last words to each other and as she turned up the ringer just a little louder she told herself it was a safety precaution. Just in case something happened to anyone back home and they needed to reach her. Or just in case David Wallace called her to offer her the job, the new life, and the better opportunities she wanted to make sure she heard that call. She absolutely was not doing it in case he called her back. She absolutely was not checking her phone in the ridiculous hope that it would be him, realizing what an idiot he was and what he was throwing away and to take it all back.

She knew it was a wasted effort. Lying to herself about why she checked again and having a small, pathetic ray of hope it was him. The phone would have full service and he would never call again. And she shouldn’t want him to. After all he put her through, after all of the lies and the half truths, all of the sly glances to reception when he thought she was in the bathroom or refilling her water bottle. He had used her as a tool to mend his own heartache and somewhere along the way he had transferred his pain onto her. How dare he even try to call her again, insult her further by mumbling pointless apologies.

But her foolish heart still wanted him to if for no other reason than to prove that her time with him wasn’t a complete waste. That she hadn’t moved herself to another state, started a new relationship with such high hopes only to have her happy ending over before it had ever even started.


I wish I was your favorite girl,
I wish you thought I was the reason you are in the world.
I wish I was your favorite smile,
I wish the way that I dressed was your favorite kind of style.



It was ridiculous, really. She was gorgeous, smart, and stylish. Her suits were always in fashion, always fit in that way that caused men to stare when she walked into a room. Her hair was always flat and shiny, her projects were always early and extremely organized. Her sales numbers were high, her background was strong. She was fluent in several languages and she could tell a really good joke when she wanted to. She was a god damned catch. Any man would be lucky to get the time of day from her.

But instead of commenting on how nice her suit fit, he bought her a cardigan sweater. Instead of running his fingers through her shiny flat hair, he curled the ends around his fingertips. Instead of congratulating her on a successful sales call, he stood at the reception desk and discussed solitaire scores and CIA missions.

Moisture burned at the back of her eyelids as she neared the small city she rented an apartment in but would never be home. Her tears were hot on her face, a contradiction to the cold she felt in the rest of her body. Just a few short hours ago, things had felt so differently. She had been so close to achieving all those things that she was hoping for. He was so alive in the city, so much more into her and so seemingly ready to finally move ahead. She didn’t know what happened in the thirty minutes between the time she left for lunch to the time he called her and told her he had walked out and that this wasn’t working. She didn’t know and as she tasted her salty tears on her lips she told herself she didn’t care.

As the car pulled up to her empty house, her friend turned to her with eyes that questioned if she really wanted to be home alone. Her friends had pleaded with her to stay in the city for the night, catching up with the girls, and not being alone. None of it had sounded appealing and after insisting she just wanted to be alone, they had obliged her. She nodded slightly, hugging her friend quickly before hopping out of the car giving a wave as the car turned around and took off. One quick glance toward her place and she realized with a slight panic that her car was still parked at Dunder Mifflin. Oh well. She would figure that out later. She knew she couldn’t attempt to go back into the office, knew that if she had to see prince charming swoop in and kiss the girl she would do something drastic and emotional and public - something unlike her and unworthy of him. He took her heart and he took her hope and he took her for granted but he would not take her pride and her professionalism with it.

No, she would not go back into the Scranton branch today and hopefully she would not step foot in his branch or his life again unless it was to step on his spirit the way he had done to hers. She wasn’t quite ready to go inside and really let go yet, either and slowly started walking down the sidewalk toward the grocery store around the corner. She needed alcohol and she needed a lot of it. As she walked down the street in her neighborhood she felt surprised at how unfamiliar it really was to her. As much as she had tried to make this place somewhere she felt comfortable, somewhere she could shine – it never quite made it and she somehow always felt embarrassed. Embarrassed to admit she worked for that branch, embarrassed to watch adults prank each other instead of make sales, embarrassed for waltzing in so blissfully unaware she would have to start sharing her boyfriend and holding back her heart so that he could give his to someone else.


I wish you had a favorite beauty spot that you loved secretly,
'Cos it was on a hidden bit that nobody else could see.
Basically, I wish that you loved me,
I wish that you needed me,
I wish that you knew when I said two sugars, actually I meant three.


She took a deep breath to steady herself before crossing the intersection at the end of the block. She had to be in public for a moment and didn’t need to be crying and drawing more attention to her situation. She waited for the light to turn green and saw a small dive bar on the opposite end of the street, across from the grocery store. He had taken her there once after a particularly long day at work and as much as she told herself not to, she felt herself turn on her heel toward it. It was stupid, the last thing she needed was to revisit the place where she had realized that in six months of dating he still didn’t recall what type of beer she drank. In six months of dating, he still stared blankly when he had asked her what she wanted to drink and she had replied ‘the usual.’ It stung to realize that he couldn’t bother to remember what her usual drink was but checked the supply of chamomile teabags at the office religiously, even though he never drank it. She was sure it had something to do with the small green teapot perched at the reception desk.

After all, everything else seemed to.

Shaking off her thoughts, she made her way to the door and stepped inside. She perched herself onto a stool at the darker corner of the bar and ordered a shot of tequila. Definitely not her usual but her day had been about as unusual as they go so she figured it worked out. Picking up the shot, she glanced up at the clock and realized it was long after closing time and she could potentially go get her car tonight after all. With a shake of her head she decided that the car could wait and downed the liquid quickly. It burned her throat but was a welcome change from the burning her cheeks had been feeling so she ordered another one. Exhaling, she glanced lazily around the bar until she felt her heart stop at the sight before her. Jim and Pam. Huddled in the corner, sharing a cozy booth and a bottle of wine in her god damned bar. Cuddling next to each other, smiling and whispering and suddenly it was more than she could take. He hadn’t even waited an hour upon arriving home. It was like the past six months had not existed, like all she had been was a layover on his final destination to everything he had ever wanted.

He must have felt her eyes on him because he glanced up at that moment, shock registering on his face as he glanced down just as quickly. He whispered something to his new girlfriend and they both quickly started gathering up their belongings and snuck out the back, leaving their wine unfinished and her bruised ego in their wake. As she watched them slink out, she felt her sadness shift to full blown anger and then to pure disgust.

Sitting up straight, she threw a twenty on the counter and ordered another shot. She refused to slink off and be ashamed. She was an amazing woman, she had loved someone and she had had her heart toyed with. He didn’t deserve who she was and what she could give him, and he certainly didn’t deserve one more tear to be shed over this situation. She was going to get over him, was going to become even better at her job and find a real man to love her like she deserved. No more tears, she said sternly to herself.

She picked up the shot glass in front of her and downed it quickly, the image of the two of them burned into her mind as a stubborn tear ignored her demand and rolled down her cheek.

Tomorrow. She decided. No more tears tomorrow.

Because today, it still fucking hurt.



I wish that we could give it a go,
See if we could be something.


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