Author's Chapter Notes:
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Thanks to everyone who has been reading this! I love watching the read counter go up, up, up. This is unbeta-ed due to the already long delay in update. All my fault if there are mistakes.
Thanks to everyone who has been reading this! I love watching the read counter go up, up, up. This is unbeta-ed due to the already long delay in update. All my fault if there are mistakes.
Jim nervously circled the table trying to figure out how to phrase what he had to say without freaking her out. “Um…” he moved to sit next to her at the table. This was most definitely a conversation he needed to be sitting to have. He twisted his hands in his lap. Every second he didn’t say anything he watched her become more and more concerned. “I wasn’t wearing my boxers this morning and I don’t know where they are,” he blurted. His mother always professed it was better just to rip off the band aid.
“Great,” she muttered grumpily. She knew that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. It was devoid of shock, horror, and regret. But it really wasn’t that surprising given the missing status of her panties. “Yeah, I was going commando too.”
Okay, that explained her lack of alarm but the implications of the missing undergarments were more than he could handle. So the obvious follow up question, “Do you think we…?” he couldn’t actually verbalize it, nor could he look at her. The repercussions of an affirmative answer were too much to take.
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. However, the thought that she might not be able to remember any of it made her hope nothing happened. She thought when something between them happened … wait. Did she want something to happen between them? Now? In the future? And hold on, what about Roy? Shouldn’t her concern be she may have just ruined things with Roy? Yes, it should. Crap. She was in desperate need of a subject change, “I know what this is though,” she pulled the tie paper across the table so she could focus on it and not on Jim. “We were making wedding invitations. Well not exactly wedding invitations but...”
“Save the date-tations,” he interrupted. That was just enough of a catalyst to spark the memory.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jim vaguely remembered being with Pam at her desk helping her to prepare to be married off to another man. He couldn’t remember why he thought this was a good idea. However, he clearly remembered this was the point in the night he realized he was drunk. They had brought the alcohol with them so he had no intention of altering his inebriated state. He took in her smile, giggle (yes giggled) along with her, he was actually having fun. It could have been awkward given that he was helping to keep Roy in her life, but they were just in such a collective good mood that it didn’t seem to matter. He never in a million years would have guessed this activity would be fun.
He recalled her drinking straight from the vodka bottle without flinching or gagging. He was impressed. Did she have an affinity for vodka he didn’t know about? “Let’s do the save the date-tations,” he heard her suggest before he could let his mind wander any farther.
“Ok, Michael,” they were giggling again. He couldn’t seem to control his laughter. “What kind of impression do you want to give with these save the date-tations?” Trying to be serious was becoming increasingly difficult. Everything seemed to be so hilarious. Pam marrying Roy - frickin side-splitting!
She took a moment appearing to be giving it serious thought. “I want it to be classic and elegant,” she explained. “Oh, but not boring. There has to be some way to make them a little more … fun or exciting.”
How in the world does one make a piece of paper fun and exciting? Working at Dunder Mifflin had taught him paper was anything but those two attributes. Did she want it to burst into song or do a little dance? “Okay, so classic but fun and elegant but also exciting,” he repeated for his own benefit. He was about to succumb to more laughter over a singing, dancing piece of paper and he didn’t want to explain that to her.
“Exactly!” She exclaimed but her mood quickly subdued. “How do you always know me so well?” It was a serious question. She wanted an answer. It was like she couldn’t believe anyone would want to know her so well, damn Roy.
Danger! Danger! “I … um …” He could not answer that question. He was too drunk to think of a believable lie. He had to bite his tongue to keep the truth from slipping out. What was he supposed to say? I love you and have made it my life to learn every innate detail about you? That would go over so well.
“I’m drunk.” She stated proudly.
Oh thank God! She seemed to have forgotten her previous question. “Perfect. I think a drunken stupor is what these save the date-tations need to be fabulous.” Visions of the piece of paper were creeping back into his mind. This time the paper was doing the YMCA. He was giggling again; he couldn’t hold it in this time.
Pam didn’t seem to notice his laughter. “Give me your tie.” She held out her hand waiting demanding compliance.
She wanted him to strip now? This was going to make it fun and exciting? Well yes striping would be fun and exciting if they were both participating. Ugh! He lacked control of his own thoughts in his drunken state. It was going to get him trouble. Maybe he should stop drinking. Nah! “Am I going to get it back?” he asked as he loosened it and slid it over his head. She nodded and he handed it over.
“We’re going to copy it.” He watched as she bounced off to the copier.
“Why?”
“Because I am tying the knot and your tie has a knot. It is the perfect background really.” She smiled at her own drunken brilliance.
She was beautiful. Crap. He needed to figure out how to stop these thoughts. “What kind of paper?” he asked as he followed in her wake to the copier. He needed to keep his brain in check. It wasn’t a possibility for his brain to multi task at this intoxicated moment so he focused on the task at hand.
“OH! The fancy kind, with the swans!” she jumped around excitedly.
“Swans?” Yes why swans, that was what was important. Pam bouncing, not important, oh hell.
“Yeah, they are the most elegant bird.” Pam explained as she positioned his tie just right on the bed of the copier. He watched her as she cutely concentrated on getting it just right. He knew he was going to kiss her tonight. He knew it right then and he also knew there wasn’t going to be anything that could stop it. The only thing he could do was postpone it so he busied himself by loading the swan paper in the paper receptacle.
“Right. So we have elegant. But what about fun…and…the other two adjectives?”
“You’re fun silly!”
For reasons unbeknownst to him she leapt into his arms. He wasn’t expecting her to launch into him, leaving her feet. He was caught off guard, drunk, and couldn’t adjust. The result was them lying on the floor, tangled up in each other.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That was it. That was the end of the memory. He couldn’t remember if he had kissed her. He couldn’t remember if that was the moment he lost his boxers. It was frustrating to have just a piece of a memory. And if that had been THE moment, she had initiated it. Wow, his mind was reeling at the possibility. But she was staring at him from across the table, waiting for an explanation. “You hit me, you threw stuff at me, and you tackled me Beesly. You are a violent drunk.” Jim teased.
“We were really drunk.” She wasn’t in the mood for jokes. There were too many unremembered details about that night with the potential of destroying her life as she knew it. She needed to know what he remembered so she could piece it with what she remembered. She needed to remember the whole night but she was quickly realizing that may not be a possibility.
“Yes, we were,” his smile faded. He could tell by the look in her eyes this conversion was about to turn painful. She wanted the play by play of what he remembered. And after that it was going to deteriorate into the what if game.
“What kind of drunk are you?” Pam decided to change tactics. If remembering wasn’t in the cards she was going to use logic to determine the likelihood of their sleeping together.
“Huh?” Not what he expected. At least he didn’t have to tell her that he remembered his body had plans on kissing her last night.
“I mean … normally when you are drunk how do you act?”
“Because you think it is my normal state of being to be drunk?”
“No, not at all! This isn’t going well… When you drink, whether it be a regular or sporadic occurrence, are you a happy drunk, a wild drunk, an angry drunk?”
“Oh! I guess I am a happy drunk…with perhaps playful tendencies.”
“Sure, I can see that. I would also describe myself as a happy drunk with maybe more of a flirtatious side.”
“Pam, where are you going with this?”
“Hypothetically, what would you think would happen when a flirty happy drunk and a playful happy drunk spent the night alone together?”
“Alone together?” He knew exactly what she meant. He knew it when she began discussing this topic, but he was trying to buy some time while he pondered an acceptable answer. Acceptable meaning a believable lie.
“Jim…” She was growing frustrated fast. He knew something and was stalling to avoid giving her a truthful answer.
Jim never got to answer the question posed. Roy came into the break room interrupting their conversation. Pam did her best to perk herself up and not look as miserable and frustrated as she felt. Jim attempted to not look guilty. “Hey Roy,” was all he could muster before he fled the break room breaking all human speed records in the process. Pam resented Jim for leaving her to fend for herself, but at the same time was glad that he did. It was easier to deal with them one at a time.
