August 2002
Pam sat alone in the break room, grateful for a rare moment of peace. She had unfortunately spent the better part of the morning helping Michael refine his “look” so he could successfully attract the “smokin’” hot pizza delivery girl who had just started in his neighborhood. When he began to ask her about underwear selections and if answering the door in only his boxers would garnish better results than wearing a bathrobe, Pam forcefully excused herself to get a much needed drink.
Now, after spending a ridiculous five minutes trying to will a giant vat of white wine into the drink machine so that she might erase all thoughts that connected Michael and underwear from her head, Pam was seated at the table in the kitchen, a half consumed Coke and hastily forgotten crossword puzzle book her only companions.
She chewed on the edge of her thumb as she tapped the pencil against the table, concentrating on the nearly empty grid in front of her.
Four down: Lying asleep or as if asleep; unasserted (Seven letters).
Normally she loved crossword puzzles. They were sensible, could be completed. One word led into another, and there were no abstract answers. She knew when she started one that there was only one way it could end. Today though, working within an unyielding grid was stifling, suffocating even.
She began to doodle in the page margin as her mind ran once again over yesterday’s events.
She and Roy had fought, again. It seemed that lately the smallest things set them off, not that Pam considered Roy pushing back their wedding again to be a small thing. He seemed to though, and therein laid the problem.
“It’s no big deal, Pammy,” he had said. “We’ll just push it back a few months, wait til next summer.” She'd been trying to convince him to think about going to an art show with her next spring, even had a brochure for him to read, and he'd blown her off as he'd announced his decision to postpone and followed it with a trip to Poor Richards, a venture that had become more and more frequent as of late.
What he failed to realize was that Pam had already put a lot of work into getting married in late October. No, Roy’s part in the wedding planning seemed to start and finish with the “Hey, so I’m thinking it’s time we get married. Soon.” he’d uttered between quarters of a ball game they’d watched at his brother’s house earlier that month. Pam also considered a postponement of more than half a year to be more than a “few months.”
She sighed, her hand quickly outlining shapes and shades on the paper in front of her. She was so engrossed in not doing her crossword that she didn’t hear the door open as Jim “New Guy” Halpert walked in and came to stand beside her.
“Hey,” he said, causing her to jump what felt like a mile.
“You scared me,” she said by way of greeting as her hand moved to rest over her racing heart.
A sheepish smile stole across his features. “Sorry. Can I sit?”
She noted the brown bag in his hands and nodded. “Sure. It’s a little early for lunch though, don’t you think?”
“I couldn’t stand listening to Dwight talk about how best to prevent a bear attack anymore. Is he always like that?”
He began to unpack his lunch, and Pam felt a smile tug at her lips when he pulled out a baggie of carrots, some chips, and a ham and cheese sandwich, no crust. “He is. I told you he would be.”
He smiled, and Pam wondered if he remembered the moment she’d walked him over to his desk in the same strange detail she did. “Yes, you did.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You thought I was lying?”
He shook his head as he took a bite of ham and cheese. “No, I just didn’t think it was possible for someone to be that weird.”
She laughed. “Bear attacks are just the tip of the iceberg."
He arched an eyebrow.
"He owns a beet farm, Jim, believe me.”
“Oh, I do.”
She liked that his smile was genuine, infectious.
His eyes dropped to the paper that was now nestled between them, his finger tracing over the flower she’d sketched. “Crossword?”
“Oh,” she was unexpectedly flustered and was fairly certain that her discomfort had little to do with the barely completed puzzle. “Yeah.”
“Wow. Four words completed. Well done so far, Pam. You’ve really got a knack for this.” His eyes were joking, but his finger hadn’t forgotten its place on her drawing and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
She cleared her throat. “It’s not mine. It’s Stanley’s.”
Jim dropped his eyes to the sheet in front of him. “Did he draw this also?”
“No,” Pam said quietly as she tucked her hair behind her ear and willed her cheeks not to burn.
The smile fell from his lips and a very distinct something stole across his face. “It’s really good.”
She pulled the puzzle towards her and watched as his finger fell off the edge. “It’s nothing.”
“Well, I like it,” Jim continued as if his response were definitive. “What is it?”
“You can’t tell?” Pam joked, feeling something inside her her awaken, come alive. “If you can’t see that it’s a flower, Jim, then I’m not sure how successful I was in drawing it.”
Jim shot her an exasperated look, the sternness eclipsed only by the amusement she saw in his eyes. “I meant what kind of flower is it? Geez, you’re impossible.”
Pam laughed, felt herself settle naturally, comfortably into his teasing. “You mean you don’t know this is a Forget Me Not? What has Dwight been teaching you?”
“That bears can climb faster than they run.”
Pam burst out laughing, and their banter broke.
“Seriously though, Pam. It’s really good. I didn’t know you could draw like this.”
And she wouldn’t suspect that he would. They had only known each other for two weeks.
“It’s nothing.” She pulled her sleeve over her wrist, fingered her necklace with her other hand. “It’s just a hobby.”
“Well, it’s ridiculously good for it just being a hobby, Beesly. You’ve got a lot of talent.”
It was the first time he’d called her that—Beesly. She felt something shift slightly inside her. “Thanks.”
Almost as if he sensed her discomfort, he pulled the paper towards himself, grabbing at her pencil. “So, let’s do this.”
She looked at him, a mix of gratitude and disbelief on her face. “You want to do the crossword puzzle?”
“Of course. It beets listening to Dwight.” She laughed and rolled her eyes, noticing how his fingers were long on the pencil he held. “Unless…what were you doing? You’ve been in Michael’s office all morning. Did you need to…?”
Pam’s head shook violently, causing Jim’s eyes to widen almost comically as he trailed off.
“I was listening to Michael talk about his underwear.”
Jim’s face contorted into an amused, disgusted smirk, and he nodded once. “That’s…Yeah. So, crossword puzzle it is then.”
Pam smiled. “Cool.”
“Where were you?”
She leaned towards him, her nose picking up the faintest hint of fabric softer. “Four down,” she said as his eyes trailed to the clue before he read it aloud.
“Four down: Lying asleep or as if asleep; unasserted. Seven letters….Hmmm,” he concentrated, the end of the pencil drawn between his full lips. “Oh!”
“What?” She asked as he began to fill in the letters.
“Dormant.”
And for the first time in months, Pam realized she felt anything but.
Story Notes:
Woot! This is a little idea that wouldn't leave me alone, so I present you with installment one! Eventually this will move up into the M rating it's been given...
Author's Chapter Notes:
Just a quick little intro!
Chapter End Notes:
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