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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is my first attempt at fanfiction ever. I have to give great thanks to Pixel, who was willing to beta this story, and gave really awesome feedback.
   

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.

                                               The Poster

 

Oh. Dear. Lord. How…what could have possessed him...Why me?! 

Pam twisted her necklace between her fingers and stared down at the offending item with incredulity. She could feel the camera trained on her. The men behind it were silent, but she had caught their exaggerated motions and signals to each other. They always did that when there was ensuing drama.

 I know Michael can be oblivious, but really, this is above and beyond anything I could have imagined. 

Pam had just come back from breakfast to find Phyllis standing at her desk, fiddling with a piece of paper, her face drawn and sad. Of course Phyllis seemed to look at her that way all the time now, ever since Jim had left Scranton over a month ago. It was a look of equal parts pity and false enthusiasm, and sometimes it infuriated Pam. It wasn’t really because of Phyllis, who was a sweetheart; it was how that look made her feel like a bug under a microscope. Knowing that everyone, including the cameras, had speculated about areas of her life she had desperately tried to keep private.

“Hey, Phyllis, do you need me for something?”  

Phyllis glanced down at her hands and blushed. “Well, it’s just something I found on the fax machine. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I thought you should take a look,” She lifted her head and her eyes shifted towards the camera, then widened in alarm.  

She quickly folded the piece of paper and shoved it into Pam’s hands, then shuffled away, throwing out a quick “I’m sorry, dear.” as she left.

 Pam had opened up the paper, and felt an enormous wave of anger wash over her. A bright red wash of color crept up her neck and began to stain her cheeks. She glanced up at the camera, than balled up the piece of paper.  

 I am going to make him eat this. 

 She twisted on her heel and stalked towards Michael’s office, opened his door without warning, and slammed it behind her.  

The cameraman spent the next 10 minutes filming between the blinds of Michael’s office windows. What the sound man heard was a convoluted, one-sided argument. Pam had disconnected the tiny microphone attached to her lapel. It was terribly confusing but nevertheless intriguing, even if it mostly consisted of a repeated phrase from Michael: “Come on, Pam. Don’t be like that,” He caught one last sentence before the door swung dangerously open.

“Pam. Pamalam! You’ll be more famous than the ‘Hang in there’ kitten! I’ll make you a star! Trust me.” 

Pam went back to her desk and plunked down her in chair, dejected. She released the clenched paper in her palm and unfurled it, not bothering to try and hide it.  

What’s the point now? Michael’s going to be talking this up in an interview soon enough. 

She knew exactly where Michael faxed this ridiculous tripe. Right into the manicured hands of Jan Levinson.  

Thanks Michael, ever so much…Ass.  

“So ok,” Michael giggled deviously at the camera, having his chance to explain his really awesome idea in a talking head interview without interference. The Camera guys would get it! They were in show business, after all. Sex sells, everybody knows that… 

“I was in bed last night, watching this show on best commercials around the world, and I thought to myself, hey, you’re a smart guy, you can totally come up with a superb advertising poster for our own office.  Something that will inspire the troops to do their best, you know? To remember we need to get out there, rassle with the big boys! Like those jerks at Office Depot that keep stealing our business.  And I thought about those great ‘Got Milk’ ads from a few years ago, the ones that had all the supermodels and world-class athletes? Anyway, so, yea, this isn’t completely original, I guess, but hear me out. I had this picture in my mind of one of my employees, one of the hotter ones obviously, and they are posing really sexy with the whole ‘white mustache’ around their mouth. But, and here’s the greatness in this, instead of saying ‘Got Milk’, which wouldn’t work for Dunder Mifflin, of course, it would say ‘Got Service?’. Like our employees know how well to service you, it just shows all over their face! Ha! Right? It’s edgy, it’s funny, it works on so many levels!  I mean, this just came to me, ha ha, all of the sudden, like a bolt of lightning. Like a bolt of brain lightning.” Michael stared off to camera left, contemplating his own genius, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth.  

It was almost lunchtime, but Pam was still sitting at her chair, staring dumbly at Michael’s ‘ingenious idea’. What had he called it? Ah, right, ‘An Inspiration Poster’.  

A picture of me. Looking like a whore. Exactly what is that supposed to inspire? He should really consider getting a tattoo on his forehead. Hello, I am a giant A-hole. Do not listen to me, ever.  Ok, that might not fit, but A-hole would sum it up nicely.  

She knew it was incredibly stupid of her to not think something fishy was going on when Michael asked if she could send her the digital file that held the employees photos used for their I.D badges. Sure, she asked why, and he gave some lame excuse about wanting to clean up the photo he had doctored of all the employees for the Dunder Mifflin newsletter. She really should have seen through the subterfuge, but it really just took too much effort to care about anything these days.  He had taken her I.D. picture and photoshopped this aberration. 

She wanted to tear across the paper, fold it, tear again, fold, and tear again and again until it was nothing but a harmless sprinkle of confetti. But that was the thing about faxes, they went somewhere. And this one had gone nowhere good, that was for sure. 

She could just melt into a slushy puddle of humiliation at imagining exactly what Jan had thought of this when she’d seen it printing out.  Jan was surely intelligent enough to realize that it had to have been all Michael’s doing, and Pam told herself that was her one saving grace.  

The phone suddenly sprang to life beside her, its harsh beeping making her start in her chair.  

Please don’t let it be Jan…please don’t let it…

 “Dunder Mifflin, this is Pa-” 

“It’s Jan. Don’t worry, I know you had nothing to do with this…idea of Michael’s. I know you wouldn’t allow him to use your, uh, image, in such a way. This will be dealt with, swiftly. Can you please transfer me to his extension?” 

“Of course,” Pam squeaked out meekly, still horribly embarrassed despite Jan’s kind assurances. 

Pam transferred Jan’s call, and the yelling began almost immediately. Michael did what he usually did; put Jan on speakerphone, so Pam was privy to of both sides of the conversation.

 “…This is totally unacceptable, Michael.” 

“How can you say that? It’s friggin brilliant.  You just need time to really study it… get the angle I’m coming from.” 

“Oh, I get it, it’s completely blatant. That, Michael, is essentially the problem, along with the fact that you used one of your employee’s images, without her permission. Once again, I am at a complete loss to how you could think this is acceptable workplace behavior.” 

“Ok, ok.” Pam could practically hear the wheels in his head turning, trying to furiously backpedal his way out of this argument. 

 “I understand you’re upset. Maybe I should have used someone else’s picture. I mean, I thought of Ryan, hellooo, hottest in the office. He was even recognized at the Dundies-,”

 “Again, not the point.” 

“What then?  I mean, are you jealous? You know I think you’re prettier than Pam, and this is really just a prototype-”

 “Michael!” Pam imagined the phone skittering across the desk with the force of vibration from Jan’s furious tone.  

Pam was glad that this was at least being dealt with quickly, and the tinges of adrenaline fueled panic were finally starting to abate.  

God, what if Jim had been here- 

She visibly winced, and tasted something acrid at the back of her throat. Don’t think about Jim. Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think. It was her mantra for the past month and a half, since he’d left the Scranton office.  

Whenever she felt her eyes start to burn, a harbinger of an inevitable flood of tears, she closed her eyes, tried to breathe deeply, and repeated those words. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.  

Sometimes she would try to form a picture in her mind; the image of a clean, white sheet of paper waiting for her to create upon its snowy, perfect surface. She would mentally draw a portrait of her mother, or her childhood home. She needed something to comfort her, even if only temporarily.  

Other times this technique would fail miserably, and her mutinous mind would instead bring forth memories of Jim; his slender fingers clasped around his phone, or how his hair flipped into tiny, soft wings around his ears. Worse still, she would think of his lovely hazel eyes, the way the seemed to change color depending on his mood or the color of his shirt.

 Even as she desperately tried to erase these images, Pam knew her actions had merited this mental torture. Almost every night, as she lay awake staring into nothing, their last moments together would play itself on an endless loop in her head.  

 He had been so much closer than she realized when she hung up the phone, promising to call her mother back.  She had been startled, only able to get out a couple of words, and then her eyes were drawn to his mouth, realizing his intensions with shock and amazement. 

Oh, is he gonna? Is it really gonna happen this time? 

When he leaned into her, her eyes had crossed a little. Then her lids snapped shut, both from instinct and more than a little excitement. His perfect, wide lips had fallen on hers with a gentle urgency, and with more tenderness than she had experienced in far too long, making her heart ache a little. Pam lifted her arm to push him away, but instead found herself twining her fingers in his hair. She felt like she might be coming apart, her body reacting in a manner her mind was telling her was no good at all. Not for a soon to be bride.

  
Realizing that, she gently pushed him away. Pam had a million questions running though her mind, but her tongue felt discontented from her brain. So she just stared, feeling mute and useless.
 

What happens now?  

She realized with a little horror that she was about to articulate exactly that, when she saw something moving in her peripheral vision. She swung her head to the right, looking out the window, and saw a blinking red light. The camera had caught up with them. Ridiculously, her first thought was one of bemusement. 

Damn, those guys don’t play around.  

Then she felt her stomach grow cold, and icy tendrils of fear spread out to the rest of her body and she felt like a trapped animal. In that moment, Pam didn’t care about Jim, or what he was feeling, or what their kiss meant.  She just wanted to run, to get away from that accusing red eye. She bolted for the door and felt his hand close loosely around her wrist

“Pam? What…where are you going? Please, just talk to me-” Jim’s voice sounded shaky and scared, and she wished she had the courage to tell him it was going to be ok. But she didn’t, she could only pull away again, and retreat as fast as possible. She had been callous with his feelings, and had ignored her own. 

Dammit! Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think. When are you gonna learn, girl? There is no goodness in rehashing all this pain. 

She forced herself back to the present. She glanced down again at the ‘poster’, and saw her own small smile peeking back at her, now grotesquely ringed with a circle of white. It’s funny, she remembered that day being just god awful, and she forgot that she had even managed to produce that tiny, wry smile.

It was after everyone had been gathered around to supposedly work out their conflicts in the office, and she had erroneously assumed Angela had called her out on her wedding preparations. She had been completely incensed, glaring stonily at Angela, wishing she could just melt her face with one withering glance.  

From there it had snowballed, with all the employees discovering the other’s grievances. A heavy cloud had descended over everyone, causing even passing slights to be taken with heavy offense. To top it off, Dwight had burst into the conference room, grabbing at the box of complaints like a deranged lunatic. He had viciously shuffled through it, all the while prattling to Michael about choosing between Jim and himself. In the midst of all the craziness, Pam had been glad for the excuse to go back to her desk.  

She had been on her way to the break room to have the I.D photo taken, and had passed by one of the rooms used for the talking head confessionals.  She heard Jim’s voice and stopped momentarily, hearing him talk about some of the pranks he had been accused of, and of course, had done.  She recognized the explanation of the ‘nickel trick’ in the phone, and had to press her lips together to not burst out laughing. She half ran to the chair they were using to pose in, plopped herself down, and told the guy to just take it quickly.  Apparently her mirth had transferred itself onto the photo.

 Pam frowned again, remembering how the end of day had soured even that brief moment of pleasure. When Jim had confessed to the complaint she had assumed had come from Angela. She remembered how her chest had tightened painfully, full of hurt anger. They were taking a picture with the entire office crew, and she saw the camera flashes, and heard them as well, but only distantly, a rush of blood roaring in her ears. How could he? He was her friend, one of her best friends, and in the heat of the moment it felt like a betrayal. She knew now that wasn’t fair, he had only been doing his best to get through his own conflicting emotions. She hadn’t realized it, but that day has also started an alarm clock in Jim’s head. One whose bell had been set to go off a few weeks later, the night they had the casino party down in the warehouse.  The night her orderly, if mundane, life had begun to be shaken apart.  

Pam heard Jan’s voice rising again in anger. “Ok, alright, we are done with this absurd conversation, Michael. You have to understand what you did was inappropriate, and extremely unfair to Pam. I mean, it’s one thing to have sent this…thing, to my fax number, but you used the general corporate fax number! This should never, ever have even been created, but what if it gets through-”

 “What?” Pam chirped as she snapped out of her reverie. 

She heard Michael’s voice. “Whaaaaa-huh-hut…do you mean there, Jan, this was sent to you, and you alone.” 

He stood in front of his window, watching the color drain out of Pam’s face. Michael fumbled with the blinds, searching desperately for the cord to shut them closed, clearing his throat in panic, trying to mask out Jan’s voice before he can switch the call off of speaker phone. 

“NO, it wasn’t, in fact-”

And that’s the last thing Pam heard. She was going to faint. 

 Seriously, this has to be a nightmare. IT WENT TO CORPORATE. EVERYONE HAS SEEN THIS. SHE WILL NOW BE ON THE INTERNET, HUMILIATED TILL THE END OF TIME. SHE WILL BE A PUNCHLINE ON LETTERMAN. TOP 10 REASONS WHY PAM BEESLY IS A GOOD RECEPTIONIST. Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod BREATHE! Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod.

 Jim would have seen this. He was working in the corporate branch, being trained for his new position. Her heart rate doubled, and now she was going to have a heart attack, before she passed out. Maybe while she passed out, and Dwight would come running over, tearing off his clothes again, thinking she was having a seizure, and he might try to give her mouth to mouth. And- 

Get it together, Beesly! Her knuckles were white from gripping the edge of her desk, and her fingers felt stiff as she painfully pried them away.  Her head was pounding from a spontaneous headache, and oh how on earth would she ever live this down? She didn’t even have anyone to commiserate this horrible, awful, terrible thing that happened to her. Her eyes automatically shifted to Jim’s desk. 

That was stupid, of course. He’s not there for you anymore, dummy. Hasn’t been for awhile now.   

And neither was anyone else, not even Roy. Not for her anyway. Physically, he was, sure, he’s not very far away at all, but he might as well have been in another planetary system, as far as she’s concerned.  They split up. Of course they split up. When she realized she couldn’t continue to make excuses for the way she had felt in Jim’s arms, she had sat down beside Roy and proceeded to rip their future apart.

She had wept profusely, they both had, and she remembered how she seemed unable to stop talking in clichés. 

“I love you, but that isn’t enough anymore.” 

“I just want you to be happy; you deserve someone who can make you happy.” 

“I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me.” 

And on and on they went, through the night and into the early morning hours. Pam wondered if he hated her, and it made her feel sick with guilt, but she knew in the end it was the only choice. Because she had finally forced herself to see the bald, cold little truth that had hid away in her soul for longer than she cared to admit. Jim’s kiss had let it all out into the open. But even that wasn’t the whole truth either. His words had done it. His confession had stripped away all the false veneers of their relationship. She knew the moment the words ‘I’m in love with you’ had tumbled out of his mouth, she was done for.  She no longer regretted hearing those words, now she only regretted her own lies.

 “I’m really sorry…if you misinterpreted things.” 

And because of that one little lie, she was once again all alone in her pain. It was all just too much to take right now, or ever, really. She had spent the last six weeks trying to slowly build up the bricks of her life again, shoring up against the anguish of realizing her mistakes too late.  And now she was going to crumble, fall to pieces in front of people she could barely call acquaintances, people that just happened to share the same building for 8 hours of the day.

 That was when she heard the whirring sound of the fax machine coming to life behind her. Pam knew instinctively it would be about her, about this thing. Probably only the first of many, many return faxes to come back from the corporate office. Different versions of the same thing. 

What the hell is this? Can I get your number? Hey, you can service me anytime, baby. 

 She grabbed for the paper and ripped it out before it had time to completely slide out. Yep, here it is; the first of many in this new hell to come. It’s her image, with writing scrawled across the bottom, probably something along the lines of how she should invest in a good pair of knee pads. She made her way over to the paper shredder. How much am I going to come to love this thing?She was about to shove it through when she recognized the handwriting. 

“To:Pam                                                                                                                                                                                From: Jim

Re: WTF??Ok, Listen, Beesly, I don’t know what exactly has happened to you since I left Scranton, but please tell me you haven’t tumbled this far downhill.  Really. I mean, first, I’m guessing Roy wouldn’t be happy to learn about your new hobbies, and don’t you know the Internet is a much faster way to advertise? Ok, I’m completely kidding, I hope to God you can see that. I was in Jan’s office when this came through, we both could see instantly it was all Michael. I rushed over to IT to stop the message transfer when we realized it had gone out to everyone, and so far I think we’re ok. I’ve checked all the possible places it could have gone, and it looks like we’re in the clear. I hope-"

She couldn’t read anymore. Little wet splotches were pock marking the page now, and wherever did those come from? Oh, yes, she was crying. That’s why the page was all blurry. She was almost weeping hysterically now, she realized. Angela glanced up from her computer and was looking at her funny, head cocked like a dog that has seen something that fascinates it. She ran over to her desk, grabbed her cell phone, and made a manic beeline for the bathroom. At least she could weep and rend her garments in peace there.  

Pam violently pushed open the door and heard it whoosh shut behind her. The bathroom was blessedly empty. She went into the nearest stall, and stood for a moment, swaying. She felt nauseated and wondered for a moment if she would be sick. All her emotions were boiling up inside her, though overwhelming relief and gratitude were thankfully at the forefront. However, fear and anger were still in the race, and sickeningly, so was grief.    

Jim had saved her once again, and she was the jackass who ran away from him. This man who saved her from a mind dulling, insanity inducing job day in and day out. This man who listened to her worries and never judged, just sat quietly by, stewing in his own love for her and never giving up until she had forced him to.  

She leaned against the cool tile, just leaning, not wanting to think for a moment. She wanted everything to just drain out, leave her some peace, and hopefully a little understanding. She stood that way for maybe a  minute, maybe fifteen, until she finally felt centered enough. She started to read the fax again, able now to finish it. 

“…and it looks like we’re in the clear. I hope you get this fax before someone, like say, Kevin, does, and you can see everything is fine. Truly sorry Michael did this to you, I’m sure Jan will make him pay in her own special way. If you need anything, call me, ok?” 

Pam read his calming, sweet words over and over again. He said ‘I think we’re ok’… ‘I checked all the possible places ’…telling her again ‘I think we’re in the clear’, like it was his problem too. He didn’t have to do anything, certainly didn’t owe her anything, but he did it anyway. 

 Because he still loves me?  Oh please, oh please, oh please! 

These two syllables bounced and reverberated in her head. Something blinked in her mind then, and she read from the top again.                

 ‘I’m guessing Roy wouldn’t be happy to learn about your new hobbies.’ 

 Huh? He can’t possibly think… someone had to have said something.

Michael can’t keep a secret to save his life, and Kelly practically suffocated her with sympathy after she had to explain the wedding had been cancelled. And Kelly would tell Ryan, who seemed to have gotten pretty chummy with Jim…  

And oh my god, he doesn’t know? He doesn’t know, and he’s still this wonderful? Good grief woman, you really should have gotten your head outta your ass a long time ago.  

Pam clutched at her cell phone, shaky, but for the first time in so many weeks feeling a steely resolve. She was going to fix this, fix them. Hell, she’d beg him, if it came to that, Pam promised herself. She didn’t just go through a near stroke or panic attack or whatever the fuck that was for nothing. She was going to call him, it’s not like she hasn’t been replaying some version of this moment in her head about a billion times. She looked up his new number and saved it to her phone practically the day he got to New York. Ok, so, the week before, but really, semantics. She felt a twinge in her stomach again, but she knew it wasn’t from fear this time. It was excitement. She dialed. One ring….two rings….two and a half…three rings 

Jim! I’m finally making a decision! You have to be there! 

“Dunder-Mifflin, New York. This is Jim,”



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