Author's Chapter Notes:
If you've ever seen House, you know the first attempt at a solution NEVER works out.....
Chapter 6 tonight, I hope!
(and kudos to LisaHoo and nqllisi for recognizing my Quantum Leap plaguarism!)
Chapter 6 tonight, I hope!
(and kudos to LisaHoo and nqllisi for recognizing my Quantum Leap plaguarism!)
Pam could not believe she was back at work. Right back to where she'd started that morning. She figured this was what Bill Murray's character first felt like in Groundhog Day. As she gazed through the outside windows in the conference room, she wondered if, like Bill, she could hurl herself off the building and not die. That might be a way to find out how Jim really feels, she mused morbidly.
“This is just a dream,” she repeated yet again under her breath. Then ten o'clock arrived and so did Todd Packer. “No, this is a nightmare,” she amended.
She stayed at her desk as she watched Packer make the usual fool of himself, starting as always with cracks about Jim's sexuality. She knew Jim hated Packer with the fire of a thousand suns (that was the exact phase he'd used more than once back when they commiserated together about such things). She always admired how he managed to hold it all in and ignore Packer's taunts. They both knew full well that like all bullies, responding to Packer only egged him on.
Which was why Pam involuntarily cringed when Karen introduced herself to Todd Packer as Jim's girlfriend. Packer, as expected, made an elaborate display of shock, while Jim sat there silently, a tight half-smile on his lips. Pam could see Jim's profile as Packer blustered on about Karen “either being a dude or Jim's been scared straight” - and the only reaction she saw from Jim was a brief glance up at Karen. Pam didn't think the look had been one of gratitude.
When Packer finally disappeared into Michael's office, Pam pretended to be copying messages as she listened to Karen quizzing Jim on what had just occurred. Why did Packer think Jim was gay? Why didn't he say something to shut the guy up? Pam couldn't hear Jim saying anything in response, so she glanced over a time or two. She saw him shrugging noncommittally a few times, and Karen looked to be getting frustrated with his lack of answers.
Finally, in a voice Pam thought was a little too loud for a private conversation, Karen said to Jim as she walked back to her desk: “Jim, he called me a dude!” Pam cringed again in embarrassment on Jim's behalf. How could Karen not know that wasn't the way to talk to him?
Still, it took Pam everything she had not to smile at that. Maybe things were broken between her and Jim, but she could still take tiny comfort that she still knew him better than Karen did. For whatever good that was doing her.
She'd almost – but not quite! - forgotten why she was living the day over until a little while later when she saw Jim stand up and head toward the kitchen. Heart pounding quite strongly in her throat, she got up on a shaky legs and discreetly followed him. She still had no idea what in the world she was going to say.
He was leaning down to get a bottle of water from the machine when she walked in.
“Hey,” she said softly, stopping to stand at the vending machine like she'd done yester- er, earlier.
“Hey,” he replied, straightening up. Again she heard that slightly hopefully-friendly tone. How had she missed it the first time?
Pam felt a bit breathless in her anxiety and sighed loudly. Like last time, Jim did the same thing.
“Everything okay?” She asked him. She was pretty sure this was how it started last time, and she struggled to figure out how to change it.
“Oh, yeah,” he paused briefly, almost curiously. “Why?”
“Well, you seem a little tired.” Pam mentally scolded herself for falling back into the previous conversation. But what else was there to say? Just jump out with 'I love you and I can't live without you?' Not likely. Jim's reply sounded to Pam like it was being read from a script – but only because by now she'd heard it almost a half dozen times.
“Oh, yeah....well I guess there've been a couple of late nights. Karen and I have been up talking....”
And there it was – the 'help me' face. Pam closed her eyes, held her breath and jumped into the deep end.
“You guys aren't getting along?” She silently cursed herself for sounding so hopeful.
If Jim was surprised by her comment, he quickly recovered. “No,” he said quickly, almost emphatically. “No.” He paused again, the looked at her. “Why would you think that?”
“No reason,” Pam countered, wondering how far she could push, “I guess – well, I saw how she reacted to Packer and his usual list of insults.”
“Yeah,” he replied, rolling his eyes.
Pam pushed some more. “You didn't seem to be too thrilled with her telling him she was your girlfriend.”
“What do you mean?” Jim's eyebrow quirked, and she noticed he was shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“When she introduced herself as your girlfriend,” she reiterated nervously. “You didn't – well, you looked a bit annoyed.”
Jim shook his head quickly. “I wasn't.” Pam was surprised by how defensive he suddenly sounded.
“Oh, well,” she stammered, trying to find a way to backpedal a bit, “I just know you aren't big on talking about your personal life in the office like that. Especially not in front of Packer.”
“But I can, right?” He seemed to be challenging her to disagree. “I mean, that's okay with you, right?”
Pam didn't understand why he suddenly seemed angry. “Of course,” she said softly.
“I mean,” he continued, “how many years were we continually reminded you were Roy's fiance?”
“I didn't say --”
“Even when he wouldn't set the date, we all knew how it was always you and Roy.”
She stared at him, mouth comically half-opened in shock at the venom in his voice. Meanwhile, he kept his eyes on his water bottle, opening and retightening the cap repeatedly.
“I've got to get back to my desk,” he finally mumbled, walking out without another glance in Pam's direction.
Pam turned toward the vending machine and rested her head against the glass dejectedly. She willed herself not to cry, but it was clear it was a losing battle.
“Well, that went well,” a gruff voice mused.
She looked over her shoulder, not at all surprised to see Greg House in the break room. She wiped her damp eyes and gave him the best glare she could manage as she turned around to face him.
“No, it did. It really did – I mean it.”
“And how do you figure that, Dr. House?” Pam crossed her arms over her chest and continued to glower.
He leaned back on one of the round table, resting his hands on his cane that stood between his legs. “Beesly, what is the opposite of love?”
“Hate.”
“Bzzz!” He sound loudly. “Oh, I'm sorry but that answer is incorrect. You won't get to move to the bonus round, I'm afraid, but that's for playing.”
He straightened up a took a few steps toward her. “I'm afraid the answer the judges were looking for was indifference. Yes, in-diff-er-ence. Not giving a rat's ass. Or a monkey's uncle, for that matter. Not caring.”
“I know what the word means,” she snapped as he stopped in front of her.
“Then you should know that your ability to make him snap like that means something.”
She sighed. “Maybe. I don't know.”
“That's the spirit,” he replied with clearly fake enthusiasm. “Now get back out there and cause some more trouble.”
“Right.” She walked past him in slow small steps, turning back when she reached the door frame. “You'll be around?”
“Maybe later,” he shrugged. “I've got to get back to your place.” He glanced at his watch. “Prescription: Passion is starting soon and Brock is about to discover he has a brother he never knew about. A siamese twin brother. Plus, I'd hate to have the delivery guy waiting at the door with cold Chinese. That credit card in your underwear drawer is good, right?”
“God, let this be a dream,” she muttered as she walked back to her desk.
She glanced over at Jim as she neared his desk, but he quite deliberately turned his head to avoid eye contact with her. It was the only clue that anything had changed at all.
