Story Notes:
It’s been done already, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take a crack at it, right?
Please forgive my inability to write decent summaries. Or come up with good titles.
Rated T for a little strong language.
Please forgive my inability to write decent summaries. Or come up with good titles.
Rated T for a little strong language.
Author's Chapter Notes:
I don’t own these characters.
Spoilers for Customer Survey.
Spoilers for Customer Survey.
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To be honest, when Alex said he was going to “take a big leap,” my heart stopped for a second as I flashed back to Jim in the parking lot that night.
You should…not move back to Scranton.
What—what?
Gonna take a bigger leap here—he is into you.
And that made no sense, because Alex was strictly a friend. Jim had met him once, and he knew I was engaged, and maybe he’d been a little flirtatious here and there but nothing I’d ever given a second thought…
But as he kept talking and basically telling me I couldn’t really call myself an artist unless I stayed in New York, I began to feel offended. And my heart started racing as I thought of Jim on the other end of the line, hearing all of this, hearing Alex dismiss him with a “yeah, I know, but…” It wasn’t until he mentioned regrets and fifty years down the line wondering what could have been that I realized Alex thought he was saving me from my fate or something. Showing me I could have a different life.
Jim’s in Scranton. Our life is in Scranton. We’re getting married. What’s he suggesting, that Jim just up and move here?
No, there wasn’t really any consideration of Jim in his advice, was there.
The camera was still on me, eager to capture my reaction, and I gave Billy a quick glance that I hoped conveyed how desperately I wanted him to just leave us alone right now as I pushed through the door and turned off the volume on my microphone. He nodded and moved his body sideways for me to pass.
Jim hadn’t said a word. I couldn’t even tell if he was still on the line until I found a quiet place in the hallway outside the Dunder-Mifflin suites and heard Dwight’s voice, an awed whisper. “Is that the Matsuhashi b400, the world’s tiniest Bluetooth?”
Jim remained silent for a second and then said quietly, “Don’t.”
Was he talking to me or Dwight? “Jim?”
“Just a second.” I heard him moving around, a door open and close, and then his voice, kind of tinny and echoing. The stairwell? “You need to leave us alone for a minute,” he said sharply, and then, more softly, “Please.”
“What?”
More noises, footsteps, a loud grumpy sigh. Ah, the cameras.
“Hey.” Jim cleared his throat. “So…”
“Don’t be mad,” I said quickly, out of some long habit borne of years with Roy.
“I’m not mad.” He sounded surprised, maybe mildly offended. “I’m…” He hesitated for a long moment, and then asked very softly, “Am I holding you back, Pam?”
Of course he’d see it that way. “I wouldn’t be where I am if it weren’t for you,” I promised.
“Do you want to stay there?”
I sighed. “No.”
“Pam…”
“Jim, Alex doesn’t know me,” I said firmly. “He just…”
“Wants you?” he guessed with a humorless chuckle.
“Maybe.” I sighed. “I don’t know. I never really got that vibe from him before.”
“He seems awfully concerned about your future,” he said dryly, and there was an uncertainty and prick of possessive jealousy in his tone I’d never heard before. So slight, and clearly not the real issue, but it immediately made me feel defensive and I had to take a deep breath before I could snap, don’t you trust me?
Of course he trusts you. He’s just freaked out. Wouldn’t you be? Put yourself in his place.
I tried to picture some friend of Jim’s, some girl I didn’t really know, telling him he’d be better off doing his own thing in another city. It made me feel a little sick.
“I don’t know if he’s into me or not,” I said finally. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters what you want,” he said quietly.
What do I want? What am I going to regret in fifty years?
“Pam…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to be the thing that keeps you from being…who you want to be. If that’s in New York…”
Stop. “I want to be where you are.”
He heaved a very relieved-sounding sigh of his own, and at that moment I wanted so badly to see his face. What must he have been thinking? Didn’t he know that none of this would mean anything if he wasn’t with me to share it?
No, he doesn’t know. You have to tell him.
“I want to come home,” I blurted.
“You don’t have to say that just because—“
“I miss you,” I interrupted. “I miss home, I miss…everybody. I guess I’m not a ‘real’ artist,” I sighed.
“That’s bullshit, by the way,” he said strongly. “You are an artist. You could be in fucking West Nowhere, Texas and you’d still be an artist.”
I snorted. Oh thank God, he can always make me laugh.
He cleared his throat. “We could move there,” he continued more gently.
“West Nowhere, Texas?” I managed to chuckle.
He laughed, kind of short and halfhearted, but a laugh all the same. “You’ll have to do more than move two hours away to get rid of me, Beesly.”
I took a deep breath and let it back out. “Believe me, I know about regret, and wishing I’d done things differently and—he does not know me. Or us. If I have to make a choice and it’s one or the other, then I choose you.”
“Pam,” he murmured.
“I choose you, Jim. I love you.”
He was silent for a second and then he asked, cautiously, “Pam, are you seriously quoting Meredith Grey to me?”
“Aha! I thought you never watched that show,” I said, triumphant.
“Oh my God.” I could feel his smile, picture him shaking his head. “Everybody knows that line. It’s like the most famous of all cheesy lines.”
“You started it with the ‘not getting rid of me’ reference. Totally Jerry Maguire.”
“I lay my heart out to you and you accuse me of plagiarism?” he exclaimed.
I laughed, and suddenly the universe, which only moments before had felt so dangerously off-kilter, seemed to right itself. “I’m serious, I want to come home. Come get me.”
“You’re just missing Andy,” he said lightly.
“Yeah…Andy.” I smiled, leaned against the wall, and closed my eyes, summoning up Jim’s face. Did he have any idea how much I missed not being able to look up and see him whenever I wanted? Probably not.
“Pam.” I heard him take a deep breath and let it out again. “In fifty years…”
“I hope you won’t be as bald as your brother,” I mused.
He snorted. “You and me both.”
“Hey.” I cleared my throat, remembering something that had been bothering me for a while before Alex showed up. “Why did you hang up on me during your review?”
“I didn’t—I—what?” he interrupted himself, but he might as well have confessed, his tone was so guilty.
“Am I supposed to believe it was a coincidence that you ‘lost my call’ right after Michael said your reviews were bad?”
“I—uh—it was just…” he continued to stammer for another few seconds and I listened in silence until he gave up and just sighed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t hide things from me.”
“I told you,” he said, defensively. “Right after.”
“Still.”
“Well, it took me by surprise.” He cleared his throat. “I’m proud, okay?”
“You are?”
“Shut up.”
I grinned. “I love you too.”
“I have to go back to work now,” he said primly.
“Me too. Are you sick of having me in your ear yet?” I pushed open the door and gave a small shrug and smile to the curious stares of Lisa and Terry, who sat at the desks behind me.
“I am never taking this thing off until you come home.”
“Thank God for the unlimited friends and family plan,” I murmured.
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Chapter End Notes:
I wasn't going to put this up since it's already been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone yesterday. So here it is. Reviews are, as always, welcomed and greatly appreciated!
callisto is the author of 22 other stories.
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