If working with Michael all these years has taught Pam one thing, it’s to expect the unexpected. Apparently it was a lesson that wasn’t destined to stick, however, because she is stunned by her most pressing current desire: on her first Valentine’s Day with Jim, Pam wants to call Roy and start apologizing, profusely. In the effort to prevent herself from doing just that, she pulls the cuffs of her new red sweater a little further over her hands and crosses her arms, leaning back in her chair with a weary sigh.
The day had seemed so…great, at first. She’d gotten in early, excited to arrange Jim’s gift on his desk just so. They’d already discussed the holiday, deciding not to get too elaborate – she was paying for art classes and he’d recently had to replace the transmission on his car. Keeping in mind their “keep it low key” agreement she’d been proud of the little gift she’d put together for him – she’d bought a small metal lunch pail from Michaels, collaged it with panels from a Deadpool comic and filled it with miniature Snickers bars, Jim's favorite candy. On top she’d planned to place la piece de resistance: a watercolor version of Ralph Wiggums’ famous “I Choo-Choo-CHOOSE You!” valentine she’d made.
Of course Jim had beaten her to the punch and gotten in even earlier, because a vase full of gerber daises already sat waiting on Pam’s counter, in a pretty blue vase she’d admired at Target a week earlier while they’d looked for a gift for his sister-in-law’s birthday. When she’d looked up to give him a smile his face had been resting on his right hand, his favorite way of coyly avoiding her gaze. She’d tucked her bag of goodies for him under her desk as a happy blush had made its way up her neck.
Pam had to wait a good hour before she could finally get Jim’s gift on his desk. This wouldn’t have bothered her as much had she not, in that hour, discovered the following:
1. a perfect, poetic card that must have taken at least twenty minutes to find at Hallmark – one of those long, narrow ones that somehow never failed to get her misty-eyed when she read them – tucked into her drawing pad,
2. a box containing what had to be at least a pound of white chocolate Raspberry Stars from Godiva – sweets she adored but could never bring herself to splurge on more than two at a time when at the mall – hiding surreptitiously under a pile of papers next to the shredder, and most surprising
3. a beautiful etched silver locket – which she’d fallen in love with at a tiny jewelry shop in Dunmore they’d visited a month ago and cost more than she’d make in two days - wrapped carefully around her favorite pen.
With each find Pam had looked up at Jim, but each time he’d managed to find some way to appear busy. In fact, he hadn’t come up to her counter at all, surely setting some personal record for how long he’d managed to stay away from his favorite perch. After the necklace, instead of looking his way she’d glanced down at her Rite Aid bag containing his gift. There was no possible way she could just give him that, but she didn’t have anything else. Her mind had frantically sought out another idea – tickets to a Sixers game? An Amazon gift card? Finally ruling those too expense or generic, she simply gave up and – when he got up for another cup of coffee – rushed to his desk and deposited his gift, albeit with much less enthusiasm than she’d had just an hour before.
When he’d returned from the kitchen his face had lit up in a huge grin as he spotted his present, but rather than making her smile in turn, Jim’s happy reaction made Pam feel like hiding under her desk. Too wrapped up in the disparity between gifts, she hadn’t even gotten the chance to reciprocate his sly look-away and had simply given him back a timid smile when he’d glanced her way. Another blush had started to build, but this was one of embarrassment. She’d actually had to turn away before seeing how he’d liked the card she’d spent an hour on last night.
Pam hadn’t found any other secret gifts between then and lunch, which had helped her feel a bit better (although Jim was still avoiding her counter like the plague, so she couldn’t be sure the surprises were over). Just as she’d been about to join him for lunch the phone had rung. She’d flashed Jim a “one minute” gesture and grabbed the receiver.
“Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam.”
“Um, hello…is this Pam Beesly?” The voice hadn’t been familiar and instinctively Pam had looked at Jim’s retreating form.
“Yes it is.”
“Hello, Ms. Beesly. This is Andrew, from Michaelangelo’s.”
“Oh. Um. Hi.”
“I was told to call this number and confirm your 7:30 reservations for tonight,” Andrew had informed her kindly. Pam had bitten her lip.
“Okay. Thanks a lot.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am. We’ll see you tonight. Happy Valen—”
But poor Andrew hadn’t gotten the chance to finish his sentence, as Pam had already replaced the receiver, dazed. Michaelangelo’s? No, it wasn’t the most expensive restaurant in the area but it certainly wasn’t the cheapest, nor did it in any way fit into the “low key” holiday that the two were supposedly sharing. She’d given the locket, draped across the top of her keyboard, a long look before she’d sighed and headed to lunch with a heavy heart. As she’d expected, Jim had just given her a smile when she’d slowly taken a seat next to him. She’d been more or less silent as he’d made his way through his lunch and the small pile of Snickers bars he’d brought with him and chatted with Toby and Kevin, who were planning to play poker that night.
Now it’s three o’clock, and Pam finds herself feeling sorry for Roy. After all, hadn’t he been in this position just two years ago? They’d agreed for the sake of the wedding to keep Valentine’s Day simple, and she’d snapped at him when she hadn’t gotten anything at work. (He’d had two dozen roses waiting at home.) Obviously Jim hadn’t snapped at her like that, but his not being put-out about her silly present was almost worse. No, it was definitely worse. Pam clenches her covered hands – dammit, why today? She never drops the ball on normal days! She leaves him sweet notes all the time, brings him silly toys and stickers from the vending machines at Gerrity’s. Why does she have to suffer such an epic fail on Valentine’s Day?
She vacantly stares at her plastic dish full of pink, red and white M&M’s, desperately in need of a refill after Kevin’s last visit to the counter. Pam knows Jim must have thought about this day a long time, planning elaborate scenarios all those years she’d spent Valentine’s Day with Roy. She understands and appreciates that, but she doesn’t need all of this. She never has. And as selfish as it seems, it almost irritates her that, despite their talk, he still went so gung-ho today. Really, just the flowers would have been enough!
Is there a way to explain any of this and not sound like the world’s most ungrateful bitch?
As she stews an instant messenger window pops up on her screen.
JIM9334: Hey you.
With another sigh she leans forward, freeing her hands from her sleeves.
Receptionitis15: Hey yourself.
JIM9334: What’s up?
Receptionitis15: Not much.
JIM9334: Happy Valentine’s Day, by the way.
Pam wonders briefly if a punch in the face is an appropriate gift before she replies.
Receptionitis15: Thanks. You too.
JIM9334: Thank you.
JIM9334: Gotta say, that card? Kind of fantastic.
Receptionitis15: Thanks.
JIM9334: Hey, we didn’t have plans this weekend, right?
Receptionitis15: Not as far as I know.
JIM9334: Do you think you have time to pack a bag tonight?
Receptionitis15: What? Why?
It takes him a minute to respond.
JIM9334: They don’t make beet wine or tables here, but I thought it might still be halfway decent. :)
With a churning stomach she clicks the link, and suddenly she’s looking at the Tattersall Inn, an absolutely gorgeous bed and breakfast in Point Pleasant.
JIM9334: We need to check in by 7:00 so we’ll have to leave right from here tomorrow; I just wanted to make sure you’d have time to pack tonight.
But Pam’s had enough. Jumping to her feet she marches past him and into the break room, slamming the door behind her. Her one comfort is that the cameras aren’t here, following her around when she feels so awful. She leans against the vending machine and tips her head back, staring up into the fluorescent lights. A moment later the door opens and Jim wanders in.
“Hey, we can bring some beets with us if you want,” he jokes, but she puts her hand up.
“No. Just…just stop. Please.”
Jim’s face falls some and he quietly shuts the door again before stepping closer to her. “What’s wrong?” he asks, planting a shoulder against the machine and putting his hand in his pocket.
Pam bows her head, then raises it again and blows the stray hair from her face. “I just…I feel like an idiot, Jim,” she whispers fiercely, looking up at him.
“Why?”
“Why? Because we were supposed to…to not be making a big deal out of today! So I didn’t make a big deal out of today! And you’re over here being, like, Mr. Romantic Jones!”
Jim’s lips twitch just slightly but to his credit he doesn’t smile. “I love my gift, Pam,” he says in earnest. Pam groans.
“I know you do, but that’s…that’s not the point. We set ground rules, and you…you cheated.”
His expression resembles one that he usually flashes the camera after one of Michael’s many faux pas. “Um, I’m…sorry?” he attempts.
Pam smacks him in the shoulder, mostly in jest. “You should be.”
“Well, then I am.”
It’s quiet a moment.
She looks into his eyes. “You know I love everything, really, but it’s way, way too much. You don’t need to do all that. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but it’s…”
His lips twitch again, but in his eyes she can see he might have expected such a reaction. “Overkill?” he finishes knowingly. Pam smiles, shrugging.
“A little.”
Jim appears to think for a moment. “Hmm. Okay, how about this, then – we scrap Michaelangelo’s and grab a pizza instead?” he suggests.
“That sounds great.”
“Good.” He leans down and plants a soft kiss on her forehead. “I’ll try to be a less amazing boyfriend from now on,” he promises. Pam gives him a stern look.
“See that you do.” She squeezes his hand. “If you let me pay for half, I’d still love to go this weekend.”
“Are you kidding?” Jim scoffs. “You’re paying for the whole thing now.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.” Pam reaches up and smoothes his tie, again happy that the filmmakers were gone so there were no microphones to pick up her next statement. “You did have one other gift I was going to…show you later, but I can’t afford the whole weekend so…” She shrugs again, sighing. “Ah well.” Jim’s eyes widen for just a second, then he feigns thought, rubbing his chin.
“No, you know what? Halvsies is good. I can do halvsies.”
“Oh good.”
He moves toward the door, but before opening it he points at her. “But just for the record it has nothing to do with that other present.”
“Really?”
He shakes his head. “I just want to try a B&B where there’s no poop being flung.”
“Fair enough,” Pam says, tipping her head innocently. “I’ll leave that other gift at my apartment.”
“Well let’s not get crazy.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.
Hello! Hope you're all well. Sorry I was a bit MIA there - my inspiration apparently went on hiatus. But I'm back, thanks to an idea provided, then dittoed by my amaaaazing pals Wendy Blue and Dundie All-Star over at my LiveJournal. (Come join me if you're an LJ user, won't you? Thank you. Won't you? /Mystery Science Theater 3000 quoting) Endless thanks and tons of hugs, ladies! As our beloved show was on hiatus during *cue fanfare* Jim and Pam's first Valentine's Day, let's take a peek at what we missed, shall we?
Title refers to Peter and Frank Gusenberg, members of the "Bugs" Moran gang and two of the seven victims of the St. Valentine's Day Massacre of 1929. Don't get scared. ;)
Hello! Hope you're all well. Sorry I was a bit MIA there - my inspiration apparently went on hiatus. But I'm back, thanks to an idea provided, then dittoed by my amaaaazing pals Wendy Blue and Dundie All-Star over at my LiveJournal. (Come join me if you're an LJ user, won't you? Thank you. Won't you? /Mystery Science Theater 3000 quoting) Endless thanks and tons of hugs, ladies! As our beloved show was on hiatus during *cue fanfare* Jim and Pam's first Valentine's Day, let's take a peek at what we missed, shall we?
Title refers to Peter and Frank Gusenberg, members of the "Bugs" Moran gang and two of the seven victims of the St. Valentine's Day Massacre of 1929. Don't get scared. ;)
Chapter End Notes:
OMG U GUYS WE'VE GOT LINKSSSSS!!!!!11!!!!1!1! (What is this, The Trip? ;) )
A view of Pam's necklace.
Michaelangelo's Restaurant.
The Tattersall Inn.
A view of Pam's necklace.
Michaelangelo's Restaurant.
The Tattersall Inn.
