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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.


A/N: Ever notice how much happens in six year increments on the show? Jim has used a George Foreman grill for six years. Meredith has been sleeping with that guy for discounts and Outback Steakhouse coupons for six years. Michael says catchphrases last “no more than five or six years.” Michael estimates it will take six years to dig himself out of a financial hole, etc. However, breaking the pattern are Pam and Dwight: Dwight has brought pepper spray into the office for eight years and Pam has had two engagement rings in five years and only one chair. ;) Also, after much research, I can scientifically conclude: the writers have a thing for the number six. Groundbreaking, fascinating, and a whole bunch of other -ing words. Now, onto the fic!



Pam
She hasn’t cleaned out her purse in... well, she doubts she’s ever cleaned the thing out, actually. Not truly cleaned, anyway (she figures replacing the essentials only when necessary and having random garbage just fall out doesn’t count as cleaning). She figures it must be a sign from a higher power when one night while she’s putting away groceries, she accidentally knocks the purse off the counter and its contents spread across the kitchen floor like fallen soldiers.

She sighs and drops to her knees to collect the errant make-up, pens and other assorted garbage that has taken up residence in the bottom of the bag. She decides to throw most of it out and unceremoniously chucks the lucky survivors back into the bag where they will likely stay until another such accident occurs.

As she’s scooping up the contents of her change purse, she comes across an unusual coin. She picks it up, curious, and sees that it’s a Euro coin. It takes her a minute to register just what she’s doing with foreign currency, but then she remembers the trip to Italy her mother took years ago; one of the souvenirs she brought back for Pam was the coin (“Make sure it’s the first coin you spend when you travel,” her mother had said with a smile).

Pam stares at the coin for a long while even though there isn’t anything particularly interesting about it (in fact, it’s actually rather unpleasant to hold because something extremely sticky has obviously come into contact with it at some point). All she can think about is how she’s sitting on a dirty kitchen floor in Scranton and how she’s never seen a European sunrise.

“I’m gonna spend you,” she tells the coin before tucking it carefully back into the purse. She sighs, “One day.”


Angela
Angela doesn’t deal with clutter or mess. Sure, cleanliness is next to godliness, but mostly she just likes to know where things are. She needs her life to be in order. She can’t control the weather, but she can make sure there aren’t any useless or outdated keys on her keyring.

She sits down at her kitchen table for her Sunday night ritual of eating a sugar cookie and cleaning out a week’s worth of mess from her purse. There isn’t much garbage or any unnecessary items in the bag, but she knows there are some receipts from Petsmart in her wallet that need to go.

As she’s pulling the papers from the wallet, the memorial prayer card from her grandfather’s funeral slides out and falls onto the kitchen table, and her breath catches in her throat. She tries to avoid looking at it as much as possible - it’s a comfort to know he’s with her in just this small way, but she doesn’t want to be tearing up every time she needs to use her credit card.

She picks up the creased card, glances at her grandfather’s photo and reads the prayer before slipping it back where it belongs.


Jim
He’s always been a man of his word, something he likes to pride himself on. Jim Halpert keeps promises - if he ever ran for president, that’d be his slogan. He has a face the American people could trust, and something like that only comes with time, practice, and a lot of promises made good on. That’s why Jim Halpert still has a Dave Burba baseball card tucked in his wallet.

A couple summers after graduating college and before his job at Dunder-Mifflin, Jim took a job at Camp St. Andrews to make a little extra cash. It was the easiest and most fun job he’d ever had; he got paid to play with kids all day. He liked taking them to the lake and telling stories about the camp ghost, but what he really loved was teaching them to play baseball. All the kids were really excited about the game, but none more than Aaron.

Aaron was a wiry kid who always chewed gum and had enough energy to fill a baseball stadium. He babbled endlessly about how he would sit on the couch and watch baseball games with his dad before his parents got divorced and was sure that his father would be proud if he became a really good player. Jim encouraged Aaron and on the last day of camp, Aaron approached him before they boarded the bus to go back to town.

Aaron held out a baseball card to Jim and said, “Here. I think I’m gonna be on a baseball card one day, but until then you can keep this one, okay?”

Jim smiled, slipped the card into his wallet and promised not to take it out until he saw Aaron playing in a major league game.

Years later, Jim reads in the paper that a lot of talent scouts are taking interest in a local kid and the picture looks familiar, but he’s not sure so the card stays in his wallet.


Creed
Everything about Creed Bratton’s life seems to be covered in a thin film, like some kind of mystery plastic wrap. He’s a neither here nor there sort of guy who floats from experience to experience like a bizarre funhouse Aladdin riding a magic carpet.

He hoards things because he never knows when the big bomb is gonna drop or if he’ll have to skip town, so things like Swiss army knives with broken scissor parts and newspaper clippings from 1974 are in the “everyday carry” category.

He’s been carrying Tito Vasquez’s library card for six years now because who knows? He could end up back in Arizona any old day and he wants to be ready if he feels like reading a book.


Michael
When people start throwing around words like “bankruptcy” and “fiscal responsibility,” Michael panics. He locks himself in his bedroom and tries to come up with some elaborate scheme to escape his debt, but so far all he’s come up with are ideas for magic tricks.

He cracks open his wallet and stares at the few one dollar bills inside it.

The only upside of the experience is that he finds an unidentifiable hard candy lurking in the wallet next to the bills. He unwraps the candy and pops it into his mouth.

He immediately frowns and spits the candy out into his hand. “Yuck.”

He rewraps the candy, puts it back in the wallet, and sighs.

Chapter End Notes:
The camp Jim worked at is a real place and the ghost stories are (presumably) real. You know what's kind of terrifying when you're a child? To go to a camp and hear the story of a girl who was drowned by her bunkmates and now roams around the camp looking for bad kids to take back into the lake with her. Oh, what a summer that was.


carbondalien is the author of 25 other stories.



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