Disclaimer: This author is in now way affiiliated with The Office, NBC, or any subsequent associates of said organisations. This is a story designed for pure entertainment, and the author receives no profit as a result of publication. Don't sue :)
THE SEDUCTION OF MISS BEESLY
“If you left I would seriously blow my brains out.” He smiled softly at her overdramatic statement, gesturing for her to follow him out so they could head to Poor Richard's. Normally the idea of being with her outside the office, with alcohol no less, was cause for celebration. He remembered the Dundies like it was yesterday, and the feel of her soft lips against his had sparked some viciously inappropriate fantasies for several weeks afterwards. And now, watching her in her simple cat outfit, such fantasies would normally be running rampant.
And yet his mind was elsewhere. She hadn't wanted him to be the one fired, had taken back her encouragement of a better job as soon as he had seemed cold to her. He'd noted the panicked look on her face when he'd brushed her off earlier. Absolute panic. Terror. It raised so many questions. Why on earth had she reacted so strongly?
Yes, they were friends, best friends. But he had always thought he'd known where he stood with her. Their innocent flirting, although capable of driving him insane, had always been undertaken behind strict unspoken rules. There was little to no touching, no lingering glances without eye rolls or an accompanying joke, no long pauses. These things were dangerous, and an infringement usually lead to her quickly exiting the room. He knew he had for some time acted as an emotional substitute for Roy's unavailability. A sounding board for ideas, a source of laughter and support, a source of belief and encouragement, an actual connection.
He'd always thought she didn't realise that he provided such things for her, didn't realize how he picked up Roy's slack. But that panic in her eyes, the terror...why?
His eyes widened later that night, back at his apartment, as he realized why she'd been so panicked. She knew. She knew he was all those things. She knew about the flirting, the encouragement, the connection, the laughter, the sympathetic ear. She knew that without it she'd be left with only work and Roy. And the thought of losing it had terrified her.
Suddenly he was angry, he was furious. All these years she'd known what he was giving her, had known how much she needed him to act as some kind of sexless substitute for her fiance's shortcomings. She hadn't been worried about upsetting him, she'd been worried about losing all those things he gave her.
He quickly stood up, reaching for the bottle of scotch he kept hidden behind a book on the top shelf. Pouring a healthy portion, and seeing there was enough in the bottle to get him comfortably wasted, he settled in on the couch to think.
He'd known he loved her since the first day he met her, had hated the cliché of falling for someone so unavailable, but he couldn't help it. It was meant to be some dumb crush, something to disappear with time. But it had stayed, growing stronger, becoming a cancerous growth over his heart until everything he felt was obscured by her.
His happiness each day was completely entangled in the time he spent with her, how happy she was, how much fun they had; if her eyes lingered a second longer he smiled himself to sleep.
And he'd always kept his respectful distance, he'd never pushed her to acknowledge the tension between them, never tried to force her to see how much he gave whilst her chosen partner simply took. He'd assumed she'd had no idea, and never wanted to push her too hard.
But she'd known. She'd known what he gave, what he provided, what she needed from him. And she took it without question. He knew it wasn't deliberately cruel, Pam was many things but cruel or manipulative she was not. He also knew if wasn't intentionally selfish – he'd been the one to starting giving it in the first place, so why wouldn't she take?
And yet he was still furious, the scotch only adding to the burn he felt, the anger he felt. To give so much, to have her know what he gave, and yet do nothing. He'd had enough. It was his time, it was her turn to realize what he did for her, what he could do for her.
An image jumped into his mind, a moment a week or so earlier, when they'd sat in the conference room during one of their ridiculous “meetings”. The sun had been blaring down all day, and the air conditioner in the office was pitifully bad. They'd sat side by side, and the warmth in the room was enough that most people had taken off their jackets and rolled up their sleeves. Pam had removed her usual cardigan, rolled up her sleeves and had even undone a third button on her shirt.
He glanced to her briefly, secretly watching a bead of sweat travel a slow path from her neck down between the valley of her breasts. She'd sighed, the action of breathing heavily causing her ample breasts to rise and strain against the confines of her shirt. His eyes had widened briefly, and he'd almost panicked when she glanced up at him and blushed. Until he saw her eyes briefly, almost imperceptively travel to his forearms, which he now realized she'd been staring at for a while. She quickly faced the front, and he'd been a good enough friend to no call her on it. After all he'd only second before been imaging what her nipples might look like.
But he let himself dwell on it, on her reaction. He thought about her sigh, realizing she had been looking at his arms when she'd done it. He wondered what she had thought. She'd blushed, so it must have been something less than innocent. He had felt a warm flush of pride for a second, and after work had enjoyed thinking what it might have meant. Fluffy thoughts of love and possibility had filled his mind at the time.
Now his mind went somewhere else. It went somewhere darker.
A thought formed.
Then an idea formed.
Then a plan formed.
It was time to take what he'd spent the last three years earning.
Jim sipped his scotch slowly, now enjoying the smooth flavour settling into a hot pool in his stomach, his anger calming to a low simmer. As he continued his thought the simmer went lower, becoming an icy burn, something cold and calm and settling.
Jim sat quietly, thoughtfully, and planned the slow and subtle seduction of Pam Beesly.
Story Notes:
Spoilers up til The Fight and then AU from there. Smut.
Author's Chapter Notes:
My first venture into the world of smut...hands up if you like Dark!Jim :)
Chapter End Notes:
Like I said this is my first foray into smut, it might take me a little bit to get there...but probably not too long! Reviews are really helpful for new authors like myself :)
