Jim tugged at his collar in an effort to fan himself off. Despite the blistering chill outside, the mall was unbearably hot and the raucous, pushy, and urgent patrons who packed its interior were not making his current situation any easier. He glanced to his left, rolling his eyes emphatically as he surveyed Andy tussling with the rack of women's winter apparel from which he definitely would not choose.

For some insane reason that was now beyond him, he had agreed to spend his Saturday afternoon browsing the bustling Steamtown Mall with Andy. All so the hapless dope could find a last minute "spectacular" gift for his Secret Santa recipient.

Nevermind that Secret Santas had been issued in the office nearly a month ago. And it was now the week before Christmas. Oh, and that the office Christmas party a mere two days away. Other than that, yeah, it was totally not a big deal at all.

He tried to remind himself repeatedly that what he was doing was ultimately for the benefit of Andy’s recipient – Pam. When Andy had come to him with raised eyebrows, that ridiculous grin, and the ultra-top-secret information about who he was given just a couple days ago, Jim very literally leapt at the prospect of accompanying The ‘Nard Dog on his hunt for the “perfect gift” for Pam. Truthfully, Jim couldn’t quite bear the notion of leaving Andy to his own devices, fearing very much that his fellow salesman would scrounge up something … inappropriate, for lack of a better term. His mind’s eye had conjured many different scenarios, none of them pretty, all of them ending with Pam’s crumpled and distraught and/or disgusted face.

However, in retrospect, maybe it wasn’t the wisest choice he had ever made to join Andy on his expedition. Thankfully, Andy hadn’t yet made a foul or suggestive idea as far as present propositions went, but the guy was taking FOREVER to find something, and anything he had already picked was just … absurd. And, really, at this point, Jim was getting to where he was planning to steer Andy right into Bath & Body Works to pick out some random lotion set so they could finally get the hell out of this place and so he could find his way into a comfortable evening.

“Okay, seriously?” Jim groaned aloud when he looked again, finding Andy brandishing a faux-fur lined vest toward him. “Did you even read Pam’s request list?”

Andy looked up, startled perhaps by the aggravation rife in Jim’s voice. “What? Of course I, uh, read the…“ He stammered off on a nervous laugh, returning the vest to its place with a lingering stare. “It’s just, it’s kind of pretty, right?” He glanced back up, and Jim heaved another sigh, beckoning him toward the exit of the shop.

As they stepped into the hallway proper, both men drew steadying breaths when facing the flow of the crowd. “Your girl is a serious pain in the hoo-ha to shop for, Tuna,” Andy remarked as they crossed the flooded aisle, on direct course toward (thank the Lord, Jim praised the heavens) Bath & Body Works.

“We're talking no furs, no clothes, no stuffed animals, no jewelry. I mean, how do you even shop for her? What kind of girl is she?” They paused, letting a woman and her downtrodden-looking husband squeeze out of the store, and Andy whirled upon Jim with a suddenly apprehensive stare. “Or is she even a girl at all?”

Jim contained himself and slid through the doors behind Andy, biting the inside of his cheek to fend off any retaliating comments regarding Andy's own choice in women. “She is definitely a girl,” he assured quickly, snapping his head to the right at the faint smell of apple spice. Familiar and comforting, he immediately liked it, noting it as a flavor from Pam’s personal selection. “She’s just low-key, Andy. And besides, this is only Secret Santa. I don’t know why you’re putting all this effort into—“

“Because I want Pam to like me, dude!” Andy interjected vehemently as they rounded the display of gift sets, effectively drawing Jim’s attention. Off his concerned look, Andy bowed his head, and he frowned (pouted) at the set of Vanilla and Honey bath supplies. “It’s just that sometimes I think I kind of … get on her nerves or something? She gives me this look when we’re talking, like she’s envisioning something really, really bad or violent happening to me. It’s totally weird and kind of makes me uncomfortable, honestly.”

Jim fought the urge to chuckle at how very accurate Andy’s observation truly was, instead opting to rub at the back of his neck and dig up something noncommittal to appease him. “Nah, she’s just, uhm …. Pam’s just kind of difficult to get to know, Andy,” he half-lied, purposely drifting his gaze away from his coworker. “You know, she doesn’t really get along with everyone there—“

“She gets along with you,” Andy pointed out with a hitched eyebrow.

“Well, yeah,” Jim snorted. “I am her boyfriend. I’m just saying—“

“And she likes Toby and Oscar,” he cut in again, moving around Jim to inspect the tester for some peach-and-mango scented lotion. “I mean, they always talk a lot and they had that whole stupid Finer Things Club, which they totally wouldn’t even let me join!” As he blustered on, Andy’s pitch grew more petulant, threatening to ingnite the ire of his associate.

Jim inhaled deeply and gave another firm half-shake of his head, desperately trying to reel in his instinct to make a casual, yet slanderous quip. “Look, for what it’s worth, they didn’t want me in the club either.”

“Oh. For real?” Andy appeared genuinely shocked for a moment, before he pulled a face at the next lotion bottle and breezed by it. “See, that makes zero sense, Tunes. I mean, you’re her boyfriend. You should be allowed at least, like, some kind of trial guarantee,” he mused and crinkled his nose at the scents that followed in the next two testers.

“Honestly, they were ridiculously exclusive, and trust me when I say: I know exclusive," Andy continued as Jim flicked through a few buckets of flavored lip gloss disinterestedly. "I mean, I participated in over half the extracurriculars offered at Cornell when I was there, and some of those clubs?” He granted Jim a serious look and an equally significant arch of his brow. Obviously, Andy was trying to make a point, but it was one that Jim allowed to sail over his head. “Well, let me tell you, you don't just saunter in with a frikkin’ bowtie and some dumb china. You had to prove your worth, and it was not easy.”

“Yep, well!” Jim interposed a little too brightly as he pivoted to face Andy. “Fascinating as this is, we should really just find her something and,” he clenched his teeth, tipped his head toward the door, “get right on out of here! So pick something aaand we’ll get gone!”

As though on cue, Andy grabbed at the next bottle, twirled it in a flourish, and lifted it toward Jim’s nose. “Feast your sniffer on this, Tuna. Your gal much of a coconut woman? Or is she picky about her lotion, too?”

Permitting himself a tentative whiff, Jim presented an evasive expression. Though he had never been particularly fond of the scent, this brand seemed to strike his own personal interest, arousing in his brain a flash of coconuted-scented Pam. He made an effort to shrug it off. “Not too bad. I mean, I like it, so—“

“Ahh-haaa,” Andy winked rather fiendishly, and Jim hated himself at once for letting something so interpretable slip from his lips. Good job, he cursed his lack of forethought, as Andy waggled the bottle of lotion in his face temptingly. “Heeeey, now. We’re supposed to be shopping for The Lady Tuna, not for you. Buuut, if you really want—“

“I absolutely don’t want,” Jim waved his hand quickly in dismissal and pulled his lips in tight, working overtime to redact his earlier appreciation. “Nope, this is for Pam, and I don’t even know— Okay, you know what?” He restarted his sentence abruptly, pointing his thumb toward the exit, “I’m just gonna go … sit outside. You find something, then come get me, and we’ll go. Alright?”

He barely gave Andy a second to respond before he pivoted, pushing between two entrants in his hasty escape. Cautiously, Jim eyed the landscape and approached a bench located in the middle of the aisle that was blessedly uninhabited. Lowering his aching and awkward limbs, he settled and shoved his hand into his hoodie pocket to dig up his cell phone. He flipped it open, hit the number three, and lifted it to his ear.

One ring sang, and his face immediately lit up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you,” he grinned.

“Hey! I just tried your house phone!”

“Oh, I’m not there,” Jim offered, as though it were not apparent.

“Obviously,” Pam snorted on the other end, and his grin stretched wider. “What’re you doing?”

“Well, we’re certainly nosy today. What’s with the third degree, Beesly?”

“Hey, you called me.”

“Technically, you called me first,” he teased, casting a look over his shoulder toward the Bath and Body Works. Still no Bernard, so he let himself ease a little more into the bench and into his phone. “And I’m just, uh, out and about. Shopping.”

“For what, groceries? You went yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Stalker,” Jim mocked, pretending to be offended when all the while enjoying her giggle on the other end. “Nah, I’m just, uh—“ To his left, he caught a brief glimpse of bright orange; the same shade as Andy’s sweater vest. “Looking for some last minute Christmas stuff, that’s all.”

“Oh? So, what else did you buy me?”

“You are just all over it today,” he laughed and so did she, and he shook his head, trying to rid himself of that smitten look before Andy got any closer. “What makes you think I even got you anything at all? ‘Cause, you know, Santa isn’t really all that fond of presumptuous young women.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a large bag swinging for show. He fended off Andy with a flick of his index finger as Pam continued in his ear, “Oh, come on! Everyone knows that’s Santa’s favorite kind of young woman.”

“Definitely not Santa’s. Probably mine,” Jim rolled his eyes at Andy’s further urging, the bag narrowly missing the side of his face this time. “Hold—hold on,” he stammered into the receiver, pulling it away from his mouth to give Andy a stern look. “Hey. I am on the phone.”

“Eeyeah, I can clearly see that,” Andy ducked his head toward the object. “I just think it’s kind of rude that you would bail on our highly anticipated man-bonding so that you can—“

“Hey, is that Andy?” The muffled yet nevertheless surprised voice of Pam sounded between Jim’s fingertips. “Jim, are you actually out with—“

“What-— are you kidding me?!” Andy hissed, looking suddenly aghast at the soft sound emitting from Jim’s cell phone. “You called the missus? Hang up, man!”

Jim ducked out of Andy’s reach as he made an ill-fated grab at his phone, and Jim lifted it again to his ear with a nervous chuckle. “No, no! That’s, uh— some … guy! I mean, why would I—“

“Seriously. Dude. Wrap. It. Up!” Andy barked, and Jim bent his torso as far from him as possible. “This is totally uncool, Tuna!”

“He just said 'Tuna,'” Pam deadpanned.

“This is by far the least cool thing you have ever done to me!”

As Andy continued to ramble indignantly, Jim bit his lip and lowered his head, trying to clog his free ear with his finger. “No, this guy, uh, bought … tuna. See, I’m at this weird seafood-Christmas store.” Definitely his least convincing fib – he could actually hear her palpable disbelief from the other end. “Listen, let me call you back when I’m not surrounded by crazy, last minute shoppers, okay?”

“Fine. But I want a full report when you do!”

“Sure. Love you,” he blurted hastily and closed the phone, dodging another lethal swipe of Andy’s hand. “Andy, seriously, cut it out! Where were you raised that says it’s okay to do that?”

“I was raised in a place where one dude does not bail on another dude while they are shopping for the former dude’s girlfriend’s Secret Santa present,” Andy counted off with a prominent and disappointed scowl on his face. “That’s where I was raised. Where were you raised, hm?”

“Scranton. Pennsylvania,” Jim replied shortly and pushed up from the bench. “Where people aren’t so bizarrely discourteous, trying to pull another person’s cell phone out of their hand while they’re talking to their girlfriend.”

Andy scoffed loudly, his arms folding across his chest in a pompous show. “She could’ve heard and then the whole surprise of Secret Santa would’ve been spoiled.” He stepped closer toward Jim, who readily moved back a pace, feeling his personal bubble infringed upon. “Would you really want that one on your shoulders, Tuna? Ruining Christmas for your lady?”

Though it ate much of his insides to do so, Jim managed to find the strength and serenity to calm himself, channeling a much more peaceful Jim to deal with the many levels of outrageousness provided within that statement. “Okay, first of all? I seriously doubt that that would ruin Christmas for Pam,” he slowly began. “Second: Andy, I don’t even know what you got her—“

“Well, you would if you didn’t just abandon me in there,” Andy bit out spitefully, his head turned coldly away from Jim. “But, you know what? It’s cool, Tuna. I see the way it is. Hoes actually come before bros with you, and I…” He faltered and sucked in a sharp breath. “I just have to accept that from you, I guess.”

If he folded his lips much harder, Jim was sure that they would crack and bleed. “Yeah, don’t, uh … don’t refer to Pam as a ho, Andy,” he requested in what was sure to be one of his quietest, most grown-up voices, if Andy's careful glance that followed had been any proof. “And yeah, you do have to accept that.”

“Fine,” Andy shrugged and tried to pull off looking indifferent – quite poorly, at that. “I do.”

“Good, then. We’re settled,” Jim lifted his hands to ward off any further confrontation and he rolled his shoulders. “Let’s go. I’m sure you want to get home to Angela or whatever as soon as possible, so…”

With his trailing statement, he began to wander toward the exit, finding Andy dawdling a few paces behind him. They meandered together in silence, the bag rustling and crinkling between them as they wound between other customers and noisy children, and gradually, Jim felt his heart softening at the downcast look on his companion’s face. Sure, this had most assuredly not been his ideal way to spend the afternoon – had it been anywhere near “ideal,” there would’ve been something more significant than a phone call involving Pam. And of course Andy had been more than annoying in his over-the-top attitude and, well, his entire ‘Andyness’ overall, but really, had he given him any initial benefit of the doubt?

And to top it off, he reminded himself with a look between them, they had gone shopping for Pam. Andy was actually doing something for Pam, the person Jim cared most for in the world, and he couldn’t offer a little bit of courtesy in return? Was this not the Christmas season? And so he rode the wave of guilt, until it spurred him into action.

Bracing himself, Jim straightened his back and threw a wary look across to the sobered man beside him. “So, uh … what did you get her, anyway?”

“Do you care?” Andy pretended to bristle, but Jim knew better.

“Sure,” Jim offered as pleasantly as he could, another (more obvious) glance granted to the bag at Andy’s side. “Lay it on me.”

Andy halted in his steps just before the exit, and both men stepped aside for the benefit of an entering couple. With a conspiratorial smile, he began to lift the bag along with his eyebrows - but at once, he lowered them and cocked his head, a squint to his eyes as though he were sizing Jim up. “I actually can’t do that, Tuna.”

“Wait-— what?” Jim laughed, unsure. “Andy, c’mon. You can show me. I wanna know, and it’s not like I’m going to tell her or anything.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Andy’s mouth was working to conceal a grin, but it appeared as though it were too great a feat for him. Immediately, Jim became suspicious. He recognized that look, and the subtle shift of Andy’s grin into a smirk had him recoiling uncertainly.

“It’s just, uh … this is more of a present for the both of you,” he intoned, dipping his eyebrows suggestively, and Jim bit back a moan of agony at the reveal. “So, I do believe we will just save this surprise for a later date.” Andy patted the face of the bag, all proud of himself, and Jim absolutely despised him for it.

“Andy, seriously, you can just tell me and I swear I will act surprised when Pam opens it on Monday,” Jim began to plead of his coworker, making a grab toward the parcel as Andy swung it just out of reach. “I just-— I really, really should know what you got her.”

“Iee don’t think so,” Andy’s amusement grew and so too did Jim’s horror. “But I promise you,” he dipped his head close to Jim’s, who felt his stomach unceremoniously fall out of him, “you guys are gonna love it."