A/N: Thanks so much to S.K at the boards for giving me this post to help inspire a story: I got to wondering what might have happened on Jan's women at the work place seminar had the cameras not been there. First of all, would Michael be that out of control, if there were no outsiders to "impress"? But more importantly, if Pam didn't have the cameras to witness her little break down, would she confide in Jim? If she did, how would Jim react? Or would she just keep everything bottled up? My rationale behind this wonderment is that the dreams are just that TH was taped before the scene with Jim in the kitchen, so Pam had already got the crying out of her system by that point, therefore being able to at least try and put on an indifferent front. But what if she hadn't had that chance to vent before Jim confronted her and was still weepy and vulnerable instead of defensive? I took some ideas out of this, and have about half of this written, so it shouldn't take long to finish (twss). S.K also gave me five words to incorporate, which I'm going to attempt to do, but we'll see how far I get. They're: sleeve, snow plow, potted plant, chapstick, and Dwight's nunchucks.
We'll see what happens. This will only be a few chapters.
Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine.
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I'm chewing on the end of my pen with my right hand sitting on my mouse when my boss walks in. And it's not even like I'm about to work, with my hand poised there. I've been literally doing nothing for the past -- check the clock, sixteen minutes -- and my eyes are so focused on absolutely nothing that I can feel them crossing until the click of the door closing breaks the monotony.
Well, that's great. I'm glad that this is how I look when my boss walks in.
I see Pam inflate with that kind of energy you use to wake yourself up. She sits up straighter and takes a deep breath, smiles at Jan and curls her hair behind her ear.
"Hi, Jan," she says quietly, picking up her phone and holding it next to her ear. She looks up at Jan and points to Michael's office. "Do you want me to let him know you're here?"
Jan holds up her hand swiftly and purses her lips, gripping the strap of her bag on her shoulder. She always looks so important. And on time. And just... like she's always in charge. I crinkle my nose and look away. I wonder if she was born in a trimmed blazer and heels. If her parents were scared of her as she grew up.
Maybe Pam would laugh at that. I don't mean to, but I look up at her as she's still pointing to the office. Her lips are parted and pink, and she's wearing this blue shirt I haven't seen before with the gray cardigan I've seen a million times. The thought makes me smile.
"Okay," Pam says with a soft voice and sets the phone back down.
"Good morning, everybody," Jan says, primly, barely noticing our collective lack of response as she digs into her bag and pulls out a large stack of papers. "You may have noticed --"
"Jan!" It's Michael, that should be obvious, and he's in the doorway of his office looking winded. "Did they tell you? The cameras aren't here. I think something's going on."
Dwight's ears perk up and Jan shakes her head. It's true, they aren't here today, but sometimes that happens and most of us just accept it happily and treat it like a holiday. There not always a joy to have around. You know, like on days where you realize your fly has been down since you arrived or something.
Pam always tells me that the camera crew-less days never come when she wants them to. She says that every time she feels like she looks extra pale and her hair is super-frizzy and she has no makeup on, the camera is right in her face. And when she tries, the ghost of the camera being ever-present isn't in the office. She says these things because she's pretty much insane, like she could ever... not look cute. And besides, as creepy as this will sound, I do enough glancing over at her when they're not here. Which is also better for me, because it seems like every time I do look over at Pam -- just for a second -- there's a lens in my face when I turn back around. Hard to recover from.
I'm halfway through a "that's what she said" in my head when Jan's voice interrupts me.
"I thought it would be wise to ask the crew not to film today," she says precisely, which a few of us follow with a grateful sigh. "It seems that every year I try and hold a Women in the Workplace seminar, the... people not involved get a little carried away, and I feel the presence of the crew exacerbates this."
Michael nods and then sharply turns his head towards her. "What 'bates' what? I'm sorry, but I missed the first part of that word -- never, never mind. Hey! So, is this going to be a group thing?"
Jan pauses and just stares at Michael. I see Pam bite her lip and look down in embarrassment for him, and I shrug and roll my eyes a bit. I feel like an ass for doing so, because my seat is directly between my two bosses, so I swivel my chair and look at my computer screen again.
"No, Michael," Jan says, and I hear her take a slow breath in. She lets it out as she continues. "I'd like to speak to the women in the conference room in about ten minutes, so we'll say about 10:30, and we'll probably go right up to lunch. Sound good? Great."
My eyes meet Pam's and she widens her eyes and shakes her head.
I pull up an email to her as I hear Jan's heels leave the area and make their way into Michael's office. I hear Jan murmur his name about a million times as Michael protests... whatever, and I'm grinning as I type to her.
Will you let me know if you watch a video of your changing bodies? Play Truth or Dare? Braid each others' hair? Have a pillow fight in your underwear?
My fingers stop over the keys. I delete the last question. I'm sure Pam wouldn't think I'm serious or anything, but for some reason I just can't ask her that one.
About a minute after I hit send, she has a reply waiting for me. I realize I've been staring at the screen again. Another bonus -- or not -- for camera crew-less days? I get next to nothing done.
Absolutely. Do you want me to call you in there once the video plays? That way you could see what you're missing.
I look up at her with one of those "really, now?" smiles but she isn't looking up. She ribs on me for my lack of a dating life now? Or she's just having fun. Chill out, I remind myself. Nevertheless, her sense of humor gets me every time, so I love her and hate her both, a little more, for the joke.
Did I send this to Packer on accident?
I'm actually beginning to work when I feel her eyes on me. I look up and she's giggling, just shoulders shaking and no noise, with her tongue in-between her teeth. Beautiful. Now I'll get some work done for sure.
I smirk at her and look down at my desk. My face is on fire.
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Every time I hear Jan say one of their names, I can hear their muted response. Short and awkward. It's no secret Jan isn't impressed by much of our branch, and I think they all recognize it. But each time I hear Jan say Pam's name, I barely hear a trace of her voice, she's so quiet.
There are a couple times that Michael walks in and "delivers a message" to Jan. I don't have my chair facing that way anymore, but I imagine the look on her face isn't pretty. And while the door is ajar, I hear Jan encourage the women to continue their answers to her questions.
"Well," Pam says, and her voice is so warm and careful, I can hear her smile come through. "I always dreamed of a house with a terrace upstairs. Plant flowers on it, stuff like that."
I'm listening so intently as I tap my pencil on my desk that I don't notice Dwight leap across and grab it from me. I actually shake when he does this, startled and watch him throw it across the room towards the potted plant next to the conference room door.
"What is the matter with you?" Dwight says, infuriated. "Do you live to drive people insane?"
Aside from being exhausted, bored and pretty apathetic right now, I'm more interested in hearing Pam's response then messing with Dwight right now. I get up and walk quietly to the space by the door and look for my pencil. As if I need it, really.
"But um, more seriously," Pam begins, looking down. She's fiddling with her pen and glances back up, when our eyes meet.
"A husband that I love," Pam starts, and I brace myself for the name, because it just stings, but she ends up not saying it at all. I wish that meant something. Her eyes dart away from me though, and I'm embarrassed. I tap the eraser end of the pencil against the palm of my hand and then she looks over at me once more when I'm walking away. "And I love to draw."
Her eyes light up when she says it and, god, I actually wink at her. Not totally sure why. When she starts talking about art, or anything she really wants to do, actually, I get this burn in my chest. It's like this really unfortunate pride that I have for her, because she might not be mine to be proud of. But I always am, and sometimes I have to let her know and, well... I guess today it meant winking at her. It's so humiliating though I just grin to myself and dip my chin down and start to move.
"She's real good," Phyllis says confidently and Pam thanks her.
"You know," Jan begins, but stops to turn towards me, "Jim, would you mind closing that door for us?"
I look up and raise my brow. "What? Oh, yeah, sure."
Pam smiles at me like she's thanking me, too. I'm too tired to think of what that means, what she would be thanking me for. And I'm trying to get back to work anyway.
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"Hey, guess what," Pam says, taking a drink from her Dixie cup when she meets me at the water cooler.
Cold water seems to be what I needed, so I just look at her over the top of my cup as I take a drink.
"We watched a video about our changing bodies," she says, tucking an arm across her chest and gesturing with her cup towards the conference room.
I look over that way with a smile. "Did you really?"
"No," she says and we both look down and laugh. Pam tosses her cup into the small trash can and looks up at me with different eyes, and a hand on her necklace. "No, hey, but something kind of cool. I told Jan about how I like to, you know, draw and everything."
I smile as she flutters her hand like by "drawing" she means painting by numbers or something. If this was my girlfriend, I would grab her hand and tell her to stop telling herself short. And kiss the hell out of her. Do the thing where I hold her so tight and ask her to draw me a picture, because I love everything she makes.
"Yeah," I say, my voice still rough. I refill my cup because that will fix everything.
"I guess there's this design internship in New York," she says, eyes meeting mine straight on as she keeps fiddling with the chain around her neck. "She was telling me about it and it sounds like, really great."
There's that burn again. "Pam! That is cool. When does it start?" Thank god the cameras aren't here, because I'm pretty sure I'm about to hug her.
She opens her mouth and sticks a thumb over her shoulder towards the conference room. "Well --"
"I mean, you're going to do it, right?" I ask, tilting my head to the side with an easy smile. It's the most awake I've felt all day. I don't wait for her response, and I just laugh. "I think you should do it."
She seems to pause and gauge my reaction. So I just go for it. More for her benefit than mine, maybe.
"That's great," I say and reach down to curl my arms around her. She seems a little surprised, because we don't really do this often, but she puts her arms around me nonetheless. I have one of my hands up on her shoulders and it's touching the ends of her hair for a split second before I'm too conscious of it, and I pull away.
She's touching my shirt, where her hand has slid to, but then she pulls it away and it's back up to her neck again. "Yeah, it sounds really great."
We nod, just bob our heads until I straighten and scratch at my eyebrow. "Oh! Did she give you any information on it?"
She looks genuinely excited now and clasps her hands together. "Yeah, she gave me a pamphlet about it. It's through the company, I don't know."
I look at her with my eyes really wide and wait for her to do it.
She realizes what I'm waiting for and smiles widely. "Oh, you want to see it?"
Pam sounds so unbelieving that I laugh at her. "Yes, obviously," I say, looking away and back to my desk. I start walking over to my chair. I think I act smarter when I'm sitting down, anyway. "Go get it, I want to see it."
She continues to look at me for a beat, gritting her teeth, before softening it into her pretty smile and nodding. "Okay," she says quietly and jets off to the other room.
She's too great, and I know I'm in too deep. But when she's genuinely... like this about something? I nurture it. Can't help it. Water it like a plant. Besides, I'm excited for her, too. She's my best friend, why shouldn't I be?
My pencil breaks in half when I bend it. I'm surprised, but it's not the first time my body is just as frustrated with the term "best friend" as I am. I toss the pieces into a drawer and take a deep breath.
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I'm aiming for season two angst. I know it's slow in picking up (or, boring), but we'll get there. What do we think so far?
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© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali
© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali