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Author's Chapter Notes:

This is your basic "what I did over the summer hiatus" fic.  It's actually the first thing I wrote, but I've been sitting on it because I'm trying to finish a companion piece from Pam's perspective (which is a lot harder for some reason).

Takes place during Gay Witch Hunt, so mild spoilers up to then.  Contains dialogue from Casino Night.

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.

Stealthily, the camera moves in over Jim’s shoulder to focus on his monitor.  An Outlook “Compose Message” window is open.  There is a subject (paper is flammable??), but no outgoing address.

 

Before the shot can open wider, Jim notices he’s no longer alone.  He quickly minimizes everything on his desktop before turning to face the camera.  “What?” he demands.  His characteristic affability is undercut with defensiveness and just a hint of hostility.

 

One of the open windows is an email folder with better than two hundred messages to pam@dundermifflin.com, four or five a day since he started in Stamford two months earlier.  None of them have been sent.  But the camera doesn’t see that.

 

He hasn’t spoken to anyone from the Scranton branch since he left at the end of May, except for Toby.  The HR manager had been in town for a meeting and had made a point to stop by Jim’s desk to say hello.  He’d even suggested they have lunch.

 

Jim suspected that Toby knew about his feelings for Pam.  Of course, everyone in the office knew (thanks to Michael), but Toby seemed to know long before that.  It might have been because of that sixth sense good HR people develop after a while.  Or because, a long time ago, they’d almost been friends.  Jim worried that he’d listen politely to Toby’s stories about his former colleagues, then after a while he’d be unable to stop himself from asking questions he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answers to.  Like how beautiful she had looked walking down the aisle.

 

No, he was sure.  He didn’t want to know.  So he claimed he was waiting for an important call back and couldn’t leave his desk.  Toby had studied him carefully for a moment, then accepted the excuse and wished him well in his new position.

 

He’s settling into his new environment.  The Stamford office is very quiet and he has nothing to focus on but doing the job.  As Sales Manager, he has his own client list, plus he sits in on the meetings Josh has with their biggest customers.  He has an idea that he’s supposed to be assisting Josh with his more general managerial duties, but the office runs so smoothly that it’s never come up.

 

For the first time since he moved out of his parents’ house to go to college, he doesn’t have to share his living space.  It’s nice at first, but he soon realizes that being able to make his own decisions about things like cleaning and groceries is not a great trade-off for not having anyone to talk to.  The apartment is also very quiet and he has nothing to focus on there but the memories he’s trying desperately to shake.

 

He was going to tell her about the transfer to Stamford.

They were alone in the parking lot.  Roy had already left.  It was the perfect moment to speak to her alone, to listen to her congratulations, to ask if she’d miss him.  To see if she’d ask him to stay.

It didn’t quite work out that way.  Their friendship had always had its ups and downs.  That day was one of the ups, maybe the highest.  The unplanned mind-control prank they had played that morning on Dwight had worked out unbelievably well.  They read each other’s signals and communicated without words – even with Roy in the room.

Losing to her at poker was worth it just for the smiles and coy looks she kept shooting him from across the table.  She was still giddy about that, almost dancing with glee in the parking lot as she teased him about taking more of his money.

He was going to tell her about the transfer to Stamford, but that wasn’t what came out of his mouth.

“I’m in love with you.”

She froze and looked at him like she heard the words but couldn’t put together the meaning.  “What?”

"I’m really sorry if that’s weird for you to hear but I needed you to hear it.”  He couldn’t bear her expression anymore and dropped his eyes to the ground between them.  “Probably not good timing, I know that.  I just…”

“What are you doing?” she asked, still more incredulous than anything.

His only response was a quirk of the lips, a tilt of the head as he met her gaze.  She knew exactly what he was doing.

“What do you expect me to say to that?”  Anger was beginning to color her tone.

“I just needed you to know…once.”

She looked away from him and stammered a bit before saying simply, “I can’t.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a small sigh.  There was no surprise.  He knew her better than anyone else in the world and deep down, he had known exactly what she would say.  Even so, he felt tears start to prick the backs of his eyes.

“You have no idea…” she began, but he interrupted.  Predictable or not, he had started this and he wasn’t going to let her take the easy way out.

“Don’t do that…”

“…what your friendship means to me,” she finished resolutely, her eyes begging him not make this worse, not to ruin what they had.  But he had no choice.

“Come on, I don’t want to do that.  I want to be more than that.”

“I can’t,” she repeated.  “I’m really sorry,” she added tentatively, “if you misinterpreted things.  It’s probably my fault.”

He felt the first tear fall as he looked into her eyes and realized he was going to let her finish this on her terms after all.  He shrugged and forced a hint of a smile, as much as he could under the circumstances.  “Not your fault.  I’m sorry I misinterpreted our friendship.”  But he hadn’t misinterpreted anything; she had never led him on or given the slightest hint that she saw him as more than her best friend.  The only thing she had done was be the most incredible girl in the world, the perfect girl for him, if only she would open her eyes and really look at him and realize that her bonehead fiancé didn’t make her happy and didn’t deserve her.

He had spent years pretending to be satisfied with their friendship, trying to convince himself that he didn’t count the minutes until he would see her again, that he didn’t hang on her every word and spend hours dreaming up ways to make her laugh.  That painstakingly-built façade had cracked once already - in January, he admitted the truth to the camera and came so close to telling her everything.  But he waited too long and Roy chose that moment to recommit himself to their relationship and set a wedding date.

Now, with her wedding looming close and the Stamford offer promising escape, he had laid everything on the line.  And she had responded as he had known she would.  That didn’t make it hurt any less. 

He absently wiped at his cheek as he walked away.

 

But he’s good at his job and the empty apartment encourages him to socialize with his coworkers.  He gets along best with Josh, who takes him to his favorite bar after work and shows him pictures of his wife and two little kids.  The sales staff doesn’t warm to him right way.  He’s not their boss but he is “in charge” and he’s an outsider, so he doesn’t blame them.  He also came from the Scranton branch, which they are so careful not to mention that he gets the idea it had been the butt of a lot of jokes.

 

He doesn’t mention anything about the Scranton office.  Even his most affectionate stories would feel disloyal.  He doesn’t want to hurt his former colleagues any more than he already has.  There are probably some burnt bridges in the wake of his hasty departure.  But he couldn’t stay, not a minute longer than was absolutely necessary.  Because he’s learned first-hand that there is something worse than baring his soul and being immediately rejected.

 

He consents to a one-on-one in the conference room.  “Why did I transfer to Stamford?  I think that’s pretty obvious.”  He grins and indicates his new suit.  “I got promoted!”



Leely is the author of 2 other stories.



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