Story Notes:
When I first started writing fanfic, most of my ideas came immediately after watching an episode. Angst resolution, funny (and serious) conversations, that sort of thing. Nothing will be AU. I have stuff from all the seasons, so their relationship will be all over the place, and not necessarily in any kind of order--just as I finish ones that are speaking to me at any given time. Sound fun?
Thanks to WhatAWaste for the title Après. Will you put down the poky stick now, woman?! :)
Thanks to WhatAWaste for the title Après. Will you put down the poky stick now, woman?! :)
Author's Chapter Notes:
No copyright infringement intended. Not my characters.
the fight: so many romantic misunderstandings
The most awkward afternoon ever was also proving to be intolerably long. Pam could feel Jim’s eyes on her, and steadfastly refused to hazard a glance in his direction, though her anger from that… thing… at the dojo had long since evaporated. She was more embarrassed than anything, really, and she blamed herself. She’d crossed the line a number of times today, given in to an urge to touch him that had become increasingly impossible to resist. Holding on to her indignity was the only way to keep her distance. And distance was clearly what she needed. A reality check. She had a fiancé, for God’s sake.
Angela was right. She was a hussy.
Still, the hurt in his face when she caught him looking at her was more than she could bear. When five o’clock rolled around at long last, and Jim started slowly gathering his things, she kept her eyes trained on her monitor. He was stalling, and she knew why; she didn’t want to leave things like this either, especially over the weekend, but she forced herself not to acknowledge him until she heard the rustle of the chips bag on her counter and his voice, soft, wishing her a happy weekend.
By the time she let herself look up, he was gone.
~~~~
Roy left for Darryl’s to play with his new Xbox half an hour after they got home. She made no objection, but secretly she wished that just this once he’d wanted to spend Friday night with her; she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts tonight. Not that she could tell him what was bothering her. There wasn’t really a way to explain that she was upset about having a fight with Jim that wouldn’t lead to questions she didn’t want to answer.
Unsettled and restless, she puttered around looking for something to occupy her mind and her hands, but she couldn’t focus. She ran a hot bath, but got out after ten minutes. She poured a shot of tequila from the bottle of Cuervo in the freezer, then stared at it until it grew warm. Friday night TV sucked, so she put in a favorite video, the first Austin Powers, but that reminded her of Jim and the day he’d spent egging Michael on when he was on a roll saying “Yeah baby!” about everything.
She turned it off and stared at her cell phone for a good long while before she pulled it across the table toward her. Flipped it open. He was fourth on her speeddial. Voicemail, Roy, her parents…
Jim Halpert.
Just looking at his name gave her an odd, indefinable sense of peace.
Her finger hesitated over the number only a moment before she pressed down, gingerly, almost too lightly to dial, but the keypad was sensitive and in a blink it was dialing.
“Hello?”
His voice sounded normal, casual. There was a lot of noise in the background; loud music, a woman singing off-key. Oh God he’s with Katy, she realized in horror, but it was too late. “Pam?”
Her tongue seemed to large for her mouth. “Um,” she managed.
“Pam?” he said again.
“Uh, yeah?” It came out a question.
“Hey! Would you—wait, hang on,” he said, and she had no choice but to wait, too late to hang up now. The sounds grew muffled, the music quieter, then gone altogether. Was he at a bar, and stepped outside? Or maybe he was having friends over, and here she was interrupting his evening.
He wasn’t upset anymore, in any case. Stupid. Of course he wasn’t; it didn’t mean anything, she didn’t mean anything.
“Hey,” he said finally, quietly.
“Hey.” She chewed on her bottom lip.
The silence stretched out for an interminably long moment. At last she blurted, “I’m sorry,” but he spoke at the same time. She didn’t catch it. “What?”
“I said I’m sorry.” Jim cleared his throat. “About, you know, earlier. I didn’t mean…”
“No, it’s okay, that’s—me too. I mean, I’m sorry,” she said in a rush. “I, um, I overreacted.” She paused. “I wanted to thank you for the chips,” she added lamely, just for something to say.
He laughed, kind of, a soft exhale more like a snort. “Never say I don’t keep my end of the deal.” His voice was low and amused; she could hear the smile in it, and she felt like a great weight had been lifted. He’s not mad.
“Are you…what are you doing? I should let you go probably.” She twisted a lock of hair around her index finger.
“Oh, nah, I’m just at my friend Pat’s. He’s having kind of a party.”
“Kind of?”
“Well, there’s…six people here, and a case of beer. So.”
“Are you drunk?” she teased. She’d never seen him drunk. He was probably a cute drunk. Not like Roy, who gave wet, sloppy kisses and left big sweat patches on the sheets.
“Maybe. A little. I have had…” He paused, and in her mind’s eye she could see him squinting thoughtfully, making one of his faces, “…several beers.”
“Ooh.” She smiled. “I had a shot of tequila.”
“Really?” He sounded surprised.
“No,” she admitted.
He laughed. As always, the sound of it made her smile, made her want to hear it again immediately.
“Well, that’s a shame,” he chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re drunk.”
His voice was low and husky and the way he said you’re cute made her feel warm all over. “How would you know,” she murmured.
He laughed again. “The Dundies, Pam? God. You were blitzed.”
“Oh…” She flushed. Blitzed. Yes. Not blitzed enough to forget kissing him, though. Does he even remember? She swallowed. “Right.”
“So,” he yawned. “What are you doing?”
“Just …watching TV,” she lied.
“Exciting,” he teased, then, more cautiously, “Where’s Roy?”
“Over at Darryl’s.”
“Oh.”
Silence fell again, heavy and awkward. She frowned, pinching between her eyes as she tried to think of something to say. “You should probably get back to your friends,” she said finally, unable to come up with a reason to keep him on the line.
“Eh. Not ‘til Lisa stops singing that ridiculous song.” Was his voice a little slurred? “ ‘I didn’t steal your boyfriend,’ ” he sang, off-key, and she laughed despite the unpleasant twisting in her belly, wondering who was this Lisa person.
“Besides.” He sighed heavily, a tired sound. “You’re my friend.”
It definitely wasn’t right, how warm that simple sentiment made her feel. Her whole body felt flushed. “I am?” she murmured, knowing she was fishing now, unable to help herself.
“ ‘I am?’ ” he teased. “Of course.” He paused and added softly, “What, I’m not your friend?”
She smiled. “Of course. You’re my best friend,” she admitted.
He was quiet for a moment. “Yeah?” he said finally, his voice soft. Pleased.
Her smile broadened. “Yeah. Definitely.”
There was another pause, not very long, but long enough that she started to feel panicked and embarrassed. “Listen, I have to go,” she said abruptly.
“Oh…okay.” He hesitated. “Pam.”
“Jim,” she interrupted. You don’t have to.
“You’re my best friend too,” he said, quiet but firm. Then, brightly, “Have a good weekend. See you Monday?”
She couldn’t stop smiling. “You know it. Same bat time, same bat channel.”
He laughed. “G’night, Beesly.”
“Good night, Jim.” The phrase felt almost too intimate on her tongue. She seldom talked to him at night.
She clicked the end button and stared at the display.
Call ended 4:32
~
Chapter End Notes:
I don't know how long I'll continue to be inspired, but I hope you enjoy them, while it lasts. :) Thanks for reading. Comments are appreciated.
