Chapter 1
Pam was sitting at the reception desk on a Friday afternoon around 4:30pm. She had just been goofing around with Jim and had a very satisfied grin on her face. There was really nothing she enjoyed more than finishing off a long workweek with a small prank on Dwight.
Jim had been asking Dwight about a bear’s ability to smell food over long distances, while earlier in the day, Pam had kept asking Dwight if the refrigerator smelled because of all the food in there. So together they had convinced Dwight that any local bears might possibly come looking for the food in the fridge in their kitchen. In Dunder Mifflin. In the business park. In Scranton. Dwight was now cleaning out the fridge and placing all foods in plastic bags, loudly warning anyone within earshot how he was saving them all from a bear attack.
It was only small victory in the war on Dwight, but it wasted most of the day for Pam and Jim… so it was a victory nonetheless.
As Pam was air-high-fiving Jim for a job well done, she heard the door open.
When she turned to the door, Jim saw her eyes open as wide as saucers and her mouth drop open.
In walked the biggest, meanest-looking biker that Pam had ever laid eyes on. When he walked through the door, it looked like his leather jacket clad shoulders would brush the doorframe. Jeez Pam thought… Roy was a big guy, but this guy made him look tiny.
As he walked slowly to the reception desk, she noticed he was really tall and wide at the shoulders, had a black leather bandana wrapped around his head and wrap-around black sunglasses covering his eyes, which he was now sliding up on to the top of his head. He had a good five o’clock shadow over a chiseled jaw and a goatee where the side part stopped a little over the corner of his mouth. Pam likened it to the way Mongolian warlords are always portrayed in movies.
His leather jacket was well-worn and dusty and his tee shirt was clean, but had definitely seen a lot of travel on the road. He was thin at the hip and walked with a definite swagger. His jeans were tight, but not filthy with grease or anything… and his black worn boots made a crunching sound on the carpet... if that was even possible.
As Pam came to her senses and blinked to get her eyes back from saucer size and closed her mouth, this biker had made the six or so steps from the door to her desk. Pam regained her composure and barely managed to squeak out, “Can I help you”?
As the biker took one final step and placed his hands on the desk, he said, “Yes, please. May I speak with Mr. Scott?” His voice was deep and smooth and not at all like the gravelly growl Pam had expected. And then he did something Pam had not expected. He smiled.
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As the biker came into Jim’s view with his last couple of steps, his first thought was that a frickin’ Terminator had walked into the Dunder Mifflin office. As Pam’s eyes returned to normal size and her mouth closed, Jim was swiveling his chair towards the desk and was getting ready to stand. He didn’t know why, but while this guys body language didn’t look like he was mad or anything, he was just the meanest-looking thing on the planet. He figured that if anything was wrong, he could launch himself at this guy and, well, uh, die. This guy looked like he could kill you with a harsh word.
What the hell was he doing here? Who was he here to kill?
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Pam came to her senses and remembered her receptionist training and said politely, “Do you have an appointment?”, looked down and opened the appointment book… looking back at him with a puzzled look… knowing full well that he did not.
Again, the biker, with a polite grin, tapped the desk with his fingertip and said, “No, I’m afraid Mr. Scott was not expecting me. I apologize for not making an appointment ahead of time, but I wonder if you could let him know that Mr. Shore would like to speak with him”.
Pam’s brain was short-circuiting a bit. If she had had her eyes closed, she would think a suited businessman who sold insurance was standing in front of her. His tone, his inflection and his velvety voice was completely at odds with what was really standing in front of her.
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By now, the whole office had stopped whatever they were doing and were facing the reception area. It was dead silent. Except of course for the faint sound of Dwight cursing and fumbling in the kitchen as he cleaned out the fridge.
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As Pam punched in Michael’s extension, she also thought about calling 911, an ambulance, Hank from security… or the army and air force. She was also wondering if she was signing Michael’s death warrant. But a little voice in her head kept saying it was all right. You know how you get a bad feeling about people right off the bat. How you can almost smell trouble on them? Well, she wasn’t getting the vibe from this guy. She had been in enough bars over the years with Roy and Kenny to know when there was trouble afoot. She had a sixth sense sometimes and while everything about this guy screamed trouble and red flags would have seemed to parade behind this guy, she was quite calm. No… she didn’t get that vibe.
“Michael, Mr. Shore is in the reception area to see you. While he doesn’t have an appointment scheduled, he was wondering if you were available to meet with him for a moment”. All she heard from Michael’s end of the line was a gasp and could hear the phone slam down from her ear and from the open door of his office.
In about three seconds, Michael came skidding out of his office and stood facing reception with his eyes wide as saucers. It looked like terror, thought Pam. No. Not terror. Surprise. Jim was looking at Michael and back at Pam then to the biker and back to Michael. He could swear he was looking at a gunfight at the OK Corral.
As Pam looked at the biker, he stood stock-still, his hands folded in front of him… a completely unreadable expression on his face. As she looked at Michael, his surprised look slowly began to turn to something else. The corners of his mouth turned down and his brows knitted. Holy crap, it looked like Michael was going to cry. His chin started to quiver and with that, he took off at a full run.
Straight towards the biker.
The biker took two steps forward and intercepted Michael. Even though Michael was at a full run, the biker just absorbed his momentum and wrapped his arms around him in a tight bear hug.
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Jim was up from his seat the moment Michael took off and, well basically just stood there. No guns were drawn, no knives flashing, no fists flying… just a bear hug. Pam’s mouth was back to hanging open, Phyllis had gasped, Creed was actually standing about three steps behind Jim now (how did he get all the way over here thought Jim) and Kevin was standing up with a look of concern on his face.
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Pam could see Michael’s face and… he was crying. Big fat tears splashed down on the biker’s dusty jacket… making long black streaks where it had been dusty gray and he kept muttering, “I’m so sorry Donnie, I’m so, so sorry Donnie.” The bilker’s large hands patted Michael’s back and Pam could faintly hear him say, “I know Mikey, I know”.
After what seemed like the longest 40 seconds ever, Michael let go and stepped back from the biker. He straightened his suit, quickly wiped his eyes and actually brushed at the biker’s leather jacket where his tears had stained it. Michael chuckled a little to himself, smiled and said, “Well, that’ll never do Mr. Shore, you’ll have to look presentable” At that moment, the biggest smile Jim had ever seen became part of the bikers face and he let out a loud, infectious rolling laugh. Michael just smiled at him and laughed along with him.
And the biker, with a huge smile on his face said, “Mr. Scott, may I have a moment of your time, in your office?” And Michael just bowed and waved his hand towards his office door and said, “I didn’t know you were coming.” And Mr. Shore, the biker just let out another loud laugh and said, That’s what she said!”, as the door clicked behind them.
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Chapter End Notes:
Should I keep going with this story? Reviews will keep the chapters coming.
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.
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.
