I
For some reason, the fact of him being unable to speak during their game of jinx has resulted in what feels like the two of them playing some weird kind of emotional chicken. They each keep seeming to take these bizarre steps toward admitting something he’s never come close to actually saying out loud (unless you count his talk with Michael that one stupid time), and that up until now, he wasn’t totally sure she felt in the same way. But something about them both knowing that he won't reply to anything she says makes them both somehow immeasurably more daring and they both keep taking these weird risks that he doesn't really have time to analyze but it sort of feels like a suicide mission.
There's this delirious part of his brain that keeps telling him that maybe if he kisses her while jinxed and unable to explain himself, he can play it off later as not really meaning anything.
And then she starts pushing him to say something to her, to tell her something he’s hiding, and it’s honestly fine and amusing and cute until she says, “You can tell me anything,” and he thinks, Oh, you want to play this game?
He lets the smile fade from his lips as he continues to hold her gaze. At first she gives a silent giggle, scrunching her shoulders together adorably, and then her face becomes more serious and he chooses that moment to look away and raise his eyebrows slightly. We both know I can’t tell you anything. He sneaks a glance at her and he can tell she knows exactly what he’s getting at, and it scares her away.
*
What it scares her into, it turns out, is going out on her lunch break to get a Coca Cola so that he can buy it and then give it back to her and they can go back to talking. And it’s probably silly but it feels to him, as they go into the break room to share her soda, like she’s answering his challenge from earlier, like he scared her into action.
He’s sure of it, actually.
*
He's not usually sure either way, but he’s positive as they walk back through the kitchen to return to their desks that the cameras won't catch them. He can see that half of the production crew is in the conference room interviewing Angela about drug use, and the other half is in Michael's office while he tries to explain the virtues of borrowing (borrowing?!) someone else's urine during company mandated drug testing. He surreptitiously turns his mic off as they walk through the kitchen, and when she hears the clicking sound it makes and looks over at him, he gestures for her to do the same.
She raises her eyebrows at him. Why are we doing this? But he shakes his head and so reaches to turn hers off, squinting her eyes slightly as she smiles at him, and he nods toward the door. She follows him out to the hallway, where he quickly pulls her into the seldom-used handicapped bathroom.
"Jim, what--" she starts, laughter in her voice, but stops and raises her eyebrows when he locks the door. They only have a few minutes before somebody in the control room notices that their mics aren't picking anything up, so if he's going to do this, he's going to have to act fast.
"Did you bring me here to murder me?" She asks, still amused, and he thinks, God, I’m in love with her. He pushes himself forward, away from the door, wrapping one arm around her waist and plunging his other hand into the hair at the nape of her neck, and he's finally, finally kissing her. She gasps against his lips and he pulls away.
"Thanks for getting the Coke," he breaths.
"Don’t mention it," she says, shaking her head quickly, and then they're really kissing, turning in slow circles with their efforts to each touch as much of the other as possible. She's got one hand on his chest and one wrapped under and around his arm to grip his shoulder, and her fingers slowly drift down to his waist to wrap around his belt and he chokes for a second and then pushes her up against the wall, away from him just for a second so he can look at her. His eyes devour her flushed cheeks and dark eyes and heaving chest before he pushes the length of his body up against hers and kisses her still more deeply. He’s thinking, Wow, this is going way better than I ever honestly thought it would, and their frantic hands are starting to wander under the hems of shirts in search of warm, bare skin, and then they hear Dwight yell "JIM!"
They jump back like magnets repelling each other.
"Sorry," he mutters, looking down at the floor, like he can claim that this was an accident. He can see her smoothing her hair out of the corner of his eye.
"Don't be," she says, and when he finally looks back at her, it strikes him that she is smiling with more ease than he's seen in her in a long time.
“I glued his stapler to his desk,” he says by way of explanation, holding his hands up helplessly, and she lets out a laugh and she just looks so beautiful. He takes a tentative step towards her at the same time as she reaches for him and he kisses her again, quickly but soundly, and then rests his forehead against hers.
"Sometimes I really wish I was single,” she murmurs.
And it’s like he’s been floating all this time and her words send him plummeting back to earth. He actually staggers on his feet.
“Me, too,” he finally says quietly.
She flashes him a regretful smile and then she's out the door, leaving him alone to wonder what possibly happens next.
Chapter End Notes:
So, there it is! Sorry it's so angsty, I'm just in that kind of mood right now. Hope you enjoyed it! -s*
watchthesky84 is the author of 10 other stories.
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