Pam’s arm hurt. Kelly wasn’t actually holding onto it anymore, but the surprising strength with which she’d hauled Pam nigh-bodily into the break room still lingered in the wrenched feeling in her elbow. She massaged the joint subtly with the other hand while she tried to keep track of Kelly’s frantic flow of words. She caught words like “cute” and “Jim” and “tall” and couldn’t help herself from nodding along. He certainly was tall, and cute, and gangly in a way she wouldn’t have said attracted her if she hadn’t actually just met him. She shook herself gently. She didn’t like gangly. She liked…solid. Thick. Like Roy. Roy had always reminded her of The Thing from the Marvel comics she’d grown up reading (the one thing she and her father had in common, actually: he read them for the stories, she for the vibrant, often impossible illustrations, but each had noticed enough about the other’s interests to keep up a conversation). He was much handsomer, of course. She’d always felt vaguely sorry for Ben Grimm, whereas Roy had been the cock of the walk ever since middle school. And yet, if she was honest, the similarity was almost more in their attitudes towards the world, always with a chip on their shoulder, than in their physiques. But Ben had a reason—they called him The Thing, and he’d been reasonably handsome before the transformation—and Roy…Roy never really had, had he? But regardless, that was the kind of body she liked. Squat. Powerful. Not long and lanky. Except Jim really was…what was it Kelly had just said? “A tall drink of water.” And she was surprisingly thirsty.
Literally, too. She wished again that they had a teapot in the office…she could really go for something to drink right now and she hated coffee. It reminded her too much of late-night study sessions after Roy had kept them out partying all night. She grabbed a mug and filled it with water while letting Kelly’s jabbering pour over her. It was soothing—too soothing, it turned out, because Kelly had paused and was clearly looking for a response.
“I’m sorry?” She’d found that with Kelly, despite the extreme way she reacted to almost everything, it was actually best to be upfront when one had not been listening, because her reaction was almost always to fill you in, unlike some people (well, OK, mostly Dwight and Roy) who would just sniff that you ought to have been listening from the start.
“I said, isn’t he just so perfect?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Pam blurted, feeling a little guilty for commenting on the perfection of a guy who wasn’t Roy. Trying to reconstruct the conversation, she essayed what seemed like a safe follow-up, given just how much gushing Kelly had engaged in. “You should totally date him.” She sipped her water. Given that opening, Kelly would probably talk for long enough that she could get her bearings again. Why was she so off her game this morning?
“PAaaAM.” Kelly shook her head, a grin on her face. “I’m not going to date him.” She glanced over her shoulder and Pam’s eyes followed her to Jim, visible through the blinds to the break room, walking back from the annex. “He’s way too tall. My guys have to be at most five-eleven or I have to spend all day in 6 inch heels.” Pam refrained from commenting that Kelly was, at the moment, wearing said 6 inch heels and, feeling virtuous, took another sip. “You should date him.”
It was a miracle Pam didn’t spit in her face. As it was, she spat past her face and then choked on the water still going down and started coughing loudly. She had just enough time to hear Kelly whisper “I’m telling you” before a hand started rubbing her back and a soft voice murmured “you OK?” She whipped around and there he was, Jim Halpert, large as life and twice as sexy (and where did that come from, she asked her subconscious) reaching his other hand (God they were large) out to take her mug from her and set it on the counter. “You OK?” he repeated, staring straight into her eyes and he crouched by her.
The first thing she thought as their eyes met was “God, he’s tall.” He was crouching and he was just barely shorter than her—OK, fair, she was bent half-over from the coughing, but still—and it was impossible not to have a shock of awareness tingle its way down her spine as she thought about how easy it would be for him to push up, just a little, just into the tiniest bit less of a crouch, and kiss her. Not that she would ever bend down any further and give him that kiss herself—except that she felt her traitorous back start to move and had to jerk herself to a stop. What was coming over her? Why was she still gazing deep into his eyes? What had he asked her? Oh right.
“Uh…yeah, sorry, just…” she gestured at the mug on the counter. “Don’t try to breathe and drink at the same time.”
His eyes squinted slightly at the edges, as if he were suppressing a laugh. “Wait. Are you telling me you’re not a fish?”
“Not especially.” She smiled slightly. He was just so easy to talk to. Even in this ridiculous position, even when she was feeling this absurd urge to just bend that little bit extra over and kiss him…she coughed once more and straightened up. “Not last time I checked, anyway.”
He brushed a finger into her hair, sweeping it up behind her ear. “You’re right, no gills.” How was it possible that she could still feel the trail where his finger had been, from her neck up to her ear? It felt hot, and then her whole face felt hot, and she turned away from him to seek equilibrium, only to catch sight of her own reflection in the metal of the sink: she was beet red. Great. What a way to make an impression. He must think she was crazy.
“Yeah, no gills.” She tried to laugh and it didn’t come quite out right, but fortunately Kelly came to her rescue in her own inimitable way.
“You guys are weird.” She winked at Pam—what was that for?—and sauntered out of the room.
Leaving Pam alone with the new guy and her own rising sense of embarrassment.
