The Target

"What is going on?"  Karen leaned up against his desk, just as Jim had finished telling Andy to sing to Pam in a "sexy falsetto voice."  Karen smiled at him, mischievous.

"I'm messing with Andy," he said, his voice low.  "I'm sending him to all the women in the office with just ... terrible information on how to get them to go out with him."

"I love it.  I want in.  Who's the target?

Jim made a face, turning away from her.  "Oh, you know what?  It was going to be Pam, but.."

Karen interrupted him.  "Perfect.  What do I do?  Just ... but ... give me an assignment." 

He hadn't planned on letting Karen in on the joke.  There was something about the way that she said it:  target, and assignment, that made it seem less like a friendly prank and more like a mean joke. 

"Oh... you know what, though?"  Jim felt like his chest was about to break in two.  He hated lying to Karen.  Time for recovery.  He made a face, like he was thinking about it.  "I feel like I already sicced him on Pam; we'll give her a break."  Jim looked around the room, surveying the safest option.  "Let's think of someone else." 

"Who?" Karen asked, leaning forward. 

Unconsciously, he leaned back against his chair.  Something about her being that close to him at work made him uncomfortable.  Pam wasn't at her desk, but Jim also didn't want her coming into the room and seeing them together.  He touched her arm.  "Come out into the hallway.  We'll discuss the game plan."

Her face opened up into a huge grin as she stood up.  She turned to look at him, her nose scrunched up.  It made him smile as he followed her out into the front hallway.

"What's the game plan?" she asked as they went through the front doors, standing outside the Vance Refrigeration suite. 

"Okay, so, since I figure he'll be all dejected when his efforts with Pam fail horribly, which they will--" Jim grinned, despite himself.  "--then, we'll start offering him other suggestions.  I thought we could hit Angela next."

"The blonde one?  In accounting?"

"Oh, yeah.  She's very uptight, and quite religious.  I know for a fact that she has very strict music tastes, which, I believe, are limited to some Christian music and a few country singers.  She hates most modern music, specifically rock music, metal, etcetera."

"Okay," Karen said. 

"So ... Lieutenant Fillipelli, it will be your mission to corner Andy in the break room and convince him that despite Angela's ‘strict' exterior, that she has a secret passion for rock and-or punk music, particularly of an anti-authoritarian nature, i.e., the Sex Pistols, Black Sabbath, Ministry, Rage Against the Machine..."

"Isn't Ministry more industrial music, as opposed to rock music?"

"You're splitting hairs here, Fillipelli."  Jim smiled at her.  "Look, this won't be an easy sell, but I'm counting on you to make it work.  Do you think you can handle it?"

"Of course," she said, squeezing his hand.  He felt blood starting to rush up his neck.

The elevator door opened, causing both of them to step apart.  Andy stopped when he saw the two of them.  "What you guys up to?  Is there something I should know about?"

"Uh, no," Jim said, as Karen said,

"No, we were just ..."

Jim interrupted:  "Going to see if they had Mr. Goodbars in the machine..."

"Yes, in the vending machine, next door," Karen picked up.

"Mr. Goodbars?"  Andy asked.  "You guys are so weird.  Everyone knows that Snickers bars are better." 

Jim watched as Andy slung his banjo case over his shoulder and headed back into the office.  "We're weird?" he asked, looking at Karen.