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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.
Author's Chapter Notes:

 

 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. 

Much love to fireworkfiasco for her excellent beta on this!

 

Sometimes Jim hears about how people do crazy things when they've got nothing left to lose, but he's never been that kind of person. Still, he thinks about it a lot. He stays up late on his laptop some nights, sprawled out on the living room couch in his boxers, almost buying concert tickets but when he gets to the screen that tells you that you only have two minutes to make your purchase, it freaks him out, so he decides that Philadelphia is a pain-in-the-ass drive and he doesn't like the band that much.

He spends too much time online, looking at cars he could never afford and houses he'll never own and jobs he'll never take. He makes the same declaration every night before going to bed, that tomorrow, he's really going to do something to define himself. By the time he wakes up, takes a shower, and gets dressed, he only settles on maybe buying a new pair of shoes after work. Or maybe rearranging his desk.

He has to keep reminding himself that he's going to Australia in a month. A month away, and he still doesn't know where he's staying.

* * * *

He gets out of his car at work on Wednesday morning and he only remembers that it's Wednesday because he sees Pam walking across the parking lot alone. She always drives to work by herself on Wednesdays (he knows that Roy stays out late on Tuesday nights at Poor Richard's and crashes at Darryl's house afterwards). She has on her pink spring jacket and it's warm enough that she's not wearing pantyhose and he wants to think it's sad that he takes note of these types of little things.

She catches up with him, taking two steps for every one of his, and bumps his arm with her shoulder. "Hey," she says, looking up at him, holding her bag in front of her with both hands, her wrists lightly bouncing against the tops of her thighs as she walks.

"Oh, hey," he grins, shoving his hands into his pockets. He tries not to breathe in too deeply because she always smells so good first thing in the morning, especially during springtime.

"So, I feel like we're in elementary school again, and it's picture day, except instead of getting to remember fifth grade for the rest of our lives, we get to remember working at Dunder-Mifflin," she jokes.

"Nice one," he says approvingly. "You should remember that for later and say it in front of the cameras."

She laughs, but it doesn't matter. She laughs at everything he says. It's nothing new. Sometimes he wants to beg her to just please take him seriously once in a while. Trying to be funny all of the time while holding everything else in is starting to make him feel like he has this dual personality and he's not even sure how to deal with it anymore.

So much for doing something to define himself. It's not even nine o'clock and already she has him defeated.

* * * *

He thinks that if he can at least make it until lunchtime without hearing any wedding talk, he might be okay. But Kevin's going on and on to Pam about his band, Phyllis is talking about save-the-dates, and all Pam does is complain to him about it. Pretty soon Oscar and Angela begin to argue and it's all he can do not to pack up his things and call it quits for good, because tension is just not his thing.

He looks over at Dwight, almost fascinated, watching him type diligently, wondering if Dwight holds things in too, or if he's really just as simple as he seems. Dwight is Dwight. He's different, but at least he doesn't try to hide it. He seems perfectly comfortable being who he is, and he's been a constant, sure thing in Jim's life for the past five years. Sort of like a weird family member that you spend your whole life being so creeped out about, but they always give you money on your birthday. That's Dwight, except for the money. Instead, he gives Jim an outlet for his boredom.

He wonders if Dwight will miss him when he goes to Australia.

* * * *

When Michael starts reading off the HR complaints, Jim immediately feels guilty when his own complaint against Pam really visibly hurts her, and makes her angrier than he's seen her in a long time. That had been something he'd never wanted for her to find out about, but there's still a chance that she might never know that it had been him. He doesn't want to hear any more complaints, and Michael's way out of line. So he goes with the first distraction he can think of.

"Dwight tried to kiss me," he says, "and I didn't tell anyone because I'm not really sure how I feel about it."

The joke doesn't go on nearly as long as he'd hoped it would.

* * * *

He follows Dwight into the break room when it's time for pictures to be taken for their ID badges and he's not really sure why, but on days like this he thrives on Dwight's reactions. Sometimes he envies Dwight's ability to react.

He sits at the badge-making computer and begins to type. Dwight. Fart. Schrute. Perfect. Security threat. Perfect.

"You know what, Dwight? Maybe we should get our photo ID taken together," he says, because he knows Dwight hates that sort of thing, knows it makes him uncomfortable.

"That doesn't make any sense," Dwight answers, putting down his comb.

"Well, it saves time, you know. 'Cause we could just meet in the parking lot every morning. Walk in together."

He takes the badge out of the laminating machine, "This came out really well." He snaps a clip onto it, and hands it to Dwight. "There you go."

Dwight's reaction, of course, is just what Jim wants, and he's satisfied for now.

* * * *

Jim doesn't expect things to go as far as they do, with Dwight throwing a fit and running to tell Toby, and then Michael. Still, he's not worried, because Dwight has freaked out before. And he tries to feign disinterest when Dwight tells him about the sales manager position in Stamford, but he stores it away in his mind with all of the other maybes and what ifs.

* * * *

Michael calls Jim and Dwight into the conference room and runs down a list of things that Jim's done to Dwight over the past few years. And Jim wants to laugh, because the things on that list are so old, and he'd pretty much forgotten he'd ever done any of them. They were all so funny at the time, and they'd all made Pam laugh until she cried, which had always made them worth doing, despite the fact that they'd caused him to get reported to Toby. They'd been harmless, the pranks, and they'd all been done out of boredom (well, maybe a few for revenge), but they just sound so lame now.

And it makes him think. He spends most of his time picking on a guy who can't even properly defend himself, all so that he can make his day go by faster and maybe try to get the attention of (and spend an extra few minutes close to) a girl he cares about more than anything, one who's getting married to another guy in a month.

He puts Stamford on the top of his maybe list. And he adds corporate to the contact list in his cell phone.

* * * *

"Maybe Stamford would be cool," Jim says, watching Dwight sit at the conference table, looking completely worn out and defeated. He wonders if he should apologize. He wants to apologize.

"It's a good market. Higher volume."

"Yeah." Jim laughs. "Maybe we should both go." He's not kidding, not really, because if he can't have Pam, he doesn't care about anyone else in this office enough to want to take with him, to be there with him. And as far away as he wants to be, he doesn't want to lose everything.

Still, Dwight's dead-set on Michael firing Jim. Jim wonders if sales manager means he'd get his own office.

When Michael gets everyone together for the group photo, Pam happens to stand right in front of Jim. Nearer to him than she's been in a long time. Still, he feels her slipping away, farther and farther, and when she blames Angela for reporting her to Toby, Jim doesn't think he even knows her anymore. Or if he ever did know her. He doesn't think he even knows himself now, because so much of what he likes about himself at all has everything to do with her. Brought out by him loving her.

He comes clean, telling her that he's the one who told Toby, making it seem like no big deal when the reality of it is that he's never been more ashamed in his whole life. Not just because Pam found out, but because of whatever it is that had made him do it in the first place.

She reacts to his explanation in a way that he could have only hoped she would. And somehow, he feels a million times worse.

* * * *

His decision is made as he walks out of the building by himself that evening. He's got absolutely nothing to lose by taking this transfer. He knows now that he'd lose more if he stays.

* * * *

Jim's car and Dwight's car are the only two left in the parking lot, and as Jim walks across, he sees Dwight digging his keys out of his pocket. He turns and marches towards Jim, glaring.

"You," Dwight growls, pointing. "Don't think that this is over. I swear to you, if Michael doesn't transfer you by the end of this week, I'm going straight to corporate myself and filing a formal complaint."

Jim looks at Dwight's angry face, his blue eyes dark with fury. It bothers him that he's forced Dwight to become so fired up. All the guy does is try to do his job, a job that he actually wants to have, one that he'd do anything for.

In a twisted way, it's only because of Dwight that the transfer seemed feasible, smart. A good idea. Maybe he even owes Dwight for actually allowing himself to make a conscious decision to do something, anything besides sit and watch and wait. Weird as it is, he feels close to Dwight. He feels really close, really grateful and really, really sick.

Before he knows what he's doing, he has his hands on Dwight's shoulders, and then his arms around his neck. He holds them there for a few seconds before bringing his mouth against Dwight's face, pressing it into his cheek. It's rough against his lips, not at all what he's used to or even what he likes, but maybe it's not that kind of kiss. Dwight doesn't move right away. He's completely still, frozen in Jim's arms.

After what feels like forever, Jim slowly removes his lips from Dwight's cheek, releasing him from his grip. He doesn't look back as he walks towards his car, because Dwight's stunned expression is the last thing that he wants to see or think about before he goes home.

* * * *

When he pulls out of the parking lot, he finds the number to corporate in his cell phone.

"Yes, um, Jan Levinson, please."

He decides when the receptionist puts him on hold that there's still only one thing that might make him stay.



69 cups of noodles is the author of 31 other stories.
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