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Story Notes:

Thanks to HalloweenJack138 for the macguffin. Just the little push I needed to get this one over the top. And thanks to blogger Ed Brayton for the many entertaining posts on far-right homophobia on which I base Angela's opinion on the subject. Also, you would think that a gay fic like this by me would include KaPAM! but it does not. I'm shocked too.

The action is centered loosely around "The Return".

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.

Oscar had made his sacriligious homecoming earlier today, and to this Angela's feelings were mixed. On the one hand, he was far more competent than Kevin and moderately amicable, but on the other hand multiple teachings in the Bible show that, in the eyes of God, homosexuality is a mortal sin. She was worried that Oscar's presence in the office might tempt her coworkers to become homosexual.

Now that the company has tacitly approved of Oscar's sinful lifestyle choice, could he be encouraged upon his return to use his gay skills to whip up some delicious salmon mousse with which to tempt unsuspecting, nubile young men into being gay? (Angela really does trust Oscar. His deviant lifestyle is his only vice, unlike many of her coworkers who have many.) But even if he does not mean to, his way of life is against Christian princples, thereby contributing to the recruitment of vulnerable people into homosexuality. It could happen, then what would she do? It wasn't much of a stretch. Pam was enough of a hussy as it was, and the less that was said about Meredith, the better. And Michael's man-boy crush on Ryan was already disgusting.

At least she was confident that her D. could never be corrupted by the Gay Agenda.

1. Stolen Shamelessly from Red Dwarf

Jim was out getting something from his car when the Trans Am rumbled noisily into the parking lot. He was literally stunned as Dwight stepped out of the vehicle - (Trans Ams are sooo cool - if this was 1988). He perched on the hood of his new Saab as his former desk-mate approached.

"Dwight?"

"Jim."

Jim swallowed the lump in his throat. "It's good to see you." He reached out to touch Dwight, noticing his Battlestar Galactica t-shirt underneath his jacket. "Are you real?"

Dwight furrowed his brow underneath his glasses. "What?"

"Sorry, Creed had me confused about some stuff earlier. So... where've you been?"

"Staples," Dwight shuddered. "But I'm back now. Michael convinced me to return."

"You're kidding."

"Jim, since when did I ever kid?" Dwight was unexpectedly grinning, at least he was for a brief second before his sobriety returned. "So, er, how about you? How's it going?"

Jim shrugged. "Ahh, y'know. Same old office. Same old selling paper."

Dwight poked the ground with his feet. "I, erm, I hear you've got a new number three?

"Yeah. Andy," Jim replied softly, knowing that for Dwight this would be a painful subject. Hell, to all of them it was a painful subject.

"What's he like?"

"He's okay, y'know?"

"Is he... as good as me?" Dwight asked nervously, fearing the answer.

"Well, he's only been the number three for one week and Michael is already getting sick of him..." They shared a laugh.

"But what about you? What do you think about him? He is pretty intense."

"Is he? I hadn't really noticed. But this morning Pam and I hid his phone in the ceiling, and he punched a hole in the wall."

"So he's not as fun as me?"

"Don't be crazy... he couldn't hold a candle to you, man."

"Nah, you're just saying that," whispered Dwight, with tears in his eyes.

"I'm not. I missed you, man."

"And I've missed you too, Jim!"

"Ohh, Dwight..."

"Jim..."

He rushed from his perch on the hood of his car, and embraced Dwight roughly. "Don't ever leave us again!"

"I won't!"

"You promise?"

"Ohh, Jim..."

"Ohh, Dwight..."

Their faces inches apart, Dwight and Jim succumbed to feelings beyond either of their control - slowly, but surely, their lips joined in a kiss. Then, simulaneously, their eyes flew wide open and they recoiled in shock, screaming and scratching at their tongues.

Sputtering and coughing, Jim said, "We never speak of this again," to which Dwight hastily agreed.

2. Is There a Ms. Pac-Man?

Packer roughly manhandled Meredith into his bedroom. Sure, he thought the redhead was filthy and well past her best before date, but she was a willing, warm body and not in too bad of shape, if you know what I mean, so he thought 'what the hell?' He knew from reputation that the redhead would put out. Plus she has no uterus, so no risk of depositing one in the oven.

They were both slightly drunk after whatever the hell party they were at and, despite his frequent put downs in the past, she was looking pretty darned fuckable tonight. (What the hell party was that, anyway? She'd dragged him to a couple of places on their way back here that were filled with some weird people, but he hadn't been paying attention - he was too busy groping her.)

Meredith smiled at him as he crawled over her, pawing at her body with his big (clumsy) hands. She slyly produced a set of handcuffs and winked at him. Oh, so the little minx likes it kinky. Well, no one ever said that Todd Packer was afraid of a little BDSM.

Once she had him good and restrained she whispered seductively in his ear. "Todd, hun, I have a little surprise for you..."

"What is it babe?"

"Well, sugar, I know every man's fantasy is to have a threesome, so I arranged a little something something..."

Packer couldn't help but grin like an idiot. Yeah, he'd had threesomes before, but none recently, and usually both quite nasty. Let the threesome commence!

Meredith hopped up with surprising agility and opened the door. "Time to come in, Dale!"

And suddenly a large, well muscled, tanned and oiled, large man in leather underpants with a big mustache and a whip pranced into the room. Packer's horrified scream was cut off by the ball-gag inserted into his mouth. As fantastic abs and bulging pectorals decended toward him, he realized he would never be more afraid in his life.

This was going to be unpleasant.

Every man's fantasy is a threesome, but you've got to remember certain caveats.

3. The Other, Other, Other Girl

Jim was chattering away aimlessly with Karen, enjoying their light banter (never too relationship oriented in the office) and throwing paper airplanes at Dwight's bobblehead. He looked around when he heard the door open and someone walked past reception. Well, this could get awkward, he thought as he recognized Brenda from Corporate Training enter the room.

Would she want to talk to him? Should he say something. After all, a couple of horribly bland dates almost a year ago didn't mean they were obligated to greet each other during a business call, did it?

Thankfully, Brenda made the choice for him. Less fortunately, the choice was apparently 'yes' and Brenda approached. He knew from experience that Karen didn't take knowledge of past girlfriends well, so this meeting with his current girlfriend sitting right next to him would very well go badly.

"Hi Jim," Brenda said, tentatively.

"Hi Brenda. How are you?"

"Good." He noticed Brenda's eyes dart over his head.

"Oh, where are my manners," he said. "Brenda, this is Karen. Karen?" She was no longer beside him. "Where'd you go," he muttered, before finding her scooted away behind him.

***

It was nice to be able to just joke and laugh with Jim. That last paper airplane had just missed Little Dwight. She was determined to knock the little bastard's head off with her next shot. She folded her paper (she had no idea what the product number was - who did she look like? Dwight?) carefully, but stopped when she noticed Jim's head swing around to the door, becoming rigid upon seeing the interloper.

Karen peeked at the new woman and her heart stopped. Oh shit!

Thinking quickly, she hid behind Jim's much larger frame and prayed to God that Brenda wouldn't see her. If she just walked on past them to whoever she was here to meet with, then things would be okay.

Crap.

"Hi Jim," she said. Any chance of escape through hiding and/or running away was looking slim at this point. Still... hearing that voice again and knowing the words she was capable of saying with said voice...

"Hi Brenda. How are you?" Please don't let them have a conversation, she thought. Quick. Finish this, Jim, before she notices me. Damn, why doesn't telepathy work?

"Good," said Brenda.

"Oh, where are my manners." Double crap. "Brenda, this is Karen. Karen? Where'd you go?" This was going to be embarrassing, hiding as she was.

"Um... Hi Brenda," she said, pretending to have dropped her sheet of paper behind Jim's chair. Please let this be quick and painless.

"Hello Karen," the blonde woman smiled. "It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you, too."

Jim looked perplexed. "Wait. You two know each other?" he asked. Oh, you're asking for a beating, Halpert.

"Oh, yeah," Brenda exclaimed, a bit too enthusiastically. "We got to know each other very well last May," she stated, looking at Jim pointedly and with a strange emphasis on the month. What was up with that? "Good times, right Karen?"

"Yeah, they were," Karen replied, carefully.

"Well, I'd better get to my meeting with Michael. Karen, if you want to get together later, call me." With that, Brenda walked away and Jim turned back to face Karen.

"So, how do you know Brenda?" he asked.

She really didn't know what to say. "It's complicated," she answered.

How was she supposed to explain about the sweet young woman who had joined her at the bar after a Stamford training session and lamented sadly over too much alcohol about being tired of being jerked around by supposedly 'nice' guys who always turn out to be bastards? How was she supposed to explain about how Brenda had opened her heart to Karen and stated that she'd just needed to work some things out, and that she'd genuinely felt for this broken hearted and confused girl she'd just met. How was she supposed to explain that she'd been feeling the same thing and swept her into her arms and into her bed that night, the beginning of two weeks of forbidden passion?

She couldn't. It was a chapter from the dark times before she had met Jim. It wasn't something she wanted to relive.

Still... it was the best sex she'd ever had...

4. There was really no way of knowing. Not that it would have stopped him.

Creed was feeling nicely buzzed as he made his way through the bar. Mary-beth had said something about having such a great time at this place the previous night (at least, he thinks it's this place - he may have gotten lost, but a bar was a bar).

Sure enough, there was some free lovin' going on. Reminded him of the '60s. Or was it the '80s? The 6 and the 8 looked so similar. Or maybe it was the '90s with the six upside down. But probably not the '90s because his calendar said that they weren't too long ago, and he didn't remember any free lovin' any time recently. Not that that meant too much...

He soon found a nice looking woman (a little older and rough around the edges, but at his age, he couldn't complain) who seemed to be interested in a little nudge nudge, say no more, so he took her to the back of the place and started making out with her.

He sucked her earlobe, then kissed along her jaw line... her neck... her adam's apple.

Hey, that's not right.

"Wait a minute. You're a man!"

The (not) woman rolled her eyes at him. "Duh! This is a transexual club. It said so on the big neon sign out front."

"So you're just a female impersonator then?"

"Yes."

Creed shrugged his shoulders. "Close enough."

5. The Gay Epidemic

The girls of the office (Angela, Meredith, Pam, and Phyllis - Kelly was off tormenting Ryan), gathered around the breakroom for lunch. Meredith hunkered down conspiratorially and, in a hushed squeal, dropped a bombshell on them. "Oh my God! Have you heard the news? Karen's bi!"

An awed hush fell across the room. It took about three to four seconds for the gasps of "No way!" and "Seriously?" and "I knew it!" to start to fall from the other women's lips.

Meredith nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, really. She totally nailed that Brenda chick from Corporate last year."

Angela assumed her standard 'scolding Meredith' pose. "Really, this is inappropriate conversation for the workplace. Gossipping about coworkers' sinful and unnatural transgressions is wrong. Almost as wrong as their corrupt and immoral deeds themselves."

Meredith, of course, ignored her completely. "Pam, this could be your chance with Jim. You should totally hit that threesome."

"Meredith!" Phyllis shrieked.

"Ewww!"cringed Pam. So what if Pam's immediate reaction upon hearing the news had been to think of exactly that?

Angela stared her down. "Do not listen to her, Pam. Acts of homosexuality are sinful and wrong. You are probably going to Hell anyway, but do not further condemn yourself by further associating yourself with that whore and her corrupt lesbianism."

Meredith snickered. "Methinks Angela doth protest too much."

"What?!" Shouted Angela, eyes wide in rage. "I don't have to take that from you, you lush."

Phyllis timidtly added her two cents to the 'discussion'. "Perhaps it's a good time to bring up Mark Foley and Ted Haggert as examples that rabidly vocal anti-gayness is a good indication of repressed gayness?" That earned her shocked stares from both Angela and Pam, and a look of smug gratification from Meredith.

"I am not!" Angela yelled. How dare they insinuate that she was holding in some secret lesbian side, and that her well founded homophobia was merely self-loathing?

"Angela and Karen, sitting in a tree..." singsonged Meredith. Phyllis giggled.

"You are all evil, wicked people." She stormed off to the bathroom. Pam followed her shortly thereafter.

"Hey, Angela," she said, not sure whether holding her while comforting her would be a good idea right now, or if Angela would interpret that as some evil-gay thing. "I'm sorry we got a little carried away back there. That was just mean. I can't apologize for Meredith every time she does something offensive, but I'm shocked that Phyllis would say that to you. I'm sorry."

Angela sniffed. "It's okay, Pam."

"We stepped over the line. I mean, we know that you're not that way. It would be ludicrous to even suggest such a thing about you. I don't think I've ever met so proper a Christian in my entire life. You're so straight laced, and you have Dwi - your boyfriend, and there's no way that you would ever even consider having sex with another woman. We were just pulling your chain. We all know that you could never ever do such a thing. It's preposterous. It's worse than preposterous. It's impossible. It's - "

Angela silenced Pam's babbling with a frenzied kiss. Who was she to tell Angela Martin what she was or wasn't capable of? Hussy.

Her hands fondled their way down Pam's back toward the hem of her conservative skirt. Angela felt Pam's hands reciprocating as she too lost herself in the kissing. Pam's skin felt very nice, soft and smooth under her touch and without the stubble on her face as she plunged her tongue deeper into her mouth. She could almost feel Pam's aching desire transferred through their interlocked lips. When they were finished, they leaned on each other for support, out of breath and sated, flushed from the exertion.

Pam smirked. "Who were you calling 'hussy?'"

***

She straightened her hair and returned to her desk. Obviously, The Gay was rubbing off on her. She would request a new partition for her desk tomorrow.



Alex Wert is the author of 15 other stories.



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