Dwight was a man on the edge.
He knew Jim was up to something - he always was. Lately, the pranks Jim pulled were minor, such as gluing the wheels of his swivel chair to the floor or the subscription to Cosmo Girl magazine. By diagramming the misbehavior of his colleague, Dwight discerned that Jim was a creature of habit. He developed a chart, showing the ebbs and flows of Jim’s antics. According to the chart, every nine days, plus or minus a day, Jim pulled a major prank.
Today was the twenty-fifth day since a major prank had occurred.
Dwight couldn’t concentrate on his sales calls. His nerves were frayed in anticipation. Wait a minute, maybe this was the latest prank? To drive him crazy waiting for something to happen. No, Jim wasn’t clever enough for that.
He glanced up at the reception desk. Pam looked intensely at her computer screen. His nervous eyes fell on Jim, who was on the phone with a client while tapping his pencil rhythmically on the desk. They were up to something, he just knew it. Dwight K. Schrute was no fool!
He let out a deep breath. According to his observations, Jim and Pam didn’t appear to be friendly anymore. Pam’s engagement with Roy had ended badly months ago. Since then, and for reasons he couldn’t answer, Jim stopped flirting and hanging around her all the time. His productivity had skyrocketed. Pam, as well, seemed to take her job as receptionist seriously. Still, Dwight had his doubts that they had completely ended their friendship. Maybe this ruse was their big prank? No. They had something else up their sleeves.
Last night, he had shared his concerns with Angela. She only replied, “I’m glad they are finally acting in a professional manner.” Then she turned off the lamp that sat next to his bed. Her snores filled the bedroom while he laid awake in the wee hours. When he finally fell asleep, he dreamt of staplers and jello molds.
Jim hung up the phone as he filled out a sales form on his desk. Dwight cleared his throat. “Question: Are you still friends with Pam?”
Jim threw a look to the camera before turning back to Dwight with a blank face. “Dwight, I’m really busy right now. Besides, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not?” Dwight rolled his chair over to Jim’s desk. The wheels snagged the carpet slightly, a remnant of past prank glories.
Jim leaned in closer and spoke in a low voice. “Because…” Jim paused to hold a hand up, his voice wavering as his bottom lip quivered, “it hurts too much…to talk…about.”
Dwight nodded silently and rolled back to his computer. Jim smirked at the camera.
At lunch, Michael threw a party for National Sandwich Day. He didn’t even know about National Sandwich Day until he saw it that morning on his holiday-a-day calendar. It had been a Christmas present from Dwight. Of course, he ordered a bologna and ketchup sub for everyone.
The party was underway when Michael walked up to Pam, who was chatting with Ryan in the break room. “Pam and Cheese.”
Pam glared, “Yes, Michael?”
“On whole wheat.” Glare. “With mustard and mayo.” Glare. "Lettuce and tomato." Glare. “OK, tough crowd. We’re out of ice. Will you run to the convenience store and get some?”
“Um, sure.”
Michael enthusiastically punched a fist in the air. His National Sandwich Day party was a huge success. He threw his keys at Pam, nearly hitting her on the cheek. “Take my car. Jim, go with Pam. Oh, and get a BIG bag of ice.”
“Sure, whatever.”
Dwight raised his eyebrows as Jim and Pam walked out of the office. He was absolutely certain he knew what their topic of conversation would be. He wished he could follow them, but his absence would been noticed.
He waited a few minutes before purposefully stepping into the hallway. He crouched down behind the huge potted plant and waited for Jim and Pam to come back. He wished he had surveillance equipment. Maybe the documentary crew would let him borrow their sound gear? Dwight grimaced, remembering the time he had asked permission to watch their videos to discover any illicit activity that might be happening. He wrote “search internet for stakeout tools” on the notepad that he always kept in his shirt pocket.
From the office, he could hear an Aerosmith song playing from Kevin’s stereo. Oh, man, he loved Aerosmith! Three summers ago, he and his laser tag team had gone to see the band play at the outdoor pavilion. Some college punk tried to pass a joint. Dwight pulled him aside and spent the next twenty minutes lecturing the kid on a little program called D.A.R.E. Because of that kid, he missed “Walk This Way.”
Camouflaged by the potted plant, Dwight thrashed his air-guitar, pretending he was Joe Perry. He almost missed Jim and Pam walking out of the elevator. Jim carried a large bag of ice, while Pam’s arm was hooked through his. Dwight dropped his imaginary instrument and laid low to the ground.
“What would you like for dinner?” Jim asked.
“Well, since you’re cooking, I guess we’re having grilled cheese or Ramon noodles.” Jim scoffed, as he placed the bag of ice down and tickled her stomach. “Stop, stop! Your hands are freezing!” Giggling, Pam freed herself from Jim’s grasp.
Dwight leaned further into the plant. Hmm, interesting. They were having dinner together. Undoubtedly, to plot a prank. Frantically, he wrote the details on his notepad. He was so busy writing, he didn’t notice Jim kiss Pam softly before they walked into the office. Separately.
The rest of the afternoon was ruined for Dwight as he worried about what Jim and Pam might have planned. He would definitely have to do surveillance work tonight in front of Jim’s house.
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A/N: I didn't make up National Sandwich Day. Its on November 3rd. :)
Author's Chapter Notes:
OK, I had no intention of making this longer, but an idea got stuck in my head. And you know how that goes... Anyway, I only plan on adding a couple more chapters - just little vignettes of various people observing Jam's budding but hidden romance.
