- Text Size +
Story 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.

This story was originally posted on my LJ, so if you read that, no, you are not seeing double.  I'm just lazy about cross-posting, that's all.

HUGE thanks to my betas, Paper Jam, sharky, and angryhaiku, who all offered unique and helpful advice. I couldn't have done it without you guys!

Author's Chapter Notes:
"I've got three cases of imported beer. Karaoke machine. And I didn't invite Michael. So, three ingredients for a great party."

=== 

Jim was glad Michael wasn't coming to the party. But more than that, Jim was glad Roy wasn't, either. He knew it was selfish of him to be glad that his friend's fiancé wasn't coming, but if he wanted to really be honest with himself, he'd admit that he wished Pam didn't even have a fiancé, because maybe then, he'd finally have her for himself.

He was pacing around the house, trying to make sure everything was in order for that night.

All the dishes were put away? Check.

Beer was stocked in the cooler? Check.

No reason to be nervous, Halpert. It's just a party.

With alcohol. And no Roy.

That doesn't mean anything's actually going to happen.

Even if the last time you hung out with her alone, you had a great time. And you called it a date.

Idiot.


He wasn't going to make that mistake today. He would just ... host his party, and have fun, and ... see what happened. And, if something happened... well...

Nothing was going to happen. It didn't work that way. She was engaged.

Still, you never knew... remember what happened at the Dundies?

No, he thought to himself. She was just excited about the award, and was caught up in the moment. It didn't mean anything. But still... it had been their first kiss, and who knew? Maybe something would happen...

Jim shook his head to clear his mind. He had to get ready for the party. People would be getting there any minute.

===

To Jim's surprise, Oscar was the first to arrive at the party, five minutes early. He thought for sure that Angela would be there first. She actually arrived precisely at seven o'clock on the dot, which made complete sense, in retrospect. Pretty much everyone else started to filter in slowly over the next half-hour or so, including Kevin and his fiancée, Phyllis, Ryan, Kelly, Meredith, Stanley, his wife Terri -- even the corporate IT guy, Sadiq.

Jim had thought for sure that Dwight would be one of the early arrivals as well. Dwight finally arrived around 7:40, explaining that he was late because he had to help Mose "gather up the livestock," whatever that meant. (In Dwight's case, it could be literal or figurative. You never knew.) After he introduced Dwight to Mark, he realized that Pam was still missing.

Had she decided not to show up? Maybe Roy asked her to do whatever it was he was doing and she went there instead? He didn't want to think about that. Part of the reason (if he was being completely honest, the reason) he was having the party was so he could have Pam over at his house. She'd never seen where he lived. And if she didn't show up...

Well, he couldn't worry about that. He headed over to the small group of office people gathered around his couch.

He motioned to his co-workers. "I just wanted to let you guys know that we will be taking the tour like I promised --"

"Hey," a voice said next to him.

Jim turned to see Pam standing before him, clad in a brown coat, a scarf, and jeans ... Oh, my God, this girl was adorable.

"Hey!" he said, grinning at her. "Just in time. Do you want to go on a group tour? We were about to leave."

"Definitely," she said, smiling at him.

Jim had to stop himself from grinning like an idiot. He couldn't believe she'd finally made it. He couldn't wait for her to see his house. There was something exhilarating about it. He had to force himself to concentrate on the guests in front of him. Pam is not the only person in the room. Even if you'd like her to be.

"Well, the group tour is now leaving, then," Jim announced, leading his co-workers down the hall and into his house. He continued to make snappy comments as they headed towards the stairs. Jim felt his stomach starting to tighten as he thought about Pam actually seeing his bedroom, when Ryan interrupted his thoughts.

"Hey, is Katy coming?"

Katy? What? "Um, actually, I haven't talked to her in a while," Jim said as quietly as he could. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin this night with talk about another girl he'd been half-heartedly seeing on-and-off. He really didn't want Pam to hear him talking about Katy at all.

"Huh. Oh. Is it cool if I call her?" Ryan asked.

Jim tried to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "We'll talk about that later," Jim said as they rounded the stairs. He cleared his throat in an effort to clear his head as well.

"Okay, folks," he said as they got to the top of the stairs, "you'll notice on your right the second of the two bathrooms in the house." He opened up the door and flicked on the light. "You may also notice this is the more spacious of the two, for when you need a little more breathing room."

Everyone turned to look at Kevin.

"Heeyyy..." Kevin said.

Jim smiled. "Extra paper is under the sink, in case you need it," Jim said with a smirk. He led the group out into the hallway and opened the door to his bedroom.

"On your left, you'll see the bedroom owned by yours truly. It's a state-of-the-art bachelor pad, complete with bookshelves and an underused acoustic guitar. And no, before you ask, I don't know how to play 'Stairway to Heaven.'"

"How about 'Smoke on the Water'?" Kevin asked.

"'Master of Puppets'?" Ryan asked.

Jim gave Ryan an odd look. "Um," he said. "Moving along."

He led everyone out of his bedroom and down the hall towards Mark's.

"This is my roommate Mark's bedroom. Please refrain from utilizing this bedroom for any type of sexual activity. In fact, please refrain from using any of the rooms for inappropriate activities; that's what your own house is for."

"Too bad Meredith isn't here to hear that," Ryan said under his breath.

"Ryan!" Phyllis said, as Kevin snickered.

Ryan shrugged.

Jim ignored him, gesturing towards the stairwell. "I think that about concludes the tour; please be sure to check your seats for purses and hats as you leave, and enjoy the rest of your stay at Casa de Halpert!"

"I have my hat," Kevin said as they headed back downstairs.

"I noticed," Jim said.

It wasn't until they got back downstairs that Jim noticed that Pam wasn't with the group. He headed back upstairs to see where she had gone.

He was half-surprised to catch her in his room, and tried to conceal his disappointment when he noticed one of the cameramen and a sound guy hiding out in the corner of his bedroom. Of course, he thought.

Jim and Pam made some small talk about his room and where everything was, but he could tell she was a little put-off by the crew being there, too. After a minute, he was torn between wanting to suggest that they go back to the party and wanting to have her (mostly) to himself for as long as possible. That was when she started poking around his bookshelf and found his yearbook.

"All right, yes -- that's not going to be awkward at all," he said, trying to suppress a smile. While on one hand, he really didn't want her seeing what he looked like back in high school, on the other hand, he wanted to share everything with her.

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed when she got to the page with his picture.

"Oh, yeah," he said. He hated that year's picture. His mom had made him wear a dark V-neck sweater with an especially wide opening and a white a t-shirt underneath. It had the effect of making him look like he was wearing a sailor suit. His friends had called him "Popeye" for the next couple months after that.

"You were so dorky!" she squealed, poring over the book.

Jim continued to watch her, loving the way that her finger traced across the page. He tried to imagine what she was thinking at that moment. Was she wondering what would have happened if she'd met Jim in high school instead of Roy? Would they have dated if they'd known each other? (Jim thought they probably would have.) Would they still be together if they'd dated in high school? He was considering these thoughts when he realized that the camera crew was watching him, and his head snapped up, turning to look around the room.

Way to look casual there, Halpert, he thought.

"Do you have any other pictures in this yearbook?" Pam asked, grinning at him. Obviously, she was very amused by the prospect of a high-school Jim. Something about that made his stomach do a little flip.

"Um, well, I really only have one other one --" Jim said, coming over to sit next to her so he could turn to the right page. He noticed the cameraman sidling around to get a better angle of them, when a shout came from downstairs.

"Oh my God, Meredith's actually going to do it!"

A series of chants started as everyone called her name in succession, "Mere-dith, Mere-dith, Mere-dith!"

Jack, the cameraman, and Dan, the sound guy looked at each other, quickly assessing the situation. They both looked at Jim and Pam, who were glancing out the door. A decision was made in that moment that Jim was forever grateful for, as little as it was worth.

Jack shifted the camera off his shoulder and started towards the door. Almost as a secondary thought, he turned and said, "You two behave, okay?" and jogged out of Jim's bedroom and downstairs. Jim watched Dan follow him, almost knocking the boom mike into the doorway as he did so.

"What do you think he meant by that?" Pam asked with a funny look on her face.

"I don't know," Jim said, immediately wanting to change the subject. He almost wanted to ask her what Meredith might possibly be doing, but if he did that, she'd want to leave the room, and then they wouldn't be alone anymore. Instead, he went back to concentrating on the yearbook. "My other picture's in here somewhere," he said, licking his lips in concentration as he flipped through the pages.

"Ha!" Pam said; her attention diverted again.

"Here we go," Jim said, pointing to the page. "That ... is me."

It was a picture of Jim playing basketball. He was performing a lay-up, and his tongue was sticking out slightly, ála Michael Jordan. Pam immediately started giggling.

"That -- is awesome! Look at you, all basketball star-ish."

Jim looked away, suddenly embarrassed, but unable to keep the smile off his face.

"Wait. That's why you were so good when we played that company basketball game. You played in high school. You never told me that!" Pam said, smacking him lightly on the arm.

He looked up at the same time she did, and suddenly realized how close they were actually sitting, his knee resting against hers, their faces inches apart. They both stopped for a moment, as if neither knew what to say.

It was one of those moments where, in the movies, the guy who had feelings for the girl would slowly start to lean in, and they would kiss. His eyes searched Pam's. Her lips parted slightly, and he wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was...

He knew he wouldn't do it. He couldn't do it then. There was too much ... too much at risk. He couldn't...

Jim sighed lightly, murmuring, "Yeah, I guess I didn't."

"Yeah," Pam said quietly. She looked down at the yearbook and then up at Jim. She forced a smile onto her face. "I could really use a beer," she said suddenly.

"Yeah, me, too," Jim said, standing up.

===

Ryan approached him about a half-hour later in the living room. "So, about Katy."

"Dude," Jim said. "Are you serious? You really want to know if I'll give you her number?"

Ryan shrugged. He seemed to do that a lot.

Jim rolled his eyes again. "Look," Jim said, eyeing the room to see where Pam was standing. She was talking to Phyllis, it looked like. He walked over to the kitchen counter where his phone was sitting. Ryan followed him. "If I give this to you, I don't want you telling her that I gave it to you."

"What do you want me to say, that I found her number just 'laying around,' or something?" Ryan asked sarcastically.

"I don't know. Say whatever. I just don't want her to think I think she's a revolving door, you know? She's just --"

"Hot? Sexy? She has a nice rack?"

Ryan had obviously had a few beers at that point. He was a little more loose-lipped than Jim was used to. "Um, not exactly," Jim said. "But, whatever."

He wrote down the number and handed it to Ryan. Maybe if Jim was lucky, Ryan and Katy would hit it off, and Katy would finally stop calling him. She was okay, really, but not exactly his type. He glanced over in Pam's direction again. She was pointing at Dwight -- so she's really trying to figure out if he's dating Angela,, Jim thought. He chuckled to himself.

"What's so funny?" Ryan asked, as he reached into the fridge to grab a beer. Ryan held one out for Jim, who took it.

"Ah -- nothing," Jim said. "I was just thinking about something."

Ryan gave him a weird look. "Is your Playstation hooked up?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah," Jim said. "I think some people were already playing it. Have at it."

===

Jim had to help set up the karaoke machine, and Phyllis agreed to be the first to sing. Kevin had apparently bet her twenty dollars that he would pick a song she wouldn't know. It turned out that Phyllis was familiar with "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake, much to everyone's surprise. She couldn't really get the intonation down (Phyllis wasn't the type to belt out anything), but she knew the tune.

Kevin slapped the twenty onto the coffee table halfway through the song and went to get another beer.

Jim had just grabbed a hot dog and sat down next to Pam. "Oh, hey," he said. "How's your little side project going?"

"Well, apparently," Pam said, leaning in conspiratorially, "Phyllis thinks I might be onto something, too."

"Really?" Jim asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah," she whispered. "At first, she didn't really know what I was talking about, but when I pointed to Dwight and I told her about the candy bar, she totally agreed with me!"

Jim made a face. "'The candy bar'--? What?"

"Didn't I tell you? I caught Angela buying two candy bars this afternoon, and Jeff pointed out that Dwight was eating one of them!"

"Jeff the camera guy?" Jim asked, confused.

"Yeah!" Pam said. She smiled again, reveling in the fun of their mission. "I told him to tell me if he saw anything, and they did! It's so awesome, Jim. Do you realize what this means?"

"That the two people I would have imagined least-likely to find dates have found each other?" Jim asked, amused.

"Well, yes, but also -- okay," she said, leaning in again. He could feel her breath on his cheek. "They obviously think no one else knows, so we have to work that to our advantage. Think of the possibilities!" she said, leaning back to grin at him.

He grinned back at her. He loved when she got into this mode. It was his favorite side of Pam.

She stood up suddenly. "Hey, I'm going to grab another beer -- you want one?"

"Just got one," Jim said, holding his up. "You gettin' drunk there, Beesly?"

"No," Pam said, standing up primly. "I'm just having a good time. At your party. Is that against the law?"

"Only if you get a little too rowdy," he said, smirking and raising an eyebrow at her.

"I promise to behave, Officer Halpert," she said, smiling sweetly. "If only so that means Dwight doesn't try to take me down, volunteer deputy-style," she added, as they both started snickering.

"Yeah, having Dwight pin you seems like a frightening concept."

"Tell me about it," Pam said from across the room. "I've been there before. Shirtless Dwight is not --"

"I am not what?" Dwight asked, coming into the kitchen.

Pam grimaced involuntarily. Jim snorted, covering his mouth and turning away.

"Taking your shirt off -- that is not appropriate party behavior," Pam said, trying to look serious. "So, you know -- keep your shirt on."

Dwight made a face. "Huh," he said. "The only reason I would ever need to take my shirt off was if there was an emergency, Pamela. Like when you fell off that stool during this year's Dundies. If the manager hadn't stopped me, I could have dealt with the situation like it needed to be --"

"Right, right," Pam said, heading back over towards Jim, and sitting down. Dwight followed her. "You were a true hero that night, Dwight. At least, you tried to be, and that's what's important. Right, Jim?" she asked.

Jim was still trying to cover the smile on his face. "Absolutely," he said through his hand. He rubbed his face with his hand, looking up at Dwight with a newly serious expression. "So, yeah, I expect you to keep a close watch on the safety of people tonight, Dwight. Especially given Pam's past history."

"Jim!" Pam said, frowning. She looked at Dwight. "I'm fine -- the Dundies were -- I'll be fine tonight."

Dwight leaned down to look at Pam. "Your pupils already look a little bloodshot." He started to reach for Pam's beer, but Jim stopped him.

"What are you doing?" Jim asked.

"I was going to tell her to lay off the beer a little bit. She's already showing signs of slight intoxication," Dwight said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm fine, Dwight!"

"Dwight--" Jim said. "She's fine for now. I was kidding. I'll keep an eye on her. I promise."

"Yeah, just like you did at the Dundies, Jim? She could have cracked her head open!"

"Dwight?" Jim said. He regretted saying anything to Dwight at all. It was easy to forget how annoying Dwight could be sometimes. "Seriously."

"Fine," Dwight said, exasperated. "If you need me, I'll be surveying the grounds to make sure there aren't any party crashers hanging around the edge of your property."

"Great--" Jim said. "That sounds ... great. Please do that."

By now, Creed had stepped up to the machine and was singing a really decent version of "Let it Be." Jim had heard a rumor that Creed had been a singer in some band in the sixties, but no one knew whether that was really true, or if Creed was just a good singer. He glanced over at Pam, who was swaying back and forth to the music. On an impulse, Jim grabbed her hand and raised it up into the air, swinging it back and forth. At first, she looked surprised, but she didn't say anything, and after a few seconds, she grinned at him and took Meredith's hand on her other side. Before long, the whole room was swaying back and forth.

===

Kevin was in the middle of probably the most awful version of "I Will Survive" that Jim had ever heard, when Michael burst into the room. Dwight jumped up with an excited, "Surprise!"

Jim really wasn't shocked that Michael had decided to crash the party. He knew Michael knew about it but that no one had wanted to be the one to invite him (save for Dwight, who thought that the whole party was a surprise for Michael, of course). Now that he was here -- well, there wasn't anything to do but humor him and try to keep everyone from leaving.

Michael said, "Come on. Let's-- let's get this party staaaaa-arted. Ha! Okay. Where's that wine?" He looked at Jim.

Jim quickly rushed into the kitchen to pour the wine that Michael had brought. Maybe if he had a drink or two, Michael would mellow out. Jim hoped.

Pam had followed him into the kitchen, and picked up the bottle Jim had just poured. "Pinot Grigio?" she asked, giggling. "Isn't this a girl wine?"

Jim looked at her, grinning. "Maybe, but we know that Michael sometimes has very, um, sensitive tastes, so..."

Pam set the bottle down on the counter a bit too hard. It clinked loudly. "I like Pinot Grigio," she said.

"I'm sure you do. Now, I have to deliver this wine to Michael, so why don't you sit on the couch next to Terri, and I'll be right over." Jim gestured to where Stanley and his wife were sitting.

Michael was pacing impatiently around the back porch and popped his head in. "Don't you have any Dijon mustard for the brats?" Michael asked. "You know --" he said, changing his voice to resemble a so-called posh accent, "Pardon me, do you happen to have any Grey Poupon?" Michael snorted.

"Um," Jim said. "I will check." He handed Michael the glass of wine and started rooting around the fridge for the mustard. A second later, he pulled out a small, squat bottle of mustard. "I have Cajun mustard," Jim called back out onto the porch.

"Blech," Michael said, coming into the house. "Hot stuff gives me gas. I'll go without."

Jim glanced over at Pam to see if she'd heard that, but she was busy talking to Terri. Smiling to himself, he walked over to the couch and settled in next to her. Kelly had stepped up to the karaoke machine and started singing "Lucky" by Britney Spears.

"Oh, I love this song!" Michael said, his mouth full of food.

"Dude," Ryan said, brushing crumbs off his sleeve.

"What?" Michael asked. "It's a good song." He started humming to the tune, swaying back and forth.

"Hey!" Meredith said as he bumped into her.

"Get into the mood, Meredith. It's a par-tay!" Michael turned to look at Jim. "Hey, when do I get to sing? I called dibs."

"After this song," Jim said. "Kelly's been wanting to do this all night."

"Fine," Michael said, leaning back against the couch arm and stuffing another brat into his mouth.

===


You must login (register) to review or leave jellybeans