Pam could see Michael and Jim approaching the office. Michael was still on crutches with the packaging still ridiculously wrapped around his foot. It looked like he didn’t take advantage of the fact that he just left the ER with Dwight. That would have made too much sense. Michael stopped in front of the Dunder Mifflin door and waited for Jim to open it for him. Jim let it slip once as Michael was going through the door. Jim caught it before it knocked Michael over, but not before it hit him. Pam tried to suppress the chuckle Jim’s action caused. She knew Michael must have been really annoying for Jim to be openly hostile. Michael headed straight for his office while Jim stopped at reception.
“How’s Dwight?”
“He’ll be Dwight again by tomorrow unfortunately.”
“That is kind of unfortunate. I liked concussed Dwight. He was almost normal”
“Almost, Pam, almost,”
Jim took a jelly bean, tossed it into his mouth, and then preceded four strides to his desk. He had to try to get some work done today. Who was he kidding? It was already 4:50PM. There weren’t any messages for him on his phone or in his e-mail. So really he came back to shut down his computer. Oh, and get rid of Michael.
The entire office stopped working when Michael bellowed, “Oh crap!” from his office. It was followed by Michael trying to make it out of his office. His crutch caught on the door jam. To keep himself from falling he used his cooked foot for balance. This caused him to drop his crutches, reach for his injured foot, again lose his balance, but this time he did fall and ended up squirming on the ground like a turtle who couldn’t flip to his feet.
Jim picked up the crutches. He was first there after all, so he got first choice on what to do to ‘help.’ He held them up in front of Michael. He held them steady expecting Michael to climb his way back into a standing position. No one else moved to help.
“A little help, PUH-lease,” Michael exclaimed, obviously with drastic undertones.
“I am helping Michael,” Jim said. “Use your crutches to pull yourself up. I won’t let go.”
“I can’t do that! I’m injured! I need some real help. RYAN!”
Not being able to play dead anymore, Ryan rolled his eyes, but slowly moved towards Michael. Ryan held out a hand and Michael’s two arms clasped on. “There.” Ryan went to go back to his desk. It had to be 5 o’clock. Sweet freedom.
“What was the ‘oh crap!’ for?” Jim asked Michael before slowly stepping away.
“I just remembered Dwight was supposed to stay late for me tonight. I have improv tonight and Packer is supposed to pick up the monster truck tickets I promised him.”
“You promised Packer monster truck tickets?”
“Promised. Lost a bet. What does it matter?”
“What was the bet?”
“If Pam’s rack was real”
Jim’s eyebrows shot up. Pam’s jaw dropped. The rest of the office was filled with gasps of disbelief, disgust, and a little snickering by way of Kevin.
“And you lost?” Jim asked. He was sure Pam was going to kill him for continuing this conversation but he couldn’t help himself.
“Obviously, or I wouldn’t have to give him the tickets,” most of the time Michael thought Jim was smart but at times like these he just wanted to stick out his tongue and go DUH! “So anyways, I need someone to stay late.”
Everyone started to look anywhere but Michael. Angela sat down so not to be seen. Half the office picked up the phone and started to talk to the dial tone. But Pam was brave, brave enough for two.
“Jim and I will do it,” she offered.
“What?!?” Jim looked at her in utter disbelief. She did not just offer to do Michael a favor.
“It is really only a one person job,” Michael explained. “Besides I still…”
“You shouldn’t walk to your car alone at night,” Pam interrupted. “Not safe, even in Scranton.”
“Fine,” Michael scoffed. “You and Jim can be in charge of the tickets. Now I was saying, I still need a ride home.”
Pam winked at Jim. She was brilliant. Michael in a small car for 20 minutes was way worse than 10 seconds of Packer. He bowed to the queen. She curtsied back.
“Alright Ryan, let’s go,” Michael started towards the door without waiting for an agreement from Ryan. “Pam, the tickets are on my desk. Everyone else, see you tomorrow.”
Ryan stomped after Michael. He was going to break the speed of light to off load Michael as quickly as he could. One by one everyone else collected their coats, said goodnight, and filed out the door.
“So what are we going to do while we wait for Packer?” Jim asked.
“Hate ball?” Pam suggested. “Oh wait, I should call down to Roy!”
“Hate ball made you think of Roy?” he asked as she dialed the warehouse extension.
“Shh!” she insisted. “Hey Darryl, can I talk to Roy…hey yourself…you can go home without me tonight…yeah, I have to work late. Michael…yeah I know right?...Oh um, Jim said he would drive me home…yep he is stuck here too…I’ll tell you about it when I get home…uh huh…bye”
“I’m giving you are ride home? I thought this was supposed to get me out of bringing someone else home,” he pretended to pout.
“Are you comparing my company to Michael’s?”
“Wouldn’t dare. It’s just…I…am almost out of gas and we don’t get paid until Friday…”
“Just shut up,” she laughed. “So what are we going to do? You didn’t seem too excited about hate ball.”
The minutes ticked by slowly. They played hate ball. They threw paperclips into Phyllis’ coffee mug. It was more challenging that Dwight’s. They moved Dwight’s desk onto the roof. And now they were bored. It was 8:30 PM and still Packer hadn’t shown up.
“Know any,” Jim began to dig in his bag, “drinking games?” He produced the bottle of alcohol he confiscated from Meredith’s car.
“You always keep alcohol in there?” she asked in disbelief.
“Found it in Meredith’s car on the way to the hospital.”
“You will eventually have to drive me home.”
“Ok, maybe just A drink then. Unless of course you are more like Angela then I thought.” He smiled knowing this was going to be too easy. She wouldn’t back down from a challenge like that.
“I’ll get the grape soda,” she marched passed him on the way to the break room.
“I like the way you think Beesly,” he smiled and followed a step behind.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
7:30 AM is when the first call came in to Dunder Mifflin the next morning. They were sitting side by side on the floor under Pam’s desk passed out. Jim’s arm was around Pam’s waist pulling her tighter to him. Pam returned the gesture wrapping her arm around his waist. Her head rested on his shoulder, his on her head. His legs were straight ahead of him, hers were curled slightly behind her. One could best describe them as being entangled. The second ring of the phone woke them both up.
Both groaned. The noise of the phone seemed 100 times louder with a hangover.
“Make it stop,” she mumbled.
“Can’t move,” he mumbled back.
At that moment Jim realized he wasn’t alone. At that moment Pam realized she wasn’t with Roy. They both flew upright, both hitting their heads on the bottom of her desk. Clutching their heads, they both continued to scramble to standing positions.
“What the hell happened?” Pam asked herself as much as she asked him.
“I don’t remember,” Jim tried but his head pounded too much to think.
Six empty grape soda cans rested haphazardly on the reception desk. The once full bottle of liquor, now empty, was also there, upright and taunting them.
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.
Chapter End Notes:
I could use a beta if anyone is interested.
