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Chap. 1: Monday after a Night with Jack
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Jim’s hand flops around on his bedside table, groping for the alarm clock that’s shrieking in his ear. He grabs it, clicking the alarm off. He picks up the clock and glares at it with pure hatred.
It can’t be 6:30 yet. That’s just...not possible. He only went to bed a few minutes ago, didn’t he? This has to be a mistake. He must have screwed up when he set it.
No such goddam luck. There’s the clock. Laughing at him. “Good morning, Loverboy! Time to get up.” He yanks the cord free from the wall socket and throws the clock across the room. The sudden action sends a spasm of pain though his head. He moans, and he remembers.
Reaching down to the floor next to his bed he finds the bottle. He lifts it and looks at it with the same hatred he had shown the alarm clock. The bottle of Jack Daniels that he had bought just yesterday is a good two-thirds gone. Jesus Christ. He knew he had drunk a lot last night, but he didn’t think it was that much. How had that happened? Oh yeah...it’s coming back to him now.
The skipped meals and the sleepless nights. The hours in front of the TV or the computer, looking for anything to distract him from his embarrassment and regret. The four different emails - finished but never sent. And then the fifth one which he did send on Saturday, and which she had never answered. Last night he finally decided to kill the pain in a more direct way, and every drink he took made the next drink seem like a better idea. He’d had bad nights before. But not like that one.
“You better get your shit together, Halpert,” he thinks. “You don’t want to end up like Uncle Rob. And alcoholism isn’t going to make you any more attractive to her. Of course, being attractive to her doesn’t seem to be much of an issue anymore.”
As the sleepiness wears off the hangover intensifies. This one’s going to be a bitch! He lurches to his feet, struggling to keep his stomach in its place, and staggers to the bathroom to take care of the usual morning business. He gets four Bayer and draws a big glass of water, swallowing them at a gulp. If the aspirin kicks in soon he might be able to get to work on time. Like that’s an attractive prospect. Happy Monday!
Coffee. Coffee’s next. He walks slowly to the kitchen. At least Mark’s was still at his girlfriend’s place. That’s a blessing. He’s a great guy and all, but the last thing Jim needs is cheery Morning Person banter today. He just wants to get his coffee, nurse his pain, and think about how badly he fucked things up last Friday.
It had started so well, too! One of his greatest pranks ever - sticking Dwight’s desk in the men’s room! Everyone had loved it. Especially Pam! She had looked at him with such bubbly warmth as he called his Office Nemesis to ask about pricing discounts - while said Nemesis was wedged up against the urinals! It was a beautiful start to a beautiful day of killing time and entertaining his dearest...friend.
Things became a bit less perfect as the day wore on. Even for Michael, Michael was being a horse’s ass. As he kept procrastinating on signing those stupid forms Pam was getting more and more stressed and unhappy. Jim did what he could to keep things light. He let her read his palm (an activity which required her to hold his hand, so...bonus!). He also kept needling Dwight about the stupid martial arts stuff, and that’s where things went to shit. That fucking dojo! What the hell...
...then he got honest. It wasn’t the dojo, or Dwight, or Michael. It was all him. There had been only one asshole that day, and he was it. They had been having so much fun, and then he had to push it too fucking far. He had to let his hormones take over, and grab her like she was a piece of meat! God damn it!
As he slams his fist into his thigh in a fresh wave of shame, he’s grabbed by conflicting memories. First, how good it felt to hold her. To touch her that way. He had felt her hands before, but never her body. He remembered how her shirt rode up as they wrestled, and how he was suddenly grasping the bare skin of her belly. Jesus, that felt so good! The thrill and the joy of it had completely possessed him. That’s why he didn’t notice that all at once she had stopped giggling. Now he remembers her embarrassment. Her anger. How she had yanked herself away from him - to stay away from him for the rest of the day. She wouldn’t look at him in the dojo, the elevator or the office. She wouldn’t look at him when he said “Good night” and gave her the chips. She treated him more coldly than she had ever treated Michael. And he hadn’t felt so shitty in years.
After his coffee (and no breakfast - his stomach definitely isn’t ready for that!) he continues to torture himself during the drive into work. But he’s thinking about more than the dojo. He starts thinking about Halloween, when she had given him all those mixed signals. First she’s telling him to move to fucking Maryland to take a new job, and then she’s telling him that she’d kill herself if he left! What the hell? It’s always like that, and it’s really getting to him. First she’s friendly and flirty and acting like her time with him is the best time of her day. Then something happens. Roy shows up and suddenly she only has eyes for him - like after that basketball game. Or she gets scared and pulls back. “This far, and no farther”, she seems to say, “until I decide to change the rules again.” It isn’t fair! And he can’t deal with it much longer.
“I’m going to tell her,” he decides. “This isn’t good for either of us, and it has to stop. She can’t act like she’s attracted to me one minute. then pull away the next! I want her to make a goddamned decision, and then stick by it! What does she want? Does she want us to be casual co-workers, like Phyllis and Stanley? Does she want to be Best Friends? Or does she want to be more than that? It’s time for her to stop jerking me around like this!”
But even as he finishes this very satisfying little tirade, while pulling into the parking lot, he knows it’s all BS. He isn’t going to be making any ultimatums to Pam today. He isn’t going to lay down the law about how he expects to be treated. Because if she decides that this is all too high-maintenance for her, and kicks him to the curb, it’ll kill him. Pam is the most precious thing in his life. Whether she knows it or not, she’s what gets him up every morning, and keeps him coming to this shit-on-a-stick job.
He doesn’t want to throw down with her this morning. He wants to fix things with her. To make all of Friday’s weirdness go away. No matter what it costs, he wants things to get back to normal.
Then the elevator arrives at his floor. He focuses, and puts a smile on his face. He steps out into the hallway with all the vigor and confidence he can dredge up. No one would look at him and know he was dying of a terminal hangover. He’s the Man!
She’s already at her desk. And...she looks pissed. No matter! He’s always able to put her in a good mood. “Time to do your stuff, Halpert.”
“Hey! ‘Mornin’, Beesley!” He leans across the reception desk, trying to coax a smile out of her while digging into the jellybean jar. “So..uh...did you guys ever get Michael to sign all that stuff Friday night?”
“Look, I’m sorry, but I just don’t have time to talk this morning. And you have a ton of messages. They’re on your desk.”
Cold as ice. She won’t even look at him. He wants to vomit.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Jim's having a bad morning, after a very bad night.
And the rest of the day's not looking too good, either.
And the rest of the day's not looking too good, either.
Chapter End Notes:
Ooops. In my enthusiasm to get this story posted I made a huge continuity error. 'The Fight' takes place on a Friday! I've made some tweaks to fix the goof. Chap. 2 is in process. Thanks to all who've read and reviewed.
