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.
It was an unusually warm spring day in Philadelphia’s Central City neighborhood, and Pam Beesly couldn’t be happier. She was finally moving out of her old neighborhood to start her new life in her own apartment. As she pulled into the parking lot behind the red brick rowhouse, her moving van right behind her, she let out a satisfied sigh.
She had been dreaming about living in Rittenhouse Square ever since she was a little girl and her parents would take her and her older sisters to the beautiful neighborhood park. As they drove past block after block of terraced houses, Pam imagined what it would be like to live in them, right in the heart of the city. Now, her dream was becoming a reality, and she had reached it all on her own.
Pam worked in the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, as their graphic designer and website manager. In addition to being responsible for the upkeep of the academy’s website, she was also in charge of putting together the literature on different exhibitions and events, and always did exceptional work. Ryan, her boss, was so impressed by her creations that he had given her a hefty raise last month, which helped her afford the rent she would be paying for her new place on Spruce Street.
She got out of her car and watched for a moment as her boyfriend pulled the moving van in as close as he could to the back door. “That’s good, Roy!” Pam shouted from behind him, and so he stuck a thumbs-up out the window and cut the engine. He and Darryl, a friend of his from work, were going to do all the heavy lifting for her. Now all she had to do was get the key.
She rang the bell for the super, and was a little startled when he responded over the intercom, “State your business.”
“Um, I’m Pam Beesly. I’m moving in to apartment 3B?”
There was a sigh over the intercom and then the voice replied, “My apartment is downstairs in the basement. Let me get your key—” He buzzed her in and she went inside, making sure to keep the door propped open for Roy and Darryl to start bringing in boxes, and then headed down the stairs.
She softly knocked on the door and a tall man with glasses and a scowling expression answered the door. “Pam Beesly?”
“Yes?”
“Let’s see some ID.”
“Are you kidding?”
He shook his head and Pam let out an exasperated sigh, digging through her purse to find her wallet. Once she showed him her driver’s license, his suspicious of her seemed to diminish.
His face grew softer, “Hello, I am Dwight K. Schrute, the superintendent. Here are your keys—” He handed her two keys, “This one is for the outside and that one is for your apartment. Please follow me.”
He led her up the stairs, only stopping for a moment to close the propped-open door, which she could hear him grumbling angrily about. They reached the top floor and Pam smiled when she only saw one door on each side of the hall. It meant her apartment was enormous—prime real estate in this neighborhood—and it was all hers.
“All right, 3B…” she followed him to the door and he stood guard as she unlocked it for the first time. She opened the door and gazed upon the most beautiful apartment she had ever seen: hardwood floors, a newly renovated kitchen with stainless steel appliances, and amazing skylights up above them. She thought she’d died and gone to heaven.
“Now, here is a write-up directly from the landlord, which tells you how to set up utility payments: heat, electricity, gas, and water. If your apartment needs maintenance, I am always on call—my home phone number, my cell number, my pager number, and my fax number are at the bottom there…” He glared at her sternly, as if trying to judge what kind of tenant she’d be, “And just so you know, I am obligated to call the proper authorities if there is any shenanigans or illegal activity going on. This is a safe neighborhood, and it’s my duty to see it stays that way. Is this understood?”
Pam felt like she was being reprimanded by a schoolteacher, but even though she didn’t like it, she didn’t call him out on it. “Yes sir,” she replied, not wanting to get on the super’s bad side on her first day in the building. Dwight nodded in response and left her to her new apartment. She was just running her fingers over the marble kitchen countertops when her cell phone rang. “Hey babe… Yeah, I left the door open for you, but the super closed it… I’ll be right there.”
... … …
What a day. He couldn’t believe the amount of 3-pointers Iguodala scored after their interview. At this rate, they’d be in the playoffs in a couple months, and had a good chance of winning at that.
When Jim Halpert started out as a staff writer for the sports section of The Philadelphia Inquirer, he never expected to rise to fame so quickly. Or rather, he expected to be commended for winning prizes for his articles, not for being everyone’s good luck charm. It all started when Brett Myers pitched a perfect game after an interview with him, and Philly fans—and players—were quick to make Jim the cause of the amazing performance.
Then it began happening with everyone. No matter what the sport, anyone Jim did an interview with would play outstandingly in their next game, and fans ate it up. Some were even calling him the end of the curse of William Penn. Jim was flattered, but it was scary being put in that position. He just hoped the ridiculous streak of luck continued.
When he arrived home, he saw Dwight fiddling with the intercom at the back door. Jim couldn’t help but smile; any chance he had to mess with Dwight was welcome. He casually walked up and asked, “Intercom broken?”
“No, Jim,” Dwight sighed, accenting his name in annoyance. “The new tenant moved in today, and I am labeling her apartment with her name.”
Jim read the new name on the label: “Beesly…”
“Yes, and don’t go try and corrupting her with your idiotic pranks.”
“Idiotic?” Jim feigned shock. “Well they fool you every time, so…”
“Just!—” Dwight stammered and moved out of the way of the door, “Go take a shower. You smell like cheap beer.”
Jim shrugged and went inside the building, but stopped at the top of the stairs when he heard muffled shouting coming from his new neighbor’s apartment. He didn’t want to be nosy, but they were being so loud that he could hear every word:
“So you think you’re too good for me now?!” a male voice roared in anger.
“I never said that!” a female voice countered. “I’ve always told you this is what I wanted. You never listen!”
“No, I am listening, that’s the problem! I hear you when you talk about your future, and somehow I don’t see how I fit into the picture!”
“Maybe because I don’t want to be stuck as your little housewife for the rest of my life!”
“Well if that’s the way you feel, then maybe you won’t have to!”
Jim made a quick escape into his apartment, and then heard the door across the hall open and slam shut and a pair of boots clunk down the hallway. He then heard the door open again, and this time a pair of quieter feet made their way down the hall and out another door. He figured his new neighbor had gone to the terrace out back. He wanted to introduce himself, but didn’t want to bother her if she was upset, and so he did as Dwight had advised and took a shower. He did smell like beer.
… … …
After freshening up, Jim headed to the kitchen to make himself a late dinner, but was surprised by some faint sobs coming from outside the window. He glanced at the clock and wondered if this girl had been crying this whole time, and feeling like he couldn’t just ignore her, he decided he would go out and meet her, maybe get her to calm down. He also assumed she probably didn’t have any food in her apartment yet, and so instead of just making one ham and cheese sandwich, he made two.
He quietly approached the terrace door, sandwiches in hand, and knocked gently against it. Pam jumped out of her chair at the noise, but was calmed when she saw a smiling man carrying a couple of sandwiches. She dried her tears as he came outside and sat next to her, and they exchanged a small smile.
He set the sandwiches between them, and for a long moment they were silent. Finally, Pam spoke up, “You live in 3A?” He nodded and she continued, “Man, what a first impression to make. I don’t know what you must think of me…”
“I don’t think anything about you,” he replied softly as they stared out onto the street below, watching cars passing and people walking by. It was a comforting lie; he already had so many thoughts about her, including how in the world someone could want to make her so upset.
“I just—I’m sorry. My boyfriend—”
“That was your boyfriend?” Jim interrupted and scoffed as he looked over at her. She shrunk down in her chair, even more ashamed than she was before, and he realized she had taken it personally, “It’s just—I mean… sorry. He should have more respect for you, that’s all…” Silence. “You certainly sounded like you were handling him all right, though.”
She chuckled, “Yeah, I can hold my own.” They let another beat pass between them before she spoke up again, “He just doesn’t like that I’m ‘moving up and leaving him behind’…” she used a pair of air quotes to accentuate her point, and then shook her head, “I don’t think that’s I’m doing, but he’s so stubborn…”
“Where did you move from?”
“Kensington.”
“Kensington? Seriously?” Jim asked in disbelief, and she nodded. “Wow… no wonder he thinks that. Going from there to here—huge upgrade.”
She laughed, “Tell me about it. I’ve wanted to live here ever since I was little.”
“Me too,” Jim agreed. “And now that I’ve been here a while, I love it. I can’t imagine living anywhere else…” he looked over and saw her smiling, and so he finally felt comfortable to make his introductions, “I’m Jim, by the way, and that sandwich is for you if you want it.”
“Thanks.” Pam was a little hungry, and so she began to eat. “I’m Pam,” she told him with her mouth full.
He chuckled at her, “Geez, Ms. Kensington, take a big enough bite?”
“Last name’s Beesly, thank you, and I didn’t realize I was having a late-night snack with the Prince of Wales.”
“Oh you’re not, I just appreciate good manners.”
She giggled at him and they munched on their sandwiches, making small talk as they ate. They asked each other about their jobs, their hobbies, and finally she asked him about living in the neighborhood.
“So, is it just me, or is the super kind of—”
“Insane?”
Pam laughed, ”Okay, so it’s not just me.”
“Not at all,” they exchanged a smile and he continued, “Nah, I mean, he’s very protective, which is good for the building. He can just be a little controlling sometimes. He wants to think he has a lot of power… I sometimes like to take him down a few notches by playing pranks on him.”
“Really? Like what?”
Jim thought for a moment, “Well, one time I put some of his stuff in the vending machine downstairs.” Pam gave him a momentary look of disbelief and then burst into laugher. It made him feel good to be able to make her laugh. “Yeah, uh, I went down to talk to him about fixing my garbage disposal, and he wasn’t there, but his door was unlocked. And then I saw the vending guy restocking the machines, and just… thought it would be kinda funny.”
Pam regained control of her giggles, “How did he get all his stuff out of there?”
“He had to buy it all back, of course.”
“That’s really cool.”
“Thanks.”
Pam saw the twinkle in his eye and felt relived to have such a friendly neighbor. She didn’t think anyone in her building would be this outgoing, so she was pleasantly surprised to be laughing with the guy across the hall over sandwiches on her very first night there.
“So, hey,” Jim broke her train of thought and she glanced over at him. He looked a little nervous. “I don’t know how familiar you are with stuff in this neighborhood, but uh, maybe this weekend I could show you around?”
“Sure,” Pam’s face lit up at the invitation, and she felt her heart race a little in excitement.
“Great,” he found it difficult to contain his smile as well, and then felt slightly embarrassed for being so eager. He hadn’t ever felt like this around a woman, and didn’t quite know how to deal with the tension. He decided finally to make his escape, “I’m gonna go to bed. But I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Night.”
“Night.” He picked up the now-empty plate and retreated inside, leaving Pam out on the terrace by herself. She felt a cool breeze brush by her, removing a few strands of hair from behind her ear, and so she quickly caught them and tucked them back into place. She smiled to herself as she thought about the hidden perks of living in a good neighborhood, and wondered what else she had still to discover about living there. She was thrilled to find out.
Story Notes:
I am really getting into the AU style fic, and I've actually had this story idea in my head for a while. So after doing some research (and by 'research', I mean Wikipedia), I realized I could actually pull this off! Thusly, this story came to fruition.
Wikipedia is the best thing ever.
Wikipedia is the best thing ever.
Author's Chapter Notes:
The biggest and most appreciative thanks to EmilyHalpert for the beta. Words can't I sometimes put in the order of right. She fixes them, and a lot of other stuff.
Chapter End Notes:
Just in case people were confused about what the heck the curse of William Penn was: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curse_of_Billy_Penn
