How Eeyore Made An Amigo
by Steph
Summary: Somehow Oscar began to think of him as a friend rather than as that poor guy at work he just kind of felt sorry for.
Timeline: Goes from Gay Witch Hunt to Weight Loss, including two wonderful deleted scenes. The one in Launch Party where Oscar helps Toby with traffic school (and does a hilarious talking head describing Toby's driving skills) and in Weight Loss where Oscar and Toby have a web chat.
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.
----
“I’m sorry.”
Oscar looked up from his desk. Toby.
He didn’t say anything at first. After one of the worst experiences of his life, he had just finished a way-too-long conversation with lawyers and Jan and had signed document after document swearing he wouldn’t sue the company. Instead he would get a car and a three month vacation to Europe.
He had always dreamed of traveling to Europe.
Granted he never expected he’d be going because his boss had outed him, humiliated him and then kissed him. But still.
“Working here,” Toby mumbled, “you constantly see things you wouldn’t see other places. Certain people here act in ways you’d never expect.”
Well that was a little bit of an understatement.
“Yes,” Oscar agreed, grabbing his jacket.
“It’s just...”
Oscar frowned, impatient. He was anxious to get home, to start planning a trip that would take him far, far away from people like Angela, treating him like he had the plague, and Kevin, giggling because being gay was the funniest thing he could imagine. Far, far away from Michael.
And Toby was just standing there, mumbling. Taking his sweet time.
“I really should have tried to stop the meeting before it got so out-of-hand.” Toby shook his head. “It’s my job to make sure things like that don’t happen.” He sighed. “I was just kind of stunned silent. Dumbfounded.” He sighed again. “I didn’t think it was... that he was going to...”
The way Toby was talking, pausing and sighing after every halting sentence, this conversation could easily last another hour.
Oscar did not have another hour.
“It’s okay,” Oscar said. “I mean it’s definitely not okay, but I’m not blaming you for what he did. I don’t know if you could have stopped him.” He cleared his throat. “I need to go. Gil and I have to start planning a vacation. Europe.”
“Europe,” Toby repeated. He nodded, then smiled dreamily to himself, and Oscar wondered if he was reliving some Amsterdam stoner adventure of his. “Europe,” Toby said again.
“Yes,” Oscar said. He looked at his watch. “I really need to get going.”
“Right,” Toby said, snapping out of his reverie. “Have a fantastic trip.”
“Thanks.” Oscar smiled. “Maybe I won’t come back.”
“I wouldn’t,” Toby said, before heading back to the annex.
--
A few days after Oscar returned to work, once Dwight came back from Staples to a hero’s welcome and Andy left after introducing his fist to the wall, once Kevin stopped with the gay-cation jokes and Angela started talking to him again and he could look at Michael without feeling something like nausea, he sent a mass email to his coworkers with pictures from his trip. In case anyone was interested.
The next day, Toby walked over to his desk, a stack of pictures in his hand.
“I know we said we weren’t going to share photos or anything, but I thought maybe...” Toby stopped, noticing Angela glaring at him. “Or not.”
“No,” Oscar said. “It’s okay.”
And so as Toby hovered over his shoulder, Oscar flipped through picture after picture of a child’s birthday party filled with people he didn’t know. “Nice,” he said, trying not to sound too bored.
The next photo was of Toby’s daughter standing with a man and a woman.
“Yeah,” Toby said. “That’s...uh. That’s my ex and her new husband. She asked if I’d take a picture of the three of them.” He stared at the picture, frowning. “She couldn’t find her camera so we used mine...”
Jesus, Oscar thought to himself, quickly grabbing another picture. The last picture was of Toby and his daughter together. The girl had a blue frosting smile and was happily holding up a Hannah Montana doll.
“That was one of my presents,” Toby said, almost as an apology. “Sasha likes the show and Kelly suggested I get her a doll.”
“Looks like it was a hit,” Oscar said, handing him the photos back. “I should get back to work.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Later that day, Oscar was tempted to send Toby an email telling him to get rid of that picture of his daughter and his ex and the husband. Then he realized it was really none of his business and remembered that he wasn’t a busybody like most of the people in this office, so he didn’t.
--
Michael booked some restaurant for a Dunder Mifflin anniversary party even though Oscar still wasn’t quite sure what or whose anniversary they were celebrating. With Michael, it was just easier to go along with him sometimes.
Gil decided to come even though Oscar assured him he didn’t have to. But Gil said he had only met Dwight and he was so curious to meet everyone else after hearing all the stories and Oscar didn’t know how to say that it might just be easier if they both stayed home.
The evening was already off to a miserable start because they were behind some horrible driver who was driving at something like fifteen miles an hour and not letting them pass.
“Why does he have his hazard lights on?” Gil wondered.
“Because he can’t drive,” Oscar said, annoyed.
He knew he should just relax. It would be okay. He would point Gil in the direction of Pam and Jim, Phyllis and Stanley. He would keep him away from Michael and Angela. Yes. It would be okay.
They followed the horrible driver into the restaurant’s lot, Gil parking into the empty spot next to him.
Oscar looked over to see if the slowest driver in America happened to be one of his coworkers.
Yep. Toby.
Oscar introduced Gil and Toby and the three of them walked into the restaurant together. Not too many people were there yet so they headed to the bar and said hello to Meredith, who it seemed had been there awhile.
While Oscar waited for the drinks he ordered, he talked to Kevin and Stacy.
“Who’s that?” Kevin giggled. “Is that your boyfriend?”
Oscar looked over to where he was pointing. Gil was still talking to Toby. Kelly stood there too, holding Ryan’s arm in a death grip, no doubt waiting for an opportunity to snag herself a new gay best friend.
“Yes,” Oscar said. “His name is Gil.”
“Maybe Toby’s going to steal your boyfriend,” Kevin said, snickering some more. Stacy, looking embarrassed, shushed him.
On the drive home, Gil said, “Interesting group of people you work with.”
Oscar groaned. In addition to Kevin giggling, there was Kelly asking Gil’s thoughts on Lance Bass and other gay celebrities, Michael just being his usual insensitive self and Angela scowling disapprovingly in their direction every chance she could.
“I like your one friend,” Gil said. “He was pretty interesting.”
“Who?”
“The bad driver,” Gil said. “Eeyore.”
Oscar snorted. It was an apt nickname.
“And we’ll just have to have that Angela over for dinner sometime...”
--
Oscar sat down next to Toby in the breakroom. Toby looked up from his turkey sandwich.
“I suspect that Angela’s trying to get me deported,” Oscar said.
Toby stared at him. Blinked a few times. Finally he stood up. “Let me get my notebook.”
--
The Finer Things Club was one of those things that kind of started out as a joke. One day Oscar and Pam started talking about books and then Toby shuffled over, eager for any excuse to talk to Pam.
All three of them were readers and they talked about meeting to discuss books during weekends, but weekends were bad for Pam (art classes, hanging out with Jim - and oh how Toby’s face had fallen when she had said that) and Toby (he had Sasha some weekends).
Oscar, who was on the outs with Gil at the moment, had felt an odd sort of disappointment. He suggested that they meet at work.
He knew it was a ridiculous notion: them sitting in the breakroom in the midst of all the chaos that was this place. But they all began brainstorming making each new idea crazier and crazier (“We’ll have theme meals!” “We can dress up and eat on fine china!”) and the three of them watched each other waiting for someone to supply a burst of laughter or a practical reason why it wouldn’t work.
“I think we should do it,” Pam said instead.
“Me too,” Toby agreed.
Of course he did.
They both looked at Oscar.
“Sure,” Oscar said. “We could try it.”
So the three of them dressed up and ate fancy food and it was a break from the monotony of answering phones or dealing with Kevin and Angela or dealing with Michael blaming you for everything under the sun.
It was... fun.
Oscar would, at least in the beginning (before his other coworkers got too disruptive bothering the three of them in the breakroom, before Jim got involved and tried so hard to be funny, before they eventually agreed to disband, now sharing book and movie recommendations and critiques by email), go back to his desk after a meeting in a great mood. He would smile at Angela (and sometimes she would just barely smile back) and he would joke with Kevin and he found himself starting to enjoy work again.
--
“Can I ask you a favor?”
Oscar put down the paper football, ignoring Kevin’s protest. “Sure.”
Toby explained about his traffic ticket for driving too slow (no kidding) and how he was having trouble with the internet traffic school.
“Trouble as in not being able to figure out the website?”
“No,” Toby said. His cheeks colored just a bit. “I can’t figure out the answers.”
Oscar sat down with him in the annex and watched Toby struggle with the simplest of questions. Watched him misidentify a stop sign.
“You know the octagon sign means stop,” Oscar said.
“Colorblind.”
Well that explained most of Toby’s wardrobe choices. But not the fact that he didn’t know what a stop sign was.
“An octagon is a shape,” Oscar said. “You can see shapes, can't you?”
Toby mumbled something about it being out-of-context, before getting another question wrong.
Toby nodded at the error message as if expecting it.
“I can’t do this,” Toby said. He slumped even further in his chair. “It’s hopeless.”
Oscar felt a rush of pity for him and when he spoke his tone was kind. “It’s okay. Just think about your answer before you click. Focus.”
“I can’t focus,” Toby said. Then, in a strained voice, he said, “They awarded her full custody. Now I’ll only get to see my daughter every other weekend. That’s twice a month. That’s nothing. She’s going to forget who I am. That I’m her dad. How am I supposed to focus on anything?”
Oscar didn’t know what to say. He could hear Kelly talking on the phone in the cubicle next to them. Seconds passed in uncomfortable silence as Oscar wondered if he should leave.
“Sorry,” Toby finally said. He took a deep breath. Then another. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“That’s okay,” Oscar said. “Why don’t you take a walk or get some lunch or something? Take a break. Come back and take the test. Then just take it one question at a time.”
“Okay,” Toby said. “Okay.”
Later that day, Toby found him at the vending machine. “Thanks for the advice. I passed the test.”
“Congratulations.”
“I was wondering if I could take you out for a beer for helping me today. I’ll treat Gil too. You two are...?”
Oscar nodded. “Yeah. We are.”
There had been a rough month or two where Oscar hadn’t been too sure of their future. Things were okay between them now.r32;
Well maybe not okay. But better.
“Good. We can go right from work if you aren’t busy tonight. I can drive...”
“We’ll meet you there,” Oscar said quickly.
Yeah. He wasn’t going to be a passenger of Toby’s any time soon.
Oscar called Gil that afternoon. Told them they were going to the bar and Toby was buying.
“Sure,” Gil said. “What’s the occasion? Did Eeyore get some good news today?”
Well he did pass traffic school.
“Sort of,” Oscar said not wanting to go into any more detail.
There was some part of Oscar that wanted to tell Gil not to call Toby Eeyore anymore, but he and Gil were really trying and back to being so careful around each other. Careful not to complain or argue or say anything about anything that could lead to anything so Oscar decided to hold his tongue and just let it go.
--
Oscar was okay when the Finer Things Club eventually ended. He didn’t mind emailing or going to the reception desk to ask Pam about a movie or going to the annex to discuss books.
In fact there was a small part of him that preferred things this way. Toby was less awkward, less jumpy when Pam wasn’t around. He wasn’t stammering or fidgeting and was actually kind of relaxed and funny.
When Pam wasn’t around, it was easier for Oscar to think of Toby as a friend, rather than as that poor guy at work he just kind of felt sorry for.
--
“Oscar!” Michael said to him one day. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Oscar regarded him with unease. “What can I do for you?”
Michael perched himself, half-sitting, on Oscar’s desk. “You’re my friend, Oscar. My gay friend. And I look out for you all the time.”
“Yes,” Oscar said. “And I’m very appreciative of that.”
Sarcasm was pretty much wasted on Michael. “I know. I’m very worried about you. And your choice of amigos.”
Oscar could feel the beginning of a migraine hit him. “I don’t follow.”
“Well. This area here,” Michael looked around at the accounting desks, “is your casa. And down in that area,” he said, gesturing toward the annex, “is the barrio.”
“The barrio?” Oscar repeated.
Was Michael serious?
“Yes. And there are bad people in the barrio. Horrible evil people.”
“Of course.”
“And this evil man...how do you say man in Spanish?”
“Hombre,” Dwight called out.
“Yes!” Michael said. “Wait. No! Dammit Dwight! I don’t mean a gay guy. I mean like a regular guy. No not a regular guy, an evil, stupid, ugly man who you should stay away from because he’ll steal your pesos to buy churros and he’ll eat them in front of you and won’t even give you a bite.”
Right. Of course. That made perfect sense.
“Thank you, Michael,” Oscar said. “I do appreciate your concern. And from now on, I’ll be very careful with my pesos when I go down to the barrio.”
“That’s all I ask. But maybe you shouldn’t go to the barrio at all. Because there are plenty of better guys here if you’re needing a new amigo. Like Jim. Or me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Michael nodded and walked back toward his office. Oscar rubbed his forehead.
“Michael knows a lot of Spanish,” Kevin said.
“Yes.”
“Oscar?”
“Yes?”
“I could sure go for a churro right now.”
“I don’t happen to have one on me, Kevin, but I’ll share a package of mini-donuts with you.”
Kevin grinned. “Niiiice.”
--
“So are you getting fired?” Oscar asked.
“Possibly,” Toby said. He typed something before looking at him. Oscar held up a blank index card.
“Oh you mean the ‘You’re Fired if You Can’t Name Three Women for Michael’ thing.”
“Yes. What did you think I meant?”
“Nothing,” Toby said. “I looked through some HR books and I don’t know if there’s anything I can even really call him on. I mean it’s inappropriate, but it’s not like he’s going to listen to me anyway.”
“The funny thing is,” Oscar said. “I do know a woman who’s single. Faith. She’s actually pretty cool.”
“Huh,” Toby said.
And then Oscar had an idea. It couldn’t hurt. And the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. “She’s maybe thirty-five or so. Incredibly smart. And just a really nice woman. Warm. Pretty too. Blonde and a great smile.” Oscar looked at the picture of Sasha on the desk. “And she’s a teacher. So she loves kids.”
“And you want to set her up with Michael?”
“No,” Oscar said. “I want to set her up with you.”
A flash of movement caught Oscar’s eye. Kelly was now staring at both of them over the cubicle.
Toby didn’t say anything, but for a second he lit up and there was something like hope in his expression. But just as quickly, almost as if someone had flicked a switch, it dimmed, replaced with the familiar look of misery.
“Thanks,” Toby said sadly. “But I don’t know if it would be...” He trailed off without finishing his sentence.
Kelly sighed loudly, exasperated, rolling her eyes.
Yeah. Oscar kind of knew how she felt.
--
At Toby’s goodbye party, Oscar shook his hand.
“Good luck in Costa Rica.”
Toby smiled. “Thanks.”
“Keep in touch.”
“Really?” Toby asked and Oscar couldn’t have been the only person here who had said that to him, could he?
“Sure,” Oscar said. “Send me an email. Let me know how you’re doing.”
“Alright,” Toby said. “I’ll do that.”
--
Oscar waited until Angela and Kevin were gone to do his web chat with Toby. It was a little static-y and hard to hear in parts, but Oscar was able to tell him about the office goings-on and Toby told him a little about Costa Rica. He hadn’t been to the beach yet, but was ziplining tomorrow.
When Michael called for him to get weighed with everyone, Oscar told Toby goodbye, but he probably wasn’t loud enough and they were both talking at the same time and it was only when he was being weighed on the giant scale that he wondered if Toby had continued talking after Oscar had left.
As soon as he got back to his desk, Oscar typed out a quick email to Toby, apologizing in case he wasn’t clear in saying goodbye when he left. Oscar concluded the email with some new book recommendations and told Toby to let him know how ziplining was.
A week went by without hearing anything. Then two and Oscar wondered if Toby was just really pissed off at him for the web chat and how it ended. Oscar didn’t think that Toby would be that sensitive or that petty, but the littlest part of him wondered at the possibility.
When another week went by without hearing anything, he called Toby’s cell. It went right to voice mail.
“Hey. It’s Oscar,” he said. “You aren’t still upset about the web chat a few weeks ago, are you? I really did say goodbye. It was just a bad connection. So shoot me an email or give me a call when you have a chance because I want to hear about the beaches. And I want to hear all about ziplining. You’re brave to do that. I don’t think I could. I’d be too worried about falling and breaking my neck.”
Angela was shaking her head at him, tsk tsking about something and gesturing toward some charts with numbers circled in red, so Oscar reluctantly said goodbye and hung up the phone.
The end
Steph is the author of 37 other stories.
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