The shuttle doors open and everyone piles out into the crisp autumn air. Kelly and Oscar are giggling about something, Dwight is surveying the farm with an appraising but slightly judgmental look and Stanley is grumbling to himself. He says something about how on earth apple picking relates to selling paper, and Pam is honestly shocked she hadn't thought about that at all. After all of these nonsensical camaraderie events, she must have just stopped thinking critically about them at some point.
Jim sidles up next to her and she doesn't notice until he clears his throat. Pam doesn't even jump. After three years, she's gotten so comfortable around him that it feels almost like her body can just sense him. She doesn't think about it too much.
"You know," he says in his deep voice, "I want to make fun of this? But I just can't. I haven't been apple picking since I was like twelve."
"Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something," she grins up at him and he nudges her with his shoulder. She laughs, and they begin trudging up the hill from the parking lot to the apple orchard.
When they reach the rest of their group, Michael is already giving a speech about picking off the competition and inserting the names of different kinds of apples into his analogy. Pam can't even hear him because Jim is muttering things like "our office is really the honey crisp of mid-sized paper companies," and "we don't even use mackintosh computers!" And when she interjects that a good paper sale is just, "golden. Delicious," with a wicked smile, he looks at her with such obvious delight that everything else Michael has to say is lost until he waves his hand over his head and cries, "Let's go!"
They each have a small brown paper bag with handles to carry their bounty home in and Pam is carrying both of theirs as they walk up the hill into the apple trees with their coworkers, the idea of a bargain that he carry the bags back when they're full to pay her back for this somewhere in the back of her mind. Jim is whistling something cheerful, his eyes sparkling as he surveys their surroundings. It really is a gorgeous day and this place is sort of idyllic with its rows and rows of apple trees, with markers showing the different varieties. "What do you think?" Pam asks, and he looks around a little more, then points. "Mackintosh."
They make their way over to the far side of the orchard, chatting about autumns of their childhoods and baked goods and she doesn't mean to, but she can't stop noticing how completely different Jim looks outside of the office, in the October sunshine, in his well worn jeans and plaid flannel shirt. He rolls his sleeves up absently, revealing his forearms, and she can't help but stare. She stops just short of letting herself think it's sort of sexy. She settles for admitting that he looks really good. No, nice. Nice is a better word.
He turns back to look at her, raises his eyebrows like he's waiting for her to say something.
"Hmm?" She asks, distracted.
He looks amused. "I said, do you see any apples?"
She stares at him, then understands the question and looks into the branches that hang from the tree he's indicating. It looks pretty picked clean. They step forward, into the branches, but there's really nothing. It is pretty late in the season, she guesses. Her eyes drift upward and she points. "There!"
Jim's head tilts to look up into the leaves at the top of the tree. Sure enough, there are clusters of apples overhead. He reaches up, but they're too high even for him. Across the orchard, their coworkers are wandering farther and farther away, complaints about the lack of fruit in the trees and Michael's declarations about apple trees and how they relate to the Dunder Mirflin business model wafting over to them on the autumn breeze.
"Looks like all the other corporate bonding field trips beat us to it," Jim kids, looking over at Pam, who is still looking up into the tree.
"Hey, lift me up."
His eyebrows shoot up. "Um," he manages to laugh. "What?"
"I think I could reach them if you can get me up there," she explains, eyes darting around to assess the best place to try out her theory.
"Um...no," he says, and ducks under a branch to check another tree.
Pam follows him. "Why not?"
"Jesus, there really aren't any apples left anywhere," Jim mutters to himself as he checks the next few trees in the row.
"Jim!" Pam is sort of hopping along behind him, trying to keep up. "Pick me up!"
"I don't think so," Jim says, straining to look into the upper branches of a slightly shorter tree. He reaches his arm up, but again, comes down with nothing.
She wrestles benches aside to stand in front of him. "Why not?" She demands. Jim sighs and finally looks down at her.
"I don't know, Pam. Last time I picked you up, it didn't...go over so well."
The sun shining through the leaves on the tree is making her hair look redder than usual. The leaves, fluttering in the breeze, bring out the green in her eyes. A shadow passes over her face with the memory, but it passes quickly. Her eyes are blazing. She's always been lovely but something about the dappled shade dimming and highlighting her features, this October day, her determination...she's undeniable. "I'm not leaving here without a single apple," she says finally.
Jim considers her for a long moment. Finally, he acquiesces. "Ok, Pam." He takes the two small bags out of from under her arm and tosses them to the ground. He rubs his hands together quickly, preparing. "Ready?"
"Ready," she says.
He moves so quickly, then. In a flash, he's crouched down, gripped her waist with his hands, and lifted her effortlessly into the upper branches. She feels a flutter in her stomach when his strong arms adjust to hold her higher with one arm around her thighs and one around her knees, and when she looks down at him in surprise, his face is serious and vulnerable in a way that makes her heart skip a beat. She swallows and looks up into the leaves, starts plucking fruit from their branches. When she's got as many as she can hold, she looks back down, laughing a bit. "Ok, let me down."
She's prepared for a quick descent to the ground, and braces herself to feel the earth beneath her feet. What she is not prepared for is the slow, careful, almost deliberate way that Jim lets her down. She can feel every part of his body as hers slides down against it, and he pauses when her eyes are level with his and they just stare at each other for a long moment. The smile fades from her face and her eyes grow as serious as his. She has half a mind to let the apples fall to the ground, to throw her arms around his neck and let whatever happens happen, but then he gently places her feet back on the ground.
They're still staring at each other, and she can feel his uncertainty and see the conflicted look in his eyes. He lifts a hand, hesitates, then pushes a strand of hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. She can feel her body being drawn even closer to him and she can hear him take a shaky breath. "Pam, I..." he breathes, letting his words fade out.
"Ok, everybody, pack it up!"
Michael's shout breaks through whatever is between them and they both sort of jump apart. The hand that had lingered in her hair goes back to rub the back of his neck. She scrambles to get the bags from the ground. "Here," he says and takes them from her. She pretends not to notice that his hands are trembling a bit as he opens one and holds it out to her. She drops her apples in and he takes the handles and then holds a branch aside for her to get out into the open. She ducks under his arm and out into the sunshine, and he follows.
They catch up with the rest of the group, and Pam shows off her apples. "She climbed the tree like a monkey," Jim invents, and smiles brightly at her look of open-mouthed objection. Then he jabs a quick hand into the bag, snatches an apple out and takes a giant bite, and even though she acts offended, her heart melts a little at the toothy grin he offers her as thanks.
They sit next to each other on the shuttle ride back to the office and when Michael tries to spin a metaphor out of the receptionist taking it upon herself to get an apple, no matter what the cost, she presses her leg against his. He nudges hers back with his own, and she smiles down at her lap.
It was a good day.
Story Notes:
Probably due to it being 90 million degrees in the northeast this week, I've been parked in front of the air conditioner, watching the office and wishing it was autumn. So, this happened.
This is set in some weird parallel universe where they've already gone on the booze cruise but now it's October and she's still engaged even though June 10th has passed. What I'm saying is, a certain amount of disbelief must be suspended.
This is set in some weird parallel universe where they've already gone on the booze cruise but now it's October and she's still engaged even though June 10th has passed. What I'm saying is, a certain amount of disbelief must be suspended.
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.
watchthesky84 is the author of 10 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 3 members. Members who liked Apple Picking also liked 1168 other stories.
