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The next morning, Pam checked her phone when she got up and frowned that there was no letter icon in the corner. She was kind of worried about Jim, but at the same time didn't want to think about why he wasn't responding to her messages. She bit her lip as she padded into the kitchen and made herself some tea and toast. As she flipped through a magazine, she rehashed the events of the night before. She had been hesitant to go because she wasn't really friends with anyone in the office. Kelly was okay in small doses, but Pam knew Kelly would be busy with her family and the celebration. In the past, if Roy hadn't wanted to attend an office event, she could count on Jim being there. Last night had been better than she expected, though. Well, parts of it. She had surprised herself by dancing and enjoying a lot of the food. It would have been nice to have Jim to talk to, though.

He had started the whole texting thing, anyway. He sent her a message whenever something funny happened at work, but since she didn't know anyone in Stamford, she ended up sending him about twice as many messages about Dwight and Michael.

She was up sort of early and didn't expect Jim to call in the morning anyway, so she busied herself around the apartment. She drew a few sketches of the decorations and dancing from the night before. Everything had been so beautiful and bright. She took a load of laundry downstairs and when she came back up, her phone was ringing. She cursed the lock for sticking and once she got the door open, practically flew across the room.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hey. I thought you weren't going to answer."

"No, I was doing laundry."

"Thrilling."

"Yeah, you know me and my fancy new apartment."

"Rub it in, Beesly. I have to take my laundry to the laundromat. Sorry I didn't respond to your message last night. I--" He chuckled.

"What?" Now she was smiling.

"Well, let me start at the beginning. Wait! Did Carol say yes?"

"Oh, no." Pam had to stifle her giggle. "I shouldn't laugh, it's awful, but Michael asked her in front of everyone and she wouldn't answer, she kept saying she wanted to talk to him in private. She left the party early--"

"Ouch."

"I know." A pause. "You're not getting out of your story, Halpert."

"Fair enough." He sighed. "We had to stay late last night and do order form consolidation. It's sort of a big deal, because Josh lets us use his corporate card to buy dinner--"

"Wow, fancy."

"And well, Andy is still nineteen and he brought Jagermeister."

"Oh, no…"

"Oh, I did. It was bad."

"Like Dundies bad?" She teased.

"Quiet, drunky."

She laughed. "At least tell me you didn't drive home."

"Oh, that's the best part. I'd ridden my bike to work." She dissolved into giggles at the mental image of Jim trying to ride his bike while drunk. "I guess Karen got me home. She seemed pretty sober." Jim had mentioned Karen before and even though Pam's stomach tightened when she heard the name, she decided if Jim was talking about her so casually, it wasn't something she should read into.

"Seemed sober? You're a mess, Halpert." She lowered her voice. "But I'm glad you got home okay. At least someone in that office has half a brain."

"Wow, that's a low blow, Beesly."

"Well, I feel boring. No drinking games here."

"I bet we could come up with a good one."

She grinned. "A shot every time Michael alludes to his night with Jan."

"Every time Dwight insists he's assistant regional manager."

"Every time Michael says something offensive—oh, wait." Pam giggled and Jim laughed.

"So how was Diwali?" She had sent him an email the day before explaining the celebration, and he had responded, saying it sounded more interesting than working late.

"It was actually fun. Well, mostly. You know how Dunder Mifflin outings turn out."

"Spill, Beesly. What happened?"

"No, nothing happened. I just meant, you know, the general hijinxs of working with Michael—" She was blushing.

"Come on. It's me."

"Okay, okay. After the whole Carol thing, I found Michael outside and he was talking about how much he liked her and well, then he tried to, um, kiss me." She didn't hear anything for a minute and she wasn't sure, but she thought Jim might have dropped the phone.

"What!?"

"He didn't—I mean, he wasn't even close, he was just sort of leaning toward me and--"

"Oh my God, what did you say?"

"I asked him what he was doing and he asked what I was doing and I said, rejecting your kiss."

Jim laughed. "Oh Pam, wow, that's horrifying. I'm so sorry."

"I really don't want to talk about it ever again," she replied, but she was laughing.

"But you said you had fun?"

"Yeah, it wasn't too bad. They had a lot of food and dancing."

"Did you wear a sari?"

"No, just a sweater and jeans. I felt a little out of place." She took a deep breath. "I wish you could have been there."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It would have been nice, I don't know, to have someone to talk to."

"And to keep Michael away from you," he teased, his voice low.

"And that," she agreed. She wanted to ask him if he missed her or if he ever thought about coming back to Scranton.

"Well, you know, there are things that people have, I think they're called cars, and if someone they miss is far away, they use them so they can come see them."

She smiled, thinking about how much he would tease her when he found out she had a new car. "Oh really?"

"Yep. I'm only a couple hours away, Beesly."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Three states, I counted."

"Stamford's nice. I think you would like it."

"Well, maybe I will."

"You should. Think about it."

"Okay," she nodded. "What are you doing next weekend?" He laughed.    



mixedberries is the author of 13 other stories.
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