officegirlslashcomment ficathon entries (pam/katy, pam/karen) pg13
title: kissed you on the cheek and gave you flowers out of season
fandom: the office
character(s)/pairing(s): pam/katy
rating: pg13
word count: 313
spoilers: none.
author's note: written for the officegirlslashcomment ficathon. prompt was purple. title from all-time quarterback's "sock hop"
summary: pam and katy revert back to high school antics.
Katy’s the type of girl guys dream about. The kind that people throw pebbles against windows for, climb trees and stumble through window frames to get to. The kind you’d ask to sock hops or give a carnation to or meet her imposing daddy for. In short: Katy’s everything Pam always wanted to be in high school. Behind her arty, plastic frames and paint-stained jeans, she just wanted to be liked.
Which is why the situation they’re currently in is particularly ironic.
“Just move… a little to the left… put your leg…” Pam grasps Katy’s ankle to help her maneuver her thigh over Pam’s hip, but in the process of trying to get leverage knocks her head against the door handle. “Ouch.”
“You okay?” Katy questions breathlessly, running her purple-painted fingers through Pam’s wild hair.
“Fine. I’m just-“ She scoots back and up, so that her back is resting against the car door and Katy’s in her lap. Her hands run rivers up Katy’s jean-clad thighs, her thumb-nails catching against the inseams of the fabric. “Maybe we should go somewhere else. I feel like a horny teenager afraid to get caught by Mom making out at home.”
“But this is fun!” Katy whines with a persuasive lilt.
Pam can just make out the scarred skyline pocked by stars through the front windshield, the blanket they were using to keep warm abandoned in the front seat when Katy declared they could make their own heat. An owl hoots academically and the autumn leaves shift, restless.
“Come on,” Katy husks in her ear, “Don’t you want to see how far you can get with the captain of the cheerleading squad.”
And Pam giggles because they gave out prizes for that kind of crap in high school too. Just slip her a letterman’s jacket and call her quarterback.
So just for the record: all the way.
title: never so much blood pulled through my veins
fandom: the office
character(s)/pairing(s): pam/karen
rating: pg13
word count: 357
spoilers: none. set s3.
author's note: written for the officegirlslashcomment ficathon. prompt was horror movie. title from ludo's "horror of our love"
summary: pam and karen sit in the back row on a movie monday.
It’s movie Monday again. And it isn't the same as last week and the week before. Even though Michael still makes her pop five bags of popcorn that no one ever eats. And though everyone in the office has a cautious slump to their shoulders as they lug themselves into the conference room, caught between being annoyed by their boss’ forced fun and giddiness at getting a break from their droll work day. (It’s a tie.)
Because this time Karen’s sitting next to her in the staccato dark and she’s suddenly hyper-aware of the placement of her arm. How often Karen shifts in her seat. Every time her breath hitches at something surprising in the film. Pam’s so distracted that she doesn’t even notice what they’re watching until someone gets their throat slit and the cough syrup blood runs down the screen.
“Oh, eww.” She groans under her breath, closing her eyes tight and trying to dispel the image, giving her head a little shake. Someone screams, piercing and panicked, through the crappy television speakers, and something grabs a hold on her arm in a vice grip. Her head whips to the side, and there’s Karen holding on for dear life, face as white as, well… an Italian sheet.
Pam settles a comforting arm around Karen’s shoulders, and if she were a teenaged boy she’d probably be thinking how this is the perfect opportunity to “accidentally” feel her up. She’s actually not really sure if that’s not what she’s thinking, despite her age and gender. If opportunity knocks…
She knew there was a reason they chose to sit in the back row.
But she’s more focused on the way Karen’s heavy breathing evens out at their contact of skin-on-fabric-on-fabric-on-skin, and how she nestles further into the crook of her arm. How the whole top half of her body is bridging armrests to lay her head on Pam, and how she doesn’t really mind being used as a pillow because she’s pretty sure the tightness in her chest has nothing to do with Karen’s weight.
Another would-be-heroine bites the dust on screen as Pam lets out a contented sigh.
Everyone else's entries to the ficathon can be found here. Make sure to read and give all the wonderful authors who participated some love!
fandom: the office
character(s)/pairing(s): pam/katy
rating: pg13
word count: 313
spoilers: none.
author's note: written for the officegirlslashcomment ficathon. prompt was purple. title from all-time quarterback's "sock hop"
summary: pam and katy revert back to high school antics.
Katy’s the type of girl guys dream about. The kind that people throw pebbles against windows for, climb trees and stumble through window frames to get to. The kind you’d ask to sock hops or give a carnation to or meet her imposing daddy for. In short: Katy’s everything Pam always wanted to be in high school. Behind her arty, plastic frames and paint-stained jeans, she just wanted to be liked.
Which is why the situation they’re currently in is particularly ironic.
“Just move… a little to the left… put your leg…” Pam grasps Katy’s ankle to help her maneuver her thigh over Pam’s hip, but in the process of trying to get leverage knocks her head against the door handle. “Ouch.”
“You okay?” Katy questions breathlessly, running her purple-painted fingers through Pam’s wild hair.
“Fine. I’m just-“ She scoots back and up, so that her back is resting against the car door and Katy’s in her lap. Her hands run rivers up Katy’s jean-clad thighs, her thumb-nails catching against the inseams of the fabric. “Maybe we should go somewhere else. I feel like a horny teenager afraid to get caught by Mom making out at home.”
“But this is fun!” Katy whines with a persuasive lilt.
Pam can just make out the scarred skyline pocked by stars through the front windshield, the blanket they were using to keep warm abandoned in the front seat when Katy declared they could make their own heat. An owl hoots academically and the autumn leaves shift, restless.
“Come on,” Katy husks in her ear, “Don’t you want to see how far you can get with the captain of the cheerleading squad.”
And Pam giggles because they gave out prizes for that kind of crap in high school too. Just slip her a letterman’s jacket and call her quarterback.
So just for the record: all the way.
title: never so much blood pulled through my veins
fandom: the office
character(s)/pairing(s): pam/karen
rating: pg13
word count: 357
spoilers: none. set s3.
author's note: written for the officegirlslashcomment ficathon. prompt was horror movie. title from ludo's "horror of our love"
summary: pam and karen sit in the back row on a movie monday.
It’s movie Monday again. And it isn't the same as last week and the week before. Even though Michael still makes her pop five bags of popcorn that no one ever eats. And though everyone in the office has a cautious slump to their shoulders as they lug themselves into the conference room, caught between being annoyed by their boss’ forced fun and giddiness at getting a break from their droll work day. (It’s a tie.)
Because this time Karen’s sitting next to her in the staccato dark and she’s suddenly hyper-aware of the placement of her arm. How often Karen shifts in her seat. Every time her breath hitches at something surprising in the film. Pam’s so distracted that she doesn’t even notice what they’re watching until someone gets their throat slit and the cough syrup blood runs down the screen.
“Oh, eww.” She groans under her breath, closing her eyes tight and trying to dispel the image, giving her head a little shake. Someone screams, piercing and panicked, through the crappy television speakers, and something grabs a hold on her arm in a vice grip. Her head whips to the side, and there’s Karen holding on for dear life, face as white as, well… an Italian sheet.
Pam settles a comforting arm around Karen’s shoulders, and if she were a teenaged boy she’d probably be thinking how this is the perfect opportunity to “accidentally” feel her up. She’s actually not really sure if that’s not what she’s thinking, despite her age and gender. If opportunity knocks…
She knew there was a reason they chose to sit in the back row.
But she’s more focused on the way Karen’s heavy breathing evens out at their contact of skin-on-fabric-on-fabric-on-skin, and how she nestles further into the crook of her arm. How the whole top half of her body is bridging armrests to lay her head on Pam, and how she doesn’t really mind being used as a pillow because she’s pretty sure the tightness in her chest has nothing to do with Karen’s weight.
Another would-be-heroine bites the dust on screen as Pam lets out a contented sigh.
Everyone else's entries to the ficathon can be found here. Make sure to read and give all the wonderful authors who participated some love!