[jim/pam] the bowerbird brings you this
It's official. Deadlines and I don't get on. At all. That is the only explanation I can offer for why this is over a month late.
Forgive me?
Title: the bowerbird brings you this
Fandom: the office
Characters: jim, pam, karen, dwight
Word Count: 2,010
Rating: r
Spoilers: nothing direct. set sometime before 3.18 cocktails
Summary: Jim watches her, and tries to think of something funny to say. But all that’s on his tongue are confessions and past mistakes and the sinking feeling of not again.
For we_take_five. Finally. Prompt below cut.
the bowerbird brings you this
9:07 am
He’ll forget later who approached whom.
All that matters is that her mouth curves into a smile as she nods and says, “let’s do it.”
10:00 am
When Dwight returns from his first bathroom break of the morning, he immediately notices that his desk seems emptier than before. He stands still, his brows furrowing as he assesses it from corner to corner. Then, he spots the ransom note.
“Place twenty dollars by the vending machine by four pm today, or the bobble head gets it!”
The writing is bold and dark and in thick lettering. He clutches the paper in his hand, crumpling it in his fist.
“Something wrong, Dwight?”
He focuses his gaze on Jim, who looks up at him innocently from his desk.
He frowns. “My bobble head has been kidnapped.”
Jim gasps, his eyebrows raised. “No!”
“Yes. And the kidnapper is trying to intimidate me into paying a ransom.”
“Really?” Jim leans his elbow on the desk and cradles his head in his hand.
Dwight tears his gaze away from Jim, and narrows his eyes as he scans the office. He bends down, leans a little towards Jim and whispers, “What they don’t know is that no one can intimidate a Schrute.”
Jim nods and tries his hardest to look concerned, but he can hear Pam struggling to control a giggle behind him and he can’t help it when the corner of his mouth twitches just a little. (he has to cough when a chuckle gets stuck at the back of his throat).
11:17 am
Jim walks past Karen’s desk as he exits from the break room, and she turns around and grabs him by his sleeve.
“Give Dwight back his bobble head, Halpert.”
He shrugs his shoulders as he looks at her, squeezing the can of soda in his hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She smirks, nodding her head in Dwight’s direction. “I was just interrogated. Regarding my involvement in the abduction of his desk toy.” She sucks in a breath, pausing for emphasis. “It was intense, and actually quite traumatic. I really don’t want to have to go through it again.”
Jim laughs (he enjoys it, he likes that Karen can make him laugh) but then she tugs on his sleeve a little harder.
“I’m serious Jim. Give it back so we won’t have to deal with him like this for the rest of the day.”
He looks at her, and she is serious. So here, he thinks that maybe he should just give the bobble head back to Dwight. He glances over to Pam. She doesn’t notice his gaze - she’s working, typing something on the computer - but she has that small, secret smile on her lips that she gets sometimes and Jim thinks that it’s been too long since he last saw her smile like that.
He looks back at Karen. “And I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” His smile fades and he continues to walk, pulling his arm from her grasp.
12:51 pm
Pam meets him in the break room.
“Please tell me you know what he’s doing out there,” she says behind her hand, trying not to smile.
Jim leans further back against the counter, his arms folded across his chest. He looks out to the office, where Dwight sits at his desk with a brush and powder and a magnifying glass.
“It’s quite obvious, Pam.” He pauses for emphasis, his lips quirking into a half smile. “He’s dusting for fingerprints.”
Her nose wrinkles as she laughs, and he can’t help but watch her. (her cheeks turn a deep, dusty pink and her eyes shine and he tries not to think about the sudden stir in his pants.)
She tries to hide her laughter behind her hand. “And the powder he’s using to dust for these fingerprints?”
Now, Jim begins to laugh. She’s giggling hard, and the sound is infectious. He’s smiling so much his cheeks hurt. “I think he stole Phyllis’ make-up kit.”
Pam laughs so hard she snorts, and almost falls over. She grabs onto Jim’s arm to keep from losing her balance, and immediately he tenses, the warmth from her hand seeping into his skin. It’s been a long time, a very long time, and the simple brush of her fingertips against his skin makes him burn.
She doesn’t notice though. She keeps laughing. And she brings him back to earth when she straightens up, calms down and looks at him with bright eyes.
“So do you think he’ll do it?”
He’s lost. “Um. Who’ll do what?”
She smiles tightly, not wanting to give in to the laughter that threatens to burst once again. “Do you think Dwight will pay the ransom?”
Jim watches her, and tries to think of something funny to say. But all that’s on his tongue are confessions and past mistakes and the sinking feeling of not again.
2:20 pm
He tries to act as though he doesn’t notice.
But the truth is, he knows that Pam is trying (and trying not to look as though she’s trying) to catch his eye. He knows that she’s sitting there, at her desk, with a puzzled arch in her eyebrows, as she tries to figure out why he walked away from her so abruptly. He knows she’s trying to understand why he’s not talking to her now.
He sits at his desk, typing meaningless figures into his computer and scribbling insignificant details across his notepad. He can feel her eyes at the back of his neck and he wishes he had an escape from this.
He doesn’t want to do this; he doesn’t want to close himself off from her. But he doesn’t know what else to do.
He can’t get hurt again.
(this is what he tells himself, over and over and over in his head, as he hears her sigh behind him, as he pictures oh-so-clearly how the shine fades from her eyes).
3:45 pm
Michael has called a meeting in the conference room. Jim hates these meetings, because he finds that now, he has to literally watch where he sits. Who he sits next to.
It’s almost child-like; reminiscent of the playground and how he used to pull the pig tails of the girls he liked because he couldn’t let his friends know that he liked her.
He thinks he’s safe, for the moment. He’s sandwiched between Phyllis and Ryan, who look on to Michael with a mixture of amusement and exhaustion written on their features. Karen sits across from him, on the other side of the table. And Pam? He supposes she’s at the back of the room, with her chair pushed right up against the wall and her arms folded in front of her.
He doesn’t know for sure, though. He made a point not to look for her as he walked into the room.
Michael drones on, and Jim isn’t sure that he’s heard anything that he’s said so far. Something about customer satisfaction and needing the best looking sales staff members to go out on calls together. He thinks there was an insult directed to Toby somewhere along the line there too, but he can’t be sure.
Then Michael announces the news, officially, about Dwight’s bobble head being missing. He rubs his forehead and demands that whoever has it should give it back to Dwight. Dwight whispers beside Michael about the charges against the perpetrator being dropped down a level if they turn themselves in. Michael insists in front of everyone that there will be no punishment.
Jim almost gets up from his chair to retrieve the bobble head from it’s hiding place and give it back to Dwight.
But he hears Pam shuffling her heels against the carpet somewhere towards the back of the room, and he decides that he’ll keep the toy hidden, just for a little while longer.
5:01 pm
She has her pink coat on, and is concentrating on wrapping her scarf around her neck when he passes by the reception desk on his way out.
He casts a glance her way, for just a brief second, and she looks up and catches his eye and there’s something there, written in the corner of her lips that makes him fall.
He breathes. “Look, Pam --”
But she shifts her bag across her shoulder, and reaches into her pocket before he can say any more. She holds her hand out, (and it might be trembling, a little) and it takes him a few beats to realise that she’s trying to give him something.
He reaches for her hand and feels the quiet crumple of bills slipping into his hand. Their fingers brush and he feels his lungs drop out of chest but she pulls away quickly and looks down at the floor as she speaks.
“He left it by the vending machine.”
Jim thinks that maybe she’s going to say something more; about how they should give the bobble head back, whether they string him along for a few more days and see how long it takes for him to break. But she simply gathers her coat tighter over her chest and moves past him, through the doors.
He stands there, in front of the reception desk, his fingers folding over the bills in his hand. They’re slightly warm in his palm and he’s transfixed for a moment with how this day has played out. (and the look on her face, oh god, how she looked at him).
Digging into his pocket, he pulls out his cell phone and dials.
“Filipelli, hey. Listen, I’m gonna have to cancel dinner.”
When he gets into his car, his heart is hard and fast and he feels as though he might throw up. So he drives, before he has a chance to think about what the hell he’s doing.
5:32 pm
She opens the door and he knows that she hasn’t been home for long.
She’s still wearing the blouse and skirt that she wore to work. But he notices that she’s barefoot and her hair falls loose around her shoulders and that she’s not wearing any stockings. The creamy paleness of her skin catches his eye and he has to work to meet her gaze.
“Jim,” she stutters, a hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears. “What are you... why are you here?”
He knew she would ask him this. And so he rehearsed his answers in the car on the way over. He rehearsed one and then a second and then a combination of a few different answers. He has words and explanations and valid, valid reasons on the tip of his tongue.
So he’s not sure why it is that he kisses her.
Her lips are smooth and pliant and just how he remembers and he can’t help but think that he’s dreaming. The feel of her in his arms, the taste of her on his lips -- it’s all too painful and familiar and it has to be a dream.
But then there’s sound, from the back of her throat, his name in a whimper, and suddenly this isn’t a dream.
6:47 pm
It’s torturous.
They’re twisted in sheets, sweaty and breathing heavily and oh holy fuck he thinks that he might just die now.
He’s braced above her, hovering, and she looks up at him with her bottom lip between her teeth. She’s nervous, he knows. He is too.
“Pam,” he breathes and she nods, her fingers curling into his arm.
When his cock slides into her, he buries his head against her neck, breathing her in.
10:08 pm
In the dark of her bedroom, with her head heavy on his chest and her legs wound around his, Jim realises that he can’t remember where they hid Dwight’s bobble head.
He decides he’ll give him his twenty dollars back.
Forgive me?
Title: the bowerbird brings you this
Fandom: the office
Characters: jim, pam, karen, dwight
Word Count: 2,010
Rating: r
Spoilers: nothing direct. set sometime before 3.18 cocktails
Summary: Jim watches her, and tries to think of something funny to say. But all that’s on his tongue are confessions and past mistakes and the sinking feeling of not again.
For we_take_five. Finally. Prompt below cut.
the bowerbird brings you this
9:07 am
He’ll forget later who approached whom.
All that matters is that her mouth curves into a smile as she nods and says, “let’s do it.”
10:00 am
When Dwight returns from his first bathroom break of the morning, he immediately notices that his desk seems emptier than before. He stands still, his brows furrowing as he assesses it from corner to corner. Then, he spots the ransom note.
“Place twenty dollars by the vending machine by four pm today, or the bobble head gets it!”
The writing is bold and dark and in thick lettering. He clutches the paper in his hand, crumpling it in his fist.
“Something wrong, Dwight?”
He focuses his gaze on Jim, who looks up at him innocently from his desk.
He frowns. “My bobble head has been kidnapped.”
Jim gasps, his eyebrows raised. “No!”
“Yes. And the kidnapper is trying to intimidate me into paying a ransom.”
“Really?” Jim leans his elbow on the desk and cradles his head in his hand.
Dwight tears his gaze away from Jim, and narrows his eyes as he scans the office. He bends down, leans a little towards Jim and whispers, “What they don’t know is that no one can intimidate a Schrute.”
Jim nods and tries his hardest to look concerned, but he can hear Pam struggling to control a giggle behind him and he can’t help it when the corner of his mouth twitches just a little. (he has to cough when a chuckle gets stuck at the back of his throat).
11:17 am
Jim walks past Karen’s desk as he exits from the break room, and she turns around and grabs him by his sleeve.
“Give Dwight back his bobble head, Halpert.”
He shrugs his shoulders as he looks at her, squeezing the can of soda in his hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She smirks, nodding her head in Dwight’s direction. “I was just interrogated. Regarding my involvement in the abduction of his desk toy.” She sucks in a breath, pausing for emphasis. “It was intense, and actually quite traumatic. I really don’t want to have to go through it again.”
Jim laughs (he enjoys it, he likes that Karen can make him laugh) but then she tugs on his sleeve a little harder.
“I’m serious Jim. Give it back so we won’t have to deal with him like this for the rest of the day.”
He looks at her, and she is serious. So here, he thinks that maybe he should just give the bobble head back to Dwight. He glances over to Pam. She doesn’t notice his gaze - she’s working, typing something on the computer - but she has that small, secret smile on her lips that she gets sometimes and Jim thinks that it’s been too long since he last saw her smile like that.
He looks back at Karen. “And I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” His smile fades and he continues to walk, pulling his arm from her grasp.
12:51 pm
Pam meets him in the break room.
“Please tell me you know what he’s doing out there,” she says behind her hand, trying not to smile.
Jim leans further back against the counter, his arms folded across his chest. He looks out to the office, where Dwight sits at his desk with a brush and powder and a magnifying glass.
“It’s quite obvious, Pam.” He pauses for emphasis, his lips quirking into a half smile. “He’s dusting for fingerprints.”
Her nose wrinkles as she laughs, and he can’t help but watch her. (her cheeks turn a deep, dusty pink and her eyes shine and he tries not to think about the sudden stir in his pants.)
She tries to hide her laughter behind her hand. “And the powder he’s using to dust for these fingerprints?”
Now, Jim begins to laugh. She’s giggling hard, and the sound is infectious. He’s smiling so much his cheeks hurt. “I think he stole Phyllis’ make-up kit.”
Pam laughs so hard she snorts, and almost falls over. She grabs onto Jim’s arm to keep from losing her balance, and immediately he tenses, the warmth from her hand seeping into his skin. It’s been a long time, a very long time, and the simple brush of her fingertips against his skin makes him burn.
She doesn’t notice though. She keeps laughing. And she brings him back to earth when she straightens up, calms down and looks at him with bright eyes.
“So do you think he’ll do it?”
He’s lost. “Um. Who’ll do what?”
She smiles tightly, not wanting to give in to the laughter that threatens to burst once again. “Do you think Dwight will pay the ransom?”
Jim watches her, and tries to think of something funny to say. But all that’s on his tongue are confessions and past mistakes and the sinking feeling of not again.
2:20 pm
He tries to act as though he doesn’t notice.
But the truth is, he knows that Pam is trying (and trying not to look as though she’s trying) to catch his eye. He knows that she’s sitting there, at her desk, with a puzzled arch in her eyebrows, as she tries to figure out why he walked away from her so abruptly. He knows she’s trying to understand why he’s not talking to her now.
He sits at his desk, typing meaningless figures into his computer and scribbling insignificant details across his notepad. He can feel her eyes at the back of his neck and he wishes he had an escape from this.
He doesn’t want to do this; he doesn’t want to close himself off from her. But he doesn’t know what else to do.
He can’t get hurt again.
(this is what he tells himself, over and over and over in his head, as he hears her sigh behind him, as he pictures oh-so-clearly how the shine fades from her eyes).
3:45 pm
Michael has called a meeting in the conference room. Jim hates these meetings, because he finds that now, he has to literally watch where he sits. Who he sits next to.
It’s almost child-like; reminiscent of the playground and how he used to pull the pig tails of the girls he liked because he couldn’t let his friends know that he liked her.
He thinks he’s safe, for the moment. He’s sandwiched between Phyllis and Ryan, who look on to Michael with a mixture of amusement and exhaustion written on their features. Karen sits across from him, on the other side of the table. And Pam? He supposes she’s at the back of the room, with her chair pushed right up against the wall and her arms folded in front of her.
He doesn’t know for sure, though. He made a point not to look for her as he walked into the room.
Michael drones on, and Jim isn’t sure that he’s heard anything that he’s said so far. Something about customer satisfaction and needing the best looking sales staff members to go out on calls together. He thinks there was an insult directed to Toby somewhere along the line there too, but he can’t be sure.
Then Michael announces the news, officially, about Dwight’s bobble head being missing. He rubs his forehead and demands that whoever has it should give it back to Dwight. Dwight whispers beside Michael about the charges against the perpetrator being dropped down a level if they turn themselves in. Michael insists in front of everyone that there will be no punishment.
Jim almost gets up from his chair to retrieve the bobble head from it’s hiding place and give it back to Dwight.
But he hears Pam shuffling her heels against the carpet somewhere towards the back of the room, and he decides that he’ll keep the toy hidden, just for a little while longer.
5:01 pm
She has her pink coat on, and is concentrating on wrapping her scarf around her neck when he passes by the reception desk on his way out.
He casts a glance her way, for just a brief second, and she looks up and catches his eye and there’s something there, written in the corner of her lips that makes him fall.
He breathes. “Look, Pam --”
But she shifts her bag across her shoulder, and reaches into her pocket before he can say any more. She holds her hand out, (and it might be trembling, a little) and it takes him a few beats to realise that she’s trying to give him something.
He reaches for her hand and feels the quiet crumple of bills slipping into his hand. Their fingers brush and he feels his lungs drop out of chest but she pulls away quickly and looks down at the floor as she speaks.
“He left it by the vending machine.”
Jim thinks that maybe she’s going to say something more; about how they should give the bobble head back, whether they string him along for a few more days and see how long it takes for him to break. But she simply gathers her coat tighter over her chest and moves past him, through the doors.
He stands there, in front of the reception desk, his fingers folding over the bills in his hand. They’re slightly warm in his palm and he’s transfixed for a moment with how this day has played out. (and the look on her face, oh god, how she looked at him).
Digging into his pocket, he pulls out his cell phone and dials.
“Filipelli, hey. Listen, I’m gonna have to cancel dinner.”
When he gets into his car, his heart is hard and fast and he feels as though he might throw up. So he drives, before he has a chance to think about what the hell he’s doing.
5:32 pm
She opens the door and he knows that she hasn’t been home for long.
She’s still wearing the blouse and skirt that she wore to work. But he notices that she’s barefoot and her hair falls loose around her shoulders and that she’s not wearing any stockings. The creamy paleness of her skin catches his eye and he has to work to meet her gaze.
“Jim,” she stutters, a hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears. “What are you... why are you here?”
He knew she would ask him this. And so he rehearsed his answers in the car on the way over. He rehearsed one and then a second and then a combination of a few different answers. He has words and explanations and valid, valid reasons on the tip of his tongue.
So he’s not sure why it is that he kisses her.
Her lips are smooth and pliant and just how he remembers and he can’t help but think that he’s dreaming. The feel of her in his arms, the taste of her on his lips -- it’s all too painful and familiar and it has to be a dream.
But then there’s sound, from the back of her throat, his name in a whimper, and suddenly this isn’t a dream.
6:47 pm
It’s torturous.
They’re twisted in sheets, sweaty and breathing heavily and oh holy fuck he thinks that he might just die now.
He’s braced above her, hovering, and she looks up at him with her bottom lip between her teeth. She’s nervous, he knows. He is too.
“Pam,” he breathes and she nods, her fingers curling into his arm.
When his cock slides into her, he buries his head against her neck, breathing her in.
10:08 pm
In the dark of her bedroom, with her head heavy on his chest and her legs wound around his, Jim realises that he can’t remember where they hid Dwight’s bobble head.
He decides he’ll give him his twenty dollars back.