Ficcage! :D
Title: Garage Sale Week
Rating: PG?
Characters/Pairings: Jim/Pam. :D
Summary: Closet Day is perhaps the singular most daunting day of Garage Sale Week, made so because Pam Beesly never wants to get rid of clothes. It's never been easy for Pam to give things away, but this year she has things to look forward to.
Spoilers/Warnings: Um. Spoilers through the Season 3 Finale.
Notes: Here I am giving myself more in common with the charming Miss. Beesley. I can't give things away either. :P So, I'm not quite cool enough to write two fics in two days (oh I wish). This fic is from a contest that is now judged, so I'm "releasing" it, so to speak. Hope you guys like it! :] It was part of a multi-fandom series about independence.
It's Garage Sale Week. Garage Sale Week is an annual event, and this year, it starts on a Saturday. There is, of course, a schedule for Garage Sale Week (Jim keeps teasing her, asking her about the proper filing system, the right format for submitting an inventory sheet, how to register a complaint, is there a suggestion box), and today, Tuesday, is Closet Day.
Closet Day is perhaps the singular most daunting day of Garage Sale Week, made so because Pam Beesly never wants to get rid of clothes. She wears (yes, she has counted) exactly four of her shirts, three of her pairs of pants, and four of her skirts, and yet she cannot manage to sell all the clothes she does not wear. They have sentimental value, or she might need them someday, or this shirt really brings out her eyes, or wouldn't it be great to see the look on Angela's face if she wore this someday, and somehow her closet always remains full and she simply spends a day agonizing.
Now she rolls up her sleeves and gets to work, plowing through coats, blouses, pants, and skirts, forcing herself to make decisions before she can remember who got her that, or how great she looks in blue.
She halts very, very suddenly when she comes across The Box.
There will be a time, she decides, to ponder the sudden influx of capitals in her life (The Break-Up, and The Coal Walk, and The Boyfriend), but now is not the time, because right now she is being confronted by The Box.
The Box is not like the other boxes. It has a partial list on it, which begins (skirt, black; heels --) and is then scratched out in uncharacteristically sloppy penmanship, and replaced simply by the word "clothes." But she knows which clothes these are. These are the clothes that Kelly bought her, when Jim wasn't there (and he was, she will admit now, the only reason she would have worn them outside the break room).
She simply stands, as those The Box has frozen her there, as though if she touches it she will somehow be transported back to a time when she could not ask for what she wanted, when she had to hedge around things and makes hesitant suggestions, when getting back together with Roy was a pipe dream, not a nightmare.
She reaches out very, very hesitantly and touches the lid of The Box, lets her fingers soak up memories through the cardboard, lessons learned the hard way. She can hear Kelly (fashion show! fashion show!) and she can hear Jim (then it's a date) and she simply puts the entire box in the "Sell" pile without even opening it.
It's easier to let things go after that.
Rating: PG?
Characters/Pairings: Jim/Pam. :D
Summary: Closet Day is perhaps the singular most daunting day of Garage Sale Week, made so because Pam Beesly never wants to get rid of clothes. It's never been easy for Pam to give things away, but this year she has things to look forward to.
Spoilers/Warnings: Um. Spoilers through the Season 3 Finale.
Notes: Here I am giving myself more in common with the charming Miss. Beesley. I can't give things away either. :P So, I'm not quite cool enough to write two fics in two days (oh I wish). This fic is from a contest that is now judged, so I'm "releasing" it, so to speak. Hope you guys like it! :] It was part of a multi-fandom series about independence.
It's Garage Sale Week. Garage Sale Week is an annual event, and this year, it starts on a Saturday. There is, of course, a schedule for Garage Sale Week (Jim keeps teasing her, asking her about the proper filing system, the right format for submitting an inventory sheet, how to register a complaint, is there a suggestion box), and today, Tuesday, is Closet Day.
Closet Day is perhaps the singular most daunting day of Garage Sale Week, made so because Pam Beesly never wants to get rid of clothes. She wears (yes, she has counted) exactly four of her shirts, three of her pairs of pants, and four of her skirts, and yet she cannot manage to sell all the clothes she does not wear. They have sentimental value, or she might need them someday, or this shirt really brings out her eyes, or wouldn't it be great to see the look on Angela's face if she wore this someday, and somehow her closet always remains full and she simply spends a day agonizing.
Now she rolls up her sleeves and gets to work, plowing through coats, blouses, pants, and skirts, forcing herself to make decisions before she can remember who got her that, or how great she looks in blue.
She halts very, very suddenly when she comes across The Box.
There will be a time, she decides, to ponder the sudden influx of capitals in her life (The Break-Up, and The Coal Walk, and The Boyfriend), but now is not the time, because right now she is being confronted by The Box.
The Box is not like the other boxes. It has a partial list on it, which begins (skirt, black; heels --) and is then scratched out in uncharacteristically sloppy penmanship, and replaced simply by the word "clothes." But she knows which clothes these are. These are the clothes that Kelly bought her, when Jim wasn't there (and he was, she will admit now, the only reason she would have worn them outside the break room).
She simply stands, as those The Box has frozen her there, as though if she touches it she will somehow be transported back to a time when she could not ask for what she wanted, when she had to hedge around things and makes hesitant suggestions, when getting back together with Roy was a pipe dream, not a nightmare.
She reaches out very, very hesitantly and touches the lid of The Box, lets her fingers soak up memories through the cardboard, lessons learned the hard way. She can hear Kelly (fashion show! fashion show!) and she can hear Jim (then it's a date) and she simply puts the entire box in the "Sell" pile without even opening it.
It's easier to let things go after that.