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TV Shows » Office » Under The Influence font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: Darth Avery
Fiction Rated: T - English - Angst/Hurt/Comfort - Reviews: 4 - Published: 01-31-08 - Updated: 01-31-08 - Complete - id:4045630

Under the Influence

Authors Note - I've decided on impulse to start my Dwam story. After that, I'll probably do my Angela ice cream one next, than Dwim, than the 60's one, cause that's a few chapters, not just a onesie, like the other 3. Dwam needs to be represented more, so I'me going there girlfriend! I own nothing, but if I did you would probably all ask for something.

She was so crushed when he left for Akron. She thought when he said he loved her, he meant it. Pam hung her head onto the bar, and took another gulp of her beer. Normally, Pam wouldn't be involved in drinking copious amounts of alcohol, but tonight was an exception. Jim had to leave work early that day, he told her for an appointment. When she got home, all his stuff was gone and he left a note. He'd said the Akron branch offered him a full time regional manager position, and he had to take it. Things wouldn't work out anyway, and she was too good for him.

They'd fought before, especially recently. Mostly over stupid things. Pam was just so clingy to him. They'd told eachother they were in love, and she thought it would last forever. Whenever she'd talk about getting married, he would cringe a little. Maybe he's afraid of monogamy, she'd tell herself, but he stopped wanting to make love, just to have sex. Her eyes were puffy with tears as she finished her 2nd drink, and asked for another one.

She had been at the bar for a while, downing Coke's, but they wern't making the pain go away, so she switched to booze. She was halfway done when she heard that voice behind her, "Pam?"

Turning around she saw Dwight, standing behind her, in sweatpants and a t-shirt that said "Team Griffindor" on it. Other people were wearing the same uniforms, but they wern't recognized by Pam, especially in her inebriation. "Yeah, what are you doing here Dwight."

He took the empty seat next to her, "My lazer tag team won the district tournement. We're celebrating. Are you okay?" He seems, oddly enough, nice. Pam knew Dwight had a slight liking to her, considering her former position of Secret Assistant to the Regional Manager.

"Not really," She said, wiping her eye, "Jim left. He packed up and moved to Ohio. He got Regional Manager at Akron Branch."

"Wow." Dwight said, a mixture of glee and confusion on his face. "I mean, I'm really sorry about that Pam. I was really sad too when my girlfriend and I broke up, and I know you two were having sexual relations."

Pam nodded a little, "Yeah, and I couldn't see it coming at all. It's Stamford all over again." She hung her head down.

"Pamela, look up." She followed his command, "Now you are a good, decent looking, receptionist. who offers great advice. you'll find a new person, I promise."
Pam let out an odd sigh, this was weird. Is it all an odd dream, Dwight being nice? Encouraging? Complementary? Yeah, she must be tipsy. "Thank you, Dwight." A hiccup escaped her mouth, "I really needed that."

"No problem, Pam. If you need anything, I'll be over there with my Griffindor teammates." With that, Dwight walked to the opposite end of the bar, where his teammates were already toasting to a good season.

Pam sat at the bar, staring into space. She thought about it for a while, Dwight. He was being nice, oddly enough. I wonder if he was this nice when he was with Angela? Maybe, he definatly liked her. Pam just thought about how Dwight was really being the galliant gentleman Angela described to her at the coffee shop that day. A long time ago, that's what that day felt like. She was reconsiling with Roy, Jim was with Karen, Dwight was with Angela, everything was... well, about to go to hell, but nonetheless.

The hours passed, Pam downed a few more drinks and started forgetting about Jim, and started remembering moments with Dwight. Like the time he sat with her in the hallway, the night of inventory. When Michael made us plan that stupid luau party. Jim and Karen had a fight, but reconsiled. Crying in the hallway, Dwight found her and comforted her, not Jim, or Toby, or Michael, or anyone.

Dwight's team had dispersed, an he was getting ready to leave, when Pam walked over to Dwight. "Hey, Dwight?" She said, looking at him. "I really wanna thank you for being so nice. You're such a nice person, I'm glad Jim's gone, maybe we can be friends." Pam's words slurred and she wobbled a little.
"Wow, Pam, I think you're drunk." Dwight said, getting up and holding her steady. She grabbed him and pulled him into a hug. Her face was stuffed into his chest, he smelled of sweat, beets, and Downy fabric softener. "Should I drive you home?"
"Yesh, you shoulds." Pam said, her nose inhaling his oders and her eyes shutting, "That would be nice, I love you."
"Yes, now we should go." Dwight helped her outside, put her in the side seat of his car, and drove to her house. He took her liscense, and got the address, her word could not be trusted.

After about 20 minutes of driving, Dwight pulled up to a small apartment complex. Seeing it his duty, he helped Pam out of the seat, and walked her to her door. Putting the key in, he walked her inside, where he flipped on the lights. She wasn't kidding when she said Jim left. There were dustless spots where electronics once laid, clutter on the floors. It looked quite depressing really, it didn't help that Pam had her arms wrapped around his neck and just would not let go.

"Pam, we're at your house now. I need to leave." Dwight tried to untangle her fingers from behind his neck, but couldn't.

"No, no, no." Pam resisted, looking up at him. "I don't want you to go, I'm lonely." She sounded like a child, a child under the influence of alcohol and heartbreak. Dwight was practically blindsided when Pam started kissing him. She pushed her lips against his and tried to force her way into his mouth. He couldn't speak, much less kiss back. She probably wouldn't remember this in the morning, and he would want to forget that forever.

Slowly pulling away, Dwight's mouth fell to a gape. "Pam...I...uh." Dwight began to say when she put a hand over his mouth.

"Sush, you." She said, A groggy look in her eyes, her lipstick smeared, "We both need this, badly."

Dwight moved her hand from his mouth. He let out a sigh, and gave in. Pulling his arm, Pam fell backward onto her couch. She looked almost silly, drunk as a skunk, backward on a couch, her hair frizzy as all hell, and one shoe fallen off her foot. He walked over to the couch and sat quickly.

"You know I don't want to do this." Dwight said quickly, "But I'm going to stay with you to make sure you don't die or throw up to much, or kill yourself because of Jim." Pam just put her hands on her blouse, and sloppilly began unbuttoning.
"You're such a liar. I know you want and need this." She tossed the blouse over the edge of the couch. Her bra was white and lacy, and Dwight tried not to look. But next thing he knew she was on top of him, tugging at his shirt, her tongue forced into his mouth. There was no getting her away...

--

Pam woke up the next morning in her own bed. She was wrapped in the white sheets, her hair was frizzy yet oily, and she was cold. Her head was pounding, and she tossed her hand to the side to reach for the comfortors when she felt him. She remembered Jim beng gone, scared, she slowly peered over to see Dwight lying there. Pudgy and sort of adorable, like a puppy, sleeping soundly next to her. She turned to face the ceiling, releasing an exhale, she said, out loud. "Oh dear God, what did I do?"

--

Work on Monday was weird. Pam of coarse, showed up first, more reserved than usual. She didn't wear color, not even washed out pastel. Her hair seemed dull and lifeless, and she was a bit jittery. She sat at her computer and worked, when she first saw the door open, it was Dwight. He immeaditly walked to her desk.

"Dwight" she said, but her inturrupted her.

"Pam, I know. I feel the exact same way as you. Never speak of this again." He extended a hand, "Agreed?"
She shook, "Agreed Mr. Schrute." She got back to work, and Dwight walked to his desk.

Neither noticed the two, peering eyes over the wall seperating reception and accounting. "Whore." She quietly muttered, shooting her gaze back to Dwight, than back to work.



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