Just a brief teaser before I start my most ambitious "Office" story "Twenty-Two Short Fics About Jim Halpert;" I absolutely guarantee this one isn't quite as bad as my last one. Almost, but.
Cookies For The Office
Starring: The Sexual Disaster Quartet
Dwight: Every year, several people have sex.
Dwight: Slightly fewer have ambulance sex.
Dwight got up from his desk and eyed the whole office, one-by-one, with searing anger and suspicion.
He didn't have any specific reason, but he liked to that at least once an hour, just in case anyone thought for one second they could get one over on him.
He was confident none of them did.
He cast his sneering beam of pure boiling hate towards reception and noticed Jim and Pam were staring right at him. When they saw him look their way, they laughed and lowered their heads, as if he hadn't already seen him. Dwight wondered briefly what the two of them were laughing about. They were probably screwing, he decided. He could smell it on them.
He wondered if anyone else in the office was screwing. He knew Jan and Michael had just hooked up at Chili's, but (oddly) neither of them wanted to talk to him about it, no matter how much he brought it up. He thought about each of his coworkers in turn. No one was screwing Meredith or Phyllis, that was for sure. And with Kelly widely respected as being his manifest destiny, that left a decided shortage of females.
Could one of his coworkers be a homo? It was possible, his many letters to Corporate demanding the right questions were asked from the start of the interviewing process had all been ignored or, worse, deemed "Unconstitutional."
As if that meant anything.
But who could the gay be? His first guess was Stanley. He had heard somewhere that birth defects happened in threes and Stanley was already lazy and Black, which were birth defects as far as Dwight was concerned; queer could easily be lucky number three. His partner would have to be Kevin. Michael had assured him that Toby had been impotent since his divorce and Creed was probably too old for sex... he couldn't imagine anyone going for the Temp and since it was widely known that there were no gay Mexicans, Kevin was the only logical choice.
He nodded proudly to himself, wondering if his theories were strong enough to announce to Michael yet. You couldn't run a business with everyone screwing on company time.
Suddenly, Dwight was struck by an uncharacteristic melancholy. He wished he had someone to screw.
Oh, he had had girlfriends. And they had been looking for someone to screw. And they definitely found what they were looking for.
It had just never been him.
Dwight decided the solution to this problem, like many of life's problems before it, was candy, so he made his way to the breakroom.
However, distracted by his thoughts, Dwight swung the kitchen door open more recklessly than usual, and it ended up smacking Angela right in the face.
As she crumpled in pain, Dwight flew into action. He had always hated Angela for her constant attempts to usurp his authority in emergency situations, but when one of his coworkers was injured, Dwight could never hesitate to act.
Unless maybe it was Jim.
"Pam," he ordered, "get an ambulance here, now!"
"Dwight, I think she just needs an ice pack and some Tylenol," Pam suggested softly.
Dwight shook his head, this office was full of useless people. "Kevin, help me carry her to the couch."
For his part, Kevin seemed happier watching Angela suffer. Not for the first time Dwight wondered what kind of sick bastards he was working with.
"First, I don't think that's what you do with head injuries," Jim spurted like an idiot, "second, she's still conscious."
"Were you trained by the Lackawanna County Volunteer Sheriff's Department?" Dwight shot back.
Jim grinned like an idiot. "No, I wasn't."
Dwight snorted derisively and turned his attention back to Angela. She had an expression on her face he'd never seen before.
When the ambulance arrived, Michael had surprisingly agreed when Dwight asked to ride along and watch over Angela in case the paramedics screwed up. He knew within seconds of meeting them that his suspicions were warranted when they described Angela's injuries as "minor" and tried to get out of driving her to the hospital. He had insisted, of course, and after much cajoling on his part, they finally agreed to let him stay with her in the back.
Halfway to the hospital, she finally spoke. "You know, Dwight," her voice had no emotion to it, which he couldn't help but respect. "I always hated that you tried to take control, but now I realize... that someone has to be there in case something happens to me."
"Maybe we don't have to fight over power," he agreed. It wasn't something he was used to and he felt somewhat conflicted about it. "Maybe we can be... a team."
Maybe it was the look in her eyes and maybe it was motion of the speeding ambulance, but Dwight found himself climbing onto the gurney with her.
Maybe it was that she had just asked him to climb up onto her gurney with her. He didn't know.
All he knew was that he could feel his warhammer rising in readiness and when he looked down at her, she said that magic word: "relations." And that settled it.
When they arrived at the hospital, Dwight had asked the ambulance driver not to say anything about what had happened. The driver said that wouldn't be an issue.
Pam: The other day I was flipping through the channels and I saw this show about Bam Margera planning his wedding. And... I thought to myself "I'm... really glad this wasn't on when I was engaged to Roy..."
Pam had always accepted that Roy would be her first, much in the same way that she would eventually die and return to the earth she sprung from.
It wasn't that Pam was completely dead to the erotic, for years she had been prone to frequent and elaborate fantasies of many stripes. Nor that she was not attracted to Roy. Still... she treated each new advance in his foreclosure of her body with the stoic acceptance of a martyr and looked toward the final act of copulation with the same attitude that Roy would later hold towards their wedding: it was inevitable... but should still be postponed as long as humanly possible.
However, one could only push back the inevitable for so long without actually being able to move time backwards, and so, after what seemed like a long enough period of involvement at that age, Pam and Roy had sex for the first time.
The act that taken place after a particularly awful party, which seemed right to Pam as she and Roy had had their first kiss at a truly awful party and she had been at an awful party when she had seen his genitals for the first time... when he and his brother had gotten incredibly drunk, tucked their male members between their legs, and danced around naked to "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun."
Everyone always wanted Roy at their parties.
Roy had been fairly drunk that night, but Pam had learned to treat such matters in terms of relativity. He would be fine to drive, or so he would constantly assure her, but he would certainly be grabby with her on the way home. She thought this as she observed him from the other side of the room, watching alone as he chatted and joked with his friends, laughing as though he had never heard anything quite so funny in his life while she stood alone in the corner. She smiled, brushing aside any trace of jealousy or resentment, she knew he would come and find her at the end of the night.
Then she realized that when he did find her, he would doubtless be in the mood to grope and drool on her, and then she felt depressed again.
The only flaw in her prediction was that she had assumed that he would content himself with the level of affection that they had previously settled on.
The act itself had occurred in Roy's brother's truck as he was driving her home. He had pulled over to the usual spot and suggested that they sit together and listen to the radio. Pam had wanted to listen to an the quirky, local member-funded station, but Roy had been immobile in his choice of Classic Rock. They had made their usual rounds for several minutes, but when "More Than A Feeling" came on, Roy had taken it as God telling him through Boston what his ambitions for the evening ought to be. Unable to resist his pleadings and perhaps a little curious, she had relented. Although her experience was miles away from the some of the horror stories she had heard, it was just as far from any of the fantasies she had nursed, and her primary reaction was the dull, waiting-out-the-clock feeling that would later dominate her professional life. Pam had insisted on keeping her sweater on throughout the proceedings, still not feeling completely comfortable exposing her breasts to Roy. He didn't seem to care. In fact, he barely cinched his zipper all the way down, not even as far as he did to urinate. Anyway, he was done before the song began to fade.
Afterwards he had kissed her and hugged her and promised his fidelity, while she silently assured herself that this one of the many things that she and Roy would improve on with time and practice.
She would finally have her first orgasm years later, in the shower, alone and completely by accident. That day at work, Jim noticed she seemed unable to sustain eye contact with him.
Toby had never believed in sex without love. Which, his friends had told him, was why he was almost out of college and still hadn't gotten any.
He thought their arguments were kind of shallow, but he admitted that it was possible no real woman could compete with the ideal he had held in his mind since childhood, so perhaps he should compromise a little.
His friends agreed, wholeheartedly.
His roommate had set him up with a girl known for "doing anyone" which he was told assured him "at least an off-chance."
During dinner, he had tried to talk to her about his favorite books, films, and painters, only to told she had no interest in any of those things and eyed with unmistakable hostility for trying to make conversation.
He had considered the date a total disaster and was more than slightly surprised to be invited back to her dorm.
She had verbally abused him to whole time, and when he had tried to defend himself by telling her it was his first time, she had told him that much was obvious and pushed his face out of the way, demanding he not look at her.
He had cried afterward and when she had asked him why he told her remorsefully "I don't love you."
She laughed in his face and instructed him to find somewhere else to sleep.
Toby: And that's how I met my ex-wife.
Michael: My first time?
He smiles more goofy than any other human being is capable of.
Michael: Of course I remember it.
He looks up wistfully.
Michael: It was a couple of years... it was many, many years ago. Many. And I was in a bar... I must have snuck in... with a fake ID or... anyway, I'd been drinking for a while and this woman comes up to me, and... I think she was very beautiful... it was late and the lighting was bad, but... she walks right up to me and I'll never forget she said... something. I think it might have been Shakespeare.
Michael: Or Stephen King. But it was beautiful and she took my hand and she lead me back to this little apartment she had in the back. It was like an apartment, it had a bathroom. And she pushed me... very gently against the wall of the toilet and...
He nods suggestively
After a moment, he lets his features become solemn.
Michael: And then I hear this music.. off in the distance. And it's just the most wonderful sound I've ever heard. And I look down at her and I ask her "what is this song?" And she looks up at me and says "it's 'Mambo Number Five.'"
He pauses so the camera can digest the sheer poetic beauty of what he's said.
Michael: True story.