Disclaimer: I do not own the Office. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Five little stories of male bonding that the cameras may not have caught. Let the bromance commence!

A/N: I just thought this up the other night and thought it would be funny since everyone is reunited on the show. I love the men on this show, some of the most well-developed supporting cast members I've ever seen. So yeah, enjoy!

Jim and Creed:

Jim grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter, hoping he didn't disturb Pam while she slept upstairs. After finding out she was a light sleeper, his senses were heightened as he made conscious steps down the hall toward the front door. Checking his watch, he figured he had enough time for a good midnight walk to clear his mind, not being able to sleep most of the evening. Zipping up his hoodie,he was on his way.

He had carried on with this nightly ritual for the past few weeks, desperate to rid away the stresses of mortgages, credit card bills and a wedding, everything seemingly piling around hi, fragile and foreboding. Only at the nighttime could be cloak his shoulders with the comfort of the solitary stars and the massive moon, neither one passing judgment, simply existing. He talked to Pam about most things, but there were still things that could only be processed on his own. He breathed in the clean early spring air, grateful to have found a quiet path to walk at the unusual hour. It wasn't until he smelled something familiar that stopped him in his tracks. "Is that what I think it is?" He searched the street, seeing the old abandoned quarry. He walked with caution he recognized the older gentleman, lighting up, "Creed?"

Creed looked up, noticing Jim and beckoning him over. With a few seconds delay, Jim joined him by the railing that looked over its depths. The marijuana scent stuck to the air, making Jim fearful he might carry the snitch home to Pam. He chuckled to himself at how he would explain it to her. "Oh, you know.. just lightin' it up with my buddy Creed. Yeah, next week we're planning on going to see Grateful Dead at the Montage Mountain Performing Arts Center. Shaking it off, he looked over at Creed in all his oblivious glory. The older man smiled down at the lanky salesman, offering his hash. "Soak it in, kid. It's real quality stuff."

"Nah, I'm good." He looked at the black abyss, trying to piece together the turn of events that brought him here. "Nice night."

"Yeah, man." He took another hit, smiling euphorically. "So, you're getting hitched to Dollface, right?"

"Um, yeah... 'Dollface'." He stood up straighter, thinking about leaving when he turned to Creed again, only now his face was more sullen.

"I never married. Or maybe I had, can't really remember." He took another hit, holding it in until his eyes nearly watered, slowly exhaling it. "I like to think if I had, she would be a good woman like her. You know, looked nice in skirts, bathed on a daily basis, and smiled often." He tossed the last of his joint down below, shaking his head. "I mean, the bachelor life is sweet but a good woman is what it's all about." He bent down, picking up a rock and threw it across the vast distance, eventually hearing it plunk at the bottom. "Come on, kiddo. Throw something. It's fun." Jim watched as Creed threw another rock into the quarry, smirking as he picked up a small bit of brick. Leaning back, he threw it a great distance, knocking down another rock on the wall of the hole. Creed nodded. "Nice shot." He tried to do something similar, but it didn't quite make it.

They continued to throw meaningless objects, the fluid movements feeling quite cathartic to Jim until he realized what he was doing. Stopping, he patted Creed on the back. "I think I'm gonna take off."

Creed looked back nodding. "Okay, man. See you tomorrow." He continued to throw, not missing a beat. Jim watched him a few more moments, impressed by the old man's stamina. He finally turned and walked back swiftly home, all but running to where things made sense. It wasn't until he was nearly there that he realized he didn't feel as confused, he actually seemed relaxed. He wasn't sure how he would explain it to Pam later that Creed Bratton might have cured his anxiety, but he knew despite the fact he smelled like a college kid's dorm room, he knew Pam would find it amusing, only proving what a good woman he had.

Andy and Oscar:

Andy was walking out of the office when he noticed a light from the accounting. He had made an effort to not look in that direction of the office, afraid of having to glance and find her judging eyes. He missed her quite often, but it old news. He had spent his 'honeymoons' stag, thoroughly enjoying every minute of it. It wasn't until he was looking down from the hot air balloon and seeing God's creations that he figured he didn't really know Angela. He thought she would appreciate seeing the world from a different perspective, but she only seemed to be satisfied with the only truths that she could see at her small frame.

Leaving the building, he noticed Oscar in the parking lot pulling out. Waving at him, Oscar slowed down. "Hey man. I didn't know you were still here."

Andy shrugged. "Yeah, had to work on some more sales folios." He waved again, walking to his car when Oscar followed him.

"You gonna head over to Poor Richard's tonight?"

"It's Tuesday, isn't it?" He completely forgot about the weekly drinking night with the employees. He had steered clear of the event after the disaster of his relationship, fearful of more embarrassment. He looked over at Oscar, thinking it would be nice to throw back a few drinks.

"She's not gonna be down there. She said something about her cat... Ash, I think, needing to get some medicine or something for it."

Andy smirked, thinking that he had at least someone in that corner that didn't hate him. "Yeah, I'll be there in a bit." Walking to his car, he heard Oscar pull away.

Entering the bar, he noticed Kevin and Creed in the corner near Jim and Pam as they were talking over beers. He waved at everyone, taking a seat next to Oscar and Stanley at a small table. "What's up?"

Stanley nodded dubiously before excusing himself, leaving Andy alone with Oscar. He turned to Andy, looking concerned. "You alright, man?"

Andy sighed, perching his elbow on the table, leaning into his hand. "No, not really." He looked around, knowing she would be there but still anxious. "I don't know, dude. It's just..."

"Hard. I know. It's gonna be that way for a while." He patted Andy on the shoulder, motioning for another round. "Look, the best way to get over someone is with another drink. This round's on me."

He pinched the bridge of his nose before talking a sip of his freshened drink. "So, you wanna talk about it?"

Andy smiled to himself, not sure how to continue. "Why do you want to know? I mean, Angela works with you, she's your supervisor... I don't think I want to be responsible for you not liking her anymore."

Oscar chuckled to himself, thinking it would be impossible for him to like Angela any less. "I'm you wingman. It's what we do, remember?"

Without hesitation, Andy nodded and began talking about everything he was feeling, spreading it all out for the taking and grateful for the few moments such as these, where he didn't feel like a sucker who fell in love, but just another guy in a bar with his friend.

Michael and Ryan:

It had only been two weeks on the job and he was already itching to leave. He thought about the past year, everything that he had and how it all crumbled, now facing the fire and brimstone that was his daily life with less than a modicum of decorum. He looked around his slice of corporate America, a pool table, a copy machine and a tile wall he was certain was used as a shower at one time. And the saddest truth was this was the best offer he had given in months. After his trip to Fort Lauderdale, he couldn't find any better prospects than being the "shoe bitch". He cringed at the idea that Michael Scott had a significant role in his success. This was his life, but Ryan Howard was determined to be once again on top and staying clean. "What happened to all the cheese puffs?"

Pam looked over at the empty container. "Bummer, I guess we ate them all. I'll put them on the shopping list." She smirked as she wrote down the notation, going over her cold call list. Sighing again, she grabbed her purse. "I could go to the store really quick. Seeing as it's pretty quiet..."

Ryan shook his head, looking around as they were the only ones in the room. "It's always quiet."

"That was kinda the point of the joke." Rolling her eyes, she left Ryan to his own devices.

He heard the door open again as Michael walked toward is desk. "Hey Ry. What's good on YouTube these days?"

Ryan shrugged. "Same old." He clicked around the different open windows, until he looked up at Michael, who was looking over at the several time zones. "What's wrong?"

"I was just thinking what I'd be doing if I were in London right now. Or Hong Kong. Or Paris." He looked glum, despite the fact that he seemed to be the only person who seemed optimistic about the company. He smiled again. "You seeing anybody?"

Tensing slightly as images of Michael staring at him through glass windows popped into his mind. "Um... no, not really." He thought about the only other person who might still have some interest, but even that made him feel saddened that she wouldn't be interested in him any longer, finally tired of his games. The only real action he had gotten was from whatever easy marks he could find at the lame watering holes in this small town. "You know, playing the field."

"Yeah, me too." He looked back at the wall, lost in his own thoughts, ones Ryan was sure he could never fully comprehend. "Pam's lucky. She has Jim."

"Yeah..." He suddenly felt self-conscious, the walls seemingly closing in on him. He took a seat back at the table, hoping his small panic attack would settle. "Look, Michael... um, we should probably get back to work."

Michael brightened up. "You're so right, Ryan. This company isn't going to sell itself." He walked into around his desk, banging his knew on the file cabinet. "Every damn time!" He rubbed it, taking a seat when he noticed Ryan staring at him. "What?"

Ryan took a deep breath. "Why do you always give me seconds chances?" He had been wondering for a while, not just recently, but after the scandal at Corporate, Michael had always helped him, Ryan never knowing beyond his unusual attachment to him for the reason.

Michael shrugged, looking at the clocks on the wall. "You know what I thought about what I'd do in all those places?"

Ryan rolled his eyes, shaking his head, giving up on having a serious conversation with his eccentric boss. "No, Michael."

"Well, I couldn't think of one thing that was better than what I'm doing right now. I'm shaping a young mind... shaping yours. And I couldn't think of anything better than that. You're my protégé, my muse and everything else and helping you become the person I think you can be... well, that's why I help/ I know you can be better. You are better." Michael smiled again before picking up the phone. "Hi, tis is Michael Scott and I was wondering if you're in the market for buying paper."

Ryan tried to compose himself, holding back the emotion that took over him. It was a long time since someone had blindly given him such praise. He moved over to his side of the desk, grabbing his list as Pam returned. She put the large container or orange fuzz in the center of the table. "Ah, that's better."

Toby and Dwight:

Toby walked through the kitchen when he noticed Dwight drinking something from a thermos. "Hey, um... Dwight?"

Dwight turned around, looking rather disgusted. "Toby. I thought Michael fired you."

"I work right back there." He knew that no one ever went back to the annex other than for the occasional soda or snack, but he still resented everyone oblivious attitude toward him. "Yeah, anyway, I need to speak with you for a moment."

Dwight nodded, following Toby. As they settled, Dwight looked stern. "What and/or who do you want me to kill?" He pulled out a notepad. "I could give you the Schrute special since it's hunting season,but than again, it might go up on price with zoning, but I know you're good for it."

"What? No... it's nothing like that." He shook his head. "Look, it's about your altercations with Angela."

Dwight stiffened immediately. "That's none of your concern."

"I'm afraid it is. You are both employees and the company contract that you signed doesn't condone interdepartmental relations without the proper documents.

"Are you telling me I have to admit having... relations with Angela?"

"In the sake of argument, yes. But once it's finished, you don't have to ever discuss it with me again." He sighed, hating having to ask for private information if it concerned the company. "I'll be very discreet."

Dwight crossed his arms. "And what if I have refuse?"

Toby sighed. "Look, Dwight. It's just filling out a form. I wouldn't ask you otherwise, but I need to take record for it for Corporate. It's like two pages long, and that's it."

Dwight made another severe expression, breathing through his nose. "I want to be guaranteed that this information will not be released to anyone else.

"I assure you, no one can get access to these files."

Dwight shifted his eyes slightly, remembering a certain incident where certain files were taken for his own pleasure. "What do I have to do?

Toby pulled a frequently used binder as so many of his coworkers seemed to be very engaged into interdepartmental relationships. "Just fill this out. Once that's finished, you can go back to work."

Dwight nodded, pulling his own pen. "Grandfather's pen. He used it to sign up for the Second Reich in odd seven." He filled out the paperwork rather quickly, handing it back to Toby. "Okay, your task is complete. May I go back to selling paper?"

Toby nodded. "Of course." He looked over it , making sure every space was filled. He didn't life reading them, feeling more invasive. "Thank you."

Dwight stood up to leave when he paused. "Could I be candid with you for a moment?" He looked around the annex, seeing if Kelly was next door. Assessing the area empty, he sat next to Toby again. "I... I don't want you to think that my work performance will falter due to the recent indiscretions. In no way will working with her change me here." He looked on sternly, trying his best to look convincing.

Toby nodded solemnly. "Of course." He smiled gently. "I never that it would."

Dwight stiffened again. "Of course you didn't." He stood up again, straightened his tie. "As you were." He left swiftly, the door swinging.

Toby rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I really hate my job."

Stanley and Kevin:

Kevin pulled up to the small diner, practically hearing his stomach growl as he neared the delicious pie that made every Friday evening eventful. He had gone there for the past few months after a small desert outing with Holly, instantly enjoying the atmosphere. Before long, it become a regular thing, getting the apple pie or the lemon meringue or whatever that day's special might have been. Tonight was going to be special since he was meeting his new girlfriend, Lynn. It was his first time meeting her there and he was a little nervous, his palms already sweating. They had been dating only a few weeks, but it seemed to be going somewhere, a place he hadn't been in far too long.

As he walked up the stairs, he recognized another couple in the back booth. Waving, he saw Terri and Stanley smiling back. He walked over. "Hey guys."

Terri smiled. "Hi Kevin. How are you?"

Kevin wiped his hand on the side of his pants, doing his best to control his breathing. "Doing good. How's everything?"

"Oh you know. Stanley had to get his weekly treat. But tomorrow, back on the diet." She playfully nudged Stanley as he devoured his chocolate pie. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, I meeting my girlfriend for some pie." He smiled toothily saying 'girlfriend' aloud. Only in his own head was she considered his girlfriend, and he hoped that by the end of the night, that might change.

Terri smiled wider. "Oh, isn't that lovely? Isn't that lovely, Stan?" Stanley simply nodded, seemingly too involved in his food.

"Well, nice seeing you guys. Are you going to the company picnic?"

Terri giggled. "Of course. I have to see my baby kick all those young kids' butt at football." She laughed again. "See you there."

"Okay, 'bye." He waved as he headed over to the counter, looking at the pie tray, looking over at the assorted flavors and styles. They all looked appetizing, making Kevin's mouth water. Suddenly, he felt someone come up behind, breathing a sigh of relief seeing Stanley. "Hey."

"I'm only gonna say this once." He threw a five dollar bill on the counter, leaning closer to Kevin. "If you really like this woman, and I think you do... get her the chocolate cream pie. She'll never leave your side id you get her that. Trust me." He winked, patting him on the back as he walked back over to Terri. Kevin watch the two, hand in hand, leaving and seemingly happy. Somewhere deep inside, he wanted that. If Stanley could have that, why couldn't he?

He left the counter, taking a seat in a booth when Lynn walked in with her lovely smile. She leaned over, kissing him on the cheek. "I love this place. I haven't been here in a while though." She took off her coat, and looked over the menu. "I hope they have my favorite pie tonight."

Kevin giggled inwardly as the server came to their table."What can I get for you folks?"

Kevin looked over at Lynn before ordering. "Two slices of chocolate cream pie, please?"

Lynn laughed. "That's my favorite! How did you know?"

Kevin silently thanked Stanley, reaching across the table to take her hand. "Lucky guess."

FIN.

Okay, that's it. I miss writing for this show and I thought I'd do this for fun. I might do another oneshot or work on my other unfinished works. Hoped you enjoyed reading. Cheers!