Hi everyone, this is my first Office fiction and I'm totally stoked! I've been meaning to write one for awhile, but I didn't have the chance to, and now, well I do, so here it is!
I hope I was true to the characters and I would really appreciate it if you would review and tell me what you thought!

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, nor the idea of The Office (if I did, hiatuses would be a thing of the past...)

Complications

Chapter 1

Snow Day

The door opened quickly with a cool gust of air and a whoosh. The office was heated, but the corridor that linked with the office was as freezing as the late January temperature.

"Pam!" Michael called out to her as he entered the office and shook his dark winter coat free of lingering snowflakes, "Pam! Pamela! Pamelot!" He greeted as he made his way over to the reception desk.

"Ha! Get it?" he questioned as she glanced up to him with a forced smile, "It's like Camelot, though I don't think any knights are going to be sitting at your round table."

Her face immediately dropped as she turned it towards her desk. Michael in his absurdity thought that the sudden change in personality was due to confusion, rather than sadness.

He swiftly began to break down his joke, "You know? Because you and Roy broke up and Jimbo's gone? So you really have no one right now, and the round table was, you know, full." His smile never faltered as he finished his explanation, "You get it now?"

"Yeah," she replied quietly, her head not turning upwards to face him.

"Great," he exclaimed and turned around to find half of the office staring at him in shock, "Come on guys, you'd better get as much work done before we get sent home for inclement weather," he added in a gleeful tone.

"But Chet Montgomery said that Scranton would only get an inch of snow at the most," Kevin informed monotonously from where he sat in his corner.

"Yeah, well Chet's only a meteorologist and their only right like, what? Three percent of the time? So…"

"Actually there was a TV special on about a week ago that said Chet was one of the most precise meteorologists in America," Toby stated from the doorway to the kitchen "It said that he was right nine times out of ten."

"Yeah, well, that's not perfect okay, Toby? And I think that today is going to be that tenth time," Michael argued angrily, "In fact, I am willing to bet twenty bucks that we're out of here before noon."

Toby shook his head and turned his back to Michael, going through the Kitchen and back to his desk.

"Great," Michael curtly responded, "After you're driving home in eight feet of snow, we'll see how strong your love for Chet really is."

Eleven O'clock had rolled around and the overcast skies had parted, letting the dull winter sun through to melt the small existing amount of snow.

"Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam," she answered the phone. It was Jan again for Michael, probably to berate him for calling her sixteen times in one hour to ask how much snow Stamford was supposed to receive.

She transferred the call to Michael and didn't suppress the small smile that crawled to her face as she heard him through the thin walls of his office trying to wheedle his way out of being reprimanded.

She turned back to her computer and to the game of solitaire displayed on it. Whether it was all in her head or not, her win average had dropped since he'd left. The game had gotten excessively harder and she was lucky if she could win one or two a day.

The phone rang again and she reached over, lifting it off the receiver, "Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam," the words were programmed into her after three years of saying them for eight hours a day for five days a week.

It was Jan again, apparently she hung up and though of more things to berate Michael with. With a quick 'please hold', and a push of the transfer button she was back to her uneventful game.

Inconspicuously she swerved her head around the monitor of her computer and glanced towards the desk that used to be his. Used to be.

Now Ryan sat there. After two and a half months of looking for a replacement for Jim, Michael had decided to offer the position to Ryan who at first seemed horrified. Pam really couldn't blame him; he had plans for the future, none of which included Dunder Mifflin in the slightest. But he realized the pay was higher and he could learn more in a sales position.

The game of solitaire quickly ended when she found she had no more moves, and a pencil was brought out to make the doodles she was already thinking of tangible. Sometimes she drew nothing in particular, just random squiggles and patterns. Other times she might draw a scene from a movie or a memory with the tiniest detail sketched out in a fine HB line. No matter what she drew, she kept it. She brought it home and put it in a special folder.

Her stomach gurgled oddly as her hunger grew. Usually she had a tea and some sort of snack at ten, but she hadn't had the chance to enter the kitchen to make it. Someone had made a pot of coffee right before she went in and the pungent smell of it was strong enough to make her stomach do summersaults.

Her mind came to a halt as she saw the swirling heart she had drawn on the page, and she thought of him. She wondered how much snow Stamford was really going to get, and if he minded driving home in it. She wondered if he was having fun with his new job, with his very own office. She wondered what kind of pictures he hung on his walls and if it was as cluttered as Michael's.

She glanced up towards the computer screen again to check the time, eleven-thirty-six. She let out an exhausted sigh as her hand came up to cover the yawn that escaped her mouth.

"Tired?" Phyllis asked with a smile as she walked pass Pam's desk.

"Yeah," Pam nodded in agreement, "My classes in New York started this month and it's been really bad driving up there in the winter weather."

"Oh right," Phyllis grinned widely, "How is it?"

"It's really great; I'm learning all about computer graphics and stuff like that. If I finish it with a high mark, I might be able to get a job at the Stamford branch," she informed with a wider smile then she would've liked.

"That's really great…"

"Alright everyone," Michael shouted loudly as he walked out of his office. "Ryan, go get Toby," he told the now salesman as he walked up beside his desk, "I want to make sure he gets it from the mouth of the horse."

Ryan sighed and rose from his seat to retrieve Toby from the back room. When he had arrived Michael made sure he had everyone's attention before continuing, "You can all go home now, because the office is closed due to inclement weather."

"What?" Oscar questioned as he turned away from his desk.

"This is not inclement weather, Michael," Stanly informed as he looked up to Michael.

"I know it's not inclement weather by your standards, but we all weren't raised in the Ghetto," Michael added.

"No this is not inclement weather anywhere," Stanly argued.

"No I think…"

"No he's right," Kelly agreed, "There's no snow on the ground because the sun melted it all and it's actually pretty nice out, you should open a window or something in your office."

"Well Kelly, I can't, because I'm going home," Michael exclaimed as he walked into his office and returned with his coat slung over his arm, "I'll see you all tomorrow."

"Aren't you going to put on your coat?" Pam questioned as he walked by her desk.

"No it's too hot for that," he enlightened as he opened the door and walked out into the hall.

She pulled her car into her driveway and took the keys out of the ignition. Stopping a moment to look at her house. Her house. Five months ago she would've been sharing it with Roy, and that had changed all in a matter of hours. His stuff was out and he was gone, and she was left alone with the house.

It was small, and the roof was shingled an unattractive green color and leaked in certain areas, like over the bed and toilet, when it rained. It was like a sauna in the summer and so unbearably cold in the winter that she had to where two pairs of socks and a sweater to bed, but it was her house.

She made her way across the hard ground and to the uneven pathway that led to the deck and let her imagination go. She couldn't wait for the spring to roll around; she could finally plant flowers in the front of her house like she wanted to do last year, but some how Roy seemed to have talked her out of it. Now that he was gone nothing was going to stop her, she'd always wanted a nice, full garden, like the kind she had when she was growing up.

The stairs that lead up to her deck creaked as she stepped on them; the wood was old and dilapidated along with the rest of the ancient deck. She was beginning to think of the ways she could fix it when something caught her eye.

She'd barely noticed it, parked halfway down the street where he always parked, but it was there. A grin consumed her face as she clapped her hands together excitedly, and then rummaged through the pockets of her winter coat for the keys to her house.

He'd probably gotten her email that the small nip of the flu she'd gotten was back and came to investigate himself. It had been almost a month since he came down for Christmas, and as unexpected as it was, she was glad she was going to see him again.

She giggled to herself as she shoved the keys into the door and unlocked it. It seemed so funny that one red, Corolla could make her so happy.

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, and the second will be up shortly!