This is my first attempt at an Office fic so I feel compelled to explain: the lines in italics are things being said into the camera Office-style.
Love Letters
ff lindy
"Hey Pam, what's this?" Jim called from the living room where he was packing the contents of her desk into a box.
JIM: Pam is leaving for New York next week, so I'm helping her move. It really sucks, but I'm being supportive, because I really want her to be happy.
"What?" she asked, popping her head out from the kitchen where she was packing. She looked at the box in his hands and ran to him to take it away. "It's nothing." She snaked the box from his hands and held it to herself.
He lowered one eyebrow and stared at her.
"It's nothing," she repeated more calmly. "You didn't open it did you?"
"Um a little. It looked like old drawings and letters or something. I figured it was from when you were younger."
"Yeah," she sighed. "That's exactly what's it is. So lets just toss it," she took it with her into the kitchen and ruffled the black plastic garbage bag to make him think she was throwing it away, then snuck into the bedroom to re-hide the box.
"I know you didn't throw that away," he called down the hall. He popped to his feet and chased her into her room. "It's got to be something totally embarrassing."
"No," she said, still holding it tightly against her, "it's just something private."
"Like gifts from an old boyfriend private?" he asked.
She glared at him, but there was just enough of a smile trying to break across her serious face that he kept pressing the issue.
"Or like middle school diary private?"
"It's none of your business, Jim." The big embarrassed smile finally cracked across her face.
"So, middle school diary private." He lunged for her and tickled her midsection.
"Jim!" she squealed. "No!"
"I'm gonna find out Beesly," he kept tickling until her knees buckled and she landed on the floor, momentarily losing her grasp on the box.
He caught it as it tumbled away from her and unlatched it.
"No!" she called again, this time through laughter. She slammed the box closed, but his hand was already inside holding it open.
"I saw my name."
"Jim, this is really embarrassing," she whined.
"All the more reason to see it. You saw my yearbooks before we even dated."
"This is way worse."
His free hand reached over and tickled her one more time, just long enough to get control of the box again and pull out the sheet of paper from the top. "Jim. Today Michael outed Oscar. Oscar is gay. I knew it, and I wish you'd been there to congratulate me on my astute ability to read people," he read from the first sheet. It went on to tell all about the goings on in the office that day, the off color jokes that had been told, her theories about the office. Half way down the page was a sketch of Michael kissing Oscar, and a caption about this image being burnt into every ones retinas forever.
Pam was hiding her face in her hands as Jim laughed, flipping through the stack of letters. There was one for every day he had been in Stamford. "You wrote me letters?"
PAM: I was kind of a mess when Jim left. I had no one to talk to, so I wrote letters to Jim. And now I wish I had burnt them.
"I know, it's lame."
"No, it's amazing. Why didn't you send these?"
"Because I was…Jim, we weren't exactly on the best terms. I just missed you." Jim was still flipping through them when Pam tried again to close the box. "Okay. I'm mortified, can I put it away now?"
"No way. You don't get these back."
She looked over at him with a furrowed brow.
"These are totally mine now." He closed up the box and latched it, tucking it under his arm.
"Are you making fun?"
"No. You wrote them for me. You can't take back a gift. They're mine."
"Jim they're silly, and I drew on them and…"
"Nope. Mine. Too bad," he gave her a big smile. "Don't worry, I'll let you look at them whenever you want."
She smiled.
"Besides," he nudged her arm, "I'm going to need something to remind me of you while you're gone."
"You'll have all my stuff all over your apartment," she offered.
"I think I like these better."
"Will you write me letters?" she asked. "Keep me updated on all of the ridiculous things that happen?"
"Of course. E-mails maybe, phone calls, because I can't draw anyway so I wouldn't be able to do anything as cool as these." He paused. "It's really going to be terrible being in that office without you."
"Art school is going to be awesome, even without you there."
"Thanks, thanks a lot."
She gave him a peck on the cheek.
Jim walked in the door after work to find his apartment still full of boxes. He promised he would find places for her things while she was gone, but going through her boxes didn't seem like enough to quench his need to be around her.
He sat down at his desk and pulled out sheet of paper.
Pam,
Today I started trying to convince Dwight that the new receptionist is an alien replacement. It started because I keep looking up at her, thinking that you'll be there, and then remembering you're gone.
I miss you.
Love Jim
He did his best to draw little cartoon marsian on the bottom of the page before he folded up the sheet of paper and stuck it in an envelope.
JIM: One day down, 91 to go.