AN: Okay, well, I've finally decided to write another multi-chaptered story. (SHOCK AND AWE!) This time, it's AU. (AWE AND SHOCK!) And, it's ALL ABOUT J-hizzle and P-bizzle. Wow. I'm scaring myself a little bit.
Did I mention, for the first time, I'm ACTUALLY going to write a disclaimer? The thing is, I'm traveling in murky waters, so I'm going to cover my ass.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Office, NBC, or any of its affiliates. Jim, Pam, and any other recognizable settings or characters belong to NBC. I also do not own Carnival Cruise Line or any of its affiliates. The Carnival motto is copyrighted to Carnival Cruise Lines. I also do not own Rock 107 in Pennsylvania. I am not related or affiliated with anything at all. And, unfortunately, I am not making a cent from the writing or publishing of this story.
There! Now that THAT'S out of the way, I give you 'The Cruise'!
Jim Halpert was awakened at seven o'clock in the morning by his cell phone. Groggily, he rolled over, his eyes unfocused and crusted. He reached across his bed to his bedside table and grabbed his cell phone. The caller ID was an 800 number, so he ignored it and turned over.
Ten minutes later, it rang again. The polyphonic sequence of beeps trilled in his ear, screaming at him to answer the damn phone. His hand felt around his table blindly for a moment, before grabbing the offending object and putting it to his ear.
"Hello?" he mumbled, swearing if it was a telemarketer he was going to kill somebody.
"Jim Halpert?" the slick, male voice on the other end asked. Jim recognized the voice but couldn't place it.
"Uh, yeah. This is Jim." He sat up, now slightly awake.
The voice on the other end took a dramatic pause. "Jim Halpert, you are the lucky winner of… An all-expenses paid cruise, sponsored by Carnival! The Fun Ships. At any one moment, there are a million ways to have fun!"
The sleek product placement did nothing to clear Jim's confusion. "What?" he asked, dazed.
"This is Jim Halpert of Scranton, Pennsylvania, right?" Jim grunted a confirmation, and the voice continued. "We here at Rock 107 selected your name from thousands of submissions, and you've won a luxury cruise!"
Jim's mind went back three weeks prior, on a boring Thursday afternoon. He was sitting at his desk, typing an email to a client, when his inbox alerted him he'd just received and email from Pamela M. Beesly.
Jim--
Okay, I am SO going to win this radio contest. Rock 107 is hosting this contest where you have to create a jingle for them and you win a cruise to an undisclosed location! It has to be totally corny, and, seeing how together we are The King and Queen of Making Fun of Corny (or something like that), we could win!! But, could you help me? I mean, I totally can't win this without you. Help! Please?! Roy and I need a honeymoon STAT!
Your Queen,
Her Royal Highness, Pamela Beesly
Jim had agreed, and they'd worked on it all day through email. The following day, they sent their lyrics to the correct address and hoped they'd win. Well, Pam hoped they'd win. Jim was just a little sick to his stomach thinking that he'd helped the woman he loved win a vacation for her and her fiancée.
Coming back to the present day, Jim let out a weak, "Awesome!" Not because he meant it, but because normal people are usually excited about winning a free trip. He gave the appropriate information to the radio station when he was transferred, and then was told he'd get an email with the flight and cruise information by the end of the day.
Jim hung up the phone in a daze. They'd won? Maybe he had a career in writing crappy jingles and slogans for radio stations. Couldn't be as boring as paper.
He ran his hand through his hair, and then grunted. It was almost seven-thirty, and he had to be at work in a half an hour. On auto pilot, he stumbled into his bathroom and took a quick shower. He was already slightly awake, and the cool water helped his eyes brighten and his responses sharpen, a sure sign he was conscious.
He exited the bathroom quickly, nodded at Mark's new girlfriend Mia on the couch, and then went to his room. His cell phone was blinking. Five missed calls, two new voice messages, and three new text messages. All from Pam.
The first text read, "OH MY GOD!!" The second read, "OH MY GOD!!" The third read, "OH MY GOD!! CALL ME!! NOW!!"
The first voice mail message was Pam screaming. The second was Pam demanding him call her. With a smile, Jim quickly dialed her number.
"JIM!" Jim laughed. It hadn't even rang. "Jim! We won! We won! Oh my god! Oh my god!"
Jim switched his phone to his other ear as he zipped up his pants. "Yes Pam, we did win. Good job."
He could imagine her rolling her eyes. "Shut up. We won! Aren't you happy? What'd they say? Where are we going? When is it? What should I pack? Are they paying for the flight, too? What cruise line? Do I need to get any shots? Do I need my passport? Oh my god! Is it Europe? The Mediterranean? Italy? It's Rome, huh? No, France! London! Belgium!"
"Woah, slow down there Beesly." Jim sat down on his bed and pulled on his socks. "I don't know anything yet. All they told me is that I won an all-expenses paid cruise on Carnival. The rest, I don't know."
Pam took a deep breath. "Okay, wow. This is just… I didn't really think we'd win! I read the other entries, and they were so cool… Wow! Wow!" Jim chuckled, straightening his tie. "Okay, I'm in the car. I'm pulling into the parking lot. Get to work, okay? We need to talk!"
"I'm getting in right now," Jim told her, unlocking his Honda. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Bye."
"I can't wait to tell Roy! Bye!"
Her last statement made Jim drop his keys. He had totally forgotten about Roy. He had won this for Pam, so she'd have a great honeymoon. With Roy. Her fiancée. Not him. Her best friend. Her just best friend.
Jim drove the 5.7 miles to work in silence. Not even the radio, which would normally be played The Who, Rolling Stones, or Death Cab, sat silent and unused. He pulled into the parking lot, turned off the ignition, opened his door, and got out like a zombie.
"Jim!" Jim looked up when he heard his name to see Pam running towards him from the elevator. "Jim!" She hugged him tightly, something they rarely did. "We're going on a cruise!"
Then, Pam realized what she was doing. She pulled away quickly, blushing, and Jim's face turned a little pink. "Uh, yeah. Awesome," he managed to say, still recovering from having her so close to him.
"So, I told Roy," Pam started, walking towards the elevator. "He's pumped. He heard Carnival has great casinos and stuff, which'll keep him busy. Then I called Rock 107 and confirmed me going. Which, I don't know if I needed to do, but they told me I'd get an email, too. Oh, and I called my mom and told her. She's so excited!" Pam beamed.
"Wow," Jim said, "You did all that in the ten minutes it took me to get here?"
Pam smiled. "Yep."
The next hour went by silently, only broken with Michael's grand entrance. Dwight, for once, was occupied with sales calls for an hour, which let Jim actually work.
"So," Pam started as Jim popped a jelly bean in his mouth, "I went on Carnival's website. A normal ship has like, three pools, a spa, a golf thing, an all-you-can-eat-buffet, five-star dining, 24-hour ice cream and pizza, a casino, a theatre with shows every night, a gift shop—"
"—which will no doubt be overpriced," Jim cut in.
"—and these cool foldable towel animals housekeeping makes for you when they clean your room," Pam finished.
"Wow." Jim popped in another jelly bean. "So, can you actually sleep? Are there places to sleep, or do you just curl up beneath the over-priced stuffed animals?"
Pam laughed. "I know, right? Seriously, these ships are like floating amusement parks. It's awesome."
Jim smiled. "I got an email." Pam's eyes stretched out three times their normal diameter. "Yeah," he said, "it was really interesting. And shocking. And…"
"And what?" Pam asked, her gaze boring into his skull. "What did it say? Oh my god."
"My mom told me IKEA was having a huge sale on comforters, and that I should check it out. Apparently, I need a new one. Which, I mean, I don't think is true. The one I have only slightly smells like wet dog."
Pam smacked him with her pen. "I hate you."