Author's Note: Okay so, I only meant for this to be a one-shot, but it keeps growing and growing...well, to three chapters, anyway. I envision this as the Halloween that would occur during season five. I pulled out my Jump to Conclusions mat and figured Jim and Pam would already be engaged, but - here at least - they don't live together. Sorry.
If you aren't a Star Wars or Indiana Jones fan, this may not make quite as much sense. And also, what's wrong with you? Just kidding. Sort of. Here is where I should also mention that I own the rights to none of the source materials of the eight thousand or so pop culture references made.
Two final notes: a heartfelt thanks to the brilliant ktface3 for her suggestions and ideas on this. So awesome! Also, if in your review you can point out the clue hidden in this chapter to the next story I'm working on, I'll give you a prize. Really!
Enjoy!
A soft click of the door opening signaled the first arrival of the day. As usual it was Pam. She looked up and spotted the camera, which panned up and down her body. She was dressed in a floor-length, maroon gown of sorts with an equally long sheer gray vest over it. Her hair was done in two looping braids, with some type of bun in the back. She immediately looked down at herself, then brought a hand to her hair. Finally she managed an embarassed smile.
"Happy Halloween," she said, as brightly as possible.
Pam: (smiling and blushing slightly) Um, Jim and I are having a 'who'll have the…better costume" challenge…? It started as a joke, but then…well, you know how we get. (She raises her eyebrows.) I know he's planning something big because he took off yesterday and didn't want to get together. (A pause while she listens to a question from off-camera.) Oh, we, uh, aren't trying to have the most creative costume, exactly; it's more…uh…(She fiddles with one of her looped braids, not able to look directly at the camera.) It's a sexy costume challenge, okay?
(Pam looks down at herself for a moment.) I'm Princess Leia, in The Empire Strikes Back? It's the outfit she wears when she and Han Solo are in Cloud City. I made it myself. (She shrugs.) I know, I know, it doesn't seem sexy at all, but Jim let it slip months ago that he had the biggest crush on her after that part. He may be the only guy alive that prefers this to the metal bikini. (She suddenly pales.) You don't think…?
Dwight stood frozen in front of Reception, his face a mask of surprise and – for a horrible moment - lust. Pam's lips were pursed, and she shot a desperate look toward the camera. Finally, Dwight cleared his throat and he stood a little straighter. "Interesting costume, Pam," he said neutrally as he headed toward his desk.
"Thanks," she responded softly, sighing.
Michael swept in immediately after. Upon spotting Pam a look of disgust contorted his features.
"Aw, come on, Pam! A Golden Girl?First the ugly glasses, now this? Have you completely given up?"
Pam sighed again.
Dwight: Of course I know who Pam is dressed as. Do I think she looks sexy? (His face screws into a frown.) No. First of all the costume is far from accurate – for one, where is the quilting at the shoulders of her vest? You can't ignore details like that. Besides, I preferred Leia as she was dressed on the ice planet Hoth. (Dwight nods slowly.) Being prepared for the elements is very sexy. (A pause.) Pam doesn't look terrible, though.
Michael: Well, Pam may have gotten her costume from the Salvation Army geezer section, but some of us tried. (He stands and comes around his desk, turning left and right to show off his costume. What he is supposed to be is unclear, as he is wearing a black suit, white shirt and dark tie – hardly a far stretch from his normal attire.) Oh, shoot…I need these. (He leans over his desk and retrieves a pair of sunglasses and what appears to be a woman's fedora, as evidenced by the hot pink band around it. He puts both on.) I'm a Blues Brother! (Michael imitates the Blues Brothers' dance for a moment, then laughs. The camera jerks upward to focus on his hat. His smile falters a little.) I found it at Claire's. My head is too small for a man's hat.
Pam looked up eagerly as she heard the door open, but her face fell again when she saw it was only Angela entering. As she removed her coat, the camera swung around to catch Dwight watching her surreptitiously. She was wearing a camel-colored sweater and pants, but a curly tail was fastened to the back of her sweater. A zoom-in revealed tiny bananas dangling from her ears.
"Good morning, Pam," she greeted primly, reaching a hand into her bag and retrieving a headband with tiny rounded, tan ears attached to it.
"Morning, Angela," Pam managed, flashing an 'oh my God!' to the camera as Angela popped the headband on. With an almost imperceptible smile she continued to her desk.
Smiling glibly, Dwight returned to his work.
Angela: (airily) I've worn my cat costume three years in a row. (One corner of her mouth twitches.) I just thought it was time for a change.
Michael came out of his office dressed in full Elwood regalia and Kelly, who had been talking at Pam, turned and clapped excitedly. "Omigod, Michael! I love it!" she squealed.
He smiled indulgently. "Well thank you, Kelly."
"Who are you supposed to be?" Pam asked, her brow furrowed. Kelly rolled her eyes.
"Pam, duh! He's totally Britney from the 'Me Against The Music' video – y'know, the one with Madonna?"
"What? No," Michael spluttered.
"That's so clever, I wish I'd thought of that – that was before she got all mixed up with K-Fed and, like, drugs and stuff. She was sooo awesome then," Kelly continued as if she hadn't heard.
"I'm not Britney Spears! Why would I dress as a girl?"
"You dressed in girl's clothes before," Kevin pointed out, reaching into Pam's candy dish.
"Sshhut…it," Michael hissed. "Besides, what are you, the Unabomber?"
"No, I'm Phil Laak."
"Who the hell is that? That's gay. No, no, that's retarded," Michael amended, glancing nervously at the camera.
"Not as gay as Britney Spears," Kevin muttered, giggling around his candy.
"I'm not Britney Spears! I'm a Blues Brother!" He did his dance again, somewhat angrily, to prove his point.
"Britney dances too," Kelly pointed out.
"And you did dress as a girl," Kevin repeated defensively.
"Really?" The question came from Holly, who had entered unnoticed. Michael's eyes darted from Kevin to her, back to Kevin, then rested on Holly.
"No, no. Kevin's an idiot…" But he trailed off as he took in Holly's costume. She wore a short platinum wig, huge bug-like sunglasses and a trench coat. "Wow…Miranda Priestly?" he guessed hopefully.
Holly reached up and touched her wig.
"Yeah," she said, smiling lightly.
"Omigod, I love The Devil Wears Prada!" Kelly announced, clapping again.
Holly: Michael has a thing for Meryl Streep…? Oh. I hadn't heard that.
(She looks down, smiling lightly again.)
Pam was looking thoroughly irritated by the time the door opened at 9:08. Just as it did the phone rang.
"Dunder Mifflin, this is…" Her voice faltered as she and Jim locked eyes. He was staring at her wide-eyed, the look on his face one that his current alter-ego would reserve for a roomful of snakes or a vampy German Grail scholar. Pam swallowed, hard. "I'm sorry, this is Pam," she finally stammered into the phone.
Jim shook his head a little and collected himself, attempting a breezy smile and a tip of his fedora at her as he headed for his desk. The color rising in both his cheeks and hers silently declared the competition a tie. Thus far.
Jim: (pointing) Kids, that is why you don't get drunk with your fiancé and watch Star Wars. No matter how much you love each other, nothing revealed'll remain sacred. (He shakes his head, grinning.) She's good, isn't she?
Pam: (her eyes full of wonder) Do you think he called off yesterday just to grow that stubble?
Jim: (rubbing his chin proudly) Yes I did. Indy has stubble, and I'm committed to accuracy. (He looks down at his costume.) I know it's not the most creative, because who doesn't find Indiana Jones sexy? But he's a particular favorite of Pam's and I had to justify the forty bucks I spent on the hat on our Disney trip. (A pause; he rubs his chin again.) When I saw the stubble this morning I almost switched to Bruce Springstein, circa 1984. (He smiles evilly.) That's a story for another time. Ultimately I stuck with Indy. (Jim's eyes narrow.) I was kinda worried Meredith might be really into Bruce.
As Jim settled in to his seat the camera swung toward Accounting. Oscar was looking toward Sales with a strange expression, but when he spotted the camera he turned quickly, clearing his throat.
Oscar: (who is dressed as Carmen Miranda) Sometimes I think the costume thing gets a little…distracting.
Jim was turning on his computer when Dwight exited Michael's office, where he'd been attempting to cheer up his boss. Jim's eyes went wide again upon spotting his deskmate. He was dressed as one of the Spartans from 300. The one difference was, rather than go shirtless, Dwight had donned a wifebeater which was decorated with rippling abs and pectorals that seemed to have been drawn on with a Sharpie marker. Jim gave the camera a Jim.
"Nice costume, Dwight."
"I know."
"Have you been working out?"
A soft snort issued from Reception.
"I'm in excellent shape under this as well. Holly informed me it was against company rules to be in the office shirtless."
"Thank God for Holly," Jim murmured, then nodded approvingly at Dwight. "Great skirt, too."
"It is not a skirt."
"Then what is it?"
"It's a…tunic," Dwight attempted somewhat lamely. Jim rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"I think tunics have tops."
"It's not a skirt," Dwight repeated.
"Okay, then what is it?"
There was a long pause.
"Not a skirt."
Angela: I enjoy most of the costumes. Some are better than others. (She fingers her right earring.) Even if they do come from a pagan culture.
At 10:30 Jim strolled toward Reception. "So who won?" he asked her, leaning in.
"I think it's still undecided."
"Mmm." He cocked his head to the side. "I'm expecting a call. Can you let me know when it comes in?"
"Sure. Who are you expecting a call from?" she questioned, grabbing a pen.
Jim grinned. "A Dr. Martin Brody?" he supplied. Pam rolled her eyes and threw her pen at him.
"Pathetic."
Michael wandered out of his office. He removed his sunglasses and looked around. "Where's Andy?" he wondered aloud.
"He hasn't come in," Pam told him.
"Mrs. Andy?" Michael looked to Angela, who was at the copy machine.
"Don't call me that, Michael. We're not married," she replied curtly. Noticing the look she was getting from Phyllis, who was standing next to her, she tacked on a hasty "yet. And I don't know where Andy is."
Just then the front door was thrown open. "I'm so sorry, I know I'm really, really late!" Andy cried before he had completely entered.
"Where the hell have you been?" Michael asked.
"I couldn't get the damn spirit gum to hold my beard on," he replied, pressing against a patch of hair along his jaw. He flashed a toothy grin and spread his arms wide. "Whatcha think?"
Jim looked him over slowly. "Jesus Christ," he said, sounding both disbelieving and delighted. Andy pointed excitedly.
"Exactly!" He strutted a little and looked to Angela. "Sweetheart?" The camera turned to her as well. Her face was as crimson as Andy's holy robe.
"Andy! Why would you…how could you…," she stuttered. Andy's face collapsed into confusion.
"I thought you'd like it – that you'd think it was cute."
"Cute?" she spat, sounding near tears. "You thought I'd find you dressing up like our Lord and Savior on a pagan holiday 'cute'?! That's blasphemous!"
"Well how the hell was I supposed to know that?" Andy questioned. Angela's jaw dropped.
"And now you're cursing?! What's wrong with you?" she wailed, throwing down her papers and storming off toward the restroom. The camera caught Jim and Pam exchanging looks of shock.
It also caught a tiny smile from Dwight.
Andy: (wearing an "I'm making the best of this, really!" face) Guess I misjudged that one, huh? It's fine though…and hey, just goes to show how fiery our relationship is. (He shrugs.) Maybe I should have gone with the Pope…? (A long pause, during which Andy's face falls.) I mean what was I supposed to wear, a skirt like Dwight?
Dwight: (smiling maniacally, one eyebrow arched) 'You bring the crowns and heads of conquered kings to my city steps. You insult my queen. You threaten my people with slavery and death! Oh, I've chosen my words carefully, Persian. Perhaps you should have done the same!' (holding his fist high) 'This…is…SPARTA!' (A brief pause.) SCRANTON!