Jim's first thought that morning was that perhaps he had woken up in an alternate universe. He had stumbled downstairs in a tank top and pajama bottoms, his hair a mess, wearing his old glasses since he had not put in his contacts yet, to find Dwight Schrute in his kitchen cooking breakfast.
The aroma of coffee brewing and the sound of sizzling bacon had woken him up from his sleep much earlier than his usual 7:30 am. It was in fact only 6:15, a time at which Jim preferred to still be unconscious.
"What are you doing?" Jim managed to mumble semi-coherently.
"Um, what does it look like I'm doing?" Dwight responded in his usual condescending manner.
Even in Jim's barely awake state he realized that Dwight's question did not merit an answer. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.
"How long have you been awake?" Jim asked.
"Since 5 a.m. I'm not a slacker like you, Jim. I live on a farm. I get up every morning to take care of chores before I go to the office."
Again Jim decided this was not worth responding too. It was too early in the morning to argue with Dwight. "The doctor said you should get plenty of rest."
"Oh please," Dwight muttered, making some sort of disdainful sound. "That doctor knows nothing. My body can heal from any injury much faster than the average person. Superior genetic stock."
"Of course, how could I forget?" Jim said. Dwight had spent the night at Jim's apartment after suffering a concussion the day before. The doctor had thought it would be best not to leave him alone for a while. Jim had tried to convince Michael to let Dwight stay with him, but Michael said that someone should stay with him to help take care of his grilled foot. Jim considered dropping him off at the farm with Mose, but thought that might not be such a good idea. He wasn't sure that Dwight's cousin would really know what to do if something bad happened.
So being Jim Halpert, he decided to do the right thing and bring Dwight home with him. It had not been too bad the night before. Post concussion Dwight had actually been kind of fun. He was friendly and humorous, two traits definitely lacking in the usual Dwight. Jim had spent some time considering whether it would be unethical to cause Dwight to receive head injuries on a regular basis. He ultimately decided against it, but it was a tough decision.
However thanks to his considerate nature he was now subjected to dealing with the usual abrasive Dwight Schrute far too early in the morning.
"Aren't you going to eat breakfast?" Dwight asked, as if the answer were clearly obvious.
"No thanks. I'm not really hungry."
Dwight glared at him. "Fact: Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Growing up on the farm we got up early for a breakfast of hard boiled eggs, venison sausage and beet juice to give us the energy to make it through the day."
"Well, I don't work on a farm so I think I'll be okay." Jim replied, taking another sip of his coffee.
Dwight rolled his eyes. "No wonder you are only the ninth place salesman in our company. If you would eat a hearty breakfast every day you could be at the top, like me."
"So if I eat this food, I'll become top salesman?"
"No! I'm number one. You'll be… number two."
"What if I eat a better breakfast? Then I could beat you."
"That's not how it works, Jim!" Dwight was starting to get flustered and Jim found it quite amusing.
"If you say so…" Jim replied, sounding unconvinced. "I better eat some of this breakfast anyway, just in case."
Dwight muttered something under his breath but Jim pretended not to hear it. They ate their breakfast in silence for a few minutes until Jim became aware of the fact that Dwight was watching him. He looked up from his plate to find Dwight staring at him intensely.
"What is it, Dwight?" Jim asked finally, when he started feeling rather awkward.
"I… I, um…" Dwight replied, sounding rather uncomfortable. "I just wanted to thank you for
taking care of me yesterday."
Jim felt as if he had just witnessed some sort of scientific impossibility. Did Dwight really just thank him for something? He had no idea how to respond to such a comment. Certainly a joke or witty comment would be inappropriate to such a serious statement. But he was not used to dealing with Dwight in any other way.
Finally Jim decided on the simplest response. "You're welcome," he said sounding just as uncomfortable as Dwight.
They ate in silence for another few moments until Dwight spoke again. "Don't think I'm going to become one of your little slacker groupies playing pranks on people just because you helped me one time." Dwight looked at him with a very serious expression.
Jim laughed a little. "I would never think that, I promise." Jim replied. "I'm going to get ready for work."
Jim stood up from the table leaving a barely eaten plate of bacon and eggs behind. He wandered into his bathroom to begin his typical morning routine, albeit an hour too early. He reached for his hairbrush which he discovered was not in its usual spot. He began looking around his counter, somewhat confused at this early hour. As he opened the top drawer of his vanity to look for it he burst into a fit of uncontrollable anger.
There was his hairbrush, suspended in a blob of blue Jello.
Okay, so maybe it would not be so bad if Dwight got knocked in the head every once in a while…
Author's note: This is my first ever Office fic. (Yay!) It was just a little scene that popped into my head after watching "The Injury." I hope you enjoyed. Any feedback would be loved and cherished. Thanks!