Jim's room was on the fifth floor, and Pam's was on the seventh. When Jim got off the elevator, Pam smiled and said "Bye, Halpert."
He thought about her all the way down the hall to his room.
When he slid the key through the lock, he opened the door to find Dwight already there, unpacking his large suitcase. Dwight was in his trademark brown suit and glasses, his greasy hair parted down the middle like always. He didn't look up to see Jim.
"Hey Dwight." Jim said, throwing his own suitcase on the small couch. The room was medium-sized, with a small washroom, a bedroom with two beds, and a living room with a couch and two armchairs.
Dwight walked over to Jim and looked him in the eye.
"I'm going downstairs to check on security. Please be aware that I have a log of everything in my suitcase, and if anything is missing when I get back, you will be punished." He said, strapping a 'security monitor' badge to his chest. It looked like something you would get at a dollar store.
"And … how will you be checking on security?" Jim asked, not backing away from his co-worker's intense stare.
Dwight looked at him as if he was the stupidest person on earth. "I will go down to the lobby. I will demand to see the security system. I will make sure that everyone's room will be safe during the night. I will …"
"… get thrown out." Jim finished for him.
Dwight was already at the door. "Dammit, Jim!" He exclaimed, frustrated, and stormed off.
Jim smiled to himself. Making fun of Dwight wasn't nearly as fun without Pam.
"Dammit, Jim!" Dwight said, trying to clear out his ear with his index finger.
"What's wrong?" Jim asked innocently, quickly glancing over to reception before turning to his desk-mate. Pam was still humming a high C note while pretending to work.
Dwight just made a really frustrated sound and put his forehead on his keyboard.
Jim started humming the high C as well, and had to stifle a laugh when Dwight put his hands over his ears. "I think my ears are ringing." Dwight commented.
"And how is that my fault?" Jim asked. "If you have that ear-ringing disease … what's that called again, Pam?"
"Pretendenitis." Pam called over from reception.
"Ah, yes. If you have Pretendenitis I couldn't possibly have given it to you, Dwight."
"It gets really painful … If I were you I'd make an appointment with an ear doctor right away." Pam added, and quickly resumed humming.
"I'm not taking your advice. I will never take your advice." Dwight said into his keyboard.
But three minutes later he picked up the phone and asked for Dr. Swanson: ear, nose and throat specialist.
Jim sighed. It was those kinds of things that made him love Pam so much. Those memories, those years at Dunder Mifflin with her were some of the best … and the worst.
Being with Pam every day was a blessing in itself. They were best friends … they were thick as thieves. The pranks they played on Dwight were classic; he remembered every one of them and sometimes spent whole evenings cooking up new pranks to execute the next day. Pam was a bright spot in his otherwise lousy job.
But being best friends with Pam could also be a curse. Her fiancée …it was torture to watch Roy walk in to the office, lean against the receptionist's desk and nag at Pam because he didn't 'get any' the night before. Jim would always feel that sharp little pain in his stomach when that happened. He knew for a fact that if Pam were with him, he would be the happiest man who ever lived. And she would be happy too, because he would treat her like she deserved.
Jim finished unpacking his clothes and put his small suitcase in the closet. Thinking about what Dwight said, he decided to pay Pam a visit.
Jim left the room and rode the elevator up to the seventh floor. The halls were decorated with a pale floral design, and every once and a while there was a little sitting room with a vending machine and a table. When he arrived at Pam's room he knocked on her door excitedly.
Phyllis was the one who answered. When she saw him she said "Hey, Jim."
"Hi. Is Pam in? I have something I want to show her."
Phyllis moved aside and smiled almost knowingly. Sometimes Jim wondered if she knew. Phyllis seemed to know everything about everyone at the office, but she always kept it quiet, which Jim was thankful about.
Pam was just putting her clothes into drawers when he entered the living room.
"I have a surprise for you, Beasley. Guess where Dwight is right now?"
Phyllis appeared behind him and cut in before Pam could answer. "I'm going to go for a while," she said, "If anything happens call me." She nodded at Jim (again, knowingly), and left the room.
Pam put the last of her clothes into the closet, smoothed her blouse and gave him a mischievous look. "Okay, where's Dwight?"
"He's downstairs checking on 'security matters'. You know, making sure that all the door locks are working right and hassling the people at the front desk. You want to go and watch? I have a feeling it'll be a good show."
"Absolutely, I do." Pam said, nodding enthusiastically. He loved it when she said that.
They headed for the door. Jim was thinking about what they would see Dwight doing downstairs when he grabbed the doorknob and gave it a push. But it wouldn't budge.
"Something wrong?" Pam asked behind him.
"No, It's just …" Jim gave the door another, harder push. "The door won't open."
They both took turns pushing on the door, but it wouldn't open no matter what they did.
"Um, I'll call the lobby, maybe they'll send someone up to open it from the other side." Jim said, and picked up the phone.
Pam sat on one of the armchairs in the living room and picked up an old magazine to flip through.
It rang a few times before someone picked up.
"Hello?" A somewhat flustered voice that belonged to the small man with the moustache answered, "How may I … sir, please get away from the phone … no, you can't touch the computer, either!" There was the sound of a small scuffle and then the man spoke again. "Sorry about that, how may I help you?"
"Yeah, hi, the door to our room won't open." Jim said.
"Yes, well, we're having a few technical difficulties down here in the lobby … sir, please get away from the main circuit, you've done enough … thank you …and no, you can't talk into the phone … sir, you are forbidden to use this phone line!"
And then there was the sound of an argument, but Jim couldn't make out what they were saying.
Pam had grown interested and shuffled over to Jim, where he held out the receiver so they could both hear what was going on.
The argument went on for a while. They both stood there, very confused. Finally someone talked into the other end of the phone line.
"Hello sir or madam," another voice chorused out of the phone. Pam and Jim looked at each other. It was Dwight's voice. "We're having a few problems with the locks here. It seems that someone, who is not a security threat, thank you, accidentally tripped the circuit so that all the doors locked. The problem will most likely be solved by tomorrow morning. Thank you."
Dwight hung up the phone rather loudly; both Pam and Jim jumped.
They stared at each other for a moment, until Pam said, "What … was that?"
"I don't know. I'm going to call Oscar, he should know what's going on." Jim flipped open his cell phone and dialed Oscar's number.
Pam retreated back to the couch and opened the magazine again.
After a few minutes Jim hung up his cell phone and sat down on the couch beside her.
"Well, it seems that Dwight messed up all of the door locks in the hotel. And we won't be able to get out until morning …" He trailed off, making sure not to meet her eyes. A whole night alone with Pam? "Poor Oscar's stuck in a room with Kevin."
Jim tried to calm his breathing. He was alone in the room with Pam until morning.
He glanced at the clock. 8:00 PM.