Summary: Romance is setting hearts a flutter all over the office. As always, awkwardness ensues...and what's going on in the supply closet?
Special notes: I have no idea what the number one song was on February 2, 1983, but I am certain it was not 'Safety Dance.' I heard it on the radio the other day, and I could just imagine Michael doing that weird dance that they do in the music video.
It's Only Temporary
The fact that it was temporary was probably the only reason he was able to get out of bed in the morning. He wasn't stuck there forever. He wouldn't spend the rest of his days being at Michael Scott's every beck and call. In fact, he could leave whenever he wanted to. The only reason he didn't was because he needed the extra cash while he was in school. His days at Dunder-Mifflin were numbered, and that thought alone was all it took for him to roll over and turn off his alarm.
However, when Ryan had glanced out the window this morning, it had been enough to make him want to pull the pillow over his head and go back to sleep. The weather outside was miserable and it took all the strength he could muster to crawl out of bed and step onto the cold floor. The ominous weather made him certain that it was going to be an awful day.
At work, things just got worse. He had barely stepped through the door when he had been called into Michael's office. He walked in and nearly collided with Michael, who was wearing a hat with some kind of beaver or something on it.
"Hey bud! How's it going pal? Wait before you say anything, check this out," Michael promptly started flailing his arms and whispering, "S-s-s-s-A-a-a-a-F-f-f-f…" Ryan cleared his throat, grimacing. Michael, of course, didn't notice.
"Oh yeah…I loved that in 1983…when I was three…" his voice trailed off. Michael didn't seem to hear him as he laughed hysterically. Ryan glanced at the camera, waiting for him to stop.
"I was checking out the web today and saw that it was the number one song on this day, back in 1983. You know what that's from, right? Saaaafty daaance." Ryan shifted uncomfortably.
"Yeah...I got that," he mumbled under his breath.
"What's that?"
"I like your hat."
"Why thank you, just felt like being a little festive today. Any who, listen, I'm trying to pick out some curtains for my living room and I want your opinion. Okay, these are the two I'm trying to decide between…which one do you like?" He held out a catalog and pointed to two different pictures. Ryan was pretty sure they were exactly the same.
"Uh…I don't—I really don't think…" he paused before adding, "No." He shook his head and looked at the ground. There was something so disturbing about the thought of picking out curtains with his boss. Michael folded his arms and frowned at him.
"All you have to do is say which one you like better," Ryan shook his head again. Leave it to Michael to make him feel so uncomfortable that he wished the walls would close in on him.
"You know, I really don't think I'm um…qualified. Why don't you ask Pam or Angela…? They'd probably know more about it than I would." Michael's frown deepened. He leaned againist his desk, squinting at Ryan.
"Okay…you should get back to work. I don't like people slacking off. In fact, have you even done one thing since you walked in the door? I really don't want to have to contact the temp agency."
"But you called m—"
"No excuses Ryan. Back to work." Ryan turned with a sigh and left the room. This was turning out to be a pretty lousy day.
He had been sitting at his desk for all of ten minutes when Dwight had marched up to him and demanded,
"Hey temp, guess what today is?" Ryan blinked.
"Monday?" he ventured, resisting a tremendous urge to roll his eyes. Dwight literally stomped his feet. He folded his arms across his chest, pouting.
"Wrong!" he exclaimed, "Try again." Dwight's beady eyes were staring at him so intensely it made him cringe.
"Uh…" he glanced at the calendar. Groundhog's Day was written in small letters below the date. Michael's hat suddenly made sense. "Oh! Um, Groundhog's Day." He glanced up at Dwight. Please let him go away. Please let him go away. Dwight narrowed his eyes.
"What is WRONG with everyone!" he spun around abruptly and stalked off to his desk, but not before turning around and shooting Ryan a nasty look.
His cell phone rang, loud and shrill. Glancing at the caller ID, he smiled. Here was the one thing he had been looking forward to today.
"Hello?" he asked, a broad grin spreading across his face.
"Hey Ryan!" a friendly, female voice exclaimed. "Its me."
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"I guess you could say I'm seeing someone. I haven't quite told anyone here…only because I can just imagine how well it would go over…considering—well just considering."
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"Hey there. How's it going?" he asked. He was speaking quietly, trying to be subtle. He didn't want anyone to overhear him. He glanced around. No one was paying him any attention. Just the way he liked it.
"So," he continued, "Are we still on for lunch today?"
"We sure are. I should be there around one…is it alright if I just come on up?"
"Uh…no, no. Don't bother coming all the way up here," he stammered, "I'll just meet you in the parking lot, okay? I think it's a little too early to— I'll meet you downstairs, alright?" She sighed, sounding a bit irritated.
"Okay Ryan. I know you don't want them to, but they're going to find out sooner or later that you're dating someone."
"There's no reason for them too. They don't pay me any attention. I'm pretty sure Michael's the only one that actually refers to me by my name."
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"I actually don't mind that everyone calls me 'temp.' Or in Kevin's case, 'tempy.' Really doesn't bother me. In fact, I think it's better if I don't become too involved with this place. By not calling me by my name, they're admitting they don't accept me in their world. And I don't accept them in mine," he paused for a moment, thinking. A horrified look spread across his face, as he suddenly realized something, "Oh god, unless it's like a nickname!"
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The day crept by, slower than ever. He thought there must be something wrong with the clock, because every time he looked at it,the hands had barely moved. He glanced around the room, examining everyone. Pam was sitting at her desk, absently biting her nails. Every now and then she would glance over in Jim's direction, who seemed to be staring at absolutely nothing on his computer screen. Ryan was pretty good at reading people. He had known in his first week that Jim had something for Pam. Just from the way they were treating each other today, he was pretty sure something must have happened over the weekend, besides the whole Jeopardy thing. He watched as Jim stood and hesitated, appearing as though he might sit back down. But he shook his head and walked over to Pam's desk. He smiled at her weakly, and they began conversing in low tones. Something definitely must have happened.
His attention turned to Kelly who was talking on the phone and making large, animated gestures with her hands. She was cute, and for a while he thought there might be something between them. They had chatted a few times, and at Jim's barbeque they had spent the entire night hanging out together. But then, about a month ago she had come up to him and said, "You better milk it for all its worth, because you have about three more years of hair! Do I see it receding some? Hey! You and Michael could start some kind of club." She may have only been teasing, but they definitely didn't know each other well enough for her to say something like that. Besides, being compared to Michael was as bad as insulting someone's mother. Then again, maybe he was just being too sensitive. He reached up and touched his hair self-consciously. He was not balding.
The accounting department appeared to be working busily. Every few minutes Angela would glance up at the picture of her two cats and turn her lips upward in a smile-like motion. However, it couldn't really be called a smile because Angela did not smile. Ever. He could not imagine being wound that tight. He would probably end up shooting himself within a week. He glanced at Kevin, who was reaching for a large handful of m&m's. It was strange. The supply of candy in Kevin's huge jar never dwindled. It was always at the same level. He must keep bags and bags in his desk drawers; however, Ryan had yet to see him refill it.
He cast a hopeful glance at the clock. It was 12:30, and everyone was either leaving to go out for lunch or heading to the break room. In about five minutes he was going to head downstairs. Just to be on the safe side.
By 12:37, he was the only one left at a desk besides Creed who was sitting across the room, with his back to Ryan, eating a sandwich. Ryan reached for his bag, searching for his keys. He was still rummaging through it when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped and turned around.
"You're here!" he exclaimed, glancing around the room. Creed was the only one still there, but he wasn't paying them any attention. He sighed in relief. "What are you doing here? You're early!" he had a look on his face that he hoped would be interpreted as happily surprised.
"Well, I got here a little early, and I decided to come up, silly. Gosh," she teased, "You don't have to look so happy to see me." He laughed nervously.
"Well, are you ready to go?" he asked quickly, "We should probably head out," he couldn't help looking around the room anxiously. He really did not want anyone to see them.
"Sure. Hey, you want to drive?" she asked, grinning broadly at him.
"Yeah. I can't find my keys though." He looked around his empty desk before it dawned on him. He had set them down in the supply closet when he had been looking for post-it notes. His cell phone had rung, and he had rummaged through his pockets searching for it. "I forgot. I left them in the supply closet." He turned to the back corner of the office, and she followed.
"Okay. Sure. I would love a tour of the supply closet," he turned and grinned at her before glancing around the room one more time. No one was around. They could probably spare a minute. Besides, she'd probably just get upset if he told her to go wait in the car.
He opened the door and didn't bother flicking on the light; she was holding the door open. He gestured with his arm,
"This is the supply closet, where you can find anything your heart desires, as long as its produced by an office store, including but not limited to: Staples, Office Max, Office Depot,--or my personal favorite--Uncle Oliver's Office Emporium. A necklace for the pretty lady?" he held up a chain of paper clips. Someone must have been bored when they were organizing the closet. She smiled at him.
"I accept," she said and he reached to fasten it around her neck. "How do I look?" she asked, posing for him, and of course looking absolutely adorable.
"Wonderful," he replied laughing at her. She let the door slide shut. "Oops. Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all.
"That's okay," he replied nonchalantly, reaching for the light. He was surprised when he felt her hands on his chest, slamming him into the shelf, which shook dangerously. He swallowed nerviously. "What are you doing?" he whispered. She was inches away from him.
"Nothing," she replied innocently, before kissing him.
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Kevin headed to the supply closet, his stomach full from the meatball sub he had had at lunch. A bad idea, he knew now, as he felt his stomach grumble. He was looking for his chain of paper clips he had made that morning while organizing the supply closet. It was really long. He was definitely saving this one.
He opened the door and gasped.
"Whoa…purse girl?" he looked at the person she had her arms wrapped around, "Tempy?" he asked, sounding confused.
Ryan groaned. His jacket was off, his shirt half-unbuttoned, and his tie was askew. Needless to say, he was not presentable. He quickly thought of any excuses that might explain their compromising position.There were none. It wasn't like he could pretend they had just gone for a stroll in the closet--and what? He had tripped and fallen on her lips? Or it was hot so they decided to take off some layers, then suddenly had gotten cold and huddled together for warmth? He should have known better to go into a dark closet with a beautiful girl. Where had his levelhead gone to? He looked around the room. Lunch, apparently, was over. Everyone was staring at them, mouths agape. He immediately looked to Jim, whose expression was unreadable.
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"No, I don't care about Ryan and Katy. Really I don't. I haven't seen her in ages. I have other things on my mind right now. I mean he didn't have to ask me or anything. It's not like we're friends…so the code doesn't really apply," Jim paused for a moment, "Come to think of it he did mention something at my party. I said we'd talk about it later, but we never got around to it. Whatever. Yep. I'm cool with it. No problem…"
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"Kevin, shut the door!" Ryan finally exclaimed. Kevin smiled suggestively before doing so. Ryan turned on the light and faced Katy.
"Okay…so not quite how I wanted everyone to find out," he frowned, smoothing his hair and fixing his shirt. She just smiled.
"Oh Ryan, lighten up. It's not that big a deal. Besides, did you see the look on Jim's face?" She reached for his collar, but he pulled away.
"Not that big a deal? Katy, I work here! These people are my colleagues! We're adults. Not a bunch of teenagers at an unsupervised party," he shook his head. He went to say something else, but stopped abruptly as it suddenly dawned on him. .
"Wait a minute. You planned all this didn't you?"
"Oh Ryan, don't be such a drama queen," she flashed him a smile, "Come on, let's get out of—" he cut her off.
"You did! You knew this would happen! That's why you were so persistant about coming up here. You just wanted to get back at Jim for what he did to you on the booze cruise! Unbelievable. I cannot believe I fell for that. Here I was thinking you genuinely like me." She sighed and looked at the floor.
"Listen Ryan, you're a great guy—"
"No, I don't want to hear it. I'm out of here," he threw open the door, nearly colliding with Dwight and Michael who had their ears pressed to the door. He shoved past them and went straight to his desk. He didn't even look up as he heard her leave. The whole room was deathly silent until finally Michael exclaimed,
"Score!" he applauded, but the only person who joined in was Dwight. Ryan buried his head in his hands. He could not be any more embarrassed. He felt someone beside him and groaned inwardly as he glanced up and saw it was Michael.
"Normally," Michael began, "I would have to take some action against that little display in there…but WOW, she is smokin' so…no harm done," he slapped Ryan on the back, and winked as he backed away. "Tell me all about later," he said grinning.
Everyone was returning to their work. This had turned out to be the worst day ever. Getting caught making out in the supply closet with a co-worker's ex-girlfriend was pretty high on the list of things not to do at work. Right up there with violating your temp, which Michael had done on several occasions. Ryan saw a shadow over him.
"Way to go Tempy." Kevin said. He stood there for a moment, smiling, before turning and leaving.
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"I mentioned a while ago that while I was here, I didn't want a 'thing.' Well that all went out the window with the whole toaster incident. First I was the 'Fire Guy,' now I'm the 'In-The-Closet Guy.'" He paused for a moment, considering this. "Wait. That is not what I meant."
