Previously: Tom bit his lower lip anxiously and looked down. He swiftly got up from the couch and speed-walked to the car. Jim fumed behind him. He would not have wanted to be Tom right now. He was still a bit angry from his mini dispute with Pam, and now he was doubly angry with Tommy.
What a day today was. What a day, He thought, shaking his head from the irony.
The car ride home was silent. You could have dropped a pin and heard it's high thud as it hit the dashboard, it was so quiet in there. Tom had chosen to sit in the backseat, as he was partial in keeping as much distance as possible between his fuming dad and himself. He bit his lower lip anxiously, knowing that whatever blow-up Jim was about to have was going to be good.
Jim's eyes focused on the road ahead. The streetlights had come on a couple hours ago, brightly illuminating the streets as the light bounced off the wet asphalt. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. Tom, kissing, Pam, Roy, Roy, ignorant Roy, Charlotte, Tom, making out.
"Hey dad?" Tom's voice was barely above a whisper. He glanced at Jim in the mirror and then averted his eyes when he saw that Jim was looking at him.
Jim sighed, heavily. "Yes, sport?"
"I'm sorry," Tom choked out, his eyes darting around the car unconsciously looking for an escape.
Jim's temper flared and he pulled to the side of the road, knowing that he was going to get in an accident if he started to yell.
"Tom, I have to ask you one question. What were you doing back there? Trying to get to know her?!"
"Go, dad, you're maniacal-"
"I'm maniacal?!" Jim spat out, anger coursing through his veins. "You're the one whom I found horizontal on the couch, buddy, not me!"
"Didn't you ever do what I did just then? Weren't you ever a teenager?" Tom said, equally as angry. "Didn't you ever make mistakes?"
Jim silenced and immediately and put the car in Drive. He got back on the road and drove the rest of the way as silent as it was before he had burst. Tom was slightly appalled at his father's lack of anger, but took it thankfully.
"Here we are. Our humble abode," Jim muttered as he pulled the keys out of the ignition. As soon as the car stopped, Tom frantically climbed out of it and ran to the front door. He pulled his key out of his pocket and hastily opened the front door, slamming it behind him. Jim sighed and opened it up again so he could go in.
This was going to be a long night.
Jim's heart was completely and utterly broken. It felt as if it had been ripped in half and stomped on. And let me tell you, that is not a pleasant feeling. His eyes filled with tears as he snuggled closer to his pillow. He was watching the clock, counting the minutes until he had to get up. He had not slept a wink yet, and was wide awake.
6:00 AM
His alarm clock made a low buzzing noise and he gently tapped it off. One sleepless night gone. His hand found it's way to the radio and turned it on.
Good morning, Scranton, Pennsylvania! Lovely weather today, we'll be seeing some clear skies. And here's a requested song, All My Loving, by the infamous band, The Beatles!
Close your eyes and I'll kiss you,
Tomorrow I'll miss you;
Remember I'll always be true.
And then while I'm away,
I'll write home every day,
And I'll send all my loving to you.
I'll pretend that I'm kissing
the lips I am missing
And hope that my dreams will come true.
And then while I'm away,
I'll write home every day,
And I'll send all my loving to you.
All my loving I will send to you.
All my loving, darling I'll be true.
Jim couldn't take it anymore. Whoever wrote that song had quite obviously never experienced heartbreak like he had. He groaned and slammed the radio off, forcing himself out of his warm bed. A couple minutes later he was dressed in his Saturday whatever clothes which consisted of jeans and a light green sweater, which he rolled up halfway. After combing his hair, he went down the hall to the kitchen.
Ding-dong.
Jim bugged his eyes out and looked at the clock. 7:01 AM. Who would be coming that early? He shook his head and made his way to the front door. What was coming next, he was not prepared for.
Dwight Shrute was standing on Jim's front doorstep, a package of blank printer paper in hand with the logo Shrute Bucks on it. Dwight's eyes widened slightly.
"Jim Halpert?" he whispered, in awe. Jim nodded and then grinned.
"Oh my god, Dwight. Hey, buddy, how are you?" Jim laughed and shook Dwight's hand. Dwight's eyes filled with unexpected tears. He grimaced in pleasure and pulled Jim into a bear hug.
"Jim Halpert. I thought I would go years and never see you again. Fact: I said before that I would not miss you if you left. But I take it back. Oh, Jim." Dwight sobbed into Jim's shirt and dropped his papers, still hugging him.
If it was possible for Jim's eyes to widen more, they would have. He softly pushed Dwight back a little. "Hey, hey. Don't cry."
Dwight slightly resembled a very ugly baby, crying there, tugging at Jim's shirt helplessly. Jim softly removed Dwight's fists from his sweater and let them hanging at Dwight's side. Dwight moaned and wiped away a stray tear. He quickly collected himself and became the old factual Dwight in seconds.
"So, Halpert," he flicked his head, imitating Jim. "What do you do nowadays?" Jim laughed at this imitation and quoted Dwight.
"Imitation is the best form of flattery, so I thank you," Jim said, trying to pull of a Dwight impression. Dwight obviously didn't find this as amusing as Jim did and he stopped his 'Jim' facade instantly.
"Well?" Dwight droned.
"Um..." he stalled. "I'm actually in advertising right now-"
"Really?" Dwight cut off, clearly intrigued by this.
"Um, yeah. I produce and direct commercials, small independent films, that sort of stuff," Jim finished proudly. When he was a kid he always wanted to be a director of big productions. Maybe someday. He was finally working up to it.
"Ah, that is very appreciable." Dwight waited a little bit, tapping his foot. Jim raised his eyebrows, knowing that Dwight wanted him to ask him what he did as a job.
"Hey, Dwight?" Dwight nodded. "What do you do for a job now?"
Dwight grinned and jumped in on the topic. "Well, I am so glad you asked. I am now operator and boss of my own paper company called Shrute Bucks." He excitedly reached down to grab the package of papers he dropped earlier. "It's a very successful paper company in downtown Scranton."
Jim raised his shoulders. "I've never heard of it..." he trailed off, deliberately knowing he was starting trouble.
Dwight pursed his lips. As quick as you could say "Battlestar Galactica" Dwight changed the subject. "Well, I was just coming door to door to sell paper. See, that's the personalized service you get at Shrute Bucks. It's just like Dunder Mifflin us-used to b-be." Dwight had broken down again, tears welling up in his eyes.
Ever since Dunder Mifflin Scranton had closed down, Dwight was a little sensitive about the topic. He loved Dunder Mifflin like a son and when it closed he was heartbroken.
"Hey, hey," Jim muttered again, patting Dwight's shoulder. "It's okay. I bet Shrute Bucks will be just as great or even better."
Dwight uttered something incoherent between tears and pulled Jim into a hug again. Jim hugged him back and peered around his old coworker's spine, looking to see if anyone was on the street. His throat constricted as he saw Pam, clad in pajamas, running straight towards his house. He immediately extracted himself from Dwight's hold and looked down.
Pam sprinted up to Jim and looked down at her feet also, her hands fiddling with a lose string on her flannel pink pajamas. Her chest was heaving from having run so far and tears pricked her eyes.
"Jim-" Pam said at the same time that Jim said "Pam-" They both blushed and looked at each other.
"Pam," Dwight breathed and he gave Pam a hug. Pam pulled back and looked at who was hugging her.
"Oh my god, Dwight!" She squealed. Jim shrugged his shoulders as Pam stared at him from the hug, grinning slightly.
"Wow, lots of hugs today," Jim observed.
"I'm sorry, Dwight. I didn't see you!" Pam freed herself from Dwight's hold and looked back at Jim.
"Go ahead to what you where saying," Dwight said, after he had wiped his tears.
"Well, Jim-" Pam started before she was rudely cut off again.
"Dwightster! What's taking so long, buddy?" A way too familiar voice echoed out of Dwight's car. A fairly short man stepped out and straightened his tie. He kept his head down to avoid the sun getting in his eyes, but strolled down Jim's pathway. He finally made it to the group and looked up into a couple of shocked faces.
"Jim?"
"Pam?"
"Dwight?"
"Michael?!"
AN: Haha, there you go. Dwight and Michael! Yay! And if you are wondering who is saying the names at the bottom: Jim and Pam say Michael, Michael says Jim, Pam, and Dwight (he says Dwight for clarification that they really are Jim and Pam) and Dwight says nothing, but stands there, beaming. Sorry for the long wait, guys, but I made it extra long and special! Tell me what you thought!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Office or All My Loving by The Beatles.
