Author's note: Hey guys! Storytime: my brother's been out of town for a couple weeks, and he just got back today. So I thought that I wouldn't have any time to do anything fanfiction-wise, cause any free time I had would be spent hanging out with him. But, turns out that he missed a lot of his team's basketball games while he was gone. And so he's just been watching them on our DVR all. day. And I really don't like professional sports. Especially his team. San Antonio Spurs? Okay, fine. Maybe they're a good team. And maybe some of you like them. But we have no connections to San Antonio. haha. I thought you were supposed to like the team from your state/city? Whatever. Sports are so lame. Anyway, I really had no desire to watch basketball with him, so I just got on here and wrote. And wrote. And edited. And wrote. I'm up to like chapter 23 of this story, and I started two others (probably won't post them until I'm done with this one, though. One's mainly about Jim and the other's another Ryan/Pam, cause... duh :) so lookout for those if I get bored and decide to upload them!). And THEN I realized something: this story is getting way long. And it'll probably get way longer. Maybe I should just stop writing so many cutsey little filler things (kind of like this chapter?) and get down to the "real" parts of the story. But I really like the cutesy little filler things. gah I don't know. I guess I'm just going to ask those of you that read this thang on a regular basis: do you think the story is moving too slowly? Maybe I'm reading too much into this or something, but I've had a lot of time to think about the last couple hours while I was pretending to be interested in Tony Parker's free throw stats. :D I'm probably just going to keep writing to my little heart's desire anyway, but if some of you think I should just get down to business maybe I'll take that into consideration. Because, of course, this is all for you :) Aaaand.. end storytime.

Mk, so. This is The Initiation again. And the next flashback chapter is too. hahah. But come on! That episode was a loooong day :D

Ryan muttered incessantly to himself as he walked toward what he hoped was the Dunder Mifflin office. In reality, he was wandering around in an old beet patch, but he liked to think he was storming away somewhere "important." As important as Dunder Mifflin is, of course. He heard a car pull up on the dirt road beside him, and his grumblings only increased in volume as he realized who must have been driving it.

"Ryan, come on. I'm sorry. I am sorry. Mose is sorry too. Look, he sent over a basket with eggs and some fat-back bacon. And look, something he whittled!" Ryan sighed and took a moment to glance at the foreign, and inappropriate, he soon discovered, item. Dwight called out more of what he thought must be apologies, and Ryan eventually made his way to the passenger side. He slammed the door shut, and sat in silence, anger-filled tension radiating from his thin form. "As safety officer, I insist that you put your seat belt on before I start this automobile." Ryan rolled his eyes and slammed the seat belt into its buckle before returning to stew in his own despise for his coworker.

Dwight attempted to fill the painful silence with what he thought were interesting facts about the different species of mammals that lived in the mighty forests of Pennsylvania. Ryan simply scoffed at his "superior's" efforts at conversation and turned his attention to the open fields rushing by his window. Suddenly he was reminded of his freshman year of high school, his father trying to bond with him while driving around town in an embarrassing minivan. He shuddered at the thought of Dwight being his father in this situation.

"You still mad?" the beet farmer asked, snapping Ryan out of his uncomfortable day dream. "It's just… Jim and I didn't get along, and I didn't want it to be that way again. You know, I wanted us to be a team. An unstoppable team that competed against other teams." Oh, so Dwight was trying to be his friend. Ryan didn't know which thought made him more depressed; Dwight being his father, or his best friend. He decided that neither concept was appealing.

"Look, that… That's not what I wanted, okay? I just wanted to go on a sales call."

"Ugh, screw gun," Dwight interrupted, pulling an extremely dangerous u-turn on the busiest street in Scranton. Ryan immediately grabbed the armrest beside him with all the strength he had, sending a panicked glance to the cameraman in the backseat. He knew Dwight Shrute would eventually be the death of him, but he always figured it would be because Dwight snuck into his bedroom with a bazooka at night, or cloned a wolverine and brought it to the office. Never just a "simple" car accident. "The sales call!"

"Wha-- You forgot the sales call?"

"Just… Zip your lid!" Dwight replied, flailing his right arm in an attempt to calm Ryan down. "Okay, here are a few things to remember when you get inside." Ryan sighed and returned his attention to the window to his right. Whatever Dwight was about to say probably had something to do with beets, and Ryan knew that wouldn't help him in the slightest. He let thoughts of Pam run through his mind as he prepared to ignore his coworker's advice. "Establish time frames. Keep the phrase 'real dollars' in their heads. And always keep the power in the conversation." Dwight was getting more frantic with each sentence. Ryan hated to interrupt his thoughts of the cute receptionist, but he had a tiny nagging feeling that what Dwight was yelling about might be useful. "That's why you're losing them on the cold calls! Cause you say the word 'please' too much!" Ryan reluctantly snapped out of his mind and pulled a pad of paper from his briefcase.

"Wait, can you go back?"

"Michael always said, K.I.S.S. Keep it simple, stupid. Great advice, hurts my feelings every time." Ryan took a moment to glance back at the camera with a knowing expression before writing the rest of Dwight's tips. Soon enough, they pulled into a parking space, and Dwight was hopping out of the car with a little too much enthusiasm. Ryan, suddenly overcome with nervousness, stumbled out of the passenger seat, grabbing his briefcase before shutting the door. "What are you going to do, kid?"

"Okay," he stammered. "I'm going to establish time frames."

"Good."

"I'm going to put everything in terms of 'real dollars.'"

"Right."

"I'm going to ask a lot of questions that all have sort of positive answers," Dwight nodded beside him. "Saying, that would be better, or we would like that. That sort of thing."

"Yes! Exactly!"

"I'm going to try to be confident, but not cocky."

"Yeah, well. Good luck with that one," Dwight muttered, stealing a glance at the camera.

"Wait, what?" Ryan stuttered. Before he had time to continue, a pudgy man exited his office and came to greet them.

"Mr. Winston. Hello," Dwight announced loudly, extending his arm for a handshake. "Dwight Schrute, Assistant Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin, Scranton. At your service."

"To the," Ryan coughed. Dwight snapped his head around to glare at Ryan.

"Uh, temp. Rule four."

Be confident, not cocky. "Right," Ryan muttered to himself before bravely stepping forth to shake his (hopefully) future client's hand. "Hello, sir. I'm Ryan Howard."

"Ryan, nice to meet you. Henry Winston. Why don't you gentlemen come into my office so we can chat?" Ryan nodded and followed Dwight into a fairly large room. He swallowed loudly and willed his hands to stop shaking. His senior coworker patted him on the back before grabbing a seat.

"You've got this one."

That seemed to be the little push he needed to get through this meeting. Well, that and Pam's shining eyes as he left the Dunder Mifflin office. "Make me proud." He was sure going to try.

Ryan forced the front door open as Dwight was saying his goodbyes. "They really didn't like me."

"No they did not," the beet farmer replied, catching up to him. "They didn't have to say it to your face."

"I don't get it," he groaned, suddenly sounding desperate. "I don't get what I did wrong."

"Not everything's a lesson, Ryan. Sometimes you just fail." Ryan rolled his eyes at his coworker's attempt to be sympathetic. Yeah, I just failed. That's real helpful, Dwight. I'll just go back to the office empty-handed and tell Pam that I simply "failed." There's no reason why I couldn't have landed this sale, other than the fact that I merely didn't.

Oh, God. Pam.

He was going to have to go back to that office without anything to tell her. After she told him to make her proud. This certainly wouldn't make her proud. I mean, Jim made tons of sales every single day! Why would she be impressed with him when he couldn't even begin to fill Jim's shoes?

But why is he comparing himself to Jim, anyway? It's like comparing… apples and oranges. The only thing they have in common was that they were both in love with Pam.

Wait--he didn't mean that. He's certainly not in love with Pam. That would be crazy. Not to mention pathetic. It would be completely and utterly pathetic for him to fall in love with her, since she's so obviously interested in someone else. In Jim. Having a crush on Pam while she's in love with someone else would be more like Jim than Ryan ever wanted to be. He hated Jim. He just couldn't figure out… why.

Suddenly Ryan was filled with a complicated mixture of anger, sadness, worry, and pity. Pity for himself. For being such a loser. He couldn't make one sale, when Jim made… No, he's not going there again. He's worried about having to walk into that office later and inform a hopeful Pam… Michael. A hopeful Michael that he had failed once more. He couldn't figure out why he was sad or angry. Because… he lost the sale? Yeah, must be it. Certainly not because of his feelings for a certain receptionist and the man she was desperately in love with. Because, of course, he didn't have feelings for any receptionist.

Of course not.