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crack_van2013-12-16 09:59 am
stars-inthe-sky.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2013-12-16 09:59 am
Entry tags:
“Borneo” by sophia_helix (PG-13)
Fandom: THE OFFICE
Pairing: Pam Beesley/Jim Halpert
Length: 4,800 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sophia_helix
Author Website: Tumblr | Dreamwidth
Why this must be read: It’s been a while since this fic was rendered AU (it’s dated summer 2006, just post-“Casino Night”), but it’s a sweet and believable take on our favorite couple’s interactions after that one magic moment. Rather than the angsty, angry route these sorts of stories usually take (not to mention canon), “Borneo” mixes the office-buddy element of their relationship with the romance elements flawlessly, and finds a genuine and genuinely happy meeting in the middle. The usual Dunder-Mifflin shenanigans are, of course, excellent background color.
Dwight is installing the new World of Warcraft when Jim gets in on Monday, and Pam has called in sick. He puts his stuff down and goes to the breakroom, where the coffee is tepid and kind of greasy-tasting because someone used the last coffee filter as a bowl for microwave popcorn. He drinks his salty coffee black, then goes back out to the bullpen.
Michael isn't in his office. Dwight is spinning the CD on his finger, watching the progress bar move on his screen.
"No," says Dwight.
"What?"
"No, you cannot join my guild. It's for experienced, advanced night-elf rogues only."
"I have ... no idea why I should care that I don't know what you're talking about."
"That's fine, shield your wounded dignity. It won't get you onto the Quenya Force."
Jim opens up Outlook and sifts through the three thousand emails he gets every weekend. Angela is subscribed to some inspirational mailing list and keeps forwarding it to the office group. Some of the field rep guys are having problems distinguishing between the "contains recycled material" and "100% recycled pulp" product lines. Kevin sent three emails asking if anyone wanted to come see his band open for a Steely Dan tribute band on Sunday afternoon, because if so he could get them on the guest list. Stanley asked four times if Angela would please stop forwarding email that has nothing to do with him.
There's only one email from Michael, for a change, and the subject header says "My Deepest Thanks" which is sufficiently weird to make Jim open it up.
It says "Dear Jan: I just wanted to thank you for expressing your touching appreciation for our branch via your presence at Casino Night. I know I speak for all my wonderful employees when I say that you are like the shining, asexual personification of corporate presence at Dunder-Mifflin Scranton. Carol was telling me over breakfast this morning that she could sense your devotion to fiscal efficiency, and also that you had a nice suit. I will look forward to many more breakfast conversations with Carol about your business elan. Yours, Michael Scott. P.S. I would also enjoy breakfast conversations with you about Carol's savvy in the real estate industry! How do you feel about Carrow's?"
Jim notes that Michael still doesn't know how to use his address book.
***
Hi, it's Jim. They made Ryan do your job today, and I'm very sorry to say he's gotten peanut shells all over your desk. I tried to tell him that you're deathly allergic to peanuts and that just touching a spot where a peanut touched could send you into anaphylactic shock, but I don't think he believed me. I tried to convince him to answer the phone by saying "Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam," but by that point he was just giving me a really weird look. I also don't think he liked it when I tried to give him advice on his solitaire game.
Um.
Borneo
Pairing: Pam Beesley/Jim Halpert
Length: 4,800 words
Author on LJ:
sophia_helixAuthor Website: Tumblr | Dreamwidth
Why this must be read: It’s been a while since this fic was rendered AU (it’s dated summer 2006, just post-“Casino Night”), but it’s a sweet and believable take on our favorite couple’s interactions after that one magic moment. Rather than the angsty, angry route these sorts of stories usually take (not to mention canon), “Borneo” mixes the office-buddy element of their relationship with the romance elements flawlessly, and finds a genuine and genuinely happy meeting in the middle. The usual Dunder-Mifflin shenanigans are, of course, excellent background color.
Dwight is installing the new World of Warcraft when Jim gets in on Monday, and Pam has called in sick. He puts his stuff down and goes to the breakroom, where the coffee is tepid and kind of greasy-tasting because someone used the last coffee filter as a bowl for microwave popcorn. He drinks his salty coffee black, then goes back out to the bullpen.
Michael isn't in his office. Dwight is spinning the CD on his finger, watching the progress bar move on his screen.
"No," says Dwight.
"What?"
"No, you cannot join my guild. It's for experienced, advanced night-elf rogues only."
"I have ... no idea why I should care that I don't know what you're talking about."
"That's fine, shield your wounded dignity. It won't get you onto the Quenya Force."
Jim opens up Outlook and sifts through the three thousand emails he gets every weekend. Angela is subscribed to some inspirational mailing list and keeps forwarding it to the office group. Some of the field rep guys are having problems distinguishing between the "contains recycled material" and "100% recycled pulp" product lines. Kevin sent three emails asking if anyone wanted to come see his band open for a Steely Dan tribute band on Sunday afternoon, because if so he could get them on the guest list. Stanley asked four times if Angela would please stop forwarding email that has nothing to do with him.
There's only one email from Michael, for a change, and the subject header says "My Deepest Thanks" which is sufficiently weird to make Jim open it up.
It says "Dear Jan: I just wanted to thank you for expressing your touching appreciation for our branch via your presence at Casino Night. I know I speak for all my wonderful employees when I say that you are like the shining, asexual personification of corporate presence at Dunder-Mifflin Scranton. Carol was telling me over breakfast this morning that she could sense your devotion to fiscal efficiency, and also that you had a nice suit. I will look forward to many more breakfast conversations with Carol about your business elan. Yours, Michael Scott. P.S. I would also enjoy breakfast conversations with you about Carol's savvy in the real estate industry! How do you feel about Carrow's?"
Jim notes that Michael still doesn't know how to use his address book.
***
Hi, it's Jim. They made Ryan do your job today, and I'm very sorry to say he's gotten peanut shells all over your desk. I tried to tell him that you're deathly allergic to peanuts and that just touching a spot where a peanut touched could send you into anaphylactic shock, but I don't think he believed me. I tried to convince him to answer the phone by saying "Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam," but by that point he was just giving me a really weird look. I also don't think he liked it when I tried to give him advice on his solitaire game.
Um.
Borneo