The Road Less Travelled

by Presca

DISCLAIMER - This is a Pam/Michael story, yes, it is a romance. Now if you're not into that - please stop now, but if you're curious, give it a read. I tried to stay loyal to the series and keep the characters in voice and situation. Yes, I did borrow the business trip idea and some moments from The Lecture Circuit as well as a bit from Business School that you will see later on. Also, I will try to insert proper places in Pennsylvania that they visit as they go - please be aware, I've only seen Pennsylvania once in my life when I was travelling too - so I don't know these places first hand that much. Also, I did change a few things from the show to make the story work - like the structure of Michael's PT Cruiser, which you'll see. I do not own the characters in the story for the exception of Teri Richards, my own creation. They are the sole property of NBC Studios. Thanks and I hope you enjoy the story. This is only the first part, there will be much more to come.

Scranton, Pennsylvania – hardly the centre of the universe, but it was the only world that Pam Beesly knew. She sat at the helm of the Dunder Mifflin branch in town, aka the reception desk – the eyes, and the ears of the company. And, today the company needed a seeing eye dog as folks around her seemed to be half asleep. As usual.

Pam played with the calendar on her desk and tried to keep her mind off the fact that it was the anniversary to the day that Jim Halpert called from the Stamford branch to tell her he wasn't returning and happy with his new life and the new woman in it – Karen.

Karen? Where the hell did this Karen person come from anyhow? What did she look like? Who cares! Good riddance! I hope you're happy with him, you can have him!

But, as she sat there, she knew her heart didn't believe that.

She cursed lightly under her breath and tried to divert her attention by looking around the office. Dwight seemed to be the only one really working, though admittedly he did sneak coveted glances at the accountant across the room – Angela Martin. Their relationship wasn't a secret to Pam, but she didn't let on to anyone else as she knew what revealing this sort of thing in this atmosphere did to a person.

Like instinct, she glanced up to her immediate left to the office's biggest gossip – her boss Michael Scott. What would he do to erupt into his babble of political incorrectness at the sight of the frustrated glances? He wasn't, however, doing anything of the sort – his rapt attention was strangely focused on his desk, silently playing with some toy he'd recently acquired.

Pam smiled slightly at Michael despite herself when he caught her eye. He waved in a half-hearted manner and then flung his little squeeze head toy across the desk to the floor.

She knew a signal when she saw one – he was looking for a rescue intervention – in fact, she needed one too.

Scooping up a handful of documents on her desk that Michael never seemed to want to sign, she walked around the area enclosing her reception desk and into Michael's closed office.

"Michael?" she asked, timidly as she came in. It seemed to be an unspoken right she had that no one else did, to come in whenever she wished – unless Jan was in the office with him.

"Hey Pam," Michael whispered, without emotion – his attention still absorbed by the inanimate object on the floor.

She wasn't used to seeing him like this – unless he had a fight with…

Uh oh.

"So, I was –" Pam tried to offer her contracts when her boss cut her off.

"What is wrong with life?! With women?! Answer me that!"

"Umm…" Pam hesitated, feeling almost as if it was an attack on her whole sex – which it was.

"I mean – so I didn't want to lick strawberry oil off Jan's butt – I wasn't in the mood alright! She starts calling me animal names and…"

Pam blushes wildly despite herself and thrusts her folders high above her head. "Contracts!!"

But, he acted like she wasn't even in the room.

"…She said it's over – I'm useless to her and this morning she was packing her things."

"I'm sorry, Michael," Pam muttered in sympathy.

Apparently, she wasn't the only one having a bad year.

"I don't want to go home tonight. It's so depressing going home to an empty house," he whispered, covering his eyes with his hand.

"I know what that's like," Pam replied.

"Yeah, right – must suck to know the new girl is banging your boyfriend!' Michael answered, cavalierly.

Pam made a face of disgust. "He's not my boyfriend!"

"You miss him?" Michael interjected, his tone softer.

"A little…"

"I doubt Dwight does –"

Pam had to laugh at that as she glanced over at him, trying to seem oblivious to those around him.

"Probably not," she giggled. "Michael, I have some con-"

"Jim was so – I don't know – with it, wasn't he? Do you ever call him?"

Pam felt like she didn't want to go on with this conversation.

"I'd rather not."

"Yeah, probably get into it with corporate – bunch of slags!" Michael muttered, obviously thinking of Jan still. "Speaking of slags – they want me to take a business trip to Pittsburgh. Some conference thingamiggy to drum up more business…"

He made a gagging motion with his finger down his throat.

Pam smiled. "That's great, Michael – maybe we can finally get new chairs."

"Hey!" he said suddenly. "Why don't you come with me?"

She stared at him in disbelief, her mouth literally hanging open. Alone – on the road – with – Michael – Scott. She had to get out of this.

"Actually, as nice as I'm sure that would be, I have to visit my mom that weekend."

As the words left her mouth, she already saw her mistake.

"But, you don't even know when it is!" he complained, his face gave away his feeling of rejection almost immediately.

"That's true – but," Pam protested, but was once again cut off.

"It's OK," he mumbled, averting his eyes.

"Michael –" Pam replied, but it was too late – the damage had been done.

"I'm not doing really great with the ladies today, but that's fine – I'll ask Dwight. I'm sure he'll kill at the conference. Though – not as good as me!"

He gave a hollow laugh. Pam felt a pang of regret in her heart.

She put the contracts in front of him. "These have to be signed."

Without witnessing it, she left them on his desk and quickly left the office.

(Quarter past five that night):

Pam turned the phones onto the message system as she gathered up her coat from the rack nearby. She wished she hadn't worn such light clothing for this kind of weather as the wind outside rattled a nearby window momentarily. She wore a simple outfit of her favorite peach cardigan, a light linen blouse over a simple tweed skirt. It was appropriate for work, buttoned down – unsuggestive. The way she liked it. But, her coat did little to convince her to brave the cold outside for at least a couple more minutes.

She rummaged in her purse for the keys to the main office as she came around her desk. Everyone else had since left, but as she walked past Jim's desk – she hesitated. Touching his ice-cold monitor and seeing his empty chair reminded her of his absence. She felt her eyes starting to well up, but stopped herself.

That's when she saw a faint glow of something coming from Michael's office and could make out his outline by his dimmed desk light. He was still here.

Going over to his door, this time she knocked.

"Come in," she heard him whisper.

She walked in to see him, his eyes red – obviously crying. He cleared his nose with a quick swipe of the back of his hand.

"Oh Michael…" Pam replied, her heart went out to him.

"Th – those papers took longer to sign than I thought," he excused. "You heading home?"

"It's closing time. I have to lock up – unless you want to?"

"Nah, I'm ready to go, I guess. We can take care of business tomorrow, right?"

"Right!' She answered, trying to sound optimistic. But, she sounded false and knew it.

"Yeah," Michael mumbled and shook his head as if to ward off his thoughts.

He stood up to gather his dark black overcoat. He always wore dark, it was a power ploy of all the best managers – that look of authority. He made sure he knew the best tailors in town and it always showed in his clothes – with his expensive ties, shirts and jackets, as well as a fine pair of pants – he cut a handsome figure.

"Hey," he said to Pam suddenly feeling confident. "Can I walk you to your car?"

"I'd like that, actually – it's scary out there at this time of the night."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about me, I'll be fine!"

As usual, Michael had missed the point entirely. They left the office, Pam locked the door as she did and they wandered across the dimly lit parking lot together, only a few cars breezed by on the nearby road – other than that they were entirely alone and could hear each other's footsteps as they hit the pavement.

As they approached their two cars side by side near the building, Pam stopped to admire Michael's car.

"I love your new PT Cruiser, Michael – when did you get it?"

The red vehicle, stylish in it's own right, seemed to gleam under the street lights.

"This old thing? Only a few months ago, I was hoping for a new convertible, but they managed to wrangle me into getting this one."

"It's nice."

They shared a brief smile when with a few steps, Pam stood by her own car next to his. It was a lot less flashy, but it was hers and it got her to where she needed to go.

"We're like the only two cars in the entire parking lot…" Michael replied, stating the obvious.

Pam buried herself further in her little tweed coat too thin for the weather, she could see her breath on the air. "Yep!"

Michael was still hedging. "So what happened with you and Roy?"

She began to curse him a bit, she was freezing. "Oh, it's nothing – we just realized we were too different for one another…"

"Ah…"

"Yeah…"

Silence – at this point, she was never getting home.

"Well, I better be going," Pam excused, reaching for her door.

"I'll get corporate to not only pay for new chairs but to send you to art school!"

Pam looked up at Michael in shock. His eyes were full of a mixture of hope and fear as if he couldn't stand one more rejection.

"Please," he whispered, a puff of frozen air escaping his lips. His hazel eyes looked softer somehow and Pam knew – like always – that she had lost to Michael again.

But, there was also the fact that he knew about her love for art and it surprised her frankly.

"OK!" She replied. "I'll go with you."

Michael practically cheered. "Really – well – cool!"

Pam smiled. "Goodnight, Michael."

"Goodnight."

As she got in her car, waiting for Michael to back out first, she could see him waving merrily in her rearview mirror – all she could think of was -

"'What have I done?!'"

(The next morning at around 5:00 AM, the sun hadn't even risen in the sky when Michael called Pam at home):

"Goodmorning, sunshine! Did you sleep well? I hope so because we have a busy day ahead of us, kiddo! Now go pack your frilly underwear and other unmentionables which I will mention in the car later – I'll pick you up at your place in two hours!"

Pam covered her head with her pillow.

"Pam, are you there? Wakey! Wakey!"

"I'm here!' She grumbled into the phone. 'Why? Why? Why?'

"Great, now be a good girl and go eat them Wheaties! 'Wheaties! I love me Wheaties for my sweeties!'" He sang into the phone.

It was quickly becoming a nightmare and they hadn't even left her driveway yet.

"Michael!" Pam moaned.

"OK, I'll let you get ready – see you later on – and make sure you bring your passport! Bye!"

When Pam hung up, she took the receiver, unattached it and then yanked the phone cord and all from the wall. It made a loud clang as she dropped it soundly on the floor. Then, she buried herself into a self-created mountain of blankets and pillows.