Rules of Engagement

Just a little burble. Spoilers for 3x01, "Gay Witch Hunt". Pam/Dwight/Jim. 500 words.

© 2006, S. Faith

"Call him."

Pam sighs and rolls her eyes dramatically to Dwight.

"Dwight. I'm busy. Call him yourself."

Dwight stares at Pam, willing her to understand something she can't possibly guess, and finally says, "I can't call him. One doesn't just… call the enemy like that; it'd be a sign of weakness."

"So how is asking a girl to call for you less wussy than calling him yourself?"

Dwight fixes his beady eyes on Pam, hunches down over the reception desk even farther, frankly a little too close for her comfort; her nose was assaulted by the lingering odor of beets. In a low voice he says, "It's a strategic maneuver, Pam. All you have to do is say that the package was received and the… device seems to be in good working order. That's it."

Except, thinks Pam, when it tried to out you.

"Why do you care if he knows you got it?"

Dwight pushes air out between his teeth impatiently. "You know nothing about the rules of engagement."

She sighs. "Dwight. Go away."

But he doesn't, and the more he nags, the closer her hand gets to the phone. Anything to shut him up.

It's ringing. Her stomach flips.

"Jim Halpert."

For a moment she freezes, can't believe she's actually called him. How easy it was to do when she didn't think about it. When she had the shield of Dwight's stupidity to hide behind.

"Hey, Jim… it's Pam."

She hears a tiny crashing sound, like he's knocked over his cup of pens. "Pam?"

It's a fight to keep her tone neutrally professional. "Just wanted to confirm the receipt of… Dwight's gift." As she says Dwight's name, the smallest of laughs escapes her throat. She's mortified.

Silence. "This isn't on speakerphone, is it?"

"No."

"Dwight right there?"

"Yes."

"Ah." More silence. "Anyone else gay, then?"

"Dwight." Her eyes flick up to Dwight, who is furrowing his brow. "—'s the one who was using it, of course," she adds lamely, not wanting Dwight to guess Jim's side of the conversation.

Jim actually laughs, and it's like rainfall on parched earth to her. "Excellent. That should provide hours of entertainment."

"Yes. Just as it was intended to," she says carefully. She imagines he might have smiled at that, back when they were best friends, before everything fell to pieces.

She hears who she presumes is Jim's boss calling to him in the background. "I have to go," Jim says. His tone might be wistful but she's not sure if it is or if she just wants it to be.

"Okay. Bye." But she doesn't hang up.

"Pam, it's so good to hear your voice." Her heart races. Definitely wistful.

But she pretends like she didn't hear, like the phone was already on its way to the receiver as she presses her finger down to disconnect. She's not ready to have that conversation. Not here, not in front of Dwight.

She looks up to Dwight and smiles probably one of the falsest smiles ever to cross her lips. "There. Mission accomplished."