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Chapter Text

Rules:

✅️ I am mostly a Jim/Pam writer, but I'm open to other pairings (ships don't need to be straight, bc I'm also not)

I can write different tropes, genres, etc

I am open to writing smut (but nothing too graphic)

This isn't a must, but I think that Episode Rewriting (what if x happened instead of y, adding/ switching characters, etc) is pretty cool, so if you've got a request like that please send it in!

🚫 No character deaths/ Hurt no Comfort 

No x Reader or x OC

No Rape/ Assault 

I know this is extremely specific, but no Jim/Roy (seriously, what even is that ship!?)

⚠️ I am a college student currently going through a very busy semester, so please be patient with me when it comes to updates! I'm trying

Even if your request is acceptable by my warnings, I can refuse it if it makes me uncomfortable. Please don't be upset!

Thanks!

ℹ️ Small explanation on the following chapters' titles:

[Character A/ Character B]

[S = Smut
[R] = Romance (but no Smut)
[A] = Angst
[F] = Fluff

I'll also name every chapter individually (bc I like doing that), but that name will only be inside the work, and not on the actual Chapter Name

Chapter Text

Crazy Stuff

As she stood in that motel parking lot, looking around for him, Pam had two questions in her mind. 

When did I make the decision to be here? And why don't I regret it?

The first question was easier to answer than the second. Strictly speaking, she'd decided to be there just this afternoon. That motel was cheap enough that she could afford a room without any problem, yet discreet enough that she knew no one would recognise her.

Well, Packer would recognise her, if he decided to show up. If.

He was late. Maybe he wasn't coming. In her email, Pam had specified that she was going to wait for him at that motel parking lot until 21:30. It was already 21:17, her wristwatch told her. 

Maybe she was just making a fool out of herself. Pam tried to shake off that thought. She wasn't, she wasn't, she wasn't.

She had decided to be there only this afternoon, but maybe she'd already made this decision for some time. 

To be honest, it was all Kelly's fault. If she hadn't had that talk with Pam, almost a month ago, then Pam wouldn't be at the parking lot now. 

Kelly's words stayed in her mind. Wow, your life is like, sooo sad right now, isn't it? Like, your engagement went to shit, and Jim's not even here anymore for you to rebound. That would make me, like, super sad. Like, I would do some crazy stuff if all of this happened to me, you know? Pam lost countless hours of sleep thinking about that. 

Pam hated how much Kelly had read her at that moment. How Kelly both understood and didn't understand. 

I'm not gonna do anything crazy, I can't. Those were her first thoughts. 

Then, she had a terrifying, yet somehow alluring, thought. 

But maybe I could do something crazy. 

><

The weeks dragged on, and Pam still had no idea of what "crazy stuff" she was going to do. She only had the vague, dumb, almost childish notion that she wanted to do something stupid, something different, something bad.

Then, Todd Packer walked into the office, and everything clicked into place. 

The thought of doing anything with him - even something non-sexual - was, by all definitions, crazy. 

Pam wouldn't do that. Well, maybe old Pam wouldn't. New Pam had a mission to accomplish. 

Determined, she waited for the right moment. Packer was going to stay in Scranton for a few days. Pam waited until the day before he was supposed to leave town. Then she acted. 

Packer made his way to her desk almost at closing time, when most people had already left. 

"So", he said, leaning on her counter, "when am I gonna get into these stockings?" 

Old Pam would ignore it, and feel embarrassed for him. New Pam wasn't going to do either of these things. 

"I don't know." Pam answered, not taking her eyes off her Solitaire game. "Are you free tonight?" 

Packer flinched away, and for a second Pam's confidence crumpled. 

Then, he leaned in closer, close than Jim ever did. 

"Are you fucking serious?" He asked. Pam felt a light flutter on her stomach. 

She nodded, still not looking directly at him. Through her peripheral vision, though, she could see he was smiling. 

"I'm free." He answered. He laughed in his disbelief, seeming pleased. "Trust me, I'll fuck you harder than any other guy ever did."

Pam fought her hardest not to blush, but something in her expression must have given away her arousal at the sentence, because he laughed again then. 

"Hm." She answered instead, trying to appear unimpressed. "We'll see about that."

He scowled. "Are you fucking with me!?" He exclaimed, a bit louder than she wished he had. She hoped no one else had heard this. 

"Well, I'm trying to fuck with you." She answered immediately, shutting off her computer. She stood up and grabbed her things. 

Pam then looked at him for the first time, and almost froze. There was just something in his eyes, a possessive glint that told her he would make good on his promise. 

She smiled, and walked past him. "I'll text you the details later. See you!" She bid him farewell cheerfully, ignoring his attempts at further conversation. 

When she was sure he couldn't see her anymore, Pam let her huge smile run free. 

><

Thinking about that conversation in the middle of the parking lot, Pam now realised that she not only knew when she'd decided to be there, she also knew why she didn't regret being there. 

She had been pretty much the same person for the entirety of her life. And that was exhausting. She wanted to escape that normalcy, even if it was just for one day. 

Or, rather, one night.

Pam looked at her watch, and realised it was now 21:49. Fuck. 

He wasn't coming. She wasn't coming. Fuck!  

In her frustration, she hit her horn hard a few times. Fuck, fuck fuck! Either Todd Packer was an idiot, or she was an idiot. 

Unfortunately, Pam thought she knew the answer. 

She turned on her car, and started to drive away. Just as she was about to leave the parking lot, another car came into the place quickly, nearly crashing into her. 

Pam opened her window without thinking. 

"You fucker!" She screamed out. 

"Yes?" She knew that voice. Pam blinked twice, and realised that the man in the other car was no one other than him. 

Todd Packer had come. Pam smiled, and put her car in reverse. 

><

Packer paid for the room, an act of chivalry she had never expected from him. Now, the night didn't even need to be that good, since she at least wouldn't be losing any money. 

They also saved on drinks, since he had already brought beer with him. 

Pam entered the room. Packer entered after her, and locked the door. They looked at each other. 

Crazy stuff, crazy stuff, Pam reminded herself. 

><

"Ugh, fuck!" Pam moaned, gripping the mattress between her fingers. 

Packer just laughed as he fucked into her again. 

She was expecting him to be good in bed. She wasn't expecting him to be that good. Well, there had to be some reason for him to have success with the ladies, despite the fact that he was... him. 

But now, on all fours, with him fucking her from behind, Pam could testify that he was making good on the promise he'd made earlier. 

Every time he went into her, she felt the air leave her lungs. His hands gripped her hips so tightly that she was sure his fingers were leaving marks. And every time he laughed....

She couldn't help but moan again, and he laughed again. 

Her legs were shaking now, and she fought to keep them stable. He gripped her hips even tighter, and started to fuck her even harder. 

"I knew that deep down you were always a fucking slut." Packer groaned, punctuating the last words with harder thrusts. 

Those words were what did it for her. Pam felt the pressure between her legs become too much, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She let out a strangled scream as she came. 

She moaned words that not even her could comprehend, and collapsed onto the bed as his rhythm only accelerated.

She shifted her position a bit, so that her face wouldn't be literally pressed into the mattress. 

"Already?" Packer mocked her. "Slut."

Pam felt herself start to get wet again, not just because of the way he was still fucking her hard nonstop, but also because of his words. 

She tried to answer Packer, but all that she could get out at this moment were some high pitched moans. 

Packer laughed again. "Well, I'm not done with you just yet." 

Pam managed to get up on her hands again somehow. This was going to be a long night. 

And they were just starting. 

><

The following day, Pam woke up before Packer. She left the room without waking him up, and drove home to take a shower and change her clothes, before she came to work. 

A few hours later, to everyone's surprise, he rushed into Dunder Mifflin like he owned the place.

Michael immediately perked up when he spotted his close friend. 

"Pack-Man!" Michael screamed. "Man, I wasn't expecting you to be back here!" 

Pam also wasn't expecting that. Her hopes that maybe this hadn't got anything to do with her vanished when Packer started talking. 

"What the fuck , you bitch!" Packer screamed, making his way to her desk. Michael stepped one foot between them. 

"..What?" Pam asked in her best 'weirded out' voice. 

"I fucked you last night, and today you just go away without even saying goodbye!?" He shouted. 

Pam didn't even answer him. She just stared at Michael, and raised one eyebrow, unimpressed. Are you going to deal with this?

Michael was silent for a few seconds, before blurting out a very nervous laughter. 

"Haha, man, good joke!" Michael exclaimed. "Yeah, like Pam would ever do you, haha! Good one!" Pam nodded at Michael in thanks, and her boss' eyes lit up. 

Packer looked between Pam and Michael in disbelief. "But I did fuck her!" He said.

Michael laughed again. "Yeah, man, and then you woke up from the dream! Hahaha, I've been there before, trust me! Happens to the best of us."

Packer looked at Pam, eyes wide. She raised her upper lip in disgust, while fighting to keep a smile out of her face. 

After a few seconds, Packer left the office, his middle finger raised at Pam the whole way to the elevator. 

Pam went back to her game of Solitaire, one answer clear in her mind. Packer was the idiot between the two of them, she now knew. 

Chapter Text

Femininomenon

Three months post the merge with the Stamford branch, and some things were still a mystery to Pam.

Well, not some things. Some people.

Two of them weren't hard to read: Hannah (annoying) and Andy (annoying).

Tony and Martin weren't that easy to understand, but that didn't matter. Within the blink of an eye, they had left Dunder Mifflin.

But Karen Filippelli... Karen Filippelli was different.

At first glance, she didn't seem like a hard person to read. She was nice, she worked hard, she was doing fine in Scranton. But there was just this something about her.

Pam couldn't help but always keep an eye on Karen. Pam couldn't help but always try to overhear Karen's conversations in the break room. Pam couldn't help but pay a little more attention whenever Karen had a suggestion in a conference. Pam couldn't help but think too much about Karen, before work, at work, and after it.

For the lack of a better theory, she had started to imagine it was some weird form of suspicion. Pam thought that Karen had a darker, meaner, worse, bad side to her, and she was determined to figure it out before the rest of her coworkers.

That was the only thing Pam could possibly think of that explained just why she cared so much about Karen Filippelli, of all people. Why-

Pam was so lost in her thoughts that Michael's sudden materialisation at her desk scared her a bit. She paid more attention, and realised that he was talking to someone else, someone new.

Even before Michael introduced the stranger, Pam already knew who he was. He was the guy from the documentary.

Somehow, amidst all of the mess of Stamford closing and the merge of the branches, a film crew had become interested in Dunder Mifflin. They wanted to accompany everyone at work (hopefully just for a few weeks), and make a documentary on the company. 

Unsurprisingly, but not excitingly, Michael had immediately accepted the offer before telling anyone else it even existed. Some months of legal confusion and fighting between Michael, Jan, David Wallace and the Angela-Stanley alliance (representing the workers who didn't want to be filmed) had delayed the arrival of the crew for some time. But now, it seemed like things were really gonna happen. 

Thankfully, the documentary guy (Carson, Michael said) hadn't brought a camera with him. He was only coming to Dunder Mifflin today to do some groundwork, introducing himself and being introduced to everyone. 

Michael was explaining to Carson the basic layout of the place, gesturing wildly at random places. Pam closed her Solitaire game, not wanting to look unprofessional. 

Wow, did the documentary filming mean she couldn't play games at work for some time? Hopefully not.

Carson, looking both excited about the place and suffocated by Michael's presence, turned his attention to Pam. 

“Good morning.” He said, extending his hand. Pam shook it, smiling. No one ever shook her hand. She loved doing that, it made her feel like an important person, an executive, or maybe an assistant regional manager. Or to the. 

“Good morning!” She said. “I'm Pam.”

“I know this is an obvious question, but I need to ask it.” Carson said. “What do you do here?” 

Pam opened her mouth to say “I'm the receptionist”, but Michael interrupted her. 

“Well,” Michael said with a burst of laughter, “Pam is the pretty face of the office, I guess you could say.” 

Her face started to burn, and Pam felt her mouth dry. She tried to speak, but words wouldn't come to her. Unfortunately, Michael wasn't done. 

“Her job here is sitting there and looking pretty.” Michael explained to a shocked Carson. “She motivates everyone. One sexy look from Pam and you're a changed man. She-”

“That is so demeaning.” Pam didn't realise who had said that for a second. She turned her head and spotted Karen looking at Michael with fury in her eyes. 

Pam pursed her lips and looked down, unsure of what to do. On one side, she felt humiliated by Michael. On the other side, Karen's defense of her felt… good. Really good. 

“What?” Michael laughed, like Karen had been joking. “It's true! And I'm not demanding anything from Pam, she already looks like that for free.”

Karen stood up suddenly, and made her way to the reception desk. Pam felt her face burn even more. 

“Pam is one of the most important people in this office.” Karen said, staring directly at Michael. “She has to make and answer calls, she has to make copies, she has to look over so much work, and most difficult of all, she has to put up with you all of the time.” 

Karen spared a glance at Pam quickly, her expression looking… protective. Pam felt something warm in her body. 

“Well, uh, I, uh-” Michael stammered. He never knew how to deal with people that didn't bend down to his will. 

“She is so much more than her pretty face.” Karen exclaimed.

Pam's eyes immediately widened when she realised what Karen had said. She thought Pam was more than her pretty face, but she also did think she had a pretty face. Pam felt grateful on a level she couldn't really explain. 

Michael looked between Pam and Karen quickly, trying to figure out what to say. When he couldn't come up with anything, he turned around quickly, and went into his office without saying a single word. 

Carson smiled at Pam soothingly, but he couldn't trick her. She saw the glint in his eyes. She knew that he had loved that confusion. She knew that he had realised he'd stumbled into a gold mine of drama. 

Pam didn't say anything. Carson nodded politely, and went in after Michael, closing the door when he'd entered the room. 

Whatever little attention that chaos had gathered from her coworkers was now gone. Everyone got back to their job like it was just another regular day, because it was. Only Pam and Karen were still thinking about it. 

Karen looked at her with an unreadable expression, and Pam felt like she had to say something. 

“Hey, uh.” Pam started, noticing that her face had never stopped burning. Even though it felt more like a blush now. “Thank you. For saying that. It means a lot to me.”

Those words seemed to surprise Karen, who blinked quickly for a moment. 

“You don't need to thank me.” Karen said in that even deeper voice tone she used from time to time. Pam's body felt warmer, and she took her sweater off. “He's an asshole to you.” Karen said those words a bit louder, like she wasn't scared that Michael could hear them. 

Like she wanted him to hear them. 

Pam simply shrugged, unsure of what else to do. “I'm used to it by now.”

“Doesn't make it right.” Karen commented. A part of the fury Pam had seen in her previously was back. “Doesn't make it right.” She repeated. 

Pam shrugged again, and Karen smiled, despite everything. 

“I need to get back to work.” Karen said, a weird sadness coating her words, like she would rather stay there with Pam. Pam found herself hoping that Karen wanted to stay there and talk to her. “Talk to you later?”

“Yeah!” Pam exclaimed. She felt like an idiot: of course she and Karen would talk later, they worked together. Those words didn't mean anything. 

Before Pam could thank Karen again, she'd already made her way back to her desk. 

-

Pam's productivity for the rest of the day was at an all time low. 

Everything she tried to work, flashes of memories would come back to her mind. 

The fury in Karen's eyes

“Pam is one of the most important people in this office.”

The way Karen had stood up and confronted Michael

“She is so much more than her pretty face.”

The way Karen looked at her

“Talk to you later?”

The way Karen's suit made her figure look so nice

Pam was starting to come up with a better theory as to why Karen was always in her mind, but she didn't dare say it. She didn't even dare think about it. She didn't dare. 

-

The day was almost over now. Pam closed her Solitaire game, not caring that she hadn't finished it yet. She needed to be ready fast. 

During the last hour of work, an idea had come to her. She had thought about it for long, weighing the pros and cons, weighing the consequences.

It was Friday. Pam didn't have anything to do after work. Maybe Karen was also free. Maybe Pam could…

Karen stood up from her desk, and Pam felt a sense of urgency take over her. Now or never, now or never, now or-

“Karen!” Pam exclaimed as she reached the brunette's desk. 

Karen looked up at her in surprise, but a small smile started to form on the corner of her lips. “Yeah?”

“I was thinking…” Pam began. 

“About what?” Karen asked when Pam was silent for too many seconds. 

“Do you want to go out for a drink!?” Pam said those words all at once, voice hurried, desperate.

“I'd love to!” Karen said, a glint appearing on her eyes. It reminded Pam of Carson and his excitement. “Now?” 

“If you're free?” Pam asked, thankfully managing to sound calmer now. 

Karen nodded with a smile. That sight caused Pam to smile, too. 

“Cool.” Pam said. “Good.”

She didn't know why she'd done that, but before she could control herself, Pam extended her right hand, like she and Karen had reached a business agreement or something. 

Pam tried to retract her hand, face burning from embarrassment, but Karen didn't let her. 

Karen held Pam's hand with both of her hands, and shook it, chuckling. Her hands were soft and warm, and Pam fought to stop a blush from rising to her cheeks again. 

“It's a date.” Karen said. 

Pam felt herself blush. 

Chapter Text

Tonight, I wanna give it all to You

Angela had never kissed him like this before. Half sitting on his lap, grabbing him like everything depended on it.

One could argue that her action's only result was angering Dwight. The people in the Office were so judgy and simple-minded, that she was sure this was their interpretation of the facts.

But that wasn't what Andy thought had happened. And, maybe, if she could let herself think freely for a second (or more than one second, as it seemed to be the case), that wasn't what Angela thought had happened.

Kissing Andy like that had felt... good. Very good. Dangerously good. For the first time during the course of their relationship, she had even felt something between her legs.

It was a quick sensation, lasting only a few seconds, but it had been there, undeniably so. She hadn't told Andy about it. There was no reason to tell him.

Angela was so distracted that it took her some time to notice the silence that filled the car. She blinked, realising she'd been staring out the window mindlessly, and looked at Andy.

Her fiancé was driving the car quietly. He had stopped singing; how long ago, she could not tell. He looked anxious, biting his lip, furrowing his eyebrows and tapping on the wheel. His behaviour annoyed her deeply.

"What?" She exclaimed at the same time Andy said "Ange?"

Oh.

She stayed quiet, an obvious sign that he should start speaking first. After a few seconds, he understood.

"Milady, how about..." His over dramatic pause didn't annoy her as much as it usually would. "...we do something different tonight?"

Angela let her mind process the suggestion. Her first instinct was to deny his offer, obviously. There was no need for them to do anything different, so why should they?

But before she voiced her thoughts, Angela felt something nag at her. I already decided to do something pretty different today, why shouldn't I let him try to do the same?

"Okay." Angela said, barely hearing her voice over the noise of her blood roaring in her ears.

One could say she accepted because she was feeling guilty about what she'd done this morning. But Angela knew the truth.

She accepted because she had enjoyed the morning's events, and wanted to find out what else could happen. What next?

><

It was only after Andy had diverted his driving path for a while that Angela realised she'd never found out what they would be doing. She tried asking him, but his reactions were limited to stupid giggles and smiles that maybe were supposed to be secretive, but left her feeling weirdly... hot.

She only found out when the drive ended. Angela hopped out of the car before Andy tried to open the door for her or some other idiocy of the sort.

Dave's , the dingy sign atop the bar read. To Angela's dismay, two more words followed.

Karaoke Bar.

"No." She said almost immediately, turning to stare at Andy.

His big smile faltered.

"Come on, Ange!" He exclaimed as he tried to lock the car. He failed to put the key in. "It'll be fun!"

"No." She repeated.

After a few more unsuccessful attempts, Andy finally managed to lock the car. He walked up to her and suddenly grasped her hands.

"We're about to get married!" He reasoned. "And I want the future Ms. Bernard to know her way around only the best Karaoke Bar in the area!"

"...No." Angela said after some hesitance. She had just lost the battle, she realised.

"I know this place is no match to the bars we had in Cornell," Andy reasoned, "but it is awesome!"

He smiled widely, his eyes shining with something she could only describe as pure joy.

Maybe she was being too harsh on him, not that she would ever tell him that. Maybe she should accept.

"All right." Angela conceded.

Andy was so excited that he tried to raise both of his arms in celebration, forgetting that they were still holding hands. He ended up yanking her hard. Angela lost balance, crashed onto him, and both of them fell down.

Angela would usually be furious with this accident, but things were so different today that it didn't even bother her that much.

Andy laughed as he helped her stand up. And maybe Angela had forgotten to wipe a smile out of her face.

><

Dave's Karaoke Bar didn't end up being the worst place in the world. It wasn't the best, obviously, but Angela didn't have as many things to complain about as she thought she'd have.

One could say that the biggest problem in that place was the awful batch of "singers" that were allowed to use the Karaoke machine.

But that lack of talent and decorum was actually her favourite part of the night. All night long, Andy and her complained about the "performers" together.

Andy would say that guy's voice wasn't suitable for the vibrato he was attempting, as Angela said he looked homeless. Andy would comment on one woman’s inability to get the lyrics of the song she'd chosen right, while Angela commented on her trashy tramp stamp.

Sometimes people sent angry stares their way, but neither of them cared. Angela didn't think she'd ever had that much fun on a date with Andy before.

And, maybe, when she really thought about it, she realised she'd never had that much fun on a date before, regardless as to who it was with.

After a long time, but still too soon for Angela's liking, it was their turn.

She adamantly refused to get up on the little stage, rebutting all of Andy's attempts at convincing her otherwise. He conceded eventually, and got up on stage alone.

Andy took his time flipping through the list of songs available, not giving in to the pressure of the anxious crowd, who wanted him to be done with it as quickly as possible. Angela appreciated his stubbornness.

Angela was distractedly staring at the way Andy's hands held the song list when he addressed the room with the microphone, scaring her slightly.

"For my love," Andy said, "I'll be singing I Was Made For lovin' You, by Kiss. For my love!"

Angela squirmed in her seat. She wasn't familiar with that song, but she knew of Kiss and their ungodly reputation. That couldn't be good.

However, to her shock, the lyrics of the song weren't sinful and offensive. They were rather.... sweet. Romantic.

As Andy paraded around the stage, doing his falsetto, doing his dances, being himself, Angela couldn't help but feel the smallest bit prideful. Not that she would ever tell him.

The song ended, and Andy skipped his way back to her. When they met, they kissed quickly. That was very unlike them. Angela felt like she should be embarrassed by the PDA, but she could only feel some butterflies in her stomach.

Stupid feelings and their way of getting in the middle of things.

><

At first glance, the drive back home didn't seem out of the ordinary. Andy was doing his versions of a plethora of songs, even going as far as tapping the roof of the car with his knuckles whenever he needed percussion noises. And Angela was silent throughout all of this.

Sure, Andy was acting like he usually did (although he seemed a bit more excited than usual, and that was saying something). But Angela...

Angela felt like her heart was in her throat. Her body was too hot, and she was practically nauseous. Whatever it was she felt, it was too much, and she didn't know how long she'd be able to resist.

Resist what?, someone could ask foolishly. Resist her fiancé, that was what.

Before today, before the bar, before the Kiss song, before the kiss, she had never truly considered Andy an option. A romantic option, sure; he was her fiancé, afterall. But she'd never really seen him as a sexual option.

But now, going home from the bar, after the Kiss song, after the kisses, things felt different. It was like she had started to see sides of Andy that she previously didn't. That she previously ignored.

Two lines from the song Andy had sang were stuck in her mind:

Tonight, I wanna give it all to you/ In the darkness, there's so much I wanna do

Those lines were provocative, and maybe even shameless, but Angela surprisingly couldn't bring herself to care about those aspects right now.

Instead, she let her mind run a little freer, her thoughts getting so reckless she was making herself flushed.

And those two lines kept coming back to her, acting almost like background music to her risqué ideas.

><

After Angela and Andy arrived at the apartment they shared (their home, one could say), they mostly avoided each other's paths. Unintentionally on his end, and fully intentionally on hers.

Angela took a long bath, hoping that it would cool the warmth that had been pooling in her for the past few hours. She even changed into regular clothes, because her nightgown seemed too lewd at the moment. Neither of these actions worked, no matter how much she tried to pretend they did.

In fact, as time went on, Angela only felt more and more hot, her thoughts getting wilder and wilder. She resisted her urges for hours, until...

"Milady?" Andy called, standing up from his armchair. Angela looked up at him from her place, sitting on her bed. "I will retire for the night." He said, bowing dramatically.

Andy slept on the couch in the living room. It was far from Angela, but she had never minded that. Now, however... now-

"Andy." She said, putting her book down on her nightstand. Her fiancé was already leaving her room, but he turned around quickly when she spoke.

"Yes?" He asked, his voice excited and hopeful. Hopeful for...

"Come here." She ordered, and he obeyed.

When he was within her range, Angela extended her arms, and took his hands in his. She pulled him closer and lifted her head.

Andy took the memo, and kissed her. When they pulled back, his eyes opened widely. Angela's mind only had one thing going through it:

Tonight, I wanna give it all to you/ In the darkness, there's so much I wanna do

She kissed him again; this time, though, she let go of his hands and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, drawing him impossibly close. Andy tentatively put one hand on her upper back, and she didn't stop him.

After a few - many? - moments, it became clear to her that this position wasn't the best. She pulled back again, taking one second to appreciate his slightly swollen lips.

"Sit down." She said, noticing how husky her own voice sounded. That hadn't happened before, neither with Andy nor with... anyone else.

Again, Andy immediately complied, sitting down beside her on her bed. As she kissed him deeper than ever before, Angela couldn't squash down her own excitement. This felt different. This felt new. This felt thrilling.

For a while, they just kissed, their arms wrapped around each other, but unmoving. But then Angela brought one hand to cup his face, and the other grasped his shoulder for purchase.

Andy followed her lead and started to move more too. One of his hands grabbed her waist, and she let out a sigh into his lips. His other hand found its way to her hair.

At the moment, Angela found herself completely in control, not just of herself, but also of him. It was a new feeling. Her previous partners were more dominating in bed, but Andy let her take the lead.

Angela had never minded being ordered around, but the feeling of being the one giving the orders? Now that she had a taste of it, she didn't want to let it go.

Testing the waters a bit, she tapped him twice on the shoulder. He understood immediately, and pulled away from the kiss.

"Ange?" He asked, and oh, he sounded breathless just from those kisses. He must've been pent up for a while.

Angela could've stopped things there if she wanted to. But, to her utter surprise, the only thing she wanted to do was keep going.

"You may take my shirt off." She said, her voice firm like she had any idea of what she was doing.

Thankfully, he followed her order. His hands trembled with excitement as he got her shirt off, but she didn't mind. She liked the goosebumps that his fingers caused on her skin.

Quickly, her shirt was thrown to the ground. She'd have preferred if he'd stored it away properly, but she understood the hurry.

"Damn, Ange." Andy whispered when he looked at her. Surprising herself, she excused the blasphemy.

Angela pointed at Andy's chest, and he smiled earnestly. He quickly took his shirt off and threw it to the ground besides hers. They kissed again, their hands exploring the now uncovered spaces in their bodies. This was fine for a while, but Angela craved more.

She quickly unclasped her bra, and after a second of hesitation, tossed it to the ground. The way Andy's eyes bugged out of their sockets made everything even more worth it.

His hands reached towards her chest, but she lifted one of her arms quickly, placing it between her and him. Andy immediately retreated his movement, and looked at her for instructions.

Angela felt like smiling at this power, but she refrained from doing so out of pride. Instead, she chose to ask him something that had been on the back of her mind ever since this thing between them began.

"Andy," she said before he could interrupt her, "do you have a condom? Because if you don't, I'm not going to continue this."

His hands flew to his own pockets, but his search proved fruitless. He then looked from side to side quickly, eyes now wide in fear.

Angela didn’t feel bad for him in the slightest, as much as she also wanted to continue. Her resolution was final.

She was about to speak again when Andy simply jumped out of the bed and ran out the room. Angela thought she'd been abandoned like trash, until she heard the noises coming from the living room.

Noises of things being thrown around. Of places being rummaged through. Of confusion, but also of urgency.

Andy hadn't abandoned her; he was just trying his best to do what she had told him.

Since he wasn't there to see it, Angela let herself smile freely. She lay down on her bed, head thrown back, for the first time in this relationship feeling happy like that.

She was so distracted she barely noticed he'd come back. It wasn't until she heard him call her name that she looked in front of her again.

The sight before her was almost enough to make her blush. Andy, shirtless and a bit flustered, holding a condom in between them with a smile on his face.

"Okay?" He asked.

She nodded her head once.

Andy was so happy he almost laughed at the confirmation. Angela allowed a small smile to run through her face.

After some seconds of confusion, she decided to let Andy open the condom and put it on himself. He was ecstatic with the order, although Angela suspected he'd have been just as happy if she'd decided to do those things herself.

While Andy took off the rest of his clothes, Angela did the same. She tried her best not to feel embarrassed or ashamed, but old habits don't go away easily.

She covered herself with one of the covers when she was done, as she waited for him to stop fumbling with the condom package and actually do something. Andy noticed she was hidden, and his expression fell ever so slightly.

"Milady, don't hide." Andy said gleefully. "You're beautiful."

It was just a compliment, almost too simple to be taken seriously. But it still caused a blush to rise on her cheeks and a shadow of a moan to appear on her throat.

Andy took off his boxers - which were stamped all over with Cornell's logo - and Angela let out a small noise. He looked at her smiling, seemingly not embarrassed at all.

"Ange?" He had to call her name a few times until she answered, seeing as she was too distracted watching him roll on the condom to hear him speak.

"Hm?" She hummed.

"Tell me how you wanna do this." He said.

She felt happy that he wanted her guidance, that he wanted her to be in charge once more.

Angela didn't need to think before she answered him. It was her favourite position, after all.

"Let's do missionary." She said, beginning to take the covers off herself.

To her utter surprise, Andy's answer came in the form of a song.

"Don't mess with a missionary man!" Andy sang soulfully. "Don't mess with a-"

Angela covered herself again.

"It's an Eurythmics song, it-" Andy stopped talking.

Angela pushed the covers away.

Things happened quite quickly after that. They positioned themselves, with Angela sometimes making some corrections to Andy's form. When she considered the situation was good enough, she gave him the green light.

He pushed in with a small huff, and Angela herself had to fight to hold in a moan. He waited a few seconds, and then he started to move.

Angela's arms wrapped themselves around his neck unconsciously, pulling him closer. At first, she looked at the ceiling of her room, but her eyes eventually closed, and she just enjoyed the feelings.

After some time, but still too soon for Angela's liking, the pressure she felt between her legs became too much.

She tried to speak, but the only thing that left her mouth was a noise so lewd, she at first doubted it had come from her. Instead, she tapped Andy on the shoulder.

He misunderstood her signal, and immediately stopped his movements. They looked at each other.

"Too much, Ange?" He asked, his whisper quiet and worried.

She shook her head to buy some time, until words finally came to her mouth.

"Faster." She asked.

Andy blinked in surprise, but quickly complied, diminishing the interval between his thrusts until...

Angela grabbed him tighter as she came, her whole world shaking for a second. As she waited for things to come back to normal, she heard a moan that indicated he'd followed her lead.

He motioned to pull out, but she shook her head once and he stopped.

"I need a second." She said.

He nodded, eyes completely focused on her, like she could tell him to do just about anything and he'd comply.

She basked in that power for a few seconds, before signalling him that he could continue what he was doing.

><

When she came back from her bath, Angela found that Andy had changed the bedding and arranged the room. She was happy he'd helped, as she now felt the exhaustion of the day's novelties weigh down on her. She needed to sleep.

Andy seemed more hesitant now than ever before throughout the night. After he came back from his quick shower, they talked once more.

"Ange?" He asked. He looked at her and probably sensed that she didn't want to talk about what had just happened, at least not right now. "Can I sleep in the bed with you tonight?"

Angela hadn't expected this question. It was one of their arrangements: she slept in her bed, and he took the sofa. To sleep alongside him, after everything...

No.

"Yes." She answered, surprising herself.

Huh. Maybe some habits went away quite easily.

Chapter Text

Business Lesson

Ryan Howard was fucking unbelievable.

Jim had asked him to do a report in the beginning of the day, and now work was almost over, and still he had received nothing back.

It was a simple report, nothing fancy. Nothing that a self-proclaimed tech genius of the likes of Ryan wouldn't be able to do with ease. But no , he didn't do it. The report was late, and he didn't even care.

It was honestly like Ryan did (or, more accurately, didn't do) these things on purpose.

Maybe he just wants to piss you off. Jim first got this thought during lunch break, when he realised that Ryan had sheltered himself in his closet, instead of coming out to eat.

Ryan hadn't left his fucking closet office the whole day, ever since Jim had asked him for the report. One could even think he'd died in there or something, but a check made Jim realise that various keyboard and mouse noises could be heard inside of there.

(Stanley gave Jim a weird look when he saw the younger man standing in front of Ryan's closet, with his ear pressed against the door. Jim didn't mind.)

Before Jim could continue thinking any more about Ryan, something he'd done the entire day, a voice interrupted his musings.

"Bye, Jim!" Phyllis exclaimed as she was putting on her coat. "Don't stay up late!" She said, waving a finger at him admonishingly.

"I won't." Jim lied. "Bye!"

Phyllis closed the door behind her, and that was it.

The only two people left in the office were Jim and Ryan.

Jim waited. He refreshed his email, skimmed through some news, checked the afternoon's game's result, refreshed his email, skimmed thro-

He kept this cycle for a few minutes, until he was sure that neither Phyllis, nor anyone else, would be returning to Dunder Mifflin today. He felt weird arguing with Ryan in front of an audience.

Ryan definitely knew that Jim was still there. He might be overconfident, smug and overall infuriating, but he was not dumb.

He's probably done all of this on purpose, a voice in Jim's head whispered again. But why? That, Jim did not know. That, he was about to find out.

Finally, Jim did the thing he'd wanted to do for most of the day. He stood up from his desk, walked to Ryan's closet, and knocked on the door.

Ryan didn't answer, but the way the mouse clicking noises had stopped showed Jim that the other man had heard him.

Jim knocked again, and again, and again, his hits on the door getting more and more frustrated each time, until-

"Yeah?" Ryan sounded slightly annoyed, which only made Jim angrier.

Instead of answering, Jim chose to open the door.

He'd been expecting the sight he was met with. That didn't mean it didn't make him mad.

Ryan was sprawled on his chair. The computer screen showed a game of minesweeper, which he was lazily playing.

Jim was silent for a few seconds, trying to order the mess of thoughts and swears in his mind into actual words. During this whole time, Ryan continued playing his game, eyes staring only at the screen.

"Ryan..." Jim began, so angry he could barely think.

The only answer he got was a non-committal hmm? from the other man. Jim lost whatever calm he even had left.

"Are you fucking out of your mind!?" Jim's voice came out much higher and louder than he'd intended to. Fuck.

Ryan's eyes widened a bit at that. Still, he kept playing his game. Jim watched in shock as Ryan continued to ignore him. After a few seconds, he won the minesweeper game. He moved his hand, mouse hovering over the New Game! button for a moment.

Jim was expecting Ryan to play another game, so he was genuinely shocked when the other turned around quickly, and looked at him.

"Yeah?" Ryan asked, sounding extremely bored. His eyes, however, told a different story. They were full of an emotion Jim couldn't exactly place, some weird type of excitement.

"Thank you for taking a break from all of your hard work to talk to me." Jim said sarcastically.

"You're welcome." Ryan answered, sounding completely genuine.

Jim lost his cool again.

"You know what!? Fuck you, Ryan!" Jim screamed, taking a step further into the closet. The door got in his way, so he closed it behind him.

Ryan lifted an eyebrow at the swearing, but didn't do anything else. Jim kept trying to get through to him.

"You know why I'm here." Jim said, again to no response. "Where's the report?"

"Report?" Ryan feigned confusion, but Jim could tell he knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I've been waiting for it the entire day." Jim argued. "You know how much I needed it. And yet you didn't do shit."

To his surprise, Ryan stood up from his chair. He turned his back to Jim for a moment, as he shut down his computer. Then, he leaned against his desk, staring at Jim again.

Jim didn't know what to say. Nothing he'd tried so far had worked, and he was out of options. Ryan was the one to keep the conversation (if you could call it that) moving.

"What do you want, Jim?" Ryan asked.

Jim blinked in shock, trying to process the question.

"I want the report." He answered after a beat.

Ryan shook his head from side to side, tsking. "You don't want that."

That was one of the worst things about Ryan, at least in Jim's opinion. How he acted like he was better than you. Like he knew more, like he had all the answers, like he was in the right, like he was superior.

Jim shouldn't have taken the bait. But he was too angry to care about that.

"Why wouldn't I want the report?" He asked.

Ryan smiled, and he almost looked handsome for a second. Before he started talking.

"You don't want the report because you don't need it. Not anymore. You probably already got someone else to do it for me."

Shit. How does he know that?

Once he'd noticed Ryan wouldn't do it (five hours ago), Jim had asked Phyllis to do the report instead. She'd finished it in twenty minutes.

Ryan took Jim's silence as an answer, and continued talking.

"You don't want the report." He said. "So what is it that you do want?"

Jim took another step forward. Now he was as close to Ryan as he could without getting (too) uncomfortable.

He needed to try.

"Why do you do those things?" Jim asked, his eyes wildly searching Ryan's face for answers. He found none. "Why do you always have to make me so mad?"

The second question slipped out of his mouth before he could hold it in. No use taking the words back now.

Ryan didn't answer right away. Then, suddenly, he reached forward, and grabbed the tip of Jim's tie. He fiddled with it for a second, before he tugged gently.

Surprised, Jim walked a step closer. The distance between them was so small that their legs almost touched.

Jim and Ryan stared into each other's eyes.

"You know why I make you so mad." Ryan stated. His eyes darkened, his mouth twisting into a devilish smirk. Jim swallowed.

I do. Jim knew it. But he couldn't say it. He wouldn't give Ryan that satisfaction.

"I don't." Jim chose to answer instead, his voice barely above a whisper now.

Ryan pulled on the tie again, and Jim took another step forward. This time, his right leg touched Ryan's crotch, and he realised that-

Jim actually looked down to check whether he was imagining things, and Ryan laughed. He wasn't imagining things.

Ryan was hard. Very hard.

All of the somewhat reasonable thoughts left in Jim's brain disappeared after that discovery. The only thing he could notice was the way his own body was starting to react. Fuck.

Ryan looked up at him, no regret or shame discernible in his eyes. He tugged on the tie, and Jim reached down and-

They kissed each other frantically, like everything depended on it, even though only a few things actually did.

After the first few kisses, Jim's mind returned to a quasi-normal state. He knew he didn't want to stop what they were doing, but he also knew one other thing.

I can't let Ryan do all he wants. Not again.

So, Jim grabbed Ryan's face with both of his hands. They continued kissing, but this time, he was trying to set the pace. To his surprise, Ryan responded well to that, and accepted Jim's control.

Jim pressed his right leg against Ryan's crotch, and the other man groaned into his mouth. Jim smiled, moreso to himself than to Ryan.

At some point, Ryan let go of his tie, and his hands started to explore his body. Jim let him do it, enjoying the way his temperature rose at the touching. When Ryan's hands reached for his belt, though, Jim decided he should stop that.

Jim slapped Ryan's hands away with his left hand, his grip on the other's face with the right one tightening. Ryan made a noise of complaint, but Jim swallowed it into another kiss.

They kept just kissing for a while, before Jim felt an urge for more.

He pulled away, and Ryan tried to chase him for more kisses. Jim smiled as he wiped his mouth. He looked around the small room, and quickly spotted Ryan's office chair, long abandoned. Jim sat down on it, and motioned Ryan over with two fingers.

Ryan hesitated, and for a second Jim feared that the spell was broken. The sheer insanity of what they were doing had caught up with Ryan, and the moment was over.

But then, Ryan rolled his eyes quickly, and followed Jim. The shorter man actually sat down on his lap, and the moment continued.

#*#*#*#*#*

Jim wasn't exactly sure how things had gone this way.

He raised his right hand, and hit Ryan in the ass again.

At this point, many concepts and ideas had been thrown out the window already. Time, Reason, Common Sense, etc etc.

Ryan reacted a lot to every hit, his broken gasps and moans music to Jim's ears.

So, maybe Jim wouldn't have done something like this, were it a different moment. Or maybe he would have. That also didn't matter.

He could feel Ryan's dick, pressed against his leg, and that only made him want to keep going.

All that mattered was the Now. Whatever Now that even was.

Jim spanked Ryan's ass again and again, feeling like this was the worst/best thing he'd ever done.

Similar to what'd happened before, Jim got bored before Ryan did. Well, maybe bored wasn't the right word.

Jim was pretty hard at this point, and he didn't know if he'd be able to hold on for much longer.

And similar to what'd happened before, Jim was the one to change the pace.

#*#*#*#*#*

Ryan Howard wasn't good at many things. Business management, leadership, integrity, honesty, you name it.

But Jim had come to learn one of the man's hidden talents.

He was excellent at giving blowjobs.

"Fuck." Jim whispered out. "Fuck!"

Jim's right hand had made its way to Ryan's hair at some point. He pulled on it firmly, guiding the other's head.

They locked eyes. Despite, well, the current situation, Jim could still notice something clearly.

Ryan didn't like him. And the feeling was mutual.

Jim smiled as smugly as he could. For once, Ryan was in control. For once, he was following Jim's instructions. For on-

Ryan suddenly took Jim's entire length into his mouth. Jim moaned, and his head fell back. Fuck, Ryan was good at this. Jim was starting to hope tonight wouldn't be a one-off thing.

He pulled on his hair again, desperate. Ryan's moan came out muffled. Jim couldn't take it much longer.

There was no point in warning Ryan that he was close. Still, Jim was quite surprised to see the other swallow so eagerly.

Ryan pulled back, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Jim panted for a few seconds, his mind still struggling a bit to process all that'd just happened.

When he was able to think straight again, though, Jim had a great idea. He pulled his underwear back up, and closed his fly. Ryan blinked many times in succession.

"Jim!" He exclaimed, his eyes wide and his voice a bit husky. "Jim, I-"

Jim ignored him, and stood up from his chair. Ryan scrambled to his feet too. Jim made his way to the door.

"Wait!" Ryan grabbed his wrist, and Jim turned back.

"Yeah?"

"Jim, I-" Ryan paused for a second, looking down. He was visibly hard. "I still... I still haven't-"

"That's none of my business." Jim said as he pulled his arm out of the other's grip. "See you tomorrow, Ryan."

He opened the door and left, thoroughly enjoying the way he'd dealt with things. Ryan didn't follow him.

When he was already inside of his car, going home, Jim realised he'd left his tie at the closet. He didn't even remember exactly when he'd taken it off.

Whatever. He'd just have to ask Ryan if he'd seen it any of these days.

Chapter Text

Valentine's Day.

Dwight stood up from his desk to refill his coffee mug, and Angela breathed in deeply. This was her chance.

She'd been waiting all day for the ideal moment to give him his Valentine's Day gift. He still hadn't given her hers, and she really wanted to be first.

It had taken her a while to decide whether or not she should give him a Valentine's Day gift in the first place. Afterall, the tradition was sentimentalist, not to say risky. And none of those things were like Angela.

But Dwight was different. He caused her to feel things that none of her previous boyfriends and dates had. He was worth an effort.

Angela took the box from her desk, and quietly walked to his. She glanced around discreetly: no one was looking at her. Good.

Jim was her biggest concern. He noticed too much; his attentive eyes were always focused on everything around him, especially the things concerning her Dwight.

But the salesman seemed to have other plans in mind. He was looking at Pam, who was currently taking a flower pot to Phyllis' desk. Jim followed the receptionist's path with his eyes, completely enraptured.

Angela would usually consider Jim's lack of workplace ethics and decorum an insult. Today, however, this was her blessing.

She left the box on Dwight's desk, and hurried back to keep doing her job.

It didn't take long for Dwight to come back, his coffee mug now filled. He immediately stopped and tensed up when he noticed the box, as she had suspected he would.

Angela felt the tension accumulate in her own body as well, as she waited for his reaction. One of her biggest fears was that he'd get rid of the box without even opening it, thinking it was a prank from Jim.

To her relief, after a few seconds and a couple of inquiries to Jim, Dwight took one of his knives and opened the box.

As he unwrapped the gift, another of Angela's fears, her biggest, came back to her mind. She was a bit terrified that gift was a bad idea. Maybe Dwight didn't want a bobblehead of himself, or he didn't like the idea of a Valentine's Day gift. She was worried that he'd detest the gift, or, even worse, pay little mind to it.

But his reaction exceeded even her most hopeful expectations.

Dwight laughed and smiled at the bobblehead, his expression happier and more handsome than she'd ever seen.

After admiring it for a while, he stood up from his desk, and showed the gift to every single person in the office. Most didn't care. Many didn't even lift his eyes to look at him. But Dwight didn't seem to care, as excited as he was.

When he showed her the gift, she made sure not to look at it for long. She just glanced at the bobblehead and shrugged, like she couldn't care less about it.

Like his happiness didn't mean the world to her right now.

•••

Something seemed wrong.

Many hours had passed since Angela had given Dwight her gift, but she still hadn't received hers.

She'd even discreetly brought this complaint to Dwight, but he'd reassured her that she'd get her gift by the end of the day. That deadline only approached, and there was still no gift in sight.

Other people in the office, however, seemed to be getting far more gifts than they perhaps needed. Phyllis now had enough ugly flowers and cheap plushies to woo an entire easily impressed village.

For the remainder of the day, Angela found it surprisingly difficult to focus on her work. She had a lot of things to get through, but every few seconds she'd catch herself staring at her watch, calculating how many minutes there were left for Dwight's deadline.

Worst of all, she couldn't even argue about it with Dwight; it'd be too dangerous to try and corner him alone two times in the same day. Some people might get wrong, foolish ideas.

A few minutes before time was up, Angela made a quick trip to the bathroom, just to freshen up (and definitely not to wipe away some stupid tears that'd come to her eyes). When she came back, she encountered a surprise.

A small package, sitting on her desk. Angela startled, but quickly schooled her expression back to normal. She sat down and opened it, hating how eager her fingers were in unwrapping the gift paper.

The gift was a small key. No keyring.

Angela did not understand it at first, but then-

She tried to hold in her smile, but found it was a losing battle.

A key. A house key. Dwight's house key. To her. To her.

Despite her worries, Angela turned to look at Dwight. He was pretending to be paying attention to something else, but she could see a small smile on the corner of his lips.

Angela looked back at her (her!) key for another moment, before she swiftly put it away in her purse. She didn't need anyone in the office noticing her gift, let alone asking her questions about it.

•••

Shockingly, the key wasn't the last surprise Dwight had in store.

After she'd gotten her gift, Angela realised she had done practically no work the entire day, and she hurried to take care of all of her pending tasks. She was able to focus a lot better now, and worked concentrated for a while.

When she'd finished everything up, it was 5:23. She looked to her side, and was surprised to see Dwight's desk vacant. He'd stored everything away, including his newest bobblehead.

That was unlike him. During her entire time knowing him, Angela had never seen Dwight leave quite so early.

It must have something to do with Valentine's Day.

Angela thought it through. Dwight had given her his key, and then left early, without giving her any type of notice of his departure. He definitely wanted her to follow along.

She thought about calling him to check, but ultimately decided against it. There was no doubt that Dwight wanted her to go to his house.

So, Angela gathered her stuff, and left work. Jim had left just before her, not before saying something to Pam. Despite the unquestionably terrible day the receptionist had had, she was now beaming and smiling.

These two, Angela thought as she made her way to her car. Dwight's was nowhere to be seen.

•••

Angela didn't need to review the way to Dwight's house. She'd been there a few times before, and had made sure to memorise the path.

Soon, she was in Schrute Farms, parking her car next to a few huge piles of hay.

As she got closer to the house, Angela met Mose. He was trying to carry at least four chickens in his arms at the same time. Their eyes met, and he ran out back, dragging the birds with him.

Angela then made her way to the door, and knocked on it. Dwight opened it almost instantly.

He looked very handsome, already in his farmer garments. His hair was a bit messy, like he hadn't had time to brush it. She found it surprisingly charming.

"Monkey." He said, fighting down a small smile. Angela hoped she wasn't smiling

"D." She answered.

They shared one quick kiss, before they resumed their conversation.

"You do not seem surprised to see me here." Angela stated.

Dwight practically laughed. "Of course I'm not surprised, Monkey. You're so great at following instructions, you don't even need the instructions. I'd no doubt you would come here."

Angela thought about telling Dwight that, in a place like Dunder Mifflin, you needed to be good at not getting instructions, because those didn't come often. She ultimately decided against it; she didn't want to argue about Michael Scott's leading tactics on Valentine's Day of all moments.

•••

Some later, Angela and Dwight were eating dinner. Mose had made fried chicken, and it turned out significantly better than what Angela had envisioned.

During their meal, they spoke a bit about their day at work. Dwight spent most of the time complaining about Jim (and Pam as collateral). Angela did not have a good opinion of the young salesman, but she had to secretly admit she sometimes felt some - for the lack of a better word - sympathy for the receptionist and her situation.

Dwight was ranting about Jim's bad use of his time, and Angela was admiring the way the veins in his neck popped when he complained, when Mose interrupted them.

Mose lifted a bottle, looking at them.

"Not yet, Mose!" Dwight whispered under his breath.

"Oh." Mose said simply.

They argued for a while in German. Angela was too much of a beginner at the language to get more than a few words. Wine, too soon, bad.

Dwight then sighed loudly, before turning towards her.

"Monkey, question: what do you think this is?"

"It is wine." Angela answered, looking at the deep red liquid swaying inside the bottle.

"It's more than that." Dwight said.

She stared at it for a while longer, and then thought about Dwight's farming skills.

"Handmade wine?" She guessed.

"Yes." Dwight said, lips curling into a smile. "Well, I guess that feetmade was a more accurate description, seeing as Mose and I had to step in quite a large amount of grapes in order to make this." He laughed loudly, in the way he only did when they were far away from work.

Mose handed her the bottle, and Angela admired it quietly for a second.

"So?" Dwight tries to sound nonchalant, but she could hear the anxiety underneath his words.

With the entire day's events in her mind, Angela lifted her head.

"I love you."