Paper Thin (Jim Halpert/The Office Fanfiction)

Chapter Two

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Just a quick reminder that these events are not going to be exactly like the show. I plan to rearrange my favorite events, so I hope you all still like it!

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"He's driving me crazy!"

I'm sit aggressively next to Jim in the break room, popping the tab of my cherry coke. I huff violently. Dwight has been getting on both of our nerves today, especially mine.

"I know. Do you think we could get away with murder? I know, it's a long shot. But hear me out," says Jim. He dives into a deeply detailed account of murdering Dwight and burying him in his beet field. He talks hurriedly as he carries on his joke and sometimes stumbles on my words, as if his mouth can't keep up with his brain.

"You know, that is a very good idea. The beet juice would cover up all the blood," I say, tapping my temple with my finger, just as Toby walks in. As our HR representative, he probably doesn't want to hear that we are somewhat unironically planning Dwight's murder.

"Oh, hey Toby," I say, nonchalant.

"Hey Rachel," Toby says in his normal, monotone voice. He clearly heard what I said, but instead starts talking to me about if my cherry coke is refreshing. I say yes, and he leaves.

Jim looks at me, stiffling a laugh. Looking at his pink, strained face is all it takes to make me crack. Then I get the hiccups and I find Jim counting down enthusiastically as I hold my breath to get rid of them.

We return to our desks where Dwight seems to be peacefully entering data into his computer. Yeah, you're not so innocent buddy.

Jim's phone rings and my heart skips. Today is the day where he will get 25 percent of his commission for the entire year. Mr. Decker is a huge client of his, and if the call goes well he has a tiny bottle of champagne to celebrate with me later. It makes me happy to be a part of Jim's little victories.

I've been at Dunder Mifflin for a little under three weeks. During that time, I have grown close to the people here, practically against my will. Pam is my new best friend. I walk up to her desk at least twenty times a day just to tell her about how cute Jim is. She is the only person who knows about my little crush. She gets excited every time I come to her desk as if my life is some after school special. Her and Jim are good friends and she thinks that I should just "go for it". There are a few problems with me "going for it" that are highly personal, but she doesn't need to know that. For now, I am enjoying my little crush with just a subtle touch of guilt that disappears every time I see Jim smile.

Jim and I are even closer than Pam and I. He makes this job so much more enjoyable. Ever since my first day, we have settled into a routine. We eat lunch together, email most of the day, and he always waits for me to finish my work so he can walk me to my car. Now that I am settled in, he doesn't have to wait any longer than ten minutes, but still. It's sweet.

Jim starts his phone conversation with his client, and half way through Dwight decides that he needs to shred some paper. He's just gotta shred that paper. The loud whirring of the shredder drowns out all the other noise of the office.

"Hello? Mr. Decker? What did you say, I didn't get that." Jim tries to continue his phone call with his biggest client of the year, plugging one ear and glaring at Dwight. Dwight continues to shred paper.

I reach over and unplug the paper shredder. I know how much this means to Jim.

"Ah, there you are Mr. Decker. Sorry about that. As I was saying...."

Dwight reaches over and pushes the button on Jim's receiver, abruptly ending the call.

"Wow Dwight," I say, extremely angry now.

"Tit for tit," he says. I roll my eyes.

"That is not the expression," says Jim, obviously irritated.

"It should be."

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Around lunchtime, Jim comes into the break room and sits down with his ham and cheese sandwich, smiling at me.

"Hey O'Neal," he says. Jim grins at me so big that my heart nearly explodes. It's been almost three weeks and I am still not used to that smile.

"Hey, you," I say back, my voice involuntarily dropping an octave. He blushes. Wait...he blushes?

We sit and eat our food, him with his ham and cheese, me with my ramen noodles, then we get up to return to another five hours of Dwight.

As I'm walking out of the breakroom, Jim leans against the vending machine, groaning. Wow, that is a nice sound.

I smile at him sweetly, reach over to adjust his tie, and walk out of the door giving him an air five on my way out.

I like Jim. There's no denying it. He's funny, cute, and very sexy. I have never been the type of girl to sit longingly and wait for a guy to ask me out. Usually, I make the first move. And oh, how I wish I could make some moves at Jim. There wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for what happened in LA. But I can't risk a relationship right now.

I try to keep my time with Jim extremely lighthearted. I never talk about anything too deep about myself. I answer his questions about my personal life with questions about his. If it's lighthearted, I can't hurt him.

At the end of the day, I see Jim getting up to put on his coat. I get up and give him a look that he knows means I want to talk to him in the break room. We do this so often to talk about Dwight that it is practically second nature by now.

"Hey, what's up?" Jim asks me as we reach the break room. He seems a little down. He is turned into me, though, giving me his full attention. I look at his light blue shirt with matching tie and linger my gaze for a moment, just a moment.

"What, no champagne?" I ask. He must have forgotten it at his desk.

"Ah...no. Don't worry about it," he says, looking down.

"Did you not make the sale?" I ask gently.

"Um no. Dwight stole it," he says, pursing his lips.

"What? Oh my God I'm gonna kill him. Come on, we'll be like Bonnie and Clyde. The beet farm plan is full proof!" I'm getting angrier by the second. "What happened?"

"How about I tell you the whole story over coffee?"

I freeze. Coffee? Oh shit. That sounds like a date. Oh my God I really want to go on a date with Jim Halpert. Be strong Rachel, you really really really can't do it.

The words come out of my mouth without permission. "Sounds perfect. I'll ride with you," I say, breaking my resolve.

This is a bad idea.

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Thanks for reading! I hope the parts about LA aren't too confusing. Sometimes things make sense in my head but they don't translate well onto paper. Let me know in the comments if you enjoyed...or even understood. 😁 Thanks! Vote if you enjoyed, I really appreciate it!

Reneé