Scranton, PA. 2008
Jun. 7th, 2010 01:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
barkinmadHey, I'm not sure if I ever posted this on my journal. It's from a while ago, but kind of fun.
Title: Scranton, PA. 2008.
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
barkinmad
Fandom: The Office/Second Doctor
Rating: PG
Character(s): The Office; Two, Jaime, Zoe
Spoilers for: Season Four of The Office
Notes: I’d like to thank the countless people who listened to me complain about how I signed up for yet ANOTHER fic exchange (I love these things, I do) and who laughed at my Michael jokes, even if I didn’t think they were funny. A special thank you goes out to Moose, although she’ll never read this, for spending an hour and a half on the phone with me talking and scheming about two shows she knows almost nothing about.
Ten thirty. Tuesday. Michael hasn’t come out of his office yet, so chances are that he’s planning a “big surprise” for later. Jim’s got five dollars on something to do with Twinkies, while Pam has taken the more practical route, naming Ho Hos. She thinks he’d get more puns out of the product name that way.
Dwight has been busy with his latest project: protecting the rest of the office from Creed. Fortresses have been built and toppled. Currently he’s going through the process of planning an “air raid” that consists of paper airplanes with fake pink slips attached by paper clips. Jim is Assistant General and organizing the fleet formation while Pam is drawing designs on the wings. Meredith has put up a gray portable wall which, although she feels confined, considers it a plus that Michael can’t see her or her bottle of vodka.
“I told you a wanted it lavender!”
“Baby, it is lavender!” Darryl soothes, following Kelly through the front door toward the cubicles in back.
“That is NOT lavender, that is orchid!” The office used to be a lot quieter when Ryan would just silently suffer in the back.
Aside from these regrettably normal occurrences, the day had started off pretty well, and there was hope that some work might be done. Stanley is heading downstairs to drop off last week’s pile of newspapers that he keeps stacked up under his desk. It’s a sign that he’s almost ready for his mid-morning crossword, so Jim backs out of the way. Turns out that was a good idea, because Michael all of the sudden heaves open his door, releasing a rush of air that carries the newspapers out of Stanley’s hand, while the jolting sound of the knob hitting the inner wall practically scares the guy to death.
Of course Michael doesn’t take any account of this.
“I heard a noise!”
“It’s just the garbage people,” Pam explains, “We went over this last week, remember?”
“No, it wasn’t a grinding noise, it was a whirring noise.”
Pam looks at Jim, who looks back at her.
“What kind of whirring noise?” Angela asks. If the Apocalypse is coming she’s canceling her new shipment of yarn.
“It was just this kind of...whooosh whoooooosh whooooosh.” It only makes sense that Michael would make accompanying hand motions. His ever expanding movements knock over Pam’s pencil holder and sends her favorite blue Sharpie and assorted colored pencils scattering across the floor.
“Even if there was a noise, what’s it matter?” Stanley asks.
“Maybe it’s a starship!” Dwight answers, to no one’s delight. “Or possibly they only want us to think it’s a starship.”
“Whose they, Dwight?”
“The starchildren, of course.”
Jim doesn’t have time to respond, because there’s a loud clattering in the hallway, and Rachel has to make a mad rush to the doorway with her camera to get footage of the disturbance while David stays behind to get the “inside action” as they’ve begun referring to it.
Voices can be heard from the hallway, and they don’t sound American, which is not the oddest thing about them. From what is heard, there seems to be a man and two teenagers, a boy and girl, but none of their voices seem alike in the least.
“Jamie! I told you to be careful!”
“I’m tryin’, Doctor, but these hallways don’t leave too much room!” The boy’s accent is almost incomprehensible. Dwight’s already attempting to transcribe the conversation, but no one will answer him when he asks for a repeat.
“Now hush, I’m trying to find this refrigerator place.”
Phyllis mouths ‘That’s Vance’s store!”, which is received by some nods and an eye roll from Michael.
There’s some scuffling as the boy is supposedly being helped up.
At this point, the entire office is quiet, gathered around Pam’s desk, and trying to see through the door into the hallway. Of course Jim has the best view, because he’s leaning closest to Pam.
“Refrigerators? Doctor, refrigerators went out of use thousands of years ago! Haven’t you heard of insta-freeze?” That’s the girl. She has a slightly high-pitched, intelligent voice that Angela appreciates but unsettles Pam.
“Aye, what’s a refrig-refrigerator?”
“Oh, you two.”
That’s when the door to Dunder Mifflin opens and a man dressed as a hobo, with his two companions trailing behind him, appears in the doorway. The door swings open so quickly that Rachel nearly backs over herself trying to get some distance. She would have slammed her back into the edge of Pam’s desk if Pam hadn’t held a hand out for her.
“Doctor! What is that thing?” says the boy, pointing at the camera. He’s a wearing a kilt and a haircut that would maybe look like Jim’s if he hadn’t touched it in three months.
“Why, it’s a video camera, Jamie!” says the girl, answering the inquiry as if these types of questions were an every day occurrence. She is wearing a short black sleeveless dress and a straw hat with a huge pink flower in it. She’s also carrying a pair of red shoes with one broken heel. “Is it recording?”
“Zoe, no!” calls out the man, but it’s too late because Zoe is approaching the camera head on. She examines it for a second and then giggles.
“This thing doesn’t even have a 3D prospect, Doctor!”
No one but these three are speaking. Creed is back at his desk, the whites in Stanley’s eyes are showing, and Angela is in a corner praying. Pam and Jim are just looking around blankly. Dwight, however, is having a field day and fully supports Michael in his joy at finding new people to impress.
“Oh my, this doesn’t look like a refrigerator store,” says the hobo-man, wringing his hands, looking worriedly between Zoe, who is now full-out laughing into the camera, and Jamie, who looks thoroughly confused at everything. Until that is, he sees Pam.
“Aye, and what a pretty lassie you are,” he says, moving past Zoe towards the reception desk. “Is there a reason future girls wear their skirts so short?”
“Um,” Pam blushes, rolling away a little, “I’m not sure...well, I don’t...”
“You don’t have to complain to me twice,” Jamie continues, despite the Doctor flailing wildly in the corner.
Pam blushes again. Jim isn’t really worried about her falling for someone so young, but the accent and charm might be a problem. However, before Jim can even say a word, Michael makes his move.
“Oh, I see you’re a Scotsman!”
“Yea,” Jamie says tentatively, already sensing what’s about to come.
“I’m almost Scottish myself! I certainly drink like one, if you know what I mean!” Michael’s laughs ring loud and clear in the otherwise silent room. “You want to trade war stories? Because I’ve certainly got tons of them, like this one time I was with a ho-...well I better not. Don’t want to offend the ladies.” He gave a wink to Pam, who backed further away from her desk. “Do you actually eat haggis? I can’t imagine ever eating that stuff, can you? I mean, it’s just disgusting. But I guess every culture has its faults...”
“Jamie! No!” Zoe warned.
Jamie was seconds from putting his full weight behind his fist and slamming it into Michael’s head. His anger had been visibly rising from about the time Michael winked, but a subtle eye could tell he was clearly irked even before then. If it hadn’t been for Zoe’s scream, Michael wouldn’t have had time to duck and miss the boy’s swing, but as it was, he totally remained clueless anyway.
Probably thinking it’s a game, or more precisely “The Scottish Way”, he tackles Jamie by the legs.
The man the kids called Doctor is there before Jamie’s head even hits the ground. He hurriedly helps the boy up and starts dusting him off, never once pausing from his steady stream of scolds and nitpicks.
“Now, really, Jamie, I told you not to get into any more fights, it’s very unbecoming of a young man like you, and I don’t like seeing you wrestle about on the floor as if you were some sort of barbarian.”
“I tried, Doctor.”
“Well, you shouldn’t throw punches like that! Really, you could have hurt any one of us with a blow that wide. Ignorance should never be fought with violence, Jamie.”
Jamie visibly heads his head in shame. Now all Jim can do is feel sorry for the kid.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, whispering into his ear. “Michael probably doesn’t even know what happened.”
Their boss was still lying on the floor, apparently stuck in the position he had landed in. Dwight eventually goes over to help him up, attempting to show the same care and affection the doctor man showed Jamie. Michael bats Dwight’s hands out of the way, opting to straighten out and brush off his own jacket.
“Now, this obviously isn’t a refrigerator store,” the doctor man said, surveying the small room and the claustrophobic cubicles. “I think it’s high time we should be going. Sorry for the disturbance! Good bye.”
With that, the man grabs the girl by the hand and heads toward the door. Then he turns back.
“Jamie!”
Jamie is leaning over Pam’s desk again wearing a foolish grin, which quickly fades at the sound of his name. “Aw, but Doctor!”
“Now, Jamie!” The young man grumbles as he heads out the door.
Kelly pops her head out from the other side of the room, her lipstick smeared and Darryl behind her, obviously in disarray.
“Did we miss anything?”
Title: Scranton, PA. 2008.
Author:
barkinmadFandom: The Office/Second Doctor
Rating: PG
Character(s): The Office; Two, Jaime, Zoe
Spoilers for: Season Four of The Office
Notes: I’d like to thank the countless people who listened to me complain about how I signed up for yet ANOTHER fic exchange (I love these things, I do) and who laughed at my Michael jokes, even if I didn’t think they were funny. A special thank you goes out to Moose, although she’ll never read this, for spending an hour and a half on the phone with me talking and scheming about two shows she knows almost nothing about.
Ten thirty. Tuesday. Michael hasn’t come out of his office yet, so chances are that he’s planning a “big surprise” for later. Jim’s got five dollars on something to do with Twinkies, while Pam has taken the more practical route, naming Ho Hos. She thinks he’d get more puns out of the product name that way.
Dwight has been busy with his latest project: protecting the rest of the office from Creed. Fortresses have been built and toppled. Currently he’s going through the process of planning an “air raid” that consists of paper airplanes with fake pink slips attached by paper clips. Jim is Assistant General and organizing the fleet formation while Pam is drawing designs on the wings. Meredith has put up a gray portable wall which, although she feels confined, considers it a plus that Michael can’t see her or her bottle of vodka.
“I told you a wanted it lavender!”
“Baby, it is lavender!” Darryl soothes, following Kelly through the front door toward the cubicles in back.
“That is NOT lavender, that is orchid!” The office used to be a lot quieter when Ryan would just silently suffer in the back.
Aside from these regrettably normal occurrences, the day had started off pretty well, and there was hope that some work might be done. Stanley is heading downstairs to drop off last week’s pile of newspapers that he keeps stacked up under his desk. It’s a sign that he’s almost ready for his mid-morning crossword, so Jim backs out of the way. Turns out that was a good idea, because Michael all of the sudden heaves open his door, releasing a rush of air that carries the newspapers out of Stanley’s hand, while the jolting sound of the knob hitting the inner wall practically scares the guy to death.
Of course Michael doesn’t take any account of this.
“I heard a noise!”
“It’s just the garbage people,” Pam explains, “We went over this last week, remember?”
“No, it wasn’t a grinding noise, it was a whirring noise.”
Pam looks at Jim, who looks back at her.
“What kind of whirring noise?” Angela asks. If the Apocalypse is coming she’s canceling her new shipment of yarn.
“It was just this kind of...whooosh whoooooosh whooooosh.” It only makes sense that Michael would make accompanying hand motions. His ever expanding movements knock over Pam’s pencil holder and sends her favorite blue Sharpie and assorted colored pencils scattering across the floor.
“Even if there was a noise, what’s it matter?” Stanley asks.
“Maybe it’s a starship!” Dwight answers, to no one’s delight. “Or possibly they only want us to think it’s a starship.”
“Whose they, Dwight?”
“The starchildren, of course.”
Jim doesn’t have time to respond, because there’s a loud clattering in the hallway, and Rachel has to make a mad rush to the doorway with her camera to get footage of the disturbance while David stays behind to get the “inside action” as they’ve begun referring to it.
Voices can be heard from the hallway, and they don’t sound American, which is not the oddest thing about them. From what is heard, there seems to be a man and two teenagers, a boy and girl, but none of their voices seem alike in the least.
“Jamie! I told you to be careful!”
“I’m tryin’, Doctor, but these hallways don’t leave too much room!” The boy’s accent is almost incomprehensible. Dwight’s already attempting to transcribe the conversation, but no one will answer him when he asks for a repeat.
“Now hush, I’m trying to find this refrigerator place.”
Phyllis mouths ‘That’s Vance’s store!”, which is received by some nods and an eye roll from Michael.
There’s some scuffling as the boy is supposedly being helped up.
At this point, the entire office is quiet, gathered around Pam’s desk, and trying to see through the door into the hallway. Of course Jim has the best view, because he’s leaning closest to Pam.
“Refrigerators? Doctor, refrigerators went out of use thousands of years ago! Haven’t you heard of insta-freeze?” That’s the girl. She has a slightly high-pitched, intelligent voice that Angela appreciates but unsettles Pam.
“Aye, what’s a refrig-refrigerator?”
“Oh, you two.”
That’s when the door to Dunder Mifflin opens and a man dressed as a hobo, with his two companions trailing behind him, appears in the doorway. The door swings open so quickly that Rachel nearly backs over herself trying to get some distance. She would have slammed her back into the edge of Pam’s desk if Pam hadn’t held a hand out for her.
“Doctor! What is that thing?” says the boy, pointing at the camera. He’s a wearing a kilt and a haircut that would maybe look like Jim’s if he hadn’t touched it in three months.
“Why, it’s a video camera, Jamie!” says the girl, answering the inquiry as if these types of questions were an every day occurrence. She is wearing a short black sleeveless dress and a straw hat with a huge pink flower in it. She’s also carrying a pair of red shoes with one broken heel. “Is it recording?”
“Zoe, no!” calls out the man, but it’s too late because Zoe is approaching the camera head on. She examines it for a second and then giggles.
“This thing doesn’t even have a 3D prospect, Doctor!”
No one but these three are speaking. Creed is back at his desk, the whites in Stanley’s eyes are showing, and Angela is in a corner praying. Pam and Jim are just looking around blankly. Dwight, however, is having a field day and fully supports Michael in his joy at finding new people to impress.
“Oh my, this doesn’t look like a refrigerator store,” says the hobo-man, wringing his hands, looking worriedly between Zoe, who is now full-out laughing into the camera, and Jamie, who looks thoroughly confused at everything. Until that is, he sees Pam.
“Aye, and what a pretty lassie you are,” he says, moving past Zoe towards the reception desk. “Is there a reason future girls wear their skirts so short?”
“Um,” Pam blushes, rolling away a little, “I’m not sure...well, I don’t...”
“You don’t have to complain to me twice,” Jamie continues, despite the Doctor flailing wildly in the corner.
Pam blushes again. Jim isn’t really worried about her falling for someone so young, but the accent and charm might be a problem. However, before Jim can even say a word, Michael makes his move.
“Oh, I see you’re a Scotsman!”
“Yea,” Jamie says tentatively, already sensing what’s about to come.
“I’m almost Scottish myself! I certainly drink like one, if you know what I mean!” Michael’s laughs ring loud and clear in the otherwise silent room. “You want to trade war stories? Because I’ve certainly got tons of them, like this one time I was with a ho-...well I better not. Don’t want to offend the ladies.” He gave a wink to Pam, who backed further away from her desk. “Do you actually eat haggis? I can’t imagine ever eating that stuff, can you? I mean, it’s just disgusting. But I guess every culture has its faults...”
“Jamie! No!” Zoe warned.
Jamie was seconds from putting his full weight behind his fist and slamming it into Michael’s head. His anger had been visibly rising from about the time Michael winked, but a subtle eye could tell he was clearly irked even before then. If it hadn’t been for Zoe’s scream, Michael wouldn’t have had time to duck and miss the boy’s swing, but as it was, he totally remained clueless anyway.
Probably thinking it’s a game, or more precisely “The Scottish Way”, he tackles Jamie by the legs.
The man the kids called Doctor is there before Jamie’s head even hits the ground. He hurriedly helps the boy up and starts dusting him off, never once pausing from his steady stream of scolds and nitpicks.
“Now, really, Jamie, I told you not to get into any more fights, it’s very unbecoming of a young man like you, and I don’t like seeing you wrestle about on the floor as if you were some sort of barbarian.”
“I tried, Doctor.”
“Well, you shouldn’t throw punches like that! Really, you could have hurt any one of us with a blow that wide. Ignorance should never be fought with violence, Jamie.”
Jamie visibly heads his head in shame. Now all Jim can do is feel sorry for the kid.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, whispering into his ear. “Michael probably doesn’t even know what happened.”
Their boss was still lying on the floor, apparently stuck in the position he had landed in. Dwight eventually goes over to help him up, attempting to show the same care and affection the doctor man showed Jamie. Michael bats Dwight’s hands out of the way, opting to straighten out and brush off his own jacket.
“Now, this obviously isn’t a refrigerator store,” the doctor man said, surveying the small room and the claustrophobic cubicles. “I think it’s high time we should be going. Sorry for the disturbance! Good bye.”
With that, the man grabs the girl by the hand and heads toward the door. Then he turns back.
“Jamie!”
Jamie is leaning over Pam’s desk again wearing a foolish grin, which quickly fades at the sound of his name. “Aw, but Doctor!”
“Now, Jamie!” The young man grumbles as he heads out the door.
Kelly pops her head out from the other side of the room, her lipstick smeared and Darryl behind her, obviously in disarray.
“Did we miss anything?”
