Table 1 - Action / Adventure
|01. Fire||02. Crash||03. Natural disaster||04. Crime||05. Explosion|
|06. Fight||07. Missing||08. Escape||09. Encounter||10. Attack or Defense|
"Oh, be careful there, Fire Guy." Kevin warns as Ryan slots a bagel into the toaster. Ryan good naturedly gives a half smile, but he turns back to the toaster and scowls. Jim watches all this with a smirk.
Kevin chuckles himself out of the breakroom, two doughnuts in hand. Jim comes up behind Ryan then.
"Not the most innaccurate nickname ever." He says nonchalantly.
"What?" Ryan snaps, using his ever easy to deploy unfriendliness that gets him through working at Dunder Mifflin.
"You." Jim says, sounding like Ryan really should know what he's talking about. "Your sex is on fire."
Ryan gives a snort of laughter and meets Jim's eyes, trying to keep up his unpleasant facade but it's falling to the twist of smile on his lips.
"And yoooou..." Jim continues, backing out of the break room with a dance in his step. "Your sex is on fire!" He twirls and continues the chorus, clapping his hands above his head while Ryan finally bursts into laughter as the door closes behind him.
Jim's following Ryan home from work, he's exhausted and frustrated - a standard mix of emotions, the aftertaste of Dunder Mifflin - as he idles behind Ryan's car, watching the red tail lights in the dark. It's late fall, just short of actual snow, but Jim goes to work in the dark, and goes home in the dark, which just adds to the general malaise. He almost jumped for joy when he found the pink highlighter stashed in his pencil cup, the signal that Ryan leaves that begins these little trysts.
Ryan sees the other car before Jim does, who only has a split second to wonder why Ryan starts turning his car sharply in front of him when the other car t-bones into the side of it. Jim's car's still in drive and creeping forward slowly completely unaware until he snaps out of, slams it into park and flings the door open. He runs to Ryan's driver side and yanks open the door.
Ryan's looking confused and bewildered, and blood is gushing from his broken nose. His eyes are already starting to bruise and swell up. Jim pushes the air bag out of the way and asks "Are you okay?" and it comes out a little more hysterical than he's ever heard himself before.
Ryan takes a long time to answer, but he gulps and grimaces and says "I think...so." He doesn't move, and Jim's spinning brain finally comes back to something he probably learned in Health class in middle school: Ryan might be going into shock.
There are footsteps coming from behind him and a squeaky voice says "I called the police." It's a kid, not much younger than Ryan or him, looking shell shocked and freaked, clutching a cell phone in one hand. He looks relatively unharmed except for a vague limp.
"Good." Jim manages and looks back to Ryan, whose eyes are starting to close, and it almost looks like he's nodding off at his cubicle, not bleeding at an intersection. Jim shakes him, then freaks out worrying if he should have done that when Ryan groans.
"Kind of ruined our night, huh?" Ryan says, and he's not smiling but Jim gives a wane laugh anyway. He can hear sirens in the distance.
03. Natural Disaster
The storm's getting worse as the day goes on, and in a move that actually puts Michael Scott above other managers he sends everyone home for safety. Ryan's trying to hustle him out the door, but Jim's hesitating, waiting for Pam as she gathers her things.
"Just wait, please." he says to Ryan and Ryan sighs but stays put.
The three of them leave the building together, Ryan holding his briefcase in front of his face, Pam huddling in her coat against the whipping winds. Jim distantly hears a snap and a whooshing noise and suddenly a large branch is not only falling from the tree at the edge of the parking lot, but being carried by the wind right for them.
He yelps and reaches out, grabbing an arm and jumping back. The branch lands at their feet, shaking and scraping across the ground.
Jim recovers himself, still trembling slightly. Then he notices whose arm he's holding. Pam's staring at the branch looking shaken, Jim's hand's wrapped around her puffy pink coat, right above her elbow. He whips around to Ryan, who's staring at him, the wind and rain hitting his face, looking stricken.
They cooperate, they fork over their wallets and their watches and keep their hands up otherwise. The mugger runs off into the shadows of an alley, the details of his face lost under a heavy hood. Jim's shaking, and the gleam of the knife still flashes in his mind. He wants nothing more than to pull Ryan close and kiss his face and for someone to tell him it's not a big deal, no one got hurt. But Ryan's fuming and swearing, his watch was a genuine Rolex.
"I don't know, I think the microwave exploded."
"Halpert...why would your microwave explode?"
"How should I know. Mark gets drunk, puts tinfoil in there."
"Tinfoil? Jeez...and he's the only one who does that?"
"What are you accusing me of Howard?"
"Right now? Just crushing me, geroff. Though that was a lovely swan dive you made to push me out of the way, Superman."
"At your service."
"..What are you smiling at?"
"Oh nothing, I think the no eyebrow look is totally in vogue now."
He's never been in a fight, not one that didn't include his brothers holding him down and spitting in his mouth anyway, but he's fairly certain that he wouldn't be very good in one. Still, he is kind of amazed when even 5'8" Ryan can get him in a headlock.
"Where were you?" Jim asks, blustering into the break room after Ryan.
"Out. With friends." Ryan says, not even looking up from the fridge as he stashes his lunch.
Jim leans on the counter and holds back an aggravated sigh.
Ryan spins on him. "Why?" He asks, a thick veneer of attitude in place.
Jim tries to meet his eyes, but he settles on his shoes.
"Were you..." Ryan starts to say, and Jim can make out the subtle shift in his stance from the corner of one eye. "Were you worried?"
"Shhh!" Ryan shushes him and presses a hand against Jim's perpetually smirking mouth. Jim's shaking with laughter and he has to press his fingers into Ryan's hips, which makes Ryan squirm and bite his own lips to keep from smiling.
Michael's right outside washing his hands and Ryan and Jim, interrupted mid-makeout, are both hunched in a stall, balancing on a toilet seat. Michael's humming some inane tune (which sounds suspiciously like The Thong Song) and dancing around, the sound of the paper towel hitting the floor after a missed jump shot from across the room is heard, and then Michael's grunt of effort as he leans down to pick it up. Finally, the door swings shut, but they can make out the sounds of Michael cornering some poor soul just outside.
Jim slides down, still holding firmly to Ryan's hips, sniggering as Ryan maneuvers to the floor. Ryan opens the door just enough to slip out and Jim follows behind, walking on tiptoes to the bathroom door. Ryan peeks out, and then turns to Jim and motions for him to follow.
Outside, Pam's doing her standard wide eye, nodding dog routine listening to Michael's blather, it sounds like a horribly off color joke about a blonde, a redhead and an Arab, but he's having a hard time because he keeps laughing and starting over. But he's got his back to them so Ryan can sneak out from the bathroom, with Jim right on his heels. Jim gives Pam an apologetic look and presses a finger to his lips, then follows Ryan through the break room door. Pam watches looking very, very confused.
"Halpert!" Roy's shouting across the bar, Jim hunches down in his coat. Beside him Ryan eyes Roy warily.
"Wrong bar Halpert." Roy comes up to him, weaving tipsily, his dimwitted brother at his elbow, eyeing them with a menacing glare.
For a second he thinks Roy's going to start something, then he notices the look he's giving Ryan and he says "Don't you two belong at a gay bar?"
Of course. Jim sighs.
But Roy's not done, "And I was always so worried about all that bullshit you're always pulling with Pam." He turns to his brother and laughs "Nothing to be worried about!"
Jim's about to shuffle off as quickly as he can, Ryan can follow if he wants, but suddenly Ryan's got both hands in his hair, pulling his face in and smashing their mouths together.
Jim's eyes widen and his arms flail out in a less than dignified way but he can see the look on Roy's face - a mix of surprise and disgust - and he wraps his hands around Ryan's shoulders and kisses back with all he's worth.
When Ryan pulls away he gives an exhilirated laugh and stares down Roy, who's trying to herd his gobsmacked brother back to the bar. Jim pushes his face into Ryan's temple and says "I knew there was a reason I liked you."
10. Attack or Defense
Jim hunkers down behind his barricade, panting and praying, holding his weapon tight to his chest. He licks his lips and frantically grabs for ammo, he's only got one chance to make this shot...
He hears the click of the lock.
He jumps up screaming, shooting blindly towards his target, emptying his clip.
Ryan stands in the hallway, briefcase in one hand, jacket in the other. Little neon orange Nerf darts litter the ground at his feet.
"You are twelve." He says.
Jim pulls another gun from behind his couch cushion fortress, "So you don't want to play?"
Ryan drops his briefcase, "Hell yeah, give me that."