Drawn

Cocktail Party

David leaned against the doorframe as he looked around the room. "God, I hate these parties," he mumbled to himself. His first few years of hosting were fine. It was a great opportunity to meet people, but nowadays after an hour of schmoozing and making small talk, he was done. He mainly kept it up year after year because it had become something that the other offices looked forward to, and he honestly couldn't bear to disappoint them by taking it away.

He glanced around looking for Jim, and when he couldn't find him he casually made his way out back where he planned to shoot some hoops by himself for a while. When he opened the door he heard the sound of a ball bouncing and wondered if his friend had beat him to the court. But at closer look he saw someone else whom he decided he preferred to Jim. He watched her for a second before making his way over and breathed out a soft chuckle when she drained a basket. His duties as host had kept him from spending much time with Charlotte this evening. Really the most he had seen of her had been when she first arrived, and since it had been two weeks since he last saw her in Scranton, he was dying to be near her again.

EARLIER THAT EVENING:

The Scranton crew stood on the doorstep of David's home and waited as Michael pressed the doorbell over and over again.

"Maybe we should just walk in?" Pam whispered to Jim, who shrugged and started to move toward the front of the group so that he could open the door. But at that moment it swung open to reveal a smiling David.

"I had a feeling that was Scranton come to crash the party," he grinned. "Come in, come in," he ushered everyone inside, shaking Michael's hand, then Dwight's and Angela's. He pulled Jim in for a hug and slap on the back before giving Pam a quick hug as well. Charlotte was the last of the group to enter, and she was pretty sure the hug he gave her lingered a second longer than what most people would deem appropriate for a boss-employee relationship.

Now, he walked up to her, glad they could have a few minutes alone.

"Aren't you supposed to be hosting a party?" Charlotte said when he was within earshot. Her shoes had been kicked off, and David watched, amused, as she dribbled the ball with one hand and held her wineglass with the other.

"They don't need me in there," he replied, rolling up his sleeves and moving to stand under the basket. He gave a slow clap when Charlotte shot the ball one-handed and it swished easily through the hoop. She dipped into a small curtsy and walked over to where he stood, now with the ball in hand. It was then that David noticed her red-rimmed eyes, and his amusement promptly faded.

"Are you going to give me the runaround if I ask you what's wrong?" he asked.

Charlotte smiled sadly and shook her head. "Of course not," she whispered back. She took another sip from her wineglass and sighed deeply, but still didn't answer. David waited. Finally, she held out her hand for the ball and David passed it over. She dribbled for a few seconds and tossed it up from under the rim, the net giving a quiet swish when the ball went in.

"I'd hate to see what you could do in a pair of sneakers and without a glass of wine in your other hand."

Charlotte chuckled in response and passed him the ball. He took it out mid-court and shot, making it easily off the backboard.