Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to The Office. NBC does, and I am not affiliated with them in any way.

CHAPTER ONE

As Pam sat next to Roy, tensely perched on the passenger seat of his truck, she wondered: is it supposed to feel like this? Am I supposed to feel this dread, like today is the beginning of a life sentence, like I’ll never feel young and happy again, like I just want to jump out of this moving vehicle and scream?

She took a deep breath. They had talked about this. In the months after her graduation from Marywood, it had become apparent that no schools in the Scranton area were hiring art teachers. She had briefly entertained hopes of moving somewhere completely different...she had fantasized about living in New York, teaching art to private school kids, taking art classes at a big university, seeing if she could ever hack it in the art community there. But Roy didn’t want to have to live in some crappy studio apartment, which would be all they could afford. He also didn’t want to leave his friends, family, softball league, and truck behind just to hang out with a bunch of “caviar-eating snobs who just read and go to museums all the time.”

Fine, Pam had thought. Roy didn’t want to live in a big city. She thought she could be happy in a small town, too. Somewhere like Scranton, maybe just a little farther south, where the weather was a little warmer, where she could paint outside in the mornings before going to teach. She could see herself in a house near the beach, drinking tea in the morning sunlight, sitting in front of a fresh canvas, listening to the sounds of Roy getting the kids ready for school, in a house with a terrace….

But why leave Scranton? They already had their whole lives here. Their families and everyone they had known since kindergarten were all close by, Roy had said. Whenever they wanted to get away they could go up to Roy’s parents’ cabin on the lake (where they had first gone on their prom night, and where they had returned a few times a year ever since). When Pam said that she maybe just wanted to try living in a new place and meeting new people, Roy had just said she was being silly. They had everything they could ever need here. Their whole lives were set. She didn’t mention to him that that was exactly what bothered her.

Roy’s final argument had been that they needed to get married in Scranton so that all their friends and family could come. Pam had asked why they couldn’t just get married here now and then move, but then Roy had changed the subject. He had said, “Well, whatever, it doesn’t matter if there aren’t any art teacher jobs around, because they just started looking for a receptionist over at Dunder-Mifflin.”

She was sure the job would be fine; Roy had been working in Dunder-Mifflin’s warehouse ever since he had quit college and moved to Scranton so that he and Pam could live together while she finished school, and he seemed happy enough there. Pam just worried that taking a 9-to-5 office job would make her life seem even more routine, and would crush her already waning energy for drawing. But what else could she do? She and Roy were set in their apartment in Scranton. They had to pay the rent, and she had to start paying back her student loans. Roy kept reminding her that, if she really thought about it, she should consider herself lucky to have found a job close to home, working in the same building as “her man,” as he liked to refer to himself. And Pam would always ultimately admit that Roy was right.

And so here she was. Riding with Roy to her first day of work in the Scranton business park. Finding herself unable to pinpoint the exact source of her intense anxiety. Fortunately, Pam had gotten very good over the years at suppressing her feelings and putting on a happy face. That’s exactly what she did as Roy pulled into the parking lot saying, “See Pammy? I got you here 15 minutes early, just like you asked.” She gave him her best smile of approval as he parked the truck next to a maroon Corolla.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to The Office. NBC does, and I am not affiliated with them in any way.

CHAPTER FOUR

A receptionist for an office supply firm. When Pam had (reluctantly) pictured herself in this job, she had seen…paperclips. Lots of paperclips, and post-it notes. Middle-aged paper pushers. Hours of spacing out and watching the clock. She had not anticipated straining to suppress giggles while watching an office supply Mussolini locked in a battle of wits with a tall, lanky, charming Bart Simpson.

Perhaps Bart Simpson was not a fair comparison. Jim did have (marginally) better hair. And he seemed to have a good heart. Judging from her brief interaction with Dwight, Pam guessed that he deserved whatever hardship Jim was currently attempting to deny responsibility for.

“Jim, I know you did this. Every time I type my name, it says ‘daipers.’”

“That’s ridiculous. Are you sure you’re spelling it right?”

“D-W-I-G-H-T!” Dwight pounded each letter on the keyboard, then turned the screen to show the word DAIPERS spelled out in 24 point font. Pam stifled another giggle as Jim brought a hand to his mouth to cover a mischievous smile. He somehow maintained the innocent look in his eyes; Pam was impressed with his skill.

By now, other people were filtering into the office. Most gave Pam a slight smile or a quiet hello. “Oh yeah, I’m actually starting a job today,” she thought. This wasn’t the first time in her life that Pam had gotten caught up scrutinizing people, noting little expressions and using them to imagine all the layers of their personalities. In school, she often got in trouble for ignoring lectures and instead sketching her teachers and classmates in her notebooks. She hadn’t caught herself studying people like that in a long time…years, in fact. But in ten minutes this morning, she had already caught a dozen looks on Jim’s expressive face that she would have liked to sketch. Pam chalked it up to a last attempt by the artist in her to be heard before she got bogged down by this job.

Jim and Dwight continued to bicker. The other workers took no notice as they filed by, leading Pam to believe that this was a common occurrence.

“Wow, Daipers – I mean Dwight. That problem seems pretty serious. Maybe you should call IT Support.”

“Maybe I should call Michael and have you fired.”

“Hmm maybe. But I think you’re the one that will be fired if you turn in a sales report that says ‘Daipers Schrute’ all over it.”

Jim turned and focused intently on his computer screen as if confident that the reminder about the sales report would silence Dwight. It did. Dwight grunted in frustration and picked up his phone, presumably dialing IT Support. He then turned his chair away from Jim, crossed his arms, and starting bouncing his knee up and down rapidly, clearly agitated. Pam noticed the middle-aged, kind-eyed, bespectacled woman behind Dwight exchange a smirk with Jim, confirming Pam’s impression that Jim was not the enemy in this scenario.

Pam was glad that her initial impression of Jim had not been wrong after having joked with him so easily. When she thought about it, she was actually shocked that she had spoken so comfortably with a perfect stranger. She tended to keep to herself around new people, so much so that she really hadn’t made any new friends since high school. Specifically, since she had started seeing Roy. As their relationship had become more serious, she had become less social, eventually paring her circle down to just a few close female friends. Now that she lived in Scranton, she barely even spoke to those girlfriends. She certainly didn’t regularly converse with guys outside her family or Roy’s circle of friends. She knew Roy wouldn’t accept her socializing alone with other guys outside of school. She wasn’t exactly fond of most of Roy’s friends, meaning that she rarely spoke to any men besides Roy and her father. That is why her easy banter with Jim, however brief, was really a surprise. She wondered what had made her feel so comfortable and playful with him…perhaps it was because she had apparently caught him in a somewhat embarrassing moment. Or maybe her nerves were just making her act strangely. But even though it had been very out of the ordinary for Pam to be forward, it had felt good. Different and good.

The clock now read 9:05. Every desk in the room was occupied, but the office to Pam’s left remained dark and empty. She wondered if anyone was scheduled to come train her, or if she would just have to wait for the manager to arrive. For the moment she just desperately hoped the phone wouldn’t ring. She did turn on her computer, just to occupy herself. She had located Freecell and Minesweeper when she heard Dwight slam down his phone and address Jim in a vehement whisper.

“IT Support’s lines are all busy, but I know you are behind this –“

“I’m tying up IT Support’s phone lines?”

“ – you are trying to sabotage me by making it impossible for me to finish my sales report. This is just like when Saruman betrayed his fellow wizard Gandalf and tried to turn him over to the Dark Lord Sauron.”

“Okay, Harry Potter, settle down. Why don’t you just use my computer to finish your sales report, and I get on the phone with IT Support to fix your computer.” Jim rose and gestured for Dwight to take his seat. Dwight eyed him suspiciously, but stood, scoffing, “Idiot. Saruman and Gandalf are from Lord of the Rings, not Harry Potter.”

“My God, what an embarrassing mistake,” Jim said, turning to face Pam as he once again took a seat at Dwight’s desk. Their eyes met and Pam bashfully turned back to her screen. In her periphery she could tell Jim was smiling. He picked up Dwight’s phone and, in a few minutes, began speaking as if taking instructions. But as he started to work at fixing Dwight’s computer, saying, “Yes…okay…” into the phone at intervals, Pam looked down at the phone system and saw that the extension labeled “Schrute” was not lit up. She laughed silently, then heard the front door open, and a loud, piercing voice said, “Hey, laughing already? Someone must be talking about me!”

Michael Scott had arrived.

* * * *

Knowing that the prank had run its course, Jim righted Dwight’s computer, pretending to talk to IT Support just to make it look good. On another more typically boring day, Jim might have dragged it on all day, but he didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Pam. The previous receptionist, a 70-year-old name Ruth, had either been too deaf or simply too oblivious to take notice of Jim and Dwight’s spats, but Pam was proving to be an attentive and generous audience, which had Jim feeling happy to be at work for the first time in years. It was nice to know that someone over the age of ten found Jim’s sense of humor amusing. It was also nice, he added almost subconsciously, how Pam’s laugh tumbled out like bird’s song, and her smile shone brightly even from across the room.

“Geez, Halpert, pull yourself together. You just met this girl,” he thought. “You don’t know her at all.” But he smiled at the thought that he would have all day, every work day to start getting to know her.

He continued musing on what future pranks he could use to hear that laugh again, even while still cleaning up his previous prank, when he was pulled from his reverie by Michael’s noisy entrance.

“Oh please Michael, do not scare her away,” Jim begged silently, seeing the stunned look on Pam’s face as Michael greeted her.

“Woweeee aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! HUH! Foxy lady! Our last receptionist was more like…ugh. An ox. Oxey lady. In orthopedic shoes. Not that she wasn’t – I mean ox as in hard working. She was a very sweet woman. And a great receptionist. She definitely left some big shoes for you to fill…big, ugly shoes.”

Jim could practically see the wheels in Pam’s brain turning, trying to process the shocking onslaught that was Michael Scott. Jim admired how calm and warm her response managed to sound.

“Well, I’ll try my best, Mr. Scott. My name is Pam Beesly, by the way.”

“Ooh, ‘Mr. Scott.’ Submissive. Kinky!”

Pam’s eyes widened comically as Michael laughed at his own “joke.”

“As you can tell, I am very relaxed. More about making you laugh than cracking the whip. Whoa, that’s what she said!”

Pam nodded, emitting a sound that could be interpreted as either a laugh or a dry heave. Jim, having heard her lovely laugh, knew that it was the latter.

“But, seriously Pam, I’m your boss-slash-friend. Call me Michael. SLASH entertainer. So call me…Monty Python! ‘No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!’”

Jim wondered, as he had dozens of times before, if Michael thought Monty Python was a person.

Pam cleared her throat. “Okay, Michael, um, thanks. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Okay, Pam, why don’t you grab a legal pad and a pencil to take some notes, and I’ll start showing you the ropes here.” Michael launched into an explanation of the phone system, then started showing Pam around the office, introducing her first to Kevin, Oscar, Tom and Angela in accounting. Jim saw Pam greet them shyly, clutching the legal pad to her chest and looking down. Jim felt another odd urge to go to her, to place his fingers under her chin and raise her head, to make her smile that brilliant smile again…

“Finished. You may vacate my desk now,” Dwight announced.

Jim started at the sound of Dwight’s voice. “Um, yeah, great,” he mumbled, returning to his desk. He looked down and noticed that Dwight had apparently arranged all of Jim’s things at right angles while sitting there.

Jim figured that the novelty of a new receptionist was no excuse to procrastinate for the entire morning. He pulled up his client list for the day and made his first call. As he finished up about ten minutes later, Michael and Pam were finishing up greeting Phyllis and Stanley. They turned towards Jim and Dwight, and Pam gave Michael an exhausted sideways glance. Jim’s heart went out to her – he remembered feeling like he’d just babysat five toddlers after he first met Michael.

“And finally, Pam, Spam, wonderful Pam, we come to our two young studs. This is Dwight – “

“Assistant Regional Manager – “

Assistant TO THE Regional Manager, Dwight Schrute,” Michael corrected.

“Yes, Dwight already introduced himself to me as Assistant Regional Manager,” Pam said quietly, glancing over at Jim. He mouthed “I’m sorry,” gesturing to Michael and Dwight. Pam blushed and looked down quickly to hide her smile.

“Dwight is a very loyal worker, and our top salesman,” Michael said. Dwight beamed, looking up at Michael like an obedient dog awaiting a treat. “And, he’s a great, big…dork. Seriously, Star Wars, Star Trek, Stargate, you name it…Star Search! Ed McMahon. ‘Heighooooo!’” Michael cackled.

Dwight’s smile vanished. Michael continued to laugh, saying, “’Great shtuff, wonderful shtuff.’”

Jim cleared his throat pointedly.

“Ah yes, and this here is Slim Jim, Jimmy Crack Corn, Hal-Pert Plus!” Michael chirped.

“Yeah, just Jim is good, Mike.”

“Hello again, Jim,” Pam chimed in.

“Yeah, so Jim is your neighbor here,” Michael said.

“But just so you know Pam, even though we sit next to each other, you’re not allowed to copy off of me. Eyes on your own paper, please,” Jim said. He immediately regretted his stupid joke, knowing that his desire to charm her was getting the best of him. “Keep going on like this and you’ll be Michael,” he thought.

Luckily, and perhaps out of politeness, Pam laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind, Jim.”

Michael clapped his hands together. “So, I think this just about wraps up orientation. Just follow me to my office for one last piece of business, and then you can get back to your desk,” he said, leading Pam into his office. She gave Jim a slight nod and followed Michael.

Another ten minutes passed. Jim made another sales call, hearing the muffled sounds of Michael singing to the tune of Billy Joel's "Piano Man" (“Give us a ream, you’re the Paper Man!”) and blowing his train whistle from behind the office door. Soon Michael and Pam emerged once again.

“Alright, now, at some time today you just need to go back to the annex and fill out some HR paperwork with Toby…blech. I apologize in advance for Toby. He’s a creep. Aside from that, and those faxes I gave you, all you need to do is just man the phones at your desk. Now I hope you can get over there! I hope your walk hasn’t become too silly!” Michael said the last two sentences in what he probably thought was a British accent, but to Jim it sounded more Australian.

“I think I’ll be fine. Thanks,” Pam said. She walked to her desk (in a very normal, non –silly walk), dropped her legal pad, and sat down. Jim watched her out of the corner of his eye. She sat back for a moment with her eyes closed, took a deep breath, and then looked at the phone as if it might explode at any moment. It rang. Jim saw her flinch, and then she seemed to brace herself before she picked up the receiver.

“Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam,” she said in a small, shaky voice.

“Hey, Pam, it’s Jim.”

“Oh…hi!” she said, giving him a partly confused, partly relieved look over the top of her desk.

“I just thought I’d give you a little practice call.”

“Oh thanks! Hey, can I do a practice transfer for you? Who would you like to talk to…Dwight?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No no no,” Jim said, looking over at her with wide eyes. “I guess you could transfer me over to Toby. I can warn him that Michael has already tried to indoctrinate you against him.”

“Okay, transferring you to Toby…” Pam said, fumbling with some buttons. “Um...or not. Okay, could you come over here and show me how to transfer calls again?”

Jim hung up his phone, shaking his head at Pam with an expression of exaggerated disappointment. He leaned over her desk and showed her the proper buttons to press. He couldn’t help but see the legal pad lying next to the phone. The top half of the page was filled with notes in very pretty script. The bottom half of the page contained a sketch of Michael.

The sketch was rough, just capturing Michael’s broad features, but Jim was instantly struck by the resemblance. Pam had drawn him with a big, goofy grin, but she had managed to convey a loneliness in his eyes. Jim was amazed a both the skill and insight of the drawing; not many people picked up on the fact that Michael acted so ridiculous not just to get attention, but to try to get affection and friendship. Jim knew this deep down, even though he often gave Michael a hard time.

“You drew this?” Jim asked, looking Pam directly in the eyes.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to The Office. NBC does, and I am not affiliated with them in any way. I also don't own M&Ms, Doritos, Teletubbies, American Idol, Cosmo, Sex in the City, South Park, Diet Coke, Jelly Bellys, or Gracie's sandwich shop in Scranton.

CHAPTER FIVE

Pam was so embarrassed. It was bad enough that she couldn’t figure out how to transfer calls, but now Jim had seen her silly doodle. “Oh well,” she thought. “At least he didn’t see the page underneath, where I drew him…”

“You drew this?” he asked, looking directly into her eyes.

Pam nodded, blushing. For the first time, Jim was looking at her intently, not joking.

“Wow…” he said, picking up the legal pad and looking down at it with a furrowed brow. Pam watched his eyes flicker over the surface of the paper. His thoughtful expression slowly turned into a one-sided smile. He shook his head slightly.

“I guess I just got a little bored…it’s silly, I know,” Pam muttered, afraid that Jim was about to make fun of her, even more afraid that he would show Michael.

Jim looked up at her instantly, his face totally serious again.

“No, Pam, not at all….This…this drawing is amazing,” he said, looking into her eyes so earnestly that she had to look down at her desk.

“What? I mean, you think so?” Pam asked, still unsure of his sincerity. She had been sure earlier that Jim was a good guy, but she wasn’t as instantly trustworthy when he was holding something so personal of hers.

Jim nodded fervently. “Oh yeah, I mean, not only does it look exactly like Michael but…it FEELS like Michael…you know what I mean? I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s really good. You must study art pretty seriously, huh?”

Pam was shocked. No one but her mom and a couple teachers had ever been so complimentary about her art, and hardly anyone ever spoke about her pieces in depth like that. Roy usually just looked at things for five seconds, said, “That’s cool, honey,” and that was that - even with that huge watercolor landscape she had worked on for three months. Here was a silly doodle Pam had done in five minutes, and Jim was holding it reverently, like it was an original Picasso.

“Well, I majored in art education, and I guess I’ve always like to draw, and paint…” Pam said.

“Wow, that is so cool. You paint too? Awesome,” Jim said, scanning the drawing again. “You really nailed Michael here. Not just the way he looks, but it’s like you really know him.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but he kind of talks a lot, so I had a lot of time to study him.” Pam felt self-conscious talking about her work, so she took the opportunity to lighten the tone.

“Ah, so that’s all there is to it? Well I’ve spent a lot of time staring at Michael while he talks. I  mean years…and years. And I know WAY more about his personal life than I ever wanted to.”

“Well that isn’t ALL there is to it. You have to have an artistic eye. You have to be able to just look at something and see under the surface of it,” Pam said, echoing the words of an art teacher she’d once had.

“Oh, so that’s what you have? An artistic eye?”

“Um, yeah, I would say I do.” Once again, Pam was surprised at her own confidence.

“So you’re telling me you could do this with just anybody? Just look at them and know things about them?”

Of course, Pam didn’t think she could. But she decided to play along. “Of course.”

“Interesting…” Jim placed the legal pad back on Pam’s desk and put his hands in his pockets, looking down. He looked a little hesitant, like he was on the verge of saying something. He let out a puff of air and looked back up at her, saying, “Well, I’ll bet you lunch at Cugino’s that you can’t figure out something about me by the end of the day.”

Pam thought about the second page of the legal pad, and the sketches there of Jim that said what she already knew about him. The sketch of the embarrassed smile he had given her when he first saw her said that he was playful and humble. Another showed him sitting back in his chair, sleeves rolled up, his hands laced at the back of his shaggy head, his tie askew. That one said that Jim was not quite at home being a grown-up; he would put on the business clothes, but didn’t really believe in them. Pam tugged absently at her pantyhose, thinking that she and Jim had that in common.

She had a feeling she could actually win this bet.

“I have to figure out something specific?” she asked.

Jim nodded as if this was common procedure.

“Okay, what should it be?”

Jim turned slightly, leaning one elbow on the desk, and surveyed the room. His eyes fell on Kevin, who was tipping a jar of M&Ms into his mouth.

“How about my favorite candy? That’s as good as anything else.”

Pam smiled at his appropriately childish choice. “Okay, you’re on.”

“Excellent, Beesly. I’ll check back here promptly at 5,” he said in a very official tone, heading back to his desk.

As Jim got back to work, Pam realized that after talking to him, all her nerves had disappeared.  They returned, but they seemed weaker than before. She now had a project. Of course, they don’t teach you how to psychically determine a person’s food preferences in art class. Pam was not optimistic about winning the bet, but she was happy to be striking up a friendship at her new job, where she had expected to spend her days directing calls and communing with staplers.

Pam looked back down at her drawing. After hearing Jim’s praise, it somehow looked better to her too. It had felt nice to talk about her artwork again. She had spent the last year of school finishing up her education credits, and since then, she had been trying to forget that she ever was an artist so that she could bring herself to take this job. Roy had no problem forgetting that art was ever a part of her life. Her mom had stopped bringing it up, sensing that it only depressed Pam to discuss it. Besides, nearly everyone preferred to just ask Pam about Roy, their engagement, and their (non-existent) wedding plans. It had been a long since anyone had spoken to Pam, just Pam, without linking her to Roy.

Pam had arrived at Dunder-Mifflin thinking that this job was going to sever her from every hope she had ever had for the future - that it was going to crush her personality, turning her into a lifeless drone. But now she sat at her desk, adding a few details to her drawing, and felt more like herself – like Pam Beesly, not one half of “Pam & Roy” – than she had in months.

The phone rang. Pam finished a pencil stroke with her right hand and reached for the receiver with her left.

“Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam.” Her voice was steady and clear.

* * * *

This was so unlike Jim. He usually got to know a girl pretty well as friends before asking her out. He could not explain why he was so drawn to Pam at first, but he knew definitively when he saw that drawing that she was clearly special. Funny, warm, smart…and, now he knew, extremely talented and sensitive. Not to mention, naturally, strikingly beautiful. Maybe he didn’t have an artistic eye (truth be told, he could not draw at all), but he knew all those things about Pam within the first hour of meeting her.

He also knew that she didn’t quite believe she had those qualities. When he had first seen her drawing, he saw not only the sadness return to her eyes, but a fear, as if she thought he was going to mock her. It broke his heart, because he never wanted to hurt her. He knew now that he had a new goal at work, beyond annoying Dwight: making Pam smile so that he would never have to see that look in her eyes again. Luckily, it just so happened that pranking Dwight seemed to accomplish both goals quite well.

So, when Jim saw a window of opportunity for asking Pam to lunch, he jumped through it, going against his usually more laid-back nature. No, it hadn’t been an explicit invitation for a date. And of course, she probably just thought he was being a friendly co-worker. But Jim was interested to see if he could ever be more than that.

* * * *

As noon approached, the number of calls dropped off. Pam sent Michael’s faxes and then decided to fill out that HR paperwork before lunchtime.

She headed into the kitchen (trading a smile and a nod with Jim on the way), and as she approached the annex, she could hear a low, tense voice, although she could not make out any words. She hesitated at the door, seeing a man whom she assumed to be Toby slouched over his desk, clutching a phone to his ear. “Maybe now is not the best time,” Pam thought, lingering at the door. Toby hung up the phone and sat back, holding his face in his hands. “Okay, now is definitely not a good time.” Pam was about to head back to her desk when a girl about her age emerged from the bathroom.

“Ohmigod, you must be the new receptionist! Paula?”

“Yes, hi. It’s Pam, actually.”

“Oh, PAM! I probably was thinking of Paula Abdul. You know, from American Idol? That is the best show. Isn’t Kelly Clarkson SO totally great? ‘A moment like this….’ Wow, I totally cry just thinking about that song!”

Pam couldn’t believe that there was a person in this office who talked more than Michael. She nodded slowly. “Yeah, that is a really popular show.”

Kelly nodded, smiling widely. Then she gasped in surprise. “Oh, DUH! Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Kelly Kapoor. I sit back here with Toby. But now that you work here, I should try to get moved up front. I just know we would have a ton to talk about. Like, your hair, wow is it  naturally that curly? You are SO lucky, I have to use a curling iron for like an hour to get my hair to do anything….”

Pam had a feeling that Kelly always had “a ton” to talk about, whether she was conversing with a girl her age, a 70 year old man, or a tree stump. Just when Pam was beginning to fear that Kelly would never stop, Toby poked his head through the door.

“…and if you read Cosmo, we could do the quizzes together – Oh, hey Toby! I was just saying hi to Pam, have you two met?”

“Hey, Pam, I’m  Toby. Did Michael tell you about the HR paperwork?”

Pam didn’t care what Michael thought about Toby – she officially loved him forever for rescuing her from Kelly. “Yes, I was just coming back here to do that. It was nice to meet you Kelly,” Pam said, taking a very eager step toward the annex.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry, we will talk more later. See ya!” Kelly bounced over to the coffee pot, pulling a “Sex in the City” mug out of a cupboard.

Toby led Pam to his desk, pulling up a chair for her. “I couldn’t help hearing Kelly starting in on you in there, so I thought I’d give you a hand,” he said in a quiet, dry voice. Pam decided that Michael was definitely wrong – Toby was not a creep.

“Yeah, thanks…Kelly seems very friendly,” Pam said carefully.

“She is. Constantly, aggressively friendly,” Toby said with a mirthless chuckle. Pam could only imagine what it must be like to Toby to be enclosed in this room with Kelly all day every day.

“Well, here are the forms I’ll need from you,” Toby said, handing Pam a stack of papers. “And, as the HR representative, you should come to me with any complaints or concerns you might have aobut the office, or about Michael – I mean, about any of your co-workers.”

Pam could sense that the dislike between Michael and Toby was very mutual.

“And you should also know – oh, hey Jim,” Toby said, glancing up.

Jim strolled into the annex, lunch bag and dollar bill in hand. “Hey, guys,” he waved and headed into the break room.

“Sorry, Pam, could you excuse me for one second?” Toby asked, rising from his chair and fiddling with the wedding ring on his left hand.

“Sure,” Pam said. Toby went into the break room, where Jim was retrieving a can of grape soda from the vending machine. She could not help overhearing their hushed conversation, although she looked down at her HR papers and pretended not to listen.

“Hey, Jim, sorry to ask you this on such short notice, but I just got off the phone with my wife, and she scheduled an extra appointment with our counselor for tomorrow night…do you think you could watch Sasha?”

“Sure, man, I’d be glad to.”

“Oh, thank you, I really owe you for this.”

“Please, Toby. If anything, I am indebted to you. If you didn’t  let me babysit, how would I know anything about the Teletubbies? You know, that has really revolutionized my social life.”

Toby gave a genuine laugh. Pam admired Jim’s ability to handle Toby’s rather serious remarks with such grace and humor.

Both men emerged from the break room.

“Now, Toby, I’m hoping that the HR confidentiality policy extends to culinary matters?”

“What do you mean?”

Pam gave Jim an insulted look. “Excuse me, Halpert, but do you really think I would stoop so low as to just asking people what your favorite candy is? Don’t you think I have more artistic integrity than that?”

“I don’t know, Beesly. You could be capable of anything.” Jim saw Toby’s confused look and dropped his suspicious act. “Sorry, Toby, Pam and I just made this bet that she couldn’t guess my favorite candy by the end of the day.”

Toby smiled. “Well, don’t worry man, your secret is safe with me.” He returned to his desk. Jim gave Pam one last distrustful look and headed into the kitchen, where he joined Kevin at the table to eat lunch.

“Sorry for the interruption, Pam, I know you’re probably ready to head to lunch, too,” Toby said. “There’s just one last thing I needed to brief you on. That company has a policy that any romantic intra-office relationships must be disclosed to HR, so if that ever comes up, just come to me for the forms.”

“Oh – well in that case, I guess I need that form now.”

“Oh, really?” Toby looked surprised. His eyes traveled from Pam to where Jim was visible through the kitchen window.

“Yes, actually I’m engaged to Roy Anderson, who works in the warehouse.”

“Oh, alright, well you will both just need to sign these forms.” Toby retrieved yet another stack of papers from his desk, his eyes traveling from Jim to Pam’s left hand.

That was when Pam noticed it – the absence of weight from her left hand. She had left her engagement ring on the kitchen counter, forgetting to put it back on after washing dishes from breakfast. That explained Toby’s surprised look, but Pam could not explain how she could not only forget her ring but then fail to notice it for half the day.

She gathered up her papers and said goodbye to Toby, heading back to her desk feeling a bit ashamed. That feeling increased when she saw Roy enter the office just as she approached her desk.

“Hey, babe,” she said, laying a hand on his arm as she rounded the desk and took a seat.

“Hey, Pammy, how’s it going?”

“Pretty well…” Pam gave Roy an exhausted look, but he wasn’t paying attention; he was rummaging through his pocket. He pulled out the keys to his truck.

“That’s nice, honey. Listen – do you think you could drive yourself home today? We’re all going to go play poker at  Darryl’s after work, so I figure I’ll just get a ride with him.” Roy held his keys out to her, dangling them by a Hooters keychain.

“Oh…sure I guess so. Are you going to come  home for dinner, though? I kind of thought we could talk about my first day.”

“Well, you said everything’s fine, right? What, is someone giving you a hard time?”

“No, not at all...is that a sandwich in your hand?”

“Oh yeah! I had lunch at Gracie’s, so I brought you a turkey club, no mayo, and a Diet Coke, your favorite.”

“Oh, you had lunch already…great, thanks,” Pam took the sandwich. Her favorite was actually turkey, no mayo, with cucumbers, but Roy always forgot the cucumbers. And she drank regular Coke.

“So, I’ll see you at home later? Oh and one more thing. I’m out of deodorant, do you think you could stop at the store on the way home?” Roy took a few steps toward the door.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you later.” He exited the office. Pam felt relieved that he hadn’t noticed her missing engagement ring, but she also felt a little disappointed. Roy often seemed to forget that they were engaged.

Now Pam faced an unexpectedly solitary lunch hour. That was supposed to be the one perk of this job – seeing Roy during the day. Pam sighed and figured she would just head back to the break room with a newspaper or something.

She entered the kitchen to the sound of Jim and Kevin laughing.

“Hey, Pam, are you on your lunch break now? Here, this seat isn’t taken,” Jim said, pushing out a third chair. Pam smiled and sat down, even more grateful when she caught a glimpse of Kelly holding court in the break room with a weary-looking Phyllis and a very openly annoyed Angela.

“Thanks,” she said, unwrapping her sandwich. Jim crunched a Dorito.

“Hey Pam,” Kevin said in a monotone, finished off his Cup of Noodles.

“Hi…it’s Kevin, right?” Pam said. Kevin just nodded, blinking at her. Jim continued crunching, although Pam thought she heard snort of laughter.

“Well…I’m going to go back to my desk. Angela yells at me if I’m late coming back from break,” Kevin said, tossing his empty cup into the trash and getting up. “See you guys later.”

“Bye,” Pam said.

“Later Kev,” Jim said. Pam saw him exchange a look with Kevin, but when she looked back, Kevin was out of the room. Jim shook his head. “You’ll have to excuse Kevin. He’s not exactly a master conversationalist, unless you’re talking about sports, swimsuit models, or South Park.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Pam said, taking a bite of her sandwich. She looked down at Jim’s lunch and felt like she was back in her elementary school’s cafeteria. His brown bag was flattened on the table, acting as a placemat. Instead of plates, he had Ziploc bags, off of which he dined on a ham and cheese sandwich, baby carrots, and of course, his Doritos and grape soda.

Jim saw her eyeing his lunch. “I know what you’re thinking Beesly. First off, no trades. Secondly, I don’t have candy with my lunch. I wouldn’t want to spoil my appetite.”

Pam laughed. She honestly hadn’t been thinking about the bet. Besides, how much would ham and swiss on whole wheat help her with a candy bet?

A comfortable silence fell as they both ate their sandwiches.

“So Jim, tell me about yourself,” Pam said.

“Hmm…nope, can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, you’re supposed to find stuff out about me just by looking. I can’t give you any more information.”

Wow, Pam thought. He was really taking this game seriously. Two could play at that.

“Well, it doesn’t matter because I already have all the information I need.”

“Oh really?”

“Uh huh.”

“Alright, bring it. My favorite candy. Go.”

Pam had just as good a chance of guessing correctly now as she would at the end of the day. She thought for a moment. She thought about how Jim had looked when she first came into the office that morning: concentrating hard, but with a twinkle in his eye. She thought about his clothes, which were professional, but slightly askew. She thought of how Toby had trusted Jim with his personal problems and his daughter, but how Jim had managed to stay relaxed and humorous. Then there was his ham and cheese sandwich – a sack lunch staple, but grown up, being on whole wheat with swiss cheese. All these things considered, Jim was clearly a good, responsible, respected man who was also a kid at heart.

“Your favorite candy is… Jelly Bellys.”

Jim gaped at her. “Okay, you cheated. Did Toby tell you?”

“You mean I’m right?”

“How did you know? There’s no way Toby told. Did you talk to Phyllis?”

Pam beamed. “No, honest, I just came up with it myself.”

“That is unbelievable. How in the world did you figure that out?”

“I don’t know…it’s sort of a grown-up version of a kid’s candy? And that seemed to suit you…” Pam trailed off self-consciously. It felt odd to be making character judgments about someone, to his face, after only knowing him a few hours. Pam hoped he wouldn’t resent the implication that he was childish, because she certainly didn’t think it was a bad thing.

“Wow. That is amazing. I will never doubt you again,” Jim said, gathering up his lunch bag and tossing in the garbage can. He didn’t look offended in the slightest. “Well, I guess lunch is at Cugino’s tomorrow, on me.”

* * * *

Pam had entered the kitchen with that look again. That sad, lonely look. Jim offered her a seat, suddenly wishing that Kevin wasn’t there.

Luckily, Kevin made a quick exit, mouthing “Nnniiiiice” at Jim behind Pam’s back. Typical. But Jim couldn’t blame him.

Jim kept the silly bet going, partly to make Pam laugh, and also because he was determined to carry it through just to have lunch with her the next day. He had been prepared to buy lunch even if (actually, when) Pam lost the bet. What were the chances that she could guess correctly? Zero. And actually making Pam pay wouldn’t exactly be smooth.

But he was floored when she guessed Jelly Bellys.

“That is unbelievable. How in the world did you figure that out?’ Jim knew she hadn’t cheated. Truthfully, no one in the office knew him well enough to have been able to tell her.

“I don’t know…it’s sort of a grown-up version of a kid’s candy? And that seemed to suit you…” Pam blushed slightly. Jim was surprised at how insightful she really was. That sketch of Michael had been no fluke. He was almost embarrassed that she had seen through him so easily – was he really that obviously immature? – but he was actually quite proud to have resisted completely growing up, which to him would mean becoming dull and unhappy.

“Wow. That is amazing. I will never doubt you again.” He was finished with his lunch, but he didn’t get up. Let Dwight reprimand him for an extra long lunch break. “Well, I guess lunch is  at Cugino’s tomorrow, on me.” Jim hadn’t looked forward to anything this much in a long time.

Pam raised a victorious fist in the air, and Jim gave her a playfully revengeful look.

“So, you clearly have me figured out. What about the rest of the people around here?” Jim asked. They passed the rest of Pam’s lunch break discussing Pam’s thoughts about the office so far, but the time went far too quickly for Jim. Soon they were both back at their desks. Jim saw his voicemail light blinking. He dialed in.

“Hey Jim, it’s Amanda. Listen, I know we were supposed to get together tonight, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it.…Actually, I’m getting back together with my old boyfriend. I’m so sorry. You are such a nice guy, and I really was looking forward to seeing you, I just have a long history with this guy and…well, you know, I think we can make it work. So I’ll see you around.”

Jim deleted the message. He was not disappointed at all.

* * * *

Pam made it through the afternoon with only a couple visits from Michael: he stopped by once just to show her a list of nicknames for her that he was working on, and another time he somehow crawled out of his office and up to her desk, popping up and scaring the daylights out of her. Finally, five o’clock rolled around, and Pam and Jim both reached for their coats at the same time.

“Heading out?” she asked.

“Yes, I think if I have one more conversation about manila folders today, I might actually die of boredom.”

“Yeah, I’m already getting pretty good at Freecell.”

“Well, I’ll be the judge of that,” Jim said, shouldering his messenger bag. They walked out to the elevator together. “Well Pam, I hope we didn’t scar you for life here today. You will be back tomorrow, won’t you?”

Pam paused as if she were really thinking about it. “Yeah, I think I will stay here for a while.” She was surprised to find that she meant it, and that she was actually okay with it. They entered the elevator. Jim reached over to press the button for the lobby, and Pam accidentally leaned into him, smelling soap and…was that fabric softener?

“Oops…sorry.” She quickly regained her balance.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m just a little tired. It was hard work.”

“Yeah, that Freecell is a hard game…”

Pam laughed. “No, I mean figuring out your favorite candy. It took a lot out of me.”

“Well, as you now know, I am a pretty complex and interesting guy.”

“Yes, yes you are.”

Jim smiled as the elevator came to a stop. He held the doors open, then followed Pam into the parking lot. She pressed the remote to unlock Roy’s truck, and the lights flashed.

“Wow, I would never have pictured you in a pick-up truck,” Jim said, unlocking his Corolla and throwing his bag in the back seat.

“Well, I’m pretty complex and interesting myself.” Pam didn’t know why she didn’t just say it was her fiance’s car. She guessed that she was just taking the opportunity to extend the banter. The she realized that she hadn’t even mentioned Roy to anybody except Toby that day.

“Apparently. I’ll see you tomorrow, Pam.” Jim ducked into his car.

“Bye.” Pam climbed into the truck. She struggled to move the seat closer to the pedals as Jim back out of his spot, giving a final wave.

Pam felt shame coming over her again. First she forgets her engagement ring at home, then she just pretends Roy doesn’t exist for the whole day? The worst part was that she had been happier today than she had felt in months.

“Well it’s only natural that you and Roy would be a little sick of each other. You’ve been arguing about moving, and setting a date, and this job…you just needed a little break from each other,” Pam reasoned. Strange, that her first day at work had felt like a break. She supposed she had her new friend Jim to thank for that.

“A friend who doesn’t even know you are engaged,” Pam thought, still bewildered at her behavior. That would be awkward to explain tomorrow. Tomorrow at lunch…she gasped. Did Jim think the lunch tomorrow was a date?

“Sure. A cute, nice guy takes one look at the receptionist in no make-up and a baggy cardigan, sees her weird drawings and instantly thinks, ‘hubba-hubba.’ Get a grip, Pamela,” she thought, shaking her head. “I’m sure Jim was just being nice because you’re the new girl.”

She put the truck in gear and backed out, heading to the store to pick up Roy’s deodorant. She smiled, thinking to herself, “Maybe I’ll pick up some Jelly Bellys while I’m there…”