How had they gotten into this situation? Jim wondered, trying to slow his breathing. It had happened so fast, like a flash. And it was so completely weird for life at Dunder Mifflin. Was he dreaming? No, it was all too real and scary to be a dream. They really were creeping along in an air duct above the ceiling of the office. Jim had no idea where they'd end up, other than hopefully, out of the office where they could formulate a plan. A plan is what they desperately needed (along with a lot of luck), because figuring it out as they went along was turning out to be a disaster. Jim hated the idea that he'd put Pam in danger like this. She was just ahead of him, though it was too dark to see her, and at that moment, his left hand was firmly grasping her ankle, his heart thumping desperately in his chest. He thought he could hear hers, too, echoing off the metal that surrounded them. He'd rather hear that than her terrified screams, which he'd heard with the spray of bullets into the ceiling moments before. The gunshots had barely missed them when the two masked men who'd invaded the office had heard the quiet (but not quiet enough) thump of Jim's and Pam's knees in the duct. They laid as still as possible while fear shook their bodies. Jim's thumb rubbed back and forth on Pam's ankle in an effort to soothe both of them as Jim peered into the office through a vent.

------

Twenty minutes earlier:

Jim was making his morning cup of coffee in the kitchen- lots of sugar, just enough milk. He was lost in thought, once again, about his current situation with Pam. Karen had gotten a job in corporate and they'd broken up, but things were still weird between Pam and himself. He couldn't sort out his feelings, didn't know if he'd get shot down again if he approached her. After all, it was still her turn. There was that confession at the beach, but was it really a confess--? His thoughts were broken into by a loud noise followed by a lot of yelling and shuffling in the front office. He looked through the window on the door, between the slats of the blinds, to see two masked men wielding guns, and ordering his coworkers into submission. In the shuffle of the office, Jim knew he hadn't been seen by the intruders yet, and as his adrenaline and survival instincts kicked in, he flattened himself against the wall, to his left, just out of sight. 

But as he was not used to the kinds of situations he found himself in at that moment, his hand was shaking enough that his grip faltered and he dropped his coffee mug. He watched in slow motion as it bounced twice before it shattered on the tile floor, the sound echoing off the walls. Hot coffee splashed onto the front of his pant legs. And the most idiotic thing ever was that for a split second, he actually mourned after his favorite coffee mug, rather than worrying that the sound of it breaking had given him away to the intruders in the other room.

Pam emerged from the Ladies' Room, mouth dropped open a little, eyes bouncing from the broken cup on the floor to the way Jim was flattened against the wall near the door. Instinctively, Jim reached out for Pam's hand, glancing behind him as he did so, and catching sight of one of the masked men heading their way. He pulled Pam towards the supply closet. "Come on," he whispered. She resisted at first, wondering what in the world was going on, but he tugged harder, pulling her into the closet with him and locking the door behind them.

"Jim, what's happening?" she asked, her voice shaky in the pitch black darkness that surrounded them.

Jim heard someone enter the kitchen just then- the quiet thump of the door closing, and footsteps passing in front of the store room. Afraid of being found, he shushed Pam, placing a hand over her lips in the dark. 

"Hey, we got more back here," he heard a man's voice call through the kitchen.

"Bring 'em out here. And make sure you got 'em all," he heard another man's voice answer. "And check the bathrooms, too. The receptionist's computer is on. She must be here somewhere."

Jim felt Pam stiffen at that, and dropped his hand from her mouth, briefly gripping her upper arm. "Hey, shh, we're fine in here," he whispered as quietly as possible.

He heard more footprints passing in the opposite direction a few moments later. He pictured his frightened coworkers- Kelly, Ryan, and Toby- being forced into the front office by gunpoint, and he knew he had to find out what was going on and save his coworkers.

Pam ended up pressed against Jim's side by the time they heard the bathroom stalls get kicked in, and the door handle to the closet they were in get jiggled violently. Once all sounds from the kitchen area had ceased, Pam spoke again in a more desperate tone, "What's happening?"

"Shh," he said, and leaned in closer to her, breathing against her ear, "Some guys just, I don't know, invaded us. They didn't see me in the kitchen, but they heard my cup break and were heading right this way as you came out of the bathroom."

"Oh."

"So, I don't know. What do we do?"

Pam was silent for a few moments. "I don't know. I mean, we can't go out there. They're in the front of the office, and there's no where to go from the annex. There aren't even any windows back there."

"I know," Jim breathed, and it was silent for what felt like forever, until Jim finally had an idea. "Hey," he started.

"What?"

"There's an air vent above the counter over there."

"How do you know?" Pam asked, turning to look up in the darkness.

"I can hear it," he said, turning the light on only long enough to prove his suspicions. "We can climb up into it and follow the ducts into another part of the building, call for help."

"Come on, Jim. An air duct? This isn't 'Die Hard'."

"Well, it's kind of like 'Die Hard'. And hey, as the good guy, Bruce Willis never dies in the 'Die Hard' movies, so this will totally be like 'Die Hard'."

"Jim..."

Jim got serious again. "It's our only chance, unless you want to sit here for hours until they come and find us while they're looking for whatever they're looking for."

"I don't know..."

He tentatively wrapped his fingers around her wrist. "Come on, it might be fun. Air ducts: a world of adventure." 

Pam laughed slightly- just a puff of air through her nose, but he knew he had her. "Okay, help me up on the counter, and I'll unscrew the vent," she said.

Jim smiled. Fancy New Beesley was back and taking charge.

"Do you think I should turn this light on? It's kind of hard to see."

"Yeah, but block the bottom of the door with something first," Pam whispered. "Or they might see the light."

"I don't even know what we've got in here."

"Then turn on the light, and we'll quickly grab stuff to put in front of the door."

Jim waved his arm around for a few moments for the string in the middle of the room that led to the bare bulb overhead. Once he found it, he gave it a pull. They glanced around the illuminated room quickly. The room was even smaller than it had seemed when the lights were out. There was just a counter that lined the back wall, with boxes of cleaning agents and sponges stacked on top and underneath. a mop and a couple of brooms leaned against the wall in the corner. Jim and Pam quickly grabbed hold of some boxes, and quietly laid them on the ground in front of the door. 

With some of the boxes moved to the floor, they were able to rearrange things on the counter in order to create a space just big enough to stand up in.

Pam looked at Jim. "Ready?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Pam hopped up onto the counter, straightening her skirt as she stood up. As she did so, she temporarily lost her balance in the narrow space she had to stand up in. But Jim immediately reached up to steady her- her body had turned towards him in her attempt to regain her balance, so both of her hands ended up in Jim's hands in front of her.

"You okay?" he asked, helping her stand up straight again. She still gripped onto his hands once she'd regained her balance. Their fingers were clumsily woven together, and Jim took this opportunity to give her hands a little squeeze of encouragement. Her cheeks turned pink as she smiled and drew her hands from his, and she immediately began to survey the air vent.

Jim tried to hide the hopeful smile he felt forming at her reaction. "No, I thought you had one."

"Jim..." she said, a hint of amusement in her voice as she continued to stare up at the air vent.

"C'mon, Beesley," he laughed, "I'm not Dwight. I don't normally carry around unnecessary tools with me."

"Well, then maybe it would have been better to be stuck in here with Dwight instead. At least he would have been prepared," Pam said with a teasing smile.

"Oh man, you're killing me." He placed a hand over his heart dramatically.

Pam laughed a little. "Well, then how do we get this vent off?"

"Got a nail file or anything?"

"In my purse... which is in my desk."

Jim searched around for anything that could unscrew the screws holding the air vent to the ceiling. "I got nothing," he finally said, shrugging.

"What about a dime?" Pam asked.

"You think that will work?"

"I don't know. Do you have one?"

Jim shoved both hands into his pockets, and a moment later, pulled his right hand out with a dime held between his thumb and forefinger. Pam smiled and reached for it.

Jim watched as she struggled at first, and was about to offer to try when the screw came loose. Then another. Soon, Pam removed all four screws, and took down the grate. She handed it over to Jim, and he leaned it up against the cement wall.

"Okay, now how do we get up there?" She asked.

Jim scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I could hoist you up, and I think if I stacked up a few things, I could get myself up in there."

"Okay," Pam said, and took a deep, shaky breath.

"Hey, it's going to be fine, okay?"

"Yeah."

"No really. I am a first class hero. I've just kept it a secret because I don't want anyone asking for my autograph."

Pam smiled a little, and after a moment to collect her nerves said, "Come on, Hero Boy. Help me up into the ceiling."

Jim climbed up onto the counter and stood next to Pam. "Okay, how are we going to do this?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Well, I could lift you up like this," he demonstrated by gripping her firmly at the waist, and lifting her up a little and then returning her to her feet. "And while you're up there, you can grab onto the vent, and I'll help you the rest of the way while you lift yourself up." His hands still hovered over her hips.

She nodded, eyebrows raised. "Um, okay."

"I promise not to look up your skirt," he added.

Pam let out a surprised laugh, and began to blush again. "Wow, okay. Um, good to know."

"Ready?" Laughter remained in his voice, and his hands landed on her hips again as he began to hoist her up. Pam reached for the hole in the ceiling, and began to guide herself in. Jim held her legs, helping her the rest of the way.

"Are you okay?" he whispered when she was completely inside. In response, he heard  shuffling around, and then a bang. They both froze. Pam's shoes had hit the metal of the duct as she was trying to turn around in order to help Jim, obviously finding it too small inside to do so. Jim stood still, listening for a few moments longer for any indication that they were heard.

"I'm sorry," Pam whispered.

"It's okay.  Just... I think we have to take our shoes off."

"Jim..."

"It's too easy to bump them and be heard."

"But how are we going to run when we get out if we have no shoes?"

"Don't worry. We  just-- we need to take our shoes off now," he said, feeling more urgent that they should already be in the ceiling and going for help.

"I don't think I can reach my feet right now..."

"Hold on, I'll get them," Jim said, reaching into the duct. He pulled off her shoes carefully, and placed them on the counter against the wall. His joined hers within a few moments, and then he dragged over some boxes to stand on.

"Can you get in here yourself?" Pam asked.

"I don't know yet. Hold on," Jim said, as he assessed the circumstances. After a long pause, he said, "Yeah, I think I can. Can you move forward a little?"

Pam slid forward into the dusty vent. She already felt the grime in her nose, felt a sneeze coming on. She craned her neck and watched as Jim struggled to get into the duct without hitting his head, trying not to make too much noise. When he was finally all the way in, it was very dark. the only light was coming from behind Jim where they'd entered.

"Ready to go?" he breathed?

She nodded, but didn't move.

"Hey, you're fine," he reassured her softly, and reached out to rub a hand down her back. She nodded once more, and slowly began to move. Pam's heart jumped in nervousness when she realized she was leading them in the darkness.

It was quickly learned that Jim's and Pam's movements through the air ducts would be slow-going. In order to make as little noise as possible on the metal surface, they had to slowly creep along like an animal stalking its prey. The calculation involved in each movement of her legs and hands made Pam feel antsy, and her muscles ached from the crouching position she assumed in the narrow duct.

They'd only been in the ceiling for about ten minutes, but to Pam, it felt like five times longer. She wanted to rest. Her mind began to wander to the most random things, like whether her computer monitor had gone to the screen saver yet, and if Jim's eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to be able to see up her skirt from his angle behind her. ...and she wasn't even wearing her cutest underwear today. 

Her hands were dusty, and her knees were sore, her muscles tired, and she started to wonder if they should just stop now where they were and wait for it all to be over.

"You okay, Bees?" Jim breathed so quietly she wasn't sure if he'd really said anything. And then his hand was resting on her calf, and she stopped and turned her head slowly. "I'm kind of... kind of scared," she whispered just as quietly. "And everything hurts."

He moved closer and reached out to her. He found her face in the dark, though a bit clumsily, and slid his palm along her jawline. His fingers rested at the base of her skull, fingering the soft hair there. This intimate touch was so unexpected, her heart began to race, and she let her skin revel in the warmth of his touch for a moment, the comfort he provided. "We'll be fine," he whispered. "Just keep doing what you're doing." She nodded against his hand, and then it was gone. She paused for a moment to collect herself, and then turned slowly and led them closer to the way out.

---

About fifteen feet further down the duct, Pam began to hear voices from the office below. Mostly, she just heard Michael begging for his life.  "Please, ppuuuhhleeeese let me go! I'll give you anything! If you let me out of here, I could probably get you a date with my ex-girlfriend, Jan! She's really hot..."

Pam felt Jim tap the back of her leg at the ridiculousness of it all.

Michael was still rambling on, until they heard an unfamiliar voice yell, "Shut up! Shut! Up! Just tell us where the--" and then it was quiet. Too quiet. Pam's heart began to beat faster, and she and Jim froze.

"Heh, I think we've got company," another unfamiliar voice stated, and then the sound of gunshots erupted below. Instinctively, Pam tried to curl up into a ball while bullets flew by her all around. She heard them ricocheting off of their surroundings, and didn't even realize she was screaming until she came back to herself at the touch of Jim's hand on her ankle. He squeezed hard while the bullets kept on flying by, and she was grateful for it, because she knew he was still there, that he was still alive in the air duct with her.

Then, silence fell over them like a heavy blanket. Pam's heart was pounding in her ears, her breathing fast. Jim's grip loosened up and his thumb swept back and forth over her ankle. And Pam almost began to cry, her tears choking up her throat, blurring her vision. She couldn't let out any sound or else they'd be shot at again. It took every ounce of strength in her to compose herself.

When Pam got it together, she peered out of the vent just ahead of her. Jim tried to quietly squeeze in beside her. Below them, everyone was tied to their chairs in the front part of the office. Michael was still trying to jump around in his, yelling about being a hero, and how the two masked men better watch out for Agent Michael Scarn. One of the men still stood with his semi-automatic aimed at the ceiling about five feet behind Jim and Pam. When they looked back, they saw shafts of light coming in through bullet holes in the metal. 

Looking down through the vent again, they watched Michael become quiet as the other man turned at him menacingly. He didn't move; just sat there wide-eyed as the man roughly put tape over Michael's mouth. Pam took the opportunity to observe all of their officemates. They were all piled in the middle of the room. Some were tied to the chairs they were sitting in, and others were sitting on the floor tied to the desks. Angela was sending desperate gazes toward Dwight.

As Pam continued to watch, she noticed some of the desks were already emptied out, and one of the men was going back to dumping the drawers from the remaining desks on the floor one by one.

"Question. Why are you here?"

The man with the gun pointed at the ceiling finally turned away, assuming he'd killed whoever was in the duct, and aimed towards Dwight. "I thought I told you all to shut up unless you knew where we could find what we were looking for."

There was a loud noice, and another man had burst through the door with a tied up Bob Vance. Pam glanced at Jim, and then turned back to the scene below.

"Here he is." The man threw Bob towards the rest of the group, and the man who had taped Michael's mouth shut threatened Bob with a knife.

"I'll kill you, and everyone in this room if you don't tell me where the stuff is."

"I told you- I checked in the place where I hid it, but it's not there."

Pam suddenly recalled something from at least a year ago. She remembered Roy coming home one day and telling her that Darryl witnessed Bob acting suspiciously in the warehouse one day. So rather then call him out on it, Darryl hid behind some racks and watched Bob hide something. He was too far away to really see what it was, but it wasn't very big. He'd told Roy that he would wait at least a week before trying to find it to see what it was.

While the intruders were all otherwise occupied, Pam quickly motioned for Jim to follow her, knowing that Bob probably was telling the truth- Darryl had probably found whatever it was that Bob had hidden a long time ago, and these guys would just keep getting more angry as the item was never found.

TBC...