Every time Pam’s been lucky enough to see a soul-bond realization, either in person or on a film or a TV show, it’s been some huge, dramatic event. She still remembers the way everyone in the school cafeteria had lost their minds when Maria Somerville had bonded with Benjamin Porter after he’d asked her to junior prom; they’d started making out on one of the tables and been given detention for a month. In comparison to Ben’s promposal, Dwight’s realization had been pretty reserved: Angela had slapped a form down in front of Jim and told him flatly that if he didn’t fill it out and return it to her by the end of the day, she would be reporting him to Michael.

Jim had been on the phone to a customer, so he couldn’t do anything more than mumble something noncommittal in response, but Pam’s attention had been caught by the way Dwight had fumbled his pencil and stood up from his chair.

“Angela Martin,” he had said stiffly. “Though I am typically extremely irritated by Jim Halpert, the aggravation I am experiencing at the present moment is unusually intense and vehement. This, along with the fact that I find you sexually desirable and somewhat pleasant to associate with, leads me to believe that you are my soulmate. Can you confirm or deny my theory?”

There had been a couple of moments of silence, broken only by the sound of Jim’s phone falling to the floor and the tinny voice on the other end going hello? hello? a couple of times before the dial tone set in. All eyes had been on Angela, but she had just stood there, as cool and composed as she always was. The only hint that she hadn’t turned into an especially judgmental ice statue had been the slight hint of pink at the tips of her ears.

She might actually have given Dwight an answer, except that Kelly had squealed “Oh, my God!” at the top of her lungs, and all hell had broken loose. Michael had come sprinting out of his office with an airhorn shouting about soulmates, Phyllis had started crying, and even Stanley had deigned to look up in the general direction of Jim and Dwight’s desk hub for two seconds before shaking his head and going back to his crossword. He doesn’t show that kind of enthusiasm every day.

In the midst of all the chaos, Angela had tilted her chin up, fixed Dwight with a piercing stare, and then walked past him towards the annex. Dwight had nodded, locked his computer, shot Jim a dirty look, and followed after her. And that had been that.

Their meeting with HR’s been going on for nearly an hour now, and Pam’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Anything that gets one of Dwight or Angela out of the office for any length of time is a good thing, and she’d probably go so far as to say that something that gets them both out of the way for fifty-two minutes and counting is a great thing, but she can’t help but worry for Toby’s safety. Kelly had been asked to leave the annex on confidentiality grounds, but the bullpen had been saved from her… excitable reaction to new developments when the camera crew had called her into the conference room to do an interview. She’s been in there for a while now, and Ryan’s been sneaking glances at the back of her head through the blinds for the last fifteen minutes with an increasingly nervous expression on his face. Pam suspects he’s concerned for what this new office romance will do for Kelly’s expectations and aspirations for her own love life.

“What do you think they’re doing in there?”

She turns to Jim, who’s chewing a jellybean and eyeing the door through to the annex with a speculative expression.

“If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say paperwork,” she replies. “What’re you thinking?”

Jim lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head. “I’m actually trying really hard not to think about what they might be doing in there.”

“Then why did you ask me?”

“Because I’m a masochist at heart,” he replies without missing a beat. “Why do you think I’m still working here?”

Pam huffs a laugh, but then she takes a moment to remember that she works as a receptionist at a mid-range paper supply company, and stifles a shiver.

Soulmates – even if they’re Dwight and Angela – are much more fun to talk about than her job. “But they’re not going to do anything crazy in there with the cameras rolling, right?”

“If anything, that might encourage them,” Jim muses. “But I think Toby’s presence is enough to put a dampener on their, uh…”

He trails off with a slightly queasy look on his face, so Pam naturally takes great delight in making him squirm.

“Lustful urges?” She supplies dryly, and he winces. It’s kind of hilarious.

“You sound like Angela,” he complains aggrievedly. “And the idea of Angela or Dwight having lustful urges is just wrong on so many levels.”

“If you think that’s bad, imagine Angela and Dwight having lustful urges.” She pauses for effect. “Together.”

There’s a half-horrified, half-amused look in his eyes as she waggles her eyebrows, or at least tries to. She’s probably not as good at it as Jim is, but it makes him grin and shake his head all the same.

“Beesley, what made you think I would ever want to imagine that?” He laughs.

“I don’t know, but if I’ve got to have that thought in my head, so do you.”

“Ugh.” He shudders dramatically, and pops another jellybean in his mouth. This one’s blue. “Kill me now.”

“Are you sure?” She asks with mock-seriousness.  “Because I’m pretty sure Dwight would be happy to do it if you asked him. It looked like he was about to, right before he and Angela went all… soulmate-y.”

“I know, right?” He shakes his head and rubs at his temple in disbelief, like he does when he’s got a headache coming on. “I can’t believe Dwight realized that Angela’s his soulmate because she was threatening to submit a complaint about me to Michael.”

Instinctively, Pam glances towards Michael’s office. After the immediate heady rush of witnessing a bonding wore off, the realization that there’s going to be a new couple flaunting their happiness in the Dunder-Mifflin office hit Michael pretty hard. He’s sitting behind his desk with a carton of ice cream as big as his head and a sad look on his face, playing Coldplay’s ‘The Scientist’ loudly enough to rattle the glass in his office windows. He’s not receptive, so just like everyone else who can’t feel their soulmate’s emotions, he’s got no idea whether there’s anyone out there for him. If there is a special someone waiting for Michael, Pam just hopes that they’ve taken their bond-suppressant pills today, because otherwise they’re going to be feeling really, really lonely and depressed right now for no apparent reason.

It’s really sad and actually kind of awful when you think about it for too long, so Pam turns her attention back to Jim and tries not to dwell on it.

“You know, this could be the start of your new career as a professional matchmaker,” she says, trying to inject a bit of light-heartedness back into things. “You could be like Will Smith in Hitch.”

To her delight, he plays along, nodding seriously as if this is the best idea he’s heard today – and to be fair, it might well be. This is Dunder-Mifflin, after all.

“That’s not a bad idea,” he says. “Maybe I should get business cards. ‘Jim Halpert, bringing soulmates together since ‘05.’”

“Jim Halpert,” she begins grandly, before realizing that she doesn’t actually know where she’s going with this. “Uh… you’ll start off with a complaint about me, but you won’t have any complaints about who you end up with?”

“Seems kind of wordy for a business card,” he comments. “Good luck fitting all that in.”

She sees an opportunity to atone for her less-than-impressive one-liner, and seizes on it. “That’s what she –”

“Do not.”

She cackles triumphantly, and although he’s trying to scowl at her, she can see the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. She bribes him by nudging the jar of jellybeans towards him in wordless apology; he takes a green one and grins at her in easy forgiveness.

“Okay, then, how about this?” She clears her throat and swallows before spreads her hands like she’s putting the words up in lights. “Jim Halpert: The man who did the impossible.”

“Which is?”

She waits a beat. “Found Dwight Schrute a soulmate.”

“They said it couldn’t be done,” he begins appreciatively, before pausing. “No, wait – they said it shouldn’t be done.”

He suddenly drops his head into his hands and lets out a low groan. “Oh, my God, Pam, what have I done?”

She giggles at the way he fists his hands in his hair in mock-despair. “Oh, Jim, didn’t you know? You’ve made Dwight the happiest man on earth!”

“God, Beesley, don’t even joke about that.”

“Okay, okay,” she smirks at the anguish in his muffled voice. “Hey, maybe he’ll ask you to be his best man at the wedding?”

Jim lifts his head and tries to give her an offended look, but it’s somewhat undermined by the way he’s trying not to chuckle. His hair’s all mussed from how he’s been gripping it. “Are you kidding? I’m not settling for anything less than godfather to their firstborn.”

“Godfather, huh?” She purses her lips and nods seriously. “Are you sure you want to be the one teaching Dwight Junior how to act like a real boy?”

“I know you’re joking, but the sheer ridiculousness of this alternate reality where I’m teaching Dwight and Angela’s kid how to run hitch and slant routes is literally the only thing stopping me from freaking out right now.”

Pam can’t help but giggle. “You know, it’s really not that big a deal.”

“Not that big a deal?” Jim demands, pinning her with a wide-eyed stare. “It’s a huge deal! How are you not freaking out right now?”

If she’s being honest with herself, Pam had been freaking out when Dwight had basically straight-up confronted Angela about being her soulmate. But now that the moment’s passed, and most of the office has gone back to work, it’s easier to get a little perspective on the matter.

“All they’re doing right now is filling out a couple of forms,” she points out. “I’d be pretty lousy at my job if I freaked out at the thought of paperwork.”

“I don’t care about the paperwork,” Jim waves his hand impatiently. “How are you not freaking out over the fact that Dwight has a soulmate?”

“To be honest, I think I’m more shocked that Angela has a soulmate,” she deadpans, before the phone rings and she has to shoo him away. “Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam.”

It’s Bob Vance, from Vance Refrigeration. Apparently Phyllis isn’t picking up her phone, so Pam patches the call through as Jim saunters back to his desk and slumps into his chair with a faintly-incredulous look on his face. Phyllis picks up the phone, and after a couple of moments, opens her desk drawer and starts rummaging around until she emerges clutching a phone charger. She’s chatting away into her work phone with a triumphant smile, and laughs at something Bob’s saying. They’re really sweet together.

Pam forwards a couple of enquiries on to Stanley and Oscar, reads Phyllis’ vague query about something to do with recycled paper and composes a suitably vague reply, and kills a bit of time with another game of FreeCell. Kelly comes out of the conference room and immediately drags Ryan out of the office, and Michael moves on to R.E.M’s ‘Everybody Hurts’, and then Queen’s ‘Somebody to Love’. Kelly returns looking and sounding buoyantly happy; Ryan returns a couple of minutes later looking like he’s been diagnosed with a terminal disease. Dwight and Angela still haven’t emerged by the time Darryl comes for his meeting with Michael at one o’clock, but Pam’s humming along to the Pet Shop Boys’ ‘Always on My Mind’, as she plays Minesweeper, and she’s hoping that the shift in mood towards eighties synth-pop indicates an improvement in Michael’s mood.

Darryl opens the door to Michael’s office without waiting for an invitation, and the music shuts off abruptly, but Pam is distracted from the inevitable petty argument by a sturdy knock on the corner of the reception counter.

“Hey, babe,” Roy greets her with a broad grin. “How’s it going?”

“Hey!” She smiles back at him, happy that she’ll be able to catch him up to speed. “You missed a crazy morning.”

“Uh-huh?” Roy gives the office a dubious once-over, but when he can’t see any dark lenses staring back at him, he relaxes. “No kidding.”

Ordinarily, Pam thinks he could be forgiven his skepticism – after all, this is Dunder-Mifflin. But today is a crazy day! Pam doesn’t think she’s witnessed more than five soul bonds in her whole life.

“Really,” she assures him. “Angela and Dwight are soulmates!”

Roy, however, doesn’t seem too enthused, as he glances over at Dwight’s still-vacant desk with a doubtful look. “For real? The weirdo and the blonde with the stick up her ass?”

“Dwight and Angela,” she emphasizes their names again. “They’ve both been here since before I joined, but I guess it took them a while to figure things out.”

“No shit,” Roy snorts. “If I was a chick, and I had to fall for that dickwad before I figured out we were soulmates, I’d probably want to put it off for as long as possible, too.”

Pam feels a flare of annoyance – partly at his assumption that it’s always the guy that has to be the receptive soulmate, but mostly at the way he’s talking about Dwight on what’s probably one of the happiest days of his life. She can see Jim wince slightly at his desk as well, which just goes to show what a jerkish thing it is for Roy to say. If Jim thinks you’re being unfair on Dwight, you’ve definitely gone too far.

“Actually, Dwight’s the one who had to figure it out,” she answers. “It was kind of sweet, actually – he realized they shared a bond because she’s the only person who could possibly hate Jim as much as he does.”

Jim doesn’t halt his typing or look away from his screen, but she can tell he’s heard her by the way he rolls her eyes.

Meanwhile, Roy looks unconvinced. “What, they’ve been working together ever since you joined – what, two years ago?”

“Nearly three,” Pam informs him, but it only makes Roy scoff and shake his head.

“Kind of creepy that she knew he was her soulmate the whole time, and she never said anything about it,” he mutters, wrinkling his nose and casting another look at Dwight’s desk.

“It’s not creepy,” she disagrees. “It’s romantic – and besides, you can’t tell someone they’re your soulmate, it’s against the rules –”

“No, Pammy,” he replies dismissively. “It’s fucking creepy. Think about it, okay? How would you like it if someone could feel everything you’re feeling for however long those two have been working together?”

Suddenly, Jim gets up from his chair, and they both look towards him. He flushes and jerks his thumb towards the break room.

“I’m gonna get some grape soda,” he says. “You guys want anything?”

“We’re cool,” Roy says with a shrug before turning back to Pam. “You wanna go to Taco Bell? I was kind of in the mood for tacos.”

Pam’s got lunch in the refrigerator in the kitchen, but she knows they’ve got a lot of orders to load up in the warehouse today, and Roy could really use a break. “Taco Bell sounds great.”

“Cool,” Roy nods. “I’ll meet you down there, okay?”

“Okay,” she answers happily, and begins setting her things away so she can head off on her lunch break. By the time she’s gathered up her purse and grabbed her coat from the stand, Jim’s coming back from the kitchen with a purple soda can.

“So Roy and I are heading out now,” she tells him, albeit unnecessarily. “If they come out whilst I’m on my lunch break, let me know what Dwight says?”

Jim gives her the same noncommittal grunt he gave Angela earlier as he settles into his seat and drags his satchel into his lap. “Will do.”

He rummages around for a moment before pulling out a small orange bottle, and Pam frowns as he taps out two small tablets into his large palm. “Suppressants?”

“You know it,” he replies, before pulling the can’s tab with a sharp crack, cramming the tablets into his mouth, and chugging half his grape soda. After he’s swallowed hard and pulled a couple of faces, he clears his throat and puts the prescription bottle back in his bag with a grimace. “God. You’re lucky you’re not receptive, Beesly.”

Jim’s absent-minded words are casual, but it’s that thoughtless quality to them that makes Pam feel a slight twinge of hurt. Although Dunder-Mifflin does require employees to disclose their soulmate status – or lack thereof – it’s on a strictly confidential basis. She and Roy are fairly open about the fact that they’re not soulmates, but just because Pam’s never come out and announced to the whole world that she has an emotional connection with another person, that doesn’t mean she couldn’t be receptive.

Of course, it would be fairly unusual if she was engaged to Roy whilst having an emotional connection to someone else – but that’s not the point. Jim might think nothing of swallowing down his bond-suppressants at his desk in the middle of the working day, but some people might want to be a bit more private than that.

But before she can point this out to him, he winces and starts patting at his heart, before breaking into a series of strangled gulps and coughs. It goes on for long enough that Pam begins to wonder whether she ought to be at least a little bit concerned.

“You okay there?” She asks, glancing uncertainly towards the annex. If Jim’s got a suppressant tablet stuck in his throat, he’s picked a heck of a time for it; their Safety Officer is in a HR meeting along with the only other person who would be enthusiastic enough to perform an effective Heimlich maneuver.

“Fine,” he manages in between wheezing fits. “That just went down the wrong way, is all.”

“Okay,” she nods hesitantly as he leans over and puts his head between his knees. “Um – if I head out to Taco Bell, can you promise me you won’t be dead when I get back?”

With an effort, Jim manages to get a hold of himself. He takes a couple of deep breaths, and then straightens up in his seat.

“I mean, Dwight might come out and make good on that whole killing-me thing we were talking about earlier.” His face is a little red, and his hair’s as messy and untamed as ever. “So no promises.”

Now that it’s clear that Jim isn’t going to require the kiss of life any time soon, Pam allows herself to relax a little. “Tell Dwight that if he kills you, I won’t bring back any celebratory Taco Bell.”

Jim frowns. “Dwight hates Taco Bell. Are you trying to get me killed?”

“Then tell him if he kills you, I’ll make him eat Taco Bell.” She flaps her hand dismissively. “You’re a salesman, aren’t you? Figure something out.”

“Wow, Beesly.” Jim tries to play offended, but she can tell that he’s amused by the spark in his eyes. He’s not slick. “And here I thought you cared.”

“Only for Taco Bell, Halpert,” she flashes a cheery smile before turning on her heel and heading for the door. “Catch you later!”

He calls something out after her, but she’s already spent enough time dawdling around, and Roy’s probably getting impatient. As she presses the button and waits for the elevator doors to open, she’s not sure whether she wants a burrito or a taco. She’d actually been kind of looking forward to eating her mixed berry yoghurt in the break room, but she’s sure it’ll keep for another day.

COLD OPEN

 

COLD OPEN INT. OPEN PLAN OFFICE

The DM team are hard at work, with generic sounds of rustling paper, quiet telephone conversations, and workers typing away at spreadsheets.

 

MICHAEL: (V.O.)

Sure, some people who work here have soulmates. But those aren’t the only meaningful relationships you can have.

 

INT. OFFICE – WATER COOLER

RYAN is getting himself a cup of water, KELLY chattering away in his ear. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.

 

MICHAEL: (V.O.)

Some of our employees have girlfriends.

 

INT. OFFICE – RECEPTION

PAM is handling documents, her engagement ring clearly visible.

 

MICHAEL: (V.O.)

Fiancés.

 

INT. OFFICE – DESK AREAS

CREED is working at his desk. He looks at the camera with a quizzical expression. There is a very obvious pause to allow MICHAEL the chance to comment. No comment is forthcoming.

 

MICHAEL TALKING HEAD

 

MICHAEL: (CONT’D)

Here at Dunder-Mifflin, we have all sorts of people in all sorts of situations. I mean, as an example off the top of my head, some of our employees have

(pretends to think)

ex-wives.

(with relish)

Ex-wives that divorced them. Ex-wives that’ve just had enough of their boringness, their blandness, their, you know, blah-ness. And some people who work here are single, and they’re happy being single. Free and easy, no responsibilities. Free to spread their wings and soar, like an eagle. A bald eagle.

(a realization)

An American eagle. You know, you could say that being single is your patriotic duty as an American. And I’m proud to be a single citizen of this great nation.

(he’s on a roll now)

And those guys who, who not only dodge the singleness draft, but then decide to go and weaken the moral fabric of society by disregarding the sacred vows of marriage?

(beat)

They’re literally domestic terrorists.

 

END OF COLD OPEN

 

 

ACT ONE

INT. OFFICE – JIM AND DWIGHT’S DESKS

DWIGHT is staring at his computer screen and typing away with focused intensity. The camera SWINGS over to land on ANGELA, who is making notes on a form in red ink. She circles one particular section in a visibly disapproving manner.

 

JIM: (V.O.)

So yesterday, Dwight realized that Angela is his soulmate.

 

JIM TALKING HEAD

 

JIM:

I know, I know. I couldn’t believe it either. But now that they’re soul-bonded, I mean, well…

 

INT. OFFICE – JIM AND DWIGHT’S DESKS

JIM looks between DWIGHT and ANGELA a few times, then looks at the camera with a meaningful expression. It is hard to imagine two people less-inclined towards romance.

 

JIM: (CONT’D)

How could you miss it?

 

JIM TALKING HEAD

 

JIM:

(amused, still faintly disbelieving)

I mean, they’re just so obvious about it, right?

 

INT. OFFICE – ACCOUNTING AREA

ANGELA is working when PHYLLIS approaches.

 

PHYLLIS:

(apprehensively)

Hi, Angela.

 

ANGELA:

(doing nothing to set her at ease)

Phyllis.

 

PHYLLIS:

(persevering)

Bob and I just wanted to congratulate the two of you.

 

PHYLLIS hands ANGELA a card. Angela looks at the offering with deep disdain and distrust, but takes it anyway. She unseals it with clinical efficiency, and pulls out a card. She reads it silently, and looks up at Phyllis.

 

ANGELA:

(unreadable)

Thank you, Phyllis.

 

ANGELA TALKING HEAD

ANGELA holds up a card to the camera. On the front, there is a picture of an anthropomorphic refrigerator smiling and waving cheerily.

 

ANGELA:

(flatly)

Dear Angela, it’s so cool you found your soulmate. We’re chilled to bits, freeze a jolly good fellow. God bless you both, Phyllis and Bob.

(beat)

This card was brought to you by Vance Refrigeration.

 

ANGELA looks up at the camera again, as unamused as you would expect. Her mouth might twitch. But you probably imagined it.

 

INT. OFFICE – JIM AND DWIGHT’S DESKS

JIM is fiddling with a pen. His attention is split between his computer and DWIGHT, who is intent on his work.

 

JIM: (V.O.)

Seeing Dwight and Angela yesterday was actually my first time seeing a soul-bond up close and personal in real life.

 

JIM TALKING HEAD

 

JIM:

I saw one on a kiss-cam at a Phillies game a couple of years back, but they could have just been faking it so they’d get free hotdogs.

(shrugs)

Instead of free hotdogs, Dwight and Angela got to go for a meeting with HR to discuss how this might affect their working relationship.

(thoughtfully)

Given the choice, I think they’d still pick the meeting.

 

INT. OFFICE – JIM AND DWIGHT’S DESKS

DWIGHT is holding a phone to his ear in a white-knuckled grip. He speaks to a customer for a few moments, gives a stiff nod, and slams the phone down violently. He scribbles something in a notepad before aggressively snatching up the phone again.

 

JIM: (V.O.)

It was a pretty long meeting, took most of the morning – and because of that, Dwight’s been keen to make up for lost time today.

 

JIM TALKING HEAD

 

JIM:

I’ve never seen him work this hard before. And that’s saying something.

 

INT. OFFICE – JIM AND DWIGHT’S DESKS

We see a series of clips of DWIGHT in full sales mode, ignoring JIM as he makes funny faces and waves. There is but one thought in his mind: to convince his client of the merits of changing to recycled paper at a 6% discount. The final clip is a close-up of Dwight. We hear a CLICKING sound –  ZOOM OUT to show Jim determinedly snapping his fingers by Dwight’s ear, to no response.

 

JIM: (V.O.)

He’s so intent on clawing back the work-hours he lost yesterday, he’s been totally ignoring all my attempts at annoying him. They’ve just been bouncing off him.

 

JIM flicks a rubber band at DWIGHT, and it pings off the side of his head. We wait for a reaction, but Dwight gives no indication that he has felt anything, too busy stabbing at the buttons on his phone to place another call. Stakhanov has nothing on this guy.

 

JIM: (V.O.)

Literally.

 

DWIGHT TALKING HEAD

 

DWIGHT:

Whilst it’s true that Dunder-Mifflin offers employees the option to take a week’s paid leave in the event of a soul-bonding, Angela and I came to the decision that we would not be taking the time off.

 

INT. OFFICE – ACCOUNTING AREA

ANGELA looks up from her computer to give someone off-camera a meaningful look. The camera SWINGS across to catch DWIGHT looking back at her. He nods, and turns his attention to his computer.

 

DWIGHT: (V.O.)

Unlike some of the irresponsible, lackadaisical workers in this office, Angela is too much of a professional to ever consider playing ‘hooky’. And I wouldn’t be a man worthy of her love if I suggested it.

 

DWIGHT looks offscreen and nods. The camera SWINGS back around to ANGELA in time to catch her returning to her work without responding. It is apparent from their interaction that she has sent him an email. It is even more apparent that it is strictly work-related.

 

DWIGHT: (V.O.)

You see, there is love, and there is duty. And as long as I work at Dunder Mifflin Paper Company Incorporated, it is my moral and contractual obligation to serve this company to the best of my ability. I haven’t taken a holiday in six years.

 

DWIGHT TALKING HEAD

 

DWIGHT:

Last year, on Christmas Day, I made three sales and convinced one of my existing clients to agree to an exclusive ten-year contract wherein Dunder Mifflin will supply them, on a weekly basis, with the finest-quality recycled paper in Pennsylvania.

(smugly)

They insisted I delete them from my mailing list afterwards, but it’ll take them ten years to delete themselves from that contract.

 

 

ACT TWO

INT. OPEN PLAN OFFICE

PAM and JIM are at RECEPTION watching DWIGHT at work. Dwight glances over to the accounting desk.

 

ANGLE ON:

 

ANGELA is hard at work sifting through forms and documents. Her diligence inspires DWIGHT to return to his work.

 

ANGLE ON:

 

JIM:

(uninspired, and therefore, undiligent)

Happiness is an odd look on Dwight.

 

PAM:

(similarly unmotivated)

Is that what it is?

 

JIM:

I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s a good look on him. It’s just not his usual look.

 

PAM:

What’s his usual look?

 

JIM:

Irritated. Annoyed. Enraged, at times.

 

PAM:

Maybe he saves those special looks for you.

 

JIM:

He’d better.

 

PAM:

You’re not feeling jealous, are you?

 

JIM:

Not really. Should I be feeling jealous right now?

 

PAM:

I don’t know, should you?

 

JIM:

Of Angela? No way. Come on, Pam. You know soulmate’s got nothing on deskmate.

 

PAM:

(seriously)

Oh, yeah, totally.

 

JIM:

Thank you.

 

PAM:

No, deskmate, yeah, that’s – wow. A whole other level, of… companionship, and, uh…

 

JIM:

Intimacy.

 

PAM:

Emotional intimacy.

 

JIM:

Physical, too.

 

PAM:

Oh, wow.

 

JIM:

Got a little game of footsie going on under the table.

 

PAM:

Maybe it’s Angela that should be worried.

 

JIM:

Could be, Pam. Could be.

 

PAM TALKING HEAD

 

PAM:

Do I have a soulmate? Honestly, I don’t know. I mean, if I do, I probably haven’t met them yet. And, sure, it would be nice if there was someone out there who, you know, understood me, and was there for me, and just got me, but… Roy might not be my soulmate, but I think we’ve done okay. We’ve been together for nearly ten years now.

(more soberly)

I mean, not everyone has a soulmate, and there are so many people in the world.

(beat)

And it’s just kind of silly to spend your whole life waiting for something that might not even happen.

 

INT. OPEN PLAN OFFICE

JIM is working at his desk. A phone RINGS. We see him look over as PAM picks up the phone.

 

PAM:

(lackluster)

Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam.

 

JIM: (V.O.)

Pam’s engaged to Roy, one of the guys working down in the warehouse.

 

PAM:

Hold, please.

 

PAM transfers the call and gives only the barest cursory glance in Phyllis’ direction before returning to her half-hearted doodling. JIM continues to watch her with concern.

 

JIM: (V.O.)

They’ve been engaged for a while now.

 

JIM TALKING HEAD

 

JIM:

Seeing Dwight and Angela, knowing that they’re probably going to get married soon… without the three-year wait – I mean, that’s got to be tough on her.

(beat)

Or it might not be. It’s just a feeling I’ve got.

(beat)

I could be wrong.

 

JIM shifts in his seat.

 

INT. ANNEX

 

TOBY TALKING HEAD

 

TOBY:

Although we do keep records of employees with soul-bonds, they’re treated in much the same way as you’d expect medical conditions to be treated; it’s completely confidential. I could tell you that four – well, five, now – five people in the office have soul-bonds with their soulmate, but I couldn’t tell you from their files who their soulmates are. Some people, I couldn’t even tell you from their interactions in the workplace. In other cases… you can make a pretty good guess. But, obviously, it's illegal for a person to announce who their soulmate is before a mutual soul-bond is made.

 

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM

 

OSCAR TALKING HEAD

 

OSCAR:

Do I have a soulmate? No, actually, we’re just good friends.

 

INT. KITCHEN

RYAN is making a cup of tea. His overall demeanour is quite relaxed. Here, he is away from the madness.

 

RYAN:

Do I have a soulmate?

(taps his mug reticently)

Well, that’s kind of a personal question, don’t you think? Why?

(looks up; a horrifying thought strikes him)

What have other people been saying?

 

INT. OFFICE – PHYLLIS AND STANLEY’S DESKS

 

PHYLLIS:

(a shy smile: a woman in love)

Bob and I met in the frozen section at the local supermarket. I was looking for the frozen vegetables, he was looking for the manager to let them know that they were using substandard refrigeration units. I know,

(laughs self-consciously)

it’s so cliché.

 

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM

 

JIM TALKING HEAD

 

JIM:

As a matter of fact, I do have a special someone in my life. They’re actually from Prague, I got to know them playing in an online chess tournament… I have a checkmate.

 

He smiles for the camera. He thinks he’s so funny.

 

INT. KITCHEN

 

ANGELA is wiping down the counter. She looks up when DWIGHT enters the room. They pause in mutual acknowledgement before Dwight continues on to the fridge.

 

DWIGHT:

(carefully measured)

Miss. Martin.

 

He withdraws a Tupperware container.

 

ANGELA:

(in similar fashion)

Mr. Schrute.

 

This is apparently sufficient for DWIGHT, who turns and heads for the door. He pauses just as he is about to leave the room, as cool as a refrigerated beet.

 

DWIGHT:

I took the liberty of renting The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe from Blockbuster last night.

 

ANGELA:

(aloof, disinterested)

Is that so?

 

DWIGHT:

Perhaps you would like to watch it with me sometime this week. We can discuss how Lewis’ use of symbolism and allegory differ from that of Tolkien’s.

 

ANGELA:

(dismissively)

One might as well compare apples to beets.

 

DWIGHT:

I would agree, but I fear we are at cross-purposes.

 

ANGELA:

(with disapproval and curling lip)

Really, Dwight? Puns?

 

DWIGHT:

Purely coincidental, Monkey, I assure you. Such a linguistic quirk would be unthinkable in Sindarin.

 

There is a slight pause until ANGELA clearly arrives at some sort of decision.

 

ANGELA:

We shall watch the movie at my house immediately after work tomorrow. You may stay for a vegetarian dinner and a discussion of how the threefold office is depicted in Narnia and Lord of the Rings over decaffeinated coffee.

 

DWIGHT:

Perhaps I could bring some sugared beets for dessert.

 

ANGELA does not reply, but her face indicates some sort of approval. It is enough that DWIGHT may leave without a further word. Once her soulmate has left, Angela continues to wipe down the counter. It is as if nothing has happened.

 

 

ACT THREE

 

MICHAEL TALKING HEAD

 

MICHAEL:

Dwight soul-bonded with Angela yesterday, and his sales numbers today? Through the roof.

(nods admiringly)

I haven’t seen anything like it since Jim spiked his coffee with Red Bull back in ‘03. Reminded me of Dunder Mifflin in the mid-80s.

(laughs)

Man.

(shaking his head)

Ah, you really had to be there.

 

INT. OPEN PLAN OFFICE

DWIGHT continues to leaf through binders, type at his keyboard, and make notes like a man possessed. At RECEPTION, JIM and PAM exchange a look that’s part-impressed, part-concerned.

 

MICHAEL: (V.O.)

You know, seeing Dwight in love…

(thoughtfully)

it really makes you wonder how productive this office would be if everyone was happily in love with their soulmate.

 

MICHAEL TALKING HEAD

 

MICHAEL: (CONT’D)

All I’m saying is, if our HR department really cared about workplace productivity, and people’s happiness, then they would have made the identities of our soulmates a matter of public record. But it’s obvious that our HR guy doesn’t care about the people in this office the way that I do. And on the one hand, it’s understandable. You know, your marriage broke down, and you got divorced, and you had to sleep in your car, and nobody loves you, you’re probably going through a rough time. But when those life experiences make you bitter, and make you hateful, and make you think nobody else deserves a shot at happiness? You know, this is, this is not right. It’s, it’s emotional blackmail, is what it is. It’s holding information hostage. And we do not negotiate with terrorists.

 

CAMERA – CLOSE UP of TOBY against a nondescript background

 

TOBY:

(long-suffering, yet still patient)

Michael, you can’t just demand that we release employees’ medical records.

 

ZOOM OUT to show that TOBY is in MICHAEL’S OFFICE. Neither he nor MICHAEL seem best pleased with this state of affairs.

 

MICHAEL:

Why not?

 

TOBY:

(now only long-suffering)

Because they’re confidential. And it’s a major invasion of people’s privacy.

 

MICHAEL:

Toby, did you see the footage, a couple of years ago, of American soldiers marching through Baghdad? People were cheering on the streets. You know why? Because they understood that a minor invasion was a small price to pay for a better tomorrow.

 

TOBY:

(Costa Rica es bonita en esta época del año)

I’m not sure the two situations are comparable.

 

MICHAEL:

(belligerent)

And I’m not sure why you’re so intent on denying Kevin what could be his one chance at happiness.

 

TOBY:

(Dios ayúdame)

We’re not denying our employees anything, Michael.

 

MICHAEL:

Except the names of their soulmates. You’re just sitting on that information, like a sitter. A squatter. A homeless squatter. What, you got tired of sleeping in your car?

 

ZOOM IN on TOBY’s face. We can actually see him considering violent retribution.

 

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM

 

TOBY TALKING HEAD

 

TOBY:

So, yeah, it’ll be nice. I’ll go surfing, maybe try zip-wiring. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while, and it feels like it’s finally time. I know that’s not what you asked me, but… I mean, I’m not going to answer that question on camera.

 

INT. KITCHEN

 

KELLY TALKING HEAD

 

KELLY:

Honestly, I had no idea Dwight and Angela were soulmates. Like, when you think of soulmates, you think of Ross and Rachel, or Ryan and Marissa, or J.D. and Elliot, you know? That’s what real soulmates look like. I mean, I used to think that Brad and Jennifer were soulmates, but now it’s, like, super obvious with hindsight that Angelina Jolie’s, like, a way better match for him.

(nods wisely)

But now that I think about it, it’s, like, so obvious that they’re right for each other.

(beat)

I’m talking about Dwight and Angela, by the way, not Brad and Angelina. Brad Pitt’s way hotter than Dwight.

(conspiratorially) You know, the first soulmates I really, really wanted to be soulmates? Joey and Pacey.

(nods)

I know! Like, all my friends thought Joey should end up with Dawson, but I was all, ‘Ew, no way, Pacey’s way cuter’. I had a poster of Pacey up on my wall right next to Leo –

(a thought strikes her)

oh, my God, Dwight’s literally like Leo in Titanic, he’d totally save Angela if they were on a ship and it sunk. I cried so much when Jack died, there was definitely room for him on that door. But Dwight’s, like, a giant, so there wouldn’t be room if it was him and Angela, so he’d probably have to die to save his soulmate. But that’s what you do when you’re in love.

(sighs happily)

If Ryan and I were on the Titanic, I’d totally let Ryan stay on the –

 

INT. BREAK ROOM

 

OSCAR TALKING HEAD

 

OSCAR:

Angela and Dwight have a lot of things in common. They’re both extremely organized and punctual, and they hold themselves to high standards of professional excellence.

(beat)

I think they deserve each other.

 

PHYLLIS TALKING HEAD

 

PHYLLIS:

(A rare, human reaction: sympathy.)

I can’t imagine what that must have been like for Angela. Having to come into work everyday, sitting across from your soulmate for eight hours a day or more, knowing that the person you love is right there, but you can’t say or do anything about it?

(shakes her head)

Poor dear.

(clucks maternally)

That must have really hard for her.

 

INT. OPEN OFFICE

PHYLLIS exits the CONFERENCE ROOM, clearly wrapping up her interview. She makes her way to JIM and gives him a soft pat on the shoulder.

 

ANGLE ON:

 

JIM looks confused as PHYLLIS returns to her desk. He has little time to dwell on it, as MICHAEL pops his head out of his OFFICE.

 

MICHAEL:

Jim! Jimmy Halpert. Darth Jimious. Emperor Halpertine.

 

JIM:

(absently)

Oh, hey, that one’s new.

 

MICHAEL:

Come on in, shut the door, pull up a chair.

 

JIM does all three, shutting the door to MICHAEL’S OFFICE on the camera with an apologetic expression. Camera TRACKS around to the HALLWAY to continue filming; both are visible in the office. SOUND is picked up from PERSONAL MICS.

 

INT. OFFICE – HALLWAY – handheld cam, trained on MICHAEL’S OFFICE

 

JIM:

So, what’s going on?

 

MICHAEL:

Jim, what I’m about to discuss with you does not leave this office.

 

JIM:

(glances towards camera)

Okay.

 

MICHAEL:

Now, I know that you like to do your little pranks and tricks. And most of the time, they’re good for office morale. Not as funny as some people, you’ve still got a lot to learn from the master, but, for the most part, they give the mood a bit of a boost. And that’s why I’ve been turning a blind eye to your little stunts. Like that time you stuck my mug in jello.

 

JIM:

Wow, Michael, I – I hadn’t even realized you knew that was me. I guess I wasn’t as subtle as I thought I was.

 

MICHAEL:

Well, that’s me, Jim. Eyes like a hawk. Tony Hawk. Because it’s not just 360-degree vision, it’s 900-degree vision.

 

JIM:

Yeah, no kidding.

 

MICHAEL:

That’s how I knew it was you. And, you know, I like to think that I’ve been pretty lenient on you so far. But now, I’m calling in that favor.

 

JIM:

You’re calling in that favor.

 

MICHAEL:

I need you to create a distraction that gets Toby away from his desk for long enough that I can sneak in there and steal the soulmate files.

 

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM

 

JIM TALKING HEAD

 

JIM:

When I was eight years old, I used to think that the President had this, like, manila folder from the Pentagon with all the nuclear launch codes inside.

(beat)

Michael celebrated his fortieth birthday last year.

 

INT. OFFICE – HALLWAY – handheld cam, trained on MICHAEL’S OFFICE

 

JIM:

You want me to help you… I’m sorry, Michael, this just sounds an awful lot like you want me to act as an accessory to theft.

 

MICHAEL:

No, Jim, that’s not it at all. I just want you to…

 

JIM:

To…

 

MICHAEL:

Repay me for all the times I looked the other way.

 

JIM:

Well, now it’s beginning to sound an awful lot like blackmail.

 

MICHAEL:

I’m sorry, did I at any point in this conversation use the phrase, drinkin’ flicka?

 

JIM:

(begins to rise out of his chair)

Alright, Michael. Alright. I’ll do it. Just give me a couple of days to think of something.

 

MICHAEL:

A couple of days? Jim, I don’t think you understand what’s at stake here.

 

JIM:

(thinking quickly)

No, no, Michael, I do. Totally. Think about it. If you and I know how important those files are, Toby does too.

 

MICHAEL:

Well, obviously. That’s why he doesn’t want us to get our hands on them.

 

JIM:

Yeah. So if we want him to willingly leave them unattended, it’s going to have to be a super-convincing distraction, right? Gonna take a lot of planning.

 

MICHAEL:

(dawning realization)

Oh.

 

JIM:

Yeah.

 

MICHAEL:

I never thought about that! See, Jim, I knew I could count on you!

 

Camera TRACKS around to RECEPTION, as JIM leaves MICHAEL’S OFFICE. He and MICHAEL are laughing in some sort of camaraderie. Camera PANS to RECEPTION, where PAM looks bemused.

 

JIM TALKING HEAD

 

JIM:

Someone once told me that the key to handling Michael is to just humor him for a couple of days until he forgets about it. Again, much like an eight-year-old.

(beat, thoughtfully:)

Or a goldfish.

 

 

ACT FOUR

 

MICHAEL TALKING HEAD

 

MICHAEL:

You know, here’s a little-known fact about soulmates. Now, I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but in Argentina, there’s this hot drink called mate, except they pronounce it ‘mah-tay’. And in Argentina, when you soul-bond with someone, it’s traditional to drink to your newfound happiness with a cup of ‘mah-tay’. And that’s why one of the most popular ways of asking someone out on a date is asking them whether they want to grab a cup of coffee, because it’s the American way of saying…

(leans forward)

‘Hey, there. Could you be my soulmah-tay?’

 

He sits back in his chair and gives an impressive nod.

 

INT. OFFICE – RECEPTION

PAM is sitting at her desk, JIM leaning on the counter.

 

PAM:

Got any big plans for tonight?

 

JIM:

Not really. I’m going out for drinks with Mark and his girlfriend. Katy’s coming, too, so that should be cool.

 

PAM:

Oh, so like a double-date?

 

JIM:

Not really.

 

PAM:

What?

 

JIM:

What?

 

PAM:

Just, you know. Mark and his girlfriend, and you and Katy… that’s pretty much a double-date.

 

JIM:

Me and Katy aren’t a thing.

 

PAM:

What?

 

JIM:

Not anymore.

 

PAM:

(unreadable)

Oh.

 

JIM:

My soul-bond went off on one of our dates.

 

PAM:

(with sympathy)

Oh, Jim.

 

JIM:

Yeah.

 

PAM:

That sucks.

 

JIM:

Yeah.

 

PAM:

God, I’m so sorry.

 

JIM:

It’s cool, though, she was actually super chill about it.

 

PAM:

Really?

 

JIM:

Didn’t even throw a drink in my face.

 

PAM:

Well, that’s good.

 

JIM:

And she’s a romantic, too, so we just ended up talking about how awesome my soulmate is for the rest of the evening.

 

PAM:

(sincerely)

That’s really sweet of you, Halpert.

 

JIM:

I know, I was jumping on a couch, and everything.

 

PAM TALKING HEAD

 

PAM:

Katy and Jim met in the office. And they were dating, which, you know, everyone in the office knows. Not because Jim was shouting about it, or anything, just because, you know. People in the office, everyone knows this stuff.

 

INT. OFFICE – RECEPTION

Conversation continues

 

JIM:

We’ll probably just hang out, have some fun, maybe get banned from Chili’s like the cool kids do.

(PAM laughs)

What about you?

 

PAM:

Me?

 

JIM:

Yeah, Beesly. Got any big plans for tonight?

 

PAM:

Um, well, Roy’s probably going to have a couple of friends over to watch the game, so I’ll probably just get round to cleaning the kitchen.

 

JIM:

Wow. Sounds intense.

 

PAM:

I know, I can feel the adrenaline rush just talking about it.

 

PAM TALKING HEAD

 

PAM:

It’s not like I’ve got anything against Katy, you know? I mean, she’s super nice and she’s really sweet, it’s just… Jim deserves the best, you know?

 

INT. OFFICE – OPEN OFFICE

SOUNDLESS shot of RECEPTION as PAM and JIM carry on their conversation. We see Jim leaning against the desk, saying something that makes Pam smile. He steals one jelly bean for the road before making his way back to his desk.

 

PAM: (V.O.)

Jim’s an amazing guy. He’s probably my best friend in the office. He’s funny, he’s smart, he’s talented.

 

JIM grabs his satchel and continues on into the KITCHEN. Through the glass in the door window, we see him set the satchel on the counter and take an orange bottle of tablets out.

 

ANGLE ON:

 

PAM, unaware that she is being filmed, watching on with a troubled expression.

 

PAM: (V.O.)

I just hope his soulmate knows how dumb they were to let such a great guy slip through their fingers.

 

PAM TALKING HEAD

 

PAM:

(a little hesitantly)

Jim’s been taking bond-suppressant tablets since he started here, pretty much the whole time I’ve known him.

 

INT. OFFICE – OPEN OFFICE

 

ANGLE ON:

JIM standing the kitchen, now unscrewing the bottle lid.

 

PAM: (V.O.)

He doesn’t really talk about his soulmate much.

 

PAM TALKING HEAD

 

PAM: (CONT’D)

I don’t know whether it’s someone he met in high school, or someone he met in college, but… I mean, he met this person, and fell in love with them, and for whatever reason, they weren’t in a place where they could fall in love with him.

(worries at her lip)

And I think that really sucks.

 

INT. OFFICE – OPEN OFFICE

 

ANGLE ON:

 

JIM is in the kitchen, tapping out a tablet with bowed head and slumped shoulders. Suddenly, he looks up, making direct eye contact with the camera through the door window. He bears an unmistakeable resemblance to a rabbit in headlights.

 

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM

 

JIM TALKING HEAD

JIM keeps shifting in his seat and glancing towards the door.

 

JIM:

(after a pause)

I mean, it’s not that big a deal.

 

INT. OFFICE – OPEN OFFICE

 

ANGLE ON:

 

JIM in the KITCHEN, leaning against the counter. He is lowering a cupped palm from his mouth, evidently just having popped the tablet in his mouth.

 

JIM: (V.O.)

Falling in love with your soulmate, it’s, you know…

 

He washes the tablet down with a cup of coffee.

 

JIM: (V.O., CONT’D)

It happens to people all the time.

 

JIM TALKING HEAD

 JIM is now sitting slumped in the chair, arms folded across his chest. This is not his usual practised apathy.

 

JIM:

A lot of people fall in love with their soulmates. It’s just that, you know, I’m in love with my soulmate, and she’s not in love with me. But because I’m receptive, I still get to feel what she…

(swallows)

yeah.

(makes a visible effort to avoid making eye contact with the camera or the crew)

 

 

ACT FIVE

INT. MICHAEL’S OFFICE

 

PAM:

You wanted to see me, Michael?

 

MICHAEL:

Ah, Pam. Just the person I was hoping to talk to. Look, I need you to do me a favor.

 

PAM:

Sure.

 

MICHAEL:

I’ve just had a call from corporate, and it sounds like they’re not happy with the way our HR department handled various complaints about sexual harassment.

 

PAM:

I thought you told Toby that whoever made those complaints should be banned from making complaints for six months to teach them a lesson.

 

MICHAEL:

Did Toby tell you that?

 

PAM:

You did.

 

MICHAEL:

Because that’s very unprofessional of him. Anyway, look – I’ve just gotten off the phone with Corporate, and, get this, they’re launching an inquiry into whether or not there’s a culture of sexual harassment here in Scranton. Can you believe that?

 

PAM:

(can believe most allegations against DM Scranton)

Wow. That’s, just, wow.

 

MICHAEL:

I know! Do you know what the motto of Scranton, Pennsylvania is, Pam?

 

PAM:

No?

 

MICHAEL:

‘Embracing our people, our traditions and our future’.

(aggrievedly)

You know what Corporate would do to that motto, if they got a hold of it?

 

PAM:

Change it?

 

MICHAEL:

Exactly, Pam. They’d change it. They’d be all, you can’t embrace people. That’s sexual harassment. You can’t harass traditions like that. Who told you it was okay to take a hold of the future without consent?

 

PAM:

Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?

 

MICHAEL:

No, but I want you to make a note of it, we’ll get back to it another time.

 

PAM:

(oh, goody)

So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?

 

MICHAEL:

Corporate are forming a committee to investigate our office’s patterns of behaviour and workplace relations, and Pam, I’ve got be honest with you, I don’t trust them one little bit. So

(claps hands)

I want you to form a task force to guide the Corporate committee through the process and make sure they don’t misrepresent us.

 

PAM:

A task force? You mean, like, a committee?

 

MICHAEL:

Sure.

 

PAM:

You want a committee to oversee the committee.

 

MICHAEL:

Exactly.

 

PAM:

And help them decide what to say about us.

 

MICHAEL:

Exactamundo.

 

PAM:

It’s just that, that sort of sounds like a conflict of interest.

 

MICHAEL:

Pam, if all these conversations about sexual harassment have taught us anything, it’s that people can say all kinds of things and things can be taken in all sorts of ways, that’s what she said.

 

ZOOM IN on Pam’s carefully blank face.

 

MICHAEL:

I want you and Oscar to monitor the ongoing inquiry, and report back to me with regular updates on their findings before they pass anything back to Head Office.

 

MICHAEL TALKING HEAD

 

MICHAEL:

When it came to heading up the committee, Pam was the obvious choice. She is, after all, a woman, so when she tells those Corporate stiffs that not a single person here in Scranton is treated differently because of their gender, sexuality, or other

(gestures to his own chest, then gestures… downwards)

stuff, that’ll send a really powerful message.

 

INT. MICHAEL’S OFFICE

 

PAM:

So you want me to look over Corporate’s shoulder whilst they’re taking notes on us, and report back to you.

 

MICHAEL:

Yes. And, obviously, if you want to bring anyone else in, feel free. Except Jim, though.

 

PAM:

(the thought had not crossed her mind)

Why not Jim?

 

MICHAEL:

Well, we’ve already got one hot person telling them there’s no sexual harassment going on. Two just seems, I don’t know, like we’re trying to prove something.

(a realization)

So no Ryan, either.

 

PAM:

Okay, well, I’ll just… go talk to Oscar.

 

MICHAEL:

(cheerily)

Great idea, Pam!

 

Exit PAM

MICHAEL: (CONT’D)

(to camera, dismissively)

As if anyone’s going to think Oscar’s getting sexually harassed.

 

INT. OFFICE – JIM AND DWIGHT’S DESKS

Afternoon lull; DWIGHT and JIM at their desks. One is hard at work, the other is hardly working.

 

JIM:

So how come you’re still here?

 

DWIGHT:

Because, Halpert, it’s the middle of the working day.

 

JIM:

But it could have been a non-working day.

 

DWIGHT:

Like yours?

 

JIM:

Ouch.

 

JIM falls silent until DWIGHT has gone back to his work. Only when Dwight is assiduously making notes does he continue.

 

JIM: (CONT’D)

You guys could have taken that soul-bond time off, you know.

 

DWIGHT:

(incapable of ignoring Jim; hates Jim and hates himself for it)

I know what you’re up to, Jim.

 

JIM:

That makes one of us.

 

DWIGHT:

(accusingly)

You’re trying to get me and Angela to take time off. You want us to slack off, just like you.

 

JIM:

You got me.

 

DWIGHT:

Well, it’s not going to work.

 

JIM:

Oh, yeah?

 

DWIGHT:

Oh, yeah.

 

JIM:

Really.

 

DWIGHT:

Really, really. You see, Angela may be the pleasingly-Aryan Rosie to my Samwise Gamgee, but Michael? Michael is my Frodo. And I am sworn to aid him, to carry him if need be, as we wage war against the Dark Lord Sauron’s forces of Nazgûl and orcs. Or Staples and Office Depot.

 

JIM:

Does that make me Aragorn?

 

DWIGHT:

Please. You’re obviously Legolas.

 

JIM:

Legolas is that dwarf from Gondor, right?

 

DWIGHT just glares at him before shaking his head and going back to his work.

 

DWIGHT:

(without looking up from his papers)

Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul.

 

ZOOM IN on JIM as he turns to the CAMERA with a nonplussed face.

 

INT. BREAK ROOM

PAM and OSCAR are sitting at a table, ostensibly in a planning meeting.

 

PAM:

A few months ago, everyone in the office had to undergo a refresher course on the company’s sexual harassment policy. And I guess Corporate just wanted to check up on how everyone’s responded to that.

 

OSCAR:

Every so often, Corporate will hand down a totally harmless edict that will have absolutely no effect on the day-to-day life of the office, and Michael will get unreasonably paranoid about the possibility of interference from Head Office.

 

INT. OFFICE – ACCOUNTING AREAS – FLASHBACK

ANGELA, OSCAR and KEVIN are at work. MICHAEL is hovering.

 

MICHAEL:

So these are definitely this year’s figures?

 

ANGELA:

The first two quarters of this year, yes.

 

MICHAEL:

And you’re sure we’re not missing anything?

 

OSCAR:

We’ve checked and double-checked our findings, Michael. Everything adds up.

 

MICHAEL:

Oh, okay, okay. Cool.

(beat)

What about this, here? Did you get this?

 

ANGELA:

(strained)

Yes, Michael, I did.

 

MICHAEL:

Did you remember to carry the one?

 

Of all people, it is KEVIN that breaks. He blows a long, loud raspberry at MICHAEL. There is a shocked, stunned silence.

 

INT. BREAK ROOM

PAM and OSCAR are still seated.

 

OSCAR:

(delicately)

The fact that Michael doesn’t like being micromanaged…

 

A single look to the camera. Nothing more needs saying.

 

MICHAEL TALKING HEAD

 

MICHAEL:

I wouldn’t say I’m anti-establishment. I don’t think it’s for me to say that about myself.

(leans back in chair; thoughtfully)

But, you know, when you look at the great counter-culturalists of history, the Gandhis, the Ches, the Tom Cruise in Top Guns of this world, you know what they all had in common? They’re mavericks. They’re rebels. They’re unapologetically themselves. And so if you asked me, who is Michael Scott? I’d have to say, I am who I am. And if that offends you… I’m not sorry.

 

INT. BREAK ROOM

 

PAM:

We can’t really interfere with the inquiry anyway, but even if we could, it’s not just a question of ethics, it’s a question of… motivation.

 

OSCAR:

That’s right. And, quite frankly, I have neither the patience nor the time to indulge in any more of Michael’s hairbrained schemes. I have about a hundred paper trails to chase up right now, and I’d say that Michael’s profligacy and company credit card are responsible for about eighty of them.

 

PAM:

So what we’re going to do is just draft a couple of emails now, so we can send them to Michael at the end of the day and give him a sense of reassurance. Here’s one I wrote earlier.

 

She holds up a sheet of paper and begins to read.

 

PAM: (CONT’D)

The professional standards at Dunder-Mifflin Scranton are extremely high. Lessons have evidently been learned in the wake of their last review of company policy. Mr. Scott, the Branch Manager, clearly runs a tight ship.

 

OSCAR:

(amused)

That is shameless.

 

PAM:

I figured he’ll get to that point and not bother to read any further. How about you?

 

OSCAR clears his throat, ready to begin reading off his own sheet.

 

OSCAR:

Our inquiry was able to gain a fairly comprehensive insight into Dunder-Mifflin Scranton’s workplace dynamics…

 

He pauses for effect, and PAM gives the camera an impressed look. Very fancy terminology.

 

OSCAR: (CONT’D)

despite the lack of support from the branch’s extremely unhelpful HR department.

(breaks away from sheet)

I hate to throw Toby under the bus like that, but if that’s what it takes to get Michael off my back, I’ll do it.

 

PAM:

(laughing)

Now that is shameless.

 

INT. KITCHEN

KELLY and RYAN are taking a break from work. Kelly leans against the counter, Ryan stands with a cup of coffee.

 

KELLY:

You know how when you fall in love with your soulmate, you can feel what they’re feeling?

 

RYAN:

(feigning interest)

Mm-hm.

 

As KELLY keeps chattering on, Ryan continues taking sips of his coffee so he doesn’t have to say anything. Not that that’s an issue with Kelly.

 

KELLY:

Like, when they’re looking at you, you can just tell when they’re thinking, ‘Oh my God, they’re so hot, they’re so totally gorgeous’, and you get to feel them thinking how hot you are, and they get to feel you thinking about how hot they are?

 

RYAN:

(absently)

Uh-huh.

 

KELLY:

Ryan?

 

RYAN:

(immediately on his guard)

Yeah?

 

KELLY:

Do you know if there are any receptive soul-partners in your family?

 

RYAN makes a noise meant to indicate pensiveness, and takes another sip of his coffee. ZOOM IN on him, and his eyes are very much avoiding the camera and Kelly both.

 

RYAN TALKING HEAD

 

RYAN:

As a species, we’re more connected, today in the twenty-first century, than at any other point in our history. Myspace, email, the internet, all these different ways to find your soulmate. I mean, there are just so many people out there. I don’t just mean out there,

(gestures to the office)

I mean out there, like, out there.

(beat)

Elsewhere.

 

 

EXIT TAG

 

INT. OFFICE – RECEPTION

The office is empty; PAM is the only person left in the office at the end of the day. She holds up her yoghurt to the camera and gestures with her spoon.

 

PAM:

I didn’t get a chance to eat this earlier, because it’s been a pretty full-on day. There was Michael’s committee, and the interviews, and all that stuff with Jim and Katy, and, yeah, I’m looking forward to going home.

(smiles brightly)

Just one last thing to finish up here, and then we’re good to go.

 

She peels off the lid of her yoghurt, and with a conspiring smile to the camera, digs her spoon in with evident relish. She’s just raising the spoon when, OFFSCREEN –

 

JIM:

Hey, Pam?

 

The camera SWINGS around to show JIM coming out of the KITCHEN. He’s obviously on his way home, scarf around his neck and satchel slung over one shoulder.

 

INT. OFFICE – OPEN OFFICE

JIM makes his way towards RECEPTION.

 

PAM:

Yeah?

 

JIM:

(as he comes to a halt)

This might sound weird, and there's no reason for me to know this, but that mixed-berry yogurt you're about to eat has expired. So, uh, yeah.

(smiles and raps the counter)

Just thought I’d let you know.

 

PAM is silent as JIM takes his coat from the stand and makes his way towards the ENTRANCE.

 

CAMERA cut to INT. OFFICE – RECEPTION.

 

As JIM opens the door to leave, he gives the camera an awkward smile, and an even more awkward wave. What a goofball.

 

EXIT JIM

 

Camera SWINGS back to PAM. She is still holding her spoon in mid-air, the yoghurt in serious danger of spilling onto her cardigan. She eventually turns to the camera with wide eyes.

 

END OF SHOW

Jim likes to think of himself as a fairly creative guy. Whether it’s finding an angle he can use to establish a rapport with a prospective client, or coming up with a new way to mess with Dwight – or, in his more pathetic moments, making up some contrived excuse to chat to Pam for ten or thirty or maybe even forty-five seconds – he’s pretty good at coming up with ideas. But he’s been sitting here in the break room and waiting for inspiration to strike for twenty minutes now, and he’s got nothing.

He stares blankly at the nearly-blank piece of paper in front of him, and the words MICHAEL’S SOULMATE MISSION stare back at him. Those three words are all he’s got to show for the last twenty minutes of his life. The sad part is that this still qualifies as one of his more productive mornings at Dunder-Mifflin.

He’s almost relieved when Dwight marches into the room to interrupt him, because at least then there’s something else to entertain himself with.

“What are you doing in here, Jim?” Herr Schrute demands. “You haven’t clocked out for your break, and you’ve been away from your desk for twenty-seven minutes!”

That long? Wow. This morning’s just flying by.

“Michael assigned me an important task yesterday, and I’m working on my plan of action,” Jim replies, taking a moment to shuffle his papers in a self-important manner. The vagueness will infuriate Dwight, and you’ve gotta learn to take your fun where you can at DM Scranton.

Right on cue, Dwight’s nostrils flare. “Michael assigned you an important task?”

“Yep.” Jim meets his demented stare and delights in giving him a cool nod and a blasé shrug, if only to see his offended expression. “Extremely important.”

Dwight puffs his chest out, and his sternum starts swelling like he’s suffering an extreme allergic reaction. Chance would be a fine thing. “As Assistant Regional Manager –”

“Assistant to the Regional Manager –”

“I should be the one taking care of any important business on Michael’s behalf.”

“Yeah, you probably should,” Jim agrees, feeling absolutely no compunction at the prospect of dumping this off on his deskmate. “You should go tell him that.”

Dwight gives him another suspicious look, but Jim just ignores him and scribbles another few words at the top of the page with a quiet aha! sound. It looks and sounds important enough to make Dwight straighten up, adjust his glasses, and spin around before marching back to the office.

As Dwight leaves, blissful silence returns. But Jim doesn’t get to enjoy the peace and quiet for long before the door’s pushed open again.

“Just so you know, Dwight’s just gone into Michael’s office and announced that he’s taking over whatever responsibility Michael’s entrusted you with,” Pam announces without preamble, walking over to snag the other chair at Jim’s table. “I thought I should probably give you a heads-up, considering that technically covers every element of your job.”

“He’s so welcome to it,” Jim replies, and he’s not even sure if he’s joking or not. He’s tired and bored and the bond-suppression tablets don’t react well with caffeine, so he tends to spend his mornings in a bit of an apathetic fugue until he properly wakes up at around eleven, but he makes a genuine effort to smile at his favorite receptionist and appear responsive and lively and all that good stuff. “Does that mean I can take the rest of the day off?”

“I thought you already were?” Pam quirks her eyebrows at him. “Isn’t that why you’ve been hiding out in here all morning?”

“I wish,” Jim says dully. “Michael’s got me working on a project.”

He feels the overwhelming urge to bang his head against the table just saying the words. Something of his existential torment must show on his face, because Pam just gives him an understanding grimace and a sympathetic nod. “Ah.”

“Yeah.”

"Same here," Pam sighs in commiseration. “I'm guessing Dwight wants to be the one working on the project?”

“Not just Dwight,” Jim says sincerely. “I want Dwight to be the one working on the project.”

“He deserves the opportunity,” Pam agrees with mock-solemnity. “What’s the project?”

Jim sighs deeply and tries not to start weighing up the pros and cons of stabbing himself in the neck with a pen. “Michael wants to steal everyone’s soulmate files from HR.”

Pam's eyes widen slightly. “HR has our soulmates on record?”

“Michael thinks HR has our soulmates on record,” Jim corrects her dully. “And he thinks Toby’s hiding them from us.”

Pam’s mouth does that thing where she’s trying not to laugh but her lips twitch upwards anyway. “That does sound like the kind of thing Michael would accuse Toby of.”

She pulls out another chair at the table, and when she sits down, she shuffles closer to Jim so she can get a better look at his notes. For a moment, his mind goes blank and all he can think about is how she must got some new shampoo for her frizzy hair, because it doesn’t smell like strawberries today. He wants to say it smells more floral, but he knows literally nothing about that sort of thing. Katy had despaired of his inability to tell the difference between vanilla and orchids.

“Is there a reason you’ve written ‘Bellagio Hotel’ at the top of the page?” Pam’s voice interrupts his drifting stream of thought.

“Ocean’s Eleven,” he replies absently.

She makes a noise of recognition. “Roy liked that one.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jim tries very hard to keep his voice even. “That’s cool.”

He makes another mental reminder to check whether that job in Maryland is still available, but he knows he’s not going to take it. People wait all their lives for a soulmate, he’s not dumb enough to let her slip through his fingers.

Except she’s never been his to lose.

Except she kind of is his, that’s kind of the whole point of being soulmates, but there’s no way for Jim to put that like that without feeling really gross and creepy, and he just – he can’t be that guy, he just can’t, because if he lets himself think like a possessive asshole, he’ll start acting like a possessive asshole, and he’ll scare her off, he’ll fuck it up.

Maybe The Shins were right after all. Maybe caring is creepy.

“So Michael’s got you working on a project, too?” He asks, partly because it’s a safer topic and partly because his head’s starting to hurt.

“Uh-huh,” Pam replies with a delightfully comprehensive eye-roll. “You’re not the only one with a top-secret assignment from Special Agent Michael Scarn.”

“Dare I ask? Or is it above my clearance level?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” she deadpans, before sighing and shaking her head. “I’m writing up fake emails with Oscar so we can send them to Michael and pretend they’re from Corporate.”

Jim whistles. “Never thought Oscar had it in him.”

“I think working here’s corrupted him.”

“Maybe it’s you that’s corrupted him,” Jim accuses her, narrowing his eyes in mock-suspicion. He’s rewarded for his efforts with another eye-roll and a barely-stifled smile. He’ll take it. (He’ll take anything she’ll give him.)

She seems happy today, Jim thinks to himself. He likes to think that he knows Pam Beesly pretty well after two-and-a-half years of loving her, and she seems like she’s having a good day today.

He can’t be sure, obviously, because he’s taken a tablet to suppress the emotional bond they share, but Jim’s reasonably confident that he knows Pam well enough by now to be able to make an educated guess at how she’s feeling. She hasn’t been tap-dancing and singin’ in the rain, or anything obvious like that, but she’s wearing that light pink cardigan she likes, and she was humming a Lifehouse song under her breath at a couple of points earlier. She’s probably just heard it on the radio at some point, but at least this way Jim can pretend that he’s the guy that introduced her to the joys of alternative rock. And yeah, it would have been cooler if it was Snow Patrol, for sure, but at least it’s not, like, Nickelback or something.

He takes a moment to consider it, and concludes that, yes, he would still be hopelessly in love with Pam Beesly even if she was a fan of Nickelback. He’s in deep. His relationship with Dunder Mifflin is defined by Pam Beesly the same way his relationship with the Sixers is defined by Allen Iverson: if it wasn’t for Pam, he would have jacked it in a long time ago.

He still remembers the moment when the pretty receptionist who introduced herself as Pam Beesly had advised him to enjoy this last moment of his life before knowing his desk-mate Dwight. She’d given him a conspiratorial smile, and he’d felt a flicker of good-natured humor, a mild pang of sympathy, and a faint sense of curiosity – and that had been that.

He’d like to say their bond exploded into life, but it was more like it stole across him in the moment and quietly made itself at home. Like the moment the sun comes out from behind clouds, everything had seemed warmer, brighter, sweeter. It would be kind of lame for him to say Pam is the sunshine, but it would also be kind of accurate - she’s the fixed point around which he orients his days, and he feels warmer when he’s near her and colder when he’s sitting at his desk. She’s his favorite person to spend time with, the only work colleague he genuinely enjoys working with, and the obvious choice if he’s looking for a partner-in-crime.

Someday you will be loved, he thinks to himself. Death Cab wouldn’t lie to him.

“You want some help with that?”

Jim experiences a single moment of sheer, unbridled, unrestrained panic and terror before remembering that even if Pam did feel their soul-bond – which she doesn’t, and it fucking sucks – she wouldn’t get mind-reading as part of the deal. “What?”

“If we’re forging official emails, we could forge some official documents, too,” she says, gesturing to the piece of paper on the table in front of them. “I can go to Toby and ask for a Soul-Bond Declaration Form, and then if we go to the photocopier and get a couple of copies, we can just fill them out and pretend they’re from the rest of the office.”

It’s a plan so brilliant that it actually takes Jim a few moments to appreciate it for its stunningly beautiful simplicity. “You want to give Michael fake soulmate forms?”

Pam shrugs. “I mean, it’s not like he’d know the difference.”

Jim inclines his head in appropriate acknowledgement of this point. Harsh, but undeniably accurate. “Could you go and grab some?”

“Sure.” It feels like Pam’s only just sat down, but she hops up to her feet with alacrity. “Don’t go anywhere!”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jim reassures her as she heads for the door. “I’ll still be here, wait –”

But she’s gone before he can finish the sentence, which is probably just as well.

“Waiting for you,” he mumbles to himself, and, yep, it sounds so lame it’s probably for the best that she didn’t stick around to hear him say it.

Jim closes his eyes and lowers his head until it’s pressed against the piece of paper in front of him. His shaggy hair prickles against his forehead and makes a rustling noise against the paper when he lets out a deep sigh.

Don’t get him wrong, Jim loves Pam. Soulmate or not, he’s pretty sure by now that it would be impossible for him not to love her. The fact that she’s not only able but willing to put up with Michael’s constant bullshit says everything you could ever need to know about the kind of person she is: she’s sweet, and kind, and her doodles aren’t just doodles, they’re wry and droll and achingly funny when she doesn’t just scrunch them up and throw them in the recycling bin because she doesn’t think they’re good enough. She’s warm and playful and wickedly funny when she decides Dwight needs taking down a peg or two, and Jim can’t imagine his life without her.

But he can’t help wishing sometimes, on days like today, that she wasn’t his soulmate – that she was just a girl he liked, not The One arbitrarily picked out by him by a universe with a sick sense of humor. Sometimes, Jim wants to just have a casual thing for the receptionist who looks cute with her hair let down.

Sometimes he just wants to love her the same way he loves Donovan McNabb or Brian Dawkins: from afar, uncomplicatedly, with absolutely no repercussions or implications for his long-term emotional wellbeing if things don’t work out. He wasn’t heartbroken when Reggie White left for the Packers – he was even kind of happy for the guy when he won the Super Bowl. But if Pam ever does end up tying the knot with Roy, Jim’s going to have to seriously reconsider whether that joke he’d made to the cameras about throwing himself in front of a train was all that much of a joke.

Because although everyone loves to talk about how wonderful it is to know exactly how your other half is feeling, how it feels like coming home or finding a part of you that you never even knew existed, nobody ever mentions the part where you might find yourself driving into work in the morning, feeling like you’re on top of the world, a smile on your face and a song in your heart, only to be confronted by your soulmate making out with her fiancé in the parking lot. Jim had arrived at the office thirty minutes early for a week after that, until Dwight had gotten suspicious about his newfound enthusiasm and work ethic.

There’s zero chance of that happening again today. He’d sit here with his head on the table for the rest of the day if he could. It’s always like this when he takes his suppressant tablets.

Most of the time, Pam’s emotions are a steady, reassuring background presence to Jim’s day; when she feels amused, it sends a warm glow through his body, and when she’s irritated, he feels the phantom tension in his neck and shoulders. But the tablets leave him feeling detached and disconnected, and he’s gotten used to steadily slogging through the nine-to-five in a state of increasingly listless boredom. But when the alternative is feeling second-degree arousal whenever Roy Anderson walks through the door, can you blame him?

“Oh, God,” Jim mutters darkly, dragging a hand across the back of his head and tugging on his hair in frustration. He’d been doing so well at blocking that memory out; all that hard work for naught.

Pam returns a couple of minutes later with a small pile of forms that she neatly stacks on the table in front of them. They take turns writing the names out, but they confer and discuss together, and it’s almost like a game; so far, they’ve decided that Kevin’s soulmate should be Halle Berry, Stanley’s fated to fall in love with Avril Lavigne, and the other half of Kelly’s soul is none other than Hayden Christiansen. When Jim had written Ryan’s name on the top of one of the forms, Pam had almost ripped the sheet as she snatched it out of his hands, snickering to herself as she wrote Ryan Howard in the Soulmate Declaration section.

She’s still smiling at her own genius when she reaches for the next sheet of paper. “Who’s next?”

Jim tries to remember who in the office they can get away with. Not Dwight or Angela, obviously, and not Phyllis, either – and if anyone else in the office has a secret soulmate, they’ll stay that way because it’s illegal for them to announce it, so Toby won’t know either.

“Toby,” he decides.

“Ooh, good one.” Pam nods approvingly. She scrawls Toby’s name at the top of the page, and looks at Jim expectantly. “Who d’ya think Toby’s soulmate should be?”

Jim thinks about it for a moment, and then draws out his thoughtful hmm, because he likes the way Pam’s watching him, eager to hear what he has to say. He allows himself to indulge for a couple of moments more than is necessary before getting down to business. Who should they say Toby’s soulmate is?

“Jan Levinson-Gould,” he decides, just because it’ll piss Michael off. Judging from the way Pam’s face lights up, it’s a pretty good answer.

“No way,” she gasps, eyes widening in gleeful excitement. “Oh, no, Jim, we can’t do that – Michael will totally flip!”

“Exactly, Pam,” he urges her, feeling a little like a devil sitting on her shoulder. “You can’t tell me you don’t want to see how he reacts.”

“Jim,” she shakes her head, but it’s kind of hard for her to scowl at him when she’s fighting back a smile. “That’s too harsh, we can’t do that to Toby.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Michael already hates him enough!”

“Alright, fine.” Jim lets out a sigh, and shoots her a mock-dirty look. “Catherine Zeta-Jones.”

It’s truly a gift, Jim thinks to himself, how Pam’s able to make the roll of her eyes seem so affectionate when Jim knows that it’s totally (tortuously) platonic.

“No,” she judges, although Jim can tell that she’s more tempted than she’s letting on. “Oscar and I already kind of made him look bad in our emails, so we should probably give him a break.”

“You can make it up to him by picking his soulmate, then,” Jim decides. If he sounds moderately sulky, it’s only because his great ideas have been rejected.

“Edith Loring Getchell,” she decides, which is a name that means absolutely nothing to Jim.

“Who’s that?” He asks dubiously.

“She was a painter,” Pam informs him as she writes the name out on the form in her small, neat hand. “She studied at the Philadelphia Academy of Fine Arts. I really like her work.”

It’s enough to make Jim look around the room for the cameras.

This has to be some kind of joke. The fact that Pam is deciding that someone in the office gets to be soulmates with a Pennsylvanian artist is bad enough, but when you factor in that that someone is not him and the artist is not her?

This is why Jim hates soulmates.

“Almost there,” she announces, setting Toby’s form aside and pulling a new, blank one. “Just a couple more to go.”

“Who’s next?” Jim asks, trying to run through the rest of his co-workers as a way of distracting himself from plotting Toby’s untimely demise. “Creed?”

Pam hums a little noncommittally and pulls a face, which is a less-than-enthusiastic response.

“I mean, not everyone in the world has a soulmate,” she points out. “And we’ve given everyone else soulmates. We could just leave Creed’s form blank and move on to Oscar and Meredith.”

It’s a good point, and Jim gladly acquiesces. He could try to imagine the kind of person who would perfectly complement Creed’s personality traits and moral and intellectual character, but the chances are he’d end up writing Hannibal Lecter, or something. Sometimes, the easiest option is also the best.

“Maybe you could say he volunteered for a CIA program that surgically removed his soul-bond,” he offers.

“You think Creed was part of MKUltra?” Pam asks doubtfully, giving him a dubious look and a raised eyebrow. “

“Fair enough,” he acknowledges. “Knowing Creed, it’s more likely he killed them.”

Pam laughs as she jots Creed’s name down at the top of the sheet before pushing it away without a second glance.

“I’m putting Meredith’s soulmate down as George Clooney,” she tells him with a mischievous grin. “You might be able to convince me to change it to ‘Michael Scott’, but you’ll have to be quick about it.”

“Fire away,” Jim says, gesturing that she can go ahead without delay. “I was thinking we could just say that Michael’s was ‘Classified Information’ and watch him freak out.”

Pam giggles as she takes another page from their rapidly-dwindling supply, and Jim can’t help but be distracted by how bare her finger looks without her engagement ring. She must have forgotten to put it on today.

“Jim Halpert,” she intones as she marks his name in block capitals. “Who’s your soulmate?”

Oh, God.

Jim has to think fast, or this could end in disaster. Hardly an uncommon thought considering his colleagues, but this is definitely a departure from the norm.

“Julian Casablancas,” he says, because at the risk of sounding like Meat Loaf, he’ll do anything for love, but he won’t do that.

Pam pauses with the pen hovering over the paper. “Who?”

Jim stands firm and refuses to break. He’s been working at Dunder fucking Mifflin for two-and-a-half years for this girl, he’s learnt the difference between a quire and a ream and a bundle for this girl, he’s endured Dwight and Michael and Creed for this girl. He can have this one, just this once. “Lead singer for The Strokes.”

Pam wrinkles her nose, and it’s got no right being as endearing as it is. “I’m going to write Moby, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Now that’s just mean,” Jim complains. He maybe exaggerates his mock-shudder a little, but hey, better to oversell than undersell, and that’s coming from someone who sells stuff for a living. He’d definitely prefer to keep this particular conversation lighthearted.

Pam doesn’t laugh, but she does give him a smile that’s a little smaller than usual. It’s softer and warmer around the edges, and it does funny things to his insides.

“I’ve got one for you,” she says, bending over the paper again and using her free hand to cover whatever name she’s writing. “I think you’ll like this one.”

“Are you sure?” Jim can’t help but ask. Even if it’s a fake form, he’s still got his ego to consider. “You’re not going to put down, like, Chris Martin, or something lame like that?”

“Excuse you,” she sniffs. “You wish you were cool enough to be Chris Martin’s soulmate.”

Now that he’s seen the alternative, Jim thinks he could learn to live with loving a Nickelback fan. Someday.

“Okay,” Pam announces. She’s biting her lip and looking oddly nervous as she slides the paper over to him. “What do you think?”

Jim looks at the form. When he looks back at Pam, they're both smiling.