Jim had been back in the Scranton office for two days before he had a moment to plug in his iPod and import his music onto this computer. Some days putting on headphones was the only way to push Dwight far enough into the background to get any work done.

Importing his own songs, he felt the prickle of Pam’s attention on the back of his neck. Odd that he could still feel it now that he couldn’t meet her eyes. He wondered what she was listening to these days. He used to love sharing new bands and songs with her. Sometimes his first reaction to a song was that Pam would love it.

He clicked over to share his own library and see who else was sharing. Kevin had his usual assortment of comedy CDs and the 80s classics Scrantonicity covered. Kelly’s list was a disturbing collection of boy bands and tarted-up teenaged girls. Andy even shared a selection of 90s girl groups and college a capella. Dwight was password-protected. Well, that wouldn’t be much of a challenge. And Pam.

Huh. Pam’s library was also password-protected. Behind him, the phone rang. “Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam.” The receptionist in Stamford had always sounded wrong to him.

That afternoon, in between sales calls, chummy and completely unnecessary meetings with Michael, and arranging to meet Karen for drinks after work, he tried a few passwords—Roy’s full name, his birthday, Pam’s birthday, the names of all her family members. The dog she had in high school. Her favorite artists and authors. Places she’d been. Once he almost typed in his own name, but he stopped short. That was a certain path to madness.

On Wednesday, he decided to play dirty.

“Hey, Phyllis,” he said as casually as he could manage.

Phyllis was pouring herself a cup of coffee in the break room. “Morning, Jim.”

Jim shoved his hands into his pockets and took another step closer, ducking his head a bit. “Hey, do you know Pam’s iTunes library password?”

Phyllis chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t.” She stirred in a packet of sugar. “Besides, I don’t think she’d want me to tell you.”

He nodded. “You’re probably right.” Sighing, he poured his own cup and returned to his desk.

Pam regarded him with a mixture of amusement and triumph. He thought he saw something else, just behind her smile, but then he heard Karen’s chair move and Pam looked back to her Sudoku.

Jim tried to concentrate on work. That certainly wouldn’t last long, but he might get an idea.

That afternoon’s ideas included her Dundies, favorite snack foods, and a few inside jokes, but nothing worked. Logically, he knew this wasn’t important. He could just get up and ask her, and she’d probably tell him. But that would be giving up. Right now it was a puzzle, a game, something between just the two of them. And given the distance he was trying so hard to maintain between them, this was as close as he could handle being.

This was a fresh start, he was determined, even if it was the same old place. New desk, new title, new suits, new girl. No pranks, no shared looks over Michael’s particular brand of crazy, and definitely no falling back into old patterns with Pam.

Thursday Jim listened to his own music. He only thought about Pam every time she answered the phone. Sadly, that was progress.