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Story Notes:

This story owes quite a bit to some outside influences: two glasses on wine [thank you, wine bottle with the koala bear on it], mouse2002 in the TWoP spoiler thread who first came up with this crazy from left field idea [don't worry, spoiler phobes, we have no reason to believe this will actually happen], Anderson Cooper's stint on The Mole [this video is appropriately backed by Sheryl Crow's "You're My Favorite Mistake"], Maybe Once for having a bad day [I turn your loss into inspiration], and the readers who are going to let me get away with posting something unbetaed to hold us over until Moxie gets the next chapter of that McNutpants posted.

Disclaimer: Do I want this to happen? Yes. Can I make it happen? No. Why not? I don't own the characters. Why not? Because I don't have the money to buy them from NBC. Why not? Because I haven't won the lottery yet. Why not? ...shut up.

She loved Bob Vance and her marriage was going great so far, but every marriage has its compromises. On Monday night, the compromise was staying later than usual for her ride home.

As the sun shined in her face this morning, Phyllis had one hand on the wheel and the other draped over the middle console on to Bob Vance's knee. It was a beautiful morning, she thought. But as the sun set and Bob Vance called to let her know he had some extra work to do, she wasn't as excited. The good news was that she brought in the scarf she was knitting for him and had gotten a good part of it done without anyone in the office to bug her.

As she finished another row of knit stitches, she looked up to see Eric walking toward her from the camera crew's hideout down the long hallway by the conference room. Eric was her favorite camera guy because he always asked the best questions during her interviews and was always the least disruptive during the days he was assigned to film. She totally understood why the documentary company put him in charge.

"Hey Phyllis," he said, a quizzical look on his face. "What are you doing here this late?"

"Oh, Poor Richard's had a whole bank of bar fridges blow out, so Bob Vance is fixing them to keep the bottles cold," she explained with pride in her voice. "I should be leaving soon though."

She watched Eric look around the place, but there was nothing and noone to see. "So you're closing up tonight?" he asked, a smirk on his face.

"Guess so," she replied. She watched him standing in front of her, his head down, his face turning serious. "You OK?"

His eyes flew back up to meet hers. "Oh yeah," he stammered. "Yes, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," he said with a smile on his face that faded quickly. "Actually...no."

"I could tell," Phyllis said matter-of-factly.

He gave her a bit of an embarrassed smile. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"Well, here's the deal," he said, taking a deep breath. "The company found a possible distributor for the documentary."

"People like watching us do our jobs?" Phyllis asked, a little surprised.

"Yeah," he said. "Well, except there's a problem. We sent them this compilation of scenes that we've shot so far and they liked them overall. They liked Michael and the pranks Jim plays on Dwight and all that. Oh, and they loved the footage from your wedding! They thought it was so great!"

"Really?" Phyllis asked energetically. "That's so nice!"

"Yes and no," Eric replied. "See...they loved the romance and they want more of it for the documentary. The problem is what they want, we don't have."

"What don't you have?"

He looked down at his feet again. "Jim and Pam. Together."

Now it was Phyllis's turn to be a little depressed. She liked Karen, sure, but she loved the way Jim and Pam just seemed so good together. Even when Pam was still with Roy, she thought Jim was better than Pam's lughead of a fiance. They were just...they could be as happy as Phyllis and Bob Vance if they only would do something about it.

"I don't know how you're going to make that happen," Phyllis said, a note of depression in her voice.

"Yeah," Eric replied, the same note in his. And then his face perked up. "Wait a minute. How long are you going to be here?"

"Another half hour, maybe."

"OK, so listen, I have a crazy idea," Eric said, his voice getting more animated. "Maybe you can help me. I mean, it's a bit unethical, but if we could just get some footage by the end of the week, we could get this thing off the ground."

"What kind of help?" Phyllis asked.

"On MTV, they do this show called The Real World and it's a bunch of stupid college kids they throw in a house together and the producers totally manipulate the story behind the scenes to make it more dramatic and such. You know, a fridge stocked full of beer or an in-house jacuzzi to encourage people to skinny dip and such. So maybe you could be the drama we add to the show?"

"I think I'm too old for that, Eric."

"No, no. It wouldn't be like that MTV show. It would be more...well...you would just be in the background nudging things the right way. What do you think?" She was getting a little skeptical about the idea. "Listen, it would only be for this week. We need to get something to this distributor by Friday night and then you're off the hook."

"I guess it wouldn't hurt," she said. "Are you sure this is OK?"

Eric looked down at his feet again. "It's what needs to be done to get some real interest in this thing. You know how long we've been working here and we just need a break, you know?"

She looked at Eric and the desperation on his face. She couldn't walk away without helping. "I'm in," she said.

"You're in?" he asked excitedly.

"I'm in."

"Great!" he said, grinning from ear to ear. "That's just awesome, Phyllis. Listen, though, I think you need to see something first."

"OK," she responded.

"But you can't tell anyone, and I mean NO ONE!, about what I'm going to show you."

"OK."

He smiled. "Follow me," he said, leading her back into the crew's control room.

She had never been in there -- no one in the office was allowed in, actually -- so she was a bit startled by all the DVDs that lined the shelves around the room. She watched as Eric ran his fingers over the spines of the cases, each one meticulously labelled. Diversity Day. Big Sale -- Jan, Michael, Chili's. Call of Duty -- Stamford. Office Olympics -- Flonkerton, PamPong. PamPong? Phyllis had never heard of that, but she did remember winning the flonkerton race that day.

"Here it is!" Eric said, snapping Phyllis out of her daydreaming. He had a DVD in his hand and she could see the cover read, in big, bold letters, "CASINO NIGHT! JIM/PAM". She wondered why they were in all bold. "OK, before I show this to you, please remember what I said."

"I remember," she told him.

"You can't tell anyone you saw this."

"I won't."

He smiled and started getting giddy, like a kid ready to run downstairs on Christmas morning. "I'm so glad I finally get to share this with someone besides the crew. This has been, like, our biggest secret!" he said, almost skipping over to the nearest DVD player and popping the disc in. He moved back from the machine and pressed the fast forward button on his remote. The monitors started flashing with images from the night the office hosted a casino down in the warehouse. Bob Vance gave away a fridge to the biggest winner that night, Phyllis remembered proudly. But she didn't see Bob Vance, just brief glimpses on the monitor of Jim and Pam playing poker, Jim drinking at the bar, Pam talking to Roy by the roulette table.

"OK, here it is," Eric said, slowing it down. "You know Mike? The tall camera guy? This is what he caught on camera that night."

On the monitor, she saw Jim and Pam standing alone in the parking lot. She heard Jim's voice coming through the speakers in the room. "I'm in love with you." Phyllis sucked in her breath with anticipation. "I can't." And just like that, she let it all out in pain. She watched Jim wipe a tear from his eye and walk away as she wiped one from her own. "Oh dear," she said. "No wonder Jim left."

Eric, however, didn't notice. He was too busy pressing the fast forward button. "Don't get too depressed yet. There's more," he said as Phyllis watched the fast-motion scenes flicker before her in quick succession. The camera guy walking to the kitchen and peering out through the blinds. Pam walking in right after that and using Jim's phone. "Here," Eric said, quietly, pressing the play button.  Phyllis watched Jim walk in determined, grab Pam, and sweep her up in a warm and passionate kiss. And then all too soon, she heard him say "OK" as his hand slipped from Pam's.

The room went dark. She sat there stunned.

"So you see why you can't tell anyone about what I just showed you?" Eric asked.

Phyllis could only nod.

"And you see what we're up against?" he asked. He sounded a bit heartbroken himself.

"Yes, I do," she said.

He looked at her hopefully. "You can help us, can't you?"

It sounded like there was alot riding on her. First, she had to think about the livelihoods of the camera crew, who worked tirelessly on this everyday. And then, of course, the happiness of Jim and Pam. But she had to try.

She looked Eric in the eye. "I'll do what I can."

He smiled back. "Thanks, Phyllis," he said, standing up and giving her a hug. "Now, I hate to say this to you, but you have to forget what you saw, you can't let on that you know anything. Just do your normal routine, only with more Matchmaker Phyllis."

She laughed. "Matchmaker Phyllis?"

"Yeah, you're our matchmaking mole."

"I'm honored," she said, looking at her watch. "Oh, and I have to go."

"Oh, OK. So you're now on your own. You can't even tell the other camera guys. If you really get stuck, though, come talk to me and me only."

She smiled. "I will."

"See you tomorrow, Phyllis."

"See you tomorrow." She turned in the doorway to close the door behind her and saw Eric meticulously closing the DVD case and slipping it gently back on the shelf.

She easily forgave Bob Vance for running late that night.

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