Even on Michael’s diversity day, you realize that working as a receptionist for Dunder Mifflin has given the word boredom an entirely new definition.

You sit at your desk, just like you do every single day, your eyes glued to your computer screen, trying to challenge your mind with a game of free cell. And then you see him approach your desk, his hand immediately dipping into the container of jelly beans that you so thoughtfully placed there for him and him alone. Because you’re friends and he loves jellybeans.

He leans over your desk, popping the jellybean into his mouth, obviously noticing your sad, sad game of solitaire. His eyes move from you to screen and in seconds, he’s leaning over even further, his arm falling before you, gesturing toward the screen. He points to the six of clubs then to the seven of hearts before his hand is gone again, back up underneath his chin. You admit, shyly that you, as free cell master, had already seen the move and then embarrassingly tell him, as you would only tell Jim Halpert, that you were saving that move because you love to hear that funny sound the computer makes when you win.

Truthfully, even if its just a silly game of free cell, you love to know that you’ve succeeded at something, anything.

But he doesn’t laugh at you. Not like you would expect. Certainly not like how Roy might react to such a stupid thing to do. No, Jim Halpert reacts as only Jim Halpert would. He remains at your desk, his face serious and understanding, and he questions who wouldn’t love that.

You giggle, turning back to your screen, and find yourself wondering if the real question was: who wouldn’t love Jim Halpert?

You think about this question too much during the course of the day, in between the meetings, and the role playing, and the free cell. Especially when Michael steps out of his office and gives his speech, asks if there were any connections or emotions. You can’t help it when your eyes fall to Jim, or how he turns his chair around to give you a quick glance. You listen as Jim attempts to make that big sale he makes every year, you almost laugh at how he’s continually interrupted. But he never gets mad. Frustrated? Yes. Angry? Never. You’ve never seen him angry, you realize. He’s always pulling pranks or making you laugh.

He’s never made you cry. Not like Roy has.

You’re glad you found such a good friend in Jim Halpert. You remind yourself that he’s just your friend.

Michael pulls you and some of the rest of the office into a room as he gives yet another speech. You sit in the back row, far corner, your mind weary. You stare at Michael with heavy eyelids, bored to exhaustion, as Jim walks in and takes the seat right beside you. His arm gently brushes against yours and you sit there and try to determine if its his cologne or soap that makes his smell so good. Michael’s words begin to blend into one another, the air becoming thick and heavy. You can’t keep your eyes open anymore, your head feels so heavy.

And then it’s not heavy anymore. It’s landed on something soft, strong. You nestle into it, your eyes falling all the way closed, the smell of cologne or soap lulling your senses into a light sleep.

And you dream of him. Dream that you’re standing on a beach, he’s wearing loose khaki pants and a half-open white shirt that sways open from the breeze, barefoot in the sand, his eyes glued on you and only one. It’s cool, calm, and you’re alone. You feel yourself smiling and know you’re happy. Because he’s there, because he’s smiling right back at you, because your hands are intertwined with his. He leans closer, closer now....

Then, you hear your name. Or something like your name. And when you open your eyes, the room is empty, but the shoulder beneath you is warm. His eyes are the first thing you see and you can’t describe the emotion within them. You lift your head, a smile tilting your lips, a pink blush rising to your cheeks.

You dreamt of him while sleeping on him.

And suddenly, you’re embarrassed. You stand fast, whispering an apology, as you rush past him and out the door. You feel him only a few steps behind you and realize only then that your heart is beating fast, rapid against your chest. And you wonder when was the last time you’d had such a great sleep or such a great dream.