Pam smiles as a shadow crosses her desk.  She wonders when she will stop being surprised to find him looming over the edge, just like he had a year ago. 

"Was that Michael?"  Jim asks as he rifles through the candy dish.

She nods and smiles wider.  "He wants everyone to be at their desks when he comes in."  

"When will he be here?"

"Like ten minutes.  He says it's a very important announcement."

"Well then I have nine minutes and thirty seconds to stay here and talk to you."  He smiles widely as he settles in, resting his elbows on her desk.

She gazes back as he continues to tease her.  As he does only one thought fills her mind.

This is much better.

"Pam." 

She stops mid giggle and turns her head slightly to her left.   She can see Dwight's scowl out of the corner of her eye.

"Need something, Dwight?"  Jim asks curiously.

"I need Pam's assistance - and this has nothing to do with you.  You should get back to work." he snaps back.

Jim bites his lip and regards Dwight carefully.  "As your boss, I need to point out that you should get back to work.  And by the way - I think you should know - I represent Pam now..."

"Represent her?"

"Well yeah.  With all this filming and documentary stuff...Pam's a hot commodity."  Jim says with a grin.

"A hot...?" Pam begins but trails off as she catches the look in Jim's eye.  It's clear he's up to something.

"So, she needs someone to look after her interests.  Now tell me Dwight - what exactly are you approaching Pam about?"

Dwight ignores Jim's question and looks over at Pam imploringly. 

She bites back a grin and nods solemnly.  "Dwight - it's okay."  She turns her attention to Jim.  "Can you give us a minute?"

His eyebrows rise as he gazes down at her.  In return she gives an almost unperceivable wink.  He backs away from her desk slowly, a grin spreading across his face, content in knowing he'll get the full story later.

Dwight stares straight at Pam and whispers conspiratorially.   "We have a project."

"OK."

"Please follow me.  Bring a pad and pen or number two pencil...and do..."  He leans closer, his voice lowers considerably.  "Do you have any more of those...candies?"

"Jellybeans?"

"Yes."

She reaches into her bottom desk drawer and pulls out a small white bag, handing it over with a grin.  "I do.  Actually...I bought some black ones.  Those are your favorites right?"

"You are quite observant."  Dwight declares as he makes his way towards the conference room.

"Thank you Dwight."

"You're welcome." 

Pam settles into a chair at the table and places her pad and pen in front of her waiting patiently for Dwight to explain the purpose of this meeting.

"Michael has a task for me - for us..."

"OK." 

"He is searching for his long lost relatives.  He believes - as do I - that this might be the key to his financial freedom."

Pam leans her chin on her hand and narrows her gaze, fighting to keep her voice level.    She already had an inkling of this.  Michael is not at all subtle.  When he asked her to Google Really rich old people who are related to Michael G. Scott she'd had her first clue. 

Still she solemnly asks.  "And how is that?"

"People learn of lost inheritances all the time.  When my Uncle Heimlich died he left thousands - near millions.  Unfortunately there was the problem of not being able to prove Mose's parentage, which has now been resolved..."

"And how does this pertain to Michael exactly?"

"We need to do research, Pam."  Dwight grabs an enormous handful of black jelly beans. 

She cringes; knowing that having his mouthful isn't going to keep him from continuing this conversation.

"Hours of research."

She nods again.  "I'll start right away then."

"You'll give me reports every evening before you go home, correct?"

"Of course Dwight."

"Detailed reports.  In triplicate.  No.  Quadruplicate."  As Pam stands and begins to gather her things Dwight leans across the table his teeth a disturbing shade of gray. 

"You understand you'll be compensated well - monetarily speaking - once all is said and done?"

Though it's hard to do, Pam holds his gaze steadily.  "Absolutely I do."

Dwight turns swiftly on his heel and leaves the room.  Pam shakes her head, trying to keep from laughing as she follows behind.

Jim is nearly on the edge of his seat wondering what has just gone on between Dwight and Pam.  He pushes back his chair and is just about to approach her to ask when there's the sound of a commotion near the door.

"DWIGHT." 

Michael is standing in the entrance way of the office wearing a gold crown embellished with plastic jewels and a long red felt cape trimmed in white faux fur.

Dwight and Andy scramble together to reach the door, tripping over themselves to get a hold of the hem of Michael's cape.   Dwight elbows Andy out of the way, nearly making him topple over in the process.

Pam turns to look at Jim.  He simply bows his head and tries to hold in his laughter.

Dwight clears his throat and begins.  "Hear ye...hear ye...citizens of Dunder-Mifflin, may I present to you..."   He looks at Michael with a confused expression.

"Michael..."

Exasperated beyond belief Michael finishes the sentence for him.  "Michael, King of Scotts."

The rest of the office hears the declaration and goes straight back to work. 

Michael can't believe the lack of respect.    He looks over at Pam who smiles sweetly.  "You look very regal Michael."

"Thank you, fair Lady Beesly..."   He turns his attention to Jim.  "Ahh.  My gentle knight...Sir James of Halpert..."

"Oh hey Michael.  So glad you're here."

"Do you like my royal garments?"

"Yeah they're great.  Listen...I'll have a Whopper with cheese, hold the onions and a large fry.  Pam?  Can I get you anything?"

"Onion rings and a chicken sandwich."

"Done.  Pam would like onion rings and a chicken sandwich.  And give us two Cokes with that."  Jim reaches in his pocket to grab his wallet.  "How much do I owe you?"

"Jim."  Michael replies through clenched teeth.  "I am not Burger King." 

"You're not?  Are you sure?  You look a lot like him - although you might be missing something.  I can't quite figure it out.  Pam?"

"It's the beard Jim."  She says thoughtfully.  "He's missing the beard...and the moustache."

"Of course."  Jim nods.  "That's too bad.  I could really go for a hamburger right now.  Can you take the crown off a sec?  Your hair...it's looking a bit on the reddish side.  Maybe you're Wendy?"

"Mmmm.  I'd love a Frosty..."  Pam grins.

"Look.  Stop.  I'm not Burger King or Wendy or the guy with the goatee and the chicken.  I'm the King of Scotts.  I'm the rightful ruler of all those named Scott - near and far."

"Do you mean Scots?  Like from Scotland?  Jim squints at him.  "Because I'm not sure if you realized we're actually in America..."

"I mean Scotts.  My last name is Scott, so I'd be the King of....Scotts.  Jim.  I'm talking about my heritage.  My...genes if you will."

"You mean your fun jeans?"

"No.  Not my fun jeans.  I mean my..."  His forehead wrinkles as he struggles to explain.  "...DNR or my nationality."  Michael is beyond exasperated.  "Did you not pay attention at my Diversity seminar?"

Jim looks up and grins widely at Pam.  "I was a little distracted that day."

"Well you can watch the tape of my presentation again this afternoon.   My point is that I'm 29.8% sure that I have descended from royalty."

"Wow.  Sounds like a sure thing then."

"Exactly."  Michael agrees.  "See what I'm saying here Jim is that I'm sure that there's some sort of treasure or dowry that comes along with it."

"A treasure?"  Jim can't believe how this just keeps getting better and better.  "Are you the king of pirates?" 

"No.  Not pirates.  Jim.  Never mind."  Michael adjusts his crown before turning to retreat to his office.  He becomes tangled in his cape causing Dwight to stumble behind him.  "I will be in my royal chamber should you need me."

"Thanks."  Jim chuckles as he turns back to face Pam.

"Lunch?"  She says with a wide smile.  "I really would like a Frosty now."

He nods as he stands and grabs his jacket off the back of the chair.  "Sure.  And I'm buying."