The Tuesday began like most others for Pam Beesly: not great, because she had to be at work, but not completely awful because she knew Michael was likely to be out of the office most of the day. Now, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t have to deal with him—Alexander Graham Bell had a lot to answer for, in her opinion, but instead of him answering for it, she had to, every time someone called, even if Michael called fourteen times in one hour (his current high score, as duly marked down on a sheet of paper Jim had given her labeled Office Records)—but it did mean she was generally likely to be free of his more urgent and less reasonable demands.

On the other hand, it also meant she was usually subjected to a great deal more of Dwight’s craziness, because with Michael out of the office he became inclined (well, more inclined) to megalomania and the belief that he was assistant regional manager and thus in charge in Michael’s absence. Her and Jim’s repeated reminders that he was in fact assistant to the regional manager, and that Stanley was actually in charge in the absence of Michael by virtue of seniority (not that he did anything with it, which was exactly what they preferred) tended to fall on increasingly unlistening ears as the day wore on.

So on the whole Tuesdays were pretty meh in Pam’s book. This particularly Tuesday was looking likely to be even more meh than usual because Roy had a headache, which meant he was in a bad mood, and Jim had been acting really weird on Monday. Now, often when Jim acted really weird that meant that he was planning some kind of prank, which would normally be a sign that things were going to be good the next day, but normally when he did that, he included her, and it had been several weeks since he’d last talked to her about a prank on Dwight—something to do with turning on her webcam if he bowed and his taking fulsome notes on everything at work—and while that prank hadn’t come to fruition, as far as she knew, he also hadn’t said anything about it yesterday, which made her doubt it was coming anytime soon. He told her things. It was what they did, tell each other things, especially about pranks. So if Jim wasn’t telling her something, and was acting weird, it worried her a little bit. She didn’t know what to do with it, and she didn’t like that. Jim was one of the constants in her life; worrying about him put her a little bit on edge, even more than Roy’s headache-induced frustration had this morning.

She got to work early—Roy hadn’t slept well, so he’d actually gotten up on time, if prickly as a bear—and puttered around waiting for everyone else to come in. Nine o’clock rolled around and there was no sign of Jim, but that wasn’t entirely unusual with Michael not there so she just kept an eye on the door while playing solitaire on her computer. At 9:10 a rather handsome-looking man pushed through the doors, bowed to her formally, and sat at Jim’s desk, tossing down a shoulderbag that she recognized as Jim’s and logging into the computer. Her eyes lingered in confusion and she noticed the picture of Jim’s family on the desk was a little off-center from where it usually was—which made her realize it also wasn’t the same picture. The very man currently sitting at the desk looked back at her with two adorable children making the same pose Jim’s niblings had made back when he’d gotten the picture a year ago. He’d shown it to her proudly, she remembered. There was no way it would be changed, let alone into a picture of someone else…unless this was a prank.

A prank that required the webcam. The man had bowed to her, hadn’t he? And he was acting like Jim? Well, that practically meant Jim had bowed to her, and that was the signal. She pressed the button on the top of the webcam, set up the streaming link she’d practiced, and pulled out her phone to text Jim. He owed her for not telling her this was coming! But despite her annoyance at not being in the loop, she was conscious of a swelling of gladness deep within her. This was going to be anything but a typical Tuesday.

Her brief exchange with Jim confirmed that she was right, and then all thought of further texting vanished from her mind when Dwight walked back in from the break room to find “Jim” at Jim’s desk. At first, she worried that whoever-this-was wouldn’t be able to deal with Dwight, but she realized she should have had more faith in Jim and whomever he chose to work with. He knew his people—the guy was just stone cold. She had a difficult time holding in her laughter as he did a startlingly good impression of Jim on the days when he just couldn’t deal with Dwight. She was desperately trying to figure out some way to help when he referred to his voicemail, and the fact that he was able to dial into it surprised her as much as it did Dwight. Toby’s heroic appearance—and wink!—told her that he was in on Jim’s prank, and assumed she was too, and she felt a little bit of sadness that this time she wasn’t, not really. Sure, she’d turned on the webcam (and he owed her for that) but beyond that…she was usually at the heart of Jim’s pranks, and she wasn’t sure exactly how she felt about being excluded this time. Especially if Toby was. Admittedly, he was Jim’s friend, but not his best friend. That was her. Wasn’t it?

He was certainly hers, and it would make her very sad if she weren’t his, a thought she’d never actually fully acknowledged to herself before.

The day calmed down after Dwight was routed by the picture—she would have been in awe of it if she hadn’t noticed it beforehand, and even then she was still a little bit in awe—and Jim’s friend, whoever he was (maybe he was Jim’s best friend, she thought, and sank a little lower in her chair) settled down to do some real work. Apparently Jim had really briefed him on the material—maybe he was another paper salesman from somewhere else?—because he was working that spreadsheet like no one’s business.

Just as she was starting to ease back into routine, almost forgetting that it wasn’t Jim there except for the fact that he wasn’t looking at her, the phone rang. She answered on autopilot, praying that it wasn’t Michael again.

“Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam.”

“Hi, I’d like to speak to Jim Halpert.” It was like her ears had been waiting all day to drink in his voice, because there was no doubt in her mind that, despite the incongruous request, it was Jim on the phone. Why was he calling? Was there something wrong with the prank? She needed direction—direction she’d have if he’d just included her in the prank to begin with.

“And who may I say is calling?” She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. If he wanted her to transfer him to his new best friend he was going to have to tell her to, or just include her next time. “I’m happy to transfer you to Jim, but I really do need to know who’s on the phone.” Maybe he’d at least tell her something about the prank? Maybe who the hell this guy was that apparently he’d been hanging out with enough to teach him every aspect of their job? Not that she and Jim hung out after work, like, ever, but still. It was the principle of the thing, somehow.

“His friend, Steve Kim.” No way that wasn’t “Jim”’s real name. So at least she had something to go on.

“Just a moment, Mr. Kim.” She said the last a little louder than usual. The guy at the desk might not be Jim, but just having him play Jim meant that, while she was irrationally annoyed that he might be closer to Jim than she was, he was still her ally in the eternal struggle against boredom and Dwight. He deserved to know who was calling—and besides, if he blurted out Jim’s name it might ruin Jim’s prank, and she was too good of a best damn friend to let that happen.

The guy greeted Jim as Steve while she frantically started Googling Steve Kims in the Scranton area. It was not a rare name, so she had several false starts, but she quickly found the employee page at one of the local law firms, with a smiling “Jim” looking back at her from a brief profile on one Stephen P. Kim. The same smiling face that loomed over her desk as, phone call done, he moseyed his way up to her and tapped on the desk.

“Hey, Pam.” He reached over and took a jellybean, in true Jim fashion. “So, the Kim account—he just called to say I should check in with you about its status?”

What?. “Oh, of course.” Seriously, what did Jim want her to say? She needed to talk to him about including her next time. “He, uh, just wanted you to know the new delivery went through without a hitch.” Steve worked at a law firm, right? They were probably a client, or at least plausibly one.

“Great, thanks.” He rolled the jellybean in his fingers and, to her surprise, put it back in the jar. “Just put him through if he calls again, OK? He’s a very important client.”

“Of course, Jim.” She smiled up at him, and he grinned back, and she reflected that he really was very nice. Of course he was. No one could convincingly play Jim if they weren’t.

“Thanks, Pam.” He tapped the desk again and wandered back to his desk.

Now what was that about, Pam wondered, but then Michael called and she got distracted and it never came up again. Neither did Jim-Steve: that one appearance was his only visit to her desk that day, and she found by five pm that she’d played three times her usual number of complete games of solitaire.

Without winning once.