"Why don't you ever get one of those cardboard cup sleeves?" Grace asked.

"Jan hates those, and if I forget to remove it before I hand the drink to her..." Pam trailed off as the steel doors opened. She had been Jan's assistant for six weeks now and had yet to get through a week without some sort of coffee-related dilemma. Grace stepped off the elevator with Pam right behind her.

"Let me guess, you're better off burning your hand?" Grace said, opening the glass door for Pam.

"You got it," Pam said.

"Well then, get it to her before you form a blister," Grace said, fishing her bluetooth headset out of the top drawer of the front desk.

"Yes, ma'am," Pam said with a smile and she started down the hall to Jan's office. When she opened the door Pam was greeted by the back of a leather chair, Jan was already on the phone giving orders in her usual calm-but-firm voice. Pam cleared her throat and set the latte down on the desk. Jan spun around to Pam and held up her index finger as she finished up the call.

"Good Morning, Pam," Jan said, replacing the phone receiver. She picked up a stack of papers on her desk and handed it to Pam. "I'm going to need ten sets of those sales reports for a meeting on Wednesday, and the release form needs to be faxed to Stamford and signed by anyone coming to that meeting."

Pam nodded and thumbed through the reports, taking care not to linger on the one that said "Halpert, James" at the top. She reached the last document, one she recognized signing herself last year.

"Why do the Stamford people need to sign the release form for the Scranton documentary?" Pam wondered aloud.

Jan, already engrossed in writing in her calendar, looked up, surprised to see Pam was still there. "What was that?"

"Oh, just this release form," Pam said, "we all signed one like it for the documentary at Scranton."

"Yes, like I said, the leadership from Stamford and Scranton will both be here on Wednesday. We'll be discussing options for consolidation."

"You didn't say that," Pam muttered.

"Pam, I really can't hear you when you talk so low," Jan said.

"So they'll be filming?" Pam said quickly.

"Yes, for some reason they find Michael Scott to be a fascinating topic," Jan said, rolling her eyes. "All it's does is give him a great excuse to act out more."

"Michael was about the same with the camera crew there. Actually, he may even get in less trouble now because the interviews distract him," Pam retorted.

Jan narrowed her eyes. "That's right," she said mostly to herself.

Pam felt her own eyes widen, "What's right?"

"Pam, plan on meeting me at the end of the day, we're going to discuss the best ways to, um, work with Michael. Oh, and plan on sitting in on that meeting Wednesday." Jan opened her calendar back up and started writing. Pam supposed that was Jan's way of letting her assistants know they were dismissed. Her hand just reached the doorknob when Jan called her name.

Pam spun around, "Yes?"

"As I mentioned before, we're having a little lunch reception in the conference room to welcome the newer people, it's nothing big but I'd like you to introduce yourself." Jan said.

Pam nodded, "Okay, sounds good." She exited Jan's office and waited for the door behind her to latch before muttering, "And no, you didn't mention it before."

For the first time since the documentary started shooting last year, Jim felt nervous sitting down for an interview. The crew was back from their summer break, setting up equipment while Jim sat against the far side of the conference room, tapping his foot and trying to mentally prepare for the obvious questions they were going to ask. It was a quiet summer; the most exciting thing that happened at work was Heather, the receptionist hired right after Pam, storming out after only three weeks, making Kevin the winner of his bet with Jim. The new-new receptionist was a middle-aged woman named Mary who would give Jim a polite smile and asked if he needed something every time he unconsciously looked up at her. He was now down to only looking at the reception desk a couple of times a day.

"Are you ready Jim?" the documentary interviewer asked.

Jim nodded and sat up straight in his chair. The red light of the camera went on, and Jim rested his hands on his lap.

The interviewer got straight to it, "You're not wearing a ring."

Jim gazed down at his left hand, cursing himself for not doing a better job obstructing his ring-less finger. "Yeah, um, the wedding didn't happen. Lisa decided she wasn't ready and I … it was mutual, she didn't leave me at the alter or anything. It actually wasn't a big deal, I mean we lost the deposit on the catering and reception hall, the bridesmaids were pretty mad about ordering $200 peach-colored dresses, and I had to return a few gifts. Michael really wanted us to have his gift though, a hand-painted poster of himself as Scarface. Surprisingly enough Lisa insisted I keep it."

The interviewer chuckled, "Will you bring that in to show us sometime?"

Jim smiled broadly, "Yes, absolutely."

"I notice Pam isn't here."

Jim knew the cameraman was probably doing a slow zoom-in as his smile disappeared. "Um, yeah, she quit before her trip. And I don't blame her, coming back to this office after four weeks in Italy would probably be a huge letdown."

"Do you know what she's up to now?"

Jim looked off at nothing in particular, acting as if he didn't know exactly where Pam was. "I've heard she's at Corporate, doing a marketing internship and working for Jan." Jim decided not to disclose the fact that over the last few weeks he's nearly strained his neck a dozen times trying to hear Pam on Michael's speaker phone.

"Have you talked to her since she left?"

"I, um…" Jim gazed past the interviewer out the conference room windows, specifically to where Dwight's desk met his. It seemed so long ago, and yet it was still so vivid: her fingers in his hair, her breath on his cheek, the taste of her lip gloss. Jim's eyes darted back to the camera and he needed a second to remember the question. "I haven't talked to her. I should though."

Before the interviewer could ask Jim to elaborate, the door squeaked opened and Michael was standing there, saying he needed to speak to Jim privately about an "urgent lady issue".

"Sorry to cut this short but Michael has urgent lady issues." Jim said with a smirk to the camera.

"That's … not what I meant," Michael said loudly to the camera as he and Jim walked into Michael's office.

Pam tapped the side of her leg as she stood at the end of the line of people new to the corporate office. The CFO himself, David Wallace, was a few feet in front of her, making an impromptu speech about the recent hires and how he was confident they would improve the company. He asked everyone to say their names and titles, starting from the opposite side from Pam. Each person has a more impressive title than the last, coordinator of this, executive of that. When it was Pam's turn, she gulped, her eyes scanning the conference room full of the most senior employees of Dunder Mifflin.

"I'm Pam Beesly," she started quietly. "I am a marketing intern and administrative professional." She felt ridiculous saying that fancy title for "assistant". Her eyes fell to the back of the conference room and she swore she saw Jim, trying to hold back a smile. She blinked and saw it was just some male employee who happened to be brown-haired.

"Okay, thank you, and welcome all of you to Dunder Mifflin," David exclaimed, leading the room in a round of soft applause. The other new employees started to gathered around the CFO to shake his hand and get in some compliments, but Pam hung back. She knew the "administrative professional" drill; her job was to make everything easier for the higher-ups, not necessary to stand out. She looked around the room and was getting ready to make a break for the sandwich bar when David Wallace appeared before her with an out-reached hand.

"Thanks for joining us today, Pam," David said with a handshake. Pam's thoughts traveled to a time Michael returned from a business practices seminar, raving about the "perfect handshake"; firm but not too firm, three shakes, maintain eye contact and smile politely. The Scranton branch proceeded to spend all afternoon in a "handshake workshop" which Pam didn't mind at all as she was partnered with Jim.

"Thanks for including me," Pam said, trying not to laugh as David executed a "perfect" handshake. He and Michael must have attended the same seminar. "I have to admit I was a little nervous being introduced with all these people."

David cocked his head to the side. "Why is that?" He seemed genuinely curious.

Pam was not prepared for this reaction. "Oh, just um, just because I'm only a part time assistant."

David laughed and spoke in a low tone, "Don't sell yourself short, Pam, I know being Jan's assistant is not for the faint of heart."

No, it is not, Pam thought, but she bit her tongue and smiled.

David put his hand on Pam's shoulder, "If you need anything you know where my office is." Pam couldn't tell if that was a sincere offer or an just an empty platitude but she smiled and thanked David. He turned and immediately was in a new conversation with another manager. Suddenly Pam felt very hungry and made her way to the food, loaded up a plate and purposefully stood in the corner opposite of Jan. On her assistant workdays, Pam felt like she never got through her lunch before Jan desperately needed something.

Pam was washing down her sandwich with some soda when she noticed a manager was next to her. Pam had seen the young female manager around the hallways, and would be lying if she said she wasn't envious of the manager's tan skin and straight shinny dark hair.

"These things are so lame, aren't they?" the woman asked in a slightly husky voice.

Pam looked down at her plastic soda cup, "They could at least spice it up with some alcohol."

The woman chuckled softly, "Somebody got felt up the last time they served alcohol, so…"

Pam smiled, "At my old office we had a 'party planning committee' and the head of it was this super judgmental woman, basically anything that was fun was a sin."

"Oh, God, we had one of those when I was in Stamford, Hannah, except she was an 'uber mom' and wanted everything to be wholesome," the manager said with an eye-roll. She then snapped her head to Pam, "Sorry, I should probably introduce myself, Karen Filippelli, divisional sales manager, or director, I'm actually not 100% sure. You're Pam, right?"

Pam nodded, "Yeah I spend half the week interning downstairs and the other half as Jan's assistant. I used to be the receptionist at Scranton."

"Ah, so, you've worked for the infamous Michael Scott." Karen said, her full lips curling into a smile.

"I have," Pam replied, amused that that was her biggest claim-to-fame in the corporate office.

"How much of the stories are true?" Karen asked.

"Um, some details get exaggerated, but probably about 85-percent true?"

Karen drew in her breath, "Yikes, how'd you ever survive?"

Pam gazed into her plastic cup, trying not to blush as she recalled just a few of the thousands of little expressive looks Jim shot at her for three years. "We were able to help each other cope." She looked back up at Karen, "Also, it may be hard to believe, but Michael's actions are usually out of love and friendship."

A suspicious look crossed Karen's face, "I suppose I'll take your word on that. Wednesday will be interesting."

"Oh yeah, Jan's asked me to come to that meeting, sounds like it's kind of important?"

Karen looked around to make sure no one was nearby, then took a step closer to Pam. "Well you didn't hear this from me, but they're going to axe a branch by the end of the year, and they've narrowed it down to Stamford or Scranton."

Pam tried not to sound too surprised. "Oh, so … do you know would happen to the people at the branch that gets closed down?"

Karen shrugged, "Nothing's been decided, but probably only a few will be transferred to the other branch. You might wanna wish your old boss good luck on Wednesday." She finished off her drink, "Well good talking to you Pam, I'll see you around."

"Yeah, definitely," Pam said with the biggest smile she could manage. As soon as Karen's back was turned, Pam's smile faded and she slightly shook her head. She had seen the sales numbers from Stamford and had heard Jan call their branch manager Josh "charismatic" and "promising". The Scranton branch didn't need luck to remain open, it needed a miracle.