Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to The Office. NBC does, and I am not affiliated with them in any way.

CHAPTER FOUR

A receptionist for an office supply firm. When Pam had (reluctantly) pictured herself in this job, she had seen…paperclips. Lots of paperclips, and post-it notes. Middle-aged paper pushers. Hours of spacing out and watching the clock. She had not anticipated straining to suppress giggles while watching an office supply Mussolini locked in a battle of wits with a tall, lanky, charming Bart Simpson.

Perhaps Bart Simpson was not a fair comparison. Jim did have (marginally) better hair. And he seemed to have a good heart. Judging from her brief interaction with Dwight, Pam guessed that he deserved whatever hardship Jim was currently attempting to deny responsibility for.

“Jim, I know you did this. Every time I type my name, it says ‘daipers.’”

“That’s ridiculous. Are you sure you’re spelling it right?”

“D-W-I-G-H-T!” Dwight pounded each letter on the keyboard, then turned the screen to show the word DAIPERS spelled out in 24 point font. Pam stifled another giggle as Jim brought a hand to his mouth to cover a mischievous smile. He somehow maintained the innocent look in his eyes; Pam was impressed with his skill.

By now, other people were filtering into the office. Most gave Pam a slight smile or a quiet hello. “Oh yeah, I’m actually starting a job today,” she thought. This wasn’t the first time in her life that Pam had gotten caught up scrutinizing people, noting little expressions and using them to imagine all the layers of their personalities. In school, she often got in trouble for ignoring lectures and instead sketching her teachers and classmates in her notebooks. She hadn’t caught herself studying people like that in a long time…years, in fact. But in ten minutes this morning, she had already caught a dozen looks on Jim’s expressive face that she would have liked to sketch. Pam chalked it up to a last attempt by the artist in her to be heard before she got bogged down by this job.

Jim and Dwight continued to bicker. The other workers took no notice as they filed by, leading Pam to believe that this was a common occurrence.

“Wow, Daipers – I mean Dwight. That problem seems pretty serious. Maybe you should call IT Support.”

“Maybe I should call Michael and have you fired.”

“Hmm maybe. But I think you’re the one that will be fired if you turn in a sales report that says ‘Daipers Schrute’ all over it.”

Jim turned and focused intently on his computer screen as if confident that the reminder about the sales report would silence Dwight. It did. Dwight grunted in frustration and picked up his phone, presumably dialing IT Support. He then turned his chair away from Jim, crossed his arms, and starting bouncing his knee up and down rapidly, clearly agitated. Pam noticed the middle-aged, kind-eyed, bespectacled woman behind Dwight exchange a smirk with Jim, confirming Pam’s impression that Jim was not the enemy in this scenario.

Pam was glad that her initial impression of Jim had not been wrong after having joked with him so easily. When she thought about it, she was actually shocked that she had spoken so comfortably with a perfect stranger. She tended to keep to herself around new people, so much so that she really hadn’t made any new friends since high school. Specifically, since she had started seeing Roy. As their relationship had become more serious, she had become less social, eventually paring her circle down to just a few close female friends. Now that she lived in Scranton, she barely even spoke to those girlfriends. She certainly didn’t regularly converse with guys outside her family or Roy’s circle of friends. She knew Roy wouldn’t accept her socializing alone with other guys outside of school. She wasn’t exactly fond of most of Roy’s friends, meaning that she rarely spoke to any men besides Roy and her father. That is why her easy banter with Jim, however brief, was really a surprise. She wondered what had made her feel so comfortable and playful with him…perhaps it was because she had apparently caught him in a somewhat embarrassing moment. Or maybe her nerves were just making her act strangely. But even though it had been very out of the ordinary for Pam to be forward, it had felt good. Different and good.

The clock now read 9:05. Every desk in the room was occupied, but the office to Pam’s left remained dark and empty. She wondered if anyone was scheduled to come train her, or if she would just have to wait for the manager to arrive. For the moment she just desperately hoped the phone wouldn’t ring. She did turn on her computer, just to occupy herself. She had located Freecell and Minesweeper when she heard Dwight slam down his phone and address Jim in a vehement whisper.

“IT Support’s lines are all busy, but I know you are behind this –“

“I’m tying up IT Support’s phone lines?”

“ – you are trying to sabotage me by making it impossible for me to finish my sales report. This is just like when Saruman betrayed his fellow wizard Gandalf and tried to turn him over to the Dark Lord Sauron.”

“Okay, Harry Potter, settle down. Why don’t you just use my computer to finish your sales report, and I get on the phone with IT Support to fix your computer.” Jim rose and gestured for Dwight to take his seat. Dwight eyed him suspiciously, but stood, scoffing, “Idiot. Saruman and Gandalf are from Lord of the Rings, not Harry Potter.”

“My God, what an embarrassing mistake,” Jim said, turning to face Pam as he once again took a seat at Dwight’s desk. Their eyes met and Pam bashfully turned back to her screen. In her periphery she could tell Jim was smiling. He picked up Dwight’s phone and, in a few minutes, began speaking as if taking instructions. But as he started to work at fixing Dwight’s computer, saying, “Yes…okay…” into the phone at intervals, Pam looked down at the phone system and saw that the extension labeled “Schrute” was not lit up. She laughed silently, then heard the front door open, and a loud, piercing voice said, “Hey, laughing already? Someone must be talking about me!”

Michael Scott had arrived.

* * * *

Knowing that the prank had run its course, Jim righted Dwight’s computer, pretending to talk to IT Support just to make it look good. On another more typically boring day, Jim might have dragged it on all day, but he didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Pam. The previous receptionist, a 70-year-old name Ruth, had either been too deaf or simply too oblivious to take notice of Jim and Dwight’s spats, but Pam was proving to be an attentive and generous audience, which had Jim feeling happy to be at work for the first time in years. It was nice to know that someone over the age of ten found Jim’s sense of humor amusing. It was also nice, he added almost subconsciously, how Pam’s laugh tumbled out like bird’s song, and her smile shone brightly even from across the room.

“Geez, Halpert, pull yourself together. You just met this girl,” he thought. “You don’t know her at all.” But he smiled at the thought that he would have all day, every work day to start getting to know her.

He continued musing on what future pranks he could use to hear that laugh again, even while still cleaning up his previous prank, when he was pulled from his reverie by Michael’s noisy entrance.

“Oh please Michael, do not scare her away,” Jim begged silently, seeing the stunned look on Pam’s face as Michael greeted her.

“Woweeee aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! HUH! Foxy lady! Our last receptionist was more like…ugh. An ox. Oxey lady. In orthopedic shoes. Not that she wasn’t – I mean ox as in hard working. She was a very sweet woman. And a great receptionist. She definitely left some big shoes for you to fill…big, ugly shoes.”

Jim could practically see the wheels in Pam’s brain turning, trying to process the shocking onslaught that was Michael Scott. Jim admired how calm and warm her response managed to sound.

“Well, I’ll try my best, Mr. Scott. My name is Pam Beesly, by the way.”

“Ooh, ‘Mr. Scott.’ Submissive. Kinky!”

Pam’s eyes widened comically as Michael laughed at his own “joke.”

“As you can tell, I am very relaxed. More about making you laugh than cracking the whip. Whoa, that’s what she said!”

Pam nodded, emitting a sound that could be interpreted as either a laugh or a dry heave. Jim, having heard her lovely laugh, knew that it was the latter.

“But, seriously Pam, I’m your boss-slash-friend. Call me Michael. SLASH entertainer. So call me…Monty Python! ‘No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!’”

Jim wondered, as he had dozens of times before, if Michael thought Monty Python was a person.

Pam cleared her throat. “Okay, Michael, um, thanks. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Okay, Pam, why don’t you grab a legal pad and a pencil to take some notes, and I’ll start showing you the ropes here.” Michael launched into an explanation of the phone system, then started showing Pam around the office, introducing her first to Kevin, Oscar, Tom and Angela in accounting. Jim saw Pam greet them shyly, clutching the legal pad to her chest and looking down. Jim felt another odd urge to go to her, to place his fingers under her chin and raise her head, to make her smile that brilliant smile again…

“Finished. You may vacate my desk now,” Dwight announced.

Jim started at the sound of Dwight’s voice. “Um, yeah, great,” he mumbled, returning to his desk. He looked down and noticed that Dwight had apparently arranged all of Jim’s things at right angles while sitting there.

Jim figured that the novelty of a new receptionist was no excuse to procrastinate for the entire morning. He pulled up his client list for the day and made his first call. As he finished up about ten minutes later, Michael and Pam were finishing up greeting Phyllis and Stanley. They turned towards Jim and Dwight, and Pam gave Michael an exhausted sideways glance. Jim’s heart went out to her – he remembered feeling like he’d just babysat five toddlers after he first met Michael.

“And finally, Pam, Spam, wonderful Pam, we come to our two young studs. This is Dwight – “

“Assistant Regional Manager – “

Assistant TO THE Regional Manager, Dwight Schrute,” Michael corrected.

“Yes, Dwight already introduced himself to me as Assistant Regional Manager,” Pam said quietly, glancing over at Jim. He mouthed “I’m sorry,” gesturing to Michael and Dwight. Pam blushed and looked down quickly to hide her smile.

“Dwight is a very loyal worker, and our top salesman,” Michael said. Dwight beamed, looking up at Michael like an obedient dog awaiting a treat. “And, he’s a great, big…dork. Seriously, Star Wars, Star Trek, Stargate, you name it…Star Search! Ed McMahon. ‘Heighooooo!’” Michael cackled.

Dwight’s smile vanished. Michael continued to laugh, saying, “’Great shtuff, wonderful shtuff.’”

Jim cleared his throat pointedly.

“Ah yes, and this here is Slim Jim, Jimmy Crack Corn, Hal-Pert Plus!” Michael chirped.

“Yeah, just Jim is good, Mike.”

“Hello again, Jim,” Pam chimed in.

“Yeah, so Jim is your neighbor here,” Michael said.

“But just so you know Pam, even though we sit next to each other, you’re not allowed to copy off of me. Eyes on your own paper, please,” Jim said. He immediately regretted his stupid joke, knowing that his desire to charm her was getting the best of him. “Keep going on like this and you’ll be Michael,” he thought.

Luckily, and perhaps out of politeness, Pam laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind, Jim.”

Michael clapped his hands together. “So, I think this just about wraps up orientation. Just follow me to my office for one last piece of business, and then you can get back to your desk,” he said, leading Pam into his office. She gave Jim a slight nod and followed Michael.

Another ten minutes passed. Jim made another sales call, hearing the muffled sounds of Michael singing to the tune of Billy Joel's "Piano Man" (“Give us a ream, you’re the Paper Man!”) and blowing his train whistle from behind the office door. Soon Michael and Pam emerged once again.

“Alright, now, at some time today you just need to go back to the annex and fill out some HR paperwork with Toby…blech. I apologize in advance for Toby. He’s a creep. Aside from that, and those faxes I gave you, all you need to do is just man the phones at your desk. Now I hope you can get over there! I hope your walk hasn’t become too silly!” Michael said the last two sentences in what he probably thought was a British accent, but to Jim it sounded more Australian.

“I think I’ll be fine. Thanks,” Pam said. She walked to her desk (in a very normal, non –silly walk), dropped her legal pad, and sat down. Jim watched her out of the corner of his eye. She sat back for a moment with her eyes closed, took a deep breath, and then looked at the phone as if it might explode at any moment. It rang. Jim saw her flinch, and then she seemed to brace herself before she picked up the receiver.

“Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam,” she said in a small, shaky voice.

“Hey, Pam, it’s Jim.”

“Oh…hi!” she said, giving him a partly confused, partly relieved look over the top of her desk.

“I just thought I’d give you a little practice call.”

“Oh thanks! Hey, can I do a practice transfer for you? Who would you like to talk to…Dwight?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No no no,” Jim said, looking over at her with wide eyes. “I guess you could transfer me over to Toby. I can warn him that Michael has already tried to indoctrinate you against him.”

“Okay, transferring you to Toby…” Pam said, fumbling with some buttons. “Um...or not. Okay, could you come over here and show me how to transfer calls again?”

Jim hung up his phone, shaking his head at Pam with an expression of exaggerated disappointment. He leaned over her desk and showed her the proper buttons to press. He couldn’t help but see the legal pad lying next to the phone. The top half of the page was filled with notes in very pretty script. The bottom half of the page contained a sketch of Michael.

The sketch was rough, just capturing Michael’s broad features, but Jim was instantly struck by the resemblance. Pam had drawn him with a big, goofy grin, but she had managed to convey a loneliness in his eyes. Jim was amazed a both the skill and insight of the drawing; not many people picked up on the fact that Michael acted so ridiculous not just to get attention, but to try to get affection and friendship. Jim knew this deep down, even though he often gave Michael a hard time.

“You drew this?” Jim asked, looking Pam directly in the eyes.