Jim knew it was going to be one of those days when he pulled into the Dunder Mifflin parking lot and saw his car. The red convertible with the WL HUNG license plate. Todd Fucking Packer, Jim thought. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.

Pam was already at her desk when Jim walked in, and the look she gave him said she was feeling exactly the same way about their morning guest. Packer was currently in Michael's office, sounding off belligerently about something inconsequential. Belligerent. That word fit Todd Packer perfectly. Even when he was telling a story he thought was funny he still spoke as if he was a breath away from smacking someone. Jim still couldn't figure out how this guy made his living in sales. The only answer was that there were people out there who found Packer pleasant, and that wasn't something Jim could bear to think about.

When Packer left Michael's office, he immediately began to hurl insults at his favorite target, which was Jim. Jim started putting a little check mark on a post-it note every time Packer called him a fag, or a homo, or any other term which insinuated Jim had no interest in female anatomy. Jim knew that Packer was an asshole and was able to pretty much ignore the taunts. But while the check marks started to add up, Jim glanced over at Pam, and was taken aback by the look on her face.

Pam's head was bowed slightly, her eyes focusing on her computer screen. But the look on her face was unmistakeable to Jim. She was livid, and it was clear where her anger was stemming from. He kept watching her, and every time Packer made some stupid-ass comment to Jim, she practically flinched. At one point Jim saw her look over, and he could see that she was near tears. He knew if Packer noticed her reaction, she'd be playing right into his disgusting sweaty hands.

He sent her a short email. Hey, don't let the asshole get you down. :-)

She glanced over to Jim after reading it, nodding slightly. Shortly afterwards she got up from her desk, grabbed her coat and walked out. She was gone for less than ten minutes, and when she came back she looked a great deal less stressed.

Jim read the email she sent. Don't say I never did anything for you. He sent her a quizzical look but she only gave a blank look back in response. He'd have to try and talk to her once Packer was gone.

Thankfully Packer's reign of terror winded down at around 10am, and he and Michael left to go to 'an early lunch'. As soon as the two men walked out of the office, Jim was going to walk up to Pam's desk, but she had retreated to the bathroom before he could get up. A few minutes later a flush-faced Michael came hurrying back into the office.

"Are any of you members of Triple-A?" he asked.

"Why?" Angela asked.

"For some reason all of Todd's tires are flat. He's going to need a tow."

Jim turned his head and put his fist against his mouth to prevent himself from laughing outloud. He finally stood up and headed for the kitchen. He didn't think he'd be able to keep it together if Packer came back into the office. He was standing in front of the soda machine, still trying not to laugh when he saw Pam come out of the restroom.

He turned toward the door, and when she saw him she stopped. They looked at each other through the glass. He nodded knowingly, and she did the same back before continuing on to her desk.

He wasn't sure how to express what he was feeling at that moment, but one of the top contenders was pride. Pride and gratefulness. She'd always been his partner-in-crime; even since he'd been back she was still up for a joke or prank on a moment's notice. But this was the first time he'd seen her work alone. She was a force to reckoned with, that much he knew. She was Fancy New Beesly, and she'd acted out in his defense. It gave him a feeling of hope that made no sense and which he couldn't even explain. It reminded him of why he always knew how special she was.