A/N: For fun. And because I like The Office. Sorry if it's not that good. Feedback would be fantastic :)

His name is Jim Halpert.

He's a tree with legs. Six foot whatever, but his hair probably adds a whole inch. It's messy, and sometimes looks like a plant that just died. His clothes are unkempt, and it's clear that he doesn't sleep often. And he sells paper. What kind of guy sells paper for a living?

Oh, Dwight Shrute does.

Well, that's mighty encouraging.

He drinks entirely too much coffee, and is the biggest practical joker I know. He acts way too young for his age. His sarcasm is drier than Angela's skin.

In spite of this, I think I really, really like Jim Halpert.

I spend way too much time staring at him, and I think he's starting to notice. He needs more photocopies than Microsoft, and doesn't know where any of the restaurants in Scranton are. He thinks I'm the human MapQuest , or something. I think maybe he does it because it makes me feel awkward. Like when he smiles at me when I stare to long, or offers to lend me cheesy movies from the eighties.

Is it bad that I sort of like it? That sometimes, being around Jim is more comfortable than being around my own fiancée? I don't even know him that well, but he actually seems interested in things that I'm interested in. Like my drawings, and my aspirations to be something other than a receptionist in a paper company. We can just talk about these things, and Jim seems genuinely interested.

Occasionally, I feel like my brain is having an affair with Jim, because I can't talk to Roy about any of that. Our conversations consist of what's for dinner and how work went. I enjoy talking to Jim a lot more, and it scares me.

Worse, I think I stare at Jim more than just because he sits across from me. I think that I stare at Jim because I feel more than I should for him.

Jim offered me his jacket when the heater in the office broke last week. Jim brought me Chinese takeout when Michael said I had to go into work on Christmas Eve. Jim even called me to make sure I was okay when I got sick last month.

He sees past my red frizzy hair and covered up wardrobe. And sometimes, I feel like Roy just sees the girl he met eight years ago in English class.

But I know Jim is a good guy. He wouldn't fall for a girl with a fiancée. He is just being a friend to somebody who needs one.

"Hey, Pam?"

I look up and see Jim standing before me. Today, his shirt is light blue with a black tie. It looks like he cut his hair, and its chocolate color just barely grazes his eyes. His grin is slight and teasing, and I know he has something he is eager to say.

"Hi, Jim. How's the view up there?"

"Better than yours. Listen, I have a great idea. Can you get on IM in just a second?"

I'm hesitant, but intrigued. "Yeah, sure. What's this about?"

Jim smiles toothily. "Dwight. It's a master plan, Pamela Beesly, and I want you to be a part of it. It's a very exclusive offer."

I smirk at him. "All right, I'm in."

"Perfect. I now have an accomplice." Jim turns around and saunters back to his desk.

I sigh to myself. There were many things about Jim Halpert I was uncertain about, but one thing I knew for sure.

I liked him a lot more than I should.