Chapter One

The elevator doors slid shut as Jim pressed the button for Suite 200. He slid a thumb under the strap of his bag to adjust it and waited, while the uncomfortable butterflies fluttered in his stomach. It was acceptable to be nervous on the first day of a new job, he supposed.

The doors opened with a ding and he turned right, glancing at the large sign that read 'Dunder-Mifflin Inc, Paper Company'. He hesitated and sighed before opening the next door.

It wasn't a pretty sight, an office. It essentially involved adding plants and pictures and personal touches to a very artificial workplace in a futile attempt to make it more like home. Jim closed the door behind him with a small snap and turned to find the receptionist staring at him. Instantly, the butterflies in him rekindled, but for a different reason. Her eyes were large and her red-brown curly hair was held back in a ponytail. The hair was simple, she had little to no make-up, and she looked rather exasperated – but he'd never seen anyone so pretty. And when she gave a nervous smile, that sealed it for him: he had to get to know her.

'Hey,' she said timidly as Jim approached. He saw, or rather hoped, that her professionalism had cracked, even a little.

'Hey,' he said confidently, smiling back. 'Er – my name's –'

'Jim! Jim Halpert, right? Jimmy Jimbo Halpert, the new guy!'

Jim looked left to see a short man in a navy suit. He had a rather comical face, Jim thought. His black hair was slicked back with an excessive amount of gel and he had a rather long nose. His big eyes and maniacal grin gave off an air of extreme excitement. Many others in the office looked up, diverted. A couple of them smiled, but they looked more like grimaces to Jim, as though in pity.

'Welcome, welcome, Michael Scott, your boss,' he said. They shook hands. Jim stood there, frozen. 'Welcome to Dunder-Mifflin Scranton, my empire, the best paper company in the world. Ahhh …' He sighed and broke off, perhaps disheartened by Jim's obvious lack of mutual excitement. Jim glanced swiftly at the receptionist, who just shrugged, clearly biting back a grin. Michael looked from Jim to her.

'This is Pam-Pam-Pamalam, Sir Pamelot, Pamsterlicious –'

'Pam for short,' she said, and Jim grinned again. Her voice was as sweet as the candy on her desk. She extended a hand over her desk and Jim shook it gently. He couldn't help notice how soft her fingers were.

'Yes, Pam is our receptionist, the second-best looking person here after me, of course. In fact, Pam – would you mind showing Jim to his desk, get him settled in … I will be right back, I'm waiting on a call from Corporate. I will give you a tour of the office when I am done and dusted.' Michael clapped once and hurried back in his office.

Jim looked back to Pam, who had gotten to her feet. She was in a simple shirt and cardigan but, again, Jim couldn't tear his eyes from her.

'So what's it like being second-best looking after him?' asked Jim playfully. She laughed, displaying perfect white teeth.

'Ah yeah … that sucks,' she sighed sarcastically. 'Don't worry, you get used to him after a while. A long while,' she added. 'Anyway, your desk is right here.' She led him only a few feet into the office. Jim's desk, empty but for a modern, flat-screen computer, keyboard and mouse, was too close to Michael's study for comfort, and was adjoined to a second, cluttered desk. A strange-looking man sat at the desk, talking on the phone. He had large glasses, a small nose, and hair that was unfashionably parted down the middle like a pair of curtains. Jim saw Pam watching him.

'Enjoy this moment, because you're never going to go back to this time before you met your desk mate Dwight,' she said softly. Jim looked at her and knew, definitely, that he liked Pam. They waited together, watching Dwight on the phone.

'… offer a wider range of products, and we have more personal customer service – yes, yes I can understand – no, I assure you, we are the safe option, you wanna know why? Staples' paper has proven to cause five times as many paper cuts in the past year than any other – no, I'm not being ridiculous, I am merely stating a fact … fine – fine, get your paper from Staples, and I hope you and your entire company bleed to death with paper cuts, and – damn,' he said through clenched teeth, and slammed the phone down. Jim, whose eyes had progressively grown larger as Dwight's conversation had developed, looked at Pam, who was smiling into her hand.

Dwight looked up and slowly got to his feet.

'And who might you be?'

'Dwight, this is Jim – Jim Halpert. He's just starting. He's working in sales with you, so please be nice to him.'

Jim extended a hand, keeping a straight face. 'Nice to meet you, Dwight.'

Dwight looked at Jim's hand, then back to his face. The intensity of his gaze was rather unsettling.

'I do not shake hands with my inferiors,' he muttered. 'I am Assistant Regional Manager, your superior, and eternally greater than you. You will report to me, and me alone. You will not attempt to befriend Michael, he is too powerful for your acquaintance. On the other hand, welcome.' Dwight stared at Jim for a couple more seconds, perhaps looking for a sign of weakness, before sitting down.

'Wow,' muttered Jim.

'I'm so sorry,' whispered Pam.

Jim smiled. Between Pam, Michael and Dwight, maybe it wouldn't be so dull here after all.