"And then you get to know them and...and their face just sort of becomes them. Like their personality's written all over it. And they just turn into something so beautiful."

Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.

Each and every time Jim Halpert would spare a glance at the clock on the bleak wall in front of him, it seemed to show no evidence of time doing that little thing it's supposed to do- move forward. He had only been at Dunder Mifflin four days, and already he sensed a tiny nugget of doubt resting in his mind that seemed to grow a little more prominent every time his boss Michael did another Arnold Schwarzenneger impression. Tapping his desk in a monotonous rhythm with his complimentary ball point pen, he let out an exasperated sigh and, having had just about enough of staring at his Windows screensaver, glanced to his right. After catching a momentary glimpse of Pam Beesly, in her prim little shirt and her hair half-up-half-down like always, he found himself not at all inclined to look back to his desk...and he didn't. Not for a little while. That is, until her eyes glancing quickly up to meet his caused him to whip is head around and begin furiously mock-typing until he knew her gaze was no longer upon him.

Damn it Halpert, he thought.

You're a grown man.

Pam let out an almost incomprehensible sigh as she returned to her work- having once again tried and failed to interact with the guy who, only four days ago, had taken up the job at the desk just opposite her. She would happily admit that she had found Jim handsome from the moment he first walked into the office- but what she might not so readily confess was that there was a little something more to him. Something even she couldn't truly pinpoint...that made her want to talk to him. Even just for a minute. Maybe she was simply bored of the endlessly repetitive nature of her days here. Maybe it was the fact that on his first entering the office he gave her a modest, hesitant, but warming smile; a smile that seemed to make the dull pallor of the office brighten ever so slightly. Maybe it was the fact that most of her colleagues, some that she had known for years, had scarcely even acknowledged her as they had trudged into the Dunder Mifflin doors day after day. Things could get lonely for a receptionist with her own desk just a little too far from the mindless hum of office chatter to be a part of it. Pam could use a friend.

Jim knew full well that she was engaged. He had found out only minutes after entering the office, as Roy- the kind faced, slightly larger man from warehouse downstairs- had strolled casually to the reception desk and planted a rather aggressive kiss on Pam's lips, much to her obvious surprise. Not that it was any of Jim's business, but he was sure that the look of a fiancé having just been kissed by her intended was not the face gracing Pam at that moment. Not at all. It had only taken a little snooping to find out that they were engaged, and Jim had placed the slight knot that had deposited in his stomach as his not having eaten that morning. Of course Jim knew that he could probably bet money of the fact that he'd never skipped breakfast once in his life, but he didn't like to dwell on that. Still, it made him more than a little sad to see someone who seemed so lovely, any less than completely content. So, naturally, the daily appearance of Roy at the not-so-glistening office doors was enough to make his fists curl slightly, and he would find himself trying that little bit harder not to look up to his right. Every single time Roy left, Jim would see that Pam's usual, comfortable little smile had deflated slightly. He couldn't help but want to try and revive it.

So what if she was engaged...he could still talk to her, right? Of course he could. They could be friends.

That was, if he could only find it in himself to just get up and talk.

As Pam saw that the clock was miraculously nearing 12:30, she got up from her chair feeling the ever-present, ever so slight burden of the endless years of office work resting on her shoulders, and made her way to the kitchen area. She convinced herself she had imagined Jim's eyes following her path past his desk, and as she made her way back with her daily mixed berry yogurt she felt just as remarkably average as she did any other day. She was peeling off the lid when-

"Hey, uh, Pam? It's Pam isn't it? Um, I don't wanna be weird, but, uh, I just thought I'd let you know that that yoghurt's been expired for like, three days."

Pam looked up- there was Jim, leaning apprehensively on her desk, his hand poised mid-interruption and his cheeks a little flustered. She felt her face warm at the sight of him and at the sound of his kind, humble voice that felt so familiar. She was taken aback just enough to stall her reply, so he hastily added,

"I only know that 'cause, well, I won't lie to you, I was gonna eat it yesterday, but I put it back when I saw the date." He nervously ruffled his hair with his free hand and gave an apologetic grimace, before adding,

"I don't know why I put it back actually...that was- that was pretty stupid, I'm sorry-"

"Hey, it's cool! No one else in here would have even noticed that I was actually doing something other that typing so, um...thanks. Hands off my yoghurt in future though. Saving me from food poisoning doesn't get you off of that hook." Pam had no idea where this confidence was coming from. She was normally so passive, so subdued.

Jim smiled at her for a moment, as if something had just been revealed to him, before saying softly,

"Got it. Sorry you didn't get to enjoy your yoghurt."

"With counseling I think I'll come to get over it. But Thanks." She found her lips forming a smile.

With a soft chuckle, Jim turned to make his way back to his desk, before stopping abruptly and turning back to her.

"So, you're a mixed berry girl?"

Pam nodded.

"Oh, yeah. Most underrated of all the flavours. Vanilla just has too big an ego for me."

Jim smirked, gave one of those laughs that blow a little air out of your nose like a wisp of warmth and finally sat back in his seat, the smirk evolving to a smile which lingered on his lips for some time after he had returned to his duties.

Pam leant back in her chair, and she could still just about hear his gentle voice resonating in her head.

Her shoulders felt a little lighter.

Once again staring at his computer screen, Jim began to ask himself what he had been so worried about- talking to Pam, even about yoghurt, had felt like the easiest thing in the world. Experiencing the content satisfaction of having made a friend, he also felt glad, for the first time since his first day at Dunder Mifflin, for having taken this job. Looking up at her again, Pam looked ever so slightly different from before their conversation. A little more radiant.

At 3 o'clock, their eyes met and Jim noticed how her smile made him feel warm, like a glowing ember.

By 5 o'clock that evening, as he said his clumsy goodbye, Pam was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.