Hey, you, you're my constant companion. You always let me explain just what I'm sayin', and we've just begun.

- 311

"What's for lunch today?"

Phyllis looked over the edge of her monitor and smiled kindly at Stanley. Every day for the past fifteen years, her day had started with a question from him. They were the elder statesmen of Dunder Mifflin, the wise figures who had taken on a parental role in the office. As much as he tried to stay out of things, Stanley's caring side would slip through every once and awhile. Just last week, he had comforted a sobbing Kelly when she had been traumatized about the results of So You Think You Can Dance. When Phyllis had walked in on them in the break room, he had rolled his eyes and shrugged helplessly. He had a daughter; it was what fathers did.

"Turkey sandwich on rye with pretzels and a cookie," she answered. "Same as yesterday. We trading?"

"Yeah," he replied before looking back down at the spreadsheet. His wife was all over his diet this month, meaning that she packed his lunch full of raw vegetables. Phyllis didn't mind the lettuce and celery and often agreed to switch. She also sometimes packed extra cookies or a diet soda for him as a treat. It wasn't that he liked lying to his wife. He was just an adult. "Did you get the email from Dwight?"

Phyllis snorted and shook her head. "Yeah, ridiculous," she muttered. Andy looked up at the two of them hopefully, wanting to be included in the conversation. When Stanley caught on, he averted his gaze back toward his computer. "Like I am going to listen to him."

Stanley chuckled happily, his dark eyes sparkling. No matter what was going on or how everyone thought he felt, they were always on the same side. He figured that it came in handy whenever Andy decided that he wanted to impress Dwight or Jim. At least he always had one person in his corner, a partner in crime he could count on disagree with them for the sake of maintaining some semblance of fairness.

"I got some new leads from that Chamber group my wife has been meeting with. I thought I might give you a few of the names to generate some business," he offered without looking up from the keyboard. Phyllis had shared her list with last week after Bob Vance had gone through his contacts for her. "Just don't give any to Buckethead over there."

Phyllis glanced over her shoulder and glanced at Dwight. The last person she planned on helping was him. He was a poacher, forever looking for a way to snipe a minor client here and there. It didn't seem like much at the time but added up to quite a bit over time. "Got it," she agreed. "Say, did you see that Poor Richard's is having a wine tasting next week? I thought you might like to go."

Everyone in the office knew that Stanley enjoyed his nightly glass of red wine. It was one of the few things that got him through the day. "Thanks, I'll have to find out the details," he drawled slowly. He scanned his inbox and saw a few messages of relevant importance. Phyllis was always reminding him of little events and dates, proving to be the perfect version of a work wife. He didn't really dislike her as much as he sometimes let on. Phyllis was actually pretty good people.

"You're welcome," she said politely before starting her first round of phone calls for the day.

Some time later, Phyllis took a break and then returned to her desk with the day's newspaper. Without asking, she instantly removed the crossword page and slid it across her desk to Stanley. He nodded without missing a beat on the phone call, a silent way of thanking her like they did every day. Phyllis waved her had dismissively back before getting back to the messages waiting in her email. It wasn't some big deal, just another small routine thing they did.

An hour or so before lunch, Stanley brought Phyllis was he knew would be her last cup of coffee for the day. She always stopped before she ate her noon meal, and he typically would bring it to her when he went to the bathroom at 11. It was just another mundane detail that had been repeated every day for fifteen years as they sat across from each other. She glanced up at him with a smile and mouthed her thanks before refocusing on the customer complaint.

At exactly noon, Phyllis and Stanley switched over their phones to voicemail and disappeared into the break room to trade lunches. Stanley enjoyed Phyllis' cookies while Phyllis munched on carrot sticks. They talked about the television program Stanley had watched on public television, a new restaurant Phyllis had tried with Bob Vance, a class that Stanley's daughter was taking during her senior year of high school and Phyllis' next knitting project. There were comfortable lulls in the conversation, a certain quiet that comes with being totally at ease with a person after time. When lunch was over, they worked in perfect synchronicity to clear away the relics of their lunch, Phyllis washing their dishes while Stanley threw away the trash and wiped off the table.

As per usual, the next two hours were full of work before they took their last break of the day at the same time. Stanley bought a package of crackers and split them evenly between the two of them while they nibbled at the water cooler. They traded war stories or complained about someone in the office while ignoring the fact that Dwight was not-so-secretly listening in. Then, they would head back to their desks and work until a few minutes before five.

When the day finally ended and their computers had been put to sleep for the night, Stanley walked out with Phyllis without saying a word. "Another day down," he mumbled like always in the elevator on the way down. "Like always," she inevitably agreed as they arrived on the main floor. He waited until she was in her car and waved as she passed by on her way out of the parking lot, following behind her until they reached the main road. They had survived another day together, and Stanley felt certain they would live to survive another.