A/N: Yay update! I always feel so accomplished when i update something. Nothing else to say, but, THE FINALE WAS AMAZING!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, though i'd take Jim Halpert in a heartbeat.

Enjoy!

Jims first real task as manager came in mid-may. The Stamford receptionist, Maureen, a sweet older woman who was know to bring in homemade cookies, was retiring. And Jim needed to hire a new one.

He knew he should get right on it: put out application ads, conduct interviews, etc. But it was getting close to the three-year mark of his departure from Scranton, and Jim didn't feel like doing much of anything but moping.

Besides, any mention of receptionists sent him into deep depression.

So, when Jan called only two days after Maureen's retirement announcement, he regarded it as an amazing stroke of luck.

The phone rang barely five minutes after he arrived at the office, and Maureen put him through, after telling him there was an oatmeal cookie waiting for him at her desk.

"Hello Jim." Said Jan, sounding much too brisk and awake for his liking. "I've received notice that your receptionist is retiring. Have you looked into finding a new one?"

Though he had been working with her for nearly six and a half years now, Jan's ability to get straight to the point still astounded Jim sometimes. Under the impression he was about to be punished, he managed to stutter out a lie.

"Oh, um, yeah, I've been, uh, I've been looking into it."

A sense of strange familiarity washed over him. Jim winced as he realized that by fibbing weakly to corporate over the phone, he was reminding himself of Michael.

"You have?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but Jan was already talking again.

"Well, if you haven't found anyone yet, I received a résumé at corporate yesterday. The person is looking for a receptionist job in one of our branches, and I think they would do…well…in Stamford. They seem to be quite qualified."

Jim breathed a huge sigh of relief, and then hoped she hadn't heard him.

"Oh, really? Well, uh, as a matter of fact I haven't found anyone yet, so yeah, that sounds like it would work fine. Perfect, actually."

"Good. When would be a good time for an interview?"

Though he was tempted to ask Jan to hire the person interview free, Jim really didn't want to sound any more like his ex-boss.

"How about…11 tomorrow?" He asked.

"Wonderful. She will be there. Good-bye Jim."

"Thanks very much, and good-bye Jan."

Jim set his phone down and leaned back in his chair. Shutting his eyes and linking his hands behind his head, he tried to relax. Though not having to find a person was a weight off his shoulders, he still felt exhausted. His life was passing by in an endless haze of work, and he felt no closer to his actual goal. Really, all he felt was old.

"Maybe the new receptionist will be stunning, and I can fall madly in love with her." He thought. "Hey, if that happens, I'll have a type!"

Smiling bitterly at his own mental joke, Jim rose and went to fetch his oatmeal cookie.

The next morning passed much to slowly for Jim. Though he wouldn't have admitted it, he was not looking forward to this interview, and just wanted to get it over with. Every question he had to ask reminded him of Pam, and every reminder of her hit him a little bit harder.

So he spent the time between nine and eleven alternating between doing work not due for three weeks, and pacing nervously.

By the time eleven rolled around, Jim was thinking of Pam so much he thought his head might explode.

"So much for distracting myself." He thought. A plan B was needed. In two sharp strides he crossed over to his desk and collapsed in his chair. For a moment, he just sat there, staring blankly into space. Then a tiny, slightly wistful smile came to his face, and he opened a game of spider solitaire. It had been a long time since he had last played his favorite computer game, and he hoped the gods of solitaire would forgive him enough to let him think of nothing. Or at least of things other than her.

Shockingly, it worked. His mind emptied, and his hand, which had been anxiously tapping, settled for twirling a pencil. Fifteen minutes passed, and he barely registered that the receptionist-hopeful was late. This was probably, he reasoned, the most relaxed he had been for a long while.

Then his phone rang, causing him to jump in surprise. "Alright, he thought, "Maybe you're not that relaxed." He picked up, and was greeted by Maureen.

"Mr. Halpert? The receptionist has arrived. She says she's sorry she's so late."

A little bit of his nervousness returned, and his pencil twirling became pencil tapping again.

"Send her right in.," he said.

Out at the front desk, a very confused woman was staring at the receptionist as she hung up the phone.

"Um, excuse me." She said, her eyes showing the slightest hint of fear. "Did you say Halpert?"

The receptionist smiled encouragingly at her.

"Yes. Mr. Halpert. His office is the last on the right." She gestured across the workspace, an orderly, quiet place. The woman, however, was not paying attention. Her hazel eyes had grown wide and had a glazed look to them, and one hand shot to her mouth, stifling a gasp.

"Is everything ok? Miss?" Maureen stood up and waved a hand in front of her face. "Are you feeling alright?"

The woman nodded slowly, pinned back hair bouncing.

"Yes." She whispered. "Yes, um, I will be. Which office was it?"

Maureen, still concerned, pointed. "Last on the right…there's no need to be nervous, he's a very nice man. A little quiet, maybe, but he-"

The woman waved her off, and then set off across the office, wringing her hands in distress.

"It sure is taking her a while." Thought Jim. Every second, his dread grew, though now he wasn't so sure why. All he knew was that he wanted this interview over with, and quickly.

His eyes flicked from the doorway to his computer screen, scanning over the questions he had prepared. Switching back to gazing at the door, his pencil suddenly slipped out of his fingers. It landed with a "thunk!" under his desk, and Jim let out a little groan. He leaned down and grasped at it…only to find he couldn't quite reach.

Officially exasperated now, Jim slid out of his chair and crawled under his desk. As he grabbed his errant writing utensil, he heard the door click open, then shut.

"Hello." He called out. "Please take a seat. I, um, I dropped my pencil."

"Great job making a first impression, Jim." He thought sarcastically. For a moment, there was no noise from the woman across the room. Then, when he was nearly done backpedaling out from underneath the desk, a small, shaky voice spoke.

"Jim?"

The amazing familiarity of the voice shocked him, and he sat bolt upright, smashing his head on the edge of the wood.

"Ow!" he yelped, rubbing his skull. But despite the fact that his head felt like it was on fire, and his world was spinning a bit, Jim was frantic to get out from under that damn desk. He knew that voice. Knew it better than anything in the universe.

With a burst of energy, Jim flipped back onto his heels and stood up, all in one semi-fluid motion.

Although he was really dizzy now, the woman standing in front of the door was in perfect focus.

Her curly brownish hair was pulled back messily, and her button-up shirt and knee-length skirt were both slightly rumpled. Her hands were clutched tightly over her mouth, tears gathered in her eyes, and here entire body seemed to be shaking. She was the most beautiful thing Jim had ever seen.

Somehow, the fireworks going off in his brain stopped long enough for Jim to choke out a single word; a question he already knew the answer to.

"Pam?"

Warning: I'm an awful sucker for reunion scenes. So if this felt too dramatic/fluffy for you, just wait till next chapter...nefarious giggle

Please review!

-Mel