Author's note: Hey, this one actually IS longer! Wow! :D

A door creaked open, and Pam's head automatically jerked up. Michael was exiting the building, a small Indian man on his arm. Her boss raised his hands in celebration, and Pam smiled, exclaiming "We got Vikram!" The telemarketer muttered something incomprehensible before climbing into the backseat of Michael's small car. Pam slid into the passenger seat, and checked 4. Obtain "Dream Team" off her list, overdoing it a little for Michael's benefit. He smiled at her theatrics.

They rode in silence for a few minutes before Michael pulled into a parking lot and broadcasted that he had to pee. Pam rolled her eyes but stayed silent as she watched her boss run through the doors. She glanced to the top of the building and her breath hitched when she realized where they were. Idle Hour Lanes. She tried to convince herself that the fact Michael had chosen this parking lot of all parking lots was a coincidence, but after he had been inside for more than five minutes, she knew that he had secret, ulterior motives. She heard Vikram stir in the background, and his rough voice cracked through the silence in her head.

"He's taking a long time. Is it possible he's bowling? I mean, you know him better than I do."

"Yes," she sighed. "Yes, it's possible." But not probable. Not probable when you consider the alternative. Nevertheless, she wrapped her hand around the car door handle, and took a deep breath before opening it. "I'll be right back."

Pam wrapped her jacket tighter around her body as each step brought her closer to the bowling alley. She wasn't sure if she was cold or just nervous. "It's possible," she muttered to herself before opening the door. The camera crew trailed behind her, obviously straining to hear her rambling whispers. But she kept quiet. She took a step into the warm bowling alley, taking a deep breath full of smoke and alcohol. Immediately, Michael's boisterous laugh was heard a few feet away. Pam could barely hear an annoyed response following Michael's comment. She took another deep breath before glancing at the camera and heading in their direction.

"Michael! What's going on!?"

"Oh, Pam! Pamaloo! Pam-a-lam-a-ding-dong!" he shouted back, eyes twinkling. "You remember Ryan."

"Hey," she greeted without looking away from her boss's face. She raised her hand slightly as a wave to echo her statement.

"Hey you," the young man replied. She blushed a little, but regained her composure and pulled Michael away from the front desk. "Ugh, Michael! Why'd you bring the cameras?" he complained before they were out of earshot.

"Michael, this is not on the list," she whined, pulling the notebook out of her purse for emphasis.

"Um, yeah it is."

"Michael, no it's…" she trailed off, looking down her list. Written in unfamiliar handwriting was 5. Get Ry Ry! "When did you add this to the list!? We weren't going to hire Ryan. Remember? We agreed on Vikram. Ryan was nowhere in our plans this morning."

Michael sighed loudly, causing Ryan to noticeably look up at the two of them. Even louder, Michael shouted, "God, Pam! What do you have against Ryan?" Pam's eyes grew wide as she glanced over to where her former coworker stood. He met her eyes for a moment before shifting his gaze to the floor, his face growing redder by the second. She closed her eyes in regret, and turned back toward Michael.

"Nothing, Michael. Ryan's fine. Sorry." It was barely a whisper. Miraculously, Michael heard her and spun around to meet his protégé.

"Ryan, just out of curiosity, how much to you get paid here?"

"Sixty thousand dollars a year," he replied, making sure not to look at either of them in the eye.

"Really?" she found her voice. This was the first time she had addressed him directly in months. She never expected it to be about something so innocent as his salary. She didn't know how she felt about that. "You get paid by the year at the bowling alley?"

His eyes met hers, smoldering in his gaze. "What do you make, secretary?" To anyone else, his question would seem completely harmless. And the secretary comment would probably go unnoticed. But the word was more meaningful to Pam than anything she had heard in a long time. Her mind started to flash back to the first moment Ryan had used the nickname, but she willed herself away from it. Too hard to relive. She snapped back to reality and realized that Ryan was still staring into her eyes. She dropped his gaze quickly.

"Get back to work, shoe bitch!" some guy called from behind. Ryan sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Michael, I told you. I'm really busy. If this little reunion is over, could you guys please--"

He was cut off by Michael's "business voice" and one simple question. "How would you like to come work for the Michael Scott Paper Company?" Pam sighed beside him. Before responding, Ryan looked at Pam for the okay. She shrugged before crossing her arms and glancing toward the cameras, an apathetic look on her face. She barely heard his comment before she turned to leave.

"What size shoes are you guys?" he asked, jumping over the desk to look at their feet.

"Uh, nine?" Michael replied. It almost sounded like a question.

"What are those, a men's ten?" Ryan asked, looking at her feet. He jumped down from the counter and turned to the shoe rack, grabbing random pairs. She hardly had time to mutter a no before he turned back to wink at her. "Just kidding. I remember your shoe size." Suddenly, Ryan was sprinting out of the building, and she turned to Michael with questions swimming in her eyes. However, Michael was headed for the door as well. She stood in silence for a few minutes, before racing after them.

"He's stealing the shoes, he's stealing the shoes!" Michael shouted, squealing like a child on Christmas morning.

"Sorry," she called out to no one in particular. When she finally exited the building, Ryan was asking (more like shouting) Michael where his car was. Michael pointed to the only car in the parking lot, and all three scampered toward it. Slamming the doors shut, Michael peeled out of the parking lot like their lives depended on it. Pam was trying to catch her breath as she looked at the people surrounding her. Michael was still giggling like a six-year-old, and Vikram simply stared out the window like he didn't notice anything strange going on. She was too nervous to look back for Ryan's reaction.

He could be looking one of two ways, and both would be strange for her to see. It would be weird to look back and see him sitting so calmly in a car with her, after months of hardly any contact. If he would just be so unfazed by her presence and act like nothing at all had happened between them. That would be too much. It would also be weird, however, if he sat there, jittery and nervous like she was. Ryan had never been one to show his emotions on his sleeve, and if he was displaying his discomfort for all the world to see right now, it might be too much as well. Pam didn't know which look would make her more upset, so she simply didn't turn around. She closed her eyes and let the soft sounds of Michael's radio wash away her thoughts. Ryan muttered something about his recent trip to Thailand, but she ignored it the best she could. Soon his voice was just a soft murmur playing in the back of her mind. She was used to that. His voice was always running through her mind.