Paper Thin (Jim Halpert/The Office Fanfiction)

Chapter One

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I sit in my car, frantically trying to grab everything I need for my first day.

Okay. Focus Rachel. Pens? Check. Notebook? Check. Lunch? Check. Keys? Check. Wallet? Check. Okay let's do this.

I am extremely nervous. It's my first day at Dunder Mifflin Paper Company, located in Scranton, PA. I know that I am perfectly right for the job, but I'm nervous because my first visit to Dunder Mifflin was...interesting.

3 Days Earlier

"So, you are the sole applicant for a job in Dunder Mifflin Scranton's sales department." Michael Scott gives me a blank stare for about 10 whole seconds. Wait, was that supposed to be a question?

"Uh, wow. That's hard to believe. Ya know, since I've heard so many great things about your office and your management." That was a lie. I'd never heard of this place, or Michael Scott, before I saw an ad in the paper. I know it's pathetic to kiss up to your boss, but I already put down a deposit on an apartment here in Scranton. I really want the job.

"Thank you, thank you," says Michael in a posh accent, slowly making a bow. This comes off odd because Michael is sitting down. I just look at him, smiling. Michael is an amusing man. His medium height and build, somewhat attractive face, long narrow nose and business professional attire are not what amuse me. I've never been to a job interview with a man who has toys, yes toys, all over his desk.

Michael looks over my resume for a few minutes, but it's obvious he's not actually reading it. His brown eyes scan the page in quick, uniform lines, far too fast to be actually comprehending the typed letters. He nods, makes affirming sounds, and puts it down. After a bit of silence, and awkward stares that I guess I'll have to get used to, he says, "Well okay then, Rachel. You are hired." Something that I have noticed about Michael Scott is that he likes to enunciate certain words of a sentence. He also is a connoisseur of kind-of-funny foreign accents.

"Wow, thank you Mr. Scott, that's very kind of you," I say, standing to my feet and smoothing out my dress pants. I give his hand a shake and he opens the door for me to head back out of his office. As I'm walking out, all of the eyes in the tiny office are on me. Strange. Is my top unbuttoned? I check it quickly.

"Attention everybody, this is Rachel O'Neal, our newest member of the sales team, effective immediately!" says Michael with gusto.

"Uh...Michael? It's 4:55," says a short hispanic man from the back. I glance quickly at the clock. How long was I sitting in that bland grey chair in front Michael's desk?

"Effective Monday then!" screams Michael, "and I hope you boys will enjoy a little friendly competition. Can't let yourself get beat by a girl. No, I mean...not that just because you're a girl - I mean - woman..."

I cut him off to save him from his misery, "Dont worry about it Mr. Scott." Michael gives me a small, formal bow and walks back in the direction of his office, running right into a large plant by the door. He stumbles for a minute, huffs, then slams his door.

"Don't worry about Michael. Female energy makes him...well...stupid," says someone just a few feet from me. I turn a little, too flustered from my odd interview to register his face quite yet.

"You're stupid," the man across from him says/coughs. Through my haze, I notice mustard yellow fabric and large glasses.

"Are you getting a cold? Cause if you are, I'll just have to.." the first man reaches into his desk and swiftly brings up a can of what can only be some sort of disinfectant spray. He sprays the canister for at least 30 seconds while his desk neighbor coughs, for real this time.