"So," Jim said with a leading tone as he leaned on Pam's desk and fished his fingers through the jelly bean dispenser. She snapped her head up to look at him, already intrigued. "Guess what I just overhead."

"Uhhh," Pam replied, her mind already whirring with possibilities. "The recipe for Phyllis's chicken soup? Where Creed keeps the bodies?" she giggled. "Oh, oh. No, I know. What Angela and her cat are dressing up as for Halloween this year." 

"Even better," he said, popping a jellybean into his mouth. "What's the date on Thursday?"

Pam looked down and picked up her small desk calendar. Her eyes flicked over the numbered grid in concentration. "The second of February," she said with a shrug, looking back up to Jim.

"Which is?" Jim said, his head bobbing around with a smile on his face. 

"I don't know," Pam replied, mimicking Jim's movements and smile.

"It's Groundhog Day," he said with an even bigger smile.

"And?" 

"And I heard Michael making a reservation at the Cherry Street Inn," he said, raising an eyebrow. 

"Ok?" she said slowly. 

"Beesly, come on," he said, his head cocked to the side, leaning further over Pam's desk. "Groundhog Day." 

"I know, you just said that," she replied with a shake of her head and scrunched up eyebrows. 

"The movie, Pam. That's where Phil Connors stays in the movie," Jim deadpanned. Pam's eyes grew wide. "He made a reservation at the same bed and breakfast!" he exclaimed. 

"It's a real place?" 

"Apparently so!" He stood back and grinned. "This is it, he's going for his ‘private celebration'," Jim said with air quotes.  

"Wow!" she giggled, putting her hands over her mouth. "Oh my god, this is amazing!" 

"We have to go!" Jim laughed, joining in with Pam's hysterics.

"What?" she said, sitting up a little straighter, her face suddenly serious. 

"Let's go to Punxsutawney, follow Michael, and find out how he celebrates Groundhog Day!" he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

"We can't! I mean, how would that even work? Isn't it like a 4 hour drive from here? And how do we even know when he's going and getting there? And what about work?" Pam was talking so fast Jim could barely keep up.

"Let's plan it at lunch ok?" he said, nonchalantly slipping his fingers back into the jellybeans and grabbing one more. 

"Ok," she agreed quietly as she watched Jim smile and head back to his desk.

-- 

They met in the breakroom for an early lunch and when Pam pushed open the door, Jim was already sitting at the table eating his ham and cheese sandwich. He raised his eyebrows with a small smile and motioned for her to come and sit next to him. 

"Ok, so what are you thinking?" Pam asked as she sat down and began to unwrap her sandwich.

"We know he always takes the day off before Groundhog Day as well as the main day, right?" he said, and Pam nodded. "So we just make sure we get to his condo early and then follow him to Punxsutawney."  

"Ok," Pam said slowly as she picked at her crust.

"And we know where he's staying, so we can try book some rooms and stay there too. We might need some disguises though," he added, causing Pam to giggle. "What?" he laughed looking at her.

"I'm just imagining you in sunglasses and a fake moustache, maybe an inspector's hat and mac too," she managed to get out between belly laughing. 

"We don't want to get caught," he said with a roll of his eyes. There was silence for a moment as he watched her calm herself down and wipe the tears away from her eyes. He couldn't stop staring, she looked so beautiful laughing. "So, uh," he eventually said, "we'll need to take some time off. I was thinking, why don't you take some vacation days and I'll take sick leave, then no one will know," he suggested. He watched her ponder his idea and could see the cogs in her head whirring. "Do you, um, would Roy be ok with you going away for a few days?"

"My mom's up in Pittsburgh, I can say I'm going to visit her and my dad," she shrugged. "He wouldn't ever find out either way and I can always tell my mom what we're really doing."

"You'd tell her?" he asked, a little surprised.

"Oh yeah," she giggled. "I tell my mom about all of your pranks. It's the only interesting thing that goes on in my life." 

Jim tried to hide his smile with a bite of his sandwich. "So we're doing this?" he asked as he swallowed.

"We're doing this," she smiled back. "I guess we need to book a hotel or something?" 

"I'll call a couple of places and see if they've got any rooms. And I'll try and get some of Michael's plans out of him." 

"How are you gonna do that? she asked 

"Beesly, have some faith in me, come on," he grinned, before taking another bite. 

-- 

Jim walked into the kitchen later that afternoon grinning like a madman. Pam eyed him suspiciously as she stirred her tea. "Why do you look so smug?"

"Not only did I book us two rooms at the Cherry Street Inn, I also know exactly when Michael is leaving tomorrow," he said with a raised eyebrow. 

"How?" she exclaimed, a smile tugging on her lips. 

"I called the bed and breakfast and by some miracle the lady literally just had two rooms cancelled. She said that never happens as the rooms get booked up months before for Groundhog Day. Apparently she hung up their call and then answered mine," he explained as he reached for a mug. 

"Nice work," Pam grinned.

"And I just casually asked Michael if he wanted me to collect his mail while he was away," Jim continued. Pam screwed up her eyebrows in confusion. "I told him I knew it was coming up to Groundhog Day, that he'd probably be away for a while, and did he want me to go check on his place while he was away. Water his plants, collect his mail. That kind of thing," he explained as he made his coffee.

"You're a genius!"

"I know," he chuckled. "He told me he's only taking half a personal day tomorrow, something about not enough days for magic camp too? So he'll give me the keys before he leaves the office. Buuuut, I'm going to start getting sick around ten-ten thirty and he'll have to give his keys to Dwight instead." 

"Nice," she grinned. 

"I'll swing by my parents and pick up my dad's car, so Michael doesn't recognise it, and then come back to the office to pick you up and then we can follow him. So make sure you put in for half a vacation day tomorrow and leave a little before Michael does."

"Wow, you really do have this all figured out don't you?" Pam smiled, her tongue poking through her teeth.

Her beaming face made Jim blush slightly and he swallowed hard to try and suppress it. "Something like that," he crooked, before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Ok, people," Michael shouted as he walked out into the bullpen, clapping his hands together. "Party time!"

"What are you talking about?" Angela asked as she stood up from her desk. "What party?"

"Kelly's birthday. I really shouldn't have to be telling you this Angela. You're the head of the Party Planning Committee," he said, visibly angered. 

"Her birthday isn't until Saturday. We're having her party on Friday afternoon. That's when the cake is ordered for," she replied, exasperated. 

"But I'm leaving at 1 o'clock Angela," Michael said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And?" 

"And we need to have the party now before I leave because I don't want to miss it," he shouted, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Michael, it's 10am. There's no way I can just throw a party together in the next two hours. Not to mention the fact that Kelly isn't even here today," she spat. 

"Well," Michael began, but stopped. "Fine. Have your stupid party on Friday without me." He looked down and muttered to the ground.

"Wait. You're not coming back for the rest of the week?" Kevin asked slowly. 

Michael just smiled sadly at Kevin with slightly watery eyes. "I'm gonna miss you Kevin." He looked around at the whole office who had stopped working to watch the shouting match between himself and Angela. "I'm gonna miss you all so much."

"It's only three days, Michael," Kevin stated.

"Maybe," Michael began to say but was cut off by Jim opening the door from the kitchen. 

"Are you sure you're ok Jim," Pam said loudly, following him out of the kitchen. "It sounded like you were throwing up in there."

"Yeah, I'm not feeling so hot," Jim replied, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. He walked over to his desk and Michael jumped backwards into his office from where he had been standing behind Jim's chair. 

"Nope, nope, nope, don't want to be sick forev...," he shouted as he slammed the door. 

Jim and Pam stood there looking at each other as everyone else resumed their work. "Wonder what that was about," Jim asked, looking through the open blinds into Michael's office. He could see Michael spraying Lysol around himself, which caused him to have a coughing fit.

Pam shrugged, raising her eyebrows and walked to her desk. "So you gonna head off soon?" she asked Jim quietly as she sat down and looked up at him.  

"Yeah," he whispered, leaning over her desk. "I'll be back at noon. Think you can sneak out then?" Pam nodded with a smile. "My dad's car is a blue Honda Civic. I'll park around the corner, right by the repair shop. So meet me there, ok?" 

"Sounds good," she smiled. 

Jim suddenly started coughing and started making retching noises. He winked at Pam, causing her to smile warmly, and briskly walked over to his waste paper basket. He leaned over it and made more vomiting noises.

Dwight pushed himself back from his desk and jumped out of his chair. "Jim, you need to leave right now," he shouted. "No one here wants you infecting them with your disease."

"I'm not diseased, Dwight," Jim said with a roll of his eyes as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"Please leave," Dwight repeated. 

"He's right Jim," Phyllis chipped in. "We don't want to get sick." 

"Alright," Jim said, grabbing his messenger bag from the back of his chair. "If you guys really think I should go home, I guess I will." He walked over to the coat stand and took his jacket down. "I guess I'll see you all tomorrow," he said loudly to the office. 

"You should stay away for at least 48 hours if you have a vomiting bug," Angela piped up. 

"If you say so Angela," Jim replied with a salute. "See you later Beesly," he smiled, rapping his knuckles on her desk. 

Pam tried to hide her smile as she watched him leave. After a few minutes, she got up and made her way over to Michael's office. She gently knocked on the door and waited for Michael to say ‘come in', before entering. She was greeted with Michael sitting at his desk, with one hand covering his mouth while the other covered his nose. "What are you doing?" she asked. 

"I don't want Jim getting me sick," came his muffled reply.

"Uh, Jim's gone home," she replied, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb. 

"What!" Michael exclaimed, dropping his hands. "He didn't even say goodbye!" 

"Well, you'd locked yourself in here and were spraying..." Pam trailed off as Michael began talking over her. 

"But I never got to tell him how much he means to me." 

"Uh, I'm sure you can tell him that on Monday," she said, knitting her eyebrows together. "Anyway, I'm leaving around noon today, so I just wanted to check if you needed anything before I go?" 

"Ugh, who is going to water my yucca plant now?" Michael whined, not listening to Pam. 

"I'll do it Michael," Dwight shouted, suddenly rushing into Michael's office. He held out his hand expectantly. "Give me your keys. I will water your plants. And collect your mail. I will stay at your condo and protect it."  

"Mmmm," Michael murmured, pressing his lips together. He looked up at Dwight standing there with his hand still open in the air. "Ok fine," he relented. "But don't sleep in my bed." He took his keys from his pocket and handed them to Dwight. 

"I will sleep on your couch," Dwight replied, slipping the keys onto his own keyring. 

"Noooope, not on the couch." 

"I will sleep on the floor." 

"Great. You'll need to bring your own food, the refrigerator is empty."

"I'll bring beets and horsemeat." 

"Gross. Keep it outside, ok?" 

Pam watched Michael and Dwight going back and forth as if it were a tennis match. She coughed slightly, causing both men to look at her. "I'm just gonna get back to my desk, but let me know if you need anything before I go. Otherwise I'll see you on Monday," she said as she backed out of the room. 

"Maybe," Michael called out after her, but Pam had already left his office.

-- 

"How much stuff did you bring?" Jim laughed a couple of hours later as Pam piled several bags into the back seat of his dad's car. 

"It's just one bag of clothes, my purse, and then a couple of snacks. It's gonna be a long journey, and it's not like we can stop for lunch unless Michael does," she explained as she settled into the passenger seat and clicked her seatbelt into place. 

Jim's stomach growled loudly. "You make an excellent point," he laughed. Pam reached behind for a bag of chips and tossed them to him. "Thanks," he smiled and opened the bag. Pam opened her own packet and popped a chip into her mouth. They both sat in silence eating, watching out for Michael. "So what disguises did you bring?" Jim smiled around a chip. 

"Just a hat and a red wig," she grinned. "And a hat for you." 

Jim was about to ask to see it when Michael's car suddenly appeared. "Michael!" he shouted, throwing his bag of chips to Pam. He immediately put the car into drive and stepped on the gas to follow Michael. 

"Slow down!" Pam yelled, clutching onto the grab handle. "He's gonna see us!" 

Jim eased his foot off the gas, keeping a comfortable distance from Michael's car, and once they were on the highway, Jim took his chips back. "So," he began, "how do you think he celebrates?" He popped a chip into his mouth and grinned.

"I think he goes to see the groundhog and then goes to some big screening of the movie. I bet there's a little group that goes every year," she said. "How about you?" 

"Honestly, I've no idea. Maybe Michael wears the groundhog mascot costume at the ceremony," he laughed.

Pam's eyes grew wide. "Oh my god! Could you imagine?" She burst into a fit of giggles. "Have you ever been to the ceremony before?" 

"Nah," he shook his head. "How about you?" 

"Nope. I'm really excited to go! Oh wait, do you think Michael will go to it? I guess we can only go, if he goes," Pam pouted. 

"Of course he's going to the ceremony. You don't drive all the way to Punxsutawney for Groundhog Day and not go to the ceremony," Jim smirked. 

"That's a very good point," she laughed.

-- 

After three new albums that Jim wanted Pam to listen to, a short break at a rest stop where Michael had to use the restroom, and then bought a soda that led to another trip to the restroom, and all of their snacks eaten, they eventually made it to Punxsutawney. As Michael's car began to slow, Jim made sure to keep his distance. Eventually he pulled over to a big red and grey building, stopped his car and got out.

"I thought you said he was staying at the Cherry Street Inn?" Pam said as she pulled out a pair of binoculars from her purse. 

"Where did you get those from?" Jim laughed, but was also slightly jealous he didn't have a pair. Wordlessly, Pam handed him a second pair. "Thanks," he smiled. 

"I grabbed them last night when I got the wig. I thought they'd come in handy. But anyway. Are we staying at the wrong hotel? Why's he here? What's he saying?" she asked as she gazed through the binoculars.

Jim was silent as he tried to watch what Michael was doing. He seemed to be flapping his arms around, shoved his hand in his mouth and then pointed to the building before he crossed his arms as if to say ‘no'. "Oh. My. God," he said slowly, lowering his binoculars and turning to Pam with wide eyes. "I'm pretty sure he just had an argument with himself and said he wasn't going to stay at this hotel." They watched Michael get back into his car and drive off. 

"Follow him!" Pam shouted, pointed forward. Jim immediately put the car in gear and followed Michael. "I can't believe you can lip read from so far away," she said, amazed at Jim's newfound skill. 

"I can't." 

"Then how did you know what he was saying?" 

"The movie, Pam. The movie!" Jim exclaimed. She looked at him, a little confused. "It's what happens in the beginning of the movie. Phil and the camera crew drive to this building first, and then Phil says he's not staying here, and then Rita tells him she booked him the bed and breakfast on Cherry Street."

"Oh my god," she whispered.

"It's crazy right?" he asked, turning his head slightly, but still keeping his eyes on the road.

"He can't be, can he?" she replied, looking at him. "I mean, no sane person would do that." 

"I know, but it's Michael," he deadpanned. 

"So you really think he's re-enacting the movie?" 

"I guess we'll find out tomorrow," he grinned. 

--

After Jim pulled up outside of the Cherry Street Inn, Pam handed him a black wide brimmed hat and a pair of sunglasses. She then put on a straight, red bobbed wig followed by her own sunglasses. "You can't be serious," he laughed, looking at her.

"Of course I am. You don't want Michael to spot us do you?" 

"Fine," he said, putting on the hat begrudgingly. They got out of the car and suspiciously made their way to the entrance of the bed and breakfast. "We look ridiculous," Jim hissed at Pam.

"Shhh," she shot back, and continued her tiptoe-like walk into the quaint hotel. "Hi," she smiled at the lady with grey hair behind the front desk, "we have a reservation for two rooms under the name of Halp..."

Jim jumped forward, interrupting Pam. "They're booked under Woods and Richmond." Pam turned to him with a furrowed brow. "Elle and Emmett," he whispered with a shrug, causing Pam to burst into a fit of giggles. 

The older woman raised an eyebrow at Jim and Pam and opened the ledger to look for their reservations. She put her reading glasses on and ran her finger down the page. "Ah yes, here you are. Two rooms for two nights." She reached behind her to get the room keys and handed them over to Jim. "Breakfast is from 6.30 to 8.30am. Checkout on Friday is at 10am. If you require anything during your stay, please do come and see us here at the front desk. Enjoy your stay with us." She smiled at Jim and Pam, waiting for them to leave.

"Thanks," Jim replied as he handed one of the keys over to Pam. They started to walk towards the stairs, but Jim stopped, turned on his heel and lightly jogged back to the front desk. "I almost forgot, a friend of ours is staying here tonight and we'd like to surprise him." Jim lowered his voice. "Which room is Michael Scott staying in?" 

The woman flipped the ledger open again and put her glasses back on. "He's in room 4. Your rooms are on either side of his." 

"Oh, that is fantastic, thank you," Jim beamed. "And if you see him, can you not mention that you've seen us please?"

"Mum's the word," she smiled, miming zipping her lips shut and throwing away the key. 

Jim smiled at her and then walked back to where Pam was standing. "Our rooms are next to Michael's," he grinned. 

"Amazing," she smiled. They walked in silence up the stairs, and peered around the corner to make sure the coast was clear before they made their way to the rooms. Pam's stomach let out a loud growl as she reached her door. 

"Shhh," Jim chuckled. "Wanna drop our bags and head out for an early dinner? Seeing as we just snacked our way through lunch." 

"Sounds good," Pam smiled.

--

"So where shall we go?" Pam asked as they walked along the street, keeping a lookout for Michael. 

"The world's our oyster," Jim grinned. "Nothing happens in the movie til tomorrow, so we don't need to worry about following Michael around. So, dinner? Your choice."

"Oh wow," she blushed. "Ummm," she hummed as she pondered Jim's question while looking down at her shoes. "Would French be ok?"

"French it is," he smiled, holding his hand out as if for Pam to lead the way. "I'm sure there'll be a little French bistro around here somewhere. Let's go have a look." 

"You're really ok with French?" she asked nervously. 

"Yeah, of course." He was silent for a moment as they walked. "Why wouldn't I be?" 

"Oh, it's, uh. Roy hates French food so we never get to go," she said quietly. 

"Oh." 

"Yea, he says it's ‘gay' or something," she shook her head. "I don't know," she sighed. "I'm just kind of sick of wings and burgers, you know?"

"Yeah," he breathed, looking down at the ground. They carried on in silence, passing Punxy Phil's diner and a pizza place. Finally Jim spotted a little dimly lit restaurant called Chez Amour. "Shall we?" he asked, raising his eyebrows with a lopsided grin.  

Pam smiled at him as he held the door open for her. "Thanks," she barely whispered. 

They took their seats at a small table by the window and ordered their meals; French onion soup and moules Provençale for Pam, and steak tartare and chicken Forestière for Jim. They both gave tight lipped smiles to the waiter who brought over the bottle of white wine that they'd ordered, and sat silently as he poured each of them a glass. As soon as he finally left, Jim picked up his glass to raise a toast. "To the groundhog," Jim smiled.

"To Michael's private celebration," Pam countered, grinning. 

"Yes!" Jim exclaimed. "To Michael's private celebration." 

They clinked glasses and each took a sip. "So I guess we've gotta be up early tomorrow huh?" Pam said as she put her glass back on the table. 

"Ugh, why did they have Phil get up at 6am?" Jim groaned. "Wouldn't an easy morning with a lay in have been nice?"  

Pam giggled. "I guess we should get up at like," she pulled a face, "five thirty?" Jim hung his head so that it hit the table. "We've got to be up and ready for when he leaves! We don't want to miss him!" 

"I know, I know. It's just so early," Jim moaned into his folded arms, his head resting on them.

"I wonder which part of the movie he's gonna be doing," Pam asked. 

"How do you mean?" he asked, sitting up.  

"Well, like is he going to do day one and do it all straight, or do you think it'll be later in the movie when he's hitting on women, or building a snowman, or trying to kill himself?" 

"Oh god," Jim groaned, running his hand through his hair. "I hope it's just day one. Nice and easy." 

"Me too," she laughed, crossing her fingers. The waiter brought over their hors d'oeuvres, and they both quickly tucked in. "Mmm, this is so good," she moaned as she pulled the spoon from her mouth. "How's yours?" she asked, nodding towards Jim's plate.

"Great. Wanna try some?" he offered. 

She smiled and readily accepted, before holding out a spoonful of soup for Jim to taste. "God, it's so nice to share food." 

"How do you mean?" Jim asked, a little confused. 

"Oh it's so silly," she said, waving her hand in front of her face. "Just, Roy won't share any food. He always says if I want to try what he's eating so badly, I should have ordered it myself." 

"Oh," he replied, looking down. He took another mouthful, not entirely sure what to say. Pam did the same and they sat in silence eating. Finally, it got a little too much for Jim and he spoke up. "Ugh," he cleared his throat, causing Pam to look up. "I heard in some interview with Harold Ramis, that he said Bill Murray was meant to be stuck in Groundhog Day for something like ten years. Could you imagine that?" 

Pam didn't say a word, she just nodded, ducked her head down and ate another spoonful of soup.

"Sorry, did I say something wrong?" Jim asked. 

"No," Pam sighed. "It's just, I'm sorry." She waved her hand in front of her face. Jim tilted his head up as if encouraging her to talk. "Just kind of feels like I am stuck in Groundhog Day. The movie I mean, not the actual day." She let out a small laugh and wiped her cheek where a lone tear had fallen. "It's like, every day is the same." 

"I know what you mean," he laughed. "I feel the same with work. It's like we're trapped there." 

"No, I don't mean at the office," she said, shaking her head. "If anything, work is actually kind of a break. You know, you're there, and all the pranks and stuff. And you never know what Michael is going to do next." Jim nodded along as Pam spoke. "It's more like at home. Every day is picking up after Roy, and making him dinner, and cleaning. Or just waiting for him to come home from some bar after a night out with his buddies. His ‘jokes'," she said in finger quotes, "are always the same. It's always the same weekend plans, same vacation plans, same friends. His friends that is." She paused and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drag our evening down."

Jim lifted his hand as if he was going to put it over hers, but thought twice and picked up his fork and ran his thumb over the tines instead. "You haven't, don't worry at all." He tried to smile at her, but felt like all the colour had drained from his face. He picked up the bottle of wine and refilled each of their glasses. "So, uh, do you think Phil will see his shadow tomorrow?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

She looked up at him with a grateful smile. "I guess we'll have to wait and see."

By 5.50am, Pam was awake, showered, dressed, and knocking softly on Jim's door, but there was no answer. She looked around self-consciously, slightly worried that she'd be seen by Michael. She knocked again, and a few moments later, Jim finally opened the door.

"Where.. oh," she gulped as she realised the Jim that was standing in front of her wasn't wearing any clothes. Instead, he was clutching one of the hotel's greying white towels low on his hips from behind, and water droplets were clinging to his lightly muscled torso. Pam lowered her eyes but realised she was instead staring at the trail of hair that was disappearing beneath Jim's towel. She looked up to his slightly defined chest and then further to where he was pushing his wet hair off of his forehead, as if he were a male model in a shampoo commercial. Or at least it seemed that way to Pam. She tried to speak but choked on her words. "You, ugh," she coughed. "You're not dressed," she stated.

"I'm so sorry," he said, truly apologetically, "I accidentally snoozed my alarm. I can get dressed in like three minutes I promise. Happens like every day before work," he laughed. "I'll just," he motioned backwards with his head towards the room and started to close the door.

"Wait!" Pam hissed, putting her hand on the door to stop Jim closing it. "What's our plan?"

"Uh, I guess," Jim reached up to scratch the back of his neck, elongating his whole body and making Pam blush, "let's listen through the walls and then you head out of your room and hide behind the corner and watch for him to leave. And then knock on my door as you pass. I promise I'll be dressed," he grinned. 

"Sounds good," Pam croaked, before she hurried back to her room. She grabbed a glass from the small desk and held it up against the wall. She glanced down at her watch and saw it was only 5.56am so was about to drop the glass when she heard a beeping through the wall. She pressed her ear harder to the glass to try and hear better. Eventually the beeping stopped, but was swiftly followed by a loud bang and Michael shouting. She could hear some ruffling around, before there was silence again. Pam glanced down at her watch again and saw it was just about to hit 6am. A few seconds after the top of the hour, Sonny and Cher started blasting from Michael's room so loudly that she had to take a step back from the wall. ‘I Got You Babe' carried on blaring for a few moments until there was a loud crash and it sounded as if something had been smashed.  Pam listened for a few more minutes, but there was silence. She decided to head outside and wait around the corner, so she grabbed her wig, coat and purse.

Thirty minutes later, Michael finally opened his door. Pam peered around the corner and watched him stand in the hallway looking around. He tutted to himself and then eventually said "think it'll be an early spring?" He changed his voice slightly and responded "I'm predicting March 21st." Pam heard his footsteps down the stairs and quickly strode over to Jim's door and knocked. "Let's go," she hissed at him as soon as he opened it.

"What'd I miss?" Jim whispered as they crept down the hallway. He'd exchanged the large hat Pam had given him for a less inconspicuous ball cap that he'd brought with him.  

"I'm pretty sure he set an alarm for just before 6am, and then put in a tape of ‘I Got You Babe' that started playing a couple of minutes later," she quietly replied.

"Wow," he chuckled. 

They ran down the stairs silently and spied on Michael from around the corner. He had walked into the main dining room and was looking around for someone to talk to. "I slept alone," he eventually said to a woman passing by, who in return gave him an odd look. "There's talk of a blizzard," he said loudly to himself as he picked up a coffee pot and poured himself a coffee into a paper cup. He put his coat and scarf on, picked up his large bag, grabbed the cup, and looked around the dining room. "I'd say the chance of departure is 80%," he announced to no one.

"Oh, he must be doing day two," Jim whispered to Pam as they watched Michael waiting for a reply from the room, which never came. 

"Huh?" she whispered back as they crept down the stairs and followed Michael out of the hotel. 

Jim waited until they were outside and walking a safe distance from Michael along the street. "On day one, Phil says the chance of departure is 100%, but then on the second day it drops to 80% when the lady asks him if he's leaving today," he explained.

"Oh," Pam giggled. "So where are we going next?"

"Beesly, I'm so disappointed in you," he said, shaking his head with mock disappointment. "I thought you'd seen this movie."

"I mean, like once, maybe twice. I'm clearly not as obsessed as you," she grinned. Jim rolled his eyes and tried not to smile. "So are we going to see the groundhog?" 

"Yes, we're going to Gobbler's Knob," he smiled. "But I think there's gonna be a couple of treats in store first," he said with a raised eyebrow, causing Pam to burst into laughter. 

They followed Michael through the town square, watching every move he made. First he walked past a man, who was neither homeless looking in the slightest nor begging for money, and patted his body down as if he were looking for his wallet. Then he walked up to a man and shouted "Ned Ryerson! Bing!" at his face, causing the man to jump backwards and almost fall over.

"Oh my god," Pam whispered as they peered at Michael from behind a tree. "How could I forget about Ned Ryerson?" 

"See, now I'm confused. Is he meant to be Phil or Ned?" Jim asked.

"Jim, come on, it's obvious," she deadpanned. "It's clearly a one man show. He's playing all the parts." 

"Of course," he laughed.

They watched as Michael stopped before the edge of the sidewalk and looked along the street, before moving to stand in front of a puddle, which he then proceeded to walk into and then said something to himself.

"First step's a doozy," Jim whispered to Pam, as if confirming what Michael had just said. 

Jim and Pam crept out from behind the tree and kept their distance from Michael as the three of them walked to Gobbler's Knob. Michael shouted "Nancy Taylor" at a very confused woman, before walking over to close to the stage and setting the bag that he was carrying down on the ground.

"Nancy Taylor?" Jim said to himself as they got closer. "That's not for a few more days."

"Hmm?" Pam murmured, not taking her eyes off of Michael.

"I think he's maybe doing all of the days," he explained. "Because he started on day two at the hotel, but ‘Ned Ryerson! Bing!' only happens on day one like that, and ‘Nancy Taylor' is, man I don't even know what day that is meant to be. And maybe the bang you heard this morning I bet was Michael smashing his alarm clock, which is definitely later on."

"Oh yeah! That's exactly what it sounded like, come to think of it! Wow," she laughed. "Come on, let's get a little closer." 

Jim pulled his cap lower over his face and together with Pam, suspiciously tiptoed over to where Micahel had taken a small tripod out of his bag and was setting it up with a small camcorder on top. He stood in front of the camera holding a hairbrush and tilted the viewfinder forward so he could see himself on the small screen. Michael pressed a button on the camera and was just about to start talking to it, when another man came over and greeted him warmly. Pam immediately pushed Jim further forward so that they could listen to their conversation. 

"Think it's going to happen this year?" the man asked Michael. 

"God I hope so," Michael replied. "It's so tiring doing this year after year. How did it work so easily for Phil?" 

"Wish I knew buddy," he laughed, slapping Michael. "I'm gonna go set up over there," he said with a nod of his head as he lifted his own camera bag. "Maybe see you tomorrow," he smiled and crossed his fingers. 

"You mean today!" Michael shot back with a finger gun. The man laughed and put his finger on his nose and pointed the hand holding the camera bag at Michael.

At that, Jim jumped back and pulled Pam backwards. "Ok hold on," he loudly whispered. "Michael is trying to get himself stuck in a time loop on Groundhog Day?"

"That's ridiculous. I mean, why would he do that?" 

"Pam, come on. It's Michael. Would anything surprise you?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I know, I know. But this is crazy, right?" 

"So crazy I don't even understand it," he whispered, looking over at where Michael was now talking into his hairbrush in front of the camera. "I wonder how many times he's tried to do this." 

"And that other guy too. Is it something they're doing together? It's just so weird." They both looked at each other and burst into laughter. "Stop," Pam pleaded, clutching her side as she carried on laughing. "We've gotta see if Phil sees his shadow!"

They crept away from Michael and went to watch the groundhog as it was pulled out of its hutch. The man on stage read from a scroll and the whole crowd groaned as it was revealed that Phil had seen his shadow and that there would be 6 more weeks of winter. 

"I mean, that's kind of ok," Jim said as he leaned down to Pam. "Lines up to when Spring actually is."

Pam giggled. "I don't know," she said, looking up at him. "An early Spring might be kinda nice. A change from all the gloominess around here. I could do with something nice and warm."

"Yeah," Jim replied with a slight croak in his voice as he stared at Pam.

Pam stared up at Jim and they locked eyes for a few moments. "We should, uh, Michael," she managed to say.

"Crap, where's he gone?" Jim suddenly said as he snapped his head up and started looking for Michael. 

"Over there!" Pam shouted, pointing to the other side of the stage. They quickly ran over to where Michael was walking, and followed him to a nearby diner. They waited outside the restaurant for a while to make sure that Michael would be seated, and finally crept inside, both wearing their sunglasses.  

As they waited to be seated, both Jim and Pam looked around the diner. "Three o'clock," Jim whispered, nodding his head to the left. Pam bent backwards and looked behind Jim to where Michael was seated, his table overflowing with food. 

"Table for two, hun?" a waitress asked Jim.

"Uh, yeah please."

"Booth or table?" she asked, picking up two large plastic covered menus.

"Booth please," Pam piped up. "Could we get one over there?" she asked, pointing over to where Michael was sitting.

"No problem, sweetheart." 

Jim and Pam took their seats in the booth on opposite benches and stood their menus up on the table to create almost a little fort for themselves so that Michael wouldn't see them. "Why's he got so much food?" Pam asked. "Do you think he's meeting more people who are trying to get stuck?"

"Mmmm," Jim screwed up his nose and shook his head. "There's a scene where Phil gives up and just starts eating everything. I guess he's doing that." They watched as Michael started shoving food into his face, purposely smearing some cake over his cheek. "Yeah, I'm not feeling hungry all of a sudden. Think I'm just gonna get a coffee."

"Yeah, my appetite's gone," she grimaced. 

They placed their drink orders and watched as Michael lit up a cigarette and took a drag on it before he started to choke on the smoke. A waiter quickly came over and asked him to put the cigarette out. Peering out from behind the menu fort, Jim and Pam sipped their hot drinks as they watched Michael get out of his seat and go around pointing to different people and talking to the other patrons as if he knew them personally.  

"He's doing the bit where he's predicting what's about to happen," Jim whispered. "I think we should head out and wait outside for him. Just in case he comes over to our table."

"Good idea," Pam nodded.  

Jim took out a few bills and left them on the table and then the two of them crept out of the restaurant just as Michael was being asked by one of the waitresses to leave the other customers alone. They stood and waited around across the street, spying on the restaurant to make sure that they didn't miss Michael leaving.  

"Where does he go after this?" Pam asked as they stared at the front door of the diner.

"I'm just trying to think," Jim said, his mouth tagged to the side slightly in thought. "As long as he's not going to commit any felonies or try and commit suicide, because I really don't want us to have to interfere with his day." 

"Oh god, could you imagine. He'd blame us for the time loop not working," she giggled. They carried on watching the door, on high alert every time it opened. "So, if you were stuck in a time loop, what would your perfect day be?"

"Ooh, good question Beesly," he grinned. "I'd want to play some basketball, for sure. Something a little outdoorsy, maybe go for a bike ride to a lake and then canoe. Picnic afterwards."

"Sounds pretty nice," she smiled.

"I know I'd want to play a prank on Dwight for sure. And I guess it would be nice to see you too," he said with a slight blush. 

"Wait. Your perfect day to be stuck in a time loop, and you want to go to the office?" 

"Wait, wait, wait," he rushed out, holding his hands up, "I never said I wanted to be at the office! Maybe, we bump into Dwight on the street or something, I don't know. I haven't really figured it out yet," he laughed. 

"Ok," she giggled. "So what are we doing after Dwight gets pranked?"

Jim swallowed hard at Pam's suggestion that they'd be spending more time together. "Um, I guess go get some good food and then watch a movie. Maybe Dazed and Confused or The Princess Bride," he said with a trying-to-be-casual shrug. 

Before Pam could say anything, Michael appeared from the restaurant and began to walk away from them. "There he is," she hissed and pointed to where Michael was disappearing around the corner. "Quick, let's go!"

They rushed across the street and followed Michael from a slight distance as he walked around the town. "So," Jim eventually said, "what would you want to do if you got stuck in a time loop?"

"Oh definitely paint," she said without missing a beat. "And I guess I'd want to see you too," she said with a roll of her eyes, bumping her shoulder into Jim's arm as they walked, "so maybe I could come and paint the lake that you're canoeing on?" 

"Sounds like a great idea," he said with a small smile, trying not to show too much of his excitement at what she'd just said.  

"And then you know, I guess we've got dinner and a movie later on, so maybe I'll squeeze in some pampering or a nap while you go play basketball," she grinned.

"Got it all figured out, don't you Beesly," he smiled. 

"Something like that," she said, her tongue poking between her teeth as she flashed Jim a wide smile. 

They noticed that Michael had stopped and taken out his cell phone to make a call. They edged closer to him to try and listen to his call, but realised that it wasn't necessary as he was shouting into his phone. "I know there's a blizzard. When will the long-distance lines be repaired? What if there is no tomorrow? There wasn't one today," he screamed.

"Ahh, we're back to day 2," Jim muttered to himself, causing Pam to giggle. 

Michael put his phone away after his outburst and continued walking, and Jim and Pam realised that he was heading back to the bed and breakfast. "Oh thank goodness," Pam gushed. "I hope he's going for a nap or something, I could really do with just sitting somewhere warm for a while. I'm freezing." They carried on following him, but held back slightly as he got to the entrance of the hotel. Once Michael was inside, they waited a little while before entering and then peered around the lobby to see if the coast was clear. But it wasn't.

They saw the back of Michael's head sticking up above the back of a wingback chair, and snuck behind him. He was watching an episode of Jeopardy as a man sat opposite him reading a newspaper. "Who is Beyoncé?" Michael shouted at the screen, causing the man reading to glare at him. Michael shook his head to himself as the contestant on screen correctly said "who is Taylor Swift?", and he muttered something under his breath at the TV. Jim and Pam carried on watching as Michael shouted answer after answer at the television, but none of them were right, and the man opposite him was getting visibly annoyed at Michael's outbursts. They could see Michael was about to get up, so they quickly hid behind a plant to avoid being seen. "I'll get them right tomorrow," Michael said to the man who was still reading his newspaper. The man looked up at him with a confused expression on his face, before he resumed his reading.

Michael made his way to the stairs, and by the time Jim and Pam got to the top, they saw Michael's door close behind him. "I guess we've got some time to rest," Jim said as they reached his bedroom. 

"Well someone has got to listen in to what he's doing, and seeing as I did it this morning, you're up buddy," she said wiggling her eyebrows. 

"Ugh, fine," Jim mumbled. "But don't go napping, we'll have to make a run for it when he does finally leave." 

"Deal," she grinned before slipping into her room. 

--

It was almost four hours later that Michael finally left his room, and after waiting for the coast to be clear, Jim pounded on Pam's door before running down the stairs to follow him. Pam saw him disappearing down the stairs, and quickly grabbed her wig and followed him down, finally catching up to him at the main door of the hotel.  

"Quick, let's go!" Jim exclaimed as Pam arrived downstairs. He ran off, leaving Pam to trail behind him. 

"Where do you think he's going?" Pam panted as she caught up to Jim. 

"My guess is a bar, I think it'll be the one at Rita's hotel," he said, watching where Michael was heading. "So maybe that first building we stopped at on the way here?"

They followed Michael through town as it began lightly snowing, and sure enough, he walked through the doors of the grey and red building. They followed him through the doors and managed to get a table close to the bar where Michael was pulling out a bar stool. "Looking foxy tonight," he loudly announced to no one.

Pam gave Jim a questioning look. "Phil insults the camera guy the first time he comes here. Remember?" 

"Kinda," Pam grimaced. "I'm absolutely watching the movie as soon as we get home."

"You better," he grinned.

They listened intently as Michael placed his order of a sweet vermouth on the rocks with a twist. The bartender made the drink in front of him, and as soon as the glass was placed in front of him, Michael raised it, toasting to world peace with no one.

A few minutes later, a waiter came over to Jim and Pam's table and Jim ordered them the same drink as Michael. Once their drinks arrived, they quietly toasted to world peace and tried not to laugh too much. They each took a sip, both grimacing wildly at the taste. "Ah, it makes me think of Rome. The way the sun hits the buildings in the afternoon," Jim grinned.

"Oh right," Pam laughed, "that's why she likes this drink isn't it. I totally forgot!" 

"Yeah, and the poor guy has to drink so many of them," Jim chuckled, shaking his head. "If only she had better taste in drinks." He took another sip and pulled a face again. "But then I guess it wouldn't be a comedy then, would it?" 

"See, that's where I think you're wrong," Pam replied, putting her drink on the table. " I know it's meant to be a comedy, but it's really kind of heartbreaking if you think about it." Jim lent forward, intrigued by Pam's reasoning. "I mean, Phil is there, falling in love with this woman, for years. Getting to know everything about her, day after day. Everything he's doing is for her. And she's just got no idea." She took another sip and looked at Jim. "Could you imagine?"

Jim sucked in a breath. "Yeah," he finally breathed out, before hanging his head.  

"Huh?" Pam asked, cocking her head to the side, trying to look at Jim, but he was looking down at the table. 

After what seemed like minutes, Jim finally looked up at Pam. "I'm in love with you," he breathed.

"What?" Pam asked, completely shell shocked.

"I'm really sorry if that's weird for you to hear, but I needed you to hear it." 

"What are you doing?" 

"You just said it yourself, it's heartbreaking being in love with someone who doesn't know. And I don't think I can do it anymore. I just, I just needed you to know," he said, looking back down at the table.

Pam was silent as a tear rolled down her face. "I, um," she began, "I'm really sorry." Instead, she grabbed her purse, pushed her chair back and rushed out of the bar, leaving Jim all alone. 

--

Jim stayed in the bar long after Pam had run out, nursing his sweet vermouth. He kept one eye on Michael, and the other on the door, just in case Pam decided to come back. But she didn't. He stared morosely into his empty glass and was contemplating ordering a whiskey, but just as he was about to, Michael pushed his bar stool backwards. After regaining his composure from nearly having fallen off of the seat, Michael shrugged on his coat and headed for the door. Jim sighed as he dragged himself out of his chair and pulled his cap lower on his head, wondering why on earth he was continuing with this stupid plan now that Pam wasn't with him. But what else did he have to do in Punxsutawney on his own?

He followed Michael to the grass covered square in the middle of town, and found a bench to sit on as Michael started to play in the light dusting of snow, laying down in it and making snow angels. Jim stared glumly into space as Michael gathered enough snow up to make a tiny snowman with the meagre amount of snow that had fallen. Once the snowman was finally complete, Michael slapped his face repeatedly, causing Jim to finally focus his attention on something other than the gravel two feet in front of him. As he looked up at Michael, he saw that Pam, minus her red wig, was walking towards him. Jim sat up straight and wasn't entirely sure where to look as Pam edged closer to him.

"Hey," Pam said quietly as she sat down on the bench next to Jim.

"Hi," he croaked, his voice hoarse after not being used for the last two and a half hours. 

"What have I missed?" she asked, nodding towards Michael where he was throwing fistfuls of snow at passersby in some sort of an attempt to start a snowball fight.

"Um, nothing much," Jim said with an upturned mouth, shaking his head slightly. "He left the bar, came here, made that," he pointed to the snowman, "and slapped himself a lot, and now I think he's in an imaginary snowball fight."

"He slapped himself?" Pam asked with a surprised tone.

"Slap montage," he replied, not willing to offer any further explanation.

"Ah."

They were both silent for a while as they watched Michael trying to gather enough snow to actually make a snowball. Pam fidgeted with her fingers and twisted her engagement ring around, unsure of what to say. She kept turning the ring until it loosened and accidentally dropped to the ground. The small tinkling sound pulled Jim's attention down to the ground where the ring lay, but Pam didn't move to pick it up.

"I, um, I," she swallowed hard, staring at the ring on the frozen ground. "I was thinking more about my perfect day to be stuck in, and I don't think it would be the one that I was creating." 

"Great," Jim muttered to himself as he bent forward to rest his elbows on his needs and hang his head in his hands.

She ignored Jim's murmur and carried on talking. "I think," she paused, "no, I know," she said in a more resolute voice. "The day I'd want to be stuck in forever has already happened." She looked at Jim and waited for him to say something or look at her, but he didn't. "It was that horrible day that I was late to work and missed breakfast so I had a yoghurt at my desk, but you came over and told me that it had expired. And then Michael made us go to that awful mini-golf place and you made me miss every shot so I tore up our scorecard and threw the pencil at you. And then I ate the really spicy hotdog and you just kept laughing at me as you tried to help me but nothing would make the burning stop." She wiped a tear away that was streaming down her cheek. 

Jim finally looked at her. "Why would you want to be stuck in that day forever?" he asked, confused.

"Because that was the day I realised I like you," she said simply. 

Jim tried to say something but it was as if he'd been winded.

"And it was an awful day, and everything just kept going wrong. But you were there the whole day, just making me laugh. And taking care of me. And," she sniffed back her tears, "it was the best day I'd had in, god, in maybe forever. I just didn't stop smiling all day, even though it was so bad. And then you gave me the stupid pencil and the god awful hot sauce packet in the teapot, and I have them on my desk now. And whenever I look at them, I think of that terrible day, but how great you made it." She looked over at Jim who was staring at her. "And I realised that I'd rather be stuck in the worst day of my life with you, than the best day of it with Roy." 

The silence between them was deafening. Jim finally worked up the courage to speak. "Pam, I..." But Pam cut him off.

"I'm really sorry I ran out of the bar. I guess I didn't know what to say, or how to admit my feelings for you to myself. So after I left, I just walked around this stupid freezing cold town for like an hour. And I thought about how much fun we'd had following Michael around, and it made me think of every other day we'd spent together, all the way back to the awful day and you telling me that my yoghurt had expired. And that's when I knew." She paused. "I love you, Jim."

"I," he started but stopped, instead leaning forward so he could kiss her. He slipped one hand across her cheek and into her hair as she began to return the kiss. Pam sighed happily as Jim deepened the kiss, pulling him closer to her by his shoulder. They finally pulled apart, both breathing hard. Jim rested his forehead against Pam's, his hands spanning her cheeks, and smiled possibly the biggest smile of his life. "I love you so much," he whispered.

"I love you," she smiled, before leaning forward to kiss him again.

The snow started falling harder, landing coldly on them. "Let's go over there," Jim said, with a nod towards the bandstand that was on the other side of the square. He stood and offered his hand to Pam, which she readily accepted. 

They rushed over to the covered stage, laughing as the snow fell around them. Jim held out his hands and Pam slipped into his embrace, resting her head on his chest. Jim wrapped one arm around her, and his other hand found hers, and slowly they began to sway, dancing to imagined music. "Wait!" Pam suddenly gasped, pulling her head back from Jim's chest. "We've lost Michael!"

"Yeah, I really don't care," Jim laughed as he pulled her close again and they carried on swaying.

"I ended it," she said quietly after a few minutes.

"Hmm?" he murmured into her hair, not quite sure what Pam had just said.

She pulled back slightly to look up at Jim. "After I walked around, freezing my ass off and I'd made my decision, I called Roy and told him that when I get home I'm moving out." She paused, looking up at Jim's slightly shocked face. "I mean, there was more to it than that, but I really don't want to get into it now."

"Yeah of course," he nodded. He was suddenly struck with a slight awkwardness. "Um, do you wanna head back to the hotel? It's getting pretty cold."

"Yeah," she nodded with a small smile. Pam held out her hand to Jim and led him off the bandstand. They walked past the bench they'd been sitting on and she noticed the glint of her engagement ring. She stopped and picked it up, dusting the snow off of it, and slipped it into her coat pocket. Jim didn't say anything, he just sucked a breath in. "I should probably give this back to him."

"Yeah, no, of course," he agreed, sounding like a frog was stuck in his throat. 

"Hey," she said, stopping walking. "This was my choice and I don't have a single regret. I meant what I said, I'd happily spend the worst day of my life with you over and over again." She tiptoed up to kiss him.

"Well," he smiled as they pulled apart, "let's hope we get some good days in there too."

Jim and Pam made it back to the hotel and crept up the stairs, hopeful that they wouldn't bump into Michael now that they were no longer trailing him. Jim walked Pam to her room, hand in hand, and gave her a small squeeze as they stopped outside her door.

"So," Pam breathed, looking down at her watch. "It's after midnight, I guess we haven't got stuck in today, well, yesterday." She grinned up at Jim with her tongue poking between her teeth, eyes sparkling. 

"Come on Beesly," he said, shaking his head with a slight roll of his eyes. "You know it's not midnight, it's 6am when he resets. So we've got a few more hours to be worried." 

"Ah damn," she giggled. "Well, I guess we should get some sleep in case we're up in six hours." She pressed her body against his and pushed her hands into his hair, tugging him down slightly so that she could kiss him. Before it could get too heated, Pam pulled away, running her hands down his chest. "Goodnight, Jim," she smiled before slipping inside her room. 

Jim couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he tiptoed past Michael's room and opened the door to his. He shrugged his jacket off and dropped it on the chair in the corner of his room. He pulled the floral curtains hanging at the small window closed, and then reached down to pull his sweater off. He noticed the small television sitting on the desk and contemplated watching something, but a yawn took over him and he shook his head to himself. He unbuckled his jeans and slipped them off, throwing them onto the pile of clothes that was amassing on the small chair. His socks were kicked under the chair, landing somewhere near his shoes, and he was about to pull his t-shirt off when he heard a soft knocking on his door. Without thinking about it, he padded over to open it, wearing just his white t-shirt and black boxer briefs.

"Oh," Pam gasped as Jim opened the door. "Sorry, I, um," she trailed off as she blushed, not sure where to look.

"Sorry, I was, uh, just getting ready for bed," he said, positioning his lower half slightly behind the door. 

"No, um, sorry, I, uh," she stumbled. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "I was wondering if maybe I could stay with you tonight?" 

"Oh," he whispered, now his turn to blush. "Yeah, definitely," he managed to croak out as he opened the door more and motioned for Pam to come in.

-- 

A few hours after they finally got to sleep, Jim and Pam were disturbed by a crash, followed by some shouting coming from the room next door to Jim's. Jim raised one eyebrow in an attempt to open his eye, but it didn't help. 

"Whawatha?" Pam murmured into Jim's bare chest where she was laying. 

"I guess Michael didn't get stuck in Groundhog Day," he said sleepily, pulling her tighter to him. 

"There's always next year I guess," she sleepily sighed.

"Absolutely there is," he yawned, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head and falling back asleep, content to spend the rest of eternity exactly where he was.