Despite Dwight's awful pitching, they managed to get in half an hour's batting practice. Michael argued with every call, and wound up taking two turns at bat. Kelly giggled so much when Jim tried to show her how to hold a bat that Pam stepped in to take over. Kelly struck out on three pitches. Toby hit a slider to left field and Jim's swing sent a softball into the grass at the far edge of the field for a home run. He jogged around the bases, high-fiving Darryl and Lonny as he passed them. When he sat down on the picnic bench next to Pam, sweat had plastered his hair to his forehead and he was grinning.

"Sweet, even if I do say so myself."

"Don't get cocky," she warned him.

He laughed. "Hard not to, with Dwight pitching."

"Can we get him to play for the other team?"

She smiled, and his eyes met hers, and they were alone in their shared bubble of laughter. She was acutely aware of his shoulder touching hers. He handed her the bottle of water, and she drank from it without wiping the rim.

Andy strode up, a serious look on his face. "Come on, Tuna. Gimme a break. You going to keep me on the bench?"

"Andy, I forgot, do you bat right or left?" Jim asked.

"Either way," Andy said boastfully.

"You're a switch hitter?" Pam asked with a straight face.

"Yeah," Andy said. Pam repressed a smile and knew Jim was fighting to keep a poker face.

"So you probably like it straight up the middle, huh?" Jim said nonchalantly.

"Yes," Andy said, looking puzzled.

"Don't you get a lot of popups that way?" Pam said, choking with suppressed laughter.

"Huh?" Andy said. His expression said he thought he might be being teased, but wasn't sure.

Pam turned away, shoulders shaking.

"Okay. We'll see," Jim said. "I might rotate you in on third base."

"Thanks, Big T." Andy walked away and Pam dissolved in giggles.

"Pam, honestly!" Jim said in fake exasperation. "You're thirteen. Maybe twelve." Her giggles didn't faze him. He stood up and dusted off his pants. "I'm going to talk to Toby." He strode off.

Michael chose this moment to walk over to the ice chest and start rummaging through it.

"Those are for later," Angela said sharply.

"This is later," he said. He stood up with a soda in his hand and caught sight of Pam. "Miss Pammy! All set for our game?"

He hoisted himself up beside her on the table and popped the top. Soda spurted all over his pants and he leaped up. "Oh, no!" He grabbed a folded tablecloth and started dabbing at his crotch. "Pam, help me! Get some napkins!"

Angela looked at Michael with disgust. "I can't use that tablecloth now. It's been all over your ... " She gestured vaguely and turned away, scowling.

Pam handed Michael a handful of paper napkins but he handed them back, gesturing at his crotch. "You do it. It's soaking in."

"Michael, I am not going to rub your pants."

"Pam!"

"No." Pam marched off towards the backstop before Michael could press her further.

In the infield, Darryl yelled and pointed at the parking lot. A Vance Refrigeration truck was pulling into the lot, followed by two more vans. Their opponents had arrived.

It took the Vance Refrigeration Victors team half as much time to get ready. While Bob Vance of Vance Refrigeration argued with Michael about who was home team and who was visitor, the Vance team set up two portable picnic tables with food, water and equipment on the other side of the oak tree. The team all wore matching team jerseys and dispersed to their batting practice without discussion. Soon their batters were hitting softballs into the outfield with monotonous regularity.

Jim finally wandered back and sat down beside Pam, chewing on the end of the pencil and frowning over the lineup. Pam saw Darryl and Lonny looking at one another and shaking their heads.

"They're probably wondering if they can switch sides," Pam said.

Jim shrugged, and she felt his shoulder move against hers. She could feel the heat of his body through her sweatshirt. "Too late now," he said. He looked sideways at her. "Besides, they don't know about our secret weapon."

Pam grinned. "You haven't told anyone?"

"Pam, you wound me. I wouldn't blow this surprise for anything." Jim looked past her. "Who's this? Oh, I don't believe it!"

Pam looked where he was looking. "That should be our League umpire. He ... oh, no. You're kidding!"

Others had caught sight of the newcomer. "Devon?" Meredith said in disbelief.

The tall, sandy haired man strode up, carrying an equipment bag on his shoulder. "Hi, guys."

"Wow," Jim said. He stepped forward, extending a hand. "Good to see you, man."

Others crowded around to greet their former co-worker. Pam glanced over to where Michael was still arguing with Bob Vance.

"This is going to be interesting," Jim said in her ear. She turned her head and found his face inches from hers.

"Yeah," she said softly.

"He'll be standing over you for most of the game," Jim said. "You still want to catch?"

Pam shrugged. "There's no one else to do it," she said.

Jim clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Michael's coming. Here we go."

She was very aware of the warmth of Jim's hand on her shoulder. Michael and Bob Vance, Vance Refrigeration walked up.

"Okay, guys, Vance Refrigeration is -- hey! What are you doing here?" Michael did a double take on sighting Devon.

Devon grinned evilly at his former boss. "Hello, Michael."

"This is all wrong! He can't referee this game!" Michael said loudly.

"Why not?" Bob Vance said, looking from Devon to Michael with a puzzled expression. "He umpired our game last week against Cuggino's."

"Because he used to work for us!" Michael said.

Dwight, coming up behind Michael, glared at Devon. "That's right. Michael fired him. He won't be objective."

"Oh, come on," Bob Vance said, clearly annoyed. "It's too late to get another umpire."

"Can't we switch with another game?" Andy said. He nodded at the next ball field, where an all-men's game was setting up.

"Different division," Devon said smugly. "And if you think I'll throw a game because of you, Michael Scott, you're crazy. It's me or nobody. How about the rest of you?" He looked around.

Dwight scowled at him but most of the DunderHeads shrugged.

"He's fine with me," Bob Vance said. "Can we get this game on?"

"We will not play if he's the umpire," Michael said.

"Then we forfeit," Jim said patiently.

"Fine! We'll just ... we can play anyway."

"No, we can't. Michael--" Darryl started.

"If you don't use me, it won't be an official league game," Devon said. He pulled out a small notebook and turned pages. "You want me to log this as a forfeit?"

A chorus of denials from the DunderHeads stopped him.

"Come on, Michael, we all came out today for this," Darryl said angrily. "If this game ain't gonna count, I'm outta here."

Michael glowered and looked at the ground. "Fine," he said in a barely audible mutter.

Bob Vance clapped his hands. "Good. Let's play ball!" Without waiting for an answer, he turned and strode back to his team.

Devon grinned and swung his equipment bag off his shoulder. "Who's got the lineup?"

It took another quarter hour to calm Michael down while the teams set up for the game. The Vance Refrigeration team were to lead off the inning. They lounged in place behind the backstop, joking and laughing while Team Dunder was still organizing themselves.

Pam was searching through a pile of equipment for her face mask when Phyllis Vance walked up, smiling uncertainly. "Hi, Pam."

"Hey," Pam said.

Michael blinked when he saw the Vance Victors jersey on Phyllis. "Phyllis? Oh, no! You can't be playing for them! We're your team!" he said in dismay.

"Oh, I can't play against Bobby," Phyllis said.

"But he's the enemy!"

"He's my husband, Michael," Phyllis said, stone-faced.

"But--"

Jim took Michael by one arm. "Time to take the field," he said. "You're in right field, okay?" He steered a still protesting Michael to right field.

"This is going to be a fast game," Devon said to Pam as she walked up to home plate.

"Not necessarily," she said. She had never really known Devon well, and didn't like his smug attitude now. "We might surprise you."

"Sure," Devon snickered.

Pam slipped the catcher's mask over her face. Meredith walked up and dropped a pitcher's mitt onto the ground in front of her. She started stretching and grunting. "Been a while," she said. She nodded to Devon, then looked at Pam. "You ready for this?"

"Absolutely I am," Pam said, squatting down.

"Okay, then." Meredith grunted as she touched her toes.

A tall man with big shoulders in a Vance's Victors jersey strode up to the plate. "We ready?" he said.

Devon pulled his mask down onto his face. "Play ball."