Now that she had come to grips with the reality that the supernatural had indeed occurred, the task at hand was to figure out exactly when they were in time.

Her only clues so far were her watch and the carpet, conclusively making it at least two days earlier. Packer had not yet snuck in to leave the hysterical package that would ruin Michael’s carpet and Pam’s next day.

She thought back to where she was the day before yesterday, in the Poconos having a romantic getaway with Roy.

God, how she wished she were still there instead of here in Michael’s office with a throbbing foot, a slight bit of nausea strangely mingled with extreme hunger, her boss to babysit, and the mystery of what day it was to solve.

It was a good trip; in fact, the mini vacation had provided a much-needed break after the busy holiday season and she quite enjoyed the time spent with her future husband. With no distractions from his brother, the boys, or the Eagles, his attention was only split between her and the skiing, perhaps the reason she hardly got annoyed with him at all during the time they were away. There was the one incident on the blue slope, but that at least got her some sympathy and an excuse to head back to the room early, where they ordered room service and he even watched an old movie with her while she iced her bruised leg.

They almost took the full week but decided to cut the trip back because with the wedding five months away they would need those extra vacation days for the honeymoon. They had yet to decide on the destination but it was the one thing Roy seemed excited to talk about. They had it narrowed down to Hawaii or Mexico, not that they could afford either one, but Roy said they’d figure it out. It was pretty much a given, since Roy always got his way, they’d wind up in Cancun. She supposed that was okay, she preferred margaritas and tacos to mai tais and roast pig anyway.

Being back two days already felt like two weeks between the incident with the carpet, the day of complaints and now this.

Continuing on her hunt for clues, she looked out to where she would be sitting had she not been off on her vacation. It followed that she wasn’t there at reception, but then again neither was anyone else. The office seemed empty. All was quiet aside from the rustling she heard from behind her, which she turned to see was Michael on all fours, caressing the carpet under his desk.

Turning back to the bullpen, this time she did notice something moving. She could swear it was coming from behind the copier and upon a more attentive glance she caught the tip of a lens directed towards the conference room which swiftly panned to shift its focus in her direction.

She quickly jumped back out of sight from the window catching one more glimpse of her own desk as she did.

Her monitor was on the right, back in the original spot before she moved it to the position where it could block Michael's face. On her first day back having to see his mug all day instead of Jim's, after he had commandeered the workspace of her friend, was not the thing she'd been looking forward to so she carefully maneuvered her screen so she wouldn’t have to. Today, or the day it had been before she wound up in this mess, she had shifted it back but found an angle that was less taxing on her neck, especially when focused on it for longer stints, as when playing solitaire or as over the last few days while searching the Internet for florists and bridesmaid dresses.  Plus, in the new spot, she could more easily glance up to see her friend after he had returned to his rightful place, five feet away and directly in her line of sight.

The computer, of course.

If the watches had shifted, it would follow the computers would also be reflective of the current time, and more importantly the current date. Pam started for Michael’s desk, noticing he was no longer under it but was instead headed for the office door to step out in the bullpen.

Shit, what is he doing?

“Michael,” she hissed in the loudest whisper she could extract, not wanting anyone but him to hear her call him back. 

The caution she took speaking his name alerted her to the mic pack that was still attached to her waist.

Does this mean they know?

It was a concern, a huge one but first she had a bigger problem to worry about, because if she didn’t get Michael back into his private office, he could potentially run into himself and completely freak himself out.

“Come back in here and close the door. In fact, lock it.”

For once, Michael listened to her and did just as he was told. Once secured safely inside she held up the amplifying apparatus she just removed and motioned for him to do the same.  Once more, he obediently followed her directions, as if he were Dwight and she the boss, and handed her the contraption.

“You can’t just go off running into the bullpen. Do you know what would happen in your other self saw you?”

“No, what?”

Pam hesitated. She wasn’t entirely sure herself; the movie didn’t go too deep into the consequences but it had been a while since she’d read the book which she had to guess had more of an explanation.

“Well, I’m not sure but according to Hermione, it’s bad,” Pam firmly warned him. “It’s a good thing it’s the weekend.”

Pam deduced it was Saturday or Sunday. Why else would the place be so empty at eleven in the morning?

Then she remembered the camera she had spotted earlier. There was no reason the crew would be here when the staff wasn’t.

Recalling the spy hidden behind the copy machine was the catalyst to bring back her insights, which seemed to be lagging a bit behind her body arriving at the current time zone. Of course, there was explanation why the place was empty on a work day, she’d forgotten her bosses’ penchant for conference room meetings.

But even that didn’t give her any more of a hint to the date since they were crowded into the room next door more often than they weren’t.

Following through on her original course to check the computer she at last made her way to the desk while Michael as directed locked the mic packs in his safe in the armoire beside it.  

She shimmied the mouse to wake up the PC and the image that sprang to life on the screen caused her to jump back from the shock of it. It was a pair of breasts, and not the most attractive ones either.

What assaulted her eyes was not your typical Internet porn or centerfold model or even a hot, young celebrity. Instead, the wilting, pale white bosom, one side sagging just a bit more than the other, appeared to belong to a middle-aged woman and not someone she would expect Michael would find appealing in the least, certainly not someone he would go clicking about on the web to look at. If breasts were his thing, and from his comments she was largely confident they were, there were plenty of sites that featured what she expected he was into. She knew because on the rare occasions she had to drop by Kevin’s desk, she caught a glimpse of what occupied his free time instead of solitaire and minesweeper. As his reflexes were about as fast as his ability to calculate sums in his head, when he finally minimized his window, she was already on her way out of his corner imagining what Angela would think if she only knew about the smut featured on the reverse side of the monitor that sat behind the glass partition separating their work spaces.

Michael, she was fairly sure, knew about the Girls Gone Wild site and had to be well aware of all the dirty web pages available out there in cyberspace, so she had to wonder whose chest this was. Her own slow reflexes, still not what they were before the cosmic shift, hadn’t yet picked up it was not a website she was looking at but a photograph.

It wasn’t until her gaze roamed down to the filmstrip below the enlarged preview pane, that she was clued in to the owner of the amorphous breasts and the event where it was taken.

On the lineup featuring smaller versions of the shots also in the folder, was a bored Jim and a blank-staring Ryan, both which could have been captured at any time, but the rest of the assembly, the raucous and wide-mouthed smiles on Phyllis and Meredith, the lampshade candid and the image of a very drunk Todd Packer, his bald head shrouded with blue silly string, these were unmistakably from a very specific time and place.

She distinctly remembered the recent Christmas party as one of the best ever. It was not because of Yankee Swap, in truth that almost made it the worse, or the abundance of alcohol consumed, or the falling snow that saw them off to an impromptu snowball fight and the promise of a white Christmas, but rather because of the very special gift she got from her dear friend, Jim.

A simple teapot.

As far as gifts went, it wasn’t fancy or expensive or even something she thought she needed or wanted, but when she opened it, she immediately knew who it was from, how much thought went into it and how much that someone, Jim, truly knew her. Giving up the chance to get it back had been foolish, and she was almost ashamed at how she allowed herself to be lured by the iPod, which would have also meant giving up on sharing his, whenever he had new tunes he was excited to play for her.

Even without the bonus gifts that were inside, but exponentially because of them, the present let her know that he cherished their friendship as much as she did and she could always count on that. It was the validation she wasn’t alone in the feeling there was an extra special bond between them, that they were a team that together could endure all the madness that went on in their office and that she could turn to him with just about anything.

But could she tell him about this?

She shook off the thought, deciding that that trust was one thing, sharing her most personal feelings was not going to scare him off, but this was something else, and as much as he would want to believe her and even if he did, well again, she wasn’t sure what could come of it.

Guess she was stuck on her own with this one, except for Michael, which was as good as being on her own.

She glanced up at him, discovered him munching on some kind of oats or cereal from a Ziploc bag that despite her hunger looked rather unappealing and set back to the mission of getting her bearings as to how many days back they’d journeyed. Turning back to the breasts she shuddered again at the sight of them.

Well at least we’ve stayed within a month’s time. 

She minimized Meredith’s boobs and when she saw the web page that was open behind it, she barely had to look at the date on the corner of the screen to know what day it was. The website that advertised the Lake Wallenpaupack Princess made the vessel they would board later that evening look much grander than it was. This she knew, because despite not having yet boarded the ship for their team building event in the present timeline, for the Pam experiencing today’s date again, the booze cruise had happened in the past.

So that’s where we are.

Pam shuffled beyond where Michael was still rummaging in the cabinet and put her ear to the wall and sure enough she could hear the other Michael revealing the details of their quarterly excursion to a chorus of groans.

With memories a bit hazy of how long they actually stayed in the meeting some two weeks ago, she decided they didn’t have much time. It wouldn’t be long before the gathering would break and everyone would retreat to their rightful spaces, which included the original Michael to his office, where she and the duplicate Michael currently were. They would need to vacate and soon.

“Michael,” she said as she turned back to where he had now moved on to a can of Pringles that he had stashed alongside his spare clothes, deodorant and Carnac turban, devouring the chips in stacks bigger than his mouth and leaving crumbs all over his suit, “you took us back more than two weeks. It’s January fourth, the day of the cruise on Lake Wallenpaupack. We’re all in the conference room and you’re telling us about it.”

"Awesome sauce. Tell me, do I know how to time travel or what? Not only do we get to go cruising again, that's what she said, but this time I can stop that guy from jumping overboard and I won't get banished by Captain Jack so I can stay and enjoy the last hour below deck instead of in the brig."

Not likely, Pam thought to herself. Two Michaels on board could only mean twice the trouble, not less.

Besides, she could think of a thousand other reasons why it was best they stayed far away from the boat tonight but she didn’t have time to argue with him now. They were running out of time before they came out of the conference room.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. We really ought to lay low and not be anywhere near our other selves. Speaking of which, we need to get out of here before we,” she pointed at the dividing wall between the two rooms, “get out of there.”

“Okay, let’s go to lunch. I’m ravenous.” Michael spoke while still shoveling the Pringles in his mouth.

All too aware of the rumbling and empty feeling in her own belly, Pam decided she could eat, in fact was anxious to get some food soon. Transcending time, it seemed expended a lot of energy and she surmised the trip must have depleted the stores from what felt like her last few meals. The Pringles, even if he had offered her some, which he didn’t, wouldn’t be enough to sate her stomach, currently protesting it’s emptiness.

Besides they had to devise a plan for how to go about their time until they somehow melded back into themselves. On top of her list of things to do was to read the section of the book again that could elaborate how that would happen. But first they needed to get away from the Dunder Mifflin offices.

“I’ll take you to Chili’s.”

“Have you forgotten? I’m still banned.”

“Okay, Hooter’s then.”

Pam glared at him.

“Cugino’s?”

Thinking back on the day, she tried to recall if anyone had left the office at lunch. Upon deciding that they had all stayed in that day, she nodded her acceptance.

“Sure, but we need to leave now, before we get caught.”

Once more she peeked through the blinds. Seeing nobody about she slowly opened the door and craned her head around to see if it was safe to venture out.

“Come on,” she called back to Michael who was still fiddling in the armoire, “the coast is clear.”

The tiptoed from the room, staying close to the window, slinking around the chair and along the wall to arrive where everyone’s outwear was piled onto a single coat rack. Sifting through the layers of wool, acrylic and Goretex puffers, she found hers towards the bottom and began to put it on when it dawned on her, there were two of her but only one coat. It was at that same instant that Michael realized he left his back in his office.

“I forgot mine, be right back,” and he started creeping back the way he came.

Using a parental-sounding, but softly whispered bark, she called him back.

“Michael, never mind that. We can’t take them. Remember about our other selves. We can’t leave them with no outerwear in 30-degree weather. Not to mention, can you imagine the mystery the missing coats would stir up. Dwight would launch a full-scale investigation...”

The opening of the conference door stopped her mid-sentence. Throwing the coat back up on the rack, with hopes her aim was better than normal, it wasn’t, she pushed Michael towards the exit and the two of them made it out the front door just in the nick of time.

---

Pam and Jim trailed Meredith, still fist pumping, and Kelly, still grumbling about her new bathing suit, out of the conference room. They themselves were still giggling about pretending to have never seen Titanic. When Jim told her about what he intended to say in his next private interview, she snorted with delight and just about fell over in stitches as she pictured Michael at the front of the boat yelling ’I’m King of the World’.

“Oh, oh I can’t breathe,” she choked out as she doubled over in hysterics.

Her laughter contagious, Jim found himself cackling in an uncontrollable fit too as they neared her desk and discovered her coat on the floor.

“Look, Beesly, you laughed so hard you shook your coat right off the rack.”

This innocuous statement put her over the edge, her whole body quivered with gleeful pleasure as her guffaws got louder. It took about ten minutes before they both came down from their giggle fit, the stares from Angela and reprimands from Dwight that this was an office not a comedy club, not doing much to suppress their mirth. It was only then that she thought more about the discovery at the foot of her desk.

‘That was strange’, she mused to herself. She was in early today so she was pretty sure her coat had been buried under the few other jackets that were placed there after. How was it hers had fallen and nobody else’s did and what had even caused it? She knew it wasn’t really her laughter.

She didn’t dwell on it long, there were a ton of voicemails to listen to when she got back to her spot behind the desk.

She soon forgot about the mystery as she began to play back what she missed while they were off in the conference room learning how none of the items they’d packed for tonight would be needed at all.

---

Pam wasn’t the only one who had noticed something strange that morning. Back in the nook off by the annex, Randall played back the scenes he’d just recorded while the rest of the crew was busy capturing the ridiculousness he could only assume he was missing in the conference room.

“Yup, just what I thought,” he murmured to himself.

Anyone else might have been freaked out at the discovery, but not Randall. It wasn’t the first time he’d detected time travelers from behind his lens.