“Oh Pamswain, there you are.”

Even seasick he couldn’t help himself from adding some silly tag to her name, this one surprising her at its cleverness, never mind he had the pronunciation wrong. He must have looked up nautical terms back a few weeks ago when planning this shindig and learned the meaning of coxswain, hoping to find some way to work in a that’s what she said joke over the course of the night.

He stopped and stared at her, his bloodshot eyes droopy and barely open. They scanned over her face like an art appraiser trying to determine the authenticity of a painting.

“I mean you are Pam, right? Like the real Pam?”

Unsure if she was real or any of this was, she still could have been dreaming after all, she understood the meaning behind his question. If she had been the other version of herself, she might have been confused, but she had to give him some credit for the care he took not to give anything away.

Nothing he said this time alluded to their time travel, but the thing with Michael was his ability to error on the next play after he was deemed safe in a close call.

Wait, did she just use a baseball analogy? Properly? Roy would be so proud. Jim, too. Of course, it would have to be in a situation she couldn’t tell either of them about.

As much as she still had a hard time following the rules and gameplay of them, she had learned a little something back in high school when she read up on the sporting events she felt duty-bound to attend and sit through on TV with Roy. As a result, she had enough of an understanding to keep up, when to this day she was forced to watch, if still not much of an interest in them.

But she did enjoy being able to show off what little knowledge she had, and while they both still laughed when she did, Jim’s amusement seeming more of the ‘with her’ variety, while Roy’s leaning a touch more towards ‘at her’, they both showed their pleasure at her attempts.

At present, or past, or future—whenever it was, it didn’t much matter because she couldn’t share with either of them since she was stuck in a bit of a pickle—another one, and it wasn’t even baseball season, that with the two versions of each of themselves running around in such close quarters.

That was dangerous she knew. Either she or Michael could wind up bumping into the wrong version of the other and how would they be able to tell. All Michael’s suits looked alike, and though she dropped her glance to memorize his tie so she could tell them apart, she was sure he would not be able to tell his two Pams from one another.

She decided they needed a code word, to be sure they were always dealing with the version they thought they were.

“Yes Michael. If you’re asking if I’m the Pam you dragged back in time with you, I am.”

For a moment she worried if she was talking to the right one of him but remembered Michael battling with Captain Jack for authority at this leg of the trip and skulking off after getting scolded by the ship’s true CO.

“I shouldn’t have to reiterate how important it is you stay out of sight tonight. You must not be seen, especially by your other self. You got that?”

Bringing his hand up to his sweaty face, he saluted her.

“Aye aye captain.”

With labored effort to be jovial in his ailing condition, he tried to chuckle as he added, “you see what I did there, right? You get it right? Wish I had my captain’s hat to put on your head for greater effect.”

The hat, that’s right; past Michael wore that costume skipper cap, that was an easy tell. Still, it came off at some point and besides she still wasn’t sure if everything that happened that night would play out as it had the first time, regardless of them being there. Who was to know if the butterfly effect made an impact from the minute the Time Turner created a second manifestation of the events they were reliving? Did their arrival mean things could and would go off course, even while they were hidden from view? Could just the fact that there were two more bodies on the ship tonight create a paradigm universe where Michael doesn’t cause a scene and nobody jumps overboard, but to her fear, where Roy doesn’t have his drunken conversation with Captain Jack and in turn, their engagement stays in the indefinite state of an endless wait.

Not wanting to think of that possibility, Pam instead turned her focus back to her peaked travel partner.

“Yeah Michael, I get it,” she answered thankful not to have any hat that had been on his, placed on her head.

“But I’m thinking you and I ought to have a codeword. So, if we do get separated again, we know we are dealing with the right one.”

This seemed to bring a little color back to his face and he clapped in delight.

“Secret spy stuff. I like it. How about paper? No, wait, shipwreck. No, life preserver.  Ooo, ooo, I’ve got a better one, Wallenpaupack, that’s fun to say. Wallenpaupack,” he repeated.

Pam waited until he got all his suggestions out of his system.

“Let’s make it simple but something we might not say anyway tonight,” Pam offered. “It should be Hermione.”

“Hermione,” he nodded and then threw up again.

---

The boat’s lower deck, where everyone was congregated, had a layout similar to that of Dunder Mifflin Scranton but unlike the bullpen and annex of their daily residence, the principal gathering area of the vessel was surrounded by booths and counters instead of offices and conferences rooms. Where their workplace was cross-sectioned by the kitchen, the ship’s hull was broken into two main areas by a central structure which housed the staircase to the upper deck, some storage facilities and small restrooms, the men’s starboard and women’s on the port side. The bar sat at the bow, mostly hidden from view by the center console, the other side of which was where the band was set up. Out in front of the band’s staging area was a small dance floor and that’s where the action took place on most cruising nights. Tonight, was no exception. Most of her colleagues were there, as were many of the other passengers on the ship waiting for the party to begin.  She couldn’t see what was happening as she made her way to the ship’s interior deck, but from memory she knew the music and games would be starting shortly, as soon as the captain came back from escorting Dwight away from the area.

The bar was not big by any means, room for only three to four people at most to stand and because it was at the ship’s front it tended to be a bit rockier than the midsection, so generally folks didn’t hover there. Outside was a small landing that Dwight had been banished to, but he remained with his back to the inside, focused instead on the seas he thought he was navigating.

With not many places to hide Pam stayed tucked behind a large column on the starboard side knowing there would be much more traffic by the ladies room. She narrowly missed being seen on her way down, lucky that aside from some of the non Dunder Mifflin guests, it was only Stanley who passed her as she arrived on the bottom step. He had nodded at her, apparently noticing nothing unusual that Pam was at the bar, when just seconds before she’d been sitting at the booth adjacent to Phyllis, him and his wife.

She bowed her head back at Stanley but swiftly ducked out of sight, just in case he all of a sudden became a less oblivious version of himself and put it together she was in two places at once. She waited behind the big pillar until the bar area was clear of any other Dunder Mifflinites, praying none would return back for another drink while she got a coke and a ginger ale for Michael, unsure which, if any, would help settle his stomach.

As annoyed as she was with him, she still felt somewhat sympathetic that he was feeling so ill, even if a part of her felt he more than deserved it. She was fine on this boat, but she’d experienced that kind of seasickness while out with Roy’s family on a fishing trip and knew how miserable it could be. Roy’s response during that outing was to toss her a Coke from the cooler, which after she let it sit so it would not explode on her and after her annoyance that he couldn’t at least walk it over to where she sat immobilized due to the extreme nausea subsided, did help settle her stomach a bit.

Waiting for her chance to get to the bar took longer than she thought. Every time she thought she had a window, someone else would pop in, first Meredith, then Kevin, then Kelly, who took forever to order. It was without a doubt, because the poor guy behind it had to explain to her multiple times that beer, soda and wine were free but elaborate, fruity mixed drinks were not and they didn’t even have a blender for the frozen cocktail she was insisting on. In the end she walked off with some colorful concoction in a plastic cup. The bartender, she wagered to guess, was sick of hearing her whine and figured it was easier to appease her with some mix of cheap liquor and juice plus a slew of cherries and fruit wedges in order to get her out of his sight.

By the time Kelly was gone, Meredith was back, this time accompanied by Creed who began chatting with the bartender and was soon handed the silver shaker which he firmly tapped with his palm and agitated theatrically as if he were Tom Cruise in Cocktail.

She was beginning to think she might never get her opening and her concern at leaving Michael unattended was growing with each minute. Even in his diminished state, it was risky he might wander off and right into himself. As she waited for Creed to finish his mixology demonstration and for Meredith to order her drinks, the music shifted from the tropical vibes of the limbo song to a primal beat that she remembered clearly from the last time they were here, if only because Michael made a complete ass of himself with outlandish dance moves that were not quite in time with the syncopated musical rhythm.

From behind her hiding space, she could just about make him out trying to reproduce the earthworm, instead making a bigger fool of himself as he wiggled around on the ground.

She waited as Michael danced, turning inward to face the pillar when Brenda from corporate brushed past her in a rushed escape away from the craziness, so she wouldn’t be recognized. While pressed against the column could hear the chants and cheers begin, a signal that the snorkel had been brought out. That or Michael had simply stopped dancing

She knew as the party got into full swing and the shots began flowing, she herself would make her way to the bar for a second round. Watching Michael that night had her draining her own beer faster than usual, as if she were the one drinking embarrassment away. Of course, Roy downing half of hers after he knocked back his own, had something to do with the speed at which refills were needed.

Lucky for this Pam, Creed was finally on his way back to the dance floor, Meredith following behind and the coast was clear at last. She took one last look around before she slunk up to the bar ordered her sodas and disappeared up the stairs just in time.

 ---

Requiring another round after having been somewhat insulted by her fiancé, laughed at by Jim’s girlfriend and made to sit through Michael’s distasteful dance moves, she made her way back to the bar. Staying slightly buzzed was the one way she would get through tonight.

As she turned around the bend, out of the corner of her eye, she swore she spied a woman of average height wearing an eggshell-colored puffer making her way to the upper deck. The outerwear she wore looked so much like hers that she almost followed her up to check that it wasn’t. For a cold, Thursday night in January, there were a lot of people taking this cruise with them and she had to wonder what kind of people they were. Coat thieves, perhaps. In the end she decided that it had to be coincidence, her coat was hardly worth stealing and was safely tucked away behind the booth she’d been sharing with Jim and Katy since they first boarded. Instead, she turned to the bar and waited her turn to order two more beers for her and Roy.

---

With a coke-filled plastic cup in one hand and a ginger ale in the other she made her way back to the spot where she’d left Michael earlier. Big surprise, he wasn’t there.

Damn it, Michael. I told you to stay put.

Considering the condition he’d been in upon her going for the medicinal beverages she was a little surprised, but as she began to walk towards the front of the ship, she gained her clue as to what likely chased him from where he’d been convalescing. There on the deck below was Dwight, positioned at the helm, his posture ramrod straight, his attention front-focused, his hands gripped fiercely around the wooden wheel that she was fairly certain was only there to entertain any children aboard when the ship was chartered for private events and family excursions.

Of course, she’d seen Dwight there earlier while she waited by the bar but hadn’t put it together that she’d left Michael overlooking this same spot. From his vantage point with his back to the boat and his attention focused on the sea before him, he wouldn’t necessarily notice anyone behind him, but it was the flash of blonde that she glimpsed passing back through the doors that led back to the interior that was the thing that most likely forced Michael away. Angela, who noticed everything, would surely have seen her boss above her and been highly suspicious, if not outright freaked out at how he could possibly be up where he was while simultaneously acting a menace inside.

That was two mysteries solved, Pam thought, Michael’s disappearance and Angela’s grumpier than usual mood that Pam recalled from her earlier memories of the night, although the latter could have been caused by almost anything.

With Angela gone and not as worried Dwight might see her, she lingered a moment following his gaze off into Lake Wallenpaupack. Hypnotized by the vision, the reflection of the moon cast on the water was a scene she might have liked to sketch had circumstances been different. Tonight, however she hadn’t a pencil or paper and the bright orb’s glow on the surface was a gentle reminder of her own mirror image that was newly experiencing this night on the floor beneath her and set her back to her mission to make sure Michael Two did not affect the event that was to come for Pam One.

Knowing why Michael had moved didn’t get her any closer to finding where he traveled off to, so she retreated from the bow and continued her hunt, looking under the benches and behind the storage crates and even in the little life boats towards the back. Not being able to find him after an extensive search could mean one of two things. He’d either fallen overboard or more likely he’d gone below. She started for the stairs but then memory stopped her in her tracks.

Her warped sense of time not helping things, she tried to piece together the order of events that had occurred two weeks ago. She knew she herself would eventually be making her way up here, escaping with Jim to take a breather from the rowdiness, chants of snorkel shots and her own fiancé becoming wildly out of control like he used to at the wild parties from their past.

She knew she had been kidding herself that night when she told Jim he didn’t really act like that anymore.  Both then and now, she was completely aware it wasn’t just that old behavior was surfacing because of the free beer and the reminder of high school, glory days brought up by Katy.

Even now, she remained in denial how it was a regular thing for Roy to drink heavily, become boisterous and disrespectful, and ignore her until later in the night when he suddenly would remember he had a fiancé because he got sentimental or horny. What was different on that night was she had Jim’s company, his date also partaking in the out-of-control activities.

Pam couldn’t take the risk of heading down to find Michael. On the staircase there’d be no way to avoid the upheaval that was sure to follow should she be both on her way down and up at the same time. If ever there was a time she wished she could fly, this was it as she knew of no other way she could get to the lower floor where Michael almost certainly on a collision course for disaster himself.

She was trapped, stuck up here until the uncomfortable interaction with her friend transpired, something she recollected hadn’t taken long. Things got weird quickly in a way they never had before with her best friend and that night she used the cold as an excuse to escape the awkwardness.

She’d have to hope both Michaels would be okay until then.

With nothing to do but hide, she tucked herself low on the last bench and waited.