The alarm clock blared, but Pam's hand quickly flew out to turn it off as she groaned loudly. "Why do we have to work?" she moaned as she rolled over and buried her head in Jim's bare chest.

"Because otherwise we'd have to live on the street in a cardboard box and you wouldn't be getting any presents for Christmas other than whatever I could find in the trash," Jim croaked back at her as he pulled her closer to him under the covers. 

"I think I'd be ok with that if it meant no more early morning wake ups." 

"Oh, ok then. I'll just go take your Christmas gifts back then," he smirked as he rolled backwards away from Pam slightly as if he were pretending to get out of bed. 

"Don't you dare," she laughed, pulling him back down into bed.  

Jim raised an eyebrow at her. "You can't have it both ways, Beesly."

"I'm just saying, those ones are already bought and sitting wrapped under the tree, it would be a shame to have to go all the way back to the store," she reasoned as she combed her fingers through his chest hair.

Jim just laughed and pulled her even closer in his embrace. "Speaking of which, let's go see what today's gift for Dwight is," he laughed. He threw back the comforter and pulled on his blue pyjama pants as Pam stayed in the bed and tried to cover herself back up. "Come on lazy bones," he said, trying to get her up.

"I'll meet you there. Open it without me," Pam said as she closed her eyes for five more minutes. 

--

"We're going to be so late," Pam said as she applied her makeup in the car while Jim drove them to the office. 

"You've said that like twenty times. It's not like it really matters," Jim said as he pulled up to a red light. "Michael is out today working on that big account," he said with air quotes, as they both knew that he was really finishing his Christmas shopping and ice skating as per his personal pre-holiday tradition, "and Andy seemed pretty sick yesterday so he probably won't be in. And it's not like Phyllis or Stanley care." 

"But Angela and Dwight are still there," Pam said carefully as she dabbed her lipstick in the mirror.  

"Crap, Dwight!" Jim exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel. "I forgot today's card in the rush." Pam pulled an envelope with ‘ten' written on it out of her purse and smiled at Jim. "Beesly, you're a genius." 

"Obviously," she laughed. 

Jim carried on driving for a few more minutes before he pulled into the parking lot. As soon as the car was in park, he grabbed the envelope that Pam had placed on the dashboard and ripped it open. "It's been a while since Dwight solved a cryptic mystery. Someone poisoned the gluhwein, who could it be?" he read out with a laugh, both at the riddle but also of the little cartoon of Dwight dressed in his elf clothes, holding a magnifying glass. "Wow, this should be a fun one. Come on, let's head upstairs and see what he makes of the situation."

"It's just such a shame he turned in that uniform," Pam said with a giggle as she opened her door.

--

"Where is Michael?" Dwight demanded as soon as Jim and Pam walked into the office.

"How should I know?" Jim replied as he took his seat at his desk. "We literally just got in."

"He's working on the Lackawanna Department of Health account today. He didn't want to be disturbed, remember?" Pam said as she picked up the phone to check the voicemails. "Oh wait, he's left a voicemail." She held the receiver firmly to her ear and concentrated on listening for a few moments. "He said he'd been puking his guts out all night, he's taking a sick day and no one under any circumstance, especially Dwight," she said, nodding her head forward, "is to contact him."

"That's so strange," Jim said, leaning back in his chair, "he seemed fine last night." 

"You saw Michael last night?" Dwight asked, a jealous tone clearly apparent in his voice, although he tried to hide it. 

"Yeah, we bumped into him at the Christmas market last night at the gluhwein stall," Jim explained. 

"It was so cute," Pam added. "We went with Jim's mom and dad, and then his sister and her new boyfriend joined us, it was a..."

"No one cares Pam," Dwight barked, interrupting her. "Michael is sick. I must care for him." He stood and went to grab his briefcase. 

"Uh, uh, uh. Remember what the voicemail said. Especially not you," Jim warned. 

Dwight slumped down in his chair and threw his briefcase under his desk. He busied himself with a sales report for a few minutes until he looked up and turned around. "And where is Andy?"

"Oh he left a voicemail too saying he was taking a sick day," Pam said quickly. "Seems like he was up vomiting all night too. Maybe there's something going around? He wasn't feeling great yesterday."

"That was a sore throat, that wouldn't cause vomiting," Dwight replied.

"Guess we'll never know then," Jim said as he opened a spreadsheet.

-- 

"Hey mom," Jim said as he picked up his phone. "How are you?" He paused to listen to his ‘mother' on the other end of the phone, and then loudly said, "you're sick too? That's so strange. You're like the third person that's been vomiting. How's dad?" He paused again. "Sick as well? Man, I hope you guys feel better." Jim replaced the receiver and glanced at Dwight out of the corner of his eye. 

"Your mom ok?" Pam asked as she walked over to Jim's desk and perched on the edge. 

"No, her and my dad are really sick."

"Oh no!" Pam explained. "But they were both fine yesterday. Maybe it was something that they ate at the market?"  

"No, couldn't have been. They ate before we met them," Jim said, clearly baffled. "The only thing I saw them have was a cup of gluhwein."

"Hmm, weird," she replied as she got up and walked back to reception, briefly glancing back at Dwight who, having taken off his glasses, was deep in thought. 

-- 

At lunch, Jim and Pam were sitting together, quietly eating their sandwiches, when Dwight walked into the breakroom. He pulled out a chair at the table next to them and sat down, throwing down his brown paper bag with his lunch in as he did so.  

"Oh Larisa just messaged me, she's sick too. Isn't this just crazy?" Pam said, loudly enough for Dwight to pay attention to. 

"Who's that?" Dwight demanded. "Did she have any of the gluhwein?"

"Larisa is my sister," Jim explained. "And, uh, yeah I think she did actually. Right Pam?" 

"Yeah, she bought some just after Michael did, remember? When we saw him in the queue," Pam prompted.  

"Oh yeah," Jim replied. "But we had some too though and we're ok? Weird huh?" 

"We got ours from the place with the green cups though, not the blue cups like everyone else," Pam added. And with that Dwight got up and left the break room with no explanation. 

"I think it's working," Pam whispered with a giggle to Jim. 

--

As Jim and Pam returned to the bullpen after they finished their lunch, they noticed that Dwight wasn't at his desk, but hovering behind reception at the fax machine.  

"Can I help you Dwight?" Pam asked as she took her seat.  

"No thank you, I'm waiting for a fax," he replied.  

"Well you know I can bring that over to you when it arrives," Pam said, turning on her computer.  

"No thank you. This is of the utmost importance."

"Dwight, I handle the sales faxes every day, I'm pretty sure I can deliver your fax when it arrives," she said as she hit a few keys on the keyboard.  

"‘Pretty sure' is not good enough Pamela. And besides," he looked around and lowered his voice, "this information is classified." 

"Oh really?" Pam asked, spinning around in her chair and getting up. "What is it?" 

Dwight looked around again. "Can I trust you?" Pam crossed her heart and nodded. "This is a list of every vendor from the Christmas market. I'm going to work out what is going on."

"Isn't it just that people got food poisoning?" she suggested.  

"Pam, don't be an idiot. You can't get food poisoning from gluhwein. First of all, it's a drink not a food. And second, you can't get drink poisoning from it because it's heated and any bacteria would be killed. If this list of vendors I'm waiting on shows what I think it will, then we can assume sabotage is involved." 

"Why would there be sabotage?" Pam asked. "It's just wine." 

"How dare you. Gluhwein is not just wine. Each family has their own recipe passed down from generation to generation. You don't want to know what the special ingredient in the Shrute family gluhwein is." Dwight leaned a little closer. "It's not entirely legal." Just then, the fax machine whirled to life before he could continue. Dwight grabbed the freshly warmed papers and immediately started scanning them with his eyes. "Just as I thought," he muttered to himself.  

-- 

Over the next hour, Jim and Pam did very little work as they watched Dwight through the blinds to the conference room as he frantically worked. He had a large map of the market printed out and spread over the table, while pictures of three men were taped to the wall, with various post it notes stuck to them. 

"I'm gonna go in," Jim whispered to Pam. "I'll take him a cup of coffee. Keep his energy levels up." 

"Good idea," Pam giggled.  

Jim made Dwight a black coffee and knocked on the conference room door. "Who is it?" Dwight shouted through the closed door. 

"Just me buddy," Jim replied as he opened the door. "I bought you a coffee." 

Dwight immediately strode over to where Jim was standing and knocked the cup of coffee out of his hand. "Trust no one," he said through gritted teeth. 

"Dwight, what is going on?" Jim said, looking at the spilt coffee all over the floor. 

Dwight pulled Jim closer inside the conference room by his arm and shut the door behind him. "I'm uncovering a world of scandal at the Christmas market like you wouldn't believe." 

"Yikes," Jim said as he took a sip from his own coffee. 

"Yikes indeed. And don't drink that, idiot," Dwight said pointing to Jim's red and white mug.  

"So what's going on?" Jim asked, putting his mug down and sliding it across the table.  

"Well, the festive market has always been dominated by two gluhwein stalls," Dwight began, "Hans & Family," he said, pointing to a black and white picture taped to the wall, before moving to the next photo, "and Braunschweig das Getränk." 

"Right," Jim said, filing his arms across his chest. 

"Now these businesses have always respected each other, and they stick to their own sides of the market. But, according to this list of vendors," Dwight said, holding up the list that was faxed over, "there's a new stall. And look," he said, pulling Jim by his shirt towards the table with the map on it, causing Jim to stumble slightly. "It's right here," he said, jabbing his finger to a point on the map that had been circled in red pen.  

"Woahh," Jim gasped. "It's right next to this other red circle."

"That red circle is Hans & Family. And guess what they have?" 

"Gluhwein!" Jim said with gusto. 

"No, idiot. Blue cups. The same ones that everyone who got sick drank from." 

"No," Jim said, feigning worry. "But that means." 

"Yes, Jim. Hans & Family's gluhwein has been poisoned!" 

"You've gotta do something with this information Dwight. You've got to go and save Hans," Jim said, pointing towards the door.  

"I'm coming," Dwight shouted as he ran out of the conference room and headed straight out of the office. 

Jim picked up his coffee from the table and walked out towards reception. "What was that about?" Pam asked as he leaned over her desk. 

"Oh he's figured out ‘who dun it' and he's off to shut the operation down," Jim smiled before taking a sip of his office. 

"Oh god, is he going to go and harass some poor market stall person?" Pam asked, her eyes wide. Her hand flew to cover her mouth that was agape with worry. 

"Oh no," Jim said, putting his coffee down. "Last night was the market's last date in Scranton. They're pitching up in Carbondale for tonight as we speak," he grinned.