When Jim awoke the next morning, he reached out for Pam, but was surprised to find the bed empty. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around the room, as if hoping to catch her from her hiding place or something, but to his dismay, didn't find her. He pulled back the covers and slipped on his pyjama pants, before padding downstairs in search of his fiancée. "Beesly?" he called out as his feet reached the bottom of the stairs. 

"In here," Pam called from the living room. Jim wandered in and found her sitting on the floor surrounded by presents, gift wrap and bows. She looked at him with a small smile.

"Why are you wrapping presents at seven in the morning?" he asked as he sat down next to her on the floor and pulled him towards her for a hug, pressing a kiss into her hair.

"I've been up since six," she yawned into his bare chest.

"Why?" he mumbled.

"Because there are so many presents for your family," she laughed, gesturing to the mess currently occupying their living room floor.

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "Want a tea? Want me to help?" 

"Tea? Yes please. Help? No thank you," Pam replied as she reached for the next gift. "I'll only need to rewrap everything," she laughed.

"So rude," Jim said with a shake of his head and a smile as he pushed himself up on the floor. He returned five minutes later with two steaming mugs in his hand and the envelope with ‘eleven' written on it, tucked under his armpit.

"Thanks," Pam smiled as she took the mug from him in both hands, before placing it on the floor next to her.

Jim took his seat back on the floor, carefully placing his mug of coffee on the low table to his left that Pam had pushed out of the way. He pulled the envelope out from under his arm and tore it open. A drawing of Dwight tucked up in bed, snoring away, took up the corner of the card. "This week we've pushed Dwight's knopf," Jim read out. "Sorry, what's a knopf?"

"Oh, it's german for button," Pam said as she tore off a piece of tape from the dispenser.

"Right. Of course," he nodded. "This week we've pushed Dwight's knopf, let's give him an extra day off," he continued before looking up at Pam. 

"This is an easy one, we're telling Dwight he's got an extra day of vacation for Christmas Eve," she grinned. 

"Oh thank god, I'm kinda exhausted from all this pranking," he laughed. Pam scowled at him before pushing him backwards into a pile of discarded packaging, but Jim was too quick and took her with him, pulling Pam flush against him. After a few moments of wrestling and tickling, the present wrapping was long forgotten.

--

"Morning Michael," Pam said cheerfully from reception just after 9am as Michael walked in the door, but he held his finger up and then flapped his arms about as if to shush her. She got up and walked over to where he was standing, doubled over, just out of sight of the main office. "What's wrong?" Pam whispered, crouching down to try to see his face.

"I got injured skating yesterday. Some stupid kids were playing tag and I joined in and when I went to catch one of them, he ducked and I went into the side. I hit it so hard. That's what she said," he groaned in pain.

"Oh Michael," Pam soothed. "Want some help getting to your office?"

"Can you create a distraction? I don't want people to know I'm injured."

Pam thought for a split second. "What about if we told people you've been sick, but you really needed to come in today. So that's why you're doubled over, but that people should leave you alone?"

"Pamphlet!" Michael exclaimed, standing up but then doubling backover in pain. "You're just full of great ideas. Ok, help me to my office." As they made their way to Michael's office, completely ungracefully and incredibly attention drawing, the whole bullpen watched the spectacle. Once she'd settled Michael in his office, Pam closed the door and made an announcement to everyone. "Hey guys, Michael's still really sick from yesterday but needs to be in today. No one should speak to him unless it's absolutely necessary. Alright?" Everyone mumbled their agreement, apart from Dwight who stood. "Dwight, what are you doing?" she asked. 

"As Michael's number two," Dwight began. 

"I'm the number two buddy," Jim interrupted.

"Well, as Michael's best friend, I need to make sure he's ok."

"I really wouldn't disturb him," Pam warned. "He seemed really sick, and you don't wanna get vomited on, do you?"

"I guess not, no," Dwight finally relented as he slunk down into his chair. 

--

Just as Dwight hung up his phone from a sales call, Pam stood from her desk and turned to the fax machine. She read the fax that had just been sent through before folding it up into a small square and slipping it into her palm, and covering it with her cardigan sleeve. She walked by Jim's desk and dropped the paper onto his desk, but it bounced off and landed on the carpet. She immediately bent down to pick it up and thrust it into Jim's lap, before running off to the bathroom.  

"What's that?" Dwight asked, peering over Jim's desk.

Jim looked down at the paper in his lap and immediately crumpled it up. "Um, nothing, nothing at all," he replied.

-- 

"So finish the Christmas shopping? And then go get some lunch at Cugino's maybe?" Jim asked Pam as he made her a cup of tea in the kitchen.

"Sounds great. But I definitely want to sleep in," she replied. 

"But we need to get out there and hit the shops before the crowds go crazy." 

"Idiots," Dwight said as he passed by them from the bathroom. "You can't finish your Christmas shopping on Christmas Day." 

"We're not going to Dwight," Jim replied, confused. 

"How are you going to shop then have lunch tomorrow then? It's a work day, idiot," Dwight said before walking out of the kitchen. 

-- 

"...sounds great to me," Pam trailed off as Dwight entered the breakroom at lunch time. She looked down at her sandwich, as Jim quickly gulped from his can of grape soda. 

"What are you two idiots talking about?" Dwight demanded as he sat down at the table next to them. 

"Nothing, forget it," Jim said, moving the crumpled fax off of the table.

"Tell me or I'll tell Michael."

"We can't disturb Michael, remember?" Pam said. She gave Jim a sideways glance and raised her eyebrow slightly.

"Can you keep a secret?" Jim asked quietly, leaning towards Dwight.

"Of course. Shrutes are known for their covertness," Dwight replied quietly, looking around the empty breakroom.  

"Ok, so," Pam began. "A fax from Corporate came through before that was marked top secret, and it says that they're going to give us the day off tomorrow for Christmas Eve. But no one is allowed to know just yet."

"Why not?" Dwight asked.

"Here look," Jim said, passing the fax to Dwight. "It says they're going to announce it today at 4.55pm, they just don't want anyone slacking off before then."

"Makes sense. Most of the people here would leave now if they had half the chance," Dwight added as he took the memo from Jim and examined it. "Does Michael know? This was obviously for him." 

"I'm not sure we should disturb him with this. The excitement might be too much for him, what with his sickness and all. And also, Michael can't keep a secret in the slightest," Jim said. 

"So we should probably keep it between ourselves? Until Corporate announces it, right?" Pam suggested. 

"Well, that won't be an issue for me. I'm going on a sales call at 4pm today and I won't be back in the office for the rest of the day."

"Well that works out perfectly," Jim smiled, before taking a sip of grape soda.

--

At 3.58pm, Dwight put his belongings into his briefcase and closed it, before standing and tucking his chair under his desk. "Goodbye Jim," he said loudly. "See you tomorrow." 

"Yes you will," Jim said, leaning back in his chair with a smile.

"Goodbye Pamela," Dwight said as he passed by reception to pick up his coat. "Have a Merry Christmas," he whispered to her.