"Ughhh," Pam groaned, as the alarm clock rang an hour earlier than usual. She swatted at it to try to turn it off, but missed. When it magically turned itself off, she propped herself up on her elbows to look at how it had done that and was greeted with a pyjama-clad Jim holding the off button down. "Why are you up?" she croaked, sinking back down into the pillows and trying to pull the comforter up around her neck. 

"Because I get to open the first envelope," Jim said, practically bouncing on his heels. "Come on, get up." He tried to pull the covers away, but Pam steadfastly held onto them. 

"No," came her muffled reply. "Five more minutes."

"Ugh, you're the worst. Ok, I'll bring it in here," he conceded, before practically running down to the living room and back up with the advent calendar. He plopped himself down cross legged on his side of the bed, pushing the covers out of the way, much to Pam's chagrin, and opened the large card on his lap. He pulled out the envelope labelled ‘one' and quickly opened it, pulling out a postcard that had been decorated with a candy cane motif. In the centre of the card was Pam's neat curly handwriting. "Letting Dwight have his pens only causes him gains. Swap them all out with some striped candy canes," he read out.

"Go look in my closet," Pam said, just about having woken up due to Jim's excitement. He grinned and leapt up like a labrador to run to find what was waiting for him. "Behind my skirts," she shouted to him.

He walked back, holding an old Hammermill box, filled with Christmas treats. He placed it on the bed and started rifling through it. "So today's prank, is to replace all of Dwight's stationery with candy canes? Isn't that kinda like just when we did it with crayons?"

"Well, kinda. But with that he could still at least write," she shrugged. 

"Oooh, Beesly, you are ruthless," he laughed. 

"Besides, it was a good prank, and you've recycled pranks before."

"Oh yeah, like what?" 

"My CIA one? You did that again like two months ago."

"Oh yeah," he laughed, rummaging around in the box again, his hands brushing over  

Pam laughed as she tried to nudge him off of the bed with her leg. "Alright, you better get going if you're gonna set everything up. I'll see you there?" she asked, sinking back down into the pillow and pulling the comforter up around her chin.

"Alright," he laughed, before placing a kiss in her hair, pretty much the only part of her that was visible.

--

"Morning Dwight," Jim called brightly, as Dwight walked behind him to sit down at his desk. 

"Why are you in so early?" Dwight asked suspiciously as he sat down and placed his briefcase on his desk. He opened it and took out his stapler and placed it in his drawer, before closing his briefcase and putting it on the floor underneath his desk.

"Just want to try and get in some extra sales. You know, we missed some time from the party on Friday, and I don't want to get behind," Jim lied.

"I see," Dwight said, as he turned his computer on, seemingly not noticing that his usual silver pencil cup had been replaced with a Santa mug, full of candy canes. Or that the pile of papers that usually sat to the right of his keyboard, directly in front of his phone, had seemingly disappeared and been replaced with a side of a gingerbread house. Or the small pile of sugar cookies that had replaced his ink stamp. "That is very conscientious of you."

"So how was your weekend?" Jim asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Jim, if you are here to work early, I suggest you call your clients, rather than make idle chit-chat with me," Dwight said, his eyes never leaving the screen. 

"You got it," Jim smiled at Dwight's profile. He picked up the phone receiver and dialled a number, just as Pam walked into the office. ‘Hi,' he mouthed to her, the phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder.

"Good morning Dwight," Pam called as she sat down at reception. 

"I'm sure it will be," he replied, not looking up from his screen as he continued to hit buttons on his keyboard. Jim and Pam glanced at each other and tried to stifle their growing smiles. "What are you two idiots smiling about?" Dwight asked, eyes still trained on his monitor. 

"Oh just something from the weekend," Pam began. "We were at the..." 

"Don't care," Dwight rudely interrupted as he picked up his phone receiver and dialled a number. "Good morning. This is Dwight Shrute. May I speak to Mr Green please? Yes, I'll hold." He went to reach for a pen, but instead grabbed a candy cane. It was only when he brought it over to where he should have been able to write on an order form that he noticed the order form was missing and he was not holding a pen. "What is..." Dwight trailed off, as he dropped the candy cane and let the receiver fall to his lap. He glanced around his desk, finally noticing the Santa cup full of candy canes and the small pile of sugar cookies. "Where is my stuff? What is going on?" Jim just shook his head and put his finger in his ear as if to block Dwight out from the call he was having. "Jim, I know this was you, give me back my...," he trailed off as he heard a voice coming from the other end of the line in his lap.

"...llo? Dwight, are you there?" Mr Green said through the receiver.

"I'm here. Apologies for that, there must be a problem with the line. Now, I see from your last order three months ago that you must almost be out of the premium colour copy paper, and wondered if you would like to restock today?" He paused to listen to the voice on the other end of the phone. "You would? Great. Let me just get my...dammit Jim. No, no. Not you Mr Green. Could you just give me one moment please?" Dwight pressed the receiver to his chest as tried to lean over Jim's desk to snatch a pen. 

Jim covered his own receiver with his hand and ‘tsk'd' at Dwight. "Dwight, I'm on call, this is unprofessional." 

"Gimme that," Dwight said as he lunged again, but Jim wheeled himself and his pencil cup backwards, just out of reach. "Ughh," he grunted. He picked up the phone again to talk to Mr Green. "I'm very sorry about that," he said, looking around his desk. He picked up the small white squeezy tube of frosting, and placed the phone on his shoulder and lent on it with his head to keep it in place. "So how many boxes would you like to order?" he asked as he unscrewed the small cap from the tube and tried to squeeze out the number 20 onto the piece of gingerbread. "And is there anything else?" He paused again as Mr Green carried on talking. "Ok, four boxes of premium cardstock." He squeezed out a large four. "Great, I'll get those processed and shipped to you today. Yup. Yes. And happy holidays to you too."

Dwight slammed down the phone and glared at Jim. "What?" Jim asked. 

"Just give me back my pens and order forms. I can't work like this, idiot," Dwight said.

"Um, can't do that," Jim said. "I don't have your stuff."

"I know it was you," Dwight said as the phone began to ring at reception. "Give me a pen before I tell Michael."

Dwight's extension rang, and Pam peered over her desk, nodding for him to pick it up. "I have Mr Powers returning your call from last week." 

Dwight sighed and picked up the receiver before trying one last attempt to grab a pen from Jim's desk. "Good morning Mr Powers," he said dejectedly, as he picked up the tube of icing and unscrewed the cap.