"Ok, people," Michael shouted as he walked out into the bullpen, clapping his hands together. "Party time!"

"What are you talking about?" Angela asked as she stood up from her desk. "What party?"

"Kelly's birthday. I really shouldn't have to be telling you this Angela. You're the head of the Party Planning Committee," he said, visibly angered. 

"Her birthday isn't until Saturday. We're having her party on Friday afternoon. That's when the cake is ordered for," she replied, exasperated. 

"But I'm leaving at 1 o'clock Angela," Michael said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And?" 

"And we need to have the party now before I leave because I don't want to miss it," he shouted, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Michael, it's 10am. There's no way I can just throw a party together in the next two hours. Not to mention the fact that Kelly isn't even here today," she spat. 

"Well," Michael began, but stopped. "Fine. Have your stupid party on Friday without me." He looked down and muttered to the ground.

"Wait. You're not coming back for the rest of the week?" Kevin asked slowly. 

Michael just smiled sadly at Kevin with slightly watery eyes. "I'm gonna miss you Kevin." He looked around at the whole office who had stopped working to watch the shouting match between himself and Angela. "I'm gonna miss you all so much."

"It's only three days, Michael," Kevin stated.

"Maybe," Michael began to say but was cut off by Jim opening the door from the kitchen. 

"Are you sure you're ok Jim," Pam said loudly, following him out of the kitchen. "It sounded like you were throwing up in there."

"Yeah, I'm not feeling so hot," Jim replied, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. He walked over to his desk and Michael jumped backwards into his office from where he had been standing behind Jim's chair. 

"Nope, nope, nope, don't want to be sick forev...," he shouted as he slammed the door. 

Jim and Pam stood there looking at each other as everyone else resumed their work. "Wonder what that was about," Jim asked, looking through the open blinds into Michael's office. He could see Michael spraying Lysol around himself, which caused him to have a coughing fit.

Pam shrugged, raising her eyebrows and walked to her desk. "So you gonna head off soon?" she asked Jim quietly as she sat down and looked up at him.  

"Yeah," he whispered, leaning over her desk. "I'll be back at noon. Think you can sneak out then?" Pam nodded with a smile. "My dad's car is a blue Honda Civic. I'll park around the corner, right by the repair shop. So meet me there, ok?" 

"Sounds good," she smiled. 

Jim suddenly started coughing and started making retching noises. He winked at Pam, causing her to smile warmly, and briskly walked over to his waste paper basket. He leaned over it and made more vomiting noises.

Dwight pushed himself back from his desk and jumped out of his chair. "Jim, you need to leave right now," he shouted. "No one here wants you infecting them with your disease."

"I'm not diseased, Dwight," Jim said with a roll of his eyes as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"Please leave," Dwight repeated. 

"He's right Jim," Phyllis chipped in. "We don't want to get sick." 

"Alright," Jim said, grabbing his messenger bag from the back of his chair. "If you guys really think I should go home, I guess I will." He walked over to the coat stand and took his jacket down. "I guess I'll see you all tomorrow," he said loudly to the office. 

"You should stay away for at least 48 hours if you have a vomiting bug," Angela piped up. 

"If you say so Angela," Jim replied with a salute. "See you later Beesly," he smiled, rapping his knuckles on her desk. 

Pam tried to hide her smile as she watched him leave. After a few minutes, she got up and made her way over to Michael's office. She gently knocked on the door and waited for Michael to say ‘come in', before entering. She was greeted with Michael sitting at his desk, with one hand covering his mouth while the other covered his nose. "What are you doing?" she asked. 

"I don't want Jim getting me sick," came his muffled reply.

"Uh, Jim's gone home," she replied, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb. 

"What!" Michael exclaimed, dropping his hands. "He didn't even say goodbye!" 

"Well, you'd locked yourself in here and were spraying..." Pam trailed off as Michael began talking over her. 

"But I never got to tell him how much he means to me." 

"Uh, I'm sure you can tell him that on Monday," she said, knitting her eyebrows together. "Anyway, I'm leaving around noon today, so I just wanted to check if you needed anything before I go?" 

"Ugh, who is going to water my yucca plant now?" Michael whined, not listening to Pam. 

"I'll do it Michael," Dwight shouted, suddenly rushing into Michael's office. He held out his hand expectantly. "Give me your keys. I will water your plants. And collect your mail. I will stay at your condo and protect it."  

"Mmmm," Michael murmured, pressing his lips together. He looked up at Dwight standing there with his hand still open in the air. "Ok fine," he relented. "But don't sleep in my bed." He took his keys from his pocket and handed them to Dwight. 

"I will sleep on your couch," Dwight replied, slipping the keys onto his own keyring. 

"Noooope, not on the couch." 

"I will sleep on the floor." 

"Great. You'll need to bring your own food, the refrigerator is empty."

"I'll bring beets and horsemeat." 

"Gross. Keep it outside, ok?" 

Pam watched Michael and Dwight going back and forth as if it were a tennis match. She coughed slightly, causing both men to look at her. "I'm just gonna get back to my desk, but let me know if you need anything before I go. Otherwise I'll see you on Monday," she said as she backed out of the room. 

"Maybe," Michael called out after her, but Pam had already left his office.

-- 

"How much stuff did you bring?" Jim laughed a couple of hours later as Pam piled several bags into the back seat of his dad's car. 

"It's just one bag of clothes, my purse, and then a couple of snacks. It's gonna be a long journey, and it's not like we can stop for lunch unless Michael does," she explained as she settled into the passenger seat and clicked her seatbelt into place. 

Jim's stomach growled loudly. "You make an excellent point," he laughed. Pam reached behind for a bag of chips and tossed them to him. "Thanks," he smiled and opened the bag. Pam opened her own packet and popped a chip into her mouth. They both sat in silence eating, watching out for Michael. "So what disguises did you bring?" Jim smiled around a chip. 

"Just a hat and a red wig," she grinned. "And a hat for you." 

Jim was about to ask to see it when Michael's car suddenly appeared. "Michael!" he shouted, throwing his bag of chips to Pam. He immediately put the car into drive and stepped on the gas to follow Michael. 

"Slow down!" Pam yelled, clutching onto the grab handle. "He's gonna see us!" 

Jim eased his foot off the gas, keeping a comfortable distance from Michael's car, and once they were on the highway, Jim took his chips back. "So," he began, "how do you think he celebrates?" He popped a chip into his mouth and grinned.

"I think he goes to see the groundhog and then goes to some big screening of the movie. I bet there's a little group that goes every year," she said. "How about you?" 

"Honestly, I've no idea. Maybe Michael wears the groundhog mascot costume at the ceremony," he laughed.

Pam's eyes grew wide. "Oh my god! Could you imagine?" She burst into a fit of giggles. "Have you ever been to the ceremony before?" 

"Nah," he shook his head. "How about you?" 

"Nope. I'm really excited to go! Oh wait, do you think Michael will go to it? I guess we can only go, if he goes," Pam pouted. 

"Of course he's going to the ceremony. You don't drive all the way to Punxsutawney for Groundhog Day and not go to the ceremony," Jim smirked. 

"That's a very good point," she laughed.

-- 

After three new albums that Jim wanted Pam to listen to, a short break at a rest stop where Michael had to use the restroom, and then bought a soda that led to another trip to the restroom, and all of their snacks eaten, they eventually made it to Punxsutawney. As Michael's car began to slow, Jim made sure to keep his distance. Eventually he pulled over to a big red and grey building, stopped his car and got out.

"I thought you said he was staying at the Cherry Street Inn?" Pam said as she pulled out a pair of binoculars from her purse. 

"Where did you get those from?" Jim laughed, but was also slightly jealous he didn't have a pair. Wordlessly, Pam handed him a second pair. "Thanks," he smiled. 

"I grabbed them last night when I got the wig. I thought they'd come in handy. But anyway. Are we staying at the wrong hotel? Why's he here? What's he saying?" she asked as she gazed through the binoculars.

Jim was silent as he tried to watch what Michael was doing. He seemed to be flapping his arms around, shoved his hand in his mouth and then pointed to the building before he crossed his arms as if to say ‘no'. "Oh. My. God," he said slowly, lowering his binoculars and turning to Pam with wide eyes. "I'm pretty sure he just had an argument with himself and said he wasn't going to stay at this hotel." They watched Michael get back into his car and drive off. 

"Follow him!" Pam shouted, pointed forward. Jim immediately put the car in gear and followed Michael. "I can't believe you can lip read from so far away," she said, amazed at Jim's newfound skill. 

"I can't." 

"Then how did you know what he was saying?" 

"The movie, Pam. The movie!" Jim exclaimed. She looked at him, a little confused. "It's what happens in the beginning of the movie. Phil and the camera crew drive to this building first, and then Phil says he's not staying here, and then Rita tells him she booked him the bed and breakfast on Cherry Street."

"Oh my god," she whispered.

"It's crazy right?" he asked, turning his head slightly, but still keeping his eyes on the road.

"He can't be, can he?" she replied, looking at him. "I mean, no sane person would do that." 

"I know, but it's Michael," he deadpanned. 

"So you really think he's re-enacting the movie?" 

"I guess we'll find out tomorrow," he grinned. 

--

After Jim pulled up outside of the Cherry Street Inn, Pam handed him a black wide brimmed hat and a pair of sunglasses. She then put on a straight, red bobbed wig followed by her own sunglasses. "You can't be serious," he laughed, looking at her.

"Of course I am. You don't want Michael to spot us do you?" 

"Fine," he said, putting on the hat begrudgingly. They got out of the car and suspiciously made their way to the entrance of the bed and breakfast. "We look ridiculous," Jim hissed at Pam.

"Shhh," she shot back, and continued her tiptoe-like walk into the quaint hotel. "Hi," she smiled at the lady with grey hair behind the front desk, "we have a reservation for two rooms under the name of Halp..."

Jim jumped forward, interrupting Pam. "They're booked under Woods and Richmond." Pam turned to him with a furrowed brow. "Elle and Emmett," he whispered with a shrug, causing Pam to burst into a fit of giggles. 

The older woman raised an eyebrow at Jim and Pam and opened the ledger to look for their reservations. She put her reading glasses on and ran her finger down the page. "Ah yes, here you are. Two rooms for two nights." She reached behind her to get the room keys and handed them over to Jim. "Breakfast is from 6.30 to 8.30am. Checkout on Friday is at 10am. If you require anything during your stay, please do come and see us here at the front desk. Enjoy your stay with us." She smiled at Jim and Pam, waiting for them to leave.

"Thanks," Jim replied as he handed one of the keys over to Pam. They started to walk towards the stairs, but Jim stopped, turned on his heel and lightly jogged back to the front desk. "I almost forgot, a friend of ours is staying here tonight and we'd like to surprise him." Jim lowered his voice. "Which room is Michael Scott staying in?" 

The woman flipped the ledger open again and put her glasses back on. "He's in room 4. Your rooms are on either side of his." 

"Oh, that is fantastic, thank you," Jim beamed. "And if you see him, can you not mention that you've seen us please?"

"Mum's the word," she smiled, miming zipping her lips shut and throwing away the key. 

Jim smiled at her and then walked back to where Pam was standing. "Our rooms are next to Michael's," he grinned. 

"Amazing," she smiled. They walked in silence up the stairs, and peered around the corner to make sure the coast was clear before they made their way to the rooms. Pam's stomach let out a loud growl as she reached her door. 

"Shhh," Jim chuckled. "Wanna drop our bags and head out for an early dinner? Seeing as we just snacked our way through lunch." 

"Sounds good," Pam smiled.

--

"So where shall we go?" Pam asked as they walked along the street, keeping a lookout for Michael. 

"The world's our oyster," Jim grinned. "Nothing happens in the movie til tomorrow, so we don't need to worry about following Michael around. So, dinner? Your choice."

"Oh wow," she blushed. "Ummm," she hummed as she pondered Jim's question while looking down at her shoes. "Would French be ok?"

"French it is," he smiled, holding his hand out as if for Pam to lead the way. "I'm sure there'll be a little French bistro around here somewhere. Let's go have a look." 

"You're really ok with French?" she asked nervously. 

"Yeah, of course." He was silent for a moment as they walked. "Why wouldn't I be?" 

"Oh, it's, uh. Roy hates French food so we never get to go," she said quietly. 

"Oh." 

"Yea, he says it's ‘gay' or something," she shook her head. "I don't know," she sighed. "I'm just kind of sick of wings and burgers, you know?"

"Yeah," he breathed, looking down at the ground. They carried on in silence, passing Punxy Phil's diner and a pizza place. Finally Jim spotted a little dimly lit restaurant called Chez Amour. "Shall we?" he asked, raising his eyebrows with a lopsided grin.  

Pam smiled at him as he held the door open for her. "Thanks," she barely whispered. 

They took their seats at a small table by the window and ordered their meals; French onion soup and moules Provençale for Pam, and steak tartare and chicken Forestière for Jim. They both gave tight lipped smiles to the waiter who brought over the bottle of white wine that they'd ordered, and sat silently as he poured each of them a glass. As soon as he finally left, Jim picked up his glass to raise a toast. "To the groundhog," Jim smiled.

"To Michael's private celebration," Pam countered, grinning. 

"Yes!" Jim exclaimed. "To Michael's private celebration." 

They clinked glasses and each took a sip. "So I guess we've gotta be up early tomorrow huh?" Pam said as she put her glass back on the table. 

"Ugh, why did they have Phil get up at 6am?" Jim groaned. "Wouldn't an easy morning with a lay in have been nice?"  

Pam giggled. "I guess we should get up at like," she pulled a face, "five thirty?" Jim hung his head so that it hit the table. "We've got to be up and ready for when he leaves! We don't want to miss him!" 

"I know, I know. It's just so early," Jim moaned into his folded arms, his head resting on them.

"I wonder which part of the movie he's gonna be doing," Pam asked. 

"How do you mean?" he asked, sitting up.  

"Well, like is he going to do day one and do it all straight, or do you think it'll be later in the movie when he's hitting on women, or building a snowman, or trying to kill himself?" 

"Oh god," Jim groaned, running his hand through his hair. "I hope it's just day one. Nice and easy." 

"Me too," she laughed, crossing her fingers. The waiter brought over their hors d'oeuvres, and they both quickly tucked in. "Mmm, this is so good," she moaned as she pulled the spoon from her mouth. "How's yours?" she asked, nodding towards Jim's plate.

"Great. Wanna try some?" he offered. 

She smiled and readily accepted, before holding out a spoonful of soup for Jim to taste. "God, it's so nice to share food." 

"How do you mean?" Jim asked, a little confused. 

"Oh it's so silly," she said, waving her hand in front of her face. "Just, Roy won't share any food. He always says if I want to try what he's eating so badly, I should have ordered it myself." 

"Oh," he replied, looking down. He took another mouthful, not entirely sure what to say. Pam did the same and they sat in silence eating. Finally, it got a little too much for Jim and he spoke up. "Ugh," he cleared his throat, causing Pam to look up. "I heard in some interview with Harold Ramis, that he said Bill Murray was meant to be stuck in Groundhog Day for something like ten years. Could you imagine that?" 

Pam didn't say a word, she just nodded, ducked her head down and ate another spoonful of soup.

"Sorry, did I say something wrong?" Jim asked. 

"No," Pam sighed. "It's just, I'm sorry." She waved her hand in front of her face. Jim tilted his head up as if encouraging her to talk. "Just kind of feels like I am stuck in Groundhog Day. The movie I mean, not the actual day." She let out a small laugh and wiped her cheek where a lone tear had fallen. "It's like, every day is the same." 

"I know what you mean," he laughed. "I feel the same with work. It's like we're trapped there." 

"No, I don't mean at the office," she said, shaking her head. "If anything, work is actually kind of a break. You know, you're there, and all the pranks and stuff. And you never know what Michael is going to do next." Jim nodded along as Pam spoke. "It's more like at home. Every day is picking up after Roy, and making him dinner, and cleaning. Or just waiting for him to come home from some bar after a night out with his buddies. His ‘jokes'," she said in finger quotes, "are always the same. It's always the same weekend plans, same vacation plans, same friends. His friends that is." She paused and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drag our evening down."

Jim lifted his hand as if he was going to put it over hers, but thought twice and picked up his fork and ran his thumb over the tines instead. "You haven't, don't worry at all." He tried to smile at her, but felt like all the colour had drained from his face. He picked up the bottle of wine and refilled each of their glasses. "So, uh, do you think Phil will see his shadow tomorrow?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

She looked up at him with a grateful smile. "I guess we'll have to wait and see."