Jim can't remember why he decided to come. It might be that he doesn't sleep in anymore, not really; he has an internal Dunder Mifflin alarm clock that wakes him up no matter what day it is.

It might be because she won't be there, and he might actually get some work done.

It might be because he has no other plans, and he knows that if he stayed home he would feel a strange sense of obligation to go to the outlet mall, even though he only said he was going there because he knew it would make her laugh.

It might be because what if she shows up? Wearing jeans and saying the lake sounded lame and I've always wanted to see you on a Saturday and hey, let's blow this off and go somewhere. It's this last thought that takes him out to his car, turns the key in the ignition and presses his foot on the gas to go to wherever she might be.

She's not there. No one showed up except for him and Dwight. He doubts anyone was even paying attention when Michael made his second announcement, the one he was probably forced to make after Jan yelled at him on the phone, saying someone had to be there over the weekend. Michael didn't even show up. Jim feels like he's now officially as sad as Dwight. Maybe even more, since Dwight probably cancelled some stake out or archery competition to be there for the company, and he's here on the off chance that she might show up.

She had already left, anyway, before Michael changed his mind. Let's get you into a tub... Jim just had nothing to do. Maybe he should have stuck with that, with nothing, sitting and counting the hours until he could sleep again.

He's been there for an hour and completely rearranged his desk; by some miracle, Dwight seems to be ignoring him. He lets the silence get to him and finally speaks.

"Dwight."

"Yes?"

"What are we supposed to be doing?" Dwight scoffs, "uh, working."

Jim has a sudden urge to do something, anything, a great prank; that feeling is quickly replaced by the thought, she's not here, what's the point? "Yeah, I get that. But it's the weekend. Most places are closed."

"Fact: There has been a 57% increase in the amount of businesses open on weekends. Fact: Those businesses will be vulnerable and not expecting to buy anything. Fact: I will sell them something. Guerilla sales, Jim."

"Wow." Jim imagines Dwight in full on face paint, attacking a client. The image is too close to reality.

"I'm the top salesman for a reason, Jim."

Jim thinks about his mini bottle of champagne. "This is true."

"You could be number two if you spent more time selling and less time on your immature little pranks."

"Maybe." Jim wishes that Dwight was wrong more often. "So, are we going to just do some cold calling, or..."

Dwight cuts him off. "I think...perhaps a competition is in order."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Maybe you can finally realize your potential."

"Right."

"I had so much hope for you, Jim. Too bad you turned out to be such a disappointment." J

im can't help but agree with him. "Fine. Let's see who can sell the most by the end of the day."

"I will crush you."

"You can try." Maybe the day will go by faster than Jim thought. He watches Dwight dial the phone and for the first time, he doesn't look over to his right before getting to work.

* * * * *

Dwight doesn’t know how, but he is losing. Correction: he is not losing, he is temporarily behind. Biding his time. He watches as Jim hangs up the phone and looks at him, smirking.

“Well, Dwight, it looks like I have made another sale. And you are…”

“I am pacing myself.” It is not Dwight’s fault that every place he has called run by lazy people who don’t know what’s good for them. Jim’s probably calling places run by little old ladies who get excited over the voice of a nice young man. Dwight does not play into charm, because that is a weak trait to have. He prefers being forceful, like a jackhammer.

“Sure, Dwight. Pacing yourself.”

“Whatever, Jim. I am just giving you a head start. It’s called pity.” New plan: Dwight it going to lull Jim into a false sense of security, and then overtake him.

“Wow, what would I do without you?”

“You would fail.”

“Well then I suppose I should thank you, Dwight.”

“You can thank me later, after I win.” Dwight picks up his phone and starts dialing before Jim can distract him again with this…trash talk. Doesn’t Jim know by now that he cannot be fazed by childish antics?

It’s an hour before they’re supposed to leave and Dwight still hasn’t caught up. He’s trying to keep his frustration in check, drumming his fingers forcefully on his desk and debating whether or not to call back and see if any of his future clients have changed their mind. He’s checking his notes when Jim speaks.

“Hey Dwight.”

“What do you want? I am in sell mode. You know not to speak to me.”

“Yeah, I’m making an exception. Do you think you can take these last two businesses on my list?”

“Why?”

“Just…take them.”

“I don’t want pity, Jim. I don’t need pity to win.”

“It’s not pity, Dwight. I’m…feeling kind of burnt out.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, in fact, I think I’m heading home.” He stretches. “You can finish up here, right?”

“I should have known. I’m showing signs of resurgence and you decide to run away. Like a little…running away…girl.”

“Ouch, Dwight, ouch.”

Dwight grabs the piece of paper from Jim’s desk. “Just leave. You’ll need your beauty sleep so you can make it in on Monday.”

Jim gathers up his things and turns to leave. As he passes reception he pauses for a minute, and then turns around.

“Dwight.”

“What?”

“Thanks.”

“Well, I was probably going to have to clean up after you, anyway. It’s part of my job description.”

Jim looks down, stuffs his hands deep in his pockets. “No…I mean, thanks for today, I…had fun. Kind of.”

Dwight doesn’t know what to say.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Jim shrugs. “I guess I have fun when I’m losing.”

“You must have fun around me all the time, then.”

Jim laughs. “See you, Dwight.”

Dwight watches him leave, and feels slightly disappointed. Jim was almost impressive today in his valiant effort to win a losing battle. Maybe he’s not a lost cause, after all. For a moment Dwight thinks that on Monday, despite everyone being there, things will be different.

After all, they were an unstoppable team, once.