"You have to believe we are magic." Olivia Newton-John.  You know, I have always believed I've had magic inside me.  Not a day goes by when I don't consult the mystical forces for their sage advice.   Like today.  I consulted this 8 ball before I had my lunch.  I asked about the pickled elk Dwight tried to make me eat and it said "Outlook not so good."  So I went with that container of egg salad I found in the fridge instead.  I gotta tell you.  This thing never lets me down.

If only I'd consulted the 8 ball before I invited Jan to Jamaica...

Jim crunches on a carrot.  "So.  It's been over a week.  Who are we up to now?" 

Pam blushes slightly and reaches over to snag one for herself.  "You've got such healthy eating habits..." 

"I can thank the person who made my lunch for that."  He replies with a smile.

"Wow.  Someone makes your lunch?  Lucky you."

"Yeah."  He slides his hand over her knee and gives a quick squeeze.  "Lucky me."

Pam pushes back the chair to get out of his reach. "Stop it."

He feigns innocence.  "Stop what?" 

She glares at him.  "Jim."

"What?  Everyone knows already."  He gestures towards the camera and laughs at the look on her face.

"Not the point."  Pam shifts further away from him.

Jim continues to laugh.  "Pam.  C'mon..."

"Not the point."  She says again, but he can tell she's trying to keep a straight face.  "Do you need a dictionary?  I believe the word I used was repulsive."  She laughs and then meets his eyes, her voice soft and serious.  "So...as I was saying, we're now revisiting the Scott brothers..."

He crunches on another carrot.  "Ten bucks he's totally related to the toilet paper guys."

"I will not take that bet.  I'm sure you're right."  Pam shakes her head at him.

"And they're the most likely to provide him with a fortune..."

"Exactly.  But he'd rather be related to a dog...or today's latest...Scotty from Star Trek."

"Let me guess...Dwight..."

"Sometimes I'm not sure if he understands these things aren't real..."

"You mean Narnia is not an actual place?"

"I hate to break it to you..."  Pam's laughter trails off when she spies something out of the corner of her eye.   "Michael?"

"Hi."  He mumbles as he slumps into the chair across from them.

"What's wrong?"  Jim asks.

"Did you ever want something so badly that you couldn't stand to get up every morning and not have it?"

Jim catches Pam's eyes with his own and holds her gaze.  His voice sounds tight as he replies.  "I'm familiar."

"I wanted Jan and now I have her and I think she might just want me for my money."

"Umm...Michael?"

"Yes Jim?"

"I'm pretty sure I have a good idea what you make, so I think it's safe to say you really don't have any money to speak of."

"I might."  He snaps back.  "Inheritance..."

"Yes.  Okay."  Jim nods.  "But...you've been dating Jan for quite a while."

"Don't remind me."

Jim bites back a laugh.  "So I don't think you can say she wants you for your money."

"You have no idea, Jim."  Michael's voice lowers to a whisper.  "I have a..."  He looks at Pam and then back at Jim.  "Can she be trusted?"

"Umm.  I'm sitting right here."  Pam sighs.

"I'm just saying since I can't trust you to knock first..."

Pam shivers.  "Trust me.  I did not want to see that."

Jim hurries to diffuse the conversation.  "Okay.  C'mon.  Of course you can trust us. You know that."  He smiles softly.  "What's going on?"

"I've been keeping a secret from Jan."

Jim's eyes widen as he meets Pam's.  He nods solemnly towards Michael, urging him to continue.  "Okay..."

"And it hasn't been easy.  She's all into everything.  She's into my dresser drawers, my closets, my pants..."

Pam shivers again. "Michael."

"We did ask for this."  Jim shrugs.

"We didn't ask for that."  Pam clarifies.   "OK.  What's the secret you're keeping from Jan?"

Michael leans back, his mouth turned down in a bit of a pout.  "You know.  I'm not sure I should tell you, since you two were secretly dating right under my nose..."

"Well you don't have to tell us if you don't want to."  Jim replies as he stuffs the remains of his lunch in a bag.  "Shall we Pam?"

"Sure."

Michael senses he's losing his audience and is not about to let it happen.  "No.  OK.  I'll tell you.  Here it is."  He exhales with a loud whoosh, leaning close to whisper.  "I have a secret Swedish Bank Account."

Jim looks at Pam, his eye brows raised in amusement.  "Swedish?"

"Yes."

"You don't mean Swiss?"

"No, Jim.  I mean Swedish.  They are much more secure."

"Says who?"

"My financial advisor."

"You have a financial advisor?"

"Yes."  Michael gives Jim an incredulous look. 

"And where did you find this advisor?"

"Jim.  Does it matter?"

"Kind of.  Because I don't mean to alarm you Michael, but a few years ago a bunch of their ATMs were hacked..."

"Well I don't use their ATMs so there's nothing to worry about.  And - if you must know I found him at the supermarket."

"At the supermarket?  Did you meet him there?"

"No."

"So how exactly did he begin to advise you?"

"I called him.  There was this flyer on the bulletin board and I pulled one of those little tags with the phone number."

Of course.  Jim shakes his head.  "I see."   

Michael can see the doubt in Jim's eyes and begins to lose his tenuous patience.  "It was very colorful."

"Flyer design is very important, especially when you're deciding what to do with your money."  Jim had started this conversation in jest but he's beginning to get concerned.  Michael, no matter how inane he can be, does not deserve to be bankrupted by some supermarket advertising financial advisor.  "How much is in this account Michael?"

"About twelve hundred."

Pam sighs with relief.  "That's it?  Just twelve hundred dollars."

"Well, twelve hundred in Swedish money."

"OK..."  Jim looks at Pam in confusion before he realizes Michael is still talking. 

"Can you believe it?  I gave him two hundred and fifty bucks a month ago and it's already quadrupled."

"Actually that's..."  Jim began.  He trails off when Pam rests a hand on his arm and shakes her head. 

She leans close and whispers.  "Don't bother trying to make sense of it.  I can almost guarantee that's probably just the current exchange rate."

"You think?"

"Well, first of all - it's Michael..."  She trails off.

Jim doesn't need to hear another word.  He smiles and takes a sip of his soda.  "Fair enough."

Just then, the door to the break room flies open.  "Michael!"

"Not now Dwight."  Michael's voice is barely audible as he rests his head on his arms.

"But I have some important information for you."  Dwight replies. 

"OK.  Spill it." Michael slowly moves to sit upright.

Dwight surveys the room before he speaks again.  "It's something better told in private." 

"Dwight.  How many times do I have to tell you this is a team effort?  Are you part of the team?"  Michael snaps back.

Dwight stands up straighter and stares at Michael intently.  "Only if I can be captain."

"No.  You can't be captain.  If anyone is captain...You know what Dwight?  Just forget it."  He stands and walks quickly towards the door.  Jim gives Pam a nod and they both start to follow.

Desperate to be heard Dwight yells out.  "You were named after a wizard!!" 

"What?!" They reply in unison.

Dwight waves a sheet of paper towards them.  "Michael Scott the Wizard.  He lived during the 13th Century.  He was a philosopher, alchemist and astrologer.  He went to Oxford and spent a lot of time in Italy."

Michael stares at the print out and grins widely.  "This must be why I love pasta so much."

Pam smiles.  "Must be."

"This is fantastic." Michael's eyes are wide as saucers.   "Could he make a car disappear? Like David Copperfield?"

Dwight studies the print out intently.  "Umm.  That is undetermined at this time."

"I'm sure he did."  Jim scratches his chin.  "I mean, he was a wizard after all."

Pam smacks him playfully on the arm. 

Michael's excitement at this news nearly crackles in the air around him.  "Do you think he made any money back then?  I mean...look at that those guys who play Vegas.  The best magicians can make a bundle."

"I'm not sure he was that kind of wizard."  Pam knows her attempt to make him see reason will most likely fall on deaf ears.

Michael presses the paper Dwight has produced to his chest.  His eyes brim with tears. 

"This makes sense.  When I read that first Harry Potter book, I felt connected to him.   At first I thought it was because the way he described his room sounded a lot like the one I had when Jeff moved in with my mom.  But now I know."  He looks at the page again.  "This is why."

With that, Michael walks slowly towards the door.  Pam clutches at Jim's sleeve as they watch him leave. 

"Just to explore other possibilities I cross referenced against Merlin's known descendents..."  They can hear Dwight saying as he dutifully follows behind.

She turns and finally lets out the laugh she's been trying to contain.  "OK, this is funny now, but you know it is not going to end well."

Jim places a hand on his heart as he tries to keep his own laughter at bay.  "Pam.  I promise.   I'll be there to save you when he offers to saw you in half."