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Author's Chapter Notes:

Fast Fact- this story is broken into three parts and this chapter begins Part II. It just so happens, due to the method of writing I've followed in writing this story, I also just completed the draft of the last chapter (21) of Part II. So as you my loyal readers (thanks to all of you who are) begin a new section, so do I. 

Part III - here I come - Yikes! 

 

Sunlight beat at her eyelids but Pam refused to let herself be drawn from what seemed a strange and fantastical dream. Clinging to the ethereal state of half awareness, half trance which she flitted in and out of, aware it was still the sandman’s spell that altered the cadence of Roy’s snores and made them seem off in the distance and not right beside her, she reluctantly cracked open one eye to get a peek of the clock on her night table. Without glasses on she knew it would still be fuzzy, but she had the jumbo display unit situated so close she could interpret the blur to know if she had more time to stay in her dream state or she might as well get up and start her day.

This morning it was neither.

In the instance before she could fully unseal the single eyelid that felt glued shut, she became disoriented and confounded, vaguely aware that something was not right but unable to process precisely what it was. Her sleep had been deep and quite sound, undisturbed by the rough movements that usually disrupted it in the wee hours of the night, especially on a night when Roy had a drunk a few too many, as he did on the boat last night. She had the strange sense as her mind slowly adapted to morning that he wasn’t even in the bed with her.

Instinctively, she drew up the cozy blanket to her face, the sweet scent of a foreign fabric softener that drifted into her nostrils was another telltale sign she was not in her own place, apparent after she finally caught a peek, first with a single open eye and after a blink, both, and found no clock, no bedside table and no Roy.

The gritty crust that hugged her lids made it difficult to blink away what she imagined was still a crazy dream. Clenching them shut again, she wondered if she had removed her contacts last night, their overnight wear causing the extra stickiness but also the clarity with which she viewed her surroundings. Dried out lenses however, didn’t explain what might be behind her bizarre AM illusions, and she could only imagine what might be the cause was a slumber so deep she was still held captive by it.

Clearing away the sandy substance that coated her lashes, she wrenched open her eyes and focused once more on her surroundings. What she saw before her was in perfect focus, clear as day, perhaps even sharper than she’d ever experienced before with her glasses on or contacts in. As was her memory of the day before and how she came to be on the pull-out couch in the small office slash guestroom with her boss curled up on a tufted bench in the corner.

She in fact hadn’t removed her contacts and only because in this altered new time dimension she somehow had perfect vision, even without corrective lenses.  

She had the sense something was different with her eyes the whole time on they were on the boat last night but with no reason to suspect that time-travel corrected myopia, she still had to argue with Michael once they had come ashore that yes, they had to find an open drug store, because no, she could not just stick her contacts in water instead, and why not – because I just can’t Michael.  

It was in that situation it was fortunate Michael’s mind was in so many ways like that of a child’s, in that the circular logic was enough to end the discussion, at least temporarily.

It wasn’t until much later, after first learning that Randall’s wife also wore contacts and had plenty of solution at home, while she stood in the bathroom of the cameraman’s small apartment and tried to remove one of the transparent domes that enabled her to see without an overlay of haze, that she was astounded once again when there were none in either of her eyes. Strange that her watch, her clothes, even the small bruise she had on her leg from the tumble she took while skiing on her vacation, they all traveled back with her, but her contacts and more remarkably, her poor eyesight did not.  Too tired and having been through too much already to give it much thought, she accepted that one of the mysterious benefits of time-travel was vision correction.

“Good Morning, Pamcake. What do you think they serve for breakfast in this joint?”

In the time it took for her to get her bearings, Michael had awoken too. From his upbeat demeanor and speech it seemed apparent he had not experienced the same kind of the bewilderment she arose to. Quite the opposite in fact, it was as if he visited the past on a regular basis. He was chipper and in a bizarrely good mood, even without the George Forman grill and bacon he asked for and was denied by his hosts the night before.

In the less than full year Randall had been around as one of the cameramen filming the documentary, he’d come to know Michael well enough to not ask questions. Though unlike Pam, he’d yet to experience the future where the reason for his request would be made absurdly clear, he seemed to know it could only be something preposterous and havoc causing and fortunately for Michael, shut down the conversation immediately. If he had heard even the slightest bit of Michael’s insane morning habit, he may have been kicked out of the cameraman’s home right there and then, and then he might be sleeping in the car instead of where they were.

“Michael, remember what I said last night. Best behavior, right. That means this morning too.”

---

As per the instructions Randall had given to Pam in their brief encounter on the upper deck, she and Michael managed to slip out amongst the other passengers, who just as he predicted were clamoring to disembark the moment the ship was anchored. The rattled guests, too fixated on getting off the boat hadn’t noticed the arrival of the two figures garbed like refugees. The brown blankets shrouded over their bodies and ensconcing their heads offered them concealment as they emerged from the upper deck and became one with the crowd headed for the exit.

Since all the Dunder Mifflin people were corralled off and detained so to allow the more flustered people an early exodus, Michael felt safe to discard his camouflaging blanket prematurely, but Pam convinced him to keep it on until they were safely to the parking lot. She was sure there was nobody on this adventure cruise that would want to see his face right again. Even when they dropped them at the bottom of the gangway, she didn't want to steal and felt guilty enough about the water and yogurt they took, she told him to keep his head down, his mouth shut and to keep walking. It wasn’t often that Michael obediently followed orders but, in this instance, he was as deferential as Gilligan was to the Skipper.

They made it to car without being recognized by anyone, but when they arrived at the vehicle it didn't respond to the fob Michael pulled from his pocket. Pam was almost certain it was because he was trying to use his Sebring keys, but when he held it up closer to the car door, she could see the tag from the rental place and was momentarily as confused as him and becoming considerably nervous. All she wanted to get away from the boat before they might be spotted by a co-worker or themselves.

Not hearing the distinctive beep-beep didn’t stop him from repeatedly pushing down on what he insisted was just a bum key fob. It was after he tried multiple times that he started trying the other buttons. The sound of a car alarm off in the distance emerged over the hum of vehicles starting up and the whir of the lake lapping against the legs of the pier just as she remembered they had parked much further back and way on the other side from where they were.

“Michael, this is not our car.”

The far-off alarm halted instantly when she told him to hit the panic button again but by then the true owners arrived, horrified to find the man who had ruined their evening cruise was seemingly trying to break into their car.

The woman threatening to call the police was a concern but it was her burly male companion with his clenched jaw, flaring nostrils and turned down brow that had Pam more concerned. She was no stranger to the body language, having seen it many times before.

Clearly, he had his own thoughts as to how to take care of the matter.

She’d never been on this side of an altercation but had plenty of experience being the one with the hot-headed partner, only this woman did not seem as if she would be trying to talk hers out of roughing up Michael. 

Fearful not only for Michael’s safety but about stirring up any more attention with any form of heated exchange, particularly now that the Dunder Mifflin crew could be off the boat and heading into the lot to retrieve their cars, she timidly tried to reason with the couple. It took a bit of explaining how it was honest mistake and much groveling about how terribly sorry they were for all the night’s misfortunate events for the man to let it go. It was only after she shared of her own exasperation in working for Michael, and concurred that yes, her boss was a huge jackass that she was able to pull Michael away and escape the tenuous situation.

Her agreement with the couple in calling him names, she knew it hurt his feelings, and no matter how true it sometimes was, she felt bad she had to in this case. Still, it was preferable to reluctantly join in on the Michael bashing than to have them cause a scene. They were too close to being through the night only to be discovered because she was concerned about bruising his ego. Better to have his self-worth take a little beating in lieu of his face. 

But she could see it in his eyes, how offended he was. It was one thing when she and Jim, or any of his office family criticized him; he was used to that and could generally handle even the most disparaging verbal abuse they could dish out. But it was also her and them that more often defended him against outsiders like Captain Jack and hecklers at Chili’s and bullies in the parking lot. She knew she was going to have a very pouty Michael to deal with later but for now she just wanted to get to the refuge of the car.

Backtracking across the lot was risky. Roy’s tuck and Meredith’s minivan were both on the way, but luckily they made it to the other blue Honda unseen. Once there, however, Michael gave her the silent treatment. He opened the door for her to get in but refused to talk to her or even start the engine to warm the car up.  

“Michael, stop being a baby and turn on the car.”

He didn’t move.

“Michael, come on stop pouting. I just said what I said to keep things from getting out of hand. That guy was pretty angry and I needed to defuse the situation.”

He had no reaction, except to cross his arms over his chest.

“Michael, it’s cold and I’m tired and I just want to go home.”

That’s when it hit her, they had no home to go to. Pam couldn’t go back to the small house she shared with Roy and Michael couldn’t go back to his new condo. Both would be occupied by their other selves that night. It was just one more dilemma they’d have to figure out due to what was the truth, her boss was a jackass.

But until she convinced him she really didn’t think it, they’d weren’t going anywhere or doing anything and that included thinking of a place to sleep that night.

“I’m sorry Michael, you’re not a jackass. Anyone could have mistaken the cars and as for the other thing, well anyone who couldn’t tell you were being metaphorical about the boat sinking, well they’re the jackasses.”

“Right, what was up with those people? If they had just waited…”

His voice was defensive but his eyes showed remorse, just like earlier. Pam realized at that moment just how much he genuinely wanted to right the mistake he’d made the first time around. But that history had been written, twice now and that meant Michael was experiencing double the guilt. It was enough to make her want to hug him, and so she reached over and wrapped her arms around him in a clasp full of emotion. Michael, first stiff with resentment, after seconds in Pam’s arms, released the firm hold of his limbs and leaned into her embrace. His head felt like lead as it dropped onto her shoulder, as if holding the weight of everything they’d been through and all that he’d done.

---

Angela sneered as she passed the car with the lovers entwined on the way to her own. She’d purposely parked far away from her co-workers, knowing by the end of the night she would have had enough of their inappropriate behavior. Tonight, it wasn't just them who had her wanting to throw up from their tactlessness and ill decorum. Tonight, Michael subjected her to the bad manners and tastelessness of strangers, on a boat no less, in the middle of winter, with way too much booze being served.

If that wasn't enough, she'd had to witness one very drunk and indiscreet couple going at it on the boat. It was disgusting, the PDA, where they seemed more like farm animals with no impulse control than adults who knew better.

If she hadn’t just past that couple again when she rushed off to get to her car, she might have thought it was the same one. However, since she left them only minutes before still making out on the pier, she knew this had to be some other inappropriate couple.

“Heathens”, she mumbled as she averted her eyes away from the iced over windows that in her opinion still did not provide amble privacy for what she imagined was going on inside or soon would.

She continued her muttered rant as she hurried to her car.

“People have no decorum these days. Can’t even wait until they’re out of the parking lot.”

Arriving at the gray Ford, she rushed to unlock the door and get out of the cold, pulling out her phone once inside to check the message she anticipated would be waiting for her. 

Monkey, looking forward to showing you who the real captain is.

Taking off her gloves in order to text a reply as the car warmed up, she typed back.

I’m on my way to port.

Without waiting any longer for the cabin to heat up since thinking of what she had to awaiting her tonight elevated the thermostat of her tiny body more than the engine ever could, she pulled into drive and navigated the car in the direction of Schrute Farm.

---

To Pam’s relief, after the hug, Michael was finally done sulking and put the key into the ignition. The car seemed to take forever to warm up. For minutes the only temperature rise came from a new impasse, a heated discussion about what to do next and where to go. Pam insisted the first stop be a drug store to get her contact solution, a toothbrush and toothpaste and something more to snack on, followed by a motel where they would need two rooms.

Michael maintained back at the office they had everything they could possibly need including water for her contacts and a comfy couch in the reception area where she could sleep.

“Dwight sleeps on it often and says it is quite comfortable.”

Pam took a deep breath before she replied, thick white clouds escaping from her mouth as she exhaled her annoyance.

All the more reason, not to go there, she thought but kept it to herself deciding to try to reason with him instead how the office was not an ideal place for them to camp out for two weeks.

Peeking around the spacious parking lot as she tried to calm down again—it was amazing how in moments Michael could make her forget she ever felt sorry for him and infuriate her more than before—she noticed as they sat arguing it had for the most part cleared out. Far across the lot she could no longer see the truck or the van, Jim’s Toyota or Michael’s Sebring or any of the familiar cars she knew. What autos that were left were mostly up closer to the boat aside from what probably belonged to the ship crew in a cordoned off section of the parking area.  

Knowing reasoning with Michael was a losing proposition, she was about to give in and agree to go back to the office only after a stop at CVS, when she noticed there was still an SUV parked a few spaces away from them, a vehicle she swore she’d see before but wasn’t quite sure who it belonged to.

“Michael, whose car is that?” she asked pointing out at the maroon Dodge to their left, concerned it could be Stanley’s wife’s or she just was forgetting in the moment what model Creed drove. Come to think of it she wasn’t sure she noticed him behind the wheel of anything.


“That, I’m pretty sure it’s Randall’s,” he said evenly, in contrast to the belligerent tone of moments before. “Yup, there he is.” 

Pam looked up to see the cameraman walking toward them, hauling a case with his equipment, his warm eyes smiling even while his thin lips were tautly closed in a level line under his white walrus mustache. For some unknown reason, Pam was relieved to see him again. Maybe because he was the only other person aware of the predicament they were in or perhaps because he had always reminded her a bit of her father mixed with a favorite high school art teacher who had once encouraged her, and ever since their recent encounter, she saw him a lot like Dumbledore too, thanks in part to the situation but also because of his piercing blue eyes, that twinkled with gentleness and a touch of mischievousness just like in the books.

Following their interaction on the boat, she inexplicably had come to see him as a sort of spiritual guide through the confusing journey she found herself on and so as he neared, Pam stepped out from the bit of warmth that was just beginning to fill the interior, to greet him and seek out his thoughts on what they should do as they waited out the period until they fused back into the linear timeline.

His mouth remained for the most part rigid, except for the faintest of upturn at the corners, but still his face seemed to expand to a slight smile as he stopped at the rental car Pam stood in front of.

“Well, that was an adventure, was it not? I did not see that shipwreck coming.”

The edges of his mouth widened just a touch more while he crafted his pun, while a derisively raised pair of eyebrows moved with his gaze back towards the car where Michael was still inside rubbing his hands together, probably regretting having not started the engine and the heat sooner.

Pam followed his view, her own lips extending into a toothy grin after a slightly delayed reaction to his marine humor.

“But I guess you did.”

Pam gave a small nod to him, her eyes rolling as her head turned from Michael and back to Randall.

It was enough to draw Michael out, knowing from their body language and facial expressions, he was being discussed and was likely being denigrated even more.

As Michael joined them Randall went back to his more serious expression, the one he tried to keep on his face during the hours of filming in the office. It was a wonder to Pam that he could so regularly keep his face straight with all the ridiculousness that he witnessed, but he seemed to have a technique for staying stoic. In the time she’d known him, she had only seen him break into laughter a handful of times. But still she could tell he was a kind man with a good sense of humor and a generous heart. She’d only had a few short conversations with him when the cameras weren’t rolling, but she knew that he was an animal lover, he had even done some pro bono work for the ASPCA, he liked the same music as her mom, he joked often but always in fun, never with malice, and just like her, he couldn’t watch old Christmas movies without blubbering.

She couldn’t recall how they got to talking about It’s a Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th Street a few weeks back, but however it came up it was enough to give her more of a sense of the caring soul he possessed.

“I see you made it off undetected but what are you still doing here?”

Pam turned to Michael and then back to Randall before she answered.

“We are not really sure where we can go?”

There was a silent beat as Randall nodded gently, taking a moment before he spoke again.

“Hmmm, I guess that is a problem.  Time travel not all it’s cracked up to be, heh Michael?”

Michael didn’t answer right away. His eyes darted, first to the ground, then to the sky, then to Pam. She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to conjure up a good response to Randall’s obvious tease.

“That’s only because I didn’t have time to prepare, but I’m already devising my plans to make the most of it. I’m going to use my time to do things I never could before. Maybe I’ll learn another language or take up piano or become a master chef.”

“In two weeks?”

Randall said it but it was exactly what Pam was thinking. As usual Michael’s grand tactics were much more ambitious than his capabilities.

“Michael before you go off and enroll in culinary school, can we discuss where we are going to sleep tonight. This day has been exhausting and I’m spent. You must be too.”

She looked at him earnestly, knowing his day to be as trying as hers, perhaps even more before turning back to the man she hoped could make Michael see reason where she failed to.

“Randall, do you know of any decent motels that won’t break the bank? We’ll need to stay for two weeks and Michael needs to be able to cover for two rooms over that time.”

“I can’t afford that; I’ve got a mortgage now and besides I’m already shelling out for the car. Why can’t we just sleep at the office?”

Now Pam was getting frustrated at having to go another round about why not.

“For one, there are no beds and no showers and I don’t feel like having to sneak out at the crack of dawn and have to find someplace to be all day and then wait until it is safe to go back again every night. Besides with all that, when will you have time for your cooking and piano lessons?”

Without his camera rolling, Randall didn’t need to keep it together and was free to react naturally. For maybe the third or fourth time she actually heard him break into a full-on belly laugh. And as much as she was still worried, Pam burst into giggles too.

It took him almost a minute to speak again. Not so much because he was still laughing but more likely he was contemplating what he was about to offer.

Before he could open his lips to begin, a gust of wind rocked in from the nearby lake, so strong Pam needed to grab hold of Randall to steady herself. A thunderous blast rang out from the ship they just departed, its din seeming to shake the ground they stood on.

Three heads turned back to where the ship was docked.

There was no need for a warning toll, the boat was moored for the night. Pam had to assume it was some ritual of the crew to signal the end of another cruise.

The blare echoed in her ears as another wind, this time gentler but no less frosty, wafted over them. The clang from the Wallenpaupack Princess died down, sounding a little like bells as it faded off, leaving the trio in an eerie silence before Randall broke it.  

“Listen, Pam’s right. It is getting late and I hate to think of you sleeping in the office as who knows what kind of mess you can get yourself in there.”

He looked at Michael as he spoke but then shifted his focus to Pam as he went on.

“Besides, I’ve got a daughter and I can’t help thinking about what if it were her with no place to go. Listen Pam, I’ve only got one spare room, my workspace, but it has a pull-out couch. Sorry, but Michael will have to sleep on the floor in the main room. And Michael, count your blessings you’ve got Pam here with you. If it were Dwight instead of her, you’d both be sleeping in the car.”

“Randall, thank you so much. Really, we are so grateful. Is it okay that we stop off so I can pick up contact solution and get us some toothbrushes?”

“No need, Gabby, my wife wears contacts too, so she’ll have plenty and I’m sure we have some spare toothbrushes.”

“Are you sure she won’t mind?”

“My wife, not at all, she’s that type, always welcoming and watching out for everyone, even strays her husband might bring home.”

“Okay, thank you again so much Randall. You are a lifesaver.”

She nudged Michael who seemed to be back in his petulant mood, evidently not enjoying the little jabs from her and Randall any more than the insults from outsiders or the sleeping arrangements he was offered.

“Yeah, thanks for the floor.”

“Okay, so I’m in the Village Park apartments off Potomac. You should try to follow me but just in case, it’s pretty easy, take 84 to 81 to North Main. 24 Townhouse Blvd. You got it?”

Pam nodded and repeated the simple directions back to him.

“84 to 81 to North Main. Got it.”

Randall started towards his car turning around before he was out of their earshot to add, “And Michael, please don’t make me regret this.”

It was hard to get lost with the easy-to-follow directions given to them but somehow Michael missed the ramp to 84. Fortunately, the error only cost them an extra 5 minutes before they were back in route. Pam knew just what a big deal it was for Randall to be opening up his home to them and didn’t want to cause any trouble and that included being late to arrive. Once back on the proper road, she began her lecture, feeling a lot like a parent prepping her child before church or a meal at a fancy restaurant.

“I mean it Michael. Your best behavior, whatever you think that is, make it even better than that.”

Chapter End Notes:
Not much to say except, I love to hear your thoughts- even if it's just a few lines to say you're having fun, it's always a thrill to hear. 

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