By 5.50am, Pam was awake, showered, dressed, and knocking softly on Jim's door, but there was no answer. She looked around self-consciously, slightly worried that she'd be seen by Michael. She knocked again, and a few moments later, Jim finally opened the door.

"Where.. oh," she gulped as she realised the Jim that was standing in front of her wasn't wearing any clothes. Instead, he was clutching one of the hotel's greying white towels low on his hips from behind, and water droplets were clinging to his lightly muscled torso. Pam lowered her eyes but realised she was instead staring at the trail of hair that was disappearing beneath Jim's towel. She looked up to his slightly defined chest and then further to where he was pushing his wet hair off of his forehead, as if he were a male model in a shampoo commercial. Or at least it seemed that way to Pam. She tried to speak but choked on her words. "You, ugh," she coughed. "You're not dressed," she stated.

"I'm so sorry," he said, truly apologetically, "I accidentally snoozed my alarm. I can get dressed in like three minutes I promise. Happens like every day before work," he laughed. "I'll just," he motioned backwards with his head towards the room and started to close the door.

"Wait!" Pam hissed, putting her hand on the door to stop Jim closing it. "What's our plan?"

"Uh, I guess," Jim reached up to scratch the back of his neck, elongating his whole body and making Pam blush, "let's listen through the walls and then you head out of your room and hide behind the corner and watch for him to leave. And then knock on my door as you pass. I promise I'll be dressed," he grinned. 

"Sounds good," Pam croaked, before she hurried back to her room. She grabbed a glass from the small desk and held it up against the wall. She glanced down at her watch and saw it was only 5.56am so was about to drop the glass when she heard a beeping through the wall. She pressed her ear harder to the glass to try and hear better. Eventually the beeping stopped, but was swiftly followed by a loud bang and Michael shouting. She could hear some ruffling around, before there was silence again. Pam glanced down at her watch again and saw it was just about to hit 6am. A few seconds after the top of the hour, Sonny and Cher started blasting from Michael's room so loudly that she had to take a step back from the wall. ‘I Got You Babe' carried on blaring for a few moments until there was a loud crash and it sounded as if something had been smashed.  Pam listened for a few more minutes, but there was silence. She decided to head outside and wait around the corner, so she grabbed her wig, coat and purse.

Thirty minutes later, Michael finally opened his door. Pam peered around the corner and watched him stand in the hallway looking around. He tutted to himself and then eventually said "think it'll be an early spring?" He changed his voice slightly and responded "I'm predicting March 21st." Pam heard his footsteps down the stairs and quickly strode over to Jim's door and knocked. "Let's go," she hissed at him as soon as he opened it.

"What'd I miss?" Jim whispered as they crept down the hallway. He'd exchanged the large hat Pam had given him for a less inconspicuous ball cap that he'd brought with him.  

"I'm pretty sure he set an alarm for just before 6am, and then put in a tape of ‘I Got You Babe' that started playing a couple of minutes later," she quietly replied.

"Wow," he chuckled. 

They ran down the stairs silently and spied on Michael from around the corner. He had walked into the main dining room and was looking around for someone to talk to. "I slept alone," he eventually said to a woman passing by, who in return gave him an odd look. "There's talk of a blizzard," he said loudly to himself as he picked up a coffee pot and poured himself a coffee into a paper cup. He put his coat and scarf on, picked up his large bag, grabbed the cup, and looked around the dining room. "I'd say the chance of departure is 80%," he announced to no one.

"Oh, he must be doing day two," Jim whispered to Pam as they watched Michael waiting for a reply from the room, which never came. 

"Huh?" she whispered back as they crept down the stairs and followed Michael out of the hotel. 

Jim waited until they were outside and walking a safe distance from Michael along the street. "On day one, Phil says the chance of departure is 100%, but then on the second day it drops to 80% when the lady asks him if he's leaving today," he explained.

"Oh," Pam giggled. "So where are we going next?"

"Beesly, I'm so disappointed in you," he said, shaking his head with mock disappointment. "I thought you'd seen this movie."

"I mean, like once, maybe twice. I'm clearly not as obsessed as you," she grinned. Jim rolled his eyes and tried not to smile. "So are we going to see the groundhog?" 

"Yes, we're going to Gobbler's Knob," he smiled. "But I think there's gonna be a couple of treats in store first," he said with a raised eyebrow, causing Pam to burst into laughter. 

They followed Michael through the town square, watching every move he made. First he walked past a man, who was neither homeless looking in the slightest nor begging for money, and patted his body down as if he were looking for his wallet. Then he walked up to a man and shouted "Ned Ryerson! Bing!" at his face, causing the man to jump backwards and almost fall over.

"Oh my god," Pam whispered as they peered at Michael from behind a tree. "How could I forget about Ned Ryerson?" 

"See, now I'm confused. Is he meant to be Phil or Ned?" Jim asked.

"Jim, come on, it's obvious," she deadpanned. "It's clearly a one man show. He's playing all the parts." 

"Of course," he laughed.

They watched as Michael stopped before the edge of the sidewalk and looked along the street, before moving to stand in front of a puddle, which he then proceeded to walk into and then said something to himself.

"First step's a doozy," Jim whispered to Pam, as if confirming what Michael had just said. 

Jim and Pam crept out from behind the tree and kept their distance from Michael as the three of them walked to Gobbler's Knob. Michael shouted "Nancy Taylor" at a very confused woman, before walking over to close to the stage and setting the bag that he was carrying down on the ground.

"Nancy Taylor?" Jim said to himself as they got closer. "That's not for a few more days."

"Hmm?" Pam murmured, not taking her eyes off of Michael.

"I think he's maybe doing all of the days," he explained. "Because he started on day two at the hotel, but ‘Ned Ryerson! Bing!' only happens on day one like that, and ‘Nancy Taylor' is, man I don't even know what day that is meant to be. And maybe the bang you heard this morning I bet was Michael smashing his alarm clock, which is definitely later on."

"Oh yeah! That's exactly what it sounded like, come to think of it! Wow," she laughed. "Come on, let's get a little closer." 

Jim pulled his cap lower over his face and together with Pam, suspiciously tiptoed over to where Micahel had taken a small tripod out of his bag and was setting it up with a small camcorder on top. He stood in front of the camera holding a hairbrush and tilted the viewfinder forward so he could see himself on the small screen. Michael pressed a button on the camera and was just about to start talking to it, when another man came over and greeted him warmly. Pam immediately pushed Jim further forward so that they could listen to their conversation. 

"Think it's going to happen this year?" the man asked Michael. 

"God I hope so," Michael replied. "It's so tiring doing this year after year. How did it work so easily for Phil?" 

"Wish I knew buddy," he laughed, slapping Michael. "I'm gonna go set up over there," he said with a nod of his head as he lifted his own camera bag. "Maybe see you tomorrow," he smiled and crossed his fingers. 

"You mean today!" Michael shot back with a finger gun. The man laughed and put his finger on his nose and pointed the hand holding the camera bag at Michael.

At that, Jim jumped back and pulled Pam backwards. "Ok hold on," he loudly whispered. "Michael is trying to get himself stuck in a time loop on Groundhog Day?"

"That's ridiculous. I mean, why would he do that?" 

"Pam, come on. It's Michael. Would anything surprise you?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I know, I know. But this is crazy, right?" 

"So crazy I don't even understand it," he whispered, looking over at where Michael was now talking into his hairbrush in front of the camera. "I wonder how many times he's tried to do this." 

"And that other guy too. Is it something they're doing together? It's just so weird." They both looked at each other and burst into laughter. "Stop," Pam pleaded, clutching her side as she carried on laughing. "We've gotta see if Phil sees his shadow!"

They crept away from Michael and went to watch the groundhog as it was pulled out of its hutch. The man on stage read from a scroll and the whole crowd groaned as it was revealed that Phil had seen his shadow and that there would be 6 more weeks of winter. 

"I mean, that's kind of ok," Jim said as he leaned down to Pam. "Lines up to when Spring actually is."

Pam giggled. "I don't know," she said, looking up at him. "An early Spring might be kinda nice. A change from all the gloominess around here. I could do with something nice and warm."

"Yeah," Jim replied with a slight croak in his voice as he stared at Pam.

Pam stared up at Jim and they locked eyes for a few moments. "We should, uh, Michael," she managed to say.

"Crap, where's he gone?" Jim suddenly said as he snapped his head up and started looking for Michael. 

"Over there!" Pam shouted, pointing to the other side of the stage. They quickly ran over to where Michael was walking, and followed him to a nearby diner. They waited outside the restaurant for a while to make sure that Michael would be seated, and finally crept inside, both wearing their sunglasses.  

As they waited to be seated, both Jim and Pam looked around the diner. "Three o'clock," Jim whispered, nodding his head to the left. Pam bent backwards and looked behind Jim to where Michael was seated, his table overflowing with food. 

"Table for two, hun?" a waitress asked Jim.

"Uh, yeah please."

"Booth or table?" she asked, picking up two large plastic covered menus.

"Booth please," Pam piped up. "Could we get one over there?" she asked, pointing over to where Michael was sitting.

"No problem, sweetheart." 

Jim and Pam took their seats in the booth on opposite benches and stood their menus up on the table to create almost a little fort for themselves so that Michael wouldn't see them. "Why's he got so much food?" Pam asked. "Do you think he's meeting more people who are trying to get stuck?"

"Mmmm," Jim screwed up his nose and shook his head. "There's a scene where Phil gives up and just starts eating everything. I guess he's doing that." They watched as Michael started shoving food into his face, purposely smearing some cake over his cheek. "Yeah, I'm not feeling hungry all of a sudden. Think I'm just gonna get a coffee."

"Yeah, my appetite's gone," she grimaced. 

They placed their drink orders and watched as Michael lit up a cigarette and took a drag on it before he started to choke on the smoke. A waiter quickly came over and asked him to put the cigarette out. Peering out from behind the menu fort, Jim and Pam sipped their hot drinks as they watched Michael get out of his seat and go around pointing to different people and talking to the other patrons as if he knew them personally.  

"He's doing the bit where he's predicting what's about to happen," Jim whispered. "I think we should head out and wait outside for him. Just in case he comes over to our table."

"Good idea," Pam nodded.  

Jim took out a few bills and left them on the table and then the two of them crept out of the restaurant just as Michael was being asked by one of the waitresses to leave the other customers alone. They stood and waited around across the street, spying on the restaurant to make sure that they didn't miss Michael leaving.  

"Where does he go after this?" Pam asked as they stared at the front door of the diner.

"I'm just trying to think," Jim said, his mouth tagged to the side slightly in thought. "As long as he's not going to commit any felonies or try and commit suicide, because I really don't want us to have to interfere with his day." 

"Oh god, could you imagine. He'd blame us for the time loop not working," she giggled. They carried on watching the door, on high alert every time it opened. "So, if you were stuck in a time loop, what would your perfect day be?"

"Ooh, good question Beesly," he grinned. "I'd want to play some basketball, for sure. Something a little outdoorsy, maybe go for a bike ride to a lake and then canoe. Picnic afterwards."

"Sounds pretty nice," she smiled.

"I know I'd want to play a prank on Dwight for sure. And I guess it would be nice to see you too," he said with a slight blush. 

"Wait. Your perfect day to be stuck in a time loop, and you want to go to the office?" 

"Wait, wait, wait," he rushed out, holding his hands up, "I never said I wanted to be at the office! Maybe, we bump into Dwight on the street or something, I don't know. I haven't really figured it out yet," he laughed. 

"Ok," she giggled. "So what are we doing after Dwight gets pranked?"

Jim swallowed hard at Pam's suggestion that they'd be spending more time together. "Um, I guess go get some good food and then watch a movie. Maybe Dazed and Confused or The Princess Bride," he said with a trying-to-be-casual shrug. 

Before Pam could say anything, Michael appeared from the restaurant and began to walk away from them. "There he is," she hissed and pointed to where Michael was disappearing around the corner. "Quick, let's go!"

They rushed across the street and followed Michael from a slight distance as he walked around the town. "So," Jim eventually said, "what would you want to do if you got stuck in a time loop?"

"Oh definitely paint," she said without missing a beat. "And I guess I'd want to see you too," she said with a roll of her eyes, bumping her shoulder into Jim's arm as they walked, "so maybe I could come and paint the lake that you're canoeing on?" 

"Sounds like a great idea," he said with a small smile, trying not to show too much of his excitement at what she'd just said.  

"And then you know, I guess we've got dinner and a movie later on, so maybe I'll squeeze in some pampering or a nap while you go play basketball," she grinned.

"Got it all figured out, don't you Beesly," he smiled. 

"Something like that," she said, her tongue poking between her teeth as she flashed Jim a wide smile. 

They noticed that Michael had stopped and taken out his cell phone to make a call. They edged closer to him to try and listen to his call, but realised that it wasn't necessary as he was shouting into his phone. "I know there's a blizzard. When will the long-distance lines be repaired? What if there is no tomorrow? There wasn't one today," he screamed.

"Ahh, we're back to day 2," Jim muttered to himself, causing Pam to giggle. 

Michael put his phone away after his outburst and continued walking, and Jim and Pam realised that he was heading back to the bed and breakfast. "Oh thank goodness," Pam gushed. "I hope he's going for a nap or something, I could really do with just sitting somewhere warm for a while. I'm freezing." They carried on following him, but held back slightly as he got to the entrance of the hotel. Once Michael was inside, they waited a little while before entering and then peered around the lobby to see if the coast was clear. But it wasn't.

They saw the back of Michael's head sticking up above the back of a wingback chair, and snuck behind him. He was watching an episode of Jeopardy as a man sat opposite him reading a newspaper. "Who is Beyoncé?" Michael shouted at the screen, causing the man reading to glare at him. Michael shook his head to himself as the contestant on screen correctly said "who is Taylor Swift?", and he muttered something under his breath at the TV. Jim and Pam carried on watching as Michael shouted answer after answer at the television, but none of them were right, and the man opposite him was getting visibly annoyed at Michael's outbursts. They could see Michael was about to get up, so they quickly hid behind a plant to avoid being seen. "I'll get them right tomorrow," Michael said to the man who was still reading his newspaper. The man looked up at him with a confused expression on his face, before he resumed his reading.

Michael made his way to the stairs, and by the time Jim and Pam got to the top, they saw Michael's door close behind him. "I guess we've got some time to rest," Jim said as they reached his bedroom. 

"Well someone has got to listen in to what he's doing, and seeing as I did it this morning, you're up buddy," she said wiggling her eyebrows. 

"Ugh, fine," Jim mumbled. "But don't go napping, we'll have to make a run for it when he does finally leave." 

"Deal," she grinned before slipping into her room. 

--

It was almost four hours later that Michael finally left his room, and after waiting for the coast to be clear, Jim pounded on Pam's door before running down the stairs to follow him. Pam saw him disappearing down the stairs, and quickly grabbed her wig and followed him down, finally catching up to him at the main door of the hotel.  

"Quick, let's go!" Jim exclaimed as Pam arrived downstairs. He ran off, leaving Pam to trail behind him. 

"Where do you think he's going?" Pam panted as she caught up to Jim. 

"My guess is a bar, I think it'll be the one at Rita's hotel," he said, watching where Michael was heading. "So maybe that first building we stopped at on the way here?"

They followed Michael through town as it began lightly snowing, and sure enough, he walked through the doors of the grey and red building. They followed him through the doors and managed to get a table close to the bar where Michael was pulling out a bar stool. "Looking foxy tonight," he loudly announced to no one.

Pam gave Jim a questioning look. "Phil insults the camera guy the first time he comes here. Remember?" 

"Kinda," Pam grimaced. "I'm absolutely watching the movie as soon as we get home."

"You better," he grinned.

They listened intently as Michael placed his order of a sweet vermouth on the rocks with a twist. The bartender made the drink in front of him, and as soon as the glass was placed in front of him, Michael raised it, toasting to world peace with no one.

A few minutes later, a waiter came over to Jim and Pam's table and Jim ordered them the same drink as Michael. Once their drinks arrived, they quietly toasted to world peace and tried not to laugh too much. They each took a sip, both grimacing wildly at the taste. "Ah, it makes me think of Rome. The way the sun hits the buildings in the afternoon," Jim grinned.

"Oh right," Pam laughed, "that's why she likes this drink isn't it. I totally forgot!" 

"Yeah, and the poor guy has to drink so many of them," Jim chuckled, shaking his head. "If only she had better taste in drinks." He took another sip and pulled a face again. "But then I guess it wouldn't be a comedy then, would it?" 

"See, that's where I think you're wrong," Pam replied, putting her drink on the table. " I know it's meant to be a comedy, but it's really kind of heartbreaking if you think about it." Jim lent forward, intrigued by Pam's reasoning. "I mean, Phil is there, falling in love with this woman, for years. Getting to know everything about her, day after day. Everything he's doing is for her. And she's just got no idea." She took another sip and looked at Jim. "Could you imagine?"

Jim sucked in a breath. "Yeah," he finally breathed out, before hanging his head.  

"Huh?" Pam asked, cocking her head to the side, trying to look at Jim, but he was looking down at the table. 

After what seemed like minutes, Jim finally looked up at Pam. "I'm in love with you," he breathed.

"What?" Pam asked, completely shell shocked.

"I'm really sorry if that's weird for you to hear, but I needed you to hear it." 

"What are you doing?" 

"You just said it yourself, it's heartbreaking being in love with someone who doesn't know. And I don't think I can do it anymore. I just, I just needed you to know," he said, looking back down at the table.

Pam was silent as a tear rolled down her face. "I, um," she began, "I'm really sorry." Instead, she grabbed her purse, pushed her chair back and rushed out of the bar, leaving Jim all alone. 

--

Jim stayed in the bar long after Pam had run out, nursing his sweet vermouth. He kept one eye on Michael, and the other on the door, just in case Pam decided to come back. But she didn't. He stared morosely into his empty glass and was contemplating ordering a whiskey, but just as he was about to, Michael pushed his bar stool backwards. After regaining his composure from nearly having fallen off of the seat, Michael shrugged on his coat and headed for the door. Jim sighed as he dragged himself out of his chair and pulled his cap lower on his head, wondering why on earth he was continuing with this stupid plan now that Pam wasn't with him. But what else did he have to do in Punxsutawney on his own?

He followed Michael to the grass covered square in the middle of town, and found a bench to sit on as Michael started to play in the light dusting of snow, laying down in it and making snow angels. Jim stared glumly into space as Michael gathered enough snow up to make a tiny snowman with the meagre amount of snow that had fallen. Once the snowman was finally complete, Michael slapped his face repeatedly, causing Jim to finally focus his attention on something other than the gravel two feet in front of him. As he looked up at Michael, he saw that Pam, minus her red wig, was walking towards him. Jim sat up straight and wasn't entirely sure where to look as Pam edged closer to him.

"Hey," Pam said quietly as she sat down on the bench next to Jim.

"Hi," he croaked, his voice hoarse after not being used for the last two and a half hours. 

"What have I missed?" she asked, nodding towards Michael where he was throwing fistfuls of snow at passersby in some sort of an attempt to start a snowball fight.

"Um, nothing much," Jim said with an upturned mouth, shaking his head slightly. "He left the bar, came here, made that," he pointed to the snowman, "and slapped himself a lot, and now I think he's in an imaginary snowball fight."

"He slapped himself?" Pam asked with a surprised tone.

"Slap montage," he replied, not willing to offer any further explanation.

"Ah."

They were both silent for a while as they watched Michael trying to gather enough snow to actually make a snowball. Pam fidgeted with her fingers and twisted her engagement ring around, unsure of what to say. She kept turning the ring until it loosened and accidentally dropped to the ground. The small tinkling sound pulled Jim's attention down to the ground where the ring lay, but Pam didn't move to pick it up.

"I, um, I," she swallowed hard, staring at the ring on the frozen ground. "I was thinking more about my perfect day to be stuck in, and I don't think it would be the one that I was creating." 

"Great," Jim muttered to himself as he bent forward to rest his elbows on his needs and hang his head in his hands.

She ignored Jim's murmur and carried on talking. "I think," she paused, "no, I know," she said in a more resolute voice. "The day I'd want to be stuck in forever has already happened." She looked at Jim and waited for him to say something or look at her, but he didn't. "It was that horrible day that I was late to work and missed breakfast so I had a yoghurt at my desk, but you came over and told me that it had expired. And then Michael made us go to that awful mini-golf place and you made me miss every shot so I tore up our scorecard and threw the pencil at you. And then I ate the really spicy hotdog and you just kept laughing at me as you tried to help me but nothing would make the burning stop." She wiped a tear away that was streaming down her cheek. 

Jim finally looked at her. "Why would you want to be stuck in that day forever?" he asked, confused.

"Because that was the day I realised I like you," she said simply. 

Jim tried to say something but it was as if he'd been winded.

"And it was an awful day, and everything just kept going wrong. But you were there the whole day, just making me laugh. And taking care of me. And," she sniffed back her tears, "it was the best day I'd had in, god, in maybe forever. I just didn't stop smiling all day, even though it was so bad. And then you gave me the stupid pencil and the god awful hot sauce packet in the teapot, and I have them on my desk now. And whenever I look at them, I think of that terrible day, but how great you made it." She looked over at Jim who was staring at her. "And I realised that I'd rather be stuck in the worst day of my life with you, than the best day of it with Roy." 

The silence between them was deafening. Jim finally worked up the courage to speak. "Pam, I..." But Pam cut him off.

"I'm really sorry I ran out of the bar. I guess I didn't know what to say, or how to admit my feelings for you to myself. So after I left, I just walked around this stupid freezing cold town for like an hour. And I thought about how much fun we'd had following Michael around, and it made me think of every other day we'd spent together, all the way back to the awful day and you telling me that my yoghurt had expired. And that's when I knew." She paused. "I love you, Jim."

"I," he started but stopped, instead leaning forward so he could kiss her. He slipped one hand across her cheek and into her hair as she began to return the kiss. Pam sighed happily as Jim deepened the kiss, pulling him closer to her by his shoulder. They finally pulled apart, both breathing hard. Jim rested his forehead against Pam's, his hands spanning her cheeks, and smiled possibly the biggest smile of his life. "I love you so much," he whispered.

"I love you," she smiled, before leaning forward to kiss him again.

The snow started falling harder, landing coldly on them. "Let's go over there," Jim said, with a nod towards the bandstand that was on the other side of the square. He stood and offered his hand to Pam, which she readily accepted. 

They rushed over to the covered stage, laughing as the snow fell around them. Jim held out his hands and Pam slipped into his embrace, resting her head on his chest. Jim wrapped one arm around her, and his other hand found hers, and slowly they began to sway, dancing to imagined music. "Wait!" Pam suddenly gasped, pulling her head back from Jim's chest. "We've lost Michael!"

"Yeah, I really don't care," Jim laughed as he pulled her close again and they carried on swaying.

"I ended it," she said quietly after a few minutes.

"Hmm?" he murmured into her hair, not quite sure what Pam had just said.

She pulled back slightly to look up at Jim. "After I walked around, freezing my ass off and I'd made my decision, I called Roy and told him that when I get home I'm moving out." She paused, looking up at Jim's slightly shocked face. "I mean, there was more to it than that, but I really don't want to get into it now."

"Yeah of course," he nodded. He was suddenly struck with a slight awkwardness. "Um, do you wanna head back to the hotel? It's getting pretty cold."

"Yeah," she nodded with a small smile. Pam held out her hand to Jim and led him off the bandstand. They walked past the bench they'd been sitting on and she noticed the glint of her engagement ring. She stopped and picked it up, dusting the snow off of it, and slipped it into her coat pocket. Jim didn't say anything, he just sucked a breath in. "I should probably give this back to him."

"Yeah, no, of course," he agreed, sounding like a frog was stuck in his throat. 

"Hey," she said, stopping walking. "This was my choice and I don't have a single regret. I meant what I said, I'd happily spend the worst day of my life with you over and over again." She tiptoed up to kiss him.

"Well," he smiled as they pulled apart, "let's hope we get some good days in there too."