Still December 23rd (for another forty-seven minutes)

"You were what?" Jim chuckled, swinging bright eyes to Pam. She pursed her lips and nodded at Michael. It was only then that Jim processed what she'd already noticed about Michael's appearance. "Wait. You're serious."

"Of course, I'm serious. Why would I joke about something like this? After I escaped, I came straight here to check if Pam was okay."

"Michael. Have you called the police?"

He shrugged. "I escaped. What do I need them for now?"

Jim flicked his gaze to Pam, disbelief swimming in his eyes.

It had her choking back a laugh. Sure, she was deeply concerned about Michael, but she had missed this so desperately, being Jim's partner in the craziness that was their coworkers.

"Take a seat, Michael," she fluffed her sofa cushion encouragingly. "We'll figure this out. Would you like a tea?"

"Hot cocoa please," he beamed.

"Jim, can you help me in the kitchen?" He didn't hesitate in following her from the room.

"What do you think?" she sighed, handing Jim a pot so he could start heating the milk up on her stove.

"As I drove into town tonight, I thought I was just dipping my toes back into Scranton and then Michael showed up and now I've dived in and a manatee has started speaking to me."

She shook her head at him.

"It's the same old Scranton."

"It sure is," he grinned broadly at her. "Better even," he looked pointedly at her as matching flushes of red warmed their cheeks.

His wrist spun the spoon through the milk in rapid, tight circles. "Here," she breathed, settling her hand over his, "like this." She slowed his movements down with the steady press of her fingers.

She could feel the warmth of his eyes on her face. Her cheeks pooled darker still with blush. She lifted her gaze to his from under long lashes.

His face shifted purposefully towards her. He moved with slow, deliberate movements, giving her the time to take the out if she wanted it.

She didn't.

She leant in, her lips a whisper away from his. Close enough to feel his breath coming in steady puffs. Her eyes slipped shut. She —

"Pam!" Michael bellowed. "Don't forget the marshmallows!"

She cursed, Jim groaned and the moment was lost.

"Maybe we kidnap him ourselves and finish the job."

"There's an idea," she replied dryly. "We shouldn't joke. He might have really been in trouble."

"Mmm," Jim pursed his lips. His soft, moist lips… She shook her head to clear it, but all she accomplished was to make the visions of Jim dance even more enticingly.

"First that," she pointed vaguely in Michael's direction, "and then…"

Jim seemed to understand, he ran his thumb delicately over the inside of her wrist. "Yeah," he agreed.

She pressed the hot mug into Michael's outstretched hand. He sipped, well slurped, deeply.

She didn't have time for this. Not when she had everything she wanted in her kitchen, diligently washing up her pot. She wished that was a euphemism for something and not a simple statement of fact. Still, curiosity burned at how on earth Michael had managed a miracle.

"You said you made this happen," she gestured between them. "You sent the email, right?"

"Email?" Michael furrowed his brow. "It was my Christmas wish! That's how I made it happen!"

"But, you bought the dress?"

His face scrunched further still. Pam gestured at herself. "This dress? From the mall?"

His eyes bugged. "Woah. You got the dress, Pam! Good for you."

"It wasn't you…"

Confusion etched across her face, pinching her brow. She was sure that Michael held some of the answers she was seeking and yet he genuinely seemed surprised by her questions.

Jim settled beside Michael on her sofa, his long legs leaving him just inches away. She itched to reach out and nudge his foot with hers.

She tried to wretch her thoughts away from Jim for even a second. She was playing a game of twenty questions and somehow getting further from the truth with each confused answer that slipped from Michael's lips.

"How about my card design?"

He still wore the same bewildered, but generally delighted at the turn of events expression.

"I can't believe my Christmas wish was so powerful. It made so much happen!"

"Neither can I," she murmured, Jim's shoulders rose and fell as he shared in her confusion.

"I think the more pressing matter is actually what happened to Michael. We can solve the Christmas mystery after that," Jim suggested. "I really do think that we might need to call the police."

"Ahh," Michael waved his hands. "We don't need to bother them."

Pam chewed on her bottom lip and eyed Michael carefully. "Michael. Do you know who kidnapped you?"

"No, don't be ridiculous," he answered with his gaze on the ceiling, pointedly avoiding Pam's prying eyes.

"Uh huh," she murmured, sharing a look with Jim.

"This has Dwight Schrute written all over it," he spoke her thoughts into existence.

Michael huffed. "What? No. That's… what are you doing?"

Jim dialed Dwight's number. "Did you kidnap, Michael?" He asked without preamble.

"Jim. You no longer work for Dunder Mifflin Scranton. I am under no obligation to share details about my dealings with you."

Jim hung up the phone.

Pam reached for her cell. "Hi Dwight," she greeted gently. "How are you?"

"I'm well thank you, Pamela. What can I do for you?"

"Did you kidnap Michael?"

"Kidnap is such a heavy handed term. I merely offered Michael a bag of candy to get into my vehicle and he accepted that offer."

"That's a surprisingly textbook definition of a kidnapping," Jim murmured, his tone low enough to escape Dwight's notice. Pam shivered at his breath, warm on her neck as his lips formed the words. She hadn't noticed that he'd leant forward, canting his entire body towards her to listen in on her conversation with Dwight.

Awareness rolled through her, a wave gathering momentum as it rushed towards the shore.

"And then what happened?"

"After that, we formed a gentleman's agreement. Michael had to stay with me for an hour and I let him keep the candy."

"Why?"

"To delay him from attending the party."

"So, you did it all? The email? The dress? The card? It was all you?"

"Sure," he answered easily. And yet she disconnected the call feeling as if she hadn't really figured anything out at all. She'd added two and two together and come up with… Dwight. The only thing she was certain of was that the answer presented to her didn't feel like a four.

December 24th

It was after midnight when she ushered Michael out her front door and into the crisp night air.

Jim had offered to drive him home and she found herself alone with only her harried thoughts for company.

What did she gain by solving this Christmas mystery? Did she just accept the gift and let a little bit of magic linger in the season.

Her conversation with Dwight had been wholly unsatisfying. She had no doubt that he had been instrumental in preventing Michael from coming. But the card? The dress? The email?

She added all the pieces together again and again and it didn't add up to Dwight. It just didn't.

Which spun her back around to her earlier thought. Did it matter? Should she simply take it for what it was and celebrate what it had accomplished.

She was reconciled with Jim. And she was sure that they were something now. There would be no settling for friendship for either of them, the current of awareness buzzing between them made sure of that. It was potent enough that it could power an entire city.

She couldn't even begin to perceive the joy that came with that. It was too much. The whole thing was completely overwhelming.

She was glad for the moment alone to even pretend to compose herself ever so slightly. She found she didn't really need it though. She was composed. She was ready for this.

So much so, that when Jim walked back through her door chuckling wryly at the Michael of it all, she let him see the determination in her gaze and that was that.

He had barely made it over the threshold and latched the door in place when she stepped into the circle of his arms and made her intentions very clear.

He stepped back a little nervously at her approach, the door at his back halting his movement. She brushed her lips softly over his, giving him the option to refuse her if he wanted to. She pulled back, just an inch so she could look him in the eyes and gauge his reaction.

He released a slightly strangled breath and peppermint floated through the air.

The knowledge that he'd had the foresight to chew a mint on his drive back to her buoyed her instantly. She grinned at him, a wide bright delighted smile. He answered her with his own toothy grin, eyes lit up with all the warmth of a star atop a tree.

And then they both moved, drawn together by a silent plea for more. His hands framed her face, the gloves that he'd just removed dropping to the floor, already forgotten.

She crushed her mouth back to his, gone the careful nervousness. He answered her eagerly, his lips parting instantly.

Somewhere between him spinning them and pressing her flush against the door and her steadily unbuttoning his shirt there was a unanimous decision that he really would like to finish the tour of her apartment, starting with her bedroom. This was agreed upon to be an inspired idea.

It wasn't until her dress pooled at her feet, crinkled and forgotten that she realized there was no returning it now.

She couldn't find it within herself to muster an ounce of regret. She didn't even mind if it meant she was in debt to Dwight for the rest of all time if this was her payoff.

She woke many hours later entwined in warmth. It took a few moments for the awareness of the night's events to come rushing back to her.

It was then she registered that the heat surrounding her was Jim's arms, cradling her against his chest.

This was different to anything she was used to. Her routine with Roy had been a habitual peck goodnight and then they rolled in different directions. If she strayed too close to his side during night, he would generally push her away because "it's just too hot, babe."

She didn't feel too hot now. She felt warm, but it was a different type of warmth altogether. It started deep in her chest and radiated outwards, floating out to each of her limbs leaving her feeling languid and completely content.

She turned as gently as she could within the cove of Jim's arms and brought her hand between them to trace the planes of his chest.

His eyelids flickered at her movements. She hadn't meant to wake him, but oh well.

He squinted an eye half open, "tickles," he breathed.

"Whoops," she answered and made no move to stop.

And then recognition flared and he jolted ever so slightly. "Good morning?" She liked the confusion coloring his tone still thick with sleep.

"It is," she agreed.

He offered round full eyes now and she watched the same emotions play out across his face that she was sure were on her own. They searched each other's gaze for a hint of regret and finding none, both slipped into wide, awed smiles.

His arms tightened around her and she let herself drift forward. He kissed her squarely on the mouth. Good morning indeed.

"I have to meet Penny for breakfast," she admitted reluctantly.

He sighed and loosened his grip. "I'm supposed to be driving to my parents today."

"So, last night was less grand gesture and more about conveniently avoiding the traffic," she teased.

He quirked a brow at her. "If that's how you feel maybe I should charge you the standard cab fare."

She chuckled. "And how much would that be exactly?"

He tucked a finger under her chin and melded his lips with hers.

When she regained her faculties enough to continue breathing she gasped in mock outrage. "One ride home and I've been forced into prostitut—"

"Hey now," Jim laughed.

"How about this? I'll give you," she counted her fingers theatrically, "four homemade Christmas cookies."

"Or…" he stretched it out as if he was deliberating it seriously. "You take it for the grand gesture that it was."

She pretended to consider it thoughtfully, pursing her lips. "Deal."

"Can I still have the cookies?" He leveled her with his best puppy dog eyes.

"Hmm. I'll consider it."

Her phone chirped and she frowned. "That'll be Penny saying she's on her way," she admitted reluctantly.

"I want to spend Christmas with you," Jim murmured, his eyes locking intently on hers.

The warmth she'd felt waking up sparked brightly back to her awareness.

December 25th

Despite having to hustle him out the door after he'd made declarations about the holidays that had caused her heart to stutter excitedly in her chest, Pam once again woke to Jim's arms binding her tightly to his chest.

They'd spoken on the phone the previous afternoon about trying to find a time to meet again amongst the chaos of a multitude of family commitments tugging at them from both sides. Then, when it seemed their schedules wouldn't align, there had been a knock on her door and there Jim had stood with a bashful smile. "I had to run an errand and I was driving past and I couldn't not stop…" he had admitted.

She hadn't answered him with words, instead she let her actions speak by grasping him by the lapels and tugging him over the threshold. He came all too willingly. He hadn't made it back to his parents.

She wasn't sure what came after this. But it was Christmas and they were together. All that mattered was this moment.

After this there would be distance, but the distance was surmountable - especially in comparison to everything else they'd already overcome.

Jim's phone buzzed and she was reminded of the multitude of outside commitments that awaited them. Christmas lunches to be had with both their families. Gifts to be opened with his nieces and nephews. Traditions with her sister to uphold.

"I stand by what I said yesterday," Jim groaned as he released her with one arm to reach for his still vibrating cell.

She hummed a response.

"That I'd rather spend Christmas with you," he explained.

Time felt precious, a little like the magic of the season would expire at midnight and he'd be left holding a glass slipper and all she'd have would be a pumpkin. It was irrational and completely at odds with the certainty she now felt of them. Still, she wanted to hang on to the magic for as long as she could.

What had she ever gained by being sensible all the time? Nothing. All she could picture were the years that had slipped away and been lost with Roy. She didn't want to lose anything when it came to Jim, but it was the opposite she feared, that time with him would slip away too quickly, a rapidly melting marshmallow in hot cocoa.

"I feel a migraine coming on, in about, oh, two hours," she winked at Jim.

"What a coincidence," he beamed. "I have a stomachache penciled in for then too."

December 26th

Work greeted her with its usual dullness and she decided that she couldn't let it go.

She needed to distract herself from how despondent she felt about Jim kissing her with the frantic desperation of a soldier leaving for the battlefield when he'd climbed into his car and started for Stamford this morning. Even though they'd agreed to a phone date each evening. Even though he was coming back over the weekend to see in the New Year with her.

It was still a loss and she ached accordingly.

So she wasn't letting it go.

She needed something to keep herself from falling headfirst into a pit of a despair - a place she was unfortunately all too familiar with.

There was only one logical place to start, so that's where she did.

She tried to ignore the pang in her chest at Ryan in Jim's desk as she accosted Dwight at his. Ugh she missed him so pathetically already. It was a vastly different form of missing though. There was no hopelessness, just the tediousness of counting down the seconds until sweet reunion. It ached with awareness, but it didn't hurt.

"Dwight," she confronted a little curtly, but hey, she was in a mood. "What color was the dress?"

"Oh you know," he scoffed, arms waving aimlessly. "That, that color you like."

"Blue?"

"Yes. That's it. Blue." He folded his arms and smiled like he'd managed to pull the wool over her eyes and not the other way around.

She glared at him a little. It seemed Dwight was the frustrating dead end that she had expected him to be. To have it confirmed was that exactly: frustrating… and a dead end.

She was on the cusp of calling a conference room meeting and demanding answers when sanity prevailed.

Well, sanity on the Dunder Mifflin scale. She would still demand answers, but she would do it via email. Someone out there knew what had happened and what did she have to lose by asking?

Sending a mass email to all her coworkers prompted another investigative avenue. She dove into her outbox and there it was, an email to Jim complete with the invitation to the party. She carefully considered the time stamp.

It had been sent the day after Michael had confirmed that she had won the competition, during her lunch break if she had to guess. She wracked her memory, searching for anything out of the ordinary.

It took her a few moments of chewing her lip before it came back to her. A moment. Dwight ushering her into the annex at the end of her break, insisting that Kelly needed a reminder about the call forwarding function. She'd found it peculiar at the time, because Dwight had asked Kelly how things were going with Ryan and nodded in all the appropriate places and ten minutes had disappeared before Kelly had stopped to draw breath. Then Pam had asked her about the call forwarding thing and Kelly had given her a weird look and called Dwight an idiot for even suggesting it and that was that.

It had been odd, but on a scale from generic Dwight to full Recyclops it barely registered.

Another instance of Dwight the accomplice… But it couldn't be, because there was only one person that Dwight would do crazy favors for and that was Michael. Unless… but she quickly shook that thought from her head because it was absolutely ridiculous.

It seemed her email plea was fruitful. Oscar hesitantly approached reception. "Any messages?" he asked a little too loudly. He flicked his gaze over his shoulder and then nodded to the doorway. She followed him out.

Oscar's tone was puzzled, like he couldn't quite believe what he was saying. "Pam," he ushered her further into the hallway. "Angela and I keep a surplus. It's a," he looked around making sure that nobody was close enough to overhear and then he leaned in and whispered. "It's an account we use to counteract when Kevin makes a mistake." He offered a slightly apologetic curl of his lips. "It's happened before, on numerous occasions and we've learnt it's best to be prepared."

"Okay…"

"I'm only telling you this because Angela dipped into it last week for an expense. She gave me the usual Kevin eye roll, but he'd been doing busy work all week. There was nothing he really could have screwed up."

"Do you know how much it was?"

He flicked another cautious glance back towards the door and leaned in, his voice barely a hush as he told her the figure.

"Oh."

She'd seen that number before, on the price tag of her dress.

And there it was. The only other person that Dwight would do insane favors for. Another piece of the puzzle slotted into place and yet it still didn't add up. There was a who, but the why…

"Thank you."

Angela's hands stilled over her keyboard, but she did not look up and meet Pam's eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied stiffly.

The email that she'd sent had made it pretty clear just what Pam might be thanking someone for, but she understood what Angela was saying. She didn't want it acknowledged. Pam had the answer, even if it baffled her beyond belief.

In that moment she decided that the greatest kindness she could do Angela in repaying her was not to make a big deal of it.

"I'd like to understand why?" she finally settled on saying.

Angela sighed and turned to glare at her.

Well, it was a resolution of sorts. She would just have to contend herself with that and analyze Angela's possible motivation in great detail with Jim when he called tonight. Maybe he would have more of a clue at where her inexplicable bout of kindness may have stemmed from.

"Did you figure it out?" Michael bounded towards her in eagerness as she sat at her desk absentmindedly doodling on a post-it later that afternoon.

She cast her gaze towards accounting. "Yeah. I think I have." She could see the way Angela stiffened at her words.

"And?" Michael bounced impatiently on the balls of his feet.

"It was your Christmas wish, Michael. You did this." She smiled gently at him and his face erupted in shocked glee.

"I did this," he beamed. "My heart soars with the eagles nest!"

She allowed herself to chance another glance at accounting and saw that Angela's cheeks were twisted in the makings of a smile. She punched at her keyboard and rolled her eyes at Michael's theatrics because she was Angela after all, but she met Pam's eyes in a look of muted shared understanding and it was enough.

Or at least Pam thought it was enough. She reconciled herself with it being enough.

The rest of the day slipped away. Pam lingered in the office for a moment, letting herself revel in the way it didn't weigh on her to be present at work any longer.

She hadn't realized Angela was still around until she stopped at reception, clearing her throat pointedly. "It was the right thing to do." Her keys dangled from her hand, she wrapped her fingers around the WWJD keychain that held them together and almost smiled at Pam. "I was reminded recently that it's important to do the right thing."

"So, you didn't just miss Pam-Pong?" Pam grimaced at her own words. Here was Angela being sincere and she had slipped into her default of responding to anything she said with just a touch of snark to match Angela's usual tone.

"How do you think I found your half decent Christmas card design?" Angela's eyes gleamed with something that was within the realm of humor.

Pam gasped, a tiny puff of air, in actual delight. "It was all you."

Angela scoffed. "Of course it was. Every part of it. These idiots couldn't pull off a thing."

"Thank you. If there's ever anything you need." But Angela was already out the door, and her thanks were lost to the empty office.

She was struck with the thought that Angela must know that she knew and already felt as if Pam was doing her a favor. It's not like she'd ever planned on telling anyone that Angela and Dwight were secretly dating, but this only solidified that decision.

She had her answers and they were almost as unbelievable as if it had purely been Michael's Christmas wish. There really was something special about Christmas that made everything seem far more possible. Angela had extended an almost unfathomable amount of kindness in her direction. Almost as if she'd been a broken string of lights and Angela had painstakingly twisted each bulb to fix the fault.

Angela. It really was something.

She had only just made it through her door when her phone shrilled insistently.

"Pam!" His voice was a balm to a distant pain she hadn't even been consciously aware of.

"Hey," she breathed, instantly finding it easier to do so.

His tone was overflowing with exuberance. "There's going to be a merger. The Scranton branch is absorbing the Stamford branch."

"What?" she managed to gasp.

"I'm moving back!"

It seemed that there was a little magic left in the season after all. Somehow it managed to be the gift that just kept on giving and giving and giving. It left with her with one lingering question: how the hell had Angela managed that?!