Disclaimer: I don't own The Office. Same goes for Doctor Who. I really wish I owned John Krasinski and David Tennant, but you can't have it all, I guess... Also, I don't own Precious Moments. Blech.

Author's Note: I'm not entirely sure where this idea spawned from. Maybe it after rewatching old Office episodes soon after discovering my obsession with Doctor Who. I dunno. But it's been a fun story to write, and it shouldn't be too long. Just a handful of chapters. Sorry for anyone who likes Precious Moments. Too sickly sweet for me. I did own a Precious Moments Bible at one point, though. It was a Christmas gift from my overly religious grandparents. It has since found its way to a box in my basement. Anyway, enjoy.

Five-thirty on a Thursday afternoon, and she was still there. Almost everyone else had left half an hour ago, save for Michael, Dwight and herself. Both men were finishing up on the day's paperwork, much like she'd been doing when the five o'clock hour had struck. Now she was just finishing up a particularly good game of solitaire before she too left.

"Good night Pam," she heard Michael say, drawing her attention away from the game and onto his mad grin. She knew what was coming next. "Paminator, Pam-a-lama-ding-dong, Pamaliscious definicious boo-"

"Good night, Michael," she replied firmly, cutting him off before it got any worse. Refusing to let his energy or smile falter, he gave her an attempt at a suave goodbye, which she only responded to with a forced smile. Waiting a minute for delayed laughter, he finally gave in and gave her one last, normal goodbye before exiting the office for the night and leaving only her and Dwight in the room.

Moving the final card into place, Pam took a minute to enjoy the eruption of digital cards across the screen before shutting down her computer for the night. She grabbed her purse from under her desk as silently as possible, praying Dwight would be too caught up in paperwork to notice her bid for escape. Just as every other night like this one turned out, she had no such luck.

"Going home?" he inquired, not looking away from his computer screen. Like almost everything else that came out of his mouth, it seemed more like a demand than the simple question it was. The brunette nodded slowly, now caught in his inquisition. "Why?"

"It's five-thirty. We were all allowed to leave half an hour ago." His scrutinizing gaze moved sharply, now hanging on her disdainfully.

"Don't you have calls to log and faxes to send out?" Inwardly, she rolled her eyes.

"Dwight, there were three calls today, and one was a mis-dial for the Dominoes down the street."

"And I'm sure corporate would like to know why you spent an otherwise unregistered thirty-three seconds of valuable time on the phones," he stated, attempting to sound as authoritative as possible. She could've laughed just then, but the few social graces she upheld around him still stood strong. Besides, she knew from experience that it could only get more interesting from here.

"You're right, Dwight," she managed, a small smile cracking through her calm veneer. "I'll log it as soon as I get in tomorrow morning." Not the response he was looking for, he stared at her with disgust.

"You're useless, Beesly. I'm exterminating this conversation." Oh, now she couldn't help herself.

"Exterminating it?" she repeated, eyebrows raised as she smiled, bemused.

"Exterminate," he stated, no-nonsense. His gaze dropped back to his computer accordingly, and she decided to continue on as normal, as if Dwight's strangeness didn't exist, as if he was just another normal co-worker like Phyllis or Toby. Or Jim, her mind added absently. He was nice and normal, at least by her standards. That, of course, was under the assumption that everyone played pranks on their insane coworkers and took their girlfriend to the carnival that had just rolled through town, only to get thrown out for infuriating a clown. What a night that had been.

"Good night, Dwight. Don't stay too long," she said pleasantly, opening the door and walking out. The last thing she heard as it clicked shut was Dwight's intoned, "Exterminate," sending her into a fit of repressed giggles.

The elevator ride down was uneventful, as most elevator rides are, as was the short trip through the lobby. Usually, walking out of the office complex was like a sigh of relief to her, but tonight it felt wrong. On the ride down, she'd been able to laugh off Dwight's idiosyncrasies. Now they just seemed strange, even for him.

Pulling her cardigan closer around her, she added an extra burst of speed to her walk across the parking lot. Acutely aware of everything around her, she caught the sound of the decorative stones near the front doors being jostled by something heavy hitting them, and quickened her pace as best as she could in heels. She reached her small car in record time, fumbling with the automatic unlock. Something was definitely wrong here. She never panicked, not like this. This felt real, completely unlike the terror she'd felt when Roy had made her go see Saw along with him and his brother. There was a presence in the air, a charge of energy, and it felt ominous.

Finally hearing the satisfying 'beep beep' that meant her doors were no longer locked, she breathed an overdue sigh of relief and opened the door, glancing up. Her eyes were intended for the fading daylight of the sky, but they never made it that far. Breath catching in her throat, she was met with the sight of Dwight on the other side of her car, staring her down mercilessly. There was something inherently wrong with this whole situation, but for a moment, she relaxed slightly, the shock fading. Only Dwight. Not a big deal.

"Jesus," she murmured, shaking her head. "What was that for? You nearly scared me to death." She paused hesitantly. Since Beach Day, she'd tried to be more vocal about what she was thinking, but this was just creepy. He hadn't moved a muscle yet. "How'd you get down here so fast? You weren't on the elevator with me."

Only one word left his mouth: "Exterminate."

Suddenly, he was on the roof of her car, and she was again terrified, more so now than she had ever been. The psychotic gleam in his eyes, the only display of emotion in his otherwise stoic face, was absolutely inhuman, and it drilled into her with furious intent. In the few empty seconds he spent perched on her roof, she could feel only her own dread of what was to follow, the primal fear that a rabbit feels just before a wolf clamps down around its small body, and then the cool hand that slipped into her own, bringing a much needed calmness to her mental state. Her eyes rose to meet that crooked smile, even though she already knew who it was, and suddenly everything felt alright again. Maybe Dwight wasn't some sort of freak engrossed in exterminating her, and maybe there wasn't that strange electric charge in the air that made everything feel alive and dangerous.

"Hi," she said, hushed. She smiled sweetly, and he returned it with his own.

"Hi," Jim replied. Maybe it was the manic edge to his single word or the excited glimmer in his brown eyes, but she was instantly pulled back into their insane reality, and that was only the beginning. "Now run!"

She did exactly as she was told, breaking into a dead run with him in the lead. They wove through the parking lot, careful not to bump into the few remaining cars as they deftly avoided the closely following Dwight.

"What the hell is going on?" Pam demanded, letting a rare curse word slip out. Jim didn't look back, only tightening his grip on her hand.

"Long story," he muttered. That wasn't enough for her, despite the dire situation.

"What's going on with Dwight? Why does he keep saying 'exterminate?'" She swore she could almost hear him let out a sigh.

"Even longer story." Abruptly, he came to a stop, nearly sending her crashing into him. Glancing back, she saw the frightening figure of Dwight, more realistically frightening than disturbing-frightening now, advancing on them and felt a whoosh of air on the back of her neck, as if Jim had opened something. She looked back just in time to catch a glimpse of a tall blue structure, 'Police Public Call Box' emblazoned near the top, and then she was whisked inside.

The door swung shut behind her, but she hardly noticed, too caught up in the interior of what she thought was a small blue box, not the massive room she now stood in. It had a warm, organic feel to it, with patches of yellow and orange blending seamlessly throughout the nigh-luminescent walls, while at the same time feeling high-tech, hexagonal metal plates aligned in rows of two up and down the very same walls. The floor was made up of perfectly welded grates, suspending them above the smaller space below them. The smaller room itself was blocked off by bars standing perpendicular to the flooring in even increments and connected by bars parallel the floor, all to prevent a sudden descent to the lower level. One set of stairs led to the lower level, though she could see that some grates could be moved if necessary. Thick, curved pillars spanned from the grated floor to the domed ceiling, meeting around the most unnatural part of the whole room, aside from the floor.

In the exact center was a tarnished metal console, all sorts of controls poking out of its clear paneling, including something that closely resembled a bicycle pump. The console seemed to be built around a clear tube reaching from ceiling to floor that contained a pump of sorts, humming with a soft blue glow from within, just as the paneling did.

Too enthralled by the not-so-small blue box, she didn't notice that Jim had left her side. He was now hastily moving around the console, playing with the random buttons and levers almost expertly. Dancing through her line of vision, he inadvertently snapped her back to reality and drew out the questions overflowing in her mind.

"Seriously, Jim, what's going on? What is all this? What's a Police Public Call Box? How is it so much bigger on the inside? And what are you doing?" Not looking up at her, he let out a small smile.

"All great questions, really," he said, flicking a switch, "but now is not a good time. Gimme a minute." As if to emphasize his point, a thunderous banging erupted from behind her, sending the young receptionist skittering forward in shock. She turned sharply to peer out the opaque windows placed high on the only entrance to wherever they were now and was met by the distinctly parted hairdo of her coworker. It was none other than Dwight pounding on the door with such ferocity. What was going on?

"Please, please work," Jim pleaded with the console, cranking an old wheel in desperate circles. "Don't fail me now. Not now of all times." Almost dejectedly, the pump within the central column began to move up and down, the blue glow becoming brighter with each motion. A metallic whirring sound accompanied it just moments later, echoing through the room. The incessant noise of Dwight's pounding became softer and softer until it had vanished entirely; only the whirring could be heard now, along with Jim's relieved sigh as he all but collapsed onto the console. His unkempt hair, let to once again fall freely since his breakup with Karen, hid the parts of his face not already buried in his encircled arms, but somehow she knew he was smiling. She wasn't sure how; she just knew. When he didn't move, not one bit, for almost a minute, her concern for him overrode her worries of what was going on here and she moved closer to him, heels clanking quietly on the metal floor. She placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she inquired. Finally, for what felt like the first time in an eternity, he looked at her, his small, crooked smile plastered so endearingly over his features.

"I'm fine," he replied. "Just glad this thing decided to work in time. It's been really temperamental since -" A hand went to the side of his head as he stopped himself. "Never mind. Hurts my brain." She gave him a worried look.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He nodded. "Good. So what exactly are we in right now? Because I'm not going to lie, I'm more than a little freaked out." His smile grew.

"You get used to it," he replied, adding with a very Jim glance off into the nonexistent distance, "after a while." She giggled and he met her eyes again, wanting to just look into them forever. For all he knew now, he could.

After a moment, he realized he was staring and he still hadn't given her any real answers. She gave him her gorgeous little smile and he shook his head a bit as if to wake himself up properly, standing upright. Following his movements, she threw in an expectant look.

"Right," he blanched, glancing around himself in an attempt to find a good place to start before looking back at her and clapping his hands together. "We're on the TARDIS. That stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space. It's sort of a time machine space ship." Pam gave him a small, incredulous look.

"We're on a time machine space ship," she repeated, a twinge of doubt in her eyes. "How'd you manage to come across one shaped like a big blue box?" He smiled vaguely, shrugging.

"I didn't find it. It found me. Just kinda showed up in my bedroom one day."

"Any reason why?"

"Long story." She raised an eyebrow.

"I think we have the time. We did escape Dwight, right?" He nodded. "Good. Then you have the time to tell me everything." He held up a halting finger.

"Only if Dwight can't find us. I couldn't send us through time, so he's still out there right now, looking for us."

"So your time machine can't travel through time?" she asked, a smile creeping onto her lips. She wasn't sure if she believed all of this yet. Never once had she been inclined to not trust Jim. He'd never lied to her before, and that wasn't mentioning Dwight's freakish display back there. On the other hand, this could all just be a dream from the safety of her desk. Oddly enough, she was actually hoping it was the former option.

Jim just sighed.

"She won't go through time for me yet. Just space. She hasn't quite warmed up to me. Besides, I think there's something important I have to deal with here, and Dwight doesn't help my suspicions."

"Yeah, what's wrong with him?"

"Oh, aside from the normal stuff?" he asked with a grin, drawing a matching one from her.

"Right. Like why he kept saying 'exterminate' or was chasing us down." Jim's grin faded a bit.

"I'm not sure how it's possible, but I think he's at least part Dalek. He's definitely acting like one. It doesn't really make sense, but it's the only way to explain it. At least his personality fits - he thinks everyone is inferior to him and he's willing to undermine anyone to get what he wants." He smiled slightly, running a hand through his messy hair. "It just doesn't make sense."

"Maybe I missed something here, but what's a Dalek?"

"Something you'll wish you'd never met," he answered, smile dropping from his features as he turned completely serious on a dime. "They're aliens that want to eliminate everything in the universe that isn't like them just because it's not like them. I can't count how many times they've tried to take over the Earth throughout history. They have a habit of repeating 'exterminate' over and over, too." She nodded slowly. Even if this was all a joke, or even a dream, it was really well thought out. Either Jim had put a lot of effort into this or her subconscious was a creative genius.

"So Dwight is one of these Dalek things?" Jim shook his head.

"Not entirely. If he was, he'd look sort of like a saltshaker with a plunger sticking out of it. That doesn't rule out crossbreeding, since they're technically organic beings, or even brainwashing, and those are still a stretch. I mean, Daleks absolutely hate humans. It's why they've been trying to kill them for ages." She could see he was getting irritated by just the thought of these Daleks, but she had a train of thought to chase.

"So these Dalek things are a race of alien super-soldier saltshakers?" Grinning, he nodded. "And Dwight is acting like one of them, even though he's obviously not a giant killer saltshaker?" Again, nodding. "And you know they've been to Earth a lot?"

"Definitely." Okay, she was just going to run with it now.

"So what if it was a sort of brainwashing? What if it was an experiment to make humans cannon fodder for an invasion? Armies of expendable soldiers ready when they needed them. It would cut down on the humans they'd have to take over, too." She stopped, hoping she was making sense and not just babbling, and looked for some sort of reassurance from him that it was at least a good attempt. All she received was an awed grin.

"I knew there was a reason I loved you," he said, placing a quick kiss on her forehead. "Knew there had to be something besides your smile."

"Hey!" she protested, crossing her arms over her chest even as she let out a smile. He laughed.

"Not to mention your sparkling personality, of course." She let her arms fall to her sides, openly beaming now, and he took a moment to enjoy it before returning to business. "It's a brilliant idea, though. Waves of programmed soldiers swarming their own kind. I hate complimenting Daleks, but, god, it's a genius idea. I'm disappointed I didn't think of it, though. I guess that's why they wanted me to find a good companion." Pam raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Who's 'they?'"

"No one," he replied a little too nonchalantly, turning back to the console. "Anyway, it sounds like we've arrived." He reached out to check a small display, which flickered to life as he touched it. With a silent nod from the brunet, it was gone, and the whirring began to fade from the background. He turned back to her and smiled. "We're here." She tilted her head bin confusion

"We're where?"

"Your apartment. It took a bit longer than I expected, but she's got her own way of working. Never really know what you're going to get."

Her eyes doubtful, she said, "We're at my apartment? Did we bust down one of my walls to get in?" He grinned.

"Nope. Only a wall in space. The TARDIS just sort of appears and disappears where she wants to. Or, if we're lucky, where I want her to." Now, of all times, she gave him a true dubious look. He kept smiling. "Go look for yourself. I promise the doors don't bite." His expression softened to a thoughtful one. "Well, they haven't yet."

Instilled with so much confidence and belief by his words, she approached the tall blue doors, so oddly right in this strange jumble of organic and unnatural. They swung easily open when she pushed, revealing the living room of her apartment, barely lit by the fading sunlight of an early June night. It was all a rush of calm and familiarity around her, and she rushed out to prove that it was real, not just an illusion. As tranquil as Jim's presence had made her, this was the final necessary touch.

"We really are here," she murmured in awe, turning sharply and suddenly to Jim, who was leaning in the doorway of the TARDIS. "It's real. You really have a space ship." He gave a tiny smile and a nod.

"As real as Angela's Precious Moments Bible." She gave him a small, momentary grin, dropping it for a more serious expression a moment later.

"So are you an alien?" she ventured, voice quieter now. "I mean, most humans don't have their own spaceships, let alone ones shaped like blue police boxes that can just appear wherever they want." He nodded vaguely, seeing the logic in her words, then looked her straight in the eye.

"Do you think I'm an alien?" he asked flatly. For a moment, he received no answer, only her eyes searching him over.

"I'm not sure," she finally admitted. "You look the same and all, but... All this Dalek and time travel and TARDIS stuff–it's way more than any human would know. You even know how to fly your ship. I just--I don't know. I don't know if you're really an alien or not." She paused, gauging his expression, then asked again, "So are you?" He glanced down at his feet, a vague smile forming on his lips, and his eyes drifted back up to meet hers.

"Honestly?" he asked rhetorically. "I don't know either. I don't know what I am anymore. I'm not an alien, not in a 'I landed here from another galaxy' sort of way, but I can't say that I'm entirely human anymore, either." She gave him a questioning look, and he sighed. "It's hard to explain. Listen, are you doing anything on your lunch break tomorrow?" She shook her head. "Good. I'll try to explain it all to you then, okay? Until then, I've got to do some research on this whole Dwight thing." She smiled.

"Got it. Lunch tomorrow. You can tell me all about your non-alienness and fill me in on whatever's going on with our bespectacled friend."

"It's a date," he replied, beaming at her. She moved next to him, standing on her tiptoes to place a quick peck on his lips. When she came back down, his smile had grown impossibly larger and he could barely contain himself. "God, I love you."

"I know," she responded, grinning back at him. "I love you too. Try not to let our Dwight-lek kill you in your sleep."

"I'll try. Good night."

"Night." She turned away, heading for her bedroom.

"Wait, Pam," he said, making her pause and look back. He was more somber now. "Act normal at work tomorrow. I'm not sure how much Dwight will remember."

"Aye, aye, captain," she replied with a faux salute. He laughed softly.

"Good, but I prefer doctor," he shot back, slipping into the TARDIS for a second before hanging his head back out the door. "Night, Pam." And like that, he was gone, door swinging shut behind him. Just a few moments later, the light mounted on top of the blue box began flashing, accompanied by the metallic whirring. It took only a few seconds after that for it to begin fading away, and it was completely gone in a couple more. All that was left was Pam in her living room, staring at where the TARDIS had been.

"Night, Jim."