They stood very close to each other on the first floor landing in the stairwell.

"This," Angela waved the typewritten paper in front of her disdainfully, "is ridiculous.   What are you thinking, Dwight?"

"What do you mean, what am I thinking?"

"I told you," she hissed through clenched teeth and looked from side to side nervously.  "I do not want to play a spy roleplay game with you."

"Angela.  I didn't write that letter."  Dwight placed a hand on her tiny bird shoulder.  "And I still think it would be really fun if you would just let me interrogate you."  She glared a special Angela glare that always filled him with a strange mixture of fear and lust.  "This is bigger than even our true love, Monkey.   This is real."  He waved the paper much as she had a moment earlier. "Something big is about to happen, and someone was wise enough to know that we were to be trusted."

She sighed and looked up at him, lips pursed.   "Very well.   But, if I walk into that conference room at 6:30 and find you there in that costume, I will Not.  Be.  Pleased.   Do you understand?"

"Of course, my lady.  Now, run back up to the office.   I will take the elevator from the lobby so we do not arouse suspicion."

"Dwight."  That glare again.  "You know how I feel about that word in public!"

"Sorry.   We don't want to attract suspicion.  Now, back to your station."

Sometimes Angela wondered how she managed to get in to these things.