"All set, Pam."

She slumped with relief. "Jesus. Thank you, Sadiq," she muttered gratefully. Immediately, she deleted the restored drafts.

Clutching her letter for Jim between white fingers, she stumbled into the ladies' room on shaky legs. She looked at herself in the mirror as she splashed cold water on her cheeks. After the recent incident where Michael accidentally forwarded a nearly-nude picture of Jan to everyone in the office, Pam had hoped she would be sympathetic. Fortunately, she had come through without asking more than a couple basic questions. "Never again, Doctor Pepper," she mumbled.

She squared her shoulders, cracked her neck, and checked her watch. 4:55 PM. She would take whatever he could give her at this point. Everything. Something. Nothing. Whatever. After what she'd just gone through, she was ready for anything. Like her mom always said, expect the worst, but hope for the best. She figured she could do that.

He had returned while she was gone, she noticed, walking out of the bathroom with her head held high. He popped up as soon as she sat down. "Hey Pam. Any messages while I was out?"

"Just one." She handed him the envelope without hesitation.

He turned it over in his hands, recognizing her handwriting. "What's this?" he inquired, smiling, eyebrows high. Not that he could put his finger on why, but she looked different.

"It's…" She paused. Not that she hesitated, she just needed a moment to decide how best to put it into words. "Everything I should have told you a very long time ago."

His gaze roamed over her face. Not better, not worse. Just… different. What was different? He nodded thoughtfully, considering. "Good or bad?"

Wasn't that a matter of perspective really? "I think it's good." She tilted her head at him and shrugged one shoulder. "I won't know if you agree until you read it."

Well, he'd asked for a sign. He kinda had a feeling he was holding it. He cleared his throat. "Wanna maybe stick around while I do?"

She bit her lip and looked down. Confidence, he realized with a start. She had definitely looked confident. He only realized it now because, biting her lip, she looked less so. No less adorable, though. "Um… okay," she agreed softly. "Roof, five minutes?"

He thought she'd never ask. He affected a careless shrug. "I guess. I'm no quadrangle, Beesly."

She giggled. He loved it.

A few minutes later, she followed him up to the roof. They left their coats on the rack. It was a breezy, beautiful, early May day. Still, she shivered in spite of the warm sunlight. "Cold?" he asked solicitously.

She shook her head convulsively as she pulled out her old lawn chair, avoiding his gaze. It was dusty, a little cobwebby, but none the worse for wear. "The phrase 'existential terror' comes to mind?"

He laughed, startled by her honesty. "I'll make it quick," he promised, dusting his off as well.

"Please do."

They settled into their chairs, side-by-side as usual. He tore into the envelope. Three pages, handwritten? Wow. Intrigued, he crossed his legs and began to read.