On Monday, Marsha woke to the sound of the phone ringing. She rolled over toward her nightstand to make the bad noise go away, but before she got the chance, she heard the faint tone of her answering machine's recorded message down in the kitchen. Feeling relieved she covered her face with her quilt and was drifting off to sleep again when she remembered: Jim. She had given Jim this number. And being the normal person that he was, and not someone who made their living between 7:30 pm and 3 something am, he had called at 9:00 in the morning.

In a panic, she scrambled out of bed and raced toward the kitchen, the sounds of Jim's voice accompanying the banging of her bare feet on the hardwood in her hallway. Halfway down the stairs she realized that, had she been thinking rationally, she could have just picked up the phone in her room. As it was, she made it to the kitchen just in time to hear him say "...so you can just give me a call back and let me know what time would work for you. Thanks. Bye."

Great, she thought. Now she'd have to be the one making the phone call again. She hit the little button to listen to the entire message. He had a nice voice and he seemed very polite, if a little confused by her letter. With a sigh she trudged back up the stairs and fell face forward down on her bed. She'd deal with Jim later.

By the time she finally got up the nerve to call back, it was close to two in the afternoon. She dialed the number and the extension he'd left on the phone. She had considered not dialing that extension, which would give her a chance to talk to Pam if she wanted to, but she was starting to feel a little guilty about what she was thinking about doing with Pam's letters. And she'd just as soon not have a conversation with Pam right before talking to Jim.

"Hi you've reached Jim Halpert at Dunder-Mifflin..." Voicemail. Perfect. She waited for the beep.

"Hi Jim, this is Marsha Platz. I'm sorry I missed your call. I was hoping we could meet sometime maybe later this week? Afternoons are best for me, so just give me a call back if you would." She hesitated for a minute, trying to decide if she should give him a clue as to what their meeting would really be about, but then she decided she really needed to talk to him about all that in person. She finished the message: "Okay. Well, I'll talk to you later. Bye."

Marsha and Jim traded a few more messages after that and by Wednesday afternoon they'd arranged to meet the following day at a coffee shop downtown around 3:00. As Marsha entered the Dunder-Mifflin office on Wednesday night she was still feeling a little guilty about her plans to meet with Jim, but that didn't stop her from heading straight to Pam's garbage can. She collected three more letters and then headed to Jim's desk. She wanted to see if there was anything either on top of his desk, or in his own trash that would give her some insight into what to expect tomorrow. But his desk was relatively clean, as usual, and there was nothing in the trash but memos and a few faxes. She was just about to turn to Karen's desk when the door to the office opened and she had to begin working with the rest of the cleaning crew.

When she arrived home that night she pulled out Pam's letters. They were short, but tonight that was a good thing. She needed something short but sweet for her meeting with Jim. The first one she picked surprised her.

Dear Pam,

I love you so much. I was so wrong to move away and never call you and come back with someone I'll never love as much as I love you. You're my best friend and you make me smile and you're so beautiful. I love the way you make me laugh and all the good memories we've shared and I especially love the look on your face when you know you've just gotten away with something devious. I know lately I've a hard time telling you stuff like this, but I thought maybe if I wrote it in a letter it would be easier. And that way we could avoid another awkward conversation. We seem to have had way too many awkward conversations already. So why don't you just write back to let me know if I should come over there and kiss you senseless.

Love,

Jim

Okay, okay so you didn't really write this to me. But it's what you should write. I mean seriously Jim--don't you think you should write me this note? Everything would just be so much easier if I walked into work one day and found this lying on my desk. Well, it was just a thought. I guess we'll have to do this the hard way after all.

Marsha chuckled a little as she read over Pam's letter again, but as much as she had enjoyed it, it was definitely not going to work for tomorrow's meeting. She unfolded the next letter, hoping it would prove more useful. And it did. In fact, Marsha was sure that this second letter would work. It was short and casual. Sure, it was a little flirtatious, but it probably wasn't anything more than a normal conversation Jim and Pam would have anyway. And hopefully if the rest of their meeting went well, Jim would be intrigued enough to follow Marsha's plan. Relieved that she'd found something suitable, Marsha turned her attention to the final letter.

Darling Jim,

Wow. I'm (silently) laughing so hard right now because it sounds outrageous to call you that, but the truth is I've secretly always wanted to call someone darling. I promise it won't happen again though. Or at least not for a very, very, very long time. So my darling--kidding! Oh no! Now I can't stop! Well, whatever I'm just gonna go with it. So darling, I've missed you. You were gone almost all afternoon. Why would you do that to me when you must know I can't live without you?

Aw crap. I was going to make this longer, but Michael just motioned me into his office, and from the hints he's been giving me, I could be in there for hours. If I send out a smoke signal S.O.S. will you come save me from him? Please? I'd love you forever if you did. Not that I can really help loving you as it is, but that's another story.

Hoping you'll come to my rescue,

Your darling delegate from Iceland

Marsha was somewhat confused by this letter, but she was happy that Pam had obviously been in a good mood when she'd written it. One of the things she liked best about Pam's letters was that she never knew what she was going to get. Pam's moods varied quite a bit and it was always interesting to see a different aspect of her personality. She felt like she had come to know Pam pretty well over the past few weeks despite the fact that they'd never had an actual conversation. This affinity she felt for Pam, only made her meeting with Jim tomorrow that much more important. She knew she had to go through with it now, but she was worried that without knowing it, she might end up doing something that would hurt Pam. As she switched off the light, she tried to convince herself that her plan was going to work, and that in the end Pam would be getting exactly what she really wanted.

-----

When he arrived at the coffee shop on Thursday the place was fairly busy. Mostly high school kids stopping by on their way home from school, plus the odd businesswoman impatiently tapping her foot while waiting in line. When his coffee was ready, he took it with him to a seat by the front window, relieved that there was an empty spot. He had a good view of the street from here and he watched the people walking by, wondering which one could be Marsha. He still didn't really know what this was about, but she had been insistent on the phone--almost begging him to meet her here, and he had to admit, he was a little curious to see what was so important to her. He settled back in his chair and scanned the shop once more. For the first time, he noticed someone eyeing him from the back corner. It was a woman, and when he caught her staring at him, she blushed and then began walking toward him. She was older than he was, but not old. Maybe late-40s if he'd had to guess. She wore a pair of old jeans and a sweater. As far as he could tell she wasn't wearing any make-up, but her hair was twisted up nicely. He stood to meet her and she nervously smiled and stuck out a hand to greet him.

"You must be Marsha." he said.

"Yes, and you're Jim?"

"Yeah." When she didn't say anything or move to sit down, he continued, "I'm sorry, can I get you something to drink?"

"Oh, no. No thank you, I'm fine." she said, sitting down at the table.

-----

So this was Jim. Marsha wasn't sure what she thought of him. She supposed he was good-looking, but what really concerned her wasn't his looks. She wanted to try to get a feel for his personality, something that would clue her in on how to proceed. She had come up with a couple different ideas for what to do at this point. Option A: she could just tell Jim that she'd been mistaken about the "items" she'd found and apologize for wasting his time. That wasn't what she wanted to do though, and she was thinking about it only as a last resort. Option B: she could try to explain in a general way that she thought he ought to do something about his current situation with Karen and Pam, but she felt like this wouldn't be nearly as effective as the last option she'd come up with, Option C. As they continued chatting, Jim's friendly demeanor and genuine charm convinced Marsha that she'd been right. This was going to work. Option C was the winner. Smiling to herself, she decided to get right down to business.

"So, you must be wondering about my letter."

"Actually, yes. I'm glad you brought that up. I still don't think I lost anything though. What was it you found?"

"Well, it's not really something you lost." she replied cryptically. "It's more like something I think you should have. Well, several things actually. Here--maybe I should just let you see for yourself." she reached down toward her purse, and took out a piece of lined paper.

"Just read this," she said.

-----

Jim unfolded the paper and was surprised to notice that it was written in Pam's handwriting. But what really stunned him was what she had written.

Dear Jim,

I have less than 2 more hours to go before I can escape this place. I have class tonight and then I think I'm going to watch Legally Blonde. I don't care what you say, that is too a good movie. It showcases the modern woman's ability to overcome all odds and win true love and her dream career all in one fell swoop. Plus the guy in it is really cute, so that's definitely an added draw. Still he's not as cute as some people I know.

Shoot. Dwight's coming! Gotta go!

Bye,

Pam

-----

It took Jim a few minutes to speak after Marsha handed him the letter. She spent the time looking out the front window at the dull gray sky and the coat-wrapped pedestrians meandering past the coffee shop. When Jim did speak it was in a much quieter voice than she had heard him use before.

"Where did you get this?" he asked. His face was guarded, as if whatever happened he wasn't going to let her see his reaction. For a minute she doubted herself again. Her stomach sank ominously. What had she just done?

"I found it," she cautiously replied. "Pam doesn't know I have it, but she didn't want to keep it, so I did."

"You know Pam?"

"Well, no, not really. It's a little complicated."

Jim raised his eyebrows, silently encouraging her to continue.

"Look, I just want to know if you'd like to keep this," she asked.

He paused again for a few seconds and her breath caught as she realized the enormity of the miscalculation she might have made.

"Yes," he said finally. "I'd like that."

"Okay. Good." She sighed with relief. "That's good. But here's the thing: I have more of these, but you're going to have to offer me something in return if you want to see them too."

"I'm sorry. What was that?"

"I have a proposition for you." She spoke slowly to hide the shakiness in her voice. "These letters aren't mine, but I'm the one who found them and they're special and I wouldn't want someone to get them who wasn't planning to appreciate them."

"I... believe me, I'd appreciate them." His voice was still quiet, but it was also achingly sincere. She couldn't help but think that maybe Jim had been missing Pam as much as Pam had obviously been missing him.

"Yes. I believe you would." With an encouraging smile she continued, "Here's what I'd like to do. From now on, when I come to clean Dunder-Mifflin I will leave you one letter on your desk from Pam. But in exchange you must leave me a letter from you to Pam." She couldn't help but be amused by the look on his face. It was like frozen panic.

"What...what are you going to do with them?" He asked.

"Read them," she answered, figuring she might as well be honest. "And don't worry, Pam wouldn't know. I mean, I hope she'd know eventually, but I wouldn't give them to her without your permission."

"But why? I mean first off, no. I can't possibly agree to that, but seriously why would you ask me to do that?"

She shrugged, noncommittally, afraid to say anything more. The truth was, she had come to treasure Pam's letters as a link to a world of romance that she hadn't been privy to in a long time. She knew it was wrong to keep them, but she wasn't going to give them up without some kind of a substitute to make up for their loss.

"I... look, I'm sorry," Jim continued "but I don't think you really understand what you're talking about."

"Yes I do Jim," she answered, looking him in the eye. She had meant for this to sound reassuring, but instead she could tell by his expression that he was spooked.

He stood suddenly and gave her another wary glance. She hadn't realized how tall he was before. He opened his mouth to speak again but then apparently thought better of it and abruptly turned toward the door.

"Jim, wait! Look, I know this all sounds crazy, but... just, if you change your mind, just leave me a note or something okay? Put it in your garbage can, so no one else will find it." If he said anything it was too quiet for Marsha to hear, and then with a swish the door had swung shut and Jim was gone.