Disclaimer: This is my first fic. I'm from Britain, but I much rather watch the American OFFICE. Dwight is amazing!! I hope you guys enjoy it. It's a short chapter, but I should have more soon! I don't own these, and I receive no profit for them! So please refrain from lawsuits.
The clouds over Scranton, Pennsylvania were dark. It wasn't hard to predict that a storm was in their near future. The last of the leaves went away with the last days of autumn. Dwight Schrute pulled his long brown jacket tighter around himself as he walked around his car and popped the trunk to pull out his briefcase.
He was pleased to see he was the first one there. That way he could get everything in order, and organize Michael's office so he'd have a nice and comfortable day.
As he approached the front doors of the building, he could see a small form huddled in between a couple of bushes near the corner. He approached with caution, one hand resting on the can of pepper spray clipped to his belt loop.
"Who goes there?" He shouted. As he drew closer he could see the person shifting about, as though trying to hide. Dwight softened his step at first, but when he caught sight of a delicate Birkenstock clad foot, he broke into a run. His fears were confirmed when he saw a tiny shivering Angela Martin curled up into the fetal position.
"Monk…Angela?" He choked kneeling down next to her and running his hand over her arm. It felt like icy and damp and when he pulled his hand back he realized why. Blood. There was blood on the delicate arm he used to place soft kisses on as she slept at night. One of the two arms that would wrap around his neck as they shared the outdoor shower at his farm, to conserve water.
As he examined her closer he noticed her arm wasn't the only part of her that was injured. Her face and throat were riddled in cuts and bruises, her lip was split, and her clothes were torn and bloody. Her normally pristine hair was pulled in different directions and there was blood clumping it together. But what concerned him the most was the far away look in her normally alert brown eyes.
"Angela…what's wrong?" He demanded pulling off his coat and wrapping it around her trembling form. All she had on was a sheer white button-down shirt with only a couple of buttons remaining, a pair of black slacks, and her Birkenstocks with no socks.
The petite woman shook her head and buried her face in her knees. "Angela speak to me! Who did this to you?" Angela shook her head again. Dwight growled softly and took hold of his former lover's arms. "I'm going to take you to the hospital. Okay? I need you to cooperate with me so I can give them reliable information…Angela? Are you listening?"
For a moment he expected her to ignore him. Just as he was lifting her into his arms to carry her to his Trans Am, he heard it. It was a soft whimper. Almost a wisp of air. But he heard it nonetheless.
"Andy."
More to come soon…That's what she said…REVIEW!!