Basically this is just a collection of my own little fantasies, proving that I spend too much time on this show. Next up will be a Jim/Pam story, because what office fanfiction would be complete without one?
Summary: Michael goes on a date (!), and ends up making someone else a tad jealous.
That's What She (They) Said
As Michael Scott leaves for the day, he pulls out his cell phone to see if he has missed any calls. This is a daily occurrence for him, checking to see if anyone has called him, and usually no one has. And if someone has, it's typically a wrong number. Or his mom.
So as he flips it open he is excited to see the screen flashing 1 missed call. He dials his voicemail, and his anticipation grows, almost reaching a breaking point when he hears a familiar voice on the line.
"Hello, Michael this is Carol," her voice sounds slightly hesitant, and she is quick to add, "Uh—your Realtor. I was just calling to check up on…your condo, make sure everything's well, and just…give me a call back, if you want," there is a pause before she says, "It was nice to see you the other night and…I hope you're doing great."
He stands frozen by his car, a mystified expression on his face. Carol the Realtor has called him. He can't remember the last time a woman has called him, other than Jan—who had recently taken to having a third party on the line whenever she was required to speak to him—and his insides suddenly feel warm. And a little queasy.
He debates for about eight seconds if he should return her call. Surprisingly, he isn't a big expert on women, but even he can tell that she isn't interested in his condo. She wants her some Michael Scott lovin, he thinks as he dials her number and waits anxiously for her to answer.
His stomach gives a jolt as he hears a voice ask, "Hello?"
A child's voice.
"Hello there, little one," he says, his voice sing-song, "Is your mommy home?"
The child gives a shriek, and he jumps. As his heart rate returns to normal, he hears Carol demand to have the phone.
"I'm not kidding, Charlie, give me the phone or NO dessert…hello?" Her voice is frazzled.
His stomach swims as he tries to sound suave. "Carol, Michael Scott."
"Oh, hi, Michael. I'm sorry, but now is not really a good time, would I be able to call you back—"
"No big deal, this will only take a sec."
He suddenly feels brave and knows that later this feeling will leave him. It will be replaced with the lack of confidence and self-doubt that usually inhabits him and leaves him speechless. Or worse, doesn't leave him speechless.
"I was just wondering—" he continues, "—if you would like to meet me at Chili's tonight. For some dinner."
There is a pause during which Michael is sure he is going to vomit all over the Sebring.
"Tonight's really not a good night, but—"
"Fine. That's fine. Nope, I understand. But I just want to say that I make an excellent date and you don't know what you're missing."
"Michael—"
"Good day!"
"Just a minute!" she exclaims, "Let me finish. Tonight's really not a good night, but if I don't get out of here I'm going to go crazy."
He clears his throat and tries to think of something to say to redeem himself.
"Uh…well—okay. Okay, I'll meet you at Chili's then. How's seven sound?"
"Great."
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It's well past seven-thirty when she arrives, and he begins to panic, wondering if maybe it's the new thing to arrive late. She hasn't seen him yet. He could duck out and come back in fifteen minutes.
He stands to do so, but she sees him then and smiles and waves.
They exchange greetings, and he takes her coat for her. There's an awkward moment where he's not sure what to do with it, but he quickly places it in the booth next to him.
She smiles.
"You smell nice," he says, and unlike Jan, she thanks him graciously.
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He manages to make it through dinner without making a complete fool of himself and when he walks her to her car, he feels a familiar sense of emptiness begin to creep back inside of him, undoubtedly due to the fact that the night is ending.
"Thank-you, Michael. I had a great time tonight."
"Sure, sure."
He opens the door for her and is suddenly hit with the sensation that he's been here before, that he's done this before.
And he realizes he has. With Jan.
He shakes his head. Forget it.
She looks at him expectantly, and for a few moments they just stare at each other.
"Well…" she says, and he nods at her.
It should be easy to kiss her, but his palms are sweaty and his stomach's turning circles. He feels like a teenager, so he's sure she does too. For crying out loud, we're adults.
"I had a great time," she adds, and he can tell she's about to leave. In a moment she'll be gone, and he'll have lost his chance.
He laughs nervously, "Well, I'm a great date, and really…cool."
And then he kisses her. Leans right in--without thinking anymore--and just does it. But that doesn't shake the sense of feeling like a teenager, and as she kisses him back that thought makes him feel ecstatic.
He pulls away and realizes he could love this woman, could easily love her more than anything in his life. But he knows he loves to easily; he loves Carol like he loves the mail lady and the woman who bags his groceries. He loves her like he loves the girl at Blockbuster, and their waitress at Chili's, the hostess, the woman sitting nearby…
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He's in his office with Jim the next morning, telling him all about Carol the Realtor.
"I mean really, she's the perfect woman. Smart. Beautiful. Rich. Not to mention I want kids, and she already has two—package deal, you know what I'm saying?"
His phone rings, and Jim looks grateful for an excuse to leave.
"Michael Scott," he says upon answering it.
"Michael, it's Jan. I'm calling to set up a meeting, we need to go over your branch's figures. I'm free Thursday, but I wouldn't be able to come until the evening, I have a meeting in the morning. Does that work for you?"
Unable to believe his luck, he stammers, "Uh—no, I have a date. How does Friday sound?"
There's silence on the line, and if there's one thing he loves more than a beautiful woman, it's a beautiful, jealous woman.
"Oh do you? A date…well, then—I would have much rather gotten this done and over with earlier, but if you can't until Friday…fine. Friday's fine."
As he hangs up the phone, he smiles to himself and says quietly, "Michael Scott, you dog!"