Title: Late Night Visitor

Rating: PG/PG-13ish

Characters: The Office, Michael/Holly

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Purely for entertainment purposes

Author's note: Has potential to turn into smut if readers so desire...

Turning over in bed for the 17th time that night, I look at the clock. The red numbers that light up my room blaze 3:00 AM. I stare at them for a while and when I finally close my eyes again, the time is burned on the back of my eyelids. Fixing the pillows, I itch my nose and brush the hair out of my face. I'm startled by a tapping noise at the window. Eyeing the dead branch a few inches from the glass, I turn back over and I repeat "call tree man tomorrow" in my head. With the 3:00 disappearing behind my eyelids as I fall asleep.

A few hours later I awake with a start. *THUD* The moon shines up through my window as an ear piercing scream fills the room. "OWWWW!" cries the man holding his shin.

"Michael? Is that you?" My voice cracks as I pull the covers to my chest protectively.

"Yeah, yeah." He says in defeat as he sits in the middle of the room rubbing his leg while making a hissing noise.

"What on earth are you doing here?"

"Your door was locked." He says looking up at me. "I had to see you."

"Michael," I say, "you promised me you wouldn't do this…" as I lower the covers back down to the bed. I get up and walk over to him, lifting his pant leg as I sit down Indian style on the rug.

"I know what I said, Holly." He looks down at me.

"Then why are you here?"

"It's so hard, Holly. I just can't get you out of my head. The littlest things remind me of you." He says, his voice gradually getting faster. "Today I ordered a hamburger for lunch from the joint down the street. I found myself saying "No sesame seeds on the bun, please" then I remembered you weren't here to split it with me."

"Oh, Michael" I say with a breathless sigh. "It's been hard to me too…"

I think I can see tears brimming in his eyes, but I convince myself that it's just my sleepy eyes playing tricks on me.

"And you know, I always envisioned us doing that Lady and the Tramp thing? You know, the thing with the spaghetti?"

I smile faintly and look down at the gash on his leg.

"Hold on, I'll go get a band-aid and antiseptic." I say as I stand up and walk quietly into the bathroom adjoining my bedroom.

The lights flicker on around the mirror and blind me. Squinting, I open the vanity in search of the needed materials. "Band-aids, band-aids, band-aids." I find myself whispering while looking for the box. Grabbing the box, the bottle of antiseptic, and a few Kleenexes, I shut the light off and walk back into the room. I begin to unscrew the top of the antiseptic as my eyes adjust to the darkness of the room which doesn't change quick enough. I end up tripping on the rug next to my bed and the things in my hands go flying as I hit the ground, the antiseptic spilling across the floor.

"Holly! Holly? Are you ok?" Michael says as he scoots over to me on the floor, gathering the stuff on the way.

"Perfect!" I exclaim as the back of my head collides with the wall. "Just perfect." All of a sudden the tears well up in my eyes.

A moment passes in silence as Michael hears me sniffling.

"Holly, if something's wrong please tell me!"

"Oh, don't you GET it, Michael? Everything is wrong."

"It's ok. That bottle of antiseptic couldn't have been more than a few dollars…I'll go buy you another bottle if that's what you want…"

"No", I laugh "it's not that. It's us. It's me. I sit at my desk all day thinking of us. How much fun we had miniature golfing…how much fun we had at the food court-" I pause and smile slightly, "and later that night…" I say quietly.

"That chicken noodle soup was fantastic" he says, nudging my side.

"I just didn't think it'd be this hard."
"You know I've been just as miserable as you." He says and puts his hand on my thigh.

I look down at his hand, close my eyes and shake my head.

"I just-I just don't know what to do, Michael. I'm so torn."

"Maybe we can give it one more shot, even with the distance." Michael says and I turn and face him, tears evident on my face.

"Oh, Holly," he says as he notices the wet tracks on my cheeks "don't cry." He moves his hand from my thigh to my face as he wipes them away. Tracing his thumb across the apple of my cheek and down my jaw line to my chin he pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. I take a deep breath and as I exhale, the strap of my camisole falls off my shoulder. With my face looking down, I shift my eyes up to meet his. That new but familiar desire clouds his eyes.

"Are you trying to seduce me Mrs. Robinson?" He says in his best Dustin Hoffman impression.

"Well, no…but I-"

Before I could get my words out, his lips crash hastily against mine. Our teeth click and I close my eyes. His hands tangle in my hair as I keep mine in my lap. The taste of peppermint faintly on his lips makes me wonder if he knew this was going to happen tonight, if he knew I was going to cave. He leans away from me out of breath and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face.

"You know…you do still technically owe me that Yoga lesson…" he whispers in my ear and smiles.