A Spoilt Evening

by cookie-moi

Toby brings Nellie home after their unsuccessful date.

Title: A Spoilt Evening

Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The Office does not belong to me. Neither can I call chocolate mousse my own.
Summary: Toby brings Nellie home after their unsuccessful date.
Other: This is for Meg who asked me for a little fic before the new episode aired. I tried to finish this on time, but sadly I needed to sleep. So it's long after the episode aired now. Sorry, dear. *hugs you*
There are some things I'm not happy with but I couldn't figure out how to change them with my sleepy brain. Also there are mistakes which I'm going to look for tomorrow when I'm awake. I just wanted to finally post this. Still I hope you like it a bit. Enjoy. ^^

~~o~~

Toby doesn't lie to himself when he sees her vanishing in the direction of the restrooms. This date is a mess. Actually, it's not a mess because it would mean that at least the food would be good and waiter competent while Toby himself doesn't get one word out of his mouth for fear of not talking but babbling.

But the service is bad. Really bad. It is actually quite catastropic.

There is also no choice but to accept that food and service will not make up for the lack of conversation which really unnerves Nellie. He can see it. Even a blind man could see how put out she is with him and their whole evening.

He doesn't have to be a fortuneteller to know that she hadn't wanted to go to dinner with him at all. In the end she had given in. Though why, he still has no idea. It definitey wasn't the idea of a good service as he has to admit that it's the absolutely worst one he has ever gotten in this restaurant were the waiters are usually reliable and competent. The tall and lanky guy is a new one though, chaging orders not deliberately and probably still finding his feed.

And find them he did.

Right after the main curse when he overmotivatetly brought the desserts. A nice dark chocolate mousse with whipped cream and a cherry on top. Nellie had been so looking forward to it and he had found himself mesmerized by the smile on her lips and the first unforced happiness in her eyes, by the candlelight gleaming over her red strands and setting them on fire, or the delicate curve on her neck when she encouragingly winked at the nervous waiter.

Who then tripped over his own two feet and send the chocolate mousse flying. Directly onto the low neckline of her white blouse and onto her lap.

And then the embarrassed and panicing waiter had done the first thing that came to his mind and tried to be overly helpful by trying to clean her up. Smearing the chocolate mousse even more into her blouse and onto her skin.

Toby really hoped that the imprint of her hand on the poor guys cheek would fade in a few days.

She had told the waiter off, had fumed quite heavily at the more and more embarrassed looking while frequently apologising restaurant manager who had come running when she had jumped up from her chair, and had then turned around without a word and walked towards the restrooms.

And now all is left of the evening is to wait for her returning from the restroom while hoping that she has calmed down. He thanks the restaurant manager for the apology and the offer to take over the bill of both the dinner and the dry cleaner and sends the man away.

He takes his glasses of for a moment and rubs over his eyes, feeling the tension in his neck and shoulders only intensifying.

What a wonderful evening.

Frustrated by the spoiled evening, angry at his own lack of talking and afraid that she won't talk to him again he sighs deeply and leans back against the back of the chair for a moment.

This has not been what he had planned.

With another sigh he stands up, puts his glasses back on his nose again, pulls his jacket from the chair and then collects her purse and coat. Then he walks towards a great potted plant close to the restrooms to wait for her, ignoring the occasional curious looks of the other guests as he passes them. Their evening was definitely better than theirs.

Toby shakes his head slihtly as he reaches the potted green. Nellie's and his evening. But not theirs. There is no they, no we, no us. As much as he'd like there to be.

Time to be honest with himself. He blew it.

Quite thoroughly.

~o~

When Nellie finally returns from the restroom, dark chocolate smears on her skirt and blouse, she simply grabs for her coat and pulls it on without taking him up on his offer to help her. She's not looking at him when she frees her loose hair from the collar, still fuming with anger but not about to verbally lash out anymore.

Toby has to violently pull his gaze from the damp and slightly transparent patches on her white ruined blouse, which reveal a nice amount of lace to the world, and instead lets it travel over her neckline to her heated face.

Her chin seems to be determinedly clenched, her cheeks red with anger and her walk brisk. But the dark rings beneath her eyes and their tired expression tell him that it is only an act laid on for the guests and other waiters.

And she's about to stop acting any time now.

So he just hands her her purse, waves the returning restaurant manager of and leads her outside to his waiting car.

~o~

This morning he had been looking forward to driving her home. Now he wonders if the traffic lights have conspired against him as he has to stop at each and every single one of them.

A situation which he would have liked and imagined as quite pleasant when he had entered the office shortly after 9am. His imagination had filled the ride home with easy converation and laughter, or her teasing him about catching every red traffic light. Not with an awkward silence.

But silence it was. Pressing down on them, only to be disturbed when Nellie moves her legs and her skirt or coat rustles against the seat. Occasionally she pulls her blouse away from her chest and groans at the mess it has ended up as. Othertimes she sighs and just stares out of the passenger's window.

Toby stays quiet, not knowing what to say it seems the best course of action. Instead he concentrates on the road, changing gears uneasily as he can feel the warmth of her knee everytime he reaches for the gear shift. If he's not careful he will brush his fingers either against her bare skin, which had been a forbidden fantasy still that morning, or just grab her knee completely.

She'd loose her temper or tell him off either way.

So he just keeps driving. Careful of where his hand is reaching while letting her keep to her own thoughts to calm down.

~o~

When he finally parks in front of her house the silcence just intensifies with the dying of the motor. For a moment all he hears is just his heart hammering away in his chest as he awaits her cold tone telling him that dinner had been a terrible idea and she won't try it again.

Instead she just sighs deeply after a few moments more and gets out of the car. He scrambles out of it after her. Hurrying around his car to walk beside her, to see her safely to her front door.

He has noticed several times before that she doesn't like to walk over the darkening car park at the office. The fading light always seems to make her anxious. So walking alone in the darkness to her front door must be rather unsettling.

For a moment the painful thought if she isn't more unsettled by his presence than possible lonelyness rushes through his mind. He pushes it back. It's a stupid idea.

No matter how catastropic the evening was she still wouldn't want to walk alone.

His steps are quiet beside her heels clacking over the pavement and the path to her front door. A street lamp colours the grass a dull grey and the roses beside her door seem to be black.

Reaching her door she turns to him and he doesn't know what to say. There is so much on his mind but nothing he can or wants to tell her. And nothing she would like to hear anyway, as she doesn't like his rambling.

Nellie's face lies in the shadows while she searches through her purse for her keys. Silence settles between them. This blasted silence.

Anger flares in him as he scold himself for having ruined his maybe only chance with her due to his inability to say the right things and therefore restricting himself to necessities.

A jingling sounds from her purse as she finally finds her keays and pulls them out.

For a moment she stares up to him, his face hiding in the darkness as the streetlamps shines against his back.

He says nothing.

Just like he hasn't done the whole evening.

For a moment she thinks herself foolish for even thinking that it might change in front of her door but then angrily clenches her keys in her hand before she feels as if she can speak without sounding either hurt or lashing out in aggravation.

"Goodnight, Toby."

Nellie makes to turn around but a hand losing around her wrist stops her. She freezes.

Suddenly her heart is hammering in her chest. Not in a good excited way, anticipating a thank you or a goodnight kiss, but in blatant fear rising from her anxiety. His hand is hot and strong around her wrist, his fingers closing around it completely. If he tried to he could break it within a second.

Her fingers cramp around her keys and she sets to step back when he sinks his head and looks at his shoes.

"I'm sorry about this terrible evening."

Her breathing stops and she collides with the door. Immediately his hands are at her waist and elbow. Pulling her back onto her feet, the worried look on his far too close face easing her fear into uneasiness.

Carefully she pushes him away and reassures him that she hasn't hurt herself. Her hand squeezes his for a moment before she winds it and her arm around her stomach and open coat to keep warm in the slightly cold evening breeze.

Toby still looks nervous and as if he fears that she will throw insults or incursions at him any moment. And yes, even though she had considered it after the spoilt evening she can't.

And if she's quite honest he could have done worse.

Shifting on her legs closer to him she smiles up at him in a hopefully reassuring way.

"You know, it wasn't the best date I ever had." And it's true. No date where she ends up scraping chocolate mousse from her blouse could ever considered anything like perfect. "But believe me when I say, it wasn't the worst either."

There are definitely worse things one can scrape from a blouse.

And if she is honest his shy manner was actually quite charming up to a point were she really wished he'd stop censoring and regulating his words and just talk. Instead she had done all the talking, exhausting any topic she could think of while he just sat there – and she had been bored by it. But he had listened to her and enjoyed to be with her at dinner. Had enjoyed to take her out and see her happy.

The last man to do that hadn't been Henry, no. It had been some old leech she had meet in Florida who had feigned interest for only one reason. And lead by alcohol and his charms she had fallen for that ruse.

But Toby is not like that old guy. Bumbling as he was he had only a good time at dinner and her enjoyment in mind. Never some other ulterior motives.

She is not quite sure why she thinks or even considers the next thing she says but she tells him anyway.

"Let's try it again next week."

For a moment he is quiet, as if he still has to decipher the meaning behind her words before he shifts and she can see the smile on his now brightened face. He nods enthusiastically and for a moment she already begins to wonder if she made a mistake.

But everyone deserves a second chance like her brother always says.

It gets silent between them again. Somewhere in the distance the scream of a cat and the noise of a garbage can's lid hitting the ground is heard. The faint horn of an ambulance grows weaker as the seconds tick by.

Nellie looks up to him again, the street light playing over his glasses and hiding his eyes. He's biting his lip and looks as if he's desperately searching for something to say. The soft breeze strokes against her bare legs and she hides a shiver. Cold air strokes around her legs and she wants nothing more than to get inside.

So without further ado she turns to her door and fiddles her key in the lock, aware of his warm presence behind her. She'd be worried, but he won't hurt her. He hadn't hurt her when he caught her wrist but rather surprised her. For a moment she is sure that he'd never let anything happen to her.

Turning the key and opening the door a smidge, she pulls the keys out again and into her coat pocket before she turns around to say goodbye. Though she's not quite sure how.

A handshake is too formal, a kiss on the lips, no matter how short and soft, definitely the wrong signal for their relationship. So she settles for the good old kiss on the cheek. Leaving any further development in their relationship to the future.

When she steps towards him, unconsciously following the flutter of his hands by his side with worried eyes, he breathes out deeply and then puts his hands inside his pockets.

Nellie realises that he knows that he has frightened her minutes before. And that he is sorry.

Sometimes she wonders who this man in front of her really is. She has seen him going from a rambling boring professor going to a passionate man or a determined and considerate companion.

But tonight is not the time to find out as her mousse soaked blouse clinging to her skin reminds her. So she smiles up and kisses his cheek quickly and quitely. Ignoring the loss of heat beneath her lips when she recedes from him her hand still lingers on his arm for a moment longer, marveling in the warmth of his skin.

"I need to get inside before-"

For a split second she wonders if he's going to kiss her when he touches her elbow to keep her steady. She hadn't even heard him move his hands within his jacket.

"You know, I'm sorry."

"For what?" Too late she realises how many answers there actually are for her question.

Her heart starts hammering when the thought 'Please don't say 'For inviting you do dinner' screams through her mind.

"For not saying much tonight. It's just- " He sighs deeply and his voice sounds pained suddenly. "I did not wish to bore you."

Her hand glides from his arm while she rubs the fingers of the other one over her temple. "But I was bored."

Toby cringes when he hears exasperation and hurt in her voice.

She glances up to him, wishing she could see his eyes behind the light his glasses are reflecting. "I'd rather hear you rambling than drown in silence."

The silence descents upon them again. She waits for him to respond but he does not.

Nellie closes her eyes. This is a catastrophe. Just like dinner itself. He hasn't talked then, so how can she even think that it might change when they say goodbye. Or try to talk about the evening.

Maybe they she should have just gone inside. They could have talked about this in the morning.

Only she knows that they wouldn't have. He might have tried but knowing herself better than anyone Nellie is more than certain that she would have simply pushed it into the back of her mind and conveniently 'forgot' about it.

She has done it before. At christmas. So how could it somehow be different.

A dog's bark finally breaks the silence between them.

Toby's voice is quiet, nearly not detectable to the human ear as it so often is. "I'm sorry."

She knows he is, he always is.

But right now it vexes her.

"Stop apologising." Her tone is harsher than she wanted it to be. But she just doesn't want to hear more apologies from him today. He tried his best and it wasn't the worst evening ever she spend with a man. So there is no need for him to feel sorry.

"Sorry."

Nellie clenches her hand in slowly growing irritation.

"Really, stop it." Maybe she should just turn around and go inside. Then she wouldn't feel like there is a telling off for him coming.

Toby doesn't miss the tone of her voice or how the soft nuances of her accent change when she says his name. And he feels bad for making her angry at the end of their evening. The guilty feeling of getting on her nerves settles into his mind and awakens the insecurity he so often feels around women, but especially her.

"I'll try, Nellie. It's just this whole evening was a disaster, where I thought it would be quite nice. And I'm..." He sighs before he cringes as he realises what he is going to say. And then he just tiredly smiles at her. "Sorry for it."

There is that word again. The one she has heard too many time today. From the overly clumsy waiter, from the ever annoying apologetic restaurant manager, and from him.

Nellie's anger should be boiling over but instead it just collapses back upon itself and leaves her tired and fidgety.

"Toby-" Her voice is droned out by his.

"And I'm sorry for apologising again. I just can't seem to stop and-"

She's sure that they are just short from entering a neverending circle any second now. Him apologising and her wanting him to stop. She needs to try something different.

The only upside is that he's now talking more than during dinner.

"Toby." Her accent calmly caresses over his name as she tries to gain his attention.

"I knew you did not want to have dinner with me-" The man in front of her wrings his hands while he doesn't seem to take breaths between his sentences.

"Toby." Even the firmness in her voice is lost on him while he just keeps talking.

"But then you changed your mind-"

She tries it with more vehemence in her voice. "Stop talking"

But Toby doesn't stop. She's not even sure if he even heart her over his neverending blathering. She unwittingly got him to talk and now she's regretting it.

"And I was so looking forward to spend an evening with you so-"

He continues rambling but Nellie's mind stops for a second. Throughout the evening he was a gentleman. Picking her up from her own home with a boquet of flowers, driving her to the restaurant, seeing to her happiness, listening to her, trying to keep him from displeasing her with the one thing she disliked most about him – his tendency to get lost in things while talking. He dealt with the waiter when she got too angry, send the restaurant manager away when he felt her exasperation, and tried to lighten her mood and brought her to her door. Without ever expecting something.

And then she realises that it is having been bored after she had talked her voice raw, neither the rambling nor the silence that has been vexing her during their time together but the lack of his stolen touches she has grown accustomed to.

She just needs a way now to make him stop talking so she can remedy it.

"Sorry Nellie, I shouldn't have taken-"

There is only one thing she can think of to make him shut up. And it is not something she often says or a situation she finds herself regularly in but it's the only thing will do the trick.

"That cherry is still in my bra."

Toby immediately stops dead silent, his mouth open midsentence. She gently closes it with her fingers.

For a moment she let's her fingers linger on his lips as she suggestively smiles up to him and runs her other hand over his chest. Then she leans up closer to him, pressing her hand against his body as she leans closer to him. Her mouth barely inches away from his.

"Now let's put that silence to some use."

And then she tugs him down by the tie to press her lips against his, only drawing back when she pushes her front door open and pulls him inside.

~~o~~

Here you are again. Have some cookies while you maybe write a little review. Or just happily munch away. *gets out cookie jar*
Meg, I am awaiting your verdict. ;)