TITLE: Grief To Grace
CHAPTER 3
"A bird funeral? So that's what that burned-up box was in the parking lot?"
A few hours into their conversation, Jan realized they'd become quite comfortable. Almost like that night in her hotel room all over again. Michael was propped against one arm of the couch, legs outstretched in front of him, and Jan had somehow found a spot between Michael's body and the inside of the couch, leaning back against his chest. On any other day, she could have -- and would have -- protested being in such close proximity to the man that continually drove her insane, but today? She needed this contact, this connection... for just some comfort and consolation, if nothing more.
"Yeah. That poor little guy. All alone..."
"Michael..." Jan closed her eyes and wished to close her ears against his tremulous voice.
"I can't die alone, Jan. I can't. I wouldn't be able to stand it. Having nobody there to sit with you, having nobody to hold onto..." As he said this last bit, his arm wound around her waist and pulled her back against him more tightly.
Jan didn't have the heart to move away. "I know how you feel, Michael," she said softly... so softly he couldn't hear it.
"This is not where I thought I would be at this age," he admitted.
"And where did you think you'd be?"
"Married. With at least a couple of kids, if not more."
Jan nodded against his shoulder, closing her eyes. She, too, figured she would have had at least a daughter and a son by now to spend her evenings with. Even if her marriage still would not have worked out, it would've been nice to have children to keep her company. "Yeah."
"I would've liked to have moved into a nice house in the suburbs, close to some of the good schools. A gorgeous three-bedroom house."
Jan hummed a little at the back of her throat, eyes still closed as she pictured a three-bedroom suburban house. As much as she loved New York, Michael painted quite an irresistible picture.
"Maybe with a big oak tree in the front yard, that I could hang a tire swing from," he continued. "My kids would spend their afternoons after school, taking turns on the tire swing, or playing in the piles of leaves in the fall... crunching through them..."
Jan felt herself falling deeper and deeper into a vivid picture of what Michael wanted, half-listening to each wonderful thing he listed off: A yellow school bus pulling up in front of the house, letting the kids off. The little girl would run up the driveway while the boy would walk and Michael would be waiting to greet them both on the porch. The little girl would jump into his arms for a big hug, and plant a loud kiss on his cheek while he asked about her day. He'd call the little boy 'Sport' affectionately and tousle his hair while he carried the little girl around.
The last coherent thought Jan had was that the little girl would have Michael's hazel eyes and her dark blonde hair... Natalie was a nice name for her...
"The thing that gets me the most about this whole thing, Jan, is that... what if I've already met the woman I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life with? What if I've met her, passed her by somehow, and didn't even know that she was 'The One'? You know? What if she's the woman that sat diagonal to me on the train to Philadelphia a couple weeks ago? What if she's the woman who works at the local coffee shop that always gives me extra napkins when I spill coffee on myself? What if--"
Michael looked down then, his lips scant centimeters from Jan's forehead, and he smiled to himself when he noted her closed eyes. "What if she's the woman who just fell asleep on me for the second time?" He dared to dust a kiss across her brow before leaning his cheek against her head, only for a moment. Then, he carefully maneuvered himself out from behind her and stealthily stood up, one arm still trapped under her back. Michael cautiously leaned down and slipped his other arm under her knees, praying that this would be as easy as it seemed in the movies.
"Come on, Jan." He swept her up into his arms, grunting only slightly as he straightened up.
Jan, in her half-slumbering haze, curled against him and laid her head on his shoulder, arms tightening around his neck even as she wearily slurred, "I should be getting home, Michael."
Michael chuckled to himself while carrying his deity toward the bedroom. "Jan, you're adorable; arguing with me even when you're half-asleep. You're staying here tonight."
"No I'm not," she protested sleepily, nuzzling further into his neck.
"Yes you are. Neither of us want to be alone tonight, so let's not be." He stopped in the doorway of his bedroom with her still in his arms, unwilling to cross the threshold until he made sure she knew, "I'd never take advantage of you, Jan."
The silence following his promise seemed to drag on forever, and Michael almost wondered if she'd fallen asleep again before he heard her voice, faintly responding, "I know."
"Trust me?"
"Mm-hmm." One arm started to slip from around his neck. She was falling asleep again.
But she'd told him all he needed to know. "Good. Then stay." He walked over to the bed with her and gently laid her down atop the covers. He then toed off his shoes and climbed in beside her, being careful to keep a foot of space between them. He promised he wouldn't take advantage, so he didn't want anything to be misconstrued.
However, he couldn't keep from reaching out to her, needing just a little contact... needing to make sure that he truly wasn't alone tonight. So, as she laid on her side facing away from him, Michael gently placed a hand on her back, just between her shoulder blades. His eyes traced the back of her head and down her spine, to the curve of her hip as he whispered, "Goodnight, Jan." Then, expecting silence, he closed his eyes.
Then she shifted. His hand slipped from her back and his eyes opened as she rolled over and curled against him again, slurring a "Goodnight, Michael," into his neck.
Michael smiled and, for the first time in a year, fell asleep with a smile on his face.
Jan stirred awake sometime in the middle of the night, blinking her eyes in an attempt to adjust to the darkness around her. Her head was moving up and down slowly, in sync with the rise and fall of the chest beneath her. She lifted her head and caught a glimpse of Michael, fast asleep. Her first instinct was to panic -- extract herself from the circle of his arms and bolt for the door. But then she was transfixed by the look on his face -- the slight, peaceful smile, and all traces of worry lines gone from his forehead.
She touched his chest with one hand and laid her cheek against it once more, wondering if he was sleeping as well as she had. What the hell did this mean? She'd thought it was odd that she'd been able to fall asleep on Michael Scott at all for the first time, but a second? This, she couldn't comprehend.
Sleeping next to someone required a certain amount of trust, the knowledge that they wouldn't do anything to harm you or take advantage while you dreamed. Sleeping on top of someone, however... that was trust of an intimate nature. More than just knowing they wouldn't harm you or take advantage -- which she knew Michael wouldn't purposely do. She even vaguely recalled him saying something like that to her earlier. But she slept on his chest, in his arms, trusting him not only to respect her, but to protect her in sleep as well. This concerned her.
Could she really see this as being something real? Something tangible that could be between her and Michael? Sure, there was an odd physical attraction. There always had been. Michael's unpredictable side, while a repellent at times, also intrigued her. His distinguished looks attracted her all the more.
Jan closed her eyes and thought of Michael's dreams -- that three-bedroom house in the suburbs with the tire swing and two wonderful children. Was that a picture she could be a part of? In her mind's eye, she again saw the boy and girl climbing off the school bus. The little boy walked up the driveway while the girl ran excitedly. Michael was there on the porch, waiting to greet them both with arms outstretched. The little girl jumped into his arms, excitedly called him 'Daddy' as he swung her around... asking about her day while she gave him a loud, sloppy little-girl kiss on his cheek.
Sure enough, in her mind's eye she saw the girl with Michael's hazel eyes and her own dark blonde hair. And the son... whose dark hair Michael was now tousling as he affectionately called the kid 'Sport... the son had her blue eyes. Jan opened her eyes.
She looked up at Michael and noted he was still wearing his work shirt and tie. An overwhelming feeling of affection came over her and she reached up to his neck, gently untying the windsor knot until the tie, undone, draped around his neck. Could she really see herself and Michael working out? And permanently enough that they would have a son and daughter living with them in the suburbs?
They fought constantly. Imagine what their home life would be like. However, as Jan recalled, their constant fights started when the documentary crew started showing up at Dunder Mifflin. Michael's cartoonish antics would piss her off, they'd fight, and she'd go home wondering why the hell she hadn't fired him yet. Without the cameras, in the safety of their own home, she just had this feeling that Michael would be very much how he was this past evening. Relaxed. Easier to communicate with. Open. Smarter. No longer showing off for anyone. Affectionate.
Jan, with her mind still wandering, reached up and undid the first button of his shirt. And then another. And then another, until her hand was resting against the cotton material of the white tee shirt he wore beneath. His heart was beating steadily under her palm and she could honestly see herself in a relationship with this man. And yes, she was tired of being alone. Of being lonely. That would always play a small role in her motivation to start something -- it did to begin with, anyway. But she was also tired of thinking about him constantly. She was tired of her heart skipping a beat when he'd accuse her of missing him. She was definitely tired of wanting to re-enact that Valentine's kiss with him at every turn.
So Jan opened another button on Michael's shirt and slipped her hand beneath, gliding it across his white-cotton-covered stomach to rest against his waist. She lifted her eyes to his face cautiously and saw his closed lids begin to flutter with activity. She felt his leg move against hers. She slid her hand quickly up his chest to grasp his shoulder and watched his eyes open.
"Jan?" Sleep clogged his voice, and he seemed to hold tighter to her, as if alarmed that she'd jump away at any second. He furrowed his brows at her, contemplating her in the dark.
She held his gaze, and was actually amused at the way he squirmed under her visual scrutiny.
"I didn't take advantage of you," he blurted.
Jan nodded. "I know you didn't. You wouldn't."
He shook his head in agreement. "Not ever."
"I know." She clasped his shoulder more tightly and slid up his body until they were face to face... until she hovered above him, his hands bracing her hips instinctively. "That's why I thought I'd give you the advantage."
And then Jan kissed him. Michael came fully awake at the first touch of her lips and held tighter to her waist as she lowered herself down, the length of her body resting atop his. "Please say you're sure about this," he murmured into her mouth, kissing her for all she was worth.
God, she forgot how uncharacteristically good he was at this. "Yes," she just barely managed to breathe against his lips, before he gently flipped them over and blanketed her body with his.
TBC
