TITLE: Grief To Grace
CHAPTER 2

"Goodnight, Michael."

Michael swung around in his chair, which had been facing the window, to see Pam leaning against the doorway, already in her coat. "Goodnight, Pam. Thank you for the beautiful eulogy today, and the song."

She smiled. "You're welcome. The camera guys already headed out, and said to say goodbye." After a beat, she asked, "Will you be okay?"

Michael nodded and waved his hand dismissively, as if what had happened today had been no big deal at all. "Oh yeah." He rose to his feet. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I'm tough. Strong." He came around the desk and struck a 'Muscle Beach' pose for emphasis.

Pam nodded slowly and just barely twitched a smile, her usual response to his jokes. "Okay then."

"Thanks again, Pam."

Surprisingly, she reached out and gave him a brief hug, patting his back. "You're welcome, Michael." Then she left, leaving Michael once again alone with his thoughts.

He paced in his office for what felt like hours before finally giving up and deciding to go home. Then it hit him again. Home, where he was all by himself. Where nobody was there to greet him with a smile and an affectionate, "Hello, Michael. How was your day?" It was only himself... well, and his cello-playing neighbors on the other side of his condo's too-thin walls.

Michael sighed and grabbed his coat, pulling it on and heading for the door, opting to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Once downstairs, he took a moment to button his coat and find his car keys before he stuffed his hands into his pockets and ventured out into the crisp October evening. His eyes remained on the pavement as he walked, not wanting to look at the remnants of the bird funeral or at the spot where it had hit the glass and died. He only looked up when he heard a familiar voice.

"Hello, Michael."

There, leaning against his car, was the one woman who could still make his heart flutter despite how many times she'd broken it. "Jan." His feet carried him to her on auto-pilot while his eyes remained cemented on hers, wondering why she was here.

"Pam called me," she told him, as if reading his thoughts. "Said you might need somebody to talk to you."

"Oh." He tucked his chin, watching his feet again with sudden interest.

"So..." Her voice came out tentative, but still with an air of concern and -- Michael dared to hope -- affection, as she asked, "How was your day?"

"Oh, you know, it was..." He shook his head and blew a puff of air through his lips, trying to find the words. "It was..."

He looked up at her again and Jan nearly came undone at the liquid vulnerability in his eyes. "Michael..."

"It wasn't the best day, Jan."

His voice came out strained, choked with pent-up tears, and Jan had all she could do not to wrap her arms around him. "Would you like to talk about it?"

To her surprise, he shook his head and threw a longing glance toward his Sebring. "I just want to go home."

"Oh." Jan was also surprised by the overwhelming disappointment she felt; surprised by the ache in her heart at the realization that she would have to drive two-and-a-half more hours to be completely alone again. But she forced herself to make a quick recovery. "That's perfectly fine, I understand. In fact, that's a good idea. Go home, get some rest, and--"

"Will you come with me?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, Jan. I just... I don't want to be... I mean, I can't be--"

"Alone?" she finished for him, understanding completely where he was coming from. For a fleeting moment, they weren't so ridiculously opposite. In fact, today they were almost frighteningly similar. "I know."

"So you'll come with me?" he asked, hopefully, a boyish glint in his eyes taking away some of that puppy-like vulnerability.

Jan was powerless to do anything but say yes.

They took Michael's car after Jan had parked hers in a different office park -- she didn't want rumors flying yet again about the status of their relationship. Once at his condo, Michael guided her inside with a hand on the small of her back, supporting her, as he asked, "Are you hungry? I could order us some dinner."

"Um..." Her brain told her not to get too comfortable. This was how trouble started the last time, after all. Her heart, however? Her heart was yearning for the chance to spend time with someone -- with Michael -- so she nodded and said, "Sure."

The smile on his face broke her heart. "Great! I'll get the takeout menus."

Twenty minutes later, Jan found herself sitting beside Michael on his couch while they continually swapped cartons of Chinese takeout. She never would have told him this, but this was often her favorite thing to eat after a long day at work. She was so used to going home to her monochrome penthouse and rushing straight for the Chinese takeout menu.

Michael stole a steamed snow pea from the carton she was holding and brought it to his lips with his chopsticks. "Seriously Jan, there's nothing better than coming home from a long day at work and just ordering some good 'ole Chinese takeout."

Jan's stomach flopped yet again. What was with the similarities today? Or had they always been this alike and she'd just never noticed it until now? She twitched a nervous smile. "Right."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Michael," she responded automatically, her eyes refusing to meet his even though she could feel him watching her every move. "I should be asking how you're doing."

He sighed, and handed over his carton of chicken fried rice before she even requested it, swapping it with her snow peas. "I'm fine too. I guess."

"You don't sound fine." She grabbed another snow pea before he took it completely away, and was frozen for a moment by his amused smile. "What?"

He seemed to catch himself admiring her and looked away, his smile now bashful in nature, and... Jan hated to admit it, but it was also somewhat adorable. "Nothing. I'm sorry. You're just..."

Jan furrowed her brow. "Just what?"

"You're just..." He kept shaking his head, leaning just a little closer with every shake until Jan realized their lips were unbearably close to touching.

Michael closed the distance and their lips touched -- tentatively, at first, until he applied just a bit more pressure. Jan was assailed with memories of a parking lot outside of Chili's, and an elevator on Valentine's Day. The softness of his lips and the way he tasted -- something she could only describe as 'just Michael' -- was something that would be engrained in her mind forever.

But then memories of being practically ignored on Casino Night, and Michael's vulnerability -- the entire reason that they were here right now -- came at her in a split-second and she jumped away as if burnt. Their lips broke with an audible 'smooch.' With eyes still closed, she laid her hands on his chest to keep him away. "Michael."

His heart thudded rapidly beneath her right palm, and she opened her eyes to see him hanging his head in shame. "I'm sorry."

Jan opened and closed her mouth, not sure how to respond to his apology -- she wasn't all that certain the kiss had been an unwelcome one, anyway -- and tried a different tactic. "Talk to me about what happened today." She wished her lips weren't still tingling, aching for another kiss. Why did only he have the ability to do that to her?

"Okay," he agreed, still looking at her with eyes a bit clouded. "We'll talk."

TBC