TITLE: Grief To Grace
CHAPTER 6
One more night turned into two. It was the weekend, after all. That was the excuse Jan gave, anyway. It was the weekend, and what else did she have to do? Plus, Michael had been so happy. Who was she to ruin that? Obnoxious as he could be at times, the man deserved some happiness in his life. And, if him being happy made her happy, well... that was just icing on the cake.
"Find some good stuff?" Michael asked her as she came through the door of his townhouse. He immediately jogged to meet her and took a few of the shopping bags out of her hands.
Jan smiled and tossed her bangs out of her eyes. "Yes. I did. And I picked up something for you, too."
"Really?" His eyebrows quirked as his lips tilted upward slightly, and Jan was certain he was one of the most handsome men she'd ever met. "What is it?"
She held up a bag from J. Crew. "A nice black shirt for Ed's funeral. It's on Tuesday."
"It is?"
"Yes. Sherry sent an e-mail to my blackberry Friday afternoon with all the details. His wake is on Monday night, and the funeral is Tuesday morning."
"Oh."
Jan looked up when she heard his tone. Everything he'd been worrying about on Thursday had come back to him. "Michael..."
"Will you be there?" he asked, almost sadly hopeful... like a lost little boy.
She nodded without hesitation. "Of course. I mean, I don't think I'll be attending the wake, but I'll be there for the funeral."
"Okay."
Jan set her shopping bags down in the entryway and went to him, taking the others from his hands and setting them aside. "Michael?" She placed her hands on his shoulders.
"Hmm?" He didn't meet her eyes but rather stared at a spot on the floor... though his hands instinctively went to her hips.
She ducked her head to try to recapture his gaze, then - when that didn't work - she laid both palms across his face and drew him toward her for a lingering kiss. "Michael," she tried again, against his lips.
"Hmm." He kissed her back with passion, holding her tight as if she'd run when he let go.
Jan pulled back gently and smiled when, this time, she was met with the deep green of his eyes. "Will you be okay?"
Michael nodded, a bit too emphatically for Jan to really believe him, and cut his eyes to the side. They looked a little misty. "Yeah, I think so."
"You're not alone," she reminded him.
"No," he agreed. "Not right now, anyway. But..."
She furrowed her brow. "But what?"
"But when you leave, Jan..."
"You know that's an inevitability, Michael. I live in New York. I can't just abandon my obligations there to just stay here all the time."
That did it. That brought the hurt to his eyes full-force, and his gaze went to the floor as he took a step back from her. "You're right."
Jan suddenly felt cold without his hands on her hips. She hadn't meant for her words to hurt him. "Michael..." She took a step forward.
He just shook his head, that hurt puppy-dog look plastered across his features breaking Jan's heart. "No, it's okay. You're completely right. You have your own life, in New York, that I'm no part of. And... you've probably been trapped here way too long. You said a few days ago that you'd stay one more night. And you did. I should let you get home now, Jan."
"But..." She hadn't been prepared for how desperate to stay she really was. He looked so broken, and... if she was being honest with herself, she really kind of liked it here with him.
Michael still didn't meet her eyes as he asked, "Do you need help with your things?"
Jan swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back the tears he seemed to be producing like magic, and shook her head. "No," she responded quietly. "I don't have that much, I should be able to get it all."
"Okay." He shuffled off into the kitchen sadly and left Jan to gather her things.
When she was through, she stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and just watched him for a moment, making dinner... dinner for one. What was it about being here that made her want to stay so badly? Was she just feeling bad that he was lonely? And vulnerable because of Ed's death? "Michael..."
"Bye, Jan," he called distantly, not looking up from the stove. "Thanks for staying."
Why did she want to run over, wrap her arms around him, and never let go? "You're... welcome. Thanks for having me."
"Mm-hmm."
Jan had never felt so much like a jilted lover in her entire life. And it was all her doing. "Bye, Michael," she murmured, barely audible, and headed for her car. Once inside, she started the engine, pulled out of his driveway, and jumped on the interstate.
That was when the tears began to fall.
One night back in her own home -- her stylish monochrome penthouse overlooking the park -- made Jan realize just how much she really wanted to stay with Michael. The colors here weren't warm or welcoming. They were stoic, neutral... unfeeling. Michael's townhouse had splashes of warmth here and there -- the one bedroom that was painted a light green, the other a light blue. The warm, rich brown tones in the bathroom... Michael's townhouse was a home. A home Jan could see herself in full-time.
On Monday, Jan spent half of her work day eyeing the clock, wondering what Michael was doing... and the other half berating herself for becoming so dependent on being near him. She'd spent a total of three nights with him and missed him terribly as if they'd been dating for years. She had no idea what was wrong with her. Not to mention she was still imagining the picture he'd painted three nights ago -- the yellow school bus, and the little boy that looked like Michael and the girl that looked like her. The kids playing in the leaves, taking turns on the tire swing... she ached to actually be a part of that picture. And with Michael.
By the time Tuesday rolled around, Jan had done enough back-and-forth analyzing of and agonizing over her situation with Michael to last her a lifetime. On the way to the funeral, she forced herself to make a decision... and promptly got stuck in mid-morning traffic. She cursed every single car in front of her, remembering her promise to Michael that she'd be there. She'd already hurt him once by what she'd said; well, and she had to face it -- she'd hurt him with her words a lot more times than that. She didn't want to do it again.
By the time traffic eased up just outside of Scranton, Jan had only enough time to make it to the burial. She pulled out the map to the cemetery and contemplated a cigarette -- her nerves were doing a number on her just at the thought of seeing Michael again... especially not knowing how he'd treat her today. She managed to hold back reaching for her fail-safe vice, however. Who wanted to reek like cigarettes at a funeral, anyway?
After slowing to a stop just behind Michael's easily-recognizable Sebring, Jan placed a hand on her stomach, took a calming breath, and stepped out of the car. She shut the door as quietly as she could, noting that the burial service was already taking place. Her eyes scanned the crowd for Michael, and her heart nearly broke when she saw him -- all the way at the back, completely alone, his mouth downturned in a sad frown while he stood with his hands clasped in front of him.
How could she have ever looked at this man as an obnoxious buffoon? Lately, it just didn't make sense. He was warm, kind... affectionate, sensitive... and lonely. Just like her. So very lonely, with nobody to come home to and nobody to share a bed -- or even a meal -- with.
Jan slowly made her way toward him from behind, watching as he ducked his head and shifted his weight on his feet... placing one hand in his pocket while the other rested at his side. She watched that hand until she reached him, and slowly stretched her own hand out to take it.
To her surprise, he didn't jump or startle -- just squeezed her hand immediately, instinctively, without turning to look at her; as if he knew, without seeing, that it was her. When she stepped up beside him, that was when she felt his eyes on her -- those misty green eyes. "You came," he commented softly, awestruck.
Jan nodded, keeping her eyes straight ahead on the service still taking place, responding just as quietly, "Of course I did. I said I would..." She turned to look at him. "Didn't I?"
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. "Yeah. Yeah you did."
Both of them turned to watch the service, taking solace in the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. Jan looked down ever-so-briefly as their hands, in unison, changed positions and touched palm-to-palm, exchanging warmth and energy, before their fingers laced one-by-one. Or rather, two-by-two. She lifted her eyes to Michael's and noted that the mist, the faint glimmer of pent-up tears, was slowly fading. "You're not alone," she reminded him in a whisper.
He shook his head. "Neither are you."
She managed to twitch a rather tremulous smile. "No."
And it never even occurred to her to look for prying eyes, or other attendees from Dunder Mifflin. It didn't matter. She'd finally come to a place where she was willing to accept the simple fact that, as opposite as they were, she and Michael needed each other. They balanced each other. They wanted the same things. Forget corporate policies and the inevitable rumor mill. She and Michael really had something tangible, something worth enduring any possible consequence. Hell, what was between them already included a fully-painted future... tire swing and all.
When the service had ended and everyone started to disperse, Jan and Michael remained. They just stood side-by-side, hands intertwined, until they were the last ones left. Then, they turned to face each other, neither relinquishing their hold on the other's hand. Michael voiced the inevitable question. "Now what?"
Jan smiled just slightly. "We go home."
His eyebrows raised, "We?" and he started for the car, still hanging on to her hand.
She nodded. "Yes. Michael, look... what I said the other day-"
"Completely true, and don't worry about it, Jan. Really."
"No."
"Huh?" They stopped next to his car.
The look of pure confusion on his face was really heartbreakingly adorable. "It's not true, and I did worry about it."
"What are you talking about?"
"Michael, I do live in New York. But it's just a city."
"Some say it's the greatest city in the world," he commented.
"Sure. But it's a city nonetheless. There are millions of them all over the world. And places to live in every single one. It's not like I can't ever... move."
His knit-together brows still expressed confusion, though she watched a glimmer of understanding come to his eyes. "Okay..."
"And while it's true that I can't abandon my obligations, I can adjust them."
"What are you trying to say, Jan?"
She stared straight into his guileless eyes as she told him, "Michael, I missed you. Unbelievably so, and we've only been apart for a couple days. I missed you the moment I got on the interstate back to New York." She shook her head, never breaking gaze. "That doesn't just happen. Not to me."
He said nothing, just stared expectantly, patiently waiting for her to continue -- a true rarity for Michael.
"And I couldn't stop thinking about you. That doesn't happen to me, either. It made me realize that we have something, here. Something real. Something that I've never really had before."
Michael searched her eyes with his own, reaching up to tuck a piece of windblown hair behind her ear affectionately. "Are you sure we're not just... lonely, Jan?"
"Oh, we're lonely, Michael. But that doesn't have anything to do with it. You know that."
"I do. Yeah." He nodded, his eyes now busy tracing her face. Jan had never felt so adored in her life -- he was looking at her like she was the absolute center of his universe in that moment. "I just... wanted to know we're on the same page."
"We are. Even though this is completely crazy and I'm feeling just a little too attached after only being with you for a few days..."
"I know what you mean." He smiled at her and she felt herself falling just a little bit harder.
"And it's insane that after that short a period of time I can actually imagine myself in that little suburban fantasy of yours..."
"You can?" He sounded surprised.
She chuckled. "Yes. Crazy, right?"
He nodded, feigning seriousness. "Completely." Then, he smirked just a little. "But the hot ones are always crazy."
Jan laughed in spite of herself. "Michael..."
"Jan..." He mimicked her tone right back at her while he reached out to pull her close, locking his arms around her waist much like he did in the Chili's parking lot, ages ago.
Their foreheads met and Jan's eyes closed of their own accord, savoring the moment. "Can we please go home?" She laid her hands on his upper arms.
He kissed her gently... chastely, as if keeping in mind where they were. "And home would be...?"
"Wherever you are," she responded automatically, then pressed her lips together as her cheeks pinked in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. That was-"
"Unbelievably cheesy," Michael finished for her, pulling back to give her a grin. "Jeez, Jan. You been reading a lot of Danielle Steele or something? That sounded like something out of one of her books."
"And just how would you know what's in one of her books, Michael?" she questioned, leaning back to narrow her eyes at him.
Now it was he who was turning pink. "Just... um, nevermind." He cleared his throat a bit too loudly to be nonchalant and released his hold on her. "Shall we go?"
She eyed him suspiciously while they each headed for their own cars. "I'm going to find a secret stash of Danielle Steele novels at the back of your closet, aren't I?"
"Right, Jan." He made her accusation sound completely preposterous, and yet his eyes shifted. "What kind of man would read that tripe?" After a beat, he added, "Other than Toby, I mean."
Jan just rolled her eyes. "Okay."
"Hey."
His voice stopped her just as she unlocked her car and opened her door. She looked up to see him leaning against his car with his arms folded atop the roof. "What?"
"What's going to happen?"
She tilted her head slightly. "With what?"
"Everything. I mean... does this mean that..." He stammered. "Well, I-I don't want to make any assumptions here, but does this mean that you're... moving in?"
Jan smiled, damning her heart for giving a flutter at the very idea. Three days with him and she wanted to move in. It really had finally happened -- Michael Scott had driven her insane. "We'll... take things one step at a time, Michael."
"Okay, so a systematic moving-in?"
"Maybe."
"You wanna do a June wedding?"
"Michael..."
"That's okay, we can wait on the wedding. Just as long as you're still moving in." He grinned at her in that way that was so adorably Michael -- the irritating, yet devastatingly handsome grin. She never stood a chance.
"Just meet me at home, Michael."
"Will do. And... I really like the sound of that."
Jan couldn't help but smile back and admit, "Me too."
"Alright." Michael finally started to get into his own car, calling over his shoulder, "See ya at home, Jan."
"See you at home, Michael."
FIN
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