Fic: Being Such a Wall-Plower
Title: Being Such a Wall-Plower
Rating: totally PG
Word Count: 730
Summary: a little post-"Cafe Disco" scene written for a flashfic challenge.
Café Disco was winding down. Michael had decided to play "How Deep Is Your Love" in honor of Jim and Pam; now they and a few other couples - Bob and Phyllis, Kevin and…Lynn? and an unfamiliar pair from Cress Tool and Die - were in slow-dance heaven. Over by the espresso machine, Kelly and Erin stood with their arms around each others' waists, their heads together, watching the dancers and swaying a little. But most of the others started drifting back upstairs, presumably to take care of whatever little tasks needed to be done in whatever remained of the day. At least, that's what Oscar intended to do.
Then he saw Andy, sitting in one of the chairs that had been pushed to the side of the room, legs outstretched and ankles crossed, head tipped back to rest against the wall, apparently coming down from his endorphin high. By his brooding expression, possibly coming down hard. On an impulse that was possibly wicked, and certainly not wise, Oscar detoured and sat down beside him.
"Hey," he said, as Andy looked up and then automatically inclined toward him, in response to his conspiratorial tone. Oscar leaned right in to speak in his ear, a little scandalized at himself for what he was about to say.
"Angela? Was absolutely eating her heart out…" was all he managed to get out before Andy made a startled, amused "hrmp!" sound and his hand flew up to thump Oscar's chest. That overenthusiastic thwack was hard enough to hurt a little, hard enough to wind him a little; but it was also oddly exhilarating, and he heard the swell of energy in his own hushed voice as he caught Andy by the shoulder and surged on,
"I will take that look on her face to my grave with me. To my grave." Under his hand, Andy squirmed with stifled laughter, and Oscar drew back to look at him. "And I thank you for it," he concluded, smiling.
Then he heard an exuberant "Uh Oh! Uh Oh!" and cringed inwardly, knowing that Michael was descending upon them. They both looked up.
"What's the giggling about?" Michael demanded, smiling broadly and glowing with triumph at what was, for him, a supremely successful day. "Oscar, if you want to dance with Andy, just ask him!" he scolded, enjoying himself immensely. "Stop…being such a wall-plower!"
Not wanting to be some sort of dance-party Scrooge, Oscar swallowed his annoyance and said teasingly,
"Michael, if you want to dance with Andy, you ask him. Stop trying to live through me." Beside him Andy folded his arms and listed sideways in his chair, regarding Michael with hilarious narrow-eyed anticipation.
"Do it, Michael!" Kelly called. But Michael, his grin huge and fixed, torn between embarrassment and rapture that Oscar was responding to his playfulness in kind, was backing away, saying,
"No, no, no! No. Well, maybe, but not to a slow song."
Andy finger-gunned him and he returned fire, actually saying, "Pow!" before moving on to harass Jim and Pam. Oscar sighed and then laughed, silently, shaking his head a little, though at whom he was not prepared to say. Andy slumped forward, the vitality that had briefly reanimated him evaporating again. Elbow on knee, cheek on hand, he eyed the floor and began crooning to it:
…living in a world of fools
Breaking us down
When they. All. Should. Lettucebee.
Abruptly he broke off and sat up.
"Did you want to dance?" he asked, as though it had just occurred to him that Oscar might be feeling left out.
"No!" Oscar said, astonished, imagining it for just a second, knowing exactly where his head would line up with Andy's shoulder. He added, "I mean, it would be nice. But I'm too self-conscious. So, no. Thank you, though."
"Let's group dance! Like at prom!" Now Kelly was headed their way with Erin in her wake; this time he was almost glad for the interruption.
"I think that's my cue to get back to work," he said. "It's been fun."
"See you, dude," Andy said as they stood up. "Michael!"
"Group-dance-like-at-prom!" Kelly chanted.
As he headed for the door, Oscar heard Michael saying, "What? What are we doing?" and then, "Ohh!" as, presumably, Kelly and Erin slid their free arms around him.
Demente, he thought. And this time, he was pretty sure he meant himself.
Rating: totally PG
Word Count: 730
Summary: a little post-"Cafe Disco" scene written for a flashfic challenge.
Café Disco was winding down. Michael had decided to play "How Deep Is Your Love" in honor of Jim and Pam; now they and a few other couples - Bob and Phyllis, Kevin and…Lynn? and an unfamiliar pair from Cress Tool and Die - were in slow-dance heaven. Over by the espresso machine, Kelly and Erin stood with their arms around each others' waists, their heads together, watching the dancers and swaying a little. But most of the others started drifting back upstairs, presumably to take care of whatever little tasks needed to be done in whatever remained of the day. At least, that's what Oscar intended to do.
Then he saw Andy, sitting in one of the chairs that had been pushed to the side of the room, legs outstretched and ankles crossed, head tipped back to rest against the wall, apparently coming down from his endorphin high. By his brooding expression, possibly coming down hard. On an impulse that was possibly wicked, and certainly not wise, Oscar detoured and sat down beside him.
"Hey," he said, as Andy looked up and then automatically inclined toward him, in response to his conspiratorial tone. Oscar leaned right in to speak in his ear, a little scandalized at himself for what he was about to say.
"Angela? Was absolutely eating her heart out…" was all he managed to get out before Andy made a startled, amused "hrmp!" sound and his hand flew up to thump Oscar's chest. That overenthusiastic thwack was hard enough to hurt a little, hard enough to wind him a little; but it was also oddly exhilarating, and he heard the swell of energy in his own hushed voice as he caught Andy by the shoulder and surged on,
"I will take that look on her face to my grave with me. To my grave." Under his hand, Andy squirmed with stifled laughter, and Oscar drew back to look at him. "And I thank you for it," he concluded, smiling.
Then he heard an exuberant "Uh Oh! Uh Oh!" and cringed inwardly, knowing that Michael was descending upon them. They both looked up.
"What's the giggling about?" Michael demanded, smiling broadly and glowing with triumph at what was, for him, a supremely successful day. "Oscar, if you want to dance with Andy, just ask him!" he scolded, enjoying himself immensely. "Stop…being such a wall-plower!"
Not wanting to be some sort of dance-party Scrooge, Oscar swallowed his annoyance and said teasingly,
"Michael, if you want to dance with Andy, you ask him. Stop trying to live through me." Beside him Andy folded his arms and listed sideways in his chair, regarding Michael with hilarious narrow-eyed anticipation.
"Do it, Michael!" Kelly called. But Michael, his grin huge and fixed, torn between embarrassment and rapture that Oscar was responding to his playfulness in kind, was backing away, saying,
"No, no, no! No. Well, maybe, but not to a slow song."
Andy finger-gunned him and he returned fire, actually saying, "Pow!" before moving on to harass Jim and Pam. Oscar sighed and then laughed, silently, shaking his head a little, though at whom he was not prepared to say. Andy slumped forward, the vitality that had briefly reanimated him evaporating again. Elbow on knee, cheek on hand, he eyed the floor and began crooning to it:
…living in a world of fools
Breaking us down
When they. All. Should. Lettucebee.
Abruptly he broke off and sat up.
"Did you want to dance?" he asked, as though it had just occurred to him that Oscar might be feeling left out.
"No!" Oscar said, astonished, imagining it for just a second, knowing exactly where his head would line up with Andy's shoulder. He added, "I mean, it would be nice. But I'm too self-conscious. So, no. Thank you, though."
"Let's group dance! Like at prom!" Now Kelly was headed their way with Erin in her wake; this time he was almost glad for the interruption.
"I think that's my cue to get back to work," he said. "It's been fun."
"See you, dude," Andy said as they stood up. "Michael!"
"Group-dance-like-at-prom!" Kelly chanted.
As he headed for the door, Oscar heard Michael saying, "What? What are we doing?" and then, "Ohh!" as, presumably, Kelly and Erin slid their free arms around him.
Demente, he thought. And this time, he was pretty sure he meant himself.