For the First Time [The Office; Michael/Jan]
TITLE: For the First Time
FANDOM: The Office
PAIRING: Michael/Jan
SPOILERS: "The Client" (2x07)
RATING: PG
SUMMARY:
*****
You kissed her and she cried. For the first time, you aren't the ladies man you regularly are. Now you're... you're one of those guys that makes women cry. You have no idea what the hell is going on. Everything was great to start out. Everything was nice and hazy after those margaritas, you were feeling like a stud after closing that giant sale (that SHE never thought you could close), so you kissed her. And she kissed back. Man, did she EVER kiss back.
And then she made you drive to a hotel and get a room and you totally thought you were going to get lucky for like... five minutes, maybe. You kissed her all the way up to the room and kissed her right onto the bed. You kissed her so hard all of her shirt buttons magically came undone. Or... maybe she unbuttoned it, who cares? It didn't matter, you could see her bra. And it was awesome.
You told her it was awesome and she broke away from all the kisses to giggle, and it was the most gorgeous sound. But then... then your eyes met hers. She stopped laughing. And then... all of a sudden things got really NOT awesome and she started to cry.
Now her shirt's buttoned again and she's weeping... sobbing, really... on your chest with one hand over her eyes like she's trying to hide the fact that your shirt's getting wet from her tears and her mascara's running down her cheeks. She can't hide that from anyone, but especially not from you. It's weird to think it, but she's NEVER been able to hide anything from you. One look at her and you know exactly what she's thinking and it's great because it really pisses her off when you do that.
"Hey, hey..." You gently pull her off of your chest and take her hand away from her eyes.
She looks up at you with giant, wet, blue eyes. Her nose is red and her face is just a little bit puffy from crying. She looks so damned adorably ugly that you, for the first time, want to say "I love you" to someone. It's the weirdest thing, like when you hit your knee in a certain spot and your leg kicks up. It hits you like a reflex, but you wisely (for once) say nothing. You wipe away her tears with your thumbs and ask her what's wrong.
You hear something come out of her mouth like a really high-pitched whine... kinda like it's a whistle only dogs can hear... and then she starts weeping again and babbling. After a good minute or so of just staring at her, trying to concentrate on a sound, a word, ANYTHING that sounds like the English language, you hear the word, "Everything."
Everything's wrong? For Jan Levinson-Gould? Wait... no Gould. How could everything be wrong for her? Sure, she's short a husband, but you always thought she had everything else pretty together. You look down and she's crying on your chest again, clutching your shirt like she'll fall into a giant hole in the Earth if she lets go, and... for the first time you realize that whole 'Ice Queen', corporate balls-of-steel persona she shows you at the office might be one great big cover for the mess underneath.
You normally have no idea what to do when women cry. You never knew how to handle your mom when she was crying about something stupid Jeff did, or... when she stopped taking her "happiness" medicine and then would randomly cry watching Band-Aid commercials. When that happened, you normally hid in your room. But you can't hide now. There's no extra room for you to hide in, except the bathroom. And even as you look longingly at it, you realize it's so far away, and... Jan's lying on top of you anyway so you can't really go anywhere even if you wanted to.
Now she's asking you what's wrong with her. Wow, that Gould must've been a real prize. He really did a number on her from what it looks like. And you can't understand why. Why would a guy who got to be married to a woman that hot damage her like that? Sure she's got legs that could give good 'ole Barbie a run for her money and eyes that you could pretty much collapse into and lips that you could marry, but... there was more to her than that. There had to be. In all your fantasies about Jan there's much more to her than just a hot body... even though the hot body plays a very important role in those fantasies.
"Nothing's wrong with you," you tell her, even though you're not completely sure of that.
"Oh how do you know?" she shoots back tearfully, angrily, and shoves you away to sit up like it's YOUR fault she got divorced. "You barely know me, Michael!"
That's true, but you can see that she doesn't have two heads, and she doesn't seem like she has split personalities, although judging by all the shifts in her demeanor tonight....
"Are you going to say anything?" she demands, standing now with her hands on her hips. Those hips...
"You're right, I barely know you," you tell her, keeping your voice quiet because the look in her eyes says she just might kill you if you try to argue with her. You get up from the bed and go to her... dare to put your hand on her hip. She allows the touch but shoots you a scathing look. Maybe she will kill you. Too bad the room's on the fifth floor, you can't jump off the balcony to safety. "I barely know you and yet I see you enough to know that you're amazing."
Her combative stance falters... her hand leaves the hip that's not occupied by your own hand, and she seems a little unsteady on her feet for a second. You steal the opportunity to lean in for a kiss. She might call you an opportunistic bastard for doing it, but you haven't kissed her for minutes and you've just realized how much you miss it. Apparently she does, too. Pretty soon you two are back on the bed, horizontal once again, kissing like teenagers. And it's nice. And you think for a fleeting moment once again that you might get lucky... until you open your eyes and see the tears streaming down her face once again.
This time it's you who pulls back and instead of asking again what's wrong, you silently wipe away her tears and lay your head on the pillow. She follows suit, clutching your shirt in her hand like she needs to touch some part of you. She sniffles, stares at you with those big, sad blue eyes of hers and you realize for the first time that Jan Levinson might just be the most beautiful woman on the planet. You should tell her. You should tell her exactly that.
"You're so beautiful, Jan." Close enough.
She sniffles and makes a sound at the back of her throat and you wonder for just a second if it's a laugh. Then she wipes her nose and averts her eyes and says quietly, "Now you're just mocking me, Michael."
"You have no idea, do you?" you hear yourself saying. You're pretty sure you're about to say something either monumentally brilliant, or... really, really dumb and she'll kick your ass for it when she's sober. You're not positive which one it'll be, though, so you just keep right on talking. "You have no idea how many heads you turn when you walk into a room. You have no idea how many guys say that you're really hot behind your back."
She rolls those gorgeous eyes. "Gee, what an honor."
You realize that came out completely wrong. "That didn't come out right," you tell her as you shake your head, and you feel her eyes on you as you stare at the pattern of the comforter between the two of you, searching it like the right words are magically going to pop up from the ugly-ass floral design. "You just... you have no idea what the rest of us see, when we look at you, Jan."
"Sure, I do," she sighs. "A corporate bitch."
"No, that's only when you're being a bitch," you clarify. And surprisingly, she doesn't glare at you. She just stares, waiting for you to go on.
So you do. You go on and tell her exactly what you see in her, exactly how you perceive her, and you try to touch on every possible facet but it gets hard to concentrate with her blue eyes so firmly centered on you. Right now you're pretty much the nexus of Jan's universe and nobody's ever looked at you like that. It's really, really cool. And a little bit creepy.
Once you pretty much hit every point you're trying to make, she leans in and kisses you again, and you watch her close her eyes. Those long lashes of hers just barely touch your cheek in a butterfly kiss, and you are more positive than ever that Jan's the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth. Well, either her or Angelina Jolie. If there was ever a chance you could have both of them at the same time, that would really be--
"Michael..."
She totally interrupts your threesome fantasy with Angelina Jolie, but that's okay. "Yeah?"
She smiles, just slightly, and it's almost as pretty as the one she gave you in Chili's. "Thank you."
You make a face at her, as if she's nuts. Which she might be. A little bit. Jury's still out on that one. "Why are you thanking me? It's just the truth, Jan."
She chortles and lets you pull her close. She even lays her head on your shoulder. You close both arms around her and clasp your hands together, locking her against you. No way anyone's going to pry her away from you now. For now you've got her and you're not letting go. "Wanna talk about it?" you ask.
She does. And so you do. And after five hours you're still talking... but not about her divorce anymore. No, that conversation ended four-and-a-half hours ago. You guys talked about anything and everything. Right now you're telling her a story about when you brought a frog home to show your mom. And it's a really hilarious story, and you kinda wonder why she's not laughing. So you look down.
And she's asleep on your shoulder, those lovely lashes of hers fluttering with sleep. Your breath catches in your throat, and for the first time you're rendered speechless. You thought she was beautiful before...
You give her a kiss on her forehead and whisper to her, "Sweet dreams, Jan." Then you wrap your arms around her and rest your head on hers, cuddling her close.
As sure as you are that she's the most beautiful woman on earth, you're also just as sure that Gould's the biggest dumbass on earth for letting her go.
And when she shifts in sleep, cuddles a little closer and murmurs your name, you know you'll fall asleep with a smile on your face. And as you close your eyes, for the first time you think maybe you'll be the hero that gets the girl.
FIN
{x-posted to michaelandjan}
FANDOM: The Office
PAIRING: Michael/Jan
SPOILERS: "The Client" (2x07)
RATING: PG
SUMMARY:
*****
You kissed her and she cried. For the first time, you aren't the ladies man you regularly are. Now you're... you're one of those guys that makes women cry. You have no idea what the hell is going on. Everything was great to start out. Everything was nice and hazy after those margaritas, you were feeling like a stud after closing that giant sale (that SHE never thought you could close), so you kissed her. And she kissed back. Man, did she EVER kiss back.
And then she made you drive to a hotel and get a room and you totally thought you were going to get lucky for like... five minutes, maybe. You kissed her all the way up to the room and kissed her right onto the bed. You kissed her so hard all of her shirt buttons magically came undone. Or... maybe she unbuttoned it, who cares? It didn't matter, you could see her bra. And it was awesome.
You told her it was awesome and she broke away from all the kisses to giggle, and it was the most gorgeous sound. But then... then your eyes met hers. She stopped laughing. And then... all of a sudden things got really NOT awesome and she started to cry.
Now her shirt's buttoned again and she's weeping... sobbing, really... on your chest with one hand over her eyes like she's trying to hide the fact that your shirt's getting wet from her tears and her mascara's running down her cheeks. She can't hide that from anyone, but especially not from you. It's weird to think it, but she's NEVER been able to hide anything from you. One look at her and you know exactly what she's thinking and it's great because it really pisses her off when you do that.
"Hey, hey..." You gently pull her off of your chest and take her hand away from her eyes.
She looks up at you with giant, wet, blue eyes. Her nose is red and her face is just a little bit puffy from crying. She looks so damned adorably ugly that you, for the first time, want to say "I love you" to someone. It's the weirdest thing, like when you hit your knee in a certain spot and your leg kicks up. It hits you like a reflex, but you wisely (for once) say nothing. You wipe away her tears with your thumbs and ask her what's wrong.
You hear something come out of her mouth like a really high-pitched whine... kinda like it's a whistle only dogs can hear... and then she starts weeping again and babbling. After a good minute or so of just staring at her, trying to concentrate on a sound, a word, ANYTHING that sounds like the English language, you hear the word, "Everything."
Everything's wrong? For Jan Levinson-Gould? Wait... no Gould. How could everything be wrong for her? Sure, she's short a husband, but you always thought she had everything else pretty together. You look down and she's crying on your chest again, clutching your shirt like she'll fall into a giant hole in the Earth if she lets go, and... for the first time you realize that whole 'Ice Queen', corporate balls-of-steel persona she shows you at the office might be one great big cover for the mess underneath.
You normally have no idea what to do when women cry. You never knew how to handle your mom when she was crying about something stupid Jeff did, or... when she stopped taking her "happiness" medicine and then would randomly cry watching Band-Aid commercials. When that happened, you normally hid in your room. But you can't hide now. There's no extra room for you to hide in, except the bathroom. And even as you look longingly at it, you realize it's so far away, and... Jan's lying on top of you anyway so you can't really go anywhere even if you wanted to.
Now she's asking you what's wrong with her. Wow, that Gould must've been a real prize. He really did a number on her from what it looks like. And you can't understand why. Why would a guy who got to be married to a woman that hot damage her like that? Sure she's got legs that could give good 'ole Barbie a run for her money and eyes that you could pretty much collapse into and lips that you could marry, but... there was more to her than that. There had to be. In all your fantasies about Jan there's much more to her than just a hot body... even though the hot body plays a very important role in those fantasies.
"Nothing's wrong with you," you tell her, even though you're not completely sure of that.
"Oh how do you know?" she shoots back tearfully, angrily, and shoves you away to sit up like it's YOUR fault she got divorced. "You barely know me, Michael!"
That's true, but you can see that she doesn't have two heads, and she doesn't seem like she has split personalities, although judging by all the shifts in her demeanor tonight....
"Are you going to say anything?" she demands, standing now with her hands on her hips. Those hips...
"You're right, I barely know you," you tell her, keeping your voice quiet because the look in her eyes says she just might kill you if you try to argue with her. You get up from the bed and go to her... dare to put your hand on her hip. She allows the touch but shoots you a scathing look. Maybe she will kill you. Too bad the room's on the fifth floor, you can't jump off the balcony to safety. "I barely know you and yet I see you enough to know that you're amazing."
Her combative stance falters... her hand leaves the hip that's not occupied by your own hand, and she seems a little unsteady on her feet for a second. You steal the opportunity to lean in for a kiss. She might call you an opportunistic bastard for doing it, but you haven't kissed her for minutes and you've just realized how much you miss it. Apparently she does, too. Pretty soon you two are back on the bed, horizontal once again, kissing like teenagers. And it's nice. And you think for a fleeting moment once again that you might get lucky... until you open your eyes and see the tears streaming down her face once again.
This time it's you who pulls back and instead of asking again what's wrong, you silently wipe away her tears and lay your head on the pillow. She follows suit, clutching your shirt in her hand like she needs to touch some part of you. She sniffles, stares at you with those big, sad blue eyes of hers and you realize for the first time that Jan Levinson might just be the most beautiful woman on the planet. You should tell her. You should tell her exactly that.
"You're so beautiful, Jan." Close enough.
She sniffles and makes a sound at the back of her throat and you wonder for just a second if it's a laugh. Then she wipes her nose and averts her eyes and says quietly, "Now you're just mocking me, Michael."
"You have no idea, do you?" you hear yourself saying. You're pretty sure you're about to say something either monumentally brilliant, or... really, really dumb and she'll kick your ass for it when she's sober. You're not positive which one it'll be, though, so you just keep right on talking. "You have no idea how many heads you turn when you walk into a room. You have no idea how many guys say that you're really hot behind your back."
She rolls those gorgeous eyes. "Gee, what an honor."
You realize that came out completely wrong. "That didn't come out right," you tell her as you shake your head, and you feel her eyes on you as you stare at the pattern of the comforter between the two of you, searching it like the right words are magically going to pop up from the ugly-ass floral design. "You just... you have no idea what the rest of us see, when we look at you, Jan."
"Sure, I do," she sighs. "A corporate bitch."
"No, that's only when you're being a bitch," you clarify. And surprisingly, she doesn't glare at you. She just stares, waiting for you to go on.
So you do. You go on and tell her exactly what you see in her, exactly how you perceive her, and you try to touch on every possible facet but it gets hard to concentrate with her blue eyes so firmly centered on you. Right now you're pretty much the nexus of Jan's universe and nobody's ever looked at you like that. It's really, really cool. And a little bit creepy.
Once you pretty much hit every point you're trying to make, she leans in and kisses you again, and you watch her close her eyes. Those long lashes of hers just barely touch your cheek in a butterfly kiss, and you are more positive than ever that Jan's the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth. Well, either her or Angelina Jolie. If there was ever a chance you could have both of them at the same time, that would really be--
"Michael..."
She totally interrupts your threesome fantasy with Angelina Jolie, but that's okay. "Yeah?"
She smiles, just slightly, and it's almost as pretty as the one she gave you in Chili's. "Thank you."
You make a face at her, as if she's nuts. Which she might be. A little bit. Jury's still out on that one. "Why are you thanking me? It's just the truth, Jan."
She chortles and lets you pull her close. She even lays her head on your shoulder. You close both arms around her and clasp your hands together, locking her against you. No way anyone's going to pry her away from you now. For now you've got her and you're not letting go. "Wanna talk about it?" you ask.
She does. And so you do. And after five hours you're still talking... but not about her divorce anymore. No, that conversation ended four-and-a-half hours ago. You guys talked about anything and everything. Right now you're telling her a story about when you brought a frog home to show your mom. And it's a really hilarious story, and you kinda wonder why she's not laughing. So you look down.
And she's asleep on your shoulder, those lovely lashes of hers fluttering with sleep. Your breath catches in your throat, and for the first time you're rendered speechless. You thought she was beautiful before...
You give her a kiss on her forehead and whisper to her, "Sweet dreams, Jan." Then you wrap your arms around her and rest your head on hers, cuddling her close.
As sure as you are that she's the most beautiful woman on earth, you're also just as sure that Gould's the biggest dumbass on earth for letting her go.
And when she shifts in sleep, cuddles a little closer and murmurs your name, you know you'll fall asleep with a smile on your face. And as you close your eyes, for the first time you think maybe you'll be the hero that gets the girl.
FIN
{x-posted to michaelandjan}