"Working Overtime"

Summary: Willard is relatively new in the office. Wanting to impress Mr. Martin, Willard plans on staying late. So does the new secretary... Disclaimer: I don't own Willard, sadly. I'll go cry now.

The gleaming, white lights hummed overhead. Several of them died at the flicking of a switch, and Willard was left with the dim light of his desk lamp, a stack of papers, and a grimace. Mr. Martin looked over his shoulder as he exited the office.

"Don't work too hard, Tiger."

Willard didn't look up, but instead busied himself with the stack of carbon papers. He sorted through the purchase orders, arranging them by date. Only half aware of the other person in the room, he didn't notice that he was being watched. As Willard reached for a pen, his eyes caught those of the new secretary, Ms. Leach. She was seated next to Mr. Martin's office, her feet lazily propped up on the desk. Her short skirt skimmed high on her thigh...Willard's gaze flicked away quickly. Taking the opportunity, Ms. Leach casually got up from her seat and meandered toward the seemingly busy Willard.

"He said not to work too hard," she said flirtatiously. When he did not respond she offered, "My name's Barbara, by the way."

He nodded, but did not meet her eyes. Willard forced himself to return the greeting.

"It's nice to meet you, Barbara. M-my name's...Willard," he managed, almost breathless.

The simple conversation was pain-staking. In reality, Willard did not want to speak to this woman, and would have preferred to get his work done. From the moment he'd lain eyes on her, he knew she wasn't the type of woman he should speak with; clothing a bit too tight, hair a bit too colored, eyes a bit too red...Not at all the type of woman he should speak with.

"Willard. That's a weird name. Do people call you Will?" Her grainy voice made his teeth grind.

"No." His answer was simple, and he hoped that she would take the hint and leave him alone. That, to his dismay, didn't happen.

"Well, Willard, you look like you're working a little too hard to me. How would you like to get out of here?" Her question was blunt, and yet Willard wasn't sure how to respond. He had little to no contact with women, and certainly none had made themselves so...available. But the thought both appalled and nauseated him. "I'm sure you could take some of that energy and put it to other uses..." She pouted, trying unmercifully to catch Willard's attention.

He shuddered, upper lip curling in utter distaste. Barbara was not too dull to catch this statement, and shook her head, disgusted that she had even tried with the pale, homely little man. Willard was relieved as she turned and left, enraptured when she put on her coat, and overjoyed when she departed altogether. The sickening weight that had been pressing him since she had begun talking lifted, and, with a contented sigh, he resumed his work.