AN: Last chapter y'all, and I'm glad you liked the story so much. It's been a pleasure to write, and there will be more follwing it. A little note for this chapter. It was written directly after I had to write an assignment in present tense, so if there are any wrong tenses in here, please excuse me.
I also worked extra hard (that's what she said) to get this up (Again, what she said) because the next story won't be up until at the earliest Sunday. I am a starving University student, and along with the no food and present tense assignments come...MIDTERMS! I have two this week, but after that I'm free for awhile, so please bare with me. So now I ask you to enjoy the last chapter of the story (including Andy).
Oh and whoever told me I should write for the show. Thank you very much, you don't know what that means. I'm going through for screenwriting, so, you never know. Maybe if they get ahold of this story somehow. And for reference, Jim is the hardest character to write.

The Thunderstorm

Chapter 8


Sunlight streamed through the window as the camera panned over the unmoving bodies of the office staff. They lay sleeping on the couches, desks and on the tables in the conference room. Michael's office was still dark and the blinds still drawn. Creed's desk was empty.

"I made nearly four thousand dollars in one night selling rain water. That's more than I make a year here," Creed brought down a pair of sunglasses off his head, "I'm taking a vacation."

The camera pulled up slowly, over Angela who was sleeping in a fetal position on the couch before Michael's office. As it drew closer to the blinds, Michael's sleeping form could be seen strewn on his office couch. His one leg was thrown over the back, and his tie rested across his face.

Phyllis and Stanley had their heads on their respective desks. Stanley grumbled a little bit and smacked his lips together. Through the ajar door, Oscar and Kevin, who was wearing Michael's pirate hat, lay on the table in the conference room, on extreme opposite sides.

"I didn't mind sleeping in the same room as Oscar," Kevin nodded in agreement to an unasked question, "But I didn't want to wake up gay in the morning."


"I didn't mind sleeping in the same room with Kevin," Oscar divulged, "But his glandular problem is horrible."

Dwight was sleeping on the couch closest to the door, in only a dirty gray tank top and a ratty pair of blue boxers.

"I've been making my own boxers for years," Dwight's face was completely straight, "I have ever since I was a teen and I realized that 'Fruit of the Loom' was bias against beets."

As the camera continued, Kelly came into view, lying in front of reception. Her blanket was wrapped tightly around her body and she was using her sweater as a pillow.

Finally the camera moved up to view behind the reception desk, where Pam and Jim were lying comfortably, their shoulders propped up by the cabinet behind the desk. Her head lay on his chest, and the single blanket was spread over both of them.

The room was completely silent, except for the sound of light snoring—until the sound of footsteps became overbearing. They grew closer until the door to the office was thrown open, and Andy entered whistling obnoxiously, not hearing the door shut silently behind him.

He stopped walking, a look of suspicion on his face, and when he took in the office he screamed, "Oh my God! Everyone has been gassed!"

Andy moved around in a perfect circle, pivoting his feet as he examined the area, until he decided it was best to get out of there. Turning back to the door he let out a high shriek, which only rustled Angela a bit, "I'm going to die!"

Running back to the door, he pried on the handle, not realizing in his sheer terror that the door pushed open. His face grew red as he shook against the door, it didn't move an inch. "Oh my God!" his shout resonated in the open room and roused a few people, "I'm going to be gassed! My mother was right!"

"Andy," Angela spat as she sat up and immediately started to fix her clothing, "Stop yelling, it's rude."

"Oh my God!" Andy screamed louder as he jumped back a foot and pulled on his hair, "You're all freaking zombies! I knew this was going to happen." Breathing heavy for a few moments he recollected himself , then let out a little sigh, "I'm so glad I faked sick yesterday."

"Sometimes I just need a day to Drew, you know?" he questioned the camera, "I spent it on my couch catching up on my online poker and watching the cooking channel. In sixteen hours I learned how to cook two meals," he smiled broadly, "Oh and I lost six hundred bucks."

"We are not zombies," Stanley mumbled as he straightened his back and used the sleeve of his suit to wipe the drool away from his face.

"That, Sir," Andy pointed towards Stanley as Phyllis and the conference room guys started to wake, "is exactly what a zombie would say." He reversed more not noticing Dwight on the couch behind him.

"No," Kevin exited the conference room with a yawn, the hat sat sideways on his head, "Zombies would just say, 'Brains.'"

"Zombie Kevin has been crowned king of the zombies," Andy screamed and pointed toward him, "and he wants to eat my brains!"

Dwight stood up directly behind Andy, "Stop screaming, it's not masculine."

His surprise only caused Andy to scream higher. Noticing what Dwight was wearing he questioned, "Oh Dwight, what have the zombies done with you?"

"Andy," Jim grumbled moved forward and waking Pam from her sleep, "We had to stay the night because of the thunderstorm."

"Uh-huh," Pam agreed, sitting up but obviously half asleep.

"Normally I would've played into Andy's apparent fear of zombies," Jim explained, his appearance disheveled, "but I just want to get out of here."

"Pam," Andy cried as he slammed against the side of the reception desk, "They only gave you a partial lobotomy to save some of your hot brains for later." Jim let out a long yawn, as Pam barely responded. Andy leaned forward and poked Pam's bandage.

"Ow," Pam swatted his hand away.

Jim pulled her back, "Back off, man."

"Good, you can still feel pain," Andy's words were long and articulated.

"Oh my God," Kelly jumped to her feet, "You guys it stopped raining, we can go home now!"

Andy glanced at her sideways, "You mean back to hell?"

"Argh," Michael sided from the door to his office, he had a hand on each side of the frame supporting himself, "None of us are zombies, you idiot. Jim told the truth."

"Then you guys really stayed here all night?" Andy's voice was soft.

"The entire night," Oscar clarified.

Tears were in Andy's eyes as his lower lip trembled, "You had an office sleepover and didn't invite me? I mean that's harsh guys."

"Get over it," Michael grumbled, his face had the stitched pattern of his office couch as he leaned against reception.

The phone began to ring as Andy insisted on all the details of the prior night. Michael sent a look to Pam, "Oh," she shook her head, "Sorry." Picking up the phone she cleared her throat, "Dunder Mifflin this is Pam. Oh, hi Ryan. Yeah he's here, just a second." She handed the phone over to Michael, "It's Ryan."

"Hello Mr. Howard," Michael said into the phone, his voice and mannerisms as normal as ever, "Mr. Ron Howard, can you introduce me to the Grinch? Uh huh, uh huh, well now you don't have to introduce me, because you are him." He held the phone away from his ear and blew a raspberry, "It was entirely necessary to stay. Phone the police, Ryan. Phone and ask the Scranton police if it was necessary to stay at the office all night, then we'll see who looks like an idiot. Uh huh, okay—Pam," Michael handed the phone back to her, "Ryan wants to talk to you."

"Okay?" She looked confused but accepted the phone, "Hi Ryan," she looked up at Jim who was watching her intently, an expression of puzzlement on his face "Yeah, it was. There was a thunderstorm and the power got knocked out. Yeah. Okay, bye."

She hung up the phone and looked to Michael, "He said we could have today off as a paid holiday, but he wants you to be on top of this next time."

"See," Kelly shouted, "Ryan's still cool, he knew how much trauma last night put me through and let me have the day off."

"He let everyone have the day off," Phyllis answered.

"But he specifically meant me," Kelly added with a flashy smile.

"Alright you heard, everyone get your crap together and get out," Michael announced, "Except Andy, you have to stay here."

Everyone moved away from the desk with speed, ready to get out of the office, even if only for a day. Michael retreated into his office, and Andy sat at his desk obediently.

"Hey," Jim reached forward and caught Pam's forearm, "What was that?"

Her eyebrows creased, "What was what?"

He looked at her a moment and smile, "Nothing," he shook his head, "Do you want to get some breakfast?"

"I don't know, I haven't changed my clothes in twenty-four hours," she reminded, a smile playing on her lips.

"Well neither have I, and I had a suit."

"Alright," she agreed with a nod," Just let me get my stuff together."

"Jim," Michael beckoned from his office, "Can I speak with you for a minute?"

Without a word he gave a sad look at the camera and made his way into Michael's office.

"What does being a boss mean?" Michael leaned back in his chair, "It means a lot of things. It means I get to boss people around. Because it's in the job description," he let out a chuckle. "But it also means that I have to take into consideration how other people feel, and even if they were so wrong and mean to me, I might have to be the first one to offer the olive oil."

"Jim, I know you don't like me very much right now," Michael's voice was shaking as he clasped his hands over his desk.

Jim rolled his eyes, "Michael, I—"

"No, no, no," Michael interrupted him, holding up a hand, "I just want to apologize," he bit his lower lip while sliding over a blanket to Jim, and in an almost inaudible voice he sobbed, "I just hope you can forgive me."

Jim sighed and glanced over his shoulder. Pam stood at the window and sent him a wave. "Yes Michael I forgive you," Jim took the blanket and stood from the chair, "Last night wasn't so bad."

"Oh Jim," Michael moved around the table and embraced his coworker, "I'm so sorry that I used my powers to get Pam hurt."

"I have learned my lesson," Michael nodded, "I will only use my genie powers for good, like Will Smith in that movie, 'The Legend of Baggy Pants.'"

"It really wasn't such a bad night," Jim turned to Pam with a smile.

She held his blanket up and giggled, "Yeah you got Michael's old blanket."

"Of course there's that," Jim agreed now beaming broadly, "But this was also our first night together."

"It was," she shared his grin.

The office was empty as Andy sat at his desk. The phones at various people's desks rang off the hook, but Andy ignored them, by flipping his file folder over and making a mark. In the background a dull banging was heard, when Andy noticed it, he moved from his seat very lightly across the carpet trying to find where the sound was coming from.

As he walked through the doors to the kitchen, Toby was clearly seen, banging on the door to the annex wildly, "Toby," Andy shook his head and opened the door, "What are you—"

Toby shoved Andy aside in a single push, and ran through the kitchen, directly into the bathroom.

Next Story - My next story will aptly be called, "Receptionist Day" or something along that line. It will involve an Office take on Administrative Professionals' Day, Ryan coming to the office, and a lot of Jim and Pam (with a certain strain on their relationship). Look for it next week!

I hope you enjoyed the story, remember to review!