Author Notes: I thought I should finally finish writing this story. So I did. I feel productive. Weird.
Andy: I may start to be getting worried about how we haven't had sex as ourselves yet. I've been a beet farmer, a dairy farmer, Ted Haggard, a priest, John XXIII, either William Bradford or William Brewster, I can't remember which - but not John Carver - the king of the cat people, the villiage idiot of the cat people, and Harry Connick Junior. (sigh) I just want to be me. Obviously some people want something different than me. Like coach Davis in high school. And Mrs. Babcock in third grade...
Angela: Is it so strange that I like Harry Connick Junior?
She flushes to an almost normal caucasian color and fiddles with her lacy collar.
Angela: Is it hotter in this conference room than normal?
Andy: ...And Mrs. Huber in fifth grade. And my parents (sniff). And Grandma...
As silently as she could, attempting to move without attracting any attention to herself, Angela makes her way over to Dwight's desk on that sales floor, timing her arrival with the absence of Andy and the presence of the fewest people in the area. And by that, she meant no Phyllis.
"Dwight," she whispers, "You need to meet with me for some corrections to your sales figures for the last month. It's urgent."
Dwight stops chewing on his pencil, barely looking up from his monitor to glance askew at his monkey. "But my paperwork is never in error."
"This month it is," Angela says carefully. "If you would please come with me so that we can correct this error."
With shifty eyes, Dwight looks around to see what the office bystanders are witnessing of this conversation. He spies Pam at reception pretending to not be listening in, and Stanley not caring. Luckily, that misanthrope Jim is out on a sales call. Bernard is stuck in the conference room. A small grin reaches his narrow, chapped lips. "Of course, Angela. I would be happy to rectify this error."
In the conference room Andy has recomposed himself.
Andy: Can you edit that last part out? I love my Grandma...
He looks away.
Andy: ...No matter what she says. And things with Angela are going well. And quite frankly, that cat thing had some very, very hot and inappropriate licking. The soon to be hopefully prospective missus Andrew Bernard is a very tasty piece of woman. I haz a flavr.
"Angela," Andy singsongs in a sexy falsetto voice as he emerges from his interview. "Aaaaaaahhhhhngelaaa." He wanders over to the accounting corner and doesn't see his love there with Kevin and Oscar who, once again, are playing hateball. "Very odd." He looks around the sales floor and decides to look into the break room first instead of the annex, knowing that his Angela has a bit of a sweet tooth and spends twice as much on candy as most people here. He's amazed but oh so happy that she can keep her sexilicious figure.
He does find his smooshiepoo in the break room - but she's there with Dwight. Which was odd because Angela didn't usually spend time with Dwight because she didn't usually spend time with anybody. "I've finally found you, Smooshiepoo," Andy says, wrapping his arm protectively around Angela's chair (without touching her, of course) and completely missing the death glare that she gave him for calling her 'Smooshiepoo' (of course). "Why are you in the break room with Dwight? Since when did you not dislike like him?"
"We had some accounting discrepancies we had to take care of, Andy. There is nothing unseemly going on at all. We are simply co-workers who interact as well as co-workers as any others do," explains Angela, calmly but defensively.
Andy kneels in perplexion for a few moments as the rusty gears in his head slowly spun, crushing the hamster and mixing several metaphors. "Then why are you not taking care of accounting discrepancies in the accounting area?"
"Those two miscreants were flinging paper footballs at my head. We had to move our paperworking into the break room. And ironically we have been working very hard."
Andy nods as he slowly absorbs his smooshiepoo's explanation. "I can tell you have been. You look a little flushed. Dealing with Dwight can have that effect on people. I did not get a very good price for my X-Terra from this man. If I was not in such perfect control of my emotions, I would have been quite angry at him."
"You did not get a good price because it is not a good car."
"You take that back!" shouts Andy in a moment of unmanaged anger.
"And it's a truck, not a car!"
"False. Real trucks are built in either America or Germany. A Nissan 'truck' assembled in Brazil? Please. My oncle has a tougher station wagon than that!"
"Dwight, stop it! Can't you see that this pointless argument is disturbing Angela? Look at her. She's getting all pink." Andy takes Angela by the shoulder and leads her out the door. "Come on. I'll take you to lunch."
"Yes, I need a break," she says, gazing longingly at Dwight as she went with Andy onto the sales floor.
"And I can help you with that. Give me a break," he starts singing, "Give me a break, break me off a piece of that... fudgesicles... Argh, I still can't remember!"
"For Chrissakes, it's a Kit Kat commercial," grumbles Stanley. "Nitwit."
Despite the insult, Andy perks up immediately. "Thanks, man. I really appreciate it." He starts singing again. "Give me a break, give me a break, break me off a piece of that Kit Kat... umm... no that doesn't have enough syllables. What is it really?"
Stanley sighs. "If anybody needs me, I'll be in the break room. Taking a break."
"Come here," Andy stage whispered to the cameraman while beckoning him over with his hand. He was wandering down the hall to the room where he had previously found Garbage the cat. "I have something personal and private to show you." The picture shudders for a moment. "Good guess, but no. Something nice for a change." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring, and opens the box to reveal the glittering diamond engagement ring. It's kind of small, actually. "What do you think? Think Angela will like it?" Andy's smile turns into a sideways smirk. "You're not doing the camera-bob head nod thing." His sideways smirk falls into a frown. "Why aren't you doing the camera-bob head nod thing?"
End Notes: Well, that's it, the end of my bit. I thought I'd leave you all with a treat and end with an excerpt from the insane HalloweenJack138.
Angela: I do not have a problem with Oscar.
Angela: I have a problem with Oscar's lifestyle. Deviant sexual behavior has no place in the workplace and I...
Andy wanders into to frame, apparently not noticing the cameras.
Andy: Okay, I've got the candles, the shackles, and disco ball set up in the supply closet and I've got the only key, so...
If Angela had any color in her cheeks, it probably would drain out at this point.