Angela feels safe eating lunch in the kitchen again, now that Martin's gone.  Of course, he had seemed like a nice enough man at first, and he'd always kept his desk area so neat and organized, but now she knows that the reason for his cleanliness (which she'd always felt was suspicious) is because he'd been in jail once.  She's never known anyone that's been in jail, and she refuses to watch television programs that involve jail or criminals, but she imagines that they do terrible things there to people who don't keep their cells clean.  Sometimes she thinks she'd like to know what exactly, just so that she'd have something to use against Kevin.  His desk usually looks like one giant candy wrapper.

She peels her banana while opening her Bible, setting it on the table in front of her.  There have been...other activities to keep her from reading it in bed at night like she used to.  So she has begun to take her lunch early so that she can be alone, which is mostly because she hates eating around most of the people she works with.  They have revolting table manners.

Andy comes into the kitchen with his coffee mug.  The mug reads, Beer!  It makes you see double...and feel single!  Angela doesn't know what that means, but she doesn't approve of coffee mugs that celebrate drunkenness, so she scowls at it.  Must people flaunt their debauchery?

"Angel-ahhh," Andy says, as he pours his coffee.  "Angelic Angela.  Reading the Good Word, I see."

"Hello, Andy."  She gives him a flicker of a smile and flips the pages to the Book of John.  Sometimes she considers asking Andy if he has a personal relationship with Jesus.

She begins to read, but Andy slides into the chair next to her and sets his mug down, coffee sloshing over the side of it.  As he drinks, Angela glares down at the brown ring on the table and hopes he plans on cleaning it up.  He slurps loudly, and she looks back down at her Bible.

On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus' mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples had also been-

Andy begins to drum his fingers on the table.  

"That's very distracting," she says, looking at him disdainfully.  

He pulls his chair closer to her.  She recognizes the smell of his cologne from that disgusting store in the mall where the clothes are all ripped and there are pictures of naked people on the bags.  She makes a face and tries to go back to her reading.

"You know," he says, "I played Jesus once."

Angela softens.  "Oh?"

"I was in a production of Jesus Christ Superstar in college.  And it was quite inspirational, I might add."

She frowns.  "That's only the most abominable depiction of the gospel in the world."  She tries to block the image she's getting in her mind of Andy on stage, singing horribly flamboyant songs with unsavory lyrics, wearing a costume that is undoubtedly inappropriate for the portrayal of Jesus Christ.

Andy cocks his head as if he's considering.  "Yeah, you're right.  I totally never thought of it that way."  He squints his eyes.  "I just hope the man upstairs can forgive me for that."

She sighs.  "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to keep reading, please."

"Don't mind me at all," he says, groaning the last word.  "I'm happy just to sit here in your presence."  He gives her a weird smile, showing all of his teeth.

"I'd rather you didn't."

"That gray sweater you have on gives you such a glow...I just can't explain it."

"Please leave."   She tries to ignore him.  This is her alone time, for heaven's sake, and the pattern of his shirt is distracting her from John 2:1.

He begins to sing while pointing his finger at her.  "Earth angel, earth angel, will you be mine-"

Angela slams her book shut and stands up.  "I'm going back to my desk."

"Then I will walk you back."  He rises to his feet.

"That wouldn't be appropriate.  Someone might...see us together."  She looks over her shoulder through the blinds and drops the Bible on to the table.  "I changed my mind; I'm staying here.  You can go."  She gestures towards the door.

Andy pauses, and she watches him impatiently, suddenly not liking him at all because he won't listen to her.  "Well, um," he stumbles.  "There's something I needed to ask you first."

She folds her arms across her chest.  If the question is am I going to hell for starring in a blasphemous play, then the answer is yes.

"I'm just going to be totally honest with you," he says, tilting his head back.  "I adopted a kitten through the humane society last weekend, because I need the company since I moved here from Connecticut, and I live all by myself."  He bobs his head back and forth.  "She's adorable and fluffy and I named her Shadow.  And since you are quite the cat expert, I thought maybe you could give me some advice.  I just don't trust all of those cat magazines that I've been subscribing to."

Angela relaxes the tight line of her lips and raises one eyebrow slightly.  "Well," she says slowly, "I suppose I could give you a few tips."  Anyone who adopts a kitten can't be that bad, and sometimes the magazines are rather impersonal, not to mention poorly written.  "The first thing you should do is find a room where you can set up her litter box and let her get used to everything.  They need time for transitioning."

She stops talking to see if he's paying attention, but his eyes are focused on her sweater.  "Andy," she scolds.  "If you're not going to listen, I can't help you.  Owning a cat is a responsibility, and they have feelings.  Do you even care about her feelings?"  Angela begins to feel tears forming in her eyes over the idea of Andy's poor neglected kitten.  It's not her fault that she was adopted by such an unwholesome man.  And she doesn't wait for his answer.  "I care about her feelings, and if you would just pay attention to me-"

Suddenly Andy's lips are on hers and she nearly chokes on the taste of stale coffee and the smell of cologne made to attract whores.

She pushes him away from her, her cheeks burning, and instinctively whips out her hand, feeling her palm come into sharp contact with his face.  She stares at him for a few seconds, and when he doesn't repent, it angers her even more.

Angela opens her mouth to speak but she's not sure how to best express to him how wrong it is that he kissed her.  He kissed her.  In the office; in broad daylight, where any number of people could have seen.

"You-you can't just kiss me in front of the Bible."  She points to the book lying open on the table.  Andy's blocking the way to the door so she turns and runs into the ladies room.

Once she gets inside, the tears finally come.  She's grateful that certain...individuals exist in a state of ignorant bliss, because if those individuals had seen what had happened, it would have been terrible. And the worst part is that now she's certain that Andy doesn't even have a cat at all.

Angela reaches towards the soap dispenser and pushes it until she has a handful of liquid soap.  Mixing it with water, she scrubs her lips clean of Andy's unforgivable transgression.

She's rinsing her face when Pam comes into the bathroom.  She stands next to the sink and stares at Angela's reflection in the mirror.

"Angela?" she says tentatively.  "Are you okay?"

Angela wants to explain a thing or two to Pam, because obviously Pam doesn't understand what it means to be chaste and to have someone violate her chastity as if she were some kind of trollop.  But Pam believes that it's all right to be promiscuous, so her explanation would be fruitless.

She lets out a shaky breath.  "A-a bug touched my mouth."

Pam furrows her eyebrows.  "A bug?"

Angela nods.  Her lips and chin are still all wet but she doesn't even care.

Something like realization flickers across Pam's face.  "Oh," she says slowly.  "Was it a big bug-with a J. Crew tie?"

Suddenly Angela can't stop crying again.  "Yes," she says tearfully.  

Pam reaches over and takes a wad of paper towels.  She hands them to Angela.  "Here."

Angela blots her face.  "Thank you," she says, trying to hold in a sob.  Sometimes she thinks Pam can be a good person.

"Do you need anything else?" Pam asks.

Angela shakes her head and sniffs.

"Okay.  I'm going back to my desk.  And I won't mention anything to anyone about the...bug problem."  Pam leaves the bathroom.

When the door closes, Angela clasps her hands in front of her and closes her eyes.  "Dear God," she prays, "please forgive me in advance for the terrible things that I will be thinking about Andy.  Please deliver me from any further advances from him, and please, please don't let certain individuals ever find out about this."  She takes in a deep breath.  "Amen."

Angela comes out of the ladies room and picks up her book from the table.  As she walks out of the kitchen back into the office towards her desk, she sees Andy already at his seat, the one next to hers.  She ignores him, and presses the Bible firmly against her for protection while holding her head high, sliding into her chair.