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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

It had been six months since Kelly had retired her angry singing voice reserved for the likes of “You Oughta Know” and equally pissed off femme rockers, since she had finally smiled at a joke (a lame joke, but a joke all the same), since she had worn a bright color without feeling irrationally guilty, since she’d spent an entire lunch break without thinking of Ryan Howard once.

   

It had been six months since Kelly had accepted a date from Andy and she was still waiting patiently for her senses to kick in.

 

  

Andy was the guy that had a temper that scared her sometimes, that agreed with Michael way too much (so did Dwight, but he was, like, a leper), and sung at inappropriate times and this Andy that she was dating was… not. He was the guy that had her taste in music (90’s pop was totally underappreciated), that held the door open for her at restaurants (and her chair), that remembered their one month anniversary (one year was paper so he brought her a dispenser of post-its which she totally didn’t need but it’s the thought, right?), and that really didn’t mind holding her hand in line for popcorn at the movies (Ryan always had a weird thing about PDA anywhere but work but he wouldn’t see romantic comedies so it wasn’t like the opportunity had presented itself often anyway).

 

They’d had four fights, she’d counted because when you’re dating a guy that once put a hole in plaster the size of baby Suri you start to worry for your newly lavender painted accent wall. But he’d just breathed in deeply through his nose and closed his eyes like he was trying to find a zen place or something (which totally freaked her out because at least when someone’s angry you know it and they aren’t bottling it all up to axe murder their whole family ten years later, not that she thought Andy was the type but she wondered some days). It had almost made her want to do something rash like shave her head (she totally knew where Britney was coming from sometimes) just to provoke a reaction, but they’d just ended up having semi-angry makeup sex and that was okay too (she likes her hair anyway).    

Needless to say that once at lunch when Jim looked at her in the ‘I’m worried for your sanity’ way, she’d almost said “I know, right?” before Andy bumped his knee up against hers under the table and she remembered.    

But she could swear that Andy was slowly creeping into her life. It had started with the non-date but only in name because they both knew that she just wasn’t willing to admit it, then she’d let him kiss her (once), but over the months he’d gotten closer, inch by inch, with steps small enough that she couldn’t talk herself out of it.    

Kelly was starting to actually trust him with was so not good.    

She’d sworn at the time that serious relationships were so last year and that she was just using him for sex, or something equally feminist and strong in the way that that biker chick had taught her when she’d gotten drunk that first Thursday night. But she was starting to doubt her own motives.    

She was not in a relationship. She just wasn’t.    

But every time she’d set out to let him down gently he would remember that she liked maraschino cherry juice in her coke or buy her a candle in the exact shade of her favorite color or remember the name of the teddy bear she’d had since she was five and suddenly a relationship didn’t seem like such a bad idea.    

But for this, she is truly crazy. I mean, Andy’s parents have to be like, fantastically rich because he went to Cornell (and he makes it seem like that’s a really big deal and big deals tend to be expensive) and probably won’t like her at all. Plus, they’re probably just as weird as he is, which, to be honest, is less than she’d have said a year ago, but still pretty crazy.    

Which is why her healthy salad is a mere leafy sludge the Friday beforehand, from her incessant poking. She hadn’t noticed Andy watching her, but she guesses she was sitting next to him and he had forgotten his newspaper at home (so he said, but it was really just TV guide) so it wasn’t totally creepy.    

“Sooooo,” Andy draws the word out, like in all the time it takes him to say it she’ll stop looking so sad and nervous. It doesn’t work, Kelly’s eyes still trained on the smushed tomato and the ends of her fork tines, only her ears having picked up. “Is there something I can do about that salad? It looks kind of gross…but not that, you know, you can’t make a salad or anything,” he amended quickly, as if afraid of offending her, “because I know you’re really… good. At that.” Andy suddenly looked very  uncomfortable.    

“No, salad’s fine.” Kelly assured, but contradicted herself by pushing it away.    

“Okey-doky.” They sat in silence for a few more seconds, which, Kelly realized, was probably what had given her away to begin with. She was never quiet at lunch, but she hadn’t spoken more than a few words today.   

“Do you, you know,” he looked oddly vulnerable, which Kelly hated because it made her get all mushy inside and it’s hard to use someone for sex when you have feelings and stuff. Because, she really wasn’t in a relationship. She wasn’t. “Do you, um, not want to go tomorrow? I mean, to meet my parents?” He glanced up at her in a way that reminded her of the puppy she had when she was twelve.    

“No!” Kelly quickly assured, maybe a little too loudly, and Jim and Pam glanced up suddenly at the outburst. Pam returned her gaze to the food in front of her, her previous smile still in place, while Jim just shook his head, which make Kelly really pissed off. Because not every one can be all perfect and stuff and why should he be the one to judge? At least Kelly didn’t sit around for forever just because she was a big chicken. She was about to say something to that effect when Andy sighed beside her.    

He started muttering to himself. “I knew it… too soon…”   

“No, I mean, I want to.” Relief swept over his face, but the troubled expression returned as he noticed her uneasiness. “It’s just that, I don’t have the greatest track record with parents.” Kelly frowned, memories of patiently strained smiles and conversations in the kitchen over dishes that she really shouldn’t have eavesdropped in on.    

Andy made a ‘pft’ sound and flapped his hand in a way that she supposed was an attempt to allay her fears. “That’s just plain old ridiculous.”   She flashed him the ‘oh please’ face, but his easy smile didn’t disappear.    

This, he knew, was a problem he could take care of.    

“Come on Andy. I’m just not…” she searched out the right phrasing, as Andy continued to look at her incredulously. “I’m not parent material.”   

He just rolled his eyes. “Preposterous. They’ll love you as much as I do.” But it was his turn to be at a loss for words, not believing he’d really just said what he’d just said. “I mean…”   

And approximately six months and two weeks ago Kelly would have been positively over the moon to interpret it in the most optimistic way. But it wasn’t and she wouldn’t. “I know what you mean Andy. Don’t even worry about it.”   

But he just shook his head, swallowing an invisible mouthful “No I do. Mean it.”   Kelly glanced up at him, shocked, as he gazed back at her with equal confusion, maybe because couldn’t believe he’d let it slip, but maybe at a loss for what her reaction would be.   

They hadn’t touched those three words (or as she liked to call them, the three words of death) for as long as they’d been together. Mostly because the three syllables had been quarantined, doused in cyanide and wrapped in barbed wire. It was a condition Kelly had insisted upon before any dating, kissing or sex. She’d spent a year waiting and hoping to hear them echoed back to her, and anything that invoked memories of that had to be burned.   

But before she had a chance to speak and remind him of any of these things, Dwight burst in and pointed accusingly at Andy.   

“You!”   

She couldn’t recall what transpired for the next few minutes of lunch break, something about toner or bobble heads or… something. But she caught Pam and Jim giggling in the corner so she guessed that they had something to do with it. They should really let up soon. Andy wasn’t such a bad guy, after all.    

Kelly slipped out of the break room in a daze, and she purposely waited until Andy was long gone for the week before sulking to her car. She had to figure out a way to deal with this crisis rationally.   With ice cream.   

*   

Kelly has decided that six am is way to early to be expected to be awake, none the less dressed and pretty enough to meet one’s non-boyfriend’s parents. It’s just cruel. But here she was, a frappuccino (the kind from her fridge, not from the store because Starbucks couldn’t pay their employees enough to be at work at this hour) clutched tightly in one hand and a hoodie pulled over her outfit. Even the sun had the decency to sleep in later than this. Which would probably explain the annoyed expression pressed like dried flowers onto her face when she wrenched the door open, if she was really thinking about it. Andy’s hesitant knock had belayed the equally unsure expression on his face, and when she scowled further she thought she saw him wince.   

“’m, lady.” He greeted, but his heart wasn’t in it and it just hung there like stale air between them for a few moments before Kelly managed to splash on a somewhat-smile and gestured inside.   

“Truth be told, I was worried you wouldn’t, you know, answer. But just a smidge.”   

Andy gestured that amount with his fingers but she could definitely tell that if he wasn’t minimizing it his arms would be stretched out and flapping wildly.    

“That’s silly.” Kelly assured, although it came out more like a scolding than anything else.   

“Yeah,” he agreed half-heartedly. “Sure thing.”   

And then there was the silence again. Seriously? Between the two of them there had rarely been a quiet moment in their presence. Ever. Awk-ward, she sing-songed in her head and considered saying it out loud to break the tension before Andy finally spoke.   

“We should probably hit the road, jack, because the boat sets sail at eight.”   

“Boat?!?” she exclaimed sharply, whirling around towards her bedroom, “I am totally not wearing the right shoes for a boat.”

 

Kelly dropped to her knees before her closet, hefting shoe after shoe over her shoulder and ignoring the crashes they caused. When one narrowly missed his head, Andy questioned, clearly confused, “What’s wrong with the shoes you’re wearing? I thought you loved the strappy sandals?” His friends would tease him endlessly if they ever heard him say anything even disguised as that last sentence, but his time with Kelly had taught him not to care.  

  

“No, no, no” she proclaimed seriously. “I can’t wear heels! I just can’t. The boat will tip and I’ll trip and fall overboard and then not only will your parents not like me but I’ll die wearing cheap perfume and with frizzy hair!”

 

Andy risked getting clobbered with a clog to sink down next to her. “That is not going to happen. Besides…” he averted his eyes to his miraculously unstained-as-of-yet khaki pants, “If you fell overboard I would totally dive in to save you.”   

Kelly really, really, really tried to fight the grin that was threatening to break loose on her lips, but she bargained with it and it settled for a thin smile.

 

“Really?”   

Encouraged by her positive response he lifted his eyes.   

“Yeah, totally.”    

Kelly nodded once and if she was really being honest with herself about this whole dating-versus-not thing she’s have to admit that the odds were traitorously adding up in his favor. Damn numbers. They were very difficult to stand up and say no, that’s not true to.    

“Hey, Andy?”   

“Yes dear madam?”   

“If we were ever at like a park, or something, and some kid spilled, I don’t know, something liquid-y on me, would you laugh at me?”   

Andy scoffed as if she’d just asked him if he didn’t secretly think boy bands were made of awesome.    “I would be laughing at him. On the ground. Because that’s where he would be after I pummeled him.”   

Okay, so add one more tally to the “to date” side.    

*   

As it so happened, the day wasn’t a compete disaster.    

Listening to some R&B on the car radio on the way there had definitely helped calm Kelly’s nerves (Usher’s voice had that effect on her), and by the time they’d gotten to the docks she was her normal bouncy self. Which she still wasn’t completely sure was a good thing, because parents tended to prefer the subdued type of girl, but Andy was positive of the opposite.

 

So she took the time to glance Andy over for the first time, and was startled to realize just how good he looked in his white button up polo and navy blue tie. She knew she didn’t mind the work-shirt Andy, and the sweater-vest-at-a-bar Andy wasn’t too bad, and she was particularly fond of the shirtless-wrapped-in-sheets Andy (she woke up to it nearly every morning, so she’d better like it) but this was a surprise.    

Kelly was still eyeing him appreciatively as the crunch of gravel leading up to the water gave way to sand. Andy pointed a trembling finger (now he was more nervous than she was, how did that happen?) at the boat. She should have been more surprised to see that the letters etched across the side spelled out Cornell, but sadly she was not. It also explained some things. A lot of things, actually.    

The dock creaked under their feet as they made their way toward the floating vessel, and two hours ago Kelly would have been totally afraid yet secretly hoping for it to give way and never have to reach to end, but she was happy to know that her self-confidence had returned.    

“Hell-oooooo, there,” someone called out from the hull and a man who looked to be about twenty rose from the boat.   

It had turned out to be Andy’s younger brother Greg, who drank a little too much, played tennis better, and had stolen two of Andy’s former girlfriends. This explained the way Andy narrowed his eyes so minutely that anyone else could have thought it was from the sunshine, and placed a hand on the small of Kelly’s back. He had hopped on first, and had graciously offered a helping hand because despite her change in shoe-wear she had never been good with balance.    

Andy parents were super nice, though, and kind of reminded Kelly of, well, her and Andy. His father wore spectacles that routinely slid down his nose from the heat-induced sweatiness, had kissed her hand when they’d met like she was some princess from a far-away land (which she totally dug) and had driven the boat away into the open water somewhat like an amateur even though he’d apparently been sailing for years. His mother, however, was graceful. She talked a little too much, and since so did Kelly their sentences ran together like watercolor until their conversations were just one long thread, but because they were who they were they giggled the whole time. As it turned out, his mother (Shirley, like the drink) wanted Kelly to have babies as much as Kelly had just a short time ago, before stupid Ryan had ruined everything. But she began to think that maybe everything hadn’t been ruined after all, because as she listened to the other woman talk about how cute Andy had been as a baby, with his tiny little sneakers and tiny little pants, Kelly felt herself to grow slightly excited about the whole thing again. Andy, for some reason or another, began to get slightly flustered around that point in the conversation, and had bumbled through disjointed sentences whenever they asked his opinion about stuff.   

“You’re doomed, son, just give into it.” His father had chuckled, and Andy’s slightly green coloring faded and he’d managed a smile at her, which she had absolutely no problem what-so-ever returning.    

And he even ate three of her brownies that she’d brought, when she’d thought she’d needed a bribe, like he didn’t know she’d accidentally left them out all night.    

When they’d waved good-bye at the docks, Kelly and his mother even hugged each other and made a phone date to share even more embarrassing stories about Andy. At that point, though, he had faded into a more easy-going version of himself, and had just laughed.    

“Not so bad, huh?” Andy had inquired as they drove home, Kelly drifting between the thump-thump of the tires on the road and a dream where they lived on a house boat like Noah and whatever his wife’s name was.    

“Mmm-hmm.” She’d agreed sleepily, resting her head on his shoulder suddenly and causing the wheel to drift over to the side. But Andy corrected the movement and didn’t shrug her off. “Oh, and Andy?” she whispered, rising slowly from her perch and toward his ear. “I think we can definitely start dating now.”   

Andy smiled out at the dark roads, a memory of that day coming drifting back him like a strand of seaweed rippling towards the shore; when she’d slipped off her dark movie star glasses to reveal the fine features of her eyes like peeking inside the unpolished shell of an oyster to find a pearl, and she’d grinned slowly at him like she didn’t trust it quite yet. That was when he’d known for sure.    

“Awesome.”

 

Chapter End Notes:
I love reviews almost as much as this ship. No pun intended.


bebitched is the author of 66 other stories.
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