Nope. The situation wasn't anything like one of those in fiction. This was no cute accident that flourished into a beautiful friendship. Had it happened only a second earlier, things could have been much, much worse.

That was no angel that dropped through the ceiling of that particular office restroom.

Muffled mumbling and several choice words were all but swallowed by my (lamentably undignified) "What the *&^$?!?"

In retrospect, it could have been worse. I could have been doing the other business in the commode when he dropped.

The dark blue coverall-clad ginger-haired man gingerly (heh.) stood up while brushing his posterior. "I am so sorry. My companion told me that this was going to be an easy job."

I looked down at the fallen ceiling insulation material. 
 "If wrecking the ceiling was the job, then you've succeeded grandly in that. And in scaring the out of me, while you're at it." My natural defense mechanism, sarcasm, to the rescue.

Suddenly, said mechanism was declawed (rather violently) when I looked up into the slightly apologetic smile that (adorably) crinkled the eyes of the soft-faced intruder. What the hell is wrong with you, Kim Kibum?