Top Banana - Arrested Development
Fandom: Arrested Development
Pairings: George Michael Bluth/Maeby Funke.
Rating: R
Word Count: 2279
A/N: Written for togapika in the 2010 Yuletide Challenge, and archived here.
It wasn't until halfway through his first semester at college that George Michael realized how much he missed Maeby. Unfortunately by that time she was 2500 miles away and attending college in a small Ohio town.
At first George Michael's decision to go to Cal had seemed sensible. A bargain with his father: it was close enough to home that George Michael could visit without too much trouble, but far enough away as to give him a taste of independence. Plus it was a Good School, which was all his father cared about. (Even if the idea of George Michael attending such a liberal institution repulsed Lucille so much she swore she would be driven to an early grave. “But you must do as you like, of course, dear.”)
After a rather too-eventful visit home, George Michael decided that he should write to his cousin. He wasn't really in the habit of writing to anyone, as he'd never really had many friends, but he thought he would like to keep in touch with Maeby.
To: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
From: gmbluth@bluthco.com
Date: November 9, 2006
Subject: Break
Dear Maeby,
Will you be home for Thanksgiving? I was back last weekend and Pop-Pop told me he's going to try to get Buster to stuff the turkey with his hook! Haha. He doesn't mean it, even though Buster thinks he does and has been hiding under his bed to avoid him.
Hope you're having fun at school!
Sincerely,
George Michael
-
To: gmbluth@bluthco.com
From: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
Date: November 12, 2006
Subject: Re: Break
Yo G.M.
Yeah, I'll be there. I wasn't going to but my dad cried for an hour on the phone to me so I said I'd come just to shut him up.
Peace out g-man,
Maeby
--
True to her word, Maeby showed up at Thanksgiving dinner with both her parents in tow. Unfortunately, Gob insisted on staging his latest display of magic before George Michael could say hello to her, so they didn't get a chance to talk until she'd had time to consume considerably more wine than turkey.
(“Taking after Lindsay,” Michael had winked, in a way George Michael thought to be rather passive-aggressive.)
“It's so nice that you decided to go to Cal to be near the family, George Michael,” was the first thing Maeby said to him. “I bet you go to get-togethers like these all the time!”
“Cal isn't close, it's seven hours away! Besides, we couldn't all run to the farthest college we could find,” said George Michael almost bitterly.
Maeby just laughed and drunkenly patted his cheek. “Oberlin isn't the farthest I could find, I could have gone to New England!”
“It's still far.”
“True,” she trailed off, seeming to consider something. “This party blows,” she said, sobering slightly. “Wanna go make out?” she grinned.
“W-what?” George Michael asked, laughing nervously at the sudden change in topic.
“You heard me. Meet me in Buster's room, five minutes.”
Still flummoxed, George Michael cast a wary eye on the adults, who seemed to be embroiled in an argument of some kind. Buster was getting rather too flustered for George Michael's comfort, and was carelessly brandishing his hook about. While the prospect of that hook getting too close to any delicate area of his body was definitely frightening, he couldn't resist Maeby's summons.
He slid into the room a few minutes later and shut the door carefully, turning to look at Maeby. “You're drunk, this is wrong,” his mouth said, while somewhere rather south of there screamed at him to shut up.
“No, it's right,” she said.
George Michael couldn't resist. He kissed Maeby passionately and every part of him seemed to come alive. He had waited so long for this, it felt new and exciting, yet somehow comfortable and familiar. He enjoyed the feeling of his fingers through her hair. It was crimpier than he had remembered. He had just mustered the courage to try to work off her bra when she stopped suddenly.
“What is it? Did I do something wrong?” he asked nervously.
Maeby answered by retching on his shoes before running out of the room.
“Figures,” he muttered.
-
He didn't see her for the rest of the weekend, but it wasn't long before they were both back in school and Maeby sent him an apology note.
To: gmbluth@bluthco.com
From: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
Date: November 29, 2006
Subject: Thanksgiving
Hey man,
Sorry getting wasted at Thanksgiving turned out so badly! How drunk were we? And no one even noticed! Haha.
I heard you're going away with your dad for Christmas? You lucky bastard. Take me with you?
See ya,
Maeby
-
George Michael didn't see his cousin again until summer. He was walking along the boardwalk coming back from checking on the banana stand when he saw her, sitting on a wall eating ice cream in a dejected-looking way.
“All alone?” he asked, launching himself up onto the wall beside her.
“I'm always all alone,” she sighed.
“That's not true. You can never be alone when you're a Bluth. It's like a curse,” George Michael joked.
She didn't say anything, but leaned her head on his shoulder. She was wearing a yellow sundress that didn't quite reach the top of her breasts. Even as George Michael was trying not to look, a drop of ice cream fell from her melting cone and landed in her cleavage. He bent over and licked it off without a second thought.
Maeby smiled.
-
Looking back on it later, George Michael wasn't quite sure what had happened. He and Maeby spent the summer simultaneously avoiding each other at family functions, then furtively groping each other in closets when those functions became too dull. No matter how hard he tried to talk to Maeby about what was happening, he could never seem to get a word in. So when he saw her at their grandparents' house the week before school started, he took his chance.
“Hey George Michael,” Maeby greeted him. “I'm trying to get Uncle Gob to believe I'm carrying an alien baby. Think he'll go for it?” she asked, grinning.
“Probably. But listen, Maeby, don't you think you and I should talk before it's time for you to go back to school?”
“Talk about what?”
“You and me and what we--”
“--we're friends,” interrupted Maeby with finality.
“Friends who...?” prompted George Michael.
“Bitch about their family and tell each other about the funny shit that happens to them.” Maeby supplied.
George Michael sighed. “I can do that,” he said, secretly lamenting the loss of his dream to kiss every one of her freckles.
The smile she gave in return almost made it worth it.
-
Distance played its part again. Maeby did not return to the west coast at all the next winter. George Michael heard vague rumors of a boyfriend, Jeffrey, but tried valiantly to ignore them. He instead concentrated his efforts in writing to Maeby-at such infrequent intervals as to conserve an image of impartiality-but he found his cousin to be an unreliable correspondent that he almost gave up entirely.
To: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
From: gmbluth@bluthco.com
Date: September 8, 2007
Subject: Funny video
Dear Maeby,
So after you left Uncle Gob told everyone about your “alien baby” and Gangy said she wasn't surprised!
I'm back at school now. Did I tell you that I'm thinking about running for student body president? I guess you probably think that's dorky, huh? Not for at least a year, I still have to come up with a campaign and stuff, it's not as easy as it was in high school.
Talk to you later,
George Michael
P.S. here's a funny video about hipsters.
Her unsatisfying reply came some weeks later.
To: gmbluth@bluthco.com
From: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
Date: September 20, 2007
Subject: Re: Funny video
Yo, G.M.--
Haha, that video made me laugh!
--Maeby
-
When Maeby returned for Christmas, George Michael took his chance. He put a great deal of thought into the best way to approach her. He would tell her point-blank how he felt and would ask her to consider how great things could be between them. He rehearsed his speech in his head before he fell asleep, and in the bathroom mirror in the mornings. He was determined to do it right. This was until he was actually standing in front his cousin, then all words failed him.
“Hey look, mistletoe,” he pointed.
“So kiss me,” she smiled.
George Michael had no idea how things had turned out so well after he had completely bungled up everything he had planned to say, but he wasn't going to argue. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Their kiss was soft and slow, as perfect as George Michael could have wished for.
“Maeby, do you think, could...?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes,” she breathed.
George Michael though he would die of happiness.
-
Reflecting on it later George Michael though he should have seen it coming. Maeby had never been the kind to face her feelings head-on, and that Christmas had been too perfect.
Once she had gone back to school he didn't hear from her at all, even though he wrote her every week. At first he poured his heart out to her, telling her everything. From how much she meant to him, to more detailed plans of his campaign for student body president. But she never responded. After a month he stopped telling her how much he missed her. After three he stopped writing altogether.
Still, his heart leapt when, that summer, he saw an email from Maeby in his inbox.
To: gmblith@bluthco.com
From: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
Date: June 17, 2008
Subject: Back for a few
Hey G.M.,
I'll be back for a month or two on the 20th. See you soon!
--Maeby
George Michael tried to be angry, and when that failed he tried for indignant, but he couldn't help himself from smiling.
-
Things didn't go as well as he hoped. Maeby was as withdrawn as usual, even though he was seeing more of her than ever. But after years of secretly pining for his cousin he started to realize that he didn't want this shell of her, he wanted all of her. His cousin Maeby was vivacious, adventurous, fearless; but the girl he was seeing now was none of those things.
George Michael never quite knew what tipped the scales, but one night he'd had enough. He stood in the middle of the cold room, refastening his belt as he watched Maeby, curled up and nude, pretend to be asleep in the middle of the bed. Their encounter had been fast, dirty, and not the first time.
“Do you even want to keep doing this?” he asked.
“Yeah, I guess. I don't know,” she replied.
“All the excuses are kind of wearing thin,” he said, frustrated. “What do you want, Maeby?” he asked, quelling the urge to shake her.
He waited, but her lack of an answer made him want to scream. When he couldn't stand one more second he left, slamming the door behind him.
“I want you,” said Maeby, her voice cracking in the silence of the empty room.
-
They didn't speak for weeks. It was six months before Maeby had the courage to email him.
To: gmbluth@bluthco.com
From: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
Date: January 2, 2009
Subject: Sorry
George Michael,
I'm sorry, I want this to work. I swear. What can I do?
--Maeby
The reply was simple, but it still cut her.
To: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
From: gmbluth@bluthco.com
Date: January 4, 2009
Subject: Re: Sorry
Convince me you're worth it.
--
It was an unusually warm and sunny day in Berkeley when Maeby crossed Sproul Plaza. It took her some time to be able to maneuver through the crowds of students. People pointed and laughed, and her costume kept catching on passerby.
“Why's she wearing that banana suit?” a passing student wondered aloud.
“Oh my god, have you ever seen anything so yellow?” a girl asked her friend.
“Are you going to teach me how to put on a condom?” joked a loud-mouthed freshman.
Maeby grabbed a stack of fliers from her bag, cleared her throat and shouted as loudly as she could, “George Michael Bluth for ASUC President! You'd be bananas not to vote for him!”
Although she attracted a good deal of attention, it wasn't as much as she had expected. Cal had a huge campus and its students passed her mostly unfazed. Used to life at Oberlin, Maeby hadn't caused quite the commotion she had hoped. She was starting to fear that her gesture would pass unnoticed by the person for whom it was intended, when George Michael found her.
“Vote for George Michael?” Maeby jokingly asked.
“You did all this?” he asked quietly
“Yes,” replied Maeby, bravely meeting his gaze.
“Why?” he asked her, still not smiling.
“Because it's important to you. And because I love you, and I'm sorry!” she wailed.
Her last words were muffled by George Michael's shirt, as he pulled her tightly to his chest.
“You know you're hugging a banana?” Maeby pointed out, sniffling. “This will probably hurt your campaign chances.”
“I don't care,” he said, kissing her. “I love you too, even if you want to take after your father and never take that banana suit off.
She laughed, and as he stared down at her beautiful, yellow-framed face he no longer had to wonder if he'd get the chance to kiss every one of her freckles.
Pairings: George Michael Bluth/Maeby Funke.
Rating: R
Word Count: 2279
A/N: Written for togapika in the 2010 Yuletide Challenge, and archived here.
It wasn't until halfway through his first semester at college that George Michael realized how much he missed Maeby. Unfortunately by that time she was 2500 miles away and attending college in a small Ohio town.
At first George Michael's decision to go to Cal had seemed sensible. A bargain with his father: it was close enough to home that George Michael could visit without too much trouble, but far enough away as to give him a taste of independence. Plus it was a Good School, which was all his father cared about. (Even if the idea of George Michael attending such a liberal institution repulsed Lucille so much she swore she would be driven to an early grave. “But you must do as you like, of course, dear.”)
After a rather too-eventful visit home, George Michael decided that he should write to his cousin. He wasn't really in the habit of writing to anyone, as he'd never really had many friends, but he thought he would like to keep in touch with Maeby.
To: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
From: gmbluth@bluthco.com
Date: November 9, 2006
Subject: Break
Dear Maeby,
Will you be home for Thanksgiving? I was back last weekend and Pop-Pop told me he's going to try to get Buster to stuff the turkey with his hook! Haha. He doesn't mean it, even though Buster thinks he does and has been hiding under his bed to avoid him.
Hope you're having fun at school!
Sincerely,
George Michael
-
To: gmbluth@bluthco.com
From: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
Date: November 12, 2006
Subject: Re: Break
Yo G.M.
Yeah, I'll be there. I wasn't going to but my dad cried for an hour on the phone to me so I said I'd come just to shut him up.
Peace out g-man,
Maeby
--
True to her word, Maeby showed up at Thanksgiving dinner with both her parents in tow. Unfortunately, Gob insisted on staging his latest display of magic before George Michael could say hello to her, so they didn't get a chance to talk until she'd had time to consume considerably more wine than turkey.
(“Taking after Lindsay,” Michael had winked, in a way George Michael thought to be rather passive-aggressive.)
“It's so nice that you decided to go to Cal to be near the family, George Michael,” was the first thing Maeby said to him. “I bet you go to get-togethers like these all the time!”
“Cal isn't close, it's seven hours away! Besides, we couldn't all run to the farthest college we could find,” said George Michael almost bitterly.
Maeby just laughed and drunkenly patted his cheek. “Oberlin isn't the farthest I could find, I could have gone to New England!”
“It's still far.”
“True,” she trailed off, seeming to consider something. “This party blows,” she said, sobering slightly. “Wanna go make out?” she grinned.
“W-what?” George Michael asked, laughing nervously at the sudden change in topic.
“You heard me. Meet me in Buster's room, five minutes.”
Still flummoxed, George Michael cast a wary eye on the adults, who seemed to be embroiled in an argument of some kind. Buster was getting rather too flustered for George Michael's comfort, and was carelessly brandishing his hook about. While the prospect of that hook getting too close to any delicate area of his body was definitely frightening, he couldn't resist Maeby's summons.
He slid into the room a few minutes later and shut the door carefully, turning to look at Maeby. “You're drunk, this is wrong,” his mouth said, while somewhere rather south of there screamed at him to shut up.
“No, it's right,” she said.
George Michael couldn't resist. He kissed Maeby passionately and every part of him seemed to come alive. He had waited so long for this, it felt new and exciting, yet somehow comfortable and familiar. He enjoyed the feeling of his fingers through her hair. It was crimpier than he had remembered. He had just mustered the courage to try to work off her bra when she stopped suddenly.
“What is it? Did I do something wrong?” he asked nervously.
Maeby answered by retching on his shoes before running out of the room.
“Figures,” he muttered.
-
He didn't see her for the rest of the weekend, but it wasn't long before they were both back in school and Maeby sent him an apology note.
To: gmbluth@bluthco.com
From: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
Date: November 29, 2006
Subject: Thanksgiving
Hey man,
Sorry getting wasted at Thanksgiving turned out so badly! How drunk were we? And no one even noticed! Haha.
I heard you're going away with your dad for Christmas? You lucky bastard. Take me with you?
See ya,
Maeby
-
George Michael didn't see his cousin again until summer. He was walking along the boardwalk coming back from checking on the banana stand when he saw her, sitting on a wall eating ice cream in a dejected-looking way.
“All alone?” he asked, launching himself up onto the wall beside her.
“I'm always all alone,” she sighed.
“That's not true. You can never be alone when you're a Bluth. It's like a curse,” George Michael joked.
She didn't say anything, but leaned her head on his shoulder. She was wearing a yellow sundress that didn't quite reach the top of her breasts. Even as George Michael was trying not to look, a drop of ice cream fell from her melting cone and landed in her cleavage. He bent over and licked it off without a second thought.
Maeby smiled.
-
Looking back on it later, George Michael wasn't quite sure what had happened. He and Maeby spent the summer simultaneously avoiding each other at family functions, then furtively groping each other in closets when those functions became too dull. No matter how hard he tried to talk to Maeby about what was happening, he could never seem to get a word in. So when he saw her at their grandparents' house the week before school started, he took his chance.
“Hey George Michael,” Maeby greeted him. “I'm trying to get Uncle Gob to believe I'm carrying an alien baby. Think he'll go for it?” she asked, grinning.
“Probably. But listen, Maeby, don't you think you and I should talk before it's time for you to go back to school?”
“Talk about what?”
“You and me and what we--”
“--we're friends,” interrupted Maeby with finality.
“Friends who...?” prompted George Michael.
“Bitch about their family and tell each other about the funny shit that happens to them.” Maeby supplied.
George Michael sighed. “I can do that,” he said, secretly lamenting the loss of his dream to kiss every one of her freckles.
The smile she gave in return almost made it worth it.
-
Distance played its part again. Maeby did not return to the west coast at all the next winter. George Michael heard vague rumors of a boyfriend, Jeffrey, but tried valiantly to ignore them. He instead concentrated his efforts in writing to Maeby-at such infrequent intervals as to conserve an image of impartiality-but he found his cousin to be an unreliable correspondent that he almost gave up entirely.
To: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
From: gmbluth@bluthco.com
Date: September 8, 2007
Subject: Funny video
Dear Maeby,
So after you left Uncle Gob told everyone about your “alien baby” and Gangy said she wasn't surprised!
I'm back at school now. Did I tell you that I'm thinking about running for student body president? I guess you probably think that's dorky, huh? Not for at least a year, I still have to come up with a campaign and stuff, it's not as easy as it was in high school.
Talk to you later,
George Michael
P.S. here's a funny video about hipsters.
Her unsatisfying reply came some weeks later.
To: gmbluth@bluthco.com
From: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
Date: September 20, 2007
Subject: Re: Funny video
Yo, G.M.--
Haha, that video made me laugh!
--Maeby
-
When Maeby returned for Christmas, George Michael took his chance. He put a great deal of thought into the best way to approach her. He would tell her point-blank how he felt and would ask her to consider how great things could be between them. He rehearsed his speech in his head before he fell asleep, and in the bathroom mirror in the mornings. He was determined to do it right. This was until he was actually standing in front his cousin, then all words failed him.
“Hey look, mistletoe,” he pointed.
“So kiss me,” she smiled.
George Michael had no idea how things had turned out so well after he had completely bungled up everything he had planned to say, but he wasn't going to argue. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Their kiss was soft and slow, as perfect as George Michael could have wished for.
“Maeby, do you think, could...?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes,” she breathed.
George Michael though he would die of happiness.
-
Reflecting on it later George Michael though he should have seen it coming. Maeby had never been the kind to face her feelings head-on, and that Christmas had been too perfect.
Once she had gone back to school he didn't hear from her at all, even though he wrote her every week. At first he poured his heart out to her, telling her everything. From how much she meant to him, to more detailed plans of his campaign for student body president. But she never responded. After a month he stopped telling her how much he missed her. After three he stopped writing altogether.
Still, his heart leapt when, that summer, he saw an email from Maeby in his inbox.
To: gmblith@bluthco.com
From: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
Date: June 17, 2008
Subject: Back for a few
Hey G.M.,
I'll be back for a month or two on the 20th. See you soon!
--Maeby
George Michael tried to be angry, and when that failed he tried for indignant, but he couldn't help himself from smiling.
-
Things didn't go as well as he hoped. Maeby was as withdrawn as usual, even though he was seeing more of her than ever. But after years of secretly pining for his cousin he started to realize that he didn't want this shell of her, he wanted all of her. His cousin Maeby was vivacious, adventurous, fearless; but the girl he was seeing now was none of those things.
George Michael never quite knew what tipped the scales, but one night he'd had enough. He stood in the middle of the cold room, refastening his belt as he watched Maeby, curled up and nude, pretend to be asleep in the middle of the bed. Their encounter had been fast, dirty, and not the first time.
“Do you even want to keep doing this?” he asked.
“Yeah, I guess. I don't know,” she replied.
“All the excuses are kind of wearing thin,” he said, frustrated. “What do you want, Maeby?” he asked, quelling the urge to shake her.
He waited, but her lack of an answer made him want to scream. When he couldn't stand one more second he left, slamming the door behind him.
“I want you,” said Maeby, her voice cracking in the silence of the empty room.
-
They didn't speak for weeks. It was six months before Maeby had the courage to email him.
To: gmbluth@bluthco.com
From: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
Date: January 2, 2009
Subject: Sorry
George Michael,
I'm sorry, I want this to work. I swear. What can I do?
--Maeby
The reply was simple, but it still cut her.
To: reckless.freckles@mymail.com
From: gmbluth@bluthco.com
Date: January 4, 2009
Subject: Re: Sorry
Convince me you're worth it.
--
It was an unusually warm and sunny day in Berkeley when Maeby crossed Sproul Plaza. It took her some time to be able to maneuver through the crowds of students. People pointed and laughed, and her costume kept catching on passerby.
“Why's she wearing that banana suit?” a passing student wondered aloud.
“Oh my god, have you ever seen anything so yellow?” a girl asked her friend.
“Are you going to teach me how to put on a condom?” joked a loud-mouthed freshman.
Maeby grabbed a stack of fliers from her bag, cleared her throat and shouted as loudly as she could, “George Michael Bluth for ASUC President! You'd be bananas not to vote for him!”
Although she attracted a good deal of attention, it wasn't as much as she had expected. Cal had a huge campus and its students passed her mostly unfazed. Used to life at Oberlin, Maeby hadn't caused quite the commotion she had hoped. She was starting to fear that her gesture would pass unnoticed by the person for whom it was intended, when George Michael found her.
“Vote for George Michael?” Maeby jokingly asked.
“You did all this?” he asked quietly
“Yes,” replied Maeby, bravely meeting his gaze.
“Why?” he asked her, still not smiling.
“Because it's important to you. And because I love you, and I'm sorry!” she wailed.
Her last words were muffled by George Michael's shirt, as he pulled her tightly to his chest.
“You know you're hugging a banana?” Maeby pointed out, sniffling. “This will probably hurt your campaign chances.”
“I don't care,” he said, kissing her. “I love you too, even if you want to take after your father and never take that banana suit off.
She laughed, and as he stared down at her beautiful, yellow-framed face he no longer had to wonder if he'd get the chance to kiss every one of her freckles.