Booze, Dirt and a Sliver of Pecan Pie
Title: Booze, Dirt and a Sliver of Pecan Pie.
Fandom: Dead Like Me.
Characters: George/Mason, mentions of Mason/Daisy and all the other normal repears make an appearance.
Rating: R for language.
Word Count: 1,424.
Spoilers: Some for Last Call and Always.
Summary: It wasn't just a little crush. He wasn't what you usually thought of as extremely hot, he wasn't kind, he was usually really selfish and he wasn't very funny, but you loved him.
Author's Note/Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nadda. Zip, zero. Goose egg. This is my first Dead Like Me fanfic, and it's fairly angsty.
He told you he loved you and you looked at him like he was crazy, as if he'd grown three heads. He'd kissed you too which just added to the idea of him being on drugs or drunk again, as if he was ever sober around you. You thought about it the rest of the day at Happy Times, staring at your screen, pretending to work. You thought about it that entire night, lying awake in your bed and staring at the ceilings, listening to the sounds of the night. You thought about it that next morning at breakfast when he showed up looking like shit, which wasn't that strange, and saying that he had no place to go. You said it was no problem. He could stay with you for as long as he needed. Just after walking out the door of Der Waffle Haus, it hit you: you loved Mason, too.
It wasn't just a little crush. He wasn't what you usually thought of as extremely hot, he wasn't kind, he was usually really selfish and he wasn't very funny, but you loved him. And those three words followed by that kiss meant the world to you. In some fucked up way, you loved Mason, and now you weren't sure what to do. You couldn't tell him, because he didn't love you like that, but what if he did? What if he meant it that way when he said that? What if he was telling you that because that was how he really felt and he didn't want to lose the chance to let you know? What if he had really gotten over stupid, pretty little Daisy and he loved you now?
The day after Mason's first night at the house, when you still couldn't sleep because you can't stop thinking about him, you decide to talk to Rube. You get to Der Waffle Haus early, but Roxy's already there in your regular booth, sipping a cup of coffee and you mutter a few choice words under your breath. She looks up at you, nods and goes back to reading the paper she has spread out in front of her. A few minutes later, after ordering your coffee, Mason crashes into the booth beside you, followed by Daisy. Rube's late, and you can't stop checking your watch. "Why do you keep looking at the bloody watch?" Mason asks, elbowing you slightly. You shove him back, almost sending him crashing into Rube. The look he gives you is less than friendly and you decide, right then and there, that you should wait until later in the evening.
As you stand outside Der Waffle Haus, staring at the front door, it hits you that this is where you spend 90 percent of your life. Or afterlife. Whatever the fuck it's called. And you begin to imagine other reapers sitting around the country, each group in their own places just like Der Waffle Haus, eating the same thing every day. You get lost for a moment before someone opens the door and hits your foot and you cuss, glaring at the guys who seem to stumble outside. Is everyone a fucking drunk these days?
You walk inside, spotting Rube up at the bar alone, but you still hesitate. You're still not sure you want to go through with this, if you really want to be transferred to another place. Besides, you don't even have a good excuse. But being around Mason is hard, it’s too much to deal with and you're not sure if you can handle it anymore. Not after Trip, not after Daisy's problems with Ray. You're beginning to think that it would be easier to start fresh with people you don't know, not make any personal connections. You could be better off by yourself, just grabbing the post it or whatever the fuck other reaper-leaders use and running. Doing the reap, doing your day job, going home to an empty apartment. It sounds lonely, but maybe lonely is what you need.
“Evening, Peanut,” Rube says as you sit down. He’s playing with the fork he used to eat the half slice of pie he’d ordered earlier, before you even got there. Kiffany shows up and you give her a small smile as she asks what she can get you. Before you have a chance to reply, Rube speaks up, “A sliver of pecan pie.” He turns his head and looks at you, can tell something’s wrong, and his brow furrows in that signature way of his. You can feel yourself breaking apart beneath his gaze and you look away, busying yourself with organizing the sugar packets. “Rough day?”
You shrug a little, still not sure if you can trust your voice. You’re afraid of opening your mouth and every fucking thought rushing past your lips, unedited and completely embarrassing. Can you really tell Rube that you want transferred because you’re in love with a fuck up like Mason? “I guess,” you say finally, your eyes and fingers still focused on the sugar packets when Kiffany appears with your pie. “Thanks,” you say, looking up at her for a moment before picking up your fork.
“What happened today?” Now Rube’s turned his stool to face you completely, his gaze heavy and worried. Though, behind the worry, you detect a small sense of agitation and disappointment. Which honestly doesn’t surprise you; every time you’ve been like this, it had to do with your family.
Letting out a heavy sigh you push the pie plate away and raise your eyes to his. Instantly you regret it and you look away, finally certain that you can’t do this. “I think,” you pause, your eyes looking over a couple that’s sitting a few tables away from the bar. Sickening, really. You look at Rube again. “I think I need to be transferred.”
His brow furrows more, the creases growing deeper and he leans forward some. “Why’s that? Are you not happy here with us anymore?”
You shake your head somewhat, playing with the ring that Betty gave you, trying to find some sense of strength through her. “It’s not that, exactly,” you say. Maybe you could play this off as a ‘This is my hometown and I can’t stand haunting it anymore’ kind of thing, or ‘My family’s moved on and it’s too hard to watch’. But you know Rube won’t go for the second one, so you’re not sure what to say. “I just… I think I need a change of scenery.”
“Transfers are only made when someone needs to get out of the town they’ve been in. If something goes wrong there, or if another place is in desperate need for another reaper. We can’t go around changing everything up, Peanut,” he says, standing up and pulling his wallet from his pocket. You know that means the conversation’s over, and you can’t help but feel a sinking dread fill your stomach. “It messes with the universe too much. Enjoy your pie.” He nods toward the plate, pats your shoulder and then walks out of the restaurant.
You’re sitting there staring at the pie and the five dollars Rube left when Mason comes in, slides into the seat beside you and drums his fingers against the wood. You take in a breath and dare a look his way and you almost fall out of your seat when you see him looking right back at you. “Georgie,” he says, smiling his stupid, crooked, goofy smile at you. Your heart flutters.
“Mason,” you say, picking up your fork and poking at the pie with it. Should you say something? Should you turn around, grab his ratty old jacket and kiss him? Before you have a chance, he turns to you with an excitement that’s practically tangible and you can’t help but look at him.
“I think I stand a chance with Daisy again,” he says and he starts rambling on about the reap they went on together just a few hours ago and how she looked at him with a certain kind of longing and all this other bullshit that you really don’t want to listen to. But, since he’s your friend, you sit and listen, trying to discourage his feelings without hurting him. Honestly, Daisy? She doesn’t see what a wonderful guy there is beneath the booze and dirt. But you don’t say anything, you just sit and listen and try to convince him that she doesn’t love him, even though he won’t listen.
He never does.
Fandom: Dead Like Me.
Characters: George/Mason, mentions of Mason/Daisy and all the other normal repears make an appearance.
Rating: R for language.
Word Count: 1,424.
Spoilers: Some for Last Call and Always.
Summary: It wasn't just a little crush. He wasn't what you usually thought of as extremely hot, he wasn't kind, he was usually really selfish and he wasn't very funny, but you loved him.
Author's Note/Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nadda. Zip, zero. Goose egg. This is my first Dead Like Me fanfic, and it's fairly angsty.
He told you he loved you and you looked at him like he was crazy, as if he'd grown three heads. He'd kissed you too which just added to the idea of him being on drugs or drunk again, as if he was ever sober around you. You thought about it the rest of the day at Happy Times, staring at your screen, pretending to work. You thought about it that entire night, lying awake in your bed and staring at the ceilings, listening to the sounds of the night. You thought about it that next morning at breakfast when he showed up looking like shit, which wasn't that strange, and saying that he had no place to go. You said it was no problem. He could stay with you for as long as he needed. Just after walking out the door of Der Waffle Haus, it hit you: you loved Mason, too.
It wasn't just a little crush. He wasn't what you usually thought of as extremely hot, he wasn't kind, he was usually really selfish and he wasn't very funny, but you loved him. And those three words followed by that kiss meant the world to you. In some fucked up way, you loved Mason, and now you weren't sure what to do. You couldn't tell him, because he didn't love you like that, but what if he did? What if he meant it that way when he said that? What if he was telling you that because that was how he really felt and he didn't want to lose the chance to let you know? What if he had really gotten over stupid, pretty little Daisy and he loved you now?
The day after Mason's first night at the house, when you still couldn't sleep because you can't stop thinking about him, you decide to talk to Rube. You get to Der Waffle Haus early, but Roxy's already there in your regular booth, sipping a cup of coffee and you mutter a few choice words under your breath. She looks up at you, nods and goes back to reading the paper she has spread out in front of her. A few minutes later, after ordering your coffee, Mason crashes into the booth beside you, followed by Daisy. Rube's late, and you can't stop checking your watch. "Why do you keep looking at the bloody watch?" Mason asks, elbowing you slightly. You shove him back, almost sending him crashing into Rube. The look he gives you is less than friendly and you decide, right then and there, that you should wait until later in the evening.
As you stand outside Der Waffle Haus, staring at the front door, it hits you that this is where you spend 90 percent of your life. Or afterlife. Whatever the fuck it's called. And you begin to imagine other reapers sitting around the country, each group in their own places just like Der Waffle Haus, eating the same thing every day. You get lost for a moment before someone opens the door and hits your foot and you cuss, glaring at the guys who seem to stumble outside. Is everyone a fucking drunk these days?
You walk inside, spotting Rube up at the bar alone, but you still hesitate. You're still not sure you want to go through with this, if you really want to be transferred to another place. Besides, you don't even have a good excuse. But being around Mason is hard, it’s too much to deal with and you're not sure if you can handle it anymore. Not after Trip, not after Daisy's problems with Ray. You're beginning to think that it would be easier to start fresh with people you don't know, not make any personal connections. You could be better off by yourself, just grabbing the post it or whatever the fuck other reaper-leaders use and running. Doing the reap, doing your day job, going home to an empty apartment. It sounds lonely, but maybe lonely is what you need.
“Evening, Peanut,” Rube says as you sit down. He’s playing with the fork he used to eat the half slice of pie he’d ordered earlier, before you even got there. Kiffany shows up and you give her a small smile as she asks what she can get you. Before you have a chance to reply, Rube speaks up, “A sliver of pecan pie.” He turns his head and looks at you, can tell something’s wrong, and his brow furrows in that signature way of his. You can feel yourself breaking apart beneath his gaze and you look away, busying yourself with organizing the sugar packets. “Rough day?”
You shrug a little, still not sure if you can trust your voice. You’re afraid of opening your mouth and every fucking thought rushing past your lips, unedited and completely embarrassing. Can you really tell Rube that you want transferred because you’re in love with a fuck up like Mason? “I guess,” you say finally, your eyes and fingers still focused on the sugar packets when Kiffany appears with your pie. “Thanks,” you say, looking up at her for a moment before picking up your fork.
“What happened today?” Now Rube’s turned his stool to face you completely, his gaze heavy and worried. Though, behind the worry, you detect a small sense of agitation and disappointment. Which honestly doesn’t surprise you; every time you’ve been like this, it had to do with your family.
Letting out a heavy sigh you push the pie plate away and raise your eyes to his. Instantly you regret it and you look away, finally certain that you can’t do this. “I think,” you pause, your eyes looking over a couple that’s sitting a few tables away from the bar. Sickening, really. You look at Rube again. “I think I need to be transferred.”
His brow furrows more, the creases growing deeper and he leans forward some. “Why’s that? Are you not happy here with us anymore?”
You shake your head somewhat, playing with the ring that Betty gave you, trying to find some sense of strength through her. “It’s not that, exactly,” you say. Maybe you could play this off as a ‘This is my hometown and I can’t stand haunting it anymore’ kind of thing, or ‘My family’s moved on and it’s too hard to watch’. But you know Rube won’t go for the second one, so you’re not sure what to say. “I just… I think I need a change of scenery.”
“Transfers are only made when someone needs to get out of the town they’ve been in. If something goes wrong there, or if another place is in desperate need for another reaper. We can’t go around changing everything up, Peanut,” he says, standing up and pulling his wallet from his pocket. You know that means the conversation’s over, and you can’t help but feel a sinking dread fill your stomach. “It messes with the universe too much. Enjoy your pie.” He nods toward the plate, pats your shoulder and then walks out of the restaurant.
You’re sitting there staring at the pie and the five dollars Rube left when Mason comes in, slides into the seat beside you and drums his fingers against the wood. You take in a breath and dare a look his way and you almost fall out of your seat when you see him looking right back at you. “Georgie,” he says, smiling his stupid, crooked, goofy smile at you. Your heart flutters.
“Mason,” you say, picking up your fork and poking at the pie with it. Should you say something? Should you turn around, grab his ratty old jacket and kiss him? Before you have a chance, he turns to you with an excitement that’s practically tangible and you can’t help but look at him.
“I think I stand a chance with Daisy again,” he says and he starts rambling on about the reap they went on together just a few hours ago and how she looked at him with a certain kind of longing and all this other bullshit that you really don’t want to listen to. But, since he’s your friend, you sit and listen, trying to discourage his feelings without hurting him. Honestly, Daisy? She doesn’t see what a wonderful guy there is beneath the booze and dirt. But you don’t say anything, you just sit and listen and try to convince him that she doesn’t love him, even though he won’t listen.
He never does.