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Title: Courtship, Kinda
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Dead Like Me
Pairing: Rube/George
Rating: PG
Summary: Discussions of borrowings, terminology, and an abuse of eggs.
Dis: Not mine.
Author’s Notes: The first part of this fic was written for
impulsedriven. The second part was written because I didn’t feel like it was done. And, as always, this little beauty is for the seven other fans out there. We rock.
Courtship, Kinda
By Perpetual Motion
“George, could I borrow a minute of your time?”
George’s eyebrows shot up. Her’s weren’t the only ones. Roxy’s were going north pretty fast as well. Mason was too busy flirting with Daisy to put his eyebrows to work. Daisy wasn’t listening because it wasn’t about her. “You want to *borrow* a minute of my time?” George’s eyebrows dropped so that they could furrow.
“Yes.” Rube took a bite of his eggs like nothing strange was happening.
“Since when you do *ask*?” George crossed her arms. “You *order*. You don’t *ask*.”
“I *order* when I need you to work. I *ask* when I need a personal favor.”
“So, this is about a favor?”
Rube shook his head. “Not exactly.” He looked away from George for a moment to look at Roxy, Mason, and Daisy. “Souls. Take. Now.” They left the restaurant, and Rube looked back at George. “Now, for that minute I requested-“
“You don’t request-“ George was cut off when Rube shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth. “…the hell?”
“I *order* for work. I *request* for personal time.” Rube held up another forkful of eggs. “It’s calling ‘courting’, or it used to be called ‘courting’.” Rube couldn’t help but grin at the slightly dumbfounded expression on George’s face. “You might want to swallow.” She did.
“Since when are we…who uses a word like…what the hell is going on?” George shook her head, obviously trying to clear up her thoughts. “I thought we were just having sex, you know, screwing around -- which, by the way, is what people call it nowadays.”
“That’s just crude.” Rube gathered some more eggs onto his fork, but he ate them instead of trying to feed them to George. He was worried that in the state of shock she seemed to be in that she might choke. “Whatever happened to terms like ‘dating’ or ‘romancing’?”
“The twenty-first century.” George started inching her way out of the booth. “Look, I think it’s just *swell* that you want to court me or date me or whatever, but it’s really fuckin’ early, and I have to go help kill a guy, so could we deal with this later?”
“Sure. I’ll just borrow some of your time after lunch.”
George shook her head. “And quite ‘borrowing’ my time. That’s just a weird concept, coming from you.” She rolled her eyes in Rube’s direction and hurried out of Der Waffle Haus.
Rube gave his eggs a satisfied smirk as he speared them again.
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Dead Like Me
Pairing: Rube/George
Rating: PG
Summary: Discussions of borrowings, terminology, and an abuse of eggs.
Dis: Not mine.
Author’s Notes: The first part of this fic was written for
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Courtship, Kinda
By Perpetual Motion
“George, could I borrow a minute of your time?”
George’s eyebrows shot up. Her’s weren’t the only ones. Roxy’s were going north pretty fast as well. Mason was too busy flirting with Daisy to put his eyebrows to work. Daisy wasn’t listening because it wasn’t about her. “You want to *borrow* a minute of my time?” George’s eyebrows dropped so that they could furrow.
“Yes.” Rube took a bite of his eggs like nothing strange was happening.
“Since when you do *ask*?” George crossed her arms. “You *order*. You don’t *ask*.”
“I *order* when I need you to work. I *ask* when I need a personal favor.”
“So, this is about a favor?”
Rube shook his head. “Not exactly.” He looked away from George for a moment to look at Roxy, Mason, and Daisy. “Souls. Take. Now.” They left the restaurant, and Rube looked back at George. “Now, for that minute I requested-“
“You don’t request-“ George was cut off when Rube shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth. “…the hell?”
“I *order* for work. I *request* for personal time.” Rube held up another forkful of eggs. “It’s calling ‘courting’, or it used to be called ‘courting’.” Rube couldn’t help but grin at the slightly dumbfounded expression on George’s face. “You might want to swallow.” She did.
“Since when are we…who uses a word like…what the hell is going on?” George shook her head, obviously trying to clear up her thoughts. “I thought we were just having sex, you know, screwing around -- which, by the way, is what people call it nowadays.”
“That’s just crude.” Rube gathered some more eggs onto his fork, but he ate them instead of trying to feed them to George. He was worried that in the state of shock she seemed to be in that she might choke. “Whatever happened to terms like ‘dating’ or ‘romancing’?”
“The twenty-first century.” George started inching her way out of the booth. “Look, I think it’s just *swell* that you want to court me or date me or whatever, but it’s really fuckin’ early, and I have to go help kill a guy, so could we deal with this later?”
“Sure. I’ll just borrow some of your time after lunch.”
George shook her head. “And quite ‘borrowing’ my time. That’s just a weird concept, coming from you.” She rolled her eyes in Rube’s direction and hurried out of Der Waffle Haus.
Rube gave his eggs a satisfied smirk as he speared them again.
no subject
on 2005-08-07 01:53 am (UTC)no subject
on 2005-08-07 07:02 pm (UTC)Sigh.
And, also: I love you. Very cute, and I can just picture the whole thing taking place.
Kisses...
no subject
on 2005-08-07 09:40 pm (UTC)