Carole Ann issued an adorable prompt, and this was the first thing that came to mind. Bear with me; I was in a cutesy mood.
Polly's on Atkins
Elizabeth Webber had just stepped out of her shower when she heard the insistent rapping on her door. The brunette rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh and quickly wrapped a towel – tightly – around her tiny frame. She barely had time to run a comb through her dripping hair before the rapping turned to pounding.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" She swiped beads of water from her shoulders and off her collarbone as she ran for the door. "Hold on, I'll be right there!"
It was the middle of the afternoon on Thursday and she had absolutely no idea who would be coming over at a time like this. The only reason she herself was at home was because she had classes only in the morning and didn't have to work at the gallery today due to renovations. It was either a visitor that was at the wrong person's apartment, a mistaken delivery boy, or Elton Goldcliffe, her psychotic neighbor that had a habit of running naked down the halls at night screaming at the top of his lungs due to night terrors. Maybe he wanted to borrow her scrunchies again.
She heard the shrill caw of a bird outside her living room window but didn't pay much attention to it as she ran for the door and lunged for the knob.
"How can I help-"
All sound abandoned her when she saw who awaited her on the other side. Leaning against the doorjamb, his chiseled muscles bulging underneath his fitted t-shirt, was the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on – her neighbor, Jason Morgan.
"Jason! Hi!" A pretty little blush tainted her porcelain cheeks as Elizabeth clutched the towel between her breasts, feeling remarkably skittish under his twinkling gaze. The man honestly had no idea how beautiful he was. With dazzling cerulean orbs, silky golden hair that fell just at his eyes, and a body Adonis would kill for, it was a wonder that she hadn't already clawed through the thin walls that separated their apartments. "What brings you by?"
Jason's lips curled into an easy smile as he raked his gaze over the stunning brunette beauty before him. At five feet two inches, Elizabeth Webber barely came up to his chin. She was so tiny that he was fairly certain he could put his hands around her waist and make them touch – not that he had ever been brave enough to attempt that. And now she stood before him in nothing but a fuzzy blue towel that brought out those darling sapphire eyes of hers, and accentuated the pinkness of her smooth, creamy skin. Water droplets clung to her shoulders and the small amount of cleavage exposed above the cumbersome towel. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to rip the terrycloth off her soft, nymph-like body, spin her around against the closed door and just crush his body to hers. But, obviously, that was not an option.
Elizabeth's heart fluttered when he offered her an apologetic smile and a little shrug of those deliciously broad shoulders. "Polly got away – again."
His eyes danced when the young woman grinned, tucking her wet hair behind her delicate little ears. "Fourth time this week."
Jason just shrugged in reply. "She's a wanderer."
"And let me guess-" Those plush lips curled into a knowing smile. "She's on my railing."
He joined her with a chuckle. "Where else?"
Backing away with a wide grin, Elizabeth beckoned him in as she wrapped the towel more tightly around her body. Jason followed her and shut the door with the heel of his motorcycle boot, watching her feminine form sway back and forth with an easy, natural grace as the brunette made her way into her bedroom.
"You know, I thought I heard a bird squawk when I stepped out of the shower," she called over her shoulder as she pushed open her door. "I should have known."
Jason smirked and followed her into the room. A single bed lay in the corner, decked out with pale blue sheets and silk cushions piled at the headboard. On the other side of the room stood a tall, impressive and ornately carved armoire. Her behemoth of a dresser featured a wide vanity mirror and a wide array of nail polish bottles – all varying shades of crimson – as well as a collection of strangely shaped perfume bottles.
The pale carpet was soft under his feet as Jason followed her, skirting the bed and letting his fingers trail over the edge of her desk. A pile of books – Zumdahl's chemistry, Homer's Iliad, various works of Kierkegaard, and a clunky poetry anthology – was set precariously on the edge of the large wooden desk and he almost knocked it over as he followed her to her window.
"Lucky for you that I wasn't taking a bubble bath," she chirped, not noticing the way his intense eyes zeroed in on the gentle curve of her bottom as she bent to struggle with her stubborn window. Standing a foot behind her, Jason had to bite back a groan; the woman had absolutely no idea what that visual did to him. An image of her tiny body buried under a mountain of bubbles assaulted him and the tall mechanic shook his head briskly, chasing it away.
"I'm sorry to barge in like this," he got out, moving to help her raise the window when it proved to be stuck. "She just hopped out onto the railing and when I tried to grab her, she jumped onto yours."
Elizabeth helped him raise the window as high as it would go and stuck her head out. There was a little metal ledge – not a balcony – outside her window, and that was where Polly loved to hang out. "It's okay, Jason," she assured her neighbor. "It's not your fault."
Hell, anything was okay as long as it got him over to her place. Though she was less than thrilled to have been caught in her towel, she had to admit that it was a welcome surprise. She'd had a crush on Jason Morgan since she moved into Harborview Apartments two months ago, back when he had helped her carry her boxes up to her place without even knowing her name.
"There she is," the brunette crowed, narrowing her eyes on the colorful bird. Polly was a red and blue parrot that belonged to Jason's grandmother. The woman was traveling to England for three weeks with his grandfather, and needed someone to watch her darling pet. Naturally, her favorite grandson was first on her list. And something told Elizabeth that Jason Morgan could never turn down his dear old grandmother.
"Stupid bird," the mechanic muttered, following suit and squeezing his broad shoulders into her window frame. It was a tight fit, and his thick, muscular arm pressed up against her slender, wet one. Elizabeth gasped softly at the contact but quickly snapped her mouth shut, concentrating on the bird.
"Here, Polly! Here, girl!" The bird cocked its head at her. "Polly wanna cracker?"
"Polly on Atkins! Polly on Atkins! Squawk!"
Jason shook his head and glared at the grinning brunette. "I hate you for teaching her that."
Elizabeth just laughed, and the sound warmed something deep inside of him. "Pardon me for helping her broaden her vocabulary."
"But did you have to teach her the first verse of the Iliad in Latin?" her neighbor asked, exasperated, as he glared daggers at the bird, which was clearly enjoying this.
"Arma virumque cano! Squawk! Jason! Arma virumque cano!" the infernal creature squawked right on cue, making Elizabeth giggle.
"I hope it flies into a ceiling fan," Jason muttered, squirming in the tight spot and reaching out one muscular arm. "Get over here, you damn bird."
"Squawk! Don't worry, be happy! Don't worry, be happy! Rawwwwk!"
Elizabeth laughed, a warm, bubbly sound, and reached out for Jason's hand. "Jason, be nice to her," she scolded playfully, not noticing the way his eyes turned a shade darker. "Here, Polly, come here, girl!"
The bird bobbed its head and did a little dance on the metal railing, prompting Jason to quirk a brow at the half-naked brunette next to him. "Yeah, that worked."
She frowned at him, letting that plump bottom lip jut out just so, and Jason found her absolutely adorable. "Here, Polly! Polly!"
The bird continued dancing in the sunlight as Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. Its feathers were pinioned, meaning there wasn't much danger of her flying away altogether. As it was, the bird could only hop short distances, which was what enabled her to make it from Jason's railing to her own.
With a sigh, the brunette dropped her elbows to the windowsill and tucked her chin into her palm, just watching the creature. Jason shifted, trying to get his shoulder out of an uncomfortable position and leaned so close to her that his cheek grazed her temple. Elizabeth stiffened but lingered, a movement not lost on the tall mechanic.
"She's never going to get back in here."
"She'll get tired," the brunette informed him confidently. "Besides, there's nowhere else for her to jump to."
"Except the dumpster."
"Jason!"
"What?" he asked defensively. "I hate that damn bird."
"Well, maybe if you kept your windows closed, this wouldn't happen."
He bit his tongue to keep from replying to that. Instead, he shrugged and answered, "Yeah, but I hate seeing it trapped in its cage all the time."
The brunette nodded wisely, her solemn sapphire eyes trained on the bird as it hopped and bobbed. "I know what you mean." Jason watched her tilt her head slowly. "I want that."
"What do you mean?"
"That," she answered simply, jutting her chin out at the dancing bird. "Look at her. She's free."
"How free is she?" Jason countered, quirking a brow at her. "She can't fly anywhere; her wings are cut."
"I know," Elizabeth answered softly. "You're right – forget it, it was a silly thought."
"No, no, I didn't mean it like that," he backpedaled, clasping his hands together in front of him. A brief moment passed in which he just watched her, really let himself see her. "Why aren't you like her?"
"Hm?"
His voice dropped an octave, its deep timbre resonating through her body when he spoke. "Why aren't you free?"
The corner of her mouth quirked up humorlessly. It was really too long of a story to retell. "You know why." He nodded once, dipping his head. "School, family, friends. Having to do things because I'm expected to; being looked down on for doing what I want to do just because it's not somehow related to the field of medicine." She quirked a smile at Polly. "I want to be like her."
Jason nudged her gently with his shoulder, grinning. "You mean, dancing on a railing? I'm not gonna lie – I'd pay to see that."
She giggled and shoved him back, causing him to groan playfully. "Stop causing trouble, Morgan."
"Hey, you're the one that wants to-"
"I'm warning you," she informed him, turning those glittering sapphire orbs on him. "One more word and I'll fix you with my withering stare."
"Withering stare, huh?" he repeated, unable to contain a smirk. "I'm scared just thinking about it."
"You should be," she snipped, turning her nose in the air. "It's a terrible sight to behold."
He leaned closer, letting his breath whisper over her cheek. "Show me."
Elizabeth blushed and tried to sound composed and not as if her heart was ramming itself against her ribcage. "No, I can't – I might hurt you."
Jason just shook his head, still smirking at her. "Really?" He could see her stiffen at the incredulity in his voice. "I'd like to see you try."
She looked at him coolly, tipping her chin in the air. "Maybe I will."
One sandy eyebrow lifted in silent challenge – oh, he'd love to hold her to that one. Elizabeth was looking him straight in the eye but wasn't prepared for the intensity of his gaze. Two rows of perfect teeth captured her plump bottom lip, worrying it, as the brunette fidgeted in the cramped space. Flustered now by the heated look in his eyes, Elizabeth once more turned her attention to Polly.
"Okay, tell you what," she got out, frowning at the obstinate bird. "You spot me, and I'll try to grab her." Without further preamble, Elizabeth squeezed and shimmied her way further out of her window until her knees rested on the broad sill. She tried not to gasp when Jason's broad hands spanned her waist, supporting her, and failed miserably. Wanting to kick herself, Elizabeth simply gritted her teeth and reached an arm out toward the parrot.
"Here, Polly! Just c'mere, girl…"
Not caring less about her precarious position, the bird cawed and had the audacity to hop back onto Jason's railing a few feet away. "It was the one-armed man! One-armed man!"
"That's it," Jason growled, gripping Elizabeth tighter when she yelped. "That's the last time I leave the television on to keep her company."
"Help me out of here," the wriggling brunette in his arms squeaked, doing her best to hang on to the sill. Her towel began to slip slightly, and Jason quickly scooped her into his arms so she could grab it before it gave way. The brunette was blushing furiously, cradled firmly against his hard chest, as Jason stepped fully back into her bedroom. Slowly, tenderly, he set her down on her bed and backed away.
"I…better get her," he got out, gesturing lamely toward the wall that separated her bedroom from his.
Elizabeth nodded jerkily, tugging her towel up higher. "Go ahead," she murmured, tossing her damp locks back. "I'll come over to help in a minute."
Jason nodded and backed out of her bedroom, quickly sprinting into his own. Minutes later, Elizabeth knocked on his door, prompting him to look away from the infuriating harpy on his railing and almost bang his head against the window frame. The brunette was dressed in a short blue silk robe that she had tied tightly at her waist with a sash, she padded barefoot around Jason's queen-sized bed.
His mouth had long since dried up at the vision of Elizabeth Webber in his bedroom, inches from his bed, no less, and Jason could only gape at her as she made her way over to him. Snapping his mouth shut, the suddenly flustered mechanic searched for something to say.
"I got her some Cheerios," he explained lamely, gesturing to the cereal on his sill. "She likes those."
"Good thinking," the brunette murmured, her gaze lingering on his lips. They'd been through this routine before – Polly would escape, roost on her railing, and she and Jason would cram themselves in to the window frame and spend the better part of an hour coaxing the little feathered diva back inside. Clustered together in such close quarters, it was difficult for her not to notice certain things about Jason Morgan. Her neighbor of two months had, for example, the most impossibly blue eyes she had ever seen. His hair was silky and he always smelled of Irish spring soap and leather, an unbeatable combination. Even though he was a mechanic, he kept his work-roughened hands as clean as he possibly could – and boy, what hands they were! His body was strong and broad and hard – and one that she certainly wouldn't mind exploring. And during each and every one of their rescue missions, that strong, broad, hard body was so close to hers that Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder when the man would give in and kiss her.
He was watching her as she crept closer, wringing those small hands of hers. He had to admit openly that these escapes were a rather convenient way of getting to be close to her. When she had first moved in, he had wanted to get to know her immediately. But when he saw the guy that always lurked around her – a squirrelly blonde kid with boy-band highlights and a persistent whine so high that dogs in China could hear it – he had backed off. If she had a boyfriend, he'd respect that.
But obviously, there was trouble in Paradise because about two weeks ago, he had heard them arguing in the hall and Elizabeth had sent her cheating louse of a boyfriend away after ripping him a new one. And so slowly, he had worked up the nerve to insinuate himself into her life on a more regular way – and Polly had proved to be quite a help.
It was amazing how much he learned about Elizabeth Webber as they spent the afternoons crammed into her window frame, calling out to a stupid bird. She was the youngest child in her family, the self-described black sheep. Her parents and siblings were all doctors, graduated from the finest medical schools in the nation, while she was a struggling artist that made ends meet by managing a gallery three blocks away from her apartment. She loved to paint but also dabbled in sculpture and pottery; her favorite color was dark red; she was too short to even own a single pair of flats; and she had an aversion to shrimp and penny pasta to this day due to a bad case of food poisoning when she was six.
It was almost unlikely; the two of them. And yet somehow, they clicked. He couldn't begin to describe what he felt when he was with her, but he was willing to bet she felt the same. The woman wasn't as unaffected as she liked to pretend; he'd seen the way she reacted when he dared to get close.
But something kept them apart. Quiet reservations, uncertainty, or just plain stupidity. He didn't know and he didn't care; all he cared about was ending the games they seemed to be playing so well.
"Look – she's moving closer!" Elizabeth's yelp jarred him from his thoughts and Jason whipped around to see the devil bird dancing its way within reach. But just as he reached for her, she fluttered her wings and hopped gracefully back.
"Damn it!" he cursed, glaring murderously at the oblivious creature. "Oh, you know she's a Quartermaine, alright."
Elizabeth giggled at the mention of his family. "Not ready to come back in, huh, Polly?"
"Brauk! Don't worry! Be happy! Au-awk!"
"Yeah, I figured," she smirked, watching Jason shake his head. Letting out a slow breath that she didn't know she had been holding, Elizabeth eased her way forward until she was next to him, and then lowered her body slowly onto the windowsill. They sat facing each other, stealing pensive glances at the disobedient bird.
"Stubborn thing," the brunette muttered. "Wonder where she gets it from."
Jason quirked an eyebrow at the teasing lilt in her voice. "Hey, she spends most her time on your railing, Elizabeth."
The young woman smirked boldly, tossing her dark locks back over her shoulder. "Maybe you should make sure you close your windows, Morgan."
A nervous but outwardly cocky smile ran across his lips, and Jason leaned forward a fraction of an inch. "Maybe I leave them open on purpose."
Those slender brows furrowed as Elizabeth stared at him, trying to make sense of that last remark. "M-Maybe you should watch her and make sure she doesn't escape onto my railing."
He eased closer still, crowding her, and she could feel his breath flutter against her lips. The tip of her pink tongue escaped her mouth to swipe over the pink flesh, and she watched his arresting blue eyes follow its movement. "Maybe I like having an excuse to come over."
Her heart was racing and Elizabeth blinked quickly, trying to figure out if his words were the product of her overactive imagination. But there he was, staring at her as if he wanted to devour her whole, his mouth just a scant distance from hers. "M-Maybe-" Oh, screw it. "Maybe you should shut up and-"
Her next words never made it past her lips as Jason closed the remaining distance between them, crushing his mouth to hers. She didn't waste time being surprised; one small hand curved up his shoulder and grasped his neck, and her thumb swept through the silky hair at his nape. Jason's mouth moved firmly against hers, capturing her bottom lip between his, and he was about to let his tongue slither into her sweet mouth when a shrill voice interrupted them.
"Do a little dance! Braw-auk! Make a little love! Get down tonight! Squawk-brauk!"
Polly's cackling – yet another reason for him to turn off the radio when he left her alone in the apartment – had the two of them flying apart like shrapnel, and two sets of wide blue eyes fell on the mischievous bird.
Elizabeth licked her lips, tasting him there, and nervously cleared her throat. Uncertainty was quick to settle in with the departure of his mouth, but Jason didn't let her tarry there. He grabbed her tiny hand in his and pulled her up to stand with him. Glaring at the rainbow-colored harpy, he slammed the window down and effectively shut the bird outside. Letting out a satisfied grunt, he turned his attention back to her.
Elizabeth let out a soft gasp when his strong arms snaked around her waist, sending her crashing against his tall form. His mouth was waiting to catch her, and those skilled lips probed hers with unmatched tenderness and need at the same time. Letting out a soft moan, Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth, inviting him in. Jason drank her in, savoring her taste, and they were so lost in each other that they barely heard the tapping of Polly's beak on the glass windowpane.
Confused, Elizabeth pulled back from Jason long enough to see where the noise was coming from. Sure enough, there was the infernal bird, begging to be let in.
"Unbelievable," Jason growled, reaching out with one arm to push the window up. The bird scuttled onto the sill, grabbed a few Cheerios in its beak, and hopped down to the floor. The sandy-haired mechanic scowled at it as it shuffled off, cawing quietly until it left the room, no doubt in search of one of his boots to take a dump in.
Elizabeth let out a rusty chuckle and rested her forehead against his chin. "Jason?"
His breath rustled through her damp hair, his hands still settled possessively at the small of her back. "Yeah?"
"Leave your windows open more often."
The End.