A/N: This is my first attept at an Arrested Development fic. I just finished binging on all three seasons, and I just loved the relationship between George Michael and Maeby. This fic is set towards the end of Season 3, and it gives a slightly different spin on things. Keeping in style with the show, I wrote in a bit of narration, which is indicated by the italic type. Hope you enjoy!
George Michael Bluth was a very conflicted young man. It was his cousin Maeby's surprise birthday party, but the not-so-big surprise was that he was the only guest to show up. So now he found himself alone with his cousin…who was bound and determined to follow in her family's footsteps and drink away her problems. However, this was proving to be a bigger challenge than Maeby had anticipated, and George Michael didn't know whether he should do the responsible thing and stop his cousin or loosen up for once and have some fun.
"I don't know if we should be doing this, Maeby. This wine tastes kind of weird, and I don't feel buzzed at all."
There was a reason for that. The wine wasn't wine at all, but a stage prop for one of his uncle Gob's 'illusions'. It would never make them drunk, but if they consumed enough of it, they would likely experience one of the other notable side effects of alcohol.
Maeby grimaced and poured her glass down the kitchen sink. "Yeah, this stuff doesn't taste right at all. Maybe it hasn't sat out long enough to turn alcoholic."
George Michael tried to suppress a grimace of his own. "You know…I wouldn't believe everything Gangee tells you about alcohol. Wine doesn't…"
"Gangee's alcohol! That's just what we need. I'm sure I remember her hiding a bottle of vodka somewhere around here. If we're lucky, it won't have spoiled yet!"
"Vodka is mostly alcohol. They use alcohol to preserve things. I don't think it can sp…."
"Ha! I found a bottle…it was tucked away under the sink. I knew there was no way she was actually putting away cleaning supplies."
George Michael grabbed the bottle from his cousin to make sure that it wasn't actually some form of cleaning product. By the time he had verified that it was indeed vodka…and theoretically safe to consume…his cousin had pulled two fresh glasses from the table.
"Now we can really get this party started!" Maeby exclaimed as she poured them each a rather large glass of vodka.
George Michael tentatively sniffed his glass and gave his cousin a dubious look. "This stuff smells a lot stronger than the wine. Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"What…don't you trust your wife?" Maeby teased, winking at her cousin.
George Michael got a panicked look on his face and instinctively took a large swallow of his drink…and immediately began coughing violently.
Maeby giggled and hoisted her cup. "Guess I'll have to show you how it's done."
She took a rather large mouthful of her own drink, and as her eyes started to water and her face turned red, she coughed out, "See…it's not so bad."
The two cousins continued to take swigs of their vodka, each one determined to prove to the other that they were grown up and could handle their liquor. Of course, they weren't and they couldn't.
"I see why Gangee likes this stuff so much," George Michael said with a slurred voice as he wobbled on over to the couch and flopped down. "I feel so…so…relaxed. Nothing to worry about…no family here to make a mess of things."
Maeby, emboldened by the vodka running through her system, swayed on over to the couch and straddled George Michael. "You know, I'm here, and technically I'm family. But making a mess of things can be fun sometimes," she said as she leaned in to give him a kiss.
George Michael kissed her back and then began to laugh joyously. "See…that's the great thing…I was talking to Gangee, and she told me you're not really family. Something about your mom paying tons of money to have you made in a lab."
Maeby paused in her advances on George Michael and looked rather grave. "So, you're telling me I'm some sort of weird test tube baby?"
George Michael looked stricken with worry over the potential damage his revelation might have caused, but as he opened his mouth to apologize, his (not-blood-related) cousin gave him another kiss. "You're telling me I'm not actually related to this dysfunctional nightmare of a family? That's the best news I've heard…ever! George Michael, you sure do know how to treat a girl right on her birthday."
George Michael kissed Maeby again and teasingly said, "Nothing but the best for my wife."
"You know…just because we signed a marriage license doesn't mean we're really married…even if you did get it framed."
Actually, it does.
"You…you noticed that?" George Michael stammered, his face turning red.
"You kind of sleep with it like a teddy bear. Given that we share a room and all, it's a bit hard to miss."
"Well, we had the license signed by a priest and witnesses. And since we're not really blood related, the marriage is technically legal. I…I looked it up, you see…just out of curiosity."
"But still, it won't be set in stone until we…seal the deal, if you know what I mean." Maeby said with a wink.
George Michael did know what she meant, and he found the idea to be both terrifying and wonderful. Now, if George Michael had been sober, he could have made a list, complete with bullet points, detailing why it would not be a good idea to consummate his marriage to his cousin. Because George Michael was truly sensible at heart. As a matter of fact, he was perhaps the only person in the Bluth family about whom that could be said. However, his sensible nature had been drowned in an unhealthy amount of vodka (something that could be said about quite a few members of the Bluth family), and instead of voicing all of the various reasons why 'sealing the deal' was a bad idea, George Michael only managed to make a few squeaks of protest as his wife led him to their shared bedroom.
10 minutes later…
"Wow…that was the best 10 minutes of my entire life!" George Michael said as he collapsed into a breathless heap next to Maeby.
"Yeah…that was…well, I'm sure you'll get better with practice," Maeby replied, patting him on the shoulder.
"You…you want to keep practicing?" George Michael asked hopefully.
She didn't, but George Michael looked so happy and eager to please, she couldn't turn him down.
"Of course I do," she lied with a smile on her face. It was a skill she had picked up over the years from the rest of her 'family'.
As all men in the Bluth family, George Michael was a slow learner when it came to women. However, Maeby was being uncharacteristically patient, and George Michael was filled with the enthusiasm of a man finally achieving his fondest dream. Maeby discovered that George Michael did get better with practice, and by the end of the night, he finally managed to touch Maeby in that one special spot that makes every girl melt.
George Michael looked deep into Maeby's eyes and tenderly stroked her hair. He glanced over to the bedside table where he had placed their marriage license, and Maeby turned her head to follow his gaze. "You…you want to know why I got it framed?" he asked tentatively. "Because, no matter what anyone else tells us, this marriage is special…youare special, and I love you so much."
Maeby dug her nails into George Michael's shoulders as the muscles in her body tightened and goose bumps covered her skin. She pressed closer to her husband and kissed him gently. George Michael had finally managed to touch that spot deep inside that made her whole body quiver. That spot was, of course, her heart.
"I love you too, George Michael," she whispered as she collapsed into a breathless heap on his chest.
Satisfied that he had finally pleased his wife, George Michael cradled her close, and the two drifted off into blissful slumber.
The next morning…
George Michael and Maeby awoke to the sounds of shouting downstairs. This was not an uncommon occurrence in the Bluth residence. However, the children feared that their parents might have figured out what was going on between them, and they rushed to put on some clothes. It turns out, this fear was not entirely unjustified.
"You have to be the worst parents in existence," Lucille shouted as she gulped her third vodka martini of the morning. She would have been on at least her fourth, but she was trying to conserve what was left of the bottle since it seemed that someone had been dipping into her 'emergency stash'.
"Oh, you're one to talk," Michael said acerbically. "If you were any kind of mother, you'd actually give me the advice I asked for rather than criticizing me. The jet lag must really be dulling my mind…I can't believe I even asked you to come over. You should just go…I'll figure out a way to handle this mess on my own…like I always do."
"Now, now," Tobias interjected. "We shouldn't be using such harsh language. Calling it a 'mess' (insert airquotes) adds an aura of negativity to the situation. This stunt is clearly a desperate cry for attention. What the children need now is our love and support."
"Oh, yes. This situation isn't negative at all. Maybe we can throw them a reception…balloons, streamers, the whole nine yards." Lucille replied sarcastically. "But we can hardly blame them…I mean, look at who they have as examples. You two with your farce of an 'open marriage'," she said as she waved her martini at Tobias and Lindsay, "and Michael always spouting off about 'family first.' Obviously, his son is a very confused young man who took that message far too literally. Lord help us if the girl is pregnant. The last thing we need in this family is another child like Buster. And she's so plump you'd hardly be able to tell until she was about to deliver."
"I doubt we have to worry about her being pregnant just yet. These things take time, money and dozens of visits to a fertility clinic," Lindsay said, receiving raised eyebrows from Michael and her mother and a supportive nod of agreement from her husband. "According to their marriage license, they haven't been married for very long at all. We should just be glad Tobias ran into Father Ben at the gym, or we may never have found out about this."
One hour earlier…
"Ah, Father Ben…it's so good to see you," Tobias said as he entered the gym for his morning workout. "I was wondering if you would be so good as to spot me on the bench press over there. I know…I know, you must be thinking 'with muscles like that, he surely doesn't need a spotter'…but it's better to be safe than sorry, I always say."
Father Ben was thinking no such thing. But he was thrilled to see Tobias, for an entirely different reason.
"Ah, Tobias…I was hoping I'd run into you. I just wanted to say how impressed I am by your family's acceptance of…unusual…marriages. I have something for you."
Father Ben handed Tobias a copy of George Michael and Maeby's marriage license, thinking that the family might want an additional copy for display purposes. Tobias, however, failed to notice the names on the certificate and mistakenly thought the marriage license was for him.
Father Ben…I…I'm flattered, and more than a little intrigued. But my open marriage with my wife is far from unusual in this day and age, and even if it is open, it is still technically a marriage, so I'm afraid I must regretfully decline your proposal."
"I think you've misunderstood me," Father Ben said gently. "I was congratulating you on your daughter's marriage to her cousin George Michael, and I thought your family might like an extra copy of the marriage license. I performed the ceremony myself not too long ago. And while the church as a whole doesn't necessarily approve of cousins marrying, there are certain…factions…that whole-heartedly embrace all manner of unions so long as they are formed in love. If you would ever like to discuss…alternate unions…maybe we could get dinner sometime?" Father Ben said as he gave Tobias' arm a gentle squeeze.
"Yes…yes, of course. It's a date," Tobias said distractedly as he gazed in confusion at the marriage license in his hand. "But I really have to run now…my wife will want to see this."
"What a loving and open-minded family," Father Ben mused to himself as he watched Tobias run off.
(end flashback)
Michael Bluth grabbed the marriage license out of Tobias' hand. "This can't be legal…I mean, they're minors. Don't they need a parent or legal guardian to sign off on something like this?"
They did, and they had.
"About that…" Lindsay said sheepishly.
"Oh, you didn't…" Michael said, running his hand through his hair in frustration.
"Well, we were all at the hospital visiting Buster, and George Michael told me about this mock wedding he and Maeby were doing for the Alzheimer's patients…you know…the one you told him to do because it would look good on his college applications. And well, I got creeped out looking at Buster lying there all wide-eyed and stiff in his fake coma, so I went to watch my daughter get married to her cousin instead. And I thought it would add an air of realism to it if I signed the license as one of the witnesses."
"Oh, it added a layer of realism all right…a legally binding layer of realism," Michael replied.
"This problem is easily solved. So long as they haven't been…physically intimate…they can have the marriage annulled. They're innocent children…I highly doubt they've been screwing around behind locked doors."
Lucille was wrong about what the children had been doing behind locked doors…but we'll just let that be our little secret.
"You mean, all it takes is lack of physical intimacy to get a marriage annulled? Why didn't anyone tell me? Tobias…this could be the solution to all our marital problems!" Lindsay exclaimed.
"To get a marriage annulled, you can't ever have had physical relations with your spouse. Now, I know you are going through a dry spell, but I'm pretty sure you and Tobias don't qualify," Michael said.
"You mean they won't make an exception if it was only once or twice?" Lindsay asked.
"I'm afraid it's a one strike and you're out sort of policy," Michael said with a false sympathy.
"I think we're getting distracted from the matter at hand," Lucille said. "We need to fix this dirty little problem before anyone finds out. I still can't believe you let this happen, Michael. I mean, I know I have had a few little indiscretions over the years…."
"Let's see…are you talking about the lying, the stealing, the cheating on your husband, the manipulation of your children, the alcoholism, the embezzlement of company funds or some other 'indiscretion' that I've missed?" Michael asked.
"Like I said…minor indiscretions," Lucille said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But I'd like to think that I taught my children right from wrong…and that you would teach your children the same. And just because Lindsay is adopted, it doesn't make this OK. They are still cousins, and it's disgusting and wrong for them to be together. I won't stand for it."
It was at that moment that George Michael and Maeby finally stumbled, out-of-breath, into the kitchen of the model home. The buttons of George Michael's shirt were crooked and Maeby's top was on inside out, but nobody noticed the disheveled appearance of the children. They were all staring at Lucille in shock.
"Mom's adopted?" Maeby asked, squeezing George Michael's hand in excitement.
"I'm adopted?" Lindsay exclaimed, looking at her mother in horror.
"You mean you didn't know?" Lucille said, trying to cover her blunder with a cavalier air of indifference. "I could have sworn I told you years ago. I mean, you didn't honestly think I could squeeze someone as large as you through hips this narrow, did you?"
"I'm adopted…" Lindsay said in wonderment. "I'm adopted!" she exclaimed again as she strode towards her brother Michael, a manic look in her eye.
Michael stepped back warily. "Now, I know mom just laid a huge bombshell on you, but don't go doing anything you're going to regret later."
"Oh, I'm not going to regret this at all," Lindsay said as she grabbed Michael's face in both of her hands and kissed him passionately. "I've been wanting to do that for years!"
Lucille downed the rest of her martini in a single shot. Then she walked over to her granddaughter Maeby and placed a hand on her cheek. "You are more like your mother than you will ever know," she said in disgust before walking out the door.
"I think we've had enough incest for one day," Michael said as he tried to push his sister away. Finally, he had to compromise and allow her to cling possessively to his arm as she leaned her head against his shoulder.
"Incest?" George Michael said, his voice high-pitched with nervousness. "Wh…what do you mean? There's no incest going on here. I mean, if two people who happened to grow up together find out they aren't blood-related, it's perfectly acceptable for their love to turn into something more."
"George Michael…is there something you want to tell me?" Michael said gently.
"Me? Tell you? I…I was talking about you and Aunt Lindsay. I thought you had something to tell me. I mean, I think it's great…just great. I fully support it."
"You do?" Michael said in surprise.
"He does!" Lindsay said, trying to wriggle under Michael's arms and sneak another kiss.
"Well, there's nothing here to support…nothing but brotherly love here," Michael said as Lindsay was not-so-discreetly nibbling on his neck.
"Lindsay…" Tobias said with a sigh, "don't you think you're being a tad insensitive?"
Lindsay, finally realizing how much it must be hurting her husband to see her in the arms of another man, apologetically extracted herself from Michael's side.
"Oh, Tobias, you're right. I'm so sorry."
"Of course I am. We can't have you carrying on like that in front of the children," he whispered loudly.
"Yes…I shouldn't do things like that in front of the…children," Lindsay said, giving her husband a disappointed look.
Michael forced himself to push his sister's newly revealed feelings out of his mind so that he could focus on the matter at hand. "George Michael…" he said slowly, "I have something very important to ask you."
"Sure…what is it, dad?" he replied as he wiped a drop of sweat off his forehead.
"I'm not quite sure how to put this gently, so I'm just going to come right out and ask. Have you and your cousin Maeby ever slept together?"
Maeby and George Michael looked at each other guiltily, and then they both began to laugh nervously. "Ha…ha ha. Dad…you're so funny. Of course we sleep together, we share a room!" George Michael replied.
"Ok, buddy. That was a weird question, I know. And I have just one more for you. You haven't received any sort of…legally binding documents…in the mail, have you?"
"Legal documents…why would anyone send me legal documents?" George Michael asked. "I'm just a kid, after all."
Michael walked over to his son and ruffled his hair. "Of course you are… " Michael said as he pulled his son in for a hug.
Then he turned to his sister and her husband. "They don't know…" he said with a relieved smile.
"Know what?" George Michael and Maeby asked in unison, trying their best to sound innocent.
Michael looked down at the naive faces of his son and his niece, and he knew that if he revealed to them that they were actually husband and wife, he would shatter the close bond of friendship they had developed. Instead, he decided to spare them this knowledge, believing that some day, years from now, when one of them truly wished to get married, they could get an annulment and have a nice chuckle. And so, after glancing meaningfully at Lindsay and Tobias, he grabbed the marriage license off the counter, crumpled it up and (not so) discreetly tossed it in the trash.
"You don't know…how grown up we think you both are. This family has gone through so much recently, and you both have been such troopers. I just wanted you to know how impressed I am with how mature you've been."
"Thanks, dad…that means a lot to me."
"Yeah, thanks Uncle Mike," Maeby chimed in.
"Now why don't you kids run along? I'm sure you can find some way to amuse yourselves up in your room. I have some things I really need to discuss with my sister Lindsay…you know, about the whole adoption thing."
"Sure thing, Uncle Mike." Maeby said hurriedly.
"Not a problem, dad." George Michael said simultaneously, grabbing Maeby's hand and quickly retreating from the kitchen.
As soon as they were back in their room, they sagged against the door with a sigh of relief.
"They don't know we know," Maeby said with a grin.
"They don't know," George Michael agreed with a grin of his own, giving his wife a tender kiss. "And you know what that means…"
"We still get to share a room," they said in unison as they tumbled onto the bed.