GEORGE
Rated T for suggestive language. As long as I keep writing, it's a continuously enthusiastic 'thank-you-selfie' to "Selfie", and a big note of gratitude to EK, KG, and JC. Initially submitted to the #SaveSelfie fanfic writing contest Tumblr campaign, this piece has been modified and lengthened to fill out a few blanks.
Summary: All euphemisms aside, someone gets a cat (yes, really) and feeds them generously.
A shy little ball of fur poked its head around the corner, and wandered into the bright and cozy den. Seeing the two bipeds together was intimidating, more so than just the one who supplied milk and a warm place to sleep.
The room was well lit, bathed in soft warm yellows and wood-earth browns. A big desk, a few lamps, sofa, coffee table, big shelving units were items the small creature could not name or identify, but its little mind already viewed them as future opportunities for climbing and exploration.
Feeling strangely comforted by the one biped with long flowing red hair, the furball looked up with curiosity. The redhead spoke, but not to the kitten in question.
"So … you actually got one."
"That's right … why?"
"Nothing …"
He looked at her askance; she was up to something. "Eliza … out with it …"
"I didn't think you'd go through with it.
"Go through with it?"
"You do know that 'feeding the cat' is a euphemism for ..."
"Yes! I know!"
Eliza narrowed her eyes. She was going to test just how much he knew.
"Getting the boink on, hitting a homerun, doing the deed, a roll in the hay ..."
He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Please ..."
She put her hands on her hips in knowing defiant fashion. "A big ride on the flag pole ..."
"... Eliza ..."
"... the lust and thrust ..."
"... stop ..."
"... taking a long trip to pound town ..."
" ... please ... stop ..."
He was blushing furiously, to her absolute delight. "You know I can do this all day ..."
"Eliza, I'm begging you ... no more ..."
"You're begging me, Henryyyy?" Her full toothsome smile bordered on the 'playfully evil.'
At her determined look to complete her final thought, he raised an index finger to the air, the look on his face urging her to stop. "No ...," he implored.
She deliberately opened her mouth as if to continue, baiting him again.
"Nooo ..."
"Well then ..." Eliza smirked with satisfaction. She looked down once more at his new pet. "You got a Ragdoll?"
Henry breathed deeply, relieved her one-sided game was done. "Yes, they're affectionate, easy to take care of, and they have big blue eyes. How'd you know my cat is a Ragdoll?"
"I've had cats before, Henry. Remember I had one called 'Notorious C.A.T.'?"
He nodded.
"I'm surprised you didn't get a Siamese; they're a little more regal."
He glared at her, softened by the knowledge she was mocking him. "Haha, funny, Eliza. I know about Siamese well enough to know they're vocal and chatty. Besides, I have you ..."
"Waaa?! Whatevs! Was that a burn or a compliment, and did you just compare me to your kitten, even though it's very … "
She stopped mid-sentence with a squeal, followed by a sympathetic 'awwww.' The kitten had failed spectacularly to climb up his pant leg.
"I've got to tweet and `gram this: H-dawg has a cat!"
"Okaaaaay …" It was only then he noticed she had something extra in hand. "Hey, what's in the bag?"
Eliza dug out the iPhone from her purse, and plunked both purse and bag onto the floor. She took a snap of the kitten lying prone, upside down on the floor. She was in mid-tweet when she replied.
"Your jacket. I can't believe I've waited this long to return your jacket."
He never asked. She hadn't brought it up.
Both might have had reasons to feel embarrassed, and there were likely more reasons on his side, he supposed. But his subsequent rejection at karaoke night, their return to common ground as BFFs ('better friends with the feels'), a gradual change to the new-old Eliza, and her subsequent breakup with Freddy had made for a breathtaking and very eventful four weeks.
With all of that rushing past his mind's eye, he was as eloquent as a monk on the mute.
"Oh … uh … thanks …"
Mostly on the mute, he realized, but totes correct on the sex life of a monk. TOTES?! What the hell was Eliza's voice doing in his head?!
"I want to talk about it." She looked at him keenly. Her abrupt focus was a little unusual, especially now that it was trained on him; he found this Eliza a little unsettling.
"'It'. What is this 'it' to which you're referring?", he asked evasively.
A few weeks ago, she would've been frustrated and walked away. The difference now was she knew better. In an instant, she decided she would push back, push harder. Eliza shook her head at him, bent down, and picked up Henry's pet, cradling the limp mewing kitten in her arms.
"Awwwwww, your cat is totes adorbs. What's her name?"
"It's a 'he', and his name is George."
"George … I like it."
He smiled at her approval.
She leaned down to the kitten. "Henry is obtuse and very silly, isn't he, George?"
"Did you just use the word 'obtuse'?"
"Stupid, dumb, half-wit, brain-dead, dumbass … I really like dumbass, by the way …"
"OK, OK, I get it."
"Oh my ragdoll George … that Henry, suddenly he's a smart one …" She gave George a kiss on the head, and put him down onto the floor. The kitten scampered out of the den to survey further his domain.
This time, she looked at him straight in the eyes. "I don't want any bullshit. I just wanna talk about it."
He closed his eyes and breathed slowly. She waited for him; patience was one thing she had learned from their many lessons. He had never realized those lessons would one day be used on him. It seemed the continued silence meant he would begin.
"First of all, I loved how you made my jacket look so good on you. I was amazed you did so much with so little … no, Eliza, don't go there … just … not yet …"
She wanted to pounce on what he said, but remained silent. Her brief disappointment dissipated when he allowed for a return to point.
"Second, I always thought you could do better than Freddy. But you two were getting 'seriously serious', and you said 'things had gone okay' over dinner with Freddy and his parents. If he made you happy, I was okay with that. Mostly okay with that. So imagine my confusion when you decided to give me back my jacket, you opened the jacket, and I got to see …"
" … ogle …"
"… your naked body underneath."
"You didn't exactly run screaming for the hills. You lingered. Yes, Henry, your eyes lingered."
"Yes, well … you're a very beautiful woman …"
She giggled self-consciously. "I think that's the first time you've said that out loud and directly to me."
"No … really?"
"Uh huh," she replied, opening the trap.
He really should've known better. "Oh, well how about that time when I picked you up for Terrence and Maureen's wedding …?"
"AHA! Knew it! I knew you thought I was beautiful, even then!"
Busted, he thought.
"Yes, I did; I always have. But that night at your elevator … I wanted to say more than 'wow.'"
Her look softened. "I know; I could tell. Why didn't you?"
"I was confused, and I was a little afraid. You were with Freddy, and I had something going with Julia …"
Eliza looked at him skeptically, both reliving that conversation in his office on karaoke night.
"Look, Eliza, you had just dinner with his parents, for heavens' sake, and there you were in front of me … naked … soft … glowing … skin …"
If Eliza didn't know any better, she would've said his voice trailed off dreamlike, which she found unbelievably hot, knowing she was the cause. Because she was turning him on!
"If I had known showing you my hot rockin' bod would work, I might've pulled that trick on you earlier. But that night, I left dinner early, because I wanted to be with you. I chose you, you idiot!"
"You did?" Even after her subsequent declaration of love, this was something he still couldn't quite believe.
"Yeah, I did. I do; I still choose you."
If he hadn't remained in the moment, that might have been his heart melting or exploding. Kinda felt a lot like both, if you had asked him right then and there.
"But you know what? I def totes believe in second chances. I don't want to startle you, Henry, but I'm going to mess with your hair now."
"Wha-what? What do you mean?" Apparently, he hadn't been paying attention, because all of a sudden, she was a lot closer. Right up in his space, in fact.
"Henry ... I'm going to kiss you."
Recognizing his chance, he realized he no longer felt afraid. Instead he felt the strength of the gift she was tenderly returning to him. He let out a long breath in relief. "I'm glad, because I've wanted to kiss you for a long time."
"Words, Henry. Now show me," she demanded. "Show me how you feel."
She was always the push he had ever wanted or needed.
He grabbed her by the waist, fulfilling a pledge, satisfying their desire.
Waiting had made them yearn; their eager kisses crashed, resulting waves of love and affection washing away pain and past wrongs, mouths and lips sealing a delicious bond, replenishing them both with the promise of more. So much more.
"Uhm … wow." Barely finding his voice, those two words came out low and raspy, flavored with a hint of want and need. Lumps of his once well-styled hair stuck out at crazy angles.
The way he said those two simple words struck Eliza at her core: emotional and physical. She was very moved and, also, very aroused. But she smiled a secret smile instead. "I'm going to say 'good night' now."
"What, really?!"
She liked playing with him; this was their game, one only she and Henry could play together. But she also sensed things had gotten farther than he might've liked, and she wanted to give him some space.
"I know you, Henry. I think all this might've pushed you way beyond your comfort zone. So I'm leaving ... for now. But this means we've got something new, and the start of something really really good." She reached up to palm and caress his cheek. "Good night, my raggedy man." She leaned in to steal another kiss, before walking to and opening the glass door.
As she stepped out into the Los Angeles night, he called out to her.
"Eliza …"
She turned to face him, hope in her voice. "Yes, Henry?"
He lit up with a smile. "You sure you want to head home right now?" echoing the same question a nude Eliza asked him by her elevator.
She laughed. "Is this where you stop being a chicken?"
He laughed in reply, knowing the message was received. "Nice burn. Yes, it is, and it's also part of my new mantra: no fear. So, get your ass back in here, Eliza."
She walked back into his house, closing and locking the door behind her. She liked this new confident and forceful side to his personality.
He closed the distance and reached up to part a lock of her hair, a fine touch over her glasses, his finger tracing a soft line of fire along her cheek, before dropping his wayward hand to the side.
"Sometimes, I catch myself when I see your shorter hair and your glasses. It's almost like there's a different person, but underneath, it's still you; it's always been you. I think about how far you … no … how far we've come."
She frowned. "You think I look different? Like, butt different?" She shouldn't, but a part of her, the Doolio, still cared what he thought about her appearance.
"I think you look really super cute."
She looked down and blushed.
"Eliza, it's not just about your looks. It's about everything that makes who you really are, the one that I've come to know and care about: the smart sensitive caring beautiful Ariel hot ginger of a woman." He raised his hand again to palm her cheek. "I gotta admit though: you are sexy hot in these glasses."
She dropped her purse to the floor without care, and cozied up to him. She looped her arms around his neck, fingers loose and in play with his hair.
"I do, don't I? 'That's right, bitches: I'm better than basic!'"
He laughed, shaking his head at her. "What am I going to do with you?"
"You know what, Henry? You love it. And I like to think we went through this whole process together."
"We are a winning combination, aren't we?"
"For the win, baby ..." She leaned in, and her heart soared when he closed the remaining gap. "Eliza and Henry. You and me. Can't lose ..."
George shuffled back slowly into the den. Things seemed too quiet. He looked up to see the two tall individuals holding each other, hungry gasps emanating from where their mouths were attached.
Funny creatures, these fair bipeds.
"George" is for Mr. Shaw and his "Pygmalion." Eliza mentions her two dead cats, Two-Paws Shuh-Cute and The Notorious C.A.T., on a pre-season promotional "Selfie" video for the ABC television network: youtube DOT com / n78ZIQ8waVg