Flawless

Summary: Greg goes to Riley for dating advice, but she ends up learning more from him.

Author's Note: This was jot down quickly late at night and inspired by "A Miscarriage of Justice" and listening to Felicia Day singing Penny's Song. So you'll have to forgive any flaws in the story. I was tired and bored. Also, this is a friendly warning not to mix CSI with Dr. Horrible. The results… they're never good. [See "Dr. Robbins' Sing Along Blog" if you don't believe me.]

Here's a story of a girl
Who grew up lost and lonely
Thinking love was fairy tale
And trouble was made only for me…

Even in the darkness, every color can be found.

-- Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog


Her locker door was open and she stared at her reflection in the mirror at the back. Every hair was neatly tucked back into her ponytail. Every stitch of makeup was perfectly in place, every blemished disguised, every discoloration glossed, and every flaw hidden.

Perfection begins with personal appearance, and then slowly permeates through the pores to reach personality. Riley had learned this, long ago, when she had been flawless in appearance for his funeral, and had subsequently managed to remain poised and tear-free throughout the entire service. She had received several compliments on the conservative yet fashionable frock she had bought just for the occasion.

Yes. Her appearance was fabulous. Her demeanor, unbreakable. Her poise—

Shattered by the loud, obnoxious entrance of a coworker like a stone through a stained-glass window.

"Jesus," she muttered after recovering from having her heart nearly explode out of her chest. She cast Greg a scathing look, and he shrugged guiltily before making his way to his locker. She sighed and looked back at her mirror to see that a strand of hair had come loose during the whole affair. She scowled, and the expression marred her inscrutable features. Her scowl deepened, but it only made things worse.

She slammed her locker door shut, spun around and leaned against it, glaring at the man who had upset her concentration, and wondering why her heart hadn't settled down. Excess adrenaline, she thought to herself. I really must drink less caffeine.

"You seem to be in a hurry," she commented, trying and succeeding well enough to sound casual and not annoyed.

He flashed her a goofy grin as he pulled off his work boots. "Got a date."

She felt goose bumps prickle her skin, but she maintained an uninterested expression. "With a girl?"

"No, with Nick."

She was lost for words, the breath caught in her throat, and she struggled to regain the upper ground when Greg turned and cast her a look that clearly read, Are you serious?

"It was a joke. You can calm down now."

"Oh." And she did calm down. But she searched and searched and still could not find her words. "Um…"

"Actually, you're a girl," Greg said, spinning around on the bench.

"You're skills of observation never cease to impress me, Greg," she commented, dryly.

He grinned. "I need a female perspective," he began. "It's a first date. Is it too forward to bring flowers?"

She blinked. "Oh no. I'm the last person you want to ask for dating advice."

Amused disbelief was written all over Greg's face. "Oh, don't be shy. A girl like you? You must have been on dozens of dates." And then, he seemed to realize what he'd said. "I mean, not that I'm implying that you're a, you know—"

"I'd stop talking right now if I were you, before you swallow your shoe," Riley interrupted.

"So. Flowers, or no flowers?" Greg asked.

"I'd save the flowers until the second date," Riley suggested. "You don't know if she's worth it yet."

"That's a pessimistic way of looking at it," Greg mused, pulling on his tennis shoes. "I was thinking of taking her to a movie, and then dinner. That way, if we have nothing in common, we can at least talk about the movie."

"Sounds logical," Riley agreed, beginning to fidget.

Greg rose to his feet and took a tie out of his locker, tossing it around his neck. Riley observed how he began to tie it and couldn't prevent the tiniest of smiles from appearing on her lips when he seemed to get lost.

"You act as if you've never tied a tie before," she joked.

"Well, I have…" said Greg, biting his lip and concentrating on his reflection. "But every time, I always have to relearn, as I only wear suits for court or family affairs."

"Here…" said Riley, stepping over the bench and behind Greg. She took either end of the tie and did it for him. "You must really like this girl, if you're wearing a tie for her."

He smiled. "She made me laugh. Lately… it's been harder and harder to find a girl who could do that for me." He paused, watching her fingers as they finished the double Windsor in the mirror. "What do you look for in a date?"

"I don't date," she said simply, finishing off the tie.

"But you can tie ties," Greg pointed out, turning around to face her. Their faces were about an inch apart, and Riley felt her heart rate increase again. No, she told it, not now. Not again.

"I went to a private school," Riley explained. "My father thought a real tie rather than a clip on would help me build character or some bullshit like that."

Greg nodded. "I'm sorry, if I insulted you, back when I suggested that you… have been on a lot of dates."

She smiled, bashfully, then scolded herself internally. "It's fine," she said, moving to the side and backing up if only to get away from him and get her heart to stop pounding.

His eyes were on her. "Is there a reason you don't date?"

"Never ends well, does it?" Riley said with a sad half-shrug.

"It's not the ending that counts," Greg said. "It's the ride."

"The what?"

"The ride!" Greg laughed. "Like a rollercoaster. You know it's gonna end. But it was fun while it lasted."

"A rollercoaster doesn't break your heart."

"No, but it can make you throw up," Greg said. "Love can do that too, you know. I once ate ten chili dogs in three minutes to win a contest and impress a girl. That was not a fun night, let me tell you."

"Did it work?" Riley asked, raising her eyebrows.

"No," Greg said with a sigh. "She thought I was gross." He rolled his eyes. "High school, huh?"

"Mm…" She avoided his eyes.

"Riley…" Greg began slowly. "You look…"

"Messy?" she interrupted, tucking the stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I know. I'm sorry, I haven't had time to gather my—"

"I was not going to say messy," said Greg with an enigmatic grin.

She held her breath and couldn't look away from those soft brown eyes for a moment. "You have a date," she reminded him.

He looked at his watch. "She can wait."

"But she made you laugh."

Greg's eyes flickered to her closed locker door. "What were you looking at in there, when I walked in?"

"The mirror," Riley said, frankly.

"Some people might consider that vain."

"Not if they knew what I see when I look at it," Riley returned, an ounce of sass leaking through her defenses.

"I never said that I agreed with them," Greg replied. He gestured at his tie. "Is red a good color, or should I go with something more subdued, like blue?"

"You are very ADD, you know," Riley said, amused.

"It's a character flaw," Greg said, shrugging it off.

Riley was secretly impressed. "I didn't think you had flaws."

"You must be joking," Greg laughed, rolling his eyes. "If I was flawless, I wouldn't be this much fun."

"Why not?"

"The most interesting thing about people are their flaws," Greg said. "Don't you know that?"

Riley's hand moved up to smooth out her hair, pulling the ponytail over her shoulder. And then, she asked, "Do you think I'm interesting?"

Greg shrugged on a blazer, then looked at the ensemble in his own mirror. "Are you kidding? You're an enigma, Riley. Nothing more interesting than that."

She nodded, solemnly. Did that mean he saw through everything she did? "What are my flaws?"

He stumbled, then looked at her. "Beg pardon?"

"My flaws," she said, curiously, taking a step forward. "What do you think they are?"

Greg stopped fiddling with his blazer and tie and let his arms fall to the side. "For one, I know you didn't learn how to tie a tie in private school."

"That's a flaw?" Riley asked.

"It's a lie," Greg returned. "And lying is a flaw."

Riley was quiet a moment. "That is where I learned to tie a tie," she said in a whisper. "But it's not the only time I used that knowledge."

Greg sat down on the bench and watched her expectantly. It was clear that he was expecting a story, but he wouldn't prompt her, at least, not verbally.

She pursed her lips and took a seat beside him on the bench, her knees pointing towards him, and his pointing towards hers. "I believe that some people are… just not meant to find love."

"How can you believe that?" Greg asked.

"I hear pity in your voice, don't pity me," Riley snapped. "It's a fact that I've just accepted. I don't… understand it, I can't recognize it in others, and I don't even know if I've ever really felt it myself because love is supposed to be… unconditional. But everything I've ever felt has always had… limitations." Her heart continued to pound as the sweat collected in her palms and slid into the crevices of her fingers. She could smell him now, and their knees were almost touching. But she couldn't go there. Not again.

Greg waited patiently for her to continue. He said nothing, he just watched her, curiously, with kind and forgiving eyes. And Riley realized, for the first time, that she had met someone who wouldn't mind if she wasn't perfect.

She held her breath, hesitating momentarily, because she hadn't spoken his name aloud in over ten years. "I thought I fell in love in college," she said, avoiding Greg's eyes. "I thought I would love him for the rest of my life and longer, but I just can't stop… hating him now."

She bent her head and felt more strands of hair fall out of her ponytail.

"Andrew," she whispered. "Andrew Morgan. My parents were always… logical and rational and sane, and I blame them for it too, because they drove me to him, because he was none of those things. We eloped, because that was his style. I'm not so spontaneous. I should have never agreed to it. We shared a bed for two years. He became a lawyer who never learned to tie a tie, and I was just… me. I never thought anything was wrong. And one day I come home from work… Neck ties… A fan… A knocked over chair… An empty bottle of tequila. Broke his neck before he could suffocate, the coroner said. Time of death was about an hour before I got home. Funeral people did a terrible job of hiding the ligature marks. But at least I looked flawless."

She hadn't cried then, and she wasn't crying now. She wouldn't, either. That was a line she wasn't ready to cross.

And then, she felt warm fingers reaching out and tucking her stray hair back behind her ear. She raised her head to look up at Greg to find him smiling. "You're anything but flawless," he said quietly.

She didn't cry then either. Her will was strong enough to control her tear ducts. But she wasn't focusing on controlling her other impulses, things that she didn't think she had to worry about anymore, not since Andrew had died. It was her biggest mistake. She leaned forward, her lips crashing against his and his arms encircled her waist as if he had predicted it. Her fingers entangled themselves in his hair, and though the kiss was desperate, it was also cautious, slow and quietly breathtaking.

She pulled away, carefully, as if afraid her body would betray her again. Their noses were just touching, their eyes cast downward. "I'm sorry if I made you late for your date," she said quietly. He laughed, which made her laugh until they both looked up and their eyes met.

"If I ever need someone to tie my tie…" he said slowly. "I know who to ask."

"But this…" She gestured at the two of them. "It's not going to work out."

"How do you know that?" Greg asked, sounding hurt by the statement.

"No, I mean…" She tried to make him feel better. "It will end. And I… am not ready to go there again."

"Don't you miss the ride?" Greg asked.

"Greg…" He put a finger to his lips.

"Can't we just wait and see what happens?" he continued.

"Your date—"

"Riley," he said, sharply. "If I promise not to kill myself… would you have dinner with me?"

She pouted. "That wasn't funny."

"Will you forgive a stupid joker and let me buy you dinner to make it up to you?" he amended.

She looked at his tie and smiled. "Sure… But you're right. Blue would be a better color."

He smirked. "Would you tie it for me?"

She heard her heart beat faster, but for once didn't hush it. And then, she smiled.