"Do you want to fly?" She asks.
Mason takes another drag of his joint. "I'm already flying."
"I mean really fly." Betty says, her toes peering past the edge of the cliff.
Mason sighs. "We can't fly, Betty. We're dead, not birds." He bloody hates birds.
Betty stares straight out. She doesn't look down but Mason doesn't think she ever does. It's the thrill of it all; stomach twisting, breath catching in her throat. It doesn't matter where you fall because it's the jumping that matters. The adrenaline, the feeling when the wind first hits you in the face. Replace the jump with a gram of cocaine and the equation remains the same.
(Sometimes Mason thinks Betty is the only one who really understands him).
Her smile touches her eyes. In this moment, Betty can't be broken.
Mason clips his joint and walks towards Betty. His toes don't quite meet hers. He imagines her calling him lily livered with her ruby red lips. "Right then," he says. "We'll learn."
Betty takes his hand. She doesn't count. He doesn't breath. And for thirty seconds, Mason swears they fly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Note: Short little dabble. This is probably set before George came into the picture. It was meant to be a Mason/ Betty friendship piece but I suppose you can draw more out of it if you want to.
This is my first Dead Like Me fanfiction. I just got into the show. I'm in love....too bad it seems like the community is over.