Shoot the Moon

By Chash

            Shooting Fish fic.  Fear the obscure British movies.  Slashiness, in what I hope is a justified way.  Because hey, Jez said it, not me.  Takes place during the course of the film, on the night of Dylan and Georgie's date thing, after Jez comes into the picture.  Not that I expect that will mean anything to anyone—I imagine very few people have seen/remember this film.  But I love it.  One of our most referenced quotes is from Jez and in the movie: "It's kind of a compulsion with him. He has to exchange fluids with everyone he meets. That's why we never have pets."  So yeah.  Have fun, anyone who actually knows what's going on.

"The summer days are gone too soon
You shoot the moon
And miss completely"

-Norah Jones, "Shoot the Moon"

Something had been bothering Georgie.  It wasn't really much, just a sort of question on her mind. 

            "Jez," she asked, turning to the man walking next to her.  Jez looked up questioningly.  "You told me Dylan has to exchange fluids with everything he meets."

            "Right," replied Jez.

            "What about you?"

            "Me?" asked Jez, actually looking at her from the shock of it.  "What do you mean, what about me?"

            "Wouldn't you two have had to exchange fluids?" she asked, smirking slightly.  "Pleasuring with the tongue and all that?"

            Jez was blushing.  Georgie blinked.

            "Oh, shit.  I'm sorry, Jez.  Did you really…?"

            Jez looked away.  "Look, it was a long time ago.  And I'm not like that, really.  It was just a… look, it's just Dylan, all right?  It's just the way he is with people."

            "Jez, I don't mind or…" she wanted desperately for him to not be falling in love with her, though it was obvious it was, and it worried her.  More distressingly, she didn't want to give him the wrong impression about her own interest in him, but what her interest was distressed her. Regardless, she realized that she didn't want him to be nervous here, and so tried to be soothing.  "Really, it's nothing.  It doesn't matter."

            "It's not like we're *boyfriends* or anything," said Jez, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  "It's just something that happened once or twice, a long time ago.  Nothing about now," he said, and gave her that look, the look that said he was in love with her.  "It was… I dunno.  It was dumb."

            Georgie looked at him and realized suddenly that he was shaking.  "We can talk about it, if you'd like," she said gently.  Jez looked at her.  This was the kind of look that told her he was, at best, dubious about discussing his past relationship with his roommate on what he hoped was the first date type thing he had with a girl he was rather interested in.

            "Not really."

            She laughed to try and make him more comfortable.  "Did he take you to the night club too?  The same deal as with me?"

            "No, he hadn't got it figured out back then.  It was just…" Jez trailed off.  "It was nothing.  It was stupid."

            Georgie let it go as they went up into the house.

            Something had been bothering Jez.

            "Hey, Dylan," he said, turning to his partner.  Dylan held up a finger to his lips and gestured to the phone.

            "Yes, I brought some checks in two days ago… I was wondering if they're ready yet.  All right, thank you.  Yes, I'll be down later," Dylan put down the phone.  "What is it?"

            "Do you ever," Jez started, but faltered.  "I mean, do you…"

            "Use your words, Jez," Dylan urged softly.  Jez glared at him.

            "D'ya ever think about us?" he managed.  Dylan looked at him.

            "What about us?  I'll admit you and me are what takes up most of my thought process—well, mostly me.  And women.  But I think about us, yeah."

            "I mean… God, I mean about *us*.  You haven't forgotten about that, have you?"

            "Shit, Jez, you make it sound like I broke up with you or something.  I mean, of course I remember, but it's not like I think about it a lot.  Why are *you* thinking about it?"

            "Georgie."

            Dylan smirked.  "Not sure you're into chicks after all?"

            Jez glared at him.  "It's not that.  She asked."

            "Christ, she thought we were sleeping together?"

            "No.  I had to explain your bizarre need to stick your tongue down her throat."

            "I wouldn't call that bizarre.  I'd call that male instinct."

            "Anyway, I told her you exchange fluids with everything you meet.  And naturally she asked if I was included."

            "And you *told* her?  Christ, Jez, do you even know what to *do* with a woman you're interested in?"

            "Look, you know I can't lie as well as you can."

            "A fault I've been working on for years."

            "So what was I supposed to do?"

            "I would have silenced her with my mouth."

            "She's not that kind of girl!"

            "Jez, everyone is that kind of girl.  *You're* that kind of girl."

            "I am not!"

            "Well, except for the girl part.  You're so unaccustomed to being kissed it catches you completely off guard."

            "You know, I try to work on that."

            "Yes, my dear Jez, you're just socially inept.  It's really rather sad—and a waste of a perfectly good kisser, I might add."

            "You know, you give me very conflicting messages, Dylan."

            "Really?"

            "You shag me, you tell me I'm ugly, you tell me I'm a good kisser, you tell me no women will ever want me…"

            "That's a very consistent message."

            "Oh really?"

            Dylan nodded.  "Go gay."

            Jez glared at him.  "Bloody wanker."

            "Well, Jez, I'd just say you should go where you've got the better history.  One man to zero girls has to make you think, doesn't it?"

            "Are you offering, then?" asked Jez with a smirk.  Dylan smirked back.

            "Forgetting about your secretary?"

            "Secretary doctor, I'll have you know.  And not for a second.  I believe you dumped me, Dylan."

            "Did I?  My loss, I suppose.  I should get to the bank."

            "You should.  Have fun, mate," said Jez, waving as he settled down to tinker.

            Something had been bothering Dylan.  It had been bothering him for years, really.  It bothered him so much that he'd stopped drinking heavily, even.  It haunted him.

He'd lied to Jez, of course.  Because he did think about them.  He thought about the two of them an awful lot.  He'd dumped Jez, and he regretted it.  He couldn't forget it.  But Dylan didn't mention it.  He knew better.