Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Careful Planning

Chapter 3

Rube was in shock over her words as he watched her turn and run from the room. Her sharp parting word brought him out of his stupor but he couldn't bring himself to go after her just yet. He was still processing the words she'd said before that. He didn't think that she'd meant to say what she did. She probably hadn't planned on telling him about her feelings at all. She was too good at masking her real emotions and hiding things, even from him, and he knew her better than anyone else did, even her parents in her former life. But he hadn't seen this coming. He felt like a freight train had just hit him square in the chest. It hurt like fucking hell, and he couldn't see his way around it. He took a few more minutes to absorb her words because they had come out of the blue to him. He had to run it through is mind another time before he was sure he had heard her and caught her meaning.

The kid…no, he couldn't think of her like that anymore, not after the bomb she'd just dropped on him. No, George, didn't want to be called Peanut, because she felt perverted by her feelings when he called her that. That meant she didn't want him to feel paternal toward her. She wasn't interested in having a father figure, she wanted a….lover. He sighed as the word rang through his mind. His thoughts turned to the guy she'd gotten herself arrested over. She had wanted him and he wasn't there so she turned to a guy who was convenient. He sighed again and looked wonderingly at the living room she had disappeared into. He was such a fucking idiot to have not seen this before. She was young and beautiful. She hadn't experience sex or love in life, hadn't had time, and she was still looking for it in her afterlife. She just didn't know how to find it. So went and fell in love with him, someone who represented safety, strength, and companionship, and someone who understood her. And when he hadn't been there, she tried to find it with someone else and had her feelings hurt by both of them.

"Oh, George, we've both fucked things up this time." He muttered as he stood up. It was time to find her and have a chat.

He walked into the living room and looked around. It was softly lit and at first he didn't see her. He stopped and looked again, listening for her too. He heard a soft sighing hiccough coming from behind the couch and went to investigate. There was George, hiding the best way she knew how, knees to her chest, blanket around her doing her best to be quiet while she sobbed her heart out into a pillow, in the smallest space she could find and still be able to breathe. He squatted down beside her and reached out to brush a stray lock of hair away from her face, but she shied away. She hadn't done that in a long time, and that hurt almost as much as her words had earlier.

"Will you come out then, because there isn't enough room for two of us back here?" He asked, hoping to get some response from her, even it if was just a 'fuck off'. She looked up at him then. She had tear tracks running down her face, the little mascara and eyeliner she'd bothered with making black smudges under her eyes. She studied him briefly then nodded. He stood and held out a hand to help her up. He was a little surprised when she took it, as he half expected her to bat it away and follow it with the expected 'fuck off', but she didn't. Even though she'd tried to hide, this was a more grown up George than he was used to seeing. She'd been growing up before his eyes and he hadn't bothered to notice until she pushed him into it. He brought her around to sit on the couch, rather than behind it.

"We need to talk, sweetheart." He said softly, as though he was doing his level best to be calm and not scare her. She glanced up at him briefly and got the impression he was acting like he was dealing with a wild animal.

"Yes we do. " She said equally as soft.

"You dropped a bomb on me, and I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"What's there to fucking unsure about? You either feel the same way or you don't. You either love me like your daughter or you love me like a friend, or you want me to be a lover. Those are your choices."

"But that's the problem George. I feel the first two, but until you said something, I'd never even considered the third as an option. I don't know how to wrap my mind around it. I don't know what you want from me, sweetheart." He looked at her sadly and she sighed in resignation. She felt a hollow ache start in her chest and wondered briefly had she been alive; could she die from a broken heart?

"Nothing, Rube. I don't want anything from you. Just forget it. Just pretend I never said anything. I'm sorry I said anything at all. I'll see you tomorrow." And there was the grown up acceptance of his words at face value. She didn't try to argue, like the old George would have. She just let it go. And he felt like he'd just kicked a puppy.

"Sweetheart…." He started but she waved him off.

"I get it. You don't have to say. I understand." He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face and stood up to leave. He couldn't seem to make her understand that he just needed some more time to process this change in his way of seeing her. But she wouldn't let him. She was pushing him away, giving him the distance that he thought only moments ago, that he needed. He was at a loss. It wasn't all that different from the beginning of her time as a reaper. He hadn't known what to do with her then either.

"George, please, you don't understand…." She stopped him mid-sentence.

"I understand perfectly. I think you need to leave now. I'll see you tomorrow Rube." He opened his mouth to say something, anything to get her to let him stay, but nothing came out. So he did as she asked and left, letting the door close softly behind him. He leaned against it for a moment to gather himself before heading home. It was going to be a long fucking night for both of them.