George Michael enjoyed making out with Maeby, but landing on the jacket reminded him of his father, so he pulled away with guilt. "Maeby, wait! Wait."
"For what?" she asked breathlessly. "We're not cousins."
He whispered, "I know, but your dad might hear us, or go through the bathroom door. Besides, we--we need to talk about some stuff. My dad was just arrested."
"Okay." Maeby reluctantly sat up with him, and took his hand comfortingly. "Are you all right?"
He shook his head. "I mean, my dad told me not to worry, but I think he's really in trouble, and I don't know what to do. Plus, I've got these--" He reached to pull the cashier's checks out of the jacket, but before he could explain, Tobias knocked on the door, startling them.
"George Michael, I--" He tried to open the door. "Is this locked?"
"Uh, yeah. Sorry." George Michael got up, but Maeby held onto him and called out, "We're fine, Dad. I told you."
Tobias said, "Oh, I know, but I came up to have a word with your cousin. Hmm, is this a bad time?"
George Michael feared that there was suspicion in Tobias's voice, so he made Maeby let go. "No, uh, j-just a second." George Michael picked up the fallen ladder and put it back, before unlocking the door. He said, "We were just going to talk," as if that might excuse their earlier kisses.
Tobias spoke sympathetically and obliviously, though. "If by 'talk,' you mean 'cry,' there's nothing to be ashamed of, George Michael! Oh, your father may be all John Wayne about hiding his tears, but you don't have to be like him, or lock the door because you're too proud. Come here." He pulled George Michael into a hug and encouraged, "Let it out. Let it all out."
George Michael was surprised and relieved for a moment, almost wanting to cry, since he did feel scared and upset by his father's arrest. But then Tobias started singing, "Somewhere over the rainbow, there's another rainbow, where big boys cry..." and rubbing his back a little too familiarly. George Michael became uncomfortable and tried to pull away.
"Oh, but you haven't cried yet." Tobias held onto him.
"Dad, that's enough!" Maeby helped pull him off.
George Michael staggered back to the window and placed the desk chair in front of him. "No, I'll--I'll cry later. Not now."
"All right. Have it your way, John Wayne." Tobias then sat on the dresser and said, "Anyway, I came up here because I'm about to start making dinner, and I wanted to know if you'd like any special comfort foods tonight. Like say, some corn balls, or should I say, blue b--"
"No!" George Michael answered. "No. I-I'm not even hungry now."
"If you say so. But I'll whip up something anyway, and perhaps you might join us later, when you're not so shy." With a flourish, he turned and left them alone.
Maeby shut and locked the door again, before going over to George Michael. "I'm sorry about my dad. Sometimes I wish he'd just move out again."
George Michael shrugged off the awkwardness and started to speak, but then she hugged him and kissed him. He lost his train of thought and smelled her hair. They started making out again, and soon Maeby pulled him back towards the bed. As they lay down, he asked her anxiously, "Wait, what if he comes back?"
"He won't. Besides, next time, we won't unlock the door."
"But what about your mom, or--?"
She climbed onto him and shut him up with more kisses. He gave in to her recklessness, and for the moment forgot that he had anything important to discuss with her.
However, then they heard George Michael's cell phone ringing in the room.
"Don't answer that," she said.
"It's probably my dad."
"Ugh! His timing is about as bad as my dad's."
George Michael sat up and took a calming breath, before grabbing his phone. "Hello?"
"George Michael, hey, it's me."
"Hi, Dad."
"Did you get home all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." He glanced in the mirror with some guilt, glad that his father couldn't see his disheveled state. "Are you okay, Dad?"
"I'm great. I talked to the lawyer, and she's gonna handle everything. Don't worry."
"So you'll get out of jail soon?"
Pouting impatiently, Maeby pushed the tuxedo jacket off the bed and finally saw the checks. "Whoa." Her eyes widened as she read them.
"What was that?"
"Nothing." George Michael decided to get up and walk into Lindsay and Tobias's room. He lied, "Uh, Pop-Pop was just talking to Franklin."
"Oh. Well, yes, I will get out of jail soon, George Michael. I mean, not tonight, because they didn't ever find those cashier's checks."
"I've got the checks."
"Oh, you do?"
"Yeah, I-I had your jacket and was hiding the checks from the police. You need them?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, I'm sorry. It's just, I thought they wouldn't believe that you were gonna give them back. They wouldn't believe me about stealing the yacht."
"That's okay, son. You were just trying to help. But don't worry. Just give the checks to Jan Eagleman tomorrow, and she'll handle everything."
"Okay, Dad." He sighed with great relief and pulled a chair over to the vanity.
Michael asked him, "So, are you there with just Pop-Pop, or did anybody else come home yet?"
"Um..."
Michael guessed, "Maeby's there?"
"Uh, yeah. She--she just got here with her mom and dad." He became fidgety and sweaty.
Michael sighed. "Don't tell me you kissed again?"
He admitted, "I-I just couldn't help it, Dad. And we're not really blood-related, so--"
"But you're still family," Michael insisted. Then he asked in a lower voice, "I mean, what, do you think I'd hook up with your Aunt Lindsay just because I found out that she's adopted?"
"Ew! No!" George Michael was disturbed and couldn't imagine that Michael was speaking more than hypothetically.
"So it's not about the blood, George Michael. It's about right and wrong. Do you understand?"
"Yeah, I-I do. She's still not an option." George Michael frowned and tried not to think of kissing her.
Michael continued, "Listen, I know it's hard, but you've got to be strong, buddy. Don't even let yourself be alone with her at all. I already told Lindsay and Pop-Pop about you two, so you can go to them for help."
"Oh, they--they both know?" George Michael wondered why they hadn't come upstairs yet. Perhaps they were busy talking about the arrests.
"Yeah, and we'll get you an annulment as soon as possible. For now, just sleep in the master bedroom again, or uh, maybe you should go stay with your Uncle Buster for a while. You know, keep him company while Gangee's in jail."
"I-I guess so," George Michael reluctantly agreed, but kept glancing toward the door of the other room.
"Everything's gonna be all right, and I'll come home soon," Michael said. "Good night, buddy. I love you."
"I love you too, Dad." George Michael hung up, and stared sadly at the phone.
Maeby was standing in the bathroom doorway, holding the checks. "What did he say?"
"Um," he finally faced her and saw the checks in her hands. "He--he said I should give those to his lawyer."
"Oh, this is evidence, huh?" She had suspected as much, when she realized that it came out of Michael's tuxedo jacket.
He stood up and tried to take the checks, but she held them back. "What did he say about me?"
George Michael frowned and replied awkwardly, "Well, um, he--he said that we're still family."
"Hmph." She folded her arms.
George Michael looked at his feet. "And he wants me to go stay with Uncle Buster for a while."
"So you just said yes, huh? You're just gonna let him bully you like that?"
"He's not bullying me. He's just trying to help me--"
"No, he's trying to control you. Like when he tried to put you in Milford, and Openings, when you didn't want to go. And he's tried to drag you off to Arizona and Cabo too. He's not right, just because he's your dad."
"I know he makes mistakes sometimes, but he's really trying now. And I think he's right about us, Maeby. We're just kids, and this is crazy. I mean, you wanted to shred our marriage license, remember?"
"I know, but I still thought we were cousins then, and it was freaky. Besides, I never thought I'd be married at 16." Though she'd given out many proposals.
"Right, we're too young, and it'll never last. Besides, you're making movies, so you'll be around all those cool Hollywood actors. I can't compete with that."
She looked at him tenderly and touched his sleeve. "You don't have to compete with them. You're George Michael."
He looked up and searched her face for any sarcasm, but she only smiled fondly. "You mean it?"
"Yeah." She added with a shrug, "And you know, I don't even really want an older guy anymore." In this area at least, she didn't need to rush growing up.
"But you wanted Steve Holt."
"No, I was just trying to avoid my real crush on you."
"Really?"
"Yeah." She pulled him closer and they kissed again. She dropped the checks on the dresser.
In his cell, Michael sat on the hard cot and unbuttoned his dress shirt. He tried to relax and not think about Cabo or Arizona anymore; once again, he and George Michael would have to defer their escape from their family. Hopefully, Jan Eagleman would get him bailed out tomorrow, and resolve his case soon. Michael certainly didn't want to end up in Orange County Prison wearing a jumpsuit like his father's.
Then he wondered whether his mother would be all right, and whom she would request for a defense lawyer. Maybe she would try to convince Wayne Jarvis to switch sides again, or woo Bob Loblaw back. The Bluths still had money from their legal defense fundraiser, especially since Jan Eagleman agreed to defend them for free.
After taking off his shoes, Michael lay down and awkwardly remembered the last time that he'd been locked up and wearing a tuxedo.
Michael and GOB had broken into the Orange County Prison to rescue their mother from the warden's machinations. But it turned out that she didn't need rescuing, and she even made up with George Sr. in the conjugal trailer.
Meanwhile, the Bluth Foundation gala turned into a riot, and after the chaos died down, a guard led Michael to a cell, to spend the night. But when he saw that his brother GOB already lay unconscious in the lower bunk bed, Michael quickly turned around.
"No, wait, this is my brother. I need to find my son, George Michael."
"Sorry, warden's orders because of the riot. First come, first served, and no switching cells. We need everybody to stay put."
"But--"
"No switching!" the guard insisted, slamming the door shut as if Michael were a real prisoner, not a guest. "Lights out in three." Then he walked away.
Michael held onto the bars and looked out anxiously. Where was his son? Where was the rest of the family? What sane people would ever agree to be locked into a prison after a fundraiser, new wing or not?
Finally, Michael turned around and looked at his older brother with resignation. He cautiously came nearer and knelt in front of him. GOB had a bruise on his head, as if he'd been hit during the rioting. Michael wondered if perhaps it was serious enough that he could request that the guards transfer GOB to the infirmary at least.
GOB stirred as Michael touched him, and he murmured, "Mikey."
Michael jumped back with a gasp, afraid that GOB had woken up. But GOB just sighed and stretched out, still asleep. Michael caught his breath and decided not to risk examining his brother any further. He really didn't want to know that GOB dreamed about him. He didn't want to be here at all.
Michael wished that he had never read the warden's screenplay, and had never gone to the prison. He should have stayed home, where at least he could lock himself in his bedroom, but instead he was trapped here, with GOB.
Suddenly, the prison lights went out, leaving only moonlight streaming through the barred windows.
"Oh (bleep)." Michael got up slowly and moved toward the ladder at the end of the bunk bed. He found a chair nearby, so he began undressing and laying his clothes on it. But he kept glancing toward GOB's silhouette, paranoid that his brother might really be awake and watching him in the darkness.
So Michael climbed into the top bunk and undressed there, before tossing his clothes down to the chair. Then he pulled the blanket over him and lay down, trying to be calm. But he stared at the moving shadows and couldn't sleep. He could hear GOB breathing below him, and his whole body tensed.
For a long time, Michael had tried to ignore his brother's inappropriate behavior. He dismissed GOB acting clingy as mere neediness and loneliness; GOB was just starved for love, attention, and respect. And like Tobias, GOB was often oblivious to how his words and actions came across. Michael convinced himself that GOB was only harrassing him accidentally, like he had with Gary in the office. So Michael humored GOB's strangeness and tried to steer their relationship in healthier, non-sexual directions.
But he could no longer ignore GOB's incestuous conduct. His embraces had become too intense, too lingering, and he had even sneaked up on Michael's back once, pinning him in the corner of the kitchen. GOB also tried to make Michael taste his tears, and he claimed that there was only one sleeping bag, so that they would have to share when they went camping. When Michael asked GOB to serve as a witness at his and Rita's wedding, GOB creepily offered to get him a hooker and watch them. He even spanked Michael, just like Tobias and their perverted ex-lawyer Barry had done before. GOB was shameless.
Today, GOB hugged him too long after the jetpack flew away from them, and then they got into a compromising position to read the map on GOB's tummy. The guard who found them said, "Hey, guys. If you're gonna party, you want to bring it inside?"
What would Michael do, if GOB woke up and tried something tonight? What if he wanted more than a naughty hug or kiss? What if he wanted a real 69? What if he had his forget-me-now pills with him?
Michael broke into a sweat and recalled the words from the warden's screenplay, "Anything can happen when two people share a cell, cuz." GOB hadn't read it, of course, but Michael remained sleepless and afraid. Afraid of his own brother.
Michael was not sure what time he finally managed to fall asleep, but the prison lights were back on when GOB woke him up the next morning. GOB was standing on the bunk bed below, and his hand rested on Michael's chest, playing with the wrinkles of his t-shirt.
GOB whispered, "Hey, Mikey. Do you know what happened last night?"
Michael gulped and pulled the blanket over him again. "No." He didn't feel as if he had been molested, and yet GOB's question seemed to suggest otherwise.
GOB frowned. "(Bleep). I don't know either. I remember the riot breaking out, and I went to meet you guys at the conjugal trailer, but that's it. Did Mom get out okay?"
Michael realized what GOB meant now, and he sat up wearily. "Uh, yeah, Mom's fine. I was wrong, actually. The warden wasn't plotting any revenge."
"Really? So you screwed up!" GOB grinned in a pleased, superior way, but he also leaned nearer and put a hand on Michael's knee.
Maybe he wasn't so paranoid about GOB after all. Michael said, "Yeah, and then Dad showed up instead of escaping. The warden let him stay and nail Mom in the trailer."
"God!" GOB reacted with disgust and jumped away, onto the floor. With a shudder, he paced around the cell and complained of Michael's filthiness. "I have a sense of propriety!"
Michael let him rant, using the opportunity to climb down and get his clothes. But he didn't dress quickly enough, because GOB suddenly grabbed him and pulled him to the lower bed.
"Hey!" He tried to get up, but was hampered by his pants not being on all the way.
"Oh God, I remember now!" GOB broke down and cried against his brother's cheek, confessing that he had been detained against the trailer before getting knocked out. He clung to Michael hysterically and wouldn't let go.
Michael reluctantly patted GOB's back and tried to calm him. GOB meanwhile tried to make Michael taste his tears again, and he kept leaning Michael backward, pinning him against the ladder. "No! GOB, don't--"
Suddenly, the cell door opened, and a prison guard stood staring at them. "You're... free to go."
Michael finally slipped out of GOB's grasp and scurried back to the chair. He cleared his thoat and said with embarrassment, "Uh, thanks."
The guard still frowned at them, and checked his list of overnight guests again. "You're brothers?"
Michael blushed and made an excuse, "He--he got scared, about being in prison. He's been shanked before and, uh, traumatized."
The guard shrugged and continued on, to wake up the rest of the incarcerated guests.
GOB's sobs finally subsided, and he just lay in bed, watching Michael dress. Michael wouldn't look at him, just hurrying to go find his son.
Since that night in the prison, GOB had continued to blatantly harass Michael. He even had an erection during one of their intimate hugs, and Michael uncomfortably ignored it. He encouraged GOB to stick with his Christian girlfriend and to be a father to Steve Holt. Michael hoped that having a girlfriend would keep GOB occupied, even if he did not totally reform.
But of course, Michael had expected too much of GOB, and the girlfriend turned out to be George Michael's ex-girlfriend. So if anything, GOB had become more, not less, depraved.
Michael sighed and shook his head sadly. Maybe there really was no way to have a normal, brotherly relationship with GOB. Maybe it would always be warped. Given their childhood, how could it not be?
Michael resolved to do everything he could to spare George Michael and Maeby from having such an inappropriate relationship. He hoped that Lindsay and Dad were watching over them carefully now.