It was Friday, and George had the flat to himself. Annabelle was off helping Ginny pick out baby clothes, so when he returned to the apartment after work, it was empty. He smiled in exasperation, hearing that she'd left the wireless on. She did that every now and again, but this time, with the place empty, he decided to leave it on. Taking a book off the shelf, he relaxed on the couch.
"Hey, Jude... Don't make it bad... Take a sad song, and make it better..."
He'd heard this song before. It was by a muggle band called The Beatles who all had awful hair.
"Hey, Jude... Don't be afraid... You were made to go out and get her... The minute you let her under your skin, then you begin to make it better..."
He shook his head, trying to shake an image of Annabelle from his mind as he forced himself to read his book.
"And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain. Don't carry the world upon your shoulders... For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool, by making his world a little colder..."
This was ridiculous. It was a song. He shouldn't be listening to it as though it were giving him directions. He'd made his decision: Annabelle was Fred's girl, and he wouldn't change that.
"Hey, Jude... Don't let me down... You have found her, now go and get her..."
Now George could almost see Fred giving him an exasperated look. "You've got a chance here, mate. Don't muck it up."
He shook his head. No. Annabelle was his housemate. Nothing more.
"You're bloody living together! For Merlin's sake, go!"
The door opened, startling him. "I'm back." Annabelle called, kicking the door closed behind her and putting her shopping bags on the table. "Oh, did I leave the radio on? Sorry, I'll just-"
"No, it's fine." he said quickly, standing. Now, George, go now! "Erm, I was actually wondering something."
She stopped what she was doing and looked at him curiously. "Yeah?"
You look like a chihuahua. Stop shaking and give her a reason to say yes. He leaned against the table, smirking at her. "I was just wondering if you wanted to go to dinner with the fabulous me tonight."
She blinked, then snorted. "Fabulous? Alright, yeah. Where are we going?"
"Oh, put on something slinky. I'll figure it out." he suggested.
She laughed again. "Okay. Oh, I bought this new dress that'll be perfect..." She grabbed one of the bags and headed off to her room, George watching her go with a raging heart. It was slowly sinking in. She'd said yes.
"Of course she said yes, dummy. You look just like me. Who could resist?"
"Naa na na nanana naaaa! Nanana naaaa! Hey, Jude!"
Then it occurred to him that he was still wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He rushed into his room to change and reemerged sporting khaki pants, a blue-striped button-down, and dress shoes. Just as he walked out, so did Annabelle. All he could do was stare.
Somehow, in the ten minutes she'd been in her room, she'd magically transformed into a goddess. Her dark blue dress ended above her knees and was loose from the bust on down, though it still showed her shape. The neckline was lower than what she normally wore, and there was a satin ribbon just beneath her bust. She wore a silver necklace with several thick chains and a few sparkling charms, which did nothing to help him look away from her chest. She'd thrown on a bit of unnecessary make-up and let her hair down so it fell in soft, light waves down her back. Then he reached her legs. Had they always been that long? And the three-inch silver heels were not helping his case.
He swallowed. "Erm, wow, Annie... You clean up..."
"Good?" she supplied.
"Fast." he said in amazement. "It's like-"
"Magic." she finished with a falsely amazed expression. "Who'd have thought?"
He gave her a look. "Very funny."
She looked him up and down, then seemed to be trying to hide a smile. "You cut your hair." she said, trying not to laugh.
"Yes." he said, sounding insulted as he tugged on a strand. "Why? Does it look funny?"
"No, it looks great." she said, the laughter barely being contained. "I just... didn't think you cared."
"I care!" he said indignantly.
"Where are we going, George?" she sighed exasperatedly.
"You'll see." he said, taking her arm and Apperating out of the apartment.
Annabelle stumbled a bit, and George caught her. "Whoa, steady there." he chuckled. "Haven't got your sea legs yet, I see."
She blinked and looked around. They were on an oceanfront street with little shops and houses everywhere. There were party lights strung up along the road as though the place was eternally celebrating something, and every restaurant had party lights in it, too.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"Just a little town by the sea." he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and leading her into one of the restaurants. "Table for two, please." he requested.
"Certainly, sir. Right this way." said the maitre d, leading them to a small table in the middle of the room. There was a candle on the table providing soft light. The rest of the light was given off by Chinese lanterns strung up around the room.
"This place is beautiful." she murmured.
"I hadn't noticed." George said, looking at her.
She blushed as the maitre d set down menus and promised to send a server out for them. "Wow. I haven't been on a date in... Merlin knows how long." she said.
"Well, it's about time, then, eh?" he said, opening his menu. He snorted and put on a snooty voice as he looked at the entrees. "What would you like tonight, madame? We have lobster tortellini, baked tilapia sauteed with mushrooms, fresh coral flounder, and hand-breaded butterfly shrimp served with our home made cabbage salad."
She giggled, then immediately stopped when their waiter came up. "Hello, welcome to the Silver Oyster. What can I get you to drink?"
The two looked at each other, biting their lips to keep from laughing. The waiter spoke in the exact same voice George had been using moments ago. "Er, we'll have a bottle of the Chardonnay, please." he said, laughing as he said it and passing it off as a cough.
"Right away, sir."
They waited until he was gone, then burst out laughing. "What are the odds?" he said.
"He sounds like a butler." she insisted. "Like he should be taking my coat and telling me to sit like a lady."
"So what do you want, anyway?" he asked, returning to the menu. "There's a lot of good stuff here."
"Oh, I don't know, it all looks... expensive." she said, brow furrowing.
"Oh, don't worry about it." he assured her. "I haven't spent money on very much of anything in the last two years, so there's a lot saved up."
"But still-"
"Annie," he interrupted, putting a hand on hers. "It's a date. I'm paying for dinner whether you like it or not."
She made a face, but returned to looking at the menu.
"Your wine, sir." said the waiter, returning with the Chardonnay.
"Thank you." George said, mouth twitching slightly.
"Are you ready to order?"
They both nodded, so he took out his pen and a pad of paper. "I'll have the seafood scampi." George said.
"And I'll have the baked tilapia." Annabelle said, handing him her menu.
"Excellent choices." he said as he walked away.
. . .
It was eleven o' clock when the two stumbled out of the restaurant. Well, George supported a stumbling Annabelle as they walked down the street. "You can not handle your liquor." he chuckled.
"I drank half the bottle by myself!" she laughed. "You can't hold that against me."
"No, no I can't." he agreed. "Besides, you're cute when you're tipsy."
"Hmm, thank you." she giggled, poking his nose in a very adorable fashion.
"Come on, let's go home." he said, turning and Apperating back to the apartment.
He helped Annabelle stumble to her room, but when she got to the door she turned and pressed her back against it. "Does this date end with a kiss?" she asked, gently tugging the front of his shirt.
He looked at her for a moment, her face glowing with happiness, the sparkle in her forest-green eyes, the genuine, care-free smile. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth against hers. It wasn't deep, and it was fairly short, but it gave him a feeling like an electrical shock, and he was sure his hair was standing on end. She smiled up at him, then turned the knob and disappeared back into her room, leaving George to do a silent victory dance on his way to bed.
