Summary: This scene starts just after the scene where Hart is in the bar and Matthews has introduced her to his date. The story is just my little attempt to explain how the Gracie/Eric relationship comes about. I hope you like it - it's my first ever fanfic, so all feedback will be appreciated
Disclaimer: None of the characters from Miss Congeniality belong to me, so please don't sue etc - This is just for fun
Rating: PG-13, just to be safe for future chapters, but at the moment it must be G
Chapter 1: The Date
From where we're sitting I can just see Hart, still at the bar wolfing down her Ben & Jerry's like her life depends on it.
'Eric. Eric, what are you looking at? Eric?,' suddenly I notice the voice calling my name and turn my attention away from Hart to the blond in front of me. 'Beth,' I say, flashing one of my practiced smiles. 'Sorry, bit distracted, work – you know, this new op…' I'm floundering and I know it, I just hope that she doesn't notice and that she buys my explanation. Then I realise that she'd never notice – she's just not the 'noticing' type. Hart, on the other hand, she'd have spotted my change of mood immediately. Spotted it and located the cause of my distraction. Which is exactly why I date girls like Beth and not the likes of Gracie Hart, however much I might want to. Want to? I suddenly stop and wonder at my train of thought, but I realise that it's the simple truth. I really DO want to date Gracie Hart, but not for the reasons I date Beth or any other girl. I smile at Beth while secretly glancing over her and across to my right where Hart looks like she is nearing the end of her ice cream fest. She is a wreck, in her stained shirt with her messed up hair, but she is talking animatedly to the barman, no doubt having another of her 'heated discussions'. Suddenly she smiles, not the practised smiles that Beth and I are so good at, but a full-on 10,000megawatt smile and the barman grins back at her. Then she gets up and leaves. I return my attention to Beth who has been chatting away quite happily – my only contribution to the conversation being the occasional 'um,' 'ah,' or 'really'. For the first time in my life, I allow myself to acknowledge the truth. I've always liked to think that I had the whole dating thing sorted, that I was in control. Afterall, I asked out the girls and, in the end, I was the one that ended the relationship – while they'd be left wanting me back. Tonight, I realise that these girls, Beth and all those before her, are not in my power. To them, I am as much of a trophy or a toy as they are to me. Let's face it, she's an undergrad at Vasser, she can show off in front of her friends about dating an FBI agent, much the same way that I flaut the fact that I'm seeing a young student. I'm not real to her, anymore than she's real to me, and for the first time I appreciate the value of all those heated discussions I have with Hart – at least they show that she's paying attention, that she actually gives a damn. And at least her rare smiles are real.
Abruptly, I get up. Beth looks up at me, startled. I realise that my behaviour probably seems somewhat strange and try to smooth things over. 'Early start tomorrow, got lots of reading up to do for this new op,' I say to her. 'Oh,' she says, not trying to hide her disappointment, 'I thought we'd be going back to your place, I haven't seen it yet'. 'Maybe some other time,' I reply, as I move with her towards the door. We walk in silence down the street and I feel grateful that her place is so close by. When we get there, she invites me in. I remind her about those reports I need to read. 'Maybe tomorrow?' she asks. 'I don't think so,' I say, 'the assignment is out of town, so I might not be back for a while.' She nods, showing that she understands not to wait for a call when I get back. I say goodnight and leave to go home. For once, I am genuinely alone.
At home, I pour myself a drink and try to understand exactly what happened tonight. Part of myself is kicking myself that I let a gorgeous young thing like Beth get away. Hey, I've been chasing women for years and I'm not about to pretend that actually I'm a tortured soul or that I was just using these women as substitutes for Gracie Hart. I've always prided myself on being rational – a very useful quality when working with Gracie Hart who sometimes appears to operate purely on emotion rather than fact – just think back to that last op where she put her life on the line just because she thought that choking on a peanut would've been too good a death for that Russian. Being rational, I have to wonder at my actions tonight. Here I am, alone in my apartment when I could've been halfway to heaven with Beth as my willing accomplice. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time, so what had changed this time, I wondered as I paced around my apartment drink in hand. I had, I realised, or rather, I hadn't. I was still the same guy and I still wanted the same things – and gorgeous women were still very high on that list. What had changed was the spec of the women and the price I was prepared to pay for those things. To put it in car terms, I had gone from being happy with ANY fast, attractive car, to wanting a Ferrari or a Jag. You know, a car which has speed, looks AND personality. And I was prepared to wait, to spend my nights alone, as I was spending tonight, until I found that elusive blend. I sank into the nearest chair and realised that this would probably be the first of many lonely nights. I tried to remember how I'd got myself into this situation, questioning what I'd previously considered to be my perfect lifestyle and then I remembered Gracie Hart and that incredible smile. But I realise that it's late and not being given to introspection, I decide that I've had more than enough for one night. Gracie Hart and her role in my current predicament will have to wait for another night. Right now, I'm going to sleep – I wasn't lying to Beth when I said that this op is consuming me. It's the first one I've run and I just hope it all turns out ok.