A/N: Wow, I gots a lot of reviews for this story! I mean relatively. You like me, you really like me! *coughYEAHRIGHTcough* But, even if no one was that eager for more, I just couldn't resist continuing the story. I know, it's not incredibly funny now, but just wait. I'm planning all sorts of mayhem. Just trust me on this one, okay? It's not just some cheesy, sappy, romantic garbage. It's genuine, bona fide comedy. All right? After all, that's what 'Just Shoot Me' is: comedy. And I plan to stick to what works.
By the way, did you check out that picture of Finch I drew? If you didn't, the URL is at the end of the last chapter. If you did, what the heck!? How come you didn't review? Come onnnn, I'll give you this shiny penny!
Ciao
a 'Just Shoot Me' fanfiction
by Wakizashi
Friday, 9:36 A.M.
Maya Gallo awoke to the sound of a fist hitting her desk with a jarring impact. Her head shot straight up, which promptly caused her to become slightly dizzy. As she blinked rapidly to dispel the fuzz, her eyes came into focus on the diminutive form of Finch, slumped in the chair in front of her. Unless her vision was still blurry, she swore that he looked depressed. Maya had seen Finch in almost every mood: mischievous, terrified, irritated, enraged, flirtatious(admittedly more often toward her than she'd care to think about)-- but never depressed. There had to be something serious going on if Dennis Finch was down in the dumps.
She frowned. "Finch, are you okay?"
To say that he jumped would have been an understatement. He gasped, flying at least ten inches out of the chair, knocking her stapler on the floor with his arm as he did so. "Maya!" he said with a high-pitched, nervous laugh. "What's up? Hey, you're awake, are you feeling any better? Elliott said you were sick."
She stretched, her neck popping loudly. "Yeah, that's um... That's what I wanted to talk to you about," she said hesitantly. It was inexplicably sweet of Finch to offer to help her with her article, and if he was in a bad mood, she sure wasn't too eager to make it worse. But still, it had to be said. "Look, Finch," she began, choosing her words carefully. "I really appreciate you wanting to help me, but--"
"Gah, I knew it, there's a 'but'!" he interjected, throwing his hands up in the air.
"*But*," she continued, his bad mood forgotten for the moment as she refused to be diverted, "I don't think I'll be able to make the trip to your grandmother's house. I was awake all last night with a fever, and I barely even made it into work today. This medicine is making me all lightheaded, I can't even think straight, and I think I'm just going to go home early." She took a deep breath, ignoring his sour expression. "I'm really sorry, but there's nothing I can do about it."
Finch sighed and stood up, circumnavigating her desk until he stopped next to her chair. "Maya, Maya, Maya," he said sadly, patting her head. "You're forgetting you have a deadline. If you don't come with me tomorrow, you're never going to find someone else to interview on time." Maya opened her mouth to argue, but he rested his fingers on her lips to silence her. "So-- eww." He remembered her illness and jerked his hand away. "So this is your only chance, am I right?"
She had to admit, the only possibility of getting an interview rested on Finch's grandmother. "Okay, you're right," she said wearily. "But are you really sure you want to spend a whole weekend with me like this? My nose is stuffed up. I'm all congested, do you hear that?"
He grinned and shook his head. "Doh, Baya, it's dot thad bad."
"Shut up!" She punched him weakly in the arm, and he drew back in simulated pain.
"Whoa there, Iron Maya, take it easy! But seriously, it's all in your head. You don't sound any different. Still," he added, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead, "you don't look too good, and I don't know if I like the idea of you driving home whacked out on those pills." He frowned in thought. "Tell you what. Get your coat, and I'll take you home."
Maya straightened to full attention. "No, Finch, you don't have to--"
"Up-up-up-up, I insist. We wouldn't want you nodding off at the wheel and driving into the side of a Burger King. Now come on, on your feet."
She rose shakily and, with Finch's help, pulled on her coat. She paused, staring off into space, and wondered if she was forgetting anything. It came to her suddenly. "What about my car?" she blurted.
"Give me the keys. I'll drive it." The keys were surrendered, and he gave her a light thump on the back. "You go down to the garage, and I'll meet you there. I'm gonna go tell Jack you're leaving early."
Nodding blearily, she watched his blond head disappear out the door. She merely stood for a while, lost in a fuzziness that had nothing to do with the cold medicine. Ever since last night, Finch had begun to show a thoughtfulness that had virtually no roots at that devious, self-centered core of his. Maya wasn't entirely sure whether to think it was her unsteady condition that was warping her perception, or if Finch was really turning over a new leaf. However, it was much safer to assume he was up to something.
Finally she stumbled her way out of her office and somehow made it onto the elevator. Pushing the button for the parking garage, she leaned back against the wall of the elevator car and closed her eyes.
"Yoo-hoo! Maya, you down here?"
Maya rose up from where she was sitting against her car and waved her arm half-heartedly. "Yeah, I'm over here," she replied, brushing off her skirt. Finch weaved his way between the other cars and, tripping over an empty carton of Chinese food, came to join her.
"By the way, you forgot these," he said, placing the container of medicine in one hand and a bottle of juice in the other.
She eyed the latter for a moment. "Juice?"
"Mm-hmm." He unlocked the passenger door and opened it for her. As she climbed inside, he went around the car and got in behind the wheel. "I looked in the fridge for some orange juice, but we only had that starfruit-kiwi-strawberry crap. I tell you, Blush is great at having exactly what you don't want." He glanced at her and started the engine, backing out of the parking space. "Oh well, juice is juice. Drink up. The more liquids the better when you're sick."
*The last person who told me that was my mother,* Maya reflected absently as Finch pulled out of the garage and onto the street. As much as she would have enjoyed the ride home in a comfortable silence, her chauffeur apparently thought it easier to make idle chat the entire way to her apartment.
"So Jack asks me to go down and pick up Hannah at her ballet practice dealie, right?" he said, accelerating as the light at the intersection turned green. Maya observed distractedly how surprisingly capable a driver he was. "Ugh, these tourist morons. Learn to drive, you freakin'-- Wait, what was I saying? Right, so I go to the dance studio to get Hannah, and the instructor(she's really hot, by the way, but I doubt you care) is all, 'I'm sorry, but I was told her father, Mr. Gallo, would be here.' The fact that Hannah's claiming she knows me isn't important, I guess. So all these little half-pints in leotards are accusing me of being a kidnapper, and they're making so much racket that the self-defense class next door hears them! I swear, those women may have looked like English teachers, but it was like they could smell fear. I had sore ribs for a week."
Maya snorted with laughter, nearly spraying juice all over the dashboard. He looked over at her and smiled, his blue eyes gleaming with that sinister cheerfulness that was so undeniably Finch. Whatever had been wrong with him in her office earlier, he had recovered from it. She was glad.
"Keep it in the mouth, dearie," he said, laughing along with her. "That reminds me, if you mess up the interior of my car tomorrow, you're cleaning it up, and I don't care if you're so sick that you're bleeding out your ears."
She rolled her eyes. "How caring of you."
"Certainly."
Before she was even aware of how close they were to her home, Finch pulled up in front of her stoop and scrambled around the car to help her out. She accepted the keys from his hand, and declined the offer to walk her to her apartment door. She stopped abruptly when she took in his lack of a ride back to the office. "Finch, how are you going to get back to work?"
"No problem, I'll take a cab." He walked out to the edge of the sidewalk and raised his arm. "Later, Maya! Feel better and all that!"
She bit her lip, lingering at the foot of the steps. "Wait!" she finally called, racing down the walkway to catch him. A taxi had halted in front of him, but he turned around and looked at her expectantly. "I never thanked you for doing this... For taking me home, for helping me with my article. I really owe you."
He smiled slightly. "It's seriously no big deal. But you're welcome anyway."
On an impulse, she stepped forward and hugged him gratefully. He rested his hands on her back, repositioning them awkwardly as though he wasn't sure what to do with them. When she pulled away, he cleared his throat and grinned that rakish grin of his. "Ooh, Ma-YAH, gettin' a little handsy, are we?" he said, wiggling his eyebrows. She sighed wearily, and he patted her back. "Kidding. I'm kidding. But anyway, before my ride abandons me, I'll see you bright and early tomorrow, okay?" She nodded, and he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Ciao!" he called as he climbed into the back of the cab.
Watching the yellow car until it disappeared from sight, Maya stood on the sidewalk, stunned by that last thunderbolt. After a full three minutes of standing around blushing, she finally staggered up the steps, down the hallway, and to the door of her apartment. She shrugged out of her coat, turned on the faucet of her bathtub, threw her clothes on the bathroom floor, and climbed in. She lay there for a while, breathing the steam, then began to scrub herself clean. When the time came, however, to wash her face, she found she did not want to do so. Instead, her hand raised of its own accord and rested lightly on her cheek.
This was an unexpected development.
A/N: Whooo, now we's gettin' somewhere, aren't we? Now this chapter was considerably more fun to write than the first two. I particularly enjoyed Finch's little anecdote about getting waled on by a bunch of self-defense students. But my personal favorite part of the chapter was da kiss. Wretchedly adorable, no? Just like Finch, hahah... Never mind. I'm strange. Anyway, if you like, leave a review. If you don't like, HOW COME? *bursts into tears* You know I'm sensitive! Ahem, but seriously, review if you'd like more. Actually, heh, just between you and me, I'm continuing whether you like it or not. But it'd be a nice gesture on your part to review anyway. Much obliged!
Wakizashi
tricksparrow@hotmail.com
By the way, did you check out that picture of Finch I drew? If you didn't, the URL is at the end of the last chapter. If you did, what the heck!? How come you didn't review? Come onnnn, I'll give you this shiny penny!
Ciao
a 'Just Shoot Me' fanfiction
by Wakizashi
Friday, 9:36 A.M.
Maya Gallo awoke to the sound of a fist hitting her desk with a jarring impact. Her head shot straight up, which promptly caused her to become slightly dizzy. As she blinked rapidly to dispel the fuzz, her eyes came into focus on the diminutive form of Finch, slumped in the chair in front of her. Unless her vision was still blurry, she swore that he looked depressed. Maya had seen Finch in almost every mood: mischievous, terrified, irritated, enraged, flirtatious(admittedly more often toward her than she'd care to think about)-- but never depressed. There had to be something serious going on if Dennis Finch was down in the dumps.
She frowned. "Finch, are you okay?"
To say that he jumped would have been an understatement. He gasped, flying at least ten inches out of the chair, knocking her stapler on the floor with his arm as he did so. "Maya!" he said with a high-pitched, nervous laugh. "What's up? Hey, you're awake, are you feeling any better? Elliott said you were sick."
She stretched, her neck popping loudly. "Yeah, that's um... That's what I wanted to talk to you about," she said hesitantly. It was inexplicably sweet of Finch to offer to help her with her article, and if he was in a bad mood, she sure wasn't too eager to make it worse. But still, it had to be said. "Look, Finch," she began, choosing her words carefully. "I really appreciate you wanting to help me, but--"
"Gah, I knew it, there's a 'but'!" he interjected, throwing his hands up in the air.
"*But*," she continued, his bad mood forgotten for the moment as she refused to be diverted, "I don't think I'll be able to make the trip to your grandmother's house. I was awake all last night with a fever, and I barely even made it into work today. This medicine is making me all lightheaded, I can't even think straight, and I think I'm just going to go home early." She took a deep breath, ignoring his sour expression. "I'm really sorry, but there's nothing I can do about it."
Finch sighed and stood up, circumnavigating her desk until he stopped next to her chair. "Maya, Maya, Maya," he said sadly, patting her head. "You're forgetting you have a deadline. If you don't come with me tomorrow, you're never going to find someone else to interview on time." Maya opened her mouth to argue, but he rested his fingers on her lips to silence her. "So-- eww." He remembered her illness and jerked his hand away. "So this is your only chance, am I right?"
She had to admit, the only possibility of getting an interview rested on Finch's grandmother. "Okay, you're right," she said wearily. "But are you really sure you want to spend a whole weekend with me like this? My nose is stuffed up. I'm all congested, do you hear that?"
He grinned and shook his head. "Doh, Baya, it's dot thad bad."
"Shut up!" She punched him weakly in the arm, and he drew back in simulated pain.
"Whoa there, Iron Maya, take it easy! But seriously, it's all in your head. You don't sound any different. Still," he added, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead, "you don't look too good, and I don't know if I like the idea of you driving home whacked out on those pills." He frowned in thought. "Tell you what. Get your coat, and I'll take you home."
Maya straightened to full attention. "No, Finch, you don't have to--"
"Up-up-up-up, I insist. We wouldn't want you nodding off at the wheel and driving into the side of a Burger King. Now come on, on your feet."
She rose shakily and, with Finch's help, pulled on her coat. She paused, staring off into space, and wondered if she was forgetting anything. It came to her suddenly. "What about my car?" she blurted.
"Give me the keys. I'll drive it." The keys were surrendered, and he gave her a light thump on the back. "You go down to the garage, and I'll meet you there. I'm gonna go tell Jack you're leaving early."
Nodding blearily, she watched his blond head disappear out the door. She merely stood for a while, lost in a fuzziness that had nothing to do with the cold medicine. Ever since last night, Finch had begun to show a thoughtfulness that had virtually no roots at that devious, self-centered core of his. Maya wasn't entirely sure whether to think it was her unsteady condition that was warping her perception, or if Finch was really turning over a new leaf. However, it was much safer to assume he was up to something.
Finally she stumbled her way out of her office and somehow made it onto the elevator. Pushing the button for the parking garage, she leaned back against the wall of the elevator car and closed her eyes.
"Yoo-hoo! Maya, you down here?"
Maya rose up from where she was sitting against her car and waved her arm half-heartedly. "Yeah, I'm over here," she replied, brushing off her skirt. Finch weaved his way between the other cars and, tripping over an empty carton of Chinese food, came to join her.
"By the way, you forgot these," he said, placing the container of medicine in one hand and a bottle of juice in the other.
She eyed the latter for a moment. "Juice?"
"Mm-hmm." He unlocked the passenger door and opened it for her. As she climbed inside, he went around the car and got in behind the wheel. "I looked in the fridge for some orange juice, but we only had that starfruit-kiwi-strawberry crap. I tell you, Blush is great at having exactly what you don't want." He glanced at her and started the engine, backing out of the parking space. "Oh well, juice is juice. Drink up. The more liquids the better when you're sick."
*The last person who told me that was my mother,* Maya reflected absently as Finch pulled out of the garage and onto the street. As much as she would have enjoyed the ride home in a comfortable silence, her chauffeur apparently thought it easier to make idle chat the entire way to her apartment.
"So Jack asks me to go down and pick up Hannah at her ballet practice dealie, right?" he said, accelerating as the light at the intersection turned green. Maya observed distractedly how surprisingly capable a driver he was. "Ugh, these tourist morons. Learn to drive, you freakin'-- Wait, what was I saying? Right, so I go to the dance studio to get Hannah, and the instructor(she's really hot, by the way, but I doubt you care) is all, 'I'm sorry, but I was told her father, Mr. Gallo, would be here.' The fact that Hannah's claiming she knows me isn't important, I guess. So all these little half-pints in leotards are accusing me of being a kidnapper, and they're making so much racket that the self-defense class next door hears them! I swear, those women may have looked like English teachers, but it was like they could smell fear. I had sore ribs for a week."
Maya snorted with laughter, nearly spraying juice all over the dashboard. He looked over at her and smiled, his blue eyes gleaming with that sinister cheerfulness that was so undeniably Finch. Whatever had been wrong with him in her office earlier, he had recovered from it. She was glad.
"Keep it in the mouth, dearie," he said, laughing along with her. "That reminds me, if you mess up the interior of my car tomorrow, you're cleaning it up, and I don't care if you're so sick that you're bleeding out your ears."
She rolled her eyes. "How caring of you."
"Certainly."
Before she was even aware of how close they were to her home, Finch pulled up in front of her stoop and scrambled around the car to help her out. She accepted the keys from his hand, and declined the offer to walk her to her apartment door. She stopped abruptly when she took in his lack of a ride back to the office. "Finch, how are you going to get back to work?"
"No problem, I'll take a cab." He walked out to the edge of the sidewalk and raised his arm. "Later, Maya! Feel better and all that!"
She bit her lip, lingering at the foot of the steps. "Wait!" she finally called, racing down the walkway to catch him. A taxi had halted in front of him, but he turned around and looked at her expectantly. "I never thanked you for doing this... For taking me home, for helping me with my article. I really owe you."
He smiled slightly. "It's seriously no big deal. But you're welcome anyway."
On an impulse, she stepped forward and hugged him gratefully. He rested his hands on her back, repositioning them awkwardly as though he wasn't sure what to do with them. When she pulled away, he cleared his throat and grinned that rakish grin of his. "Ooh, Ma-YAH, gettin' a little handsy, are we?" he said, wiggling his eyebrows. She sighed wearily, and he patted her back. "Kidding. I'm kidding. But anyway, before my ride abandons me, I'll see you bright and early tomorrow, okay?" She nodded, and he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Ciao!" he called as he climbed into the back of the cab.
Watching the yellow car until it disappeared from sight, Maya stood on the sidewalk, stunned by that last thunderbolt. After a full three minutes of standing around blushing, she finally staggered up the steps, down the hallway, and to the door of her apartment. She shrugged out of her coat, turned on the faucet of her bathtub, threw her clothes on the bathroom floor, and climbed in. She lay there for a while, breathing the steam, then began to scrub herself clean. When the time came, however, to wash her face, she found she did not want to do so. Instead, her hand raised of its own accord and rested lightly on her cheek.
This was an unexpected development.
A/N: Whooo, now we's gettin' somewhere, aren't we? Now this chapter was considerably more fun to write than the first two. I particularly enjoyed Finch's little anecdote about getting waled on by a bunch of self-defense students. But my personal favorite part of the chapter was da kiss. Wretchedly adorable, no? Just like Finch, hahah... Never mind. I'm strange. Anyway, if you like, leave a review. If you don't like, HOW COME? *bursts into tears* You know I'm sensitive! Ahem, but seriously, review if you'd like more. Actually, heh, just between you and me, I'm continuing whether you like it or not. But it'd be a nice gesture on your part to review anyway. Much obliged!
Wakizashi
tricksparrow@hotmail.com