A/N: Wow, I got an inspiring two reviews for my last chapter. *sniffle sniffle* What happened? Oh well, it might be due to the fact that Fanfiction.net shut down for a while to update... stuff. Anyway, I thought I'd start on my next chapter, seeing as how there's nothing else to do. You get used to that sort of thing when you live in Oregon.
Oh, and I just realized something alarming: I haven't even put a disclaimer in my story. Steven Levitan could 'Just Sue Me' if he wanted to! Forgive my absent-mindedness, if you will. So. Disclaimer: I do not own 'Just Shoot Me' or any of its elements or characters(or Finch, unfortunately). So if anyone from NBC asks, leave my name out of your conversation.
Ciao
a 'Just Shoot Me' fanfiction
by Wakizashi
Saturday, 8:48 A.M.
Dennis Finch laughed. "Hey Maya. You know what's a really weird word?"
"I don't know," she replied, smiling that smile of hers with the little gap between her two front teeth that made her so unique. "Why don't you tell me?"
"Heretofore." Her smile widened, though one dark eyebrow shot up. "I mean, who uses that word? I've never heard any normal person, heretofore, use this word outside a courtroom hearing."
Maya shook her head, laughing. "What made you think of that?"
"No idea. But you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I guess so," she said, turning down the volume on the cd player. Finch had to admit, it wasn't very easy to carry on a conversation, even a pointless one, when Shirley Manson was wailing in their ears about being happy when it rains. Maya leaned back in her seat and stretched. "How about 'inasmuch'?"
He nodded, grinning. "There's a good one. Or 'whosoever'."
Laughing again, Maya sat up straight and put on a serious face. "Inasmuch as the word 'heretofore' is never used by the average person, whosoever uses it shall henceforward be known as an idiot."
"Brilliant!" declared Finch, breaking down in yet another fit of laughter with her. "See, that's why you're the articles editor and I'm the boss's trained monkey."
Maya leaned back once again and crossed her legs, smiling arrogantly. Finch was so grateful she wasn't irritated at him anymore. He had to admit, it was his fault to begin with; if he hadn't been so brusque with her, she wouldn't have gotten angry at him. In truth, Finch had been so crushed by Jack's words the day before that he almost could not bear the sight of Maya, and when the time came to pick her up, he found the only way to respond to her was with scorn. But it was not her fault that he had been forbidden to pursue a relationship with her. She didn't deserve such harsh treatment.
Finch now knew that his feelings for Maya could never be revealed to her, and that all hopes of dating her had been dissolved before his eyes. The only thing he had left was her friendship, and he was not going to lose that.
"You know," she suddenly said, bringing him out of his thoughts, "I could never do this with Elliott."
He frowned. "Do what?"
"Goof off." She folded her arms over her chest. "I could never be a total nerd when I was around Elliott, because I knew he would make fun of me or think I was childish. But when I'm with you, I can just be myself, because I know--"
"You know I'm an even bigger nerd than you are?" he finished, grinning at her.
She smiled back, rolling her eyes. "Not exactly, but something like that."
"Well," he continued, "I figure if you can't be yourself around someone, how can you expect to have a relationship with them?"
Maya nodded thoughtfully, and his grip tightened on the steering wheel. *Bonding with Maya,* he thought regretfully, trying to keep his eyes on the road in front of him. *Too bad it won't do me any good.* Taking an enormous risk, he glanced back at her and shrugged. "I'm not sure what it's worth, coming from a guy like me, but... Elliott never deserved you."
She sat still for a while, refusing to break eye contact with him. Finch was beginning to think that was probably the most idiotic thing he could have said, and was wondering how long he could keep driving without plowing into an oncoming car or into the guardrail, when she finally spoke.
"You really think so?"
"Uh... yeah." He quickly locked his eyes onto the road, trying vainly to make his voice sound casual, laid-back, slightly indifferent, as if she had been the one to start the whole conversation. "I mean, the guy's so terrified of commitment that he sweats blood at the sound of wedding bells. Sure, he did love you, that was obvious. But for him to propose to you and then have an anxiety attack... I just couldn't believe him. You're so much better than that, and you didn't deserve it. No one does."
*Good God, I've done it now.*
He stole a fleeting glance at her, and to his infinite surprise, she was smiling. "Wow, Finch," she said, her brown eyes filled with astonishment. "You never told me that was how you felt."
He gave her a weak grin. "Yeah, but you know me," he heard himself saying. "I have a hard time expressing my feelings in words." He felt like pulling the tape out of a cassette and strangling himself with it. Why did he only say what he felt in front of Maya, of all people!?
Suddenly he felt her hand on his shoulder, and his breath caught in his throat. He felt his head turn slowly toward her, and as always, he was struck dumb by the amount of compassion that shone in her lovely dark eyes. Momentarily stunned, Finch thought it typical that it was only after he had been so cruelly denied a chance at ever winning Maya that he was beginning to become close with her. The irony was definitely not lost on him. Life truly sucked sometimes.
As he tried to gain control of the blush that was creeping up his neck, Maya smiled again. "Well, I'm glad you feel you can speak your mind when you're with me. It's more than Elliott ever did."
Finch opened his mouth to respond, most likely with a string of incoherent nonsense, when the sound of the engine struggling caught his attention. His eyes shot to the console, and his brow furrowed. "Oh, fantastic," he muttered.
"What?" asked Maya, alarmed.
"The engine's running hot," he replied, twisting the wheel and pulling onto the shoulder. "And I don't think that's the only problem." As the car lurched to a halt, he hit the hood release button and threw open the door. He heard the passenger door slam shut, and Maya joined him outside as he lifted the hood of his rolling garbage can. What he found made him want to scream.
Obviously aware of the murderous glint in his eyes, Maya asked, "What's wrong? What is it?"
"The transmission is what's wrong," he said, scowling. "This'll be four times that I've had to get it fixed now. I swear, one day I'm just going to blow up this damn wreck and collect the insurance money. Of course, I'd have to rip out the stereo first." He pulled his cell phone out of the deep pocket of his khakis and sighed, leaning against the steel deathtrap that was his only means of transportation. "You might as well get back in the car. It'll be a while before the tow truck gets here."
Instead of waiting in the station wagon, Maya had chosen to stay outside in the brisk autumn morning with Finch as he fought the impending nervous breakdown that was always eager to accompany him on a doomed outing such as this. She blew her nose frequently, and Finch had been worried that she would become sicker if she sat on the cold asphalt road much longer. But she had refused to leave him, and he was secretly thankful that she had stayed. He truly believed that something would have snapped in him, and he would have started kicking additional dents into the car or screaming at the sky if she had not been there as a soothing force.
And when the tow truck finally arrived an hour and a half later(apparently the business had only one at their disposal at the moment), Maya had calmly retrieved her purse from the car and ushered Finch to the truck's cabin, although he would have much rather gotten into an argument with the driver as to what had taken him so long. Still, as he had closed his eyes in irritation, she had climbed into the truck beside him and squeezed his hand, and he was again grateful for her presence.
So grateful, in fact, that he could almost excuse the driver's partiality to Dolly Parton music. Almost.
The nearest town was Monticello, New York. Population: sixteen old people and a cow. Or at least, that's what it felt like to Finch, who had never felt so far away from... anything in his life. It was true; he was too accustomed to life in the big city, so any place that didn't have buildings whose tops scraped the stratosphere felt like a village on some desert island. Yes, he was a city slicker.
Fortunately Monticello had among its meager collection of houses, gas stations, and thrift stores a small auto repair shop that had the audacity to make Finch and Maya sit another forty-five minutes in the waiting room watching 'The Partridge Family' on an ancient television set as the mechanics poked and puzzled over his car, assessing the damage. It took all the self-control Finch had to keep his fist from colliding with Danny Partridge's pixilated face.
At last the repair shop's greasiest mechanic emerged from the garage to inform him that, indeed, it *was* the transmission. Finch's eye began to twitch as he was given the estimate on repairs.
"You're kidding me, right?" he managed to sputter. "You want me to pay six hundred and seventy-five dollars!? That's more than that old rattletrap is even worth!"
Maya rose out of the torn chair she was sitting in. "Finch, calm down..."
"No, Maya, I think I've stayed reasonably calm through this whole nightmare, and besides, I have the right to be angry, don't I?" He waved the slip of paper which had the estimate typed on it in front of the mechanic's face, who was admittedly much larger than him. "This is literally highway robbery. Do you honestly expect me to pay this?"
"Look, buddy, your car's in serious trouble. I can't make any guarantees, but that's how much the repairs are gonna cost, whether you agree with it or not." The mechanic clenched and unclenched his meaty fists, as if he was itching to swipe his little customer's wallet and throw him through the window, but Finch was too enraged to concentrate on his own well-being.
In contrast, Maya remained serenely indifferent at the entire situation as she came forward and put a restraining hand on his arm. "Please, Finch. We have no other choice. Look, I don't approve of how much they're charging either, but there is no alternative."
He closed his eyes and sighed. Stupid Maya, always made him cave.
"Listen to your girlfriend, pal, and just let us do the repairs." Finch was briefly thrown off by the mechanic's assumption that he and Maya were... like *that*. "Get your stuff out of the car, and Frank will drive you to the Motel 6 down the road. We'll try to have it ready sometime tomorrow, but I can't make any guarantees."
"That seems to be your motto around here," Finch muttered. "All right, Maya, you win." He put one hand on the small of her back and led her out the door, casting one last glare at the beefy greasemonkey as they walked into the garage to retrieve their baggage. He was almost certain that she had blushed at the mechanic's statement when he assumed they were a couple.
But he couldn't make any guarantees.
A/N: I'm pretty sure everyone was expecting Finch's car to break down. Come on, you read the description of that metal beast, you knew it was coming. Looks like the little trip to Grandma's is going to have to be delayed. Oh well, the whole breaking down and having to stay in Monticello thing is just leading up to some very important... stuff that's going to happen in the next chapter. Oh and, if any of my readers live in or have been to Monticello, New York and have found that I have protrayed the town incorrectly, well... It's just a story, folks. No one said it had to be accurate down to the last detail. Anyway, review please! Please?
Wakizashi
tricksparrow@hotmail.com
Oh, and I just realized something alarming: I haven't even put a disclaimer in my story. Steven Levitan could 'Just Sue Me' if he wanted to! Forgive my absent-mindedness, if you will. So. Disclaimer: I do not own 'Just Shoot Me' or any of its elements or characters(or Finch, unfortunately). So if anyone from NBC asks, leave my name out of your conversation.
Ciao
a 'Just Shoot Me' fanfiction
by Wakizashi
Saturday, 8:48 A.M.
Dennis Finch laughed. "Hey Maya. You know what's a really weird word?"
"I don't know," she replied, smiling that smile of hers with the little gap between her two front teeth that made her so unique. "Why don't you tell me?"
"Heretofore." Her smile widened, though one dark eyebrow shot up. "I mean, who uses that word? I've never heard any normal person, heretofore, use this word outside a courtroom hearing."
Maya shook her head, laughing. "What made you think of that?"
"No idea. But you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I guess so," she said, turning down the volume on the cd player. Finch had to admit, it wasn't very easy to carry on a conversation, even a pointless one, when Shirley Manson was wailing in their ears about being happy when it rains. Maya leaned back in her seat and stretched. "How about 'inasmuch'?"
He nodded, grinning. "There's a good one. Or 'whosoever'."
Laughing again, Maya sat up straight and put on a serious face. "Inasmuch as the word 'heretofore' is never used by the average person, whosoever uses it shall henceforward be known as an idiot."
"Brilliant!" declared Finch, breaking down in yet another fit of laughter with her. "See, that's why you're the articles editor and I'm the boss's trained monkey."
Maya leaned back once again and crossed her legs, smiling arrogantly. Finch was so grateful she wasn't irritated at him anymore. He had to admit, it was his fault to begin with; if he hadn't been so brusque with her, she wouldn't have gotten angry at him. In truth, Finch had been so crushed by Jack's words the day before that he almost could not bear the sight of Maya, and when the time came to pick her up, he found the only way to respond to her was with scorn. But it was not her fault that he had been forbidden to pursue a relationship with her. She didn't deserve such harsh treatment.
Finch now knew that his feelings for Maya could never be revealed to her, and that all hopes of dating her had been dissolved before his eyes. The only thing he had left was her friendship, and he was not going to lose that.
"You know," she suddenly said, bringing him out of his thoughts, "I could never do this with Elliott."
He frowned. "Do what?"
"Goof off." She folded her arms over her chest. "I could never be a total nerd when I was around Elliott, because I knew he would make fun of me or think I was childish. But when I'm with you, I can just be myself, because I know--"
"You know I'm an even bigger nerd than you are?" he finished, grinning at her.
She smiled back, rolling her eyes. "Not exactly, but something like that."
"Well," he continued, "I figure if you can't be yourself around someone, how can you expect to have a relationship with them?"
Maya nodded thoughtfully, and his grip tightened on the steering wheel. *Bonding with Maya,* he thought regretfully, trying to keep his eyes on the road in front of him. *Too bad it won't do me any good.* Taking an enormous risk, he glanced back at her and shrugged. "I'm not sure what it's worth, coming from a guy like me, but... Elliott never deserved you."
She sat still for a while, refusing to break eye contact with him. Finch was beginning to think that was probably the most idiotic thing he could have said, and was wondering how long he could keep driving without plowing into an oncoming car or into the guardrail, when she finally spoke.
"You really think so?"
"Uh... yeah." He quickly locked his eyes onto the road, trying vainly to make his voice sound casual, laid-back, slightly indifferent, as if she had been the one to start the whole conversation. "I mean, the guy's so terrified of commitment that he sweats blood at the sound of wedding bells. Sure, he did love you, that was obvious. But for him to propose to you and then have an anxiety attack... I just couldn't believe him. You're so much better than that, and you didn't deserve it. No one does."
*Good God, I've done it now.*
He stole a fleeting glance at her, and to his infinite surprise, she was smiling. "Wow, Finch," she said, her brown eyes filled with astonishment. "You never told me that was how you felt."
He gave her a weak grin. "Yeah, but you know me," he heard himself saying. "I have a hard time expressing my feelings in words." He felt like pulling the tape out of a cassette and strangling himself with it. Why did he only say what he felt in front of Maya, of all people!?
Suddenly he felt her hand on his shoulder, and his breath caught in his throat. He felt his head turn slowly toward her, and as always, he was struck dumb by the amount of compassion that shone in her lovely dark eyes. Momentarily stunned, Finch thought it typical that it was only after he had been so cruelly denied a chance at ever winning Maya that he was beginning to become close with her. The irony was definitely not lost on him. Life truly sucked sometimes.
As he tried to gain control of the blush that was creeping up his neck, Maya smiled again. "Well, I'm glad you feel you can speak your mind when you're with me. It's more than Elliott ever did."
Finch opened his mouth to respond, most likely with a string of incoherent nonsense, when the sound of the engine struggling caught his attention. His eyes shot to the console, and his brow furrowed. "Oh, fantastic," he muttered.
"What?" asked Maya, alarmed.
"The engine's running hot," he replied, twisting the wheel and pulling onto the shoulder. "And I don't think that's the only problem." As the car lurched to a halt, he hit the hood release button and threw open the door. He heard the passenger door slam shut, and Maya joined him outside as he lifted the hood of his rolling garbage can. What he found made him want to scream.
Obviously aware of the murderous glint in his eyes, Maya asked, "What's wrong? What is it?"
"The transmission is what's wrong," he said, scowling. "This'll be four times that I've had to get it fixed now. I swear, one day I'm just going to blow up this damn wreck and collect the insurance money. Of course, I'd have to rip out the stereo first." He pulled his cell phone out of the deep pocket of his khakis and sighed, leaning against the steel deathtrap that was his only means of transportation. "You might as well get back in the car. It'll be a while before the tow truck gets here."
Instead of waiting in the station wagon, Maya had chosen to stay outside in the brisk autumn morning with Finch as he fought the impending nervous breakdown that was always eager to accompany him on a doomed outing such as this. She blew her nose frequently, and Finch had been worried that she would become sicker if she sat on the cold asphalt road much longer. But she had refused to leave him, and he was secretly thankful that she had stayed. He truly believed that something would have snapped in him, and he would have started kicking additional dents into the car or screaming at the sky if she had not been there as a soothing force.
And when the tow truck finally arrived an hour and a half later(apparently the business had only one at their disposal at the moment), Maya had calmly retrieved her purse from the car and ushered Finch to the truck's cabin, although he would have much rather gotten into an argument with the driver as to what had taken him so long. Still, as he had closed his eyes in irritation, she had climbed into the truck beside him and squeezed his hand, and he was again grateful for her presence.
So grateful, in fact, that he could almost excuse the driver's partiality to Dolly Parton music. Almost.
The nearest town was Monticello, New York. Population: sixteen old people and a cow. Or at least, that's what it felt like to Finch, who had never felt so far away from... anything in his life. It was true; he was too accustomed to life in the big city, so any place that didn't have buildings whose tops scraped the stratosphere felt like a village on some desert island. Yes, he was a city slicker.
Fortunately Monticello had among its meager collection of houses, gas stations, and thrift stores a small auto repair shop that had the audacity to make Finch and Maya sit another forty-five minutes in the waiting room watching 'The Partridge Family' on an ancient television set as the mechanics poked and puzzled over his car, assessing the damage. It took all the self-control Finch had to keep his fist from colliding with Danny Partridge's pixilated face.
At last the repair shop's greasiest mechanic emerged from the garage to inform him that, indeed, it *was* the transmission. Finch's eye began to twitch as he was given the estimate on repairs.
"You're kidding me, right?" he managed to sputter. "You want me to pay six hundred and seventy-five dollars!? That's more than that old rattletrap is even worth!"
Maya rose out of the torn chair she was sitting in. "Finch, calm down..."
"No, Maya, I think I've stayed reasonably calm through this whole nightmare, and besides, I have the right to be angry, don't I?" He waved the slip of paper which had the estimate typed on it in front of the mechanic's face, who was admittedly much larger than him. "This is literally highway robbery. Do you honestly expect me to pay this?"
"Look, buddy, your car's in serious trouble. I can't make any guarantees, but that's how much the repairs are gonna cost, whether you agree with it or not." The mechanic clenched and unclenched his meaty fists, as if he was itching to swipe his little customer's wallet and throw him through the window, but Finch was too enraged to concentrate on his own well-being.
In contrast, Maya remained serenely indifferent at the entire situation as she came forward and put a restraining hand on his arm. "Please, Finch. We have no other choice. Look, I don't approve of how much they're charging either, but there is no alternative."
He closed his eyes and sighed. Stupid Maya, always made him cave.
"Listen to your girlfriend, pal, and just let us do the repairs." Finch was briefly thrown off by the mechanic's assumption that he and Maya were... like *that*. "Get your stuff out of the car, and Frank will drive you to the Motel 6 down the road. We'll try to have it ready sometime tomorrow, but I can't make any guarantees."
"That seems to be your motto around here," Finch muttered. "All right, Maya, you win." He put one hand on the small of her back and led her out the door, casting one last glare at the beefy greasemonkey as they walked into the garage to retrieve their baggage. He was almost certain that she had blushed at the mechanic's statement when he assumed they were a couple.
But he couldn't make any guarantees.
A/N: I'm pretty sure everyone was expecting Finch's car to break down. Come on, you read the description of that metal beast, you knew it was coming. Looks like the little trip to Grandma's is going to have to be delayed. Oh well, the whole breaking down and having to stay in Monticello thing is just leading up to some very important... stuff that's going to happen in the next chapter. Oh and, if any of my readers live in or have been to Monticello, New York and have found that I have protrayed the town incorrectly, well... It's just a story, folks. No one said it had to be accurate down to the last detail. Anyway, review please! Please?
Wakizashi
tricksparrow@hotmail.com