Chapter 6: (Sorry I haven't been keeping track)
Mason was the first to arrive at Der Waffle Haus; Rube was, needless to say, extremely surprised. As Rube got closer, he frowned and scrunched his nose. Mason looked awful and smelled like wine.
"You look like shit," he stated, sitting down and taking the rubber band off his brown, leather notebook. "You smell like booze. You been drinking? George is gonna be angry."
"Can I please just have fucking post-it please, Rube?" It wasn't actually a request and Rube frowned.
The older man felt bad for a split-second. Sometimes it was hard not to love Mason, no matter how much he destroyed and disturbed. He silently handed Mason a post-it note. Mason looked at it as he always did, before slipping it into his pocket and standing up.
"Stay for some breakfast," Rube suggested.
"I can't," Mason mumbled, staggering towards the door. He was so pathetic.
He nearly ran into Daisy on the way out. "Whew, you smell." He just kept stumbling off to wherever it was Mason went all day. Daisy sat down, "I think he's been drinking."
"No shit." He handed her two small yellow slips of paper.
"Georgia came home crying last night…I don't think we should tell her about Mason's little slip."
"Never crossed my mind." Rube wondered what stupid thing Mason had done that would drive George to tears and him back to his old ways.
"I mean, he really looks bad," Daisy added in a whisper, seeing George enter the restaurant. Rube nodded.
"Hey Daisy, Rube…where, er, has Mason come in yet?"
"Yes, and now he's gone. And here is your work for the day." He stuck a post-it to her forehead
"Hey!" She pulled it off huffily. 'A. George, ETD 4:36 pm' it said. Luckily, she didn't have to work today. She remembered telling Mason that she id. Why did she have to screw up everything good she got? What was up with the instinct to not let herself enjoy the afterlife.
"What's up?" Rube asked but looked thoroughly uninterested. But George knew it didn't mean anything. "Trouble in Paradise?"
"If you are referring to my relationship with a certain young gentleman, a relationship you don't think I should have by the way, then it is none of your business." George was delighted that she'd pulled off such a snooty tone. That sort of thing was difficult to do with Rube.; he was intimidating and fatherly and you always felt stupid arguing or yelling at him. She stomped out with no breakfast in her starving tummy just as Mason had.
Daisy looked as if she would giggle. Roxy came in and sat down. "They're still not here?"
"Came and left," Daisy answered her. "Both very upset."
"Both very bitchy," Rube retorted.
"Probably just a little lover's spat." Daisy was far too amused by the situation.
"Well I think those two will be good for each other." Roxy's attitude was surprising. But they all knew deep down that Mason needed someone to keep him out of trouble and George needed someone to lighten her outlook on, well…everything.
"Who asked you? No one." Rube dropped a post-it in front of Roxy. Daisy just stared at him.
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George knocked on Mason's door.
"Come in," he yelled. George entered and walked up to the couch where Mason sat facing his television rubbing his eyes , hard; he'd obviously been sleeping when she showed up. He turned around and hopped up, "George!" He moved to put his hands on her shoulders. "I am so sorry about yesterday, George."
"No Mason, don't-" She paused, sniffing the air. Mason smelled like wine and, what was that? Tequila? "God, Mason are you drunk?"
"Not anymore. Well, maybe jus' a lil bit." He swaggered and sat back down on the cushion.
George stepped away from him. "No I don't want any tequila, Mason." She paused, thinking. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I," Mason pointed to himself before slurring, "am just being maself, and if you don't like it Georgie-girl, you can very well just piss off."
She turned to go, very much pissed off.
Mason panicked, "No wait. Wait, George! I idn't mean that." He tried to kiss her but his odor made her stomach wrench.
"Call me when you grow up," she told him.
Georgie, stop! C'mon! Wait." Too late. The door had slammed shut.
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About a half an hour later, George pounded as hard as she could on the door of Rube's apartment. "Rube! Rube, are you home? Rube!"
The door opened and George burst past him. "Patience is a virtue, Peanut. You wanna calm down and tell me what's wrong?"
She paced; George Lass was not a frantic, irrational person. She hated being out of control of her emotions. "I want to be transferred, like Daisy was. I wasn't to go work in New York or fucking Oklahoma or somewhere." Clearly, she hadn't thought this through.
"You can't." There was something weird in his voice.
"And why the hell not!"
"Well," began the ever-calm Rube, "first off, Daisy's a trouble-maker. She had to be sent here to be kept under control." The stressed girl blinked at him. "You're not presently in any trouble," he continued as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"So if I cause more trouble, start saving people and shit like that, I'll gent sent away?"
"You might want to think twice before you go stirring up any dust, Georgia. You probably won't be sent to a nice place like Daisy did. It doesn't work that way."
She started crying, an uncharacteristic act of treason that she'd been committing a lot lately, which made her even angrier.
"It was the fuck-up wasn't it? What did I tell you?"
"No, yes, well I don't know, but I want to get transferred."
Rube sighed. "Whatever he did, I'm sorry. But you can't leave because of Mason - it's just not a good enough reason. Didn't anyone ever tell you office romances never end nicely?"
George smiled a sudden, wide grin before saying, "Dolores Herbig."
Rube closed his eyes. "Great. Then forget I said it." He had met Dolores on more than one occasion. Rube leaned in close to George and she waited for him to put his arm around her or something, when he suddenly and unexpectedly kissed her.
George immediately pulled away, "What the hell, Rube?" She was too shocked to yell it.
His eyes seemed a little glazed over, the way Mason's were when he had told her that he loved her. 'Gross. God, am I wearing pheromones or something? Shit!'
"I'm sorry, Peanut. I didn't - Mason doesn't deserve you." He finished lamely.
"I am officially in the twilight zone. I that why you were always so worried about me dating guys? God, Rube, you're old."
"So what? We're dead; Mason's over 60 anyways." He stepped towards her.
"And you're like a hundred! What do you want me for anyways?" She turned toward the door, "You know what? Fuck this! Don't answer that. I'm sorry, Rube, but first of all: Eww. And second, I love Mason!" She slammed the door shut behind her and ran home. What the heck was going on? This had to be a dream. Sure, she had come to love Rube, but more like a favorite uncle or something, not like a boyfriend. This felt truly fucked up.
She kept running, hard and fast. She had to tell someone. But who? Daisy wouldn't see a problem - sure Rube wasn't her type, but nothing better than having two men fighting over you. Roxy flat out wasn't an option. Dolores? Hell no! And Mason - no, she couldn't even think about talking to Mason right now. Was he going to start drinking every time something went wrong between the two of them? He was such an idiot when he was high and drunk, always stealing something and barely making it to reaps. He was funny and cute, but when sober and clean he had much more to offer than that. Even Daisy had secretly considered it before.
She reached her door. She put her key in the lock but it was unlocked. She opened the door a crack before hearing voices. 'Mason and Daisy?' Yep. They were sitting on Mason's old couch; he'd given the girls the house.
"-and I really love her, Daisy," Mason was saying.
"I know you do, dear sweet misguided Mason, but face it. You're bad for her." Daisy, much to the rest of the world's chagrin, had this gift for talking about people to their face like they couldn't hear her. Who the hell did Daisy think she was? George fumed but refused to pipe up.
"But I've been trying."
"You were drunk this morning. Rube and I both smelled it." Daisy sighed, "Mason Mason Mason, maybe you would be better off just breaking up with Georgia and living a life of celibacy."
"Hearty har har, Daisy, you're so bloody funny. Well, my feelings are real and I don't need you and Rube laughing at me. I know I can stop screwing up. If she ever talks to me again, I can be very happy with George, and I know I can make her happy too, even if she can't love me," George's heart broke at that, "Cause Georgie knows what I am and she believes in me." Mason stood up.
George gasped and ran to the bottom of the stairs. She then 'just happened to be coming up' while Mason was leaving. He looked at the ground and walked fast.
When she passed him, she grabbed his arm and swung him around to face her. He opened his mouth but she spoke first, "Mason, I love you." She kissed him before he could speak. He still tasted like alcohol but George had hope she could trust him to get his act together.
Mason stood there, obviously and completely stunned. His mouth hung open until he could manage, "But you-"
George shook her head, "I've always been in love with you, but I didn't think you would like me, and then you chased Daisy for so long-" Mason's lips stopped her from saying anything more.
Inside, Mason felt like a kid on Christmas; George actually loved him back. He held her now and looked at her, a disbelieving smile creeping on and off of his face. "Georgie? Why didn't you tell me yesterday?"
She shrugged, feeling dramatic and immature, "I was scared. With Rube and Daisy and Roxy all staring at us the other day, and Rube saying we couldn't, and you being so romantic, and I was just worried - what if it doesn't work out?" Her eyes became apologetic. "What if you were just caught up in the moment and didn't mean it? Or what if I was just your new Daisy Adair, and I-" He kissed her again, unbearably happy.
"I believe I'm fucking ecstatic," Mason semi-yelled suddenly, picking George up and swinging her around.
"Ain't that sweet?" Daisy stood smiling in the doorway.
"Daisy!" The two protested (or warned) in unison.
"Fine, fine. I'll give you two some privacy." She smiled again slyly her head and disappeared herself.
"So," George whispered into Mason's ear, "You wanna go back to your place?" DID he? Of course! But he was unsure.
Mason looked at George's watch. "First you have to take care of your reap."
"Oh shit!" George had completely forgotten.
"And no thanks. We can hang out, but I've already messed up once and I want to prove to you I can be a good boy."
Mason's smile convinced a reluctant and sexually frustrated George to respect Mason's wish. 'For now.' Anyways, there wasn't much time to argue. It was already 4:05 and her reap was way across town in the park.
"Come with me," George demanded. Mason followed her to her car and slid into the passengers seat. "Seatbelt." Mason sighed and pulled it across his chest.
George sped off to the park. The only person in sight was a guy in his twenties. "Are you Mr. Alan George?" She tried.
The guy looked at Mason then back to George, "Adam. Why?"
"You have won a brand new car!" she said, pointing to her red Mustang convertible.
"What? Are you frickin' serious?" George shook his hand and took his soul. 'Of course not, you poor shmuck,' she thought, but she just nodded with phony enthusiasm. "We will deliver it to your house in one hour. Policy." Okay? Bye!"
"Congratulations, Mr. George," Mason offered. The man sat back down on the bench in shock. They went and got in the car and drove it around the corner, where he couldn't see them.
In the distance, George heard someone shout "Fore!" and a flying golf ball pelted Adam George on the head and killed him.
George got out and walked over to his soul and received a "I'm dead?"
"Yep. Sorry 'bout that."
"Do I still get my new car?"
"Umm, no." She hastily led him off behind some trees where he met with his own personal heaven or whatever
She climbed back into her coar with Mason and leaned over to kiss him softly.
Mason pulled back abruptly, licking his lips, "George, I want you." That was all he could think to say.
George understood he was pleading for her to regulate the situation. 'Damnit.' "I know you want to wait, but I'm here whenever you feel it's okay, because I want you now too."
Mason leaned in to kiss her but made sure their chests didn't touch. He knew her heart was beating as hard and fast as his, and also that he wouldn't be able to keep control if he felt her chest pumping against his own.
Her fingers laced into his hair, but he immediately grabbed her hand and pulled it gently away, then released it. To be safe, only their mouths could touch. "Kissing only," he explained; "I haven't got that much strength."
She was pleased at the thought that this was nearly as excruciating for him as he was making it for her. George's whole body was ringing, calling out to Mason. She held her hands behind her back; Mason's rested clasped together on his lap. She kissed him until she could no longer stand the heat.
"Wait, stop," George breathed painfully. "We have to-"
"Stop. I know…Damnit!" George looked into Mason's soft stare and bit her lip, hard. She sat back and started the car. She rolled down the window, letting the chill wind whip her burning face.
Mason watched as the wind whipped George's hair around her face like a wild, beautiful lion. He had to get home and take a cold shower. A fucking ice shower.
George pulled into his driveway and turned off the car. She put her hand on the door-lock. Mason shook his head. "Fuck that," she told him. "This is all your fault and I need a cold shower." She blushed to be saying it to Mason, but she didn't think she could make it home in her condition.
Mason laughed loudly "Fine, Georgie. Come on in." He looked at her ass as she exited the car. 'Not again,' he thought. 'Bollux! Bloody fuckin' hell!'
They got inside and he flicked on the lights. She went straight to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Mason listened as George unzipped her jeans and tossed her shoes to the linoleum. He heard the glass shower door slide open and closed. He heard her start humming a song he didn't know or couldn't place as he sat there simmering, praying for both their sakes that she was quick about it and would leave immediately after.
He wanted her so badly, but for once, it was important to him that she knew for sure he was worthy of her trust, that he could go at least a while without making any mistakes.. He didn't want George to get too serious because he was afraid that, eventually, one way or another, Rube would prove right and he would break her heart. He would never cheat on her or anything as dumb as that, but he really was a fuck-up. He didn't have anything to offer George but himself, and that honestly wasn't saying much.
"Shit," he heard George mutter. Her wet feet slapped against the bathroom tiles as she went to open the door. "Hey, Mason? Maosn, I need a towel."
He got a white towel from the hall closet and handed it through the door, "You feel better?"
George had to laugh, "No. Just cold."
AN: I know it's long and that's why I stopped it at such an abrupt place. Laterz! Oh, and R&R puhleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease!