Won't buy this line you're selling
Title: Figuring You Out
Fandom:RPF
Pairing: Eliza Dushku/Jensen Ackles
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Never happened, not even once, although awoken and I like to dream.
He sighed and started on his third cup of coffee this morning. Sure, the caffeine shakes were starting to set in, and he was more paranoid at an X-Files nerd at Roswell, but coffee was good.
Coffee meant hyper. Coffee meant borrowed happy that helped him feel like so much less like an asshole. Coffee meant stalling until he found the balls to call her and say something brilliant.
God knows it would have to be.
He was just going to sit here, enjoy the healing properties that came with your average cup of restaurant coffee, and plan. Plans were also good, meant he didn’t have to go toe to toe with a girl who had spent the better part of her career kicking ass.
Guy ass even, although he was pretty safe in the fact that there weren’t many graveyards around where she could throw him into tombstones.
But, these were all things that could wait, or at least that was what he thought.
“How did I know I’d find you here, Jensen?”
“Eliza!” he squeaked, the pink packet of sugar in his hands fluttering to the floor. Jensen was going to choose to ignore the fact that he had just been caught squealing and with some frilly pink artificial sweetener no less and focus on the fact that the one person in that he was trying to avoid in all of Los Angeles was standing right in front of him.
“That’s all you can say to me!? That’s all you can say to me after what I just had to find out from some producer!?”
“Oh, so you know already?” he asked sheepishly, ducking his head.
“Of course I know! What, did you really think they wouldn’t tell me!?”
“No, I knew they’d tell you…”
“So you were just gonna let them!?”
“I thought I’d get to you first! God, I’m not that much of an ass!” he yelled, suddenly aware of the eyes of at least half the restaurant honing in on the two of them. “Will you at least sit down?” he hissed.
She laughed bitterly. “Like I’d wanna sit down with you!”
“Eliza,” he said softly, his eyes locking on hers. “Just sit, please. At least let me explain myself.”
She sighed, sitting down and meeting his gaze. “You have five minutes, and this better be good.”
“First of all, this had nothing to do with you,” he said calmly.
“Oh really?“ she snapped. “You know, I find that a little hard to believe considering you’ve been practically Stepford to me ever since that night I came over.”
“You have to admit it was a little awkward.”
“No, I don’t, because it wasn’t! Christ, Jen, all I did was give you a fucking hug and…”
He cut her off. “We almost kissed.”
“What!?” she laughed nervously. “We did not!”
“We did, and you were the one who freaked out on me.”
He took a deep breath, before slowly meeting her gaze. “Look, I don’t know what’s up with you. I don’t know if you’re scared, or maybe you’ve just had your fill of the jackasses that are out there, but we both know that I wasn’t the only one ready to give in, if only for a split second. And yeah, know what? Maybe part of the reason I passed on the show was you, because being around you is so fucking intense and…” he paused, searching for some sort of response, some faint glimmer of hope, but her eyes were on the tablecloth, and her expression wasn’t exactly encouraging. “Screw this, I swear, you have your moments Eliza, but sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall.”
He tossed some cash onto the table and stood up. “If you ever figure out what the hell you want, let me know.”
Fandom:RPF
Pairing: Eliza Dushku/Jensen Ackles
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Never happened, not even once, although awoken and I like to dream.
He sighed and started on his third cup of coffee this morning. Sure, the caffeine shakes were starting to set in, and he was more paranoid at an X-Files nerd at Roswell, but coffee was good.
Coffee meant hyper. Coffee meant borrowed happy that helped him feel like so much less like an asshole. Coffee meant stalling until he found the balls to call her and say something brilliant.
God knows it would have to be.
He was just going to sit here, enjoy the healing properties that came with your average cup of restaurant coffee, and plan. Plans were also good, meant he didn’t have to go toe to toe with a girl who had spent the better part of her career kicking ass.
Guy ass even, although he was pretty safe in the fact that there weren’t many graveyards around where she could throw him into tombstones.
But, these were all things that could wait, or at least that was what he thought.
“How did I know I’d find you here, Jensen?”
“Eliza!” he squeaked, the pink packet of sugar in his hands fluttering to the floor. Jensen was going to choose to ignore the fact that he had just been caught squealing and with some frilly pink artificial sweetener no less and focus on the fact that the one person in that he was trying to avoid in all of Los Angeles was standing right in front of him.
“That’s all you can say to me!? That’s all you can say to me after what I just had to find out from some producer!?”
“Oh, so you know already?” he asked sheepishly, ducking his head.
“Of course I know! What, did you really think they wouldn’t tell me!?”
“No, I knew they’d tell you…”
“So you were just gonna let them!?”
“I thought I’d get to you first! God, I’m not that much of an ass!” he yelled, suddenly aware of the eyes of at least half the restaurant honing in on the two of them. “Will you at least sit down?” he hissed.
She laughed bitterly. “Like I’d wanna sit down with you!”
“Eliza,” he said softly, his eyes locking on hers. “Just sit, please. At least let me explain myself.”
She sighed, sitting down and meeting his gaze. “You have five minutes, and this better be good.”
“First of all, this had nothing to do with you,” he said calmly.
“Oh really?“ she snapped. “You know, I find that a little hard to believe considering you’ve been practically Stepford to me ever since that night I came over.”
“You have to admit it was a little awkward.”
“No, I don’t, because it wasn’t! Christ, Jen, all I did was give you a fucking hug and…”
He cut her off. “We almost kissed.”
“What!?” she laughed nervously. “We did not!”
“We did, and you were the one who freaked out on me.”
He took a deep breath, before slowly meeting her gaze. “Look, I don’t know what’s up with you. I don’t know if you’re scared, or maybe you’ve just had your fill of the jackasses that are out there, but we both know that I wasn’t the only one ready to give in, if only for a split second. And yeah, know what? Maybe part of the reason I passed on the show was you, because being around you is so fucking intense and…” he paused, searching for some sort of response, some faint glimmer of hope, but her eyes were on the tablecloth, and her expression wasn’t exactly encouraging. “Screw this, I swear, you have your moments Eliza, but sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall.”
He tossed some cash onto the table and stood up. “If you ever figure out what the hell you want, let me know.”