Post by virgomaiden on Mar 3, 2008 18:07:44 GMT -5
Disclaimer: I do not own George, Nora, or the plot of LWD.
When he first met her, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. Or speak. Or really do much of anything, actually (which is weird, because their first official date he can’t shut up). His stomach drops to the floor and he feels short of breath. He stands there, cell phone in hand, about to call his friend Alex and yell at him for getting him involved in such a stupid…thing.
The stupid “thing” that he found himself involved in is a blind date set up by Alex and his wife. His supposed best friend who, along with his wife (Vanessa), were too nosy for their own good, and needed to leave the single man alone. (The single man who had three kids at home at the moment, and one of them an irresponsible teenager. Thankfully, he’d been able to hire a sitter…)
But then he saw her there: Nora McDonald, Vanessa’s best friend from college.
She’s drinking her tea, staring absently out of the window, and glancing every now and then at the watch on her wrist. He can tell that she’s nervous; it’s her first blind date, too, according to Alex.
He tries to make it suave, a perfect first impression, coming up to the table.
But it was not meant to be, because he slips on the table cloth of a neighboring table and pulls a waiter down, splashing her table with water (it avoids her, he happily notices), and ends up hitting his head on the floor.
The last thing that he sees is her face staring down at him in concern, asking if he is George Venturi.
And, like an idiot, he nods.
And hopes that she doesn’t lose interest.
He wakes up about fifteen minutes later. He’s been moved to the back room, on a couch. He’s laying down, and someone’s coat is covering him.
And she’s there.
She’s there, sitting in an armchair, staring at the wall space above his head, completely in another world. He is captured by her, and he wishes that it could be like that forever: her, perfectly still, looking as if a model might, and him, having just humiliated himself.
But then she notices him and jumps up from her perch, and is at his side immediately, asking him how he feels, reporting that he doesn’t have a concussion, that an ambulance wasn’t necessary.
He smiles widely while saying that, no, he doesn’t need a doctor, and wonders if he has died and gone to heaven.
That night, before he leaves, he manages to ask for a second first date without enacting any physical harm on himself.
And she says yes.
Maybe literally falling head over heels is the way to go.
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A/N: A George/Nora fic. There aren’t enough out there, even though they’re totally cannon : ) I've also posted this on my fanfic account, which is under the same name.
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Tact
When he first met her, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. Or speak. Or really do much of anything, actually (which is weird, because their first official date he can’t shut up). His stomach drops to the floor and he feels short of breath. He stands there, cell phone in hand, about to call his friend Alex and yell at him for getting him involved in such a stupid…thing.
The stupid “thing” that he found himself involved in is a blind date set up by Alex and his wife. His supposed best friend who, along with his wife (Vanessa), were too nosy for their own good, and needed to leave the single man alone. (The single man who had three kids at home at the moment, and one of them an irresponsible teenager. Thankfully, he’d been able to hire a sitter…)
But then he saw her there: Nora McDonald, Vanessa’s best friend from college.
She’s drinking her tea, staring absently out of the window, and glancing every now and then at the watch on her wrist. He can tell that she’s nervous; it’s her first blind date, too, according to Alex.
He tries to make it suave, a perfect first impression, coming up to the table.
But it was not meant to be, because he slips on the table cloth of a neighboring table and pulls a waiter down, splashing her table with water (it avoids her, he happily notices), and ends up hitting his head on the floor.
The last thing that he sees is her face staring down at him in concern, asking if he is George Venturi.
And, like an idiot, he nods.
And hopes that she doesn’t lose interest.
----------------
He wakes up about fifteen minutes later. He’s been moved to the back room, on a couch. He’s laying down, and someone’s coat is covering him.
And she’s there.
She’s there, sitting in an armchair, staring at the wall space above his head, completely in another world. He is captured by her, and he wishes that it could be like that forever: her, perfectly still, looking as if a model might, and him, having just humiliated himself.
But then she notices him and jumps up from her perch, and is at his side immediately, asking him how he feels, reporting that he doesn’t have a concussion, that an ambulance wasn’t necessary.
He smiles widely while saying that, no, he doesn’t need a doctor, and wonders if he has died and gone to heaven.
That night, before he leaves, he manages to ask for a second first date without enacting any physical harm on himself.
And she says yes.
Maybe literally falling head over heels is the way to go.
----------------
A/N: A George/Nora fic. There aren’t enough out there, even though they’re totally cannon : ) I've also posted this on my fanfic account, which is under the same name.