Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

AN - Another two shot, I hope you enjoy. Please drop a review on your way out :)

I tried to convince myself that it was circumstance making me feel things that didn't, that shouldn't exist. Five years of seeing a person every single day will do that to a girl. Of course, part of me knew that I didn't feel the same things for Roxy, or Daisy, or Mason even though I saw them just as much. I told myself they didn't count. Rube was different. Rube was... Rube.

Another day started, which meant another reap. Before that though, there was another morning in Der Waffle Haus to contend with.

xxxx

George pulled up to Der Waffle Haus in her red mustang, jumping out as soon as she parked. She was late, and Rube was always pissy when she was late. She was the last to arrive, finding the others already seated, each nursing either a coffee or in Mason's case, eating breakfast.

George was about to slide in next to Mason when Roxy stood up, gesturing for George to take her place.

"I have to get to work," she explained, a small smirk on her face. Roxy was the only one who knew about George's conflicted feelings for the head reaper, and she often took the time to annoy George about it.

George glared half heartedly at her, receiving a pat to the shoulder as Roxy left, and slid into the booth, taking care not to brush against Rube's outstretched legs. Ignoring the puzzled glance he sent her way, she requested coffee from Kiffany who arrived at exactly the right time, and drank half of he cup in one go.

Kiffany just smiled, refilling the the cup before moving on to another customer.

"We got a tandem reap today, Peanut," Rube told her, handing over a yellow post it note. She glanced down at it, noting the time as a little over an hour away. Oh well, at least she wouldn't have to come up with an excuse for Dolores today, it being Saturday and all.

She nodded at him, keeping her eyes on her coffee cup. Why had things had to get so awkward? She was losing the person she was the closest to in the world, and all because she couldn't keep her fucking emotions in check.

"How come Georgie always gets the tandems with you?" Mason asked, his mouth full of egg. Rube just stared at him. "You know, it gets lonely out there in the world, I wouldn't mind a bit of company occasionally, you know?"

George rose her eyebrow as she looked at Mason. "You want it, it's yours. I don't mind a day off."

"Death is -" Rube started, before George cut across him.

"Non transferable, yes, I know, got that memo a few years ago," she grumbled. She hadn't fucked up in over three years, would it kill Rube to fucking notice that?

Rube frowned at her, but let it slide as he closed up his note book, snapping the elastic around it.

"It's about a forty five minute drive, we'd better go," he said, gesturing for her to slide out of the booth.

George stood up with a sign, throwing a few notes on the table for her coffee, and waited for Rube to do the same.

"Who's driving?" She asked as he led them from the diner to where their cars were parked side by side.

"You wanna drive? It's a nice day, good day for a ride with the top down?" He offered. She nodded, unlocking the car. Rube got in without another word, and George followed suit, pulling out of the car park.

"Which way?" She asked at the first junction.

"West," he replied. She snuck a look at him, and was almost angry at how relaxed he looked while she felt as tense as a coiled spring.

She satisfied herself with driving, not really wanting to argue with him despite the fact that she knew it would help her to release some of the tension she was feeling. It wasn't fair to either of them and she wasn't sure she wanted to risk anything she might say in anger anyway.

The drive was silent, both of them buried in their own thoughts. They arrived with just ten minutes to spare, thanks to traffic, and got to work looking for their marks.

George found hers first, a young woman of about twenty six, and a quick comment about hair was her in to lightly touch her. Soul popped, George moved away, looking for Rube. She found him as he found his person, and they both stepped back to watch the deaths unfold.

It was gruesome. A car crash, squashing both of them against a concrete wall. The ghosts moved on quickly enough, the lights descending to take them on to the great whatever.

Returning to the car, George started to drive them back, hoping for as silent a ride as their first. She wasn't in luck.

"You going to tell me what's up with you, or do I have to guess?" Rube asked eventually, turning in his seat to look at her.

George, keeping her eyes on the road, snorted. "Guess away," she muttered. The 'you'll never guess' went unspoken but was still clearly heard.

"The only thing I can think of, Peanut, is that I've offended you horrifically," he replied after a moment. "Because otherwise, I have no idea why I'm being subjected to the cold shoulder from you."

George sighed. "You haven't offended me, you haven't done anything. This is all me. I'll work it out," she offered.

"You need to talk about something?" He asked, his tone gentle.

"Absolutely not," she replied.

He nodded like he'd expected that answer, which, yeah, probably.

"Come for dinner tonight?" He asked after a while, just as George was about to pull into the car park where Rube's Truck was still sitting.

"I think I'm busy," she evaded, pulling up and stopping the engine.

"You're not," he answered surely. "I promise I won't bug for an answer, alright?"

George closed her eyes and rested her head against the steering wheel. She hated how lost he sounded, and the hurt in his eyes was killing her. She had never turned him down for an evening in his flat before, and they had become fairly frequent in the last two years.

A perk of being Rube's favourite, or so Roxy teased her.

"Alright," she replied tiredly. "Seven?"

"Seven," he confirmed. "See you tonight, Peanut."

As Rube got out of the car and closed the door, George lifted her head slightly and banged it against the wheel, groaning. Tonight was going to be a fucking disaster.

xxxx

She knocked on his door at seven 'o' five . She'd been there at six forty-five, but stayed in her car trying to work herself calm. Her heart was bouncing erratically in her chest, and her mind was whirling with all the things she knew she couldn't say or do.

Rube answered the door and stepped back to allow her in. She could smell the lasagna he was cooking and smiled despite herself. He'd cooked her favourite because he thought she needed cheering up.

"Alright?" He asked, holding out a hand for her coat, which he hung up.

"Good as gold," she replied flippantly, and he allowed himself a half smile.

"Dinner's almost ready," he told her, pouring them both a glass of red wine. She accepted it with thanks, sipping it carefully. She would only have one, she would be driving home after all.

They exchanged small talk for a while, falling into the regular pattern. Rube was telling her about Mason's latest fuck up when he served the food. A comfortable silence fell while they ate, and George finally allowed herself to relax.

The food was good, and Rube had been true to his word and not mentioned the earlier conversation.

It all went to pot of course when they sat down in front of the fire afterwards.

George stared at the flames, watching the dance merrily around the logs. She could feel Rube's eyes on her, and she knew he was waiting for an explanation. What was she supposed to tell him?

You've been my boss for five years, but by the way, I've fallen in love with you, and if you reject me I might just lose my mind entirely?

Yup, she was sure that would go down fantastically fucking well.

"Can we not do this?" She asked instead, turning her head to meet his eyes.

"I can't force you to tell me what's wrong, Peanut," he admitted. "But I'm worried about you. You've lost your spark."

"I told you this morning that I'll be fine. I don't know what else I can tell you, Rube," she replied tiredly.

"You could tell me whatever it is that's causing you to lose sleep at night," he prompted. "There's nothing I won't help you with."

She nodded. "I know but this, you can't help with this."

He stayed silent, waiting. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard, thinking of a way to tell the truth but not tell him the whole truth. She wouldn't lie to him. She couldn't lie to him.

"I have feelings for someone I... Someone I shouldn't."

"A living person?" He asked.

"No, another reaper."

"There are no rules against it. Or does he not feel the same?" He asked, and she frowned. The only male reapers she knew were Rube and Mason. Surely the man couldn't be that stupid? Either that or he was suffering a severe case of fucking denial.

"I don't know how he feels, I haven't asked. On this matter, I don't particularly care to know how he feels."

"Oh?"

"Rejection doesn't feel good," she clarified.

"Ah." Rube stared at her for a little while longer, and she ducked her head, a slight blush staining her cheeks. Even now, after knowing him so long, he still made her feel like the girl she was when she first died. She needed to leave.

"I should go, it's getting late," she said, standing up. She stretched a little, and moved towards the door, not realising he'd followed her until she turned to say goodbye.

He stood close, in arms reach certainly, but not close enough that he was intimidating.

"I'll see you in the morning," she mumbled, opening the door. He reached out a hand and pulled her back before she got through it.

"Peanut," he said, pulling her into a hug. "I think if you tell Mason how you feel, he might reciprocate. He might surprise you."

She pulled away from him, staring at him in shock. The anger inside her, already so close to boiling point even if she didn't know the reason why, burst out of her.

"You're a fucking idiot," she told him, before she grabbed him, and pressed her lips to his in an angry kiss that lacked finesse but held untold amounts of passion.

He seemed to freeze for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her back with as much fervor as she was kissing him. When the need to breath finally became stronger than the need to keep kissing, they separated, both breathing hard.

George didn't know what to do, didn't know how to react, so she just stood in front of him, arms by her side, staring at him.

"That… That was a mistake," Rube said as he caught his breath. "That can't happen again."

George sucked in a breath, the pain of rejection hitting her in the chest like a fucking freight train. She would not cry, she would not cry, she would not. fucking. cry.

"Peanut," Rube started, but she shook her head.

"No. Don't do that. Don't try and make me feel better," she choked out. "I have to go."

"Georgia, wait," he tried, but she was already hitting the stairs. "Georgia!"

He rubbed his hand across his face. He'd really fucked up this time.

xxxx

"Where's George?" Roxy asked. It had been an hour since they had all met up, and Rube was refusing to hand out the Post-It's until she arrived.

"No idea, she didn't come home last night," Daisy informed them as she huffed her fingernails.

Rube frowned, "you're only thinking to tell us that now?"

"No one asked," Daisy said, a slight shrug of her shoulders.

"Fuck me," Rube muttered, before he finally opened up his book and handed out the post-it's.

George arrived just as Rube passed Daisy hers. Without looking at any of them she held out her hand for her post it.

"Where the fuck you been?" Roxy asked, concern lacing her tone.

"I was busy," George muttered, sending a slightly apologetic look at Roxy as she did. Roxy stared at her for a moment before she nodded.

Standing, she leant closer to George, and whispered, "You'll come and see me later." It wasn't a question, and George nodded without much thought. She would go and see Roxy, if only to explain the decision she had come to.

When Rube didn't hand over her post it, George looked at him. He winced slightly when he saw how shit she looked, but he didn't comment.

"Sit down, have some coffee," he said instead.

She shook her head. "I need to go."

"Sit the fuck down, peanut."

She glared at him. She knew she had to wait for the post it. She wouldn't be the one to blame for someone dying in pain because she didn't know who she was supposed to reap.

"Mason, move, let me sit," she muttered instead. He looked at her, then at Rube, then back at her before he shrugged his shoulders and switched sides. Chancing a glance at Rube, she found him staring at her angrily.

"Coffee?" Kiffany asked, coming over to the table.

"Please," George said.

"You look tired, sweetie. You didn't sleep last night?"

"Not really," George replied, offering her a half smile as she took her coffee. "Thanks, Kiff."

George sat running her finger around the top of the coffee cup, her other hand stretched out palm up towards Rube, waiting for the post it.

"You, and you, fuck off," Rube growled eventually. Daisy nudged George to let her out. George did so, and retook her seat, continuing to refuse to look at Rube.

"Either give me my post it, or do it your fucking self," she growled when he didn't say anything. "I'm not in the mood for your shit this morning."

"You think I'm happy about what happened, Peanut," Rube asked, and she looked up at him.

"What happened has absolutely no bearing on me doing the job I'm supposed to be doing. Right now, you're my boss. Personal shit, as you so often tell me, has no place in these meetings. Give me my post it, and let me do my job."

"You can't avoid this conversation forever, Georgia."

"Would you care to make a bet on that? There's nothing to discuss. End of fucking conversation. Happy?"

"Not even a little. But, your reap is in half an hour, so here. I want to see you here on time in the morning, George."

She took the post it and left the table without an answer. She could feel his eyes on her but she ignored the instinct to go back to the table, to apologise, to make everything the way it used to be.

She had loved him as a friend long before she felt anything else. She couldn't believe she had fucked up so badly in one night. Still, she had a plan to make it right, at least for him.

xxxx

Roxy was waiting for her when George arrived, and she opened the door for her straight away. George slumped in the awaiting chair, and took the coffee Roxy offered her.

Roxy sat across from her, waiting for her to unload. George told her what happened, all the excruciating detail from Rube's apartment, followed by what had happened afterwards.

"I couldn't go home. Would you want to face Daisy fucking Adair after that? So I parked up by the water, and I cried, and I thought and I cried some more. It wasn't until this morning that I decided there was only one way to fix it."

Roxy sat looking at her for a moment. "You're leaving."

George nodded sadly. "I put in for a transfer. I fly out tomorrow morning. Rube will find out tonight, I imagine."

"He's going to lose his fucking mind," Roxy muttered.

"Somehow, I think he'll be happy in the end. He'll be angry with me, and then he'll say it's for the best. I don't want to leave, but if I stay, everything in the group will fuck up. I don't want it to be the George and Rube show every morning, Rox."

"He won't be happy, George. I promise you that. He loves you too, even if his morals are stopping him from acting on them."

George just shook her head. She put her coffee cup on the table. "I gotta go. But… I'll call you, alright?"

"You better. I'll miss you, girl," Roxy replied, pulling her into a hug. "You said Rube will find out tonight when he gets his delivery?"

George nodded. "I think so."

"Then go on. He'll know by now, and he'll come looking for you here."

George frowned. She doubted that. "I'll miss you, too," she said instead, before she left.

Roxy closed the door behind her, and checked the clock. Putting the kettle back on, she waited for Rube to arrive. It wouldn't be long.