Disclaimer: i don't own Dead Like Me
Summary: He never calls her when he's sober
Authors Note: For my New Best Friend Zhana, or dragon-wisher on fictionpress. based off the song by Evanescence


Under The Influence by Liv


George opened her eyes as the phone rang. She twisted in the bed as she tried to reach the offending object depriving her of sleep.

"Hello?" she mumbled , groggily sitting up in bed and rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Hey George."

"Mason?" mumbled George, sitting up enough to look at her alarm clock. "What do you want Mason? It's two in the morning."

"Come outside love!" said Mason excitedly. George quirked an eyebrow through half closed eyes.

"Excuse me?" but Mason had already hung up the phone. "Fucker," mumbled George, throwing off her sheets angrily and getting out of bed.

George slammed the front door shut, looking around for Mason. He seemed not to be there. Figures.

"Mason?" hissed George, crossing her arms over her chest and walking forwards down the front walk in her bare feet.

"Mason, where the fuck are you?" hissed George again, looking around. Her face going cold and her cheeks turning red as the cold November air blew into her face.

A hand brushed against George's hip, causing her to jump. She attempted to spin around, but said hand held her starring out into the empty street. George's heart banged against her rib cage as she tried to calm down from the scare. It had to be Mason, nobody else would, touch her like that without fear of death. And she really didn't want anyone else to touch her.

"Shush."

"Mason? Why are you here?" asked George as she was shushed. She felt Mason chuckle as he pressed her against his chest.

"I have know idea..."

"Are you drunk?" asked George, sniffing the air and catching the scent of booze.

"I'm so fucked up love." Mason nuzzled his cheek against the curve of George's neck; wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Get off me Mason," said George firmly, placing her hands on Mason's wrists. Mason (instead of letting go) bit her shoulder, earing a gasp from her, than pressing his nose against her ear.

"You don't want me too," he mumbled, catching the sent of the shampoo she used.

"Yes I do," mumbled George half-heartedly as she leaned her back against his chest, shutting her eyes.

Mason slid his hands back onto her waist, spinning her around to face him. They starred at each other, George could smell the drink on his breath. Then he kissed her. Just like that. Hard. Full on the mouth making George forget about how he was supposed to be her friend, forgot about how little she was wearing and that he probably was too waited to know what he was doing.

George didn't care.

He felt to good against her, too wonderful to taste, even thought he would regret it. She didn't. Not right now.

Mason slid his tongue alone George's bottom lip, parting them and slipping his tongue inside her mouth. George kissed him back. And then he pulled away. George pouted slightly, missing the contact as Mason grinned drunkly at her.

"Sorry love," he mumbled thickly, sliding his hands off her waist. "It's getting early."

George looked behind her, watching as dawn slid over the house across the street. "So I guess I'll see you at break-," George looked back at Mason, who had disappeared. "-fast," George's shoulder's dropped, swallowing the rest of her goodbye.


George walked into Der Waffle Haus, noticing Mason sitting alone with a cup of coffee candled against him chest. George (feeling confident that last night wasn't just some weird high he was on) walked over to Mason and sat opposite him.

Mason glared at her, the bags under his eyes signifying his hung-over state.

"Hi," she said, tapping her fingers against the table.

"No speaking," he mumbled, dropping his head into his arms and groaning. George kinda felt hurt.

"So, what happened last night-."

"What did I do?" asked Mason, lifting his head up and looking at her. "I did something completely stupid didn't I? Run around in my skivvies or something?"

"No whispered George as Rube and Roxy walked in, complaining about their hunger. "No nothing like that," George clenched her teeth, trying to bite back the tears in her eyes.

"Alrighty kids, work time. Where's Daisy?"

"She used up the rest of my shampoo, so I ate her."


George sat on the couch starring at the t.v. as it flashed brightly at her. Glancing at the clock on the t.v. as someone knocked on the front door, George groaned as it read 2:03. George stood up, turning off the television as she went to answer the door.

"Mason?" asked George completely confused. "Mason, what are you doing her-," George was cut off as Mason walked (almost into her) and kissed her, running his hands around her back, pulling her into him. George couldn't help but kiss him back. Unfortunately, George thought back to that morning, tasted the beer on his tongue and pulled away.

"What's wrong love?" mumbled Mason, running his lips along George's jaw.

"Waisted?" was all George managed to get out before she was shut up.

Mason didn't respond, instead just nudged her back into the house, shutting the door and kissing her again.


George woke up on the couch. Her neck was sort of stiff and she wasn't wearing her shirt. She blinked heavily, looking around the living room. George saw Mason laying sprawled on the lazy boy by the fire place. George swallowed hesitantly, sitting up and shaking Mason's knee.

"Mason," hissed George, reaching over the coffee table to grab her top (which hung on a bottle of water on the edge of the table.) And threw it on before shaking Mason again.

"Mason, wake up!" George hissed again urgently. Mason mumbled, turning over in the chair and waving her off. George pursed her lips and smacked him over the head.

"Bloody cocksucker!" he shouted, spinning around in the chair and falling off it. He looked at George with wide eyes.

"The fuck was that for!" shouted Mason incredulously. George rolled her eyes. He was back to his old self. "George what am I doing here?" he asked, looking around . George straitened her shirt and walked into the kitchen, ignoring Mason.

"Seriously, what am I doing here?" Mason asked again, standing up and following her.

"You decided to come over," mumbled George, not looking at him, so he couldn't see the hurt expression on her face. So she made breakfast.

"Oh," said Mason surprised. "Well, thanks for letting me crash, I guess," George nodded as Mason went off to the bathroom.

"Yeah," she said rubbing the corner of her eye with her wrist. "Yeah no problem."


"Georgia, what's the matter?" George quirked an eyebrow as Daisy popped her head into George's cubical. George turned around in her chair and stared at Daisy.

"Why are you here?" asked George starring at Daisy. Daisy smiled sympathetically at George and sat down on the corner of her desk.

"You seem troubled and tired."

George sighed, folding her hands in her lap. "I'm sleep deprived."

"No wonder you're braking out! You're worse than usual," George frowned slightly and touched her face.

"Georgia," began Daisy, frowning slightly looking at her shoes. "I'm worried about you."

"You're worried about me?"

"Well of course silly. That's why I'm talking to you in person instead of sending Rube," George sighed and rubbed her temples. "What's the matter Georgia?"

George didn't say anything right away. Instead she thought back to last night, and the night before that and the ones before them.

"He never calls me when he's sober," she whispered, feeling hot tears slip down her face.


George lay on her stomach starring almost open mouthed at Mason as he stared back at her.

"Why did you do it?" asked George, her voice coming out in a sort of strangled gasp as she looked almost strait up at the ceiling.

Mason blinked at her and sat next to her on the bed.

"You know that feeling you get when you take someone's soul?" asked Mason, his words slurring slightly.

George nodded, pouting a bit as Mason's fingers slipped onto her hip and toyed with the fabric of her boxers.

"You don't know do you?" asked Mason, laughing at her, while George flipped over on her back, watching Mason's hands travel to her stomach.

"Tell me how it feels," she whispered, looked back up at him while the callouses on his finger tips rubbed against her skin. Mason chuckled to himself, closing his eyes and dropping his cheek against George's stomach.

"Alright," he said scooting down on the bed and placing his chin on her hip. "That feeling you get when your foot falls asleep. (Not the painful kind, the one where the blood's cut off, you know?) It gelt like if I could find that one spot my life would go on in some sort of bliss. The warm feeling you get when you stick your tongue against a light bulb. When I wake up in the morning I can still feel that in the back of my throat. I need that high. I - I have no idea what I'm talking about. I'm just babbling now."

George just watched him. The boy was drunk off his ass and making no sense. He wasn't even in his mind, he was a shell.

George was in love with a shell, but love was such a strong word...too bad, she was using it. Mason scoffed and propped himself on his forearms.

"I'm bored, let's get a hamburger," George laughed at him as he jumped out of her bed and threw him sweatshirt at her childishly.

"Common," whined Mason, grinning at her like a puppy who'd just fetched for the first time and was waiting for a treat. George sighed.

"Alright."


"I mean, how could I say no to a face like that?" George asked Daisy, who'd taken to sitting on the floor (on George's jacket). Daisy just starred at her. A sign George took as one to pick a different story.


"You're waisted again right?"

"When am I not love?" countered Mason brushing back the hair on George's shoulder and wrapping his arms around her from behind.

"Mason-."

"Georgie look, just let me kiss you. Ok?"

"I only wish you would remember," muttered George before Mason kissed her deeply, pressing her back against his chest. Mason didn't hear her, he never did. Reaper metabolism had it's disadvantages. Like amnesia instead of getting sick.

Death sucks.


Daisy sat across from Mason in Der Waffle Haus. He was reading the obituaries and eating pancakes. Mason paused, fork halfway to his mouth when he noticed Daisy starring at him.

"What?" he asked incredulously, placing his fork down and looking at her over his paper. Daisy shrugged and turned her head away, obvious to Mason that something was up. Mason sighed, checking his watch and groaned.

"Alright Daisy, what did I do?" Daisy leaned forward, surprising Mason, who leaned back.

"You're breaking her heart Mason,"" hissed Daisy, fixing Mason with a very upset look. Mason stared at her with an eyebrow raised.

"What?" Daisy slapped him across the face. A few of the customers around them starred.

"Crist!" said Mason loudly, disturbing Kiffany, who had a cup of coffee for Daisy. "What was that for!"

"Stop drinking," Mason scoffed.

"The only way you get to tell me what to do is if you wear leather and hit me with a whip. And seeing nothing of that sort...," Mason trailed off, giving Daisy the pleasure to conplete his thoughts on her own.

In response, Daisy slapped him again. Mason bit back a curse, the spot where she'd hit him going red.

"Stop hurting her." said Daisy again. Mason's look almost encouraged her to go on. When Daisy didn't elaborate, Mason sighed and tossed his paper down on the table.

"Who, what and what?" asked Mason leaning forward on the table.

"She loves you," Mason quirked an eyebrow

"'Scuse me?"

"She-loves-you," said Daisy slowly. Mason opened his mouth to ask 'who' but wasn't able to as Daisy got out of the booth and left. Mason was left sitting by himself.

He rubbed his cheek and shook his head, pulling a flask out of his front pocket and proceeded to drink.

What did Daisy know anyways?


George brushed the shoulder of a 16 year old girl, flinching as she was run into a wood chipper, Mason, standing next to her, grimaced.

"Did I just die?" George turned to look over at A.J. Spencer. Mason nodded, nudging George with his elbow.

"I need a drink. You wanna join me?" George stared at him for a second, wondering how much alcohol it would take to get Manson pissed. How much it would take to bring him to her.

"No," said George turning towards A.J. "You go ahead and I'll see you when you're done," giving her a quizzed look, Mason left. A.J. looked at her curiously.

"Now what?" she asked.

"You cross over," said George crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why?" George looked at her and paused. Nobody had ever asked why.

"I guess so you don't have to hang around anymore," A.J. chuckled and looked over at her 'body'.

"I always wondered how they would react if I died.."

"What's your name?"

"Amy," she said looking back over at George. "You and that guy back there, the one who needed a drink, you guys are reapers?" George nodded. "That's so cool. He's pretty cute for a dead guy you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"Guys are jerks aren't they?" George furrowed her eyebrows. "They never know when they hurt you."

the breeze picked up right then, Amy turned to look behind her and grinned. "Looks like my ride's here," she said, taking a step forward towards the open curtains of a theater. The translucent fabric blowing gently in the wind.

"Hope you kick his ass!" she shouted, turning her head to look back at George. George watched her twirl onto the stage of her wildest love and disappear in a ball of light and a gust of wind.


George sat on the front porch, her feet dangling off the edge watching a car sort of skid to a halt. Mason stepped out.

"Piss ass drunk, as usual," mumbled George, dropping her head in favor of staring at the ground.

"Georgie," muttered Mason flopping down on the porch beside her and placing his head in her lap. George ignored the pressure below her belly button.

"Georgie," he said, almost whining. Mason pressed his nose into George's stomach.

Mason turned over on his back and looked up at her with puppy dog eyes. "What's the matter George?"

"You're drunk," said George brushing hair out of her eyes.

"No I'm not!" said Mason almost offended. George looked down at him with tears in her eyes.

"Don't lie to me Mason," she said quietly.

Mason leaned up and kissed her neck. George turned her head away, smelling the booze off his clothes.

"Get off me Mason," said George. Mason placed his and on her abdomen and nuzzled the crook of her neck.

"Mason, please, just leave me alone," said George placing her hand on top of his, trying to pry him off.

"What's wrong?" asked Mason, not pulling away, instead, wrapping him arm around her waist. George buried her head in his shoulder, bitting back tears.

"Georeg?" Georeg shook her head, her tears splashing into his jacket.

"You never talk to me like this Mason." muttered George, her voice muffled by Mason's coat. Mason snaked his hands up her back and stroked her hair.

"I love you George," he muttered. George held back a scoff.

"Tell me that when you're sober."


Gorge ignored Mason as he sat down next to her in Der Waffle Haus Mason looked ay her curiously, leaning his elbow on the table to see her face.

"Georgia," said Mason, saying her name by pronouncing each syllable clearly.

"Leave me alone Mason," said George taking a drink from her cup. Mason frowned.

"What's up with you?" he asked, sitting up and reaching over to brush George's hair out of her eyes to see her face. Mason clicked his tongue sympathetically.

George's eyes were slightly red and watering, her hair stuck to her cheeks as Mason brushed it away. He cupped her face in his hands and turned her face so she would look at him.

"George? What's wrong?" before George could answer, a pile of dishes crashed in the kitchen, making George jump and Mason flinch. George looked at him.

"You're hung over right?" said George placing her hands on Mason's and sliding his hands off her face. Mason looked at her curiously.

"Yeah, a bit, how did you know?"

"You decided to stop by last night," Mason looked at her, more like stared.

"I did?" George nodded, looking back down at the table. Mason watched a tear run down George's cheek. He reached up and brushed it away.

"Did I hurt you?" George let out a laugh, shaking her head quickly.

"No, no you didn't do anything like that," Mason nodded.

"So what did I do?" George paused, debated telling him.

"You don't wanna know," said George finally, her voice barely above a whisper.


George's phone rang. She groaned as she looked at the i.d. seeing Mason was calling her.

"What?" asked George as she answered. She expected him to call, just not so early.

"George, I need your help."

"What's wrong Mason?" asked George rolling out of bed onto the floor and stifling a grunt.

"I think I remember where your house key is, but you should let me in just because," George rolled her eyes and turned off the phone.

As George bounced down the stairs quietly, she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. Curious, she moved towards the kitchen. Nothing happened. George crossed her arms over her chest and looked out the window. A whooshing sound startled George as the sprinklers came on, hitting the kitchen window in a stream.

George decided to ignore th noise and turned around to head for the front door. She jumped as Mason appeared out of nowhere, soaking wet and grinning sheepishly at her. He held out a jey for her to see.

"Found it."

George tried to calm her breathing. She glared at him and smacked him across the arm.

"Fucker! You scared the hell out of me!" said George loudly. Mason laughed at her and tried to fend her off.

Somehow the two ended up very close together, breathing heavily. Mason stared down at her, his lips brushing against her nose. George swallowed, leaning her chest against him and nuzzling her forehead against his jaw. George slid her hands down along his chest, feeling him shake beneath his wet clothes.

"We should get you out of these clothes," said George softly. Mason nodded.

"Wet clothes are bad for your health," he muttered, slipping his fingers under the heme of George's shirt.

"My clothes are perfectly fine Mason," said George, pulling his hands out from under her shirt. "It's yours clothes we need to take off."

"Then let's take them off," George nodded dumbly and backed Mason up towards the stairs.


"Hey George. Feel like hangin' out?" George looked up at Mason as he leaned against the wall of her cubical. She looked at him closely.

"Are you waisted?" asked George. Mason frowned slightly.

"No, why?" George frowned this time, pouting her lip out slightly.

"You never visit me when you're sober," Mason looked at her oddly.

"What? Of course I do-."

"No you don't!" shouted George, tears bursting into her eyes. Her co-workers starred at her, Mason looked surprised, his mouth hanging open slightly.

"Jesus George," muttered Mason harshly, reaching over and grabbing hold of her wrist and almost dragging her out of Happy Time. George allowed herself to be dragged out of her cubical and into the elevator, Mason pressed the button leading up to the roof. Mason let George go once the elevator door closed

"Alright, what did I do?" George didn't answer her, just looked at the elevator buttons. Mason rolled his eyes as the elevator dinged. George walked out of the elevator as the cold air blew, causing her hair to billowed behind her.

"George! What the fuck did I do that has you so pissed at me?" George spun around, her cheeks going red from the cold. The tears on her face getting splattered into her hair.

"It's not your fault I guess. I mean you don't really know what you do, you don't remember," Mason looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Do what Georgie girl?"

"When you're drunk," whispered George, crossing her arms. Mason frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you're not yourself when you're drunk," George looked Mason in the eye. "Do you love me?" Mason scoffed in disbelief.

"Excuse me?" George walked closer to him, making him step back.

"Do-you-love-me?" Mason sputtered."Do you?" Mason starred at her.

"No," Mason said incredulously. George nodded.

"You said you did."

"When?" asked Mason, his eyes going wide.

"Last night. Every night. When you come over drunk as a sunk." Mason's eyebrows furrowed. He looked down as George's voice got quieter. "And then you kiss me."

Mason's eyes shoot up too look at George. He shook his head slowly.

"George-."

"I know," said George running her hand over her face and brushing the hair out of her eyes. "I know you don't love me, you barely even like me, all I am is a co-worker to you. But I- I don't know, you're a different person. You talk to me, you make me feel special."

Mason shook his head again, running his hand threw his hair and sighing. "I am sorry George," began Mason, running his hand threw his hair again, making it stand on end. "I am so sorry I did this to you."

"You don't have to apologize...," Mason nodded.

"You're right. You should," George's mouth dropped.

"Excuse me?"

"You should apologize, you took advantage of me."

"'I took advantage' of you?" George scoffed and shook her head. "I prefer you drunk," she hissed, her tears gone. Mason scoffed right back at her.

"You would."

George glared at him. "It' not my fault I fell in love-."

Mason clapped his hand over her mouth.

"Don't," he began. "Don't say it."

George's fingers entwined around Mason's, pulling his hand away from her mouth.

"I'm sorry Mason," said George softly, raising herself on her toes and kissing Mason softly. "It's not my fault.

George smiled at him. Mason heard her heart break, he watched her walk back to the roof's elevator. George watched her reflection as the elevator door closed. Her reflection looked back at her, a tear slipping down her cheek


George sat on her bed, her pillow hugged to her chest. Hot tears slipping down her face. She sniffed as there was a nock at her bedroom door . Not waiting for George to answer the door, Daisy walked in.

"Hey sweety, are you ok?" asked Daisy sitting on the edge of her bed. She brushed back George's hair as she nodded. Daisy nodded back and left her rom, shutting the door with a soft click.

Her room stayed quiet for awhile until her phone rang. George looked over at her charger where her cell was hooked up. Reaching over, George answered, not bothering with the i.d.

"Hello?" Mason's (on the other end of the line) heart wrenched at the depressing tone in her voice.

"Hi George," George's lips parted, speechless.

"I was wondering if you'd like to hang out." George closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath.

"Are you drunk Mason?" George heard him chuckled into the receiver.

"Nope, not today."


The branch off chapters will come soon, as soon as I don't feel lazy enough to type them up. There's an extended version of Mason and Daisy's argument and smut :D. hope you like it. review peez!

-x-liv