A/N: So here's another DLM fic. This is my first entry for the livejournal challenge community, 30Kisses. The series of 30 kisses is going to be called "This Kiss".

Disclaimer: I disclaim all ownership to the characters of George Lass or Mason from this series. I recognize they belong to MGM/Showtime or whoever else owns the rights now. I also inform any interested party that I made no money in the creation or posting of this story.

This Kiss
01: Look Over Here
More Than Most
by Em

"Your most innocent kiss / Or your sweetest caress / Seduces me"
- Celine Dion, "Seduces Me"

Frustrated, George lowered her pen and glared at Mason, "You're staring at me," she declared pointedly.

He smiled in that in that annoyingly calm way he had, "I am wondrously aware of that," he said.

His ready admission threw her and she frowned, "Well...why are you staring at me?" she asked in what she thought was a very reasonable voice.

He leaned his chin on his hand, "Why, because you are a very pleasurable thing to look at, of course."

George flushed and her frown deepened. She thought of several things to say, but none of them made it out of her lips. Finally, she decided on a snort of disgust and went back to her book with a somewhat less than normal audible, "Whatever."

Of course, he continued to stare at her and she continued to pretend to read. And even though she thought to occasionally turn a page, she hadn't retained a single word of her reading. "Stop it."


"Because it's disconcerting and I'm trying to study."

"Why would it be disconcerting?" he asked sensibly.

"Because you're...I'm..." and there her reasoning faltered. She didn't quite know why it was disconcerting. It just was. "It just is," she decided. When his lips curled into a grin, she narrowed her eyes at him, "Do I have to write a fucking dissertation on it or can't I just ask you to stop doing something that's bothering me?" she asked defensively.

"But I don't want to stop staring at you," he said simply.

"You don't..." she trailed off and shook her head. George was so angry she was about ready to burst and she wasn't quite sure why either which only made her angrier, "I don't want to write a paper on the significance of the thousand and one different ways people die in The Iliad on Greek society either, but I have to," she said in frustration. When he looked as if he were waiting for the rest of her reasoning, she exhaled, "And your staring at me is making an already difficult thing all the more difficult, so quit it!"

"But I'm bored and staring at your beautiful features while they're twisted in scholarly endeavors is the most entertaining thing I've found in hours," he said, his British lilt coming out in a bit of a whine.

She glared at him meaningfully, "Are you drunk?" she asked.

He blinked in confusion, "No more than usual," he answered as if it should've been obvious.

She groaned and lowered her head onto the table with a muffled thump. Mercifully, the thick book and notebooks kept her head from hitting the varnished wood of the dining table where she had taken to studying, but she was sure once she lifted her head she would probably have blue ink all over her forehead anyway. Why had she ever thought it might be a good idea to go back to school, she wondered?

"Doesn't that hurt?" he asked sympathetically.

She thought of several choice things she could respond to that, too, but she was completely aware she was being snappish without cause. He really hadn't done anything to her. So why was she so fucking peeved? She'd say she was about to have her period, except she was undead and didn't have her period anymore.

"If you're so bored, why don't you go out and knock over a bank or something?" she asked, her voice muffled.

"It's really very saddening to me that you think so little of me as to even suggest that."

George snorted her belief in the sincerity of that statement. "Fine, a convenience store, then."

"That wounds me, Georgie...it really does."

"Whatever," she mumbled.

"What was that?" he asked and out of the corner of her eye and through her hair she could see him trying to get a glimpse of her face. "I can't hear you unless you speak up and you should really look at me when you talk to someone, you know."

She raised her head off the table and pushed her hair back away from her face with an annoyed swipe of her hand, only to glare at him, "Why don't you go flirt with Daisy and leave me alone to study?" she asked, making certain to enunciate each word so that there was no chance of his saying he hadn't understood her. For the first time, she was glad of Daisy's impromptu diction lessons.

Instead of looking peevish or even actually leaving, as George thought he might, he actually grinned. "Because I'd rather flirt with you."

George narrowed her eyes at him, "I hate to break it to you Mason, but flirting and annoying are NOT the same thing."

His grin only grew, "Where you're concerned they are."

Sometimes it was easy to forget how intelligent Mason actually was. He played the fool so often, it also seemed to catch her by surprise whenever he said something deep or perceptive. She eventually hid her surprise with a glare, but she knew he had seen it. Seeing him this way was rather creepy. "You're really starting to weird me out, Mason," she admitted.

He continued to smile, but somehow, it changed. She couldn't pinpoint how, but it wasn't the same cocky Mason-Smile or the Shit-Faced Mason-Smile or even the Full Out Mason-Leer. "And that's progress, too," he said simply.

"Progress?" she asked, confused and obviously unhappy about it, "Progress toward what?"

Mason thought about his wording very carefully, "Toward the time when you'll really see me," he said.

She blinked in utter confusion at him, trying to process what he said and what he could've meant by that. "No, really, are you on crack?" she finally asked. And then he was looking at her in that way he had as if she was a puppy that had just done something utterly, undeniably cute. She, of course, interpreted the look to mean he thought she was naïve or something. "I see you," she pointed out. "I have fucking eyes, don't I?" She showed her confusion by the waving of her hands, "I've always seen you."

He nodded, "More than most," he conceded, "But not really," he said casually standing and placing a soft peck on her forehead, "Still, I'm working on that," he finished cryptically before walking out of the dining room.


A/N: So I guess it's pretty obvious this would take place sometime post the end of Season 2. Our Georgie-girl is back in school. ((shrug)) Don't ask me why. Or what she's studying for that matter.

If I'm going to make these themes relate to any other theme I'll be sure and tell you that it relates and to which one specifically, otherwise, don't expect it.