Take My Roommate… Please!
Summary: Inspired by a classic film and a line from the actual movie. David and Elizabeth unknowingly share an apartment, one living there by day, the other by night… until Fate intervenes.
Pairings: Eventual David/Elizabeth
A/N: Based on the film "Rafter Romance" from the '30s starring Ginger Rogers.
"Grace, I said no!" Elizabeth Masterson stormed into her living room followed closely by her landlady-slash-aspiring real estate agent, the Grace in question.
"Would you at least consider it?" the other woman reasoned not unkindly, clasping her clipboard in front of her.
"Oh, okay," Elizabeth snapped, turning around with her hands on her hips. "Hmmm… I'm considering it… nope. Not happening."
"There's no need to be snippy," Grace countered.
"How did you think I would be?" the young blonde shouted, throwing up her hands. "Why did you even propose this?"
"Because," Grace sighed, "I have a very nice young man with nowhere to stay who is more than willing to pay his way-"
"But why me? Why this apartment?"
"Sweetie, you're always working," Grace noted. "You're never here."
Elizabeth stared at her shoes. "That's not true," she defended meekly.
"He's also looking for a pad that's fully furnished, so you don't have to worry about him moving things in or around here," Grace continued. "And, as I tried to mention earlier, he's willing to pay half the rent, which means a lot seeing as this place isn't exactly cheap," she remarked, looking around the spacious loft.
"If this is about the money I don't see why," Elizabeth noted. "I have no trouble making payments. I'm a doctor for crying out loud! I'm about to be made resident."
"Meaning you'll be here even less," Grace concluded, knowing full well how thick she was laying on the guilt.
"Shutting up now," Elizabeth sighed.
"It's a win-win situation," Grace pointed out. "You're helping a nice guy out while saving yourself some of that hard-earned money. Who knows," she added, "maybe you can use some of that extra cash to take a vacation."
Elizabeth sighed one last time before uncrossing her arms and plopping down on the couch.
"Fine," she remarked, picking up the clipboard with her new roommate's information on it, "but if he turns out to be some hobo who wandered in off the street I'm going to be severely disappointed in you.
"This is it, right?" David Abbott asked as he set his bags down in the entryway.
"Yes, now if you'll follow me, I can take you on a tour…" Grace instructed before turning around to find client gone. "Mr. Abbott?"
At the sound of his name, the man in question wandered down from the roof and ambled into the kitchen wordlessly. Grace moved to follow him but instead found herself backing up as he passed her, entering the living area.
"The view is nice," he remarked.
"Yes, yes it is," Grace replied, grateful to have something to talk about. Deep down, she knew, David was a nice, earnest, hard-working man… but socially he was a little challenged. "They say that if you look out this exact window, past the Golden Gate Bridge-"
"So is the deal really going through?" he interrupted. "Am I really going to be living here?"
"Yes," Grace replied, "by some miracle of God," she added under her breath. "The woman who lives here currently has graciously agreed to set up a timetable: she gets the apartment from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. since she works mostly nights, and you get the place from 8 p.m. to 8 a.m. since you work during the day. Ideally, you never have to cross paths, which is fine since you're both, well, a tad antisocial, and everyone lives happily ever after. Sound good?"
" 'She?' " David repeated, as if thrown for a loop by the second word of Grace's spiel.
"Yes, a woman lives here. Is that… a problem?" Grace queried hesitantly. It had been hard enough to find him a place that suited his 'personality,' so help her God, not to mention getting Elizabeth to agree to the arrangement…
"I can't sleep in her bed," David said absentmindedly, almost to himself.
"Well, I suppose-"
"Can I sleep on the couch?"
"The couch?" Grace blinked in surprise. "I don't see why not."
"Good," David replied, plopping down between the cherry-red seat cushions. "I like the couch."