Gift fic for Lucy Kay, for being such a fantastic supporter (and writer, and friend), and for making my whole damn summer with "Somebody Loves You" alone, not to mention the awesome conversations. Hope you like it! Song lyrics are mine, but the characters aren't. Neither is the word "zhuzh", sadly.

Driftwood Duet

"He was free as a dove, and his eyes were so gentle... the strong, silent type, with a heart sentimental..."

Hearing footsteps behind her, Muffy Breckenridge let the old country song trail off momentarily, curly blonde ponytail bouncing as she swiveled her head to catch sight of the passersby.

"Sorry," Tim Hyunh called, waving sheepishly. "Didn't mean to interrupt."

As Muffy nonchalantly waved off Tim's apology with a friendly smile, his wife, Ruby, chimed in: "Lovely song, though, dear. You have such a pretty voice."

Muffy's cheeks went warm and pink at the praise. "Aww! Well, thank you so much, Mrs. Hyunh! You folks have a lovely evening, alright?" Watching the happy couple wave and head off towards the woods, Muffy let a sigh pop from her glossed lips. Eyes drifting up to a farmhouse up high on a hillside, her alto twang drifted once more into the September night: "My gaze locked with his at the touch of his hand, my heart soared so high and it never did land..."

She felt her mouth curve into a small smile once more as the lights went on in the farmhouse, and looked away. A content feeling settled within her - it had become more and more familiar with each passing week. It had even gradually evolved into... happiness? A feeling of warmth jolted through Muffy at the realization - she was finally smiling for them.

In the months past, staring up at that particular house had filled her with bitterness and sorrow, her heart tearing a bit further whenever the lights dimmed. She had always found herself thinking about the happy couple in there, maybe snuggled together and reading or watching TV, or perhaps unknowingly acting out things she herself had once fantasized about. Things that she might have reluctantly admitted she still fantasized about every so often, up until recently.

Still, Muffy reasoned, it was better to make peace and move on - move forward. This heartbreak had hurt, certainly - perhaps it hadn't had her longest recovery period ever, but it certainly ranked up there. Yet, after what seemed like an endless string of philanderers, burnouts, and horribly misguided attempts to fix men she deemed broken... Jack Stewart had helped restore some of her faith in decent people and happy endings, even if this one hadn't been her own. He'd done it all without ever truly knowing how she'd felt.

Yet, he couldn't have all the credit to himself...

"There's the Muffleupagus!"

A small jolt jerked Muffy's attentions back down to earth, and she instinctively grinned at the gravel-worn voice coming from behind her - as well as the nickname. Just the man she'd been waiting for. "Hey, Griff. Slow night?" She scooted over on the large piece of driftwood upon which she sat, patting the spot next to her.

At a tall and lanky forty-eight years, Griffin Conway groaned softly as he sat himself down next to his co-worker, fingers casually laced and hanging between his open knees. "Just about. May as well have been closed, but then that Rock feller wouldn't have come lookin' for you."

Muffy's shadowed green eyes sparkled, reflecting the ocean as she giggled. "Ooh, a Rockefeller, you say? Rit-zy!"

With his own good-natured, hoarse chuckle, Griffin sighed and stretched his spidery legs out. "Aww, y'all know that dang'ol ayk-sint ah mahn done did me no good," he retorted in an exaggerated drawl, pulling an even louder fit of giggles from the blonde. "Just ask mah sister-wahhhf," he continued teasingly, relishing the way her face reddened with mirth and her giggles grew shrill.

Calming down, Muffy wiped her eyes. "Honey, you're more southern gentleman than hillbilly! Cut it out!"

Griffin chuckled. "Uh-oh! I've been talkin' to people like this a bit too long, then." Voice becoming more delicate and refined, he added, "Maybe I should be a charming lil' belle, like Miss Muffalo here."

Giving him a playful swat on the shoulder, Muffy laughed once more, hugging her knees and stretching one leg forward. Kicking off her red pumps, she traced a bubblegum-pink toenail in the soft, golden sand, drawing a small heart as the tides lapped mere inches away. "So, Rock came looking for me, right? Tim and Ruby passed by earlier, but I haven't seen him..."

"Didn't know where you were, so he got distracted and wandered off," Griffin explained, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck loudly. At the barmaid's wince, he shrugged. "Ah, right, I forgot - sorry."

Her neck suddenly feeling very stiff, Muffy rubbed it, shrugging back. "No harm done, honey. But thanks for not knowing where I was." At the raise of the bartender's bushy gray eyebrows, she threw her hands into her lap and frowned. "I think... Rock thinks I'm still about as desperate as he is. Like I'm gonna wither up and die if he doesn't rip off my dress right there and give it to me like it's Christmas morning, y'know?"

Feeling his face burn a bit, Griffin cleared his throat, looking away from the curvy blonde. "Uh-huh. Vivid little thing, ain't ya?"

Muffy shook her head, ponytail bouncing as she grimaced. "He needs to get laid something fierce, but that's his problem. I've got way higher standards than I used to..." With this, she drew the outline of an arrow in the sand-heart, now beginning to trace her initials in the upper-right corner. Below the initials, she drew a plus sign.

"Someone in mind, then?" Griffin asked curiously, watching her work. The past few months, he'd steadfastly filled the role of friendly ear as Muffy aired out her grievances over bottle after bottle of wine: how she'd hung back from Jack for far too long out of fear, and now had lost her best chance in years; how men like him didn't just come out of a box from a store; how foolish and pathetic she sounded, being so desperate for love to finally stay with her; how her confidence had plummeted and she just felt pitiful.

Yet, over time, with his gentle urging, grief became acceptance - it wasn't meant to be. None of the bad ones were meant to be, and at least she was alone with another chance, instead of stuck in a toxic relationship. She was more than her own lapses in judgement, or her lover's failures.

As she began to drink in his words more often than she did the wine, acceptance became hope - she was still young, still fun-loving, and plenty of good people didn't really find true love until later in life - and a thirty-something was far from "later", in her book. The end goal would be worth the past pain. She'd had that spark once, and it hadn't come from nowhere. Her meant-to-be was still waiting for her, and damn it, she'd zhuzh her hair, paint a stunning face on, and click her heels over to that happy destiny someday, even if she had to wait until she was seventy years old to get there.

And just recently, hope had seemed to be bleeding into drive. Griffin's heart soared for her when she proclaimed her readiness to sashay back into the fray with more confidence than she'd afforded herself in the past. More wisdom, more maturity. Her foot paused, and he saw her stare thoughtfully out at the waves once his question registered.

"I've had a few thoughts," she answered vaguely, tilting her head as she idly swept the heart out - she did, after all, have standards, and that heart was far too corny even for her tastes. Looking over at the older man - nearly fifteen years on her, still as gangly as a teenager despite his bushy, graying ponytail and mustache - she smiled gently. "Just been biding my time out here, figuring out what to say to him. I mean, I see him all the time, so you'd think it'd be easy, right?"

Eyes widening some beneath his heavy brows, Griffin blinked. Once, twice, three times.

"And," Muffy continued, cocking her head coyly as she began to draw with her toe once more, "he's been so good to me when I've been blind stinkin' drunk, wailing my heart out..."

M...B...

"...Or just plain blind,'" she continued, humming softly as she kept working.

...&...

"Because he always treats me with respect. I'm not 'the girl', 'the crush', any of that to him. He treats me like... Muffy. And I wouldn't have it any other way... because he's a good man..."

...G...C.

"...With a good heart. And he can play a mean guitar!" she finished with a smile and a wink, placing a manicured hand atop his.

"...Me?" Griffin finally managed, pointing his free hand at himself as the crickets began to sing their praises at the joyous news. "Huh. Wow. I never thought... huh."

"Never?" Muffy echoed, tilting her head and frowning slightly.

Backpedaling, Griffin held his hands up. "Oh, no, don't take it the wrong way! I'd love to! I mean, it's just... I - well, you're so..." He gestured to Muffy, looking at a loss for words, while she grinned wryly. "And, well, me, I'm..." This time, he indicated himself, hands finally spreading out into a helpless shrug. "Y'know, kinda just... kinda look like a Muppet and all..."

At this, Muffy couldn't help but loudly burst out laughing, leaning against a bewildered and awkwardly-smiling Griffin, tears dragging her mascara down her cheeks. Griffin chuckled weakly, feeling her nails dig into his shoulder as she fought to regain control of herself.

"A... a Muppet?!" she squeaked, wiping her eyes and looking at her makeup-streaked fingers in confusion. Shrugging it off with a smile, she sighed happily, giving him a playful shove. "Where'd that even come from? Well, Kermit, good thing I think Muppets are really cute!"

Grin widening a bit as he relaxed, Griffin tentatively put an arm around her shoulder, stomach fluttering when Muffy grabbed his hand and slipped it into a more comfortable position. Was this really happening? "Always figured I was more like one of those band Muppets or somethin'. You know, a music man. Play a mean guitar, right?"

"Need a groupie, hon?" Muffy said slyly, grinning up at him when his eyes crinkled at the corners.

A raspy chuckle slipped out into the warm night. "Pretty voice like yours, how 'bout you sing lead?" Griffin teased. "Figured you were sitting here, leading sailors to their doom with the way you were crooning."

To her credit, Muffy looked more pleased than surprised at his comment, and she hunched her shoulders a bit shyly. "Ohhhh, so you heard my little performance earlier too, huh?"

The grizzled bartender nodded, rubbing her upper arm. "Wish I'd brought my guitar along, yep. Would've made a hell of a show!"

Putting a finger to her lips, Muffy cocked her head to the side, humming in mock-thought. "Mmmm, yeah. Too bad, huh?"

Cottoning on, Griffin nodded, rolling his shoulders and neck again. "Guess we'll just have to wing it, eh... where'd you leave off? Uhh, 'my heart...'"

"Soared so high that it never did land," Muffy finished, her smooth alto layering over his gruff baritone. "A beautiful-"

"-Woman, with hair blonde and fluffy," Griffin went on with a small smile, his words clashing with Muffy's, as her voice trailed off in confusion. As it dawned on her where he was taking this, her face started to brighten in amusement.

"Awww, Griff-"

"The pretty, sweet songbird the townsfolk call 'Muffy!'" he finished with a mock bow, as Muffy squealed and clapped. "Heh. Mess up the words any?"

Shrugging, the giddy blonde giggled. "Well, I like your version better, anyway! Here, lemme try one about you, now..."

From a large piece of driftwood perched on the beach, the two continued to lend their playful music to the valley's breezy night air, voices intertwining with the crickets and the waves even as the windows far behind them began to darken for the evening.

Up high on a hillside, unnoticed by either of them, the lights dimmed in the farmhouse.

Author's Notes: Yeah, is it obvious I've never written for either character before? (God, Ruby was hard to write. Wait, that's not who I meant...) Still, I adore this pairing, as well as both individual characters - thus, was this hunk of corn brought forth (also, I was on a mission to give Muffy the preppiest name I could come up with).

Props again to Lucy Kay, whose upbeat attitude compelled me to try something new: Write a one-shot that ends happily for all involved, and use the word "zhuzh" in a story (that one may have been my own personal goal). Hopefully the endeavor worked out alright!