Title: Crazy About a Sharp Dressed Man
Setting: Some happy moment in the future
Crazy About a Sharp-Dressed Man
“S’bloody brilliant, trust me. Saw it a century ago in Berlin, made my heart go pitter-patter, it did.”
She is still trying to wrap her mind around it. “Okay. Okay. Opera. You want to go to the opera with me. Even pretending for a second that I believe you, even pretending that I want to go-”
“You’ll enjoy this one, promise.”
“- you can’t go looking like that.”
He rolls his eyes. “Well, obviously. 'll have you know I can dress up with the best of them. Look quite dashing in a tux, if I do say so myself.”
“Uh-huh. So says the vampire who hasn’t changed his look in over thirty years. Once you obsess over something, that’s it. Nothing else exists for you. You’re done. Finito. Case in point: you can’t even name anybody recent on the radio.”
“I can like many different things,” he insists. “Just because I have a distinct preference for a certain genre doesn’t negate the possibility that I could enjoy other musical styles.” He sounds waaay too much like Giles right now and she scoffs at him.
“I don’t believe you even know other musical styles exist.”
He cocks an eyebrow in response. “You do realize I’ve been around since long before punk?”
“You do realize this is not an attractive quality in a boyfriend?” she shoots back.
“Can’t help it if I’m loyal,” he purrs, a gleam in his eye. “Thought you liked it I decide what I want most and stay with it, never change my mind no matter what other options there are. ‘Course, I could get to looking around, maybe there’s a newer style out now, one I might like better.”
Her eyes narrow, but her lips twitch.
The night at the opera?
Ugh. Fright at the opera. Dreadful caterwauling in some foreign language that makes no sense. But he enjoys it. Hums along, taps his fingers on his tuxedo-clad thigh the same as to his dreadful punk. This makes it worthwhile. Makes her agree to go again the next time he suggests it.
That and, yes, he does look quite dashing in a tux.