[ a thoroughly tickled laugh. ] D-docile? Well, I'll give boyish to you. Doesn't matter how much I push the age gap and date an older guy -- they all act like twelve-year-olds, in the end. This one's no exception.
[ she says nothing of the spar, but guy has it very very correct on that count. ]
Men will always act like little boys. Veni Vidi Vici, as they say. Practically old as time, the phrase and it's still bloody true.
So he's older. Intellectual, I'd think. Though despite being one, I'd think, he'd need to be someone who doesn't look it. He wouldn't be physically weak. Perhaps a bit roguish looking? Women do love their bad boys.
They all do, darling. It's the sexual appeal of an athlete who breaks all the rules.
[He smirks at her a bit before standing. His head cocks to the side and replaces his fedora atop his still-dripping mop of hair after slicking through it with his fingers.]
Ahh, a pirate! I've only met one pirate named Jack, and while I'm rather surprised initially, I can see the appeal after this lovely bit of speculation.
[He rather likes the man himself! But honestly, far better drinking partner than bedmate.]
Opposites attract so long as the opposite is in the tastes of the pair. It doesn't happen entirely out of nowhere. Somewhere along the line of begrudging acceptance, loving arguments and knowing they're everything you're not... you discover it's in your preferences.
[Says the man who has has few relationships and far too many jaunts to number.]
[ she hooks her arm around his -- lightly, casually. it's done in a manner that certainly suggests she was doing so on a great many of her own terms. she likes to grandstand like that. just a bit. ]
Ah. See? That's what I like. Alcoholic loyalty. Which isn't to say....I just meant -- y'know, of the alcohol variety. Not...AA-style.
Gin. I remember. Besides -- let us please loop back to the part where I admitted to dating Jack Sparrow. I think my notion of what defines an alcoholic has been...severely rewritten.
I drank with him once. We had whiskey together. I do enjoy a good whiskey when the occasion or the company calls for it. Perhaps he thought our meeting a good occasion.
Sometime, Mister Burgess? When we're better friends and I'm having a way worse day? You might actually get to witness what's locally known as the Summers Booze Face.
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[ she says nothing of the spar, but guy has it very very correct on that count. ]
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So he's older. Intellectual, I'd think. Though despite being one, I'd think, he'd need to be someone who doesn't look it. He wouldn't be physically weak. Perhaps a bit roguish looking? Women do love their bad boys.
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[ but who wouldn't, in the end? ]
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[He smirks at her a bit before standing. His head cocks to the side and replaces his fedora atop his still-dripping mop of hair after slicking through it with his fingers.]
So I'm right?
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[Oh, this is interesting.]
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Oh. That's a toughie. Both? In denial about reforming, maybe?
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Of the lot of men here, I can't say I've a guess for a name. Though, have courage, he's not my type.
[As if that was supposed to comfort you.]
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[ oh, fine. she'll put him out of his misery. ] His name's jack.
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[ at least, she's deduced that it isn't a family name. nope. all the seven seas... ]
There might even be a rule about pirates and names of chance.
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[He rather likes the man himself! But honestly, far better drinking partner than bedmate.]
Birds of a feather, are you?
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[ initial surprise. speculation. lovely appeal. ]
Maybe it's more correct to say that opposites attract.
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[Says the man who has has few relationships and far too many jaunts to number.]
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[ buffy tilts her head towards the bar. ] Buy you a drink, o-bathed-one?
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[You have no idea how right you are, Buffy.]
As if I could decline!
[He can't.]
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then: ] Right. Come on. Good Spirits it is, then?
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[He takes note of the dimming quality, but decides against pursuing that train of thought. At least for now.
Being the gentleman he is, he offers an arm to her. Even ponces have manners.]
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Ah. See? That's what I like. Alcoholic loyalty. Which isn't to say....I just meant -- y'know, of the alcohol variety. Not...AA-style.
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No worries. I'm not an alcoholic, you see. Alcoholics don't have their preferences, and I most certainly do.
[Stellar logic there. But he believes it with all his heart.]
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[A pause.]
I'll refrain from trying to take him off your lovely hands. [Then a smirky little grin.]
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Not a fan of liquor I take it?
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