Appointments

[thatmadbastard]

Comments

[thatmadbastard]

Ah, the reluctant sheep in wolf's clothing. How charming.

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.]

[herotypical]

That's just the problem, Guy. In the end? He's not much of my type either. Bad boy or not.

[ oh, fine. she'll put him out of his misery. ] His name's jack.

[thatmadbastard]

The question is whether or not I know Jack. Has he a surname, by chance or birth?

[herotypical]

Chance, I think.

[ 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.

[thatmadbastard]

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.]

Birds of a feather, are you?

[herotypical]

I think you've just accidentally managed to frame my entire thought process. A year's worth of thought process.

[ initial surprise. speculation. lovely appeal. ]

Maybe it's more correct to say that opposites attract.

[thatmadbastard]

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.]

[herotypical]

And a heartbeat doesn't hurt. Am I right?

[ buffy tilts her head towards the bar. ] Buy you a drink, o-bathed-one?

[thatmadbastard]

The loved one being living is always preferable.

[You have no idea how right you are, Buffy.]

As if I could decline!

[He can't.]

[herotypical]

...Always. [ she responded a little weakly.

then: ] Right. Come on. Good Spirits it is, then?

[thatmadbastard]

As if I would let anyone else any place else pour my drinks.

[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.]

[herotypical]

[ 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.

[thatmadbastard]

[He doesn't need terms, but since she's the bartender and a good conversationalist, he'd let her set them anyway.]

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.]

[herotypical]

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.

[thatmadbastard]

He would make a very good drinking fellow. I don't think he'd protest if I asked him to join me some evening.

[A pause.]

I'll refrain from trying to take him off your lovely hands. [Then a smirky little grin.]

[herotypical]

Oh. He drinks. Rum, though. Which is just about as gross as gin, in my books.

[thatmadbastard]

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.

Not a fan of liquor I take it?

[herotypical]

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.

[thatmadbastard]

A face to accompany your habits! Oh, I hope so. I'm sure it's quite a show, from the way you say it.

[He looks as curious as he sounds. It's one way of getting to know the mettle of people, seeing them with a few spirits.]

Perhaps on a poorer day I'll offer my own ridiculous display and breakfast when you feel even worse come morning.

[herotypical]

Mmm. Breakfast. You know what they say about breakfast, right? Most important meal of the day. Okay, so sometimes I eat it before I even go to bed but...that still counts. Right?

[thatmadbastard]

So they tell me. My habits aren't so steadfast, but I follow my desires. Something of a lifestyle, so I should think it counts. Breakfast is my favourite.

[herotypical]

[ she reaches for the bar door. ]

Waffles. Me? I particularly like waffles.

[thatmadbastard]

[He tries to take the edge of the door as she swings it to hold it open for her.]

I make waffles. I like toast in the mornings, though cakes are always good. With plenty atop them. Black sausages, eggs.

[herotypical]

[ she lets go of his arm and walks in backwards -- maintaining eye contact. ]

Cakes? Of the pan-variety, I assume?

[thatmadbastard]

[Guy follows her through the door, seemingly proud of himself.]

The very one! Perhaps you will have to come join our lot over at the house for the occasion of breakfast. Or I could throw Anthony and Kim for a terrible hoop and do as you so enjoy. Fix it for dinner!