tampered | Everyone raise your glasses!

When; Evening of Tuesday, August 13th
Rating; PG-13, at best. Angela's on her best behavior tonight.
Characters; It's Ginny's birthday party and everybody Ginny knows was invited. Let's handwave that and just show up. BTW, IT'S BLACK TIE. PUT ON YOUR SUITS, BOYS.
Summary; There's no legal drinking age in the City, but who says we can't party like there was one anyway?
Log;

This party was four years coming. The restaurant has set aside a large room just for this event and on short notice too. The food is plentiful and of various cuisines, with even a large selection of vegetarian options for those who prefer that. But of course, there is more alcohol than one has ever seen because Angela knows the people she invited and knows quite a few of them have liquor in their veins instead of blood. Rule of thumb: more liquid than solids every time.

Everything's set and ready for the birthday girl to make her appearance, so for the time being, Angela's flitting around the place dressed in more subdued colors than usual, choosing black because no one gets to stand out more than Ginny tonight, and socializing with the few guests that have shown up already.

Sadly, there are no strippers. Ginny nixed that one hard.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Y'know, I don't think I've ever actually worn jeans.

[That's not even hyperbole. Even in the City, he just doesn't.]

Not invented at your time?

[This isn't actually a joke; just pure curiosity. One day, when they're not at a fancy shindig, she's going to ask him about life in the early 1900's.]

Nah, they exist, it just ain't the kinda thing I'd be wearin' in my day to day life. I ain't a cowboy or somethin', y'know?

You don't have to be a cowboy to wear jeans, Jimmy.

[She laughs, taking a sip of her wine. For a quick second her eyes narrow, like she's inspecting him.]

Besides, the perfect pair can make your ass look really good. [Incentive bomb, go!]

Yeah?

[Jimmy's nothing if not invested in making his ass look good -- hence why his suit pants always fit so well -- and that is incentive.]

You might have to help me pick a pair. I dunno, I see guys wearin' all kinds of things, 'n I just can't figure out what'd look good other than a suit.

[Oh, she'll help you pick one just to take it--Okay, back to the conversation.]

You should come by the shop when you have time. There's a ton of extra pairs of jeans just collecting dust. One should fit you.

Sure, I'll do that. Long as you promise not to make me look silly.

[A pause.]

Does this mean I have to wear a t-shirt, too?

You don't have to wear a shirt at all.

[That's mumbled into her glass and she kind of hopes he hears her. Because.]

No, but that's what goes best with them.

[He definitely heard that. His grin just spreads.]

Well, like I said, you'll have to help me out. I don't know a whole lot about fashion, 'n you seem like the kinda person that'd know exactly what'd look good, judgin' from how you're dressed tonight.

Easy on the compliments, tiger. My head might get huge and I'll start thinking this is my party.

[No, continue, please. It'll wear her down eventually.]

What, I'm only allowed to compliment the person who's the subject of the party? Seems kinda unfair to me, when there're gorgeous people like you around.

No, but save most of them for her. It's her night. Come back to me when it's over.

[She's not actually serious about this.]

Believe me, I complimented her, too, but there's somethin' about you...

[A slow, cocky grin.]

Well. If you want me to come back to you when it's over, I won't be complainin' about that, either.

That something being you want to screw me senseless.

[Forgive her bluntess. No, actually, accept it because this is the Angela Jimmy's going to get.]

I do.

[He's pretty blunt, too. It works.]

But you said you were celibate, 'n I respect that. On the other hand, last time I checked, celibacy doesn't apply to everythin' fun.

You are respecting it and I appreciate that. I'm just stating the facts like I see them.

[No, it doesn't apply to everything fun, but she's a curious creature and wants to see where he draws the personal line.]

Define fun.

Well...

[He makes a show of thinking about it.]

To start with, I think kissing's pretty damn fun, 'n nobody could call that sex, right?

[And you have to admit, Angela, he has a lovely mouth.]

[Now it's her turn to give a slow, sure grin.]

No, that's definitely not sex. Intimacy, yes, but sex, no.

[And every time he talks, she's staring at it.]

'n y'know, I don't think touchin' through clothes counts as sex, either.

[He's not actually sure what the definition of sex is, as far as celibacy goes, but he's going to keep coming up with responses until she decides something does count as sex, and then he'll stop it there.]

[There's a slight raise to her eyebrows that indicates her interest in said activity.]

Technically, it falls into that intimacy column too.

'n I don't know about touchin' without clothes. I think that starts to get kinda close to sex, but it's probably a fine line. Some of this stuff is probably better experimented with, y'know?

Touching without clothes sets me up for temptation. That's a no go.

[Definitely a fine line that Angela knows she'll cross too easily at a time like this. Better not even go there.]

Well, I wouldn't wanna tempt you.

[Oh yes he would, but he's got to approach this intelligently if he wants to have half a chance with her.]

I promise, the tuxedo'll stay on the whole time.

The tuxedo? [There does that eyebrow again, but this time, it's clearly more amused than ever.] You're going to wear it everyday now?

[She knows exactly what he meant, but where's the fun in taking things at face value?]

If you want me to.

[A pause.]

But I thought you wanted to see me in jeans.

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