Title: Romance and all that jazz

Author: Lusmeitli

Rating: PG-13 (warning for some language)

Show: DA

Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue and Bob’s your uncle

Genre: Romance - I think

Type: Standalone

Pairing: Lizzie and Mr. Darcy

Summary: Alec and Max spending an evening at the cinema.

 

A/N:  This is my Christmas present for Shallowness. For your friendship and all your support. Merry Christmas, luv.

 

A/N2: Oh, and this clearly is AU.

 

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Pride and Prejudice. What a crappy title for a film that was. He should have known. It really was a dead give away. He just should have gone home with her and forget about that whole movie thing. Just some take out, a repeat of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (which was his latest addiction, yes, he really liked kick-ass-chicks) and then some shagging. But no.

 

There he was, looking forward to spending a night out in the movies with his girlfriend, hoping for some good horror or action flick. He knew he was doomed when the camera showed trees and a field. No chance of a guy with a roaring chainsaw stepping through the mist and having some fun. But oh no. Real horror. A chick flick.

 

So he tried to see the bright side of it. Some alone time with Max in a dark room full of people, it sure was a thrill. The thought of getting caught. Actually, it was a turn on. Usually Max was up for that sort of thing. Only this time, she didn’t seem interested in, nor did she appreciate being felt up. She actually swatted his hands away and had threatened to do something extremely obscene to his crown jewels if he didn’t stop it. Just the mere thought of it had him wincing.

 

Okay, so maybe he should have just stopped his efforts the first time she told him to. But it was her own fault really. Why did she have to wear such an impossibly tight and tiny top? That was intention per se, right? It screamed “take me off” all the way. Obviously, Max disagreed. Obviously, she liked to torture him on purpose.

 

So he did what was the only option left for a man in his situation: he started to comment on the film. The ridiculous costumes. The odd language. The lack of boobs. The lack of action. The lack of explosions and guns. The impossible length of some sideburns. Which brought him a punch in the face after a few growled warnings. Maybe he shouldn’t have ignored those.

 

And as he sat, with his head tilted back to stop the blood flow from his nose, he had nowhere else to look but at that damn screen. Just his luck that the only free seats had been about six rows away from the screen. That’d require a really nice neck rub from Max to make up for this. Or sex.

 

If it weren’t so touchy, he’d have pinched the bridge of his nose. Or rolled his eyes. Only rolling your eyes is no fun when no one can see it. That’s the whole point in rolling your eyes, someone seeing it and getting pissed off over it. And he so liked pissing off Max. She got all angry then, her eyes ablaze and she would shout at him, punch him even (the same old story, really). Yes, he loved his Max all furious. And only he could shut her up. And it was so simple, too.

 

The first few times when she had blown up right into his face, he had tried to talk his way out of it. Oh, he got out alright, but it was a really big effort. And at a few points in time he really was sweating.

 

Whatever made him kiss her that other time, he had no clue. The moment he did it, he thought that must have been his very worst idea. He was so going to get his ass whipped. When she responded passionately – really, really on fire – he had to admit that maybe it had been his very best. He was convinced of that after the sex.

 

Indeed, he loved his seething-with-rage-I’m-gonna-use-Alec-as-punching-bag-and-then-have-some-steamy-make-up-sex-Max. Very sexy.

 

So he sat through it, like a man, and sighed – manly – occasionally. Just to let Max know he was still there and up for a bit of a heavy petting session should she have changed her mind about this incredibly boring film. She, disturbingly enough, seemed determined to watch the film to the very end.

 

Alec huffed.

 

“Go to the movies,” Sketchy had said, “chicks love horror films, go watch one of those, they’ll crawl into your chest and you get to feel them up without having to think of an excuse or getting slapped. And they won‘t notice if you close your eyes during the really gooey scenes, too”.

 

He liked the part with the feeling up Max in a public place, so they went. Break the routine of “take out dinner, TV, sex”. He swore to never listen to Sketchy again. Ever. Horror films were sold out. Obviously every guy seemed to know of the perfect date-secret. So he thought they’d watch an action film. But those were sold out, too. Only thing free was this damn movie, and he had so hoped to find this was a really good bloody murder movie.

 

But instead seemed to be about misty landscapes… and wandering around in misty landscapes… and drinking tea… and dresses… and men in… tights?… doing… some weird… kind… of… danczzzz………

 

So he now sat hunched over, favoring his left side. Max’ elbow surely had squashed his liver. Or at least a kidney. It was not his fault that he fell asleep over such a boring film. And he didn’t believe Max that he actually had snored. He didn’t snore. This gene was NOT in his cocktail, period.

 

Alec moaned – inwardly, of course. They were wandering about in the rain. Making eyes at one another. It was beyond him how people could call this a classic when they didn’t just get it on and out of their systems. Okay, if he were a girl, he’d probably have reservations about sleeping with a guy in tights, too. At least they looked like tights. Breeches, whatever. But a little bit of good porn would certainly up the entertainment level of this film.

 

Romantic his foot, Alec thought. Boring was what it was. And he couldn’t understand what was so attractive about that Mr. Darcy anyways that would make all the females in the room – including Max! – sigh, each time he appeared on that frigging screen. It was not like he was sexy or anything. Well, what Alex thought chicks would find sexy. In other words: him. But who was he to understand a girl’s mind.

 

So he had a little bit of a look around. Just to his side, there was a chap looking as tortured as Alec felt. Their eyes met and they nodded at each other compassionately. Welcome to the club of tortured boyfriends, misled to believe they’d actually get to feel up their girlfriends in the dark. And then some.

 

It wasn’t his fault really that he nodded off again. It really was the film. He felt Max squeeze his hand – yes, squeeze his hand. And in an affectionate manner no less. And when he turned to look at her, she quickly smiled at him and intertwined her fingers with his.

 

When she laid her head on his shoulder and sighed, he didn’t find it so bad anymore at all. He could smell her shampoo and feel her body heat radiate through her clothes and burn into his skin. He had to admit he kind of that. Romantic Max. It was a new side to her. This cuddly-touchy-feely-huggy-Max.

 

Also, her resting her head on his shoulder allowed him to sleep without being caught. And when he drooled onto her hair, she obviously seemed to think he cried along with her.

 

Max had looked at him strangely and had said something like, “I didn’t know you had a romantic side in you, I like it”. And when she cuddled up in his arms and sighed, dabbing at some leftover tears with his pullover, he kind of liked that romantic side to him, too.

 

Particularly if it meant it turned Max on enough to pull him in for a bit of steamy smooching in public.

 

When they got home, she wanted him to make love to her all night long. Slowly. In the candle light. That he did. And when he lay there afterwards, looking at her glowing face, he had to admit that maybe – but really just maybe – all that romantic stuff wasn’t that annoying. If it made his girl so hungry for love, he’d even seriously consider going to sleep through another chick flick with her. They showed Sense and Sensibility next week. Maybe another trip to the cinema might be very well worth it.

 

FIN