"Is that the best idea?" Not to spoil the party, but someone had to make an attempt at being responsible and learning from their mistakes. As long as an attempt was made, no one could criticize them. Sitwell glanced around as he sidled closer to the ledge to a) make sure there were witnesses to his maturity and b) make sure Miss Maximoff wasn't one of them because she was possibly the worst offender in the last disaster and keeping their distance might save somebody an annulment. "Before that," he insisted, so before he forgot anything of any importance, and pulled a thoroughly folded sheet of paper from his pocket. It was a little worse for the wear already, but must have been new enough because he admitted, "It wasn't a lot of notice and I didn't know if we were doing gifts..." But he didn't really mean to make excuses for what it was. It was done and he did his best for not being able to survive daylight. The sheet he handed her was reservations for a pair of tickets to Kinky Boots, which might have explained the redness of his ears until it was out of his hand and he could look out as Wicked had over the city, sipping his drink so he didn't have to talk about it any more. It seemed like something she'd like, anyway.