Wesley Wyndam Pryce (wes_the_watcher) wrote in vivavampvegas, @ 2010-10-05 17:54:00 |
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Current location: | Restaurant |
Current mood: | happy |
Entry tags: | narcissa mareau, wesley wyndam pryce |
Proposal
Who: Wesley and Narcissa
Where: A Nice Restaurant in Vegas
When: Saturday Night, 10/2
"Bloody Hell, Wesley... I thought Los Angeles was bad, but this place..." Narcissa grumbled as she and Wesley walked out of one of Vegas' many casinos. Clearly she didn't fit in well, what with her leather pants, spiked choker, black lipstick, and skintight Misfits tee. "I feel like I'm in a bad movie, with the most desperate, sneaky, perverse people alive. Like that bloody pub in that Star Wars movie Gwen always watches."
He didn't fit in much better. While his clothing was a little more plain, his manner still stood out horribly in a place like Vegas. "Well, we're not here to do any gambling, anyway." He had actually set up a date for them in the hotel restaurant in one of the nicest places in Vegas, but casinos were always less than wonderful to walk through.
"So, where exactly ARE we going, Wesley?" She asked, already sounding a little annoyed. That was the thing about Cissa: she got easily aggravated... but forgot about it just as easily.
And he knew that. "We're going out on a date, Narcissa," he said to her. "Well, a dinner date and then to a hotel room, but I wanted tonight to be special." For some reason, staying in a hotel was always more fun than staying at home. Go figure.
"Well, I guess even I can't be enough of a bitch to mock that..." She gave in, smirking a little and giving him a saucy wink. It occurred to her then that really... the way each of them looked? It probably looked like he had hired a call girl for the night.
And he could give a damn what others thought. He probably would have just laughed if she had brought that up to him. He was too happy to just BE with her to worry about stuff like that. Finally, they hit the restaurant in the place, which was a bit nicer than the casino. Someone sat them at their table and handed them their menus.
When she saw how nice everyone there was dressed, she turned and gave Wesley a glare so evil and deadly that, well... it had to be almost FUNNY. "Oh, you bloody WANKER... you could've TOLD me we were goin' someplace super-sodding-fancy before I walked out of the house lookin' like a bloody punk-rock call-girl!!"
"I happen to like it when you look like a bloody punk-rock call-girl," he said back to her with another smirk. Sorry, her glares didn't really work on him, or at least this version of him, anyway. "I think you look lovely, and isn't that what matters?
"True." She snorted, glaring at an older woman who seemed to be gawking at them. "So anyway..." She said as she settled into her chair. "What made you decide to have us come here? You know I'm usually happy with some rubbish from McDonalds..."
"Well, rubbish from McDonalds isn't very satisfying," he said with a slight smile, being a little evasive. "Besides, you deserve to be treated to the best." And he believed it, too. Someone was definitely head over heals, wasn't he?
She raised an eyebrow, seeming a bit dubious, as if convinced he was up to something... before finally smirking and crossing her arms. "This feels like something a guy does when he's fucked up and is looking to apologize."
He actually looked like he was thinking for a moment. "I don't *believe* I've done anything wrong to apologize," he said to her. He had wanted to wait until the end of the dinner to propose to her, but if she was going to be suspicious, he might go ahead and do it.
"You don't 'believe'." She repeated, smirking as she held back a chuckle. "You always DID know how to seem... lovably clueless, Wesley." Holding back a laugh, she gave a shot at changing the subject to make him more comfortable. "Do you think I'd look good with green hair? I'm thinking of doing it for Halloween."
"I think you'd look good bald," he said to her. "I'd rather that you didn't shave your head, but my point is that I think you'd look good with any sort of hair." Or outfit or whatever. Apparently it didn't take much to impress him when it came to her.
"Yeah, not so much looking for the cancer-victim look, love." She snorted, obviously very sensitive to the feelings of anyone in hearing distance.
"Well, glad to hear that as well." She did look *better* with hair, anyway. Finally, a waiter came by with a bottle of champagne that he had ordered for them and a couple of glasses. "So, let's make a toast, shall we?"
"Champagne too? Christ Jesus, Wesley, Giles must have given you a hell of a raise when he sent you out here..." She snarked before taking her glass and raising it. "Yes, yes.. a toast. ...what are we toasting to?"
"I live a frugal life most of the time," he said to her. "I can spare the money to splurge every once in a while." He actually had a pretty decent savings, and a little bit of family money as well. He didn't get along well with his family, but that didn't mean he was above using the family money that he had at times. Hell, it was what he had used to purchase what was in his pocket. As to what they were toasting to, he didn't answer right away, instead reaching into his pocket and silently sliding a small black box across the table to her.
"What's this?" She asked dubiously, obviously not expecting what was actually IN the box. She took it, and with another smirk, started to open it...
The engagement ring inside was a little different than the norm, but so was she, and he thought that she might appreciate it. "I'm sure you can put it together," he teased, grinning.
"...Bloody HELL!" She exclaimed loudly, covering her mouth with one hand. "You... Wesley... are you serious here?"
"No, I'm doing this to mess with you," he said in a deadpan voice before snorting. "Of course I'm serious. I wouldn't have went out and bought a ring if I wasn't serious."
So, it wasn't exactly a traditional proposal. But come ON. This was Narcissa. Like she'd be a traditional bride ANYWAY. "You bet your arse I'll marry you..."
"You better," he said to her. "It's not like either of us can count on another second chance like we've gotten with each other now." Well, he had a point. How often DID this happen?