Blouse/Pessimal out of intense curiosity
“For Offler’s sake, just talk to the man,” hissed Sally, shovingA.E. Pessimal in the shoulder, and the little man set his jaw, pressing hislips together very tightly and looking down into his empty mug. He glanced tothe side, toward the bar.
They were Borogravians, the three gentlemenat the bar, two officers visiting Ankh-Morpork to liaise with some members ofthe Grand Trunk, and the other who workedwith the Grand Trunk, but he was Borogravian too, and they were talking inrapid Borogravian. The two men in uniform were striking: one of them was avampire, A.E. was fairly certain, and the other one—
—swept off his helmet, and A.E. stared atthe cascade of beautiful, golden hair that fell about her shoulders.Immediately, the vampire leaned in, catching her in a kiss, and A.E. swallowed,glancing from the two uniformed officers to the other Borogravian, who seemed…
Awkward.
“Do you think he’s handsome?” A.E. askedanxiously.
“I think he hasn’t got a chin,” said Sally.
“But that’s alright!” Cheri broke inimmediately, giving Sally a stern look that didn’t affect her whatsoever. “Heprobably doesn’t need one,” she said in a tone of assurance.
“He’s nice,” said Angua, although she didn’tsound convinced. “The important thing is that you like the look of him, A.E. Just go talk to him.”
“What if he says no?” A.E. asked. “What ifhe doesn’t like men?”
“Come and sit back down,” Sally saidbluntly. “In the meantime, go up to him, state your intentions clearly and withconfidence, and see what he says.”
“What if he thinks I’m ugly?” A.E. asked.
“He won’t think that,” said Cheri.
“Yes, he will,” Sally said. “But that doesn’tmean he won’t have sex with you.”
“Sally!”Cheri hissed, but A.E. was already on his feet, breathing in as he lookedacross the room at the man at the bar, looking at him as if he were a soldieron the battlefield. He marched acrossthe room, elbows swinging, seemingly incognizant of the way Sally was tryingnot to laugh behind him, right up to the man, who looked down at him owlishlyfrom hazel-brown eyes.
“I want to buy you a drink!” A.E. blurtedout, barking the words without quite meaning to. “Or— Or let you buy me one. Asa precursor to romance, or sex, if you like.” There was a moment’s silence asthe gentleman stared down at A.E., who wondered if he’d rather overshot themark in stating his intentions clearly and with confidence.
The vampire laughed so hard he fell off hisstool, and the other officer grabbed at him to keep him from falling, althoughshe was also holding back laughter. “We’ll see you tomorrow, anyway, Blouse,” saidthe woman officer in Morporkian, dragging her boyfriend with her, and A.E.swallowed.
He had faced armed trolls; he had facedmurderers; he had faced tax-evaders and monsters[1], notwithout fear, but certainly without hesitation, and content to do so. Facing ahandsome(-ish) gentleman in a loose shirt open to his mid-chest, he felt hisknees quivering.
“Hello,” said the gentleman in very easyMorporkian, sounding rather upper class, as he extended his hand. “I’m uh,Blouse, Francis, Francis Blouse, that is.”
“Inspector A.E. Pessimal,” A.E. said, shakinghis hand. “Er— That is, the drink, may I…?”
“Oh, absolutely not,” said Blouse. A.E.felt his face fall. “I’ll buy you adrink, of course,” Blouse said earnestly, a slight flush on his cheeks, andA.E. felt himself exhale in relief. "Er-- Just, just one thing, old chap,er..." Blouse leaned in, lowering his voice, and said, "You're not awoman, are you? In disguise, I mean?"
A.E. Pessimal stared up at him,uncomprehending. "A woman?" he repeated. "No! Why would youthink that?"
"Oh, thank the gods," Blouse saidhurriedly, patting his shoulder and looking immensely relieved. "Noreason, of course, no reason, ah... What can I get you to drink?" Hepatted the stool next to him, and A.E. slowly moved up to sit next to him.
Blouse shivered.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Blouse said hurriedly,drawing a hand through his hair. “Just that, er, well, not that I’m— You know,just a drink, no obligation, but were it to be a precursor, that is, I, that…”He trailed off, apparently uncertain of how to go on. His cheeks were glowing red.“You’ve dreadfully pink lips, that’s all. Like peaches.”
Blouse’s prominent Adam’s apple bounced inhis throat as if it were on a string.
“Oh,” A.E. said. “Thank you.”
“Not at all,” Blouse said.
They drank, once the barman had set theirorder down, in silence. It was a tense silence, fraught with uncertainty, aseach of them wondered what to ask the other man, and kept shooting down variousquestions in his own head, thinking them too personal or too boring or tooaggressive or too whatever.
Finally, A.E. said, with confidence andclarity, “I am going to kiss you now.”
“Oh,” Blouse said breathlessly. “Jollygood.”
And he did.
(And it was good.)
[1] In the eyes of one A.E. Pessimal, these two were one and the same.
