A/N: So, because I don't speak French, and probably some of you don't speak French, when someone is speaking in French it'll have brackets around it [like this].
Alex couldn't believe her eyes when she saw the Paris getup that Tom had put on for her at the Hotel. Well, actually she could, I mean it was Tom they were talking about. But the cherry on top of the cake was definitely Hal, dressed as a stereotypical Frenchman and looking as severally annoyed as she thought a French waiter in Paris would seem. Tom was going to 'woo' her, and Hal would complete the fantasy by speaking French. Which he thrived upon doing. But apparently, Alex wasn't interested in ordering anything at the moment.
"You really do speak French," she mused suddenly, as Hal asked if they'd like something to drink in 'the language of love'.
"Oui, Madam," Hal answered with a slight twitch of his lips. Alex didn't want to admit it, but she felt a little turned on.
"Very good. Could you maybe just, ah," she cleared her throat, "say some more stuff?" With a look to Tom that could only be explained as smug, Hal pulled up a chair next to Alex.
"[I can say anything you like]," he spoke softly.
"Was that dirty?" Oh yeah, Alex was definitely turned on now. She knew the chances of him actually saying something dirty to her in French was slim to none, but it was nice to think, for a moment, that she really was being wooed by a Frenchman in Paris.
"Hey, I'm supposeda be doin' the wooin', not him," Tom complained from the other side of the table. Alex might've answered him if it hadn't be for Hal and his close proximity; the French words were tumbling out of his mouth like whispering sweet nothings into a lover's ear.
"[Would you like me to get rid of this buffoon]?" Hal asked, directing his eyes over to the werewolf.
"I want to say… Oui," Alex said in a small voice, a smile growing on her face.
"[You don't understand what I'm saying, do you]?" Hal asked, but Alex just kept that stupid giddy smile on her face, answering with another, "Oui. Very much Oui."
Hal began saying random words that he thought sounded appealing in French. Then he decided, 'What the Hell?' Alex couldn't understand him, so what stopped him from having a little more fun with this?
"[Oh, the things I'd like to tell you, Alex. Unfortunately, I cannot say them in English, because your ego is big enough. But I can say them in French]." Hal waited a moment. He now had her full and undivided attention. Apparently, just listening to the sound of him speaking in French was mesmerizing enough to keep her from noticing Tom grumbling from across the table.
"[You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met. And I've met many woman in my time. When you walked into the café that day, it was like I was looking at the sun for the very first time. An angel had fallen from Heaven that day, and I was afraid that if I spoke, you would know that I was of Hell and you would leave]." He paused to look directly into Alex's eyes. They were excited and expecting, and if ghosts could breathe he would have said that her breath had quickened slightly. And even though Hal knew she couldn't understand him, he finally decided to give her what she wanted.
"[My God, you are sexy. You don't understand how many times I've thought of the bra you wore for our date; the one you are wearing right now. I wish you could take off your clothes, so I could kiss every inch of your body, so I could run my tongue up your stomach and taste the salty sweat lingering there. So I could scrape my teeth over your breasts and watch your body arch toward my mouth. I'd let my hands roam as they please, let your hands pull at my hair as you moan my name]." He lowered his voice further, deeper, making it sound more seductive than it was when he wasn't trying. "[I would make you scream my name until your voice goes raw. I would ruin you for any other man, and you would ruin me for any other woman]." Hal returned his voice to the normal level, wanting now to sound more romantic than seductive. "[A kiss]." He gestured for her hand. Alex gave it completely willingly, and he kissed the top of it, his eyes never breaking from hers.
"Sorry Alex, I don' think this is it, I don' think you're door's comin'," Tom interrupted. Hal and Alex didn't break their gaze, save for giving ludicrous responses of, "We've only just begun," and, "It'll probably come along after dessert."
They didn't realize how close they were getting until Tom crossed a fork and knife between their face. They both glared at him.
Hal was ready for bed, donned only in pajama pants and without a shirt, when Alex knocked on his open door. He raised his eyebrows at her, waiting for her to speak.
"Thanks, Hal," she finally said. "For the whole 'Wooed in Paris' thing. I know you thought it was stupid, but I'm glad Tom talked you into it."
The corner of Hal's mouth twitched upwards slightly. "[Your welcome], Mademoiselle." He expected she would leave and turned to his bed. He stopped when he heard her voice again.
"Oh, and Hal?"
He turned back around to face her, satisfied with the way her eyes briefly sketched and marveled his bare abdomen.
"Oui, Madam?"
Alex smiled at him. "[I took AP French in school. I was the top of my class]."
Hal's face blanched, aside from his cheeks, which turned red in colour. His eyes were wide, and his jaw clenched as he remembered some of the things he had said to her. Alex's smirk just grew and grew.
"Goodnight, Hal."