Burlesque: (n.) Involving ludicrous or mocking treatment of a solemn subject.
Annie let out a heavy sigh as she listened to Auggie mockingly paraphrase the movie's dialogue in a high, simpering voice. He'd been doing it off and on for most of the film so far, picking up on the slightest flaws in the voices or delivery of the dialogue and using it for ridicule. He had even made a fair amount of comment on physical things in the movie, joking about the stiff way a character stood or a strange motion that made them seem off, betraying the fact that he'd seen this movie quite a few times before when he could see. It was getting annoying as hell, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't fighting back laughs the entire time.
"You are impossible to watch movies with, you know?" she cut in, interrupting his interpretation of what was supposed to be a dramatic argument scene.
Auggie immediately smirked. "I believe my inability to watch movies is common knowledge by now, my dear," he pointed out.
Annie sighed again and rolled her eyes. "Not what I meant and you know it," she said and his grin widened. "C'mon, it's a classic. Do you really have to ruin it?"
"I'm not ruining it," he defended. "I'm commentating. You know, for our visually impaired viewers."
"Meaning you," she said dryly.
Auggie shrugged and leaned back into the couch. "What can I say? I like to provide fair opportunities to everyone." Annie shook her head but gave him up as a lost cause, making herself comfortable to continue watching the movie. There were only five minutes of silence before a smiling Auggie picked back up on his favourite hobby again, just to hear the annoyed huffs Annie sent his way.
During a bit of a lull in the movie, Auggie turned in her direction and said, "You know, I never would've figured you for a fan of Casablanca. I never would've placed you as a romantic movie kind of girl, especially not after the Hitchcock marathon we had last week."
Annie smiled fondly, remembering listening to Auggie complaining about the fact that Birds hadn't even had an exciting score for him to listen to. "I don't know, I guess I just like the story," she said, and he could hear the way her voice had quieted slightly. She was drawing in on herself. Self-conscious about something. "How they had that whirlwind romance, and then they meet up years later and they're still in love. But Ilsa's sort of moving on, and she's back with her husband and Lazlo's this stable guy she can depend on to take care of her. And then even though all of these old sparks start up again, in the end everyone knows that it's best for her to leave Rick behind and find safety with her husband. It's just – I like it."
Suddenly all of the pieces clicked together in Auggie's mind and left him momentarily stunned. He knew who she was thinking of when she saw Rick Blaine on screen, the man who'd left behind his country and loyalties to handle things his own way: Ben Mercer. Ilsa was Annie, the beautiful woman with her heart torn between two lives and two loves. And he could even see how he fit into the puzzle, as the fiercely loyal man who'd been injured by the foreign enemies but who was all the more determined to fight for freedom and whose main goal in life was to make sure she was safe. It was a bit abstract, but now that it was in his head, he knew he'd never think of the classic film the same way again.
Nodding solemnly, he reached out carefully until he found her arm, and then he squeezed her hand comfortingly. He distantly noted that the bracelet she used to wear had been mysteriously absent for a few weeks but he didn't comment on it. "You're right," he said. "It's a good story."
Annie didn't say anything but he felt her draw closer to him and she leaned against his side, leaning her head into his shoulder as he looped his arm across her shoulders. They sat through the rest of the movie in silence, so quiet that Auggie thought she might have fallen asleep but didn't want to risk waking her just in case. She'd had a long day, he didn't mind letting her sleep if she needed to.
When the end credits began rolling, Annie finally stirred. She sat up and pulled out from beneath his arm, and he could hear the sound of her socked feet padding against the carpet as she crossed the room to the television. "Oh, it's getting kind of late," Annie said and he could hear the surprise in her voice. He hastily checked his watch and grimaced at the hour, not having realised that much time had gone by already. "I'll drive you home."
The drive to his apartment was short and mostly quiet, but it was more like the comfortable quiets they fell into often while they were working on other things and just enjoying being in the other's company. Annie parked the car against the kerb in front of his building, and he could hear her smile as she said, "Your stop, Mr. Anderson."
Auggie smirked but he reached over and found her hand again. "You going to be okay?" he asked gently.
Annie knew instantly what he was talking about, and she squeezed his fingers in response. "Don't worry, I'll be fine," she said and he could tell that she was being honest with him. He nodded and lifted her hand, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles.
He opened the door but before he stepped out, he turned back to face her again. "Oh and Annie," he smiled, tipped an imaginary hat, and winked, "here's looking at you, kid." She laughed, and then surprised him by kissing him right at the corner of his mouth.
"Thanks, Auggie," she said. He nodded, working desperately to maintain some semblance of his normal calm, and climbed out of the car.
"Night, Annie," he said and waited just long enough to hear her respond before closing the door and starting toward his building. And as he stepped into his apartment and gingerly touched the spot she'd kissed, he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something beautiful.
