Chapter Text
“I still can’t even believe it!” Mimzy sobs, “The one man I actually like turns out to be an asshole?!”
“It’s his loss” Alastor murmurs. He pats her awkwardly with the hand she isn’t gripping, attempting to shift away a little in the process. She clings harder.
His jacket is damp from her weeping into it for the last hour or so. Alastor considers slipping it off but isn’t sure how to go about it, given the clinging. Also, he isn’t sure Mimzy has quite finished her theatrics. It’s been quite a show. Coming from most other people, he’d find it entertaining.
Mimzy sniffs, then presses her face into his shoulder again. Muffled, she adds, “I mean, I date all these perfectly nice men and it’s just a good time, no strings, and I don’t care when it’s over, and this one time I care it has to be over when he says so?!”
Alastor tries to recall a single one of Mimzy’s previous lovers who could be described as perfectly nice. He comes up blank.
Into his shoulder, Mimzy goes on, “What if he was the one, Al? What if that’s it, my only chance of real happiness just gone?”
“Now, dear, don’t fret. As the saying goes, there’s plenty more fish in the sea.”
“Not anymore” says Mimzy darkly. She twists to press her mascara smeared cheek against him. “Remember the Great War did for plenty of them fish. There’s a lot of competition for any decent man and I ain't the type of gal men like to bring home to meet their mothers.”
“That’s not true at all, sweetheart!” Alastor is aware that own mother was a little less than fond of Mimzy, but he considers that a rare failure of judgment on her part. “You’d be an asset to any family.”
Mimzy finally peels herself away from him to give him a sour look. Her fingers stay entwined in his. She says, “Name one thing I’m good for that ain't dancing or finding trouble.”
“You always know how to make me smile.”
“Making you smile ain't difficult, doll face.” But Mimzy seems calmer at last. She releases his hand and sits back, wiping her eyes and staring bleakly around his apartment. Suppressing a sigh of relief, Alastor slips his tear-streaked jacket off.
Usually, Mimzy takes break ups in her stride. He wonders what was so different about Edgar, but doesn’t ask: He has learnt that any passing curiosity about Mimzy’s love life on his part is always out-matched by her willingness to tell him every shockingly intimate detail if asked. Not to mention that he is covering the early broadcast first thing tomorrow and it’s already rather late.
Mimzy watches him fold the jacket and lay it over a nearby armchair. Then she studies his exposed shirt and waistcoat. For a bewildering moment, Alastor wishes he’d kept the jacket on. Mimzy sniffs again and adds, “I really thought Edgar was the one.”
Ah, thinks Alastor, there’s that mystical The One again. It’s not only Mimzy destined for some as yet unmet someone. Everyone, from vague acquaintances to friends to the ladies at the radio station always insist he’ll meet The One eventually. Even mama thought so. Perhaps another rare chink in her wisdom because, as the years pass, Alastor is less and less sure this One is really out there.
Actually, the thought that she isn’t is more reassuring than otherwise.
“Alastor, do ya think I’m unlovable?”
“What a preposterous question, dear.”
“Well am I? The married bastards pick their wives every single time and the single fellas never treat me right either!”
“And you conclude that the problem is you?”
“Well maybe it is! No decent guy’s gonna look twice at me! He’s gonna want a gal who knows how to cook and clean and keep her mouth shut.”
“Then he isn’t decent.”
“But Ed was! Sure he said he was looking for someone more traditional but he didn’t even give me a chance to change!”
“Why would you want to change?” Alastor asks. Really, she is being ridiculous! Change? For a man? The idea of Mimzy as a meek wife keeping house is laughable. Actually, the idea of anyone changing themselves to fit around someone else is laughable. Or would be, if the thought of it didn’t actually make him a little uneasy.
Perhaps it is simply self respect that keeps him from making a match.
But none of which would be very helpful to say to Mimzy just now, so Alastor simply pats her shoulder and asks, “What’s brought this on, dear, hm? I thought you didn’t want to be tied down by romance.”
“Sure, but then I met Edgar!”
If only she hadn’t, they could be out having fun right now.
Mimzy continues, “And not wanting romance don’t mean I don’t want ta be doted on!”
What a suffocating notion. Alastor pats her again.
Mimzy snaps, “And all the other gals get treated right by their fellas! Ain’t I as good as them? What if I never find a decent man?”
“I’m sure you will.” A standard response that Alastor has learnt over the years is the correct one. Presenting to female friends – even those lucky enough to have an independent income – that they might be better off alone has not been well received in the past, for it is what he wants to say.
Mimzy still looks stricken. “But will I? I’m pushing twenty six, Al, just between us, and who ever heard of a doll getting married past twenty six? I’m on the shelf.”
“Then so am I.”
“Nah, you’re a fella. You still got a few good dating years left in ya.”
Alastor sighs. “What a cheering thought.”
“Anyway, it’s easy for you men. You get paid enough to actually live on.”
“Mimzy, if there’s one thing I have faith in, it’s your ability to take care of yourself. You don’t need a man for that.”
“But what if I want one?” Mimzy blinks morosely at him, sending a few unshed tears cascading down her face. “Not just for the money I mean. I mean just ta feel special. You know, to have that someone who just thinks you’re the bee’s knees. What if I want one and I can’t find him and I die alone?”
“Really, dear! Pessimism doesn’t suit you. Besides, you’ll always have me.”
Mimzy sniffs again, shuffling closer. “Yeah” she says.
Then she plants her hands either side of his face and kisses him passionately on the lips. Alastor squirms. “Mimzy!”
Mimzy breaks away from him and looks at him almost accusingly. “What?”
“You – I – Mimzy what on earth is this?”
“Sweetie, relax! Just go with it!” Mimzy leans in again. Alastor leans back. Mimzy pauses, then sighs. She sits back and turns away from him. Alastor stares at her.
A few moments of stifling silence crawl past.
Mimzy mutters, “Fuck”, then reaches around for her handbag and extracts her cigarettes. Without quite looking at him, she passes him one and lights her own. After a few puffs she glances his way and tells him sourly, “You don’t have ta look at me like I’m a gator!”
Alastor blinks. “I’m not.”
“You look like a deer about to dragged into a swamp, sweetie.”
Alastor straightens, shifting away from her in the process. He makes an effort to look calm, plastering on a smile he doesn’t feel. Lights the cigarette for the sake of something to do with his hands.
This again. Again. Another female acquaintance confusing simple companionship for some sort of sordid tryst. Why does this keep happening to him? And Mimzy of all people! He had thought she understood he is simply isn’t interested in romance of any kind. That he is married to his job. Jobs. “Mimzy, I…”
“Am I ugly? Is that it?”
“What? No!”
“Too pushy then? Is it because I tell fellas what to do too often? I know men don’t like that but…”
“Mimzy! Have I ever given you any reason to think I’m the sort of cad who’d oppose a woman speaking her mind?”
“Why don’t you want me then?”
Alastor flounders for a moment, unsure how to turn his discomfort into something as tame as a sentence. He comes up with, “Aside from my wishes, it’s against the law for us to marry. Or even live together without the ring.” This is entirely true, and entirely not the reason for his discomfort. But Mimzy need not know that. He adds, “So you see, we’d have no future.”
Mimzy blinks at him. “Who said anything about a future? I just want reminding I ain’t ugly and unlovable!”
It is Alastor’s turn to look blank. Mimzy pauses, sees his confusion and adds, “That only takes one night, Alastor!”
Alastor feels heat rush to his cheeks. “Oh!”
“Exactly. So we could have us a fun time and the bigots don’t need ta know.” Mimzy smiles hopefully for a moment before taking in his expression. Actually, Alastor isn’t sure what expression he’s wearing. Only that it must not be encouraging because she sighs and says, “But you don’t want to, do ya?”
“You know that I’m very fond of you” Alastor replies, “But not in that way.”
“So it’s a no?”
“It’s a no.”
Mimzy huffs a little and shifts imperceptibly away from him.
Alastor can’t help but feel a little alarmed. Of all the friends who have attempted to woo him, Mimzy is by far the closest. He would genuinely miss her if this were to cause them to quarrel permanently. She understands him better than anybody.
She is the only person in the world who knows about his clandestine activities. What does that mean, if they fall out over this? Will he have to silence her? He’s not sure he could.
No. Unlikely she’d go to the police, even to spite him. Most of what she could say hardly casts herself in a positive light. Besides, blackmail is more Mimzy’s style. He’ll just pay.
Mimzy stabs the butt of her cigarette into his ashtray, grinding it with unnecessary aggression. Alastor tries, “I am sorry, sweetheart.”
Mimzy waves this away. “Don’t be. If ya don’t feel it, ya don’t feel it. Ya can’t control who brings it out of ya. Fuck knows I can tell ya that much.”
“If I could make myself feel it for anyone…”
“Yeah, yeah. That don’t really help, Alastor.” Mimzy’s glum expression deepens and she adds, “Ya know, I forgot about those dumb laws.”
Alastor’s expression tightens. How nice it must be to be able to forget.
Mimzy continues, “What if the man I’d be happiest with is a black fella?”
He is, thinks Alastor, who has seen her every bit as happy in his company as with any of her lovers. But Mimzy, for some reason, insists on seeking out a kind of intimacy he simply cannot offer.
Mimzy brightens. “Say...Was that your first kiss?”
“On the mouth?”
“Obviously!”
“Then yes.”
Mimzy grins. “Well then at least ya got something outta tonight! How’d you like it?”
“It was very...wet.”
Mimzy pokes him in the ribs, inexplicably. Then she sits back and closes her eyes. “Fuck” she says again, with less heat this time.
Alastor smooths his waistcoat down. Perhaps taking off his jacket was where he went wrong? Possibly it sent some sort of signal he is unaware of. He tries, “You’re not the first friend to make such a request, dear.”
Mimzy opens her eyes, then rolls them. “Really? I’m happy for ya.” Then, her tone shifting to curious, “Who?”
“Beatrice, most recently.”
Mimzy sits up straight, grasping his hand. “I knew it! I knew that gal carrying a torch for ya! Didn’t I tell ya?”
“Yes.” Alastor carefully doesn’t move his hand. “You did.”
“Who else?”
“Maria, from the station. Oh, and Jeanne.”
Mimzy gasps. “No! And her only married last year!”
“Yes. You’d think her being married would put an end to such matters but it seems even that isn’t a guarantee that simply passing the time of day with a person remains simple.”
“Aw, sweetie. It’s because you’re such a beau. You should be flattered.”
“Well, I’m not.” Alastor feels himself scowl and corrects his features to something more neutral. “Most of them didn’t take my rejection particularly well.”
“Well, being rejected ain’t fun.” Mimzy shrugs. “Not that you’d know, I guess.”
“They all seem to think I led them on in some way! It was entirely unintentional, but…” But he’s lost several friends, he doesn’t say.
Mimzy sighs and pats his hand. “You didn’t lead anyone on, kitten. I’m just feeling lonesome is all.”
Alastor puts his hand over hers. “Then I hope our friendship can continue as before?”
“Well what did ya think would happen tomorrow morning if you’d kissed me back?” Apparently realising that he has no idea, Mimzy explains, “We’d have gone right back to friends after we’d had our fun if you’d been up for it so I don’t see why we can’t now. Friendship was always the final chapter here, doll face.”
Alastor feels himself relax. “Good.” And what a relief that they can skip the kissing and jump straight to simply enjoying each other’s company.
Mimzy tells him, “Sorry if I made things awkward between us.”
“Think nothing of it!”
“But I will! You were just being kind and here’s me putting pressure on ya when I know you’re the only fella in the world who ain’t about ta take advantage of a gal with a bad case of heartache! I’m sorry, kitten.”
Alastor chuckles. “Sweetheart, when you sleep off my good whiskey and wake up in the morning, all of this will seem like less terrible.”
Mimzy considers this, nodding pensively. “I might do that. Call me a cab?”
“You can sleep here.”
Usually, Mimzy would make a show of needing to be talked into this. But tonight, drunk and with her mascara running, she just nods. “Alright.”
Alastor rises to fetch the bedding. Behind him, Mimzy says, “Hey, Al? Thanks.”
“Not at all. Though I will be up early tomorrow, so you’ll have to see yourself out if you plan on sleeping in.”
“Not for the bed ya dweeb! For being a pal.”