balletrat | (no subject)

It does, kinda.

*Someone's trying to sell diamonds. Evidently they're not in high demand.*

Except everyone's breaking the no business rule -

*Onscreen, the waiter assures a table of women that Rick never drinks with customers; and adds that the leading banker in Amsterdam is now the pastry chef in Rick's kitchen.*

- but it's nice and egalitarian.

Oh, oh, here's Rick--

*And here he is indeed, refusing a rather rude German entry into the casino.*

*Meg surveys him critically, throughout the course of the interaction with the rude German - and again, as he converses coldly with a small, nervous-looking man.*

- he's not really all that good-looking, *she says, dubiously.*

No, he's not really, but he kind of makes you not care.

We'll see, *says Meg, and shifts position so she's using Andrew's back as an armrest, still scrutinizing Rick.

She's determined not to be an easy convert.*

*A drunken Yvonne orders yet another drink from a lovesick Sacha.*

*Andrew watches, amused.*

*Re-enter Rick, of course, to spoil the fun, commanding Sacha to hold Yvonne's liquor - obviously a man Immune to the Wiles of Women.*

Yvonne, *Sacha says sadly, as Meg snickers,* I loff you, but he pays me.

*Renault banters with Rick about Yvonne, and then moves on to other topics.*

*I have often speculated on why you don't return to America, Renault says airily. Did you abscond with the church funds? Did you run off with a senator's wife? I like to think you killed a man. It's the romantic in me.*

*Andrew makes a slightly sour face at that.*

It was a combination of all three, *Rick retorts, and deftly avoids answering any further questions with a skill that Meg finds herself rather envious of - before being distracted by Renault casually informing Rick that his cafe will see an arrest tonight.*

*Rick: I came to Casablanca for the waters.*

*Andrew grins, and mouths the next two lines along with the actors.*

*More snickering at that from Meg, which doesn't die down until Renault's halfway through making his bet with Rick about whether or not a man named Victor Laszlo will ever leave Casablanca.

(There's a brief resurgence at Renault's declaration that he is only a poor corrupt official.)*

*The arrest goes down.*

*Twenty thousand francs says Lazlo will make it to America.*

*Andrew gets up to fetch the bowl of popcorn from the desk.*

*Meg takes a moment to make a face at him, as her elbow is rudely displaced, before returning her attention to the screen, where Renault is insisting that Laszlo won't leave Casablanca without his lady companion, and making another face.*

Bet it'd be easier if they did split up.

*Andrew returns, and hands her the popcorn.* Shh, you'll see.

*On the screen, Rick Blaine is asserting that he sticks his neck out for nobody.*

*It's so very Han Solo of him, Andrew's always thought.*

Bar neutrality, *Meg murmurs, and delicately picks up a piece of popcorn to pop into her mouth as Rick settles in for some verbal sparring with the German official.*

Are you one of those people who cannot imagine the Germans in their beloved Paris?

*Meg leans forward, unconsciously; the popcorn bowl teeters dangerously.*

*It's not particularly my beloved Paris, Rick says.*

Andrew looks sideways at Meg.*

*Meg catches his glance a second later; deliberately, she makes herself lean back, with a tiny rueful shrug, as if to say 'what can you do'?*

*He considers giving her hand a comforting squeeze, but ... isn't really sure it'll be all that comforting.*

*On the screen, Victor Laszlo and Ilsa Lundt are making their entrance.*

*The next portion of dialogue gives Meg a chance to relax - it helps that the dialogue is with a member of the Resistance - and by the time Renault comes over to chat up the new arrivals, Meg's almost completely at ease again.

Enough, at least, so that when Renault tells Miss Ilsa Lundt that if he were a woman, and he himself were not around, he would be in love with Rick, Meg can shoot Andrew a quick amused glance.*

Yeah, I always kind of wondered about that, *Andrew says thoughtfully.*

*Serenely:* I think it's sort of sweet.

*The movie plays on.*

*Andrew gets up again to fetch drinks around the time Ilsa's telling Sam that he used to be a much better liar.*

*Leave him alone, Miss Ilsa, Sam says as Andrew sits back down and passes Meg an iced coffee. You're bad luck to him.*

*Meg accepts the ice coffee, glancing at the screen a little ruefully.

As Time Goes By begins to play, a furious Rick storms in, and Rick and Ilsa make eye contact for the first time in the film, before the addition of Renault and Laszlo creates one of the most tense conversations in film history.

Not that Meg knows this. But by this point, she's enthralled, regardless.*

*Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, sulks Rick Blaine drunkenly, she walks into mine.*

Classic line, classic, *mutters Andrew.*