Title: Even Tempered
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None
Author's Notes: Thank you, requester, for the fun prompt to work with, and to M for your suggestions.
Summary: A chase, a bed, a bad temper and an unlikely friendship, not necessarily in that order.
"I should at the very least have had to commit murder to get sent here."
From directly behind him, Ginny looked into the anger management classroom, which was decorated with brightly colored "motivational" posters, cheerful slogans, and pictures of fluffy kittens. "You could kill me now. That way neither of us has to suffer through this."
"Sorry, Weasley, I don't like you that much." He turned his head and she realized why the man's voice had sounded so familiar - it was Draco Malfoy, all grown up.
"What did you do to get sentenced to purgatory?" she asked. "I would've thought you'd be too icy for the sort of thing that gets you stuck here."
Snorting, he said, "Yes, well, not all of us have to commit arson and make the front page in order to be punished for our sins."
Sulkily, she said, "I didn't actually set the fire. It just sort of happened after the explosion."
"I gather you think that's an improvement?"
They were interrupted by a sprightly man with long hair and a wispy beard clapping his hands together. "Everybody, gather round, please, it's time for our greeting circle!"
"I'm in hell."
With a sigh, Ginny nodded and said, "Right there with you, Malfoy."
The bearded man led the group over to some chairs set up, aptly enough, in a circle. “Everyone, take a seat, and we’ll introduce ourselves!”
Ginny gave a soft groan and slunk down into a chair with the air of one going to the gallows, Draco followed her, although his movements were more refined. As he settled into the seat next to her, she said, "If they make us hug, I'm leaving. Azkaban would be preferable."
"I agree," he said. "Although I packed a Puking Pastille as an emergency hug repellent, since Azkaban's not the greatest Plan B."
"I got searched on the way here," she said. "The Ministry's got nothing on my mum for enforcement. If you've got any extras, though..."
She'd thought she'd been joking, but as the evening dragged on, Ginny was starting to wish for anything to allow an escape. Who knew that court-ordered therapy could be so earnest? At one point, she was eyeing the door and wondering if she could make it out before anyone caught her, only to have Malfoy lean over and whisper, "They add two sessions to your sentence for every one that you skip. I checked."
Wincing, Ginny said, "I've already got to endure five of these."
"That's the same as I have left," Malfoy said. "We'll be bosom companions by the end."
Ginny cut her eyes to the side to look at him. "Are you serious?"
"No, but just wait - I'd bet on our fearless leader saying so at least twice before we're allowed to leave today. He couldn't seem to resist the phrase during the orientation they made me go through, since I'm a big bad Malfoy and all." Looking her over, he said, "Upon due consideration, I have to admit that I'd probably enjoy developing a close, personal friendship with your bosom."
"You're a pig," Ginny said, keeping a straight face by dint of considerable effort.
Nodding, he said, "And you didn't slap me. Maybe the anger management classes are working for you."
She laughed at that, drawing the attention of the others. Malfoy had the nerve to look completely innocent, even mildly concerned for her welfare. He was disturbingly good at it, but she'd grown up with Fred and George. Sooner or later, she'd get her own back.
They'd progressed to a first name basis sometime in the second session of whispering in the back, making fun of the others in the group and most especially of the super-perky group leader, but she still hadn't managed to make him lose his composure by the time their last session rolled around and he said, "Well, I suppose this is goodbye."
"I suppose it is," she said, her stomach knotting up as she realized he was right. Their paths hadn't crossed since school, and even then it had only been under extraordinary circumstances; the likelihood of ever ending up interacting again seemed vanishingly unlikely. "Thanks for helping me manage my anger."
Snorting, he said, "Or, at least, how to suppress it for just long enough."
"Same thing," she said, holding out her hand. "It's been..." She trailed off, not really sure how to describe the relationship they'd developed during their sessions.
"Your eloquence, as always, amazes and overwhelms me." He shook her hand, smirking. "Send me an owl if words ever stop failing you."
He'd walked off shortly after, called over to sign some papers attesting to his attendance and cooperation, and she'd been left feeling oddly deflated. The feeling didn't go away; over the next few days, she kept thinking of things to tell him at the next meeting only to remember there wasn't going to be one. By the time the actual day rolled around, she was seriously considering a blind date or an ice cream binge just to distract herself.
Instead she got an owl. Do you suppose there are people at the Leaky Cauldron that require discreet mockery?
Probably. Are you proposing to explore strange new pubs, going where no Malfoy has gone before? She'd scribbled her answer and sent it off before even putting her ice cream back in the freezer, and she wondered if he'd make something of her unseemly haste.
Then again, his answer came back so fast that he had no call to tease her for standing by the owl perch. You think you're funny, but someday you'll see the wonders of Muggle television.
I already like television, she wrote back. It's the fact that a Malfoy likes a cheesy spaceship adventure show from when our parents were children that I find amusing.
New rule. Any disparagement of Star Trek means you buy a round of drinks.
After grabbing her purse, Ginny wrote back, We'll discuss it at the pub. I might consider it if you buy all the rest of the rounds, Mr. Moneybags.
"So, wait, I'm either too drunk to understand you or not drunk enough for you to make sense."
Pouring her another drink, Draco said, "What's so hard to understand? I need a bodyguard."
"Right, I heard you the first time. What I didn't hear was an explanation of why you want me to accompany you to some godforsaken place--"
"The south of France," he murmured.
"And protect you from, what, having your cheeks pinched?"
Shaking his head, he said, "I think things got a bit muddled. The problem is not the cheek pinching, which I hope they've grown out of. The problem is that the frightful French aunts want to tie the families more closely together through matchmaking."
"And just saying, 'No, thank you, inbreeding is on my list of things to avoid' isn't an option?"
"You don't understand," he said. "The number of males from good family that possess chins at all is minuscule. An aristocrat with actual aristocratic features? It's like... It's like finding a gold coin in your junk drawer. Except rarer."
Frowning, she said, "Was that a slur on my family?"
"Excuse me, who was doing a happy dance all over her flat last week, singing a triumphal song on the theme of 'I can buy booze' after finding a hidden cache of sickles in said junk drawer?"
"Oh. Yeah. You were there for that." With a small cough, she said, "Well, I'd bought groceries and paid bills. And payday was still four days away."
With a snort, he said, "And it would've been unnecessary if you'd just given in earlier."
"Never," she said. "Picard is an infinitely superior captain."
"A Frenchman that talks like that? Please. And Kirk would've had the redhead's lab coat off in three episodes, max."
Haughtily, Ginny said, "Dr. Crusher has much better taste than to go for someone as shallow as Kirk. She'd have held out for someone refined and sophisticated, not randy and inclined to charging in."
"So, does that mean you'll do it, then? Because otherwise this next round's yours to buy."
She thought about it for a moment and sighed. "Fine. But I'm owed big for this. I'll figure out how you'll repay me later."
"Excellent," he said. "You really are the greatest girl I've ever known."
"I'm probably the only girl you've ever known," she said. "Given your aversion to spending more than one night with any woman you've ever dated."
Defensively, he said, "There's Pansy, and Millie. I know them."
Nodding sagely, Ginny said, "You do. Except for little things, like not noticing that Pansy's been dating my brother for six months, and that Millie's pregnant."
"What? Seriously?" Draco sputtered as he put down his glass. "You're joking."
"Millie stopped drinking when she's been out, and that skinny guy's been around more than usual," Ginny said. "And, seriously, Pansy hasn't even been making more than a token effort to be discreet. Pretty much the instant they met at my birthday party, she was hooked."
"Wow. I never would've thought that Weasley would ever look at a girl other than Granger." Draco shook his head and picked up his glass again.
Ginny waited until he'd taken a drink before she said, "Not Ron - Percy."
The whisky shot out of his nostrils, making Ginny giggle. "You're evil. And that's got to be-- I have to talk to Pansy."
"Just don't tell her I told you," Ginny said. "And don't be too hard on her. I envy her a little."
Sighing, she said, "She's happy. I think even the sneaking around and pretending no one notices gives her a sense of contentment, and I wish I could feel that. I always think too much, I can never just enjoy the moment."
"You always seem pretty happy to me," he said quietly.
"I fake it well." Looking into her glass, she added, "And it's different with you. You don't really care, so I don't have to act like anything in particular around you."
He just looked at her for a long moment, his expression shuttered and distant, until he finally shook his head and stood. "Come on. If you're this maudlin, it's time to take you home."
"It's just the truth," she said, standing up but stumbling against him. "You're the only one who doesn't require a front, just because you don't care if I'm cheerful or not."
"You're not a cheerful person," he said, holding her steady. "But you're bright and funny, which is better."
"I like you." She held on to his waist as he apparated them to her flat. Depositing her on the sofa, he fetched her a glass of water and a headache potion to take against the threat of a hangover. "Did you hear me? I like you. I think you're sweet."
His lips pressed together and he shook his head. "Am not. We'll talk about this sometime when you're sober."
"Okay," she said, settling back on the cushions. "But it's true."
Shaking his head, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning."
Barely holding it together until the door had closed behind them, Ginny burst out with, "Are you kidding me? Your aunts seriously just said they put us in the same room because they know we're sleeping together!"
Shrugging, Draco dropped their bags on the bed and said, "They're French. And old. It's really not that big a deal."
"There's one bed," she spat, gesturing to it.
"And we're wizards," he said patiently. "We can just transfigure it into two."
Despite feeling a bit foolish, she rallied with, "How are your skills? Because I haven't really done any transfiguration since school."
"I always got top marks," he said. "It can't be that hard."
An hour later, they finally managed to get the bed back to its original state, and she put her hand on his arm. "Leave it alone. You can sleep in the bathtub."
"Bugger that," he said. "I'm sleeping in this bed. Where you sleep is up to you."
"You know, this is a big house," she said. "I could find another room."
Shaking his head, he said, "I don't trust the locks, or the girls my aunts have here. Last time, I didn't get more than five minutes of sleep at a time."
"But they know you're with me," Ginny said. "And there aren't that many - even if all of them took a turn, you could get through all of them in an hour in five minute increments."
"They'd know that you're not in here," he said. "And none of the beautiful naked girls that crawled in bed with me left within five minutes."
It took a moment for her to process what he meant, but then she wrinkled her nose. "You're a pig."
"So you've said. The point is, you need to be here, since I'm male and have no defense against naked breasts."
Pinching at the bridge of her nose, Ginny said, "How do I get myself into these situations?"
"I've wondered that, from time to time, but since it works in my favor this time, I'm disinclined to complain." Opening his suitcase, he said, "Come on, help me unpack. I don't want you to get angry over my doing as bad a job taking clothes out of the case as I did putting them in."
With a sigh, Ginny said, "You just wanted me to pack for you. You knew it, I knew it, and yet I still did it."
Handing her a shirt, he said, "Come on, buck up. If we get through this trip, I'll buy you something expensive."
"You will," she said, automatically starting to put things away in drawers. "I still don't know what I want from you, though."
"I'm waiting for you to figure it out," he said softly.
Ginny was in the middle of a blissful massage when there was a commotion outside. Cracking an eye open, she said, "Did someone just shout 'tallyho?' In a French accent?"
"It is always most amusing when Monsieur Malfoy visits." Her masseuse's large hands worked at a knot on her shoulders as he continued, "I was asked to keep you occupied - three extra tips, most profitable, yes?"
Sighing, Ginny contemplated just staying where she was, but duty compelled her to sit up. "I should go help him."
"If you wish," he said with a shrug. "But, remember to tell him I helped you help him - Mr. Malfoy will be most generous."
"You're an opportunist, Jean-Paul." Pulling on her clothes, she said, "I'll tell him, but you should look up the term money-grubbing sometime."
"I have an expensive boyfriend," he said with another casual shrug, and waved as Ginny opened the door and stepped out.
She should have looked first, since she almost got flattened by a girl running past and shouting, "He's going into the maze!"
With timing and reflexes honed by years of the cutthroat Weasley version of tag, Ginny reached out to grab the girl by the back of her shirt, only to blink in surprise when it came apart and she was left holding a short length of black silk. The resulting shriek apparently owed nothing to modesty, as the girl whirled on Ginny. "Idiot! Do you know how long it took my seamstress to make sure that could tear so easily but not fall apart before it was time?"
"Uh. No?" Ginny held out the silk, only to have it snatched from her hand.
"A girl like you doesn't deserve him, even if you could keep him." With that, and still naked from the waist up, the girl took off at a run again, heading into the hedge maze next to the parterre section of the garden.
Shaking her head, Ginny muttered, "He owes me so very, very much for this."
Several other girls had appeared and were running into the maze, calling out in both English and French for Draco to come and do things that Ginny wasn't sure were anatomically possible. She was still working on a plan for how to get him out when a section of the hedge flattened and Draco leapt out over it, the towel that was his only covering flapping in the breeze.
"Oh my." Yet another reason for the pursuit was on display, but then he turned on his heel and took off at a dead run in the direction of the boathouse. He wouldn't make it, but she was reluctantly impressed by his lithe athleticism as he dodged obstacles ranging from decorative urns to oncoming amorous women in all manners of undress.
Casually, Ginny strolled over to the broomshed, rummaging through until she found the broom she'd used for a game of quidditch earlier. She looked up briefly at a shout behind her, but it turned out to be that one of the girls had twisted her ankle and almost gotten a hold of Draco when he paused to see if she was all right. Another girl trying to tackle him had brought him back to himself and he was on the run again, the towel now in his hand as his arms and legs pumped furiously in the attempt to put some distance between him and his closest pursuers.
Hopping on the broom, Ginny flew to catch up to him. "Hi."
"God rot you, couldn't you have come to the rescue sooner?" He looked behind him and ran harder, trying to put the towel back on at the same time.
"I could go," she said, pulling slightly further in front of him on the broom. "Of course, they could figure out the lock I put on the broomshed any minute now."
Grabbing at her ankle, he said, "Leave me and I tell the world who really leaked those pictures of Potter."
"You wouldn't!" She gasped and stopped in mid-air, making him stumble at the sudden change of pace. "My family would disown me!"
Draco just snorted and got on the broom behind her, wrapping his arms around her to grab the handle and get them moving again. "You should've thought of that earlier, like before you did it."
"I was angry," she said. "And, besides, it's his fault for getting drunk and passing out in public. I didn't put that policeman's helmet on him."
"Anger management was wasted on you." Their position meant his lips were practically brushing her ear, and she was suddenly, completely aware of just how naked he was. "At least you've gotten sneakier about it."
Spotting a shadow moving behind them, Ginny shouted, "Look out!"
Easily moving through a barrel roll, Draco changed their direction and headed back to the chateau. "While I appreciate the warning, I wasn't actually feeling threatened by that duck."
"Hey, waterfowl can be nasty," she said. "I know geese can break a man's arm."
"Your concern for my safety is noted." Flying directly to their bedroom window, Draco hovered close and said, "Can you get us in?"
It was child's play to open the lock and soon they were standing in their room, Ginny clutching the broomstick and Draco clutching his towel. "So. I can see why you wanted a bodyguard."
"Exactly. Although usually I'm not naked," he said. "I got lulled into a false sense of security."
Turning away from him, Ginny cleared her throat and said, "Well. You can get dressed now."
"I suppose we may as well dress for dinner," he said. "It's almost time, and Merlin knows I worked up an appetite."
Ginny shooed him towards the bathroom and said, "Go ahead. You can take the first shower, since you spend more time primping than I do."
"Good grooming is not the same thing as primping," he said. "And I know for a fact that there are ex-convicts who spend more time making themselves presentable than you do."
"Exhibit A being you," she pointed out.
"And, strangely, my point is made," he said with a grin. "See you in a bit."
She wasn't sure what made her do it. The girl with the tearaway clothes was hanging all over Draco during the cocktail hour, and Ginny's patience was gone well before the first course was served. Ginny had leaned closer to Draco, put her hand on his arm, and otherwise given subtle signals of ownership, but she was completely ignored in favor of flashing smiles and bosoms at Draco.
The cheese course came out, the slutty girl shot Ginny a smug look, and that was it. Ginny tapped Draco's shoulder, waited until he turned to face her, then sank her fingers into his hair and kissed him passionately. The noise at the table died but Ginny kept going, making up for Draco's lack of reaction by the sheer intensity with which she kissed him.
Finally, she pulled away and looked around, and said firmly, "Il est à moi!"
"Mieux vaut faire que dire," Draco murmured as the rest of the table started talking again.
"As that's not something I've ever heard my sister-in-law shouting, I have no idea what you just said. But, if it was a complaint, you can shut it."
Shaking his head, he said, "My only complaint would be that there's still dessert to endure."
Ginny looked around and decided she'd really had enough of the lot of them. Knowing every ear would be straining to hear what they said to each other, she pitched her voice seductively low. "Let's have our dessert in bed."
"Excuse us." Ginny thought he overplayed the rush to leave the table, but since he knew this group better than she did, maybe it was called for. She didn't protest covering the distance to their room at something approaching a run, but as soon as the door closed behind them, she opened her mouth to tell him he really needed to think about playing his role appropriately, and not breaking character as Draco Malfoy, super-cool suave guy.
Except she couldn't say any of it, because he'd backed her against the door and he was kissing her as if he fully intended to devour her whole. She gasped and clutched feebly at his shoulders, feeling dizzy with the speed of it, the heat and pleasure of his hands and lips and tongue and the way he made her feel.
He started pulling her shirt off and she put her hands on his wrists, breathing heavily as she tried to think. "Wait. What brought that on?"
"You..." Pushing his hair back from his face, he said, "Never mind. My apologies."
"Draco, you can't just--"
Holding up a hand, he said, "It was a mistake, all right? Let's not talk about this right now."
She shook her head and stood her ground. “If not now, when? And why was it a mistake?”
"Later," he said, stepping back from her. "I'll come back, I promise, but right now I can't do this."
“You’d rather take your chances out there?” she asked, her eyebrows rising.
With a small, bitter laugh, he said, "They're less dangerous. I know what to expect from them."
Watching him back away from her was difficult. Letting him walk out the door was even harder, but Ginny had learned one thing in anger management, other than how to avoid a hug, and that was when someone needed space, you gave them space. “I’m going to bed soon,” she said. “I’ll leave a light on for you,” was the best she could offer him, her voice having faded someone in volume due to her uncertainty of the situation.
He left, and she dressed for bed, trying to figure out where things had gone wrong. She'd been sick of all the girls fawning all over Draco, but hadn’t wanted to think of the ramifications of what it meant, not wanting to risk the possibility of ruining their friendship. Unfortunately, it looked like that ship had sailed and would be due into harbor soon.
Climbing into her side of the bed, Ginny figured the best she could hope for was that he would return and they could carry on like they had been, like friends, and they could write the whole awkward evening off as something in the wine at dinner and the ever-odd French company they’d been forced to visit with. She'd forget about being jealous - because that's what it was, if she was going to face up to it. If he meant the world to her, if she wanted more now that she'd been forced to acknowledge the possibility of it, well, she could deal with it. And so could he, because what they had was too important to just forget about because of a kiss.
Even if it had been a hell of a kiss. She fell asleep dreaming about it, and wishing it would happen again.
She woke up shivering, groping for the blankets only to find she was unaccountably sharing the bed with something clammy and cold. Shoving at it made it groan and resolve itself into Draco. "What the hell?"
"I need to sleep." He pulled at the covers and turned his back, snuggling determinedly into the pillows. "The bathtub really wasn't a good option."
"You're cold," she said, tugging at the cocoon he'd built around himself to try to get some of the covers back. "And now I'm cold."
Grumbling, he let her crawl under the covers, although he kept his back to her. "You're a bloody icicle."
"Whose fault is that?" He didn't answer, and she gingerly curled around his back, ready to pull away if he had any objections. If he did, he didn't say them, and she gradually relaxed and fell back to sleep, taking comfort in the solid feel of him in her arms.
By the time she woke up again, this time to the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains, they had turned around and Draco was wrapped around her, warm and strong. She stretched a bit and found her backside was pressing firmly against him. She might've chalked it up to a physiological thing, except that he groaned and his hand came up to flatten over her stomach and hold her where she was.
"Going to run away?" she asked, her voice soft as she put her hand over his.
His voice was unsteady as he said, "Maybe. It depends."
Staring at the opposite wall without actually seeing it, Ginny whispered, "I need you. You've become... I can't even describe it."
"You're my best friend," he said softly, his lips brushing her ear. "I can't imagine not hearing your bitchy comments about whatever stupid or irritating thing you've encountered, or not making you threaten me with death if I make you wet your pants laughing."
"That's a start," she said, her stomach tied in knots. Absently stroking his fingers, she said, "Something else has come up, though."
Drily, he said, "I'm glad you noticed."
"Not that!" She jabbed her elbow back, taking satisfaction in his grunt. "Although, actually, partly that. I mean, you know, the whole... It's not just because it's morning, or because I happen to be something like the right shape and all cats are grey in the dark, right?"
"I'd know who you are even in pitch blackness," he said. "And all the girlfriends I've had have been tall and slim."
Disgruntled, she tried to break away, but was held in place by his strong arms around her. "Let go!"
He held her even tighter. "My point was, I'm not attracted to you because you're my usual type, or because of circumstances, or from a purely physical thing. I want you because you're Ginny Weasley, short and redheaded and not even close to being in control of your temper. Funny and sexy and cute, and possessive as hell."
"You... Ditto. Sort of. You know, the parts that apply." Someone had taken her brain away and replaced it with mush. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to speak calmly. "I could fall in love with you so easily, Draco, and it scares me, but I want it. I want you."
"Ginny--" He broke off with a mild oath, and after a short flurry of blankets, she was on her back and looking up at him as he leaned over her. The sunlight behind him seemed to make him glow, and his touch was gentle as he stroked her hair back from her face. "I'm in love with you. Catch up, please? Because I want to get on with finding out how it's going to be with us together."
Her eyes widened in surprise and she bit her lip, but it felt like something was clicking perfectly into place. Still at a loss for words, she smiled up at him lovingly, and decided that she had stronger priorities than working out what to say. Accordingly, she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and bit his lip, a sharp nip followed by a soft stroke with her tongue, and then they were kissing again, and this time it was perfect, because both of them knew what they wanted - each other.
Ginny stood on a balcony, turning her face up to the rising sun and breathing deeply. The morning air was full of the fragrance of roses in bloom, and a sense of peace and stillness pervaded the scene.
Or, it did, until there was a shout and suddenly a figure with pale skin and blond hair was crossing the grounds at a dead run, several other figures in hot pursuit.
Calmly sipping from her mug of tea, Ginny watched as several girls broke off from the group to flank their prey, who doubled back and jumped through a gorse bush to get away. Wincing in sympathy for the scratches he was sure to have acquired, Ginny craned her neck to see whether he had a clear path to the boathouse. It looked like there might be someone lying in wait there, and she leaned forward, shading her eyes and squinting to try to get a clearer view.
"Shouldn't you be planning the rescue of your darling baby boy?"
Ginny turned her head briefly to accept Draco's kiss, but then turned back to watching the chase. "I think it's about time he found someone else for that. And, besides, it'll do him good to get some exercise. He doesn't get out in the fresh air enough."
"He's spending too much time in the basement working on that computer of his," Draco said. "Oh, good show. I thought for sure that he'd missed spotting that trap."
Leaning her head against his shoulder, Ginny said, "He is, isn't he? Just him and his best mate, Clara."
Draco started to say something, but paused to think and then looked at his wife admiringly. "You had an evil plan, didn't you? I love it when you have those."
"What can I say? They didn't seem to have a clue how perfect they are together, and it worked for us."
"It did indeed." Pulling her away from the balcony and back into their bedroom, he said, "Let's leave them to their games so we can remind each other just how well we did out of being sentenced to endure anger management classes."
Allowing him to slide off her robe, she murmured, "Someday, you're going to tell me what you did to end up there."
"Maybe." He lifted her hair and kissed the side of her neck, smiling. "Why not try to convince me?"
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic: A fic in which Draco and Ginny form an unlikely friendship before getting involved romantically.
The tone/mood of the fic: Funny, light, romantic (a pinch of angst is okay, too).
An element/line of dialogue/object you would specifically like in your fic: A cliche I love in fics where the couple starts as friends is that they are forced to share a bed for whatever reason. I'd also like a drunken confession, a shared secret and a chase scene!
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: Any, but the higher the better.
Canon or AU? Whatever works for the author is fine, but my preference is EWE.
Deal Breakers (anything you don't want?): Nothing too dark (noncon etc), no Trio bashing. I don't want a tall, slim Ginny or an overly muscular Draco. I don't want abusive!Lucius. To go alongside the theme of them having an unlikely friendship, please no established friendships/relationships between their friends (so no Luna/Blaise or Harry/Pansy etc). And since we're talking cliches and nostalgia, I feel like I should specify: no leather pants!