Highlander ficlet: Rarely Pure and Never Simple 1/1
Title: Rarely Pure and Never Simple
Fandom: Highlander
Character: Amanda
Words: 530
Summary: Amanda meets Oscar Wilde.
A/N: Unbeta'd. Inspired by an icon by jinxed_wood
Amanda loved Victorian London, it was so vibrant and alive, full of the hope of a new century. She was currently heading to the theatre to meet her dear friend Miss Bernhardt who had invited her to the opening night of Mr. Wilde’s latest play.
She enjoyed the performance immensely, though she commented that Sarah would have been much better in the lead female role. Afterwards, they headed to the party being held by the lead actor and Sarah introduced Amanda to the author before disappearing into the crowd.
“Miss Duprés, I’m charmed,” Mr. Wilde said with a bow and kissed her hand. Amanda smiled coquettishly, but she didn’t give him her most flirtatious smile. After nearly a thousand years around men, she knew it would be wasted on Mr. Wilde.
“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Wilde. Your play was a triumph, I can’t wait to see what you write for us next,” Amanda replied.
“Oh, please, call me Oscar, everybody does. And one as charming as you should most certainly do so,” he said, grabbing two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and passing one to Amanda. “Now, did you really enjoy the play? I found it a little dull.”
“But how? You wrote the thing!” Amanda said with a laugh.
“Ah yes, but when one is the parent, one can’t bear to see your child outshine you,” Oscar said with a wicked grin. “Do you have children Miss Duprés?”
“Call me Amanda, please. And no, I never married.”
“But you know what I mean, after all we all know how our own parents react to our successes and failures,” Oscar said.
“I’m afraid not, you see I’m an orphan,” Amanda explained. It was strange for her not to lie about such a thing, to pretend she was of aristocratic birth, but something about Oscar was so disarming that the truth sprang from her before she could stop it.
“Oh my, to lose one parent would be a tragedy, but to lose both, that would seem like carelessness,” Oscar said. Amanda laughed, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood.
She and Oscar chatted away like old friends for several hours after that, both finding the other’s company witty and charming. The party had dwindled to only a few revellers when Amanda finally began to yawn.
“Oh dear, is my company so dull?” Oscar asked with a smile. “I think perhaps we ought to find you a hansom cab.”
He took Amanda by the arm and led her out to the street. It was now the early hours of the morning so there were no cabs nearby, so they walked toward a main thoroughfare in amicable silence.
After a few yards, they passed a little boy, a street urchin, asleep in a doorway. Amanda stopped and reached into her purse. She pulled out two sovereigns and placed them in the boy’s pocket.
“How very generous of you my dear,” Oscar commented.
“I was there once, I know how it feels to be in the gutter,” Amanda replied a little sad.
“But my dear, we are all of us in the gutter. But some of us are looking at the stars.”