Dougie tapped his fingers off the bar table thoughtfully, his eyes on the figure across the bar. Today was the day, he had decided. Today was the day that he finally expressed his true feelings. Then, she would know how much she consumed his every waking thought.

He frowned slightly as he tried to plan how he would go about his declaration. He needed to be intelligent, witty and charming, but he never seemed to be when he was faced with her. Whenever he looked into her eyes, all thoughts seemed to escape from his head and he was reduced to a fool.

He looked down at his tapping fingers, feeling his cheeks flush hot at the mere thought of making an idiot of himself in front of her once more. Someone cleared their throat meaningfully, and he looked up to see her standing there. “Would you like another one?” she asked, picking up his empty glass.

“No, thanks.”

She shrugged, “Okay.”

He watched her walk off, and cursed himself for not taking the chance while she had been there. But maybe he should wait until he had something planned out before he dared to speak to her. But what could he do…?

She walked towards him with a tray of beer, and he watched her pass. Okay. That was it. He was just going to wing it. At least then he could say he had tried. So, as she past it, he snagged her arm. “Marke but this flea,” he declared, spotting the insect crawling up her arm as he stood from his stool. At least, he thought it was a flea…

She raised an eyebrow at him, and opened her mouth to respond, but he continued seamlessly, going with his new idea. “And marke in this.” He looked up into her eyes, and purred the next line, “How little that which thou denyst me is.”

Her lips curved slowly, and he felt his heart lift. He had amused her already. Returning his attention to the insect itself. “It suck’d me first,” he whispered, lowering his voice to emphasise the word ‘suck’. She might accuse him of purposefully choosing that word, but he was simply talking about the flea… “And now sucks thee,” he added, leaning forward to whisper into her ear. He felt a shiver go through her. “And in this flea, our two bloods mingled bee…”

He pulled back, ignoring the chill that went through him at the loss of intimacy. He held up a finger, “Thou know’st that this cannot be said a sinne, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead.” And he hoped that she believed his words. There would be nothing wrong with getting into a relationship with him. He just needed to convince her.

“Yet,” he said thoughtfully, running a finger down her arm gently. “This enjoyes before it wooe, and pamper’d swells with one blood made of two.” He lowered his voice suggestively on this part, and he saw a faint blush stain her cheeks at the light sexual connotation. But, of course, if she dared question him on it, he would claim that he was talking solely about the flea.

He shook his head slightly, “And this, alas, is more than we would doe.”

At this slight anticlimax, she shook her head also, and looked down at the flea that was still climbing up her arm. She moved her thumb to hover over the animal, and Dougie could tell that it was her intention to squash it.

“Oh, stay,” he cried, grabbing her wrist as her thumb began to make the descent and pulling it back. “Three lives in one flea spare!” She hesitated, cocking an eyebrow at him, and he knew that he had to think fast in order to spare the poor creature’s life.

“Where wee almost, yea, more than maryed are,” he invented, then wondered how the hell he was going to come back from that. “This flea is you and I,” he claimed, motioning to it with the hand that he wasn’t using to restrain her. “And this our marriage bed, and marriage temple is!”

The incredulous look on her face deepened, though he could still see the telltale curve on her lips. She may think he was insane, but he still had her attention. “Though parents grudge…” he began in mock seriousness. Then he reconsidered, and added, “And you.” At her laugh, he felt that he could continue, “W’are met. And cloystered in these living walls of Jet.”

She pulled a face, obviously not approving of his comparing the insect to a gorgeous building and a semi-precious stone. “Though use make you apt to kill mee,” Dougie continued, before she could scoff and walk away. “Let not to that, self murder added bee.” Raising a finger, he pointed to her heart; he tried to show her what he meant. The flea contained both of our blood- if she killed it, she would kill a part of us.

“And sacrilege,” he added, coming back to the argument that the flea was their marriage temple. “Three sinnes…” he said firmly, trying to keep his face grim, but he could tell that she was fighting not to laugh. “…in killing three.”

She laughed now, and wrenched her arm free. Before he could stop her, she brought her thumb round and squashed the subject of his speech. He gasped, stumbling back slightly. “Cruell and sodaine,” he whispered. He narrowed his eyes, playing the overreaction out, “Hast thou since purpled thy naile, in blood of innocence?”

She rolled her eyes, but he shushed her before she could speak a word in her defence. He didn’t want to hear any excuses from a flea-murderer! “Wherein could this flea guilty bee-?” he demanded in anguish. “Except in that drop which it suckt from thee?!”

Letting out a laugh, she tossed her head back freely. Her eyes were bright as she finally managed to get a word in edgeways. Dougie listened carefully, and then responded: “Yet thou triumph’st, and saist that thou find’st not thy selfe, nor mee, the weaker now?”

She nodded, her lips turning upwards in a smirk, and he sighed. “‘Tis true,” he surrendered. “Then learne how false feares bee.” He took her hand and traced his thumb over the soft skin. There was a questioning look in her eyes now as she watched him, and he leaned forward again so his mouth was next to her ear:

“Just so much honor, when thou yeeld’st to mee will wast, as this flea’s death tooke life from thee.”

She laughed again as his act came to an end, and pushed him back lightly so she could stare into his eyes. “Go home, Dougie,” was all she said, pressing a single firm kiss to his lips before detaching herself and walking away towards the bar.

Dougie grinned after him, and thumbed his lip fondly, feeling the remnants of her kiss. Maybe not a promise, but it was a start. He’d gained her attention, and now he just had to finish his mission.

If this was the result that he got by spouting random poetry, then he would do so more often!