Watching old movies makes me think of Napoleon.

Well, watching old movies with Napoleon makes me think of Napoleon, but doing anything with Napoleon makes it hard to keep my mind off him.

Some old movies make me think of him more than others. This one was made in 1939. Melvyn Douglas is the male romantic lead, and though he is not nearly as attractive as my partner, something about them is achingly similar, and I don't think I'd mind playing Garbo to Napoleon's Douglas. If I thought he'd take me.

Next to me on his sofa, Napoleon laughs, and I realize I've just missed a line. I've already seen this film several times, so I suppose it's all right, though it is distressing to me that I should be so wrapped up in him that I lose track of everything else. If it ever happened in the field, it could get me killed. Worse, it could get Napoleon killed.

"Hey," He touched my elbow. "You okay?"

"I am fine, Napoleon." I think I sort of lied to him.

"You don't look very fine. Or very happy. Do you not like the movie? You chose it,"

"No, I do. It's one of my favourites. I guess I'm just... occupied."

"You know, I've never seen it before. I'm glad you made me watch it."

"Well, it was on television tonight, and I thought... I mean, it is a good movie."

He nodded, and went back to watching. There was another stretch of quiet.

"They end up together, right?" He asked suddenly.

"What?"

"They wind up together in the end. I mean, they have to, don't they? It doesn't seem like the kind of movie that springs a tragic ending on you, not after all the funny lines."

I nodded. "Of course they end up together. They were written for each other."

He grinned, and I smiled back, and felt warm. The warm didn't last, it never does. As soon as he turned away, it faded. I want to end up together. I want something out there to have written Napoleon and I for each other. I've never believed in God, but if Napoleon loves me before the final scene fades to black and the credits roll on my otherwise rather unhappy life, I'll start believing.

His arm rests along the back of the couch. If I was sitting closer to him, it would be behind me. After a moment of hard deliberation, I scoot towards the center of the couch. He looks over to me, surprised.

"Better view of the TV from here." I explained. I don't know quite how I kept my cool, but I managed not to betray any emotion.

We both relaxed at the same time, and the movie continued, and the brash American onscreen continued to do his best to be charming. Not half as charming as Napoleon, and Douglas has a scriptwriter. I can't think of a single film star who could match Napoleon, though. Not old movies or new ones.

Cary Grant comes the closest, but he still doesn't have Napoleon's je ne sais quoi.

After my film is over, there is a monster movie which Napoleon convinces me to stay for. It's late, but if he is inviting, I am accepting. Besides, if it gets too late, maybe he won't be suspicious if I accidentally fall asleep on his shoulder...

~FIN~

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