"Yeah," Jag stated, voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm with you for your eyeliner." Disgusted with the conversation, he fiddled with the bow tie until he managed to pull it off at last. It got thrown onto the nearest piece of furniture, and Jag spoke again as he unbuttoned the top of his shirt, anger back in his tone. "I'm here in a fucking tuxedo, Val. Maybe I should be asking you if you like me for what I am, or what you're trying to turn me into. The minute I don't fit into that - perfect, mellow bloke you want, you question my feelings for you."