"What exactly, is that actor wearing?"
"It's David Bowie. That's actually kinda normal by his standards." Abbie assured her fellow Witness. Ichabod averted his eyes. "That's wildly inappropriate."
"This is probably not how I should have introduced you to the fantasy genre, though it was one of the few movies I actually watched as a kid. I think I should have started you off with Lord of the Rings." Abbie sighed. Ichabod however had no answer, he had become absorbed in the bright red-orange creatures prancing across the screen, uttering a short, startled laugh when they began to throw their heads after the heroine. Abbie smiled, settling back onto the couch - Ichabod laughed so seldom, she relished the sound. By the time the battle sequence at the end of the movie rolled around, Abbie noticed Ichabod clenching his first and tensing at pivotal points as if he could leap through the screen and assist the heroine, and she smiled to herself. Watching Ichabod watch movies was equally as good entertainment as the television screen was.
"And you say this was all done with puppets?"
"Yep. Jim Hensen was the James Cameron of his time - this was very cutting edge when it was released."
"It does have a certain charm over all this computer-generated explosive nonsense."
"CGI. Computer-generated imagery. Because it's a lot cheaper to have a computer fake your explosion than blow something up for real."
"That reminds me, I read an article on the Wiki about a movie that utilized practical efforts over your C-G-I." Ichabod wrinkled his nose at the acronym - Abbie held back a smile, knowing he hated them. (Though CGI was perhaps a little less hated than his least favoruite these days, FBI). "What was it? The movie?"
"Something in a series called Mad Max. I profess, the title did not exactly fill me with anticipation, but I am prepared to entertain the idea and withhold judgement until such a time."
"Good. Now zip it for a minute, he's about to sing again."
Apparently Ichabod didn't mind David Bowie's singing ability, since silence reigned until the credits began to roll. Abbie stretched and flexed her hands together over her head. "Did you like that one?"
"Yes, though it did have many an oddity. Perhaps I'm merely too old for the fantasy realm."
"Two hundred is too old for fantasy, but not superheros?" Abbie teased, and Ichabod grinned, an eyebrow raising in challenge. "As long as your Mr. Hemsworth is involved in my superhero fancies, I don't hear you complaining."
Abbie removed the DVD from the player and replaced it in its case, smiling at the familiar cover. Her childhood had few high points, few ventures to theaters or days spent in front of the television, but this movie was a fond reminder of those rare good time. Her hands lingered over the cover, though she knew the artwork off by heart. Then, with a sigh, she replaced the DVD on the shelf. Childhood was a long, long way behind her, despite her comparative youth. It was a blessing when she and her partner found two hours to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. She knew she had to learn to seize these moments as they came - before one or another of their brushes with death stole the chance off of them for good. After all, nobody knew how much time they had left.
"Come on Ichabod, let's get to bed. You use the shower first. No doubt there'll be a fresh catastrophe waiting for us in the morning."

A/N - this was of course written for the great David Bowie in the wake of his death. The world is a little less bright, as one more star joins those in the night sky.