Covered, Clothed and Over-joyed

"Yes," said I, glancing warily at the clock: 4.oo AM.
And so I began to unwind on the plush couch.
"Now tell me," said I, but in a different voice, "why are you here?"
"Me?" I gasped; I wasn't expecting the question.
"Yes, you," I confirmed.
But aside from that, I decided I needed to sink into code to cover up certain things that didn't flop out right.
"Not in here please," said I sternly.
I listened and lay back down.
"What do you think?" I continued.
"It's very nice. I like the ambiance." I answered, petering into bad French inflection.
I was right as well. The room we were in was certainly nice. I couldn't think up anything visible through the window that wouldn't ruin the mood, though.
"What was wrong with it?" I asked, rapidly changing the subject.
"Haste," I replied simply.
"Elaborate."
"Repetition."
"Keep going."
"Good points lost."
"Uh huh."
"Well, bye."
"Bye."