10th Contraption: Mawwiage

[pineapplesalmon]

Who: John Watson, Johnny Summer, and César Salazar with Rich Goranski, Fio, and Honoria Crabb AND YOU Oh god why are weddings like this
What: The throuple getting married by... the Captain?!
When: December 11th at 7pm
Where: John's
Warnings: I believe in us! But for now, nothing.


SEATING

John's has been transformed, the seating up front rearranged in rows towards the center dias with an aisle down the middle, the piano moved off to one side. The buffet for later can be seen off to the other. Decorations taken from Spirit Halloween appear here and there–flowers taken from cavalera flower crowns, sun and moon candlestick holders from the tarot collection, festively colored tablecloths draped down the walls like curtains or banners. A sign near the entrance says "seat yourself", although the front row on one side is reserved with a ribbon across the backs.

What can't be seen is who is officiating. Or the husbands, but at least that part makes sense. The dais is empty.


THE CEREMONY

As one of the few traditions in this wedding, music announces the start of the ceremony. Rich strolls in first, trying to look professional even if he’s clearly shaking a bit as he holds the small pillow with the rings laid on it. At least he’s dressed quite smartly, Johnny ensuring his red suit is wrinkle free and his cuff links are set in place. Fio, in a winged black dress and flowery headdress, follows after the ring bearer, adorning the path with paper petals as she moves along.

The first husband to be down the aisle is none other than Johnny, in a smart charcoal grey suit with a goldenrod pocketsquare, gold jewelry, and a wreath of orange blossoms on his head; and accompanied by Honoria Crabb in her perfectly tailored black tuxedo, worn with black gloves and a white bow tie. Watson and César take up the rear, arms linked together. César is wearing an equally fancy suitcoat with his tie held in place with a ruby and silver tie pin, and Watson is wearing an officer’s dress uniform, with the sword and without the helmet, and also his good cane. All three husbands-to-be are wearing green carnation boutonnières.


AFTER PARTY

It's time to eat, dance, and party!

The seating has been rearranged for sitting at tables around the "dance" floor. Food from Windjammer has been placed on some tables for a buffet. There’s a selection of fancy cheeses and crackers, sushi, premade sandwiches, and salad with dressings on the side. For dessert, to one side there’s a table with cupcakes, cookies, and chocolates arranged in a heart. On the bar are a couple bowls of punch (including one explicitly labeled as non-alcoholic) made by Johnny ahead of time, because he's been forbidden to bartend his own wedding, much to his deep chagrin.

There’s a space set just off the dancefloor for musicians who wish to perform, the usual John’s piano (bribed into behaving with a whole pan of beef brisket from the buffet) off to one side.

Comments

[not_the_last]

She smiles at him, and makes a little abbreviated curtsy. "Why, thank you. Those colors suit you admirably." And no, she doesn't have any frame of reference for his clothes, but it's easy enough to address colors.

[inhairently]

Steve shrugs in an "oh, this ol' thing?" sort of way and says, "Thanks." Then, in a tone that's slightly more serious but would still seem casual enough to the random listener, he asks, "Interesting ceremony, huh?"

[not_the_last]

"Oh, yes." She doesn't miss a beat, matching his tone and maintaining her smile. "Most unexpected."

[inhairently]

"Even more interesting to see how people reacted," he says. His pose is casual, arms folded across his chest, but he's watching the crowd. His eyes linger on the Captain across the room before landing on Cassandra again. "I haven't been to too many weddings, though. Maybe this is what they're always like."

Rife with drama! Officiated by one's kidnapper!

[not_the_last]

"I haven't been to very many myself," she agrees, and her gaze flicks to follow his, just long enough for him to notice.

Neither of them is telepathic, but nonetheless a thought is almost certainly being shared right now.

[inhairently]

"You wanna dance?" he asks. "I guess we should. For the, uh, grooms."

Or, to keep up appearances.

It's a slower song right now and he feels more comfortable with that than going out and dancing to something more fun, at least while the Captain is lurking (and like not kissing his bf yet but not paying attention to anyone else, whatever).

[not_the_last]

"Oh, I should be delighted." She holds out a hand for him to take, ready to move out onto the dance floor, poised and smiling.

(The smile doesn't touch her eyes; they're dark and watchful.)

[inhairently]

He takes her hand and leads her out to the dance floor. Hawkins may not have been a hot spot for formal dancing but he knows enough not to go for the classic high school hands-on-the-waist slow dance pose. Instead he steps into the closed dance hold position, though if asked he wouldn't have a clue that's what it's called. He looks like he knows what he's doing — left hand holding her right, right hand on her back — but he's totally winging it.

"You might have to tell me what comes next," he admits with a sheepish smile.

[not_the_last]

She rests her left hand on his shoulder, completing the position, and returns the smile. "I don't think we're likely to know any of the same dances anyway. Do you see how some of the couples here are just swaying and turning in place? Let's try that."

[inhairently]

Good enough for him. He falls into step, doing the ol' sway-and-circle. If this were a movie this might be the part where they suddenly exchange their true thoughts on this whole situation, as if dance floors are suddenly immune to prying ears, but Steve doesn't feel comfortable so much as uttering the Captain's name in such close proximity to the man himself.

It's kind of stupid, when he thinks about it.

"You know, we should talk sometime," he says. "Not today, obviously. But sometime soon."

[not_the_last]

"Perhaps not today," she agrees, "but yes."

A pause.

"For what it's worth, I don't think anything is likely to happen here and now. Everyone here seems invested in maintaining the niceties."

[inhairently]

"I think you're probably right," he nods, "but I would've said that the last few times something happened, too. I don't know. I have a pretty bad feeling about it."

[not_the_last]

"Well." Quiet, and sober. "I hope I'm right this time. I'm going to try and keep watch, at least, though ... honestly I'm not sure how much use I'll be if anything does happen."

[inhairently]

"Yeah, me neither." That doesn't mean he wouldn't throw himself into the fray if something happened, of course, but he really feels pretty useless here on a ship full of people with superpowers and magic. "I... I guess I just don't understand how we got here."

To this point. Where the Captain can officiate a wedding and half the passengers barely bat an eye. Where the people getting married seem perfectly pleased to have him.

[not_the_last]

"We grew accustomed." Her tone is astonishingly grim, in contrast with her practiced pleasant smile. "They say one can grow accustomed to anything, given enough time."

And doesn't she have reason to know it.

[inhairently]

He recalls a conversation from what feels like months ago, though it really was only a handful of weeks. He and Vance had discussed some passengers' fondness for the Captain. If it had seemed like an issue then, it's feels like a situation beyond salvaging now.

But he's part of the problem, too, isn't he? After all, he'd sat and played along at that stupid game show like everyone else.

"You're right," he nods. He's finding it increasingly difficult to keep a passive expression, and his brow begins to furrow. "So we stay alert. If you notice me getting too comfortable, remind me I'm not here on a goddamn vacation."

[not_the_last]

In a small selfish corner of her heart, that we is achingly good to hear.

"Smile," she advises him quietly. "Yes, we stay alert. But we won't do ourselves or anyone else any good by being on edge every moment. That just leaves you exhausted. Can you be comfortable, or seem to be, and not lose sight of the larger situation? And still be ready to act, when the moment comes?"

[inhairently]

Oh, right. He manages to smooth his expression back into something neutral, even if he can't quite manage pleasant.

"Yeah, I can do that," he answers confidently. That's pretty much been his default state of living for the past three years back home, after all. "It's just kind of hard to picture what 'acting' means here."

He's good at hitting things. A regular guy hitting things isn't so useful here.

[not_the_last]

She breathes out, a barely audible sigh. Her face doesn't change.

"I don't know what it means here either. And I'm worried about that. That we might not recognize the opportunity or the right action when it comes, or ... that we might do something terrible because it feels better than doing nothing."

[inhairently]

Steve almost frowns again, but catches it and maintains that not-quite-happy-not-quite-angry passiveness he's struggling to keep up.

"Okay," he says after a second or two. "We have people from all over, right? Different times, different worlds. We've all seen things. We have our own ways of dealing with them. So we use that, right?"

What initially might look like a weakness — a disjointed group of generally traumatized people — might actually be their greatest strength. Funny how that works.

"I see what I think might be an opportunity to attack, you see a trap. So I don't do anything until I talk to you first, and vice versa. It's a start, at least."

Doesn't help much in heat-of-the-moment, do-or-die type scenarios but he's really not sure what to do there beyond act on impulse and suffer the consequences.

[not_the_last]

"We check each other," she says -- slowly, consideringly. "And if we can't agree that something is a good idea to try, we ... discuss how to adjust it?"

(And she can't help thinking: this would be such a perfect opportunity, if she were secretly working with the Captain.)

[inhairently]

"Exactly," Steve says. "I mean, maybe it won't always work but right now I think it's all we got."

[not_the_last]

She nods, as the music comes to a close.

"I think you're right; that is all we've got. Best we use it wisely."

[inhairently]

As the music stops he steps back and lets his hands settle on his hips. Maybe it's not the most appropriate post-dance pose to assume (he's seen movies, he knows this is where you bow and thank the lady for this dance or whatever) but he's debating whether or not to say the words that currently sit stuck uncomfortably in his throat.

In the end, he decides to get it over with. Their more secretive discussion is done for now and he feels like he has to get this out of the way before he can move forward.

"Hey, listen," he says, dropping the neutral act and allowing himself to slip into something that looks as tense as he feels. "A while back you tried to talk to me about October and I kind of shut you down. That wasn't cool. We can talk about it later. Whenever. Just.. uh. You know. Find me, or whatever."

[not_the_last]

She blinks in surprise. Several thoughts go through her mind at once, but that's the topmost: surprise, that he's still thinking about having done that, about how she must have felt about it, that he's ... apologizing. To her.

"Thank you," she says, honestly. "I ... may take you up on that. At the upcoming excursion, perhaps."

(As things fall out, that doesn't happen.)