Bishop/Marina --> Demi/Marina (just arriving)
“Depends on how much makeup and hair shit you have…” Bishop was smirking now. “Could be I ain’t strong enough to haul it all.” He finished with a laugh, easily identifying the items in question. “Now, I ain’t sure I could picture you losing your shit over a suit. But again, since it’s your wedding day I’ll humor you and let you uphold this cliche.” He had on shoulder leaning against the doorframe now, waiting for Marina to give the go-ahead to grab her things and head out. “You ‘bout ready to go?”
“You know me. I don’t really lose my shit about anything,” she said as she did one last sweep of the RV, grabbing an eyelash curler that she’d forgotten to grab earlier, then gave a decisive nod. She’d cleaned the place of anything remotely related to beauty products and if that wasn’t enough to get ready for a wedding… well, Vic would just have to take her anyway.
“Good to go. Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Marina departed the RV, white suit in hand, and waited for Bishop to join her side before she began walking towards the Cat House. “I assume you’ve been to one of these things here before? Not really sure what I’m getting myself into,” she laughed. She’d given some input about the ceremony but beyond that, she wasn’t exactly sure what all the traditions were.
With all of Marina’s beauty stuff in hand, Bishop fell into step beside her as they wove their way through the rows of RV’s, tents and trailers towards Cat House. “Couple of times, yeah,” Bishop started. “Each one was different, dictated by the couple's behavior. Some of ‘em have taken full advantage of the bed, while others have shown more discretion,” there was no judgment in his tone either way when it came to what the couples chose to do or not do. Wasn’t like people hooking up around the bonfire was a rare occurrence.
Marina snorted at the idea of some newlyweds fucking on a bed, surrounded by people. But some people got off on that sort of thing...
“Vic didn’t tell you what you could expect?” He questioned, taking a pause before he added. “Or do you just want to hear it from an unbiased opinion, someone who ain’t afraid you’ll get cold feet and leave ‘em at the altar?” Now Bishop was smirking, his words might have accused Vic of being afraid, but his tone made it obvious he was mostly teasing.
“Oh I heard all about the bed. And reassured him that we weren’t going to fuck in the open where his son could see us,” she rolled her eyes. If this kind of thing had ever happened with Emmanuel she probably would have let him fuck her, wanting everyone to see that she was his. But she liked that with Vic, she didn’t feel the need to prove anything. That just went to show how much better he was for her.
“And I’m not getting cold feet. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to dance if I’m stuck in a bed all night,” she smirked.
Marina's words earned a chuckle from Bishop. While many had in fact taken full advantage of the bed, he appreciated the fact that Marina had no plans to do so with Vic. Not that he would have judged them if they had decided they were going to do that, but, something about it screamed out as a twisted play for attention -- and cheapened a relationship in his own opinion.
Plus, the Chaplain was positive that Vic's son would no doubt be happier if his dad and new step-mom kept that for behind closed doors.
"Have to admit I respect you for the decision to keep that part of your relationship private," he responded with a genuine smile. "And I ain't got any clue how you're supposed to dance," Bishop paused. "Honestly, I ain't ever seen anyone try too, or even get off the bed." Was there a penalty for vacated the bed? If there was nobody had ever attempted it to find out.
The mental image of Marina attempting to get get Vic to dance with her on the bed flashed through his mind and Bishop found himself laughing again. "I'd pay good money to see you try dancing on that bed though, or actually, to see Vic attempt it." Bishop had a sneaking suspicion the bed may not have been built to withstand something like that with a man of Vic's size.