"We could have steaks afterwards. A steak barbeque."
Who: Domino, Pete Wisdom What: Talking about things involving dresses and rings. When: Actually took place (and was rp'd) right after the Thailand log, which was rp'd on like...saturday/sunday night iirc? Simply needed written out since it was in script format, and that took me forever due to my narcolepsy and stuff around the house, so it's my bad it's so late. Sorry! I am teh suck. :| Where: Thailand. Rating: PG13, language. No pewpews, but there is conversational mention of target practice, found within. So there's fair warning if anyone's sensitive about that stuff right now due to current events. :/ Status: Complete!
After the entire Thailand A-Team adventure, Pete had somehow managed NOT to puke his guts out during the chopper ride back to Bangkok. It was by some miracle, because he still looked to be a mild shade of mint green, but the worst was over and he knew it. Once they were back at the hotel and the day’s work was done - including sorting out how soon a departure flight was - he took a very, very hot shower. A shower in which he spent the vast majority of the time huffing the soap, in order to get any and all residual traces of burn smells out of his nose.
Finally finished, he emerged out of the bathroom wearing a fluffy white hotel bathrobe and promptly flop sat on the bed. Or, more precisely, his butt met the bed and he sat for a second, before flopping onto his back. He even acted dainty when he made sure his robe was kept closed, making sure to keep it held together with plucky fingertips so she didn’t get a show. The scruffy British tease.
The other bed had become a packing staging area. Dom had all the luggage out on it, and most of their things were piled in various stacks while she started packing them back up in preparation for their flight that evening.
He tilted his head up to look at her for a moment, watching her sort and pack things, with the same attention she paid to cleaning guns and...just about every other task she set her mind to.
"We've still got a few hours b'fore we have t'go," he finally pointed out.
She shrugged a shoulder, paying more attention to the packing than to him, "I like being prepared."
In response, he pressed his lips together and fell silent. It appeared he was staring off at nothing in particular, momentarily lost in deep thoughts.
She looked over at him, still a bit worried from earlier, "You should rest, anyway, with those hours."
"I think I just want t'go home. That's all. I'll feel better there." His entire face quirked up, and he gave her an apologetic kicked puppy stare as he looked over at her again. "...so much for putting on a brave face, eh?" He added in a softer tone of voice, because he did appreciate what she did for him, "Cheers for knowing an' trying t'help."
"You fail at brave faces in front of me just like my usual armor doesn't even deflect you anymore," Dom observed while folding some laundry, "You're welcome, though. I mean, I was just trying to help ... it's hard when we have to do this in front of other people."
"If it was our own group, different story. That's true. Even with Wilson, we know him...so it wasn't such a major ordeal or the likes. You did help."
She nodded her head in agreement, then blinked up at him, "...That’s a relief."
"You always help," he said, still on his back, head tilted so he could look up at her. "If you hadn't been around, then...I probably wouldn't be 'ere right now, or I'd be worse off than I was."
"I remembered the one time, where you kept sniffing at my neck," her tone was warm with fondness, despite the fact that that day had not been under the best of circumstances. She’d changed out of her suit when they’d gotten back, and now started folding it up carefully for travel.
"...ah, you know me too well. M'going t'have to destroy you," joked Pete, with a fond expression on his face.
"How will you go about doing that, I wonder? I apparently survive damn near everything," she snarked, while tossing her heels into a bag. Mentally, she corrected herself. Except a Sentinel blast.
"I dunno...screw you t'death?" The most he could do to punctuate that statement, was offer up a mini-shrug.
She smirked a bit, "That would take a long time."
"I'll have t'cash in on me vacation time, I s'pose." He adopted a light and airy brit voice, "...yay, m'taking a holiday t'shag you t'death..."
"I wasn't aware we needed holiday time for that."
He blink blink blinked at her. That moment was utterly shattered with a naughty smile spread itself over the lower half of his face.
"Well maybe not t'death," was his thoroughly amused clarification. "I was merely exaggerating. Do you want t'roam around for a while b'fore we have t'hop on a plane? I think my stomach's settled down to a dull roar."
Dom started pulling the clips out of their pistols and checking the chambers in them before setting them aside to be packed, "You aren't feeling well, I'm not going to make you walk around Thailand."
"You want t'see it though an' m'feeling better. One element o' disgust has been left out o' the equation. That being compounds in the middle o' nowhere." He rolled onto his side, so he could get a better view of her and what she was doing. "I'll buy you summat sweet from the street vendors. They're all o'er. All of it's good, too. I'll get you a banana roti or summat."
She looked at him, "Are you sure you're feeling better?"
There was his best innocent expression. "O'course."
Dom didn’t buy that innocent expression for a second. She eyed him suspiciously.
"I feel better. That's actually the truth. I'll feel great when we're on our way home, naturally. But..oh don't you give me that look." He eyed her, amused where she was suspicious. "M'going t'take it easy with wot I eat b'fore we go. And...like I said...you helped. I would've lost it, twice, at least...if you hadn't noticed an' helped."
As he was speaking, Dom picked her pistol back up and put the clip back in it, preparing to hit the streets again instead of staying in.
"Okay then," she smiled at him. She was sincerely glad that she’d been that great a help, "We watch each other's backs."
"We do. I quite like watching yer back. If I look down, it's where yer bum is, an' you've got a lovely bum, m'dear. I have to protect it. Anyway. Do you like bananas? With chocolate an' things?"
She pulled her holster back on while replying, "I can say with confidence that I have never eaten bananas with 'chocolate an'things'."
"Oh, brilliant. It's...they fry this crepey thing an' slice banana on it, then fold it up...an' slice it into bits. Then they put this condensed milk an' chocolate sauce o'er it, an' somewhere in there, there's a dash of sugar. It's lovely, really."
He started to get his butt in gear, getting up off the bed to get dressed, as well as to make sure his things were all packed.
"It sounds delicious." She pulled her jacket on.
He didn’t even need to worry about making sure his stuff was packed. She noticed he was poking around and helpfully pointed at his bags.
He had been dressing in a very sloppy manner but beggars can't be chooo....bloody hell, she did pack his belongings.
"Marry me," he said with a huge grin. To him, Dommy was a functionally obsessive-compulsive luggage organizing love bunny.
Dom grinned in response to that. The idea of taking things more seriously when he said that kind of thing was becoming more and more of a good one.
Pete winked at her, and nodded. Once he was dressed, he looked determined to have some good memories of Thailand, rather than the one from his dreams where he was on a one-man wetworks mission. It wasn’t so wet, either, considering it was more deep fried.
"Off to eat dessert then, Thai style," he said, ready to get out to the street vendors and get to chowing down.
The Thai dessert he’d described sounded delicious. It was, as Dom had decided, a ‘chocolate banana thing’. She’d try it once, at least.
He’s decided it is divine, just like she is. That is all there is, to it. Of course, he wasn’t about to go about CHEWING on her or anything. That’s cannibalism. C’mon. That’s just wrong. Petey don’t play that.
Besides, it was sweet. He had discovered Dom’s weakness. Now he’d probably ply her with sweets all the time and make her fat. It wasn’t a bad idea.
Off they went, for dessert time! Where he is going to get his fingers all sticky n' chocolate smudgy most likely, while feeding her bits of it. Sure there’s utensils but what’s the point of using them? Fingers make it more worthwhile an experience.
If he was getting chocolate smudged all over his fingers, then she’d probably lick them clean. She’d at least daydream about doing so.
Well, cheers then for making Thailand a delightfully better place, for her being there with him and helping him out so much, in a time of need. It was greatly appreciated. And he really did appreciate it, since he doesn't know what he would've done without her.
He could count on her to help him out anytime.
Likewise! And he was secretly thinking that they could maybe talk while they wander around, about...things.
---------
Several minutes later, Dom found herself partaking in the eating of a delicious chocolate banana thing.
By then, he had taken it upon himself to feed her part of the banana crepe...chocolate-sauced sugary thing. He’d also snuck a couple of bites for himself in there, for good measure.
The chocolate sauce was so delicious that Dom was licking it off of her fingers, so none would go to waste.
That was evil. He had been getting a little shifty-eyed about some matters he wanted to speak about, but the precise second she started doing that, he wasn’t shifty-eyed any longer. Instead, he seemed rather transfixed.
"So," he began, still watching her fingers and her mouth...and the divine things happening between the two. "You pretty much know me better than anyone."
"...mm?" She paused in the licking of her fingers and darted her eyes to the side a bit, self-conscious about the topic at hand, "I'm just observant. And pay attention, most of the time."
"Well...right," he admitted, "that, also. Same for me, I think...with you, I mean."
She darted her eyes off to the other side, "Except when I'm zoned out and staring at things that aren't there..."
"I care but...I mean I care wot it's doing t'you but...that's not going t'chase me off, Neena. So I don't care that you zone out an' stare at things that aren't there, cos I know we'll get it sorted sooner or later." He paused and quirked his lips up, looking unsure. "If that makes sense."
She stole another bite of the dessert, "You keep saying that."
"I have t'keep saying it. So you'll believe it an' won't let it gnaw at yer brain like I know it's probably doing. It's wot boyfriends are s'posed t'do for girlfriends."
"... no," she shook her head, "I mean the part where it won't scare you off."
"I want t'make sure you know m'not going to do that," he stated, as though it was a well-known fact. "Cos I won't."
She glanced at him, "Are you worried about that?"
Pete was going to light a cigarette, but licked at his thumb instead to get some of the chocolate off. The last thing he wanted was a chocolate flavored cigarette. He wasn’t a girl.
"No, m'not. But I'm worried that yer worried about that." He lit one up, off a fingertip, foregoing the use of a lighter. He was discreet about it, cupping his other hand around like he was shielding it from a non-existent wind.
She shook her head, "I'm not worried about that. Not anymore."
"Mmm? Good then." He exhaled a plume of smoke and looked around, as if he were searching for something. Something in the form of the right words, maybe. "...soooooooo..."
It seemed like he had something to say, something that he’d been dancing around for quite a bit now. She tilted her head to the side and regarded him for a moment, "Out with it."
True, he had been staring about like he was thinking about puzzling things. That was until she said that, causing him to stare back at her with his eyebrows all quirked around funnily.
"Give me a moment, pushy arse. Don't make me pinch you. Got t'put it delicately an' you know how I get cos I can't put things...nicely." His nose was up in the air a little bit. "M'trying t'be diplomatic."
She arched a brow, "Is this where you tell me something gorgeous about my eyes and then top it off with telling me I look fat in those pants though?"
"NO! Wot the feck?" Pete almost started laughing. "You ne'er look fat in anything you wear cos yer not fat!"
She grinned at that, and swiped the last of the dessert while he was talking.
He smiled and rolled his eyes a bit, letting her have the last bite. This wasn’t going to be an easy topic to approach, from any angle. That was why he took a deep breath - as much as his lungs would allow, and he made a conversational leap of faith.
"So here's where I ask wot you'd like, beyond the whole girlfriend boyfriend thing...cos I keep saying ‘marry me’ now rather than ‘un-marry me’. An' that makes me think things. I don't want t'feck things up, cos..." He grumbled Kitty's name, even though he believed he really was over her. "...don't want that t'happen again. I mean, m'sure that I want to, with you, but...s'better t'ask me better half."
Dom didn’t believe that for a minute, especially the part where he was calling her that aloud. She ducked her head a bit bashfully, "I'm not your better half.... I'm just .... your other half."
"I reserve the right t'think yer the better half of us, cos yer the cleaner one an' m'the sloppy fucker."
"You have many redeeming qualities," she assured him.
"...no one would believe a word o' that an' even I'm about to give you a highly suspect staring at." He proceeded to do that, giving her a very dubious staring at. "Still. I mean, have you thought about it at all, or is it too soon an' I should simply go bugger off an' let it drop?"
Dom looked thoughtful for a moment, as it occurred to her that they were really discussing this. Since they were, she wanted to be honest with him, "It's probably too soon to go making any plans... well ... I don't know. I want it. Then I get scared. Then I go back to wanting it. Then I get scared. I don't want you to let it drop, or bugger off."
She ran a hand up into her hair, and added, "I feel like I'm more than a girlfriend, though."
"I don't want to...well you could change yer mind someday...so maybe waiting is...good. I'm a bit fuckered cos o' wot happened b'fore with Kitty an' that's why m'saying that, cos I expect running off again, if I e'en ask." He watched her for a long moment and then said, very, very matter-of-factly, "You are."
Dom shook her head. It sounded like he was retreating, and she didn’t want him to retreat, "It's not that I'd change my mind, no."
"Well I don't want you t'be scared about it," he offered, "so holding off's good then."
"When I finally get around to loving someone," Dom said, a bit quietly, "I tend to love them for a very long time."
"Likewise. Nothin' t'take lightly."
She eyed him and admitted, a bit bluntly, "I'm scared you'll die. That isn't a fear that can be reasoned with, that you can check back with me later on about. I'm always going to be scared you'll die."
"It's not like I don't worry the same thing, only about you." He was staring right into her eyes, entirely serious and without any trace of sarcasm or grouchiness. "I know I love you an' I know that I want t'marry you. I don't have any question about either of those things. Not at all."
His words made her blush a bit, the pink very obvious against her much paler cheeks, "If you take everything else out of the picture..."
She trailed off a bit and smiled before adding, "Those two things are certain."
"It's like...as certain as the fact the sun is shiny an' birds shite on cars an' guns 'ave bullets."
And its official. Peter Wisdom wins at romance, due to statements like that. Only, you know, not so much. He was thoroughly enjoying watching her turn pinkish.
Dom ducked her head. This conversation wasn’t the easiest one she’d had this week, but it was probably one of the more important ones she’d have in her lifetime, "I keep having this mental picture of me, 10 years from now, telling someone else about the story of the two husband's i've buried now. Carrying the rings around on a chain like I already do. And they'll be like 'well you can keep your name', only the last name is Wisdom at that point, and I won't remember when it was Thurman, only that I carried the name and the weight of it longer than anything else."
"... and I don't know if I'd ever get there, if that happened to you. I don't know how many more times I can pick myself up and keep moving. It's stupid to think about stuff like that. But I do."
Still looking down at … anywhere that wasn’t him, she continued, "... I don't know if it ... I mean at this point if you were gone I'd be ruined anyway. At least then I could say I was your wife."
She shrugged a shoulder as she finished. It was far beyond too late for them to spare each other the hurt, if it came down to that. Having a name and a ring was something more than she’d have if she never married him.
"Yer not alone in that, either. I don't know if I could take it if you decided you didn't want me, an' if you left. Or if you died. Or if I lost you to a thousand other things. But I still want t'try, cos...right, it's daft of me to think that way." He put his cigarette out and reached out to brush a strand of her hair away from her face, with his fingertips. "Trust me. I want t'marry you and I'll do wot I can, if I can, t'make sure you don't have t'go through that again. After all...wot would Herman be, without his Edna?"
That made her smile a bit, "Sad and alone, I guess. Edna made his life fun."
"She does. Herman would be a miserable cranky bastard in fuckin' Florida, telling the kids t'stay away from the condominium...throwin' plastic decorative fruit at them o'er the balcony. An' the fruit'd probably be dusty, cos s'not like he can be arsed t'clean the feckin' place, if there's no Edna t'make sure things like that are sorted out."
He was certain to add quickly, "Not that he NEEDS Edna for that...it's just if Edna ENJOYS it, then...he wouldn't complain. If Edna wasn't around though, it'd be dusty decorative plastic fruits all o'er the place. An' pizza box furnishings."
"Silly Herman," She snerked, "He does too need Edna to do it."
Pete rolled his eyes a little and smiled before saying, "Maybe."
Domino smirked, "The fruit would never be dusted otherwise. Hitting toddlers with it doesn't count as dusting, by the way."
"Herman would think so," he replied, his smile turning into a huge grin.
"I think it's safe to say that Edna will want to say yes to Herman at some point here." she said, neatly summarizing where she stood on the whole thing. Mainly to get them back on topic.
However, this didn’t seem like a proposal to her - more like testing the waters a bit to see how the fish were biting - so she added with an eyedart, "If Herman ever came around asking questions with serious intent."
"I think Herman's going t'take that into some pretty serious consideration then." It definitely was water testing to see if there was a nibble on the line, and there appeared to be some nibbling. Therefore, maybe he was thinking about investing in some round circular metal ornamental objects worn on certain fingers. Maybe. Quite possibly. Or definitely.
Now that they were back on the topic, Dom felt like she needed to make her position on something kind of clear, "Edna is kind of a traditional old lady, though."
"Is she? How traditional are we talkin' about, here, by Edna's standards?" It seemed that discussing it under the pseudonyms of Herman and Edna made the conversation go smoother. And it was a lot less awkward than curse words flying every ten seconds, as he tried to explain things.
"Well you know, Edna had that one crazy affair where she ran off with the wait staff at a local restaurant and eloped... that didn't turn out too well for her."
Dom kind of wished at that point that she’d bought a coffee or something, so that she had a cup in her hands to fiddle and fidget with while having this kind of discussion.
"Right, so...Edna maybe doesn't want t'elope with Herman, does she.." Oh god, he needed something in his hands too. That was why he took the empty container from her, threw it in the trash,and took hold of her hand. They were just going to walk and talk, so they both didn’t get awkward fidgety. He had also been looking for something to drink, because that stuff was really sweet. "I mean, Herman would actually prefer to...so he doesn't have t'worry quite as long an' he doesn't really like huge affairs. Even so, he'd like t'know wot Edna wants."
She squeezed his hand, "... Well the shock value and the... Edna kind of likes the secret between two people part of an elopement, but I think Edna's been there and done that, and maybe she wants to try meaningful words that make things stick longer... She kind of likes the idea of a cake, too. And wearing something besides a pantsuit..."
"Define pantsuit...an' if it's like a catsuit then Herman might approve. You like thai iced tea? The sweet cold creamy stuff?" He wanted time to processing what she was saying, before he answered.
"I've never had it, but I'm willing to try ... it was suit pants and a shirt with a blazer over it. I looked horrible," she coughed and corrected herself, "Edna looked horrible."
"All right, so no pantsuits." He found a street vendor, ordered two, and paid...but was eyeing her the whole time. "Nothing on you looks horrible. Oh, sorry. I meant Edna."
"You look horrible all o' the time," he added, almost laughing. Then, in a rushed whisper, to let her know, "M'joking. Don'tkillme."
Instead of killing him, she pecked his cheek, "Edna was wearing yellow that day, it was the only nice thing she could find at the last minute. Edna looks horrible in yellow."
"I can't imagine her in yellow. It's so bright." He grinned at the cheek kiss while handing her a very cold, very sweet, very creamy tea in a cup with a straw. He took one sip off his drink, and nodded his approval, like it was good and definitely not crap. "So Edna wants a dress an' a church, right? I mean, Herman's cringing at the church bit, really. But if it's wot Edna wants...."
He was just going to suck on the straw now and widen his eyes, because that thought was vaguely traumatizing. Not the dress, but the church.
"... well Edna isn't sure about the church part. Edna has issues with God."
Her issues with God were many, and to her the ceremony part wasn’t so much about sealing the deal with God watching as it was sealing the deal with unscripted words that meant more than some stupid paper at the County Hall. She sipped at her tea, then grunted happily. It was divine, though not something she could drink every day.
The tea really was pretty good, honestly. But Pete was biased, even despite his other-life issues with Thailand. He liked anything that was Thai food or drink related. True, it helped that he would eat anything, anyway.
"So does Herman. I mean, he doesn't want t'piss off the big guy like any other religion, but...really, it's not Herman's thing," he pointed out. "Actually, Herman doesn't want a large audience at all. Maybe Herman's sister. Hagatha the witch. She can go. Wot he says is b'tween him an' Edna. Who can wear a dress an' bring 'er own guest or two if she wanted, an' if that's WOT she wanted."
She looked down at the sidewalk, "Edna doesn't have many people to invite really."
"Herman doesn't want t'invite even his father, cos his father will probably ruin things. So his sister the witch is...I suppose that's it. Could invite that crazy coworker o' Edna's...maybe he'd be quiet 'nuff t'listen."
By that she was sure he meant Wade. He was one of few friends she had in this town, and any of the rest of them in attendance would just be awkward, "Edna was thinking about that, but she's scared of what he'll show up wearing."
Because with Wade, he could even end up showing up in some pink clearance prom dress from the 80’s and pretend he was a bridesmaid. You just never knew.
"It's only him, Hagatha, Herman, Edna, an' the fecker who's marrying us in a nice place that isn't a church. It doesn't matter as long as Herman cleans his arse up presentable like, an' Edna's wearing wot she really wants t'wear. I mean...marrying them. Them. The hell with this? US. Marrying US. All right?"
Pete sucked down the rest of his tea, in one go.
It seemed a comfortable point to go along with the transition, "We could have steaks afterwards. A steak barbeque. With a fancy cake, just for the hell of it."
Because fancy wedding cakes were sweet and delicious. She eyedarted a bit and sipped at her tea. Clearly her motives were suspect.
"We have a backgarden...yard...wote'er." He knew she wanted the fancy cake, because she's got a sweet tooth. "We could invite a few more people o'er for that. With cow an' cake."
She pondered something, then thought aloud, "What if we did it in England?"
"No yard. I have a flat an' it's got some rats in it. They could show up?"
"Where does Romany live? Another flat, with rats?"
"Easier t'get it done at a register office though. Oh, I don't know? Romany's like...a gypsy. M'not even sure where she lives. But if we want anyone from southern California t'go...we'd probably want t'keep it close an' convenient for them." He was going to have a blunt moment. Right about...now. "Look. You don't need t'worry about me an' London. M'okay with living somewhere else, as long as we're t'gether an' if they want t'keep me on the payroll, then they can transfer me out an' give me a foreign job an' get o'er it. Actually rather content where we are now."
He meant it, too. Even when he stated, "If you want t'retire t'London then, we can do that someday. Option's there."
She smiled, "Alright then."
"I'll have t'hop across the pond periodically t'keep the forces that be happy, but...as long as I deliver some results then...m'sure they'll overlook some things." He smiled back at her. "If I complain I miss it or this or that, m'being an obnoxious arse. It'll pass."
"I guess we'll just keep all those options open. The only strings I have are attached to you, " She shrugged. A similar job could be done anywhere, and the other people she would have stayed in the country for were gone, or could take care of themselves. One of them was attached to Pete anyway.
"Best thing t'do, really. An'...yeah, I feel the same way. We'll jus' find someone capable o' marrying us, an'...you want a long engagement then?"
"Well I wouldn't want to wait a YEAR or anything."
"That's too long. If it was up t'me, I'd do it t'morrow. But I’d still need to ask you. Properly."
"What's the rush, though? We're practically married as it is."
He had his reasons. Several reasons, in fact. He was certain, without a doubt, that he loved her. That was first and foremost, but he needed to give her a valid factual reason as well. One that was good enough to solidify why he thought that way.
It was then that he gave her a good, long looking at, just before he moved in closer and said in a softened tone of voice, " ...cos I very seriously an' completely love you an' we don't exactly 'ave the safest line o' work, the either of us. So I'd like t'know wot it's like t'be married to you, sooner rather than later. That's why."
She couldn’t really argue with that. She opened her mouth to try, then just shut it again. It made perfect sense.
He watched as she was unable to respond, before giving her a lingering yet light and loving kiss.
Dom thought about some kind of middle ground between what it was she wanted and what it is he did, "Maybe we could satisfy both Herman and Edna."
"Tell me wot Edna's considering."
"Elope, then have a real one later."
He blinked, staring at her. It was a nice gesture, but... "...no, I think...I've got a better idea."
"Or... hmm?"
"...I'd like t'see you in a dress." There. He got that much out.
She grinned, "Really?"
"...b’cos you know damn well, m'going t'get up under it, after we're done," he explained, grinning right back at her, like a total asshat. "I want you in fancy everything."
Fancy everything, eh? Her smile widened into a smirk, "Fancy underwear too."
"Right, that too. Knickers, e’erything like that. I want you t’have that. But, this' stuff that we can still get done in some sort o’ short order. As long as you find wot you really want," he was saying, serious now, even if he was also serious about the knickers and things. "So you know it's a special day. I'll get a nice suit an' things. Cut the hair a bit so it's not quite as shaggy an' the likes."
It suddenly felt like they really were going to do this tomorrow, and Dom felt like that was just a bit too soon still. She wanted to get herself clear of the shitstorm, and even if her brother had been evil incarnate hell bent on killing her with her boyfriend’s gun, he’d barely been dead a week yet.
She wanted a bit of time. Not a lot, but a little more time than tomorrow. So just in case, she asked, "... can we maybe wait a month or so though?"
"Yeah. It'd take that long. You know, end o' August or summat. September first's good. Can't forget that."
Because it was the first of the month, and he’d have no excuse to forget their wedding anniversary. Or...little to no excuse. Slightly no....all right, fine, he’s male, he might space it if things like shooty and drinky and stuff happens, and then he can be in the dog house like some guys are, when they forget important dates...due to bastardism. Or something like that.
"Labor day?" Dom laughed.
"Is that wot it is? Feck it, sure, then it's a holiday. We can do it b'fore. Cos...here's wot m'thinking...tell me if you disagree. Or tell me t'shut up an' say wot you want, as well..."
"... well no, go on..." she was curious.
"Ok. So. We each invite one person. For a witness, right? I'll bring Romany cos I have to, she's on my side. You bring one person. Even if it's Cap'n Cardboard or summat. I don't care. So we find someone t'marry us, or we go to some register's office or the likes, have it done there, then we go home....have our cow an' very nice expensive cake. An' then...b'fore the honeymoon? Target practice."
The grin on Pete’s face was diabolical and delighted.
What. Dom looked confused, "Target practice?"
"I mean sure, there's probably not goin' t'be too many people but if Wilson's there, then, yeah...let's have fun shooting targets on our wedding day. Cos you in a dress with a gun? Fucking. Brilliant."
Indeed, his eyes lit up like this was right up there in his man dreams vision of awesome things.
She squinted at him, unsure if he was just messing with her or if he was honestly serious about the idea. The idea sounded far more brilliant to him than it did to her.
Indeed, most verily, it was as brilliant to him as his harem girls story, or the broken bridge driving car blowjob shooty thing that most men have, like a really epic action movie screenplay, in their heads. The wife on their wedding day, with target shooty? FUCKING AWESOME.
Pete stood there with a smile and a gleam in his eyes, which pretty much spoke volumes about his daydreaming about the epic win that would be. He wasn’t moving. At all.
In fact, he smiled more..then reality set back in, causing him to blink and focus back on her face, which didn’t look as amused and delighted, as he was about the idea.
"..right well if you don't like that idea, then someday? You an' I in yer shop. You were the dress, I watch you shoot things, an' m'happy."
Just so they were on same page, Dom stated, "You want to watch me shoot things in my wedding dress."
"Well....yeah." He nodded and looked at her like duh. "Do you realize how hot that is?"
She really didn’t. She snerked, "I guess I don't. But I can arrange that somehow." She finished her tea and eyed him, "Of course this means Herman would have to actually ask Edna if she wanted to, at some point before September first."
She thought it prudent to add, on top of all of that, "... Edna wants to tie some loose ends up so that she's not actually being shot at on her wedding day."
"...well, we could do it sooner. I'd like t'bust me sister's autumn bubble...an'...oh right that'd be 'orrible. Edna should do that. Not too much sooner, like end o' bloody August or the likes. August is good, though. I like August."
She squinted at him, unsure why it was that he was back-peddling to August when they’d already said September, but unwilling to really push him on it, "Let's pencil it in for tentatively August-Septemberish."
"Agreed. As long as I get t'help you take care o' any problems that might involve getting you killed. An' you find the right dress. I'll take you t'London for the honeymoon. How's that?"
"... I like that idea."
"I like it too," he admitted with a grin. Look, now Thailand doesn’t entirely suck!