Who: Killian & Kenzi (plus appearances by Regina and Garcian) What: A sibling dance of bonding at the Jones Wedding When: Tonight Where: The Jolly Roger Rating/Warnings: Mentions of death, language, Hawke is somewhere being the ass-grabbing fairy Status: Complete!
Sniff. Such a beautiful wedding - and not just because of the fact that one of her utmost favorite people in the world was at the literal center of it. The Jolly Roger was the right venue for the nuptials of Captain Hook and the Evil Queen, right at sea and the backdrop of the sun kissing the ocean horizon made for a photo opportunity that couldn’t be missed. Light came from the paper lanterns, the pillar candles, the constellations above and the almost full silvery moon. It was an intimate ceremony and intimate reception, but nonetheless pleasantly noisy - the bearded mage had brought barrels of ale, wine, and slung drinks left and right as a personal favor for the newly wedded, and there was dancing and flashes of photography (professional, and Kenzi herself brought a polaroid camera to take her own snapshots), laughter and comfort foods to fill the belly.
And boy, was she happy to have been there for it.
Dying was strange - and dreaming of an afterlife was even stranger. Turns out that Valhalla was a realm modeled after a full-service hotel, where her every whim was catered to for dying as a warrior. It wasn’t until that very afterlife that Kenzi almost married. Hale had been there, but she never got the chance to really see him. He had planned a wedding for them, and she’d been ready to stay and Bo had been ready to let them have a happily ever afterlife until her Freya and her daddycakes fucked it all up (because why not also make her afterlife about Bo’s family problems) and she was returned to the realm of the living.
In a coffin, in her wedding dress. It had traveled to Orange County too and was currently stored in her closet. Who knows if she’d ever wear it, but damn, did she look fabulous in it.
Anyway.
After that, she discovered through Dyson that Hale had left her an estate all the way in Spain in her will and deciding that she needed to something human for once, Kenzi had packed up her things and said her goodbyes. It was bittersweet, but it also needed to happen. That very document appeared on her pillow this very morning, and according to Google Maps and all she could research in the brief window she had, looks like it was all legit. But who knew until you got there, right?
“Dibs on the groom!” called out the ballerina-boned thief when he was - finally - free for a dance. Turns out Beardo let his wife take over the drink station while he and her brother groped one another on the designated dance space, and it was her turn. The bride to be was midst the company of her brother-in-law (technically former, but guess they remained close after the demise of her first marriage) and adorably dressed Meara, so it was a good chance to hog her brother. “Move, weirdo.”
Hawke only looked a little offended. A little.
Kenzi swooped in, fashionable in a two-piece turquoise dress - a crop top that showed her flat belly and a flirty bottom skirt, with heels that were inspired by seashells. There was a fedora that completed the look, too. ‘Classy hipster’ was what she called it. “Me gusta the uniform, Bubba. You look so dapper. I can basically sense Liam being a creeper ghost beaming with pride around here.”
The wedding had been beautiful, the reception going beautifully as well - hard to top, really, if you asked Killian. It was perfect from a pirate’s perspective. At night, in the moonlight, the oceanscape was a wonder - the stars looked like a million little pinpoints of light, the black sky a gossamer veil. Out here on the ship, nothing manmade would spoil the view. No smog, no honking horns, nothing. It was simply a gathering of closest friends and family, laughter, the clinking of glasses and the gentle ripple of the sea against the side of the Roger while they were all rejuvenated by the salty breeze and an event that was nothing but a celebration.
“Oh, no doubt he’s here,” Killian chuckled, giving Hawke another bumslap before he went back to man the drinks - or dance with his own wife, that was also certainly allowed. “Watching over us. Drinking all the Guinness he can handle.” The uniform Killian wore was mostly black and gold, everything perfectly pressed and the buttons shined. They’d had photos taken already, his favourite ones involving both kissing and the sparklers - thanks to the wonders of high-tech cameras, they caught one word in loopy sparkles spelled out as fairytale and another simply love.
It was fitting, for the likes of two actual fairytale characters. Villains, yes, but ones who were in love. That was what this night was about.
“Shall we dance?” he asked his sister, offering his arm. There was a string quartet providing music on the deck of the Roger, though they alternated between classical selections and covers of modern songs.
So handsome, aw. Killian was the prettiest groom. “Um, duh, of course,” Kenzi gushed and took his arm for a sway on the dance floor - because this was her brother and she had rights, you know. He didn’t have a mother for the ‘mother-groom’ traditional dance but he had a sister who was more than willing to step in and improvise.
“You’ve got that adorbs wedding glow, the both of you, by the way.” It was a good thing she invested a pretty penny in waterproof makeup, otherwise she would have been looking like a weepy crackwhore. Weddings only had an emotional punch to her when she was invested in the ones getting married, and there was none other than the one who shared half her heart. “How’s it feel to have a Missus Jones now, officially? Probs not that different, but the official paperwork must be nice to look at.”
“Quite good, actually,” Killian said, taking Kenzi for a spin on the makeshift dance floor. Dancing area, more like. “It’s as if everything’s all clicked into place.” He was a husband, he had a wife, they had their daughter with two parents who were together - something that neither Killian or Regina could remember, considering Cora checked out early on in the game (to go on and fuck Neal’s father, apparently, why did that have to be a crossover?) and Brennan was just terrible all around.
He rested his good hand in his sister’s, gloved prosthetic on her waist - they would do a little traditional waltz or something; for a pirate, he had always danced pretty well. The things you learned in the Royal Navy. “You look lovely, by the way,” he added. It was true, and he especially liked the shoes. “Having a good time? Feeling alright?”
She was the one who died recently, after all. He thought it prudent to check in.
Waltz it was, and while it wasn’t a style of dance she had expertise in she followed his lead seamlessly - she was a little dancer at heart, and for a basic white girl she had surprising rhythm. No accidental stomping of feetsies here. “Can’t really complain with being alive, can I?”
Saying she was okay wasn’t the complete truth, but it wasn’t a falsehood either. There were really no words to describe what the hell she was feeling about it all, though she knew in time she’d figure things out on her own. Kenzi had gone off to do something just for herself in these dumb dreams, and she had an aching of doing something similar here. It was time to figure her human life out rather than being a free spirit tugged in different directions going nowhere.
“I actually have some form of a gift for the two of you while you’re in Spain, if you feel like doing me a favor,” she started after a minute. “Hale left me an estate in Barcelona in his will, and that paperwork showed up here. According to what I researched this morning it’s apparently legit, but if you want to maybe take a look for me and see - and if it is? Hell, stay there for your honeymoon.”
He wouldn’t have believed her anyway, if Kenzi said she was ‘okay’ or ‘fine’ or one of those things people said when they were dealing with something traumatic. Killian had tried to be ‘fine’ after being trapped in the Underworld for a month, and that hadn’t worked either. It took awhile before he was actually fine - and even now, he distinctly remembered how it felt to be impaled by Excalibur. Wasn’t something you forgot, ever.
But Kenzi was here, dealing with things, doing what was best for her - she seemed to be on a good track to recovering, so Killian wasn’t about to rock the boat. “‘Course, I’m sure we can squeeze in time for a favour,” he promised. He and Regina’s honeymoon would take place mainly in Andalusia, where they’d enjoy some of the best riding trails along the beach and forests of pine (but still maintaining a mobile phone signal at their villa - they would want to occasionally check on Meara at the Cassidy residence, no doubt). However, he didn’t anticipate a train trek to Barcelona would be much of a hardship - they would have plenty of time to enjoy Spain, and would want to do a lot of sightseeing.
“Are you going to check it out yourself as well, provided that the feedback is good?” It was his way of asking if Kenzi planned to take an extended holiday too - he wouldn’t blame her if she wanted that.
It helped that her death stunt was short and sweet - terrifying nonetheless, but it’d been painless without the surrounding circumstances bleeding over. No gate to Hel, no revenants pouring out, no slow motion strut towards her doom. No vacation to Valhalla either (it was a legit and awesome place, okay, until the end), and no one had to be sent to the realm to come get her. Fitting how she and Killian had similar death scenarios and were returned to life in both their dreams.
Hashtag twinsies, right?
“I think so,” she admitted and decidedly twirled her brother midst dance. It was fabulous, don’t judge. “I mean, it’s a free chunk of land with all the fixings in Europe, how can I not want to go? I could use the time away to clear my head and...figure things out. In a more linear path than being the Jill of all Trades.”
Hey, it wasn’t a bad thing, but even Kenzi realized that she’d hit the point of her life where things needed to feel more concrete. Now that Killian was officially hitched, she thought it might be best that she find her own place too. Somewhere in Orange County still, and duh, she knew she had a room at the Villainy House and even at Birkhoff’s, but.
Right now, she was craving her own space.
“Well, it certainly sounds nice - was it originally Mr. Chocolate Abs’ place?” Killian asked, chuckling a little as he twirled. It was a showman’s sort of move, even executed with a grand bow before moving back in to continue the dance. The photographer probably even got a photo of it, somehow.
And to be quite honest, he could see why she wanted the time away. There was a lot going on here for Kenzi - much had happened as of late. It seemed like she was always caught up in whatever was going on with Bo as well, and he knew they were close friends...but. People could still be friends, even if they happened to be apart for a bit.
“I’ll get some temporary help at JR Investigations for however long you’re gone and honestly, take your time,” he insisted. “I support you in whatever you want to do, Sharkbait.” Even if that included moving out into her own place - he certainly wasn’t going to get sore about it. He loved Kenzi, but he didn’t own her nor did he wish to monopolise all her time.
Unlike in the dreams Kenzi wasn’t planning on staying away - but the estate was a nice refuge to have, something to let friends and family enjoy when she wasn’t occupying it. Maybe one day she’d move there permanently but right now, no, she wanted to stay. “Yep, it was his, so I don’t really know what to expect with the existence of this one - really doubt chocolate abs aren’t included in the package, though.”
Maybe one day she’d meet Hale here, in person, to confirm he was alive and well. But she’d let the dice of destiny decide if that encounter should ever happen.
Her hands moved onto his shoulders for a squeeze. “And hey, it’ll serve as a family vacay spot, y’know? A literal getaway from this hellhole if Trumpface burns this country to the ground, we’ve got a somewhere to go,” she grinned. “But I’ll come back, you know I will. I intend to be around for Meara. My job with my niece isn’t done until she can successfully twerk.”
Twerking, what was that? You’d think Killian would know - it didn’t sound like anything good, and he chuckled. “She loves you,” and that was true, the little starfish absolutely adored her auntie. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to have you around for as long as possible.”
So would he, for that matter. Transitioning into more of a sway where they could chat than a waltz that required concentration, he returned the squeeze in more of a half-hug, his good hand resting on Kenzi’s back. “I’ll let you know if chocolate abs is there at the estate though. I’ll take photos,” he winked. He still felt awful that she had lost the person she cared about and didn’t get a wedding of her own. Hopefully one day, it would happen here in this world - with whomever she was destined to have it happen with.
“Suppose things are changing a bit for you, eh Sharkbait? You never envisioned all this when you first arrived here, I’m sure.”
Auntie adored her little starfish right back. Kenzi had a knack for getting along with kids, it seemed - she and Henry were bros, and she’d taken the role of raising Tamsin throughout her last life (also teaching her sweet baby valkyrie how to properly twerk, a rite of passage for any woman).
“I am a sucker for those,” she sighed so dramatically, in reference to those fabled fudge abs. Noms. “But as for change, dude, I should be telling you that. You went from manwhore to husband and father.” In retrospect, though, things changed a lot for the both of them since coming here - and she never thought she’d end up this close to her long lost sibling that fateful Thanksgiving she showed up at his doorstep with that life changing news.
But she was happy to be present for all this - they didn’t get a chance to have a childhood together and have those memories of being related at a young age. Now she was present for the important milestones of his life, and him hers. That’s what family did. “Baby sis is proud of you, Bubba. You’re a lot to live up to.”
“I’ll tell you a bit of a secret, Sharkbait - the manwhore thing wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be,” Killian grinned crookedly. Kenzi could probably guess, since he was no doubt surly and closed off when he was simply being used for the ol’ pump and dump and nothing more - the Captain craved a genuine connection. As luck would have it, this connection he shared with his bride was both genuine and scorching hot.
He kissed the mini-pirate’s forehead, giving her another twirl. “I’m proud of you too, and I know you’ll continue to make me proud with all that you do.” No glimpse into the future necessary. Kenzi had survived even death so she had the whole rest of her life ahead of her to grab it by the balls and knock out so many things on her bucket list.
The song ended then, and the string quartet launched right into the next one. Killian was about to suggest another dance when the chocolate abs who got teleported into Kenzi’s room to punch a valkyrie in the face for her soul was spotted (all chocolate abs all the time, multiple varieties, the pirate wasn’t going to complain).
“Here, I’m sure she’s bored of her brother now anyway,” Killian noted. “I ought to go grab my wife’s bum so she doesn’t feel left out.” Since he’d grabbed Hawke’s enough at this blessed event.
Garcian didn’t want to interrupt, but weddings were a foreign country - so maybe dancing would help him not look like an outsider. “I guess that’s what married people do, right?” Grab each other’s asses?
Oh, Regina wouldn’t dare question whatever relationship her husband (it felt good to call him that now, really good) and the mage had - she had chatted up with Isabela a bit, laughing at the men at their own expense, but she was ready to go ahead and canoodle with the man of the night. “I heard that,” chuckled the queen, glamorous in an unconventional bridal gown that looked like it was woven by stars and silvery smoke. Classy with a hint of regal naughtiness. “I’ll take him for the rest of the night, and promise to not be all that gentle.”
Alright, yes, she was a bit tipsy but the Cassidy Clan volunteered to watch Meara while the two of them were able to be happily intoxicated over their day of union. Leave her be.
“Yep, glad you two will be elsewhere to consummate your marriage because I ain’t gonna wanna hear that all night.” Kenzi shook her head left and right quickly, shushing the newly weds along to do their own waltz on the dance floor while she effortlessly paired up with Mr. Smith here. He’d been a last minute addition to the guest list - and she was happy to see he actually showed. “And trust me, they’ll be doing more than just grabbing as if they keep guzzling drinks down. I’ll make sure to cover your virgin eyes, Garcie.”
Kenzi made sure to twirl him, too. It was a wedding night - celebration was in the air, and if he wasn’t sure how to go about it, then she’d teach him.
Well, no, Garcian wasn’t much of a twirler - but it made for an amusing spectacle, since Kenzi was so much shorter than he was. Even if she looked to be closing the distance in those shoes of hers.
“They seem happy, that’s nice to see,” he said (at least he could recall a few dance moves from high school, where it wasn’t too difficult to move in a box or a circle). And Kenzi looked happy for them; he’d been observing in his quiet and mellow way to make sure it was fine if he came over. He assumed she was here with her boyfriend but since he just saw Killian near where she was, in the midst of dancing people, he figured it was okay to approach. “Can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a wedding. Does it feel different for you, having official in-laws?”
Kenzi had been hopping around anyway, being the social butterfly she was - it was so rare a lot of people she knew were packed in this close, so of course she wouldn’t be sticking just to one person the entire night. Everybody got dances. Even her little starfish, who she held up by her hands (she was beginning to stand a little, oh fuck!).
“Mmm, sort of? I’ve never had much of an official anything - or really cared to have much of an official anything until moving here,” she told him, forearms resting on his shoulders while her fingers were loosely locked behind his neck. “But it’s a nice, sappy feeling to see people you care about celebrate how much they love another person. It’s also the booze talking a little bit, juuuuust a little bit.”
“Never had much of an official anything myself, so I get that.” They had that in common - and hell, Garcian wasn’t even an official name. Not his real one, anyway. He hadn’t gone by Emir in ages and he didn’t want to remember what it was like being Emir. It was a type of pain that he knew he hadn’t dealt with fully, in the right way, and he wasn’t sure if he could confront all that unresolved trauma and still come out clean on the other side. Plus, he didn’t particularly want to do it alone either, and alone was all he’d been.
He rested his hands on Kenzi’s back, fingers laced in the lower portion (though chill out, he wasn’t about to partake in the ass-grabbing going on around here). “Booze makes talking about sappy shit all the better,” he chuckled. “Do you think you’ll be next, with a wedding?” Just a question, since he didn’t know if that was on the table - definitely didn’t know she already had the dress too, but hey.
“Ffffffffffft, haaaaah,” Kenzi huffed out, oh so amused. Just because she almost tied the knot in the afterlife didn’t mean she was ready to do it here - and honestly, she wasn’t all that convinced she was ready to do it there, either. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Hale, and it wasn’t that she couldn’t see a life with him. She had been planning to say yes when she felt ready, but that chance was robbed from here and then there was regret and all that bullshit, knowing that he’d died without a definite answer to his proposal.
Life was a little less dramatic in that department here. “I almost got married in my afterlife but I wasn’t done with living life, so I was able to come back to life after a series of bullshit - and that’s kinda where I’m at now? I gotta figure stuff out for myself first before I take the plunge. Get my own place, figure out if I want a career or not.”
Maybe get her PI license? Finish her school credentials, maybe look into a cosmetology school. There was a lot of stuff to ponder, the rest of her life laid out uncertain - and coming back from the dead made her realize she wanted to figure out the normal, human part of being alive. “I mean, not long ago I was making toe jam for perverts and selling used panties online. My shit still needs to get together first. So let me know if you see any ‘for rent’ signs in your area, Garcie.”
Say whaaaaat? Garcian blinked a bit, genuinely surprised. His brain sort of shorted out at ‘making toejam’ and ‘selling used panties.’ “Damn, girl,” he laughed then - genuinely, a throaty and hearty sound that came from the center of his chest. “And I thought I saw weird-ass things in my line of work.”
But whatever Kenzi decided to do, he was sure she’d be great at it. There were a lot of options - and it was extra great to even have those options too. “You lookin’ for a place of your own?” The building he personally lived in was fine and all - nothing luxurious, but it was a place to lay his head at night. Kenzi probably wanted something more her style, something unique. “I live in Irvine,” he said. “Pretty sure I saw something with an apartment above a bakery near one of the school campuses - good thing is, the smells would be amazing. But they might open at the asscrack of dawn.”
“It was a good business, too,” Kenzi pouted. Then Killian urged her to get out of it, because he got squeamish knowing his baby sister was doing that sort of thing for a living - but she had more options now. Back then it was street livin’, street hustlin’. The idea of normal work was kinda boring, but she figured it might be time for that phase in her life. “Might have to look into that, though. You’ll have to come over for some zombie hooker shooting.”
Maybe she’d be close enough in case he had an emergency. Garcian’s resurrection skill was handy, but she wondered if it ever came with a price later. “Something tells me you could use a little more fun in your life. You’re kinda gloomy, dude, no offense.”
“I’ll get you the info about it - the building looked nice, when I drove by.” How could Garcian turn down zombie hooker shooting? He actually wasn’t bad at it, though practice made perfect. And he wouldn’t mind doing some more of that. Because he did have a need for more fun in his life.
Maybe. Or actually, no maybe about it. If he lived in denial, that wouldn’t help anything.
This time, he twirled Kenzi - mostly just to see if he could surprise her, but she’d probably anticipate the move and do a spin in her pretty princess dress. “Kinda gloomy?” he smirked. “Probably typical for someone who cleans up crime scenes. But as long as it don’t bother you, I’ll come over to your new place and shoot some zombie hookers and maybe shelve some of the gloom.”
Surprise! Kenzi didn’t expect it, but she was able to go with it seamlessly. Garcian could actually dance. That was good to know, and her skirt billowed (without showing the goods, thankfully, oops) with the spin before her hands found him again. “I’ll hold you to it, Garcie,” smirked the mini-pirate. “The dancing’s making me wanna get drinks and cake - in that order. Part of the wedding traditions, you know. The drinking and feasting. Wanna give it a go?”
Drinking and feasting. Yeah, hell, why not? That was what you did at a wedding, right? Besides cry. But Garcian wasn’t really about that last part.
“Sounds good,” he nodded. “Please tell me there’s...pirate grog.” He thought he saw some at the makeshift bar, being doled out by the bearded guy. But either way, he was fine with whatever guests were happily partaking in. It was all about the company anyway.