Gold

[Nicanora]

4 June 2018

Monday training had come and gone, a brutal flurry of physical activity and mental stress. The good kind, the sort that you grew from. But like always, Nicanora was a sweaty mess by the end of it and in need of nothing more than a cold shower (with beer), and a few hours to decompress. When the shower and accompanying shower beer were complete, she dragged her scantily clad (as much as a tank and shorts could be scanty) ass out of the bathroom into the even cooler open air of the loft apartment. She had precisely thirty minutes until Will would be off and though she could have saved the shower until then, she figured she wouldn't be opposed to another one even so soon. Instead she busied herself in the kitchen, something to sate a growling stomach and replenish her energy stores, and maybe if the paramedic got lucky, there would be something for him too. Maybe. Maaaaaybe.

For the paramedic, the better weather brought a fresh flurry of stupidity amongst the teeming masses of Rhy'din proper, which meant longer shifts and less downtime. Will certainly didn't mind the work, nor the money, but the increased imposition on his personal life had been more than an annoyance that was slowly beginning to upset the tranquility of the life he had managed to forge with Nicanora. She, of course, had mostly taken in in stride and was supportive, but more than a few times it had made their planned outings together akin to two ships passing in the night; him to bed and her to more clandestine activities with Crispin.

On a night like this, he made no apologies for cutting his nightly work wind down short, leaving the bulk of it to Ronny with a harried explanation before he was racing home in the jeep a sweaty mess. It was getting later, but there was a hope that he could salvage the night and let it rolled into a day or two off that would make up for the growing absences. Heavy boots thumped him up the steps into their loft apartment where he tossed his kit bag to the side with a loud chuff of breath.

He was greeted by the spicy simmering smell of paella, thrown together on a whim despite the rather arduous undertaking it proved to be typically. Thankfully, it was something she had made a million times and thus had it down to a science. On bare feet and swaying to music pumped from the tiny little speaker on her phone on the counter, she hummed along and peeked over her shoulder when the door opened. "Oye, you're home early!" The smile said she didn't particularly mind.

"I was gonna take you on a food truck scavenger hunt," he quipped with a wry smile, slipping out of his jacket and tossing it onto the couch, "but it looks like we're eatin' in instead of out tonight." Closing the distance to the scantily clad Spanish beauty, he leaned in to press a kiss to the side of her neck and give her backside a hard squeeze before moving to the refrigerator. A cold bottle of beer was taken off of a shelf and popped open, his gaze lingering on her during that first long swallow. "How was training?"

"I thought you might be tired and honestly, I kinda am too, so I figured I'd cook." She shot back with the rock of a shoulder and a push back of her hips against his grab. The shorts were short enough to give him a little cheek if he was so inclined, not that she cared. She was planning on marrying him, after all. Pushing a spatula through the bubbling mixture, a quick swish of the pan tossed the contents amongst itself before she pulled it from the heat. "Good as always. Cris seems set on breaking the monotony any way he can, so I'm not complaining. And you? How was work?"

"Another night, another person in need. Or two dozen of them." Will grunted and took another long pull from his bottle, trading looks between her and their impending dinner. Both made him eager. "Should have a few days off startin' now, so it'll be nice. The view isn't hurting either."

"It's the right city for that. You'll never want for something to do." She gave him a little smile and passed him to put the pan on a hot plate on the table. Back to the kitchen she went, opening the over to pull free a loaf of garlic butter slathered bread. That wasn't handmade like the paella, mostly because she wasn't about that life. She made sure to bend over too. He said he liked the view. "Then we can do food truck scavenger hunt tomorrow then?"

"The company is good too," he grinned and killed the beer before setting the bottle aside to reach for her. His hands caught her by the hips, fingers taking their time to get a good feel before he pulled her against him. Long arms wound around her toned frame to pull her into a hug, his face buried against her neck so he could breathe her in. "Missed you."

"Of course it is." Beaming. Thankfully she had everything set down when he snagged her and so she went willingly, melding against him with a grin and a pleased sigh. That safe familiarity. It couldn't be beat. "You were only gone eight... nine... uh... ten hours. But obviously you'll have to show me how much you missed me. But after dinner. A maybe a shower."

"There's never enough of you." A gentle kiss touched her jaw before he tipped her face to his for a more thorough one. Long moments later it was broken so he could stare down into her eyes. "This is where I get to be my best self."

"Never? Never ever?" She laughed quietly in the space between them before lifting her chin to meet his mouth. When it finally broke, she was left contented yet wanting more, her arms looped around him and her hips still subtly swaying to the music she had yet to turn off. "I think you're always your best self. And I know at work you're pretty amazing too. Ronnie says so."

"Ronnie's biased," he laughed. "But sometimes right. Tell you what... you training tomorrow?"

"I'm off tomorrow." She said with a smile and a little bob of her brows. "Got something in mind?"

"Original Trilogy tonight." The paramedic gave her another tight squeeze and a chaste kiss to the side of her neck. "Sleepin' in tomorrow. A matinee of Solo, then food truck scavenger hunt."

Gaaaaaaaaaaaasp. Her eyes widened and she instantly lit up, bouncing onto her toes to kiss him again before he diverted to her neck. Chaste, that was almost more teasing than a regular kiss. Wiggling, she nodded and drew back, grabbing for his hand to pull him over to the table. "Deal, deal, deal, and deal. But first, food. Get it while it's hot, then I can set stuff up."

"One of these nights I expect to come home to you in nothing but an apron," he teased, kissing her one more time quickly before allowing her to drag him over to the table. He sat down soon enough and looked for the easiest method to serve himself something up without her having to do it for him. He could only expect so much domestic goddess from his warrior badass wife-to-be, but was smiling up to her fondly. "Just a mini-staycation, you know? Just you and me. We could even look at come wedding stuff if you wanted to. I know that's gotta be a big deal."

"You've come home to me in less." She said with a playful roll of her eyes. Dumping him in a seat, she rounded the table to snag drinks and took a seat herself. In the pan was a spatula that would work for dishing or he could do it Spanish way and just rip some bread off and dunk it like that straight from the pan. "I like it. And I've been itching to see Solo though I don't know how it'll compare to Rogue One. And, I mean... you know, before we go looking at wedding stuff, we should probably... I dunno, figure out when we're doing all of that."

"I know but it would still be hot." There was a show made of leering at her salaciously, which was then transferred to the food before them. It wasn't long before the paramedic was tucking into the meal and heaving an overwhelming sigh of contentment. He grinned across the table at her as they enjoyed a late dinner together. "It'll be good. We'll do to the theater with the reclining seats and nothin' separating us. And, well, clearly you need to be summer bride. I couldn't see you in anything but summer sun or moonlight. So, maybe next year? Ultimately, I don't care when as long as I get to make you mine."

"I'll keep it in mind. Maybe." She teased. Of course it would inevitably end up happening. She was nothing if not indulgent when it came to her fiance. As she filled a plate with her share and tore off a hunk of bread, she sopped up the thick sauce and popped the piece into her mouth. After chewing and swallowing she nodded. "I think that's workable... gives us time to... I dunno. Get used to the idea. And then plan. And maybe convince some people that it's okay. Otherwise it'll be like... me, you, Ronnie, and Crispin and their respective ladies. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but you know."

The was indulgent and his own smile confirmed it, but it was enough to hush him for long moments as he worked through his meal with a voracious appetite. Will had nearly polished off his plate before he spoke again, but was nodding along with her train of thought. "Your dad. Christopher's parents. Nee. I figure you've got a contingent that deserves to be there."

"You know... there might be ways to get back to your Earth..." She said softly, lifting her gaze from her food to meet his with a level look. The expression said she would drop the notion in an instant if he didn't want to consider it, but something like this, she thought, was maybe worth risking.

"They think I'm dead," he told her softly after taking a few moments to digest the suggestion. It had occurred to him before, of course, but it would take a lot of effort and a lot more explaining to even consider it a viable option. "That Earth thinks I'm dead. Nothing supernatural or weird happens there. This... all of this might be more than they could understand..."

"Yes... but..." She chewed at her bottom lip before relenting for the sake of taking another drink. "You know, on my Earth, regular people think nothing supernatural happens there. Mundanes aren't supposed to know, you know. But you're proof that 'normal' is a farce, no offense hermoso. Even still... their relief that you're safe could outweigh the questions."

"Maybe," he replied softly, tearing off a small hunk of bread and stuffing it into his mouth. It gave Will some time to contemplate the notion in silence but had wiped the smile from his face. Eventually he swallowed and turned another look up to her. "I mean, I guess there are ways to spin it so they didn't have to know all of the truth but I don't like the idea of spinnin' a lie to them. It's gonna take some thinking. Figuring out how to do it without it blowing up in my face. It's been a long time since I've seen them and the government finding out could cause problems for them. Maybe. I just... maybe. Yeah, maybe."

It wasn't a subject she really wanted to discuss but they needed to talk about it at some point or another. When he looked up, he found her staring back at him, a soft deferential smile on her face and a portion of bread in hand. "We have time to think about it, talk about, plan, whatever. I just... wanted to throw the idea out, in case you wanted to consider it. There's plenty of time." Plus she still had plenty of her own issues to work out, but that was another barrel of monkeys. "So how about... September... twenty-first? Last day of summer and late September in Spain is... mmm, beautiful."

The paramedic wasn't so much resigned as he was conflicted and it showed in his expression as he nodded along with her response. He soaked up another few moments with more bread before finally speaking again. "We have time. No need to rush anything and it gives us plenty to think about." Because they were an us now, no bones about it. "September's good. It'll still be warm enough and I did really like Spain. We know the wedding food will be rad as ***."

"Still plenty warm, for sure. That time of year's like... twenty-six ish." She caught herself. "Close to eighty." Swiping the bread through a bit of sauce, she popped it into her mouth and got up from her seat. Though she was still chewing, she rounded the table and nudged his chair enough that she could slide side saddle into his lap, one arm looping around his shoulders. "Even if it were just you and I somewhere, it would be perfect. Everything else is just icing on the cake, no?"

Will accepted her with open arms, slipping his own around her slim waist so that he could all but crush her against his chest in a squeeze. His face was buried against her throat, a soft, wry smile pressed into her skin as she sought to reassure him. Nicanora had a way of subtly inspiring. "I'm a lot for most people to swallow on my best days. I've gotten very used to little to no company, though having some friends is nice. But all I need is you, in all the best and worst ways. No matter what, it'll be the best day I could ever have and that's all that's gonna matter."

"Hermoso, you're a lot to swallow in other ways too." That grin was positively devilish as she leaned back to peer down at him. Her free hand came up to catch the underside of his chin, drawing his face up so she could lean down and lightly kiss him on the lips. Short lived, if only because it would have inevitably led to more otherwise, she broke it a few beats later with a softer smile. "The ones that matter will be there, I'm sure of it."

In the spirit of being good, he let her little quip go, greeting the kiss just as gently before smiling. "We could totally do a line of food trucks for the wedding dinner..."

"Would that make you happy?" She asked with a tilt of her head. "It seems fairly suiting for us. Maybe unconventional, but we're unconventional, are we not?"

"I mean," he laughed. "We could have a nice dinner table set up. Silverware in case someone start some ***..." She was given another squeeze before he smiled against her throat again. "We've never been a conventional couple. I think it's what makes out relationship strong. If we tried to be someone else's idea of normal, one of us would have ended up miserable."

"Picnic tables could do the trick. Did you know they make plastic silverware that is shiny like real silverware? It's hilarious." There was that grin again, though less devilish and more amused as all get out. Leaning into his grasp, she sighed softly, albeit contentedly. "What is normal anyways? Even by my peoples' standards, I'm hardly normal. But we're happy. That's what matters."

"I figured something more formal on the table and dinnerware front, maybe a balance to the food trucks so your old man doesn't try to call the whole thing off before the first toast." The soft rush of laughter spilled warm breath against her skin and Will began to rock her slowly in their seat. "I've never been anyone's perception of normal, even before the weird stuff started happenin' to me. And I'll take happy. I'll never regret that night we went swimming in someone else's pool. It changed my life."

"But it's not about him, it's about us." She countered. For all that she loved and respected her father, she already knew he took issue with the engagement and likely would all the way until the ink was dry on... whatever sort of document they used for weddings. A contract maybe? She didn't know. Swaying with his motion, she brushed her fingers through his hair and nodded. "That was a good start to things, wasn't it... and that Christmas party at the station. I really thought you were going to bring me a venus flytrap, you know."

"Tell him that," he snorted a laugh and lifted a comb his fingers through her own hair. "The Christmas party was classic and... well, I mean I'm not a total goofball. Just mostly one. And I really liked you and *** you were hot..."

"I have. And I'll do it again." She said firmly. Though she didn't laugh, she retained her good humor, nuzzling her head into the pass of his hand. "I would've been just fine with a little venus flytrap. But the lily was gorgeous too. I had a lot of fun that night... thinking back on it made me think December could've worked for the wedding too."

"I figured you'd want a warm weather wedding, with you outside in a slinky dress, demure of course, and all that sunshine or moonlight in your hair." Her hair was given a gentle tug. "Personally, I don't care if we're at the courthouse and it's ripped jeans and a tank top. I'm marryin' you either way."

"Winter in Madrid is balmy but not terrible. But you're right, I'm a summer child if ever there was on." A soft groan issued from her lips, a low warning rumble for the distraction he posted. "And really, it's not about the wedding, it's about the marriage. I read that somewhere."

"We're pretty much married now," he told her with a shrug and a smile as he looked up at her. "With careers and domestic bliss and everything. All we're doing is changing it to a specific word. I mean, so long as the sex doesn't dry up, I promise to keep you."

"Are we?" She asked, her grin blooming once more. For some reason the notion tickled her in all the right ways. Different ways, of course, than Will had a way of tickling. But that was a subject for a far more intimate time. "Only reason the sex would dry up is if you get old and impotent. Considering you hit the big three-oh last year, I'd say you've still got... at least five good years left in you." Teasingly.

"We are," he confirmed with a nod, reaching down to pinch her. "And I'll have you know, I'm gonna be a white hot shooter until the day they lay me in the ground, Fanny. So you better keep that sweet ass in shape and keep up."

One good pinch deserved another, her own finding his arm with a laugh. "You better hope they keep making those little blue pills then. And please, when was the last time you saw a fat Shadowhunter? Not even the old ones get fat. I'm pretty sure they don't even make Gear in plus sizes, considering I had to special order my pants because my ass wouldn't fit in standards."

"Well, Cris is kinda fat. Mostly between the ears." His mouth quirked, trying not to grin. "And I wouldn't have your ass any other way. Junk in the trunk is the way to go and Sir Mixalot was a prophet."

"That's... maybe a compliment? I think? But I don't think he's take it as such?" Though he tried not to grin, she let free another laugh and pinched again at his arm. "Tell the Iron Sisters that. You'd think as women, they'd know that not all girls are boards, but noooooo. It's practically unisex."

"I mean, your ass is perfect. Multifunctional. It keeps me entertained for hours, it's a great pillow, a wonderful chew toy, something nice to hold onto..." He was unabashed in his appreciation for her ass and gave her hip a playful pat. "It's beautiful like fine art. I feel like I should... write a sonnet about it."

"Go on, tell me more." She was full on giggling at that point and bowed her head into the crook of his neck to loose more laughter. Her teeth found his skin for a light nip before drawing back to fix him with an appreciative smile. "Write a sonnet or pin it to the wall, like fine art should be." Brow bob.

"The latter happens on a regular basis." He leaned in to rub his nose against hers. "I'm marrying you woman. You know that, right?"

"I had no idea! I just thought this ring on my finger was like one of those Chinese finger traps, you know, the ones you can't get off no matter how hard you try." Scrunching her nose against his.

"You're mine." He kissed her gently. "No taksies-backsies." Will smelled strongly of smoke and antiseptic that close, wrapping his arms around her tightly again. "Finders keepers and there's not a thing in the world that I wouldn't do to keep you."

"I think I'm past the return policy timeframe anyways." Still teasing, she returned the kiss with a series of peck-peck-pecks to his mouth, cheeks, and nose. "Be careful, you never know when the universe might decide to try and test that. The fates are assholes like that."

"Let them test it," he told her with a smile, but his eyes were dangerously earnest. "I've waited my whole like for a sex life this good with just the right level of crazy to make me fall head over heels in love. You were one of the few missing puzzle pieces to fill in my misshapen heart. No one takes that."

"Hey, any crazy here is completely on your side." She countered, snapping her teeth at him. Still, her smile softened and she sank against him with a little nod. "I'm willing to fight for us. No matter what or who or any of it. I wanna make you happy and drive you crazy for the rest of my life, William St. Jude."

"All of my crazy is yours," he told her in a murmur against her neck, a very sobered tone heating her skin. "Whatever it takes, we're gonna make it. You'll put holes in people. I'll patch holes in people. There'll be laughter and food trucks and Mario Kart and wild sex. Churros. There'll be those. I never knew I wanted anything so bad before I met you, Nicanora. You fill in all the empty spots."

"You know, if you patch the holes I make, it sort of defeats the purpose." She teased with a smile, reaching to touch his chin and draw his face up so she could kiss him one more time. "I'm glad we took a chance... a couple of 'em actually. But I'm glad, hermoso, you're a special sort of everything for me. That said. Do you want dessert? I have dessert in the freezer."

"Well, I didn't mean I'd patch the holes of the monsters," he mused wryly. "Just other holes. Needy people holes. I'm like a rolling medical charity, yanno. We did take a chance and I finally got a little good karma in the form of one hot ass Spaniard babe." One kiss turned into two, then a third before he nodded along. "If you wanna get dessert ready, I'm gonna go shower real quick, then we can move things to the couch. Cool?"

"You can fill my holes if you want. I volunteer as tribute." She smirked, cuffing him lightly on the underside of the chin before slowly and tortuously extracting herself from his lap. With a nod and a wink, she sashayed back to the kitchen with a little shooing motion his way. "Go clean up. We'll get dirty after you're done."

"All up them are perfectly fillable." She cuffed, he kissed, and then Will was on his feet to trudge towards the bathroom. He shed his clothes as he went, leaving them in something akin to a pile before disappearing through the door.

[Nicanora]

It was a quick shower, easily less than five minutes before another trip took him into their bedroom. When he finally returned, it was in a pair of light lounge pants and a sleeveless old Avalanche t-shirt, his eyes quick to search her out.

It gave her just enough time to drag evidence of their dinner back to the kitchen before setting up shop on the couch in the living room. Set out on the table was a classy carton of rocky road ice cream, open and bearing two spoons sticking out of it. To one side of the carton, an open jar of maraschino cherries. To the other, a spray can of whipped cream. "I hope you weren't expecting anything fancy."

"If I wanted fancy, I'd put you in somethin' short and slinky and overpay for enough food to feed a single mouse." He kissed her before dropping down onto the couch next to her, slipping an around around her shoulders as he smiled. "Which is nice sometimes, if only to show you off to all the poor men who can't have you. That's pretty ***' fun sometimes. Poor, salivating saps."

"Mmm mouse food." She rubbed her stomach and let out a laugh against his lips before tugging at him to join her on the couch. Once he did, she leaned forward to snag the ice cream, tilting it his way so he could claim a spoon. "You say that like you don't get your share of gawking stares from ladies and gents alike. But I've always know when they're looking at me because you grab my ass more than usual."

"Just need to remind them of what's mine," he teased and grabbed up a spoon, scooping out some ice cream and shoveling it into his mouth. "But some people just needed to be reminded what love looks like, how amazing it is, and how it's found in the oddest places. That and I really just have a thing for public sex with you. I think any man with half a brain would. I need somethin' amazing to brag about." Will winked her way.

"As if I could be anyone else's." She rolled her eyes, setting the carton between them. Mostly because there was no way that cold thing was going to sit on her leg. Reaching out for the whipped cream, she tipped the can to her mouth and sprayed for two seconds before relenting, leaving a smear of white on her bottom lip. "I'm not necessarily complaining. Just saying that I can tell when you're being territorial."

"I might be territorial... sometimes." He made a face at her and then cook the can from her, spraying some of the whipped cream into his mouth. The can joined the carton between them, his free hand toying errantly with her hair as they talked. "But I mean, have you seen your ass? Or, well, all of you. And well, I might be a little insecure, but we don't talk about that because it sounds too unmanly."

"All the time." She gave the can over and followed up with snagging the cherries, letting the jar balance on her leg. Plucking one out, she popped it into her mouth and sucked her fingers clean, arching a brow his way in the process. "What's there to be insecure about?"

"Um, baby, have you looked in the mirror." He nudged her and shoveled down another spoonful of ice cream. "You're a hard, non-negotiable 11. I'm like a weekend 7. 4 is a lot of gap when you've got a girl that looks as good as you. I mean, I know I'm hung like a titan, but you know, I worry."

"I look in the mirror, sure, but it's hard to see my ass... so..." She made a show of looking over her shoulder to try and get a glimpse of the very butt she was sitting on. "But baby, you've got the dual threat. You get looks from women and men. Which it seems like a really large portion of the latter here are gay. So it's not a bad thing if they're staring at you. Plus you're far better than a seven, thank you very much. I'll gladly fight you over it too, that's how confident I am."

"But you fight like a girl," he teased her, shoveling one last spoonful of the rocky road into his mouth before taking the carton and can and putting them back on the coffee table. Will reached for her them, sure he was going to get hit, but still manhandling her in a way that left her draped bodily across his lap so that he could comb his fingers through her long, luxurious hair. "One way or another, I'm a pretty lucky guy."

"Damn straight I fight like a girl. The female is always the more deadly of the species." She said with a lift of her chin before growling when he took the sweets away. No more whipped cream, no more ice cream, no more cherries. Sad Spaniard was sad. But he had his hands on her to drag her over him a moment later, contenting her against her will. "Lucky as hell, but so am I. It works out nicely like that." Reaching over, she snagged the whipped cream and squirted a bit onto her finger before salaciously licking it clean right in front of him. Lucky indeed.

"So, you're sayin' that once I put my seed in you, you're gonna bite my head off?" One sandy blonde brow arched upwards, his mouth twisting. "I mean, okay, if that's how you wanna do, but let me get all three holes in a few shots off at first. Then I could probably die happy." Amused with himself, the paramedic continued to stroke her hair and her back, a gesture that was far more soothing that sexy, but sometimes those moments were the best. The gentle, guileless affection of love. "I am pretty great, aren't I?"

"Yes, that's totally what's going to happen." She deadpanned with a roll of her eyes. "I meant that the females are usually the hunters and have deadlier claws and teeth. Look at lions. The males just lay around and *** when it comes time to make little Simbas. Otherwise the females handle all the hunting and such." Teasingly as she brought the whipped cream up to her lips for a little spurt, intentionally messy. "You're beyond great even if you just went from Mr. Insecure to Mr. Ego in three seconds flat."

"Well," he leaned down and sank his teeth lightly into her shoulder. "If that's the only thing I go that lasts as little as three seconds, I'd say I'm doin' somethin' right. Wouldn't you?" One hand massaged gently at the back of her neck, working at the tense kinks from her long day spent training. "You gonna hear your hair up or down when you become Mrs. St Jude?"

"You do a lot of somethings right, I'll say that." She said, a growl rumbling in her chest as he bit her. That was a tease if ever there was one, he better watch it. His counter massage though was enough to stifle her more carnal desires if only for the moment as she sank against him. "I was thinking half and half. That way there's less to take down at the end of the night but not so much left down during the evening as to be stifling."

"Gonna do a veil?" Both hands began to work on her neck and shoulders, strong fingers kneading hard muscle as they talked. "I mean, I already know what I'm getting and it's pretty gorgeous, so it's not like we need the mystery but I don't know entirely how your traditions work."

"What's a veil for?" She asked earnestly. In trade, Nicanora was only passingly aware of what Mundane wedding ceremonies looked like, leaving her with plenty of gaps in her knowledge. His follow up prompted a diffident little shrug and a glance aside. "It aligns with the Song of Solomon... 'Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death.' There are... uh... runes involved. But we wouldn't do that part. It's usually when you get your family ring back because you trade it for the wedding mark and the love and commitment runes. Your suggenes gives you away to your partner and that's that. Yay tradition." She sounded -so- thrilled.

"Just tell me what you need me to be responsible for and I will." Nails grazed lightly at the back of her neck, a delicate stroke. "I mean, I know you're supposed to wear gold, but do I wear gold too? I mean, I'd look fly as hell in a gold suit. Like a pimp. Maybe get some fishbowl platforms like Huggybear in I'm Gonna Get You, Sucka, a wide brimmed fedora..."

"Maybe I'll find a way for you to wear the runes without actually marking them on you." Since they obviously couldn't Mark him. "The bride wears gold and the groom typically wears black dress Gear marked with gold runes. So, I'm just gonna go ahead and put my foot down and say no fedoras, m'lady."

"But the fishbowl platforms?" He lifted a brow, grinning despite already knowing the answer. "You don't have any stupid rules about not seeing the bride before the wedding, do you? I mean, because I might get nervous and need to let some steam off inside you before the ceremony..."

"I don't even know what those are and I'm not sure I want to know... so we should probably just say no to be safe." She let out a laugh and shook her head. "No... superstitions like that are silly." Coming from a Shadowhunter, that was rich considering their numerous superstitions and beliefs. "But I think I could be mean and make you suffer it out. Anticipation, you know?"

"Are you sure you wanna do that? I mean, I could make up some *** story about my culture needing to consummate the marriage in front of the guests and just pounce on you right there. Okay, probably not, but I will put my foot down and say I'm voting for some sorta churro wedding cake. And no Chicken Dance at the reception the Chicken Dance is dumb as Hell. I'd rather do the Macarena."

"Considering Niamh and I'm sure several others will be there to call you on your ***, I don't think that'll fly." Nica melted a little more beneath his touch and leaned against him with a chuckle. The look she gave him said he was speaking in tongues, but she humored him and offered her version of a compromise. "Churro groom's cake? Is there dancing and such afterwards?"

"Shadowhunters don't have a reception after the ceremony? No party?" His brows lifted.

"I..." She trailed off with a little shrug. "Weddings are more of a utilitarian thing... for the sake of bringing families together, to create a sacred bond between two people. Like the parabatai ceremony it's very... ritualistic. But... a lot of these occur in times of war when there isn't really a lot of time to plan or prepare or really do much but... what is it the mundanes do sometimes... go to the house court?" Courthouse, Nica. Courthouse.

"Courthouse," he grimaced. "Yeah, that's the easiest and expedient way of gettin' married in the Mundane world, yeah. I mean, there's legalities involved with the union, so I guess I'd day the government kinda looks at it like a utilitarian thing. More like an institution than a bond. I'd rather get to the part where there's eternal love and actual feelings. You're definitely not just a union to me."

"Yeah, it's usually like that. Quick and dirty. But mostly because it's more about what comes after the day rather than the day itself. The ritual is important, but only because it sets the tone for the rest of it." A little nod followed. "So... I may need your help figuring out what's... I dunno, I guess normal."

"I'll try to be as Mundane and not Will as I can." He grinned at her and dug his fingers into her spine, working his way down it nice and slow, stopping at her curvaceous rear before working his way back up. "It's just... you know, a ceremony, then dinner and a big party after. I don't think it needs to be too complicated."

"Then why do all the brides get crazy on the reality TV?" She countered with a smirk followed by a shrug. "Like I said, all that matters is what comes after. I mean the marriage, not you. But still. We'll figure it out together. Right?"

"Um... because I'm pretty sure those shows are scripted. That and those girls are all spoiled rich girls. Oh, wait..." He grinned and squirmed beneath her, vainly trying to dodge whatever retribution might be coming his way. "It's gonna be good, Fanny. You're gonna look gorgeous, we're both gonna stand up in front of everyone and share the happiest day ever, and then we're gonna go back to this great life we're buildin'. It'll be good."