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Title:
Eloping with Marie
Author:
Terri
Rating:
PG-13
Disclaimer:
Not mine, bummer.
Archive:
Ask, and I shall gladly provide.
Feedback:
Please? Pretty please?
Summary:
Sequel to Partying With Marie. Logan has a little surprise in store.
Comments:
I feel like I should issue a sappiness warning with this one. For some
reason, this series brings out the inexcusably, horribly sappy side of me.
I apologize in advance-and-I'll make up for it in angsting-up the other series,
I swear.
------------------------------------------------------------- I'm the
man in this relationship. That is not in question. I'm the man
so I'm taking the lead. Nothing to worry about there, that's the natural
order of things. Man takes lead, woman follows that lead. Sure,
it's old-fashioned, maybe a little sexist, but it's the primal order of things,
isn't it? Man emerges from cave, woman follows. That's the way
it goes.
And it should
still apply to mutants, right? I mean boy mutant leads, girl mutant
follows. That's how it works there too. So, no reason to worry
about it. None at all. Here we go.
"Marie?
Remember how I said we should go somewhere this Christmas?"
"Yeah.."
"Remember
how you said you wouldn't mind since we spent Thanksgiving here?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I
booked a trip for us. We're leaving in three days."
"Whoa."
She looks surprised, but not pissed. Ever since the Maine sex vacation,
surprise trips haven't been any cause for alarm. "Where are we going?"
"It's a
secret. I mean, a surprise."
"Logan."
That little slip alerted her that something's up. Damn. "What
have you got up your sleeve?"
"Nothin',
darlin', just a little Christmas trip."
"Uh-huh."
Now, that's a downright naughty look. And she should know that's going
to lead to me jumping her.
"Yeah, baby,
just you and me, a little time away, back in time for new year's, it's all
good." She's coming over to me now, ready for some fun. Oh, yeah,
she's following, I can tell. My plan is working.
I knew better
than to consult anyone on this. If Scooter, Jean, even 'Ro knew about
it-well, for one thing, they wouldn't be able to keep it a secret. For
another thing, they'd all want to put their two cents in. For yet another
thing, they'd never agree to doing it this way-in fact, they'd think I was
pretty much a selfish asshole for suggesting it. Not that I really
care what anybody thinks, but I'm not doing it this way just because it's
easier for me.
Hell, it
*isn't* easier. I had to book the flight-a private charter from a private
airfield, so we can get away with no metal detectors. I had to find,
and then rent, a private, secluded residence on the beach, in a little tucked
away corner of the island. I had to find a halfway decent actual minister
in a totally other country who'd marry us despite the fact neither one of
us have set foot in a church as long as we can remember. And then there's
the worst part-something I never, ever would have thought I'd be doing, not
even in my wildest dreams or most vivid nightmares-I had to shop for a wedding
dress. And, not just one wedding dress, oh no, I ended up getting three.
See, I couldn't
exactly keep it a surprise if I asked her to go get one. What was I
going to say? "Oh, Marie, honey? Would you mind picking out a
nice white dress and a big veil for your head? What, baby? Oh,
no reason, I just think you look nice in white." Yeah, right.
I knew I
was going to have a hell of a time. I mean, I couldn't even take anybody
with me to help. And I don't even want to think about some of the looks
I got from the sales people. At first, I tried explaining that it was
a going to be kind of a surprise wedding, but they all looked at me like I
was crazy. Some of them even tried to talk me out of it, acting like
it was some kind of mortal offense against God and man for the groom to pick
out a wedding dress for the bride. So then I came up with this story
that the bride was in another country, and we were getting married as soon
as she got back, and she didn't have friends or family here, but she gave
me instructions and told me to get a dress. OK, OK, so that wasn't
a great story either, but it was better. And the sales people were
a little nicer.
I ended
up not being able to decide what she'd like. I found one right away-the
first store I tried, as a matter of fact. It was off-white, some silk
number with no sleeves and a real low cut back. It looked kind of like
a nightgown, or a slip. I thought she'd look beautiful as anything
in that. But, then I had two other thoughts-it's off white, and what
if she thinks I'm making some kind of comment with that? And-it looks
kind of like lingerie. Classy lingerie, but still. What if she
thinks I'm making some kind of comment with that? It was then that
I began to see how much this shopping thing was truly going to suck.
Well, I
bought that one 'cause even though I had those thoughts, the thought that
she'd look pretty damn good in it stayed with me the most, and I had the brilliant
idea of getting a couple more, so she could pick. Then it wouldn't be
all my choice, she could have some say in it too. After all, it's her
wedding too, you know.
So I found
the second one after about another week of looking. It was white-white
and it was pouffy on the bottom-had lots of netting or something under there.
It was sleeveless, but it had a high back and front-a little more modest if
that's what she wanted. The third one took about another week.
The sales lady was actually real nice to me-she suggested the dress.
It was another white-white one, with a collar and full sleeves-it would cover
a lot of Marie, if that's what she wanted. But it had some kind of
sheer fabric on the sleeves and part of the body, though, so it would show
her off a little too. And it was *really* pouffy on the bottom.
With lots of extra material at the end, like a tail. I was beginning
to wonder just how the hell I was going to fit these things into suitcases.
So, three
dresses. But I only bought one veil. Not technically a veil,
either, really, just a big square piece of white sheer fabric, kind of like
the green sheet we have. I thought she'd like something simple.
I don't think I'm wrong there. And getting that was the easiest part-I
think that some of the sales ladies at the fabric store actually know me
by now. I got a few other odds and ends, and a wedding present for
her, and I put the plan into motion.
"Oh, come
on, not even a little hint?"
"Nope."
She's loving this, I can tell. She hates flying on anything but the
Blackbird, but she hasn't said one thing about it and she's practically jumping
up and down in her seat. And we've already been flying for an hour.
"Not even
about what you packed for me?" She was shocked as hell when I told her
that. 'Yeah, don't worry baby, I got everything you need in these suitcases
right here. No sweat.' Ha. I'm smooth. I'm very smooth.
"Nope."
"Logan..isn't
there anything I can do to convince you?" Oh-oh. That's the sexy
voice. Oh-oh. I could be in trouble here.
"You just
stay over there, darlin'. You're not getting me to fess up until we
get there."
"Logan."
Ouch. The pout. She's fighting dirty. She's deployed the
pout. That's damn hard to resist, with her lower lip hanging out and
everything. Hanging out all red and tasty and-no, no, have to resist.
Must resist the pout.
"Come on,
it's only another hour or so. You can wait. Besides, you're having
fun."
"Yeah, I
am." That big smile-hell, I love that. No wonder I couldn't wait
much longer to get married to this one. She's got my heart, for sure.
"So we have
this whole place to ourselves?"
"Yeah.
Just you and me, about three hundred yards of beach, and eighty degree weather
for the duration. You like the surprise so far, then?"
"I love
it." She's beaming, just beaming. Dancing around the room, playing
with the curtains and looking out on the beach. God, I should whisk
her away every day if it makes her this happy.
"Me too."
"Let's get
unpacked. I'm curious to see what you put in there." Teasing.
Little vixen. "If I had to make a bet, I'd say you just happened to
'forget' underwear for me."
Oh, fuck.
I really did forget underwear for her. Just forgot all about it totally.
Shit. "Um, Marie? Hang on a sec."
"Hmm?"
"I-uh-need
to talk to you about something before you open up those suitcases."
Suitcases with wedding stuff in them.
"Oh, Logan,
I don't really care about the underwear."
Well, that's
good to hear. "No, it's not the underwear. I need to talk to
you about something else."
"OK."
She looks so happy still, and I hope this isn't going to make that change.
"I had an
idea for this trip, something a little different." Her expression's
still happy, good. "I was hoping that you might like to do something
with me."
"I think
that's pretty much guaranteed."
"Hold on
before you agree, baby. Let me tell you what it is." Well, that
got her attention. "I've been thinking, for a long time, about us getting
married. I know you're worried about that, but hear me out. I
think we should, I think it's time."
"So you
took me on this trip to talk me into getting married?" Not pissed.
Not pissed, just trying to figure it out. That could be a good sign.
"Not exactly.
I'm asking you Marie, I'm asking you to get married. To me. On
this trip." She's not saying anything. She's not saying anything.
That's not good. Very not good. I wonder if she-
"Now?"
"Actually
on Saturday. Saturday."
"Hmm."
Thinking, lots and lots of thinking going on in there. Don't know what
to make of that, except that she's taking it seriously. Maybe she's
thinking of a way to tell me no. Maybe she's thinking- "Can I ask you
a question?"
"Sure."
She's-she's moving toward me, that's good, I think. She's kneeling
in front of me, taking my hands, and-
"Actually,
I want to ask you if you can make me a promise. Is that OK?"
"Sure."
Her eyes look so soft, and I don't think she's mad. At least she's
not mad. And I'm pretty sure whatever the hell she's going to ask,
I'll promise. I mean I can promise to love her forever, to be with
her forever, to -
"Would you
promise me that if things go bad-if-if you don't love me anymore or if it
gets too much or too hard for you, would you promise me that you'll leave
me?"
"What?"
"If we're
going to do this-get married-I know we're supposed to promise forever, but
I don't want it that way. I don't want you to promise that. *I*
can, but I don't want you to. I want you to promise to leave if you
stop loving me, or if it gets bad between us. I don't want you to stay forever
if it's like that, Logan, I couldn't take that."
"Marie,
honey, that's never going to happen, it's-"
"Don't say
that." Serious, VERY serious. "You don't know what's going to
happen and neither do I. I don't want it to be that way between us.
If you don't-if you stop wanting to be with me, I want you to go. I
mean it, Logan. I mean it. And you'll have to be the strong one.
You'll have to be the one to do it, because I don't think I could.
I need you to promise me this."
"Marie..I
promise this: I promise that it'll never be bad between us. I
promise that I'll never let that happen, OK? I'll never let us have
a bad relationship, not like that, not ever."
"Even if
it means you have to leave to avoid it?"
"Whatever
it takes. But I'm telling you, it'll never come to that. Never."
"But you
promise?"
"Yeah.
I promise. I do. Will you marry me, then?" She's smiling,
that's good. But she's not answering. Just smiling. "Um,
Marie?"
"I love
you with all my heart and soul and I will most definitely marry you on Saturday."
Whew. That's a load off. Thank God. "But wait a second!
I don't have any-what am I going to wear?"
Ah, here's
where the true nature of my absolute relationship genius is about to make
itself known to her. I'm going to play this cool. Very cool.
"Oh, no worries. I took care of that. There's a selection of
wedding dresses for you to choose from in the suitcases." Now that's
a look of absolute shock if I've ever seen one.
"You got
me a wedding dress?"
"No, I got
you three. I thought you could pick one. You know, to wear during
the wedding."
"Yes, yes,
I'm with you on the concept of wearing it during the wedding, but-you bought-you
*personally* bought me wedding dresses?"
Oh-oh.
She's just not moving on-still in shock. Maybe those sales people were
right, maybe you just don't buy someone else a wedding dress. Even
if you are the one marrying them. "Yeah. Was that-that was a
bad idea, huh?"
"Oh, no,
Logan. That was a brilliant idea. I just-you went out and bought
me-you went out to a *bridal shop* and bought me dresses?" Oh, I see.
It's a good kind of shock. The kind I've seen sometimes just before
she kisses me really, really hard or throws me down on the bed. I could
go for either right now. Actually, I could go for both.
"Yeah, darlin'.
'Cause I wanted it to be a surprise." I have got to be wearing the
biggest, smuggest grin ever right now. I pulled off a pretty good one
here.
"Logan, that's
just-that's just the sweetest thing. You must really, really, REALLY
want to marry me to go through all that. Come here, sugar." Oh
yeah, flirty blush. That's my girl. Time to christen the bed.
Big day.
Wedding day. Got the minister. He brought along a witness-church
janitor. Got my wedding clothes. I just couldn't do the tux.
Marie said she didn't mind-of course she said that when I was making her
very, very happy last night, but I think she really was fine with that.
Nice jeans and nice boots. A nice white shirt. Clean shave, hair
looking good. I think I'm presentable.
Still waiting
on the bride. She wouldn't tell me what she was going to wear, but she
said she'd made her choice, so I know that's not what's holding her up.
I don't think she's having second thoughts. She's been nothing but
excited about this since I told her. She's told me over and over she
wants to do it. It was her idea to do it at sunset, out here on the
beach.
Here-here
she comes. Whew. Finally. She's-oh, God, she looks about
a thousand times better than I've ever seen her look before and that's saying
something. She chose the first dress-the one I picked out and she-that's
all she's wearing, the dress and the veil. That's all. I can
tell from here she's not wearing underwear of any kind, and she's not wearing
any shoes. Her hair-it's a little damp and clingy, exactly how I like
it best. She must have just showered. Now that she's coming closer,
I'm sure of it. She smells like her shower gel and she's not wearing
any makeup. God, you can *really* tell there's no underwear under that
dress from up close.
"Hey darlin'.
You look beautiful."
"So do you."
She's wearing my tags. I wondered if she would. I thought so.
"Ready?"
"Very."
"Ah"
The minister seems a little-hey! He'd better not be looking at her.
He's a man of the cloth for christsakes!
"Grrrrr"
"Ah, yes.
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this woman, Marie, and
this man, Logan, in holy matrimony. Here in the sight of God.."
I hope this is what she wanted. I know she wouldn't have been able
to handle doing this at the mansion. Too many people, too much commotion.
It would have been a huge deal. Huge. Most of all, it wouldn't
really have been *our* day, something for just us.
I'm glad
that she's easier around most people now, I am. And I know there's a
part of her that kind of wanted to have a big wedding with all her friends
around. But when we're there I have to share her with them, and I just..I
know life is short, you know? I want to have as much of mine with her,
just her, as possible. If we'd had the wedding there, well, we couldn't
focus just on one another so much. We'd have to cater to a hell of
a lot of people. This day of all days should just be about us.
".and the
couple has chosen to recite their own vows. Marie, you wanted to read
yours first?"
"Yes."
Turning to face me now. God, this is probably as good, as perfect as
my life is ever going to get. Pay attention, Logan. Pay attention
to this moment. "Logan, you are my life, my protector, my lover, my
best friend, my everything. I promise you today that I will love you
completely, always, and with everything I am. All that I have, is yours.
I trust you with my heart and with my soul. I want more than anything
to make you happy and to be your wife."
"Whoa."
I knew all that was in there, I did. But to hear her say that out loud,
standing here on the beach as the sun goes down, while she's marrying me-she's
actually marrying me with those words, those are her vows, it's just-whoa.
"And Logan,
your vows?"
Shit, mine
aren't nearly that good. Fuck. "Marie, I wish I could make mine
sound nice like yours, darlin', but here goes. I love you really, really
a lot. More than my own life. You're worth more than anything
in the world to me. I'm never going to stop trying to make you happy.
All the time I think-I'm the damn luckiest man alive to have you. You're
good and you're sweet and you're strong and you're smart and you're beautiful
and hot and funny and I really, really love you and I want you to be my wife.
That's how I want to live the rest of our lives, whatever we got, with you
as my wife and me as your husband."
"That was
perfect, sugar." She's starting to cry a little. I knew that would
be coming.
"Very well.
Um, you have decided not to exchange rings, is that correct?"
"Yeah.
We already did that." She's got the tags. I got the ring.
It's all good already. Now that I think about it, we've probably been
married for a while. Just didn't get around to this part until now.
"OK.moving
on, then. Logan, do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?"
"I do.
Hell yeah, I do."
"Uh, OK.
And Marie, do you take this man as your lawful wedded husband?"
"I sure
do."
"Well, then,
by the power vested in me by the holy universal church and by the commonwealth
of St. Sarah's Islands, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss
the bride."
Best part
of the ceremony right here.
"So, um,
Logan?"
"Yeah, baby?"
Still exhausted. Can't really move yet. That was a good one.
So far-married sex, definitely better than single sex.
"I know
this seems a little weird, but, uh, we're going to need a last name."
"Huh?"
"Do you
know your last name?"
"Uh, no.
What about yours?"
"You'd take
my last name?"
"Sure."
I mean, it's not like I'm changing my name or anything, you know, just adding
a last name. Nothing weird or unmanly about that.
"That's
sweet, sugar, but I don't really want to use my last name. Bad memories and
bad luck."
"OK.
I guess we'll have to pick one then."
"Any ideas?"
"Um, hmmm.."
"Well, we
don't have to think of one right away."
"Are you
sure we need one at all? I mean the first name thing has been working
for us so far." Shit, she don't even tell anyone but me her real first
name.
"I know
it might sound stupid or too girlie, but I want us to share a last name.
To make us a family, you know?"
"I love
you, baby. I'm glad you decided to marry me." She's just such
a catch for me, you know? I'm still not exactly sure what makes her
love me of all people, but I'm damn glad she does.
"Me too."
"What about
something simple? Like Smith." I don't want a fancy last name
with a lot of syllables or something.
"Too common."
"I ain't
creative, darlin'."
"Something
that means something to us. Something unique to us."
"I dunno.."
"What do
you think of when you think of us?"
"Good stuff.
Snow. Canada. Your hair, the white streaks." I think of
a lot of sex-related stuff, but that wouldn't really be appropriate for a
last name. I just can't see us as Mr. and Mrs. Oh-Yeah-Baby-Just-Like-That.
"We could
be Mr. and Mrs. White."
"Too boring."
"Hmm.
Well, I think-your tags, the way you smell, how good you look all shirtless
and sweaty, and when you're in uniform. Leather definitely springs
to mind."
"Mr. and
Mrs. Leather would be a little kinky, don't you think?"
"I guess..Wait!
Wait! I've got it!"
"Yeah?"
"Laughlin.
We met in Laughlin City. It's us and it's not boring."
"Yeah..yeah.I
like that, Mrs. Laughlin."
"OK, Mr.
Laughlin. Deal."
We have
to head back today. Sucks.
"I think
that's everything. Come on, sugar, we're going to be late for the plane."
She looks tan-I don't think I've ever seen her tan. I like it.
"Yeah, yeah."
"You don't
want to leave, do you?"
"Not really.
We could stay another week. It's not to late to-"
"Let's go
back. I want to tell everybody we got married." Oh yeah, that'll
be great. All I'm going to hear for the next month or two is complaints
about eloping. Oh well, it was worth it.
"Sure, baby.
Hey-I almost forgot to give you your wedding present!"
"You got
me a present? On top of all this?" She's smiling big now.
She likes presents, especially ones from me. They've historically been
pretty good, and she knows it. Hope this one does the trick.
"Yeah.
Hang on." Need to find it in the suitcase-should be near the top somewhere.
Where the hell did it-oh, there it is. "Here, baby. I hope you
like it." She should. I know she likes diamonds.
"Oh!
It's beautiful! But Logan-we said-we said we weren't going to exchange
rings. I said I'd stick with the tags and you'd stick with your ring."
"Yeah, I
know, but I just thought you should have one. I know how you feel about
wedding rings and all, and you don't have to wear it if you don't want to.
I won't be upset or anything, but I thought you should have one. Look-look
at the inscription." I thought I'd better get it inscribed since she
got mine that way, so they'd match. I couldn't really think of something
good or poetic or anything that was still what I really meant to say to her,
so I settled on Love you,
baby.
"I'm going
to wear it, definitely. Definitely."
"You can
take it off after a while if you want."
"Uh-uh.
No way. It goes on, it stays on, just like the tags. Put it on
me, sugar."
Yeah, she
knows me pretty well. She knows her wearing it is making me smile big.
"Sure."
"Logan-this
was just the most perfect wedding any woman ever had." Little kiss
on my chest. She knows I like those too.
"Well, it
wasn't a storybook wedding, but I'm glad you liked it."
"It was
the wedding I pictured in my storybook." God, I love her. My
wife. I got one hell of a good woman, and I'm never going to let her
go. "Let's go, sugar. Let's go home."
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