Chapter Eight: You're My Sweetheart
"Let me guess: your biological clock's ticking?" Rollo blurted out. He cringed, not knowing why he had said that. (Of course, he knew why he had thought it. It couldn't be a coincidence that the proposal came right on the heels of her brother's birth.) Petrified that he might have blown his chance, he hurried on. "I mean, YES! Let's get married."
Jamie frowned and folded her arms. Her boyfriend's initial reaction hurt, but the worst part was that he wasn't entirely wrong.
"Okay, if you must know, yeah, I would like to have kids someday. Or a kid…" She hadn't realized before today that she did want to be a mother. But after seeing Peter Junior… long-forgotten childhood memories of playing House came back to her.
She had focused for so long on protecting the city that she had sublimated her personal dreams. And now that her father had (semi)reformed, semi-salvaging the family name, and since the Fleming lineage was apparently going to continue with or without her help… She realized that she wanted to leave a legacy outside of cyberspace. But first she had to make one thing clear.
"That's not the only reason that I'm proposing to you, Rollo. We've been dating exclusively for almost four years. We're living together and—"
"And?" Rollo prompted her.
"And we love each other," Jamie tilted her chin up. "It's not that I just want to have kids, Rollo. Hell, if that was it, I'd adopt one. I want to be with you, to start a family with you. Do you want that, too?"
"Nothing would make me happier," Rollo smiled. "Hey! You know what this means? You'll finally have to introduce me to your father."
Jamie spent the next several minutes debating the merits of eloping. In the end, she decided against it. Other parts of her fantasy had changed, but she still wanted her father to be there to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day.
~PF~
Chess thought of no fewer than four jokes based on Rollo's height. However, in accordance with his vow not to resurface until Junior was at least three years old, he kept them to himself.
The meeting with Peter went something like this:
"I understand that you know I'm Chess."
"Yep," Rollo shrugged.
"You don't seem that intimidated."
"If I could take down Scales, I think I can handle you."
"That's what's giving you confidence? You do know that Raoul is rotting away in the penitentiary on Owl Island?"
"Dad," Jamie interjected, "enough with the shovel speech! I'm a big girl; I can take care of myself."
Peter raised an eyebrow and coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "Lich."
"That doesn't count," Jamie frowned. "And, anyway, Rollo helped Vince save me." That earned the carnie Peter's respect.
"So, where are you two going for your honeymoon?" Peter asked.
"We were thinking Silicon Valley," Orwell teased.
"Actually, we agreed on Paris," Rollo answered him.
~JF~
Deveraux, having just finished feeding Pete, smirked at the blogger.
"It's funny, because I distinctly remember you telling me not that long ago that you had 'no plans for settling down with a husband and making babies.' Something about you being 'too young;' wherever did that attitude go?" the shape shifter inquired, nodding towards the engagement ring on her descendant's finger.
"In the first instance, just because I'm engaged doesn't mean I'm going to start having kids right away—or that I'll start popping them out one after another like you claimed you did."
"I don't think I phrased it that way," Deveraux frowned. "And that doesn't explain your change of heart."
"What can I say? Insanity must run in the family." There had been a time when she would not have been able to say those words in jest, but she was no longer so insecure about her mental stability.
~MM~
"You wanted to see me, Max?" Rollo asked, closing the door of Max's trailer behind him. He approached his friend's desk.
"Yes, I did. What is this I hear about Vincent being your best man?" Malini demanded. "It's not like he asked you to be the best man at his wedding."
"He was stoned out of his mind at his wedding! It was lucky he remembered his own name, let alone mine," Rollo pointed out. He was confident that if Vince hadn't eloped, he would have asked him to be the best man.
"Regardless, what about me? I don't know if it occurred to you, but we go back a long time. Vincent didn't come into the picture until after we set up in Palm City," Max pointed out.
"Max, I'm sorry if I insulted you—"
~ER~
"You can tell me the truth, I won't feel insulted. I wasn't your first pick for maid of honor, was I?" Raia asked. The two had become friends over the years (a friendship that grew stronger after they both realized Vince was off the market), but the aerialist suspected the blogger had closer friends.
"Well, no," Orwell admitted. "I asked Gaylord, but he insisted that a guy couldn't be a maid of honor."
"That's so not true!" the blonde protested. "Remember that movie, the one where he's secretly in love with the bride? What was it called?"
"I know, I mentioned it to him, but he wasn't convinced by Made of Honor. Go figure," the brunette shrugged. "So will you do it?"
"On one condition: I get to pick the color of my dress."
"…Fine, but I still have the final say on the style."
"Deal," Raia extended her hand.
~JF~
"Unless you're going to put off the wedding for a few years, you can't use your brother as the ring-bearer," Peter stated. Dark circles had formed under his eyes—"the joys of having a newborn," her father had said when she'd stared.
"Well, we actually don't want to drag the engagement out that long—"
"Then you'll have to think of someone else. Unless you want Pete to put the rings in his mouth and choke on them," he drawled.
"Of course she doesn't," Vince walked into the living area, the baby safe in his arms. (Mercifully, Pete was asleep, giving his little lungs a well-deserved break.) There were the hints of bags under Faraday's eyes, too, but the change wasn't as noticeable. Jamie figured that, as Palm City's vigilante, he probably hadn't gotten much sleep to begin with.
"You should let me handle the rings," Vince continued in a soft voice, to avoid waking his younger son. "I'm pretty sure it should be part of my duties as best man."
"I thought you'd decided to share that title with Max," Jamie replied.
"Rollo offered to make him a second best man and he said 'no, forget it.' I think," Vince gazed at the infant as he spoke, "he's up to something. Maybe he's planning on robbing the guests at the reception."
"No," Orwell began. "Max wouldn't—" she stopped, closed her mouth and thought about it.
"I know. Max means the world to me; I owe him my life—"
That got a sharp look from Peter, who had never been told about the time Vince had been kidnapped by Scales. The billionaire made a mental note to get the full story later. (When he did, he was far from pleased, but Vince convinced him not to have Scales killed in his cell.)
"—but we are talking about the leader of the Carnival of Crime," he went on. "Maybe I can stash the cape in my tux…"
"Is it too much to want my wedding to go off without a hitch?" Jamie groaned.*
"It should be a simple matter of figuring out how to keep Malini quiet," Peter declared. (Really, if anything was going to break Chess' vow of silence, he thought that would've been it. Yet there wasn't a peep from the maniac.)
"We're not going to threaten our friend," Vince responded.
"He doesn't mean threatening," Jamie interpreted for her father, "or not necessarily, anyway. Dad knows there are other ways to manipulate people… Oh, I think I have an idea!"
~JF~
The wedding was held at one of Fleming's resorts. (Churches had been ruled out for fear of triggering a flashback for Orwell. Similarly, much as she had liked the dress in her toxin-induced hallucination, she wanted to be sure her real dress didn't resemble it too closely. And so on and so forth, though at least the blogger didn't feel the need to slice herself open to prove she wasn't dreaming.)
In the end, it was a fairly small affair. Gaylord attended, wearing a tux along with his trademark dyed dreadlocks. So did Deveraux, who was charged with watching over the littlest Fleming for the day. Sitting near the shape shifter were Dana, Jack, Trip, and young Elaine.
Raia, as maid of honor, proceeded down the aisle in an ice blue dress that the bride had consented to. Thankfully, it wasn't hideous. Jamie's only stipulation was that it couldn't be as magnificent as her dress.
The band (sans violins) struck up "Here Comes the Bride," as Peter walked his daughter** down the aisle, towards the groom and the best man and Max.
The blogger had proposed that Max perform the ceremony. After all, it was easy to become certified as an officiant online and she figured this would smooth over any hurt feelings he had for not being chosen as the best man.
She'd figured right. Max, ever the performer, enjoyed having all eyes on him (and the couple).
"Good friends, acquaintances and people I could care less about," Max saw no reason to call the assembled 'dearly beloved' (the bar wasn't even open yet); "we are here today to witness the wedding of this man and this woman…"
"…If anyone wants to object, let him speak now or forever keep his mouth shut…"
Wisely, no one spoke up, although the bride's eight-month-old brother let out a wail, before Rebecca shushed him.
"Do you Jamie Fleming, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold for richer or poorer—in your case, probably richer—in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, through arrests and arraignments—"
"Max," Rollo groaned.
"—for as long as you both shall live?" Max finished.
"I do," Jamie smiled.
"I thought you'd say that. And do you, Jarl Rollo…"
"Jarl?" Vince mouthed. It was the first time he'd ever heard his best friend's first name. Others had equally astonished looks on their faces.◊ The groom stared them down, daring anyone to say anything about his name, ever.
"…take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, blah, blah, blah, you know the deal, yes or no?"
"I do," Rollo replied.
"Good; Vincent, do you still have the rings?"
The couple had seen the logic in dispensing with a separate ring bearer, and relied on Vince to see to the bands. Vince refrained from rolling his eyes as he handed them over.
"…By the power invested in me by the State of Franklin and The Monastery Dot Org, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride!" Max boomed.
The audience cheered as Jamie bent down to kiss her husband.
Footnotes:
*Apparently, it wasn't.
**For obvious reasons, she was wearing flat shoes.
◊Except for Anarchy, a.k.a. Gaylord, who wasn't in any position to make fun of other people's names.
Author's Note: Gaylord/Anarchy is, of course, IronAmerica's OC. Hope it's okay that I borrowed him.
Thanks again to Orwell and IronAmerica for reviewing!
The chapter title is from The Lumineers' "Ho Hey."
Since Rollo apparently was never given a first name, I named him after the first Duke of Normandy, whom I suspect was his namesake in the first place. The Monastery Dot Org is a real website, though I am not endorsing it.