Wedding Mouse, 6 of 7
#19 of The world of the Spirit of '67
//:City of San Iadras, Downtown. "Is my tie straight?" someone asked, looking down. Troy paused a second, before reaching across and pulling it straight. "There you go Sydney." "Where'd I put my pin..." He fumbled through his pockets before finding it. Troy helped pin the distinctive curves of the opera house to Sydney's lapel. "Thanks." Troy smiled, got one in return. Monaco leaned in, the gold dice on his lapel gleaming in the light. His eyes were bloodshot. "Media's outside. Does Saigon know?" "I'll go and tell him," Sydney said, straightening out his tie again, getting it all mussed up. Troy sighed and shook his head, glancing back along the room. Dakar and Orleans were tying each other's ties simultaneously, reaching around each other awkwardly. Dallas was glancing down at his shoes unhappily while just behind him Florence was polishing his own pair. A little further down Philadelphia was helping Turin tuck in the back of his shirt while Turin unknotted Boston's shoes, Boston sitting on the changing bench with his hands over his eyes, just trying to breathe. Troy smiled a little. Monaco leaned against the doorframe. "Nice to have family," he said. "Sometimes it is," Troy agreed. "Jennifer's outside," he said. Troy swallowed down a little acid. "Mm?" "She's looking for you. Said she'd be with the bride's party." He nodded back at the corridor. "Go on. I'll hold down the fort." Troy nodded a little, even as Oslo just noticed that his socks weren't matching. Monaco sighed. Troy shoved his hands into his pockets while he moved down the corridor, past the bright signs that read 'cloakrooms', past the sign pointing the way to the chapel. His steps sprung a little as he went down the steps outside, crossed the courtyard. He ignored the flash of cameras, the buzz of a couple of drones. No one had asked them to show up, they just had. That was the news for you, still poking into the brothers' lives when something of human interest would be going on. At least it was only a dozen or so of them. "Mr. Salcedo, how does it feel to be getting married?" "Mr. Salcedo, Mr. Salcedo, what does this say about relations between furs and humans? Do you forgive them?" Troy glanced back at the city courthouse. Pointed that way. "Wrong mouse," he called to the journalists, held back on the sidewalks by three glorious lines in a court order issued after the fiasco at York's funeral. "Nagoya!" "Sydney!" "Won't you comment?" Troy shrugged a little and continued on, stepping down the courtyard stairway to the courthouse's parking lot. The buzz of the lights drowned out the media men. A girl in a white dress went by, not Anne, one of her friends. "Hey Dakar," she offered in a friendly way on passing. Troy offered a smile anyway. He'd forgotten his lapel pin at Jennifer's. It had felt like a stupid mistake, but it was kinda fun to be mixed up with his brothers once in awhile. "Hey Troy," Jennifer said, smiling from beside the body modification service's van. "Now how'd you do that?" Troy asked, moving up to lean against the van's side and smile at her. She edged close, smiled up at him. Put her lips by his ear and whispered, "can still smell myself on you from this morning." For good measure, she lapped at the side of his face. He shivered a little. "Well, uh," he tugged at his collar. She caught her lip between her teeth, grinning at him. He dry swallowed, watching the way her eyes danced over him. Liked it. "How's Anne?" "She's an old hand," Jennifer replied with a flap of the hand. "Saigon?" "His ears are a little sore, but he was set on it." "You're not worried?" Jennifer lay her hands gently on Troy's chest. "Weddings can take awhile." "Not this one." The courthouse's chapel was quiet. A line of thirteen black furred mice in suits and ties, standing attentively to the groom's left. The bride's boots creaked as she walked along, the white plastic squeaking a little with each step as she resolutely moved down the aisle, a couple of friends trailing her. The officiator cleared his throat uncomfortably when she reached the podium. "Well. We're gathered here today to witness the marriage of Saigon Salcedo and Anne Treyer." The guests were silent, the whole single row of them, though Troy caught Jennifer winking at him. "Well. It's not often that one finds love, less often that-" Saigon cleared his throat. Loudly. The officiator blinked. Saigon slid a sheet of smart paper onto the podium. "Uh, this is?" "Our licence. And, uh." He nodded to Anne, who produced a similar sheet from the band of her miniskirt, unfolding it and laying it flat with a pleasant smile. "And the other paper work." "Mm." The officiator blinked down at the two sheets, tapping to scroll through them. "Identification?" Anne caught Saigon's eye and lifted her veil partway, just enough to tug up her lip. The dye on her gums was fresh, not bleeding much. Saigon smiled for a second, tugged up his own, displaying the numbers etched into his mouth. "Iris prints would have been sufficient." The officiator blinked, tapping it all into his palm console. "Now then. Are you exchanging rings?" "Mhmm," Saigon replied. "Alright then. Saigon Salcedo, do you take Anne Treyer as lawfully wedded wife?" He nodded quickly. "And do you, Anne Tre-" "Yup," she grinned, sticking her tongue into her cheek beneath the veil, licking at her gums. "Well then, uh, you may exchange rings." Troy reached into his jacket pocket, along with the rest of his brothers, producing the ring case. It was marked one of thirteen. He tossed it down the row, Denver caught it with a grin and held it out. "With this ring," Saigon said officiously, "I thee wed." Anne pushed back her veil and grinned, leaning forward and offering out her ear. He carefully put it through one of the fresh piercings. "And with this ring, I thee wed," she smiled, taking the second from him and slipping it into his ear. The third, the fourth, all the way down to the last and thirteenth. "And with this ring, I, uh," Saigon hesitated, looking across her ears, now sparkling with jewellery. He couldn't find another piercing. Anne leaned forward, whispered something. His ears went red, and he pocketed the last case. "Later, then." Patted the pocket lightly. She smirked devilishly. They turned to face the officiator again, who was simply standing there with one eyebrow raised uncomfortably. "Is that it?" Anne asked, just a little sharply. The officiator glanced down, shuffled the two smart sheets. "With the power invested in me by Tri-Corp article six hundred and twelve, civil liberties journal, I pronounce you mouse and wife." There was a wheezing laugh from the row of guests, old Fred, happy and glassy eyed, shaking his head as if he'd just heard the greatest joke in the world. The officiator blinked, crushed his eyes shut. Cleared his throat. "Man and wife." "Mouse works," Anne grinned. Troy leaned around the chapel doors, shoes crunching on rice grains, watching the car pull out. The automated driver halted every few feet, photographers and camera drones snapping at the mirrored windows. It took a little while, but pretty soon they were going, and 'Just Married', smeared over the windows with soap, would probably appear in the furry interest newsfeeds in a couple of minutes. Jennifer's chin settled onto his shoulder, and she slipped her arms around him, lacing her hands together over his chest. "Cute couple," she said. "All of what, five minutes?" Troy glanced back, smiled at her. "That's my brother Saigon." Dallas strolled along with Nadine, the grey femme picking through the bouquet she'd caught with a wicked gleam to her eye. Jennifer sighed happily against his back. "Cat and a mouse. Weird." "Think they'll make it?" "I'm pretty sure they will," Jennifer replied. "They're a cute couple too." Troy leaned his head against hers. "What about us?" "Oh, we're very cute." "I meant the other thing." "I think so. But lemme catch a bouquet sometime and maybe we'll find out for sure." Troy flicked his eyes open, glanced at her sidelong. "Is that an offer?" Jennifer smiled to herself and snuggled in against his back. "Maybe." She grinned a little. "But lets not think about that for now." Troy tilted his head a little. "Okay," he offered, kissed the side of her muzzle softly. "If you want to talk to me about honeymoons, though," she whispered in his ear, "we can think about one of those." "Well I am in town a little longer, the court thing..." He bit his lip. She wound her hand between the buttons of his shirt, scratched his chest. "I think I've got some days off I can take." "Wanna experiment?"