Wine and Song
by K. D. Lalonde
Time Period: June 22, 2008
Perspective: Bridger / Saint / Hugo
Rating: PG-13
Content Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Foul Language, Romance
Word Count: 19,332
Comments: From strangers tasked to kill one another, to rivals, to bandmates, to lovers, to significant others, and now, to spouses. A backyard wedding with minimal guests, officiated by the last member of Psychic Assault.
Saint and AMP were leaning against a tree in Saint’s back yard, smoking. Saint wore a black on black dress shirt, tie, and slacks, something formal but not too dramatic. AMP’s suit was something Middle Eastern, a gray sherwani jacket with buttons all the way down and a short, gold collar. Something more muted than their usual attire, but they were to officiate, so for once they didn’t want to draw attention from the typically stealthy couple. The decorations were just so - seats for the few invited guests, large enough canopy to encompass the space - mostly to appease Bridger’s concern for prying eyes. Guests were mingling - Hugo Strahan, Gangrel Primogen, Oliver Grayson, Brujah Primogen and Saint’s Sire, and Tarheel Nell herself, Cornelia Stuyvesant Vanderbilt, Asheville’s Toreador Prince. It took a lot of doing for Bridger to be comfortable with this many people. Originally it was just going to be AMP to officiate. But they couldn’t not tell their dad, and it wouldn’t have been fair to not let Saint do the same. And then of course Vanderbilt and her damned intuition for social gatherings, she inquired, and in exchange for her invitation, she was to keep anyone else from sticking their noses in this particular business.
AMP had a guitar around their back on a strap, and once they were done with their ciggy, they patted Saint on the shoulder. “Big moment - you ready?”
“I mean, yeah, of course I am, I’m just surprised the damn cat is actually comfortable with all of this. You sure it’s not too much for them? They haven’t, I don’t know, run up a tree somewhere? Planning on fighting me instead of marrying me? Something?”
“No, it’s gonna be fine, though, I’ll give you a minute before I even start the music.”
“Why?” Saint asked with no small amount of concern.
“You’ll see.” AMP smiled at Saint, gave them a light hug, then headed over to Prince Vanderbilt, Hugo and Oliver.
I’ll see? AMP! YOU REALIZE THAT’S NOT REASSURING! Saint had a nervous chuckle. Hell, I’m even Thinking like how Bridger Talks. Yeah, this has needed to happen for a long, long time. People look happy to be here, in our wooded back yard. Not unassisted by the Special Reserve Blood Wine Vanderbilt so graciously donated. Fuck, I just need my Bridger to be okay when they see all this. I’m so nervous for them.
The back door opened, and in a white tuxedo jacket, with black lapels and tie, black half mask, and black slacks, Bridger exited the house. Their expression was unreadable. Their usual resting scowl mostly obfuscated their nerves and slight discomfort they were getting over. Their eyes darted to the decorations and the people, and then to Saint, and their reservations melted away. Saint however, blurred over to them with Celerity. "Bridger, what the fuck, I didn't realize we were dressing up! You look…"
"I know, I look ridiculous, but you own a suit, you look good in a suit, I didn't want to look like a bum next to you if you wanted... I don't know, something normal like photos. People do that, right?"
"Yes people do that, lemme go change and I guess we can do this for real. But for the record, you don’t look ridiculous, you look beautiful.” Saint had a huge smile, and fought back tears.
Bridger blushed, their eyebrows furrowed and they balled one of their hands into a fist. Before striking, they loosened it and rested it on Saint’s side. “Hey! Not in front of them. Come on. Say I look good and end it there. This is already a lot, but I’m comfortable enough without you saying absurd shit like that.”
"I’ll be right back, everyone.” Saint shouted, AMP shot them a knowing look, Hugo and Oliver nodded. They went back inside to match Bridger’s level of dress. Cornelia got up and approached Bridger.
“I told you they would love this.”
“Yeah yeah, you know clothes. They called me… beautiful. Ugh, we have got to get this show on the road so I can get out of this outfit though.”
“Not until ton-”
“Nope, not going there, chill… ma’am, already too familiar.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s… fine. You’ve seen this sort of thing before. I’ve never been to a wedding. I know this is a substandard amount of guests, but do you think my da- uh, Hugo could walk me down, and then, Oliver could-”
“Of course dear. Also did you say yes to photographs? I didn’t want to snap any if you weren’t comfortable with it.”
“I mean, the way I see it - people take pictures when Psychic Assault plays at The Orange Peel. Ultimately this is a performance. Just, please don’t go sharing those around, okay?”
“I swear this will stay between the six of us. I wouldn’t want to betray your need for privacy.”
“Thank you. For all of this. The suit, the wine, the photos, but also this setup, taking me in, putting your faith in a stranger who didn’t deserve it.”
“Shush, enough of that, not today. I’m gonna go send Hugo and Oliver over, Oliver will head inside to meet Saint, AMP will start up the music, Hugo will walk you down, then Oliver will walk Saint down, you will meet in the middle with AMP, Oliver and Hugo will take their seats, and then AMP will begin.”
“Why did I even call the shots back at Pigeon Forge? You’re a brilliant strategist, ma’am.” Bridger chuckled. Cornelia laughed as well.
“Joking? That is a good sign. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you joke before.”
“This domestication thing really is working on me. That’s what Saint says at least.”
Vanderbilt gave them a soft hug, then resumed her spot with the other three Kindred. She relayed the strategy, then Hugo and Oliver got up and approached Bridger. Oliver gave them a jab on the shoulder. “Break a leg.” he whispered encouragingly. Bridger’s brow looked more confused, but they were still smiling. Weird ass Brit.
“Hey kid, how ya holdin’ up?” Hugo asked.
“Ya know what? I’m doing pretty fucking good, ya mutt, how bout you?”
“Yeah, I’m happy, happy to see ya’ll like this, happy it came together so smoothly, happy you didn’t actually fight that Brujah to the death.”
“I mean, we still scuffle sometimes, but, yeah, I suppose it was the right call. Or rather, that you convinced me to be a little less… dramatic. I just didn’t know how to express how I felt.”
“You were kind of raised like shit, but I got you.”
“No kidding. Hey, this part is supposed to be for… parents, traditionally, but since I never met my mom, and my father is in hell…”
“Of course kid.”
AMP started strumming his guitar to a formal sounding wedding-adjacent song. Hugo extended his arm, and Bridger took it in theirs. They walked together slowly down the makeshift aisle, and Vanderbilt snapped constant photos. In one particular photo, unbeknownst to anybody but the two of them, Hugo’s and AMP’s eyes met before looking away quickly. Something was abuzz in the air other than the two in focus. Once they arrived at AMP, the three of them smiled widely. Holy shit, it’s happening. Bridger was verging on overwhelmed with emotions. AMP slowed their strumming for a moment before returning to the rhythm to lead Saint in.
Bridger leaned their head towards Hugo, and whispered “Thanks, Dad.” Their first time calling him as such. Sure they had referred to him as such, but never directly. It felt weird, but today felt weird, like it was okay to try new things. Hugo gave Bridger a side hug, and also fought a tear. The music resumed.
Now Saint appeared from the house, their suit crisp from being recently pressed. They had Oliver’s arm in theirs, and they began their journey towards Bridger.
“Well, they haven’t run away, that’s a good sign.” Saint whispered to Oliver.
“What do you think they said to the Old Goat? He looks positively on the verge of tears.”
“I wonder. Hey, thanks Pops.”
“No problem Kiddo. You know, the moment I saw you two making eyes in the Biltmore, I knew it would go this way.”
“Uh, no the fuck you didn’t.” Saint chuckled.
“Well, okay, I knew they were interested in you in a way that went beyond revenge or however they phrased it. A rematch. That was it.”
“Ah man, I’d wanna say that that was an entirely different Bridger than we see dressed to the nines ahead of us, but really they’re the same ol’ grumpy Gangrel under all that. They just had more time to cook and focus on those emotions.”
“We’re almost there, maybe talk less unless you want to embarrass the poor Bobcat, turn this thing into a proper brawl after all.”
“Heh, you’re right.”
Saint arrived at their destination, and gave Oliver a hug. They took a deep breath, and then released him. They then turned to look at Bridger. The white tux was stunning, they hadn’t seen this Gangrel in much beyond their dusty parka, and athletic pants, outside of a gag t-shirt they had gotten them that Bridger ended up wearing to every Psychic Assault show. Then of course, they’d seen them in less than that as well. From their nights in denial that this was anything more than transactional, to when Bridger finally admitted their feelings after Saint had worked so hard at expressing themselves, making their feelings blatant for months. Now Bridger was here, wearing a suit for them, ready to marry them, in front of their trusted confidants. The music was fading out, so the audible camera snaps became slightly more apparent. Bridger smiled a truly innocent smile of awe beneath their mask, looking into Saint’s eyes. From this, Saint’s eyes reddened in the corners, tears that were on the verge of breaking the levee. Bridger reached up with a pocket handkerchief to keep the red from ruining suits and photos. They gently wiped at Saint’s face. “Thanks, Bridge.” Saint mouthed.
AMP began the proceedings.
"Dearly immortally bestowed, we are gathered here this evening to join together this Brujah and this Gangrel in eternal matrimony. The all mighty Troile’s and the wise Ennoia’s lineages are to be combined forthwith into one bloodline within these two participants, Saint and Bridger.”
They looked away from the small crowd, most specifically Hugo, and eyed the couple before them. "My best friends. I'm so very proud of you two."
They continued with the apparent script. “You have chosen to come together in this union because of your love and commitment to each other. We are honored to stand as witnesses to the power of these Kindreds’ connection. ‘Love is a promise, love is a souvenir, once given, never forgotten, never let it disappear.’ John Lennon. ‘In the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.’ Paul McCartney. ‘It's all love - how much you can get from each other, and that is determined by how much you're giving to each other.’ George Harrison. ‘I’m Ringo’. Ringo Starr.” Bridger rolled their eyes, Saint chuckled softly.
“Bridger, Saint, if you will join hands, and follow my lead.” AMP demanded.
They held each other, and Saint detected a slight shiver in Bridger, but their eyes met again and it calmed the Finicky Cat. Just a little bit longer, babe, you’re doing great. Saint thinks.
“Bridger, do you take Saint to be your spouse, from this day forward, pledging your love, unlife, and loyalty, in every season until your end of days?”
“I do.” Their voice was raspy as ever, but loud, not shy, and full of confidence. Saint saw the fire ignite in their eyes. Do it coward, say it back, you won’t say it as hard as I did. Bridger thought, smirking as if they had just dunked on their spouse-to-be.
“Saint, do you take Bridger to be your spouse, from this day forward, pledging your love, unlife, and loyalty, in every season until your end of days?”
“Damn right I do.” Saint said, their tone smug and proud. Bridger’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Oh you motherfucker, it’s on.
“Now, Saint, if you will please place a ring on your Bridger’s finger and repeat after me.” Saint removed a simple ring from their pocket, something that could easily be concealed, a black tungsten carbide ring with a thin sapphire inlay. They took Bridger’s hand, and slid the ring onto their ring finger. Bridger stared at its reflective surface, then back into Saint’s matching blue eyes, and fought back a hard blush.
“With this ring” “With this ring”, “I marry you in the name of love, loyalty, and commitment.” “I marry you in the name of love, loyalty, and commitment.” “To have and to hold, from this night forward,” “To have and to hold, from this night forward,” “for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in torpor and in health,” “for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in torpor and in health,” “to love and to cherish, till the tempest doth take me, and I sleep no more.” “to love and to cherish, till the tempest doth take me, and I sleep no more.”
“Now Bridger, if you will please place a ring on your Saint’s finger and repeat the same.” Bridger retrieved a similar ring, except with a significant pallet swap. A little showier, but then again Saint had a penchant for talking to people and was less bothered by questions. A white gold ring with an emerald inlay. They placed it on Saint’s ring finger, and slid it down the length. Recognizing this motion made Saint go beat red, and they turned their head away from the small crowd for a second.
“Hey, Finicky Cat, It’s okay, nobody thinks this is weird. I promise.” Saint whispered comfortingly.
“Thank you.” Bridger whispered back.
“If you are ready, Bridger.” AMP asked, after giving their friend a moment to recollect themselves. Bridger nodded.
“I’m ready. Thank you AMP, I needed that.”
“With this ring” “With this ring”, “I marry you in the name of love, loyalty, and commitment.” “I marry you in the name of love, loyalty, and commitment.” “To have and to hold, from this night forward,” “To have and to... hold, from this night forward,” “for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in torpor and in health,” “for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in torpor and in health,” “to love and to cherish, till the tempest doth take me, and I sleep no more.” “to love and to cherish, till the tempest doth take me, and I sleep no more.”
“By the power vested in me by the Camarilla, and under order of Prince Cornelia Stuyvesant Vanderbilt of Asheville, North Carolina, I now pronounce you married spouses, Saint and Bridger Parks. You may kiss.”
Saint went to motion not to say that last part, thinking it would embarrass Bridger a great deal, but Bridger, having seen this as a competition more recently, unlooped their left ear’s mask loop with their right hand’s thumb, then placed their palm on Saint’s face. Their left hand held Saint’s waist. Saint’s eyes went wide in surprise, but it was too late - Bridger closed, and kissed them. Their hands went over Bridger’s shoulders. The audience was shielded by cloth at first, and now a suited arm, and although AMP caught the beginning of this, Saint’s arm now protected them on that side as well. There was cheering, and AMP had returned to their guitar with another song, but Bridger and Saint didn’t hear any of it, they were in their own little world for the time being.
“I love you so much, my Saint.“
“I love you too.”
The next few moments were a blur, but one thing was for sure, AMP provided cover for Bridger as they re-concealed their face. Afterwards there were photos, some with timers that had all six of them in the shot. Then the dads dipped out for their own smoke break and conversation.
"Well shit, you Old Goat, I suppose I owe you fifteen quid.”
"Keep it. I’m happy for them, really I am, but it’s only now kind of dawning on me that this can be a thing.”
“Whaddya mean? The gay thing?”
“No, not ‘the gay thing’. They’re Coworkers, Oliver, members of the Prince’s Court. Sure, Nell has been lenient with their blurred situationship with their ‘do they hate each other or are they dating on the downlow’ thing, but, they’re married now.”
“Why wouldn’t that be okay? Wait, oh shit, our old third. You still-”
“Shut it. I don’t know what this is, but I’d always assumed that wasn’t okay. Nell gave me that vibe once or twice when AMP and I were-”
“Did you ever actually ask her?”
“Well, no, not specifically. But also you-”
“I just wanted you two to focus on the task at hand. I couldn’t have cared less what you got up to, just not on the job.”
Hugo ashed his cigarette, and put his fingers on the bridge of his nose. In his memories, Hugo’s attention was on an exchange he had with the Prince decades ago, when he was asked about his budding relationship with Asheville’s Seneschal, and when he answered he felt dismissed. In reality, Nell was neck deep in paperwork, and was only attempting to let him know that if they were a thing that he should be careful, and that she should be kept informed. He was now realizing this in real time. “Well shit.”
“Well put. I’m going to let you stew on this for a bit, your secret is safe with me I guess? I’ll support you with whatever you wanna do, but Hugo, you Neanderthal, you two aren’t even coworkers anymore. What’s the damn hold up?”
“God damn it.”
“There there you brute, let it all out.”
“I- thanks Oliver, Fuckin’ hell. I feel like I missed my shot.”
“Eternity is a long time you Old Goat, and you’re both still around, and in the same area. They haven’t shied away from you in all this time, even after whatever that was before.”
“You’re right. You’re right. Okay, when the time is right. Let’s drop it for now.”
“Say no more, they probably think we’re talking about them.”
“In a way, all three of them really are a unit. So we sort of were.”
“Fair point.”
Back with the other four, AMP and Nell were doing their best to not make things weird for the newly married Gangrel, meanwhile Saint was absolutely living in this moment.
“Just realized we never tossed a bouquet.”
“No bouquet to toss. Also, who else is even trying to get married here? Ma’am, is there any sort of prospective-”
“Now who’s getting too familiar?” Tarheel Nell smirked and Bridger sunk into their tuxedo. “But no, I have everything I need. I did enough of that in the twenties. Spouses didn’t seem to stick and they only led me to getting Embraced.”
Bridger and Saint’s brows arched. Bridger turned to AMP. “And you aren’t really the relationship type.”
Nell chuckled. Bridger read this as her making slight fun of their Malkavian best friend, but Saint, and more so AMP and Nell, reflected on a pre-Bridger Asheville. Times in which Seneschal AMP and Sheriff Hugo spent a lot of time together, barely avoiding prying eyes of the other members of Nell’s council. Riding the adrenaline highs of battle with sweet and intense sidebars away from Oliver.
“Yeah, I suppose not.” AMP responded plainly, which received a light scowl from Vanderbilt. Now it was Saint who was averting their knowing eyes. “Perhaps Oliver.”
“Oh? You know something we don’t, bud?”
“No, he just seems the least entangled.”
“I don’t imagine this speculative business is your cup of tea, Bridger.” Nell interrupted.
“Correct.”
“Besides, tonight is about you two, and those two are coming back to the table.”
Once all was said and done, after kind words were exchanged, and toasts were made, after a small dinner for six close friends, and after the evening finally grew ever closer towards the morning, Bridger and Saint looked into each others eyes and knew that the time and energy they had reserved for anyone except each other had come to an end. They joined each other, hand in hand, bid everyone a good rest of their evening and retreated into the comfort of their home, mere steps away.