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Fly Me To Honeymoon

Written by Woodclaw :: [Sunday, 14 April 2013 12:22] Last updated by :: [Tuesday, 08 April 2014 15:15]

Fly Me To Honeymoon

in other words: an epilogue to Cos-Play

By Anon

(revised by Camille Jones, Njae and Pansardum)


Author's Note: as noted above this an epilogue to my Cos-Play story from the last workshop. For more information about the characters, please go back and read it.


Well, this is it: my W-Day has finally arrived.

I honestly can't believe it. I mean, Frank proposed five months ago, that's 153 days ago (give or take a handful of hours, minutes and seconds, which I'm pretty sure I can calculate in a blink). I know that on a rational level, but they feel more like 153 minutes.

To be honest, I have never been happier to have the Costume. I've seen a few friends getting ready for their weddings and, let me tell you, balancing the number of chores it requires with a semblance of life will get to you, eventually. I never thought that super-speed could be so useful, it literally saved me. It gave me time to do everything I needed.

Still, I feel like I'm on the verge of collapsing. Super-strength or not, my legs feel like pudding. I almost collapse when my father taps my shoulder.

Are you ready?” For the occasion he had dug out his old dress uniform from the Army. I have to say, even at 65, he still looks great in it. I can totally see why mom was … is so infatuated.

No time like the present.” I smile back.

As we march down the aisle, I take a moment to examine the guests, all 30 of them. We opted for a very small ceremony. The bulk of Frank's family lives in Alaska and couldn't make it; while my relatives are … for the most part … not very tight knit. So the rows are mostly filled with friends, including Kay and Janet – who pretty much stand half a head over all others. They give me four thumbs up as we pass next to them.

Mom is in the front row, beaming with pride and wearing a pretty awkward yellow dress – not that I would hold it against her, after all I'm the one who's getting married in blue (and black, since I'm wearing the top and skirt of the Costume under the dress). Next to mom, the obligatory disgruntled relative: my little sister, Silvia. She has always been the little spoiled princess, so she's really pissed of getting married after the resident tomboy. I can hear her muttering and grumbling about me looking like a butch, but I really don't care.

Frank stands next to the altar and looking incredibly stiff in his dark blue collar and tie. He has never been the kind of guy that looks good in a formal dress – in particular he hates ties – but he's really trying to looks at his best.

As father Martin – the minister – starts the liturgy, I feel the tension rising. Frank is pretty much holding his breath the whole time, to the point that I have to give him a tiny nudge with the elbow at the moment of saying our vows – cuing a giggle from the guests and a snort from Silvia.

As we finish pronouncing the vows, father Martin continues: “By the power vested in me by the state of Illinois, I pronounce you husband and wife.” (Thankfully he didn't say 'man and wife', I hate when they do that) “You may kis- Hey!” before he can finish, I pretty much jump and kiss Frank. We have kissed plenty of times before, but we both know that this is 'the special one'. I close my eyes and shut off the entire world as we just enjoy the moment. It is beautiful. It is perfect. It feel like I'm floating.

The guests let out a collective gasp. I open my eyes and I'm really floating, just a few inches above the ground; holding Frank tightly against me. Maybe donning the costume wasn't such a bright idea. Everyone's eyes are wide open and fixed on us – except for Janet and Kay, who are laughing themselves to death. Meanwhile Silvia looks close to a seizure.

As I keep hovering, uncertain about what to do, Frank whispers to my ear: “Sharon, why did you put on the Costume? You promised to save it for special needs.”

I know, honey, but would you really blame me for it? No moment will ever be as special as this one. I just wanted to live it to the fullest.”

Frank doesn't reply and I notice that some of the guests are coming back to their senses. I really don't want to be barraged by questions now, so I hold Frank close and smile at the audience: “Sorry for the show. I'll see you all back at the party.” With that being said I fly out of the church among the astonished looks.

The guests rush out after us, just in time to see me gaining altitude with my gown flapping in the breeze. As I reach about 30 feet, Frank points at my bouquet: “Shane, aren't you forgetting something?” I grin mischievously and toss the flowers down.

From my vantage point I see that the guests are still recovering. None of the girls seem to realize what's going on, except for Janet and Kay, obviously. I see Kay elbowing her way out and making a run for the flowers. I really expected her to pull some kind of bullets-and-bracelets stunt at this point. Since I really don't want her to do it, I fired a concentrated puff of super-breath to the flowers. The bouquet tumbles out of her reach and fly over the heads of the guests, without anyone even attempting to grab them – they're still fixated on me. In the end the bouquet grazes mom's hair and ends up in Silvia's lap. I swear to God, it was completely unintentional but, I have to admit, I wouldn't have it any other way. I really want to mend things with Silvia somehow and this might be a good first step.

Am I a romantic?

Oh yes, most definitely.

In fact now I have a party followed by a very romantic honeymoon. Where? Let's just say that when you can fly distance isn't a problem … and you can allow yourself some extra luxury here and there.

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