Participants:
| Scene Title | Hurricane Sera |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Batten down the fucking hatches. |
| Date | April 4, 2020 |
As the afternoon has worn on, cake has been cut and first dances have been had. And seconds. And thirds. This is the fourth time out on the floor for the newlyweds and Nicole has been varying shades of deliriously happy all day long. With her chin nestled against her husband’s shoulder as they turn in place, swaying to the music just enough to call it dancing, this moment is no exception.
Her eyes are closed and a dreamy little smile is on her face. The photographer will no doubt have some great shots from this. And of the way she cups Zachery’s face when the song fades away into something with a higher tempo. She presses a kiss to his mouth and murmurs in his ear, “C’mon. Let’s get some air, huh?”
For Zachery, patience has certainly been one of the running themes of today. Even he can't complain right now, though. It's not that he hasn't occasionally shown signs of feeling sorely out of place, indulging others and attending to all the necessary bullet points… but there are moments like these, where he forgets himself ever so briefly. Long enough to look surprised when he's asked the question, as if he was just starting to enjoy himself.
This, however, doesn't keep him from still saying, "Yes," with all the vigor of a dog responding to whether it wants to go to the dog park. Barely into a rushed kiss returned to her, he's pulling her away, hand grabbed as he jolts fully back to life and strides forward through whatever opening between people he can find. BYE. Got all he needs for now.
The sound of a glass breaking somewhat behind but mostly to the side of Zachery and Nicole draws both of their attention. A small group of wedding guests part around a broken champagne flute on the ground and the person who, up until a moment ago, had been holding it.
“N’cole!”
The cry comes from a woman in a fitted sequin-lined fishscale dress, one elbow waggling to shake off a concerned guest who tries to keep her from moving in Nicole and Zachery’s direction on wobbling legs. She hisses something back at the guest, then stagger-stomps her way over, blonde hair halfway out of the neat bun that it was once wound in.
Zachery didn’t even need to look to know who it was. He invited her after all.
“N’cole!” Sera cries again, one finger wagging in the air as she squints in her direction. “We need’a talk, you’ve gotta do-over. We need a do-over.” Sera nearly rolls her ankle, windmills her arms and grabs onto a nearby wedding guest then pushes herself off like he took a pass at her.
Breaking glass is not entirely unexpected. Accidents happen. Nicole, used to ignoring sounds of calamity unless her child is actually calling for her — and only a moment’s pause tells her that Pippa isn’t calling out any danger — carries right on with her plan to escape for make outs air with her husband.
Until she hears her name being called. Nicole’s hand on Zachery’s elbow pulls him to a stop. The air around them smells faintly of ozone, and Zachery is quickly discovering what his wife’s entire nervous system looks like when it goes into fight mode. Involuntarily, of course. Nicole is all perfect composure when she turns around to face the source of the shouting.
Sweet woman, Nicole had called Sera earlier in the day. She’d been fond about it. Now, for all that her posture is perfectly relaxed, she’s prepared to find out how not sweet Mrs. Lang is.
“Oh, gosh,” the bride starts forward to meet Sera halfway, arms out to receive her. “Hello, dear!” A pleasant smile is plastered on her face. Nothing to see here, everyone. Everything is just fine. “Of course. Do-over. Let’s talk.”
Or fistfight. Ball’s in Sera’s court on this one.
Zachery grinds to a halt with a craning of his neck that very easily does the job of communicating an unspoken 'god fucking damn it'.
But he turns a moment later, quite abruptly, looking first to Nicole — and then to Sera. His demeanor changes in an instant to one of pure delight, and he aims a quickly widening grin at her as well as at various, concerned guests. "Oh," he notes finally, "Why is my favourite guest talking about do-overs, now? We haven't even danced yet and you're legless already. Are you trying to impress me, Ms. Lang?"
Because it might be working.
“Well,” Sera says with a prop of her brows up, “maybe ish’because you’n me…” she stinks of alcohol, but not as much as Nicole would expect of someone this drunk. It’s entirely possible Sera Lang doesn’t get out much. “Me’n you…” she waves dismissive hand at Zachery, then turns to Nicole.
“Honey, sweetie,” Sera says to Nicole, “baby.” Hand on the arm. “The part’f the wedding with the… uh… bride’n groom and someone can say no? I does— I need’t say no, Nicole. M’so sorry, we’re so sorry.” She says making direct eye-contact with Zachery before looking back again.
“I have t’marry your hushband,” Sera says with a genuinely sad expression. “B’cause we jusht made out, and I think I’m in love, and we can’t jusht keep…” she wobbles, hand on Nicole’s shoulder to steady, “keep’sh behind your back anymore.”
Nicole’s brows come together in confusion while Sera tries to get to the point via the scenic route. A little nervous chuckle escapes her sort of involuntarily, that smile of hers still fixed. “You need to—”
??????
Blue eyes grow wider, some alarm slipping in to that confusion before slants a glance to her husband from the corner of her eye without turning her head. Not the type that’s accusatory. There’s no way in hell that Doctor Zachery Miller was stupid enough to make out with another woman at their wedding reception.
“Oh.” With Sera’s hand on her arm, Nicole rests hers against the point of the other woman’s elbow to help provide more stability. “I see.” She puts an appropriately crestfallen expression on, nodding so solemnly. “I understand. It was really good of you to tell me.”
Now… Now she turns to look at her husband. What do we do? her eyes are asking.
Standing back, Zachery watches Sera the way one might watch a home video of a small child puttering about around the edge of a pool. You know they're going to fall in, and there's clearly other people around to film it, so it'll be fine, but…
How fine?
Extremely fine, it turns out.
He wheezes out a poor attempt at hiding a laugh, looks quickly out over the sea of guests as he stretches a little taller and then waves an arm up and over to the other side of the room. He steps forward toward Sera, and slips that same arm under hers, taking his rightful place of support beside her.
"I'm so, so sorry," he tells Nicole, his voice carrying the same amount of apologetic sincerity with which an escaped inside-only cat clambers desperately up a tree before its owner can reach it. "I'm a stickler for the rules, you know this."
“Shtickler,” Sera slurs. “Y’only get one’f those do-over things,” she says with a lopsided smile, suddenly just looping an arm around Nicole’s shoulders like they’ve known each other all their lives. “An’ f’I’d known that your hushband was so inf— inn— infash— infashioned with me, I would’ve said somethin’ sooner. But I didn’t an’ so we— we’ve gotta— do a do over.”
Sera lifts a hand to press to Nicole’s cheek. “We gotta do a do over, I’m so sorry.” She’s smiling and shaking her head while she says that, one eye closed a little bit more than the other. “I’m so shorry, because— thish was y’special day, an’ all’a truth is just so… uhh…”
The whole time Sera is pawing at her, Nicole is staring at Zachery with those too-bright eyes of hers like she might — right now, at this very moment — be plotting fifteen different ways to murder him, and twenty more ways to get away with it.
Then, it all gives way to a very pleasant smile. “Oh, Sera, honey. Sweetie.
“Baby.”
Nicole rests her hand over Sera’s on her face, gently guiding it away before she can smudge her meticulously applied make-up too badly. Or smudge pieces of cake on her cheek? Who the hell knows with this one.
“Zachery and I have an understanding.” Nicole ducks out from under Sera’s arm, but guides the Raytech receptionist to her husband instead. “You can have him every third Tuesday.”
These are the moments in which the ability to manifest a man opera-singing the word 'mistake' behind you very loudly would come in handy.
Sure, the mistake would already have been made, but at least Zachery would now been afforded a few extra seconds in which to prepare for Damian sliiiding into the conversation at his brother's side, having been waved over a moment earlier, eyebrows now high over an expression of eager intrigue.
"Nice," the shorter-haired, blue-suited, two-eyed copy of Zachery proclaims with enthusiasm, as if he'd been part of the conversation all along rather than just overhearing the last sentence. "That's, what, 16 visits?" He asks Sera directly.
The colour, meanwhile, drains from the groom's face as hiding laughter turns to humourless, slightly panicked chuckle. "Shit."
The color drains out of Sera’s face too when she sees Damian and Zachery side by side, wobbles, twists, makes a small noise in the back of her throat that might as well be an airhorn to Nicole, as she tries to say, “What.” Then immediately pivots around and vomits on the floor with the intensity of someone who does it for a living.
There is no grace with which Sera finally loses a champagne and hor d'oeuvres colored firehose onto the floor. Just a loud horking sound and then it’s just all downhill from here. But at the same time she’s losing her balance and reaching out for Nicole to try and keep herself standing.
This, distinguished guests, is precisely why Nicole was already beginning to hand Sera off to her husband. Because Nicole’s been down this road more than twice, and she knows when the Sword of Damocles is set to drop.
“Nope, nope, nope!” Sorry, Sera. She is not above shoving one of the men in the way of this disaster if she has to as she’s dancing back a step. “Not the dress! Not the shoes! Not today!”
Except that Sera has somehow managed to snag her wrist. Nicole’s eyes grow wide as saucers and she reaches blindly for the twin closest to her, heels clomping on the hard floor as she struggles to maintain her own balance. “Nononononono!”
"SHIT!" Says Damian this time, arms up and stepping back right before surprise descends into laughter.
Zachery joins in but through his teeth, before getting smacked in the face by a flailing wife and reflexively reaching over to steady her by the shoulders, amusement still rife amidst a face frozen with panic. "Dames, could you-"
"Yep," Damian offers on the end of a laugh, bending forward to get a look at Sera's face before reaching for her grabbing hand and preparing to catch her with another, besides. "Hello sweetheart. Have you seen the bathrooms here? They're lush," for his standards, "come have a look."
Unaware that she’s being passed from Doctor Handsome #1 to Not Actually a Physician But Handsome #2, Sera makes a disquieted sound, followed by a hellish burp, and leans against Damian.
“You know, you’re… you’re my primary caregiver, in my heart.” Sera says with an embarrassed bubble of laughter.
Or she will be embarrassed. Tomorrow.
And quite possibly for the rest of her life.