They could have done it in DC; when all was said and done, Peter was grateful they chose to have it in New York. Grateful enough to almost run himself and everyone else into the ground trying to make it perfect.
"Isn't the bride supposed to be the one turning into a psychotic..." Neal shut up after Peter directed that flat, harried stare at him. "Never mind."
"I'm not going psychotic," Peter huffed. "I just want this to go off well. Diana's put up with a lot from you... from me and you," he corrected after Neal's headtilt and stare of petulant reproof.
"And from this agency, and she's put up with a lot of flack from the government. Now they're finally able to do this, I want it to go off right."
Neal couldn't argue with that, and indicated as much with a shrug. "Just, um. Don't go overboard, okay? I don't think either of them are big on ostentatious displays, and you're about to drive your own wife crazy."
"What? Besides, her end of this is pretty much done, right? The cake's here, the places are all set up, everything's set up. Place looks... gorgeous..."
Neal followed his glance around the greenery to the trees above the ceremony site itself, where there were several birds roosting. He thought they made a pretty soothing sound, but by the look on Peter's face the prospect of many people in expensive dresses being shat upon by pigeons was uppermost in his mind. Neal opened his mouth to suggest something, but Peter wasn't listening anymore.
"Oh, damn, the pigeons..." Peter rushed off to ask Elizabeth if the birds had been driven out of the overhanging trees yet. Neal shook his head.
"And in three. Two..."
"PETER!" came the exasperated shriek from the tent across the rooftop park.
Neal smirked. Just a little bit.
The bird problem was solved with the use of cheap, disposable, but pretty-looking buntings acquired with Neal's fast talking and a department store's floor reset now hung under the trees to catch the offending droppings. El thanked Neal and threatened to sit on Peter if he didn't stop fussing over every little detail.
"That's my job, honey. Go sit down."
"But..."
"Go."
Neal tucked his arm through Peter's and dragged him over to his seat, then held up a piece of silver lace they'd used to tie back some of the bunting. "Now, this is a tracking anklet..."
"Very funny."
"I'm serious. You keep trying to do your wife's job for her and she's going to make me sit on you."
"Neal..."
"And you're not going to like that."
Peter tried to come up with something to say to Neal's calm, almost-smiling stare. It didn't work. "Don't look at me like that."
"Uh-huh." Neal shook his head and went off to make sure each bride was ready. Christie was ready, as ready as she was going to be with that amount of nerves. She wasn't a friend; he could lie to her and tell her it would all be all right. He could tell her they'd be together forever, and she would have beautiful pictures and memories to look back on. Some days, he even believed that, but right now what was most important was that she believed that, and Neal was very, very good at getting people to believe what he wanted them to.
Diana was harder. She was a friend, and she knew him well enough not to trust him. At least with the pretty lies. "Ready?"
"No?" Diana laughed, nervous but real. "And yes. I feel like... Maybe I've been ready for this my whole life. And at the same time, I didn't expect it to actually happen. Things like this don't happen to people like me."
Neal blinked. He hadn't expected an honest answer, but maybe she was just nervous enough to give it. "Why not?"
"Isn't the bride supposed to be the one turning into a psychotic..." Neal shut up after Peter directed that flat, harried stare at him. "Never mind."
"I'm not going psychotic," Peter huffed. "I just want this to go off well. Diana's put up with a lot from you... from me and you," he corrected after Neal's headtilt and stare of petulant reproof.
"And from this agency, and she's put up with a lot of flack from the government. Now they're finally able to do this, I want it to go off right."
Neal couldn't argue with that, and indicated as much with a shrug. "Just, um. Don't go overboard, okay? I don't think either of them are big on ostentatious displays, and you're about to drive your own wife crazy."
"What? Besides, her end of this is pretty much done, right? The cake's here, the places are all set up, everything's set up. Place looks... gorgeous..."
Neal followed his glance around the greenery to the trees above the ceremony site itself, where there were several birds roosting. He thought they made a pretty soothing sound, but by the look on Peter's face the prospect of many people in expensive dresses being shat upon by pigeons was uppermost in his mind. Neal opened his mouth to suggest something, but Peter wasn't listening anymore.
"Oh, damn, the pigeons..." Peter rushed off to ask Elizabeth if the birds had been driven out of the overhanging trees yet. Neal shook his head.
"And in three. Two..."
"PETER!" came the exasperated shriek from the tent across the rooftop park.
Neal smirked. Just a little bit.
The bird problem was solved with the use of cheap, disposable, but pretty-looking buntings acquired with Neal's fast talking and a department store's floor reset now hung under the trees to catch the offending droppings. El thanked Neal and threatened to sit on Peter if he didn't stop fussing over every little detail.
"That's my job, honey. Go sit down."
"But..."
"Go."
Neal tucked his arm through Peter's and dragged him over to his seat, then held up a piece of silver lace they'd used to tie back some of the bunting. "Now, this is a tracking anklet..."
"Very funny."
"I'm serious. You keep trying to do your wife's job for her and she's going to make me sit on you."
"Neal..."
"And you're not going to like that."
Peter tried to come up with something to say to Neal's calm, almost-smiling stare. It didn't work. "Don't look at me like that."
"Uh-huh." Neal shook his head and went off to make sure each bride was ready. Christie was ready, as ready as she was going to be with that amount of nerves. She wasn't a friend; he could lie to her and tell her it would all be all right. He could tell her they'd be together forever, and she would have beautiful pictures and memories to look back on. Some days, he even believed that, but right now what was most important was that she believed that, and Neal was very, very good at getting people to believe what he wanted them to.
Diana was harder. She was a friend, and she knew him well enough not to trust him. At least with the pretty lies. "Ready?"
"No?" Diana laughed, nervous but real. "And yes. I feel like... Maybe I've been ready for this my whole life. And at the same time, I didn't expect it to actually happen. Things like this don't happen to people like me."
Neal blinked. He hadn't expected an honest answer, but maybe she was just nervous enough to give it. "Why not?"
Diana gave him a look.
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