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bugsandslimeHodgins made his escape out of the elegantly appointed doors of Sunny Day Weddings with far more haste than dignity. Never in his life had he been so relieved to get a message that a body had just been brought into the lab.
He had expected his drop-in visit at the wedding coordinator’s office to be a little on the awkward side. After all, Bride & Groom Flee Ceremony probably hadn’t been on the agenda. His plan had been to hand the check over to the secretary with a, “I hear everyone had a really great time—thanks for all your hard work,” and be on his way.
Instead he had found himself seated in a spindly floral chair while Sunny Kitrick herself (a polished woman in her early thirties wearing a sweater set and pearls) fell over herself apologizing for whatever she might have done that had displeased him and Angela to the point that they were no-shows at their own reception.
Hodgins had been half afraid that she was going to commit Hara Kari with a filigreed silver letter opener right in front of him.
“With only a week to pull things together, Mr. Hodgins, I know that we may have had to compromise slightly on some of the details. I am so sorry—I should have kept you better informed of--”
“No. No really—that had nothing to do with it.”
“If the colors of the flowers for the church were a bit off--”
“I wasn’t really paying much attention, but I’m sure they were awesome.” Hodgins had been way too focused on Angela to remember whether or not there had even been flowers at the church.
“The chef may have had to make some very minor substitutions on the food for the reception, but I can assure you--”
“We never actually made it to the reception, but we’re told that the food was great.” True enough. Booth had been very enthusiastic on the subject once he’d left off giving Hodgins a hard time.
It had taken all of his restraint to hold back a very earnest, It’s not you. It’s me.
“Really, you did a great job with the whole wedding thing. Excellent. There was just a minor bigamy issue. Well, not really a bigamy issue,” he’d added hastily, laughing a bit (mostly at the horrified expression on Sunny’s face). “There was no actual bigamy.” Close only counted in horse shoes and hand grenades. “Just a minor technical snag—it was a great wedding, really, with the flowers and…..the flowers….and stuff.”
At which point his phone had gone off.
“…and that swoopy purple stuff and those pew bows…..” Hodgins fished his phone out of his pocket and read the text on the screen. “…and we have a corpse so I have to run, but it was really a pleasure working with you and thank you for everything. I’ll show myself out—have a good day!”
Maybe once they got Angela’s first marriage annulled and could get married themselves, he could talk her into a Vegas elopement, Hodgins reflected. Elvis impersonators being a lot less scary than wedding coordinators.
He had expected his drop-in visit at the wedding coordinator’s office to be a little on the awkward side. After all, Bride & Groom Flee Ceremony probably hadn’t been on the agenda. His plan had been to hand the check over to the secretary with a, “I hear everyone had a really great time—thanks for all your hard work,” and be on his way.
Instead he had found himself seated in a spindly floral chair while Sunny Kitrick herself (a polished woman in her early thirties wearing a sweater set and pearls) fell over herself apologizing for whatever she might have done that had displeased him and Angela to the point that they were no-shows at their own reception.
Hodgins had been half afraid that she was going to commit Hara Kari with a filigreed silver letter opener right in front of him.
“With only a week to pull things together, Mr. Hodgins, I know that we may have had to compromise slightly on some of the details. I am so sorry—I should have kept you better informed of--”
“No. No really—that had nothing to do with it.”
“If the colors of the flowers for the church were a bit off--”
“I wasn’t really paying much attention, but I’m sure they were awesome.” Hodgins had been way too focused on Angela to remember whether or not there had even been flowers at the church.
“The chef may have had to make some very minor substitutions on the food for the reception, but I can assure you--”
“We never actually made it to the reception, but we’re told that the food was great.” True enough. Booth had been very enthusiastic on the subject once he’d left off giving Hodgins a hard time.
It had taken all of his restraint to hold back a very earnest, It’s not you. It’s me.
“Really, you did a great job with the whole wedding thing. Excellent. There was just a minor bigamy issue. Well, not really a bigamy issue,” he’d added hastily, laughing a bit (mostly at the horrified expression on Sunny’s face). “There was no actual bigamy.” Close only counted in horse shoes and hand grenades. “Just a minor technical snag—it was a great wedding, really, with the flowers and…..the flowers….and stuff.”
At which point his phone had gone off.
“…and that swoopy purple stuff and those pew bows…..” Hodgins fished his phone out of his pocket and read the text on the screen. “…and we have a corpse so I have to run, but it was really a pleasure working with you and thank you for everything. I’ll show myself out—have a good day!”
Maybe once they got Angela’s first marriage annulled and could get married themselves, he could talk her into a Vegas elopement, Hodgins reflected. Elvis impersonators being a lot less scary than wedding coordinators.
