#trickyshipping

Looking over the overpriced piece of paper that has just arrived in the mail, Lyra is forced to have a good thinking upon her position in life. Being completely honest, she is not completely sure why she was invited to that wedding in the first place.

Her parents, as in the bride’s mother’s brother and his wife, she could understand and chalk it up to those uncomfortable family dynamics that come into play on those occasions, but she was not exactly close with any of her cousins. In fact, all the interactions they have ever had, especially since growing up and inevitably growing apart, have been awkward smiles and strained small talk.

Nevertheless, the young woman accepted the invitation from the mailman, groaning at the plus one section and discarded it on the breakfast table before heading out.  

Her relationship with Lance is nothing new, especially considering the news cycle of those gossip rags that wasted the department stores from Lilycove to Veilstone, but they have not even reached their first anniversary yet. Though things were going well, she is not overly sure just how serious this was for him. A non-friend only plus one attendance would be seen as a serious move, and she does not know whether he was ready for that.

Lyra would have her answer soon enough.

*_*_*_*_*

“I’m not even sure if I want to go.” She had replied, trying to give a nonchalant shrug.

Lyra had not expected for Lance to pick it up off the coffee table when he came over later that night, and she mentally kicked herself for not moving it sooner when he gave her a confused expression as to why she had not asked him about this.  

Despite her earnest efforts, he saw through her ruse immediately.

“You love weddings.” He pointed out, his voice clear and factual. “Why wouldn’t you want to attend this one?”

The brunette scoffed. “I don’t love weddings, I just like them. They can be fun. I wouldn’t clear my agenda the second I received an invite, though.”

Lance does not need to know the veritable caravan she led to Hoenn when her childhood friend May married two years before, Lyra considered deep into her thoughts. She likes weddings, just like a normal, well-adjusted mature woman would.

“I see. Hypothetically, would it be the plus one section that’s making you say this?” He asked, tapping the card against the table.

The Dragon Tamer watched his girlfriend carefully as she shuffled from foot to foot nervously under his heavy scrutiny.  

“It’s the bride more than anything.” Lyra grumbled, opening the drawer and retrieving some food menus to help distract the man.  

“That would be your cousin, right?” He confirmed.

The brunette woman nodded. “Technically, yes, she is, but we’re not close. It feels like it was an invitation given purely to not cause a row in the family. I don’t think she actually wants me there.”

Lance stepped closer and rubbed her arms. “If I went with you, would that help?”

“I don’t want to put that on you.” She said, giving him the first genuine look since he had brought this up.  

“You’re not, I’m offering. I’m free that day, and I’d like to meet your family properly. It’s only fair, right?” He paused, putting down the invite and taps the table nervously before looking back up. “Unless the issue isn’t the wedding?”

“It’s her. Really.” Lyra smiled earnestly. “I hadn’t mentioned it because I didn’t know if I was going. If I’d made up my mind, then I’d have discussed it with you to see where you stood on things like this.”

“I’m standing at the ‘hi I’m your boyfriend and I would love to go out to these places with you’ spot. Please.” Lance smiled back, feeling rather self-conscious about the whole ordeal. “If you don’t like it, we can leave early, go get a takeaway and some beer and come home.”

“Fine.” She conceded. “I’ll put the RSVP on the mail in the morning.”

*_*_*_*_*

Though this whole thing had been Lance’s idea, being in the reception room was very different to the idea he had about escorting his girlfriend to a wedding.

To be completely fair, this was new ground for him, since he has only ever been to Clan weddings, and he has always gone stag. He knew the age difference would get tongues wagging, he noticed the way his name was uttered by the fans in the room, and he stood politely for photos with them when asked. What he was not prepared for was the nervousness he felt.

Thanks to the unpleasantness Claire put up four years ago, when Lyra was still running the gym challenge, she had the chance to properly meet basically his entire family, but he had not had the same privilege. Sure, he had briefly met her parents, but it had not been a sit down and get to know each other type of meeting. It felt rushed and awkward.

This could have been relaxed with very little pressure but, instead, he had piled it onto himself with expectations and demands. He is often his worst enemy in these circumstances.  

He sits back, adjusts his suit jacket, and stretches out his neck until he hears and feels the clicking of the bones popping. With one foot up on his toes, he sways one knee anxiously as he scans the room. He has been polite, completely himself and the camera-friendly persona that often would show up in magazines. He answered all questions thrown at him by your family who had chosen to try and speak to him.

With the questions now quiet and he has the chance to simply sit, relax and enjoy himself at the reception, this is when he feels the most nervous. He does not have the distraction he needs to feel comfortable, something she had not seen from him in a long time.  

“You do look gorgeous in that suit.” Lyra tries a compliment as she reaches for his hand.

His other hand rests on the table, elbow just off the edge for manners, his fingertips dangerously close to the pint glass that sits there.  

“You think it was a good choice?” He asks, turning to look at her, a small smile on his lips at her praise.  

The brunette nods emphatically. “Very much. I’ve always loved you in a suit. It’s just a shame I don’t get to see you in one more often.”

“I thought you liked my cape and unique wardrobe style?” He queries.  

“I do.” She nods, chuckling, as he knows perfectly well that she finds him gorgeous in whatever he deems to wear. “But the suit just hits differently baby. So different.”

Lyra balls her hand into a fist and pretends to bite it. He laughs and she relaxes ever so slightly.  

“Can I dance with you?” He asks, smiling.

His words surprised her. He had commented how much he loathed his etiquette lessons back when he was a kid. Not that she was any better at it. 

“What, here? Now?” Lyra responded.

Lance resists rolling his eyes. “No in the taxi on the way home. Of course, here. Are you turning me down?”

“No, of course, not. I’d love to dance with you.” She replies, smiling excitedly.

The man, in turn, grins before holding out his hand as he gets to his feet, waiting for his girlfriend to place hers into his. He keeps hold of her hand as he moves away from the table, leading her straight into the centre of the dancefloor.  

It feels as though everyone parts as the two Elite trainers take their place, his hand slips to her waist and the hand that is linked with hers raises high up to his shoulder.

Lance pulls his girlfriend closer, her cheek now nuzzling against his chest, and she breathes in the spiced scent of his aftershave contently.

It is not the dancing that she is used to, the crazy shapes she would throw in the evening at the kitchen when music is playing, and the food is cooking. It is not the way he would grin and laugh and sing along with whatever song was on at the time, being pulled into her craziness until the smoke alarm cheers the two of you on.  

The redhead sways her in perfect timing, with grace in his steps and light on the execution of the proper movements. It should be beautiful to watch from the folding chairs on the edge of the dancefloor.

He hums the song softly in her ear as Lyra all but melt into him. It is a song that he has once claimed to hate. He is not one to enjoy the lovey-dovey lovestruck type of songs, so common in weddings, and he would always scrunch his face up when anything like it would come on the radio.

Yet, here he was, fingers stroking delicately over his girlfriend’s lower back as he sings each of the words softly.  

“I knew you secretly liked these songs.” Lyra ribbed on him.

“Just because I know the words, does not mean I like these songs.” Lance counters, but she can hear the smile in his voice.  

“Sure, you tell yourself that.” She says, holding onto him a little more when he begins to pull away laughing.

His hand slips from hers, copying the other and linking his fingers together behind your back.

The woman looks her boyfriend deep into the eyes. “I'm glad you came here tonight.”

“I’m glad I asked you here tonight.”

“You are?”

He makes an affirmative noise as he grins at her, and they keep swinging to the rhythm when another slow song begins to play.

“Yeah. The food’s good and a free bar? Perfect.” He jokes and she chuckles. “It’s nice to see people. I can put real faces to their names.”

“I think they like knowing I’ve actually got someone and I’m not just making it up.”

“Ah, the famous invisible “I do have a boyfriend, you’ve just missed him,” line. How many other events have you pulled that line on while you’ve been with me?”

This silences Lyra. She should have expected this after the initial invite conversation but hearing it now, in such a spot that she cannot just slip away, she curses him silently.

He knows, his grin only widening further at the dark expression flooding her face. “Interesting.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want you there for them.” When he doesn’t say anything, she has no choice but to continue. “It’s just… You’re busy and I thought you’d want to spend your downtime doing something that you actually liked. Not spend time with far-slung members of my family whose only job is to make me glad I don’t talk to them that often.”

He considers this, eyes staring off above your head somewhere as he tongues the centre of his bottom lip before nodding to himself.

“That makes sense.” He concludes. “But if you had the right event, I’d hope that you would invite me."

“I would. In a heartbeat. I want you around the right people.” She smirked, wickedly. “I do like to show you off to my friends.”

“Yeah, but I get to show you off now on the dancefloor.” He dips her low. “So, who is the real winner here?”

*_*_*_*_*