Sal's Universe, Las Vegas, Nevada.

[fire-in-flight.livejournal.com]

Sal sneezes, wondering if she doesn't have a slight allergy to Kurt's bamf-smoke, and looks around. Sure enough, it was Las Vegas. Fremont Street's overhead screens glittered with scenes of fireworks and flashing lights. It was energizing and exciting.

"Oh wow," she said, looking at the sheer mass of light around her. Port aux Basques it wasn't. This was an amazing place that was just alive.

And here was where she was going to get married.

The prospect was quite thrilling; but she wondered if this wasn't entirely hokey.

But all it took really was to turn to Kurt and simply look at him and know that this was exactly what she wanted. She could see the lights reflected in his monochromatic yet very expressive eyes.

"I don't even have a hairbrush," she muttered to herself, feeling suddenly very homely and in no fit state to be wed.

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[fire-in-flight.livejournal.com]

She blushed slightly and ran her fingers through her hair rapidly. She laughed inwardly at the fact that she was fussing over her appearance for once.

"So..."

The spectacle was overwhelming, and she felt tears of joy coming on. She blinked and bowed her head to hide them.

[random_xtras]

The silky soft fur on the back of Kurt's hand brushed her cheek. "Do you vant to buy your dress, or rent it?"

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She smiled, wiping her eyes surreptitiously. "Why don't I go all out n' buy it," she said. "Do it have t' be white, b'y? Apart from th' fact that I don't... qualify fer white, I just hates th' colour."

[random_xtras]

"Vhat ever colour you vant, meine Lieb," he murmured, pulling her close. "But you're alvays vhite to me."

[fire-in-flight.livejournal.com]

She smiles, hiding her furious blush in his shoulder. She raises her head suddenly, only noticing now that they're standing in front of a formal gown shop.

And in the window is what is possibly the most gorgeous red dress she's ever seen. She steps away from Kurt and goes to survey the garment with her hands up against the storefront window.

"I wants that one," she breathes.

[random_xtras]

He nodded, his tail curling thoughtfully. "Schön. Do you vant me to vait out here?"

[fire-in-flight.livejournal.com]

She grins. "I won't be long."

Sal disappears into the store and comes back out (almost an hour later) wearing the dress. Interestingly enough it fit like a glove: tight and loose in all the right places, and its taffeta overskirts shimmered in the wind. It had come to pass that the store catered to wedding-goers, and Sal's long, black hair is put up rather nicely (and someone put red glitter throughout it) and she's actually wearing makeup and four-inch heels.

She can't immediately see Kurt, so she talks to the night air instead. "They insisted," she said with a shrug. "Sorry I took so long."

[random_xtras]

There was a soft wolf whistle from overhead, and he let go the bracket he'd been hanging from by his tail to land in front of her and offer her a dozen red roses and a sheer taffeta wrap, which he wound around her lovingly and which in no way took from the charm of her gown. He was wearing a black tux, with a rose pinned to the lapel. "It vas only a heartbeat, mein Leib."

[fire-in-flight.livejournal.com]

Sal looks up in time to see him descend, and her eyes go wide. She'd never seen him dressed up this way before, and she had to admit it was very... attractive. He gives her the flowers and wraps her in the fabric. The taffeta clings to her skin and offers protection against the slightly cool winter breeze.

She'd never been doted on in this way before. She kind of liked it.

"Flowers." She sniffs the roses delicately. "I've never gotten flowers before." She lifts her head and smiles widely. "Nor have I gotten a dress and a very good-looking guy about t' marry me before."

[random_xtras]

"Never gotten flowers?" His lean face showed shock as he put an arm around her shoulders.

[fire-in-flight.livejournal.com]

She smiles. "Never."

[random_xtras]

"I'll have to make up for that." He led her down to the curb, where a limo sat with a guy holding open the door.