thecatinahat | (no subject)

He smiles, secure and happy in the knowledge that he will also have a ring to go along with hers, something that isn't chintzy and fake. He takes the food and sets it all on the table, popping some of it past his lips. "Did you think about what your hips will let us do?"

She nibbles more than anything else, an unusual action for her as she's far more likely to shovel food past her mouth at any given moment. It's just that she's so distracted by the ring on her finger that she can't focus too much on her food. She's becoming a magpie, just like he is.

"I have a few ideas," she allows, smirking.

"Yes? Good," Cougar replies, that mischievous glint impossible to put out from where it's sparkling in his eyes as he settles down into his chair at their table. "We will have to see if we can do them all before midnight."

He picks up a fork. "For when tomorrow starts and I can't see you."

"Midnight?" She frowns at him, then scoffs and kicks him under the table. "Cougar. You can't be serious." They've been living together for years, basically, fake married for months, and he's going to try and whip out tradition on her now? No way.

He winces in pain, giving her a look that says he's plenty serious. "Bad luck," he insists sharply, and they've had their share of it. It might be old-fashioned, but Cougar is still superstitious enough to want to obey some of the rules. "I proposed, tomorrow we get married. A groom can't see his bride before the wedding."

It's true that they've had more than enough bad luck to last several lifetimes, but that doesn't mean she wants not to see him at all tomorrow. "But not for the whole day," she protests. "Did you talk to the Padre? When's the ceremony?"

"Midnight, until 3PM. The wedding," he clarifies firmly, because he has talked to the Father and has arranged the event. "I don't want to see you, because I want to be surprised when I see you, right before you become my wife," he says very seriously, starting to dig into the food.

"I can't believe you," she whines, but it's fond and she's laughing at him anyway, shifting in her seat so that she can prop her feet up in his lap. "Alright, fine. But then dinner better be fast."

Cougar inhales sharply when her feet suddenly find a place in his lap, because he knows that from here, it's only going to get harder for him. He's halfway through his plate, which is good, but he knows Jake can be plenty easing and mischievous when she gets her way.

"Tradition," he insists again, thinking it's very important. "Will make you more beautiful when I see you."

Oh, she can be teasing, alright. Footsie of this caliber has always seemed a little silly to her, but if it's all she's got right now, she's going to work with it. She wiggles around until she can press her toes teasingly against his crotch, kneading gently and quirking her eyebrows at him in challenge.

"If it's that important to you," she starts, setting her fork down to signify that it's important to her too, "then alright. I'll kick you out of the house at midnight and we won't see each other again until three."

Cougar hurries to eat more when she starts to work at him with her toes, knowing that fairly soon, he's not going to have much of a chance to do anything but be putty in her hands -- or toes, in this instance. "I'll go stay with Pooch," he says with a nod of his head. "And then go find a proper suit to marry you in."

"He's going to want to come to the wedding," she points out logically, nibbling at her food and enjoying watching the look on his face as he hurries to eat before he gets too distracted. "Unless you tell him we're fighting, and then he might try to mediate. Without Jolene around to keep him busy, I think he's using us as his substitute relationship."

"Just tell him you caught a cold and snore," Cougar says with a shrug. "He'll believe it. You can snore very loudly when sick," he reminds her, seeing as the whole team knows that. He digs into the food a little more, grinning as he stares at her and thinks of less than twenty-four hours away when she'll be his wife.

"Besides, he'll understand later, when we tell him."

"No worse than you do," she protests, poking him in the stomach with her toes. It's a good idea, though. She can hold her nose and go all nasally if Pooch calls to check on her, but she's a miserable jerk when she's sick, so people should know better than try to come visit.

"He'll be pissed that we hid it from him."

He slides his hand down to start rubbing his fingers over her feet, digging his thumb into the arch to massage it. "He'll understand, later," is all Cougar has to say on the topic. Pooch will only tell the others and the last thing he wants to deal with is the opinions of the Losers. "We will tell him that he and Jolene inspired us."

Oh. A foot massage is a great distraction, in her opinion, and the pleased hum she lets out should make that pretty clear, as is the way she slumps a little in her seat to make it easier for him to rub her feet. "Except we were all invited to their wedding," she points out. It felt like the whole state was invited to Pooch and Jolene's wedding.

Cougar shrugs, still not intending to change their plans. "Will have a party when everything is over," he says. "Pooch can come then." He slides his other hand down now that the food is done, both palms sliding over Jensen's feet and massaging each part from the bunions to the arch to the heel.

"Yeah, alright," she agrees, pushing away her plate and turning all her attention to the way Cougar massages the soles of her feet. She's got high arches, which means she's prone to getting aches and pains, so Cougar's willingness to rub her feet at the drop of a hat — so to speak — is amazing. She purrs softly, a quiet, satisfied hum, and flexes her toes. "I like this marriage thing."

"Not married yet," Cougar argues, his hand starting to slide up her ankle where he can start work on the muscles there before adjusting to her calf. "Tomorrow," he clarifies. "After you find me a ring and I go to confession, when we don't see each other for the day."