Work Text
You are cordially invited to the marriage of our idiot friends
Helen Magnus
and
Nikola Tesla
on the 21st April, 2020.
Helen looked up from the “invitation” in her hand to James and John, both smiling smugly, and Nigel, not quite so smug but just as sarcastic, her eyebrow raised. “None of you are allowed anywhere near the wedding planner when she gets here,” she informed them, laughing, whilst Nikola rolled his eyes and threw a napkin at Nigel. “And which one of you prats decided I was an idiot friend?”All three held up their hands in surrender and shook their heads, until James pointed to Nigel, who pointed to John, who glared at James for a moment before kissing his forehead. “But you are,” he told them, reaching for his pint. “Marrying him when you could carry on being the Prosecco Queen.”“You may think I’d never live that down,” she told him, sipping her wine, “but I still have the crown at my father’s house.”“And she’s already crowned me her King,” Nikola added, putting down the wine he’d been drinking, casting a sly glance at her, grinning when she did, ignoring the groans from the others as he kissed her cheek.--
Before James and John became A Thing
“Here’s to finishing our first year without dying!” Helen toasted, champagne flute in hand as James and John tapped glasses with her. “And hopefully getting through the next three without dying either.”“Helen darling, your maths are atrocious! It’s two years left,” James corrected her, having glugged down his drink.“James, darling, dearest, I have…” Helen counted her fingers then frowned. “Damn, I have four years left to do. My degree is going to take forever!”“At least you’ll have us,” James told her, smiling. “You and John and -- where’s he gone?” he asked, bemused. Helen shrugged, but cast a quick glance around the room. “Really,” he carried on in a whisper, “where did you find him? He is delectable.”“James Watson, you keep your roving eyes off my boyfriend!” Helen ordered, half yelling (very glad it was noisy in the pub), smiling all the while.He pouted. “But he’s so tall,” he sighed. “You are a very lucky girl. How you’re not climbing him like a jungle gym every day I do not know.”Helen near spat her drink over the table. “James! I’m not nearly drunk enough to hear that sort of language from your mouth!”John plonked a bottle of prosecco next to Helen’s empty glass. “There you go darling.” He kissed the side of her head. “Congratulations getting through this first year,” he murmured, squeezing her shoulders in a hug. “Maybe later we can go sit in the park--” He didn’t finish the sentence, Helen’s tipsy giggles erupting as she shook her head.Many drinks and a game of truth or dare later, Helen sat herself on the bar, a bottle of prosecco in one hand, John’s head on her lap (asleep, with lipstick kisses all over his face), James dancing in front of her, the bar staff shaking their heads. “Ah Mandy, could you pour us all one last drink, please?”Mandy nodded reluctantly before having a drunk Helen reach over and hug her.“Thank you Mandy! The Prosecco Queen bows to your generosity.”Mandy would have been impressed if Helen didn’t chug the last glass and a half’s worth of drink straight from the bottle, slam it onto the bar then fall asleep on John.--
Long after the prosecco, but long before the wedding
“Nigel, I think I’m going to barf,” Nikola exclaimed, looking down at his friend, sprawled on the gurney.“What? Why?”“The woman of my dreams is at the work Christmas party and I’m here with you and your broken head and leg.”Nigel pulled a face. “Since when have you been delusional?” Nikola narrowed his eyes a fraction, confusion evident. “Woman of your dreams?” Nigel explained. “I thought you only dreamt about yourself.”Nikola was about to lambast Nigel when his phone beeped. Without checking he knew it would be Helen, his “mystery bird,” as Nigel had taken to calling her any time Nikola brought her up (which he’d done almost every day since James’ wedding). “She’s asking where I am,” he explained as he took a photo of the reception desk.Nigel shook his head. “I’ve changed my mind, she’s the delusional one, actually wanting to spend time with you.”Nikola wrapped an arm around Nigel’s shoulders and squeezed him into a hug. “You’re just jealous.”“Of you? Give over!” he replied, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. “I’m in a massive amount of pain after you rewired the kettle wrong!” he explained, pushing Nikola’s side with his arm. “And I still haven’t had a cuppa…”Nikola nodded, used to Nigel’s faux ire, “And I said I’d keep you--” Another ping. “Hey look, she’s asking if you’re ok,” he said, turning the camera on so it faced him and Nigel (who looked like he was slowly losing the will to live). Another snap, and Nikola muttered his message as he typed, “He’ll be fine. It’s the concussion they’re worried about. Nigel can’t remember things easily.”“I can’t remember things?! I don’t bloody care now, you’re both mad.” Nigel pouted and folded his arms over his chest. “Last time I use anything in that bloody flat.”Another ping. Nikola’s eyes went wide, his cheeks a flaming red.“What’d she say?” Nigel asked, trying to look at the screen.Nikola licked his lips, and raised his eyebrows, holding the phone close to his chest. “That isn’t for sharing, but I hope your doctor turns up soon.”***
Christmas Eve
“I thought we were having lunch?” Helen asked between fervid kisses just inside the door to Nikola’s flat.“Not that hungry,” he answered, kissing her throat, smirking as she moaned.“Thank fuck for that,” she muttered, her fingers tangled in his spiky hair.***“Who are you?” Helen stopped reaching for a mug and turned to the voice, feeling only a tad bit self conscious in her undies and Nikola’s shirt. “Hello?”The man nodded, but didn’t move. “Hello. Who are you?”Helen shook her head in confusion. “I’m Helen--”“Oh, Nikola’s dream boat!” The man grinned and suddenly became animated, walking around the kitchen and chatting as if they’d been friends forever. “I’m Nigel, don’t use the kettle - he still hasn’t fixed it. Where did he bump into you? Should’ve seen him pining away for you last night, night before last? When was the party again?”Helen smiled back, albeit slightly wary. “Flat mate with the concussion?”He beamed. “They gave me a clean bill of health. Is himself up yet? Tea’s there, pass it here.”Helen gave him the box of tea bags, cheeks slightly flushed. Nikola wasn’t quite up when she got out of bed, but he was getting there, if his grin was anything to go by.Nigel must’ve noticed something. “Ugh, say no more. Just tell him I’ll be back on the second, unless Frank gets caught up in something.”Helen nodded, bemused, as this whirling dervish of a man finished making them tea (using a camping kettle on the hob - “Sure he wants to electrocute me!”), ate his toast and checked his phone.“Damn, they’ve misplaced the order,” he muttered, heading to the door. “Nice meeting you love, keep him out of trouble.”In a blink he was gone. As she sipped her tea, she had only one thought, What is he on and where do I get some?--
At the wedding…
“When Helen told me she was seeing Nikola, my first thought was, ‘Really? The head prat at work?’--”“Only after you James,” Nikola interrupted genially, holding hands with Helen at the top table.The crowd, and James, laughed, before he carried on. “But since then I’ve got to know him outside of work. Yes, he’s still a prat, but…” He looked down at the pair, sat together, “he’s much more amenable now than he ever was then. Even if he calls my husband Lurch.” The last was a stage whisper, and again the crowd laughed. “Helen, Nikola, I can only wish you good luck on your journey together, and to remind you, Nikola, to never let Helen drive - we’d like to see you both in one piece, unlike the wall opposite the local swimming pool.” Helen rolled her eyes and shook her head, leaning over to explain the story to Nikola as the crowd laughed. “To the newlyweds, Helen and Nikola.”Everyone cheered and tapped their glasses. As James sat back down, John kissed his knuckles. “She’ll kill you for bringing up the wall.”James sipped his champagne, watching the pair kiss. “At least I didn’t tell everyone who really ran over the other neighbour’s bike.”***The band started playing. Helen looked around from her chair where she’d been sat talking with an old work colleague, looking for Nikola when she spotted him.With the microphone. She grinned. “The utter bastard.”“What…?” Abby asked, following Helen’s gaze."L is for the way you look at me," he crooned, smiling and singing to her. Helen covered her smile with her hands.“What?” Abby asked quietly again, as Helen wiped her eyes, glad she wore waterproof mascara that day.
“O is for the only one I see.”
“He sung this to me once,” Helen explained, as Nikola walked over, still singing. “Over the table at a kebab shop.”“V is very very, extraordinary,
E is even more than anyone that you adore,” he winked as she grabbed his hand, standing to join him as he serenaded her.--
At said kebab shop...
“Two in love can make it,” Nikola sang drunkenly to Helen, holding a wilting chip like a microphone. He looked down, eyes slightly manic.“Bloody hell Nik,” she laughed as he stood on his chair.“Take my heart but please don't break it.” His hand was outstretched, his face a permanent grin that Helen couldn’t help but smile back at. “Love was made for me and you!”“If I say yes, will you get down from there?” she laughed.“If you say yes, I’ll sing this at our wedding,” he promised.“Oh god,” she groaned, nodding. “I’ll still say yes.”--“I thought you said your first dance was gonna be Dusty,” Nigel told them after, the band’s usual singer taking over so Helen and Nikola could dance.“She told me it was a ruddy Muse cover,” James added. John nodded, having remembered the conversation with James after she left.“And have everyone waiting around expectantly? Is that something that sounds like us?” Helen asked, sipping her champagne, smiling sweetly.“She had a list of songs ready to use instead of the truth,” Nikola explained. “Did you tell anyone about Backstreet Boys or One Direction?” he asked, kissing her crown.“You had no idea he was going to sing!” Nigel figured out as James and John laughed at Helen’s ruse, his eyes wide. Nikola coughed his laugh as Helen ducked her head bashfully.“Didn’t think he’d actually go through with it,” she finally conceded. “He was eating cheesy chips at the time!”“Bloody hell Nikola, how drunk were you?”He only winked at Nigel before kissing Helen, his fingertips almost in her hair.--
Before the wedding but some time after Christmas Eve
“What on Earth? We’re two minutes late and you’re brawling? When Helen gets here she’s going to slap you silly!” James looked down at Nikola and John on the floor of the beer garden, both bloody, with bruises blossoming. “Both of you!” he added, when both opened their mouths to speak. James quirked his eyebrow (secretly channelling Helen whenever she got annoyed at him) and folded his arms.
“Bugger me Nik, what the hell did you do?” Nigel asked, stopping next to James. “Hiya Jim, John,” he added, nodding.
Nikola opened his mouth but James answered. “It doesn’t matter who did what, what matters is that Helen has a slight distraction when they explain why they look like they’ve each gone a round with Tyson.”
Nigel scrunched up his face, looking at James. “D’you reckon that’ll work?”
“No,” both John and Nikola answered, looking sheepishly at each other.
“Truce?” John offered, holding out his hand.
Nikola nodded, taking it. “Next time can you wait until after I’ve had a drink?”
“Why? Need help forgetting that I beat you?”
“Things taste better without a mouthful of blood… And you didn’t beat me.” They were on their feet now, posturing again.
James took a step forward, but was stopped by Nigel hand flopping against his chest. “Wait a minute. They’re both still a bit worked up,” he explained quietly.
The song on the speakers changed. John turned to James as Nikola’s cheeks flushed red. “Who put on The Time Warp?” they asked, Nikola grinning, John smiling brightly.
“I did.” They all turned to Helen, stood in the doorway with a cold smile, one hand on her hip, the other aloft with her phone grasped tightly. “And you all better have a bloody good reason why Mandy called me in a panic, telling me John and Nikola were fighting out here!”
***
They were locked out of the flat, a week later, waiting for Nikola and his key. The sky was clear, and they were far enough away from the streetlights to see the stars.
“Helen?”
“Yes Nigel?”
“Nikola’s a prat.”
Helen smiled. “I know.”
“John, of what I’ve seen, is a prat.”
She nodded, her voice cooling slightly. “He is.”
“Do you choose prats or…?”
“Very funny, Nigel,” she answered, pushing his shoulder.
He laughed. “I thought so.” Looking up at the stars, he tapped Helen’s knee with his palm. “John was probably trying to do the whole, ‘Don’t hurt my friend,’ thing, but you’re not helpless, are you, love?”
Helen sighed, staring up at Orion’s belt, “No, I’m not.”
“Thought not.” He was quiet, a long three minutes by her measure. “Don’t hurt him.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, knowing instinctively he meant Nikola. “I won’t.”
--
Back at the wedding
Helen and Nikola were sat at the bar. Correction, Nikola was sat at the bar. Helen was on it, sipping cherry brandy, her legs swinging freely. “We should probably go back to the party,” Nikola murmured, stealing Helen’s glass.
“Probably,” she replied, swigging from the bottle. “I’m perfectly happy here though.” Stroking his head, she poured him two fingers before sipping some more.
Nikola laughed a bit, shark grin evident, his eyes glittering as he drank in the vision in front of him. “You are stunning. A sublime creature of loveliness.”
“And you are drunk,” she laughed, watching as he clambered onto the bar, sitting next to her, holding her hand in his.
“This is where you’re hiding,” James said, sitting on Helen’s right, putting down his bottle of cider next to her thigh.
“Ding ding ding, give the man a prize!” Nikola called, kissing Helen’s palm when she rubbed his face.
“Play nice, Nikola,” she warned gently.
“I am, dear wife.” Giggling, he kissed her palm again. “I like that - wife.” Sighing contentedly, he lay down, using her leg as a pillow.
Carding her fingers through his hair, Helen laughed too. “So do I… husband.”
“Ugh, are they at the sappy romantics part of the night?” Nigel asked, collapsing on the floor with his bottle of Spitfire. “This is boring. Change the channel.”
“Gentlemen, lovely lady,” John greeted, sitting down on a stool behind the bar. “I’ve been sent by the father of the bride to find his daughter and ‘new fangled son in law’ for the cutting of the cake.”
“Cake?” Nikola asked, excited.
“Yes, Tesla, cake,” he sighed, sipping the dregs of his Guinness.
Nikola looked up adoringly at Helen. “I get to feed you.”
She hummed. “I do like using you as a spoon.”
“You just like sucking frosting off my fingers,” he whispered, sitting up and facing her, stroking her cheek.
“Not the only thing I like sucking,” she whispered back, kissing his fingertips.
“Get a room!” Nigel yelled from the floor.
--
A month later, flicking through the proofs the photographer had sent, both Helen and Nikola giggled at the final three moments.
Ash, the photographer, had caught the five of them on and around the bar, Nigel almost sparko on the floor (“It’s a miracle he stayed awake so long,” Nikola muttered, pointing him out in the photo), John and James barely holding themselves up whilst Helen and Nikola were busy staring into each others eyes, holding hands and smiling madly.
Then, cutting the cake. They looked almost respectable, except for Helen’s hand on Nikola’s arse (‘For balance!’ she claimed).
In the final picture of note, post cake-to-face smash, icing on their fingers, they stood torso to torso, Helen dabbing icing from Nikola’s nose as she sucked some from his fingertips. “You look almost ready to faint there,” she laughed, holding up the tablet so he could see.
“Faint?” Leaning over, brushing her lips lightly with a kiss, he replied, “And miss our first night as newlyweds? You’d’ve never let me live it down.”