[A thousand years ago, he'd have any number of quips about men not taking their wedding rings off when they're angling for home base, but for right now, all he can manage is a sort of frown. He told Tom not to waste too much time getting cozy as Husband of the Future Year.

So she knows. One more thing he doesn't have to worry about dancing around- not that he was doing much dancing at all, to be honest, but whatever. One less thing to deal with.]

Nice deducting. Word of advice- careful on the bridesmaid dress picks in the future. Whoever talked you into those green sparking nightmares deserves to get shot.

[It's muttered darkly, absently, into the lip of a beer that he brings to his mouth again. He drinks deeply.

Still not over it.]