As the Berserker watched his other half as it were down what was left in the flask he felt it was a more meaningful gesture then it appeared. Jamie was then reminded of an old pagan tradition, that of newlyweds sharing a drink from the same cup. The VP then shrugged it away. The bond was after all its own kind of marriage, perhaps not in the romantic sense but in other ways. Though he'd not deny there was a part of him that found Meredith attractive on a purely physical level. The scarred and tattoed street fighter wondered though how she'd accept his lifestyle.
That thought made Jamie pause for a second. Never before had he cared what another had thought of his chosen path. He was an outlaw biker that lived only for the thrill of freedom. Now though his life belonged to another or was at least now tied up with anothers. It was not a wholly unpleasant feeling, this thought of facing life standing besides more then his brothers in arms. It was one completely foreign to the Berserker though.
Was it her pretty face Jamie wondered. But he quickly dismissed it. He had known many beautiful women and none of them had been more then passing fancies.
The Vice President of the Southside Demons Motorcycle Club then laughed at the thought he was giving the subject. Nothing mattered in the end but the next breath, the next drink, and the next bit of fun. That being said Jamie looked Meredith over with gaze that would speak volumes even to a nun.
" Well as for what comes next I've got an idea or two o chosen of Apollo. " The Berserker replied to her question with a little crooked smile that spoke loud and clear enough for even the blind to understand. " First things first, I think if this bond thing is all they said its going to be it's time to meet the family. The Southside Demons MC has its clubhouse in South Bronx just off the Deegan and Bruckner. We got plenty of everything and the place is always jumping. Should be a good party going right now, Sean made a lot of cash from my fight earlier tonight. Why anyone would still bet against me is confusing as hell. But hey the club is making a killing. If you want ya can catch a ride back with me or come on your own. Or hell not at all if that floats ya boat. But me and the MC are a package deal. Either you accept them or this relationship is going to end quickly. I am sure Ares would get a kick out of that. "
Without waiting for her answer the Vice President of the Southside Demons Motorcycle Club strode away from his bonded and indeed out of the coffee shop entirely. Jamie had enough of a place that had no real excitement. Clearing the doors he strode to edge of the sidewalk. The grey cement, familiar as his own heart beat. He had after all spent his childhood wandering them. The pavement upon which his bike lay atop the never ending path of his life.
Smooth real smooth skreb. Lets give a woman you've known all of five minutes an ultimatum. What is this some emo vampire novel?
You tell me Ares, why the hell does it feel like she's in my head?
It's cause she is in a way. Your bonded to her and she to you. It'll allow you to always be close even when the physical distance between you both is great. Your average soldier would kill to be that close to their loved one.
The average soldier gets to chose their spouse.
But ya not average skreb, lift up that bike above your head. Hold it there with one hand and load a fresh mag into that 1911 .45 ya keep at the same time.
Failing to see what that would prove aside from his strength and reflexes Jamie nonetheless complied with Ares's request. Lifting the Harley Davidson Softail Fatboy Lo over his head with one hand he fished the pistol out of the concealed holster in the lining of his leather jacket. Racking the slide and hitting the mag release the Beserker emptied it, the bullet and full mag hitting the ground with a light tinkling. Throwing the pistol in the air he then fished out a spare mag. Throwing that about a foot in the air Jamie then caught the descending firearm. Twisting it so the handle hung pointed up in the air just in time to let the mag slide in. Spinning it the Southside Demon racked the slide, the 1911 .45 was now locked and loaded.