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“Marriage?” Stockman gawked at the proposal Bishop had given him so casual, so nonchalantly, and promptly backed into the side of his glass terrarium. Sometimes he forgot he was only a brain in a jar - anything but marriage material. “You surely mean a joining of our great minds to create something larger than ourselves.”
“No.” Bishop clarified. He adjusted his glasses. “I mean it in the traditional sense. the human sense.” god, that word made him sick to his stomach.
"Why would you want to get married?" He growled in disgust, his head, or what was left of it anyway, hurt at the thought.
"Why would we not? We've been beside one another for over twenty years now. Of course I'd want to marry you." Bishop explained, offended by the question.
"What do you mean beside each other?" Stockman questioned, things didn't seem to make sense to him.
"I asked you out seven months after we started working together, do you... not remember that?"
"Excuse me?"
Bishop gasped, "Baxter... we've celebrated our anniversary every year."
this had to be some sort of a joke, a prank, something! Stockman would've known if he was with Bishop, wouldn't he? "Bishop, I do not know what you are talking about. Yes, we have celebrated our partnership yearly, but in a purely professional and platonic sense, yes? Perhaps there might have been a hint of something more, but those feelings were never indicative of anything more than a platonic relationship."
Bishop was still for nearly a whole minute, turning over what Stockman had said in his head until they reached a place of sense.
"Baxter." he started slowly, "Do you truly believe that platonic coworkers tell each other their secret fears and thoughts? That platonic coworkers spend every moment they can together, both out of work and in it? That platonic coworkers live together and even discus adopting kids together?"
Stockman was taken aback. Was he truly so bad at reading social cues that he hadn’t picked up on something as important as this? Had the constant pining he struggled to contain been not only accepted but reciprocated?
"Wait," said Stockman as the realization slowly set in. "If we've been together for so long, how come you've never bought me flowers?" He asked, absolutely offended.
"That's what you're focusing on?" Asked Bishop "You've never bought me any flowers either."
"Because I didn't know we were dating. If we're in a relationship I want those kinds of gestures from my partner. I deserve them. I am Baxter Stockman" he stressed to his apparent long time partner.
Bishop regarded him with crossed arms. "If flowers are what you want I can give you that. The best flowers this world has ever seen, genetically modified to be the most beautiful plants in existence, but these are high demands for someone that didn't even realize until the MARRIAGE PROPOSAL. That doesn't seem like the height of romance to me. It doesn't even seem like you actually care about our relationship" Bishop replied
Stockman floated in silence for a moment, "You know what?" He asked "I don't accept your marriage proposal because I am going to propose… to myself, and it will be the most romantic proposal you will ever see."
Bishop simply raised a single brow in challenge, ”Isn’t proposing to oneself simply making a choice?” He asked, though the question was purely rhetorical.
Stockman paused. “Yes, I am making the choice for myself to be married..to myself.”
“I see.”
“But it would be nice to have a companion.”
Bishop snorted. “And I am to be that companion in your self absorbed marriage?" He snapped.
“Yes.”Bishop’s steely features seemed to soften, “Your request has been granted.”
"Does this mean we're engaged?" Stockman took a look at him, and then at his own robotic body.
"Yeah, I suppose it does."
"I want a ring. A big ring that would fit on the metallic hand. And I want it shiny and bright."
“I don't object to that, I will get you one... But, why would you want to wear a ring? It's not like we have any friends or family to show it to." Bishop hummed curiously, wondering what it would look like, if there was a ring around the big rough battle armor stockman wore.
"I want to show it to the turtles."
"Excuse me?" Bishop's eyes widened, and it took a second before he regained his composure.
"I want them to see I'm engaged. And I want them at our wedding. We can attack them after the ceremony is over." Stockman explained seriously, talking like he was making any bit of sense.
"You want the turtles to be at our wedding?"
"Well excuse ME if those are the only people we hangout with. It may not be a friendly situation, but we do hangout at least bi-weekly, as we have for the past two decades."
He wasn't wrong. It didn't make any sense, but Stockman had a point. The turtles, plus the purple dragons, and the foot at times, were the only ones the two of them interacted with, outside of people who took orders from them.
"You know, they're never going to show up." He sighed loudly, staring at his now fiance.
"Oh they will, there is no way they're going to miss it." Stockman gave a knowing smile.
"Fine, I'll Email Donatello as soon as the cards are ready." Bishop gave in, this was going to be one heck of a wedding.