Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2025-08-10
Updated:
2025-08-25
Words:
6,249
Chapters:
2/?
Comments:
72
Kudos:
110
Bookmarks:
10
Hits:
1,531

Waking Up in Vegas

Summary:

After a drunken night out in Casino Park for Rouge's bachelorette party, Amy Rose wakes up to find that she is married to Shadow the Hedgehog.

Chapter 1: You gotta help me out, it's all a blur last night

Notes:

Hi again everyone! It's been a while since I've posted on AO3.

I've been busy turning my other fic, Of Shadows and Roses, into a real book... but honestly, I've been missing the Shadamy community like crazy. So, I decided to whip together a little fanfic to do on the side. It's going to be a fairly light, fun, easy read - nothing too strenuous or time-consuming to write (hopefully). I hope you like it!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The first thing I notice when I wake up is that I have a monster of a headache.

It feels like someone is bonking my head repeatedly with my Piko Piko Hammer. Bonk. Bonk. Bonk.

In fact, that’s not the only thing wrong. I feel really nauseous. My mouth is drier than Dusty Desert in the summer. And the strangest thing of all is that I’m not in my own bed, or even in my own room. How comes I’m not in my own room?

I squeeze my eyes shut – even light feels unpleasant right now – and try to remember what in the world happened last night.

It comes to me in bits and pieces. How Rouge got engaged to Knuckles. How Rouge said she wanted to go on vacation to Casino Park for her bachelorette party. How Rouge insisted that all of us – not just me and Rouge but Sonic and Tails and Knuckles and Shadow – go on a big night out in the casino.

I can remember the events leading up to last night well enough. I just can’t remember last night.

The last thing I recall is Rouge handing me a cocktail called the Angel Island Iced Tea. And then… Nothing. Zilch. Nada.

Holy Chaos. Did I get blackout drunk?

I open my eyes again – and nearly jump out of my skin when I see that I’m not alone.

There, in the hotel room with me, is none other than Shadow the Hedgehog.

He’s making a coffee with his back turned to me, but I can tell it’s him by his unmistakeable black-and-red fur. Yet before I can close my eyes and pretend I’m asleep while I piece together what on earth happened last night, Shadow turns around. His ruby-red eyes meet my own.

“Good morning,” he says stiffly.

“Um,” I respond awkwardly. “Morning, Shadow.”

He hands me the cup of coffee and I take a sip. Holy Chaos, that’s good. I can feel my headache dissipating already.

Still, I have other problems. Like, why the hell have I just woken up in a hotel room with Shadow?

“How did you sleep?”

“I slept well, thank you,” I say. “I think.” I actually have no idea if I slept well or not. I can’t remember anything.

I sip my coffee as an excuse to avoid talking. I need to figure out what the heck happened last night.

OK, so it’s clear that I had one too many cocktails, got blackout drunk, and am now saddled with a serious hangover. That much is obvious. The question that’s now on my mind is how I ended up waking up in a hotel room with Shadow.

There is one explanation…

But I refuse to entertain that. There’s no way. For one, I’m madly in love with Sonic. I’ll admit that Shadow is smoking hot. Like, there’s no denying that. But the only reason Shadow is hot is because he looks like Sonic. Their resemblance to one another is well-documented.

Besides, there’s no way someone like Shadow would have a one-night stand. He’s too… honourable. He was created in the fifties and it shows. He wouldn’t have sex with someone unless he was married to them first.

He probably just wanted to take care of me because I was so drunk, I thought to myself. Yes, that’ll be it. I was really drunk and stumbling around and projectile vomiting everywhere, and Shadow didn’t want me to fall down a flight of steps and break my neck and die, so he escorted me safely back to the room and put me to bed and stayed with me overnight to make sure that I didn’t choke on vomit in my sleep. And he was really gentlemanly and there was absolutely no funny business involved whatsoever.

But. Still. Better to make sure.

You know. Just in case.

“Um, Shadow…” I begin quietly. “Just to confirm, we didn’t… you know…” – I shoot him a significant look – “did we?”

He stares at me blankly. “Didn’t do what?”

Chaos. Did he really need me to spell it out?

“You know. Rolling in the hay. Doing the devil’s dance. Making love.”

“I don’t know what that means,” he says flatly.

Chaos. He was created in the fifties and it shows.

“Shadow,” I hiss – as if keeping my voice to a whisper would somehow make it less real – “did we have sex last night?”

“No,” Shadow responds – and I feel relieved for approximately 0.5 seconds until he adds, “Although sexual intercourse is traditional for a married couple on their wedding night, you fell asleep before any relations could take place.”

What?

What?

Married couple?

Wedding night?

What in the everlasting hell is Shadow talking about?

“Shadow,” I say as sweetly as I can muster, “what in the everlasting hell are you talking about?”

Shadow frowns at me. He looks confused. “I’m referring to the fact that we got married last night.”

My nausea intensifies. It feels like the floor is disappearing underneath me, and I don’t know if it’s because of my hangover or what Shadow had just told me.

“Shadow,” I laugh – I have to laugh, because if I don’t I’ll cry – “don’t be ridiculous. We didn’t get married last night. We can’t have gotten married last night.”

“We did,” he says matter-of-factly. “Here, in Casino Park. It’s famously a popular destination for weddings.”

I draw a hand to my mouth. No.

“Rose?” Shadow says quietly. “You said all you wanted was to do was marry and have children, and you were tired of waiting for Sonic to make his mind up.” I can see confusion in his eyes – and hurt. “You said you liked me.”

“Shadow, I…” I bite back the bile I can feel rising in my throat. “Shadow, I’m sorry, but you’ve gotten the wrong end of the stick. I mean, I do want to get married and have children, and I am tired of waiting for Sonic to make his mind up, but…” I lift my gaze to meet his. “I can’t remember what happened. I must have been drunk, or…”

“Drunk?” Shadow tilts his head, his brow furrowed. As if he doesn’t know what I mean.

“I don’t know. But what I do know is…” I swallow. “Shadow, I think you’re really nice, and of course I like you, but I’m not… I don’t…”

I don’t like you in that way. The unspoken words hover in the air, cruel and unretractable, like thorns.

Shadow takes a step backwards, as if I’ve physically slapped him. The look of pain that crosses his face makes me feel awful.

Then something changes. His eyes harden. His jaw stiffens. His fist tightens around the handle of the mug he’s holding and he turns his back to me. I can see the quills of his back prickling – the telltale sign of a hedgehog in distress.

“Well, it’s done now.” His voice is cold. “Whether you like it or not, I am your husband, and you are my wife.”

I ignore the wave of nausea that washes over me, even stronger than before. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that coffee. I don’t think I’m capable of keeping anything down right now.

“I am not your wife.” I was becoming angry now. “I am very much single. In fact, being single is pretty much my defining trait at this point. Everyone knows how much I’m in love with Sonic and how tragically uninterested he is in me. And – oh my god – Rouge put you up to this, didn’t she? That’s it. This is all some kind of big practical joke, isn’t it? She thought it would be totally hilarious if you pretended we got married last night. There’s probably a secret camera in here playing a livestream of my every reaction. Well, here’s the crash-out you wanted, Rouge! I hope you’re laughing your ass off right now. You might find it funny but I don’t. I bet any moment now she’s going to walk in and tell me that…”

“Look at your left hand,” Shadow cuts in bluntly.

My rant interrupted, I do as Shadow says.

There, on my ring finger, is a big, fat, gold band.

Then the memories come crashing back like a tidal wave.

Me drunkenly crying into my cocktail, asking why I can’t find seem to find a big strong hedgehog to take care of me while Shadow pats my back awkwardly.

Me running my fingers flirtatiously through Shadow’s white chest fur while slurring, ‘You know, you’re pretty cute…’ 

Me standing at the altar with Shadow’s hands in mine, tilting my head up to meet his lips as the registrar says, ‘You may now kiss the bride…’

The sick feeling in my stomach becomes too much to bear.

“Shadow," I protest desperately, "we can’t be married - I’m only – you’re only – blegh!”

I keel over and vomit on the hotel room carpet. 

“I’ll fetch you a bucket,” my husband growls.

I find it oddly romantic.

I stumble out of the hotel room, my body lurching into the wall as I fight back yet another wave of nausea. I need to find a housekeeper so I can inform them of the mess I’ve just made in the hotel room. Actually, I need to find a bathroom first. It would be good if I could get my barf into the toilet this time.

Each landmark I pass seems to bring back unwelcome memories. Dancing on tables. Singing karaoke to Hot Honey. Telling Tails over margheritas that I was so proud of the man he’d become.

I find Rouge getting breakfast in the hotel restaurant and immediately make a beeline for her. Rouge is a woman with her life together. Rouge will know what to do. Somehow she looks fresh-faced and beautiful and not at all like someone who was slamming vodka martinis on repeat until the early hours of the morning. She looks someone who did their skincare routine, listened to a podcast and went to bed at 9:00 pm.

“Rouge,” I hiss as soon as she comes within earshot. “You have to help me. The wildest thing happened last night. Apparently I…”

The graceful white bat slowly turns to look at me, her eyebrow raised, and my heart sinks. She looks seriously unimpressed.

“Well, well, well,” she drawls, swishing the mimosa she’s holding in her glass, “if it isn’t the drunken newlywed, crawling out of bed to no doubt seek my help. Thanks for upstaging me at my own bachelorette party. What next? Are you going to announce your pregnancy on my wedding day?”

“Well, that’s just the thing,” I say urgently. “I just woke up in Shadow’s hotel room. He says we’re married!”

“Yes,” she says drily. “Congratulations. 365 days in a year, yet you chose to do it on the day we’re supposed to be celebrating my wedding.”

“No, you don’t understand – I didn’t mean to marry Shadow – I can’t be married to him. I –”

“Mimosa?” says one of the hotel staff – a little robot holding a tray of drinks.

I get a whiff of the alcohol and try not to barf. “No thanks,” I choke out. The robot moves on, and I turn back to Rouge. “As I was saying,” I carry on, “it was a mistake. I was drunk, okay? You know I would never be interested in Shadow. Like, hello? My whole thing is that I’m interested in Sonic!”

“I certainly hope you didn’t tell that to him this morning,” Rouge says with an edge to her voice.

“Um,” I say. “Well.”

“Ouch,” Rouge says. “Fantastic. That’ll be another man that I have to spend all day cheering up. As if I didn’t have enough on my plate after what happened to Knuckles.”

“Wait,” I say, tilting my head to the side. “What happened to Knuckles?”

I suddenly have a flashback of Knuckles sitting at the poker table, his head in his ginormous hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I lost it!” he was wailing. “I lost it!”

“Knuckles gambled away the Master Emerald,” Rouge says curtly. “The Master Emerald! It was half the reason I even decided to marry that numbskull, and now it’s gone. Please excuse me if I’m not particularly interested in your marital drama right now.”

“God – um…” I put a hand awkwardly on the back of my neck. “Sorry, Rouge. That’s awful. Poor Knuckles must be devastated.”

“Poor Knuckles?” Rouge cries. “What about poor me? I was this close to finally getting the Master Emerald and that idiot lost it in a game of cards! It’s probably in the hands of some bimbo who’s going to crush it up into shards and turn it into mediocre jewellery on her Etsy store. Now I have to spend the rest of my vacation tracking it down and stealing it back. And it’s supposed to be my bachelorette.”

I stand there awkwardly, not really sure what to say. I’m relieved when another robot mopping the floor passes by us.

“Excuse me!” I say brightly. “I just wanted to let you know that I vomited on the carpet in Room 13.”

The robot lifts its head and fixes me with a hard stare. Like, as far as a robot is capable of fixing someone with a hard stare.

“Not on purpose,” I add quickly. “I missed the bathroom. I was, um, unwell. Think I ate a bad oyster.”

“There’s a 3000 ring surcharge for room damage,” the robot says coldly.

My heart sinks. 3000 rings? I don’t have that kind of money! Besides, what kind of carpet cleaning costs 3000 rings? Whatever happened to a good old scrub with white vinegar and warm water?

To my surprise, Rouge flaps her hand nonchalantly at the janitor. “Yeah, whatever,” she drawls. “She’ll pay it out of her winnings.”

I snap my head sharply towards Rouge. “Winnings? What winnings?”

That’s when I notice the entourage of staff heading my way. Their arms are loaded with bags upon bags that jingle as they move. I see two large robots carrying a chest with obvious effort; they set it down at my feet with a thud. Half curiously, half tentatively, I open the chest a crack and take a peek.

Inside is thousands upon thousands of rings. Heaps of rings. More rings than I’ve ever seen before in my life. And they’re still coming.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Rouge fixes me with a wry smile. “You won the Casino Park jackpot. You’re a millionaire.”

Notes:

Let me know what you thought! I know first person stories can be a little controversial, but I wanted to try something different.

Chapter 2: Spare me your freaking dirty looks now, don't blame me

Notes:

Thanks so much to everyone who took the time to comment on the last chapter! A few of you suggested some really good ideas which I'm probably going to incorporate into the story, so do let me know if you have any other ideas or things you'd like to see in the fic. I'm trying to keep it low-effort by not planning too far ahead, so there's plenty of room to incorporate new things.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

As soon as I’m over the worst of my hangover and can keep more than a glass of water down without throwing up, I march down to the registrar’s office to demand a divorce. 

Shadow follows me, looking agitated. “I don’t want to get divorced,” he tells me. “I took a vow, Rose. I promised to hold and protect you for better, for worse – for richer, for poorer.”

I try to quicken my pace, but it’s no use – with his air shoes, he’s nearly as fast as Sonic. His walking speed is pretty much my running speed. “For richer, for poorer, huh?” I snort. “That’s pretty convenient. I’m sure your enthusiasm to stay married to be has nothing at all to do with the fact I’ve just won a million rings."

“It doesn’t!” he snarls, with a ferocity that surprises even me. “I promised to love and to cherish you until death do us part. Not until one day later.”

I ignore him – until Shadow seizes my wrist, forcing me to stop in my tracks.

He meets my gaze.

“You took a vow too, Rose,” he says quietly.

For a moment I feel teensy-tiny bad. It seems like Shadow is… actually really excited to be married to me.

I’m a little surprised, honestly. Shadow has never said anything to suggest that he likes me more than a friend. Now I think about it, he’s never said anything to suggest he even likes me as a friend. He’s always so cold and aloof. I’m still emotionally traumatised from the time I hugged him thinking he was Sonic and didn’t get a hug back. Like, damn, that’s two hedgehogs who have rejected me now.

I force myself to push away my guilt. “This isn’t the 1950s anymore, Shadow,” I snap. “Smoking isn’t cool, houses are expensive, and people get divorced.”

I wrench my arm away and continue storming towards the registry office. Shadow pauses for a moment, looking taken aback; after a few moments, I hear him follow me again.

The registrar’s office is a small room on the hotel grounds, tucked away from the glitz and glamour of Casino Park. I find the registrar, a bear, leaning back in his desk chair, counting his rings. My rings, I realise with a stab of indignation. Just how much did I pay him to marry us?  

I channel my inner Karen energy and slam my hands on the desk. “I want a refund,” I declare dramatically.

The bear gives me an amused glance. “A refund?”

“Um,” I say. “A divorce. An annulment. Whatever. You married us yesterday and now I want out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the bear hums, not sounding very sorry at all. “Allow me one moment to fetch your paperwork.”

With agonising slowness he sets aside his bag of rings and scoots his desk chair over to the cabinet. He rummages around for a moment before retrieving a folder of papers.

“Here we are,” he says. “The recent marriage between Shadow and Amy Robotnik, formerly Amy Rose.”

“I’m sorry,” I splutter. “Amy Robotnik?” I turn to Shadow in disbelief. “You made me take the name Amy Robotnik?” 

“Of course,” Shadow responds tersely. “That is traditionally what happens when a man takes a woman as his wife.”

“I didn’t even know your last name was Robotnik!”

“Of course it is. You know I was created by Gerald Robotnik.”

“Yes, but…” – I gesture vaguely – “isn’t Black Doom, like, your dad or something?”

Shadow looks affronted. “Gerald Robotnik used Black Doom’s blood when he created me,” he snarls. “That does not make him my father.”

“Right,” I say. “Sorry. It’s just…” I pull a face. “Did you really have to make me share a name with Doctor Eggman?”

“My name is a source of pride,” Shadow says defensively. His voice is quieter when he adds, “It was Maria’s last name, too.”

The registrar gives a pointed little ‘Ahem’. I abandon my conversation with Shadow and turn back to the bear.

“There is the option of annulment,” he says gingerly. “Of course, there are certain conditions you must meet in order for that to apply…”

I prick my ears eagerly. “Like what?”

“Well…” The bear clears his throat again and shuffles his papers. “The main one is that the marriage must be unconsummated.”

Unconsummated.

He’s saying that I can undo the marriage so long as I haven’t had sex with Shadow.

The relief I feel is overwhelming. I haven’t slept with Shadow. He was very clear about that when I woke up this morning.

That means I can annul the marriage. I’ll annul the marriage and get rid of my horrible new last name and put this entire mess behind me. I’ll go back to chasing Sonic, the hedgehog I actually want to marry, and everything will be as it was. It’ll be a little bit awkward between me and Shadow for a while, but he’ll eventually get over it and we’ll look back fondly on this memory and laugh. “Haha, can you remember when we got totally drunk and married each other in Casino Park? What were we thinking?!” 

“Perfect,” I laugh, running my hand through my bangs. “We never consummated the marriage, so we’ll just get an annulment. Where do I sign? Do I get my money back?”

“There is,” the bear continues, “one tiny little problem with that option.”

I force myself to keep my smile plastered on my face. “Oh?” I say. “And what’s that?”

The registrar swivels around and takes a remote out of his desk drawer. He presses a button; then there’s a whirring sound before the wall panel behind him falls away to reveal a dozen little screens. Each tiny monitor shows a different location in the hotel: the reception desk; the restaurant; the pool. CCTV, I realise.

The bear presses another button and the images of the screen begin to move in reverse. He’s rewinding it. He suddenly leans forward and hits ‘play’.

“If you look there, my dear,” he says, pointing at a screen near the top right.

A blurry figure walks down a carpeted hallway of hotel rooms. No, make that two figures – it’s a man carrying a woman in his arms. The man looks pretty hot in a suit, but the woman is wearing the most hideous white dress I have ever seen in my entire life. Chaos, she looks like a freaking marshmallow. Who let her leave the house wearing that? Embarrassing.

I squint at the screen as the image becomes clearer. Then my heart sinks when I realise it’s a video of me and Shadow.

To my credit, I actually look quite pretty when you disregard the dress. Like, that’s one small silver lining. And strangely enough I look… happy. I have a big smile on my face, and my bouquet is raised triumphantly in the air. Even Shadow is smiling.

Shadow swipes his card and we disappear into the room. The bear freezes it on that frame.

“There,” the bear says, “is the problem.”

I frown. “Are you talking about my wedding dress? I admit it’s not particularly flattering, but…”

“I am referring to the indisputable evidence of the two of you entering a hotel room together. On your wedding night.” The bear shoots me a knowing look. “Unchaperoned.”

 “I mean – I know how it looks,” I stammer. “Believe me, I had the same thought when I woke up this morning in Shadow’s bed. But we didn’t have sex or anything.” The bear raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “We didn’t.”

“Hm,” the bear says.

“I swear we didn’t!” I protest. I feel my quills beginning to bristle in frustration. “Shadow, tell him.”

Shadow is standing with his arms folded, looking both unhappy and deeply uncomfortable. I notice his muzzle is flushed red.

He looks away with a scoff. “We didn’t,” he agrees.

I look back at the bear triumphantly. “See?”

The bear shuffles his papers. “While I am sure you are telling the truth, Mrs. Robotnik,” – I cringe at the use of the name – “I am afraid I cannot, in good faith, annul your marriage on the grounds it was unconsummated.”

I sigh and bury my face in my hands.

Right. That didn’t work. But that isn’t the only option, right? There has to be some other way out of this.

“What about a divorce?” I say flatly.

“A divorce is the other option,” the bear concedes. My ears prick hopefully. “Of course, you would need to pay – ahem – a small fee of ten thousand rings to process the paperwork.”

“I’ll do it,” I say immediately. Damn, being rich is awesome.

“Not so hasty, now,” the bear chides, waggling his finger. “Under the laws of the Casino Park Zone, you cannot legally begin divorce proceedings until you have been married at least one year.”

“One year?” I repeat, appalled. “You’re saying I have to stay married to Shadow for a whole year?”

“One year,” the bear repeats. “That is the law, Mrs Robotnik. I’m afraid my hands are tied.”

I can feel panic beginning to set in. My heart pounds like crazy. My quills begin to prickle. I can hear my blood roaring in my ears.

“No,” I say, my voice beginning to rise in anger. “No, this isn’t right. I can’t stay married for a year. I can’t be married in the first place.” I point a finger at him. “I was drunk. You hear? I was drunk, and you took advantage of me and married me anyway because you wanted my rings. But everyone knows a drunk woman can’t consent.” A sliver of confidence creeps into my tone. “I didn’t consent to this marriage. That means it’s legally void. Understand? You can’t say I’m married if I was drunk when I signed the marriage papers.”

“Actually,” the bear says, “I can.”

He shows me my marriage certificate and taps at the tiny speck of small print at the bottom of the page with his pen. Casino Park accepts no liability for drunkenness, poor decisions or regret.

I lose it. “YOU SLIMY LITTLE FLEABAG!” I scream. “YOU MANGE-RIDDEN FURBALL! I SWEAR TO CHAOS I’M GOING TO REPORT YOU. I’M AMY FREAKING ROSE –”

 “Amy Robotnik.”

“I’M WORLD-FAMOUS FOR BEING THE HEROINE OF TEAM ROSE AND I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW I HAVE TWO MILLION FOLLOWERS ON INSTAGRAM. I WILL TELL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM WHAT AN AWFUL, SLEAZY –”  

Shadow quietly drags me out of the room.

The bear now out of sight, my anger turns to the hedgehog in front of me. “And you,” I snarl, jabbing my finger at the white fur of his chest. “You’re just as bad! I know you were created in the 1950s, but have you ever heard of a little thing called consent?!”

“Consent?” Shadow snarled back. “You were the one who said you wanted to marry me!”

“I WAS DRUNK!”

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN!”

“UGH!” I throw my arms up in the air. “I can’t with you right now. I literally can’t.” I turn on my heel. “I’m going back to the hotel room.”

I begin to march away – then, on a sudden whim, I barge back into the registrar’s office. I practically hurl a purse full of rings at him; he catches it awkwardly and blinks up at me, surprised.

“That’s to process our name change,” I snarl. “If we’re going to stay married for a year, there is no way in hell I’m sharing a name with Doctor Eggman. From now on, we’ll be known as Mr and Mrs Rose.”

Shadow follows me all the way back to the hotel room. I can tell that he’s still mad – his teeth are gritted, and I can see his little fang poking out – but he’s at least trying to make an effort to resolve things. Too bad I’m not in the mood to listen.

“Rose, please,” he says, his ears flattened in exasperation. “Can we at least talk about this?”

I ignore him and storm on ahead. I approach the door of my hotel room – not Shadow’s – and swipe the key card. What a day! I can’t wait to finally have some solitude so I can mope around in peace. Maybe I’ll put on Selling Station Square and order some ice cream to my room through the room service. I am a millionaire now, after all. Then I’ll –

I freeze.

Tossed haphazardly on the floor are a pair of heels. And they aren’t mine.

Someone’s in my hotel room.

“Rose?” I hear Shadow say softly behind me. “Is everything all right?”

I ignore him and crouch down to inspect the shoes. Pink. Glittery. Garish. They look like just the sort of thing to be worn by…

“Welcome back, newlyweds,” calls Rouge in her usual silky tone. “I’m out on the balcony.”

I follow the voice out to the balcony and find Rouge sprawled on a little wicker chair, a pina colada in her hand. She’s wearing a sheer white cover-up, which ironically does very little to cover up the bright pink bikini visible underneath. I notice Shadow’s gaze fall on her generous cleavage, straining hard against the skimpy string bikini top. I find that I can’t bring myself to be annoyed. Rouge’s breasts are genuinely impressive.

Rouge snaps her fingers. “Eyes up here, mister. You’re a married man now.”

“Rouge, what on earth are you doing in my hotel room?” I sigh.

“I felt like ordering room service,” she says breezily, taking a sip of her cocktail.

“Why can’t you do that in your own room?”

“Because if I do it in your room, then it charges your credit card and not mine,” she says. “Plus I don’t want to be in the same room as Knuckles right now.” When she sees my face she adds: “Really, Amy – this is the least you can do after you completely ruined my bachelorette. It’s not like you’re short of rings now you’re officially a millionaire.”

“How much have you spent so far?”

Rouge places a finger to her chin thoughtfully. “Well, I had four plates of oysters for my appetiser, then a 12 ounce goldleaf-wrapped ribeye steak with lobster on the side, then a melon plate for dessert because I am a fruit bat after all, all washed down with the most expensive champagne of the menu, plus the cocktail I’m currently drinking so I’d say that’s about maybe… three thousand rings?” She gave a nonchalant shrug. “I wasn’t really counting.”

“Great,” I say. “Fantastic.”

“Anyway, what’s the matter with you two? You look like someone just took a dump in your coffee.” Her mouth twisted in a smirk. “Aw, did you two have your first argument? You’re settling into married life already.”

All I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep off the rest of my hangover, but Shadow starts talking. “Rose maintains that I acted without consent by marrying her when she was drunk,” he says matter-of-factly. “I responded that I don’t know what she means.”

I slump exasperatedly into another chair at the table while Rouge immediately looks at Shadow with interest. “You don’t know what she means?”

“No,” Shadow says, joining us at the table, too.

I gesture at Shadow while looking pointedly at Rouge, as if it say: See what I have to deal with?

 But Rouge doesn’t seem to share my misgivings. “Shadow,” she says slowly, “what is your understanding of alcohol?”

Shadow frowns slightly. “Alcohol is used to disinfect and sanitise,” he says. “It was often used to clean tools before a procedure on the ARK.”

“And you aren’t aware of any… other uses for alcohol?” Rouge probes. “Like… drinking it?”

Shadow blanches. “Are you insane?” he snarls. “Drinking it would kill you.”

A slow smile spreads across Rouge’s face. “Now I see what’s happened here. Yes, I think I understand exactly what’s going on.”

“Then can you enlighten me?” I say flatly. “Because I’m still trying to figure out what the everlasting hell went down last night.”

Rouge turns to me. “Amy, you remember that Shadow was created on the ARK, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“And you realise that the ARK was a completely sterile environment. Basically a laboratory. Deliberately clear of anything that could compromise the health of Gerald Robotnik’s ailing granddaughter.”

“Right,” I frown.

“You see…” Rouge nibbles the end of her straw. “I don’t think Shadow has had much exposure to alcohol as a recreational substance. He certainly wouldn’t have had any on the ARK. He’s been living on Earth for some time now, but” – she shrugs – “he doesn’t exactly get out much.”

“That’s impossible,” I say immediately. “Because Shadow was drinking last night too.”

I’m hit with a flashback of Sonic and Shadow slamming tequila shots in some ego-driven drinking contest; Sonic taunting Shadow that he’s going to lose; Shadow declaring that he truly is the Ultimate Lifeform when Sonic ends up slumped over the bar.

“If Shadow didn’t know that drinking alcoholic drinks makes you drunk before, he sure as heck would have found out last night.”

Rouge turns her glittering gaze to him. “Well? Did you feel at all strange after drinking those cocktails last night? Woozy, slurring, prone to making bad decisions?”

Shadow frowns again. “No,” he mumbles, “I didn’t feel any different.”

“Interesting…” Rouge mutters.

Before I can say anything she reaches down into the handbag propped against the table and retrieves a laptop. There’s silence, broken only by the clickety-clack of Rouge typing away against the keyboard.

“Let’s see here…”

I brave a glance at her laptop screen. Near the top of the page is a disclaimer stating ‘PROPERTY OF G.U.N. HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL AND TOP SECRET.’ Rouge scrolls down a long list of green text – ‘Alien sightings’, ‘Nuclear launch codes’, ‘Ratings of every guy I slept with at military school’ – before she double-clicks a file named ‘Project Shadow’.

“This is all the information I managed to extract from the ARK all those years ago,” Rouge explained. “There must be something in here…”

Her blue-green eyes scan the screen, her lips moving wordlessly as she reads.

Suddenly, she jabs her finger at the screen. “There!” she declares. “‘Created to be medically perfect and cure all known diseases. Incapable of becoming sick from any pathogen, cell abnormality or noxious substance.’”

She slams the laptop shut triumphantly.

“There you go. Shadow can’t get drunk.”

Shadow folds his arms and makes his classic hmph sound. “Not that I would ever want to,” he spits. “Ingesting alcohol for recreational purposes is a pathetic pastime.”

 “Don’t look so sad, buttercup,” Rouge says brightly when she says my despairing face. “This is actually fantastic news. Now we always have a designated driver.”

“Right. Yeah. Guess so.”

I massage my face with my hands. I’m starting to feel really overwhelmed. Finding out that I’m married to Shadow this morning was a shock, but I thought that I’d be able to undo it. Now I’ve found out that I can’t – at least not for a year – and the reality of it is starting to come crashing down like a house of tarot cards.

“Shadow,” I say, “I’m sorry, but… do you think you could give me a little space? I’m just… I need a little time to process everything.”

Like this morning, his face hardens. It’s as if he’s folding in on himself, like a tortoise retreating into its shell because it’s afraid of getting hurt. I can practically see him putting his emotional walls up.

In spite of his body language, he says, “Of course, Rose.” His voice is calm, but cold. “I’ll be in my suite when you’re ready to talk.”

I wait for him to leave. It’s only when I hear the click of him closing the hotel room door behind him that I bury my head in my hands.

“This is a disaster,” I groan. “A total, total disaster.”

“You’re one million rings richer and married to your crush’s emotionally available doppelganger,” Rouge points out. “That’s a win in my book. If you really want to know what a loss looks like, go and see Knuckles.”

Rouge’s words remind me of an unfortunate fact.

“Oh Chaos,” I wail. “What’s Sonic going to think about this? He’s supposed to be my soulmate and I’ve just married his biggest rival!”

“Oh no!” Rouge says. “Now he still won’t date you.”

“It’s just…” I start to feel the tears pricking the corners of my eyes. “All I’ve ever wanted was to marry someone I love. And for more than ten years I’ve been chasing after Sonic thinking that person would be him. Sure, he’s a little carefree, like all young men are, but I really thought he would start to mature and settle down soon. I know that he cares about me more than he lets on, and I was hoping that this year, he would start to show it. And then we’d be together, just like I always wanted.” I choke down a sob. “I’ve been dreaming of my wedding day since I was a little girl, Rouge. And now it’s happened, I can’t even remember it!”

Silence.

I remove my hands from my face and look around. Rouge’s chair is empty. Her pina colada is finished.

I turn around and see her putting on her heels in the hotel room.

“Sorry, powder puff!” she calls. “I really can’t be your emotional support bat right now. I don’t do tears or sentimental heart-to-hearts or whatever that was. Didn’t you hear when I said I can’t deal with Knuckles?”

I look at her through tear-rimmed eyes. “You’re supposed to be my friend!”

 “And as your friend, it’s important for me to be honest and say that I really don’t care about your problems right now,” Rouge says. “Hey, why don’t you speak to Sonic about this?”

“No!” I say hurriedly. “Rouge, there is no way Sonic can find out about this. Seriously – he can’t know.”

“Whatever you want, gorgeous,” Rouge says. “Like I said, I’m your friend. Maybe put those rings to good use and try some retail therapy instead. A new piece of jewellery always helps me when I’m feeling down.”

“Yeah.” I sniff. “Yeah, you’re right.” I start to feel a little more positive. “I shouldn’t be sitting here feeling all sorry for myself. I’m Amy Rose! Everyone knows how I’m always the one to keep optimistic and cheer everyone up, even when times are tough. When Sonic went missing during the reign of the Eggman Empire, did I sit there crying and feeling sorry for myself? No! I –”

A slam of the door announces Rouge’s exit.

I wipe the tears from my face. Then I sigh and get into bed.

After a moment, I decide to call reception using the telephone on the bedside table.

“Um, hello, room service?” I sniff. “Do you think you could bring me your biggest tub of cookie dough ice cream?”

Notes:

Fun fact: the whole 'you have to be married for a year before you can divorce' thing isn't something I made up for the story. It's the actual law! (At least in the country I'm from.)

Shadow staring at Rouge's cleavage was inspired by this tweet: https://x.com/soniccitynet/status/1736025867665473917

P.S. Not sure if anyone is reading my other story, Bloodstained Prophecy (collab with GothAmy and HoneyLicious), but if so then this is a PSA that I updated that story today too!