Friday afternoon
"I would send you down to get your head x-rayed," Grace said with a smile, "but I don’t think they’d find anything."
"Very funny," John said at the double-edged words.
"You meet your insurance premium every year, don’t you?"
He sighed wearily. "Every year. Hey, Grace…" He picked his shirt up from the table. "Don’t tell Sam about this, okay? She’ll..."
Grace shook her head at him and grimaced. He felt a light touch on his back as fingers gently traced around the growing bruise.
"What have you done now?" Sam asked. "You look awful."
He turned to give her a guilty look. "Nothing?"
"He fell off a fire escape."
"Thanks for nothing, Grace." He threw her a quick scowl. "And I fell *down* a fire escape, not off one." He turned back to Sam. "Marcus and I were investigating a new lead on the Travis case this morning. The guy ran. Marcus took the inside stairs. I took the outside ones. They were a little slick in the rain." He winced as Grace tried to tape a bandage on his hand. "I’m fine. Stop poking me."
"Is he alright?" Sam asked, looking past him to Grace.
Grace shrugged. "Marcus says he slid down about half a flight on his back. Probably cracked his head on the landing." She pulled John’s head forward to show Sam the lump. He twisted out of her grasp and frowned irritably. "He has a thick skull," she said. "I think he’ll be okay. Keep an eye on him, though."
"If I didn’t know better," Sam said as they walked out of the pathology lab, "I’d think you were trying to get out of going to Angel’s wedding this weekend."
"Of course not," he protested. "I wouldn’t miss it for the world… Chloe’d kill me."
*****
Friday evening
"Aren’t you a little old to be a flower girl?" John asked. He sat on the sofa in the firehouse and grinned teasingly at Chloe.
Chloe rolled her eyes in unconscious imitation of her mother. "I’m *not* the flower girl."
"Aren’t you a little young to be the maid of honor, then?"
"I’m *not* the maid of honor. Mom is. I’m a *bridesmaid*."
"If you say so."
She glared at him for a moment then laughed. "Why do you do that?" she asked as she sat down beside him.
"Do what?"
"Try to annoy people. You do it on purpose," the little girl told him. "You *try* to bug people."
John shrugged.
Chloe shook her head and sighed. "So, are you coming with us?" she asked finally.
"What… tonight? No."
"Why not?"
"It’s just the rehearsal, Chlo. They don’t need a ‘practice audience’."
"Then why’d you come by here tonight?"
"To see you," he answered promptly.
"Wrong." The child shook a finger at him knowingly. "You came to see Mom."
"Now why would I do that? I see your mom all day at work."
"Yeah," Chloe agreed with a grin, "but Uncle Bailey doesn’t let you kiss her at work."
John wrinkled his face at her. "Shouldn’t you be off brushing your hair or your teeth or something?"
Chloe laughed.
"Chloe, sweetheart, you can’t wear that to the rehearsal," Sam said as she rushed into the living room. "Hurry, please. We’re going to be late already."
"Yes, ma’am."
"Relax, Sam," John said as Chloe hurried to her room. "It’s not like this is the real wedding. Save the panic mode for tomorrow."
"I know, it’s just…" She waved one hand at him vaguely as she rummaged through her purse with the other.
"It’ll be fine," he reassured her. "Isn’t Angel’s mom the one who’s supposed to be doing all the panicking, anyway?"
"Angel’s mother is so excited that her baby is finally getting married that she’s too wound up to panic," Sam admitted in amusement. She stopped in front of John’s seat on the sofa and allowed him to pull her down beside him. "You’re warm."
"If that was supposed to be a come-on," he grinned, "I’ve heard better."
Sam rolled her eyes even as she raised a hand to his forehead. "I mean, you feel warm, John. You have a fever, don’t you?"
"I’m fine," he protested. He gave her a sincere look but caved at her persistent frown. "I will be fine," he amended. "I’m going home and straight to bed, doc… and I do not have a concussion," he added firmly as she peered intently at his eyes.
"Why on earth did I have to go and fall for a man who doesn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain?" Sam asked.
"Because you aren’t as bright as people think you are?" John gave her another innocent look.
Sam cupped his chin in her hand and shook his head gently. "Go home and get some rest, John. We’ll see you tomorrow."
*****
Saturday afternoon
"Are you sure you’ll be all right?" Sam asked.
"I’m fine," John replied. "It’s just a little headache... double vision… fever, muscle spasms..." He grinned. "I’ll live, Sam. Don’t worry so much. Really, it’s just this sneezing. It sounds worse than it feels. Go on."
Sam eyed him with frank disbelief. She hated dragging him out here so early, but she and Chloe had needed to be here for pre-ceremony pictures.
"I’m just going to sit here on the back row. You won’t even know I’m here." A sudden sneeze belied his words.
Sam shook her head. He could be dying of pneumonia, she thought, and he’d still swear that he was fine. "Just try not to snore too loudly," she said. She gave him one last searching look to reassure herself that he really would be all right then headed toward the front of the small church.
She was still astonished at how quickly it had all come together. Alex had only proposed to Angel a month and a half ago. When he had been offered a lucrative new position in North Carolina just a few weeks later they had decided to go ahead and get married before the new school term began. Angel and Sam had scrambled to arrange for a church, order the flowers, send the invitations, pick out bridesmaids’ dresses, and find the perfect wedding gown in less than a month. And somehow they had managed.
Things had been a little strained between Sam and Angel for several months prior to Angel’s engagement. Sam’s growing relationship with John had created an awkward tension between the two old friends. Working together on the wedding preparations had done much to repair the rift. Sam and Angel had become quite close again. As reluctant as she was to see her friend move hundreds of miles away, however, Sam had to admit that she was looking forward to a little more privacy and free time of her own. All the time spent with Angel had meant time spent away from John.
She glanced back over her shoulder to check on him one more time. He gave her a crooked grin as she caught his eye. She hoped that he really wouldn’t fall asleep before the ceremony. Or during it, for that matter, she thought suddenly. She was relieved to see Bailey walk in at that moment. He gave her an encouraging smile before taking a seat beside John.
Sam had been pleased that Angel had invited the VCTF to the wedding. She shouldn’t have been surprised, though. Aside from her brief relationship with John, Angel had also gotten to know many other members of the task force. Bailey had been a long time acquaintance. Angel had met Grace and George and their significant others during one crisis or another. Marcus was someone she knew only in passing, but he had been invited as well. Sam doubted that he would come.
Actually, part of her was still a little surprised that John had come. In spite of his fragile friendship with Angel and his new relationship with Sam, she suspected that a wedding was one of the last places on earth John Grant would ever want to be. She knew that he didn’t have much experience with long term relationships and that the whole concept of marriage probably terrified him. Still, she could wait.
She shook her head abruptly. She could wait for what, she wondered? For John to get comfortable with the idea of marriage? They hadn’t even been dating for very long. It was far too early to even begin thinking about marriage. It frightened her a bit to realize that the train of thought that began with dating John now could even remotely lead to the thought of marrying John later. It frightened her even more to realize that the thought came so easily.
She was brought back to the present by Chloe’s persistent voice.
"Come on, Mom. You’re supposed to be in this one."
*****
John struggled to keep his eyes open. Despite what he’d told Sam he wasn’t entirely sure that he was fine. His head still throbbed, a constant low-intensity ache, and his sinuses were killing him. Nothing that twenty hours with his head under a pillow wouldn’t cure, though, he thought. He moved slightly to make room for Grace, Morgan, and the baby to pass. He was a little surprised to realize that Jason was actually a toddler these days. At least he thought that was the technical term for it. He wasn’t quite sure what the range between baby and kid was, but that sounded about right.
He watched the church slowly fill through a dull fog. If Sam and Chloe weren’t part of this wedding he definitely wouldn’t be here. He was startled by a sudden shift in the crowd’s focus. A little girl in a white dress was walking down the aisle, one of Angel’s nieces, he thought. He chuckled quietly as she took large handfuls of flower petals out of the basket she carried and threw them in clumps every three or four steps. He turned back toward the rear of the church to see Chloe standing nervously in the doorway. She gave him a wobbly smile as he winked at her. John could practically see her mentally counting between steps as she started down the aisle, too.
As the rest of the attendants filed in John’s gaze followed Chloe to the front of the church. He belatedly noticed that Alex was already standing at the altar. The schoolteacher was shifting nervously from foot to foot. John smiled. Generally when he ended up at a friend’s wedding he tended to feel a bit of sympathy for the groom. Life as you know it is now over, buddy, he usually thought with a grin. He also tended to feel a faint sense of relief that it wasn’t his own wedding. Getting married had never been part of John Grant’s plans for his life. Today, however, for the first time he felt a sense of curiosity. What would it really be like, he wondered? To stand in front of a roomful of people and wait for the woman of your dreams to walk toward you? To start a family of your own? To start a new life together, just the two of you?
He wondered if he’d ever be able to do it. If things with Sam ever got that serious… He checked that train of thought sharply. They’d only gone out on a handful of "real" dates. What was he doing wondering about marriage already? Sure, he loved spending time with her. He loved talking to her, and teasing her, and touching her. He loved the way she smiled, the way she worried about him, the way she was so stubborn and strong. He loved… His train of thought completely derailed then.
She was standing in the doorway where Chloe had been only moments before. Nothing about her had changed in the forty minutes since he had last seen her. She wore the same dress. Her hair was styled exactly the same way. Her lipstick was still the same shade of whatever it was. And she was beautiful. The list of things he loved about her boiled down into one single coherent thought.
He loved her.
John Grant loved Samantha Waters.
He stopped breathing for an instant. He had been in love with her for years. He had known that he loved her even when he was trying to convince himself that he didn’t. He had known exactly what the emotion was that tore him to pieces every time she stepped into harm’s way, every time he thought that he might lose her. But he had never had the words, the actual words hit him with such an impact. He had never spoken them aloud. He had never even formed those exact words, in that exact order in his head before. He had felt them, but he had never felt them so concretely. And he had never been so certain of anything in his life.
If anyone asked him later, he would say that it had been a beautiful ceremony, that the bride had been lovely, that the homily had been touching. But the truth was that he wouldn’t remember a damned thing about the wedding. He honestly wouldn’t remember even seeing Angel walk in. He spent the entire wedding staring at the maid of honor.
*****
Saturday evening
"Ms. Waters, may I have this dance?"
Sam looked up at him and smiled. "Chloe finally let you go?"
John grinned in return. "You aren’t jealous, are you? She made me promise her first dance."
"She can be persistent," Sam admitted. "So, you’re all mine now?"
"Afraid so."
Her eyebrows drew together slightly as she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. "You’re fever is back," she said. Any excuse to touch him, she thought, even if it was genuine concern.
"I feel fine." He squinted at her. "You aren’t trying to get out of this dance, are you?"
She shook her head and smiled. Something in his expression made her heartbeat quicken as he held his hand out to her. Something in his eyes said that he needed to feel her in his arms as much as she needed to feel his arms around her. She stepped onto the small dance floor and into his embrace. She leaned against him and felt his arms tighten around her protectively, possessively. The stress and tension of the long day slowly began to ease as they moved slowly together. Finally a subtle shift in John’s stance made Sam lift her head. His eyes were closed. She knew it wasn’t any nod to romantic notions. He was sick and getting worse. If she let him stop moving he would surely fall asleep where he stood. She cut short their dance and led him to a chair near the wall.
"Stay here," she said. "I’m going to find Chloe and then we’re taking you home."
"I’m fine," he said. He blinked up at her with blurry, red-ringed eyes and sneezed.
Sam shook her head. "You’re a very bad liar when you’re sick. Don’t move."
*****
She pried the bottle of cold medication from John’s hand. Left to his own devices she was certain that he would exceed the recommended dosage. He gave her a sleepy, half-hearted frown as she pushed him out of the bathroom and toward his bedroom. He was barely awake enough to tumble into the bed. Sam tried not to laugh aloud as he struggled with the already tangled sheets. At last he gave up and allowed her to straighten the covers for him.
"Thanks, Sam," he mumbled. "Marry me?"
"What?" she looked at him in surprise. His eyes were still closed. Despite the fact that she knew he was kidding her heart jumped anyway.
"Got the sickness ‘n’ health stuff down cold," he continued as he nestled deeper under the blankets.
"You’re delirious."
"Mmm... maybe... Can we choose richer over poorer, though? Don’t really like poorer."
Sam smiled as she pulled the bedspread away from his face and smoothed his hair. "Good night, John."
"How come you never get sick?"
"Because I don’t play in the rain."
"Wasn’t playing... Was working."
"Go. To. Sleep."
As Sam returned to John’s living room Chloe rose from her seat on the sofa.
"You are going to say ‘yes’, aren’t you?" the little girl asked, eyes shining brightly.
It took Sam a moment to realize that Chloe had overheard John’s delirious comments.
"Chloe, sweetheart," she said gently. "He was joking. He’s sick and he’s just being silly. He wasn’t serious."
"He *sounded* serious."
"He wasn’t."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Chloe sighed loudly as she looked wistfully at John’s half-open bedroom doorway. "But if he *did* really ask, you’d say ‘yes’, right?"
"Chloe, he didn’t ask."
Chloe gave her a wide-eyed, startled look and ducked her head. Sam realized that she had put more vehemence into the words than she had intended.
"He really likes you," Chloe said softly without looking up. "He might ask you... someday, right?"
"I don’t know," she answered honestly. "I really don’t know."
"What would you say if he did?" Chloe asked again.
Sam could see a dim reflection of her own hopes in her daughter’s eyes. She gave the girl a tender smile and glanced back at John’s sleeping form. "We’ll just have to see, sweetheart," she said to both of them.
*****
end