Rating: G

Category: Humor

Series: 6th in "Daedalus" Series

Warnings: Minor spoilers for my story "Curtain Call."

Notes: This series began a week or so after "Murder 101," and will continue through the fourth season and beyond.

Standard disclaimers apply: I don't own them, I'm just playing with them. I do claim Tracey, Amy, David Noble, and Lucas Taggart.

~*~*~*~

From "The Cascade Times," August 8, 1999:

DEATH TAKES A HOLIDAY

As Temperatures Soar, Crime Rates Tumble

~*~*~*~

8:15 a.m.

Tracey West stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, occasionally wiping away a film of condensation. Her shower had ended twenty minutes ago and her blonde hair was beginning to dry in frizzy waves. Tracey wanted to remember how she looked as a single woman. Of course, she looked like a drowned rat at this moment, but it was the principle. Not that she expected a physical change when she got married in less than six hours. It hadn't happened the first time.

But Rafe was not Lawrence Field and she was not on a bender in Las Vegas. She loved Rafe and wanted to be his until death did them part. They had been dating for fifteen months and he was her constant support. Tracey wasn't sure she'd have been able to remain sober all this time without him. She had moved in with him just before Rafe's surprising proposal and wished he were here now so she could rush into his arms and know, just from his warmth and presence, that it would all be perfect. Except Rafe had spent the night at Henri's place so they wouldn't see each other this morning—bad luck and all.

"Trace?"

"Yeah?"

Tracey tightened the belt on her terry bathrobe as Amy walked in. Amy eyed her sister's half-dried state.

"You okay?" Amy asked.

"Nervous," Tracey said. "But I guess I'd be crazy not to be, huh?"

"Just think," Amy said with a wicked glint in her eyes. "You'll be like those cop's wives on TV who are getting kidnapped, being held hostage, or screaming loudly instead of seeking a weapon of some kind."

"You're not helping," Tracey said flatly. She absently flicked a stray piece of hair from Amy's forehead. "Besides, the West sisters will never be anyone's victim."

Amy smiled. "I'll do your hair. And stop worrying. It's a wedding that's been planned down to the detail. What could go wrong?"

~*~*~*~

11:01 a.m.

"Jim!"

"Sandburg!"

The calls echoed simultaneously through the loft. Jim's feet padded down the stairs from his lofted room just as Blair emerged from below. One caught sight of the other and both began to laugh. They had rented new tuxedos for the wedding and they had apparently been mislabeled. Blair had hiked his pants up to his chest and several inches still dragged along the ground. On the other hand, Jim's stopped short just above his ankles.

"I got your pants," they said in stereo.

"If this is today's biggest glitch," Jim said, calming his laughter. "Then we're in good shape."

As if to challenge that thought, the telephone rang. Blair snatched up the receiver from the kitchen wall.

"Hello?"

<"Blair? Oh, man. I'm in trouble.">

"Henri?" Blair shot Jim a look. "What's wrong?"

Henri snorted, said something.

"Can you talk louder?" Blair asked.

<"No, 'cause Rafe's in the next room. I'm in trouble, man. I can't believe this. I lost the minister, the reception hall has no chairs to seat the guests and the bakery lost the damned cake.">

"Yeah, that's bad."

<"I've got three hours and I can't let my partner down.">

Blair's mind raced. "Listen, concentrate on the minister. Jim and I will take care of the rest."

<"Thanks, Blair.">

"We'll see you at the church." Blair hung up. The slightly amused grin on Jim's face told him he'd been listening. "You want the cake or the reception hall?"

~*~*~*~

1:19 p.m.

The First Episcopal Church was a small church in downtown Cascade, nestled between a corporate office building and a pizza house. It boasted a brick front with two stained-glass windows and a small porch. The sanctuary held less than two hundred-fifty people, but only half that were gathered today in the first six rows. Simon and Daryl Banks, Megan Connor and David Noble, Joel and Lucas Taggart, and Rafe's college friends sat on the groom's side. Various out-of-state relatives, co-workers from Tracey's accounting firm, Amy's date Max, and Aunt Lily sat on the bride's side.

To the left of the sanctuary was a narrow hallway that led to restrooms. At the far end was the basement where Tracey's AA meetings were held. Right of the sanctuary was another hall. The first door on the right was a Sunday School classroom. Inside, Uncle Thomas helped Rafe fix his bow tie for the umpteenth time. Rafe immediately began tugging at it nervously, asking again where Henri was. Uncle Thomas just shrugged, doing his best to keep his new nephew-in-law calm.

Just across the hall, in the children's nursery, Amy and Tracey fixed the flowers in each other's hair and commented on how radiant the bride-to-be looked in her off-white, corseted gown. It was a simple dress, but elegant in its own right. Tracey had refused to wear white. Her mother had worn white and gotten a divorce. Her grandmother had worn white and died giving birth to Tracey's mom. Tracey had worn a white sundress in Vegas the night she drunkenly married Lawrence. White was not her color.

Amy's dress was bluish lavender that offset her eyes and slimmed her curvy figure. The flowers in her hair curled into a small bun reminiscent of the style of nineteenth-century aristocrats. The blonde still had light streaks of pink, remnants of Amy's flirtation with Kool-Aid dyeing.

Tracey fingered the tiny silver cross around her neck, an old item borrowed from her Aunt Lily. In her earlobes was a pair of sapphire stones, a wedding gift from Henri Brown. She admired the beautifully cut stones, so grateful to have a confidant in Henri. He was Rafe's partner and best friend, and his acceptance meant the world to her.

"What time is it now?" Tracey asked.

Amy glanced over at the wall clock. "It's one-forty. Don't worry so much, sis."

~*~*~*~

1:57 p.m.

"Where in hell are they?" Rafe hissed. He paced the length of the vestibule, alternately looking out the front doors and down the hall to Tracey's closed door. Uncle Thomas had begun to sweat inside his tuxedo. Hushed murmurs drifted out from the sanctuary. The absence of the minister and best man was conspicuous.

Megan Connor, treading carefully in heels that matched her embroidered burgundy dress, walked into the lobby.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Where are Jim, Blair and Henri?"

"I don't know," Rafe said, his voice rising in his panic. "They were supposed to be here an hour ago, but—"

The front door swung open and Jim marched in, shaking his head. He was muttering, "R-a-f-e. How hard is that to spell?" as he walked over.

"Where have you been?" Rafe asked. "Is something wrong?"

"It's taken care of," Jim said.

"Oh, Jim," Megan said.

Jim looked at her. "What?"

Megan pointed at his jacket, biting back a smile. "You've got icing on your shirt."

Jim glanced down and spotted the smear of white. "Dammit," he said, and hurried off to the restroom.

No sooner had Jim disappeared than Henri rushed in, pulling Minister Jenkins by one hand. The minister swayed a bit when they stopped moving, staring around with wide eyes.

"Don't ask," Henri said to Rafe.

"I'd be afraid to," Rafe said. "Tell me he's not drunk."

"I have to pee," Minister Jenkins announced.

Rafe blanched. Uncle Thomas began to laugh.

"Drunk is way too negative for this situation," Henri said. "He's in the process of sobering and has ingested too much coffee."

"Okay," Rafe said.

Henri shuffled off to the restroom with the minister. Rafe watched him go, too terrified to move.

"What else could go wrong?" he asked.

"Don't jinx yourself," Megan said. She turned and went back into the sanctuary.

Down the hall, Amy poked her head out the door. "Almost ready?" she hissed. "We're getting anxious down here."

"Five minutes, dear," Uncle Thomas said. "We're having a small crisis."

Amy blinked at them.

"Don't say that!" Rafe said, clamping a hand over his mouth as he realized how loudly that had come out. "We're fine, just a tiny delay."

Amy nodded and closed the door.

"What's delayed now?" Blair asked as he bolted inside, bringing in a cloud of jasmine.

"What is that smell?" Rafe asked.

"Incense," Blair said. "Don't worry about it."

"Easy for you to say," Rafe muttered.

"Everyone here?" Blair asked.

"For the most part," Uncle Thomas said.

"Here we come," Henri said. He, Jim and the minister emerged from the restroom. Minister Jenkins walked a bit steadier now and headed straight for Blair.

"Mr. Rafe?" Jenkins asked Blair.

Blair shook his head, his ponytail bobbing. "Uh-uh, him," he replied, pointing to Rafe.

"Ah." Jenkins shook Rafe's hand. "Congratulations. Are we ready?"

"Well, that's a pretty dumb question," Uncle Thomas said. "Let's get my niece married already."

~*~*~*~

2:16 p.m.

Minister Jenkins managed to stand at dignified attention behind the pulpit. Rafe had begun to smile when Tracey walked in and the smile had not diminished. Tracey's own smile was augmented by the sheen of tears in her eyes. Rafe and Tracey turned to face each other as the minister announced they would now read their personal wedding vows.

"I take you, Tracey Amanda," Rafe began, his voice soft and filled with love. "To be my wife, knowing in my heart that you will be my constant friend, my faithful partner in life, and my one true love. On this special day, I give to you, in the presence of God and these witnesses, my pledge to stay by your side as your husband, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.

"I further promise to love you without reservation, honor and respect you, provide for your needs as best I can, protect you from harm, comfort you in times of distress, grow with you in mind and spirit, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live."

Tracey cleared her throat, fighting back the swell of emotions inside her as she began to speak. "I take you, Leonard Theodore, to be my husband, secure in the knowledge that you will be my best friend, my faithful partner, and my one and only love. On this holy day, I give to you in the presence of God and our loved ones my pledge to stay by your side as your wife, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, through the good times and the bad.

"I further promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, laugh with you and cry with you, grow with you in mind and spirit, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live."

~*~*~*~

2:18 p.m.

Rafe slid the gold band over Tracey's slim finger, the trio of half-carat diamonds winking under the lights of the sanctuary.

"With this ring," Rafe said. "I thee wed."

Tracey gently took Rafe's left hand and placed a gold band, engraved with a miniature detective's shield, on his finger.

"With this ring," Tracey said. "I thee wed."

Minister Jenkins smiled. "With the power invested in me by the state of Washington, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Rafe swept Tracey into his arms and kissed her. The soft applause behind him and the sweet scent of his new wife's perfume were memories he would never forget, not as long as he lived.

~*~*~*~

3:45 p.m.

The reception hall was nothing like anyone imagined. Blair had used his knowledge of cultures and outdone himself in a creative set-up.

It was like walking into an Indian palace. The walls had been draped with yards of silks and cotton cloths in various colors and patterns. The buffet table was likewise covered in bright cloth. Incense burned at both ends, creating a perfect blanket of jasmine in the air. The dinner tables had been lowered to only twelve inches above the ground. Sitting in for chairs were massive roll pillows, similarly pattered with gold tassels on both ends. Carved ivory statues of elephants and tigers sat at the four corners of the dance floor, augmented by shimmering veils that cascaded from the ceiling. A similar tent of veils surrounded a five-piece band.

"It's breath-taking," Tracey said when she first arrived. "Not using chairs is such an original idea."

Nearby, Blair laughed. "If she only knew," he whispered to Jim.

"Hopefully she never has to," Jim said.

Henri wandered over and clapped Jim on the back. "Gentlemen," he said. "We pulled this off with no casualties among us."

"Almost none," David Noble said as he passed by them. "Nice choice of cakes, Jim."

"Huh?" Jim asked.

He marched over to the end of the buffet table and caught sight of what the bakery had delivered. While names were spelled correctly, the white frosting and lavender trim had become a garish lavender cake with white trim. Jim's face flushed.

Blair peeked around Jim and caught sight of the cake.

"If you value your life," Jim said, "you will not speak."

Blair pretended to pull a zipper across his lips, and walked away.

~*~*~*~

SNAPSHOTS

Guests feast on the floor, comfortable in the nests of pillows.

Rafe dances alone with his new wife, watched from all sides by the people closest to him.

Amy and Blair spin across the dance floor, trying to teach swing steps to Megan and David.

Rafe tosses the garter. Lucas Taggart catches it.

Megan catches Tracey's bouquet of daisies.

The purple cake is cut. Much ends up smeared across the faces of the newlyweds.

~*~*~*~

6:32 p.m.

Blair joined Amy by the band's microphone. She handed the band members sheet music while he addressed the crowd.

"Excuse me," Blair said, his voice wrapping around the room. The guests turned their attention to him. "If you could take your seats, Amy and I have a special gift for the bride and groom."

Amy turned to him. "Ready?" she whispered.

"Yeah."

She nodded and the band began to play the soft keyboard lead-in to "From This Moment On."

Amy stepped up the mike first and, in her high soprano, began to sing:

"I just swear that I'll always be there.

I'd give anything and everything…and I will always care.

Through weakness and strength…happiness and sorrow.

For better, for worse. I will love you…

With every beat of my heart.

"From this moment, life has begun…"

Blair began in his soft alto:

"From this moment, you are the one…"

Amy:

"Right beside you..."

Both:

"Is where I belong…from this moment….on..."

Blair:

"From this moment…I have been blessed."

Amy:

"I live only for your happiness."

Blair:

"And for your love…"

Both:

"I'd give my last breath…from this moment…on…."

Throughout the duet, guests listened with rapt attention. Blair's singing talent had been exposed just last year when he helped out a friend by appearing in a musical with Amy. The role had been a secret for a while, but Tracey accidentally outted him to Rafe. It had been a great time and the wedding had given them the perfect opportunity to sing with each other again.

As the duet drew to its end, Tracey, Megan and various female guests were in tears. Amy held back her own with great effort, the last few lines coming out a bit husky.

Both:

"All we need is just the two of us…

My dreams…came true…because…of you…

From…this…moment…

As long as I live, I will love you…

I promise you this…

There is nothing…I wouldn't give…

From this moment…"

Amy:

"I will love you…"

Blair:

"I will love you…"

Amy:

"As long as I live…"

Both:

"From this moment…on…."

~*~*~*~

8:27 p.m.

Mr. and Mrs. L.T. Rafe had left twenty minutes prior in a flurry of birdseed and shouted good-byes. Uncle Thomas and Aunt Lily were driving them to the airport for a nine-thirty flight to Cancun. Many of the guests filtered home, taking plates of leftovers and lavender cake. Those left lingered on the throw pillows, snacking on cold roast beef and hors devours. Joel and Lucas bowed out early, as did Max. Amy did not seem sad to see him go.

Blair plopped down next to her with two pieces of cake. "So tell me about Max," he said.

"He's in one of my summer classes," Amy said with a shrug. She picked at her cake. "I kinda felt obligated to bring a date, so I asked him."

Henri sitting down cut off Blair's comment.

"You gotta tell me, Hairboy," Henri said. "How did you pull this off in three hours?"

"A friend of mine is a decorator," Blair said. "She just finished remodeling a bedroom over on Silver Lake. The woman changed her mind and Michelle was stuck with all this stuff. So I rented it out for the day."

"I'll pay you back—" Henri began.

"Not for money," Blair said. "Just a date."

Amy coughed, but kept her eyes glued to the plate.

Simon leaned forward from his spot a few feet away and looked past the trio to Jim, sitting with Megan and David. "Loved the cake color, Jim," Simon said.

Jim rolled his eyes.

"I thought the purple icing looked pretty good smeared all over Rafe's face," Henri quipped.

"It wasn't purple," Jim said. "It was lavender."

This straight-faced comment cracked everyone up. They chatted for several more minutes. Then Simon retrieved an unopened bottle of champagne from the reception hall's adjacent kitchen. Ginger ale had been served at the reception, but Simon had brought the champagne for afterward. He made sure everyone had some before lifting his glass.

"To the happy couple," Simon said. "May Tracey and Rafe have many happy years together."

Blair lifted his glass. "To their future."

"To all our futures," Amy said.

Seven glasses clinked together.

END

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