It was a crisp Sunday in October. The bright blue skies and sparse green leaves were clinging to the remnants of Summer as Autumn crept in with cool temperatures and golden hues. Sundays in Lima tended to be filled with peace, many of the residents in attendance at one of the local churches while those who chose not to formally worship still relished in the serenity, an unspoken homage to the day of rest.
Such was not the case in an apartment on the Northwest corner of town where Will Schuester bustled from room to room, whipping open cupboard doors and closing them just as quickly. Rapidly, he brought his body down to the floor in order to look under various pieces of large furniture. He had just received a phone call from the Oncology Ward at the local Children's Hospital. They hadn't seen him all Summer, would he consider stopping by Wednesday night?
"Where is my ukelele?" He wondered.
Just four months before, he had packed up his life in preparation for an attempted career in New York under the bright lights of Broadway. A stint which lasted mere days before realization struck that his heart remained in Lima. The members of New Directions were led to believe the sacrifice was made for them, not knowing that in reality it had been a decision of the heart. A heart that belonged to William McKinley's own Emma Pillsbury. Somehow, upon his return to Lima, the two had become a couple and in the midst of settling back into his apartment Emma settled in as well.
Which brought him to his current predicament...he absolutely LOVED Emma, especially waking up to her fragrant, nightgown clad body every morning. No, Emma, was hardly the problem. The dilemma was that during the process of making room for another person, a person with very specific ideas on organization...Will was still learning where everything was. So here we was frantically in search of his ukelele so he could rehearse a bit and shake off the musical cobwebs so to speak.
He had checked the Den, the living room, and defying logic, he had even checked both the kitchen pantry and refrigerator. Eager to become reacquainted with his instrument, Will headed to the more logical confines of the bedroom, specifically the large wall closet spanning the right side of the room. There it was, on the shelf nestled neatly between two boxes whose size had left a space just perfect for the instrument's black textured casing. He stretched up to bring the instrument in reach, the awkward angle made it harder than it should have. His fingers curled around the handle of the case and he brought the case down ... He also brought down a box, which hit him in soundly on the head as it came crashing to the ground, it's contents spilling across the floor. There before him lay an extensive collection of Bridal magazines.
Will squeezed his eyes shut and then reopened them in an attempt to prove that he was not mistaken in what he saw. He was not. He swallowed hard, and knelt to the ground, gathering the magazines. Examining the cover of one such magazine, Will's heart broke a little. It was an issue of The Knot, the imperfect cover was wrinkled with the tell tale signs of moisture. With anyone else, one could argue that they were the remnants from the condensation of a beverage glass or a rogue sprinkler from the city park as a bride to be flipped through it on a bench. Yes, with anyone else those explanations would suffice, but this wasn't anyone else, this was Emma and the dried streaks cascading the cover could only be those of rogue tear drops. The publish date for the magazine was January 2011, several weeks after she had eloped with Carl. These were magazines of regret. Regret that the storybook wedding of her dreams, the kind he assumed all women began planning as young girls was replaced with the reality of a rushed, wedding in Vegas... and perhaps, Will selfishly hoped, regret in her selection of grooms. The thought of Emma sad made his heart ache and he felt like an intruder as her secret stash lay strewn around him.
He did not hear as her key turned in the front door. Perhaps, had he heard, the afternoon would have been spent differently. Surely had he heard her enter the apartment, his body would have sprung into action tossing the magazines back in their box, launching it back to it's designated spot on the shelf in the closet.
Will sat there stunned, alongside the myriad of bridal couture images, lay a Thunderclap with a Sharpie inscribed heart drawn around his Teacher of the Year picture.
"Will? Where are ... Oh, there you..." Emma stopped abruptly as she rounded the corner entering the room. Her eyes grew wide and her cheeks were flush with embarrassment.
"They fell."
"I see" was all Emma said as she slowly knelt down beside him, pulling the magazines into a pile.
The room was silent, the sound of magazines being stacked the only sound. Emma didn't know what to say. She wondered what was going through Will's head. Did these frighten him, would he worry that she was rushing them down the aisle, did he notice they were purchased when she had belonged to another?
Will brought his hand to hers stilling her actions. Slowly she lifted her gaze from the floor up to his face.
"Emma, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. We're gonna get there, you'll have the wedding you've always wanted and I can't wait to be the groom at the end of the aisle when that day comes."
A small smile crept upon her face, her heart leaping for joy as tears threatened to spill at the corner of her eyes. She brought her lips into a firm line across her face, attempting to regain her senses.
"How can you be so sure Will? So confident?" she questioned. The past four months had been so perfect, she often wondered when utopia would give way to reality. She was still unable to perform all her girl friendly duties and at times the thought of kissing him before brushing her teeth still creeped her out. Confidence in her future rarely matched her hopes and yet here he stood before her, surrounded by bridal magazines practically guaranteeing a ring and the accompanying marital bliss.
As Emma pondered Will's declaration and awaited his answer to her inquiry, Will stood and walked toward his side of the bed, he bent down momentarily to retrieve something from underneath. A large shoe box. Will took a spot next to her on the floor and placed the box between them.
"This is how I know." He lifted the lid off the box to reveal several things. Emma's face was shocked as he pulled out an unused ticket to Sectionals... a small snapshot of them at Carmel High's invitational... a toothbrush plagued with pencil shavings ... a DVD of The Jazz Singer ... Several white buttons in a plastic bag... at the bottom of the box lay something black.
Emma tilted her head closer in curiosity, squinting her eyes slightly to get a better sense of what lay at the bottom of the box.
"Is that ... my cardigan?"
It was Will's turn to show his embarrassment as his ears grew hot and his eyes fixated on the contents of his box.
"You ummm, you left it behind that day ... You know... Rocky Horror?" His entire face now red as he recalled his ridiculous scheme last Fall fueled by jealousy and a bit more lust than love.
Emma's fingers twisted and picked at the hem of her blouse, she too embarrassed by the events of last Fall, especially the removal of a certain Spanish teacher's shirt and her body writhing around atop his desk as she sang, begging and yearning to be touched.
"You kept it?" she smiled as the hook of her finger brought his gaze to match hers.
"It smelled like you."
Pride and certainty replaced the feelings of embarrassment from her body and she kissed him tenderly. Without saying a word, she stood, her hands gently tugging Will to stand as well and she walked them over to the edge of the bed. Kissing him once again, she ran her fingers through his soft curls.
Will slowly laid back, pulling Emma on top, placing his hands at her waist, their hips flush against each other, the pads of his strong fingers massaging the small of her back as he deepened the kiss and gently guided his tongue into her mouth.
Emma couldn't help but gyrate her hips as she felt all of Will hardening near her most intimate regions. She brought her fingers to the edge of his shirt and pulled it over his head.
Will's hands already at her back, he began to mirror her actions, gliding her silky blouse up slowly as his eyes peered questioningly into hers. "is this okay?" they inquired protectively. Emma gave a slight nod as her hands fumbled at the waist of his jeans. Will's eyes darkened with lust as he began to grasp the intense reality of the situation before them. As he removed the blouse from her body, he kissed her tenderly, slowly trying to communicate his love for her and his presence in this moment as they tip toed toward the unfamiliar waters ahead.
Still struggling at his waistband, Will sat them up, he brought her hands to the waist of her own skirt while he unfastened his jeans.
"Don't worry," he soothed a slightly shamed Emma. "there really isn't a sexy way to remove jeans." he winked.
The comment contained just the right dose of humor to lighten the mood as the pair settled back into bed, kissing, stroking and discovering. As he pushed gently into her, placing gentle kisses to her collarbone, Emma couldn't help but understand the confidence he had exuded earlier.
They were meant to be... There future, their marriage, their family were set into motion long ago.