Author's Note: It's Christmas, again. And I'm feeling Scroogish with the crappy freezing-rain weather and the horrible traffic and the last-minute shopping, so I decided some more tragicomedy was in order for some face-slapping perspective. It's cathartic this time of year. But hey, June 21st isn't that far and we'll have lots of sun again. This is some light entertainment for anyone living north of the 49th parallel and slogging through the gloom of the long dark (sounds like an intro for LoTR or A Song of Ice and Fire), and for anyone south of the 49th parallel who just feels like reading something silly. Nonsense is good.

Big thanks again to hallonim for the cover photo and yes, that's Elvis. These covers are too small.

Elvis and the Death by Wedding: A Big Hunk O' Love Story

Chapter One

It was a hard swift kick to the shin. Tim bit down on his tongue and grimaced with the double shot of pain then he called for backup.

Two minutes later his phone buzzed. Seven heads twitched his way. He checked the text. "Uh, shit. Work. Gotta go."

He held up his phone so Miljana could see it was from Rachel. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously but she said, "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. Can you drop me at home on the way?"

"Sure."

Tim was up, jacket on and out the door before Miljana could say her goodbyes to her friends and do the requisite hugging. Tim watched through the glass at the front of the restaurant. It looked forced, he thought, more like politics than affection. When he got back after leaving the military and drifted home, a few of his friends from high school had tried it with him, their BFF, squealing, full-contact, bouncing hugs or the arm-over-the-shoulder, manly, brotherly squeezes, but it felt wrong, at least for him. It made him agitated. There was no way he was getting that close to someone he didn't know anymore or, more accurately, never really knew. They certainly didn't know him at all. He felt stripped bare after everything that had happened and shied away from that kind of contact, backed away from the hugs and the thin friendships. He stopped returning their calls, didn't feel the loss.

Miljana, though, was still tethered to what he felt was an outdated ideal and he observed patiently, trying to keep the disdain under control, as she sped through the routine and then followed him outside, and he gallantly held the door for her when she appeared.

She glared at him.

Tim was all innocence. "What? What did I do? And why'd you kick me?"

"It was a pre-emptive strike. I saw the look on your face. What were you going to say?"

"Uh, congratulations?"

"Bullshit."

"Well, I was gonna suggest as a wedding present we pay to get them spayed and neutered. It'd be a kindness."

A laugh spilled out before she could stop it. She pulled it up sharp and threw out some hastily organized shock. "Tim!"

"What? You're the one laughing. I'm serious."

"That's terrible." She smacked his shoulder. "Do you really have to go to work tonight?"

"No." He pretended to look guilty.

She stopped. "What about the text?"

Tim's eyebrows shrugged for him as he moved to corral her over to the building side of the sidewalk, his eyes doing a quick survey of the street. She was used to it, his sheepdog behavior, it provoked feelings both sad and affectionate and it softened her.

She prodded. "Tim?"

"I have to go to Louisiana tomorrow and I thought it'd be nice to spend some time…you know…just you and me. And, uh, I told Rachel I might need a rescue tonight."

"Rachel's in on this?"

"Don't get mad at her. It was my idea."

"You are the master of escape and evasion."

His smile was devilish. "Since I'm free, do you wanna come home with me?"

"I live with you."

"That works out well then."

He tucked an arm around her waist and directed her up the street to his truck, opened the door for her. She climbed in and watched him while he got settled and started the engine then said, "You don't like my friends, do you?"

"That's not true. I like Steve. And hey, I like your family. They're endlessly entertaining."

"I mean, those friends." She thumbed back in the direction of the restaurant.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize they were friends of yours."

She hit his shoulder again, a hard back-hand of disapproval.

He squinted over, trying for threatening. "Hey, would you quit hitting the same spot. I'm gonna have a nasty bruise to show from this dinner. And you wonder why I don't like your friends."

"Aha! I knew it. You just said it. You don't like them."

"What's to like?"

"Tim!"

"Seriously. I can't think of one nice thing any of them has done for you since I've known you. And you're not yourself with them – you get all uptight. I dunno, maybe it wasn't like that before you started bringing me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I dunno," he repeated, shrugged, trying not to get pushed into saying what he knew was the truth. "Maybe they're not comfortable around a US Marshal. Maybe they're all wanted felons." He looked sideways at her and teased. "How well do you know them?"

She huffed.

He grinned. "Though I did have a nice conversation with Marissa's last boyfriend about concealed weapons licenses. I think the guy's a psycho. What is it with her? You know after that talk I pulled his name. The guy has previous assault charges."

"You're not allowed to do that."

"And he's not allowed to pull people out of their cars and start beating on them because they didn't meet his fucked-up idea of road manners. Wait a minute – was he one of her patients, do you think?" He took his eyes off the road to give her a look of horror. "Can you imagine dating a patient? That's just so wrong."

"And you're so funny." Miljana turned away and stared out the windshield, folded her arms. "I think you're just being over-sensitive."

"You're right. There must be another reason why nobody ever asks about my work."

Trying not to get pushed into saying what she too knew was the truth, Miljana scrambled to come up with another reason. Tim, testy now, beat her to it, and the truth finally slipped out.

"Or maybe your mental health care friends are nervous around war veterans. Do you think there's some stereotyping going on?"

"Tim…"

"Oh, come on. Stop making excuses for them. They don't know how to react around me – it's obvious. It's like I'm a leper or something, or I've just announced I'm dying of cancer. Steve's not like that. He's just…Steve. And you're yourself with him. And your family, well they feed me and they're hilarious. I love them. But with those friends – they all stare at me like I've started ticking when I order a drink, and you get this look…" He waggled his fingers in front of her face. "It's cute by the way, all protective and indignant."

Miljana went quiet. She couldn't deny any part of it. She took in a long angry breath and let it out, blowing a raspberry at the world. "I know." She dropped her head back against the seat. "But I've known them since college. We have history…"

Tim leaned over and kissed her when they pulled up in front of the house.

"You're awesome. I'll put up with them for you."

She undid her seatbelt, squeezed over the console and onto his lap and kissed him back and the truck cab was suddenly very small.

"The house is right there," he said around her lips.

She stretched, her arms pulling up over her head and her toes pointed. Taking advantage of the luxury of a Saturday morning, Tim had crawled back into bed with her after a run and some coffee and was kissing her stomach around her belly-button ring. He happily tucked his arm under the small of her back when she arched. He thought body piercing a ridiculous thing. Purposely putting metal through flesh seemed a dumb idea to him unless it was a well-placed bullet through a deserving asshole. But he'd had to rethink his prejudice here under the covers and naked with her. He looked forward to glimpses of the little gold ring under her belly-button. On her it didn't seem ridiculous, just incredibly sexy, especially since it was hidden mostly. For his eyes only.

Miljana yawned. "She wants me in the wedding party."

Tim dropped his forehead onto Miljana's hip bone and groaned.

"She asked me when I said my rushed goodbyes last night, chasing after you running for the door."

"Was I that obvious?"

"You were Sonic the Hedgehog – hair to match." She reached down and messed it till it stood up. "She actually apologized and made excuses for not having you involved in the ceremony too."

"Fuck me. She actually considered it?"

"I don't think so. She was just covering her ass."

"That's a lot to cover."

Miljana raised a hand to smack his head but stopped herself. Tim caught the movement.

"Hey, on any other woman, it's attractive. On her, everything's ugly."

"Now, Tim, tell me how you really feel."

"You know what I mean. It's one of those old saying things – ugly in, ugly out."

"I've never heard it put so poetically."

"It's the truth. You, on the other hand, would look fantastic wearing desert cammies, Oakleys and full gear and one of those ugly K-Pots with the stupid chin strap and the night-vision thingy attached on the top and no shower for a week. And let me tell you, there's nothing flattering about all that shit. Beautiful in, beautiful out."

"I've seen pictures of you dressed just like that and I think it's hot."

"You couldn't smell me in the photo."

"I like a man in uniform."

"Now you tell me. I traded mine in."

"Uniform in, uniform out."

There was a pause while they both thought about the last line, then Tim said, "That just doesn't sound as good, like all my internal organs are in neat rows and all the same color."

"Yeah, you're right."

He slid up beside her and stuffed his nose in against her neck enjoying the smell of her and she wriggled closer for warmth and ran her fingers lightly through his hair and he almost drifted off to sleep again, almost. He jerked back to the surface, pulled up by the sound of automatic rifle fire. "Shit, I'm already thinking about training. I gotta go shower. My flight's at noon."

She turned over on her side to face him and looped her arms tightly around his neck. "I wish you didn't have to go."

"It's only a week."

"What's Louisiana like this time of year?"

"It's nice. Warm."

"Can I come?"

"Can you fast-rope from a helicopter?"

"No. You could show me."

"People die doing it. No fucking way."

"But it's okay for you?"

"I'm past the newbie fuck-up stage – went through it when I was young and stupid and wearing that invincible suit. Put me in a wedding party though and I promise you someone would die."

Miljana laughed. "The wedding's not till August. You have time to practice."

"August, huh? Well, that gives me six months to convince you to run away with me."

"It's just one day and you are not leaving me alone for the reception."

"I got your six."

"You're going to need a suit."

"I got one."

"Not that one."

"Oh for fuck's sake."

"I'll get Steve to take you shopping."

"Can I get drunk first?"

Miljana's sigh was defeat and compromise. "Whatever it takes."

"Yay."

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