Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter One

"Hello?"

"Tracy, its Phil…"

"Phil. Where the hell are you? I'm freaking out."

"Yeah listen…" He sniffed, "Uh…we fucked up."

"What are talking about?"

"The bachelor party; the whole night…" he sighed, wondering how to explain this to the woman who was bound to be frustrated enough as it is, "Things got out of control and, uh…we lost Doug."

"What?"

"We can't find Doug."

"What are you staying Phil?" She hissed down the phone, "We're getting married in five hours!"

"Yeah…that's not going to happen…"

I lay spread across the backseat of the convertible Mercedes, my eyes closed behind my darkened sunglasses. My twin brother, Doug, was getting married to his childhood sweetheart, Tracy, this weekend and today was the day of the Groom's Bachelor party. To be honest, I was surprised Doug had even thought about inviting me. We are close and everything but I thought it would be kind of strange to go to Vegas with your friends and your sister. Apparently, Doug was just as surprised that I believed I wouldn't be invited.

"Grace...you're more than just my little sister..." he had said, "You're, like, one of my closest friends. Of course you're coming to Las Vegas with the guys – it wouldn't be right without you."

So that's what brought me here, waiting on the Best Man and close friend, Phil Wenneck outside of the private middle school he taught at, with my brother and my soon to be brother-in-law, Alan. I sighed and shifted to my right side across the seats, deciding to enjoy the sunny day while I waited. Phil was never good with time and it had only gotten worse as he got older. Today would not be any different.

"Did you have to park so close?" Alan asked sunglasses on and hands hiding his face.

"Yeah, what's wrong?" Doug questioned confused.

"I shouldn't be here."

I raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. That was the thing about Tracy's brother: he wasn't what you'd define as normal. He was always causing trouble. "What did you do this time Alan?"

"Nothing!" he assured quickly, waving his hands in front of him frantically "...I'm just not supposed to be within 200 feet of a school..."

"What!" Doug gasped shocked.

"...or a Chuck E. Cheese..."

I couldn't help laughing. "Really? Wow Alan, you never cease to amaze me. What did you do?"

Alan didn't get the chance to answer (although I doubted he would anyway, he never did) as Phil came running out of the school gates, putting on his aviators, rushing towards us. From where I was sitting, I couldn't see anything except the sky, and the back of Doug and Alan's heads, but I did manage to hear Phil brush off a 6th grader rather skilfully. Something's never change, Phil is one of those things. He will always be the same.

"Shit. Nice car." Phil commented, throwing his bag into the backseat, something I narrowly missing when I moved to accommodate his arrival. "I'm driving."

"No chance," Doug told him firmly as he climbed onto the car to get into the backseat, "watch the leather!"

"Just shut up and drive before one of those nerds asks me another question." he said, relaxing into the leather seats, leaving me wondering how he had become a teacher, "who's this?"

"It's Tracy's brother, Alan."

"Dude, you met me like, four times."

"Oh yeah, how you doing man?" Phil smiled and hit him gently on the back in greeting. It was clear to both Doug and I (if the look he gave me was anything to go by) Phil still had little idea of who the man was but Alan seemed happy, so we held our tongues. There was no point in upsetting the sweet, strange man. Phil laid his arm across the backseat, resting it behind my shoulders, and smiled down at me, "Gracey, how you doing?"

I smiled softly at the sound of my nickname. For some reason, he was the only one that called me that. I had to find out why. I love that name. "Not bad. Work was a bit hectic so I'm glad for the break..."

"I'm not sure how photography can be 'hectic' but I'll take your word for it."

"You should. If you ever doubt me again, I'm going to make you explain to my clients; no, I have no intention of making you wider - you really are that big." I told him seriously, by the amusement was on my face, "What about you? I heard about the divorce..."

"I'm good for the most part anyway. As you said, hectic, but I can deal."

"You always do."

We smiled at each other, and relaxed into a casual, comfortable position. The relationship between the two of us had always been strange, but only to those round us. I'm not sure even Doug knows the reason for why we treat each other how we do (and I tell him almost everything). We were close, comfortable with each other – the idea that we acted too much like a couple never crossed my mind, but still managed to haunt me since middle school, where our little group of friends first met. I've had to end many relationships, with really nice guys, because they assume I was cheating on them with Phil, something I definitely wouldn't do. I'm not a cheat, and Phil is just a friend - nothing more, no matter how much I would want otherwise.

The car pulled up onto the street in front of Stu's house, the final member of our small group of friends. It was technically his, no matter what Melissa claimed the situation to be. There were a few moments of just staring at the house in silence before anyone spoke.

"So...who's going in? Grace?" Doug tried.

"Uh-huh. Not me." I said stubbornly, "I hate her and she hates me. Mutual feelings and all that bollocks. Plus if she knows I'm here, she'll never let Stu go. One of you has to go."

"She doesn't trust me." Doug quickly excused himself. Slowly, we slide our gaze to Phil, who had been watching us with amusement. He laughed slightly and lent forward towards us.

"Doug, Grace...there is a simple remedy for this..." He turned to lean out the car. He cupped his hand around his mouth and took a deep breath, "Paging Doctor Faggot! Doctor Faggot!" He dropped back into his seat, smiling smugly, as we started at him in shock.

"Um, Phil? I think you just killed Stu..." I blinked.

Phil shrugged. "It would do him some good. She's a bitch."

"Not a good excuse." Doug told him firmly but the stern voice was belittled by his amused expression. I giggled behind my hand before coughing loudly in an attempt to hide it when Stu appeared at the side of the car.

"Thanks a lot Phil." He muttered angrily, throwing his back into the car, nearly hitting me again.

He grinned. "It's no problem Stewie. Any time."

It didn't take that long to get on the high way and, now that we were out of the city, the excitement had begun to settle in. It seemed Alan was the one most excited out of all of us because he was soon standing up in his seat, slapping the front window and the side of the car.

"Whoo! Road trip! Vegas! Vegas baby!" he shouted loudly, focusing his attention on a blond girl in the car next to us. She watched him, bored, for a moment before flipping him off. Instantly, the man shut up and sat down, and the rest of us cracked up laughing. I swear all of us had these huge smiles on our faces, which only widened when Phil pulled a six-pack from somewhere in his duffle bag.

"Ah, our alcohol mule has proved useful once again." I teased, passing a beer to Stu.

"Shut up." He muttered and took a gulp, before returning to irritating Doug until he gave in, "Come on, just 'til Barstow, everyone's passing us."

"Absolutely not. I promised Sid. I will be the only one driving this car." Doug told him defiantly, "Besides your drinking."

"Oh, what are you a cop now? You know I drive great when I'm drunk!" Phil argued.

"That's true; don't forget Phil was always our designated drunk driver." Stu pointed out.

"He was pretty good as well. We haven't died yet, have we?" I added.

Doug laughed slightly. "Yeah, you want to explain it to them, Alan?"

"Guys, my Dad loves this car more than he loves me so, yeah..."

I tilted my head to the right. "You know, that's kind of sad..."

"Awh, whatever. I had to leave my ex-wife and kid at home so I could come with you guys. Do you know how difficult that was?" Phil demanded.

Alan, being the slow sweetheart that he was, didn't understand the sarcasm straight away. "That's real sweet Phil."

"Dude, I was being sarcastic. I fucking hate my life. I may never go back. I might just stay in Vegas."

"Here we go again..."Doug and I muttered together.

"Doug, enjoy yourself, because come Sunday, you're going to start dying a little inside." Phil began spurting out his words of wisdom.

"Marriage can't be that bad." I tried.

"That's because you've never been married." Phil pointed out, "Trust me when I say this, marriage isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"Maybe that was because you were with the wrong person."

Phil glanced me from the corner of his eye for a moment before redirecting his gaze to the passing scenery. "Yeah...maybe..."

The conversation ended for a while, no one sure what to say, but what could you say? I let out a low breath and settled against Phil's side, swinging my legs up to rest on Stu's lap. He dutifully ignored them. Phil glanced down at me for a moment before settling his arm around my waist, turning his attention to the view in front of us.

"Hey, am I good over there Alan?" Doug asked.

"Yeah, you're good." Alan confirmed.

He lied.

Just as Doug made to move into the next lane, a loud honk from the horn of a semi broke into the silence, shocking us all, and my brother had to move quickly to swerve out of the way. I had squeaked loudly, grasping Phil's arm. Stu had let out a gasped yelp. Phil had shouted a sharp, "shit" and Doug had made that weird noise he does when he's freaked out. Alan just muttered "whoa" before laughing.

"Oh my gods, Stewie are you alright? I didn't mean to kick you."

"...I'm fine...really..."

"What the hell Alan!"

"That was awesome!"

"That was not awesome! What's wrong with you?"

"We nearly fucking died!"

"You should have seen your faces!" Alan cackled happily, "Classic!"

"It was funny..." Phil chuckled quietly.

"Not funny!"

Stu made Doug pull up at the next service station that was five minutes away from the scene of the 'incident', as I was now calling it. Alan had opted for staying and watching the car, whilst we went into the small shop. Instantly, I'd ran to the drinks counter and snagged a couple of bottles of coca cola – my not-so-secret obsession and addiction. I returned to the side of my brother and Phil at that point, holding the bottles to my chest.

"Where's Stu?"

"Talking to the Queen Bitch," Phil muttered absentmindedly through a mouthful of chips, as he gazed out the shop window at Alan, who was currently yelling at an old man, "Is he all there, like, mentally?"

"No, I don't think so. You know, he's just an odd guy, kind of weird." Doug explained.

"So we shouldn't be worried?"

"No. Tracy did mention that we shouldn't let him gamble though, or let him drink too much." Doug added.

"Jesus, he's like a gremlin. Comes with instructions and shit," Phil muttered.

"I'd say he's like a giant, cuddly tear bear that shouldn't be allowed near pointy objects." I commented, tilting my head to the side.

Phil copied and squinted. "Yeah...I suppose he does, in a strange way."

"And one water," Stu appeared behind us, adding his bottle of water to the growing pile of food and drink on the counter.

"All good with Melissa?" Doug questioned.

"Oh yeah, I told her we were two hours outside wine country, and she bought it." He stated, sounding proud of himself. I stayed silent and shook my head – sometimes, I give up with Stu. For someone so smart, he could be so dumb.

"Don't you think it's strange that you've been in a relationship for three years and you have to lie about going to Vegas?" Phil piped up, giving Stu an exasperated look.

"Yeah I do, but it's not worth the fight." He laughed slightly.

"Oh so, you can't go to Vegas...but she can fuck a bellhop on a Carnival Cruise Line?" Phil pointed out almost smugly. With a sigh, I rolled my eyes. I had heard this story so many times, in so many ways. This approach wasn't working on Stu so why did Phil keep trying? But I already knew the answer to that – Phil only has one approach to things: blunt.

"Okay, first of all, he was a bartender. And she was wasted. And, if you must know, he didn't even cum inside her." Stu argued.

I wrinkled my nose. "Stewie, please...too much information..."

"Huh, and you believe her?" Phil raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah. It's true, because she's grossed out by semen." Stu blurted.

"Stu. Please, I beg you. I'm not drunk enough yet to listen to you talk about your crazy girlfriend's phobias." I pleaded before turning to the woman behind the counter, who was as freaked out as I was, "I'm sorry about all this. How much would that be?"

"$32.50 please."

"Pay the lady Stu." Phil gestured forward, "You heard her - $32.50."

Stu rolled his eyes and obediently handed over his credit card. It had long since become tradition that Stu paid for everything. It wasn't something that was considered right, but it was how it ended up happening. Phil would never pay anyway, and they all refused to let me pay – much to my annoyance – so it was usually between Doug and Stu to act as walking piggy banks. Most of the time it was Stu who paid though, thanks to his abet larger pay check.

We got back in the car and I stretched out across the backseat, resting against both Stu and Phil. I let out a sigh and tilted my head back, the sun warming my skin. "God, I can't wait until we get to Vegas. I'm going sunbathing."

Doug smiled and glanced at me in the rear view mirror. "Three hours, Grace."

"It says we should work in teams, who wants to be my spotter?" Alan asked, looking up from his book.

"I don't think we're going to be doing that much gambling tonight, Alan." Doug assured him.

"Gambling? Who said anything about gambling?" Alan looked affronted at the suggestion, "It's not gambling if you know you're going to win. Counting cards is a full-proof system."

"It's also illegal." Stu pointed out.

"It's not illegal. It's frowned upon – like masturbating on an airplane." Alan offered a suggestion.

I arched an eyebrow. "How do you know that Alan?"

"I'm pretty sure that is illegal too," Phil spoke over me. He looked down at me. "Don't encourage him."

I smirked happily, shrugging.

"Either way, you gotta be super smart to count cards, okay buddy?"

"Oh really?" Alan challenged, "Why don't you tell that to Rain Man, because he practically bankrupted a casino, and he was a ruhtard."

"A what?" Stu chuckled.

"He was a ruhtard."

"Retard." Doug and I corrected together with a laugh.