AN:

This fic is dedicated to Rose, who has been through a ton this year and has just come out of an operation. So even though it's a tad late, I hope she enjoys it!

A rather weird take on a Joetine wedding, written in my strange style as usual. Enjoy!

I don't own the rights to bread.


Her heart pounds erratically as the car drives forward, slipping towards the building. She stares ahead, but her vision blurs around the edges and she can feel her legs turning limp. If she takes one step, she's pretty sure she will collapse on the gravel and make a spectacle. Her cheeks are already flaming with embarrassment already, and as some shapes manage to make sense to her she sees the old, stone building and feels a reel of doubt and fear.

She can't do this. It's too much.

But... She has to.

She wants to.

Maybe.


His hands, wrapping around hers.

His smile, enigmatic as usual, but with a hint of something else tonight.

I have sometime to ask you, Tina.


The door opens and she can hear music, music that makes her heart soar but her stomach sink at the same time. It is not the dreaded song, not yet, but she can hear the music leading up to that part. And while she would much rather stay in the car, sinking her clammy hands into the seat and cowering like a terrified child, some strange force pushes her out. She stumbles gracelessly as she gets out the car, trying not to fall and tear the expensive fabric on the train of her dress.

Her long dress.

Her long, white dress.


Heads turn in the restaurant and an excited murmur fills the room, the diners craning their necks to see if this is really happening. They know what is about to happen. They are almost as excited as he is. Their dinner goes forgotten, forks that are already halfway towards mouths drop onto plates. They cannot believe this is happening.

Every eye is fixated on Joey and Martina's table, breaths held in anticipation.

He gets out of his chair.

Time seems frozen for her. The only thing she can hear is the racing beat of her heart. How many times had she envisioned this moment before? Now it is happening, she feels disjointed from it. As though it is not really happening.


The doors are opened for her, and she grips onto her bouquet so tightly she feels stems of the flowers snap from underneath their satin fastenings. Her older brother, the only person she would dream of allowing to walk with her, stands alert beside her, murmuring praise that her ears tune out into one low hum. She cannot and will not focus on anything, except the long walk ahead of her and the inevitable terror.

A handful of girls in pastel dresses stand in front of her, blocking her from view for the moment. And suddenly, a million thoughts whirl through her head- is the dress she chose wrong, has her makeup smudged with the terror sweat she knows must be rolling down her face, will he take one look at her and rush out the church, will-

The music picks up. There is a riff.

She cannot breathe. She cannot move.

It is time.


He drops to one knee.

This is really happening.

Martina. I promise that I will love you forever, the way that a classy dragon lady- a pause, a wink.- should be loved.


The second set of doors open, but the crowd is mercifully blocked from view and she focuses on small details- each flower in the headdress of the girl in front of her, the ridiculous hats of the people in the pews around her. And she would happily just stay there, staring at trite things and wasting time, but the music surges around her and she is compelled to move forward. Her chest tightens with air she cannot exhale, because there is no way she can feel any form of relief at this moment. This is the pivotal event of her life- Martina, the DHSS woman with a heart of stone, is giving up some of her sharp single-and-happy aesthetic, all for a man that she hates with a vengeance but loves with a passion at the same time.

Martina Boswell.

She wants to throw up.


He reaches his hand into his pocket.


She takes one step, then another, knees trembling but hidden from the crowd under the long skirts of her dress. Still, a few ripples in the silk betray her nerves.


His hand is coming out his pocket now, and her eyes widen enormously when she sees the tiny jewellery box, because even though she knew this was coming it makes it all the more final, and suddenly she wants to see what's in the box but she also doesn't because she is so scared...


The bridesmaids peel away and into their places at the front of the church, and suddenly she can see him...


Will you marry me?


He stares at her for a few moments, eyes taking in the stunning sight of her in a wedding dress that is better than he had ever imagined.


She stares at the ring for a few moments, eyes taking in the stunning blue diamond that is better than she had ever imagined.


He smiles. And suddenly, that breaks through the terror in her veins because if he is happy and she is happy then it doesn't matter that what she is doing could be deemed weak and stupid, it doesn't matter that she's breaking her own rules regarding the Boswell clan.

She loves him.

And now, it all makes sense.


Yes. Yes, I will marry you.


"I do."


Voila! This may have been a little weird, but I hope you enjoyed it :) Sorry if it seemed short and rushed or something... What did you all think?