Mikey Ramone was happy for his older brother.
Really, he was.
Finally, at the ripe old age of 26, he and who everyone was expecting him to, Dorothy Ann Parker-- Wait. Ramone, were married. They had been for about two and a half hours now. They were well into the dancing part of the service now.
Over the years they had become quite the handsome couple. Carlos with his tall frame and latino charm. D.A. with her small, curvy frame and long blonde hair.
Not to say Mikey hadn't grown, when standing straight, he would have hit just under Carlos' 6'1 frame. But he was often confined to sitting.
Mikey Ramone was wheelchair bound.
No, I'm really serious.
This made it hard to dance. Even with a technological magic chair, he could do little than spin and do slight wheelies. It was kind of discouraging, so he sat by himself at a table. The night had been pretty nice. After giving a nice toast, himself, Dorothy Ann's (Or Ann, as she was called now) sister, Emily, gave a nicer toast, and then, a drunken Ralphie had slurred out a heartfelt proclamation, ("I love you guys, man!") and then the dancing had started.
The dancing had been happening for about an hour now.
24 year old Mikey Ramone had had five champaignes. But he could hold his liquor, and he kept it balanced with food, mostly h'or dourves. Or however you spell that.
-----
Emily Rose Parker was estatic for her older sister.
Of course she was. It was in her nature.
She was even more estatic that she beat out her sister's three best friends to be the Maid of Honor. Well, two best friends. With Phoebe already married, that would make her a matron of honor.
Whatever. She beat them.
Despite the fact that she felt a little awkward walking next to Mikey, who was rolling along in his wheelchair, she had a good time talking to him after the ceremony was over. He had even laughingly admitted that her toast was better, but they agreed that Ralphie had outdone them both. ("Oh god! You guys are going to be soooooo GREAT!!!!")
They shared a small laugh about that one.
She had been dancing with whoever would dance with her, with her little cousins, with Carlos' cousins, with old men and people around her age. She didn't have a date to dance with, she'd cut in to dance with the others, Ralphie, drunk as he may be, was probably her favorite, as he tended to lift up her small, slender, (Yes, slender. Ann had gained the curviness in the family,) and twirled her around.
She may have been 22, but it was an oddly formed adreniline rush.
Until he would basically drop her and that would be the end of that.
She looked around. After dancing with every man and child between the ages of 2 and 82 (Grandpa Parker, if you needed to know), she had noticed the lack of wheelchair on the dancefloor. Peering around the dancers she spotted him at a table. While he wasn't the lone soul at the tables, the other people were at least seated together.
He was alone, drinking and looking a tad bit bored.
She weaved her way through the throngs of happy couples, (it was a slow song,) and plopped down in a chair next to the Best Man.
-----
Mikey Ramone was shocked.
He didn't like to be pitied.
"Why are you here? You should be dancing with some lucky guy." He said, grinning.
"Because you're all by your lonesome." She said, matter of factly. Her long brown-blonde hair had started falling out of it's bun. "And my feet hurt. So I want to sit with you for a little bit." She smiled happily.
-----
Dorothy Ann nudged Carlos from the dance floor. "Look, sweetie. Look." She tilted her head in the direction of the tables, where her little sister and new brother-in-law were both laughing, drinking, being merry. You know.
"Another Parker-Ramone wedding? I dare think your mother isn't going to want to pay for the next one, too." He grinned at her, continuing to sway her back and forth.
"Oh, you shush. But they do look happy together, don't they?"
-----
And they did.
The End.
Author's Notes: ... Oh dear lord. Did that suck as much as I thought it did?
And DA's sister IS named Emily... right?
Right!? D: