Request from monkeygirl872: "Could you please make a fanfic about Wemma based on the the broadway version of Wedding Singer. Mainly using If I Told You and Grow Old with you.:)"

A/N: I'm aware that the requester of this story actually made the same request to someone else... And there are no hard feelings. My story will be very different. Will isn't even a wedding singer.

Anyways, school is starting and I'm gonna be pretty busy, but hopefully I won't be too slow with the updates on this one. Enjoy! Please Review!


"Justin, I need a maple-glazed salmon and a grilled flank steak with extra mashed potatoes, pronto! I gave you the order twenty minutes ago, come on, let's go, let's go!" Emma waved her hand in the air, urging the chefs to cook their orders more quickly and efficiently, knowing her customers were very dissatisfied with long waits.

"Sorry, Emma. I'm almost done!" The soft-spoken chef shot Emma a quick smile and a wink before turning back around and continuing to cook the meal in front of him. When Emma rolled her eyes good-naturedly and walked out of the kitchen, Justin shook his head.

"Man, all the hot ones are never interested," he said to himself.

Outside of the stuffy kitchen, Emma was walking quickly over to table 9 to refill their drink orders. Her bouncy, straightened red hair flew behind her as she picked up the pace, preparing an apology inside her head for why the food wasn't ready yet. Even though a late restaurant meal wasn't that big of a deal, it made Emma anxious and worried. She hated when things didn't go according to plan, and if one little thing got messed up, often she would have a major freak out. Her coworkers called it OCD. She called it orderly.

Luckily, though, table 9 was a big party, twelve drunken adults, and she hoped they would be too busy socializing to realize how long the food was taking. As she approached the loud round table, one of the men stood up and held up his glass for a toast. She backed away slowly, standing awkwardly against the wall with a pitcher of beer, waiting for the man to finish his little speech.

"...And I'm so happy for you two as you begin this journey together. Rough as it may be," he was saying, and his wife elbowed him. "Anyways, I love you bro. And congrats on the engagement. To Will and Laura!" He raised his glass and clinked it with the rest of the table as the happy couple sitting next to him shared a loving kiss.

Emma chose that moment to approach the table and silently pour refills of alcohol into the already-drunk adults' glasses. Another man sitting at the opposite end of the table winked at Emma slyly.

"Thanks for the refill, pretty lady," he said with a mischievous grin. "I like that skirt."

Emma's mouth opened slightly and she abruptly closed it, not knowing what to say. Her face turned a deep shade of pink and she cleared her throat, embarrassed. Feeling quite uncomfortable, she tugged at the hem of her skirt, hating that the uniform the waitresses had to wear was so revealing and tight. The man whose engagement party it was (Will, she remembered his name was) nudged the flirty guy and shook his head.

"Come on man, that's so inappropriate," he said as his friend held up his hands, feigning innocence. Will looked up at Emma apologetically, and Emma smiled gratefully back down at him. He was a handsome man, to say the least. His brown curly hair was gelled back in an attractive way, framing his face quite nicely. His puppy dog eyes pleaded forgiveness for his friend, and a small dimple appeared in his chin when he smiled sheepishly at her. She looked at him, dazed, for a moment, then snapped back to reality (and her job) as he subtly placed a hand on his fiancée's back. She chuckled nervously and walked off to retrieve their dinner orders.

As she walked she shook her head, trying to rid her brain of the image of the beautiful man grinning up at her. She needed to focus on her job. Besides, she was engaged. And apparently, so was he. The rest of the night passed uneventfully; Emma tried as best as she could to avoid curly-haired handsome. It wasn't often that Emma found a man attractive and sweet at the same time, and she wasn't used to it at all. She couldn't help but glance over at table 9 every few minutes, smiling at his slightly drunken actions.

Finally, Emma's shift was over and she pulled on her warm red coat, said goodbye to her coworkers, and headed out to the parking lot. Once she opened the back door, she was hit with a blast of chilly air, and she pulled the coat tighter around her slim body so as not to let any cold air inside. She had just reached her small blue car when she glanced up to see the handsome man from table 9 bidding farewell to his friend.

"Bye Trent! See you at work!" His voice was overly loud and a bit slurred from the alcohol he had consumed earlier that night. He began to walk clumsily in Emma's direction, a grimace painted onto his gorgeous features. All of a sudden, he walked into a slippery puddle of water and lost his footing, falling flat on his face with his arms sprawled out in front of him. Emma gasped and hurried over to him, kneeling down gingerly.

"Are you okay?" she asked frantically, putting a hand on his arm. "That was a pretty hard fall."

He looked up at her and covered his face with his hands, smiling sheepishly for the second time that night. He pulled himself up to a sitting position and rubbed his temples.

"I'm fine," he said with a grin. "Just embarrassed." Emma smiled and offered her hand to help him up off the dirty ground, which he gladly took.

"I'm not usually this clumsy," he said. "It's the alcohol."

"I figured," Emma said with a small laugh. "I refilled your guys' drinks about fifty times tonight."

Will's face lit up with recognition. "Oh, you're the waitress!"

"Guilty," she smiled.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about my cousin hitting on you," he said sincerely. "He does that to all beautiful women. I could tell it made you uncomfortable."

Emma shook her head with a small smile, still flabbergasted at the fact that he had called her beautiful.

"I'm Will." He held out his hand, offering her that dazzling smile.

"Emma." She smiled back at him.

"Well, I should probably get going," he said, holding his key up to beep his car unlocked. She looked at him questioningly, tilting her head.

"You don't plan to drive home...?"

"Oh... yeah, I mean it's not favorable, but I came here separately from my fiancée. I had to come straight from work. So... I have the car." He scratched his head.

"You can't drive... You're drunk." Emma had lost track of the number of times she had refilled his glass.

"That I am..." Will muttered, realizing Emma was right.

"You... you didn't have a designated driver?"

"Well, I did, but he took my friends home... I didn't want to leave the car... I guess I'll just call the cab company." He put his hand in his pocket, then fished around frantically.

"Shit, Laura has my wallet..." he muttered to himself. "You know, I don't cuss when I'm sober either." He addressed Emma. She smiled.

"Look, um... where do you live?"

"Over by Griffith Park."

"We're neighbors. I live over on Foster," Emma chuckled. "Listen, I'll drive you home."

"Are... are you sure?"

"Absolutely," she nodded. "I don't know if I'd want you driving around even sober." The corners of her mouth turned up and she giggled at his bewildered expression.

"It was a joke!"

His eyes widened. "Right, right." That adorable sheepish smile again. They walked a few cars down and Emma motioned to her small car.

"This is me." She unlocked it, climbing in and taking her time neatly stacking some papers in the backseat so Will could sit down. Once situated, she started up the engine and began to drive away from the restaurant.

"Your car is very neat," Will commented with a lazy smile.

"Yeah... I guess that's just how I am. A neat freak." She smiled back. He raised his eyebrows, but said nothing more.

"I really appreciate you driving me home, Emma," Will said. His voice was still slightly slurred, and Emma held back a giggle. How was it that he still came across as sweet and sincere, even when he was drunk?

She made a left turn, and Will caught sight of a sparkly ring on her finger.

"Married?" He was just making conversation. He wasn't curious at all.

"Not yet." She smiled at the subject. "In a few months." Her mind wandered to her fiancé, Carl. He was a lawyer, a big time one, and he was very good to her. He hadn't wanted a big white wedding, but he had agreed to one because Emma had wanted one so much.

"You love him?" Will said fuzzily, noting the smile on her face. She nodded.

"How about you? How long have you and your fiancée been together?"

"Gosh, I don't even know." Will's brow furrowed. "Like a year, maybe. We kept... getting bored of each other but then running back into each other's arms, so finally, I asked her to marry me so that she wouldn't run away anymore."

Emma bit her lip, looking over at Will for a second. She didn't voice her opinion that that was a horrible reason to marry someone.

"I don't want to be alone for the rest of my life." Will felt like he needed to justify himself.

Emma snorted. "That would never happen."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, uh... nothing." Her cheeks flushed. "Just that... you know, you're a... good-looking guy and... and women would be all over you if you were single."

"Is that so?" She could see his smiling teeth in the darkness.

"Don't get all cocky on me," she held back a smile.

"I'm not, I'm not!" He held up his hands in innocence, a smile playing on his lips. "So... how's... waitressing? You seem much to sophisticated and smart to be a waitress." If Will were sober, he would have added a "no offense," but he wasn't sober. And he didn't think about how his little thoughtless statement might offend her. Luckily, though, Emma raised her eyebrows and chuckled.

"Oh, I'm not a waitress." Emma giggled. Will's eyebrows lifted in confusion. "But you were..."

"We were very short-staffed tonight. I had to put on the skanky-" she rolled her eyes "-waitress uniform and serve some tables. But I'm a chef. I have been ever since I was six years old and learned how to make toast."

"Oh! Wow..." Will laughed softly, surprised by this new information.

Somehow, they got to talking about their upcoming weddings, a subject Emma loved talking about.

"We hired the most wonderful wedding planner, and he has done such a good job so far, I'm so glad we hired him, although I don't like the flowers he has in mind, I was thinking more of..." She cut herself off. "Oh gosh, I'm rambling. I always do that."

"No, no, not at all! I like listening to you."

She smiled shyly.

"Besides, you're giving me some pretty good ideas for my own wedding. I should probably start thinking about that stuff..." his voice lowered to a murmur. "If it ever happens." Emma pretended not to hear the last part.

"So um..." she cleared her throat. "I could um, I could give you the number of my wedding planner, if you'd like." He nodded gratefully. She chuckled at his obvious inexperience with wedding planning.

"You know, I could help you out if you want. Give you some tricks of the trade I've picked up along the way."

His eyes widened.

"That would be amazing." His voice was still slightly slurred, and Emma smiled, reaching into the glove compartment and handing him an unopened water bottle. He thanked her, taking a long swig of the refreshing water. By the time they had gotten off of the freeway, the cool water had cleared most of the fuzziness from Will's brain, and he had no trouble directing Emma to his apartment. When they arrived at his place, Will unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to Emma.

"Thanks a lot," he said sincerely. "I'm glad you were there at the restaurant to tell me when my judgment is horrible."

She chuckled softly and shook her head.

"It's no problem." There was a small silence. "Oh, um, I almost forgot." She rummaged in her purse, retrieving a piece of paper and a pen, and scribbled down a few digits.

"Here's my cell number," she said, handing him the wrinkled paper. "Call me and we can talk about weddings." Her smile was infectious.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah... Laura's here... probably asleep."

"Okay, well... you know, if you need anything..." Even she wasn't sure what she was offering. "A DD again..." she joked. He smiled.

"It was really nice talking to you," he said, putting his hand on the car door handle.

"Likewise," she smiled back.