Disclaimer: I own nothing at all. Just my love of this couple.
A/N: This is a future fic, set five years after George left Lemon at the alter. Of course, the italics are flashbacks. Oneshot.
They had just won a huge case that George didn't think they had a chance in hell to win. He sat around the booth with the rest of his colleagues and downed his first shot of the night. There weren't many nights that he let loose and had fun with the guys, but this was cause for a celebration. He felt a gust of wind against the left side of his body as the restaurant door opened and more customers piled in. It wasn't until they sat down that he recognized the familiar blue-eyed face that was seated across the room with a group of girls.
Annabeth looked up from the other side of the room and caught George's glance. She smiled, warmly, and gave him a friendly wave, nudging Lemon's foot under the table. "Lemon, I do believe that George Tucker is here," she said, laughing a little to herself, "I'll be damned."
Lemon looked up at Annabeth with a furrowed brow, and then followed her gaze to the other side of the room. As soon as she caught his eyes, she smiled softly, not the least bit surprised that she saw him the night before her wedding. That was about right. George smiled back to her, giving her a small wave of his hand, surprised that he would see her down in south Louisiana.
"Lemon, George Tucker hasn't taken his eyes off of you this entire class period," Annabeth whispered to a fifteen-year-old Lemon Breeland, who ducked her head with a small smile at her comment.
Lemon slowly lifted her head and looked across the classroom, blushing with a shy smile when she noticed his gaze never faltered and his eyes were locked on hers. When the bell rang, Lemon was broken out of her trance and she immediately started getting her things together.
Before she could even stand up out of her desk, George was in front of her, gently taking her books out of her hands and tucking them under his arm, "I'll walk you to your next class if that's okay."
Biting her bottom lip to stop her enormous grin, Lemon simply nodded and walked next to George into the halls of Blue Bell High. She had known George her entire life, but the second their hormones kicked in, it was like they were strangers that went into mush when they were around one another.
"I'm just going to cut to the chase, Lemon," George started, nervously glancing down at his feet as he walked. "I was wondering if there was any way I could have the pleasure of taking you to the Sweetheart dance?"
Lemon looked up at him, her entire body giddy, but her mouth frozen to where she couldn't even mutter a simple 'yes.' Her eyes were bright, her face bright pink, and George couldn't help, but feel his heart jump into his throat.
"Lemon Breeland, I have known you my whole life and I have never known you to be speechless, so can you please give me an answer before my stomach twists itself into a knot?"
With a laugh and a shake of her blonde curls, Lemon put her hand on his arm and looked up at his nervous face. "Of course I will," she said, grinning at him. "I've been waiting on you to ask all week."
The smooth sounds of saxophones brought Lemon back to reality and she looked back to George, noticing his attention was back to the group of men sitting with him. She smiled, sadly, as she looked over at him and then took a big sip of her wine. Just as she had averted her attention back to her bridesmaids, she heard the raspy voice of the jazz singer as he began his next song,"I see trees of green, red roses too. I see them bloom, for me and you. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world."
She closed her eyes and laughed to herself, running a hand through her golden locks. No one around the table noticed, but that song always took her back when she heard it. There were times she even had to change the station, because hearing it made her sick at her stomach.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up, smiling when she saw George's face. He offered his hand to her with a genuine grin, "I can't let this song end without asking you for a friendly dance."
"How could I say no to that?"
They both knew there was nothing friendly about dancing to their song, but Lemon agreed anyway, placing her hand gently in his palm. Just touching his skin made a lump form in her throat, but she swallowed it down and stood up, letting him lead her to the dance floor.
He pulled her into him and placed his right hand on her waist while his other hand slipped into hers, the warmth was familiar, but foreign. She gently placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled up at him when she caught him staring down at her.
"How's that pretty wife of yours?" Lemon asked him, swaying with the music that she knew all too well.
George shrugged and dipped Lemon back, pulling her up quickly as he watched her laugh. "She's as busy as ever. We both get so busy that we hardly ever make time for one another, but that should change soon. We've recently talked about moving back to Blue Bell."
"Have you?" Lemon asked, raising her eyebrows. "Well, I think that's a good idea. Blue Bell needs an attorney in town. I think they are getting tired of driving to Mobile just for a little legal advice."
He laughed, nodding, as he clenched her fingers tighter in his hand. "And you, you're engaged, I heard."
"My wedding is tomorrow."
"Ah," George smiled down, surprised at her answer and glanced over to her table full of girls. "This is your bachelorette party. New Orleans? I'm very impressed, Lemon Breeland."
She laughed and glanced back at the girls, before looking back at him. "You know, Annabeth and Magnolia thought I should spice it up," she glanced down at her feet, trying not to remember the way she felt when he left her at the alter, "he's a great guy."
"That's what Wade said."
"You ask about me?"
"I've known you my entire life, you were the biggest part of it for fifteen years," George replied, smiling down at her. "I think it is normal to check up on you."
She didn't reply and he spun her around before pulling her back in close to him, both laughing when her body hit his a little too roughly. He grinned back and touched the ends of her hair with his fingertips, "I like your hair long. Reminds me of the young, wild Lemon I used to know."
A week before her seventeenth birthday, she sat on the tailgate of George Tucker's truck in her sparkly yellow prom dress. Her makeup had smeared all over her face and George stood in front of her, rubbing her hands that were resting in his palms. She had finally calmed down from her uncontrollable sob and she stared blankly into the sky as she gained her composure once more.
"I don't think she's coming back, George," Lemon said, wiping the mascara off her tear-stained cheeks. "It's been two weeks, and I just don't think she's coming back. What are we going to do? My dad is a wreck, I have to step up and raise a two-year-old. I just don't know how."
He didn't know how to reply. What could he possibly say to make this better? Instead, he continued rubbing her hands, moving up her arms and gently to her back, pulling her closer to him. She rested her head on his chest and tried not to start crying again. His white shirt was already smudged with blush and tears underneath his black suit.
"It's her loss," George finally said, unsure if it was even the right thing to say. "Magnolia will be a fine young woman if you raise her. You don't have to be her mother, though. Your dad can parent her, you just be her big sister. And as for your mother, she doesn't know what she's missing, and I promise you, I never want to miss it. I'll never leave you, Lemon. I'm here, always."
She felt her throat tighten as tears rolled down her cheeks once again. She wiped at them, closing her eyes and resting against him just to hear him breath. After a moment, she raised her head to look up at him, ashamed at how her face must look. She always had her makeup perfectly in place when she was around him.
"I'm sorry I made you miss our junior prom," she whispered, sadly staring up at him.
George couldn't help but crack a smile and kiss her forehead, rubbing her back even more. "Miss Breeland, you care way more about that silly dance than I do. I only do this stuff for you." He stepped back, holding her at arm's length and grinned, "but I do think you are owed a dance."
He left her sitting there and went around to the cab of his truck, opening the door and rolling down the windows before leaning in and turning on the radio, tuning the stations until he found one playing clear music. He turned up the volume and went around, holding out his hand to her, "May I have this dance?"
Lemon smiled through her tears and slid her hand into his, slipping off the tail gate and resting against his chest, "I love this song."
"It's a good song," he said as he enveloped her in his arms and rested his cheek on the top of her head, "now you just cry all you want, baby."
And she did, as Louis Armstrong's voice filled the air around them.
"I see skies of blue, and clouds of white. The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world..."
The song ended and George stepped back, placing a hand on her cheek. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, softly, "Congratulations, Lemon. It was really good seeing you."
Lemon smiled up at him, her throat tight, tears threatening to fall. She sometimes still longed for the days when she was so excited to be Mrs. Tucker. It's hard to forget your first love, but its even harder when he was your love for over a decade. "You too, George."
Review please? First Hart of Dixie fic!