Tales of the Longest Night
Acepilot
AN - The second Road series movie-length thingy. Set entirely on the night of Tommy and Lil's wedding and including the wedding night fics as a part of it's narrative, but mostly it focusses on new material surrounding those stories. I hope you all enjoy it.
Oh, and as pertains to alcohol…in Australia, it is legal for people to drink at age 18 (16 if supervised by their legal guardian). Now, I know that the show and these fics are set in America, but I'm using the Australia a.o.c because it makes much, much more sense.
Road series trivia break no.109 – "Tales of the Longest Night" was the original name for the story that ended up being called "The Twilight Couch" (no.27 in the Road series).
This fanfiction contains material from the following fanfics –
#16 – Under This Moon
#1 – Road Trip
#9 – I've Been Asked To Say A Few Words
All written by Acepilot.
Disclaimer - the characters contained within this fic are property of KlaskyCsupo.
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The Tale of Tommy and Lil
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"Are you sure you should eat tonight? You look like you're going to throw up."
With anyone other than my brother, that might be considered an unusual greeting. But this is my brother we're talking about, so I just shrug as he steps out of my way and lets me into my old house.
"I won't throw up," I tell him. "Do you have the food?"
"Yeah," he says, leading me into the kitchen. I've got to admit that, no matter how much I love my apartment (especially the fact that it's not just my apartment anymore, but our apartment), this house will always feel like home. "Probably be best if you didn't. Strikes me as a real mood-killer."
I laugh, but - admittedly - nervously. "How're things going, anyway?"
Dil leans against the kitchen bench. "Can't complain."
I raise an eyebrow. "And..."
He sighs. "Yeah, alright. It's not going well. We're not talking."
I step forward and clasp his shoulder. "I'm sorry, man."
He bites his lower lip and breathes deeply. "I just...I miss her, T..."
He leans into my shoulder and I hug him comfortingly, feeling him trying not to cry. I don't think any of us really understood how much Amanda had meant to him until this whole thing happened. It's not fair for him to have to go through this.
He manages to bring himself under control. "Sorry," he mutters, wiping unwept tears out of the corners of his eyes.
I ache for the fun-loving Dil I used to know. He's still there...but not nearly as often as he used to be. "Don't be."
He breathes deeply. "Alright, I'm okay." Personally, I'm less than convinced, but I decide not to argue the point. "Here, I've got your food ready to go." He steps over to the oven and withdraws an array of dishes that I'd requested and started loading them into a picnic basket. "Hope you don't eat too much of this. You won't be able to get down on one knee for your stomach."
I chuckle. "Let's just hope I don't wuss out."
He shakes his head at me. "You won't wuss out, T," he insists. "You love her too much for that."
I regard him with wonder in my eyes. "You'll get through this, Dil. You'll get her."
He smiles at me weakly. "I hope so."
"I know it. Who couldn't resist your other-worldly charms, little bro?"
I was kind of hoping to leave without having to confront Mom and Dad. I hadn't exactly told them that I was hoping to propose to Lil tonight...and I will admit to being worried that Mom - the old romantic that she is - will try and mess around with my plan. Or, even worse, give me an 'are you sure you're ready?' kind of speech. I'm really not in the mood for either. If they happened then it would probably ruin my nerve entirely.
I got half my wish.
"Hey, Tommy, you come home and you don't even say hi to your good old dad?"
I turn around, inches away from the door, and put the picnic basket down carefully. "Hey, Dad. How are you?"
He shrugs. "Can't complain." He wipes a grease stain off his forehead. "I think I've almost got the Whirly Dog worked out if you want to come and check it out."
I smile but shake my head. "Uh...I've kind of got something to do tonight..."
He spots the picnic basket by my feet. "Ah. Lil?" I nod, and he grins knowingly. "You're going to propose to her, aren't you?"
My jaw probably drops about ten inches. "I'm what?"
"Well...the picnic dinner, probably somewhere romantic, candles, so on and so forth...you've been together for a few years...I've got to admit that I envisioned you being older when this happened - but..."
"You won't tell Mom, will you?" I ask - almost plead. "At least, not until I've actually done it. I'm just so worried I'm going to wuss out tonight, and there's no point in getting her excited over nothing -"
"Your secret is safe with me," he assures me. "You won't wuss out, though."
"I'm not so sure," I tell him. "I just...well, it seems like a lot to commit. The rest of my life and all."
"Oh, it is," he tells me. "And it won't be easy. I mean, even after you've gotten married, you'll still fight, and have a hard time making it work. But let me assure you - it's worth it."
"You have no regrets?" I ask.
"None," he tells me. "If I hadn't asked your mother to marry me when I did, we might not have gotten married. We might have both come to our senses and realised that things were going to be hard to work out between an aspiring artist and a teacher-in-training -"
"Artist?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Dad has the decency to look sheepish. "Before I discovered science. I was a part of the new wave movement."
I look at him in a different light. My dad, an artist?
"What happened?" I ask.
"The wave ended," he tells me. "Anyway, we knew it would be tough. But it was fantastic - and more than worth it. We were in love. Plus, it gave us you and Dil. And that was the best part of all."
I think about that for a second. "We're not hoping to have kids right away," I tell him.
He nods. "I didn't think you were. Just...keep in mind that there are a lot of things to experience with her. Whenever you think about not asking her, don't think of how scary everything is now, think of how great everything is going to be."
I smile. "Thanks, Dad."
"No problem," he assures me. "Sure you can't check out the Whirly Dog? You've got some time before evening."
I shake my head. "I've got to go see someone first," I tell him. "I'll come see you guys soon, okay?"
He nods. "Definitely. And bring your fiancee along for the trip, alright?"
I smile. "No question about it."
I walk over to the car, and get in, putting the picnic basket down carefully on the floor in front of the passenger's side seat. I think about what my father just said to me, and what I'd been thinking about all day.
And I think about whether or not I really want to go and see the person who I told myself I should.
But, in the end, I don't really have any choice at all.
I pull out of my parents' driveway and head off into the orange sunset.
---
"Hey, man. Good to see you."
I look around Phil's rather drab excuse for an apartment before looking at him quizzically.
"Maid's day off," he elaborates, grinning. "Want a drink?"
"Nah," I tell him, before taking a deep breath. "I just...I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to propose to Lil tonight."
He doesn't say a single word. Suddenly a drink sounds like a mighty fine idea after all.
I'm about to check if he's still breathing when he finally vocalises - "So you're not going to wait until next week, then?"
I shake my head, even though he's not looking at me. "No. If I do I might lose my nerve entirely."
He turns around and I'm relieved to see him smiling. "It's about time you made my sister an honest woman, Tommy. I'm proud of you."
The concept of Phil being proud of me almost - almost - makes me chuckle, but I refrain. As he smiles at me, it occurs to me that I'm the only member of my circle of…well, male friends that has managed to enjoy a successful working relationship. I don't know – I always kind of thought that Phil and Kimi would pace us, that it would be almost a race between us to see who would get engaged first, who would get married, who would have the first kid…well, I guess it just goes to show that not everything goes like you thought it would. I mean, Phil and Kimi were as in love as anyone I've ever met, and look at them now. I doubt they've spoken to each other for the best part of a year.
"Thanks, Phil."
It makes me wonder…if a relationship that was as written in the stars as Phil and Kimi's was could fail, then what right has mine with Lil – which could very easily have not been seen coming – have to succeed? We don't fight or anything…not since just after we got together, anyway…but what if it doesn't work out? Like Phil and Kimi, we might just fall apart, or something. I don't know if I could bear that.
Maybe I'm moving too fast with her. Maybe we should slow down.
"I don't think I'll ever have the guts to propose to anyone," Phil admits, cutting into my internal musing. "I don't know if I have it in me."
"You?" I ask, laughingly. "You, not have it in you to schmooze a lady? Don't make me laugh."
"What?" he asks, offended. "I'm serious. Commitment is…well, it's not something I do well. Ask Kimi." He makes a pained face. "On second thoughts, don't."
"I'll run with the latter," I tell him, before my brain catches up with my ears. "Hang on. You and Kimi broke up because you wouldn't commit?"
He shakes his head. "Oh, no. We broke up because…well, for a lot of reasons. We didn't have a very good relationship. I was…I was…"
"You can say it, Phil. It's not like I'm going to think you're a wuss or anything."
"I was in love with her, and I just kind of took her for granted. I assumed she'd always be there for me. So we didn't do the date thing – well, not as much as she would have liked, anyway…she just got tired of me being a macho jerk, I guess would be a good way of putting it."
"Do you think that Lil and I will have problems like that?" I ask. "I mean, do you think we could break up because I don't do everything for her when we're married like I do now?"
He smiles and shakes his head. "I don't think you'll ever have that problem. And if you do, it'll be a long time from now when you're old and grey. Don't let her catch you reading…anything you shouldn't, and you ought to be right." My girlfriend's brother raises an eyebrow at me. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet."
I nod, glumly.
"Tommy, there's nothing to it. You just ask the girl. And I can tell you now that the answer is going to be yes. I know my sister well enough to tell that wild horses wouldn't stop her from marrying you."
I grin. "Thanks, Phil." I look him in the eyes. "So, why didn't you ever try to make things right with Kimi?"
He shrugs, kind of sadly. "I don't know. Stupidity, probably. I think there probably hasn't been a day this last year when I haven't said to myself, 'Today's the day that I'm going to go and make things right, that I'm going to tell her that I love her and that I want her back.' I don't think I'm beyond begging," he tells me.
I'm a little taken aback. "So…"
He doesn't appear to follow. "So what?"
"So why haven't you gone and begged and pleaded and stuff?" I ask, exasperated.
He shakes his head. "I don't know if I could take the rejection."
I nod. "I was afraid of that."
He rolls his eyes. "Tommy, stop worrying and definitely – definitely – do not use me as an example. My love life sucks. But my sister loves you, so don't stress about it."
I nod. "Alright, Phil. Hey…thanks, man. I think I really needed this."
"I think you really needed it too," he agrees. "But you also need one more thing," he tells me.
I raise an eyebrow as he gets up and walks over to his wine-rack. Surprisingly, Phil doesn't drink beer, as per a college norm. No, he prefers spirits. But during our later teen years, we went on a wine tour once. That was fun. Dil got very tipsy – I've still got the pictures, just no good blackmail opportunities yet.
But Phil came away with it with a surprising new fondness for a nice red. Lil and I got him the wine rack for Christmas last year.
He withdraws – very carefully – a bottle and presses it into my hands. "This was the wine I was saving for the night I got back together with Kimi. But seeing as that is probably not going to happen anytime soon…" he pulls away, "I want you and Lil to have it. My engagement present to you."
"Phil, I…don't know what to say."
He just shrugs and waves, kind of. "Don't say anything. Don't thank me or I might ask for it back. Just…go make my sister happy."
"What about your happiness?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "I'll find it sooner or later."
---
"Where are you taking me?"
"It wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you, now, would it?" I pointed out to her, and she huffed angrily.
"That wasn't the answer I was hoping for, Thomas."
I grin and pull her into my arms for a moment, pressing my lips gently to hers - barely a peck really. "I was hoping you'd trust me, Lillian."
I can't see her eyes, but I don't have to. She's grinning broadly as she hooks an arm around my neck, pulling me back to kiss me again. "Not on your life, Pickles."
It's almost like we're drunk or something. Maybe we are. At the risk of sounding hopelessly corny and overly romantic, we're drunk on each other. In the words of one of the more amusing authors of our time, I'm so high you could bounce intercontinental TV off me. This is what being young and in love is all about. As much as it's about angst and dread and pain, it's about enjoyment, about bliss, about simple, pure happiness, the kind that borders on silliness.
We've had our pain. Now it's our turn to be silly.
"Come on," I say, grabbing her hand again. "It's not much further."
"Good," she says, allowing me to pull her along. "Because if it is, then you're carrying me."
"I see no reason that can't be arranged," I whisper in her ear in the most sultry voice I can summon, but it's somewhat ruined by the fact that I can't quite keep a straight face. She can't either, and cracks up laughing, collapsing against my side in hysterical giggles, which only serves to drag me down with her. In moments the two of us are rolling around on the ground in fits of laughter, looking, I'm sure, quite a sight. But hey. This is what being young and in love is all about. And I'm going to enjoy this beautiful evening with my lover, and I'm not going to give two hoots if I look stupid doing it.
I finally manage to bring her over the crest of the hill, reaching behind her head and tugging the blindfold loose, which she immediately rips off her face. "I swear, Tommy Pickles, the next time you approach me with a blindfold I'm going to be sensible and say 'no' straight away," she mutters, flinging the cloth at me.
"Why did you say yes this time?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"In the hopes that romance was involved," she tells me, taking my hands in hers. I slide my palms up the back of her arms, cupping her elbows in my palms.
"We're on a hill under a near-full-moon," I point out. "And you think romance isn't involved?"
She grins and leans in to peck me on the cheek. "You never disappoint, do you?"
"I live to please you, my dear," I tell her, offering a deep, formal bow.
"You're lucky I'm not the kind who would take advantage of a statement like that."
I wrap an arm around her shoulder and guide her a little further across the hill. "Your dinner awaits, madam."
Alright, so I'm not ashamed to admit that I got some help with this part of the plan. I make no claims to be able to cook, you see. So I rustled up my only viable resource in that department - Dil. I've used up all my favors to make sure this evening went perfectly. I used three favors from Dil to get the meal. I used a favor from Suzie to help Dil set it all up. And I called in a favor from Phil to make sure he didn't follow us.
So, when she sees the immaculately laid picnic rug, complete with candles, basket full of assorted goodies, and all accentuated by the gorgeous moonlight and utters, "Oh, Tommy, it's wonderful," I have a slight pang of guilt, and know that I'm going to have to be extra nice to all involved for at least two months.
I take her hand as formally as I can manage without having an urge to just grab her and ravage her now - it's a touch-and-go moment, but my strength prevails knowing that we're more likely to have fun once we're fed and watered - and lead her to the rug, where she falls to her knees and folds her legs up under her. I follow suit, and my heart suddenly starts racing. This has gone well enough so far. How much longer it all holds out for is another question.
I pour the wine delicately. Good thing we're on grass, or else I'd smash the glasses for sure. As it is, I manage not to drop them, but it's a near thing.
Must remind Chuckie not to do this if he ever gets himself a girlfriend.
I offer her a glass and she shakes her head at me, almost as if in amazement. "Y'know, every time I think I've got you figured out, you go and do something completely unexpected."
I raise an eyebrow. "You don't think I can be romantic?"
She shakes her head quickly, anxiously. "Oh, no. I knew you could be romantic. But this is something else entirely."
"Well, I did want the actual full moon, but it was already booked," I tell her, sipping my own wine a bit nervously, hoping to hell that she hasn't noticed the fact that my hands are trembling like nobody's business.
She giggles, and it relieves a bit of tension from my shoulders. "This is perfect, Tommy."
That relieved a lot of tension. "What can I interest you in?" I ask, indicating the basket.
"Surprise me," she says, flashing me that mischievous little grin, peering at me from over the top of her wine glass with the candlelight playing off the humor in her eyes.
"As you wish." Right. What did Dil cook?
I emerge victorious from the basket with a light, economical, but still extravagant meal - just two courses and some bread, but hey - that's all we needed.
"Is that chicken?"
God I hope so. "Yep."
She quirks her eyebrow at me, but other than that just grins. "Okay."
I manage to tentatively set out two plates of the hopefully-chicken and salad, with a roll on the side of each of them. There's a near-disaster when I very almost drop the salad container, but thankfully disaster is averted with nothing more than a slightly disbelieving grin from my beloved.
I pass her a plate, thankful that neither of us feel the necessity to talk. I always found it difficult to have discussions during meals. I think she does too, so thankfully it isn't much of a strain on our relationship. I just hope it stays that way. Or that if one of us changes, both of us do.
We're too compatible to stop being so now.
"Is there desert?" She asks when we're finished, refilling our wine glasses. The candles are burning down and the scent of the flowers of the gardens hangs heavy on the early-evening air. It makes the entire world smell sweet, for some reason making this whole scenario even more dreamlike and impossibly beautiful.
I look in the basket. "Yep."
She chuckles. "So, what did Dil make for us?"
I knew she never really believed that I had prepared the meal. It just kind of bit that I couldn't have fooled her at all. "Apple crumble."
"My favorite," she whispers, shuffling across the blanket to sit closer to me.
"I know. I told him," I return, sliding next to her, so close that her breath is warm on my face, so close that I just have to lean a little forward to press my lips to hers.
"Good," she whispers, then her actions mirror my thoughts, and I feel her petal-soft lips against my own. I never get tired of this feeling. I never can get tired of this feeling. Every time I kiss her, it impossibly makes me feel...it's like it's our first kiss all over again. The electricity in my gut, the way my body tingles from the tips of my fingers to the base of my spine, and the way my legs feel like they're going to give out entirely.
Her legs do give out entirely, and we fall from a kneeling position on the rug to lying down in the pale moonlight, my hand brushing her beautiful brown hair, accentuated by that lone streak of red, away from her eyes.
"I love you," she whispers to me.
"And I love you," I return, capturing her lips, dessert forgotten...
---
I kiss her gently on the forehead. "I think I just died and went to heaven," I mutter, collapsing back onto the rug, pulling my abandoned coat over the two of us as some sort of protection against the elements. And people, of course, though I'd be highly surprised if anyone just happened to be wandering by and caught a glimpse of the two of us. The joggers preferred the park.
Hang on. All this thinking is distracting me from what really matters.
So with that, I look down merely at the content, beautiful woman tucked in under my arm, her head nestled in the crook of my neck. "I think that heaven's got nothing on this." She kisses me on the cheek before snuggling into me again, making an almost-drugged sigh. "I've never been this happy in my life."
Right. Perfect cue. Perfect moment. Nothing stopping you, nothing to lose. Well, everything to lose, but hey - nothing ventured nothing gained. Nothing lost either, unless maybe I wait too long, and -
My hand, of it's own volition, has crept into the pocket of the coat that is laying on top of us, and found a small, oblong object.
"You're happy?"
She raises her head slightly and looks at me with odd puzzlement. "Yes, of course."
"Wanna marry me, then?"
I had a speech. I had a beautiful, long, drawn out speech about the beauty of love, the shortness of life, and the wonder that is Lillian DeVille. But somehow it all seemed overblown in that one moment. And no matter what I had planned, no matter what I could have said, it was this moment that counted.
"Do I want to what?"
"Marry me," I tell her.
Here, under the light of the moon, the dim light of the dying candles flickering over us, holding her in my arms, I've never been happier. It's never gone so right, and life has never been so beautiful. It's as if all my lucky stars are shining down on me, as if this one night, everything's arrayed for me. For us.
"Yes, I do want to marry you," she says.
For us.
If I wasn't naked and holding a naked girl close to my body, I'd have seriously jumped around for joy right that moment.
I flick open the ringbox with my thumb and present it to her, and she lets out a little squeal. As much as she likes to deny it, she has her girly-girly moments. And they're so cute, I wouldn't miss them for the world. I grasp the ring and shake it loose from the box, letting the case fall to the ground and sliding the ring onto her finger.
"Let's do it now."
Let's what?
"Pardon?"
She looks away from the ring, into my eyes. "Let's go get married now."
"What, like, elope?"
She nods, mischief evident in those eyes of hers. "Yeah! It'd be great!"
"Our parents would kill us!" I whisper, but my voice has gone high-pitched in excitement. Adrenaline is suddenly pulsing through my veins.
"Who cares? We can do some big reception thingy for them some other time. But I don't care about a big wedding - " she pauses to consider that - "well, okay, yes, I do kind of - " which she neatly recovers from - "but I care more about starting my life with you."
"Do you think we can do this on our own?" I ask, sitting up slightly, pulling the coat closer around us and flailing blindly for my pants, not taking my eyes off the girl in there with me.
"No. Rustle up the gang. But it needs to be tonight, don't you think? Under this moon?"
She's right. Under this moon, these stars. Everything's gone right, no reason to think it would stop now. "Yeah. You're right," I whisper, pressing my lips to hers again. "I love you."
"And I love you," she returns this time, and my heart suddenly feels so full. I've just made the decision to live with this woman for the rest of my life, starting this instant, and I don't want to miss a second of it.
Though it pains me to let go of her, I must, allowing her to get up and start seeking out her clothes while I pull on my trousers. "We're insane," I announce, counting the buttons on my shirt. I was afraid one or two might have been missing, but thankfully they're all present and accounted for.
"And you wouldn't have it any other way," she tells me, scooping up her clothes and kissing me on the cheek. "Now let's go do this."
I'm getting married.
This is unreal.
And as we race back to the car, it's a game. I run after her, hooking an arm around her waist and pecking her on the lips before dancing away from her gamely, teasing her to follow.
This is what love is all about. Romance, beauty. And of course the silliness.
And now I get to enjoy it for the rest of my life.
And there's no-one I'd rather do it with.
(to be continued…)
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coming next - The Tale of Phil and Kimi
