Reflections of a Best Man
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Summary: It's the eve of Michael and Gina's wedding day, and someone is Not Happy. Mild femmeslash warning.
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Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, they're probably looking at me funny for this one.
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So, my dad's getting married tomorrow.
It's going to be an afternoon wedding, and...well, that's all I know.
I'm pretty sure that as the best man, I should have more of the details stored away in the ol' steel trap; I think Liz thought so, from the stunned, uncomprehending look she gave me when she asked what the bride's colours were, and what the flowers were like, and I scratched my head and wrinkled my brow like I'd never heard of a flower before.
But what can I say? I have other things on my mind. Like making sure the pyrotechnic displays Louis and I are sending up – it'll be great, like a fairyland shower of pink and blue and purple light during the first dance, very Cinderella – don't light anyone's hair on fire and kill the mood.
And making sure Dad and the wife's wedding present is finished. No stepmom of mine is going to waste time salting her potatoes by hand. And no Dad of mine is going on his honeymoon with flannel nightshirts. Hence the silk pyjamas that Louis is going to tease me about until one of us is dead.
Yup; in approximately seventeen hours, eight minutes, and forty-two seconds, my dad's going to be a married man again. And how does he spend his last night of freedom before he's back under two women's thumbs again instead of just mine?
Playing chess.
With the bride-to-be.
They offered to switch to Monopoly when Louis and I got back from the caves, make it a family night, but I have some last minute touches, and Louis likes watching chess.
At least she's a nice girl.
Not Louis; Dad's fiancee.
She's my best friend, actually. Not in the I'm not just marrying your dad, I'm marrying into your family and I want us to be bestest friends from now on kind of way; we've been best friends since she moved here.
I love Ellen, and Nina, and Maria, but Gina's the first girl I ever really-really clicked with
And now I can call her Mom if I want.
I probably won't. I have a Mom. Even if she's not here anymore because those damn doctors didn't find a cure for cancer fast enough, she's still my Mom.
And anyway, Gina's a season younger than me.
Tht probably implies a whole lot of things about Dad, but none of them would be true, and also, shut up, that's my Daddy you're talking about.
Point is, the only time I'd ever call her Mom is when I'm teasing her for worrying and fretting alongside Dad that I'm going to lose an eye one of these days.
Come to think of it, there was something creepily prophetic about that. From the first time she came over to help with the Project o' the Day, it was Dad and Gina, side by side, trying to take care of me.
Not that anything came of it right away; first, she had to get that doctor out of her system.
For the life of me, I can't see the attraction. Maybe it's because I've never liked doctors, but I just don't get what it was about him that made her blush and smile and hum love songs and wear make-up for the first time in...well, ever.
We were already good buddies by the first time he asked her to stay for dinner after her shift, just the two of them, so Dad and I got to hear every detail, every step of the way.
That first date, their first real date, the first kiss, the first sneaking worry that maybe Alex wasn't quite as madly in love as she was, their first argument, their first reconcilliation, the first time she ever really wanted to stop living because she came in after her lunch break to find her sweetie and his patient tumbling together on the couch in the waiting room...
Have I mentioned that I've never liked doctors?
Well, I guess some guys just aren't content, being treated like gods by sweet, loyal girls with gorgeous hair and cute glasses – they need to move on to angry, demanding sick girls who feel entitled to make everyone around them miserable because they don't like to suffer alone.
After she lost Alex and Dia – they were too busily angrily defending their actions to her to notice that she never asked them to – I made sure to remind her all the time that a cute girl like her would find someone new to love in no time, and anyway, she still had me.
(See how sly I was there, not specifying another man, and sneaking myself in there?)
Anyway, Alex and Dia lasted about a month, coincidentally about as long as it took her to stop being mad at Kurt for suggesting that going outside once in a while instead of sutting herself inside all day might help her health some. And who should decide that he never really stopped loving Gina, and the whole thing was a silly, childish mistake? Apparently, it wasn't really love, or attraction, or whatever, that made him stick his tongue down another girl's throat; it was because he felt sorry for the poor, frail, sickly little thing.
Yeah, right; I guess it's the fact that he's such a great humanitarian that made him think it was a-okay to make out with his girlfriend's best friend (aside from me, blech). I think sickly girls just make him hot because they need him more than our infinitely capable Gina. Then he stops being hot for them when he remembers that they take a lot more maintenance.
Because score one for me, I was right, and she had already found someone else! She told him thank-you for the offer (which made me shoot tea out my nose because she'd just finished saying the same thing in the same voice to a telemarketer five minutes ago), but she was in another relationship now - with this real nice guy that I just happen to call Dad!
There's a lot of gossip in town right now about how furious I am with Dad for marrying a girl my age. Incidentally, there are also a lot of people in town who should probably do their jobs instead of making up stories about their neighbours.
I couldn't care less if the lucky girl to catch Dad's eye is just on the right side of legal. He's had a heck of a time raising me, and I think he's earned the right to enjoy the rest of his life with a hot young babe who'll look good in a bathing suit twenty years longer than him. Heck, I'd encourage it if Dad wanted to go after Eve, or Nina, or Ellen (even though I'd be a little afraid for his life once it got back to Bob). I just wish it had been any other borderline-underage cutie.
But I guess Gina's the only borderline-underage cutie around here who's sweet and nurturing and quiet and smart enough for my dad.
I guess these things really do run in the family.
And I guess I brought it on myself, always throwing hissy-fits and insisting there was nothing to tell when he asked me about my love life.
I bet he'd have looked somewhere else if he'd known he was checking out his daughter's crush.
You know, it's all kind of funny, in a really weird, Oedipal sort of way. Except without the killing.
Unless something goes really wrong with the fireworks.
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End Notes: Hee! I really like MM Ann. And, of course, I love Michael and his long-suffering friendliness. I don't know what it is about Michael x Gina that makes me adore it so, but adore it I do. It's just so...oddball-cute!
And please, do take Ann's thoughts on Alex with a grain of salt - recall that he was the previous romantic rival, and she could safely hate him without garnering suspicion of lingering patricidal urges.