Trigger Warning: for Alcohol use, drug use, and non-consensual drug use (implied)
See end notes.
…
"Hurry," Carol giggled as she pulled the dress up over her body, flinging her bra in the bag with the rest of her clothes.
"I'm hurrying. Hey. What size shoe are you?" Daryl asked her from outside of the dressing room where she was changing.
"I'm a seven and a half, why?"
"Just humor me, I'll be right back."
Daryl took off to find the elderly gentlemen who had helped him find a fitting suit and the dress Carol was putting on. Damn! She was hot! Like, "on fire" hot. And he would know. The guys back at the station would give him such a hard way to go about this, but he had the money, so why not?
"Dale, you see those heels over there?"
"Yessir," Dale replied.
"I need a pair of those in a seven and a half."
"Certainly, sir, I will see what we have available. I feel I should let you know those shoes are $3,945.00."
"I don't care, bring me what ya got."
Daryl waited, bouncing his on the balls of feet, a light feeling inside his chest. He felt happy, hopeful. This weird electric feeling like nothing could bring him down. He was flying.
Dale returned with the heels and they made their way to Carol to try them on.
"Daryl! I can't take these! They're Louboutins! Do you know how much they cost?"
"Don't worry 'bout it. I got the cash. I want you to have them," he leaned closer, whispering where only she could hear him. "They look like they're on fire, only thing hotter is you wearing 'em."
She blushed and nodded, slipping the heels on and noting the perfect fit.
"They're beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as you," Daryl tipped her chin and kissed her lightly on the lips.
"Dale, if you'd kindly help us get everything together, we're in a bit of a hurry. Got a wedding to get to," Daryl squeezed Carol's hand.
"Of course, sir. Are congratulations in order?"
"Not yet, but once we get done at The Little White Wedding Chapel there'll be lots of congratulatin' goin' on."
...
Carol sat quietly in the passenger seat on their way to The Little White Wedding Chapel. Surely they hadn't gotten married! She turned to observe Daryl out of the corner of her eye.
He seemed rough around the edges, but she didn't feel in any danger from him. He was actually pretty easy on the eyes. Clear blue eyes, sandy colored hair, impressively muscular and fit. She felt a fluttery feeling in her chest and gazed back out at the busy city sights.
The morning had been rough and he'd been surly, but really, so had she. Anybody probably would have in that situation. She just couldn't see why she would have married him last night. That didn't seem like something she would do. Then she remembered the class ring on her finger that morning and groaned, tossing her head against the back of the seat.
Daryl cleared his throat.
"I'm sure there's some kind of explanation. Maybe it was a joke or somethin' or a bet, ya know? We probably didn't even get married.
So you don't need to get all worried."
She couldn't help but notice the note of defense and something that sounded a lot like hurt underlining his response.
"Yeah, but remember your ring was on my finger this morning. My ring finger."
"Shit! I forgot about that. But I'm sure they have ways to take care of that. I doubt we're the first people to get drunk and married in Vegas."
She hummed in agreement and her mind worked overtime, trying to regain some memories from the night before.
"Does that seem strange to you though?" Carol asked.
"What?"
"Well, that we don't have any memory of last night. I've been really, really drunk before, but never so drunk that I've forgotten who I am, and lost huge blocks of time from my memory. Not just from drinking." She explained.
"You got a point. I ain't never blacked out so bad from drinking. And I got a pretty high tolerance." Daryl thought back over what they knew so far; it was like trying to put together the puzzle without the the edge pieces or the cover of the box.
"You think maybe we...took something else," Carol questioned him, haltingly. She didn't want to believe she would do that. She hadn't done anything that foolish in over a decade.
"I don't know. That's not my kinda thing, really, but this is Vegas, and marryin' isn't really my thing either, so...," he trailed off as they pulled into the parking lot of the chapel.
They stared up in awe at the expansive white building, their breath muted, nervous energy expanding all around them.
"Let's go see," Daryl climbed somewhat wearily out of the vehicle, before Carol knew what he was doing he had opened her door and was giving her his hand to help her out of the vehicle. At her puzzled look he replied, "I'd be a piss poor husband if I didn't help my wife, now wouldn't I?" He joked with her, trying to break the tension and relax his own damn nerves.
They walked to the front door, entering the gaudy anteroom of the chapel, decorated with plush scarlet furnishings, and trimmed in gold paint. The rush of heavily rose-scented air conditioning from the building breezed over them and cooled the sweat on their heated skin. Goosebumps broke out over Carol's arms and legs and she shivered.
Daryl leaned over and whispered, "Hang on a sec, be right back," and darted out the door.
She huffed at the nerve of the man to just leave her standing there in the middle of the entryway, waiting to speak to the attendee. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to rid herself of the goosebumps, when she heard the door behind her open again and then Daryl was standing next to her.
"Here," he said, and handed her his suit jacket he had left in the back seat of the car when they left the boutique. She stared at the jacket for a few moments before looking back up and meeting his eyes, and she was taken aback at the warmth she saw waiting there. There was more to this man than anyone could see from outward appearances, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't intrigued by him, and the desire to get to know him better.
She shrugged the jacket on over her dress and wrapped it around her, the arms dangling past her wrists and the bottom reaching the hem of her dress. It smelled of him, and she inhaled the fragrance, deep and woodsy with a hint of fire and smoke. It caused a frisson of desire to bolt through her, striking deep in her core, and she gasped at the intensity of her sudden arousal.
They stepped forward to the attendee, their turn to speak to him, but before they could say anything, he greeted them.
"Ahhhh, my sweet lovebirds! Back so soon? Oh, yes, that's right, you needed to pick up your photographs. Hang on, I think we have them back here, somewhere."
The desire that Carol had been feeling turned to a leaden feeling of dread as soon as she heard his words. "Nooo," she whispered. Daryl gave her a look she couldn't decipher, but stepped to the counter.
"Excuse me, uh...," he waited for the man to look up.
"It's Aaron," the man said, looking as if they should already know that. "Oh no. Don't tell me," he sighed, shaking his head. "I really thought you two were the real deal."
"What?" Carol looked at him, confusion written on her face.
"You guys don't remember do you? Damn. You were so adorable, too. Such a shame," he lamented as he plopped an envelope on the counter. "Here's your photographs, marriage license, and wedding certificate. The photos are courtesy of the Lover's Package you purchased. And if you'll wait here, I'll go get the annulment forms. Since it's obvious you don't remember last night, I'm sure it won't be difficult to prove you didn't have the capacity to agree to a marriage." He nodded his head as the two stood dumbstruck by the counter and stared at his retreat to a back office.
Carol moved to the counter first, her fingers delicately playing over the envelope. "I can't believe we really did that." She sounded so out of it.
"Yeah, I guess we did." He place his hand on the counter and watched as she removed the papers and the photos. Glancing at the license, she searched out her name. Carol Peletier.
Daryl was busy staring at the photos, realization flooding his brain, memory after memory assaulting his mind as he looked blankly at the reflection of Carol, himself, and his brother, Merle.
…
"C'mon baby brother, get on over here with ya new wife. That shit can wait 'til later. Don't keep the woman waitin.''"
"Wait, Merle, you have to be in the picture, too! You're Daryl's brother, you have to be in it. It's important." Carol stomped her pretty little high heeled foot and Merle seemed to cower under her intense glare.
Daryl hurried over between the two of them, before anything else was said, and wrapped his arms around Carol.
"It's alright, Aaron said he'd take the picture."
The three of them stood in front of the fountain and just as the picture was snapped Daryl leaned down and planted a kiss on Carol's cheek.
"Time for a toast!" Merle headed for the table where there was a complimentary toast waiting for them. His back to them while he poured their drinks, Daryl and Carol were wrapped up in each other, kissing each other softly in between heated looks of desire and warm glances filled with adoration.
Merle approached with two glasses in one hand and one in the other and handed the two to Carol and Daryl.
"To hittin' the jackpot!" He toasted before adding, "In more ways than one." He winked at Daryl and they each emptied their glass. "Now, let's go for a drive shall we?" Merle slapped Daryl on the back and headed out of the chapel, not waiting to see if the lovebirds followed him.
…
"Merle," Daryl growled, startling Carol.
"Huh, who's Merle?" Carol looked up to see the anger in Daryl's eyes.
"He's my brother, a jackass is what he is," Daryl voice rumbled as he passed the photos to Carol and rubbed his forehead. This was a shit situation, but, at least now he had an idea of what happened to them.
"Oh my God," Carol studied the photos from the wedding and was struck by the looks on her and Daryl's faces. There weren't words to describe the emotion displayed between the two of them. She touched the picture of him kissing her on the cheek and she saw joy and contentment in her eyes. She flipped to the next one in which he was just gazing at her, and there was no mistaking the adoration written on his face or the tender smile gracing his lips. And just like that, the dam burst and she was reliving each beautiful moment of the night before.
…
She had been playing roulette when she caught his eyes across the table, blue, striking, deep, and intense. Concentrating. He was a sight; rugged and handsome, shaggy and feral...all were words that could describe him. All man. All muscle.
She left the table up five grand, and moved on to blackjack, possessing a pretty mean poker face, and upped her winnings by two thousand more. She came across him again when she came to the craps table, and watched as he cleaned the floor. He caught her watching him and motioned her to him. She followed, a magnetic pull between the two of them. He held his hand up, showing the die he held, a question in his eyes. She leaned forward and blew on them, then watched as he cast them on the table.
And he walked away with ten thousand, and her on his arm.
They had drinks at the bar, where they sat and talked for hours. With each drink, scooting their chairs closer together, until she was almost in his lap, and that's when he did it. He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to hers. Just a touch. Gentle as a butterfly's wing kissing the wind. He pulled back, ears and cheeks red, and she looked at him for a second before she followed, kissing him back, heated fervor in every slide of her lips against his.
She doesn't recall whose idea it was. That they marry. But at the time it had seemed like the best idea she had ever heard.
…
Aaron returned to the counter with the paperwork in his hand, drawing both of the newlyweds' attention to him.
"You just need to fill these out. There are plenty of attorneys in the area who can take of the paperwork for you. The cost starts at $499," Aaron handed the papers to Daryl, who shook his hand.
"Listen, uh, we needed to check...we didn't happen to leave behind a wallet or a purse or cell phone or anything, did we?" Daryl asked the gentleman.
"No, I don't believe you did, but let me check," and he moved to the other end of the counter, opening a safe under the counter and flipping through some belongings. He locked the safe back up and returned to them, shaking his head. "Sorry, I didn't see anything."
"That's okay, thank you so much for your help," Carol shook the man's hand, offering a weak smile, and with a sad look on his face saw them to the door. Carol carried the envelope of mementos, and Daryl the annulment papers.
They got into the car, the weight of their actions pressing in all around them, thickening the air with tension.
"While we were in there, I remembered something," Carol turned to Daryl to convey the snippets from the night before. "We met at the casino. We both won a lot of money, and then we went drinking."
"Yeah, I remembered some stuff, too. Like going shopping for the clothes, and being here last night," he pointed to the building. "I know we picked Merle up from a bar to join us for the weddin'."
"That seemed important to you," Carol murmured, thinking about how happy he looked in the pictures, in between her and his brother.
"That was before I knew he was gonna mess with us." Daryl slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel in frustration and anger. He knew Merle had to have done something, played some part in this, he just wasn't sure what.
"What's our next step?" Carol asked him, not quite sure where to go from the chapel.
"It's Merle. We go back to the club we picked him up from last night, see if he remembers anything." Daryl grimaced, starting the car, determined to find out just what Merle had done.
The dark, concrete building was intimidating, rising up before her in its stark and foreboding presence. The air seemed to close in around it, as if the oxygen was sucked from the very atmosphere, and it made her skin crawl.
"Stick close to me," Daryl instructed her as he led her inside, glaring at the doorman as his eyes swept up and down Carol's form.
The inside was not much better, dim and thick with the stench of sweat, beer, and smoke. The brightest source of light was the stage with the blonde woman twirling and grinding up against a pole to a staccato beat from a crackly PA system.
"Yeah, sugartits, lemme see 'em," the gravelly voice echoed from the corner of the stage, and Daryl turned, honing in on the sound.
"Merle!" He yelled at this brother once he reached his side, and slapped him upside the head. "What'd you do, jackass?"
"Whoa now, baby brother, whatchu hollerin' 'bout? Merle flipped a twenty dollar bill at the woman as she left the stage.
"What did you do to us? Where's our stuff? I know you did somethin,' might as well tell me." Daryl's face was red, angry tension holding his body stiff as he glared at his brother.
"Well, now, maybe I know somethin,' maybe I don't. What's it to ya?"
"What did you do, Merle?" Carol spoke softly, but the softness belied the steel in her voice as she leaned in, holding him in her gaze, her eyes penetrating his inebriated haze with her forceful glare.
"C'mon now, I'm just havin' a little fun. Can't blame ol' Merle for wantin' to blow off a little steam. Ain't like ya can't afford it now, y'know?"
Carol and Daryl turned to face each other, gears grinding in their minds as they began to put the puzzle together.
"Did you take our wallets?" Daryl wanted to yell, he really did, but he kept voice at a reasonable decibel level, though his grip on Merle's shoulder intensified.
"Awh, now, didn't mean no harm by it, figured you two wouldn't miss much," Merle slurred the words as he weaved in his chair under the pressure of Daryl's impressive hold.
"I'm gonna ask one more time. What. Did. You. Do. To. Us?" Daryl bit out each word, punctuating each syllable.
"Was just a couple "forget-me pills" in your drink at the chapel. Ain't no biggie. No harm, no foul. Then I had a friend pick me up and bring me here. Just wanted to have a bit of fun, man. Splurge a little, go a lil' crazy. Why you gettin' your panties in a twist for? I left ya the damn keys."
Daryl held back as much as he could, but hearing Merle's blase treatment of the situation had him seeing red. That he could think it was just fine and dandy to do that to him was one thing, but to Carol? He stood up, releasing his grip on Merle's shoulder, pulled back his arm and punched Merle right in the jaw.
Merle's reflexes were too slow and he toppled over the side of the stool, landing with a muffled "Ooomph," on the dirty, sticky floor of the club.
Leaning down, Daryl grabbed another shopping bag from the clothing boutique they had shopped at, and opened it up, looking down into it to see his wallet, cell phone, and a clutch.
Carol was standing there, hands covering her mouth in shock and surprise at the scene that had unfolded before her.
"C'mon," he turned and took her hand in his, almost like a natural thing to do, and she balked at first.
"What about Merle? Are you just going to leave him there?" She questioned, glancing back to see the man lying on the ground, arm thrown over his face, like he was taking a nap, mumbling incoherently.
"Yep. Sure am. Jackass can find his own way home." Daryl said with firm determination, resolved that this was the last straw. He wasn't going to deal with his shit anymore.
They stepped out of the building and the fresh air, though hot and stifling, was heaven compared to the stink of the club.
"So, we finally got all our stuff, know what happened…," Daryl prompted as they approached the car.
"You know, you hear stories about Vegas, but I never actually pictured anything like this happening to me," Carol laughed, glad that she could laugh about it after everything that had transpired.
"I was thinking," Daryl tapped his fingers nervously on his thigh, "would you want to maybe, go out with me tonight? Go someplace nice?" He patted the bag with his wallet on the seat between them, still containing his leftover winnings.
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Carol looked over at him, flustered at the thought and surprised that he still wanted to hang out with her after being with her all day. But there was something about him that made her want to agree. Something in her that longed to be in his presence. It was both calming and peaceful, and yet unnerving because she had never felt like this before.
"If I am?"
"I guess since we are technically married, we might as well," she shrugged, and then grinned at him, her smile lighting up her face, and he was blown away by the beauty of that joyful smile.
"Yep, I don't buy $4,000 shoes for just anyone, you know. Only the best for my wife." He laughed and she joined in, both enjoying the lighthearted moment.
"Although, I don't know how you plan to top last night," she teased as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the main strip.
"Actually," he winked at her, and lowered his voice, "I figured you'd be on top."
Carol's shoes are Christian Louboutin Pigalle Follies Strass 120mm You can find a picture at us . christianlouboutin us _en/ shop /women/ pigalle-follies-strass . html [no spaces]
Most of the research I did for this was gleaned from Google.
If you would like sources, please pm me
"Forget-me-pills" are a street name for Rohypnol, a very serious drug, illegal in the United States.
Disclaimer: Contrary to Merle's opinion, the use of Rohypnol is a very serious matter and the discussion of such can be triggering for some people. His dialogue does not reflect my opinion on the matter or the severity of the issue.
Thanks for reading,
xoxoxo
