In all the years of knowing Franky – three to be specific – Bea had seen all shades of her, from happy to sad, angry to flirty, down to the most reoccurring one - outrageously annoying.
However, what most people didn't know about her best friend was just how fiercely loyal and determined she could be, above everything else, when she set that freakishly brilliant mind of hers to it – once Doyle set her eyes on the prize, whatever that prize was, no one could steer her off her path. Sure, you could try, but you'd either fail or get your ass handed to you on a silver platter, completed by some innuendo about the aforementioned ass (courtesy of that same brilliant and equally dirty mind).
Her determination and loyalty proved to be impressive in so many contexts in the past – from charming Bridget into, most recently, marriage to climbing the corporate ladder and owning her own restaurant, ending with the most important accomplishment of all – using that unyielding loyalty to protect her best friend and her daughter by making sure Harry would rot in prison for the rest of his life.
Bea had to admit Franky was one of the most decisive, even unrelenting people she knew. And she appreciated that character trait a lot. However, there were many instances when Franky walked a very line between fierce determination and downright craziness.
Such as now.
At the moment, the dejected brunette had what even she would call an impossible task to achieve in mind. One she suspected no one could perform on such short notice. Bea, on the other hand, had all the faith in the world in a specific someone to be the right woman for the job. Not that she'd ever say it out loud – especially not using those words.
As maid of honor, she was the first person to hear of this marvelous plan, as she and Franky found themselves going over wedding details (she lost track of how many times at this point) at a café just across the street from Allie's shop. The fact that her proposition also involved the proud (and stunning) owner of that shop was just…the icing on the cake.
"Oiii, Red, are you even listening to me?"
For a particular someone who had anything on her mind right now but gentle blonde locks and seahorses and warm, inviting sky blue eyes and red roses and…light.
"What the fuck, Franky?"
Turns out that blinding light was just her best friend's keychain flashlight shining in her eyes. Bea grumbled under her breath, then squinted in annoyance, before closing her eyes altogether, ignoring the interruption. She went back to resting her head on her palm, counting sheep all over again to avoid thinking of any name that rhymed with Sally.
Idiot just made her lose count. The nerve.
"I take it that's a yes on second photographer would capture the essence of our love the best. Thanks, useless."
There was only one week to the blessed event and Franky's new, entirely crazy (but very romantic idea) that popped into her head was about to make a certain florist chew her ear out. But…it might also give Bea an excuse to see her again. That was all she got from it, her only silver lining.
She didn't know whether to feel guilty for the misery Imagine Me&You on steroids over here would surely put the blonde through or grateful.
Not that she missed her. Not that she replayed every detail of their previous encounter in mind until it drove her crazy. Not that she only heard what Franky was saying to her when Allie's name (or whatever nickname of the day her best friend went for) passed her lips.
Not that it was the only thing that sparked her interest among the endless wedding talk, from invoices to photography to table arrangements to…what was she even on about again?
"Yo, Red…" – Franky took another generous gulp from her coffee, before bumping Bea's shoulder roughly, only partially jolting her awake from her daydream. Her words reached a deaf destination once more but Franky was too busy yawning to rip the redhead a new one.
Not a second later, the brunette's hazel eyes dropped even more and not with lust (for once), just pure exhaustion. She looked like a zombie. A real-life zombie with only a tenth of the energy her usual, frenetic hamster-on-a-wheel self carried and rained down on the innocent.
"Where'd ya go just now? For fuck's sake, Red, I need you. Listen, does blondie strike you as the I-can-perform-a-miracle-type?"
"What?" – Bea's ears perked up in curiosity, instantly.
She jumped out of her seat (maybe skin, too) straight into the ceiling, fully crashing back to Earth from La-La-Land like Allie's name was both a ringtone and a wake-up call designed specifically for her.
Franky's all-knowing smirk returned like a second, less pleasant wake-up call she was dead-set on ignoring.
"Allow me to rehash, dreamy, more like nightmare-y from where I'm standin'."
Bea shot daggers from her eyes but Franky breezed past it, unfazed. She was too worn-out to give a shit or strike back. This second, at least.
"I want to do somethin' special for Gidge…and it just hit me last night, right... we were dancin' to this really sappy song she loves so much and uh.." – Franky's voice faltered, her hazel orbs turning softer at the drop of a hat.
It never ceased to amaze Bea how her best friend's entire idiot face down to the last idiot line changed when she talked about Bridget. It was almost…endearing?
Nah…this was still Doyle she was talking about. Scratch that.
"I thought about it and I want the band to do like..a moment for us on the beach, before following us inside where we'll set up the stage. It's where we first met, y'know. It's also where I first realized I didn't want to just get in her pants, but her heart, too."
"Oh, wow, Nicholas Sparks—"
"Shut your mouth, Red, we are never bringin' this up after today. Anyway, the ceremony will still be inside, obviously, but I wanted to give her one last reminder of who we were…before we move on to who we're gonna be.. make sense to ya?"
"Really, Doyle, romantic advice from me?" – Bea raised a sarcastic eyebrow, earning a very tired, but still pointed glare in return.
"You really are useless, Red."
"So uh…where does…" – Bea cleared her throat, then fixed her hair…casually. "Where does Allie fit into all this, again?" – she added, completely neutrally, not-at-all-curiously, without a single hint of stifled excitement.
"Oh, so now I got your attention." – Franky groaned with an abrupt, almost spooky surge of energy, by mere force of contrast, if nothing else.
Bea was the splitting image of a deer caught in the headlights. The opportunity for a dirty joke was so close but the boastful brunette had to pass. She'd make up for that indiscretion tenfold later, when she wasn't focused on the task at hand.
"Well if you must know, Cruella, I want my beautiful fiancée to have it all. And no cliché lesbian moment on the beach is complete without flowers. So this is where I need blondie to work her magic, if you know what I mean—"
Or maybe now.
"Point, Franky, point. Get to it."
"I was thinkin' this flower arch, right, that we can walk through, maybe flowers on the sand too, like paving the way or some shit. I know it sounds stupid but I think flower girl's gonna get it. I also want like maybe…two of the band members to start off this moment outside and then follow us inside, play something super cheesy while all this happens. Maybe the song from last night-"
"Jesus Christ, now I'm getting a toothache to go with this headache." – Bea rolled her eyes, pointing to her throbbing head, aiming for disgusted but still allowing a small hint of appreciation to pass, unconsciously.
It had to be nice. Having someone go through all of this trouble for you, having someone cherish you enough to even try.
"You think goldilocks call pull that off on such short notice?" – Franky asked, doom and gloom and uncertainty clouding her eyes. "It's full wedding season and she's done so much for us already but-"
And judgment too, if you'd ask Bea. No one was about to show Allie that level of distrust and doubt. Not on her watch.
"Course she can." – she cut in straightaway, with a fire like no other, a stark contrast to the fragrant disinterest and absence shown for the better half of this conversation. She spoke like it was her life's mission to defend Allie's honor…and abilities…and well, everything about her.
"I mean…that's her job, right?" – she added, too late in masking her fire, one that was gradually scaling down from Empire-State-Building-On-Flames level to a small, flickering candle light.
Franky's face nearly split wide open from the shit-eating grin that just took over it.
"So you do think she's a miracle worker, huh?" – the shameless brunette ran her tongue over her teeth. "Wonder what made you think that, Red."
"Oh for fuck's sake—"
"But maybe you're right, oh-so-faithful one. There's only one way to find out, right?" – the tattooed woman jumped from her seat in a flash with a newfound spark, like she just stole some of Bea's previous fire for her own selfish gains. "Let's go see her."
"Alright." – the redhead voiced her agreement immediately, neutrally to anyone else on the entire planet but Franky. Because she knew Red had exactly two vocal inflections – disinterested and very disinterested. And this was neither. This was "my voice is doing this but my face tells a very different story."
"Really, Red? No complainin'?" – she pressed on, audaciously, but apparently Bea came prepared – she stood tall, like a brick wall. "So what, you suddenly like maid-of-honor-ing?"
"Just want you off my back, Doyle." – Bea shrugged, lifting both hands in the air dismissively, then drank the last drops of her coffee, before setting her paper cup down louder than she meant.
"Please, you love me there." – Franky teased one more time before dusting her pants, snaking an arm around her friend's shoulder and dragging her out into the street.
As they made their way to Allie's shop, Franky's alarmingly accurate lesbian guru senses started tingling and setting off rainbow fireworks everywhere. She was picking up a new, charged vibe in the air and, for once, it had nothing to do with her fabulous self. No, it had everything to do with this…this changing aura engulfing her best friend, seemingly out of nowhere. She was pretty sure she saw Red fixing her hair and collar three times already, saw her entire trademark, unimpressed face change into a soft, stupid, dopey look. Even her normal, not-so-gracious movements were more calculated now, smooth even.
The brunette was determined to use all of this to her advantage - she would rattle Bea until she surrendered, just because she could. That, and she also believed embarrassing your best friend in front of their crush was a constitutional right.
"After you, Red. You look like you know your way around here, if you catch my drift—"
Before Franky could as much as take another breath, Bea was already grabbing her by the collar, menacingly. Her glare was enough to promptly shut her up which was suspicious in and of itself. The brunette never let it go without a fight but, for once, Bea was too preoccupied to care.
She did, however, comply. It wasn't like she wanted to see Allie first or anything. She also didn't feel her hand tremble on that door handle, at all. It was just cold (in late spring) and that was a normal shiver (in 22 degree weather).
Before she could entertain another thought or take a single step forward, Allie's moving frame was already gracing her view, like those first rays of sunlight at the dawn of morning, exposing a whole new world of possibilities, nothing the dead of night from before could even dream of witnessing. Until now.
She was even more alluring, breathtaking and beautiful than last time. Maybe that was just her…natural state.
"Hey there."
Bea froze on the spot, every beat of her heart suddenly in perfect synch with the blonde's approaching footsteps. Her eyes followed suit like a magnet.
The flower girl was carrying a photo album…and the entire weight of the world on her shoulders, judging by her even more exhausted exterior, slightly slumped shoulders and lethargic, yet still effortlessly graceful movements.
"Oh, wow…way to brighten a girl's day."
Maybe not anymore.
"Hey…"
If only she knew it was, in fact, her who shone brighter than any sun.
"Why thanks, blondie, finally feelin' the love. I always knew you secretly wanted a piece of the Doyle."
As Bea's skewed luck would have it, her best friend was determined to be that single cloud ruining this impromptu sun-moon reunion. Raining on people's parade is what she specialized in, after all – she should put that on her résumé.
Bea and Allie's previously spellbound, almost hypnotized looks morphed into twin eye-rolls – they couldn't have been more synchronized even if they practiced.
"And a wild Ms. Doyle appears. What can I say, you caught me." – Allie smiled sheepishly in lieu of greeting, her voice coming out with a subtle sarcastic edge.
"I know all your secrets, blondie."
Bea was so focused on everything Allie she couldn't have missed the slightest shudder that took over the normally composed blonde. She could have also sworn she turned one or two shades paler than usual but maybe it was all in her head.
Because, not a moment later, the florist shook her head slightly, blinking once or twice then switching to her usual, well-mannered and professional self. Her shoulders straightened and a seemingly polite, business-like smile graced her features, one that was obviously directed at Franky.
"How may I assist you today, ladies?" – she moved on to ask, courteously, with perfect posture and composure now, lowering her gaze. Her eyes, however, were telling a completely different story.
"Better yet…please follow me, let's not discuss here, this reception still has scarring memories from this morning all over it—"
"Lead the way, hot stuff." – Franky interrupted, biting her lip and winking suggestively and Bea was instantly hit with a stroke of genius.
So that's what "honor" attached to her new title stood for. Yes, it would, in fact, be an honor to murder the future bride right now.
As they made their way upstairs to the blonde's office once again, Bea couldn't shake the memory of every moment she spent here last time. She briefly caught the moving contours of employee frames scurrying about down the hall but she couldn't make up a single detail about them.
She had other, vastly different details playing on her mind obsessively, taunting her like she was just here yesterday. Least she was breathing normally this time around, but only because she deliberately avoided direct eye contact with a certain someone.
"So, what's with you and seahorses, golden arches? Trippy art nouveau you got downstairs—" - Franky remarked, shrugging just a little, before making herself overly comfortable in the shop owner's personal workspace.
"I'd tell you, Amy Winehouse, but then I'd have to kill you." – Allie answered with a straight, unimpressed face.
Only Bea noticed that sneaky, playful spark in the blonde's eye, lingering just below the surface that came along with it. The sight made her unable to pull away and, before she could stop herself, she was looking even more intently, studying every flicker of light on that endless blue sky before her.
"So you really are a serial killer…"
It felt like staring directly into the sun. Oddly enough, it didn't blind her.
"Guilty as charged, Bea. You should see what's in my backyard." – Allie shot her a light-hearted nod, before rubbing the back of her neck nervously.
"Flowers?"
"And bodies, duh. Gotta make 'em look pretty, y'know how it is." – she waved her arm around then winked in a dazed redhead's direction, whose heart was starting to do…
"I really don't."
The thing again. With how often that happened lately, maybe she should see that cardiologist after all.
"So uh…what can I bring you, ladies?" – Allie asked, cordially, still the ever-so-considerate host.
"Nah, you stand there, goldilocks, I gotcha. Let me serve you…"
Right, Franky was here..too.
And Bea was rapidly catching on double meanings. Normally, she was used to her best friend's sky-high level of disgusting, she didn't even mind or register her obnoxious flirting with anything that as much as breathed within ten inches of her. She didn't know why it was bothering her so much right now.
"How considerate, Ms. Doyle. Any particular reason for this random act of kindness?"
"Do I need a reason to serve a pretty girl?"
She wanted to punch the living daylights out of her best friend for daring to turn the Doyle charm on an unsuspecting, undeserving Allie. She didn't even stop to process that unconscious glare that instantly set on her face or her hand balling into a fist by her side. She just wanted to shield Allie from the torture of Lesbian Cassanova.
Because she was a good person and she cared.
About Allie?
She shook her head before allowing whatever thought she had entertained for 0.02 seconds to materialize into an even bigger tornado of thoughts that she's been trying to silence, maybe even erase altogether since walking in here.
"Caffeine for you, tea for Red, calms her down…" – Franky explained, dutifully, making a deliberate pop sound with her lips whilst staring all-knowingly at her very scary-looking redheaded pal, before passing her one of the paper cups with extreme caution.
Why would Franky even assume she needs to calm down? She was totally composed, not at all angry or nervous, weirdly enough at the same time. Luckily for these two bickering fools, if Allie noticed anything about their little stare-down, she didn't make a single acknowledging sign.
"I'd say vodka for me but you still don't have any. Really, you never feel the need to spike your drink doing what you do, flowery?—"
"You do know I have an actual name too, right? Rhymes with Cali?" – Allie grumbled, fully facing the excessively friendly brunette just to stop her gaze from going…anywhere else. "And no day drinking on the job, sorry."
"Ugh…boring. But I'd so take you to Cali if I wasn't getting hitched—"
"Tone it down, Franky."
As fate would have it, that anywhere else just entered her peripheral vision and the blonde's eyes and frame followed like clockwork.
Allie gulped a little, still rubbing her neck (an anxious tick she acquired as a child), then smiled at the proud owner of the voice behind the interruption, a lot more fondly than she realized. Of course even angry looked good on her. Why wouldn't it? Apparently "torture Allie Novak" was on the universe's to-do-list today – in every sense of the word.
"Someone's jealous." – Franky quipped and Bea turned ghostly white on sight. Needless to clarify, it was still a very beautiful sight from where the blonde was standing.
"No worries, Red, still your number one fan—"
Bea didn't know whether she wanted to kill her obnoxious best friend or hug her, then kill her. Because she just dangled her over the edge of a cliff to throw her a saving rope a second after.
Jealous?
No chance in hell. She was not jealous. What would she even be jealous of? She didn't even know that emotion because she never got jealous. Maybe overly protective..sure. But that was a side of her that only manifested around her daughter and the rude asshole in front of her, too, on the odd occasions she didn't feel like crushing her like a bug under her boot.
"Don't make me throw up, I'm begging you."
Like now.
Bea's disgruntled gaze followed Franky who was now biting her lip to stop another smartass comment from coming out, before re-assessing her priorities. In a flash, the hotheaded, incredibly disrespectful brunette was crashing on Allie's couch, putting her sneakers up like she owned the place, with no touch of grace whatsoever.
"Fuck, I'm so tired…"
Bea's harsh, steely glare could cut through glass, concrete and titanium combined at this point.
"'Kay, let's get down to business." – Franky jumped from her seat like an arrow, almost like she never even sat down in the first place. She closed her eyes for exactly 3 seconds but it wasn't like she needed sleep. Devils never do.
The redhead's glance barely had time to keep up with the brunette's moving frame before she was already plopped down on the chair facing an even more elegant and glamorous Allie than last time. Not that Bea was noticing every detail about this new, striking outfit she wore and how it fit her every curve. Not that the contrast was so blinding that Bea she had to take a physical – and mental - step back just to wonder…
How did the universe allow these two in the same space without messing up the entire equilibrium of the world?
"Get ready to be woo'ed by my creative genius, blondie."
The fact that this incredibly classy, drop-dead gorgeous woman was also listening carefully to Franky's every word as she rehashed her new plan was even more impressive. She managed to follow her until the end with only one eye-roll along the way.
Allie really was an angel.
Wait, what?
"I would have appreciated you asking for all of this sooner..." – the still focused younger woman declared, politely as always, pondering and biting her bottom lip in deep thought.
And Bea saw that in real-time (more like slow-motion) because, coincidentally, her eyes darted in that particular direction while Allie was speaking, no ulterior motive. She was just listening closely, watching the exchange like an unbiased third party. Who also happened to observe that there was not a single hint of protest or masked complaint in Allie's mannerisms, voice or even gaze.
If Bea was impressed before, she could build a shrine for her now.
She was too busy looking at the unbelievably patient blonde to even notice the brief flash of resignation and maybe even sadness taking over Franky's (still) droopy hazel eyes.
"But it's feasible, don't worry. "
This time, Bea did hear the faintest echo of her best friend's relieved sigh in her ear, before her eyes re-focused on Allie once again. On closer inspection, it became painfully transparent just how exhausted the flower girl really was – the dark circles from last time were even more pronounced now, despite that thin make-up coating on top. This new request had to put an enormous stretch on her schedule. And it didn't take a genius to put two and two together.
Guilt and worry instantly hit Bea like a sucker punch to the gut. She was pondering upon maybe talking Franky out of this crazy idea. She was just worried about Allie's health. Because she cared. About people's health. In general. We all should, right? Run, eat your vegetables…sleep?
Maybe those were just her "mom instincts" coming out to play. Yeah, that seemed more like it.
"Don't bullshit me, flower power, I know I'm asking for a lot." – the tattooed woman intervened, brashly, as expected, and Bea has never been more grateful for one of those rare moments of awareness and empathy from her. "So kick me out of your office anytime—"
"No. No way." – Allie cut in with a sudden rush of determination, shocking both of her current visitors, who shared the same stunned look and probably the same set of questions. "Not for this, at least. Just to clarify, still not a hippie." – she added, her lips curving upwards into a small, teasing smile meant just for Franky.
The blonde then lifted her gaze from the papers on her desk that she was studying just a second ago to face Franky again, blissfully unaware of her entire mannerisms and energy...changing.
"What you…what you want do for Bridget…It's uh.."
That…that soft, serene look. Needless to say, déjà-vu struck Bea like a lightning to the heart, rendering her speechless. She couldn't do anything to shake a very similar image playing in her mind, like a movie stuck on replay. By now, Allie wasn't looking anywhere in particular, maybe slightly far ahead, like she was in a trance or something.
She wanted that look on her, instead. Like last time.
The "why" was somewhere in a dark, remote corner of her mind. It petrified her, almost made her run for the door right there but it still wasn't nearly frightening enough to pull her away from everything Allie right now. She wanted to. She tried. No muscle reacted.
"It's more than most people would do." – Allie finished with a practiced smile, civil and casual to anyone else but Bea. "You're lucky to have each other."
Because she just saw that same hint of stifled hurt in her eyes that may or may not have haunted her for minutes, hours, maybe even days. Second time around, it destroyed her even more.
"….with or without the flowers. But luckily for you, I got you on that."
Now she had to look away. Because she couldn't help but wonder if anyone ever bothered to do even a tenth of this for Allie.
When she obviously did it for everyone else.
"So consider me your right-hand woman for anything you want, okay?"
She suspected the answer was no. A resounding, deafening, tormenting no. She couldn't think of anything more unfair than that. Then again, life did have a way of being unfair in general - least to her. But that was different. Allie didn't deserve this. Someone like her had to be the last person in the world to deserve it.
"We're going to make your fiancée very happy."
And the fact that she was back to wedding planning-mode and her chirpy self in a matter of seconds wasn't lost on Bea. It only added to the crushing weight currently pushing on her chest. She suspected that was her mask. She wore it well, like everything else. But she saw, maybe because she knew what masks looked like better than anyone else.
She didn't wear them half as gracefully as her.
"Damn, Novak, you really are a fairy, aren't ya?" – Franky praised in her characteristic, way too loud manner. It was the first time since walking in here when Bea and her shared approximately the same look. "You know, if I wasn't getting hitched and this one over here wouldn't crack my skull, ribs and every other bone in my body, I could totally kiss you right now—"
Surely enough, Bea could have killed her on the spot...if her hands weren't frozen by her sides, along with her entire brain. That and she was too busy reaching new dimensions of scarlett. Because she was getting angry again. Of course.
"I'd prefer you didn't." – Allie replied, visibly amused yet flattered at the same time.
Bea couldn't have masked that audible, even loud exhale betraying utter relief even if she practiced a million times in the mirror. Because that particular mental image was on her top 5 list of most life scarring things she ever pictured.
"Before I leave ya to it, goldilocks.…" – Franky began, her business mode making a triumphant, but limited return. She had one final point on her to-do-list she needed to cross off, stat. "Table arrangements are done, you'll be hanging out with soon-to-be wifey and me, Maxie, Boomer, your plus-one and stick-in-the-mud-over here. Just need you to give me his…" – she trailed off, only to allow a very provocative smirk to take over her entire smartass face. "Or her name."
By this fine moment, Bea's entire mental search history spelled "murder ideas that inflict the most amount of pain."
"I still don't have one, Franky, I'm sorry…" – Allie apologized, sincerely, shifting her weight from one leg to another, imitating the pose of a scolded child. She was also unconsciously fixing her hair all shyly and...
Adorably?
That thought was enough to anchor Bea, if only for a moment. She mentally crossed off "guillotine."
"And are you sure? I mean, you guys are family, I wouldn't wanna intrude, I've only known you and Bridget for like a few weeks—"
Of course Allie would be considerate of this too. Of course. Bea was pretty sure Allie didn't have a single unkind or disrespectful bone in her entire flawless body.
Her what now?
"Nonsense, firecracker, anyone who goes to these lengths for my wedding deserves a place at the blessed table. "
Bea gulped nervously, staring at her best friend, silently pleading with her despite not having said a single word in ages. Because she was starting to realize what that would entail.
Seeing Allie all night. Being around her every second.
Seeing Allie with her plus-one. Being around them every second.
Because she'd find someone, eventually. How could she not?
She downed that still hot, previously forgotten tea in her hand so fast it managed to burn everything in its path, from her lips down to her throat – and not even that sensation managed to distract her or calm her down.
Her heart felt like it just got stomped. Violently. And she couldn't mask it now, not even to herself. Maybe there was something wrong with it, after all. Because this was a throbbing ache she's never felt before and she got up close and personal with every type of physical pain ever invented. She would have taken a cracked rib over this any day.
"And what do you mean you still don't have one, do you wanna get murdered right now? I need the final table arrangements ready today or I will lose my shit. Do you have any idea how many things I still have to get done—"
Franky's ear-piercing whining (more like crying) brought Bea out of her own head, causing it to buzz even more. But not even that could erase the mental images still daring to torture her, all involving Allie dancing, laughing, being happy with…someone.
Someone else.
Someone who was everything she wasn't.
"I'm sorry, honestly, I swear I was gonna get to that but between all of these bridezillas and sleeping like two hours a night—"
This time around, her voice was enough to draw the crazy nonsense out. Bea was too busy staring at an apologetic-looking Allie like she put up every star in the sky to entertain anything else. Weirdly enough, it seemed like Franky was caving too - not even hurricane Doyle could resist the blonde's guilty puppy face.
"Fine, you're forgiven, blondie, but only cuz you look even worse than me. I get it. But can't you find someone like…today? You're a hot piece, just go outside for fuck's sake. "
Or maybe not. Bloody idiot just couldn't let it go, could she?
Bea could have flung her into space with her own two hands. She even pictured it – movie effects and soundtrack included. The fragile hold she still had on her Franky rage was wearing dangerously thin. She loved her best friend. But she never wanted her to flee a room more than now. Maybe go down to the drugstore, pop a Xanax or something.
"As much as I appreciate the compliment—"
Poor Allie tried, hoping flattery would let her off the hook but Bea knew better. There was no stopping Doyle in wedding planning mode and this innocent, unsuspecting, pure soul was just about to see it.
"I can find you 10 fellas or 10 ladies right now, just give me 5 sec. If this one did and she's a stubborn asshole, finding you one will be a walk in the park."
Bea was turning so ghostly pale by the second that she challenged the whole definition, even meaning of the phrase. She was reaching unimaginable shades of white.
"Come on, Red, chop chop, need me a new set of eyes. Butch or lipstick, goldie—"
For reference purposes, if you placed her alongside a piece of chalk, you wouldn't be able to find a single difference. Maybe one – the chalk would pale in comparison.
"Oh, how could I forget. Sorry….femme? More your speed? Flowery enough for ya? Just say the word-"
Because the idea of her best friend setting the blonde up with anyone and dragging her along for the ride to stand by and enjoy the horrifying show caused her entire chest to bubble with…rage? And sadness? She was too busy nearly fainting right there to notice a similar flash of hurt making a visible dent in the blonde's professional façade.
She then realized…Franky still thought she had someone. Because she lied to her to get her off her back. Because she was a terrible best friend.
"Aren't you presumptuous, Ms. Doyle." – Allie chuckled uncomfortably at Franky's obvious implying (and flawless guessing) of her sexuality. It wasn't even a shadow of her real laugh. That delayed, strained reaction wasn't fooling anyone, either.
Bea hated how fast she caught up on all of that. It was almost like she was in tune with Allie's every emotion. And right now, they were both miserable. If only they knew it was for the exact same reason.
"I'm never wrong about these things. And I already go by Mrs. Doyle now, better ring to it."
Unbeknownst to both Bea and Allie, their hurt expressions at the prospect of the other being set up with anyone else mirrored each other like their self-inflicted torture was cut from the same cloth. Unsurprisingly, the only person in the room who noticed was the queen of all matchmakers herself who just received her cue to deliver the final blow.
"So, a lady. You heard the lady, let's go, Red." – Franky added with a devilish smirk plastered on her face, already grabbing a certain stunned redhead by the collar who seemed too distracted and sullen to even oppose her. "Give us 5 seconds—"
"Franky, wait, I have to tell you something—"
Or not.
The all-knowing brunette let go of her best friend's frame with a practiced, eerily suspicious calm. She took a deep breath, shot a glimpse down to the floor, then stared back up purposely slow, before a massive grin set on her face. Somehow, she looked even more threatening (and terrifying) that way. In a flash, she lifted her hands up in the air, her hair flying in thunderous rage in all directions.
"I was wonderin' when you'd come around." - she spat, incredulously, taking her usual snark to never-before-seen levels. Her even more pronounced, comedic hand movements would have been hilarious to Bea in any other context – if she wasn't busy being 80% scared for her life right now.
"Lyin'… liar…. who…lies." – the brunette towered over her, emphasizing her every word by tapping Bea's chest with her pointer finger rhythmically. "I know you've been bullshitting me for weeks, dimwit, you have a tell. No wonder your initials are BS, Red."
Make that 99%.
Bea took a few shaky steps back, not even trying to mask her guilty-as-charged expression, as an amused (and incredibly relieved) Allie watched on.
"Sorry, Franky, I know, I suck—"
The blonde was also secretly finding everything about Bea's current reaction just..soul-meltingly adorable.
"Ya both wanna bury me right now, is that it?" – the frantic soon-to-be bride fired more venom in an even thicker accent than usual. "Ya want my wedding to be in the afterlife? Huh? After-party on Franky's tombstone?" – she stared at the ceiling, like she was begging to be saved by the good Lord above.
Right now or so help her, she'd take these two clueless idiots, handcuff them together, sit their asses down at the guest table and smash their idiot lips together herself.
Two guilty gazes belonging to the aforementioned idiots briefly settled on each other, before cautiously facing the livid brunette once again.
"Have you two planned this or something?" – Franky calmed down just enough to twist the metaphoric knife even more, staring at her current companions accusingly and shamelessly. Because the only planner in this room was her.
Allie and Bea were starting to look like two children scolded by their mom for leaving dirty dishes in the sink when…
"That's it, you're going together."
The other shoe dropped.