"Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut."
Ernest Hemingway
For the second night in a row, they sat at on the patio at the Fontana Bar, enjoying the clear August night. Still dressed from the wedding, they sat comfortably, sipping at their drinks, laughing and talking.
Tonight, however, had a different vibe to it. Sean and Marina were the picture of a newly married couple, clearly in love and completely happy. Hotch was glad to see that his brother was settling down with someone whom he truly cared for, someone who truly loved him in return.
Turning to look at Lisa, he knew he had found the same thing. He considered himself lucky that the gorgeous redhead in the blue silk dress, the one who'd turned heads as they walked through the casino, was with him. She was sitting as close to him as two separate chairs would allow, her hand resting on his thigh, its heat burning into his leg.
"So, Aaron," Marina began, "Tell me the truth, have you changed your mind about my Vegas wedding idea?"
"It was nothing like I imagined, Marina," he sincerely said, "Actually, it was much better than I thought it would be."
"Lisa?" she asked, "What did you think?"
"I think I enjoyed it more than I enjoyed my wedding!" Lisa smiled, "No pre cana classes, no Monsignor Spignoli, no having to do the chicken dance and the Continental with Uncle Pat."
"Well, next time, you'll have to do it this way," Sean said, winking at his brother.
"Maybe next time, I will," Lisa smartly replied, as the band began to play. After a moment, Lisa recognized the song. "Oh…At Last…I love this song."
Hotch stood, holding out his hand, "Would you like to dance?" He watched as she smiled, a true, full smile, and then took his hand. "We'll be back," he said, exchanging a nod with Sean, and then leading her to the dance floor. He took her into his arms and for a few moments, they danced, listening as the singer did a mean Etta James impersonation.
"At last, the skies above are blue. My heart was wrapped up in clovers, the night I looked at you. I found a dream that I could speak to, a dream that I can call my own. I found a thrill to rest my cheek to, a thrill that I have never known," she sang.
He pulled back a bit and studied her face, finding her smiling at him. "What's that look for?"
She shook her head, and with an impish smile, she said, "Nope…too many Cosmos…too much romance. Not going to say what I'm thinking."
"After a build up like that," he laughed, "You have to say it."
"You'll either laugh at me or run for the hills," she said, suddenly being coy.
There was something sexy about her trying to be coy and his body was responding to it, threatening to pull the oxygen from his brain before he could get her to divulge her thoughts. The look in her eyes told him that he needed to hear those thoughts, so he pressed on.
"Considering some of the things that I've heard come from those lips of yours, I doubt heading for the hills is an option," he said. This answer satisfied her and a soft smile curled those lips.
"I was thinking," she began, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, "That it's time to call off the moratorium I placed on talking about long term commitment."
Something about those words should have caused horror to rage through his brain, but it didn't. Instead, he smiled and said, "So, long term commitment would be a possibility?"
"A very viable possibility, I believe."
"Of course, you're speaking of long term commitment between you and me, correct?"
She nodded, "Yes, I am. What are your views on this development, SSA Hotchner?"
"Well, SSA O'Reilly, it certainly has its merits," he agreed, kissing her softly. His tone grew soft, "I could very easily spend the rest of my life with you."
He watched as her smile spread, her green eyes sparkling. She kissed him softly and then pulled back and studied his eyes as if she was searching for something. "Marry me, Aaron Hotchner; spend the rest of your life with me."
He took a moment to process what had just happened, watching as worry crept into her hopeful expression. "Did you just propose to me?"
"I did," she firmly said, "I know, you're Mr. Traditional…"
He cut her off with a kiss, "Yes, I'll marry you."
Surprise registered on her features, "You said yes…"
"I did," he laughed.
"You're not mad that I asked? You're not freaked out that I'd even think…"
He kissed her again. "I'm not mad that you asked nor am I freaked out that you'd think about us being married." He debated his next words for a moment, wondering if he should open himself up that much. As he looked into her deep green eyes, he found his old friend, Lisa, the one he could bare his soul to, the one who'd seen him at his worst and didn't bat an eye, and any doubt he had evaporated, allowing him to speak the words he'd hesitated to say. "I'd been thinking of it myself."
"Really?" she asked, clearly surprised.
"Really," he concluded.
"Oh my God, did this just happen?" she asked, laughing, not noticing that they'd stopped dancing and were attracting stares.
"I believe it did," he laughed with her.
"We're getting married," she said, throwing her arms around him and holding him tight.
'We are," he returned, holding her just as tight. "Damn you, you vile woman," he laughed, "You beat me to the whole proposal."
"Leave it to me to screw up your plans," she laughed. "Should we go tell Sean and Marina?"
"And then we can leave them alone to celebrate their wedding night," he said, kissing her, "While we do some celebrating of our own."
XXXXX
"So," Lisa began, falling back onto the pillows, willing her breathing to return to normal. "Now that we've properly celebrated, should we begin the planning phase of the program?"
"Can I catch my breath before we have to look at invitation samples and go to cake tastings?" he asked, turning his head to look at her.
"You catch your breath while I talk," she smiled, rolling onto her side to face him. "Let's do it here."
"We just did it," he wryly said, "I'm not sure I can do it again that fast."
"No wise ass, not "do it", I mean let's get married here," she said, hoping that her anxiousness wouldn't send him running.
"Get married here?" he repeated.
'Yes, let's just do it and go home already married," she went on, not knowing if she was trying to convince him, or herself.
"Lisa," he began, his expression and his voice serious, "I love you and I want to marry you, but I want to do this the right way."
"The right way?" she asked, wondering where he was taking this.
"Yes, the way we're supposed to it," he countered, "With an engagement and a wedding, there's a natural progression to this whole thing. You've done it before, you know how it works. Jesus, Lisa, you don't even have a ring."
She smiled, genuinely touched by his words. "I don't need a ring…"
"The hell you don't," he firmly said, "There are just some traditions I won't give up."
"Okay," she laughed, giving into his views. "When we get home, we'll go look for a ring."
"And we'll plan a wedding," he promised.
"Not a big huge event," she said with a frown. "I can't do it again."
"I promise," he said, his smile devilish, "No Monsignor Spignoli, no pre cana classes."
"Okay," she agreed, kissing him softly, "We'll wait until we get home."
XXXXX
When he woke the next morning, he knew what he needed to do and made it his mission to do it before she woke up. However, as he slipped out of bed, he caused her to stir and slowly open her eyes. Cursing himself for not being stealthier, he kissed her softly.
"Running for the hills?" she asked with a drowsy smile.
"Not a chance," he laughed, "I was going to surprise you with coffee, but you woke up."
"I can fall back to sleep while you shower and get coffee," she said, arching her back as she stretched. "I promise, I'll look surprised."
He kissed her again, ignoring his body's desire to crawl back under the blankets with her. "Wise ass. Go back to sleep. I'll wake you when I come back."
"'kay," she yawned, rolling back onto her side and closing her eyes.
He showered and dressed quickly. Finding that she had fallen back to sleep, he slipped out of the room quietly and made his way down to the lobby. He'd promised her coffee, but that wasn't the real reason for his trip. Passing the coffee shop, he made a mental note to actually stop and pick some up on his way back to the room.
He kept walking until he reached the shops in the lobby. Standing in the center of the huge lobby, he looked around at the high end stores that surrounded him. Finding what he wanted, he made a bee line for the door way of the Tiffany and Company store. He supposed it was the early hour, but the store was nearly empty and the staff was quite attentive.
Of course, at the prices they charged, they should be attentive, very attentive. They helped him settle on a one carat cushion cut diamond, surrounded by bead set diamonds. He knew she didn't really wear a lot of gold jewelry, so the platinum setting and band were something she would like. Things were going just as planned until they threw a monkey wrench at him and asked her ring size.
Damn it, Hotchner! His mind raged, What did you think? They're one size fits all? Come on, man, you've done this before, get with the program!
After a few moments of mentally dressing himself down, he stopped gaping at the sales man, remembering that in the past, he'd held her rings at the range, while she was doing competitive shooting. To insure he wouldn't lose them, he'd slip them onto his pinky finger. With a laugh, he explained this to Pasquale, the salesman. Apparently, Pasquale had heard this one before and didn't laugh when he sized his pinky.
They'd sized the ring while he waited and in a mere half an hour, he'd made one of the largest purchases he'd made in some time. Carrying the tiffany blue bag, he made sure to stop at the coffee shop. Hands full with his purchases, he returned to the room.
He expected to find her sleeping, so he entered the room quietly. The sound of the television told him she was awake. "Honey, I'm home," he called out, walking back to the bed. He found her sitting up, tears streaming down her face. What the hell had happened in the forty five minutes he'd been gone? Had she changed her mind?
"Lisa," he began, immediately concerned. "What's wrong?"
She shook her head, wiping her eyes with a tissue.
He set the coffee and the Tiffany bag on the night stand and sat on the bed next to her, pulling her into his arms. "Talk to me…what is it?"
"This fucking movie," she sobbed.
Relief flooded through him and he released the breath he'd been holding. "What movie?"
"The Notebook," she sniffed.
He remembered that movie. Hayley had made him sit through it a few times and each time, she sobbed her way through most of the movie. That was Hayley, though. She liked "chick flicks", the more of a tear jerker the better. Lisa, on the other hand, avoided chick flicks like the plague and very rarely cried at movies, although he recalled that she did shed a few tears while watching "Braveheart".
"Hey," he softly said, kissing her forehead. "It's just a movie."
"I know," she said, blotting her eyes, "But he just loved her so much and the whole thing about her having Alzheimer's and not knowing him…" her eyes filled with tears again.
"That's it," he said, picking up the remote and turning off the television, "No more chick flicks for you." He needed her to stop crying so that he could give her the very overpriced diamond in the tiffany blue box that he'd just purchased.
"Would you do that for me?" she asked.
"Would I do what for you?" he countered, pulling his mind back to the movie and trying to remember what exactly the lead character did.
"Not leave my side, even if I had Alzheimer's and didn't know who you were?"
That question took him totally off guard. It wasn't something he expected to hear come out of her mouth, although, he'd have thought she knew the answer. Either way, he smiled at her and softly said, "Isn't that what the "til death do you part" section is referring to?"
She nodded, "I'm being a fool," she laughed, "This is why I don't watch this crap. So, did you get me coffee?"
"Chocolate hazelnut," he said, with a knowing smile.
"I do love you," she grinned, tears still in her eyes. "Where is it?"
"It's here," he said, reaching back onto the nightstand and pulling the box out of its bag. "But I've got something for you first."
"Something before coffee?" she asked, brows raised. "If it comes before caffeine, it had better be good."
"I think you'll like it," he said, handing her the box.
Surprise registered on her face, "Tiffany's? Hotch, what did you do?"
"I put on a ski mask and robbed the place," he dismissed, "Just open it."
She removed the lid from the blue box and then pulled out a smaller, blue velvet ring box. He watched as excitement danced in her eyes. She looked up at him, then back to the box.
"Is this what I think it is?" she asked.
Damn, woman, he thought, just open the God Damned box! But he said, "Why don't you open it and find out?"
He watched as she opened the box and gasped, her eyes grew wide.
"So, do you like it?"
"Oh my God," she said, and he knew he'd made the right choice. "It's…amazing."
He took the box from her hands and removed the ring. "Give me your hand," he said. She did as he asked and he slipped the ring on her finger, saying a silent prayer of thanks that it really did fit. "Now, we're properly engaged."
"Now, can we start the planning portion?" she asked, with a grin. "If you want to go home and do the whole wedding thing, we need to start working on it."
"I've been thinking about that," he seriously said, "Your first idea was probably right on target."
"My first idea?"
"Getting married here," he said, watching as her smile grew.
"Do you want to?"
"Why not," he agreed. "Think we can pull it off before our flight leaves tomorrow?"
"Have you forgotten who you're speaking to?" she smartly said, "What time it it?"
"Nine am."
"Okay, I need to get up and get in the shower. We're going to have to get moving if we want to do this today." With a quick peck on the lips, she was out of bed and into the bathroom.
Leaning back on the pillows, he shut his eyes and took a deep breath, taking a moment to relax. He knew, that until they said "I do" at some point later today, this would be the last moment of rest he'd be getting.
