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A/n here's the next chapter. Please enjoy and thank you for your support of this story.
Spencer opened his eyes to darkness and the sound of someone singing in another room. He blinked, shook his head, and stretched out his arms. "Chriscelia," he frowned when his fingers encountered air, and the fabric of her sheets, instead of her warm body.
He found his fiancée in the kitchen. She wore her headphones and wrote furiously in a notebook as she sang and bobbed her head to the music.
"Turn the radio on, to that sweet sound. Hold me close never let me go. Keep this feeling alive, make me lose control. Baby, baby. When I look in your eyes I go crazy, Fever's high with the lights down low, so take me over the edge, make me lose control."
She looked up and jerked in surprise; then her cheeks went bright red. "Why are you lurking? You scared me." She yanked off her headphones.
"Sorry, didn't mean to, but you're so cute there, writing away and singing that song."
"I couldn't sleep, and I finally have the energy and desire to write, thanks to you."
"Why me?" Spencer wondered as he approached the kitchen table on bare feet.
"Because I'm engaged to the sweetest, kindest, hottest man in existence. You took care of me when I was sick and cranky, and know that I'm well, I feel inspired, and I had to come out here and work."
"It's six am." He pointed out.
"Yeah, I've been out here since five. When the Muse calls, there's no resisting."
"Well then, I think I'll go back to sleep for a few hours. You can work without distraction, and I'll recharge after last night," he waggled his eyebrows at her.
"You're a funny man, Spencer. You're the one that seduced me even though I'm barely recovered from illness. You should be ashamed of yourself."
Spencer rolled his eyes. "I remember it differently. You're the one that jumped on me."
"Your recall is a bit faulty for a genius with an eidetic memory."
"Perhaps, but spending time with you is better than work or thinking about my mom."
"Oh baby," she jumped up and hurried to him. "You haven't spoken much about her in the last couple of weeks."
He hugged her tight and sighed. "I think about her every day, but talking still hurts."
"I know," she looked up at him and smiled.
"Yes, you do. Is it wrong for me to say that I'm glad I have someone that's recently lost a parent and understands how I feel?"
"No, of course not. I envy you, though."
"Why," he wondered as she tightened her arms around his waist.
"Because you and your mom had such a strong bond. My dad and I barely spoke. My mom and I were close, but she's been gone for a couple of years now, and the pain is muted."
"You're saying you want more pain."
"No," she pulled back again and looked at him. "I just want to be able to empathize completely with you, honey. I want you to know I'm here and I understand."
"I do, and I want the same for you." He kissed her gently and smiled. "You're the best."
"Yes, I know," she responded and laughed when he sighed.
"Don't you have another dress fitting today," he reminded her.
She pulled back and shook her head. "Thanks for reminding me. I completely forgot about it."
"Why are you frowning?" Spencer asked as he ran one hand up and down her arm.
"It's my wedding, Spencer. How can I forget a dress fitting? What's the matter with me?"
"Nothing," he assured her with another kiss. "You've been overwhelmed for months, and that's why you succumbed to an infection. Give yourself a break, okay?"
"Alright," she agreed. "I promise to take care of myself from now on."
Spencer grinned at her. "Good, because I want you around for a very long time."
She lightly punched him on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get dressed and start the day. I'll make you your favorite breakfast."
Spencer's eyes lit up, and she laughed. "Sounds good to me."
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Chriscelia watched Spencer dress in what he liked to call his new off-duty attire, jeans, a tee shirt with Cal-tech printed on the front, mismatched socks, and old Converse shoes that looked like they might fall to pieces at any minute. She giggled, and Spencer looked up with sexy, beautiful, and inquiring hazel eyes. "What?"
"Nothing, I love your look."
He looked down at the jeans, which was nearly new and the shirt, which was old, but still in great condition. "I'm glad you like it, but I'll be honest, I'm still not sure about the jeans. I'm more comfortable in slacks or cords."
"Trust me, you look great. I wish you'd wear your shorts, though. You have cute legs."
He sent her a withering look and raked his hands through his wavy, disordered hair. "What happened to accepting me for me."
"I do, my love. I thought you might like to expand your horizons a bit, and you must agree, or you wouldn't have consented to my taking you shopping for new clothes."
He sighed and left his shoulders to drop. "Yes, I agree that I wanted to try something new. I'm just not ready to throw out the old."
"You don't have to. I love your sweater vests and your suits."
"I'm glad you approve," he responded as she smirked at him.
"Come on; we're going to be late."
Spencer frowned. "I don't want to go."
"Why not?"
"Because I know Morgan and Rossi won't quit until they find something ridiculous for me to wear."
Chriscelia bit her lip to keep from smiling. "Honey, they want what's best for you. Now, stop frowning and go. You've put it off long enough."
"Alright," he capitulated. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
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Pam hugged Chriscelia the minute she walked into the bridal shop. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, Pam."
Pam pulled back and looked her over. "I've been worried about you. Why didn't you let me bring you my famous chicken soup?"
"I didn't want you to get sick."
Pam shook her head and put her hands on her hips. "I'm your best friend. What did you expect me to do, not worry?"
"Yes, it was just an infection. I'm fine. Geez, between you and Spencer, you'd think I was in danger of dying."
Pam's eyes narrowed. "Don't joke about that," she warned. "We both love you."
Chriscelia nodded and sighed. "I know you do and I'm grateful for all my friends."
"Speaking of friends, Rebecca called, and she's on her way."
"Late as usual," Chriscelia said with a laugh.
"She wouldn't be Rebecca if she wasn't constantly late."
A woman with copper red hair flowing down her back and a light blue blouse with white pants entered from the back with a garment bag in her arms. "Hello," she greeted them in a voice that Chriscelia thought belonged in some tiny seaside village blanketed in fog and wrapped in mystery.
"Hi, Monique."
"How are you? Pam said you were ill."
"I'm fine."
Monique smiled, and her cobalt blue eyes crinkled at the edges. "Well, let's try on the dress and see what needs to be altered."
Chriscelia followed her, and by the time she emerged, Rebecca had arrived. "Oh, honey you look marvelous," exclaimed the tiny woman. Her chestnut colored curls bounced as she spoke.
"Thank you."
"Oh yeah, Spencer's going to love it," Pam agreed enthusiastically.
"Your friends are right," Monique remarked. "You look amazing."
Chriscelia studied her reflection in the mirror as Monique began to make notes in a notebook and added pins here and there.
"I wish I were getting married," Rebecca observed. "You look like a fairy queen," she sighed and didn't notice when Pam rolled her eyes and smirked at Chriscelia.
"It'll be your turn soon enough," Chriscelia responded.
"I don't know," Rebecca frowned. "Jared's dragging his feet on marriage."
"Let's enjoy Chriscelia's wedding, then we can worry about you and Jared."
"Right," Rebecca sighed dramatically. "You found the perfect guy. I'm so jealous."
Chriscelia's eyebrows lifted. "He's maybe perfect, but he's mine."
Pam and Rebecca giggled, and Monique smiled indulgently. "Every bride says the same thing," she remarked as she took her final measurements.
"In Spencer's case, it's true."
After Chriscelia had changed back to street clothes, she waited as the girls tried on the dresses they picked for their roles as bridesmaids. "You want to go to lunch when we're done."
"You read my mind," Rebecca enthused.
It was Pam's turn to roll her eyes as they made their way back to the change rooms. "If I get to pick the restaurant."
"No way," Rebecca countered. "You always pick that place in Mclean that only serves vegetarian. I need something more substantial."
"How do you think I keep my figure."
"I vote with Rebecca," Chriscelia put in. "I'm sure wherever we go, there's at least one vegetarian option for you."
"Alright, I give up."
They met in the front of the store. "Let's go."
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"I'm going to look ridiculous," Spencer moaned as he tried on tuxedo number four."
Morgan smirked as he surveyed his reflection in the mirror. "Pretty boy, if you'd calm down and take a look at yourself, you'd see that we picked the perfect tux."
Spencer sighed and surveyed his reflection in the mirror as salesman hovered around him, flicking off lint from his pants and tugging on the sleeves to align them perfectly.
"Your friend is correct," said the gray-haired man in a dark suit, red tie, and shoes so highly polished they reflected Spencer's face when he looked down. "This selection drapes perfectly from your shoulders and waist."
Spencer rolled his eyes, and Morgan shook his head. "He's right, kid. Chriscelia's going to love it."
"I suppose you're right."
He took a good long look at his choice and found that he liked the effect of the black tuxedo, the collarless white shirt, and the silver vest.
"Alright, at least that's over," he said minutes later when they left the store together.
"You sound as if you just came through the Inquisition."
"Funny, Morgan. I think you're overstating it a bit."
The sun beat down on them and made him wish that he'd taken Chriscelia's advice and worn shorts. Morgan had no trouble wearing shorts, and he didn't seem to be suffering in the heat.
"Come on, kid, let's go get a beer and fish and chips and Smitty's. You'll feel better once we get out of the heat."
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"So, how was your fitting," Spencer asked later.
Chriscelia brought them iced tea and curled up next to Spencer on the couch. "I'll feel better once this is over."
Spencer stroked her hair as she drank from her glass. "It will be in less than five weeks."
"I'm just glad we got the invitations set, and the venue is confirmed."
Spencer sat back and wrapped his arms around his fiancée. "Why don't we take a break from all the wedding talk and do something fun this afternoon, like go to the movies."
Chriscelia smiled up at him. "Only if I get to pick the movie."
Spencer frowned, and Chriscelia chuckled. "I promise I won't make you go to a chick flick."
Spencer shook hands with her as though agreeing to a business deal. "You're on."