A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this. Go check out her page, she's an awesome author!
Chapter 28
Sam had plans the next day to go looking for something to wear to his wedding. He'd been planning the outing for a few days and didn't want to postpone it, though it took all of his energy to drag himself out of bed. He managed to slip out without waking Gilbert and tiredly made his way down to breakfast. Ichabod and Edward were already at the table, and Ichabod was feeding Edward, as per usual.
"Good morning," Edward said, in between bites of toast.
"Morning," Sam said, pouring himself some cereal.
"Long night?" Ichabod asked, noting the bags under Sam's eyes.
"Yeah... really long," Sam said, stifling a yawn.
Ichabod nodded in understanding.
"I was going to go get myself an outfit for the wedding today, but I'm not sure if I'll be awake enough to pay attention to what I'm choosing," Sam continued.
"I can go with you, if you'd like," Ichabod offered.
Just then, Gilbert entered the room, apparently having woken up a few minutes after Sam.
"Hey," He said, softly, taking a seat near his friend.
"Hey." Sam replied, eyes fixed on his cornflakes.
"So... do you want me to go?" Ichabod asked, as Sam hadn't answered him.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, it would be great if you came with." Sam then noticed that Edward was looking down, at his hands on his lap, probably feeling left out. "Edward, it would be nice if you came along, too."
Edward seemed to perk up at being invited somewhere, even cracking a smile. "Sure."
"Cool. I figure we can head out around eleven... maybe take the bus down to the center of town?"
"Where are you guys going?" Gilbert asked, cutting into the conversation.
"We're going to get me an outfit for the wedding," Sam answered, still not looking at him.
"Oh. I can probably help you with that too," Gilbert said.
"If you want to."
Gilbert was pretty smart, and he realized right away that Sam was probably just being polite. He knew he'd been keeping Sam awake a lot lately.
"Actually... I forgot, I have to help Dr. Schnabel with some stuff today."
"Okay."
Ichabod and Edward watched the awkward exchange silently. Eventually, Sam finished his cereal, and got up from the table, cleaning the area around his bowl as he typically did. "So, see you at eleven, then?"
Both men nodded, and continued eating quietly. They pretended not to notice the hurt look on Gilbert's face as Sam walked away.
00
Sam, Ichabod, and Edward definitely stuck out like sore thumbs on the bus. Most people there were not used to seeing pregnant men, especially dressed the way they were. Sam had on a pair of gray sweats, a blue sweatshirt, a blue jacket and his hat. He was the only semi-normal looking one. Ichabod was wearing an ugly combination of maroon maternity pants and a orange shirt with a black jacket, and Sam secretly thought he looked like an overly colorful jack-o-lantern. He briefly wondered where Ichabod had even gotten those clothes from. They didn't look like anything that any store in their right mind would sell. Edward had on his black sweat pants and black and red shirt, which was now stretched far too tightly across him, and he had a sweater over that. It looked to be the one that Mort had lent to Jack, red with white snowflakes, and it, too was stretched far too tightly. With his messy hair and scissor hands, everyone seemed to be eyeing him the most, probably wondering if he was some psycho.
Sam ignored the dirty looks the other passengers were giving them, focusing on thoughts of his wedding and what type of clothing he wanted to get.
The bus dropped them off downtown, and Sam couldn't help but noticed the relieved looks on the faces of most of the passengers as the three of them stepped off.
They stopped at a department store on Third Ave. If anywhere would have a decent selection, this would be it. The menswear section was in the back of the store, and Sam was grateful that it was empty. He really didn't feel like being stared at anymore.
"What about this?" Sam asked, grabbing a gray suit. It had a bunch of pockets on it, and was obviously made for someone who wanted to look different from the norm.
"It's a bit much, isn't it?" Ichabod asked.
Sam looked at Edward, wanting his opinion, but Edward didn't seem to be paying attention to anything but his feet. Sam guessed that he was probably nervous being out in public for so long.
"I could try it on anyway."
Ichabod shrugged, "May as well. Do you even know what size you are?"
Sam shook his head, "I dunno. I've been wearing sweat pants for like two months now. When I proposed to Joon, I was wearing 34s, but those were tight then."
"Okay, so, let's try 36-38."
"Okay."
Over the next hour, Sam went about choosing six different outfits that he intended to try on. Each one was different, all of them unique in some way. Ichabod had just nodded and told him to give them a shot, then led Sam to the dressing rooms.
"We'll wait out here," Ichabod said, pulling Edward along with him. The younger man still seemed to be very nervous and wasn't doing much besides shuffling around wherever Ichabod and Sam went.
The two waited patiently for Sam to finish trying everything on, but when twenty minutes passed and he still hadn't come out to show them anything, Ichabod started to wonder if something was up.
"Sam?" He asked, knocking on the door to the room that Sam had gone into. "Are you alive in there?"
Sam gave a loud sigh.
"Yeah..." he replied softly, "I'm here."
"Well did you find anything you liked?"
Sam sighed again, and came out, dressed again in his sweats and jacket. "None of them look right. They're all either too tight or too loose or they make me look fat. I'll never find anything decent," He said, frowning.
"We'll find you something. Don't worry," Ichabod reassured him, smiling.
Sam didn't feel so confident, but he followed Ichabod back out any way.
Ichabod seemed to be thinking very hard about the choices of suits in front of them, and soon enough, he picked up a simple black jacket. "Why don't you try this, with a pair of black pants and a white shirt?"
"It's really simple..." Sam replied, looking the outfit over.
"Simple can be good sometimes."
"Fine, but if this doesn't work, I'm giving up. I'll marry Joon in sweatpants and flip flops."
Ichabod rolled his eyes, and pushed Sam towards the dressing area. "Just be quiet and try it on."
Sam emerged a few minutes later, wearing the outfit.
"It actually looks good," He said, looking himself over in one of the mirrors on the walls.
"It's missing something..." Ichabod said, looking around. He grabbed a black bow tie off of one of the shelves nearby and began to fasten it to Sam's shirt. "Put your hat on," He instructed once he was finished.
Sam put his hat on, and looked in the mirror once again. His face lit up.
"Wow! You did it! You found the perfect outfit!"
"See? I told you we'd find something," Ichabod answered, smiling again.
Sam turned to Edward. "What do you think?"
Edward looked up from his feet, and looked Sam over. "You look nice," He replied, quietly, "I think it's the best choice."
"Great. Wow, thanks Ichabod!" He said, pulling the shorter man into a hug.
Ichabod seemed a little taken back by the action, but patted Sam on the back kindly. "No problem. Why don't you go change into your regular clothes and we'll go pay for it."
"We still have time, there's no rush to... oh," Sam said, only now noticing that a few customers had gathered and were staring, mainly at Edward again. Edward just shifted around uncomfortably, caught between wanting to go off somewhere to hide and trying to be nice to Sam.
Once they saw Sam look up at them, a few people began to mumble amongst themselves, no doubt saying nasty things. People could be really horrible, sometimes, and adults could often be worse than children when it came to insults.
Sam walked back into the dressing room, changed as fast as possible, and the three made their way out, trying their best to ignore everyone else around them.
00
As soon as they got back to the shelter, Sam made a beeline to the bathroom. He always seemed to have to pee constantly lately; one of the wonderful symptoms of being nearly seven months pregnant.
Sam opened the door to the bathroom to see a sight that he hadn't expected. Buster was standing on the edge of the toilet, drinking out of the bowl.
The cat looked at Sam, and Sam stared back at the cat, deciding what to do. Finally he decided that his need to use the bathroom outweighed allowing Buster to enjoy a drink of toilet water.
"Outta the way, cat," He said, gently lifting the cat off the toilet seat and plopping him down on the rug. Buster looked up at him from the floor, clearly offended.
Not waiting for Buster to leave, Sam sighed when he noticed that the cat was still staring at him. It was going to be impossible for him to go, even if it was only an animal.
"I NEED TO PEE," He yelled at the cat, and the cat just continued staring, obviously implementing its own version of revenge for being pushed off the toilet seat.
"AGH. You. Need. To. Leave. Now.," Sam said, picking up the gray cat and bringing him towards the bathroom door. Sam opened the door to put the cat outside, not realizing that Mort was walking through the hallway.
"Uh, wow," Mort said, walking by. "What's going on?"
"Your stupid cat won't let me use the bathroom!" Sam said, shoving the cat in Mort's direction.
"He won't let you go, or you won't let him drink from the toilet?" Mort questioned, as Buster walked over to him and began to rub on his legs. "That's a good boy, you show that crazy Sam that you can do what you want," He said, petting the cat behind its ears.
"You know that he does that?! You know what, I have to go. I'm not dealing with this now," Sam said, slamming the bathroom door behind him as he went back in.
"Some people," Mort said, shaking his head as he continued to pet his cat
