Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Forty-Nine

Jamming the last of his DVDs into his backpack, Jim zipped it closed and sighed after staring at his watch for the umpteenth time in the last twenty minutes. It didn't make the time go any faster. In fact, if he didn't know any better, he almost believed that the digital minutes were moving backwards instead of forward, adding more minutes to the ones he had already suffered through. Rolling his eyes, frustrated with himself, he wondered if he could get any lamer or more desperate. But he couldn't deny the fact that he didn't just want to see Trixie. He needed to see her. He pushed aside the navy blue curtains on his window and glanced in the direction of the hollow where her house rested. Would she be alone? Had her family already left? Well aware that they were going to be the only two in residence at the farmhouse for the evening, more eager for that than he cared to admit, he decided that he couldn't wait a second longer. He shouldered his backpack and opened his door, twin feelings of anticipation and nervousness assaulting him.

Stepping into the hall, he was brought up short by the lovely young lady nervously pacing in her room across the hall. A small breath of air whooshed out before he could stop it. Amazed by what he saw, temporarily forgetting the need to get to Crabapple Farm, he pushed open the rest of her bedroom door and called out loudly, breaking into her pacing, "Honey?"

She whirled around gracefully on her high heels, her eyes large and wide, and a nervous laugh trilling out of her slack mouth. She pressed a hand to her rapidly beating heart, nearly scared out of her wits by his entrance into her room. She hadn't heard him. Instead, she had been too caught up in her preparations for the upcoming evening. "Jim," she responded somewhat stupidly and walked towards him, wringing her hands together in agitation. "I didn't hear you come in."

He held out his hands and took hers within his, surprised to feel them trembling. She was tense. Nodding to himself, he decided that he would attempt to alleviate some of her nerves, if at all possible. "Well, let's get a good look at you, Honey," he mumbled, thinking that Brian was going to be extremely pleased with his date. It would be like a mixture of pure heaven and absolute hell for his best friend. Jim almost felt sorry for him. Almost. He would have, if it wasn't for the fact that he knew he would be experiencing the same feelings all evening long himself.

Honey felt a rosy blush spread across her face, accentuating the light make-up she had already applied and making her look ever prettier. The ivory dress set off the beginning of her summer tan. It was held in place by a trio of thin spaghetti straps on each shoulder, and was very modest in the front, not allowing for even a hint of cleavage, but dipped lower in the back. The skirt hit just above her well-toned calves. It was long and flowed gently with each movement that she took, almost as if it was made out of water. Crystals were interspersed throughout the ivory material, catching the light and making the dress sparkle and shine in an impossibly magical way. Matching ivory heels, a thin gold necklace, and tasteful gold hoops that dangled from her ears finished off the outfit. She smoothed a hand over her honey-colored hair, being careful not to muss up the elegant French twist that was held neatly in place by pins topped with sparkling crystals, and blew out a small breath, wishing that she could dispel her nerves as easily. "You haven't said anything, Jim. Tell me. What do you think?" she asked after Jim didn't respond.

It wasn't hard. He spoke the truth. "You are beautiful," he replied solemnly. In her ivory dress and with her hair pulled up, she didn't resemble the high school girl he knew anymore. With her aristocratic good looks and that sweet, graceful quality that shone straight out from her heart, she looked like she could have graced the cover of a multitude of fashion magazines instead of merely getting ready for a special event in high school. She was all grown up. Even though he had only been her brother for a short amount of time, he couldn't help but be proud of her, as well as feel a little sad that she wasn't the young girl he had first met, that fateful July morning so many years earlier. He could only imagine how their parents were going to feel when they saw her for the first time and watched her walk down the staircase in a few minutes. She was going to tear their hearts out. Clearing his throat, he declared, "I think Brian's one hell of a lucky guy."

The blush worsened but only made her more attractive. "He's not a real date, Jim. You know that," she admonished him gently. Not that she was complaining. She was beyond excited that Brian Belden was her escort, even if he only became her date by default, but she was going into the evening with her eyes wide open and without any illusions on her part. Brian was her friend, her good friend. It ran like a litany through her mind, almost taunting her with the veracity of the words and going completely against the grain of what she wanted him to be to her. "He's being a good friend. He only volunteered to take me to the prom out of pity. You know that. Nothing else, Jim."

He knew no such thing but it would be up to Brian to chase away that delusion of hers, not him. "Whatever the reason, he is going to be very pleased," he said neutrally in deference to their friend. He gallantly offered her his arm and changed the subject, "Can I escort you down the hall, Miss Wheeler? There are many people who are waiting to see you."

Honey covered her mouth, attempting to remember all that she needed for the night. "In a minute. In a minute," she mumbled, her eyebrows drawn together. Then it came to her. In direct contrast to the elegance of her attire, she scurried over to her nightstand and triumphantly picked up her purse, holding it aloft like it was a prized flag. "I need this, Jim! Oh, and I also need my cell phone. What would I do without that? Now, let's see. Where could it be?" A small frown wrinkling her forehead, she searched through her sparkly purse, grumbling to herself, but couldn't find her cell within its contents.

Grinning at her antics, Jim sauntered over to her dresser and picked. Unable to hide his amusement, he announced, laughter dancing in his voice, "Here it is, Honey."

She smiled gratefully and took it from him, refusing to be embarrassed. Glancing down, she saw that she had a new text. "Oh, look!" she exclaimed, reading it quickly, and feeling her heart rate start to accelerate. "It's from Di! She just sent it to me, about two minutes ago. She says that Mart just arrived at her house so that means…"

"Brian should be here in any minute," Jim completed for her, hiding a chuckle at the starry-eyed look on her face. She didn't have the best poker-face in the world. Offering her his arm again, he questioned, "Do you want to make a grand entrance after Brian gets here?"

"Oh, no! No, no!" Honey denied strongly, shaking her head. "I couldn't do that. That's not me at all. I'd rather be downstairs waiting. Then I won't have to worry about tripping and falling down the stairs." She giggled nervously. "Wouldn't that be awful? There I would be, all dressed up in my prom night finery, sprawled at the bottom of the staircase. And there are an awful lot of stairs to go down, you know." Unaware that she had lapsed into her trademark rambling speech and that Jim was once again inwardly laughing at her, she touched the corsage Brian had thoughtfully supplied her with and felt immediately more serene. The corsage adorned her wrist, her choice, because she hadn't had the heart to poke a hole into the gentle fabric of her dress. A trio of lovely white roses, trimmed with green leaves and baby's breath, peeped up at her, tied together with a gold ribbon. "Yes. I will go down now," she finished decidedly.

Chuckling, he started forward, keeping a leisurely pace, with her arm tucked snugly under his. "I'll bet you anything that Mother and Dad have been waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you for the past hour. They'll be down there, ready to snap a ton of pictures of you and Brian."

"That would be a fool's bet. I'm not going to take that one. I'm already prepared to smile until my lips fall off my face," Honey shared, keeping her steps slow and deliberate lest she should fall. The hallway seemed to have tripled in size. She couldn't remember the last time it had taken her so long to reach the stairs. When they finally made it to the staircase, she stopped, earning herself a concerned look from Jim, and took a series of deep, calming breaths before they began their descent, one hand tucked under her brother's arm and the other lightly trailing down the glossy railing.

As expected, Matthew and Madeleine Wheeler were waiting at the bottom of the staircase, standing on the tastefully expensive carpet that decorated the foyer, with twin expressions of awe and pride on their face while they watched their children coming towards them. Gasping, almost forgetting what she had in her hand, Madeleine jerked up the camera at her side and started flashing away, hoping to catch as many moments from the night as she could.

His green eyes had gone soft, an expression many of his business partners wouldn't believe he was capable of. Matthew couldn't take them off of his daughter, wondering to himself where the time had gone. He couldn't comprehend that the lovely young lady coming towards them was his Honey. "When did she grow up?" he murmured quietly to his wife, giving her a supporting arm around her waist.

Tears were sparkling like diamonds in her soft hazel eyes. "Under our very noses, Matthew," she whispered back, blinking them away, unwilling to let anything mar her excitement for the evening. She took another picture, earning a chuckle from Jim and a small smile from their daughter. With the two halfway to the bottom of the staircase, she hurriedly added, "And she's getting to go to her prom with Brian Belden. You know that was her dream, Matthew, whether she ever admitted it to us or not." Madeleine couldn't have been more pleased with the change in dates.

"Humph," Matthew got out, unsure how he felt about that. He certainly liked and respected the young man, couldn't have asked for a better escort for his daughter, but he had a sneaky suspicion that the second the doctor-to-be caught a glimpse of his little girl, the deal would be sealed, if it hadn't been already. A man of his word, Brian would wait out his sentence with as much patience as possible, as surely as their own son was waiting out his, but he speculated that there was going to more to celebrate in twenty-five days besides a high school graduation between the youngsters in their collective families.

Madeleine elbowed him gently in the stomach, never having been a fan of the limit both fathers had insisted on setting for their eldest sons although she couldn't have argued against the wisdom of it. As much as she hated to admit it, there was a huge difference between fifteen and eighteen. But, if it had been up to her, she would have let Jim and Brian off the hook a year ago. Helen had been supportive of her idea but not Matthew and Peter. Both had proven to be extremely stubborn, much more than she had expected them to be, and much to her and Helen's combined chagrin. Neither had been willing to give in. They still weren't willing, even with the frightening events of the past few weeks, and how well all of the young people had survived and thrived through it all. "Take the remaining time you have to accept it," she advised him softly. "If you're having trouble with it, I'm certain that you could call Peter and commiserate with him."

That was the best idea he had heard all day. Momentarily letting it go, knowing he had all the time in the world to dwell on it and that he had a good friend who could sympathize with him, he opened his arms to his daughter and gave her the longest embrace that he could. "You are amazing," he told her, stepping back to get another look. He cupped her face. "You look exactly the way your mother did, the first time I saw her."

Madeleine blushed, remembering the occasion well, and cut in front of Matthew, demanding her own hug. Unable to come up with anything profound, she managed to get out past the lump of emotion in her throat, "I love you, Honey."

Honey dabbed at her tears, wondering why she was so emotional, and laid her head on her mother's shoulder. She fleetingly wondered if Di was having the same poignant experience. It was the first thing she was going to ask Di when she got the chance. "I love you, too, Mother."

"Notice she forgot to say that to us," Matthew said in a loud stage whisper to Jim, placing a solid hand onto his son's shoulder.

Grinning, Jim shot back, "I thought I was the only one who caught on to that."

"I heard that." Honey reached over and tapped her brother's arm, grateful for the teasing that helped to chase away the odd emotional roller-coaster she seemed to be riding on with no hope of getting off it. Her giggle was a mix of amusement, happiness, and a twinge of hysteria. Slashing a smile at them, she added, "I love both of you, too. But you already know that."

Madeleine grabbed the camera. "I need to get a picture of the two of you," she announced suddenly.

Jim stared down at his clothes and arched an eyebrow. "I'm a little underdressed," he said dryly, pointing to his jeans and his dark green shirt.

Honey threaded her arm through his and dragged him towards the staircase. "Hey, I'm more than willing to share the spotlight with you, Jim." She positioned herself next to him and pasted a bright, vibrant smile on her lips, thankful that she had talked her mother out of hiring a professional photographer for the event.

Madeleine held up the camera, snapped the picture and then frowned at the digital result displayed on the screen. "How could it be so fuzzy?" she wondered aloud, in absolute amazement, not noticing that she had also managed to cut off Jim's head.

His wife was a notoriously bad picture-taker. Matthew took the camera back from her, one of the most high-tech and expensive cameras out there and which was supposed to be unable to take fuzzy and unclear pictures, and studied the result. He deleted it since it was useless and then scrolled through the pictures of Honey and Jim descending the staircase. He had to stifle a laugh for his wife's sake. The results were terrible and proved exactly why she had wanted to hire a professional. "I'll handle the rest of the pictures," he told Madeleine easily and with only a hint of laughter to his voice before he directed Honey and Jim again. He flashed a few of Honey and Jim together, with much better results than his wife. Madeleine stared over his shoulder, pleased with the digital displays.

Then there was the discrete ring of the doorbell, cutting through the comfort of the family scene in the foyer. An immediate air of expectation and anticipation settled over them. Everyone turned to look at it, knowing exactly who was on the other side. Honey took a deep breath that was meant to help calm her but only increased her anxiety, while her heart began beating out a wild tattoo. She pressed a hand over it, afraid that it may pound out of her chest. With a combination of apprehension and a rather delightful amount of fear, she watched her brother walk towards the door. It seemed like time stood still while she waited for Jim to open the wide front door. She didn't move, couldn't move, and was relatively sure that she had forgotten how to breathe, let alone think. Finally, Jim turned the handle and threw back the door. He said something to Brian that made him smile back at her brother but it didn't register past the pounding in ears. Then she felt her heart drop to the floor. It simply fell. There was nothing she could do about it. If she had only felt the stirrings of love for him before, now she knew what the emotion truly felt miraculous like. What a lovely, amazing, and absolutely scary thing, she thought to herself, hoping that the truth of it wasn't reflecting on her face for all to see. It was astonishing to actually be in love with her prom date. It had to add something extra to the evening, something pure and magical, and something that she would never be able to forget, even if he didn't reciprocate her feelings.

Brian was caught in the same type of spell. He knew Jim said something to him, could only hope that he had responded appropriately, and put a smile on his face that would cover for any blunder he had potentially made. He was almost certain that he replied before the nerves that had claimed him rose to a fever pitch. But the second he saw Honey, he felt instantly calmed. His feet may have been knocked out from under him and his stomach felt like he had been on the receiving end of a heavyweight punch but the nerves had suddenly dissipated, leaving only her in their wake. She was a vision, beyond anything he had ever imagined, and he suddenly felt that one Michael Hartman had to be his new best friend. He was going to have to thank him. Without that idiot backing out on her at the last minute, he would never have been able to step into his shoes. Appreciative of the fact that his voice sounded relatively normal and didn't break when he spoke, he started towards her and said, "Hello, Honey."

"Hello, Brian." Honey took the hand he offered her, a tiny smile gracing her lips. A little embarrassed with her parents and brother closely watching them, unaware of the knowing smiles and pointed looks being passed between the three, she didn't tell him how handsome she found him to be, hoping for a time when they were a little more private, and wondering frantically how she was going to make it through the evening without making a complete and utter fool of herself. Standing in front of her was the man of her dreams.

Madeleine guessed her daughter's feelings and swiftly stepped in, pointing to the camera in Matthew's hands. "It's time for pictures!" she declared happily, earning a chuckle from her husband and breaking the spell tactfully. "You don't have to worry about me ruining the pictures. Matthew has already volunteered to be our photographer for the night. We'll start out here and then move to the garden. There are some lovely places I want to get pictures of the two of you."

Even while he chuckled and put the camera to his eyes, he couldn't help but feel that he was looking through something more than a mere, ordinary camera lens. It felt like he was getting a glimpse into the future, roughly five years down the line. It wasn't the prom he was taking pictures of anymore. Instead, it was his daughter's wedding. Noting the proud way that Brian carried himself in his black tux, as well as the magnificent picture his daughter made in her ivory grown, it wasn't hard for him to make the correlation between prom night and wedding day. They were both happy and at ease with each other, a flawless match that he couldn't and definitely shouldn't deny, and he felt the uncomfortable sting of tears in his eyes. Even their clothes foretold of the future event. It would happen. He could see it clear as day and felt his own heart crack a little, already experiencing the loss of his little girl to someone else. "Smile, everyone," he ordered, his voice huskier than normal and earning a worried look from his wife.

Jim nodded, watching the proceedings masterminded by his parents, before he casually slipped out of the room without a word of farewell. His parents were too caught up in getting the perfect pictures while Honey and Brian were too caught up in each other, hardly unable to take their eyes off of each other. He closed the door behind him quietly behind him, aware that his parents wanted a montage of pictures, both inside the house and outside of it, and felt a stirring of pity for his sister and her date. The picture-taking frenzy would only continue once Di and Mart arrived with the limo, one of the reasons why his parents had been more than willing to allow the Lynches to supply it. They had been crafty, knowing that they would be the only set of parents allowed to have the opportunity to photograph both couples. Then he forgot about his friends and their evening and pounded down the steps of the front porch, eager to begin his night with the lady of his choice, completely ignorant of the other Bob-White appearing on the premises.

Having parked his truck next to the Belden van, Dan strolled across the parking lot, a wicked grin flashing across his lips when he noticed Jim leaving the Manor House. Unable to pass up the opportunity, absolutely delighted with the fact that Jim Frayne had come into his view, he called out loudly, "Hey, Jim!" Laughing inwardly at the sudden tautness that appeared on his friend's frame, telling him plainly that Jim didn't want to be interrupted, he ran the few feet to catch up to him, all the while knowing that he was the last person Jim wanted to see, but he couldn't help himself. Teasing Jim was turning into one of his favorite pastimes.

Jim halted in his steps, hands on his hips, and stared up at the blue sky, wondering what he had in a former life to make him endure yet another round of Dan's teasing. He swallowed a big, disappointed groan and turned to face his friend, who was yet another roadblock in his quest to get down to Crabapple Farm, and couldn't' find it within him to dredge up a smile. Daniel Mangan was most unpleasant roadblock of the evening. He wouldn't let him get away unscathed. With the type of luck he was having, he doubted he would be able to get to see Trixie until tomorrow morning. "Dan," he ground out, his voice deceptively calm, even and coated with forced friendliness. When Dan only grinned back at him, he kicked a stone and was forced to ask when the silence stretched on between them, although he didn't particularly care to know the answer, "Are you here to visit Regan?"

Dan's smile grew even wider with the hopeful twinge to Jim's voice. "That's the plan," he answered cheerfully, tossing back his longer black hair and holding up the paper bag in his hand. "I just pulled up. I brought dinner for Uncle Bill, courtesy of Mr. Maypenny, as well as a few movies for us to choose from." Watching the sparks of impatience begin to flare in the emerald green eyes, Dan prepared to enjoy himself.

"He must be feeling better," Jim remarked inanely, his feet itching to take him down the extremely well-worn path, and irritation painted vibrantly across his face.

"That he is," Dan agreed, rocking back on his heels, barely resisting the urge to rub his hands together with glee. "I see that Brian has made it to the house. Was Honey happy to see him?"

"What do you think?" Jim replied curtly, uncaring that his response bordered on rudeness.

Dan let it roll off of him and continued, "She was ecstatic, of course. They'll make a lovely couple for the prom. I imagine Di and Mart will be by shortly?" Jim's short nod was his only answer. Dan figured he was lucky to get that. "It's all Mart's been able to talk about during the past few days. I finally had to tell Mart that if he wanted me to talk with him, he had to think of another topic. I didn't want to hear anymore about their plans for the prom." When his friend didn't answer again, Dan forced his hand. Pointing at Jim's backpack, he inquired innocently, "What's in the bag?"

Jim prayed for patience, which seemed to be an impossible feat when Dan had that amused glint to his dark eyes, and bit out, "Don't play innocent, Dan. You know what's in my backpack. You already know what my plans are for the night."

Dan slapped a hand to his forehead in feigned amazement, ignoring his friend's sarcastic reply, and the frustration that was rolling off of him in nearly tangible waves. "That's right! You're heading down to Crabapple Farm. I almost forgot. You're watching movies with Trixie tonight since she wasn't able to go the prom. Good for you. It's so nice and kind of you to help out a friend. How could I have forgotten that?"

He couldn't prevent the red flush from spreading its way across his freckled face and ignored his comment about helping out a 'friend'. "You didn't forget, Dan," he informed him, annoyed.

Dan answered smoothly, "Can't fool you." He laughed unrepentantly, watching his friend squirm with thinly veiled amusement. "You had such a great idea that Uncle Bill and I decided to copy you." He stopped talking, forcing Jim to respond again.

Jim really wanted to wipe the grin off of his friend's face but he couldn't justify the urge to punch, seriously doubting if Trixie or any of their friends would understand the extreme provocation he was being put under. "Enjoy your dinner," he stated, although the look he slashed at Dan didn't promise 'enjoyment' at all.

Dan's lips curled up, overlooking the clear dismissal with his trademark easy smile. He slid an arm around Jim's shoulder that was quickly shrugged off. "As I said earlier, I finally got Mart to talk about something besides Di and the prom. He talked to me about you, Trixie and the rest of the Beldens."

He was going to have to thank Mart. Really, he was. "I'm delighted Mart was able to come up with something else to talk about."

"It was the best thing to do for his health, you understand," Dan said.

"Oh, I completely understand what you mean." He stared down at his fisted hand and glanced back at Dan's chin. "Believe me. I do."

Dan couldn't have been more pleased and chuckled again. He knew what Jim wanted to do. "I understand from Mart that you'll have the whole house to yourselves. Each and every other Belden is partaking in an exhilarating and fascinating endeavor and will not be in residence for the entire evening. Those are Mart's exact words, not mine, you know," he added in an aside, in case Jim hadn't figured that out. "We all know Mart and his love of big words. I generally prefer words of one or two syllables myself."

Jim gave up. Short of turning his back on his friend which would only be futile because he knew that Dan would follow him or sending him sprawling on the ground which was only momentarily appealing and would leave him feeling extremely guilty in the end, he let out a deep sigh. "You're not going to let this be easy for me, are you?" He lifted a single eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the answer.

"Nope," Dan replied, his black eyes twinkling with merriment. "You know me, too. I've got to find some type of enjoyment in all of the romantic goings-on that are happening around our neck of the woods right now. If Brian or Mart were standing in front of me, I wouldn't let them off the hook, either. Really, it's nothing personal. You happen to be the most convenient target right now." Leaning in closely, as if he was preparing to share a deep, dark secret, he informed him lowly, "I am an equal opportunity teaser, you understand."

"That makes me feel so much better," Jim responded wryly with a roll of his eyes.

Dan doubted his grin could get any wider and he copied Jim's pose. "In the spirit of our discussion, I'll even offer to stop by the farmhouse in awhile and see how things are going between the two of you. You never know. Either you or Trixie could get bored with the movies or may be in need of an extra person."

"I may just have to kill you if you do that," Jim answered, his voice as dry as toast, and a hint of the truth to that in his emerald eyes.

Absolutely delighted with Jim's response, not expecting anything less, Dan let out a deep, throaty laugh that filled the air around them and sent the birds nesting in the nearby trees away in a cloud of flapping, annoying twitters. Clapping his friend on the shoulder, Dan gave in as gracefully as he could. "All right, all right, Frayne. You win. I willingly give up this time. I'm throwing in the towel. Have a good night." Then he dropped his hand and started to walk away. Winking at him over his shoulder, he advised playfully, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Then he sauntered towards the stairs to his uncle's apartment, with only his whistle following him, and curious about what Jim would do if he actually attempted to stop in at the Belden homestead. Glancing over his shoulder, seeing the way Jim's body was only starting to relax after their conversation, he decided he didn't want to tempt it. He rather liked his face the way it looked.

Unsure whether to be amused or irritated, Jim abruptly turned on his heels and started down the path, thinking about the many ways he would like to torture one Daniel Mangan, should the situation ever present itself. By the time he reached the clubhouse, the male member of their club who was fast becoming his most annoying friend was the furthest thing from his mind. Instead, he was thinking about soft blonde curls, clear blue eyes, and one of the loveliest smiles he had ever seen. Whistling to himself, unconsciously copying the same tune Dan had recently used, he hurried down the path, setting a record pace. His feet moved swiftly of their own accord while he thought about Trixie. The scenery flew by, unnoticed and uncaring. It was with a great deal of surprise when he found himself at the base of the steps on the back porch of the quiet farmhouse. Taking a deep breath, understanding how Honey and Brian had felt a few minutes earlier, thankful that he didn't have an audience, he took the steps two at a time until the back door was in front of him. He caught the flash of motion through the curtains. She was inside, standing by the kitchen table, most likely setting the table spots for their dinner. Staring at her, willing her to look around, he reached up and lifted his hand to knock.