Linda O'Shea was convinced she was the luckiest young lady on the planet. She graduated all her nursing classes with honors, she was generally happy with life, and she had good friends who always supported her. But the best thing was, in a few months, she wasn't going to be an O'Shea anymore. She would become Mrs. Danny Reagan, and she couldn't be happier. Not only was he extremely kind towards her (and usually his family), but he protected her as well. Sure, it was a little hard to do while stationed in Iraq, but he made sure she was taken care of. In a family of tall people, he was considered short- even though he stood at 5'10. Linda loved Danny with all of her being, which is why she some times butted heads with her family. None of them really liked Danny; they didn't like his brashness, his impulsiveness, and they definitely didn't like how his filthy language was slowly making its way into their precious daughter's vocabulary. All those reasons and more was why Linda was dreading the dinner at her house.
Linda looked to her fiancé. He was sitting alone with a TV dinner table in front of him. "Isn't there anyway we could squeeze one more in?"
"Of course not, dear! It would completely throw off the center piece," Linda's mother stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Oh, okay," the blonde nodded, furrowing her brows. She looked to Danny again, who looked thoroughly annoyed. She looked to her food once more, "no, it's not okay." She stood up and walked into the house, her family looking at each other.
"Linda, honey, what is it that you're doing?" Her father asked, watching her set up a TV dinner table directly across from Danny's.
"Being polite." She disappeared once more, then came back with a chair. She settled the chair next to her table, then walked to the big table, explaining her thinking. "To put a person out simply because the center piece wouldn't be centered," she started airily. "Is rude and distasteful and disgusting and-and- and inhumane! So, I'm gonna be the better man, or woman, in this case."
Danny smirked, leave to Linda to address feminisms or whatever. He thought as she placed plate on the small table.
"I'm gonna be... what's the opposite of petty?" Linda wondered, grabbing her utensils and napkin.
"Greater?" Danny offered, chewing the fish... the rubbery fish.
"I'm gonna be greater, better than y'all." She slammed her utensils down, and pulled her chair out. "If you're gonna put him out, then you're gonna have to put me out, too!"
Danny smiled widely, "I bet you're gonna be a bitch in the bedroom."
"I haven't decided yet," Linda laid her napkin in her lap.
"Linda!" Mrs. O'Shea scolded.
"What? It's true!" She turned to her mother, "I don't know what kind of kinks I'm gonna have! Spanking, domineering, leather, submission, those weirdo Daddy issue things... bondage. I have no idea!"
"Twenty bucks says spanking," the recent detective challenged.
"I see your twenty bucks and raise you an experiment for each element of bdsm." Linda and Danny often dealt with bets in poker lingo. It had been a cute little thing started in high school that stuck with them.
"Linda, it's not appropriate to talk about that stuff at the table." Mrs. O'Shea scolded.
"And it's not polite to put someone out because you don't like them. And, yes, I know the center piece crap is complete bullshit. You could've easily moved the center piece."
"It's gonna be fun exploring," Danny smirked, Linda mirroring the lopsided grin.
"I don't care what you say, I'm in love with him. And I'm gonna marry him in twenty five days, three hours, eighteen minutes, and fifty two seconds."
"Impressive," he raised his glass.
"Thank you," smirking once more, she clinked it with hers. She absolutely knew she was going to love her life as a Reagan.
