Disclaimer: I don't own anything here (except for Al) and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.

Author's Note: Thanks for your patience and for hanging in there with this story. I know it's a bit slow and I can see now it's more like a two-part story. So we're still in the first part.

And I know, something major (like the accident mentioned in the summary) probably should have happened by now, but I do these things to practice plotting and I'm still finding my feet. Plus, I really love these characters and it kills me to make bad things happen to them. (I know, then I need to stop writing angst, right? But angst is interesting and has all sorts of character development implications.)

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By the time the evening reception rolled around, Tim was ready to be done with the wedding. The ceremony was fine, the first hour of taking pictures was fine, the next three hours of taking pictures was progressively less fine, and the final straw was the couple of hours spent with Jason and Lyla's extended families before the reception. It was like a never-ending cocktail party, requiring lots of polite small talk and not nearly enough alcohol to make it bearable.

It would have been better if Al had come along, but she politely turned down Lyla's invitation. She didn't want to spend any more time dressed up and chatting with strangers than absolutely necessary.

When the bridal party arrived at the country club, the pre-dinner drinks reception was in full swing in the front room. Tim excused himself from Lyla's sister Tabby, the maid of honor, and wound his way through the room, searching for Al. He found her on the edge of the party, standing next to an open window, with Herc and Billy. She looked up and smiled as she watched him take in her dress, which was black, had a loose, flowing skirt, and showed off a good bit of cleavage.

When he took her hand and kissed her cheek, her skin felt unbearably warm.

"Are you okay? You feel like you're burning up." He couldn't help the concern, even though he knew it would cause Herc to roll his eyes and make smart-ass remarks.

"I'm fine, Timmy. It's just hot and crowded in here. It'll be better when we move into the dining room."

"Really, Al, I think you should sit down."

"Timmy, I'm pregnant, not crippled....no offense, Herc."

"Hey, none taken," said Herc with a wave of his hand. "You can sit down right here."

"Ha. Funny, but I haven't had all my shots yet. Who knows what I could catch from you," said Al.

"The only thing a lady ever catches from me is a good time, I assure you."

Al slipped her arm around Tim's waist. Tim rubbed her back and appreciated her dress some more, especially since the low-cut back gave him plenty of bare skin.

"So, Al, just how pregnant are you now? 10 months? I'm telling you, girl, you look ready to pop," said Herc.

"Wow. I didn't know you could count to 10. Congratulations." Al rolled her eyes.

"I heard it really hurts, and that's when the woman isn't some teeny tiny little -"

"That's enough, Herc," said Tim through clenched teeth.

"I'm only messin' with her, she knows that, don't you, Al?" asked Herc, turning on his smarmiest smile.

"Kids, enough," said Billy. "I haven't had enough beer yet to listen to that sort of sniping."

Billy was spared any more squabbling as the white-coated waiters moved through the room, ushering the guests into the dining room. Tim walked with Al to her assigned seat and pulled out her chair for her, helping her get settled at the table. Lyla had put Al and Billy at Buddy's table, between Principal Taylor and Buddy's girlfriend, a big-haired blonde woman who wore way too much make-up and had a laugh that sounded like breaking glass.

Tim was about to walk away when Al grabbed his tie and pulled him down so he was eye-to-eye with her.

"You can do this, Timmy. I know you can."

He smiled. She'd helped him with the speech by finding examples online and giving him a formula to follow, but he'd written it himself. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips and resisted the urge to tousle her hair.

Tim greeted Coach and his wife, said good-bye to Billy and then took his place at the head table, between Jason and Buddy Junior. The dinner seemed interminably long. The food may have been good, but Tim could barely taste it. He listened as Buddy Junior babbled about European soccer. Tim tried to nod in the right places, but mostly he just let the words wash over him.

Al's table was maybe forty feet away and Tim had a good view of her. She seemed to be having a great time, alternating between talking to Tami and Billy. Tim knew he was going to owe Billy big-time for sitting through a wedding, dressed up in his best suit. It was worth it though, knowing that Al had had someone to keep her company all day and look after her.

Finally, it was time for the speeches. Buddy went first, but Tim barely heard him. He did hear all the laughs Buddy was getting, which just increased his anxiety level. Jason's dad gave a short speech, then Jason, and finally, it was the moment Tim had been dreading ever since Six had asked him to be his Best Man.

He wiped his hands on his pants and then stood up, taking the microphone from Jason. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out his speech, short enough to fit on a single sheet of paper. Tim took a deep breath and looked at Al, who was smiling encouragingly and mouthing something that looked like "you can do this."

"Evening....as Best Man, it's my job to say a few words about the groom, Jay Six, and his lovely bride, Garrity," said Tim, pausing to look up at Al, who had grabbed Billy's hand and put it on her belly. Tim smiled to himself, knowing that the baby was kicking and that Al was very particular about who touched her. She really had accepted Billy as her eighth brother.

"If you've ever been to a Panther roast, then you know that public speakin' isn't really my thing. So the fact that Six and Lyla have entrusted me with this responsibility, well, it means a lot to me and I don't want to let them down.

"I guess I'm supposed to tell y'all how we met, but, being as how this is Dillon, y'all already know that. In fact, you probably know most of our stories, which is good, that'll make this speech way shorter."

Tim grinned as people laughed and thought for the first time that Al was right, he could do this.

"Truth is, I can't remember a time when I didn't know Jay. And I also can't remember a time when Jay didn't like Lyla. Even in first grade, when it was definitely not cool to like girls, being as how they were the prime carriers of cooties and whatnot, Six still had a place in his heart for Garrity. He's the only kid I've ever known who would give up his chocolate milk for a girl and if that's not love when you're six years old, then I don't know what is.

"Few people in life get thrown the curveball that came Six's way and I don't know anyone would could have handled it with the grace and strength that Jay has. Knocked it out of the park would be an understatement." He paused to look at his best friend, who was looking down with blushing cheeks.

"My wife's grandmother used to say that even the twistiest road will get you where you're going, eventually. And it was a twisty road that brought Six and Garrity through high school and out into the world, on separate paths. But eventually, they came back here and came back together. And now....now they'll be the way they were meant to be: married and together for the rest of their lives." Tim took a small step sideways so he could see both Jason and Lyla as he finished his speech.

"Here's the part where I'm supposed to give you some advice on being married. Truth is, the best advice is to pick the right one, so you're both in good shape there. As long as you have each other, then everything else will fall into place.

"Best of luck. To Six and Lyla." Tim raised his glass, the rest of the room following suit and just like that, the speech was over and he could enjoy the rest of the evening.

After the speeches, the focus shifted to the dance floor at the back of the room, where the band was setting up. Jay reached over and shook his hand.

"Thanks, man, that was perfect. You're dismissed now, go spend the rest of the evening with your lovely wife."

"Thanks, Six. You too," replied Tim with a smile.

Tim went over to Buddy's table, but Al was gone, so he sat in her seat. He looked a question at Billy.

"She's seven and a half months pregnant. Where do you think she is?" asked Billy.

Tim looked down and smiled. Al had three complaints about being pregnant. One, she had to go to the bathroom every five minutes. Two, she couldn't sleep on her stomach. And three, the baby loved to hook his little toes into her ribs, which was apparently damn uncomfortable.

"Thanks for this, Billy I've been released, pretty much, so you can go anytime."

"No problem," said Billy as he stood up, clapping Tim on the back. "You guys going to be in late tomorrow?"

Tim groaned. He'd forgotten that tomorrow was a "school day," as Al liked to call them.

"I'm just messing," grinned Billy. "Take the day off. It's going to be light one and I've got D'Andre coming in anyway."

Tim remembered that Al had recommended D'Andre, a graduate of the garage's internship program, to cover for her while she was on maternity leave.

"Thanks, Billy. And thanks for today."

"No problem, Little Brother. Now, I better get back to Mindy before she starts to think I'm having a good time or something."

Tim chatted with Coach and Mrs. Taylor while he waited for Al to return from the bathroom. The first dance came and went with no sign of her. Tim was starting to get worried and was about to send Mrs. Taylor on a search mission when Al finally arrived. The Taylors excused themselves to dance and Tim pulled Al into his lap.

"Sorry, I got cornered by Lyla's stepfather, who wanted to talk to me about a tremendous business opportunity – something about conversion kits that can make cars run on used cooking oil."

"For real?"

"Yeah for real. Like that's gonna fly in West Texas." Al laughed and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Billy gave us the day off tomorrow."

"Good. I want to go to Midland and look for a replacement for my truck."

"Not a minivan. Anything but a minivan."

"No, I was thinking about a station wagon. A nice boxy Volvo. Hey, does anyone still make 'em with wood-paneled sides?" she teased.

"I hope not. You feel up to dancing?"

"Actually, I feel like stepping outside and getting a bit of air." Al slipped off his lap and held out her hand.

"A bit of air sounds good to me," he said, letting her lead the way out. A bit of air, a bit of space, a bit of peace, all those things sounded good to him right then.