A/N: Sorry for the wait, guys. I was pretty busy finishing up classes and GRADUATING this weekend. Yeah. No big deal. Except it totally is. MSW Degree, you are officially my bitch.

Some of you have been asking about what my plans are after this story. I'm hoping to continue on and turn it into a trilogy, but we shall see. I'd like your input on what you would like Part III to entail. Send me your ideas and suggestions!

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 17

"Another hundo down," Holmes announced somberly as he approached Toby with a fresh Budweiser, handing it off to him.

"Are you joking?" Toby demanded, incredulity dripping from his voice like syrup. "Aria is going to kill me. And you know what that means, don't you?"

"You'll have Spencer to answer to," Holmes quipped with immaculate accuracy, tipping back his bottle. He and Toby stood side-by-side, mutually gazing in Ezra's direction. He had been downing one rum and coke after another, and subsequently had been at the poker table for far longer than any ex-gambling addict would recommend. Nothing the boys had done so far had been able to convince him otherwise.

"He has a great hand this time, though," Jason announced, hopping down the stairs from the poker platform to join Holmes and Toby. "I peeked over his shoulder. Pocket aces. He's all in."

"What?" Toby demanded. "All in? How much is all in?"

"A grand," Jason said, jerking his chin towards the table. "Your friend Lancaster helped him buy back in."

"I'm going to kill him," Toby growled. "Where did he go?"

"Black jack," Jason replied, sipping on his beer. "Said he had a good feeling about it."

Holmes rolled his eyes melodramatically, elbowing Toby gently in the rib cage. "We never should have brought him." He knew that he meant Lancaster. "You remember that time in Toronto, don't you?"

"How could I forget?" Toby stated sarcastically. "We tried calling him all night…just to find him naked in the middle of the street as the sun was coming up."

Jason was looking at the two, perplexed. Holmes filled in the gaps for him briefly.

"He bet every dime he had in a game…and on the last hand, which he was positive was a sure thing, bet his clothes and his iPhone."

Jason chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "The things some people will do for the thrill of the gamble…"

"Seriously. Even betting away all the money you saved up to buy a house with your girlfriend," Toby muttered irritably, gesturing to Ezra.

"He looks terrified," Jason said earnestly. It was true. There were drops of perspiration appearing quickly on Ezra's forehead, and his hands appeared to be shuddering without resolve. His eyes were shifting back and forth between the chips in the center of the table and the dealer, looking entirely too paranoid for his own good.

The dealer completed the river. A brief smirk flitted across Ezra's face for but a moment, before returning to the nervous fear of before.

"He might have it," Holmes mumbled. The three watched in fascination, mentally crossing their fingers. They knew that if they ever allowed Ezra to leave the casino naked, as had happened to Lancaster a year ago, the girls would never forgive them. Toby thought momentarily of Spencer calling off the entire wedding, lecturing him about irresponsibility and not preventing a friend from making a mistake. How can I trust you to be a good father – to watch our kids – when you can't even keep a decent eye on Ezra? Yeah. She would most certainly turn this into a prediction of future parenthood. It was the way she operated. She would blame Jason, as well, for her expectations for his behavior were far higher now that they had begun to develop a brother-sister relationship of sorts.

And Holmes? He would just be plain old screwed. Hanna would probably never speak to him again.

Toby knew how extreme the repercussions sounded in his head, but he also was beginning to understand the unfaltering loyalty that females provided one another. It was like that time in middle school when Alison DiLaurentis slipped pornographic magazines into Noel Kahn's locker on inspection day, simply because he had made fun of Aria's pink hair. He had gotten two weeks of detention for violating the school's code of conduct. Girls would sink to deep, devilish levels to protect their kind. And it was quite frankly the most terrifying form of camaraderie in the known universe.

And suddenly, Ezra was on his feet, hooting and hollering. He was pulling the pile of poker chips in towards his chest, oblivious to the men around him tossing their cards furiously onto the table. Toby and the others were behind him in a flash.

"I won!" Ezra cried enthusiastically, turning to his companions. "I just won four grand!"

"Are you serious?" Holmes demanded, reaching out to shuffle some of the winning chips between his fingers, as if they were made of gold.

"I fucking won!" Ezra declared, shocking Toby momentarily with his uncharacteristic curse.

"All right, Richie Rich," Toby began cautiously, assisting Ezra in collecting his handfuls of tokens. "Let's go cash this in and head home, all right?"

"Are you joking?" Ezra demanded hysterically. Toby could not help but be slightly amused at the sight of his old English teacher drunk beyond recognition, hovering over the poker table like a vulture. Somehow the professional portrayal of sophistication and dignity had dissipated throughout the night. "I'm on a roll!"

"Don't even think about it," Jason agreed, swiping the sack of tokens from Ezra's grip. "You just won a shit ton of money, which is pretty much unheard of in casinos. They're all rigged, you know. The odds of winning are lower than people think. That's why they crank the heat up to add to the adrenaline rush, and sell alcoholic beverages for a dollar. It's all very calculated." Jason turned his eyes to the dealer, who was shooting daggers in his direction. "I mean…no offense."

"What he means to say is, you're done," Holmes reasoned. Jason and Toby each took hold of one of Ezra's arms, leading him in the general direction of the cashier. In his drunken daze, he wasn't quite able to resist. He merely muttered incoherently under his breath.

"…Can't take a man away when he's on a heater…that's like waking a sleepwalker…can't do it…can't…"

"Would you listen to him?" Holmes chuckled, following close behind on one crutch. He had been able to retire the other one a few days prior. "Something gives me the impression this isn't his first time losing his shit at the casino."

Toby rolled his eyes good-naturedly, marveling at the continued amusement he was experiencing. There was something quite ironic about the fact that he was escorting an immensely inebriated version of an ex-teacher out of a casino, lecturing him about the dangers of gambling.

"…Need all the money I can get. So important. Sooooo…soooo important," Ezra continued to mumble, his head lolling off to one shoulder. "Have to buy the princess cut ring with the diamond chips…her favorite…can't propose with just anything…"

Jason unexpectedly let go, causing an unbalanced Ezra to stumble all of his weight into Toby. The young soldier only barely caught him.

"You're proposing?" Jason demanded. Toby was suddenly uncomfortably aware of the fact that Jason and Aria had not broken up very long ago. Though her break with Ezra only lasted a short while, Jason had undoubtedly fallen head over heels for her in that time frame. And had not had those feelings reciprocated.

Ezra was giggling uncontrollably. Evidently, standing up and moving had caused the buzz to kick in tenfold.

"Jason, it's not the time," Toby growled, slinging one arm around Ezra's middle and using the other to hold fast to his elbow. He was having difficulty keeping him upright on his own.

Jason squared his jaw in disapproval, but nonetheless reached out to dejectedly resume his position of assisting Toby. Lancaster was approaching, as well, looking particularly pleased with the wad of twenties in his palm.

"I told you I had a good feeling about the black jack table," he told Jason mockingly. He glanced to Ezra. "Oh. Whoa. Looks like the captain had a little too much Captain."

"Drink responsibly – Captain's orders!" Ezra quoted, repeating the slogan from the commercial, and offering a half-hearted salute. He then began to guffaw hysterically.

"We need to get him back," Holmes muttered darkly. "Preferably sober."

"We'll stop for coffee," Jason quipped sincerely, apparently attempting to atone for his earlier frustration. "Then we'll get him back to his and Aria's hotel."

"Sounds like a plan," Toby agreed. "C'mon, Lancaster…help us out."

"What do you want me to do?" Lancaster demanded sarcastically, gesturing to the two boys on either arm. "Grab his feet?"

"Just get the door," Toby insisted sourly.

The limo ride from the casino to Denny's was a bit of an adventure. And not the sort that you go to Disney World for – it was the kind that you embark on when your wife gives birth to triplets. Complete, utter frustration and an inability to control a person's bodily functions. Ezra had stuck his head through the moon roof, hollering wildly at the city streets. After a while, the boys had given up trying to coax him back in. If he got smacked with a low-grown tree branch, it would be his own damn fault.

By the time they got the restaurant, he was considerably more sober. At least, in the strictest sense of the word. He had stopped shouting obscenities at strangers, at least. Now, he was just reduced to a stumbling, confused mess.

"Sit down," Toby declared brashly, practically throwing Ezra into the booth. "We're going to get you some coffee."

When the waitress came by, all five of them requested the very same beverage, beginning to feel the night catching up with them. Lancaster was rubbing his temples and muttering to himself, attempting to pre-emptively chant away a hangover. The waitress brought the coffee to the table, and the delightful smell traveled immediately into Toby's nose.

"You need to drink this," he stated as he set a mug purposefully in front of Ezra. Ezra scowled down at it.

"What's in it?"

"…Coffee beans," Toby replied, bemused. He reached across the table for the sweeteners. "You want sugar?"

"I don't want the Sweet 'N Low shit," Ezra muttered melodramatically, pulling the pink packets out of the container and tossing them uselessly over his shoulder. "I want real sugar."

"Okay, okay!" Holmes said impatiently, staying his hand from throwing anything else. "Real sugar, Cavanaugh. Get the man real sugar."

"This guy's a mess," Lancaster observed as he sipped on his own coffee. He sighed happily as the warmth coursed through his veins. "Where did you say you picked him up from?"

"Just some random high school we found on the way to the casino," Jason said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "We already told you. He taught in Rosewood."

"Oh, same thing," Lancaster said dismissively. Toby remembered how irritable he got when he was coming down from a buzz.

"All right, here's the game plan," Holmes announced. Judging by the brevity in his voice, Toby would have thought they were intending to prepare for some Oceans Eleven type heist. He began to explain the various ways in which they would have to cover their asses from the girls – omitting Ezra's carelessness, primarily. Toby drifted off precariously as he glanced over Holmes's shoulder, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach.

"Caleb," he muttered.

"Caleb Rivers, B+!" Ezra slurred.

"No – I mean – it's Caleb," Toby said pointedly through gritted teeth, gesturing over Holmes's shoulder. Holmes whipped around to face his direction.

"What the hell is he doing here?" he asked moodily.

"Oh, God," Toby declared sheepishly, burying his face in his hands. Holmes eyed him suspiciously.

"What? What is it?"

"We invited him to the wedding, man…before him and Hanna broke up."

Holmes squared his jaw immediately, attempting to maintain his cool. He was blatantly ignoring Ezra next to him, pouring salt into his coffee mug.

"You're kidding."

Before Toby could formulate a reply, Caleb was walking towards them. He sat up straight in preparation for the encounter, silently willing Holmes to keep composed.

"Hey, guys," Caleb greeted amiably, clapping a hand on Toby's shoulder. "Bachelor party?"

"Something like that," Jason agreed with a half-hearted smile, jerking a thumb in Ezra's direction. "Jack Sparrow here can't hold his liquor, so we had to duck out early."

"Not exactly the night we had planned," Toby laughed. He was purposely avoiding Holmes's eyes, but saw from his peripherals that he was squeezing his coffee mug far more tightly than necessary.

"Sorry to hear it," Caleb chuckled. He squinted his brow ever-so-slightly and lowered his voice to Toby. "So…hey…how's Hanna doing?"

"She's good," Toby replied, attempting to repress his panic. Holmes had been drinking tonight, and was more prone to being outspoken when he had liquor in his veins. He was praying that he would keep quiet.

"Good," Caleb breathed. "I mean…I've been thinking about her a lot, man."

"Uh huh," Toby replied uncertainly. He jutted out a foot towards Holmes's good shin beneath the table, pushing on it to signal a warning.

"Does she have a date? Do you know?"

Holmes cleared his throat distinctively. Toby reeled back his foot to plant a swift kick in the same shin. Pain registered on Holmes's face, but he said nothing.

Caleb was looking from Toby to Holmes, and Toby could see that he was rapidly putting the pieces of the puzzle together in his brain.

"Oh. I see," he mumbled. He didn't look pleased. Toby couldn't necessarily blame him…he had been annoyed at Hanna living with Holmes, and, despite her insistence that they were 'just friends,' hadn't been able to help his jealously.

"Hey…Caleb…c'mon," Toby began to plead. Caleb shook his head sharply.

"No. It's fine," he muttered. "I get it. She's dating the guy that she always told me wasn't a threat. It's crystal clear."

Holmes had gone from looking angry to incredibly guilty. He winced apologetically in Caleb's direction. "Dude…look…"

"I understand," Caleb continued, his voice devoid of any emotion. "She's easy to fall in love with."

Holmes said nothing in response.

"Listen, I'll see you guys on Saturday," Caleb decided at last. As he began to walk away, Ezra called out to him.

"Mr. Rivers! I'll need your essay on my desk by 10 A.M.!"

Caleb paused for a moment before glancing at Toby for answers. "Is…is that Mr. Fitz?"

"Yeah," Toby sighed heavily. "Ignore him."

"Already done," Caleb confirmed. He proceeded to retreat from the vicinity, and Toby watched as he left through the front door.

"Great," he muttered, shooting Holmes another look of annoyance. "You just couldn't resist, could you?"

"What? Me?" Holmes cried indignantly. "He was the one who came up here, talking all about how he wants Hanna back!"

"He never said that!" Toby insisted, his patience thinning more by the second. "He said he was thinking about her! That's what people do! THEY THINK ABOUT THEIR EXES SOMETIMES!"

"But she's not just his ex, she's my girlfriend!" Holmes argued.

"Look. Forget it. Forget it!" Toby shouted, fishing into his wallet. He tossed a wad of cash onto the table. "I've had it with tonight. I'm done. You guys take the limo. I'm getting a cab."

And with that, he began to stomp away from the table. He half expected someone to stop him, but nobody tried. Perhaps he was a Groomzilla by association to Spencer's own neuroticism, and they were feeling content to let him have a hissy fit or two before his wedding day. Good. He preferred it that way. To be left alone.

He sulked the entire cab ride home, fuming as he thought about everybody's behavior. Ezra, getting plastered and acting like an irresponsible teenager. Lancaster enabling it and disappearing for half the night. Jason getting his panties in a twist over Aria and Ezra. And Holmes…he had expected better from him. What the fuck was that about? Getting like that with Caleb? All…possessive?

It was bullshit. All of it. And his bachelor party was going down in the books as one of the most frustrating nights of his life.

As he traipsed up the stairs of the house to his bedroom, he began wondering if Spencer's night was any better. He hoped so. She had been so stressed out…she deserved to have a night of fun. Out with her girls.

He opened the door and saw her sprawled on the bed, still in her party dress and tiara. She hadn't even bothered to pull the covers back, evidently having collapsed in a drunken, exhausted heap before being able to.

He sat beside her and gently brushed her jawline with his fingertips, brushing a piece of stray hair behind her ear before setting her tiara aside on the night stand. She stirred slightly.

"Toby?" she murmured without opening her eyes. She sighed contentedly. "Come to bed."

"All right," he whispered, adjusting her slightly so that he could pull the blankets over both of them. Half asleep, she curled into him immediately, resting a hand on his chest. The comfort that he gleaned from this made him calm down considerably, and he wrapped both arms tightly around her.

So it wasn't the greatest night in the world…in a couple of days, he wouldn't even be thinking twice about it. The happiness that he gained from Spencer had a knack for making everything else seem superficial and meaningless, including his horrible mood. He leaned in gently to plant a kiss on the top of her head.

"I love you," he murmured. Despite her lack of consciousness, she replied.

"Love you." It was slurry and nigh incomprehensible, but it was there nonetheless. He smiled at the thought that she could reply to this even in her sleep.

He tucked his cheek into her crown and closed his eyes, allowing a slow meditation to continue carrying him into relaxation. As he counted down from one thousand, he began to release his anger and discomfort from earlier in the evening. It wouldn't matter by Saturday. Or even tomorrow, probably. It wasn't worth fussing over.

It was one of the things he loved most about her, really. The silent ability to relax his entire being into a state of submission. It was hard to feel anything truly negative when she was in his arms. Pretty impossible, actually.

And as he drifted off to sleep, he came to the realization that he was easily the luckiest man in the entire world.