A/N: It begins! I know you are all waiting anxiously (hopefully) for the wedding chapter. I planned for it to be included here, but as I began typing away, I found that it already included loads of heart-felt moments on its own. Ending it where I did felt right. No worries, though - the time will come soon enough!

xoxo!

CHAPTER 18

The night before had been torture, as far as Spencer Hastings was concerned. It was bad luck for the bride and groom to spend the eve of their wedding together, and Spencer was no stranger to bizarre superstition. But saying good-bye to Toby and Holmes – who would be spending the night in a hotel – for the last time before she would see him at the end of the aisle…well, that was horrifying.

"You need to sit still if you want this to turn out," Melissa chastised irritably, taking Spencer's chin and yanking it back in her direction. "Unless you want your eye makeup to be mismatched. If that's the case, I'm sure it can be arranged."

"Sorry," Spencer murmured distantly. Melissa cocked an eyebrow at her.

"What? No witty retort?"

Spencer scoffed. "Believe me, Melissa. Any other day, I would want nothing more than to find some clever comeback. But right now, I don't have the energy for it."

They were in the dressing room of the church, getting prepared for the ceremony that would start in less than an hour. And though the dressing room was plenty spacious, Spencer was beginning to feel rather claustrophobic. And Melissa's venomous personality wasn't helping matters.

"Spence," she began slowly with a dejected sigh. "There's no reason to be so nervous."

"I'm not nervous," Spencer spat, perhaps a little too quickly. Melissa chuckled as she continued outlining Spencer's brown eyes with black pencil.

"Right."

Spencer was only vaguely aware of the fact that her mother was double and triple checking Hanna, Aria, and Emily on the other side of the room. Probably ensuring that nobody had any unseemly pimples or runs in their stockings. She silently hoped that Hanna would be able to maintain her composure. After all, she wasn't terribly fond of being ordered around or inspected down to her last toenail.

Today was her wedding day. Her wedding day. And try as she might to accept this very quintessential moment, she was having difficulty. Wonderful things – lovely things – often had a bad habit of evading her entirely. It was hard to let herself get her hopes up. With her damned luck, Toby was in the process of devising a clever escape route at that very moment. Not that she would blame him. She couldn't imagine, if she were in his shoes, why he would want to marry her. She was constantly saying and doing the wrong things. Unwelcomingly correcting people's haphazard grammar and inordinate social faux pas. Striving unreasonably for perfection, unwittingly stepping on anyone who got in her way…reaching blindly for her ambitions, not considering the impact it might have on those she loved. Hell, she had treated him like horse shit the entire week, simply because her nerves were shot skyward as she fine-tuned every last matrimonial detail. How could anybody but a saint put up with her neurosis?

The answer was, somehow, simple. He was a saint.

Her eyes were drawn back to the face that floated in front of her. Melissa was in deep concentration, her brow furrowed as she meticulously applied Spencer's makeup. She dismissively puffed a bothersome hair from her peripherals as she continued to work. Spencer felt a sudden balloon of guilt rise in her chest. Her older sister – a single mother – widowed at the age of 22.

"Melissa?" Spencer began quietly.

"Mmm?" Melissa responded. She was clearly distracted.

"Are you happy for me?"

Melissa paused, leaning back to assess the expression on Spencer's face. She seemed to be undergoing some internal struggle, but at last responded.

"Of course I am, Peanut," she declared. Spencer felt tears prick the corners of her eyes at the sound of the nickname she hadn't heard in years. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," Spencer murmured. "I guess…just…what happened with Ian…"

Melissa pursed her lips tightly, her face growing dark. She seemed to be carefully selecting her words.

"What happened with Ian was tragic," she decided at last, capping the eye pencil and setting it aside. "But it doesn't mean our lives should completely stop. And it certainly doesn't mean that I can't enjoy my own sister's wedding."

Spencer smiled sadly. While she was at it, she had another pressing question.

"Do you like Toby?" she fished desperately. This time Melissa scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"What's this about, Spence?"

"You always said such nasty things about him," Spencer continued, stumbling over her words. "You said that me dating him was a disgrace to the Hastings name."

Melissa thoughtfully began applying Spencer's eye shadow, taking a moment to respond. "I said a lot of things I didn't mean," she stated simply.

"But you haven't answered me yet," Spencer pressed. "Do you like him or not?"

Melissa shook her head impatiently. "It's really not a fair question to ask, Spencer. I don't really know him. You never really brought him around the house. I mean, I understand why…with Mom and Dad being the way they were…but how can I answer a question like that without having any information to make a decision from?"

Spencer swallowed a lump in her throat. She was right. In fact, had Melissa and Toby ever spoken to one another?

"But," Melissa proceeded heavily, "I like seeing you happy. And if he makes you happy, then there's no room to argue."

Cryptic as this response was, it was satisfying enough.

"All right – all done," Melissa declared, setting aside the tube of mascara. She lifted a hand mirror to Spencer, so that she could admire the work done.

Spencer's breath caught in her throat. After years of doing her own makeup, she would have expected her face to look like it did on any other day. However, Melissa had taken a totally different approach. And as vain as she felt for thinking it, Spencer had to admit – she looked stunning.

"Good?"

"I love it," Spencer breathed.

Melissa beamed proudly in reply, clutching one of Spencer's hands in her own. "You're going to look so beautiful today, Spencer."

It took all the willpower Spencer could muster to prevent her bottom lip from trembling.

"All right, now that we've passed inspection with the FBI…" Hanna began glumly, jerking her gaze pointedly in the direction of Veronica Hastings, "we can start getting you into your gown."

"We have precisely 39 minutes," Veronica announced. "Let's hustle."

Spencer stood from her seat and made her way to the ornate full-length mirror at the other end of the room. In its reflection she saw herself, hair and makeup immaculate, dressed simply in a slip and bustiere. She was a single woman now, but in an hour or so, she would be a wife. Where had the time gone? It seemed like only yesterday that Emily was conducting her fifth grade wedding to Bobby Benson on the playground after lunch. Their marriage had lasted all of twenty minutes, until she caught him sharing his Snack Pack with Susie Hoffmeyer.

Her bridesmaids all looked breathtaking. All four of them were dressed delicately in blood-red gowns that reached the floor. Because of the chill that still persisted in the outside air, they had opted for half-sleeves that began off-the-shoulder. Their hair was pulled into elegant French twists to match the sophisticated ensemble. She looked fondly upon each of them, silently grateful for the fact that she had such dear friends beside her on such a momentous day.

"Up," Melissa commanded. Spencer raised her arms high above her head without hesitation as her clan began to lower the full-skirted dress down over her. She kept her eyes closed, deciding she didn't want to see herself until she was a finished product. Through quiet bantering between the women in the room, the laces of her bodice were tightened and tied away, and her ballroom skirt was fluffed out and shaped. Lastly, she could feel someone delicately placing her veil into the mess of curls atop her head.

A sudden sob was all it took. She knew she was finished.

She opened her eyes and was stunned by her own beauty. She had never been very vein when it came to her appearance, but was suddenly quite pleased with the way she looked. She was beautiful. And it was perfect.

It was Aria who was crying. Melissa was shooing her away from the mirror. "Stop it this instant! I don't want to re-do your makeup!"

Veronica caressed Spencer's forearms and leaned over from behind, resting her chin lovingly on her daughter's shoulder. "You look exquisite, dear."

Spencer grinned. She couldn't help herself. She wasn't sure her mother had ever complimented her beauty before today.

"Do you have all four of your good luck pieces?" Melissa demanded, returning to her side. Spencer took only a moment to interpret this.

"Something old…Nana's pearls," she confirmed, touching them at her collar bone. "Something new – well, the dress and the veil, obviously. Something borrowed, mom's wedding shoes…and something blue – " she blushed a bit – "my garter."

"I'll bet that boy can't wait to take it off," Veronica mused, sipping on her champagne. It wasn't even 5 o'clock in the afternoon and she was already in a state of lush.

"Mom!" Spencer berated indignantly, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. In spite of herself, she laughed.

"Oh, let's not pretend that you're going to be a virgin forever," Mrs. Hastings continued, waving her hand dismissively. Oh. Right. As far as she knew, Spencer was still a virgin. Check. Not shattering that dream today.

Hanna snorted. Spencer shot her a pointed look. Her mom didn't appear to notice.

"All right ladies," Veronica began, uncorking the champagne bottle. "Let's have one last toast before we get this show on the road."

"What do you mean the vest doesn't fit?" Holmes growled in undertones to Lancaster, who was fidgeting desperately with extra room in his ensemble.

"I mean," he began pointedly, "that it's three sizes too big." As if to prove it, he pulled one side of the vest away from his body. "You could fit two of me in here."

"Haven't you tried it on at all before today?"

"Why would I do that?" Lancaster cried indignantly. "I mean – you'd think a tux store would actually pay attention to your fitting measurements, right?"

Holmes muttered to himself, stealing a glance over his shoulder. Toby seemed occupied for the moment, between his dad's hearty claps on the shoulder and Ezra and Jason's victory shots of bourbon. He purposefully tossed his single crutch aside in preparation. After all, he had been able to handle short amounts of time without it.

"All right, here's what we're going to do," Holmes began, fishing into his breast pocket. He unearthed four safety pins, and began working at once to tighten the vest around Lancaster's frame.

"Well, hello, Martha Stewart. Had no idea you were invited," Lancaster quipped jokingly. Holmes may have non-accidentally poked him with the safety pin in reply. "Ow!"

"Shit, my bad."

"What else do you have up your sleeves today, Holmesy?" Lancaster chuckled. "Nail polish? Lipstick? Extra tampons, maybe?"

Holmes rolled his eyes, stepping back to admire his work. The vest now looked somewhat lopsided, but it would have to do. It would be covered by the jacket, anyway.

"Why? Did you start your period early?" he chided.

"Ha, ha, ha," Lancaster mused in response. Holmes pulled the coat over his friend and buttoned it appropriately, brushing extra lint from the cuffs. Lancaster looked down at himself then back to Holmes for approval. "Well?"

"I think we pass, man."

"Pass what?" Toby asked as he approached them from behind. Holmes offered an innocent grin.

"Getting you ready on time, bro. You look handsome, if I do say so myself. Brad Pitt, eat your heart out."

Toby rolled his eyes. "Oh, stop, you're making me blush," he joked.

"I'll be surprised if Spencer can keep her hands off you before you get to your honeymoon suite," Holmes continued. "You are one good-looking man, my friend."

"Jesus Christ, are you guys sure you didn't mean to invite me to a commitment ceremony for the two of you?" Lancaster demanded sardonically.

Toby grinned. "Dude, jealousy is a bad shade on you."

Lancaster rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"Dude," Holmes started, studying the traveling hands on his watch. "You're getting married in ten minutes."

Toby sucked in a deep breath and let it out with a loud whoosh. Holmes gave him an encouraging pat on the back.

"Any last words?" Ezra asked laughingly as he and Jason approached. Toby only grinned in reply.

"You guys can only hope to be as lucky someday," he offered. Holmes was aware that he was only half-kidding.

"Save it for the toast," Jason quipped. "Don't spoil the ending."

"Not much to spoil," Holmes jeered, though his sincerity shined through like an early dawn. "We already know how this one turns out."

"It was always meant to be, you know?" Ezra said, a hint of dream-like quality in his voice as he slung an arm around Toby's shoulders. "From the first time I ever saw you two kissing in the hallway. You know…when I had to break it up because of school policy."

Toby chuckled at the memory. "Yeah, only to find out that you were having some illicit rendezvouses of your own."

Ezra flushed slightly, delivering a friendly punch to Toby's shoulder. Jason was laughing, too, evidently having moved passed the jealousy from the night at the casino.

"Listen…guys…" Toby began seriously. "I'm really glad all of you are here today. I couldn't have done it without you."

"What is this, a Nicholas Sparks movie?" Jason teased, shaking Toby by the shoulders as if to loosen him up. "Don't get mushy on us, man."

"I'm not sure who should be more embarrassed right now," Holmes started, "Toby, or you for knowing the name Nicholas Sparks."

The five of them shared a laugh once more. It was refreshing, in a lot of ways. All of the stress from the weeks prior had culminated in this – a wedding day fit for royalty, each of them surrounded by close friends and confidantes. Holmes was distantly aware that this would be his last chance to laugh with Toby as a single man. This didn't bother him, however – he knew that their friendship was only just beginning. Marriage would change some of Toby's priorities, but there were infinitely more things that would remain exactly the same. They would have thousands more jokes, whether he was married or not.

Their mirth was interrupted only by Toby's dad entering the room.

"Son," he started enthusiastically, "it's time."