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Description
21. Vacation

The sun was too bright as it cut through a slit in the curtains, and Danny rolled over with a groan. His head was pounding and he had a crick in his neck from the lack of pillow under head, but he did seem to still be alive. The last thing he could remember was Tucker and Valerie and Sam and… Oh. A very large bottle of some type of liquor. That would certainly explain why his tongue tasted like something had died on it. Ten years ago.

“Right,” he said, perilously close to a whimper until he shifted a little to the left to get his eyes out of the direct line of sunlight.

“Get off me,” an annoyed voice said from nearly beneath him, and Danny shot upright as he realized he wasn’t alone in the bed.

Oh god, he thought. I didn’t sleep with Valerie, did I? Or worse, someone I don’t know… Sam’s going to kill me when she finds out.

“Oh god,” and this time it was out loud as the sheet moved, lifted and fell, and Danny was pinned by lovely lavender eyes just as bleary as his.

“Danny?”

He nodded, for the first time noticing that he had not a stitch of clothing on. Neither did she, and the porcelain pale skin that the falling sheet exposed only drive home the fact that he was in bed with his best friend, naked. And, Danny was never going to survive Sam’s wrath once her brain kicked into gear and caught up with her, the clothes tossed around the room couldn’t really be a signal that they’d just decided to strip and hop into bed for sleep.

“What are you doing in my room?” she asked, yawning as she rubbed her eyes. “And how much did we drink?”

His heart stuttered in his chest. “T-too much, I think,” he whispered, one hand reaching out to take hers in his and stare at the plain golden ring on her third finger. “Way too much.”

“What are you talking ab—” She stopped dead as she saw the ring on her finger, the matching ring on the hand holding hers, and her jaw dropped as she snatched her hand back. “I was married by Elvis,” she breathed, and Danny wasn’t sure if she was angry or hysterical.

But with that single sentence, the whole of last night began to come back to him in bits and pieces. Up to a point, he realized. He could vividly remember splitting from the rest of the group they’d come to Vegas with, a Spring Break trip with too many friends from college, and the four of them heading off to play slots instead of trying he tables with everyone else. And somehow running across one of those little drive through chapels with an Elvis impersonator… And dear god. Did I actually ask her to marry me?

He had to have, because he remembered the vows. Sort of. And he remembered Tucker and Valerie telling them not to get too much sleep. And he remembered… He remembered the elevator, and that was it. There was nothing after that, even if he knew something else had happened. The marks on Sam’s shoulder were enough to tell him that, and maybe the stiffness in his back, too, because that felt way too much like dried blood flaking along his shoulder blade.

“Did we…” he started to ask, but the desperately angry look on her face shut him up.

“You don’t remember?” she asked him as she pulled the sheet more tightly around her. He shook his head and she gave a strangled laugh. She buried her face in her hands. “This could only happen to us,” she muttered against her hands. “We can have it annulled,” she continued.

Danny bit his lip but didn’t argue. It wasn’t like they had been dating. Anyone much less each other, so marriage was definitely a bit out of order. Besides, if he could ask her to marry him he could surely ask her out now. Simple math, really, and he’d aced that as a freshman. Besides, she’d obviously said yes. The thought nearly made him feel smug until he recalled that they were married, they were in bed with each naked, and he really, really couldn’t remember what they’d done. He cursed.

“What?” she asked sharply, and Danny couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes.

“Can you at least tell me if it was any good?” His voice was whisper soft, but he had no doubt that she heard him.

She laughed again, this time less strangled and a bit more amused, and Danny looked up wondering why she was suddenly taking this all in stride. She reached a hand out to touch his cheek, her eyes surprisingly warm as she leaned closer to him and said, “Wouldn’t you rather find out? It’d be better than asking, you know.”

She was an understanding woman. He knew that she was, but this was a little much. He opened his mouth to say something—what he was going to say he had no idea, but it was something profound and brilliant and—nonexistent. And she laughed again, this time a little more amused than the last as she leaned closer, and closer, until her breath could mingle with his, her lips a scant breath away.

“Danny. I was sober when you asked me to marry you.”

Description
21. Vacation

The sun was too bright as it cut through a slit in the curtains, and Danny rolled over with a groan. His head was pounding and he had a crick in his neck from the lack of pillow under head, but he did seem to still be alive. The last thing he could remember was Tucker and Valerie and Sam and… Oh. A very large bottle of some type of liquor. That would certainly explain why his tongue tasted like something had died on it. Ten years ago.

“Right,” he said, perilously close to a whimper until he shifted a little to the left to get his eyes out of the direct line of sunlight.

“Get off me,” an annoyed voice said from nearly beneath him, and Danny shot upright as he realized he wasn’t alone in the bed.

Oh god, he thought. I didn’t sleep with Valerie, did I? Or worse, someone I don’t know… Sam’s going to kill me when she finds out.

“Oh god,” and this time it was out loud as the sheet moved, lifted and fell, and Danny was pinned by lovely lavender eyes just as bleary as his.

“Danny?”

He nodded, for the first time noticing that he had not a stitch of clothing on. Neither did she, and the porcelain pale skin that the falling sheet exposed only drive home the fact that he was in bed with his best friend, naked. And, Danny was never going to survive Sam’s wrath once her brain kicked into gear and caught up with her, the clothes tossed around the room couldn’t really be a signal that they’d just decided to strip and hop into bed for sleep.

“What are you doing in my room?” she asked, yawning as she rubbed her eyes. “And how much did we drink?”

His heart stuttered in his chest. “T-too much, I think,” he whispered, one hand reaching out to take hers in his and stare at the plain golden ring on her third finger. “Way too much.”

“What are you talking ab—” She stopped dead as she saw the ring on her finger, the matching ring on the hand holding hers, and her jaw dropped as she snatched her hand back. “I was married by Elvis,” she breathed, and Danny wasn’t sure if she was angry or hysterical.

But with that single sentence, the whole of last night began to come back to him in bits and pieces. Up to a point, he realized. He could vividly remember splitting from the rest of the group they’d come to Vegas with, a Spring Break trip with too many friends from college, and the four of them heading off to play slots instead of trying he tables with everyone else. And somehow running across one of those little drive through chapels with an Elvis impersonator… And dear god. Did I actually ask her to marry me?

He had to have, because he remembered the vows. Sort of. And he remembered Tucker and Valerie telling them not to get too much sleep. And he remembered… He remembered the elevator, and that was it. There was nothing after that, even if he knew something else had happened. The marks on Sam’s shoulder were enough to tell him that, and maybe the stiffness in his back, too, because that felt way too much like dried blood flaking along his shoulder blade.

“Did we…” he started to ask, but the desperately angry look on her face shut him up.

“You don’t remember?” she asked him as she pulled the sheet more tightly around her. He shook his head and she gave a strangled laugh. She buried her face in her hands. “This could only happen to us,” she muttered against her hands. “We can have it annulled,” she continued.

Danny bit his lip but didn’t argue. It wasn’t like they had been dating. Anyone much less each other, so marriage was definitely a bit out of order. Besides, if he could ask her to marry him he could surely ask her out now. Simple math, really, and he’d aced that as a freshman. Besides, she’d obviously said yes. The thought nearly made him feel smug until he recalled that they were married, they were in bed with each naked, and he really, really couldn’t remember what they’d done. He cursed.

“What?” she asked sharply, and Danny couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes.

“Can you at least tell me if it was any good?” His voice was whisper soft, but he had no doubt that she heard him.

She laughed again, this time less strangled and a bit more amused, and Danny looked up wondering why she was suddenly taking this all in stride. She reached a hand out to touch his cheek, her eyes surprisingly warm as she leaned closer to him and said, “Wouldn’t you rather find out? It’d be better than asking, you know.”

She was an understanding woman. He knew that she was, but this was a little much. He opened his mouth to say something—what he was going to say he had no idea, but it was something profound and brilliant and—nonexistent. And she laughed again, this time a little more amused than the last as she leaned closer, and closer, until her breath could mingle with his, her lips a scant breath away.

“Danny. I was sober when you asked me to marry you.”