Title: MY LOVE, MY VALENTINE

Fandom: Donald Strachey Mysteries (movieverse)
Pairing: Donald and Timothy
Rating: NC-17 

Word Count: 13,210
References/Spoilers: References to Donald's past.
Disclosure: I wish they were mine. Alas, they are not, so I'm just taking them out for a spin with thanks to the men who created them and the actors who brought them to life. The song lyrics are not mine, either, but they're from one of my favorite songs, "Valentine".

Summary: The road to a wedding is long and fraught with challenges.

*************************************************

MY LOVE, MY VALENTINE

by

Candy Apple

I yawned as I stuck the key in the lock and turned it. I belatedly remembered I should try to be quiet, since it was almost two in the morning, and Timmy would probably be in bed sleeping. I opened the door and discovered I was half right. Timmy was sleeping, but he was doing it sitting at the kitchen table, laptop in front of him, head resting on his extended arm. With the wedding only days away, and the honeymoon to follow, he was working frantically to catch up on everything at his job, and plan ahead for anything he might miss while he was gone. He took his commitment to head up Congressman Donovan's staff very seriously. I've never seen him be anything but serious and dedicated about anything he's undertaken, but it was obvious that he wanted to live up to Donovan's confidence in him.

I came up behind his chair to wake him and get him headed for bed. I expected to see some text on the screen for a speech or some other thing he was working on, but instead there were pictures of men's wedding rings. It looked like he had his word processor up, too, so I'm sure he was working, but he'd taken a break to do a little online shopping. Suddenly, I felt guilty for getting so wrapped up in my latest case that I hadn't made time to go ring shopping with him. As he'd so aptly pointed out, we'd be lucky now to get them sized in time. That wouldn't be a problem. If I had to hold the jeweler hostage at gunpoint, we'd have them finished. He still gets a laugh out of reminiscing about me letting the jeweler see my gun when I had the watch done for him.

"Hey, sweetheart," I said softly, touching his hair lightly.

"Hey, you're home," he said, smiling, even though he looked like he was having a bit of trouble un-kinking his neck. Fortunately, rubbing any part of Timothy is one of my favorite pastimes, so I helpfully massaged his neck and his shoulder, and he stretched into the massage, smiling.

"It's almost two. How long have you been sleeping there?"

"Must've been a couple hours," he said, groggy.

"Tomorrow night, I'm not working late. We'll go pick out rings." I hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. He smiled.

"It's a date."

"A date with you. I like that."

"How's the case? Any progress?" he asked.

"Not as much as I'd like. I watched the house all night, but she didn't go out and nobody visited."

"I just hate it when philanderers take a night off, don't you?" he joked.

"Yeah, especially when I'm giving up an evening with a beautiful man just to sit out there in a cold car."

"You'll have it wrapped up by the wedding, right?"

"If it's not wrapped up, I know somebody I can pass it off to who'll split up the profits with me."

"Oh, good," he said, and I could feel him sag with relief.

"You thought I'd let a case interfere with marrying you?"

"No, I - well, I was just worried that maybe you'd be tied up, or maybe you couldn't get away for the honeymoon..."

"Timothy," I said, kneeling beside him, waiting until he turned to face me. "There's nothing that would keep me from marrying you." I took his hands, and looked right into his beautiful eyes. Okay, they were a little bloodshot, and there was a red line engraved in the side of his head where he'd been sleeping on his glasses, but he looked beautiful to me. "I know it might seem like I'm not interested in all the plans and the last-minute arrangements...shopping for the ring that's going to go on this beautiful finger for the rest of our lives," I kissed his ring finger. "But I can't wait to say vows to you and put that ring on you, and take you to Hawaii for two weeks where our biggest worry is going to be where to go for dinner and whether we want to make love by our pool under the stars, or inside our well-appointed honeymoon cabin."

"I guess that's settled," he joked, smiling, his eyes looking a little misty as he touched my cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too, sweetheart. I was going to take a shower. I wouldn't mind some company."

"With all the wedding costs, we really should try to conserve on the water bill," he replied, with that devilish look in his eyes that I'm so in love with. I'm in love with all his looks, really, but he's so cute when he thinks he's being naughty.

He shut down his laptop and we went hand in hand to the bathroom. It was late, and even though we were both getting excited, we were also tired, so we took care of stripping off our own clothes, and I started the water warming up while Timmy found some good-smelling body wash and a nice big sponge. I'm kind of a no-nonsense guy when it comes to taking a shower - just give me some soap and let me do my thing - but there's a lot to be said for something really good-smelling and a nice lathery sponge to get each other nice and slippery. A big old clumsy bar of soap just doesn't quite do that.

We washed each other, taking our time running that soapy sponge over each other's skin. As exciting as it was, there was something so intensely intimate about it that we took our time, shut in that steamy little enclosure together. I knew early in our relationship that I had never felt for anyone what I felt for Timothy, because being intimate with him was just as amazing to me as getting down to the sex. It still is. When we finished bathing, he took me in his arms and kissed me, and if I had any illusions that I was going to be in the driver's seat, I gave up on them and just let Timmy have his way.

I relaxed and lost myself in the kissing, the slickness of our skin making it easy to rub against each other in the embrace, so we didn't have to let go or do anything other than just hold on and move a little. It took us a while to come, but that was fine with me. I loved being pressed against him, feeling his body against me, tasting his mouth, being so close we were like one body. I found myself smiling when my mouth had a spare instant, savoring the thought that he was mine, that we were going to belong to each other for the rest of our lives. That the man I felt this much for, who I was this hot for, was the one I'd be married to. That falling in love and being committed could be this amazing.

Timmy came first, tilting his head back and gasping, shuddering, and looking so sexy and amazing that I came, too. Then he looked at me with this soft little smile that melted my heart. I hugged him, kissed his beautiful chest, then his beautiful mouth again.

"We should get some sleep," he said, his forehead against mine, still holding me close to him. I didn't let go of him, either.

"Any chance you'd play hooky with me in the morning?"

"I suppose all this extra work and the stress of wedding planning could give me a bad tension headache."

"You look pale," I chimed in, kissing and nibbling at his neck.

"I'd have to go in by noon, or I'll lose all the momentum I've gained by working ahead."

"I'll buy you brunch and drive you there myself."

"What a deal!" he joked, kissing me again.

We dried off and got into bed, facing each other, sharing the same pillow. Our noses were almost touching.

"I was working on my vows earlier," he said, his breath feeling warm against my cheek. "Have you started on yours yet?"

"Yeah, I've got a few ideas," I said. It's the first and last time I blatantly lied to Timothy. I had no fucking clue what I was gonna say or how I could possibly put into words how I felt about him. Add to that, I didn't relish the idea of saying the kinds of things I wanted to say to him in front of a bunch of people, including his mother. "There's some stuff I'll probably save to say to you when we're alone," I said. That part was true.

"Me, too," he said, smiling. That smile and the love in his eyes was worth the little lie. I did have a few ideas, I just didn't know how to make them sound pretty, and I hadn't written anything.

"A couple things I wouldn't want to say in front of your mother." I kissed him, and looked into his eyes. They were beautiful even in the shadows of the darkened room. He looked so in love with me, and so happy. I still couldn't believe that I was the one responsible for that look. I took his hand and kissed it, settling close to him, relaxing.

Little did I know that within a few days, writing vows would be the least of my worries.

********

Don kept his word and was home before six that evening so we could go grab a bite to eat and go ring shopping. And he had another Valentine for me. This time, it was a chocolate rose in red foil on the end of a green stem of some sort. It was kind of ugly, and obviously was a spur of the moment purchase from wherever he'd stopped for gas, because no respectable chocolatier would have let it out of his shop. I would have preferred it to a five pound box of Godivas because of the sweet way he handed it to me and kissed me and said, "Happy Valentine's Day, honey."

"You do realize that if you keep bringing me candy every day between now and the wedding, I'm going to pop my cummerbund."

"Just more of you to make love to on the honeymoon," he replied mischievously, kissing me again. While he was joking, I've always had the feeling that Donald will love me even if my belly sags and my chest hair, which he seems to like so much, turns gray, and I get those...male breasts that happen when men who have decent chests when they're young start to...uh...soften up and the load shifts.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" I asked, kissing him this time, taking my time, thoughts of dinner and ring shopping fading a bit while I tasted him, felt his arms around me.

"I don't know, but hopefully getting me will help atone for it," he replied, laughing.

"You're impossible." I was laughing, nuzzling him now, so glad he was home and not out freezing and sliding around on the snowy roads alone.

"That's why you love me."

"That, and a few other things," I added, hugging him, kissing him again.

"Where do you want to eat?" He stepped back and took off his coat, heading for the bathroom.

"How much coffee have you had today?" I called after him, smiling. In this cold weather, he consumed the stuff in mass quantities, and by the time he got home, he was as laid back as a Chihuahua drinking double espressos. He's energetic anyway, but slip him enough caffeine and you're lucky if his feet touch the floor and he finishes even one complete thought.

"A couple gallons, I think," he called back.

"How about fish and chips?" I suggested.

"Crappy fast food on ring shopping night?"

"More money to put toward the rings," I replied. I looked out the window. It was snowing again. "How are the roads?"

"Not too bad," he said, returning to the living room where I was putting on my coat. He shrugged back into his leather coat I'd bought him for Christmas. "A little slick on the side streets, but nothing we can't handle."

"Where did you have in mind for dinner?"

"How about crab legs?"

"That does sound good."

"Step up the food chain from the fried mystery fish," he said, opening the door for me as we went out into the hall and headed for the elevator. Mr. Ellerbee came out of his apartment about the same time, putting on his gloves.

"Evening, boys," he said, joining us at the elevator.

"Hey, Fred, how's it going?" Don replied. We were all on first name basis now that Fred was dating Cora, and often picked her up for lunch at Don's office.

"Got a date," he said, smiling.

"Better be Cora, or I'm telling," Don teased him, and we all got on the elevator.

"She works for a private eye. Wouldn't dare cheat on her," he quipped.

"Where are you two off to tonight?" I asked.

"They've got a special going on at Red Lobster on dinners for two. She's been wanting some seafood that doesn't come in a paper tray, so that's where we're going."

"What a coincidence! Don and I were going to do the same thing."

"You wanna double?" Fred suggested.

"We don't want to intrude on your date," Don said. I think he kind of preferred they didn't intrude on ours, but there was something about going out as a couple with another couple that appealed to me. We hadn't established ourselves with a lot of mutual friends yet, and I wanted that for us.

"Nonsense! Cora'll love the idea. I'll call her," he said, taking out his cell phone. Dating Cora had made him go "high tech". From the old cell phone he had that actually made his pocket hang down from the weight of it, to a new, trim model with all the bells and whistles, Cora had dragged him with a bit of resistance, into the state-of-the-art of cell phones. "Cora, I just ran into Don and Tim. They're going out for seafood, too. You want to all go together?" The responding gush of enthusiasm indicated she was on board with the idea. "Great. We'll see you in a few minutes. We can all go in my car if you want," he offered, putting his phone in his coat pocket.

"We're ring shopping after dinner, so we probably better take our own car," I replied, and I smiled when Don slipped his hand into mine and squeezed.

"Sure hope that storm doesn't come through they've been talking about for next week," he said, and the bottom dropped out of the evening. I'd been so busy between the last minute details and work that I hadn't even looked at the weather. Don's face fell. Okay, so now I knew he had been keeping an eye on the weather forecasts and just hoped that I hadn't been.

"How big of a storm?" I asked as we all walked out toward our cars.

"Those things change course quite a bit in a week," Don said, shooting him a look that rendered the poor old man silent and, I believe, slightly in fear of his safety.

"How big of a storm, Donald?" I pinned him with a look that left little room for argument.

"So, I'll meet you two at the restaurant!" Fred said with mock cheer as he fled to his car and got in, starting it up and heading out on the road as if he were running forhis life from federal agents.

"There's no use getting all worked up about it if it doesn't even happen. You know they're threatening us with a blizzard every time we turn on the news."

"Donald Strachey, answer me. How big of a storm?" I was getting pissed off now, and I didn't care that we were getting blanketed with snow as we stood there, or that Donald didn't like the cold, or that he'd brought me that ugly chocolate rose. The wrong weather system could destroy the entire wedding. My family was flying up from Virginia, the band was from New York City, and if we got two feet of snow, even the people who lived blocks from the Carrington estate would be snowbound.

"If it hits the way they think it will, it could be a big one. A real mess. Flights will be canceled, roads will be closed, the city will grind to a halt and four months of planning will be in the fucking toilet. Is that what you want me to say?" he shot back, and I stared at him, a bit stunned. Then I realized he was as upset about his as I was, only he'd been stewing about it considerably longer.

"I can think of things I'd rather hear," I replied, keeping my tone level.

"I didn't want you to worry. Sometimes these things change direction and hit a whole different area."

"How likely is that?"

"Not very, according to the weather forecasts. I knew it was too good to be true that some fucking moron wouldn't talk about the weather before next week."

"Donald, it's only a bizarre set of circumstances that I didn't hear about it around the water cooler at work. Don't take it out on Fred."

"I'm not, I don't mean it that way. It's just that if another asshole says 'so, whaddya think about that storm headin' our way?', I'm going to shoot him."

"It's not your fault there's a blizzard moving toward us," I said. He blinked a time or two, as if he were completely stupefied by the remark. But it was true. He was so attuned to protecting me and wanting to make everything right and good for me, that he was actually fretting over an impending Act of God and hiding it like a dirty secret. "Honey, we can't stop a blizzard," I said, taking his hand in mine. "And you can't protect me from everything."

"I want to," he said, sighing. "You've worked so hard on this wedding, and your family's coming - "

"If the blizzard doesn't ground all the flights."

"See, that's just it - "

"Don, the blizzard can take its best shot. Are you going to be with me on Valentine's Day?"

"Of course I will."

"Are you going to promise to love me forever and be my husband, even if there's a blizzard going on?"

"If I have to walk through it barefoot in my shorts."

"I want to see you barefoot in your shorts at some point that night, but not out in the snow. Deal?"

"Deal," he replied, shaking his head, smiling. "I thought you'd lose it."

"I was on the brink," I admitted, laughing, and then he laughed, too, and I was so glad to see him relax. He's my knight in shining armor and my whole life. How could a blizzard mess with that?

"I could tell. I think we scared Fred."

"I never saw an old guy in a tweed hat pull out of a driveway that fast before," I added, and he laughed.

"We should get going."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, beautiful," he said, kissing me. We were alone out there in the dark with the snow falling around us, and for just a moment, while we kissed some more, time stood still.

"It's the fags from downstairs."

The quote carried toward us on the winter wind, and I don't think the bigot who said it really intended for us to hear it. He said it to his girlfriend, who was walking beside him, and she looked mortified when we parted and turned to look at them.

"I'm sorry," she said, and he gave her a dirty look.

"You're lucky you're with a lady, asshole," Don said.

"Yeah, you, too," he jabbed back, and I barely got a hold of Don's arm before he made his lunge.

"Let it go. He's not worth it and we have plans."

"You're suck a jerk," the man's girlfriend said, striding ahead of him, shaking her head.

"What's the matter with you now?" he called after her, chasing her, apparently distracted from mixing it up with Don. That was probably a good thing for all of us. Although, judging by the fire in Don's eyes and the rigidness of his stance, he was far from finished with our upstairs neighbor. I knew that by mid-morning, he'd know the guy's name, apartment number, and have run a full background check on him.

"He's not worth it, Don, calm down," I said, relaxing my grip a little.

"He's not, but you are."

"You know you're my hero, right? But that doesn't mean you have to take on the world for me all the time. We can't get into street brawls every time some narrow minded bigot makes a remark."

"He insulted you."

"And you think his opinion means anything to me?"

"I think you can say whatever you want, but I know it bugs you."

"Bigotry bugs me. The fact the wedding we're planning won't make us legally married, that bugs me. And yes, being insulted in the street because of who I am and whom I love, does bug me. But you being arrested or injured would bug me a whole lot more. I know you'd lay down your life for mine. I don't need you to prove your love by slugging bigots."

"Okay, I'll try not to slug bigots. At least, not every time."

"Fair enough," I replied, tugging on his sleeve. "Let's go have dinner with our friends and pick out some wedding rings, huh?"

********

I have to admit that Don had done a nice job of matchmaking with Fred and Cora. The two of them went out regularly and enjoyed each other's company. We had an enjoyable dinner, but I could tell Don was still stewing a bit about the encounter with the guy outside our building. I was sorry that had to happen that night, when we were going to pick out rings. Unfortunately, the world is full of people like that guy, whether they voice their prejudices or not, so if we waited for a time when no one would look at us and our love for each other with disgust, we'd never have rings, a wedding, or anything else. At least, most likely not in our lifetime.

Having dinner with Fred and Cora was a good reminder for both of us that there were nice people out there, good people at all ages who believed that love was love, and any two consenting adults had a right to share it.

"Any idea what kind of rings you're going to pick out?" Cora asked.

"We haven't talked about it," Don said, extracting a piece of crabmeat with the skill of a surgeon. Since I don't seem to have his knack and mine were shredding, he put it on my plate, barely catching my eye with a little grin on his face. I rubbed my thigh against his under the table. There's a lot to be said for sharing the side of a booth with someone you love.

"Now that's love," Fred commented, laughing. "How'd you do that?" He watched Don work on another crab leg with the same result.

"Just crack it very carefully about in the middle, and kind of work it back and forth," he instructed, demonstrating, and another fat piece slid out intact.

Fred and I both tried it, and had better results than we'd been having. Cora just shook her head and carved another bite of her lobster.

"Why anyone would go through all that is beyond me."

"It's the thrill of the chase," Don said, and we all laughed, though I suspect in Don's case, there was a ring of truth to it. A pile of crab legs was one more puzzle to solve, and if Don likes anything, he likes unraveling puzzles, both human and crustacean.

Fred and Cora went their own way to a movie, while Don and I went to a jewelry store. It was a big one, but it was elegant and well-appointed and the jewelry was good quality. We began perusing the wedding rings, and a well-groomed, suited salesman approached us.

"May I show you gentlemen something?" he asked. He looked about twenty years older than we were, with neatly styled dark hair. He was good looking, tall, and I was reasonably sure he was as gay as we were. I felt myself relax.

"Wedding rings," I said.

"Ah. When is the big day?"

"Valentine's Day," I replied, catching Don's eye and smiling.

"What a perfect day to get married," he commented, pulling out a tray of rings. Most of the sets were arranged to display both the men's and women's styles together. "If you see something you like, I'm sure we have additional stock in most of these."

"The one with the diamonds is nice," Don said, and it was. But it was too easy to overlook that it was a wedding ring, especially since we planned to wear them on our right hands.

"Yes, but I want to be sure there's no mistaking what it's for."

"If you like something with a bit of styling to it, you might enjoy the white gold with the yellow gold accents," he suggested. "My partner and I have those," he said, showing off his own ring.

"How long have you been together?" I asked.

"About ten years. Ten wonderful years."

"Congratulations," Don said, smiling at me. "What about those?" he said, pointing at two plain gold bands. They were beautiful, solid, highly polished, and very obviously wedding rings.

"I love them."

"It seems we may have a winner," the salesman said, smiling, handing me the ring he had in the case.

"Try it on, sweetheart. See if you like it."

"Here. We'll try it on my left hand," I said, handing him the ring. He grinned and slipped it on my left finger. I didn't want to spoil the moment of it going where it was really going to go, but I did want to see it. My heart did a little flip when I looked at it. It made me look so married, and that's what I wanted most.

Unfortunately, it was a size too large, and after checking, they didn't have any in stock exactly our sizes.

"We'll put a rush on the sizing," the salesman said, beginning to enter the information on a work order. "We'll have it done for you in a couple days. Better not to have them still in for service if the blizzard hits."

"Don't remind us," Don said, sighing.

"There's nothing more romantic than being snowed in together. Randy and I are already making plans for a Valentine's Day at home," he added, giving us a wink.

"We've got kind of a big event planned," I said.

"We'll hope for a nice change in that capricious old jet stream then," he said, and proceeded to confirm our ring sizes and take payment for the rings.

********

For the next few days, Timothy and I pretended the blizzard wasn't coming. At least, we pretended that to each other. I know he was on the phone to his mother comparing local weather forecasts between New York and Virginia pretty much every evening, and he developed a nearly debilitating addiction to the Weather Channel. The morning of the twelfth, it started to snow. And it didn't stop. It got heavier. Grocery stores were crowded, schools were closing early, news anchors grimly warned travelers of treacherous roads and freeway pileups. Timothy kept up his sparkly, happy, "I-only-need-you-here" attitude, which would have easily fooled anyone who didn't know him.

I know that given a choice between a big party and my not being around, Timmy would choose me, but then someone to marry is the essential piece of the wedding puzzle. We had the social event of the season planned, with an early evening ceremony, a lavish gourmet meal, and dancing to a small orchestra with a singer to croon some of the most romantic old standards.

I don't get very excited about decorations, but when we trudged through the snow like two frozen sled dogs who didn't know enough to take shelter to go out to Eleanor Carrington's house to see the place, I was impressed. The red chair covers and linens contrasted with white table cloths. Centerpieces of red and white roses were to be delivered the morning of the fourteenth, but instead, were scheduled for delivery on the thirteenth, since Timmy had called them and put them through an interrogation that would have shamed the inquisitors the Church employed during the Inquisition. When they were unable to guarantee the morning delivery scheduled the day of the wedding, he'd shamed them into loading their trucks, completely fucking up their entire Valentine's Day delivery plan, and getting our flowers to the estate while the roads were still open. It occurred to me to remind him that we might have a lot of empty tables with pretty flowers on them if the snow kept falling, but I wanted to live to marry him, so I kept my mouth shut.

Eleanor had ordered the heat turned down to keep the room cold and the flowers fresh. The chandeliers were threaded with ribbons and silk flowers that looked real. Her chef and his additional staff were put up in rooms at the estate in case the roads became too treacherous the next day.

The band was in New York City, Timmy's family was in Virginia, and still the snow continued to fall. Since Timothy's mother's visit had been snowed out over Christmas, he was sulking that their reunion was cursed beneath a dark star. I don't know what that means, but it sounded awful.

And still the snow came down. The storm was working its way up the coast, so the O'Connor-Callahans were all trapped in Virginia with all the flights cancelled. Still, Timmy and his mother kept the vigil, hoping against hope that as the storm moved, flights would resume. I think we all knew that wasn't going to happen, but no one voiced it.

That afternoon, while I was at my office tying up some loose ends, I did something I swore I would never do again. I called one of my old buddies from my Army days, the only one I knew who didn't treat me like shit after the whole Kyle mess. Manuel Nunez was a tall, broad, muscular guy who looked like he could rip your head off, but had the heart of a teddy bear. I later found out the reason he was so fucking broad-minded was that he was gayer than a goose himself, and the minute he got out of the Army, he hooked up with this hot Latino guy named Miguel and the two of them started a landscaping business together. They'd settled in Warrensburg, which was only about an hour away. Actually, I was thinking of taking Timmy up there some weekend for a little hiking and camping, since he'd actually agreed to try that with me sometime.

"Don Strachey! I thought you were probably dead by now, you crazy son of a bitch!" he greeted.

"Yeah, well, I thought about it a few times, but I met somebody."

"Congratulations, man! Tell me about him."

"He's tall, dark-haired, gorgeous, brilliant, and I don't deserve him, but somehow, I conned him into marrying me."

"Sounds like a catch."

"How's Miguel?"

"Hotter than habaneros," he said, laying on his Mexican accent really thick.

"I need some help, and you're the only other guy I know besides me who had the balls to drive those Humvees through that sandstorm."

"That was a crazy operation, man. Never forget that."

"Wanna drive a Hummer to Albany in a blizzard?" 

"Are you fucking crazy?"

"Yeah, but you already knew that. Look, my fiance's family is stuck in Virginia, the flights are all canceled... You're just up the road in Warrensburg... If we drive down there with two Hummers, we can get most of them. I'll arrange the rentals, and I'll pay you whatever you ask."

"The roads are terrible between here and there."

"Yeah, so? Bad visibility, shitty roads - snowstorm, sandstorm, what's the difference?"

"About eighty degrees and several years."

"Don't tell me civilian life made you that soft."

"As a matter of fact, it has."

"Look, Manuel, this is a lot to ask, I know that, but I'm desperate. I'll do it alone if I have to, but then I can't bring the whole family up here, and it's more dangerous if I'm traveling alone. I'm not worried for me, but I'm bringing Timothy's mother and grandmother up here, and I don't want to risk if I went off the road or something, that someone else isn't around with a mobile vehicle to take the old folks on. He's got a couple old aunts, too."

"I got a better idea. Let's rent one of those Hummer limos and I'll bring Miguel, you bring Timothy - we'll make it a party."

"I tried for a limo. With it being Valentine's Day, and the roads, most all of them are already committed, and the few that weren't wouldn't let me take the vehicle and their chauffeurs aren't going to drive to Virginia in a blizzard."

"Miguel's into skiing and hiking, and he's a good driver. He loves a good adventure, and he could hold his own and help us if we had any problems on the road."

"Then you'll do it? I don't know how to thank you for this."

"Feed us good when we get everybody there, and let me kiss your groom."

"On the cheek, maybe."

"I'm driving his family through a blizzard."

"Take it or leave it. I'll sell one of my kidneys to pay you back for this, but cheek is all you're getting from Timmy."

"Which ones, eh?" There was a dirty laugh on the other end of the line. "Okay, man, but you behave around Miguel, then. You got a thing for those tall, dark-haired ones," he said, and then he paused. The reference to Kyle wasn't lost on either one of us. There was no point in making it more awkward. He didn't mean any harm by it.

"Yeah, well, I won't ever be looking around for another one. This is the one."

Next, I called Timmy's mother and sprang the idea on her. I wanted to be sure she'd be game to do it, and that she'd round up the other Virginia relatives and organize a pick up point. She was ecstatic. I was afraid her shriek would be audible all the way to Albany, and Timothy would recognize it. She gushed what a wonderful man I was, how exciting this was, how she couldn't wait to meet me, and she was so excited to be at the wedding - I was exhausted after the phone call, but I knew what it would mean to Timmy, and that was worth anything. Of course, that was assuming he forgave me for sneaking away the morning before the wedding and not telling him what I was up to.

Manuel and Miguel were driving down to Albany in one of their landscaping company pick-ups, and we were starting out from there with the rented Hummers. Fred came over in his big old Buick and picked Cora and me up at the office, since my car was buried, and I knew the damn thing would be stuck on the first side road that was nasty. He happily relinquished the driving to me, so he could sit in the passenger side and give me bad weather driving advice and Cora could sit in the back and scold him for it. We stopped at an overcrowded grocery store, and all loaded up on provisions. I was buying for the Hummer excursion, just enough to get us by to get down there, since Tim's mother had told me she'd pack food for all of us for the trip back. Plus, I had Timothy on the cell phone, directing me what to buy for us at the apartment.

I marveled how I ever got by without all the helpful advice I now got on both my driving and buying groceries.

********

I know my mother pretty well, and when I talked to her the evening of the twelfth, she was just too upbeat for a mother who was snowbound and missing her son's wedding. I smelled a rat, I just didn't know that its name was Donald. Of course, I knew something was off with him, too, but I chalked it up to wedding jitters, not writing his vows yet - which he thought I was fooled into believing he'd been working on - or the funk we were both in over all the money and planning we'd invested in this just so we could sit alone in Eleanor's ballroom and exchange vows. Not to mention the fact our flight to Hawaii for the fifteenth didn't look much more hopeful, since people were sleeping on the floors in the airports, waiting to fly out, and all those cancelled and delayed flights still had to get off the ground sometime.

Eleanor was everything you would expect from a hostess at a top notch venue. She'd brought in the catering staff and put them up in the mansion's servants' quarters, and she'd hired a snow removal service to continuously plow the driveway and the parking area. I constantly argued with her that we would pay for those extra arrangements, and she constantly replied that she had more money than she knew what to do with, and last time she checked, she couldn't take it with her. What a great lady she was.

Donald, the ultimate night owl, was not only home at a decent hour that night, but he seemed drowsy by about ten o'clock. The only time Donald is in bed at ten o'clock is if I'm with him there, naked, and the springs are creaking, or he's deathly sick and unable to move. Or if we decided to forego dinner for sex and he's sleeping it off. I was bouncing off the walls, myself, since our band was snowbound in New York. Have you ever tried to find a decent band the day before Valentine's Day? I'll save you the trouble. It can't be done.

At this rate, my family wouldn't be there, and Don and I would be eating dinner for a hundred people, with Eleanor, listening to a CD player. But we'd be served by a full catering staff.

So Don went to bed at ten, and I sat up and stewed. It isn't that I didn't mean what I said about only needing him there - my priorities aren't so screwed up that I don't know what an amazing guy he is and how lucky I am to have him, and that saying our vows to each other and committing to each other for life isn't what this is all about. But it meant something to me to have friends and family there, and the wedding we had planned was going to be a beautiful event we'd remember all our lives. Something to mark our commitment, since the law didn't mark it yet.

I finally crawled into bed with him about one in the morning, and despite my best efforts not to wake him, he stirred and took me in his arms.

"Everything's going to work out, honey. Go to sleep and forget about it. It'll all be okay, I promise."

I don't know why I always believe him when what he says seems impossible. Maybe it's because if he says it, he somehow pulls it off. I felt myself relaxing, cuddling up to him, dozing off to sleep. Little did I know he was lulling me off to dreamland so he could launch his covert operation at five in the morning. I've never quite trusted him again when he says, "go back to sleep, honey, I'm just going to the john." He didn't mention that the john was in Virginia.

********

The highways were passable. They were shitty, but still open, and that's all we needed. Manuel and Miguel met me at a pancake house at five, and we gorged ourselves on a breakfast that would keep us for several hours while we drove like madmen toward Virginia. I'd picked up the Hummers the night before and parked them at Eleanor's place. I think the only person involved in the wedding that didn't know what I was up to was Timothy. That didn't set well with me, but I knew he'd freak out at the thought of me taking to the roads in a blizzard, and then further lose it at the thought of his mother, his grandmother, and two of his tiny aged aunts climbing up into a Hummer and traveling through a blizzard for about ten hours.

I volunteered to drive the little old ladies, since I figured his mother would be more relaxed with me doing it than strangers. Of course, I'd only met her via telephone and a couple times through Timmy's laptop's webcam. Still, I was marrying her son, so I was more family than anyone else involved. Timmy's cousin, Nicholas O'Connor, the son of one of the little old aunts on his mother's side, was to ride with us. He was an avid skier, in good physical condition, and a good driver who wasn't afraid of the elements. His wife, and two other couples, both cousins and spouses, were riding with Miguel and Manuel. Anne had done her managerial work well, setting up the passenger arrangement, deciding who would go and who wouldn't, and making sure they were all at Nicholas's house with their luggage and provisions, since he was closest to the highway exit.

********

When I woke up at seven, and Don wasn't in bed with me, I knew something was up. We had the day off to get any last minute things done that could be done, given the weather. There was no aroma of coffee in the air. No little sounds of Don scuttling around the apartment quietly, trying not to wake me. And then I saw the note on the night stand. I sat up and put on my glasses, turned on the light, and opened it.

Dear Timmy,

Please forgive me for sneaking out on you, but I'm working on my wedding present for you.

I love you more than anything in this world, more than I ever loved anyone or anything. I would do anything for you, and knowing that you want to marry me and be with me forever still leaves me speechless. Please don't ever forget how much I love you, even when you read this note and you start getting that set to your jaw and you kind of press your lips together like you do, and your nostrils flare because you're pissed off at me for lying to you. I'll be back in plenty of time to marry you. I wouldn't miss that for the world, sweetheart.

Love,

Don

I read the note a couple times, and it scared me a little because the way he professed his love almost made it sound as if he was doing something dangerous. And I was a little annoyed that he had all of my quirks down quite so well, so early in our relationship, but he was a detective, and gauging people's reactions was a big part of that.

I called my mother, and got her voice mail. It was then that I really got suspicious. It was the day before the wedding, we'd all been praying for the storm to lift, for some flights to be back in the air, and my mother and I had burned up countless hours on the phone in the last few days. But now I was getting her voice mail.

"Mom, it's me. Don's up to something. Did he call you? I'm worried about him, so if you know something, please call me back. Talk to you later." I broke the connection and sighed in frustration. Still in bed, I turned on the TV and listened to the dire news of how bad the roads were, how many cars were stranded and how many accidents wreckers were trying to respond to. The endless lists of closings crawled across the screen.

The only ray of sunshine in all of it was that the storm had weakened to snow showers in Virginia, and they were digging out. Still, the airport was at a standstill, and emergency crews were strained to their limits keeping up with the snow in Albany and other parts of New York State.

********

By eight o'clock, I got a call from Timmy, and I answered it, even though voice mail was a temptation. I didn't want him to worry, I just didn't want to tell him what I was up to.

"Hey, beautiful," I greeted, keeping my eyes riveted to the road, glad that Manuel's tail lights were still in my sights.

"Donald, where are you and what are you up to?"

"It's a surprise," I said, knowing he wouldn't let me off the hook that easily.

"You're doing something insane, aren't you?"

"I don't think so."

"Are you driving to Virginia in this blizzard?"

Fuck. Sneaking out on him was one thing. A little white lie about writing vows, well, to save his feelings, I could do that. But outright lying? I couldn't do it.

"I'm gonna go get your family."

"Donald, turn around a come home. I love you for what you want to do, but if I lost you, none of it would be worth it."

"You're not gonna lose me, honey. I'm in a Hummer, and I have a friend of mine driving a second one on the same route. We drove Humvees through sandstorms in the Army - we know what we're doing, and we're going to be fine."

"Please, this is crazy. Why did you sneak out without me?"

"Because you have last minute things to do to keep the wedding on track there. Somebody's gotta find a band or music, keep track of the local guests, figure out a way to get them there if they're willing to go out in the storm, making sure all the arrangements are how you want them."

"Okay, so you're right about all that, but I still don't want you to do this. It's not that I don't want my family here, but I want you here more. Maybe it took you doing this for me to really figure it out, but I don't want you to risk your life so our wedding can be bigger or better or someone can be there besides you. If something happens to you - "

"Timmy, honey, nothing's going to happen to me. I wouldn't risk your mom or the rest of your family if I didn't think we could get them back there safely. Besides, I'm already on the road."

"It's a lot shorter for you to turn around and come home than it is for you to go on."

"You can't tell me that you don't care whether or not your mom is there for our wedding."

"I never said I didn't care. I just said I cared more about you being there, but mostly, about your safety. Don, please, come back home to me. I don't care about the rest of it if you're okay."

"You seriously want me to turn around and come back to Albany? Honey, I know I can make this. We're in the worst of the weather right now, and it's doable. It'll get better as we get farther away New York and closer to Virginia. Can you just trust my judgment?"

"It's not that I don't - "

"Then relax, focus on getting things taken care of there, and I'll be home before you know it. I gotta hang up for a while and concentrate on the road. I'll call you in a couple hours. I love you, honey."

"I love you, too. Thank you for this."

"Anything for my Valentine. You be careful, too. The local streets are worse than the highway."

"I will. I can't wait for you to be home, safe."

"And when I get there, we're gonna get married, and the storm's gonna let up, and we'll get started on our honeymoon."

After I hung up, I sat there a while, wondering if I'd been just a little too obsessed with all the wedding plans. I told him he was what mattered, and he was, but now that he was driving through the storm down a snowy highway, my heart ached with just how much he mattered. I knew I'd not only not want to live without him, but that I'd never forgive myself if he didn't make it back safely. I took time out to pray on that, for his safety, and that I'd never forget as long as we lived, just how precious he was, and how distant a second anything else ranked to him.

********

I kept my word and called Timmy every couple hours on what turned into a ten-hour drive. It was normally about a seven-hour trip, but I figured given the conditions, we made good time. Nicholas O'Connor's house was a nice white colonial with black shutters. When we were both there, I led the way up to the door to begin loading our passengers. Tim's mother answered the door and suddenly I was swept into an overly enthusiastic "mother hug".

"Thank goodness you're here safe and sound!" she gushed, pulling me into the warmth of the house. Manuel and Miguel followed me inside.

"Anne, this is Manuel Nunez and his partner, Miguel Guerrero," I said, and she shook hands with both of them. Manuel was as imposing and larger than life as ever, while Miguel was slightly smaller in build, with thick dark hair and big brown eyes. Manuel was right - if I hadn't met the love of my life and, in my opinion, the best looking guy on earth, I definitely would have given Miguel more than a passing glance.

"Thank you both for helping Don out with this trip. I'm so thrilled to be going to the wedding, we all are."

"I was overdue for a little adventure," Manuel said with a chuckle.

"It's just snow," Miguel chimed in. "Can't let that get in the way of getting Mom to the wedding," he joked.

"Come in, all of you. We have some hot coffee on, and I'm sure you're all ready for a rest stop," she said.

"We don't want to linger long. It took us about ten hours to get here," I said.

"Well, you're not going back on the road until you've had a chance to rest a few minutes and have a snack and something warm to drink."

We met the rest of our passengers, and sat around a large, elegant dining room table drinking coffee and eating sandwiches. I got Timmy on the phone and they all passed the cell phone around, taking their turns talking a mile a minute. One thing the O'Connor-Callahan crowd is good at is talking. I finally got the phone back.

"We're going to start out again in a few minutes, sweetheart. Did you get a band?"

"Not exactly, but we got a sound system and some stereo equipment. Sean's son knows a D.J. with a good collection of music for weddings, so I'm meeting with him first thing in the morning to review what he considers good wedding music. Maybe you should rest there overnight and start out in the morning."

"I don't want to chance not being home in time for the wedding. Besides, your family's ready to start the great interstate snow adventure."

"If you were on the road by dawn - "

"Sweetheart, dawn isn't until about 7:30, and if it takes us as long coming back as it did going, we'd be late for the wedding. We'll be fine. The weather is better here, so we can make some decent time on the early end, and once we all get there, we can sleep for a few hours before everything gets started. We'll all just go to the hotel - "

"Drop the guests off there, but I want you to come home. We'll go to the hotel together later, or I can meet you there."

"I'll come home." I smiled, thinking of how sweet it would be to see him, to get in bed with him, even for a couple hours. "Keep the home fires burning, Timmy. I'll call you from the road, keep you posted."

"Be careful, honey. I love you."

"I love you, too," I replied, to a chorus of "Awwwws" from the rest of the people at the table.

"You must, to put up with that bunch," Timmy joked.

"Oh, I do," I said.

"Hold that thought."

"See you later. Get some sleep. I won't call after eleven," I promised.

"Call me anytime. I'm not going to rest until you get home."

"Try. Be kind of a bummer if we both fall asleep on our wedding night."

"Is my mother there?"

"Oh, that's right. She probably thought we had the honeymoon suite reserved so we could play checkers." I winked at Anne, who laughed.

"Donald, what am I gonna do with you?"

"I don't know, but get some sleep so you're awake to do it."

"Goodbye, Donald."

"Goodbye, sweetheart," I replied sweetly, still grinning.

We loaded the luggage, and then the passengers, and started our journey back to Albany. Anne insisted on riding shotgun with me in the front seat, all dolled up in some designer coat and boots that were worth more than my car. She shooed Nicholas to the rear of the vehicle with Timothy's two elderly aunts and his grandmother. Grandma Grace was a sweet little lady in a mink coat who barely made it to five feet tall, but had the same glint in her deep blue eyes that I thought of as Timmy's glint. She got the biggest kick out of my lifting her into the seat of the SUV that would have been too high for her to climb in on her own. She told me I swept her off her feet just like her husband had when she was a girl.

On the long drive, I learned a lot about Timmy's childhood, since his mother spent most of the trip filling me in on all kinds of anecdotes. I found myself kind of jealous of him, having a mother who still loved him for exactly who he was. For having a couple carloads of relatives who still cared enough about him to ride through the snowy night toward Albany just to see him marry his male partner. At the same time, I could tell they were accepting me as one of the clan, and just like that, I had a family again. That was something I hadn't had for a very long time.

"Now I know you're in love with my son," Anne said, taking a sip of the latte we'd stopped for along the way. The snow was letting up, even as we drove back into New York.

"Why's that?" I asked, sparing a glance at her, smiling.

"Because I've been telling you Timothy stories for about a hundred miles now, and you still want to hear more."

"He's my favorite subject," I replied, and it was easy to come up with a reply, because I meant it. She glanced in the rearview mirror to see that all the rest of the passengers had dozed off for a nap.

"Timothy loves you so much, Don. It's good to know you love him just as much."

"Sometimes I still can't believe he said yes," I said. "For what it's worth, I plan on spending the rest of my life showing him that was a good call." She smiled.

"Well, you have my seal of approval. Anyone who'd drive through this weather - about twenty hours of it back to back... I know how much you love him and how much it means to you that he's happy."

********

I tossed and turned for a couple hours, trying to get some sleep and failing miserably. I couldn't doze off. When I'd talked to Don last, they were only a few hours away. Well, a few hours on good roads. I finally got up, put on my robe, and went out to the living room. I curled up on the couch with my cell phone and a blanket, and called Don.

"Polar Express," he greeted.

"Where are you?"

"I just left everybody at the hotel, and I'm just pulling up in front of the building."

"You're here?" I asked, sitting up straight.

"I'll be with you in about five minutes."

And he was, a little after two in the morning. When he got off the elevator, I was in the hall waiting for him. I could tell he was exhausted by the sluggishness of his gait as he entered the hall. If I'd waited for him in the apartment, he could have hidden that from me. I rushed toward him and grabbed him up in a hug. I didn't realize that I'd lifted his feet off the floor until he laughed softly.

"You want to put me down now?" he asked.

"Oh, sorry," I said, loosening my hold on him only enough to let his feet land on the floor. "I'm so glad you're home," I gushed, then I started kissing him. His lips, his chin, his nose, his cheeks, and then I hugged him again.

"You think we should stay out here in the hall, or go inside?" he asked, laughing.

"I couldn't wait any longer," I admitted, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the apartment. "Are you hungry?"

"Do you mind if I just crash? I'm dead on my feet."

"Of course not, honey."

He stopped in the bathroom and then got undressed. When he got into bed, he shifted onto his stomach, and I took the hint to rub his back. I smiled as he groaned low in his throat there in the dark. His muscles were tense, but they were relaxing under my hands, and I knew he'd be asleep within moments. I kissed the soft skin on his shoulder.

"I love you so much," I whispered, kissing him there again.

"Love you too," he mumbled. I made sure he was covered up and I lay close to him, my arm loosely around his waist. I was glad my family was there for the wedding, but nothing was sweeter than having him home safe.

********

The sun was shining by mid morning the next day, and road crews were on top of the cleanup

project. While we'd been hit with a lot of snow, the blizzard had eased off sooner than predicted, and sure enough, Don was right. Everything was working out. The D.J. my boss's son came up with actually did have a good collection of music to choose from. He had everything from classic love songs to more modern selections, and even some of the old standards re-done by current artists. The flowers were delivered the day before, as promised, and the food was being prepared. My family was napping at the hotel where we put them up, and most importantly to me, my sweet Donald was sleeping safely in our bed, catching up on his rest.

We had lunch with my family at the hotel dining room, and I got to meet Manuel, Don's old Army friend, and his partner, Miguel. They were both gregarious, friendly guys, and I couldn't believe they'd gone through all that trouble to help us. Don and Manuel told a few old war stories when probed by Nicholas and a couple of my other cousins, and it's good that I paid attention, because it was the only time I would hear any real detail about Don's time in the Army until several years later, when he'd finally share with me the real story behind his discharge. Looking back, it was obvious Manuel knew that Don wouldn't talk about what happened, because he never made any reference to that tragic situation in front of me or my family.   I didn't realize then what it meant for Don to contact someone from that part of his past.

It was so good to see my mother and my grandmother, and really fun to visit with my cousins again. We were all close growing up, and we'd kept in touch over the years. I've never had an problem being at a gathering solo, or feeling out of place without a partner, but I felt so remarkably right sitting there with Don. He fit with my family like the missing puzzle piece.

********

Eleanor had two guest rooms prepared for us at the estate so we could have some time apart before the actual ceremony. Thankfully, Melinda, Nicholas's wife, was a good bow tie tier, and paid me a visit so I didn't have to face Timothy looking like I got dressed in the dark. The tuxes were pretty standard, black, with a white shirt and red tie and cummerbund. I thought I looked all right, but it was the first time in my life I actually stood in front of a mirror and played with my hair. Not combed it or touched it up for a date, but fussed with it like a girl on prom night.

Of course, if I didn't do that, I had to work on my vows, which I still hadn't written. I know that sounds awful, like I didn't care, or didn't know what to say. The truth was, I cared too much and had no clue how to choose what to say, how to narrow it down, find the right words... And what I feel for Timothy is so deep and so profound and so personal that reciting it in front of a bunch of people, even if I did like them, seemed wrong somehow, and just too...exposed.

So I didn't write them. Not even a note. Knowing Timothy, he had them all written out and well thought out and spell checked and proof read and edited and formatted. I wondered again why he wanted me, and I just hoped I could find the right words to make him understand how much I loved him.

There was a nice pre-ceremony reception going on downstairs, and guests were arriving. The roads were still dicey but passable, and we weren't going to have a sparse, failed event. Timmy was going to have his party, and I was getting Timmy, for the rest of our lives, and that was good enough for me.

When we made our entrance, and it was time to say our vows, there was beautiful music, and the lighting in the ballroom was dimmed. There were candles everywhere. It was all soft and gold and magical, and I couldn't believe how gorgeous Timothy looked in that glow. The guests were all there and there was a minister presiding, but I couldn't take my eyes off Timothy. He looked at me with such love, and even though we'd hired a photographer to capture the moments, I wanted to burn that look into my memory for the rest of my life. No camera would ever really capture it. It was part of a...current that buzzed between us like a live wire. Our love wasn't two-dimensional, matte finished, eight-by-ten in a frame. It was a living entity, and it was never more alive and magical than it was at that moment.

I was glad Timothy was ready and willing to go first in saying our vows. I knew whatever I said, he'd accept it with love, but I hoped it would be what he deserved to hear. I tried to stop focusing on my jitters about doing well with my vows and concentrate on what he was saying. That was another moment I didn't want to miss, to catch on an instant replay on our wedding video. I wanted to absorb every second of it and imprint it on my heart and my memory forever. He took my hands, and I hoped they didn't feel shaky to him. I wasn't nervous about marrying him. I was just nervous about screwing up this remarkable moment. That he'd know somehow that I hadn't written anything. That he'd be hurt and think I didn't care enough...

"You're my knight in shining armor and my hero. It's not that I expect you to always be able to fix everything for me, but you always want to. You can't stand to see something wrong in my world and not do something about it. But that's not what makes you my hero. It's the way you look at me, the way you touch me, the tone in your voice when you talk to me. I hear how much you love me, and I feel it, and it's in the dozens of little things you do that you don't even think about. When it's pouring rain outside and I'm dreading going to the bus stop, my phone rings and you tell me you're out front waiting to pick me up. You bring me flowers because you like to make me happy. You defend my honor, and I never feel like I have to face anything alone. I hope you never wonder if you're enough, because you're everything. You're smart and funny and kind and brave and handsome, and I love you so much I could never express it. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I'm so grateful for the chance circumstances that brought you into my life. I promise you my love and my fidelity, I promise to never forget how lucky I am to have you. I promise you my passion, my laughter, my honesty, my joys and my disappointments. I promise to share everything with you, and I hope you'll always share everything with me, because I love you, and there's nothing you could ever say or do that could change that."

"I'm not as good at writing things as you are. I mean, you write things that are good enough for senators and congressmen to use..." I was so nervous I thought I'd start babbling incoherently any minute. Then Timothy did the most a-traditional thing you could do during the vows. He touched my cheek and kissed me softly.

"Relax, honey. Just talk to me," he said, smiling. "You just drove twenty hours round trip in a blizzard to bring my family here. I know how much you love me."

That gave me a lump in my throat, but it also took a lot of pressure off me. In that moment, I knew that he knew that I didn't prepare anything. That I'd spent those hours on the road, leading the O'Connor-Callahan wagon train to Albany. And he didn't hate me for procrastinating and then getting caught short on the most important day of our lives. He wasn't even mad at me.

"When I first met you, I thought you were the most beautiful man I ever saw. I thought it was impossible that you'd be as beautiful inside as you were on the outside. You're so good and gentle...some people might mistake that to mean you're soft or a pushover. That would be a really big mistake," I said, and Timmy laughed. So did most of his family. "Your passion and that Irish temper that lurks right under the surface is part of what I love most about you. It's like having something sweet and something spicy at the same time." He was blushing a little, so I figured I should stop there. I could tell him more about his spicy side later. "You're my best friend...I can always count on you, and you want me the way I am. You don't want some fake version of me. I hope I can always live up to what you think of me, that I don't disappoint you." He just smiled and shook his head, and kissed my hand, and whispered "Never." "I promise to always look at other men and get a tingle of excitement," I said, and he gaped at me a moment. I hoped the photographer got that look on film. Then I added, "because they can't hold a candle to the man I love, who's committed his life to me - I already have the best. You do all sorts of little things for me all the time and probably aren't sure I notice, but I do. You bring light and color and beautiful things into my life, and if you weren't there, everything would go gray again. And I wouldn't want to live a moment without you. I love you, sweetheart, and I know I don't have a lot, but whatever I've got, it's yours, and I'll always be faithful to you and protect you, I'll probably always want to take care of you, even though you don't need someone doing that. I'll fight for your honor, because your honor is worth fighting for, because you're my life, my love, and my Valentine."

I was choked up, and Timmy was losing the battle with blinking away the moisture. So I hugged him. I didn't care if I was supposed to do that right then. It was the most intense, emotional, special moment of our lives, and I wanted him in my arms. It also gave me that chance to brush away his tears, to tell him how much I loved him, but to whisper it in his ear and press my forehead to his, and kiss the end of his nose and make him smile. He held my hand and gave me that beautiful smile and kissed my cheek, and whispered to me that he loved me, too.

"I hate to interrupt, be we do still have a matter of the rings to address," the minister said, and we and our guests had to laugh at that. Timmy produced my ring from his pocket and took my right hand in his.

"With this ring, I thee wed," he said, slipping the gold band on my right hand. I made up my mind that if anyone ever tried to take that ring off, they'd have to take the hand with it. I just stared at it, and I couldn't believe for a moment we were there. It was like the whole thing replayed in my head, from the moment that jerk felt him up on the barstool, to the first time I held him while we danced, to the passionate, spontaneous lovemaking that was our first time, to the temporary insanity that made me hurt him and almost lose him, to the way my heart was in my throat when I proposed, to the pride he took in growing and nurturing our cherry tomato plant, to how much I love sitting around doing nothing with him, to the prospect of living with him and loving him and growing old with him... "Don?"

"Oh, right, sorry," I fumbled, digging in my pocket, glad to feel the cool metal of the gold band there. I realized belatedly that I hadn't put it there. Timmy just looked at me and winked. God, what would I ever do without him? I held his hand and I just looked at it for a moment, treasuring him so much, before I finally slipped the ring on his finger. "With this ring, I thee wed," I said, and he gave me one of those big, full-on, Timothy smiles that I live for. So far I'd gotten tongue-tied, winged my vows and forgotten his ring, and he was still looking at me like I was the best thing in the world.

"I now pronounce you partners in life," the minister said, and nobody had to prompt me what to do next. Timmy didn't need much urging either. Our arms went around each other and we kissed with all the passion and intensity we felt at committing our lives to each other. For that brief moment, all there was in my world was Timothy, his embrace, his warmth, the taste of his mouth and the scent of his cologne and the feeling of his body against mine. I clung to him like I hadn't seen him for years, like we were going to be pulled apart forever if I let go. When I finally did let go, and we parted, some other tasteful piece of classical music was playing, and our guests were clapping, and we were married.

The government can take their piece of paper and stick it up their ass. Wallpapering Eleanor Carrington's ballroom with marriage licenses or tattooing Timmy's name on my butt cheek wouldn't have made me feel any more married to him.

********

The wedding couldn't have been more beautiful, and while we were short about a third of the guests due to the weather, the people who mattered most to us were there, and we still had close to a hundred. Senator Glassman and her husband, my current boss, Sean Donovan and his wife, and their son, since he'd found us our D.J., who was doing an outstanding job, were all there. My family, who were transported in safety and comfort through the storm by the man I love and friends of his who were generous of spirit enough to make that arduous trip. Fred and Cora were there, together, and I could see romance was in the air for them. I was so glad. Fred had been lonely without his wife, and Cora seemed to be having a great time with him. I marveled that he could love again. I looked at Don. I knew that I never could. He was my one and only, my heart and soul, the other half of me.

Dinner was sensational and the banquet room looked beautiful. Everything was red and white and heart-themed, right down to the red velvet cake with its white cream cheese frosting. I had a nice visit with my grandmother during dinner. She patted my hand with her bony little hand and told me what a good catch I'd gotten, and then she told me with a little giggle about all his nice muscles, because he'd swept her right off her feet and lifted her into that big truck he brought down to Virginia. She also told me he had the prettiest blue eyes she'd ever seen. My grandmother was a wise little lady, but I didn't need her to tell me that. She was always one of our greatest champions, and when she passed away, she left us enough money to pay off the ridiculous debts we'd incurred trying to fix up our first money trap and put a nice deposit on our current house.

My mother talked Don's arm off, and she dragged more information out of him about his childhood and his family than I'd gotten out of him since we met. My two elderly aunts weren't sure how they felt about the two of us kissing - they looked a little uneasy when we did it - but I feared for their brittle bones because my grandmother, their sister, picked up on that, and gave them each a swift kick under the table. They were her younger sisters and apparently, she had experience keeping them in line. My aunts never felt or expressed hate or prejudice toward us, they were just devout little Catholic ladies who loved their favorite grandnephew but still couldn't decide how they felt seeing him kiss a man.

We cut the cake, and fed each other for the benefit of our wedding video and the photographer and our guests who expected the ritual. We did our best to resist doing it our way - getting frosting all over our fingers and licking it off each other. We kept it G-rated.

Our first dance couldn't have been more perfect, and in a way, I was glad we didn't have a band, because I couldn't think of a better song than "Valentine" to start off our reception. We held each other close and swayed to the music, and other couples filled in around us. We've always loved to dance together, and I hope we're still dancing together when we're old and gray. I couldn't have asked for a better friend, husband, and life partner than my Donald. We've only grown closer over the years we've been together, like threads that have intertwined into a beautiful tapestry that would be nothing but shreds if they were separated.

We've had our ups and downs, we've argued and made up, and once in a great while, we've found ourselves taking each other a little bit for granted. But I never once have questioned if I was loved, and I've never felt alone. And while he's human and he's ticked me off now and then, Don's never let me down. I hope I haven't let him down either - I know I've ticked him off, but he has remarkable self control, and I can't remember him ever really raising his voice to me or saying an cruel word. He tells me I haven't let him down, either, and I hold that fragile heart of his in very gentle hands. He's so strong and tough and resilient, and yet breaking his heart would be surprisingly easy. He tells me I light up his life, that I'm his reason for being, and that I get better looking every year. I'm not sure I buy that last part, but he makes me feel like something amazing every time he looks at me. I live my life with him trying to live up to the adoring look I see in those incomparable blue eyes of his. And hoping I can even convey a tenth of what I feel for him in how I look back at him.

Even if the sun refused to shine

Even if romance ran out of rhyme

You would still have my heart

Until the end of time

You're all I need

My love, my Valentine...