What a wonderful world this could be, nancy!

March 19th, 2012, Indianapolis International Airport

The difference between Malibu and Evergreen had, at first for David, been jarring. Hell, the difference between Malibu and ANYWHERE else reached astronomically embarrassing proportions, as his hometown had the distinction of being full of artificially attractive rich people absolutely out of touch with the rest of the world. People in Evergreen didn't seem to smile as much as they did there- the town was just as full of heartbreak as it was with rapidly expanding familes, after all, and until recently David hadn't had much to be happy about either - but he chalked it up to an Indiana thing, such as calling soda 'pop' or talking more about basketball than he concievably cared to listen for. It wasn't like it was third world or anything, but he'd found himself dwelling on the weather more often than he would have liked to. Moving from the west coast to the midwest had been a big adjustment and still was.

That was why, as he parked near the terminal at Indianapolis International, he realized that he was worried that Nancy wouldn't like it here... and by some extension like him less for living so far from home. Resentment wasn't exactly the best way to start off an engagement unless one happened to be a character in a romance novel, and romance novels were never about engineers and architect's daughters. The stakes were high with this fiancee in particular - David knew Nancy fairly well and legitimately wanted to marry her, but he'd have been lying if he said that the whole thing didn't make him nervous. After all, the wife he'd chosen when he was younger had turned out to be a spectacular bust. The two that the professionals thought would work had barely met him before reneging (bless their little hearts for being honest) , and David half-thought at this point that maybe he just wasn't cut out to be in ANY kind of relationship that didn't involve the Home Shopping Network. But Nancy - well, Nancy was worth trying a fourth time, and he wanted it to work. And when David Ward wanted something, he damn well made sure it happened.

(The exception to this, naturally, were Kill Bill sequels 3 & 4. He could hope for them, but unless Tarantino had some sort of magical sparkly wish collector it was unlikely that it was happening until he was darn well ready, and David accepted this fact with relative grace and minimal bitching)

The airport's website had said that the flight was right on time and so was he, clipping the door to his car closed with seven minutes to spare. He had taken great care in selecting a dozen white roses from a florist that wasn't situated near the produce section of the nearest Kroger's; feeling a little awkward and archaic with bringing them in, he nevertheless decided to go for it. It had seemed like a good idea at the time and he would've felt even more silly handing them over in the car anyway. Besides, why shouldn't he bring Nancy flowers? It wasn't like she was going to smash him over the head with them.

.... well, probably not, anyway.

Mr. Ward found baggage claim with little difficulty, finding a spot near enough to the escalator that spat out travellers at an uneven pace that he'd be able to see her, balancing the bouquet in the crook of his arm as he tried to finagle his phone out the pocket of his coat.His mother had managed to send him five texts in the span of half an hour, all of which demanding if Nancy had landed safely and if he had brought any flowers for her and to remember to carry her luggage because evidently David was six and didn't know how to pick girlfriends up at airport ever. The flower text had been amended with one insisting that he get her lilies - David ignored both and replied with a terse "at the airport, ttyl. D-" After some thought, he opened up the text thread he had with his fiancee and tapped in a succinct-but-genuine, "hope you landed safely. ttys. D-"

Sorry Nancy-doll, that's about as gushy as engineers really ever get.

Nancy put on lipstick. Amidst the trembling from the plane on its descent and the nerves that caused her fingers to struggle to keep within the boundaries of her lips, she put on a bold red that screamed "I put myself together in longer than the fifteen minutes it will take to land this plane in Indiana." The plane itself had taken far longer than she'd actually hoped it would, having settled on the tarmac in California for an hour, to "refuel," though Nancy had to wonder why they hadn't done that before everyone had settled into their seats without any real source of ventilation. They'd made up half an hour of that time in the air, but Nancy still had to run like hell, rolling suitcase clicking along the tiles of the floor as she did, in order to reach her connecting flight out of Oklahoma.

But now, there they were. Indiana. Nancy couldn't say she'd ever dreamed about going to Indiana… what was in the state anyway? There couldn't be anything worth notice as far as the actual state was concerned… it wasn't as though it had any sort of city epicenter. No one flocked in Indiana for vacation, unless they were very old, or very poor. A random state… but one she was suddenly very excited to see.

She received very little satiation of her curiosity from the window of the plane… she could see the reflectors, and she counted them one by one until they disappeared down the tarmac, out of her line of vision. Her cheek smooshed against the glass, gracelessly, and when she pulled back, she could see a small smudge of lipstick there, which she carefully attempted to remove with her thumb. But rather than help, it just smeared the lipstick on better, and she finally gave up, hands folding in her lap.

This was it. And strangely enough, until this moment, Nancy hadn't quite realized what the hell was going on here. She was getting married soon, to David, and she hadn't even had the opportunity to let it sink in. She could feel the corners of her lips pressing tightly together, attempting to lift upwards, and she let out a slow breath through her nose. David had always been there for her. Always. This was just another way to be there for him. Her family knew his family… such a tragedy, with his father, really, but Nancy was willing to oblige in this near "facade" that they were putting on. Masks that Nan was unsure of whether or not they'd be removed once their purpose waned. Would she and David fall in love and live happily ever after? What a miraculous thing to say, she thought to herself, with a small smile of utter bemusement.

David wasn't in love with her, she told herself. She wasn't in love with him. That would come in time… and wasn't that the point of love anyway? True love grew over time, and had nothing to do with instant connections… even though Nan had felt one. It was different growing up. Back then, three years was one hell of an age difference… it actually mattered when you were the nine year old trying to tag along with the mature twelve year olds. It hadn't worked so well then. But time had done its trick, and there she was with red-stained lips, and a stomach full of butterflies, waiting for the "fasten seatbelt sign" to turn off and the door to the airport to open.

What should she do, she wondered? Oh God, she hadn't thought this far ahead. What would be appropriate behavior? She didn't even have a ring on her finger yet… and it wasn't as though she and David had a long-standing relationship. This was the first time they'd seen each other in some time… and suddenly, they were going to plan their future together. But a future, even though it was meant to be "forever," for now… did not mean that they had to force anything. Was she supposed to kiss him? Hug him? Shove her tongue down his throat? Shake his hand? She knew to take his lead… that was the ladylike approach, but it seemed like she had very little confidence now.

Nan's phone buzzed against her shoulder before she had a chance to remember she'd forgotten to turn it off. Oops… well. Too late now, and they didn't crash. She plucked her iphone from its place tucked into her left bra strap, and glanced at the text. It was a sweet message, albeit brief, and Nancy couldn't help but feel amused by the fact that he used netspeak. Who actually used netspeak anymore? She sent back a text, thumb moving along the letters quickly. "Landed. Waiting for them to open the door. See you shortly. Excited! -Nan"

When the doors opened, Nancy was out like a shot, heels clicking along with that same click from her rolling suitcase behind her. She could feel her breath catch, could feel those butterflies spreading behind her as though she was leaving them in the dust, and she reminded herself that she was going to be there soon. Very soon. "Compose," she murmured under her breath, and forced herself to do just that.

However, all composure drifted away completely when she stepped out of the terminal to baggage claim and saw David there, flowers in hand, waiting. Her fiance. With flowers. Oh God. Nancy squealed like a schoolgirl, and when she was close enough, took to a little run. She let her suitcase go and flung her arms around his neck with a little hop, as though to make it to his height. "You're here!" she exclaimed, as though it was any real surprise. In many ways, it was. Nancy forgot about everything else around her… right now, it was just her, David, and the flowers.

David wasn't naturally a poetic sort, but he would have sworn that the tides of disembarking passengers seemed to part for Nancy; then again it could have just have been a tangential stroke of luck that he looked up from his phone just in time to meet her eyes before she was off, which was the more likely explanation. Somewhat un-expectant of her sudden dash, Mr. Ward belatedly found his arms wrapping around her torso in a hug, careful not to crush the flowers he'd be holding for the last ten minutes like a lovesick moron. David wasn't really either of those things, but he would have been lying if he hadn't felt a little rush at the small, idyllic realities of that particular moment; the rustle of the fabric of her dress, the abandoned luggage several feet away, the way that she even smelled good even after hours crammed into a plane. There was something both familiar and frightening about holding her. Nan hadn't been as much as a constant in his adult life - not past highschool, anyway - and he'd always felt somewhat comfortable with her, but at the same time she'd grown from a pretty nifty thirteen year old into a beautiful, extraordinary woman. The fact that she'd actually come all the way to Indiana and be with him to ease his father's transition spoke volumes as to just how amazing she was.

Drawing back before the embrace turned uncomfortable for either of them, David slipped past to snag the handle of her carry-on and drag it to where she stood, apologetically trying to hand over the flowers once he realized that he'd just run off with them. Why no Nancy, these were David's walking roses and he totally didn't buy them for you at all, PFFT. "Sorry. These are for you - how was your flight?" Successful, obviously, as she'd arrived in one piece. It was still polite to ask and rude to NOT ask, so he moved onto a more relevant question. "Do you have any other bags?" Mr. Ward happened to be one of those people who really could live out of a carry-on for months and naively never assumed that no one else needed more than a few cubic feet to house their belongings. He certainly didn't mind waiting for the carousel to start or edging his way into the fray so Nan didn't have to - he just needed to keep talking so he didn't end up overthinking, which never ended well for him in the large majority of social situations.

David really wasn't the self-deprecating sort, having had a decently high opinion of himself since he'd cleaned up his California-stoner act a decade ago, but one had to admit that it was a strange situation to find oneself in: engaged to someone that you liked but didn't love and knew but didn't know. He cared for Nan on a certain level and had been somewhat surprised (and thrilled, or what passed for thrilled with engineers) that she'd actually agreed to his offer of engagement, but now that it had been made mostly official - sans a ring to announce their intent to marry, which David was working on - he just wasn't sure what to do or say. It wasn't like she was his girlfriend and there were only a few promises attached to their interactions as a couple ... the strings were very, very attached. He liked them that way even if it was a bit intimidating, but it made not wanting to offend his future bride a little more integral to his survival.

David tucked a hand into the pocket of his jacket, nudging his fiancee lightly with a shoulder as he tried to figure out which baggage carousel was most likely to be her flight's - it was a teasing but mostly affectionate gesture, trying to keep the mood light. "You look pretty," he stated quite matter-of-factly, as it was very much a fact.

Nan felt comfortable wrapped up in David's arms… like it was something that was meant to be… just hadn't quite made it there yet. She had to wonder if he was feeling the same. Maybe he wasn't interested, and this was all a clever (and sickeningly romantic) ruse for his father's benefit. Maybe, as soon as his father died, he would part ways with her. "Well, that was fun!" Something like that. But Nancy couldn't think that way. Not right now. Medicine was making advances every day… maybe his father would be alive for years. At least long enough for Nancy to walk down the aisle.

When Nancy felt David start to pull away, she relented, arms lowering, though her hands remained on his shoulders momentarily. "Sorr. These are for you--" he said, and Nan realized, for the first time, that he was offering her flowers. Her eyes widened… how had she not seen those before now? She'd noticed them, but not seen them, and it really hadn't registered yet that he was the type to give flowers. It was a very pleasant surprise for the domestic Nancy, who preferred stereotypical gender roles over the new. She took the flowers, lips pressed into a little smile, and looked up at David with eyes almost reddening and glassy. "For me?" Disbelieving. She'd been given flowers before… but this made her engagement real. Maybe she didn't have a ring, but this was almost as good. And more thoughtful. He had to get her a ring at some point. He didn't have to get her flowers when she got off the plan.

"My flight was fine," she answered, polite. In truth, it hadn't been that much of a "vacation." Apart from the air that only flowed through her vent with screeching so horrific it drew glances, there was the other "thing" that was screeching behind her. Whoever thought that babies made good traveling companions needed to be alone in a room with them for hours on end on a long trip, with no air. Nancy understood… and when she had children, she would probably do the same… but these weren't her kids. She had no ties to them. Nan had, instead, created a story for herself, to temper the frustration of the cries and whimpers and screams. The mother's entire family burned to a crisp in a fire in Indiana. She had no choice but to put the baby on a plane and fly out. There were funeral arrangements to be made. End of story.

"Fine," describing her flight, was probably one of the many times she would use the word untruthfully in their relationship, she thought. "Any other bags?" She let out a nervous breath of a laugh at that, pointing to the carousel. "You're going to be horrified by how many." She led the way, lifting the flowers to her nose to smell them, settling in front of the carousel with the proper origination listed in glowing letters. A nudge of David's shoulder, and he said, "You look pretty."

Nancy could feel a flush rising to her cheeks, a smile slipping over her features that she couldn't hide. For a moment, she couldn't look at him. Bashful. She was bashful. How the hell did that even happen? She let out a little giggle, half masked by the buzz from the metal in front of her, announcing its impending spindle. "Thank you." She paused, then glanced over at David, hand moving to smooth over the collar of his shirt. "You look nice, too." She dropped her hand, still grinning, and looked away from him again. "And you smell nice." Yes. This was the start of a great relationship. Flowers, a crush-worthy man, and an almost endless barrage of compliments.

(ASJDHAJHSDLKA RHEA I AM SO SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG T__T)

If there was one thing out of the many, many things David had to be worried about that he actually wasn't, it was that Nancy prooooobably wouldn't hate him for getting her flowers. Most rational people weren't offended by gestures meant out of admiration, as cliche as the whole thing was - kind of an archaic practice kept alive by etiquette, the wedding industry, and guys wanting to get laid. But David liked getting the women in his life nice things. In the long run, that whole childbirth slash getting paid 20-percent-less-because-you-didn't-have-a-penis slash everything-before-the-twentieth-century kind of amounted to a hell of a lot of roses owed, and he was entirely the type of man that liked to start paying his dues early; besides, he wasn't exactly the most effusive person on the planet and flowers spoke a language that wasn't especially hard to understand. Namely being that while it was theoretically easy to say "I love you", it was something else to spend $40 on dead sex-organs to prove it.

Of course, that wasn't to say that he wasn't pleased that Nan seemed happy to get them, and he smiled. Fine was good - it was something he took at face value, like most men until they'd had it hammered home that when a woman said 'fine' that they didn't always mean it. You're going to be horrified by how many. "Well, I have a compact. If there's no room we'll just leave it here." Realizing all too late that it might have been a while since Miss Powell had been exposed to his sometimes less than comedic sense of humor, David was quick to amend with a, "I'm kidding," silently issuing his gratitude when the carousel started whirring and clacking. Right. Just shut up and look around for a cart, mister. You're much better looking when you're being useful.

Thank you. You look nice, too. And you smell nice. David was a little embarrassed by the praise, but it seemed to soothe the part of him that wasn't sure how complimentary of his fiancee he should be. Sure, when they'd been close friends she hadn't even been legal - it had been a somewhat liberating shock to fully realize that Nancy was this striking woman in bold red lipstick that he was legitimately and appropriately attracted to and that she could flirt back at him. "Thanks, Nan." Momentarily distracted as a few other passengers started antsily pushing past, David tilted his head towards the conveyer (in his experience, they never actually started throwing bags down until everyone was good and restless and about to rip the head off the person nearest to them) and took Nancy by the hand to move closer. Or maybe he just wanted to an excuse to keep up contact with her - could've been that he just didn't want his petite fiancee to be swept away by impatient passengers, or it could be that, you know, he obviously had a crush on her and handholding was really the most appropriate thing he could do in the situation without turning it creepy. Either one. "Shout out when you see yours. I'm assuming it's a pass on the one with the confederate flag. Or the Dora the Explorer bag."

"How're your parents, by the way?" he asked over his shoulder, wondering how the Powells were taking Nancy's departure from sunny California to... well, Indiana of all places, which didn't have all that much going for it comparatively. His mom had flipped when he'd moved to Evergreen because it took him away from the ailing Mr. Ward Senior, despite The Vow having been her suggestion - she had a definitively selective memory that he'd long since learned to make allowances for (and also not to bother arguing with, because there wasn't a human being, living or deceased, that could convince Minnie Ward that she was ever, ever wrong). David certainly felt bad about it. He felt bad about Nan having to uproot to be with him as well, but even her presence now, in a crowded public airport where he could probably chew the air, was unduly comforting. Sure, things were a little awkward. Nothing was really a hundred percent official, announcements hadn't been made, and the ring he'd selected for her was still in Virginia of all places. She could buy a ticket back to Malibu without a word if she suddenly changed her mind. Dad could take a turn for the worse and things could get put on hold for months, or worse, cancelled. Now that she was here, though, it could all start coming together, and if they didn't organically then David was hellishly good at making things happen. "Did you eat? We can stop somewhere if you haven't. I know this horrible place where everything's covered in cheese."

Yes David that's exactly what every woman wants to hear.

So much was going on right now. Too much. Nan was reunited with an old friend, she was in a brand new town where she would be spending the next however-the-heck long of her life, and… she was engaged. She was engaged! She was engaged to a man she'd known as a child, but she could hardly say she knew, and he'd just given her flowers as he picked her up at the airport. Nancy was feeling excited, nervous, horrified… why hadn't she put on perfume before leaving the plane?… among so many other things she couldn't exactly pinpoint. She was pleased that he found her pretty, pleased that he was a gentleman enough to pick her up in the airport. Reuniting with David was everything she'd hoped it would be and more, so far… but she wasn't quite prepared for his "humor."

"If there's no room we'll just leave it here." Nancy felt frozen for a moment. Confused. What did he mean, we'll just leave it here? The airport? Why would they do that? The chances that the airline had lost her luggage were enough, but to leave the luggage here? That was just a horrible enough idea that Nancy almost assumed it was a joke. But jokes were meant to be funny, and if it was meant to be funny… it fell flat. Fell right in the realm of "he's trying so hard because he's nervous." His I'm kidding put it into stone that, yes… he was kidding. But Nan was still trying to figure out what exactly David's intention had been. To make her laugh? Maybe. She could appease him. She was, after all, his wife-to-be. She offered a small airy laugh, something that was supposed to be adorable she supposed, with no hint of pity. No need to make him feel horrible about himself. Like he'd struck out on Day Numero Uno.

She watched the bags go by in relative silence. Nooo, this wasn't awkward at all. It wasn't as though they were two people who'd met, fallen in love, and decided to live happily ever after. They were two people who weren't supposed to be together but were… not that Nancy was complaining. But she still wasn't entirely sure if David viewed this only as a business opportunity of sorts… or if maybe, for him (as it did for her), it reached just slightly deeper. Nan followed as David inched forward to the carousel, though she could tell that he, once again, was going to be a gentleman. This was perfect. This was everything Nancy wanted. She wanted to be the little housewife, vacuum and clean for him, cook his dinners, greet him at the door with a kiss, and tie his tie every morning before he left for work. And he could retrieve her luggage from baggage carousels like a bigshot, and open pickle jars. Men liked feeling masculine… and Nancy was more than happy to oblige.

She watched the luggage as it went past, observing the various ways that people attempted to make it obvious enough to see from a distance. Nancy had her own way of doing so, and she stood on tip-toe to point out a piece of luggage as it was spit from the "baggage abyss" at the opening of the claim. "There's one of mine," she said, coming back down to the balls of her feet. "Mine have the little pink scarves tied to them." Once settled, watching for David to get the first bag, she added, "My parents are wonderful. They send their regards… and want an invitation as soon as we set a date." She hesitated for a moment, studying the hem of her dress, before she smoothed it out completely. "I chose not to tell them why we decided to marry. I'm not entirely sure they would approve, though I know how antagonistic it sounds. I just assumed we could just as well keep it between the two of us."

The bags came staggered around. One, then another a few minutes later, then the next two side by side. The fifth and final bag came after another minute, nestled neatly between a guitar case and a backpack, and Nan let out a breath of near relief. "There. I can carry some of them to help you." She paused. A small bag of peanuts on the plane cost five dollars, and that had been more than Nancy had been willing to shell out. No pun intended. She was a little hungry, the pangs hitting her as soon as he mentioned "cheese," even though the concept of his suggested restaurant seemed absolutely unappealing. He was her fiance now… she would have to tolerate his odd behaviors and dietary habits. "I will trust you with my stomach," she said with a smile. "For now. Tomorrow, I'll pick up some groceries, and perhaps you can come over for dinner." She let out a little breath, taking the handle of one of the suitcases, and rolled it towards the door out. "Where are you parked? I think dinner at a horrible place with cheese sounds absolutely wonderful." It didn't, of course… it sounded as the "name" suggested. Horrible. But Nan let out a little breathy laugh, this one genuine, so at least David would know she had a fairly decent sense of humor. Humor was obviously important to him. Nancy could handle it.

"That's nice of them. We'll have to figure that out soon." He gave her hand a squeeze before releasing it to retrieve the handkerchiefed bag. The brief respite from the awkward was enough to allow him a moment's thought - was it something to be stigmatized, Nan's reason for being here? Certainly in Evergreen, where some marriages started off less personal than business arrangements, it shouldn't have been considered far out of the norm (and his mother in California had taken the news with no less than a thrilled screech) but maybe to the rest of the world it was out of the ordinary. Maybe it was even an insult to the institute of marriage to some.

After a certain point, really, this issue had became less of a point of embarrassment than a mark of knowing what he wanted in life. Was David going to spontaneously combust if he didn't get hitched to someone RIGHT NOW? No, he wasn't. Did he want to marry Nancy Powell for a variety of reasons, several of them less romantic than a refrigerator manual written primarily in German? Yes, he did. Was he going to feel bad for not investing three+ years of mind games with her when they'd come to the agreement that it wouldn't be completely horrible to eventually live together in holy matrimony? Of course not. Nancy was a good person and she came from a good family, and more importantly, he liked her. He had no intention of acting like they were any stranger than the multitude of people that voluntarily came to this little town in Indiana. There was no denying that it was weird by home's standards, but hell - this was home now.

Perhaps not feeling comfortable leaving it unspoken, David added, "My family really appreciates it, by the way. I appreciate it." He wanted to say that it wasn't the ONLY reason that he'd asked her, but what good would it do? As charming and wonderful as Nan was, David wouldn't have leapt into the whole marriage territory if it hadn't been the fact that his father had been inches from the grave for almost a year; and he held no delusions that if it hadn't been for that reason, she wouldn't have said yes either. Who wanted to be that asshole who wouldn't help out someone whose relative was dying of the Big C? He couldn't help but feel a sudden panic at the thought that maybe he'd cornered her into this somehow. "When we get to town you'll probably see how less weird it sounds there, though," David added in a way he hoped was assuaging, offering her a smile that tried not to make it obvious that he regretted having said it in the first place. It wasn't weird - this was them. He couldn't even really talk about the full extent of the strange anyway. Having been through the system twice with little luck and having been married to someone he'd known intimately for years before The Vow, maybe the only option was to go for the middle ground - an almost stranger that he'd known for a very long time. Or maybe his excessive level of failure in the love department before Nancy was fate or something. As an engineer, he didn't really believe in that sort of thing, but it was a nice thought - all that heartbreak in exchange for something that would (hopefully) last. "It's... you know, actually kind of creepy, the town. For a while anyway, then you get desensitized to the whole thing. Maybe I'm just desensitized." He let out a slightly bashful laugh and then a vaguely darker, "it's a lot like the town in The Stepford Wives." ... you know, Stepford. Derp derp. "Picket fences and kids riding their bikes ALL THE TIME, that sort of thing."

Eventually, as the parade of bags seemed to never end, David managed to find a cart and loaded Nan's luggage onto it - sans the one she'd taken to navigating. She definitely hadn't been lying about the number. Maybe he was a little horrified. Not by much, though.

"Level one, way, way back," he replied. One benefit of being raised near downtown LA - any airport was tame by comparison to LAX. Leading her in the direction of his car and grinning a little at her I think dinner at a horrible place with cheese sounds absolutely wonderful, David added, "We can save that for a special occasion. Italian sound okay instead? Unless you've got your heart set on a heart attack on a plate, in which case I'm game."

An eyebrow raised at Nancy's offer, more than a little surprised. She'd just landed and already she was inviting him over the next day? While David admired her for it, it seemed to alarm some part of him that was insisting that he wasn't being a good host and fiancee by even thinking of accepting it without a counteroffer. After all, she'd come here to marry him - it was just as much his responsibility to take care of her. "You don't have to do that - I can make something for you tomorrow. You've probably got a lot of unpacking to do." After all, he'd been settled in town for nearly six months and didn't have culture shock to contend with anymore. Orrrrrrrrrrr maybe Nan would just take to Evergreen much better than he did, which was likely because she wasn't an easily-weirded-out engineer. That kind of gave her the advantage in all the things.

There were far too many convoluted reasons that Nan agreed to marry David. Though they'd discussed them, part of her had to wonder if their arrangement would ever change. People didn't necessarily always marry for love… in fact, didn't love often complicate things? People who were in love had an extremely high divorce rate… because love is often quick. Impulsive. Even when love lasts, it was built on the grounds of qualities in the other person, and the other person was often sensitive to change. People grew up, they moved on. People were strange creatures. And what was to say, in the natural progression of a relationship, that people wouldn't change right out of love? Marriages, truly wonderful marriages, grew out of understanding and a mutual desire to make things work. And that's what this marriage was, wasn't it? It was a decision, a firm one, and so it wasn't one they were making out of the impulse of being in love. End of story.

But they could get there, couldn't that? Nancy didn't have any doubts from her end, as she watched David struggle with her baggage. She wondered if she should bring it up… mention their impending nuptials and what was behind it. It was something of a business arrangement at this point, wasn't it? So couldn't they just discuss it calmly, in a business like manner? They needed to work out the details… not only of their wedding, but of their life. Did he want this to last, even past his father's death? Was this something they were going to hold onto, cling to even, long past the "I do's" had been said and done? The details needed to be ironed out, but Nancy didn't want to be the one to bring them up. "Oh, so, when are we planning the divorce?" Not that Nancy expected there to be one. She'd always imagined herself as a housewife, someone her husband was glad to come home to, and damn it if she wasn't going to prove that she could be that woman. They would get married, and maybe at first it was going to be because of this "arrangement," or whatever the hell they wanted to call it, but it would slowly develop on its own. Wouldn't it? It had to. If Nan proved herself invaluable, then that's what she would be. Invaluable.

She didn't have to wonder for long, because David brought it up. He appreciated "it." The proverbial "it." The term used when there's an elephant in the room so large that you don't want to rattle it by saying its name. Nancy nodded once in agreement, wondering what the polite thing was to say to a statement like that. "My pleasure," or "Whatevs, ain't no thang" didn't quite seem to cut it. So instead, Nancy answered in the most honest way she could. "I'm looking forward to it." And she was. Regardless of what was behind the wedding, it was still a wedding. It was her wedding. It was almost awkward now, waiting for all of her bags, making conversation as though it would really make any difference in the long run. David described the town as "creepy." Something out of Stepford. What Nancy didn't say was how absolutely idyllic that sounded to her. All she'd wanted in life was a nearly Stepford existence… she'd wanted nothing more than to be that perfect wife, baking muffins, and vacuuming, the picket fence, all of it. The stereotypical "Honey, I'm home!" community, where she had a hot meal waiting on him when he came back home. So instead, she offered a polite laugh, then added, "It doesn't sound all that bad." He followed where he directed, heading towards his car. The fact that he was the one carrying the burden of pushing along her luggage was just proof that she was doing the right thing, being here. Chivalry wasn't even close to dead. Not even slightly. Maybe this marriage would mean something more.

She climbed into the car, buckling up her seatbelt, and glanced over with raised eyebrows. "You cook?" she asked, trying not to look surprised. She covered it with a pleased smile, and lifted a hand, dismissively. "Please. I'm going to the grocery store tomorrow. And my home won't feel like home until I've cooked in it. It'll be fun." She hesitated, debating. Was this a good time to bring up the wedding? They both knew it was going to happen… he'd just alluded to it. But there was something in the pit of Nancy's stomach that wasn't quite ready to put it all out there. Maybe she was terrified he'd be so weirded out about the whole thing that he'd say "screw it," and leave the little Stepford town she was so excited about exploring. She cleared her throat, and attempted to add, casually, "And maybe, during dinner, we can discuss… particulars." Like the dress. Or the flowers. Or the date. She left things vague… vague was good enough. And it was vague that was going to allow her an "out" if David had a panic attack in the car about the fact that she was bringing up marriage. Even though she hadn't even been the one to bring it up in the first place, she knew how men could be about these kinds of things. Best to assume she needed to tread lightly than to end up in a situation without a fiance, or husband, whatsoever.