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Auld Lang Syne: A Problem

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4 PM, December 31, 2008

Frowning, Major Edward Beck stared at the obviously happy couple in the photograph on the front page of The Jericho Record.  His wife had always liked small town newspapers with their recipes and stories about the spelling bee and their detailed police log of petty crimes or non-crimes.  'Where else are you going to read about a neighbor calling the police to report child abuse,' he could hear her chuckle against his neck, her breath - and then her lips - warm against his skin, 'Only to have the resolution be that a three year old hadn't wanted to take a bath and had screamed bloody murder when her father made her?'

There was certainly truth in this argument; their own daughter had hated taking a bath.  She'd hated change, really.  She'd scream when you'd changed her diaper, hating the fact that she was suddenly naked, and then - having adjusted to being naked - would scream when you would put her new diaper on.  But nobody had ever called the police over the baby's shrieks coming from Lieutenant Beck's, and back then they'd lived cheek to jowl, packed into junior officer quadraplex housing with its thin walls and echoing air ducts.

For some reason, newsprint was impossible to get still, and The Jericho Record was being photocopied onto good, old letter size paper, both sides.  The front page photo was therefore a little grainy, and for a moment Beck tried to convince himself that they didn't look quite that happy.  But they did.  He did, and she did.  Beck reached for his drink, throwing back the shot of whiskey in one gulp.  Still, he couldn't make himself stop looking at the picture or stop himself from reading the caption printed below it.  Jericho's own power couple: Heather Lisinski marries Jake Green in a lovely Christmas Eve ceremony.

The article continued from there, and for some reason Beck tortured himself by reading it all again.  The ceremony had been simple and elegant, according to the reporter, one Lindsay Davis whom Beck knew to be all of fifteen years old.  The couple had opted for 'mostly' traditional vows, which had been spoken by candlelight at four in the evening on Christmas Eve at the Main Street Presbyterian Church.  The groom's brother and best friend had served as co-best men, while the bride had asked their wives to stand up for her.  The groom's mother was quoted as saying 'I couldn't be happier,' and 'I only wish my husband had lived to see this day.'  A small supper had been hosted at Bailey's Tavern following the ceremony, after which, at the bride's insistence, the wedding party and guests had attended Christmas Eve services before the bride and groom had departed for a ten day honeymoon at an undisclosed location.  The couple would reside at 112 Chestnut Street with the groom's widowed mother.

Beck allowed an annoyed grunt.  Undisclosed location, indeed.  The Greens' honeymoon destination was currently the worst kept secret in Jericho.  Everyone knew that Jake Green had taken his bride to the family hunting cabin an hour or so northwest of town.  Heather Green nee Lisinski had more than once in the week preceding her wedding been overheard saying that she was looking forward to cross country skiing - which she hadn't done in years - and to learning how to snowshoe - which Jake had promised to teach her to do - during their time alone together at his family's cabin.  Naturally, these pronouncements were almost universally met with snickers and knowing looks and even outright declarations of 'yeah, sure,' from whomever Heather had been speaking with.  All Beck knew was that even thinking of Heather on her honeymoon gave him a headache.  And heartburn.  A headache and heartburn.  Dropping the paper onto the bar, he thumped his glass on the wood to get the bartender's attention, then hoisted it to indicate he needed a refill. 

Groaning to herself, Mary Bailey-Green acknowledged the major with a slight nod.  She picked up the whiskey bottle and moved toward him, stopping only to refill Emily Sullivan's glass along the way.  "Here you go," she told the officer, her tone conveying that she really didn't think this was a good idea.  But Beck didn't hear her tone; he was already lost once again in his study of the photo of the happy couple.


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5 PM, December 31, 2008

As Emily Sullivan stared absently into her glass of half-drunken whiskey, she hummed a song to herself under her breath. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of booming laughter. She swiveled on her stool to see that Jimmy Taylor had entered the bar with his wife Margaret. They were exchanging greetings with a few friends, and laughing far too loudly for the tavern's confines. Soon, they were walking towards the bar, occupying the stools near hers, Jimmy's hand on the small of his wife's back as she steadied herself on her seat.

Emily twirled herself around again to avoid the display of affection she sensed coming, and peered through the dim lighting for some other people to watch. As luck would have it, her eyes focused on Art Robson and Lucy Hale, sitting across from each other in the booth across the room. Their hands rested flatly on the table, overlapping and they were staring into each other's faces. Emily snorted. Who did that, besides characters in movies? The way people talked about Art and Lucy when they announced their engagement a few weeks ago, you would think they were characters in a movie. They were both refugees, her from Chicago, him from New York, and they'd met as they followed Roger across Nebraska. Emily didn't understand what was so special about their story. It seemed lots of couples who would never have met if not for the bombs were getting married and forcing their happiness upon the public at random these days.

Emily quickly downed the last of her whiskey, slamming the glass onto the bar. She waited for a few minutes, but Mary had disappeared in the back. She could hear Jimmy and Margaret laughing again, so she slipped off her stool, deciding to find something else to occupy her. Avoiding Art and Lucy's booth, her eyes swept the room. Music. That would help. She made her way over to corner of the room, already anticipating the un-romantic song she would pick.

Running through the selections in her head, she was only a few steps away from the jukebox when she looked up and found her way was blocked by Stephanie and Derek Hyde, their arms wrapped around each other, connected in an intense lip lock. Emily was suddenly and very forcibly reminded of those times in ninth grade when she'd found her locker blocked by a similar scene. Married, three kids, and an apocalypse later, Stephanie and Derek seemed like they could still be those high school juniors who had been so captivated by each other that they'd been oblivious to the students and teachers roaming the halls. Emily sighed, decided it was not worth trying to interrupt, and turned around.

At the pool table, she was met with an even more sickening sight. Scott Nystrom, one of her students from the year before last, stood behind Allison Hawkins, one hand on her waist, his other on the pool table, whispering in her ear. Allison was leaning over, readying her shot, pretending to be ignoring his advice but smiling all the while. She made her move, the pool balls scattered, and she made a small triumphant gesture with her fist. She turned to Scott, who had slid both hands to her waist now as he smiled and said "Nice shot, Allie!" Emily expected Allison to shrug it off. The Allison Hawkins she knew would have. But this Allison playfully tapped Scott on the chin with one finger before stepping to the side so he could take a shot. He raised his cue to the table, but he was still looking at her and grinning.

Emily groaned. She was beginning to despair that there would be no good distraction for her this evening. She dodged around another pair of high school sweethearts from her own days at Jericho high, leaning against each other as they walked to the bar, and then another pair of former students dancing closely to a slow song. At last, she spied her salvation. The dart board was free.

Mary was wiping glasses when she noticed Emily Sullivan playing a bizarre game of darts in the corner. She paused mid-wipe. Emily was mumbling to herself, fixing various parts of the room with a glare, and turning to heave another dart at the board. Most were landing on the wall or the floor. After a moment's hesitation, Mary quickly made her way over to the dart board. As she approached, she could hear Emily saying, "Only meeting after their planes crashed, and suddenly they're the town's sweethearts. What's so great about falling in love after the end of the world anyway?"

Mary cleared her throat loudly, but Emily continued muttering. "And now even children are falling in love over the pool table. Children. They don't know what they're getting into, no." She lobbed another dart. It hit the wall at an angle and fell to the floor.

 "Emily."

Emily turned, and after she saw who had interrupted her, she narrowed her eyes at the bartender. "What? What's your problem? You don't have any problems. You know why?"

Mary sighed. She knew from experience she was about to find out.

 "You're married. Someone wanted to marry you. You get to live happily ever after. Even if it is with Eric Green." With a nod, as if she were approving such a match, Emily held up a dart. "Married to Eric! Mary married Eric! And when you had a bouquet to throw, you threw it at her! But what a surprise, you're one of them now, those oh-so-happy Greens! I should'a known you'd stick together. So you can't talk, about problems!" For a second it was unclear just what her intended target was, but she swung her arm wildly and threw it at the dart board. It was several feet off, and only several feet from another patron. Mary took her chance.

"Give me those!" she said, wrestling the remaining darts from Emily's hands, all the while listening to more of the anti-marriage diatribe. When she finally made it back to the bar and stashed the handful of darts underneath a box, Mary glanced back at Emily. She was fast becoming her second most disruptive customer of the evening, but at least she no longer had her hands full of sharp objects.


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6 PM, December 31, 2008

Mary was sure she'd never been so glad to see her husband.  At the very least she'd never been so glad to see Eric since he'd become her husband just over three months previously.  Catching her eye, he smiled at her, jogging the rest of the way across the tavern.  He came around the bar and pulled her into his arms, hugging her and kissing her 'hello'.  Mary clutched at his coat.  "Thank God you're here," she groaned against his shoulder.  Lifting her head she made a face.  "We've got a major problem, and you're just the man to fix it," she claimed.

Eric frowned, cupping her face with one cold hand.  "What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly serious.

She shook her head and pushed him not so gently, backing him up into the corner.  "Him!" she whispered fiercely, pointing at Beck, who sat hunched on his stool, scowling at his empty shot glass.  "He just sits there drinking and looking mad and mean, scaring off all my customers!  He came in three hours ago with a copy of The Record, and he won't stop staring at the picture of Heather and Jake from the wedding," Mary complained, rolling her eyes at her husband.  "It's creepy, and I think he cried once, and it's bringing the whole place down!"

"Well, it does seem kind of dead in here," he agreed, letting out a frustrated breath.

"And then there's her," Mary groaned, directing Eric's attention to Emily, who was sitting on the other side of the bar, an equally mean look on her face as she contemplated her own drained glass.  "She's drunk too!  Plus, she keeps trying to assassinate my customers with darts when she isn't busy spouting off anti-marriage rhetoric and being disgusted by post-bombs romance and vilifying the entire Green family.  And, she's got a copy of the paper, too, only she's drawn a mustache on Heather and horns and a tail on Jake."

"Sweetie -" he tried to interrupt, but it was to no avail.

"Eric, you've got to do something," she insisted.  "We don't have the Super Bowl or March Madness or NASCAR or the World Series anymore. We don't have golf anymore, even though, really, you and your Dad were the only ones who ever watched that.  What we do have is New Year's.  This is our biggest night," Mary reminded, wringing his hand between both of hers.  "But as long as we've got these two here, being all mopey and mean and trying to kill people, we're never gonna do the business we should be doing.  The business we need to be doing."

"Okay then," he declared, his expression hardening with determination.  "I'll take care of it," he decided, shrugging out of his coat and handing it to his wife.   Mary was right; sure, he was still deputy mayor, and some day when Gray Anderson died or retired, he'd probably get to take his place as Jericho's mayor, but what little economic security they had in this new world was all tied up in the tavern and they had to protect that.  Eric squared his shoulders and gave her a quick kiss - "For luck," he told her - and then turned and marched forward ten feet.  Glancing between Emily and Beck, he sized up their two recalcitrant patrons. 

Emily, he decided with a nod of his head.  They'd known one another nearly all their lives, and Eric felt like he could reason with Emily, felt like he could understand where she was coming from.  He liked his new sister-in-law and considered Heather to be a friend.  She was good for Jake and, strangely, they worked, though she was obviously too good for his brother.  However, Eric couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Emily.  He'd tried to make things up to April, and he felt that they had made their peace before she'd died, but still ... helping Emily come to terms with Jake's choice - even if it had been more than a year since their rather spectacular break-up - would be like doing a little extra penance ... kind of like taking out a small, karmic insurance policy. 

Pasting on a determined yet considerate smile, Eric turned and strode toward his brother's ex.  She stared at him, her gaze narrowing as he approached.  "Emily -"

"Drop dead, Green," she growled, glaring.

Eric stopped in his tracks and hastily reconsidered his options.  He glanced right, evaluating Jericho's lame duck, figurehead military governor.  The preceding eighteen months had certainly not been kind to the proud army officer, a fact that was eloquently illustrated for Eric when the major, after smoothing one shaky hand over his copy of The Jericho Record, collapsed face down on the bar, sobbing softly.

"Okay then," Eric muttered under his breath as he executed a quick about face turn.  His head hanging, he shuffled - defeated - back toward his wife.  "I - uh - sorry, sweetie," he apologized, obviously embarrassed.

Mary offered him an understanding smile and patted him on the shoulder.  She couldn't help it; she loved him so much.  "We'll - we'll figure something out."


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7 PM, December 31, 2008

A gust of cold air signaled the arrival of two more customers. Waiting until Mimi had entered and then shutting the door quickly behind him to keep out the blowing snow, Stanley announced, "Okay, the party can start now!"

"I'd say so. Happy New Year!" said Eric, quickly coming over to his friends.

They shook the snow off their clothes, exchanging breathless greetings. "Your coat, my lady?" asked Stanley. Rolling her eyes just a little at his dramatic display of chivalry, Mimi pulled off her oversized coat and watched him retreat to the corner with the hooks.

"Non-alcoholic drinks this way," said Eric. Mimi followed him over to the bar, where she spied her friend distractedly sorting bottles.

"Happy New Year!" exclaimed Mimi. Mary looked up, quickly smiling. "Hey! Happy New Year."  She hastily hugged her friend, and then glanced across the bar.

"Oh! Oh, kicking again!" exclaimed Mimi. "Here, feel!" she grabbed Mary's hand and held it to the swell of her stomach.

"Beautiful," said Mary, not looking away from the patron slumped at the end of the bar.

"Always after sunset. Stanley's already despairing that she'll be a night owl like me." Mimi stopped, puzzled by her friend's inattentiveness. The last dozen times she'd shared the baby's kicking with her friends, they had all exclaimed over the miracle. Letting go of Mary's hand so it dropped, Mimi followed her gaze. "Alright, what earth-shattering event is happening over there?"

Eric had poured Mimi a glass of cider and he handed it to her. "Ah, the Major is single-handedly dragging down the evening."

Mimi gulped down some of her drink. "What's he doing? Target practice with your darts?"

"No, she is," said Eric, motioning over to the other end of the bar where Emily was leaning precariously on her stool.

"Or was. I hid them," said Mary.

"So he..." Mimi trailed off as the Major let out another strangled sob, wiping his nose on his sleeve. She exchanged a glance with Mary, wrinkling her nose.

"Hey, isn't this supposed to be a party?" asked Stanley, coming up behind them and putting an arm casually around each of their shoulders.

"Yeah, soon as we get rid of him," said Mary through gritted teeth.

Stanley followed the women's gaze in time to see Edward Beck bury his face in the picture he clenched in his hands.

"Is that -"

"The Record," said Mary.

"The wedding picture?" asked Mimi.

"He's been staring at it all night. And scaring off customers," said Eric, stepping around to stand on Mary's other side and stare at the major along with his friends.

"And this is supposed to be the party of the year!" said Mimi.

"Yeah, someone should go talk to him," added Stanley.

Mary and Eric exchanged a glance. "I tried," said Eric, a beleaguered expression on his face.

Mary slid her hand to his arm. "We both did. I don't know if anyone can talk to him, in that state."

"Well, I will!" said Mimi. "He is not ruining one of my last big nights out. And he is not going to do that, to my friends."

"Do what?" asked Stanley, with just a hint of a smile on his lips as his wife grew more resolute.

"That -" she gesticulated towards Beck, who was now, it seemed, pointing at his paper and describing his woeful tale to an unfortunate bar patron. "With the picture, and the staring, and the scaring off of customers. No, he's not going to ruin the night!"

She thrust her cider into Eric's hand and, nodding her head once in the direction of her friends, started marching across the floor.
 
Stanley folded his arms and watched her retreat with keen interest. Eric started to say something, but Mary said, "Shh." All three fell silent and watched their friend.

Lorraine Carmichael, who had been waiting at the bar while her husband Harry was in the bathroom, was the first to look up from the copy of The Record that the major had pushed in her face. She saw the imposing figure of a very business-like and very pregnant Mimi Richmond towering over them, her arms crossed and her foot tapping. Beck lifted his head a moment later, moving with the slow motion of the morosely inebriated.

"Excuse me," said Mimi in a dangerously calm voice.

Lorraine would later thank her savior, but for now, she mumbled an excuse and made a hasty retreat. Beck pulled the now partially crumpled picture towards him and blinked up at Mimi.

"What can I do you for - for you do - do for you, ma'am?" he asked.

"You can stop crying over my friends' picture, stop creeping people out, and stop scaring away my friend's customers!" She put a hand to her belly. The baby had emphatically kicked as she punctuated her words.

Beck looked up at her in silence for a few moments, a strange look on his face. Having not gotten the instant reaction she had been hoping for, Mimi felt herself losing a little bit of the determination she had had when she first set out on her heroic quest. Especially when the Major's eyes began to well over. Especially when he lurched towards her.

"I didn't mean to...You just don't understand!" he choked, grabbing her hands in his. "And why should you, have to know this kind of pain? No one should! And you with a baby on the way. A beautiful, little baby..."

Mimi tried to wrench her hands out of his grasp, and he collapsed into sobs again. She wanted to carry out her task, and she tried to shove her discomfort at his unwanted touch aside. "Look, I'm sure you feel bad, but could you go somewhere else to let it all out? These people are here to have a good time."

"I shouldn't be ruining it for them then. I should let the happy be happy. And you, with that beautiful miracle growing inside you. You're just so beautiful." He pressed both his hands against the rounded part of her belly.

Mimi doubted she looked very beautiful as she seethed and glowered. Across the room, Mary gasped, Eric's eyes widened, and Stanley took a quick step forward, though Mimi was already shoving his hands from her as quickly as she could. "Don't touch -" she started to say, but he was still talking, and still reaching.

"I had a beautiful baby once," Beck continued, oblivious to the horror his contact with Mimi's beautiful baby had caused. "Her name was Alexandra. Do you have a name for your child yet?"

She continued to push his hands away and he continued to speak in that horrible anguished voice. "My poor girl, gone forever. You take care of yours."

As Mimi recoiled from the touch of the man who had been in charge when her little sister had been killed, who had bulldozed the town as her family struggled to keep their heads above water, she could only think to sputter, "I - I think I'm having a boy."

"A boy!" She immediately regretted her choice in words. "Oh, to dream about sending a boy out into the world." His face was crumpling quickly and Mimi wondered how much longer she herself would last. "I had dreams once! But they're all gone! Gone!" His hands had found the place where Mimi's child kicked again, and as he dissolved into tears, he leaned his face against her too.

Beck sobbed into her stomach, right up against her child, his tears wetting her shirt. From their place across the bar, her friends were frozen in horror, but Mimi reacted swiftly. She stepped back, lifted her right hand, and slapped the Major across the face.

As much as he had been sobbing earlier, he was now completely silent. He didn't even raise a hand to his stinging cheek. Mimi stood up to her full height and said in as firm a tone as she could manage, "I said don't touch."

She turned her back and stalked over to where her friends were staring at her in amazement.

"Mitigating circumstances," Eric sputtered finally. "You were provoked -"

"Who cares?" exclaimed Mary. "It was awesome!" she added, as Stanley shouted, "That's my wife! Mother of my child!" He high-fived Mary, and then grabbed Mimi in a hug, planting a huge kiss on her forehead.

Mimi leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment, before pulling away to look apologetically at Mary and Eric. "Sorry, but I just couldn't. You know how I feel about the touching and the people who aren't invited -"

"Yeah, no, for sure," said Mary quickly, and Eric nodded.

"We'll just have to figure another way to save the night," said Mimi.

"Excuse me, can I get another drink?" came a voice from some distance away. All four turned to look. Emily was waving her glass in the air. Mary gritted her teeth.

"Hey, let me try this one," said Stanley.

"Are you sure?" asked Mary. It amazed her every time she saw Stanley pick himself up and reach for happiness again whenever he got knocked down by life. After Emily's earlier ranting about happy couples, she wasn't sure it would be fair to subject Stanley to such negativity, as he was still grinning over his wife's adept handling of the incident.

"Yeah, I figure it's my turn," he said.

Casually, he made his way over to Emily, who was still trying to attract the attention of someone who could fill her glass, but it was hard to tell who, as she was saying, "Can I get another server too? One who is not a Green?"

Stanley cleared his throat. He had never gotten along swimmingly with Emily Sullivan, but he'd known her forever. That had to count for something. "Emily."

She turned around, as if expecting someone else at first, and her face fell quickly. "Oh. It's you."

"Hi. Happy New Year," he said with a small smile, trying to impress that he meant it.

"Happy," she said, almost as if it were a question. "For some people I guess."

"Well," he said, searching for whatever he might say next. "Things have been rough this year, for sure, but still, I'm sure you have some things to be happy about, and -"

"What are you doing, Stanley? You don't care about how happy I am," said Emily.

"That's - that's not true," he said, firming his expression into one of righteous indignation. He had never wished ill of Emily Sullivan. Perhaps he hadn't made great efforts to make her life pleasant over the past year, but he hadn't done that for lots of people. Just making sure Mimi was okay, and that he himself was coping, had been difficult. It didn't mean he didn't care about the others. "Of course I want you to be happy. But Emily, you have to make yourself happy."

"What do you know?" she asked fiercely.

He paused. What did he know? A lot. Did he want to go into it with an irate, drunken Emily Sullivan as his wife and friends waited for the fun to begin? "Look, if you're going to be that way -"

"Why don't you just go back to your stupid happy wife and your stupid happy baby and your stupid happy life!" she spat.

Stanley blinked. For a moment it looked like he might become as irate as her, but instead, he smiled. "Think I will. Thanks. And you have a happy year."

He spun around and walked away, Emily looking on in shock for a moment before turning back to her empty glass.

Having witnessed the scene but not the words exchanged, Eric, Mary, and Mimi looked at him expectantly. "How'd it go?" asked Eric.

"She gave me a suggestion; I took it," said Stanley, putting an arm around Mimi. "I love you," he said, kissing her. "You too," he said as his hand brushed over the swell of the baby. He placed a quick kiss on her stomach too. "But I'm sorry, I don't think I convinced her to stop annoying everyone."

Mary gave him a sympathetic grimace, Eric sighed, and Mimi shook her head. "It's okay," said Eric quickly.

"She's just - I've never seen her in this bad a mood. At least not since junior prom when Jake caught her dress in the car door."

Mimi patted him on the arm before putting both her hands on her belly. "Jeez, the kid hasn't stopped since. He didn't like it either."

"Or he wanted to hit the guy who was annoying his mother too," suggested Eric.

All four of them turned to look at the Major once more. He had collapsed onto the bar, his head lolling to the side, the picture of the wedding on the bar under his head.

"There has to be a way," said Eric. Each of the friends narrowed their eyes and thought hard.


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8 PM, December 31, 2008

"I gonna hafta kill Gray," Eric complained, gritting his teeth. 

Mary placed two bottles of beer on a tray and turned around, throwing her husband a sympathetic smile as she reached for some glasses.  "It'll be okay, hon," she assured. 

Gray Anderson, it seemed, had developed a small crush on Gail Green.  His pursuit was the talk of all of Jericho and Eric was fuming, having just heard the story of how his mother, warned by Kenchy Dhuwalia of her improbable suitor's arrival through the med center's west entrance, had barely escaped out the east door.  Luckily, Gail had managed to flag down Bill in the staff parking lot and had secured a ride with the deputy, speeding out of the lot just as Gray had run out of the building after her.  Gail and her knight in dull khaki were now installed in a booth with Stanley and Mimi, awaiting their drinks.

"I can't believe him!" Eric continued.  Mary didn't think he'd heard her at all.  "A week ago, everything was perfectly normal, but now...." He trailed off, emitting a frustrated snarl.  "He asked me what her favorite color, flower, book and dessert were!  Can you believe that?" Eric seethed.  He looked at his wife then, anticipating her response, but she had none, her attention centered instead on the lemon she was slicing on the small shelf under the bar.  "What are you doing?" he asked with a sigh, his indignation dissipating some, if only for the moment.

"I'm making an amaretto sour," she whispered in return, glancing around quickly - furtively - to make sure that no one else had heard her answer.  Dale Turner had developed into quite the wheeler and dealer, and having thrown in with him early, Mary was now reaping the benefits.  In addition to cases of a microbrew beer from Idaho and wine from Napa, her last shipment had included a number of liqueurs she hadn't seen since the bombs and a case each of lemons and limes. Still, her stock was limited as she wasn't prepared to start mixing drinks for everyone.  "It's your Mom's favorite," she explained quietly, scanning the room while she rubbed lemon juice along the rim of a tumbler beneath the cover of the bar.  "Just a little New Year's surprise."

"Her favorite?" Eric inquired, "Really?"

"It sure better be," Mary replied, dipping the glass in a saucer full of granulated sugar.  "Your parents used to meet here sometimes for drinks, and if your Dad was running late, which he usually was, he'd call ahead and order her an amaretto sour with his apologies," she explained.  "After awhile, she knew what it meant when she saw me coming.  She'd be annoyed, but," Mary shrugged, measuring the amaretto into a shaker, "She was always happy by the time they left.  And she always finished her drink."

"Well, whatever you do, don't tell Gray about that," he muttered, crossing his arms and shaking his head.  "I just don't get while all of a sudden he's - he's -"

"Hot for your mother?" Mary teased gently, giving into a chuckle when her husband's eyes bugged out comically.  "She's still an attractive woman, Eric," she reminded, attempting to shake the cocktail mixer - not quite successfully - at hip level.  She glanced toward the circular booth in the corner where her mother-in-law sat, safely ensconced between Stanley and Bill.   "I wouldn't pick Gray for her either, but it has been two years -"

"A year and a half," he grumbled.

"And, she's not interested in Gray even one little bit," she comforted, watching as Mimi, bracing herself against her husband's shoulder, levered herself to her feet and then waddled toward them.  "But you know, it wouldn't be the end of the world if she did ... move on."

Eric closed his eyes, his expression pained.  "I need a drink."

"You want another beer?" Mary inquired as, still shaking his mother's cocktail with one hand, she moved to add another bottle of beer to the tray she was preparing. 

"Better not," Eric answered, waving her off.  "I mean," he smiled somewhat wolfishly, "We are still on for our own celebration later, right?"

Mimi, coming into range just in time to overhear Eric's inquiry, suppressed a groan.  She loved her friends - she and Stanley even planned to ask them to be their child's godparents - but there were some things she just didn't need to know about them!  "Well, we still have that 'near beer' in the back if you want," Mary reminded her husband, offering Mimi an apologetic smile.  "And, get a jar of maraschino cherries, please.  I need 'em for your mother's drink."

"Be right back with the cherries," he agreed, slipping an arm around Mary's waist and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head before turning and heading toward the back of the tavern.

"Another cider?" Mary asked her friend. 

"Sure," Mimi sighed, resting both hands on her pregnant belly.  "That can be my third and fourth trip to the toilet."

"Well, it's the homestretch, right?" Mary encouraged, arranging the other items on her tray to hide Gail's drink.  "Less than a month to go."

"Yep," Mimi agreed, already starting to shuffle around the bar, heading for the restroom in the back.  "See you when I get back in ten, fifteen minutes."  Rounding the corner, she gave Major Beck a wide berth, looking toward the tavern's entrance when the door clattered loudly open.  Gray Anderson appeared at the top of the stairs, his eyes wild as he scanned the crowd.  Shaking her head, Mimi decided to give the mayor a wide berth, too.

Gray Anderson was a man on a mission.  He'd waited twenty minutes after Eric Green had left for the evening, unable to concentrate, pacing his office, thinking about her.  Gail  Green.  For the last week, he'd been unable to get her out of his thoughts.  He'd peppered Eric with questions about his mother until the younger man had grown suspicious of - and then hostile to - his inquiries.  Gray had realized then that he'd have to be more discreet in how he expressed his interest and growing affection for Gail.  It was a tough order though; he wanted to sing his admiration from the rooftops. 

He hadn't expected to find the woman of his dreams in Gail.  They had known one another for more than a quarter of a century, and while he'd always recognized that she was intelligent, kind, good looking and steadfastly loyal to those she loved, he'd also always known her as the wife of Johnston Green, his longtime political rival.  But then - unexpectedly - he'd been invited to the small wedding reception given in honor of Jake and Heather, and he'd stood next to Gail as they all waved the bride and groom off on their honeymoon.  She'd taken his arm to steady herself at one point and there was just something in her gentle touch which called to him.  He'd patted her hand, and before he'd known what was happening, the words spilled out of him.  "Johnston would have been proud."  Gail had smiled at him, thanked him, and then for just a second, had allowed her head to rest against his upper arm.  The moment had been magical, and now Gray just couldn't get her out of his head.

His eyes came to rest on the unusual sight of Stanley and Bill standing, shoulder to shoulder, in front of the corner booth, acting almost as a screen for its occupants.  Gray shook his head.  There was just no understanding those two.  But, he remembered, frowning softly, Bill's patrol car had been speeding out of the parking lot when Gail had disappeared from the clinic, and now Bill was here....  She had to be here, too, of that much Gray was certain.  He had already driven by the Green house but it was dark and locked up tight, and with Jake and Heather still on their honeymoon, Bailey's Tavern was the next logical location.  Gail was, after all, as devoted to her sons as she had been to her husband, and not likely to miss the opportunity to celebrate New Year's with Eric. 

Watching as his deputy mayor - a can of 'near beer', of all things, in one hand - trailed a step behind his wife who was carrying a tray full of drinks to the corner booth, Gray decided his instincts were right.  Gail was there.  He didn't bother to contemplate why Stanley and Bill were on guard duty or why she'd be hiding, and instead sprang immediately to action, intent on continuing his pursuit.  His concentration was so fierce, his tunnel vision so complete, that he didn't see Emily Sullivan until he'd smacked into her.  Instinctively, Gray reached out to catch the young woman, who seemed to collapse in his arms.

"Mayor," she tittered, fluttering her eyelashes in his direction.  "Gray," she amended huskily, her hand making its way - rather proprietarily - under his coat. 

"Emily," he acknowledged, frowning softly and taking a step back.  She was, he was pretty sure, drunk.  "Miss Sullivan," he muttered disapprovingly, lifting her hand from his chest.

She was undeterred.  "You're an important man, Gray," she declared with a purr, practically pressing herself against him.  "So distinguished.  Handsome.  I've always felt a - a connection between us," Emily confessed then, offering her best seductive smile as she snaked an arm around his waist.  "Ever since the day you were shot and I applied pressure to your wound," she explained, squeezing his bicep affectionately.  "Do you remember that day, Gray?"

"Uh, yeah, of - of course," he replied, stumbling over his words. 

He had that 'deer in the headlights' expression that Emily was quite used to seeing in the eyes of men when she addressed them romantically.  She preferred that reaction; it meant they were malleable.  Her smile grew.  "What's such an important man like you doing single?" she asked, leaning - if it was possible - closer.  "All alone?"

"I'm - I'm -"

"You should be married.  You need a wife to help ease all your burdens," Emily informed him, twining her hands around his neck.  She allowed a contented sigh when after a second's hesitation he let his hands rest on her hips, if only to keep them both from falling over.  "And, children.  Don't you want children, Gray?  I want children," she declared loudly.  "And I just know that you'd make a wonderful father."

Mimi, making her way back to the table after her trip to the restroom, shook her head, wondering yet again at her timing.  She could only hope that once she gave birth she would stop waddling up in time to hear conversations she did not want to hear! 

"I've been - I've been fixed," Gray announced, trying to extract himself from the iron grip Emily had on him.  "My third wife, she insisted."

Making a strangled noise, Mimi hurried as fast as she could manage away from the truly odd couple.  Not taking quite as much care in her flight away from Gray and Emily as she should have, she came within hearing if - thankfully - not touching distance of Major Beck.  The sniffling army officer caught her eye, letting out a soft sob.  "A baby," he blubbered, "A child.  New life.  It's so beautiful."

Mimi glared in return and then turned and stomped - sort of - toward her table.  Already though, everything she'd heard was starting to fall into place.  Allowing Eric to assist her, she slipped into the booth.  "You know our two problems?" she asked, accepting a glass of cider from Mary as she cocked her head in the general direction of Emily and Beck.  "Well, I think I may have a solution...."

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

To continue in Auld Lang Syne: A Plan

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

Auld Lang Syne: A Plan

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
9 PM, December 31, 2008f

The inside of Bailey's tavern was beginning to get more crowded as the night grew darker. The room was now occupied by men and women just starting the night off; nurses and volunteers from the med centre, a few new border patrol recruits, barely out of their teens, half of Jericho's population of former ASA soldiers, and even more sickeningly affectionate couples.

The seven people seated at the round booth in the corner didn't seem to take notice of the rest of the room, with the exception of the bartender herself, who glanced around at her customers every so often. The others were leaned in closely, staring with deep concentration at their table.

Aside from their empty glasses and beer bottles, and a long forgotten bowl of spinach dip missing only a mouthful from the top, the only objects gracing the table were a set of glass salt and pepper shakers. There was nothing extraordinary about them - they were standard issue at any establishment serving food - but all eyes in the group were trained on them.

"So our goal is to make him," said Bill, grasping the pepper shaker in his hand, "think she's deep, and her," he held the salt shaker, "think he's sane."

"In a nutshell," said Eric.

"And this is all because they're both terrorizing the entire bar?" asked Gray Anderson from his spot at the end of the bench. Though it pained him, Eric turned and gave the mayor a nod. When Stanley had finally suggested inviting Gray to join them a few minutes earlier, reasoning that they could really use the town's elected leader on their team in this plan, Eric's protests had been quashed by his co-conspirators. Eric had squeezed around Bill to sit on his mother's other side, and Gray had been oblivious to Eric's scowl as he'd enthusiastically slid onto the bench beside him. Gray had been at first a little wary of the events his deputy mayor and loyal citizens were attempting to put into motion, but he seemed to be warming to the idea.

"And crying that their dreams are all gone," said Mimi.

"Reacting violently to everyone who's happier than them," added Mary.

"Putting their hands on my wife!" said Stanley indignantly.

"Really, in the interest of public safety..." Eric trailed off, looking at Gray with just the slightest apprehension. After all, he was still his boss, and the chief lawmaker in town.

"So this is a public service?" asked Gray. His question was met with six somewhat surprised expressions. The conspirators nodded at him.

"Well, I hope I can offer you my humble assistance, then," he said, flashing a grin in Gail's direction.

Eric noisily cleared his throat and leaned forward. "So the ladies are going to take Emily -"

"I'm not sure I'm exactly the person she's going to want to dish about men with," said Mary, throwing an apprehensive glance over her shoulder. "She doesn't even want me pouring her drinks anymore. I had to get Darryl to take over as soon as he showed up." She motioned vaguely to where her employee stood at the bar, holding up a bottle and looking bemusedly down at - who else - Emily, who was holding up her glass.

"Hey, you're not sending me alone. I barely know her," said Mimi.

"Besides, none of this would have happened if you hadn't thrown your bouquet at Heather," chided Bill.

Mary rolled her eyes. "I didn't, and I had nothing to do with that one."

"I'm just saying, Jake did propose to her a week after your wedding..." Bill's voice trailed off as Mary leveled a look in his direction.

"Jake and Heather's wedding was not anyone's fault," said Gail firmly. "It's not something anyone is going to be blamed for. You don't blame people for something good! So let's just focus on our task at hand. The girls are going to talk to Emily. I know you can do it," she sent her daughter-in-law an encouraging smile. "And the boys are going to talk to him." She nodded her head in Beck's direction, wincing slightly as the army officer let out a long-drawn out sniffle.

"I'd say we have the harder job. It'll take a lot of work just to get him to stop crying," said Bill with a smirk.

Gail raised her eyebrows. "Just be the kindhearted men I know you to be. Be nice, show him you understand."

"If only we had a tissue to offer him," said Eric, squinting his eyes as Beck sniffled loudly again. "Or a hankie at least. Anyone got one of those?"

"What's wrong with his sleeve?" asked Stanley. "He doesn't seem to mind it."

Eric shook his head and Mimi gave her husband a withering look.

"Here, give him this," said Mary, pushing the bowl of spinach dip towards them.

Stanley looked down suspiciously. "Hi, sorry Heather married Jake, how about some spinach dip my wife wouldn't eat?"

"When in doubt, lead with comfort food," nodded Gail approvingly.

"Don't know if this qualifies," said Eric. "If we want the plan to work, shouldn't we try to avoid food poisoning?" Stanley nodded.

"Hands. Here," said Mimi through gritted teeth, patting her stomach.

"Right, thanks," said Stanley, scooping up the bowl. Eric grabbed the plate of crackers, taking a deep breath. "So does everyone know what they're doing?"

Mimi nodded resolutely as Mary blinked, bracing herself. Bill turned the salt and pepper shakers eagerly in his hands and Stanley moved to stand up. "Wait -" said Eric. "What about a signal?"

"What?" asked Bill.

"You know, something we can use if we need to meet back here?" explained Eric.

"We're gonna be at opposite ends of the bar. How can we get each other to look without having the whole bar notice?" asked Mimi.

"We do something that doesn't look weird, but we all know it's only to be used as the signal, so we don't do it by accident," said Eric, looking around to see if anyone understood.

"Wave your arms like this," said Stanley, flapping his arms over his head.

"Too obvious," said Mimi with a grin.

"Tap your ear," said Bill.

"Not obvious enough."

Stanley lifted a finger towards his nose. "Too gross!" exclaimed Mimi.

"I wasn't going to -" he gasped, trying to show his shock and indignation, but Mary interrupted, "Just say 'Coming through!' loud enough for us to hear. Happens in a bar all the time."

The members of the group were silent for a moment. "That'll work!" said Stanley.

Simultaneously the friends stood - or tried to stand in Mimi's case. As Eric spoke again, she slid back down in her seat. "And if that signal doesn't work? The backup signal? If we need to interrupt each other?"

Mary thought for a second. "Ask me to dance. It's New Years." She stepped away from the table, holding out an arm for Mimi to brace with as she struggled out next.

"Okay," said Eric, brusquely standing to his full height beside Gray.

"Wait," said Gail. Mimi wore a pained expression as she stepped back, grasping Stanley's shoulder and the corner of the bench. Gail smiled apologetically. "Hands in the centre, all of you."

Mimi raised her eyebrows, Bill opened his mouth to say something, and Stanley made an exaggerated expression that reminded Gail of the time his mother sent him to the Greens' Christmas reception at Town Hall in a vest adorned with dancing gingerbread men.

"Come on, we're going to need all the team spirit we can get. Commit!" Gail glanced pointedly around at them all. After a moment, six hands flew into the space in the centre of the booth, piled on top of each other. Eric quickly slipped his hand from under the pile to cover Gray's before his mother put hers on the top. There was a pregnant pause (that had nothing to do with Mimi) as the conspirators looked at each other.

"What do we call ourselves?" asked Bill. "The A-team? Team Awesome? The Avengers?" He grew more animated with each suggestion.

Eric shook his head, asking, "Team Yente?" Mary hid a smile.

"The Red Storm of Doom?" asked Stanley to a chorus of chuckles.

"How about we say 'New Years'?" suggested Gail. "That's what we're saving after all."

"Yes," Mary nodded. "To saving New Years!"

Gail turned to the centre of the group again. "One, two, three..."

"New Years!" They lifted their hands triumphantly.

"Now go get 'em!" said Gail, giving her son's shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

She grinned with motherly pride as the brave schemers set forth on their mission. Stanley, Eric, and Bill filed out of the booth and began walking in Beck's direction, as strange a procession as she'd ever seen, Stanley holding the spinach dip, Eric the plate of crackers, all three with looks of dogged determination. Equally intent, Mary and Mimi linked arms and began the slow march through the crowd and towards their mark, whispering amongst themselves despite the relative noisiness now masking conversations in the bar.

Gail reached her hands back to grasp the edge of the table, letting out a sigh. She was suddenly aware of Gray, now leaning against the table beside her.

"Alone at last," he said softly, inching closer.

For the third time in her life, Gail experienced the odd phenomenon of imagining herself floating outside her body, observing a bizarre scene unfolding from above. For a moment, she'd let her excitement in the group problem solving overcome her own solution to her other recent problem. That solution being, of course, avoiding Gray Anderson completely. She had considered many times over the course of the week what it was that she had felt in that moment at Jake and Heather's wedding: awe at the beautiful scene unfolding, nostalgia as she recalled her own wedding, camaraderie with a fellow survivor. She certainly hadn't felt an awakening of those feelings that seemed to have possessed her husband's former rival. After attempting to get over her initial shock at his sudden determination to win her heart, she had worried all week, only coming up with the temporary fix of running in the opposite direction each time he approached. Now, in her third moment of absolute clarity, watching Gray gazing dreamily at her amidst a roomful of their fellow townspeople, she could see a way to deal with two problems at once.

She looked at the mayor out of the corner of her eye. He was smiling serenely. She considered the counsel she'd given her son, daughter-in-law, and friends. To commit. "At last," she agreed. "But you know, before I can enjoy the evening, I'm going to need your help." She leaned back against the table, noticing how close Gray's hand was to hers. "I've got a job for you."

Gray leaned closer, an eager expression gracing his features.

As Stanley approached the slumped figure of the former commander, he tried to think calming thoughts. He wouldn't focus on the fact that the man before him had molested Mimi a few hours earlier, nor the fact he'd once left a crazed contractor to kill her while he babysat New Bern. He wouldn't consider the way he'd had to go into hiding while his baby sister's body lay stuffed in a metal drawer, nor the way all of his friends had suffered under the ensuing crackdown that forced them from their homes. Stanley usually preferred simple solutions, but this particular instance required finesse. He felt his hands clench on the spinach bowl as he walked. Calm thoughts.

Eric couldn't help but sneak a glance back over his shoulder as he followed Stanley. He frowned. Just as he'd suspected, Gray Anderson was already making his move. He nearly growled in frustration. Bill nearly bumped into him and he was forced to keep walking. Eric scowled down at his plate of crackers. Mary - and half the town - might find Gray's infatuation with his mother humorous, but he couldn't help but wonder if everyone else had lost it. Was he the only one who understood how completely bizarre the idea of Gray and his mother as a couple would be? There couldn't be a stranger pair...except perhaps the match they were attempting to engineer.

Bill hid a smile as the trio approached the major. He had longed for an opportunity to avenge the injustices and indignities they'd all suffered under Major Beck's rule, but thanks to the major's act of contrition, he'd had to give up on the revenge fantasies he'd dreamed up those nights they'd hid out in the garage. While Beck's presence in town was not celebrated, he was tolerated and by unspoken agreement, the people refrained from any kind of uncivilized retaliation. This plan was perfect in its seeming civility. Bill didn't particularly dislike Emily Sullivan, but he'd known her since high school and he couldn't imagine a better revenge than the one they were about to put into place.

The major barely looked up as the trio stood in a circle around his bar stool. The three men looked at each other. Finally, Stanley tapped Beck on the shoulder. "Hey, buddy."

Beck looked up at them, his eyes puffy. He looked as though he was trying to say something but didn't trust himself with words. He let out another sob, wiping his face on his sleeve.

Bill looked at Stanley. Stanley looked at Eric. Eric hesitantly pushed Stanley's arm. "Spinach dip?"

As they were jostled by the revelers on either side of them, Mary felt herself stepping closer to Mimi, attempting to shield her friend the best she could as Mimi took each thundering step.

As they approached Emily Sullivan, Mimi felt herself drawing Mary's arm closer and stepping in front of her. She didn't mind shielding her friend from a public menace; at least that instant caution that came over everyone as soon as they saw her imposing belly would be useful for once.

"Been a long time since I've scoped out a guy at the bar with my girlfriends," joked Mimi.

She could hear Mary's laugh above the roar of the party-goers. "Well, I do it for a living. Never had to scope one quite like this before though," came her reply.

"Think we drew the short straw?" asked Mimi.

"Well, they have to talk him into approaching the dart-thrower," said Mary. "But then, we have to approach her."

Mimi forced out one sarcastic chuckle. "Yeah, least you can drink."

"I can't drink on the job - Emily!" exclaimed Mary as the women suddenly found themselves outside the tangle of people and standing two feet from the dart-thrower herself.

Emily narrowed her eyes and pointed her empty glass. "You! You know, Green, your bartender's a real ass."

Wary of the glass Emily swung in her direction and the glint in her eyes, Mary stepped out from behind her shield. "Is he?" she asked carefully.

"I wanted another drink. This is a bar, and I wanted a drink! Is that so much to ask?!" Emily spat.

Exchanging a quick wide eyed grimace with Mimi, Mary continued. "He didn't give you another?"

"No! What is it with men anyway? You ask them for one little thing, they act like you've put them out, God forbid you ever do the asking, then they just say no because they didn't get to ask themself!" Emily clunked her glass back down on the bar.

Seeing Mary exhale in relief, Mimi took a chance and stepped in. "You know, Emily, I couldn't help overhearing on my earlier trip to the bathroom. Gray Anderson. That was pretty harsh of him."

Emily's eyes flashed. "Where does he get off? I should have known, though, they're all just the same!"

Mimi took a cautious step closer. "We've all been there. Men can be jerks."

"Assholes," agreed Mary.

"Cretins," added Mimi.

"Animals," continued Mary.

"They say they'll call and they don't, they say they'll feed your fish while you're in Mexico with your mom and you find them dead when you get back," proclaimed Mimi.

"They forget your birthday or they say you're the best and then they write it on the locker room wall," sighed Mary.

"They shut your dress in the car door or they dump you for your best friend," added Emily.

Mary and Mimi fell silent for a moment, finally glancing at each other, a small smile passing between them, which each quickly masked as an approving grimace.

"Right," continued Mimi. "They can be scum. And when they act like it, it's hard to remember that there are still some good ones out there."

Emily scoffed.

"Seriously," Mary said. "May not seem that way right now, but there is a whole world just waiting for you out there, and half the people in it are men."

"Forty-eight percent, actually," Mimi whispered.

Sending Mimi a look, Mary continued. "So I'm sure a certain percentage of those guys aren't so bad. Some of them are even good."

"Yeah, some guys wandering out there might not be total asses. Got it. Doesn't do me much good from here, does it?" asked Emily, getting louder.  "Stuck in Jericho!" she declared, slapping the bar and drawing the attention of the nearer of her fellow patrons.

"Well, statistically..." began Mimi, not certain where she was going but wanting to keep the conversation moving.

"Look, I know you're new to this," began Emily, clumsily putting a hand on Mimi's arm as she leaned forward conspiratorially. "But this is a small town. Not a lot to choose from." She withdrew her hand and leaned back, staring down at her empty glass again. "What am I saying? You know what I'm talking about. Who do you settle for in a place like this? You pick a farmer, or you pick Eric Green." She raised her glass, chuckled sardonically, and nearly slipped off her stool.

As Emily regained her balance, Mimi leaned in to whisper, "You know, I'd resent that but I agree with part of her assessment. She really has plowed through the available choices in this town."

Mary bit her lip. To avoid reacting to Emily or laughing at Mimi's comments, it was hard to say. Whatever the case, she stepped closer to the bar with a newfound determination. "I don't know Emily...maybe not all the good ones are gone." She leaned an arm on the bar with an expert air of nonchalance. "What about -" she gave a nod across the bar, where Beck could be seen seated on his stool in the midst of his trio of consolers, "him?"

Eric looked down at his empty hands, wishing once again he had a tissue to offer the man. After some coaxing, Beck had finally accepted the food they'd thrust at him, eating spinach dip on crackers for a few seconds of glorious silence. Eric had worried that his earlier predictions had been about to be realized when the major had made a choking noise, but as he'd seen the tears begin to roll down the major's face, he'd realized in horror that it was worse than food poisoning. He stood helplessly as the major cried into his spinach dip.

Bill stood nearby, equally helpless when faced with the emotional display. Stanley hesitantly patted the man's shoulder, trying to offer words of comfort.

"Look, it'll...be okay," said Stanley. "It's just...been a hard couple of months?" he glanced at his friends.

Eric grimaced and put the spinach dip on the bar. "He's right. Things have been bad, for everyone. But what do you do when life knocks you down?" He did his best to affect a serious posture, thinking back to his father's frequent father-to-son speeches. "You get back up again, make the most of what you've got."

Beck didn't seem to think highly of whatever it was that he had to make the most of, shaking his head back and forth. Eric gritted his teeth and looked to the others. Bill attempted next, pasting a cheerful look on his face. "Hey, you know what day it is today. New Year's. Time for new beginnings and everything. You know, out with the old, in with the new, all that crap."

"Time to forget about whatever's bummed you out over the past year," threw in Stanley.

"Time to take chances and take charge of your life," nodded Eric.

"I don't - I don't know if I can," said Beck finally.

The three men pretended to scoff in disbelief. "You can. You once commanded a whole company! You were a leader. You can take charge again," said Eric, clarifying quickly, "Of your own life, I mean."

"Yeah, you've just gotta go out there and go for it. You can be happy. You might even find that special someone to be happy with," said Bill rapidly, as if he didn't trust himself to complete the sentence if he let himself think as he spoke.

"And you've still got a lot to offer a woman," continued Stanley, looking the major up and down and thinking fast. "You've got the...looks, and the...battle scars. Chicks dig that."

"My wife used to...You know, she looked so much like my wife!" said Beck, suddenly and spectacularly descending back into his weepy lament. "Reminded me so much..." He sniffled loudly.

Eric, Bill, and Stanley exchanged panicked glances. Stanley knew, of course, just the 'she' Beck was referring to. He glanced over quickly at the women across the bar. It was getting crowded, but he could make out Emily's hair, contrasting with Mimi's and Mary's darker tresses. They were still standing close enough to talk to the blond, so it seemed things were going as well as could have been hoped. Suddenly, he turned back to Beck. "You know, maybe what you need is someone different. Someone totally opposite."

Eric caught on. "Yeah, sometimes you think you're looking for something and all along, it's something else altogether that you really want. So you have to take a chance, try a different approach."

Bill nodded too. "Best way to forget. Move on with someone who doesn't seem familiar."

Wiping his eyes again, Beck asked, "What do you mean? How do I do that?"

Stanley grinned, motioning subtly across the room. "How do you feel about blonds?"

"Him? Beck?" asked Emily incredulously. "Beck is the great guy you're giving me?"

Mary smiled quickly, throwing a glance at Mimi who followed suit. "What? You don't think he's a catch?"

Emily seemed torn between amusement and suspicion. "Beck? The army man? The one you held secret meetings to talk about behind his back?"

"He was doing his job, I was doing mine," shrugged Mary, quickly searching for a way to further commit to her role. She hopped onto the stool beside Emily, swiveling to look at the Major. "He's  a man in uniform. That's something."

Mimi had stepped towards the bar between them, leaning her elbow against it, one hand on her stomach. "He's strong. He's seen the world."

"Maybe," said Emily, her tone still indicating disbelief.

"Oh, come on, look at him!" said Mary, hoping Emily would follow her instructions and not see the expression on her own face as she forced out her next words. "He's got that - that smoldering thing going on!"

Beck did indeed look like he was feeling something intense as he clutched at his chest and squinted his eyes.

"Told you that spinach dip was iffy," Mimi whispered into her friend's ear. Mary widened her eyes at Mimi, who quickly said out loud, "Yeah, what a hunk!"

Mary had to cough at her friend's high pitched words but Emily was now considering the two of them seriously. "You guys - you really think he's - you think he's good looking?"

Exchanging a quick and painful expression, both women plastered appropriate looks of admiration on their faces. "Oh, yeah! For sure," said Mimi, letting a giggle escape. Hoping she could play it for effect, she continued, "I mean, if I didn't have my farmer..."

"If I didn't have my...Eric," added Mary, struggling to keep her composure.

"Really?" asked Emily, glancing over at the major again and then back at the married women. It was clear she was evaluating this new information. She tilted her head appraisingly as she took in the view across the bar. "Don't you think he's kind of sad?"

"Well, it's true he's lost a bit of his former glory. But think of what you can do - you can bring him back!" enthused Mimi.

"What?" asked Emily.

"You know what they say, behind every great man...well, you could be the great woman who helps him find his feet again," explained Mimi.

"He really needs someone now. Think of how it'll feel, being needed. And then, when he lets you in, you can change him. You can help him be even better than he was before," Mary added.

"You think I could do that?" asked Emily, narrowing her eyes at Mary.

"Hey," Mimi rapped on the bar between them. "You know, I haven't even lived here very long and I've heard about Emily Sullivan's effect on men. Of course you can do it!"

Though Mary slipped off her stool in her attempts to avoid laughing out loud, Emily smiled at Mimi. "Thanks, I guess." She frowned again, leaning her chin in her hands, her elbows propped on the bar. "I don't know, he might not be so hot for me. He made me a fugitive once."

Mary, who had grabbed the edge of the bar for support, stepped over beside Emily. "Oh, he doesn't hold onto that stuff."

Mimi, who had stepped back as her friend stood on the floor beside her, answered, "Yeah, trust me. We had a chat earlier. He was very friendly."

"And look, he's hanging out with Stanley and Eric right now," added Mary.

All three women gazed over to where the men were clustered. Eric smiled faintly as he caught his wife's eye. He poked Beck's shoulder. Beck looked up, a dazed sort of look on his face.

Mary quickly poked Mimi's shoulder. Mimi reluctantly gave a little wave with her left hand, hidden from Emily by the swell of her pregnancy.

Beck's eyes lit up and he waved back.

Turning from that sight quickly, Mimi looked up at Emily. The blond now wore a small smile.

Eric was slightly surprised and very relieved that Beck continued to smile instead of bursting into fresh tears at the reminder of the Richmond child on the way. He was slightly nervous, however, of the way Stanley's hand, resting on the bar, had tightened into a fist. As much to diffuse any irritation rising in Stanley as to further their collective plot, he very awkwardly patted Beck's shoulder.

"Kids," said Beck, in a voice that was not quite as anguished as before. "They get to me. You'll know, when you're a father."

"I know," said Eric reluctantly. "I know how it is. Losing your baby. It's the toughest."

Beck nodded, a subdued look on his features. Stanley gruffly folded his arms and Bill kept his eyes trained on the wall opposite them. Eric sighed and continued. "It seems hard, at first, to imagine moving on. But it gets better."

As Eric's hand rested briefly on the major's shoulder, Beck reached up to squeeze his wrist. "Thanks, man," he wheezed.

Eric briefly winced, but continued in an uneven voice. "You just have to imagine yourself moving on. See yourself in a better place. Imagery is key." He was aware now that he was babbling away, saying unfamiliar words that reminded him just a little of that book on CD April had once insisted on listening to as they drove to Topeka. As neither of his friends volunteered a comment, he forced himself to keep filling the silence. "When you look at her," he glanced in Mimi's direction, aware of Stanley glaring at him, "don't see it as a reminder of what you've lost. See it as a sign. There is still hope, even in times like these."

"Hope," repeated Beck, seeming to consider it.

Sending Stanley a faltering grin, Eric continued, "Yeah. Even with the war going on, even with everything happening around us, people are still finding love, settling down, raising families. Kind of makes all our little worries seem insignificant, doesn't it?"

"People - people still want that?" asked Beck after a moment of consideration.

"Sure they do," Stanley finally chimed in. "Lots of people."

"Lots of women," added Bill, finally back to a topic he felt comfortable discussing.

"The women in this town..." grumbled Beck.

"Hey, they're not all resistance leaders," said Eric.

"Yeah, some of them just show up to meetings and stand there looking pretty," muttered Stanley. Eric nudged him.

"The point is, some of them might be looking for the same things you are. They might surprise you," he finished.

Beck looked over again at the women on the other side of the bar, who were discussing something with fervor. Stanley, Eric, and Bill stood around him, looking over too. Eric leaned down to say, "You never know who could be out there, dreaming about the same things you want. So maybe you should start taking chances."

Over on the other side of the bar, Mimi and Mary were indeed discussing something with fervor. Emily had smiled for a few seconds when Beck had waved in her direction, but she had turned promptly back to her empty glass, moaning in despair that the universe had taken away every other man she'd ever fallen for and wasn't likely to give her any more chances.

Mary had feebly attempted to console her, but as Emily shot down every word of comfort sent in her direction, Mimi could see Mary eyeing the empty glass herself. Deciding it was time to take a different approach, Mimi cleared her throat. "Okay, enough of this. Pull yourself together Emily Sullivan."

For a moment, Emily sat still in shock. She turned to look at Mimi, her mouth wide open.

"How long ago did you break up with your last boyfriend? Over a year, right?" asked Mimi in an even tone.

Emily was struggling to find a retort and Mimi could see Mary watching with wide eyes but she continued with her line of questioning. "Your high school love left you, right? So what?"

Mimi's bold move had certainly provoked a reaction in the blond, whose face seemed to betray a tumultuous mixture of emotions. Mary glanced quickly at her friend and stepped in herself. "Mimi's right. So what? You don't need him. You can go out and do what you want now."

"I don't care about him," Emily countered in as convincing a tone as she could muster.

"Good!" said Mimi. "Good for you!"

Despite the fact they both smiled encouragingly, Emily didn't seem quite sure as she looked from Mimi to Mary.

"You know what they say," Mary quickly picked up. "What you do when you get thrown off a horse."

"Sue the stables?" Mimi couldn't help whispering, adding "Yeah, you pick yourself up and get back on again!"

"But that's just it!" said Emily, seemingly pleased to finally discuss this with someone. "I can't get on again. She's taken my -"

"Not the same horse!" exclaimed Mary.

Mimi nodded. "You get thrown off, you sell that pony to a carnival."

"Bottom line is, you don't let it stop you from getting on again, moving on," said Mary. "So what if you didn't end up with the person you thought you would when you were sixteen? How many of us do?"

"Yeah," agreed Mimi. "That's the whole beauty of surviving bombs, war, and disease. Live through it, you might find yourself someone you never even thought to look for before."

Mary nodded, and Emily glanced back and forth between the two friends in front of her and the men across the bar. "I don't know," she said unenthusiastically. "From everything I've seen, the bombs have pretty much killed romance."

"That's so not true!" said Mimi in mock astonishment. Patting a hand on her stomach, she continued, "The bombs have just made romance more creative. Check out the necklace Stanley gave me for our anniversary." She reached under her shirt collar and pulled a chain towards the light. Emily leaned in to examine it, and Mimi squinted as her heightened sense of smell was hit in full force. "The chain used to be his mother's. He carved the heart out of wood," she choked out.

"Well, it helps if you have a dead mother's jewelry box to -" began Emily.

"I'm sure there are men who can get jewelry for someone special," cut in Mary, noticing that Mimi's concentration was breaking slightly as she hastily pulled her necklace away from Emily's view. "Men with the right connections."

"The point is, romance did not go up in smoke with the bombs," added Mimi. "Tell her about that romantic getaway Eric took you on," she continued, nudging Mary and grinning mischievously.

Mary sent her friend the briefest look of annoyance as she struggled to describe a romantic getaway she had just heard of for the first time. "Oh, it was really...nice. We went to this, uh, cabin by a lake. Very...low levels of radiation," she finished, biting her lip to keep from laughing as she caught the look on Mimi's face.

"You know," said Mimi leaning against the bar again. "I bet there are men out there who would like nothing better than to go on a romantic getaway. Away from all the stress, a nice bottle of contraband champagne, low levels of radiation."

"Major Beck knows where the radiation is," came a voice.

Mary's and Mimi's eyes flew to the man seated one stool to their right, his arms placed neatly on the bar in front of him, with no drink in sight.

"Mr. Hawkins!" stammered Mary. "I didn't know you were -"

"I couldn't help but overhear," he said with a smirk, leaning towards them covertly. "And, I just thought I might add, Beck knows where the radiation is, and where it isn't. He could find you a good vacation spot."

Mary and Mimi were looking on in confusion but Emily seemed intrigued. "How does he know?"

Hawkins glanced furtively over his shoulder. Mary followed his gaze and noticed that there was a clear view to the pool table from Hawkins' stool. He seemed to be calculating something in his mind as he looked back at Emily, and over to the other women. "Would you ladies mind excusing us for a moment? I want a word with Miss Sullivan."

After a moment of staring at him in surprise and another whispering amongst themselves, the women consented, promising they'd be back in a minute and throwing glances over their shoulders as they retreated through the crowd.

Emily watched them go, also not certain of what was happening. She looked back to the man seated beside her. "Uh, Mr. Hawkins -"

"Look, Emily, I wouldn't normally interfere but I heard you talking and I wanted to point out some things that might not be apparent to a native townsperson such as yourself."

Emily might have been slightly miffed at the insinuation that something wasn't apparent to her, but remembering the few things she knew about the mysterious Hawkins, and the many things she did not know, she only listened in silence.

He leaned in so only she could hear his carefully moderated tone. "You've got to understand that there's a hierarchy in play here. You've got your ground level, your salt-of-the-earths who keep the town running and follow orders."

She nodded.

"Then you go up a level and you've got the leaders who give them orders."

"Yes," she sighed. "The Greens. And Gray."

He smiled. "Now who's above them?"

Within seconds, her eyes lit with understanding.

"What's he doing?" whispered Stanley.

"I think it's some kind of mantra," Eric whispered back.

They had each taken a step back and were looking down at their friend. Bill had crouched beside the woeful army officer, had grasped each of his wrists, was looking into his eyes, and repeating the same sentence over and over.

"Come on man, say it with me. I am a strong, confident man. I am a strong, confident man," Bill repeated.

"I am s-strong," stammered Beck in an unconvincing tone.

"Oh, this'll never work," moaned Eric in despair.

"I think maybe we need some help," said Stanley. "You want to go check on how the girls are doing? Go ask 'em to dance?"

Eric nodded, quickly stepping around Bill, still attempting to put the major's thoughts in harmony, and making his way over to the other side of the bar. Trying to figure out how he would face the looks they would give him when he explained how they were floundering in their task on the men's side, he was watching his feet. As he stepped up to the bar, saying "Hey, do you want to dance -" he looked up. Emily Sullivan, perched on her barstool, wore an expression of amusement and Robert Hawkins gave a sarcastic chuckle. There was no one else beside them.

"I - uh - I thought Mary was..." Eric glanced wildly around them.

"You mean you weren't asking me to dance, Green?" drawled Emily with a look of mock disappointment.

Eric backed up, looking around desperately. There was no sign of the women anywhere. He glanced over at Stanley, who just motioned vaguely in his direction.

"I - sorry," he said, spinning around before they could see his face turning red. He stepped away from the bar, looking around again. The second signal. He found himself standing in an open space, and still couldn't see Mary or Mimi anywhere. He looked helplessly at Stanley, who gave him no reassurance as he looked helplessly back.

"Come - Coming through!" called Eric in a shaky voice. The few people who were standing nearby turned to stare at him. He stood on the spot, the circle of onlookers backing away, and repeated, "Coming through!" He looked down at his empty hands, wondering why he had agreed to this signal at all.

Then a hand was grabbing his, pulling him away from the middle of the sparse group of people. "Dance with me," she whispered in a teasing voice.

"You said people always say that in bars!" he said in an irritated tone.

"Usually when they're actually trying to get through a group of people," laughed Mary, turning apologetic eyes on him as he frowned. "At least pick up a tray next time."

"Next time," he muttered darkly.

She squeezed his hand as she continued to lead him over to their booth. "Never mind that, come see what your mother's been drumming up!"

"She's been what?" he asked, just as they reached the table and she stopped pulling him by the arm. He stumbled a little, catching her shoulder for support. She looked at the people seated at the booth, and he turned to look too. His mother sat in the middle of the bench, beaming as she motioned to the people sitting on either side of her. "Backup!" grinned Gail.

"So what's the big news over here? Why'd Mary ask me to dance?" asked Bill, coming to stand at the booth in the corner as Mary let go of his arm. Just as Eric had a few minutes earlier, he surveyed the table, now more crowded than it had been before.

"Because I didn't want to go near the hot zone again," said Mimi, who was leaning against the bench. "How come you didn't get Stanley too?"

"It's okay, I left him meditating," said Bill dismissively. "So what's going on?"

"Mom called in the reinforcements," said Eric, smiling from the other side of the table and motioning to the young man sitting beside Mimi and the older woman between his mother and Gray, who looked slightly disconcerted.

"And Gray helped," added Gail kindly. Eric scowled.

"So Timmy, you're going with Mimi here, and just tell her what we practiced," said Gray in a businesslike tone. "And Mrs. McVeigh -"

"Mrs. McVeigh is coming with me," cut in Eric.

Allison Hawkins had come up behind Bill, Scott Nystrom trailing closely behind. They looked slightly out of breath. "Got the paper and some pens," she said, holding up the articles she had mentioned.

"Thank you sweetheart," said Gail, squishing over on the bench and motioning for the others to do the same. Eric got up and the young couple carefully squeezed onto the end of the bench.

"So you want me to give one of the - testimonials too?" asked Allison. "About Miss Sullivan?"

"No, we've got another job for you to do," said Gray, tapping one of the pens on the table.

"You want me to write it? I don't know..." she started to say.

"Hey, you'll be good at it. And maybe we can get your dad to help too," said Gray.

"He's still here?" she asked in annoyance. The entire party followed her glance over to where Emily sat.

"Don't worry," said Mimi with a sympathetic look. "We'll let him know you can see him. Someone gonna help me up?"

Bill and Mary each stepped towards her, but another gallant hero stepped in from behind them.

"Happy New Year Mimi! And baby New Year! Rock on!" said Sean Henthorn as he enthusiastically pulled her to her feet.

"Hey, don't jinx it," warned Mary, but Mimi was laughing.

"A 2008 baby - get that tax deduction a year early," she smirked.

At her friend's horrified look, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, I can wait another three weeks."

"I don't think our, uh, unhappy campers will wait that long," said Eric, looking warily at the bar.

"Right, everybody up!" said Gail.

People clambered out of the booth on either side. "What's going on? You guys playing some kind of game?" asked Sean.

"No, we're working on something," said Bill. "Not sure what, but we're busy."

"I'll explain it to you, William," said Mrs. McVeigh, yanking him to the side. Bill listened, too subdued by his former teacher's use of his given name to protest. Meanwhile, Timmy, the former ASA soldier, had stepped away from the table too.

"I'm all ready to help you, ma'am," he said, smiling dreamily at Mary.

"Hey, if he's in on it, I should get to be!" protested Sean, stepping between both groups. They all turned to look at him. "I worked hard all day on border patrol, I thought I'd get to have some fun at the party tonight, and all my buddies are doing something secret without me."

"We're your buddies?" asked Bill, as Mary said "I guess he could help."

Eric looked like he might protest. "Come on," said Mimi. "He went to Jericho High. He can help you guys on your side."

"Yeah, go Marauders!" said Sean, waving a fist in the air. Mimi couldn't help but grin as she pushed him in their direction.

"Alright, you all go carry out your duties, and we'll be sending more help your way when we can," said Gail. Gray smiled as he sat down beside her again.

"Mom -" Eric began.

"Relax, Eric," said Gray, leaning back. "Why don't you go get another beer?"

Eric made a face as both parties began to shuffle off in opposite directions. Mary tapped her hand on his arm. "Near beer, hon."

As he followed Bill, Mrs. McVeigh, and an enthusiastic Sean, he clenched his fists together. Stanley was doing the same thing as they approached the bar, standing behind the major, who was deep in meditation it seemed, his eyes shut, chanting something. Stanley was not so peaceful, shifting restlessly from one foot to another.

"What took you so long?" he whispered through clenched teeth when Eric finally came to stand beside him. "I had to describe a meadow, a sunny beach, and a rainforest for this guy."

"Oh, Mom and Gray have been coming up with all kinds of ideas," muttered Eric, looking darkly back at his mother and the mayor, who were sitting facing Allison and Scott, pouring over the papers on the table. "He better watch himself, that's all I can say. Even though he's my boss. He doesn't back off, I'll - I'll -"

"You'll what?" asked Stanley, trying not to betray amusement at his friend's disconcerted expression.

"I'll go get Jake," finished Eric, a dangerous glint in his eye. "He'll get it, even if no one else does."

"Get Jake? From the love cabin? Your funeral, buddy," grinned Stanley. Bill nudged both of them. They turned. Beck had opened his eyes and was looking serenely at the larger group of people gathered around him.

"Oh, you're back," he said to Eric. "I wanted to tell you, I was imagining myself on a beach with white sand and blue waters. What you said, about imagery, it's -"

"Right, that's great," cut in Eric. "We have something else we want to tell you about too. Someone else, actually."

Beck, miraculously, looked intrigued.

"Remember how we've been talking about taking chances? On someone new? We have someone in mind, who's here tonight, who we think might be a really good match for you." With a flourish of his hand, Eric said, "Emily Sullivan!"

Beck appeared to be thinking about this for a moment. "Sullivan? Who's that?"

"See the blond over there?" All pairs of eyes glanced. Emily was giving a laugh as she threw back her head.

Beck mused. "She looks familiar."

"Maybe because she's a contributing citizen often seen around town?" suggested Eric.

"She has a memorable mugshot?" came from Stanley.

"It's a small place and you both end up here a lot?" countered Bill.

"No...didn't I search her house? She has pictures of Heather. On her dresser top, in a frame." Beck seemed lost in reverie. Eric and Stanley exchanged nervous glances, unable to say anything.

After an extremely uncomfortable couple of seconds, Bill stammered "Why would you know that?"

"Because she's a ranger," muttered Stanley, stepping on Bill's foot.

"Ranger?" asked Beck, whipping his head to look around the room.

"Oh, she's more than just a ranger," said Eric. "She's a dedicated...history teacher."

"A, uh, good friend," ventured Stanley.

"Not bad to look at," added Bill.

"Sullivan..." repeated Beck.

"Emily," emphasized Eric.

"I don't know, she seems kind of..." Beck trailed off.

"Hey, you don't have to take our word for it!" exclaimed Bill. "We brought along some people we think you'll be interested in talking to."

He stepped aside and nodded politely at Mrs. McVeigh, who had been waiting behind them.

Smiling assertively, Mrs. McVeigh planted her feet on the ground and spoke. "I taught Emily Sullivan when she was only in grade school. I've got to say, she hasn't changed much since then."

"Young at heart!" declared Eric.

"And, she was one for following the rules if I ever did meet one. I can honestly say I never caught her in the hallway without a hall pass, not even once." Mrs. McVeigh nodded emphatically.

Stanley grinned as he whispered to Eric, "That's because she'd learned to forge every teacher's name by fourth grade!"

Eric stifled a chuckle as they watched Beck take in this information.

"Not only did she follow the rules, she was popular. You should have seen her at junior prom. Everyone turned to look at her when she came through the doors," said Stanley with a wicked grin.

Quickly, Eric continued. "Seriously, everyone knew Emily Sullivan. In senior year, she was voted friendliest!"

"Make that most likely to commit a felony," snickered Stanley, just out of Beck's earshot. Bill collapsed in a fit of laugher, but stopped quickly when Mrs. McVeigh caught his eye.

"Well, I guess friendly is good. And orderly," said Beck with just a hint of a smile.

"Good," nodded Mrs. McVeigh, whispering "Good luck," to the conspirators as she made her exit.

"Well, what else can you tell me?" asked Beck.

Bill pushed Sean forward. Sean had been grinning throughout the entire conversation so far but in this moment he suddenly resembled a deer in the headlights. "Uh...Miss Sullivan's a great teacher. You can sleep in her class and she hardly ever notices! Ouch!"

Bill had stomped on his foot a little forcefully. "How about talking about Emily's dad, Sean? Always a good thing for the prospective suitor to know about a great dad like hers."

"Oh!" said Sean. "Emily's dad. He's a fun guy. He has the coolest stuff out at his place!"

"I bet he treats the guys she brings home pretty well, huh?" suggested Eric in as convincing a tone as he could.

"Yeah," said Sean, about equally as convincing. "He doesn't care how late you stay out, he'll introduce you to his drinking buddies, and maybe he'll even get you a job if he likes you enough."

Eric nearly winced, but to his astonishment, the former chief town administrator seemed to be considering the prospect of employment.

"And just wait'll you talk to her. You can have some interesting conversations with Emily Sullivan. She's got interesting ideas about the world," said Stanley.

Eric nodded. "One time, she and I had an intriguing talk about the Dutch Prime Minister's position on the world politics stage. She was worried how the Dutch would be treated by the United States government."

Beck turned to stare over at the blond, a new expression beginning to take shape on his face.

Stanley folded his arms approvingly and leaned towards Eric. "Worried about the Dutch?"

"Yeah," whispered Eric. "The Pennsylvania Dutch."

On the other side of the bar, Mary and Mimi were presenting their evidence too. Emily leaned forward on her stool, sipping the wine cooler they had graciously offered her. Mimi held another glass of cider in her hands, despite having predicted her fifth and sixth trips to the bathroom as Darryl had poured it. Mary set a beer bottle on the bar nearby with a furtive look over her shoulder. She'd reluctantly opened it, at Mimi's insistence that at least one of them should be allowed something to take the edge off.

"Go on, Timmy," urged Mary, pushing the awkward soldier forward.

"I - I wanted to let you know that this week, I spoke my mind about something and Major Beck listened to my opinion," he stammered.

"Oh?" asked Emily, clearly not yet impressed.

"And he didn't get stripped of his rank, or confined to quarters, or even put on bread and water, did you?" asked Mimi, patting him on the back.

He jumped slightly, but answered "No Ma'am. The Major's really loosened up." He bobbed his head affably.

"Good job," Mary mouthed at him, and Mimi smiled. Timmy positively beamed. Emily cocked her head to the side.

"I'd take it as a good sign," Hawkins smirked. "Shows personal growth."

The two conspirators and their witness jumped, having forgotten again that he was there.

"Mr. Hawkins!" said Mimi. "Hey, I saw Allison and she said she wants you to help -"

Mary cleared her throat. "Ah, I mean, Allison...knows you're here," finished Mimi lamely. "Maybe you should -"

"Thanks," said Hawkins. "I think I'm going to enjoy my drink from here."

Mimi flashed her friend a hopeless look. Hawkins still had no drink in front of him and Emily was leaning far too close to his elbow.

"Mr. Hawkins, do you want to...dance?" asked Mary finally.

An amused look flashed over Hawkins' features as he took in her expression, and his eyes flitted over to the table that Mimi was subtly indicating.

"Don't you know he's married?" asked Emily, peering over her wine cooler to look at Mary. After a moment, she let out a laugh, throwing her head back. "Right, never mind."

Mary rolled her eyes and Mimi whispered, "I guess the dart-thrower is back. And you didn't even want to give her the wine cooler. I say lead with whiskey next time."

"You know, maybe I will go over and check on Allie," said Hawkins, giving Mimi and Mary a knowing smile. "Excuse me."

As they watched him go, Mary felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned back. Timmy was smiling. "I'll dance with you, ma'am."

Ignoring Emily's laughter, Mary politely declined, suggesting maybe he'd find another dance partner over by the pool table instead. He nodded, muttered his thanks, and ambled away. They stared after him a moment as he made his way across the bar, before swiftly turning back to Emily and their current task.

"So Beck. Have you been thinking it over?" asked Mimi.

Emily leaned back in her stool, one arm on the bar to steady herself. "Thinking. But I don't know...the major may have loosened up, but I keep remembering him as a dictator that turned the power off."

"Hey, even for a dictator, he was really...reasonable," said Mary. "When you guys were all in hiding, he stormed through the bar. He wanted to see inside the pantry, and I said no. But he gave me a choice. He said he could arrest me and break down the door, or I could step aside and let him break down the door, and he'd just arrest whoever was hiding inside." She pasted a grin onto her face.

Mimi nodded along with this story. "He's so fair and just."

"I guess," said Emily, her face the picture of doubt.

"And that's only one side to him," Mimi continued. "He's got a sensitive side too. I remember back from that time...This one day, I was sitting outside the med centre, crying and wondering what was going on and where everyone was, and the major came over to me. I was expecting another reasonable offer," she grinned at Mary, "But, he offered me a stick of Juicy Fruit. He can really be very thoughtful."

"Really," said Emily, in an almost sarcastic tone, but her eyes softened as she let them rest on the seated figure of the major and she let out a sigh.

Mary sighed too, and reached for her beer. She nearly choked on the first sip, and Mimi sloshed cider down her sleeve as Emily said, "I wonder if he ever worries about the Pennsylvania Dutch."

Gasping for air and elbowing Mimi, who was having a hard time containing her laughter, Mary said "A sensitive guy like that? I'm sure he does."

Steadying herself, Mimi smiled and nodded. All three turned to stare in his direction once again.

"I don't really know what more you could look for in a -" Mary started to say, but Emily said something that silenced her. "Kenchy's here!"

Both women snapped their heads in the direction Emily was looking. Kenchy had indeed come through the door, and was ushering inside a strawberry blond in scrubs that matched his own.

"Looks like he brought that nurse. Pity," said Emily, looking glum. Mary and Mimi exchanged panicked looks.

"We need the special one. Aren't they ready yet?" whispered Mimi. Mary looked to their booth and shook her head. "Well, we need something more, or we're going to lose her again," Mimi said through gritted teeth. "Maybe you should go ask some more people to dance."

"Me again?" asked Mary warily, knowing full well it would be her again.

"Sounds like a job for you," spoke up Emily, draining the last of her cooler. Both friends turned in surprise. Emily slammed the empty bottle down on the bar. "Oh, sorry, your job is selling wine coolers." She giggled to herself.

Grabbing her own beer in her hand again, Mary said "I'll be back. And I'll bring the whiskey."

"Go get 'em, Green!" said Emily, raising her fist in an apparent gesture of encouragement.

As her friend departed, holding the beer bottle over her head and expertly shouting "Coming through!" as she passed between two people, Mimi turned back to Emily. The blond was still watching the doctor and his date making their way across the room. She searched frantically for a way to regain her target's attention from the unforeseen distraction. The baby seemed to respond to her chagrin, kicking especially enthusiastically. An unpleasant solution came instantly to mind. Mimi put a hand to her belly and took a deep breath.

"Emily," she said. Emily turned to look at her again. "I couldn't help earlier, overhearing. What you said about children. I think it's great you're thinking about them."

Emily looked at her silently, expectantly. Mimi reminded herself again that it was for everyone's benefit. "Baby's kicking. Want to feel?"

Eric and Stanley were out of breath as they dashed over to the round booth. "What's the emergency now?" asked Stanley.

"No emergency," said Mary. "We're just in need of a little more backup. And you have to do something with Kenchy. He's stealing focus."

"How's the special testimonial going?" asked Eric, glancing over at the table.

"It's almost ready," said Allison, who sat uncomfortably wedged between her father and Scott.

"I think we need it as soon as possible," said Mary. "How are things on your end?"

"I think we're seeing some progress. He actually thanked Mom for telling him about what a great baker Emily is," said Eric.

"She said she's a great baker?" asked Mary.

"I said she's a considerate baker," said Gail, appearing behind her.

"And I helped," said Gray, trailing her closely. "I said she's a concerned citizen."

"Make that a citizen we're concerned about," joked Stanley.

"It would be more helpful to warn him to keep a high quality fire extinguisher beside the stove," muttered Eric.

"Who's with him now?" asked Stanley.

"Oh, we ran into Kenchy on our way back. I convinced him to go say a piece. Something about Emily's can-do attitude," chuckled Gail.

"Wait, who's with Emily?" asked Stanley.

"Mimi! You guys have to come with me!" said Mary, grabbing Stanley and Eric by the hand and yanking them back in the direction of her own mark. Before they could protest, they were standing a few feet from Emily. Mary's eyes widened. A change seemed to have come over Emily in the short time she'd been gone. Emily held her hand on Mimi's stomach, carefully standing completely still, and the expression on her face had softened considerably. When Mimi saw them, she stepped back, dropping Emily's hand. For a moment no one said anything. Then, Emily turned suspiciously shiny eyes to them. "Green, other Green, Stanley," she said, clearing her throat. "What do you want now?"

"They just had something to share about Beck themselves," said Mary, pushing each one forward.

"Right," said Stanley, looking to Mimi once more, who motioned him to continue.

"We were saying earlier how reasonable and thoughtful he was, back when we were under siege," Mary helpfully prompted.

"Right," he repeated. "Well, I did hear he tore up that arrest warrant he issued for me." Gaining confidence as his friends smiled encouragingly, he added, "Sure, it's still in the system, but I hardly ever get stopped, so it's all good."

Emily was watching the major now, her eyes still gleaming. Eric coughed and stepped forward. "And about those new text books..." Emily turned to look at him, and he took a step back, cautiously standing between Mary and Stanley. They both poked him. "It's really how you look at them. Sure, its a problem if you think they're for history class, but think literature! It's a rollicking good story!"

Mary leaned in and laughed into his shoulder while Stanley clapped him on the back. He breathed a sigh of relief. Emily was looking from one friend to another, seemingly lost in thought. "So you guys all like Beck now?"

All four nodded, though Mimi was biting her lip and Eric was looking down.

"You all think he's a great guy?" she asked.

"Oh, the greatest," enthused Mary, glad she had opened that beer earlier. The others nodded and murmured their appreciation.

Emily's forehead was furrowed as she considered, glancing from one to the other and back again. Just then, a voice came from behind them. "Excuse me."

Eric and Mary turned, and Allison Hawkins appeared between them. She held a folded piece of paper in her hands. "This is for you," she said, quickly handing it to Emily. She made a hasty retreat, having left her father and boyfriend alone at the booth.

"Oh, what is it?" asked Mimi in a falsely cheery voice.

Emily was turning over the paper in her hands. "It's from Heather," she said, bemused.

"Huh, well, what do you know, a special delivery," said Stanley.

"Who cares how it got here?" said Mary quickly, sliding another wine cooler across the bar. "Aren't you going to read it?"

Emily slowly unfolded the message and four pairs of eyes stared in anticipation. "It's about Beck," she said in surprise.

"And?" asked Stanley, as though he could barely contain himself. "Come on, read it out loud!"

Emily nodded. "She says 'Beck's a really great guy. In the end, we went our separate ways because we wanted different things. He wanted a replacement wife, and I wanted an alternative to incarceration.'"

"That's so sweet!" said Stanley, pretending to be overcome with emotion.

"Yeah," said Emily quietly.

"He really is a great guy," said Mimi, sipping her cider again. "And Heather let him get away."

"Crazy, isn't she?" chimed in Eric.

"But she had her chance," said Mary, wondering to herself just how the handwriting she could see on the paper matched Heather's so perfectly.

"And you know, he really is a big teddy bear," broke in Stanley. "I heard from Jimmy, one time the major stopped the guys from driving their tank over a caterpillar -"

"Where is he?" asked Emily suddenly.

The four conspirators' heads whipped towards the other side of the bar. For the first time in the evening, the major's seat was unoccupied. They turned back to each other, frantically whispering amongst themselves as Mimi loudly re-read Heather's testimony to Emily.

"Just go find him!" said Mary. "Please!"

"Why us?" asked Stanley. "We don't know where he is either."

"You can check the men's room, and do you really want her to have to run into him?" she asked, motioning to Mimi.

"Right," said Stanley. "We're going."

Mary grabbed Eric's arm as he was about to leave. "Tell the Hawkins team they did a great job!" she grinned.

He nodded briskly, and took off after Stanley.

A quick search of the bar led to the men's room. Bill stood outside, his arms folded, an exasperated look on his face. "Took you guys long enough."

"Sorry, we were helping the girls testify," puffed Stanley.

"Well, while you were having all the fun, Mr. Life-of-the-party got weepy again."

"Oh no! The plan was just starting to work on their side!" said Eric.

"It's working on our side. A little too well. Beck was touched when he heard how much Emily's guidance meant to Sean during the time after the bombs." Bill scowled. "So I got him to wash his face off at least."

"Almost there then?" asked Eric.

"If we could only convince him to throw that picture away. He brought it in there with him," said Bill.

Eric and Stanley winced. "Okay, time to move things along," said Stanley. He stepped up and pounded on the door. "Major Beck?"

"Yeah?" came a somber, if muffled, voice.

"Open up!"

The door slowly creaked open. Stanley, Eric, and Bill pushed into the tiny bathroom. Once inside, they gathered around Beck, looking up to the mirror.

"Look at yourself. You have to pull yourself together man!" said Stanley, pounding the major on the back for good measure.

"What...why?" asked Beck.

"Because that girl -" Stanley pointed at the wrinkled copy of the Report, laid out on the edge of the sink, " - is gone, history, last week's news. But there is a great woman in there just waiting for you to sweep her off her feet. It isn't going to happen if you keep hiding out in here!"

Beck leaned his hands on the sides of the sink, glancing up at himself in the mirror. The three faces around his nodded encouragingly.

"Let it go. Move on," said Bill.

"Seize the day!" said Eric.

"It's time," said Stanley, slowly picking up the piece of paper, now damp from the water droplets spilled on the sink, and handing it to Beck.

Beck looked down at the Report, solemnly considering it. The three men continued to silently egg him on. Very slowly, he stood to his full height, raising the paper into the air. The tension in the room could have been cut with a pocket knife.

"Move on," whispered Eric.

A cautious look on his face, Beck opened his hand and let the paper fall to the floor, fluttering as it descended in a spiral. It was soaked as it touched the bathroom floor, sticking to it instantly.

The three others cheered, clapping him on the back and shouting their congratulations.

"I knew you could do it!" exclaimed Bill.

"That's it!" said Stanley. "That's the way!"

"Great! Now all you have to do is go out and get her!" enthused Eric.

Beck had been beaming, but as all three turned to look at him expectantly, his grin faltered. "I don't...I don't know..."

Stanley tossed his hands, Bill grit his teeth, and Eric let out a tiny groan.

Emily opened her third wine cooler and clinked bottles with Mary. "To new beginnings!" said Emily. "To New Years! To new feelings!"

"Uh huh," said Mary, putting her half finished beer back down.

"You know, Green, I made fun of your taste earlier, but now I'm starting to think you and Eric are a good match." Emily nodded her approval.

"Uh, thanks," said Mary.

"Yeah, you really deserve each other," said Emily, with a laugh that turned into a snort.

Mary raised her eyebrows and sipped her beer.

"Ah, and to new babies!" said Emily as Mimi waddled back over to them. "Lots and lots of babies!"

Mimi did not look very enthused at the prospect, but looked away from Emily. "I picked the song," she said.

"You picked a song?" asked Emily.

"Yeah, just for you," said Mimi.

"And for new beginnings," said Mary with a calculating smile.

"For me?" asked Emily.

"Who else?" said Mimi. "It'll come on any moment now, and then you'll have your chance."

"A chance?" asked Emily.

"To make something happen, of course!" said Mary. "It's a new year, the night is young, time to make your move!"

"You think I should ask him?" asked Emily. "I should make the first move?"

"Yeah, why not?" asked Mimi.

"Doesn't always work for me. Not sure men like it," said Emily.

"Of course they do!" declared Mary.

"Hey, I asked Stanley to marry me!" said Mimi.

"I ask Eric for stuff all the time," added Mary.

"Well, you'd have to," began Emily, just as the opening chords of a familiar song began to fill the room.

"Honey I'm still free. Take a chance on me!" sang Mary and Mimi in unison.

Emily rolled her eyes, but she looked amused.

"Come on, let's get out there," said Mary, grabbing Emily's arm before she could protest.

"Take a chance!" agreed Mimi, following closely behind.

As Mary enthusiastically threw herself into the song and Mimi did her best to keep up, Emily surveyed the dance floor. "No reason you should get to do all the dancing, I guess."

There were other people dancing now, and Mary and Mimi waved as Gail and Gray swung by. Allison and Scott had taken to the floor and were laughing, though glancing over their shoulders now and then. Sean Henthorn made his way over to the trio, bopping his head along. Mary laughed as she turned to see who had tapped her shoulder.

"Why is Mom dancing with Gray?" asked Eric, putting his hands to her hips and swaying in time with her.

Mary shrugged. "Where's you-know-who?"

Eric was still staring over her shoulder, an irritated look on his face. "He's cleaning up."

"Well, he'd better hurry -"

"I'm going to cut in, that's what I'll do!" he muttered, stepping aside.

Mary tried not to laugh as Eric strode over to his mother and Gray, and Gray soon wandered away dejectedly. Mimi laughed out loud. Sean appeared between them then. "Can I have this dance?" he asked.

Mary and Mimi glanced at each other. "It'll help our cause," whispered Mimi. "And sounds like a job for you."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Okay," she said, stepping towards him.

Mimi rocked gently to the music herself, stepping back to survey the scene. Emily was still trying to cut a rug on the dance floor, but she was already glancing around in dismay at all the couples encircling her. Though it didn't look to Mimi like they were all having a great time, she was certain Emily thought so as the blond narrowed her eyes. Allison and Scott were dancing much farther apart then she imagined they would on a night Hawkins wasn't there, Eric was stealing suspicious looks over his mother's shoulder, oblivious to her attempts to get him to slow down as he careened around the room. She could hear Mary say loudly "Hands on my waist, Sean," as they passed by.

The baby seemed to be an Abba fan, and Mimi placed her hands on her stomach as she sashayed backwards, keeping her eyes peeled. Kenchy was in the far corner, occupied with his nurse friend and ignoring the free near beer someone had sent him anonymously. Gray Anderson was leaning against the wall, his arms folded, a small pout on his face. She turned, as if instinctively, to see Stanley and Bill standing in the doorway of the small hallway leading out to the bathrooms. Stanley nodded and Bill grinned excitedly.

She dashed over to Mary. "He's coming!"

Mary pulled herself away from Sean's grasp and the two of them found Emily in the middle of the floor.

"How come you get to dance with all the available men?" Emily moaned.

"Not all of them. Look!" said Mimi, pointing to where Stanley and Bill stood.

Emily's eyes went wide as they stepped aside and the figure of the major appeared in the doorway. He still looked clearly drunk to Mimi, and Mary could see the piece of toilet paper stuck to his shoe, but he was looking ahead with a determined gaze.

Emily said nothing. "Well, go get him!" said Mary.

"Take a chance!" said Mimi.

They shoved her forwards and watched her stumble across the floor in the major's direction.

"She's doing it! She's going to make her move!" exclaimed Mimi. She felt herself nearly bursting with laughter.

"Come on!" said Mary, grabbing her friend's arm and pulling her along as she retreated. Both women hid behind the bar, their hands on the surface as they leaned forward to watch.

Emily did a curious dip as she stepped towards the major, raising her arms over her head and shaking her hips before fixing him with an intense stare that she held for several seconds.

Mimi and Mary both collapsed behind the bar, laughing out loud as they were hidden by their refuge.

"Going to need help - to get up!" panted Mimi as she continued to laugh.

Mary had tears rolling down her face but she struggled to her feet. "Stanley!" she whispered, yanking his arm and pulling him behind the bar as he passed by.

"What?" he asked as he pulled his arm back and rubbed it with his other hand.

"Help!" giggled Mimi.

Stanley pulled Mimi to her feet and the three friends peered over the edge of the bar to watch the events unfolding on the dance floor.

"She's saying something!"

"He's looking kind of mad."

"No, that's his intensely interested look," interjected Stanley.

"She's doing that helpless laugh thing!"

"He's...smiling."

"She's...leaning closer...yes!"

The three friends high-fived, and collapsed again behind the bar where no one could see them laughing.

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

To continue in Auld Lang Syne: A Pursuit

"Take a Chance on Me" was written and recorded in 1977 by Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus, and was sung by Agnetha Fältskog and Anni-Frid Lyngstad, all of the Swedish pop group ABBA.

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

Auld Lang Syne: A Pursuit

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

10 PM, December 31, 2008

"Major!" Emily exclaimed suddenly.  She realized belatedly that she was staring.  "Beck!" she added a few seconds later when he didn't respond.  "Major Beck!  Happy New Year!"

He acknowledged her with a curt nod.  "Ms. Sullivan, uh, Happy New Year!"

"Emily - it's Emily," she announced, humming along with the jukebox for a few seconds.  "You should call me Emily," she invited, biting her lip.  She wasn't sure she needed to tell him that, but he did seem a little more proper - by the book - than your run-of-the-mill citizen of Jericho.  "I mean, everyone does.  That's what they call me.  Emily."

"Okay," he murmured.  "Emily.  And I'm Ed.  Or Eddie, if you prefer," Beck smiled. 

"Is that what your wife called you?" Emily inquired, pasting on an expression of interest she didn't really feel.  "Eddie?"  He frowned though, and she realized that perhaps it was the wrong question.  "Oh.  Oh!  Sorry!" she exclaimed giggling anxiously.  "That's not something I should be asking, is it?  Rewind!" Emily declared, spinning her hands around one another like she was reeling her words back in.  "And erase!" she finished, miming hitting a large button.

"Nah, it's okay," Beck decided, cracking a smile.  "But it's a new year, right?  Time to put the past behind us.  Least, that's what they tell me."

His smile was kind of nice, she thought, leaning toward him.  "Sounds like a plan, Ed," she flirted.  Their eyes locked for a long moment and Emily caught herself humming along with the song once more.  "Take a chance on me....we can go dancin'...."  Placing her hand on his chest, she cocked her head to one side, grinning softly.  "Ask me to dance, Ed," Emily ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, saluting her smartly.  "Dance with me, Emily?" he inquired, holding out his hand.

She giggled girlishly and then wrapped her fingers around his.  Spinning around, Emily held fast to Beck's hand over her shoulder.  She tugged him along, sashaying her way toward the dance floor.  The crowd parted like the Red Sea, everyone stopping to stare.  They were the center of attention, and that was exactly how Emily liked it.  "You want me to leave it there, afraid of a love affair," she sang along, glancing back at Beck, who - unfortunately - frowned as he considered her words.  Reaching the middle of the dancers, she turned around, and immediately pressed herself to him, forcing him to enfold her in his arms.  "My love is strong enough, to last when things are rough," she crooned, swaying against him.  "It's maaaa-gic!"

The press of Beck's - Ed's - hand against the small of her back was strong and masculine.  The smallest of shivers of anticipation ran up Emily's spine as he took control of the situation, leading their dance.  They were moving too slow for the song, really, but surprisingly she didn't mind.  "This is nice," he whispered, his mouth next to her ear.  She let her head rest against his shoulder. 

"A slow song would be nice," Emily murmured so quietly that she figured even Beck couldn't hear her.  Strangely though, someone seemed to have, because suddenly an unhurried and soulful melody emerged from the juke box. 

"Oh she may be weary, them young girls they do get wearied," the song began.  "Wearing that same old shaggy dress, but when she gets weary...you try a little tenderness."

"Now, this is more my speed," Beck chuckled huskily.  His hold on Emily loosened, much to her momentary disappointment, and then, squeezing her hand, he twirled her around slowly.

"Ed," she smiled, moving back into his arms.

At one side of the dance floor, Eric sucked down a deep breath and let go of his mother, whom he'd been leading in a fast paced dance around the edges of the surprisingly crowded space.  Too late, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gray Anderson appear.  The mayor held his hand out to Gail.  "Thought this might be more your speed - our speed."  The older man then stepped between Eric and his mother, cutting off Eric's access.  Over his shoulder, Gray offered his deputy a smug look.  "You might wanna check on Bill," he said with a nod toward the jukebox.  "He wanted to play that Titanic song." 

"My Heart Will Go On?" Eric guessed.  "Celine Dion?"

"That's the one," Gray confirmed, smiling at Gail.  "But I suggested we Try a Little Tenderness."  He started to lead her away, pausing only to spare Eric one last glance.  "Why don't you grab a beer and help Bill out," he suggested before dancing Gail into the crowd.

Fuming, but not knowing what else to do, Eric turned around and stomped off to the jukebox.  "We need a fast song next," he informed the deputy.

"Hey, I'm under orders to play romantic, slow dance songs for Johnny and Baby over there," Bill countered, pointing at Beck and Emily.  With a flourish, the major dipped her; Emily's delighted laugh was audible even where the two men stood toward the front of the tavern.  "Mary's orders," Bill added, directing Eric's attention to where his wife stood with Stanley and Mimi, all three studying the dance floor intently.  "I've got Hungry Eyes already cued up and ready to go."

"Dirty Dancing?" Eric snickered softly, allowing himself to be amused for a moment.  Then, however, he spotted his mother and Gray, pressed much too closely together for his comfort.  Expelling a frustrated breath, he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring daggers at the back of his boss's bald head.

"Hey, it's a good movie," Bill defended himself, "And you seem to know what I'm talkin' about."

"Yeah, well -" Eric protested before he realized he didn't really have a good retort.  "Well, never mind that.  What're you gonna play next?" he asked, turning around to scan the jukebox menu.  This way at least, he didn't have to watch Gray touching his mother.  He just needed to get a fast song into the queue but quick.  "How 'bout Love is a Battlefield?" he suggested.

Bill frowned.  "I don't think that qualifies."

"It's not a fast song," Eric argued with a shrug.  Of course, it wasn't exactly a slow song either, he acknowledged to himself, crossing his fingers behind his back.  "And it was one of Emily's favorites when we were kids.  And, you know, battlefield.  Beck's a soldier."

"Okay," the deputy nodded, conceding the point.  "Oh hey!" he practically crowed a beat later.  "I know a good one!  Fernando.  That's about a soldier, too.  A retired one, and we do kinda want Beck retired, right?"

"Another ABBA song?' Eric grumbled.  Bill's expression fell, and afraid of losing his cooperation, Eric quickly backpedaled.  "Hey, what am I saying?  Nothing wrong with a little ABBA, right?"  Try a Little Tenderness ended and the jukebox shuffled.  The opening strains of Hungry Eyes began to play, and he risked a look over his shoulder.  His mother was still stuck in Gray's clutches.  Eric reached for a quarter from the bowl Mary left on top of the unit and fed it into the coin slot, selecting H-14.  "Love is a Battlefield coming up next."  He reached for another quarter.  "Then Fernando.  You know, you could go cut in on -"

"No way," Bill objected, shaking his head.  "Gray Anderson's your problem, not mine.  Now, how 'bout I Will Always Love You next?"

"You sure that we want Bill DJing?" Mimi asked, glancing sideways at Mary while, with both hands, she rubbed gentle circles over her pregnant belly.  The chorus of Hungry Eyes came up and she wrinkled her nose.  "Dirty Dancing?  Let's hope they refrain."

Snorting, Stanley took a swig of his beer.  "No kiddin'.  But I think the song's working," he continued, wrapping one arm around his wife's shoulders.  Emily had her cheek pressed to the major's chest (Stanley marveled silently that his shirt wasn't damp or sticky with tears or snot) and Beck was running his fingers through her hair.  Pressed together as they were, they didn't bother to do much but sway in time to the music.  "And Emily seriously loved the movie.  It's like one of the top ten things I remember from high school."

"It'll be fine," Mary added, "Eric's with him."

Mimi and Stanley exchanged identical pained looks.  "Are you sure you don't want to go supervise?" Mimi urged her friend.

"Eric's always telling me about how he starred in three musicals in high school.  It'll be fine," Mary repeated.

"Exactly," Stanley muttered, "Eric starred in three musicals in high school.  Oklahoma, West Side Story, and The Music Man," he counted off on his fingers.    "So I'm sure it'll be fine," he said, tipping back his beer bottle.  "Bring on the Seventy Six Trombones."

"Don't forget The Surrey with the Fringe on Top," Mimi joked.   "Always a crowd pleaser."

"Okay, fine," Mary grumbled, "I'll go supervise."

"Hey!" Mimi called after her friend.  Mary stopped, glancing back over her shoulder.  "How about In Your Eyes?" she suggested, leaning against Stanley's arm.  Immediately, he wrapped his around her.

"So 're you a Peter Gabriel fan or was it just John Cusack in Say Anything?" Mary questioned, amusement clearly written in her expression.

"I may have at one time, for a very brief period when I was sixteen, wanted to be Ione Skye," Mimi admitted with a soft laugh. 

Mary shook her head, smiling as Mimi and Stanley exchanged a quick kiss.  "That explains so much," she snickered before starting once more toward the jukebox.   Surprisingly however, she couldn't get within five feet of the unit.  A small crowd had gathered, and Bill and Eric were standing guard. 

"People, look!" Eric shouted over the disgruntled patrons, "We have a situation that I can't get into, but which requires that I declare eminent domain and take control of the jukebox for the next hour, maybe two -"

"Two hours!" Lisa Whalley screeched, "You have got to be kidding!  That'll be after midnight, and what's the point then?"

"Really, Eric, how can the jukebox be under eminent domain?" Harry Carmichael argued, casting a distracted look at the nearly hysterical teenager.  "It's a jukebox."

"Well it is," Bill insisted obstinately.  He puffed his chest out importantly.  "Under the authority of Mayor Anderson and Mary Bailey.  Uh, Mary Bailey-Green," he corrected with a quick glance at Eric.

Her hands on her hips, Chloe Walcott turned around to glare at Mary, who was standing directly behind her.  "This is really okay with you?"

"It's for a good cause," Mary assured, stepping around Chloe and her husband, Gary.  Eric held his hand out to her, and she accepted it with a smile.  He pulled her to stand in front of the jukebox with him and Bill, giving her an even clearer view of the hostile crowd facing them.  "How about you all tell us your requests, and if they fit the - the -"

"The needs of the current situation," Eric completed for her, squeezing her hand.  "We'll consider it.  Them."

"Tubthumping," Lisa demanded immediately.  "That's what I want.  It's a song you can actually dance to in a group, and it's not so stupidly romantic."

"Tubthumping?" Eric repeated, his tone incredulous.  "I get knocked down, but I get up again?  That's not even on the jukebox."

"Well it should be!" she huffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.  Glancing to her left, she fixed her glare on the teenage boy standing beside her, demanding, "C'mon, Sean.  This place is just so low class."

Sean, amazingly, looked completely cowed.  "Uh, sure, Lise," he mumbled, starting to follow after her. 

Mary grabbed his arm, stopping him.  "You and Lisa Whalley?"

"Hell no," Sean returned, almost sneering.  "She got dumped yesterday so I feel bad for her, that's all," he shrugged.  "And besides, nobody's here yet."

"We want Nothing Compares 2 U," Chloe interjected. 

"Uhhh!" Bill declared, imitating a game show buzzer and affecting a nauseous expression.  "No bald chicks.  Harry?"

"Smoke Gets in Your Eyes," he requested hopefully.  "For Lorraine.  It's our song.  We met on New Year's 1987.  And we danced to that song."

"That one I think we can accommodate," Eric decided, reaching for a quarter.  "It meets the slow and romantic requirement."

"Hey!" Chloe protested.  "So does Nothing Compares 2 U."

"We also have a not depressing requirement," Bill informed her, rolling his eyes.  "Hey, Eric.  My Heart Will Go On.  I'm telling you, women love that song."

Mary flashed the deputy an incredulous look.  "Well, I'm not going to claim to speak for all of womankind, but, uh, not so much.  Okay, look," she continued, taking a breath, "First, we've got a request for In Your Eyes.  And second, if you two think you'll be okay here," she said, glancing back and forth between her husband and Bill, "I'm gonna go do some reconnaissance.  Wish me luck!"

"Luck!" Eric joked, giving her a quick kiss. "Though, while you're over there, if there's anyway you can -"

"So, you want me to cut in and dance with Gray or with your Mom?" she asked, rolling her eyes.  Mary didn't wait for his answer and, shaking her head the whole time, made her way over to the edge of the dance floor.  Fernando gave way to I Will Always Love You, and on the other side of the dance floor, Emily and Major Beck moved closer together.  "Wow," Mary muttered to herself.  None of them had expected the plan to work quite this well.  They actually seemed to like each other.  From her vantage point, it looked like Emily was singing along with the song, and amazingly, this seemed to enchant Beck just that much more. 

"Worked like a charm, didn't it?" Gail inquired as she and Gray danced into range. 

"Yeah," Mary agreed, nodding absently as they circled her.  "It's a little scary."  Her gaze focused on the mayor then, and she decided that it was now or never.  "Hate to interrupt," she announced cheerfully, her fingers crossed behind her back, "But I need to cut in, Gray.  Gail, uh," she added, scanning the crowd quickly, "Mr. Hawkins needs a consult on phase two."

"Of course, dear," Gail declared, smiling thankfully at her daughter-in-law.  "If you'll excuse me, Gray?"

He looked less than thrilled at this development, but nodded his agreement and then surprised Mary by holding his hand out to her.  "Shall we?" he asked, "I mean, we're still on surveillance, right?"

"Well, somebody has to," Mary chuckled, accepting the hand of her fifth dance partner of the evening.  Thankfully, I Will Always Love You was drawing to a close - it was definitely not the song Mary wanted to be doing the two-step to with Gray Anderson - and Smoke Gets In Your Eyes began to play.

Gray, apparently taking their surveillance duties very seriously, managed to quickly maneuver them to within a few feet of the happy couple.  And, Beck and Emily did seem to be enjoying themselves.  They whispered back and forth, giggling softly.  Emily braced herself against the major's shoulder, standing on tiptoe to whisper something into his ear.  Laughing, Beck wrapped his arms more tightly around her, spinning her around.  "Bizarre," Gray muttered.  He caught Mary's eye then and, changing the subject, asked, "So, Gail.  Do you think she'd like a mink fur hat?  You know, to keep her head warm?"

"Uh, sure," Mary answered, though she really had no idea.  Did he mean one of those Russian fur hats that looked like you were wearing a giant bottle cap?  She had to stifle a snort as she got a mental picture of her mother-in-law in such a hat.   "I mean, if it's to keep her head warm, right?"  When you put it that way, Mary supposed, it could be seen as a thoughtful - if weird - gift.  "Who wouldn't want one?" she asked, crossing her fingers behind her back.

"That's what I was thinking!" Gray smiled.  "I - you know - have some contacts."

Mary nodded.  She was pretty sure that, these days, Gray's contacts were the same contacts she had - namely, Dale Turner and Skylar Stevens - but if he wanted to get her mother-in-law an expensive present.... Mary groaned.  She could only hope that Gail wouldn't accept the hat, or that if she did, Eric never learned that she'd advised Gray about his choice of gift.

"So..." he started again, only to be interrupted as the jukebox switched over, the opening line - Can anybody find me...somebody to love? - of a Queen song swelling throughout the tavern.  On the dance floor, couples who had been wrapped around each other for the much slower Smoke Gets in Your Eyes separated reluctantly, moving into a faster dance step.  Gray, having lost his train of thought, concentrated on the lyrics, nodding at one that really seemed to speak to him.  "Don't think I know this one," he admitted to Mary, leading her in a circle around Beck and Emily.  Mary, however, was saved from having to respond when Hawkins and Gail danced by, leaving Gray gaping.  "But - but he's married!" he fumed.

"That's what I said," Emily interjected, looking over her shoulder at the mayor and rolling her eyes.

"C'mon," Mary muttered.  She figured it wasn't a good idea to be so close to their marks that they could be overheard and she wanted to put another five or ten feet between them.  Gray, though, was glaring daggers at Hawkins - who was glaring daggers at Scott Nystrom - and Mary had to resort to stepping on Gray's toes in order to draw his attention away from the other couple.  "They're just doing what we're doing," she consoled, catching his forlorn expression.  "Surveillance."

"You - you had a hard time winning Gail over, right?" Gray questioned, frowning.  "After - well, after everything.  But you two get along now, right?  I need to find a better way to get along with Eric," he confessed.  "And Jake," he added a beat later, making a face.  "Any advice?"

"Oh," she whispered.  Mary found herself in the highly unexpected position of almost feeling sorry for Gray Anderson.  But really, what good would it do to give the man hope?  She'd told Eric that it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if his mother were to move on, but there was just no way Gail would ever in a million years....  Mary shook her head to clear it.  This was just crazy.  "It, uh, it took us a long time, you know.  About all I can say is, 'if at first you don't succeed, try, try again'?" 

Gray considered this advice for a moment and then smiled.  "Thank you, Mary."

Groaning, Mary offered her own weak smile in return.  Why in the world had she said that?!?  Gray would never give up now, and she was so screwed.  "No problem."

She was saved from further interrogation about her mother-in-law's preferences by the jukebox.  The song switched again and, amazingly, Gail recognized the song seconds before Mary did.  The older woman's gasp - along with Hawkins' murderous grunt - was audible halfway across the dance floor, drawing glances from nearly every couple save Emily and Beck, who continued to dance quite closely, oblivious to everything going on around them.  "Eric Gregory!" Gail shrieked, stomping off in the direction of the jukebox.  Hawkins, arms crossed over his chest and chin jutting out dangerously, caught his daughter's date's eye, glaring.  The two quickly separated.   "William Leslie!" Gail continued, still yelling at the top of her lungs.  "Stanley George!"

Stanley, Mary realized, had joined the other two men at the jukebox at some point, leaving Mimi - who was hiding a snicker behind her hand - alone back at the conspirators' booth.  Now the three men stood in a line in front of the jukebox, as if to protect it.   They looked like nothing so much as little boys in their identical expressions of guilt mixed with fear, Mary thought, chuckling softly to herself.  Meanwhile, Marvin Gaye continued to sing about his desire for Sexual Healing.

"What a woman!" Gray declared, startling Mary.  They'd stopped dancing when everyone else had, and with the spectacle playing out before her, she'd forgotten he was there. 

"Yeah," Mary agreed distractedly, her attention given over to the discussion taking place on the other side of her tavern.  She couldn't hear what was being said over the music and the ambient noise of the crowd, but she could well imagine, based on their gestures and body language, that Gail had demanded that they turn the song off, and that Eric was trying to explain that given how the jukebox had been jury rigged into working again after the EMP, it was impossible.

"So, Eric's initials are really EGG?  Egg?" Gray inquired, surprising his dance partner once again.  He was clearly amused by the idea.

"They really are," Mary confirmed, fighting to not giggle.  "Gail blames thirty seven hours of labor.  I'm gonna go check in with Mimi, okay?" she asked a few seconds later.  Gray nodded, and after flashing him one more smile, she headed over to the booth where Mimi was smirking into her fourth glass of cider.  "What were they thinking?" she asked, cocking her head toward the jukebox as she slid in next to her friend.

"No idea.  I sent Stanley over with a request for Stop! In the Name of Love and instead the Three Amigos picked this," Mimi explained.

"Stop! In the Name of Love?" Mary laughed, "Didn't realize you were such a Motown fan."

Mimi shrugged.  "Nothing wrong with a little Supremes.  Didn't you ever, you know, just dance around to Baby Love or I Hear a Symphony in your pajamas at a slumber party?" 

"Okay, so maybe at Becky Walter's birthday sleepover in the fifth grade there may have been some dancing," Mary admitted, allowing an embarrassed chuckle.  "With hand motions.  Stop! In the Name of Love, You Can't Hurry Love," she shrugged.

"Ha!  I can so picture -"  Mimi was interrupted by the abrupt end of the song mid-chorus, which was immediately followed by a loud scratching sound that reverberated through the tavern.  The two women looked toward the jukebox where Eric stood holding a record, a horrified expression on his face.  Mimi winced sympathetically.  "Oh dear.  Sorry."

"I'm sure I didn't need that record anyway," Mary groaned softly.  "So...the plan seems to be working," she offered a few seconds later, her voice pitched low, as the subjects of the plan moved to the edge of the dance floor, laughing and gasping for breath.

"Guess Mrs. Green thinks that song's a little too hot to handle," Beck chuckled, wrapping his arms loosely around Emily's waist.  "Just like someone I could mention," he grinned, kissing her.

"Well, I don't think I'm too hot to handle," Emily tittered, forcing Mimi and Mary to look anywhere but at the couple in order to hide their matching grimaces.  "C'mon," Emily whispered, reaching back for the major's hand.  Lacing their fingers together, she dragged him back into the center of the packed dance floor, the crowd parting obligingly before them.

Watching them go, Mimi shuddered.  "Okay, this plan may be working too well."

"You have no idea," Mary groaned.

"They say we're young and we don't know.  We won't find out until we grow..." The opening line of I Got You Babe emanated from the restored jukebox and the couples on the floor moved back into one another's arms.  "Well, I don't know if all that's true, 'cause you got me, and baby I got you.  Babe..." 

Mary glanced toward the jukebox and was relieved to see that her mother-in-law was smiling once more.  Stanley had abandoned his amigos and was striding across the tavern toward their booth.  "Hmm, I wonder who picked this one," she teased her friend.

"I got you babe," Stanley sang, slightly off key.  He smiled at his wife and held his hand out to her.  "I got you babe," he grinned, pulling her to her feet.  "I got you too, baby," he added, addressing Mimi's burgeoning belly. 

"This is not the song I requested," she reminded, trying without success to maintain a disapproving look.

Stanley's only answer was to sing along with the next verse.  "I got flowers in the spring.  I got you to wear my ring," he warbled along with Sonny.  Taking a step back and pulling her along, he continued right into the female part, singing, "And when I'm sad, you're a clown, and if I get scared, you're always around."

Mimi couldn't help but smile at the appropriateness of the lyrics.  "I'm a little scared that you know all the words," she giggled, following him onto the dance floor.

"Who doesn't know Sonny and Cher?" Stanley argued, somehow getting her to follow his lead in a modified swing step.  "I got you babe!"

Smiling at her friends' obvious love and affection for one another - a blessed contrast to the rather disturbing experience of watching Emily and Beck flirt - Mary pulled herself up and out of the booth and headed for the jukebox.  Gray, rather predictably, had wandered over to join Gail and was now involved in an argument over what song to play next with Eric and Bill.  Gail listened, ready to intervene, but offered no suggestions.

"In the Midnight Hour," Bill suggested as Eric slipped an arm around Mary, drawing her against his side.  "You know, 'I'm gonna wait 'til the midnight hour'," Bill sang flatly, "'That's when my love comes tumblin' -"

"It's a quarter to eleven!" Eric protested.  "Don't you think we should save that for midnight?  Seeing how that's the whole point of this evening.  Midnight."

"Absolutely right, Eric," Gray pronounced, earning a suspicious frown from his deputy.  "How 'bout Whiter Shade of Pale?  I always liked that one."

"We skipped the light fandango?" Bill snorted, shaking his head.  "Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor?"

"One of sixteen vestal virgins who were leaving for the coast?" Mary added, throwing a significant look in her mother-in-law's direction.  "I don't know, Gray."

Before the mayor could answer, Bill turned around and punched a button.  "There," he declared, chin jutting out defiantly as he turned to face the rest of the ad hoc jukebox steering committee.  "We don't want dead air, right?"

A familiar upbeat tempo began to emanate from the jukebox's speakers.  Mary giggled, throwing Bill an odd look.  "I'm Gonna Be?" she guessed, "Five Hundred Miles?"  She'd always liked the song, and she even considered it to be a romantic, but it was - she had to admit - somewhat unconventionally romantic.  She was rather amazed that Bill - who thought all women loved My Heart Will Go On - had picked it.

"It's a good song," the deputy protested, crossing his arms over his chest.

Smiling, Mary nodded her agreement, laughing when Eric kissed her ear, singing along with The Proclaimers, "If I get drunk, well I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you."

"You sure that's a good idea?" she teased, squeezing her husband's hand.

Eric didn't answer, settling instead for rolling his eyes and belting out, "But I would walk five hundred miles, and I would walk five hundred more, just to be the man who walks a thousand miles to fall down at your door!"

"Hey look at that," Gray interrupted, directing their attention to the dance floor. 

Amazingly, Major Beck, assisted by Emily, who was laughing and beaming at her partner, were leading a bizarre line dance that nearly everyone - Stanley and Mimi seemed to be trying to escape - was participating in.  During the chorus, they all marched in place with great enthusiasm, and then with a dramatic flair that would have done Eric proud, Beck actually did fall to his knees in front of Emily.  A good portion of the men followed his lead, falling down in front of their dates, though unfortunately, Gary Walcott, in his exuberance, appeared to throw his back out.

"Oh my goodness," Gail murmured, summing up the situation for them all.

On the dance floor, Stanley followed closely behind his wife as they snaked their way through the marching crowd.  They were just about clear when Beck grabbed his arm.  "Stanley!" he shouted, a wide grin lighting his face.  Stanley could hardly believe the transformation in the man; there wasn't a visible trace of tears or mucus anywhere on him.  "Join us!  And when the money comes in for the work I do," he sang, flashing a grin over his shoulder at Emily.  "I'll pass almost every penny on to you."

"Uh, looks a little too strenuous for my date," Stanley yelled back, nodding at Mimi who'd moved safely out of the way and stood watching them, both her hands resting on top of her pregnant belly.  "May - maybe next time."

"Of course," Beck acknowledged, his expression turning serious, though thankfully not maudlin.  "You're right!  You go take care of her," he ordered, clapping Stanley on  the shoulder.  "And that baby.  That baby's the future."

Joining the rest of the conspirators gathered around the jukebox, Stanley couldn't help but observe, "You know, I think the plan's workin' a little too well."  Mesmerized by the spectacle before them, the others simply nodded their agreement.

The song and dance came to an end.  Around Emily and Beck, a number of people allowed disappointed groans before cheering softly - surprisingly - for Major Beck.  As the crowd dispersed, Emil threw her arms around him, beaming.  "Oh, Ed!" she proclaimed, "That was fun!  You're really a lot of fun, you know that?"

"It's been awhile since I had this much fun," he admitted, smiling in return.  "I think you're good for me, Emily Sullivan."  She kissed him in reward.  Elton John's Your Song began to play and Beck pulled her close.  She twined her arms around his neck, humming along with the melody.  "This in nice," he sighed, pressing a kiss to her hairline.  Dancing, they circled around slowly and, catching sight of Mimi across the room, Beck couldn't help but ask, "So, do you like kids?"

Emily pulled back slightly, smiling at him.  "Of course!  I just can't wait to have one of my own," she declared enthusiastically.  Out of the corner of her eye, Emily caught sight of Robert Hawkins skulking around the edge of the dance floor as he closely observed Allison and her boyfriend.  "So, is that the kind of dad you'd be?" she teased Beck, pointing out the hyper vigilant father.  "Following your daughter around?  Spying on her dates?" she giggled.

He offered her a melancholic smile, and for a moment Emily worried that she'd said the wrong thing, remembering belatedly that somewhere she'd heard that he'd not only been married before the bombs, but that he'd had a daughter.  Maybe he didn't want kids!  Maybe she was coming on too strong.... 

Beck cleared his throat, twirling her around slowly.  "Well, you never know," he murmured, joking, "I might be worse!  So, we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"

 "Guess so," she sighed, relieved.  Emily leaned against the major, resting her head on his shoulder.  Surprisingly, she liked being with him, she liked being in his arms.  And, when she remembered how everyone had joined in, following his lead for the dance... he really was a natural born leader.  Wasn't that what Mimi and Mary had said?  Emily wasn't sure she could really trust them, but still she could see this relationship working out.  Her supposed best friend might have him, but she could have an honest to goodness army major, one that - with her help - could lead this town one day.  That was definitely better than sheriff, or deputy mayor, or even mayor - all those merely midlevel positions the Greens aspired to.  Emily raised her head, smiling contentedly and pressing her mouth to his.  "Just have to wait and see," she whispered.

The song changed again.  It was faster than the last one, requiring a more energetic dancing and Beck reluctantly let his partner out of his embrace, though he kept possession of both her hands.  He knew this song, and he'd always liked it.  And tonight, the words just seemed to speak to him. 

"Oh what a night," Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons crooned.  "You know I didn't even know her name."

Emily, Beck reminded himself.  Her name was Emily.  So that part wasn't exactly right, but the rest was dead on.  He pulled her close, breathing, "Emily."

"Ed," she grinned in returned, pulling away and dancing around him.

She was, he decided then, a force to be reckoned with. "What a lady, what a night," he hummed along with the jukebox.  "Oh, I got a funny feeling when she walked in the room, and as I recall, it ended much too soon," the song continued.  Beck was pretty sure she'd been there when he'd arrived at the tavern hours earlier, but he had gotten a little bit of a funny feeling - a thrill of anticipation - when he'd asked her to dance.  And, he realized, momentarily stunned by the thought, he didn't want this to end, certainly not any time soon.  "Hypnotizing, mesmerizing me, she was everything I dreamed she'd be.  Sweet surrender, what a night!"

Sweet surrender, indeed, Beck thought, drawing Emily back into his arms and then dipping her with a flourish.  He was hypnotized.  And mesmerized.  There was just something about her.

"Why'd it take so long to see the light?  Seemed so wrong, but now it seems so right," The Four Seasons continued.  "What a lady, what a night!"

It had taken him a long time to see the light.  Too long.  It was over two years since the bombs, and nineteen, twenty months that he'd been in Jericho.  It was time he moved on, Beck decided, Eric, Stanley and Bill were right about that.  At one time they'd been his enemies, but now he realized, they were true friends.  He hugged her close, burying his face in her hair.  "Emily," he sighed.

"Well, I think it's time for another round of reconnaissance," Gray announced, holding his hand out to Gail.  "Shall we?"

"Uh, we'll go," Eric interjected quickly, grabbing Mary's arm.  "You all better pick out the next song," he suggested over his shoulder, already dragging his wife toward the dance floor.

"You'll have to do that without me," Mimi informed the remaining four.  "I need to make a trip to the little girl's room."

"I'll walk you," Stanley offered quickly.

"So, what should we pick?" Gray asked, stepping closer to the jukebox.  He surveyed the menu, mumbling to himself, "Something romantic... something romantic."

"Whatever we pick, it needs to be good," Bill argued, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at a hopeful looking Art Robeson as he approached the unit.  "I can't keep putting people off forever," he muttered.  "Sorry, Art!" he continued using what he liked to think of as his 'crowd control' voice.  "Try back in fifteen."

"I just got engaged, Bill," Art protested.

But the deputy was unmoved.  "Fifteen," he repeated, "It's for the good - the good of the town.  See what I mean?" he asked glancing sideways at Gray and Gail.  "Thank God Lisa Whalley's disappeared.  That girl's got a screech that hits registers only dogs can hear," Bill complained.  "Gives me a headache."  Silently they watched as Gary Walcott, propped up between his wife and younger brother, hobbled toward the door.  "Least Chloe won't be requesting any more Sine-Aid," he chortled, "But seriously, I think we need to pick one, maybe two more songs.  It's either gonna work or it's not, right?"

"And it seems to be workin'," Gray observed, nodding toward Beck and Emily who danced on, seemingly oblivious to the crowd around them. 

"Well then, what we need is a piece de resistance," Gail decided as she squeezed in between the two men and began to study the display.

"Some Lionel Ritchie, maybe?  Or some Chicago?  Beatles?" Gray suggested. 

"All good," she agreed, "But I think we want E-1.  It's perfect."

Bill leaned over Gail to read, pushing her into Gray, not that he minded.  "For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her?"

What a dream I had, pressed in organdy...

"It's my song!" Emily gasped suddenly, raising her head.  Beck's expression was questioning.  "Well, I don't own it," she giggled, "But it's got my name.  Not in the song actually, but in the title," she explained, smiling softly.  "For Emily, Wherever I May Find Her."

Clothed in crinoline of smoky burgundy.  Softer than the rain...

Beck strained to hear the words.  Simon and Garfunkel he guessed finally.  He wasn't a fan - they were a little too granola for his tastes - but he'd seen The Graduate, so he knew what they sounded like. 

I wandered empty streets down past the shop displays, I heard cathedral bells tripping down the alleyways.  As I walked on...

Instinctively, Beck tightened his hold on her, tucking Emily's head against his chest.

And when you ran to me, your cheeks flushed with the night, we walked on frosted fields of juniper and lamplight.  I held your hand...

Beck let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.  Emily clutched at his shirt, her fingers curling in the fabric.  He laid his hand over hers, moving it two inches left so that it rested over his heart.

And when I awoke and felt you warm and near, I kissed your honey hair with my grateful tears...

"I love this part," she sighed, her breath warm against the skin of his neck, just above his shirt collar.

Oh I love you, girl.  Oh, I love you.

"Emily," he whispered in return.  He didn't know what else to say, he was just so overwhelmed by her...and so tired of being alone.  But he didn't have to be alone anymore.  "Emily," he repeated, lifting her chin with one finger.  He pressed a kiss to her mouth.  "Marry me?"

"Oh, God," Mary squeaked into Eric's shoulder.  She pushed him as hard as she could, forcing him to back up, bashing him into five people in quick succession.  They yelped and yelled, protesting the assault on their persons, but she didn't hear. 

Mary faced her husband, his wide-eyed, gaping like a guppy expression a perfect match for her own. "Uh, I think we may have overshot with the plan," Eric groaned softly.  In the next instance he grabbed her, pulling her to him and assuming a tango pose.  "Coming through!" he shouted.  "Coming through!" they yelled in unison, bumping into yet more customers as they made a high-stepping beeline toward their booth.



* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
11 PM, December 31, 2008

A gleeful trio had gathered around the jukebox, pressing in closely to look over the selections. "I want something from this century," Emma Blythe was saying to her Jericho High classmates. Scott and Allison looked doubtfully down at the song titles.

"Hey, I heard someone had commandeered the music," said Matt Jenkins, walking up to the group and kissing Emma quickly.

"Someone did, but they're gone now," said Scott, and he and Allison glanced over at the booth in the corner. "They got called away for some kind of crisis," said Allison.

The occupants of the booth did appear to be in crisis mode. They sat close together around the circular table, their heads leaning in, whispering frantically and glancing around the room.

"I just can't believe how well our plan worked," said Eric, for what Mimi noted was the seventh time. 

"This was not the original intent of our plan," Gail countered, for the third time, Mimi thought to herself.

"I don't see what the big deal is," said Bill from across the table. "It's not like it means anything. They're just drunk and having a good time on New Year's."

"Yeah, I'm sure it's happened before," said Stanley, wedged uncomfortably between Mimi and Bill.

"But there could be consequences. Liabilities. Ramifications," squeaked Eric, his voice getting higher with each possibility.

"For what, a proposal that someone decided to make on their own? No one here told him to ask her to marry him," said Mimi.

"I still can't believe it," said Eric, and Mimi fixed him with an annoyed expression as her mental tally climbed.

"I can't believe she said yes. She really said yes?" asked Stanley.

"She said yes," came Mary's voice. They turned to look over at her as she put a hand on the edge of the bench and slid in beside Eric. Emily had waltzed over and asked for the bar-owner's  attention a few minutes earlier and Mary had reluctantly left the group to continue reeling over what she and Eric had overheard. Now her face was a picture of shock as she absently leaned against her husband in the crowded booth. "She is serious."

Mimi raised her eyebrows and whispered something under her breath as Stanley let out a low whistle. Bill chuckled. Gail flashed him a reproachful look. "What? She's not going to actually marry him," he added.

"Oh, she is," said Mary in a curiously cheery voice that didn't match her facial expression.

"Well, even if she is, you can't be held liable," said Mimi. "A drunken proposal can't be blamed on the server. Or the establishment."

"Well, I'm glad you think so. Emily just asked me if she could hold her wedding here," said Mary.

Around the table, eyes popped out of sockets and mouths dropped open. Bill was the only one who looked non-plussed. "So? You have a right to refuse to hold a wedding here."

Gail cleared her throat and added, "And a few months to figure out how to turn her down."

Mary still had a look of shock on her face as she shook her head. "No, I really don't."

Eric turned to look at her, concerned that she was still using the strangely cheery voice.

"Okay, what's going on?" asked Stanley. "What now?"

Gray appeared at the table that moment. His expression mirrored Mary's. He looked as though he'd seen a ghost.

"What?" asked Bill.

Gray sputtered, but seemed unable to speak.

"What?" it was Gail's turn to ask. She looked from her would-be suitor to her daughter-in-law. "Mary Kathleen, tell me what's going on!"

Mary's eyes widened even farther as she answered, "Emily told me she wants to get married here...tonight!"

Though the rest of the bar was filled with the sounds of celebrating patrons and Emma Blythe's music selection, the circular booth was plunged into a dead silence.

Gray awkwardly broke it a moment later, saying, "And Beck just asked me to go 'whip up a marriage license'."

The conspirators gasped as if in one breath. Several seconds passed, though it would be hard to say how many as even Mimi wasn't counting.

"How bad is this?" asked Gray, breaking the silence once again, a grimace on his face.

"Oh, it's bad," Eric began, flashing him an angry look. "When we decided to set them up, we never knew -"

"Exactly!" cut in Mimi. "We didn't know they'd do this. They made this decision themselves. We're not responsible."

"Easy for you to say," Eric countered. "You can't seriously think we should let them go through with this."

"But Emily is serious," murmured Mary. "She -"

"Oh, there you all are!" came the voice of Emily herself, who had appeared suddenly at their table. Gray jumped at the sound, and quickly squished into the booth beside Mary. Emily took no notice of the mayor's scrambling to get away from her, turning to beam at the group as she spoke.

"I take it you've all heard the news," she gushed. Her smile grew slightly smaller as they stared back at her, open-mouthed. "Of my forthcoming marriage!" she added emphatically. She looked from blank face to blank face. "Well, aren't you going to say you're happy for me?"

"Uh, of course sweetheart," stammered Gail. "We're very...happy for you." Gray nodded dazedly.

"Yeah, I know," said Emily. "Well, Ed and I really want all our friends there, so I guess that means we want all of you to be there." She laughed to herself. "But it's not like you're going to go anywhere, is it?"

Gail noticed her son and daughter-in-law looking very distraught as they considered, she was certain, the prospect of hosting a Sullivan-Beck merger in their establishment. "Emily, are you sure this is what you want? Sure you don't want to think about it?"

"I'm done with thinking!" Emily proclaimed. It was a mark of the absurdity of the situation that even Stanley couldn't come up with a smart remark to whisper under his breath. "I want a New Year's Eve wedding. At the stroke of midnight. New Year's Eve is the most romantic night of the year. I'm not waiting til next year. I'm not going to be one of those people who doesn't seize the day." She pointedly looked directly at Eric, who recovered from his shock enough to narrow his eyes.

"And you have to have it here?" asked Bill.

Emily looked slightly annoyed by that question. "Well, this is where everyone is. Since there's no time to send out invitations, we have to take it where the party is. However lame it may be," she said, smiling through her sarcastic tone. "So that's why I'm turning to all of you. My friends." She swallowed, and Eric wondered if she had realized how fake her last statement had sounded. She pushed on, plastering a smile on her face. "I was hoping you could all help me pull off a beautiful, romantic wedding."

Mimi finally regained her power of speech. "Don't you think an hour is a little short notice? For a wedding, you need flowers, music, paperwork, someone to officiate, guests, dresses for the bridesmaids, bridesmaids..." As she trailed off, she couldn't help but exchange a worried look with Mary. Emily seemed to catch it, but only laughed.

"Don't worry, I don't want you. You were just her bridesmaids last week. I don't want leftovers. Besides, you look like you could pop at any moment, and that would not look pretty in the wedding pictures. Oh, pictures!" Emily moved quickly to her next problem, not catching the dangerous look Mimi shot in her direction, or the one Stanley was sending her way as he said, "We didn't have pictures at our wedding."

"You didn't marry an army major either," said Emily. "I want this to be perfect. I want this night to be memorable."

"More chance of the second," mumbled Eric.

"So are you all going to help or what?" asked Emily. "Come on, you know all about weddings," she shot at Eric. "I need you guys."

Most of the occupants of the booth seemed to be avoiding her gaze. Stanley was studying the table intensely, Mimi seemed to be tapping a rhythm with her fingers against her pregnant belly, Gail was absently twisting the ring on her finger, Gray was watching Gail as subtly as he could, and Mary and Eric seemed to be engaged in some kind of silent dialogue, sending each other sideways looks. Only Bill couldn't find anywhere else to look as Emily raised her eyebrows. "Well?"

"Uh..." stammered Bill, looking around for help - "Sounds good?"

"Great! I knew I could count on you!" oozed Emily. She promptly turned to the first person she could reach, Mimi, who was sitting on the end of the bench, and grabbed her in an enthusiastic hug, rocking from side to side before she let go. Mimi grimaced. On the other side of the table, Gray shrunk back into the booth, squishing Mary further into Eric and prompting an angry glare from the deputy mayor, who was attempting to shuffle them all down the bench.

Emily, however, soldiered on, getting right down to business. She gripped the edges of the table, leaning forward. "Okay, so we'll need everything she said. Flowers, photos, clothes, an aisle for me to walk down, somewhere for the guests to sit, music, food, someone to perform the ceremony, people to be in the ceremony, and, you know, the paperwork and stuff." She let out a breath after rattling out the list. She glanced around at her silent audience. "You can be wedding planner, you're that type," she said, looking at Mimi. "And you, you can be her consultant, Green."

Eric, Mary, and Gail exchanged looks. "The bouquet-tossing Green," said Emily, pointing her finger at Mary. "Consult on wedding stuff. I want this one to top the last one." She turned to Eric. "And you can consult for Ed, since you have lots of groom experience." She chortled, turning to Bill. "You can do security," and then to Stanley, "You can do the heavy lifting. And you're the mayor, so..." she trailed off as she contemplated Gray. "You can make sure no one disturbs the peace." Lastly, she glanced at Gail. "And you can make everyone do what they're supposed to do, Mrs. Green."

Gail was watching Emily now with a strange expression. She had pursed her lips together in a small smile, and she nodded. "Alright, Emily."

Gail's change in mood seemed to affect the rest of the table, who were now looking back at Emily with interest. Emily seemed to grow even more enthusiastic as she looked around at them. "Oh, great! I'm going to go tell Eddie that you're all on board, and then we can get started! Because I'm getting married!" She shouted the last part as loudly as she could, throwing her arms up in the air, and glancing around to see how many bar patrons were looking. Indeed, quite a few had turned to stare.

Beaming, she waltzed away.

Around the table, sly looks were being exchanged.

"So, is anyone still going to object to the big Sullivan-Beck wedding being held here tonight?" asked Bill.

"I say we plan her a wedding she'll never forget!" said Stanley.

"She wants a party, let's give her what she wants," nodded Mary. "Can someone make a bouquet?"

Eric looked as though he were still trying to protest. "But - what happens if -"

"Honey," said Gail, laying a hand on his arm. "I think it's pretty clear this wedding'll happen whether we help it along or not. So we'll just keep things running smoothly."

"Yeah, think about it Eric," whispered Mary from his other side. "We could still get out of here by 2:15." She raised her eyebrows.

"Hopefully I won't have popped by then," smirked Mimi. "Yeah, I'll plan her a celebration all right."

"Gray?" asked Gail. They all turned to look at their mayor.

"Well, she seems to have her mind made up," he said slowly. "Probably be pretty pointless to argue with her. We may as well help her out. Hell, I'll even officiate!"

Gail chuckled. "I think you'll have to. I've known Reverend Young for forty years, and there's no way he'll be willing to perform a quickie wedding for two such...enthusiastic participants."

"Drunk, you mean," grumbled Eric.

Gail continued, "He only marries couples who come in for pre-marital counseling."

Gray grinned, leaning closer. Eric grimaced as he and Mary were squeezed between his mother and his boss. "I can have the papers ready in a few minutes," Gray boasted.

"Eric?" asked Stanley. Everyone looked to the deputy mayor, who was contemplating his knuckles. He looked up at them slowly, and reached one fist into the middle of the circle, holding it over the table. "New Year's?" he asked with a small smile.

Silently grinning at each other, the other occupants of the booth followed suit, laying their hands in the centre of the table, over his.

A few minutes later, the tavern was a flurry of preparations for the wedding. In amongst the customers who had come to spend New Year's together, the rather good spirited recruits of the wedding committee were setting up for the ceremony.

"That's a pretty narrow aisle, Bill," observed Gail as she stepped between the rows of seating Bill and Stanley had been setting up in one area of the bar. "You don't want her dress not to fit through, you know."

"But I'm doing my best," grumbled Bill, fighting with a folding chair. "This place wasn't really designed for a grand procession. Where am I supposed to fit all these chairs in?"

"It's okay," said Gail, trying to smile encouragingly. "I don't think many of the, er, guests will be sitting down. Just make sure there's an aisle."

"Where's she going to get a pouffy dress at this hour?" asked Stanley, forcefully dropping his last chair into place. He struggled to climb over the row of chairs a second later, as he'd trapped himself in between the chairs he'd set up and the metal railing that ran above the raised part of the floor.

"The girls are on it," said Gail confidently.

"Good luck to them," muttered Bill, dragging another chair over from a table, amidst protests from its occupants. "It's for a good cause, folks, and you'll get to see it all happen, in about fifty minutes."

"Forty-nine!" said Gail, walking brusquely across the floor. "That's looking good, dear," she called glancing upwards. Skylar Stevens was balancing on a stool in her bare feet, fixing a streamer to the ceiling. Dale Turner stood on the ground nearby, tossing another roll of crepe paper streamers up to her.

"Just wait'll it's done," said Dale.

The decorating job they were inflicting on the bar did look rather impressive, given the materials they had to work with. Purple and yellow streamers twisted and curled across the ceiling in one direction. Skylar had a hold of two colours right now, and was beginning the process of entwining them in the air.

"Looking good, Stevens," drawled Sean Henthorn, whistling as he came by with a stack of paper.

"You too, perv," she threw back with a teasing grin. "I know when a guy's trying to look up my dress," she informed him, not at all fooled by his exaggerated 'who me?' expression.

Sean stepped back, shrugging innocently. "And Turner, happy New Year. How'd you guys get involved in our little party?"

"We got recruited at the door," said Dale, looking slightly annoyed.

"Dale!" exclaimed Skylar frantically from her perch. He looked up. "Tape?" she asked, stretching to hold her streamers in place. He quickly tore a piece of tape off the roll he'd been wearing around his wrist.

Sean laughed. "Cute. You guys make a cute pair of decorators."

"As cute as you and Lisa Whalley?" asked Skylar from overhead. She wobbled slightly and Dale placed a hand on the small of her back to steady her. "I saw you in the corner, having a little party of your own when we first got here." She slipped off the stool, raising her eyebrows at Sean.

"Yeah," he said, laughing to himself, and handing the stack of paper to Gail, who eyed him disapprovingly.

"Didn't she just break up with Matt yesterday?" asked Skylar.

"He dumped her for Emma Blythe," said Sean, gesturing towards the jukebox.

"So where'd your date go?" asked Dale humorlessly.

"Nah, she's not my date, it was just a pity -"

"Sean Patrick!"

Sean had no time to duck as the stack of paper he had been carrying a few minutes earlier smacked him in the back of the head.

"What? She got what she wanted," protested Sean sheepishly as Gail frowned at him. He backed away from her glare, and stumbled over something on the floor.

"Watch my Jimmy Choos!" exclaimed Skylar, who had one hand on Dale's shoulder as she climbed onto another stool nearby, the streamers in her hands. Sean caught his balance, made a face, and continued to cross the floor.

"Alright, so we've got food," Mimi was saying on the other side of the bar, wrinkling her nose as she held a pen over the clipboard she was carrying.

"Yeah, food," smirked Emily, who was trailing behind her as they exited the kitchen.

"I think my last bag of jalapeño poppers and the only tub of mini cream puffs we've had around here since the bombs are pretty good for an impromptu post-midnight reception," muttered Mary, following close behind them.

"Well, you'll just have to serve plenty of your home brew first," said Emily cheerfully. "Then no one'll be able to taste anything."

Seeing Mary narrow her eyes, Mimi said loudly, "Drinks, check. What's next on the list..." She glanced down as Emily and Mary came to stand on either side of her. "The guys are doing the setup, Gail's doing flowers of some sort, clothes for the wedding party..."

"Are you even going to have a wedding party?" asked Mary. "A lot of people don't. At an intimate ceremony, you don't really need -"

"Oh, I'm going to have a wedding party," cut in Emily. "I want this to be the wedding of the season. So mine has to have a sophisticated, stylish wedding party that looks good in pictures."

"Sophisticated, stylish, good in pictures," repeated Mimi doubtfully.

"And younger, and hipper, and not looking like a whale," Emily continued.

Mimi paused, her pen in midair, and quickly looked away to grit her teeth. Mary plastered a cheery smile on her face while her friend took a moment to compose herself. "Maybe a neighbor then? Or a co-worker?" she asked in a bright voice.

Emily snorted. "Okay, why don't we see if the groom has any bright ideas," said Mary quickly. They looked sideways. Beck was seated at the bar, a few feet away from them, watching his bride-to-be with an adoring smile and sipping another drink.

"Yeah, that's likely," Mimi whispered.

Emily, however, was quickly at his side, running her hand along his arm. "Ed, honey, we're planning a wedding party."

"Sounds good," he said, grinning over at Mimi and Mary before looking back at her.

"I'm thinking we should go bold - have some people who'll complement us up there, and really shine for the photographer," said Emily.

Beck nodded. "How about Eric and Stanley?"

Mary and Mimi glanced at each other nervously, but Emily lost the grin on her face. "Honey, don't you want someone a little more...glamorous? We're going to have the wedding of the year!"

"But they're my friends," protested Beck.

"I'm your friend," said Emily. "And we don't need them. Not with a bar full of..." she glanced around.

"Quite the stylish selection you'll find here," laughed Mimi as she nodded over at the roomful of townspeople. "Cherokee, Wrangler, Sag Harbor, it's a regular fashion - is that Prada?"

She was peering at Skylar, who had now climbed onto a bench in a corner booth, attaching an elaborate bow she'd fashioned from streamers to a hanging lamp. Her black dress shimmered in the low lighting as she twisted sideways, to laugh at something Dale was saying from the ground.

"Oh, Skylar's here!" said Emily, her eyes suddenly lighting up. "And Dale! My old students!" Without warning, she dashed across the room. Mary and Mimi followed quickly behind, leaving Beck at the bar, still smiling to himself.

They passed Gail along the way, who was seated at the booth, papers spread in front of her, but watching Emily with curiosity.

Skylar had just climbed down from the bench, and had no warning. Emily engulfed her in a hug.

"Miss Sullivan," she choked as Emily let go. "Congratulations on your wedding. I've been helping with the decorations."

"Why, thank you," Emily grinned, with a very showy self-consciousness. "You're so talented. You were always so talented. I was so glad I had you in my class, and got to see you developing...all that talent. Those were good times, weren't they?"

"Uh..." said Skylar, who, to her own credit, didn't flinch as Emily grabbed onto her arms, in an apparent show of nostalgic affection.

"Remember that time you got a little bored in my class and we had a little disagreement?" asked Emily with a chuckle. "That time you were taking pictures with your phone and I had to confiscate it?"

"You mean the time you broke my phone?" asked Skylar.

"That's the time!" said Emily exuberantly. "And you were so upset you had to go cry in the bathroom. You've grown up so much since then. So much."

"Yeah," said Skylar coolly, attempting to step back. Dale stepped closer to her, fixing Emily with a stare.

"And Dale!" exclaimed Emily, letting go of Skylar to give Dale an affectionate punch in the shoulder. "You turned into a grown up too. No more taking naps in Miss Sullivan's class for you, huh?"

Dale merely gave her a quizzical look.

"I am so glad you're both here. That you can both come to my wedding," Emily gushed. "It means so much to me to have my former students here, cheering me on. Little minds I had a hand in shaping, young kids I helped guide on their path to becoming wonderful, contributing young adults. With nice clothes. Did you get that on your travels?" she asked, glancing at Dale's designer dress pants.

"They were my dad's," said Skylar quietly.

"Well, he had great taste!" said Emily, bestowing a generous grin on both young people.

"Yeah," said Dale awkwardly.

"And so do you!" she continued.

Sean Henthorn smirked as he walked by.

"And Sean's here too!" cried Emily, getting positively radiant. "All my old students are here. I'm so glad I can have you all here to support me on my special day. Do you know what I'd really love?"

She looked around at three blank faces. "I'd love it if you'd stand up there with me. With me and Ed. Would you like that? To be a part of my special day?"

All three of her former students stared back at her, their expressions a mixture of apprehension, shock, and revulsion. Exchanging a panicked look with Mimi, Mary quickly stepped forward.

"Emily, can you help me, I need to get your opinion on something," she said, reaching for Emily's arm. "A wedding consulting emergency," she added as Emily showed signs of protesting. She dragged Emily away, and Mimi stepped up quickly to talk to the would-be wedding party.

Watching as, on one side of the room, Mary frantically looked around, gesticulating to an impatient Emily, while on the other, Mimi spoke quickly and covertly to the group of teens, her hands on her belly the whole time, Robert Hawkins chuckled to himself. Bailey's on a busy night really was better entertainment than anything that used to be broadcast on network television. He quickly went back to scanning the bar, looking over at Allison and Scott, who were still hanging around the jukebox with the sloppily affectionate teenagers. Scott had his arm around Allie again, but was behaving himself so far. He looked around the bar again. Stanley and Bill had taken seats on either side of Gail, and were attempting to follow her instructions in folding something out of paper, frustrated looks on their faces. The major was at the bar, chatting excitedly about something with Dr. Dhuwalia. Darcy was walking towards him.

Darcy! Hawkins shook his head and looked up again as his wife made a beeline towards him. Sam was scampering behind her in his pajamas.

"Darcy, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Hi Dad!" exclaimed Sam, giving an odd little jump beside him.

"Hi, son," he said with a smile, which vanished as he turned back to Darcy.

"What am I doing here? Robert, what are you doing here? You said you'd be back and we'd have our own little celebration. Samuel's been waiting for you to come home all night."

"I'm going to stay up this year, Dad!" grinned Sam.

"And I've been waiting," she said more quietly, leaning towards him, a frown on her face.

"I'm sorry, Dee, I got detained," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "You're not doing Allison any favors by spying on her, it only shows her you don't trust her."

"Not Allie. There's a bit of a situation that's come up."

"What kind of situation?" she asked, a familiar look of fear surfacing on her features. "Should we be worried, Robert?"

Hawkins couldn't help but chuckle. For a moment, she looked annoyed, but as she caught on that she didn't need to be on high alert, she smiled grudgingly. "So what is it, Rob?"

"You're not going to believe this," he said, leaning closer to her as Sam jumped around on the spot to the latest song coming from the jukebox.

"So everyone understand why we need to keep this going?" Mimi was asking the circle of teens who had gathered around her.

Sean nodded fervently, and the others nodded less enthusiastically.

"We're going to help out a good cause!" said Sean.

"Get Miss Sullivan interested in something besides throwing darts at people," nodded Skylar.

"Make a better future for your baby," grinned Emma.

"Help the town that raised us and depends on us get through a delicate situation," Dale said dully.

"Keep this party from getting any more lame," said Allison. Scott snickered.

"It's for the good of the town, for the good of our future, and Ms. Bailey-Green'll give you free drinks for a month," summarized Mimi.

"So everyone better pitch in," said Sean, puffing out his chest and eyeing his peers authoritatively.

"Do we get free drinks tonight?" asked Matt, snaking his hand around Emma's waist. Emma giggled.

"It's a wedding reception. Stick around and there'll be drinks for people who helped," said Mimi.

"There's what for what now?" asked Eric, striding over with Gray close behind him.

"Desperate times," said Mimi through gritted teeth, still smiling at the group of teenagers.

"Where's Mary?" asked Eric.

Mimi shrugged, looking around. "How did it go with -"

"We've got the license. And I checked out the annulment procedures of Fillmore county," he said conspiratorially. Mimi frowned at him. "Just in case," he protested.

"I'm going to show Gail the paperwork," said Gray, taking the folder from Eric and strolling away before he could protest.

"So, what's this little party gathered around for?" asked Eric awkwardly, finding himself in the midst of the seven teenagers.

"Meet the wedding party," said Mimi, motioning at Skylar, Dale, and Sean. Eric stifled a laugh.

"And where are the stars of the wedding?" he asked.

"Well, the groom is apparently touring the kitchen," said Mimi, making a face. "And the bride is..."

The bride's voice rang loudly over their voices at that moment. "Pulling me out of an important conversation to talk about parental loss and how it comes up on special occasions is not an emergency!" Emily was saying, as she pulled a thoroughly disgruntled looking Mary back into their midst with her. "You're dragging me down, Green. Do you not want my wedding to go well? Do you not care at all about my happiness?"

"Emily," cut in Mimi, flashing her friend a sympathetic look before turning back to the bride-to-be. "Say hello to your wedding party."

Sean, Skylar, and Dale smiled bravely back at her as Matt, Emma, Scott and Allison quickly retreated a step back. Emily's face broke out in a grin. "Very nice," she said. "You guys will be great. Thank you so much."

She stepped forward to hug them, but Skylar held up a hand. "Prada," she said, pointing to her dress. Emily merely beamed. Then she stopped abruptly, frowning. "Two groomsmen and only one bridesmaid?"

Mimi and Eric were silent, and the teens glanced around nervously.

"Green. How many bridesmaids at her wedding?" asked Emily, turning back to look at Mary.

"Me and Mimi," said Mary slowly, giving Emily a strange look. "But you already knew -"

"I need another," declared Emily, looking quickly from Emma, who was shifting her weight from foot to foot, absently twirling a piece of hair in her fingers, to Allison, who met her gaze steadily. Emily grinned.

Allison caught the pointed, pleading looks the other three adults were giving her and sighed.

"So, what are we eating?" Beck was asking as he looked around the tavern's kitchen.

"Jalapeño poppers," said Bill, unenthusiastically following behind the major.

Beck, however, broke into a bigger grin. "My favorite!"

"Figures," Stanley whispered. "That's just heartburn city waiting to happen."

"And this is dessert?" asked Beck, holding up the tub of cream puffs defrosting on the counter.

"Yeah, I guess," said Stanley out loud, leaning to whisper to Bill. "Whose idea was it to bring him for a kitchen tour anyway? There's nothing else to show him."

"Well, Gail said he might get bored and wander off if we didn't distract him somehow. And this way he's not messing up the decorations or scaring off the guests," muttered Bill.

"True enough," replied Stanley. "But I don't know if pots and pans will distract him very long."

"These remind me of Emily," said Beck, holding up the cream puffs.

"I'm not sure what to do with that," said Stanley.

"They're something she would like," said Beck thoughtfully. "She's a classy lady."

"That she is," said Bill with an ironic smile.

"I think the food is perfect," declared Beck. He motioned to the tray on top of the oven, over which the frozen jalapeño poppers were spread out. "Jalapeño poppers for me, cream puffs for her. They go together, just like we do."

He was smiling to himself, and made no sign of hearing Stanley murmur, "I'll say."

"So, I can check off wedding party," Mimi said in an efficient tone, holding up her clipboard as the circle of people looked on. "Next item: clothes."

Emily pursed her lips. "I want everything to be perfect. Even on short notice. It's going to be the wedding of the season after all." She surveyed her wedding party. "They look great," she said, motioning to Dale and Skylar. "They need something," she continued, pointing out Sean's wrinkled punk rock t-shirt and Allison's jeans.

"Are you going with the Mardi Gras theme?" asked Skylar.

"What?" asked Emily.

"Well, the streamers..." said Skylar, trailing off as Mary caught her eye and made a cutting motion in the air.

"It's New Year's. Not Mardi Gras. And it's going to be the wedding of this winter," simpered Emily. She looked suddenly annoyed at the many pairs of eyes watching her. "Green!" she said, making a motion with her hands. Eric and Mary reluctantly stepped forward. "Bouquet tossing Green," she amended. "And wedding planner," she nodded at Mimi. "Consulting conference over here."

Eric watched as his wife and Mimi followed Emily to a spot a few feet away, where it seemed Emily began to ask a series of questions, which they were answering with determination.

"Well, you guys have fun with that!" Matt finally broke the silence. "We'll see you at the reception!"

"You're not sticking around?" asked Allison in dismay.

"We're going to dance!" said Emma, pulling Matt's arm around her shoulder.

Allison shook her head at her friends' retreat, grateful at least that Scott offered her a sympathetic smile and put his arm around her.

"Beep! Incoming!" shouted a little voice, and Allison did a double take as a short figure nearly slammed into them.

"What are you doing here, Sam?" she asked.

"Hi Allison! Hi Scott!" beamed Sam. Allison barely had time to wonder what her brother could possibly be doing, in a bar, at 11:17 pm, in his Spiderman pajamas'.

"Hey, kids," said Darcy, flashing Allison an apologetic smile as Hawkins came to stand beside them too. Scott slowly loosened his grip on Allison's shoulder. "Having a good night?" Darcy asked.

"Not really. I've been drafted," said Allison.

Hawkins chuckled. "I hear our letter went over well."

"Not funny, Dad. I'm a bridesmaid," said Allison.

Darcy and Hawkins exchanged a look, and tried to keep from smiling. "That's very generous of you, baby," said Hawkins.

Allison did not look pleased with her generous efforts. "This is so not how I wanted this night to go."

Darcy looked sympathetic. "Well, you know Allie, maybe this once, you can come home after curfew. An hour later sound good?"

Allison looked pained. "Doesn't this earn me two extra hours? I'm wasting over two hours on this stupid wedding."

"Can I stay out two extra hours?" asked Sam.

"Why is Sam here? And why are you all here? It's New Year's Eve, not family day!" said Allison.

"Honey, we're just trying to celebrate New Year's too," said Darcy.

Allison gave a sarcastic smile that didn't reach her eyes, as Sean said "You've come to the right party then!"

Allison glanced over and remembered Sean, Dale, and Skylar standing beside them. She looked back at her family, gathered around her, with a pained expression.

"We'll just, uh, be over there," said Darcy, grinning at Allison and grabbing her husband by the arm. Hawkins looked as though he might protest, but Sam had caught sight of Gail at the booth, which was now strewn with an ever growing pile of paper flowers. "Crafts! Cool!" he exclaimed, bounding away.

Allison closed her eyes as her family made their exit, slowly turning back to her peers. Eric attempted to break the awkward silence that ensued. "So...anyone have an interesting New Year's resolution?"

The young people were silent for a moment.

"I'm going to work out more. Get really ripped," said Sean, flexing his bicep and making a face.

Eric nodded. "Great," he managed.

"So the theme was red and green?" Emily was asking her consultants.

"Green and burgundy," corrected Mimi.

"The theme was Christmas, I guess," said Mary.

"And you wore green, I suppose," snorted Emily.

"I already had the dress," said Mary through gritted teeth. "And Mimi wore burgundy."

"Did you already have that dress or did you have to make it out of a tablecloth?" giggled Emily.

Mary nervously watched as Mimi's hand gripped the pen so tightly her knuckles were turning white. "Well, Emily, are you going to make a decision already?"

Emily was looking around, considering. "And the flowers were red?"

"They were roses," said Mary.

"And mine are white," mused Emily.

"Yes. Very classy," said Mimi, glancing warily at the table where Gail, Gray, and the Hawkinses were folding paper.

"Okay. Here's what I want," announced Emily. Her consultant and wedding planner wearily raised their eyebrows.

"And then, when I get really angry, I can just flex them all at once, like this, and then my t-shirt'll rip off, and it'll be just like the Incredible Hulk -" Sean was demonstrating, for Eric and the other members of the wedding party, when the bride and her reluctant advisors returned.

"That would be a sight, Sean," giggled Mimi. Sean dropped his arms immediately, his face turning slightly pink.

Emily took no notice, standing in the centre of the circle and grabbing the clipboard from Mimi. "My wedding is going to be classy, New Year's. That's the theme. So I'm going to wear white, and my bridesmaids are going to be in black and silver."

Allison looked as though she were going to say something.

"I've got a silver dress at home, in my closet," Emily continued. "It'll look great on you."

"And where are you getting a wedding dress at 11:28, New Year's Eve?" asked Dale. The three other adults gave him warning looks, but Emily continued in a businesslike tone.

"I have a wedding dress. In my closet. It's perfect, and it still fits me perfectly." She glanced down at the clipboard. "So, my wedding planner says that's the next thing on the list. Someone needs to go to my house in the Pines and pick up the dresses. And shoes. And some jewelry. And maybe purses."

Sean opened his mouth. "Someone," said Emily. "Anyone?"

"I -" began Sean.

"Someone who knows about purses," said Mary significantly. Skylar was purposefully studying the bracelets on her wrist.

"It would be good to combine a trip," cut in Mimi. "Whoever goes needs to pick up Emily's aunt, and Emily wants someone to get Lindsay Davis too -"

"Yes! I need the press here to witness the event," cut in Emily. "And you can get that Zack too! He's good with a camera. He can be the photographer."

"Photographer," said Mimi, grabbing the clipboard back from Emily and checking it off.

"Hey, I can swing by there. Zack's my friend. I'll fill him in," piped up Scott. He looked quickly at Allison, who nodded.

"But the bridesmaids need to be getting ready with me," protested Emily.

Allison glanced quickly towards the dance floor, where her parents were both swinging around, laughing and waving when they saw her looking their way. "Yeah, we'll go," she said, grabbing Scott's hand.

"But what if you don't get back in time?" asked Emily.

"I'll change in the car," Allison called over her shoulder as the couple retreated as quickly as they could.

A slightly disgruntled looking Emily absently yanked the clipboard out of Mimi's hands again. "Bridesmaids. Now something for him to wear," she said, motioning over at Sean. "Eric?"

All eyes turned to look at Eric. Mary shared a sympathetic grimace with him. "I guess I can go upstairs and get a suit for him," he said reluctantly.

Emily nodded approvingly. "And it'll give you a chance to change out of the clown suit you're wearing," she said eyeing him up and down. "And while you're at it, bring something for her too." She gave Mary an apparently affectionate smack on the shoulder.

Carefully arranging his face, Eric asked, "Why do we need to change?"

"Well, Eric, it's a wedding, not a hoedown. Here, take Sean with you, and hurry back. The groomsmen need to help the groom get ready." She gave Sean a gentle push towards Eric, and Eric, with one look of utter annoyance, turned and began walking, muttering, "Come on, Sean."

"Next - the groom's clothes," said Emily, thrusting the clipboard at Mimi once again and sauntering away, snapping her fingers over her shoulder to signal that they should follow her.

Mary and Mimi watched her walking away for a moment in silence.

"Mimi," said Mary quietly. "If at some point tonight, I say something about going to get the darts myself..."

"I don't know if I can promise to stop you," cut in Mimi. At her friend's plaintive look, she added, "Okay, here." She held Mary's hand to her belly; the baby was kicking again. "Please, Auntie Mary. Be a good role model. Keep your cool and get the crazy lady to go through with her wedding."

Mary rolled her eyes, but managed to laugh.

"Do you guys care about my wedding at all, or are you going to stand there gushing over that baby all night?" came a voice.

"You'd better not tell me where you hid the darts," Mimi said through gritted teeth, as they followed the direction of the voice.

"I just don't see what the big deal is, she's been pregnant for months now. Hello, tons of other things have happened since," Emily was saying as they came up to the bar, where Beck was seated, Bill was standing nearby, and a thoroughly incensed Stanley looked as though he was wondering where the darts could be hidden.

"But my darling, it's a miracle," Beck was saying, turning to grin at Mimi, who stayed behind Mary and held up her clipboard.

"The real miracle will be pulling off this wedding, with the help we're getting," said Emily. "Now, we've figured out what I'm going to wear. Do you know what you want to wear?"

Beck looked down. It was clear he was contemplating going as is. "Remember, we're having the wedding of the season," she said gently. "Classy and sophisticated."

"I have my dress uniform," he said. "It's back at my barracks."

"Perfect," she smiled. "Now, who wants to go get it?" she asked, switching to her business tone.

"Stanley and Bill are helping me get ready," said the groom.

"Timmy," said Mary, spotting the young soldier dancing by with one of the refugees. He stopped, mid bunny hop, and stood at the ready. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Would you mind going down to the barracks and getting the Major's dress uniform?" she asked.

"Can do," he said, giving her a salute. "And congratulations on your wedding, Major!"

"Thank you," said Beck, his voice beginning to betray the emotions they'd all been privy to earlier in the night. "It means so much, to have all the people I care about -"

"Thanks, Timmy, that'll be great," said Mimi, clearing her throat. As Timmy retreated, she turned authoritatively to the rest of the group. "Everyone else have a job to do now?"

Stanley stared back at her, giving a small shrug and glancing at the major. "We're helping him...get ready."

"Okay, good. You guys go get ready then," said Mimi.

They looked back at her, blinking.

"The bathroom's over there," she pointed out unnecessarily.

"But what are we supposed to -" Bill began.

"Just start getting ready and we'll send you the clothes and the groomsmen when they get here," she said in an irritated tone.

"Yes, ma'am," said Bill, in such a good imitation of Timmy that he and Stanley chuckled. They hurried their steps, pulling Beck along with them, as Mimi sent them a look.

"And make sure the groom can't come out to see the bride before it starts," called Emily after them. She turned back to her consultants. "Alright, what else needs doing?"

"Music," said Mimi. "And we should check on the decorations and flowers."

"You do that. Green can help me pick some music out of her jukebox," said Emily. "See if there's anything decent for a wedding and not by the Spin Doctors." She turned and began walking in the direction of the jukebox. Mary took a breath before following her.

"Role model," Mimi mouthed, pointing down at her belly before turning to make her way over to the booth. It was now impossible to see the table, it was so covered in paper flowers. Sam was excitedly folding more at a rapid rate, and Gail had recruited Skylar and Dale to begin arranging them in bouquets. Gray was supervising them as they planned how they would add them to the staging area.

"Looks like you've all been busy," said Mimi, holding up a bouquet of paper lilies in amazement. "Mrs. Green, where did you learn to do this?"

"I was in Girl Scouts once," said Gail, waving a hand nonchalantly. "How are things going?"

"Almost ready for the wedding party to get ready," she said, twirling a blossom between her fingers.

Gail nodded approvingly. "Why don't you have a seat? You've been on your feet all night."

Mimi sat, letting out a deep sigh. Gail smiled. "You'd better watch it. You don't want to give that baby any ideas about making an early appearance."

"Believe me, I'm not hoping for that," said Mimi, leaning back. "Last thing I want to do is to be telling a story that starts with 'The night you were born, your mother and father were playing matchmakers of the insane.' Though, can you imagine the story they'll have to tell, if this keeps going? 'You were the by-product of a drunken New Year's Eve shotgun wedding.' Let's hope he's too drunk to get it up."

"Mimi Helena!" exclaimed Gail as Sam asked, "Get what up?"

Glancing back and forth between them, Mimi stammered, "How do you know my middle name?"

Gail chuckled as Sam repeated his question and Mimi's eyes widened. "How about you go check on Dale and Skylar, honey? And let them know they're going to be needed over in the bathrooms soon?" asked Gail.

"Okay!" said Sam, sliding out of the booth and running over to the rows of chairs, where Skylar, Dale, and Gray were hanging copious amounts of paper flowers.

"You'll get used to it," said Gail, patting Mimi's arm. "I remember when Eric figured out what his initials spell. Did he ever tell you about his middle name?"

Mimi raised her eyebrows and leaned in.

When Eric came downstairs a few minutes later, an uncomfortable looking Sean following behind him, tugging at the dress shirt he had been cajoled into wearing, he couldn't see any of his fellow conspirators. He went over to the jukebox instead, where Emma Blythe and Matt Jenkins had once again taken control. Sam Hawkins, curiously dressed in pajamas, was hopping up and down excitedly, shouting over and over, "I Love Rock and Roll! I Love Rock and Roll!"

"But Sam, it's my turn and I want Ground Control to Major Tom," Emma was saying.

Eric cleared his throat. "Have you kids seen my, er, party?"

"They're in the bathrooms," said Matt, motioning. Emma looked annoyed and turned back to the jukebox.

"I'm supposed to tell you to take the groomsman to the little groom's room!" exclaimed Sam suddenly, grinning up at Eric before sidling up to Emma, grabbing her arm and pleading "Rock and Roll!"

Eric raised his eyebrows and gave an odd sort of nod. Without another word, he headed for the bathroom, and Sean, after shrugging his shoulders, followed.

They found Stanley and Bill standing outside the bathroom. Bill had crouched down, leaning against the wall on one side of the door, and Stanley leaned against the other, his arms crossed.

"The missing groomsman," said Bill with an approving nod. "And Beck was getting worried."

"Apparently he wants this night to go 'just right'," said Stanley. "Like jalapeño poppers and cream puffs."

"Ew." Sean made a face.

Bill gave him a withering look. Stanley pounded on the door with his fist. "Your other groomsman is here!" he shouted through the door.

Beck opened the door at that moment, and stood before them, in his dress uniform, which was straining a little bit around his mid section. He looked around in silence, with an expression that reminded Stanley of a clumsy kid waiting to be picked for a kickball team.

"You look...very distinguished," said Eric quickly. Stanley nodded.

Sean looked as though he was going to laugh, but he merely smirked as he said, "Your tie's crooked."

They all heard an exasperated sigh coming from behind Beck. "You do it, then!" Dale's voice rang out of the small bathroom. Beck stepped back, and Dale squeezed out of the bathroom, looking up at Sean with narrowed eyes as he passed him. Sean reached for the major's neck. "Give me that," he grumbled.

Eric, Stanley, and Bill stood awkwardly, their arms crossed, facing the odd trio, as Sean proceeded to fix Beck's tie and Dale leaned against the wall nearby. "So what do we have to do now?" asked Dale, putting his hands in the pockets of Skylar's father's designer pants.

"Well, boys, I learned a little something a long time ago," said Beck sagely, as Sean concentrated intensely on the bow tie and Dale stared at the floor. "When it comes to the big day, your job is just to show up."

Sean nodded at this piece of wisdom, and Dale seemed to be considering it. "I'm telling you," Beck continued. "You let her do what she wants. Do your part, smile and shut up. That's what they really want. It works beyond the wedding too. In life, I mean." He smiled over at his friends. "Eric and Stanley know what I mean."

Eric and Stanley, for their part, gave non-committal shrugs. Bill, however, nodded.

Mimi's face bore a distinct look of discomfort. "Can you get them to hurry up in there?" she whispered.

Mary rapped on the door of the women's washroom. "How's it going in there?"

"We're going as fast as we can!" came Skylar's irritated voice.

"I can't be rushed on my wedding day!" Emily added through the door.

"Oooh, but it's a public washroom," groaned Mimi. "For the public."

"Take it up with Green!" was the answer.

"You just had to set the bridal party prep up in this washroom," Mimi glowered. "Couldn't have Emily upstairs, no."

"You can use my place," offered Mary.

"Forget it, I'll wait," said Mimi, knocking on the door herself. "Come on in there! Let's see the bride already!"

"Do not rush -" Emily began, but the door swung open. Skylar stepped hurriedly out, turning back to survey her work.

"You look very nice, Emily," said Mary kindly.

It wasn't a lie. Skylar had dutifully dipped into her own purse and come up with enough products to make Emily look wedding appropriate, at least, for Jericho's post-bombs standards. Her hair, even, was tastefully arranged on top of her head, with some curls cascading down.

"Really?" asked Emily, her expression becoming gentle for perhaps the second time that evening.

"Really. Beautiful," said Mimi, pushing past her into the bathroom and practically nudging her out, shutting the door quickly.

"You do look beautiful," Mary said, as Emily stood in the hallway. "Ready to get married."

Without warning, Emily's carefully made up face began to crumple. "I'm not ready!" she cried out in a pitiful tone. Skylar frantically grabbed a tissue from her purse and dabbed at the bride's face before she could smear her makeup too badly.

Mary was taken aback. "What do you mean, you're not ready?" she asked.

"My dress isn't here yet!" sobbed Emily.

"It's on its way," said Mary.

"And I haven't got something - old, and new," she continued. "Or borrowed, or - you know." She sniffled noisily. As tempted as she was to do otherwise, Mary awkwardly patted her arm.

"You've got that ring, right?" Mary asked. "It's borrowed." When Emily had blackmailed Emma Blythe into giving up her mood ring for the ceremony, on pain of going to get Lisa Whalley, Mary had made a mental note to make sure it made its way back to its owner by the end of the night.

"And it's old," supplied Skylar. Mary nodded. Emily continued to sniffle.

"And, your eye shadow is blue," added Mary helplessly.

"What's the matter over here?" Gail appeared brusquely at their side, her arms full of paper bouquets.

"I'm not ready!" wailed Emily.

Gail was momentarily speechless, as a look of doubt passed over her. Mary quickly grabbed a handful of the paper flowers. "Look! These are new!"

Skylar looked questioningly at the paper blossoms and Gail studied her daughter-in-law, quickly analyzing the situation as Mary continued to talk. "Gail has been folding these right here, all night. They're newer than the roses at last week's wedding!"

Emily was suddenly quiet. "Yes," said Gail quickly, taking a flower from the bouquet. She carefully stuck it in Emily's hair. Mary marveled at her mother-in-law's ingenuity. The origami flower actually did look beautiful, and seemed to complete the bride's ensemble.

"There. Now you're all set," said Gail gently.

"But...the dress..." said Emily quietly, as Mary dabbed at her face with the tissue on one side and Skylar touched up her blush on the other.

"Well, dear, it's -"

"Coming through!" came a loud voice. They saw the dress before they saw Allison, lifting it above her head and frantically making her way through the crowd, towards the washroom.

"Oh, what is it now?" asked Mimi, opening the door. She was swarmed on either side as the bridal party quickly retreated into the bathroom, Gail and Mary hurrying everyone along and shutting the door behind them.

"Jeez, it's like a clown car," murmured Mimi, her hands protectively covering her belly.

"What's the matter?"

"What's the 911?"

"Who needs my help?"

Eric, Stanley, and Bill had appeared, breathless.

"Oh, nothing. Where's Beck?" asked Mimi, her eyes widening.

"He's all set. Teaching Sean and Dale the facts of life," grinned Bill. "How about the bride?"

"She's almost ready!" said Mimi, gesturing at them to get back to their places. "Five minutes."

"So do I tell Gray it's a go?" asked Eric. "We've got all the guests into place."

"Five minutes!" repeated Mimi.

The men scurried away, Stanley giving her one swaggering grin before following his friends.

Mimi stood listening for a few seconds. After what sounded like a minor scuffle, the door finally flung open. Allison and Skylar wedged themselves out first, followed by Emily, whose hair and makeup had survived the donning of the dress intact. Gail and Mary followed quickly behind, straightening the skirt and pushing the paper flower back into place.

"Everyone ready?" asked Mimi, gesturing towards the main room of the tavern. From their sheltered alcove, they could see a crowd gathered.

Allison and Skylar stepped forward, and Skylar found herself looking at the silver dress Allison was wearing for the first time. "Don't say anything," said Allison through clenched teeth as Gail handed them each a bouquet.

"Wasn't going to," said Skylar, wisely stifling the laugh she'd felt coming on when she'd first noticed the ruffle around the bottom and the big bow adorning Allison's back.

"Thanks, Green. You know, I don't know what's wrong with me tonight," Emily was saying, taking the tissue Mary was offering her. "Maybe you're right. Maybe those parents we lose do come up on special days, even when we think we've forgotten -"

"Ten minutes 'til midnight!" interrupted Mimi. "Ten minutes."

Emily stopped, standing behind her bridesmaids in silence. They had reached the edge of the crowd. The seats Stanley and Bill had arranged were all full, though the majority of the crowd were standing, at the bar or in the middle of the dance floor. At the end of the narrow aisle, Gray Anderson stood, a look of solemnity on his face. The groom and his men stood off to the right, Dale and Sean both looking very serious, and even the ring bearer, curiously clad in pajamas, was silent.

At a nod from Eric, Matt Jenkins pushed a button on the juke box.

A song began to play. "Going to the chapel and we're going to get married..."

Skylar began to walk first, Allison following soon after.

Emily clutched her bouquet, taking a deep breath as she stepped forward and then stopped.

"Nine minutes. You'll turn into a pumpkin!" whispered Mimi, giving her a gentle nudge forward.

The people seated in rows had gotten to their feet, and everyone around the room was looking back at the bride. Emily felt her cheeks growing warm, and as she took another step forward, and another step, she began to smile.

She felt the music as if it were in her soul. "Today's the day we'll say I do and we'll never be lonely anymore."

Skylar turned at the front of the makeshift aisle, then Allison. All around her were smiling faces.

He turned then, looking over at her, his face breaking out in a grin. He looked distinguished in his smart blue jacket, the strong way he stood, but she noticed only the way his eyes stared back into hers.

He reached for her hand as she reached the end of the aisle. Elbow to elbow, they stepped forward together, facing the man who would join them together.

Gray bestowed a smile on them as he cleared his throat, readying himself to speak the words he'd been practicing behind the pool table for the last twenty minutes. He folded his hands and looked to the crowd of bar patrons gathered around. He cleared his throat again.

"Dearly beloved," he began.

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

To continue in Auld Lang Syne: A Pledge.



"Take a Chance on Me" was written and recorded in 1977 by Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus, and was sung by Agnetha Fältskog and Anni-Frid Lyngstad, all of the Swedish pop group ABBA.

"Try a Little Tenderness" is a love song written by "Irving King" (James Campbell and Reginald Connelly) and Harry M. Woods, and recorded initially on December 8, 1932 by the Ray Noble Orchestra (with vocals by Val Rosing) followed by both Ruth Etting and Bing Crosby in 1933.  A popular version in an entirely new form was recorded by soul artist Otis Redding in 1966.  Gray picked the Otis Redding version. :-)

"My Heart Will Go On" is the theme song of the 1997 blockbuster film Titanic. With music by James Horner and lyrics by Will Jennings, it was recorded by Céline Dion.

"Hungry Eyes" is a song performed by Eric Carmen, and was featured in the film Dirty Dancing.
It was written by John DeNicola and Franke Previte. 

Johnny (portrayed by Patrick Swayze) and Baby (portrayed by Jennifer Grey) are the main characters in the film Dirty Dancing.  The film was written by Eleanor Bergstein and directed by Emile Ardolino.  It was released in 1987.

"Love Is a Battlefield" is a song written by Holly Knight and Mike Chapman, after Pat Benatar asked Chapman to write her a hit song. It was released as a single from Benatar's album Live from Earth, which was popular in 1983 and 1984.

"Fernando" is Swedish pop group ABBA's first non-album single, released in the spring of 1976. Lead vocals sung by Anni-Frid Lyngstad.

"I Will Always Love You" is a song released by American country singer-songwriter Dolly Parton (1974) and by American singer Whitney Houston (1992). Houston's version of the song became one of the best-selling singles of all time, and the best selling single ever by a female artist.  Bill thinks all women love Whitney Houston's version.

Oklahoma! is the first musical written by composer Richard Rodgers and librettist Oscar Hammerstein II. The musical is based on Lynn Riggs' 1931 play, Green Grow the Lilacs. "The Surrey With the Fringe on Top" is a show tune from the 1943 Rodgers and Hammerstein musical Oklahoma!.

The Music Man is a musical with book, music, and lyrics by Meredith Willson. The show is based on a story by Willson and Franklin Lacey (Debuted 1957).  "Seventy Six Trombones" is the signature song from the 1957 musical play The Music Man, written by Meredith Willson.

West Side Story is a musical with a book by Arthur Laurents, music by Leonard Bernstein, and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim. The musical is based on William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet (Broadway Debut 1957).

"In Your Eyes" is a song by musician Peter Gabriel from his 1986 album So. In 1989, the song appeared in the Cameron Crowe film, Say Anything, in a scene where broken-hearted Lloyd Dobler (John Cusack) serenades his former girlfriend (Ione Skye) outside her bedroom window by holding up a boombox above his head and playing the song for her. 

"Tubthumping" is a song by the English band Chumbawamba and was released in 1997. The song is often misnamed as "I Get Knocked Down".

"Nothing Compares 2 U" is a song written in mid-1981 by Prince for The Family. Irish singer Sinéad O'Connor re-recorded the track in 1990 and included it on her second album I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got, bringing the song to worldwide prominence. As we are sure you guessed, Chloe Walcott was interested in Sinéad's version.

"Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" is a show tune written by American composer Jerome Kern and lyricist Otto Harbach for their 1933 operetta Roberta. Subsequently, a number of artists have performed the song.  Possibly the most famous version was recorded in 1958 by the doo wop group The Platters.

"Somebody to Love" is a song written by Freddie Mercury and performed by English rock band Queen featured on their 1976 album A Day at the Races.

"Sexual Healing" is a 1982 song recorded by American soul singer Marvin Gaye.

"Stop! In the Name of Love" is a 1965 number-one single recorded by The Supremes for the Motown label.

"Baby Love" is a 1964 number-one hit recorded by The Supremes for the Motown label.

"I Hear a Symphony" is a 1965 hit song recorded by The Supremes for the Motown label.

"You Can't Hurry Love" is a number-one single recorded by The Supremes for the Motown label, released during the summer of 1966.

 "I Got You Babe" is a 1965 number-one hit single by American rock music duo Sonny & Cher.

"In the Midnight Hour" is a song originally performed by Wilson Pickett in 1965 and released on the 1966 album The Exciting Wilson Pickett. It was composed by Pickett and Steve Cropper.

"A Whiter Shade of Pale" is a song by the British band Procol Harum.

"I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" is a song written and performed by Scottish pop band The Proclaimers. It was released on their 1988 Sunshine on Leith album

"Your Song" is a ballad composed and performed by musician Elton John. The song's lyrics were written by Bernie Taupin. It appeared on John's self-titled second album in 1970.

"December, 1963 (Oh, What a Night)" is a hit single by The Four Seasons, written by original Four Seasons keyboard player Bob Gaudio and his future wife Judy Parker, produced by Gaudio, and included on the group's 1975 album Who Loves You.

Simon and Garfunkel released the song "For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her" in 1972. It can be found on the album Simon and Garfunkel's Greatest Hits.

The Graduate is a 1967 American comedy-drama film directed by Mike Nichols, based on the novel of the same name by Charles Webb, who wrote the piece shortly after graduating from Williams College. The screenplay is by Calder Willingham and Buck Henry.  The film boosted the profile of folk-rock duo Simon & Garfunkel, whose soundtrack album (The Graduate Original Soundtrack), on the strength of the hit single "Mrs. Robinson", rose to the top of the charts in 1968.

"Space Oddity" is a song written and performed by David Bowie and released as a single in 1969. It is about the launch of Major Tom, a fictional astronaut who becomes depressed during an outer-space mission.

"I Love Rock 'n Roll" is a rock and roll song, written in 1975 by Alan Merrill and Jake Hooker of The Arrows, who recorded the first released version. The song was later covered by Joan Jett and Britney Spears.  Sam has an affinity for Joan Jett.

"Chapel of Love" is a song written by Jeff Barry, Ellie Greenwich and Phil Spector, and made famous by The Dixie Cups in 1964.