The ballroom of the Lancaster buzzed with the sounds of celebration. Soft Jazz (piped in, not live; that was being saved for the wedding reception) served as the backdrop for bottles of expensive champagne being opened; stemware and crystal tumblers clinking in toasts; raucous laughter; and, of course, conversation...

"I sure hope they have better food at the wedding," Morris O'Brian sneered, his British accent serving to almost exaggerate his condescension. Nevertheless, he retrieved several of the hors d'oeuvres from the tray of a passing server. "I mean, really, prunes. . . as an appetizer?" He held the pork enveloped dried fruit aloft, examining it with disdain before unceremoniously depositing it into his mouth.

"They're called devils on horseback," his estranged wife Chloe sighed.

"Plus, they're wrapped in bacon," Michelle Dessler-Almeida chimed in. "And as every carnivore worth his or her salt knows, bacon makes everything better!"

"So says the woman eating for an army," Morris cracked, sailing an amused gaze at Michelle's distended belly.

"Well, I guess it's safe to say you folks are enjoying yourselves?" Jack observed wryly as he stopped by the group's table. "Glad you all could make it." He cast a sympathetic glance at Chloe who looked as if she was about to undergo a root canal sans anesthesia. "Don't worry, Chloe. This shouldn't go on much longer. We'll have you out of here in time to catch Mythbusters, okay?"

"Thanks, but I'm DVRing it." Chloe sheepishly smiled at her longtime colleague and friend. "If I seem antsy it's because you know how I am with crowds, Jack. I don't like them." A shrug of her shoulders was preceded by a gaze that was somewhere in the vicinity of glazed and bored as her face contorted into that awkward mask of bemused indifference that was her trademark. "Besides, I really wanted to be here for you. Oh, and Audrey, too," she hastened to add. "It's actually been a really nice party so far." A slight pause. "Well, except for the food." Crooking her finger, she motioned for Jack to come closer. "Um, you might want to tell Audrey for the wedding reception, she may want to consider including. . .vegetarian options? Not all of us in attendance enjoy consuming charred flesh, you know."

"Yeah, I'll do that, Chloe," Jack chuckled. "I didn't have any hand in planning this—the whole thing was Audrey's show—but I'll make sure to pass your suggestion on to her." Across the way he saw the woman in question motioning for him. "If you folks will excuse me, my presence is being requested by the lady of the hour." He'd taken no more than a few steps when he turned back to address his colleagues. "Just in case I don't get back this way before the party ends, thanks for coming, guys."

On the heels of Jack's departure, Tony arrived bearing two large plates of assorted fresh fruit; cantaloupe, honeydew, strawberries, and pineapple to name a few. As he sat the plates down before his wife, Michelle, Tony leveled a steely gaze at Morris who was seated next to her. "Unless you're going for the strawberries, then don't even think about poaching, Morris," Tony warned.

"I'm allergic to strawberries, Almeida," he replied dryly. "Remember? Throat closes up; I go into a little thing called anaphylactic shock?"

"Damn, I forgot." Tony proceeded to grin broadly. "In that case, have 'em all!" He and Michelle high-fived each other as Morris merely rolled his eyes then cast a longing gaze towards the near-overflowing plates. "Michelle has been craving honeydew and cantaloupe all week," Tony said, as he took a sip of his drink, "and she will rip you limb from limb if you snag even the smallest piece of fruit from either of those plates!"

"You mean they're both for her?" Morris turned his gobsmacked gaze on Michelle. "God save the queen, woman! What are you carrying, a Land Rover?!"

"Explain to me again how it is you ever managed to get a woman to have sex with you, Morris—without having to pay for it?" Michelle shot back. "No disrespect, Chloe," she added, in between bites of the sweet melons.

"None taken," Chloe replied dourly. "As you can see, my charming husband is in rare form tonight."

Chloe sent up a silent prayer of thanks Morris was still faithful to his meetings at AA. Going on six years sober, she knew their present separation had done nothing to ease what had no doubt been a most difficult journey. For both of them. But it was in a setting such as this – surrounded by others enjoying the very temptation that so easily had the power to lead him into destruction – where others may have been at their wits end with her prickly husband, Chloe was able to give him a wide berth. Morris did not function well when stifled or reined in. And Chloe knew, from firsthand experience, whenever the attempt to do so was made the outcome could be incredibly frustrating, humiliating, and a whole other host of adjectives. Still, she had to admit to harboring just a slight case of nerves. By her estimation they still had a good hour or so left before the party was over and if Morris was like this now (his "bored" phase), she didn't even want to entertain what he'd be like when he was bored and irritable.

"You know, Chloe luv, it's not too late for us to bug out of here. I'd as soon be spending the evening over at Taco John's." He dismissed the look of disbelief she sailed his way. "What? Ten Buck Taco Nite is a win-win; all the tacos you can eat for $10, plus half-priced pitchers! Sounds like a good and proper feast for someone like me who avoids kitchen labor at all costs. Not to mention cheap, since I'll forego the suds. And best of all? No prunes!" he declared as he polished off the last hors d'oeuvre. "What more can you ask for?"

"I don't know. . . that the tacos actually be made of real meat maybe?" Curtis Manning taunted as he took a seat at the table.

"You know, I am sick and tired of you berating my fast food choices, Manning," Morris griped. "Just because we aren't all walking walls of muscle like you-"

"Hey, hey, you two. . .enough!" Michelle demanded. "You know what? Nevermind." Upon hearing the faint strains of piano flowing from the speakers she decided she'd much rather spend her time in her husband's arms. "Tony, sweetheart," she turned to her spouse, "what do you say we go take a spin on the dance floor?"

"It's good to see you smiling again," Audrey said softly, cupping the side of his face.

She took it as a 'sign' he was returning back to his old self and the unseemly sexual antics from several nights earlier were all but a thing of the past. Smoothly draping her arm within his, she basked in having him at her side. For the better part of the evening rarely had Jack been more than a few feet away. As they moved about the room, Audrey nodding and smiling her thanks to all they came in contact with, she would occasionally place her free hand at the breast pocket of Jack's cobalt blue suit coat; totally oblivious to the fact she did so only when encountering female guests.

The act was not lost on Jack but he said nothing; he had resolved tonight was "her night" and he would willingly commit to being the arm candy, trophy, or whatever she required him to be. Whatever it took to please her and make the moment sweeter. For her. The gathering held no particular joy for Jack; in the sense it was merely just another social event—something he was never particularly partial to. He would reserve his excitement for the wedding reception; even though he knew if on a scale of 1-10 Audrey was currently an 8 in terms of control, anxiety, and overall nerves, on that day she would be a 15, and that was if he were to give a conservative estimate. Still, he could not begrudge her this moment. As he beheld the smile of love and contentment adorning her features he resolved a "dog and pony show" was the least he could endure for his future wife.

Audrey for her part found it hard to form a coherent thought whenever she gazed up into Jack's azure pools. He tended to have that effect on her, but as of late it only seemed to intensify. She knew why. A little over two weeks from now they'd be married; the fulfilment of a dream deferred for far too long, in the attractive blonde's opinion. Soon, she'd have the life she wanted with the man she wanted.

Life was, in a word, perfect.

"Dance with me, Jack?" Audrey knew her husband-to-be would be defenseless in the wake of the brilliant smile she graced him with.

"Of course, sweetheart," Jack answered, smiling. "How can I refuse a smile like that?" He leaned in to steal a quick kiss. "But then you knew that," he murmured against her mouth, laughing softly, "didn't you?"

"Maybe. . .perhaps. . .possibly," she teased. Drawing back, she joined him in laughter. "Okay, yes!" Her laughter ceased as she gave pause to the opening strains of piano from an unfamiliar tune. "Hmm. . .I don't recall adding that song to my playlist." She shrugged. "But it is lovely, especially the piano if I remember the song correctly."

"No, no," she shook her head emphatically. "Actually, what I want I can't have right now." The intent had been to tease, yet color began to flood her cheeks. "What I want. . ." Audrey dipped her head and inhaled deeply, seeking to steer the conversation back onto less suggestive ground. Finally, she allowed her gaze to meet Jack's. "I want you right here with me." As Jack led her to the dance floor Audrey paused, halting her steps in an attempt to have a closer listen to the tune. "Actually, I know this song. You know, I think I may have to add this to my list of possible choices."

"The song we use for our First Dance. Listen to the lyrics, Jack. The more I think about it, this song could be perfect; it could actually be our song!"

"I'll have to give it a listen sometime," he nodded. "Oh, you mean now?"

"Yes!" Audrey playfully swatted his arm. "I mean now!"

"Okay, okay," he laughed. As they slowly began to sway to the soft music, of its own volition Jack's hand drifted from Audrey's waist to the small of her back, only to return moments later to its former location as she gave him a pleading yet undeniably chastising look. "Sorry, sweetheart." He sighed. "I know, I know. . .appearances."

"Thank you," she murmured, bringing her head to rest against his chest.