Eh, what can I say? I'm a sucker for a happy ending. :-P

Oooh oooh ooh and I'm all moved in now to my new place and my room is so nice :-D and my housemate cooks dinner every night which is awesome (I'm getting so spoilt) and and and... I'm sick with an ear infection (five weeks and counting! Damn you, flights to Perth!) and a chest infection that was getting better and has now come back down on me. I attempt to hack up a lung every 20 minutes or so. Totally awesome. I think that's pretty much it for life updates. If anyone cares. Because some of you probably don't even read this, which means that I could just make up words and you could all think I was like super intellimagent. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. WHAT?! I COULD HAVE MADE UP THAT WORD. I'M TOTALLY OLD ENOUGH. EXCEPT NOT BUT WHATEVER.

Ahem. Sorry. Story time now. :-P

R&IR&IR&I

It's my wedding day. Did I ever think this day would come? If I am to be entirely truthful... no. I didn't. Or at least... not like this. Staring into the mirror, I look deeply into my own dark eyes, and try not to think too much. But still, my brain whirs on... I'm sure Maura would say something about the brain always being busy, even while we sleep, because it controls organ function, bladder and bowel control and breathing... but for now, I just yearn for silence in my own head.

I yearn for peace, and the way I'm feeling right now, I'm not actually sure if peace is something I will ever achieve again.

Maura and Casey, Casey and Maura... the names seem to be irrevocably and undeniably tangled up in my brain and in my heart, but they're not really. One name has always won out. One person has always won out, and that person is not the person I am marrying today.

I think I am making a mistake.

My hands go to my head and I press insistently at my temples, as though that mere pressure is enough to rein in the stampeding thoughts that chase me tirelessly. My eyes close of their own accord, and when I open them again, I have to blink several times before I recognise myself in the mirror. I look beautiful. The dress is white, and strapless, and fits perfectly, somehow making my angular body look incredibly curvy and sensuous. My usually unruly curls have been tamed and sleeked, some of the curls piled atop my head, the rest cascading down my back in a lustrous waterfall, and my makeup has been applied expertly, making my eyes look even wider, my cheekbones highlighted, and my lips shiny. I look... I look beautiful. I look like I could be a model.

But I don't look like me.

Shaking my head, I abruptly lift up my dress and stomp over to the door, heading down the hallway to the room I know Maura is in. I can hear soft voices inside... I recognise Maura's voice as well as my ma's... and though I feel the urge to listen, to hear what they say in such hesitant, secretive tones, I feel it would become overwhelming, so instead I knock and yell out for help, not waiting for a response before I go back to my room.

Walking straight back to the mirror, I look at myself for only seconds before I hear the door opening, the sound preceding Maura's soft footsteps as she comes into the room, hesitating in the doorway. I look at her reflection, but do not yet turn around or meet her eyes.

"You look gorgeous, my friend," she says softly, and my heart seems to clench as a long forgotten memory comes to the surface, of a late night in the morgue after a disastrous attempt at dating that my mother had set up. The memory of the look in Maura's eyes at that long ago time... happiness, honest appreciation, an unexpected and yet highly respected camaraderie... makes my throat tickle and my eyes burn threateningly, and I quickly turn around, desperate to see that look once more.

She looks different though.

The dress I 'designed' (read: complained while Maura expertly chose fabrics and patterns) suits her perfectly, her hairstyle looking both elegant and beautiful, her makeup perfectly done, but that's not the difference.

No, it's her face. In her expression, I see none of the same happiness, appreciation and camaraderie; instead I see sadness... confusion... even despair. She looks like she is trying to be happy for me, but is miserable herself. I step forward, my hand reaching out for her, but I stop long before I reach her. "Maura? Are you okay?" I ask, and her head moves, but I'm not sure how to interpret it... was it a nod, or did she shake her head? Without thinking, I step forward quickly and she steps forward too, our arms wrapping around each other as though that was where they belonged.

Maybe... maybe because that waswhere they belonged.

She trembles in my arms slightly, bringing me back to reality again, and so I ask her once more if she is okay. She deflects, begins to talk about my dress, but suddenly... suddenly the conversation is not about my dress, and even though my heart is pounding and my brain is telling me to run, I stay. I stay, and I stare into her eyes, and pray for a courage that I have never known.

"What if you can get what you want?" she asks softly, and I look at her for a long moment.

"I can't," I finally say, and I don't know how to explain it to her... how do I explain that which I do not understand myself? Her eyes are sad, but she presses herself against me once more. I feel her breath on my neck, and I suppress a full body shudder.

"I love you," she whispers, and my heart breaks, and I wonder, not for the first time, nor the tenth, why, exactly, I am here again. Why I am getting married at all.

"I know," I say back. "This... isn't a movie though, Maura. Sometimes you don't get to wear what you want to wear."

She stares back at me, a sorrowful knowledge blooming in her eyes, and I think yet again about what she means to me, but before I can open my mouth, there is a knock at the door.

It's time.

Time for my life to begin... without her.

R&IR&IR&I

I can almost feel the curiousity of the other motorists, the sensation one like insects crawling across my skin, and I suppress a shudder. I never wanted a limousine for my wedding. It was too big, too fancy for little old me. I just wanted something nice... perhaps an old model car, or... or the side car of a motorbike...

"Janie?" I look at my father, and notice with a start of surprise that we have come to a stop. I look out the window, my trepidation sending cold shivers of ice like intensity down my spine, and release a breath when I look at the church. It is big... enormous, really, and is incredibly elegant on the outside. On the inside, it is even more beautiful, but still... it is not what I would have chosen.

"It's a beautiful location," Maura says softly, and I allow my eyes to flicker briefly in her direction, before dropping my gaze to her collarbones. She is my only bridesmaid; the only thing I would not waver on. Casey did not like it, because that meant he had to cut down to only one groomsmen, but I could not bear the thought of having anyone else alongside me, besides my best friend.

Now I wonder if even that was a mistake.

It is overwhelming, to feel so conflicted, to have two such strong, opposing forces within my own body, and not for the first time today, I yearn for some peace, some quiet time so that I may sort it all out and figure out what I am feeling. So I can let one of the opposing forces win.

Do I stay or do I...

"Yes, it is," I say softly.

"Jane..." Maura says softly, but I shake my head abruptly, cutting her off as effectively as if I had slapped her. I don't look into her eyes. I don't know what I am more afraid of seeing there: sadness or disappointment.

"It's time to go, Maura."

She sighs, but steps out of the car before me, putting out a hand to help me out too, holding my dress while I continue to steadfastly ignore her gaze. My mother is standing next to her... was she in the limousine too?... and I am quickly ushered into a back room of the church, lest anyone see me before my big moment. I take a brief moment to wonder if it is normally this quiet before a wedding... no one is speaking, as though in mourning... but before this thought has a chance to fully form in my brain, I am caught by surprise as maternal arms wrap around me. I think briefly of fighting them off, as normal, but the offered comfort is so inexpressibly alluring, that I feel my knees grow weak as I sink into the embrace instead.

"Jane," my mother's voice is soft in my ear, softer than I have ever heard it before, and that, more than anything else, makes me listen.

"Yeah?" I ask back quietly when she says nothing for several seconds, and she sighs.

"Just... I just want you to be happy, Jane." She pulls back and looks at me. I feel tears unaccountably begin to burn my eyes, and I want to lower my gaze, but my mother's sharp look has me captivated. "Are you happy?" she asks, still in the same soft whisper that I can barely hear. I bite my lip.

"Y-yes," I answer finally, far too slowly and far too hesitantly. Her eyes narrow, and she glances over her shoulder towards Maura, who is thumbing through a large book, the title mostly hidden from my view, but I can make out 'History of...' One of the first smiles that day grace my lips at the sight of Maura's interested face, her eyes bright as she takes in whatever knowledge is in that book. Ma looks at me once more, and sighs. "Jane..."

"I know, Ma," I say, then, feeling a sudden surge of anger, "but what choice do I have?"

"Oh sweetie," she says, reaching out and gently running a finger down my cheek. "You have the power to choose. You just..." she stops, shakes her head, and we are both distracted by the arrival of the priest, who is poking his head through the door, claiming it is almost time and asking for the mother of the bride to take her seat. Panic grips me suddenly, and I grab her hands with iron force.

"I just what, Ma? I just what?"

She looks at me and opens her mouth, but no words come out, so she shuts it again and shakes her head, her lips curving up in a tight smile. She whisks away, following the priest to the front of the church where she will sit and watch her only daughter get married, and suddenly, I feel as though I am 3 years old and have lost sight of my mother in a crowded supermarket.

"Jane?" Maura's voice is soft, and I turn to her desperately, the sensation of helplessness completely overwhelming, like I had been caught in the door of a runaway car. I feel powerless to stop the inevitable crash.

"Maura, I..." I stop, suddenly aware of a look in her eyes that I had not seen in many years. Loneliness. Defeat. A voice echoes in my ear, of a long ago memory: I'm used to being alone. "Maura, say something," I plead, and she looks at me, a small smile on her lips.

"I wish you every happiness," she murmurs, and it is enough. It is the sight of the upcoming sheer cliff face, the concerned face of a stranger. It is enough to give me the strength to pull myself up to pull the handbrake of the runaway car, to ask the stranger for help in finding my mother.

Maura is willing to sacrifice herself for me, but it is not something I am willing to let her do.

I go over to the choir boy who stands quietly at the doors, waiting for the moment he is to open them to let me through.

"I need to see the priest please," I say to him quietly, then, looking at Maura, "I've made a mistake."

Maura's eyes widen.

But then she smiles.

And suddenly, I remember how to be happy again.

END

You know the drill. Review please. Because I'm a shameless review whore, and even though I love you just for reading, I'd love you even more if you reviewed. Not that that should sway you or anything... *pulls hat down low* *looks around shadily* *offers cookies*

Whee, goofy mood tonight. Except for being around actual people. Then no goofy mood. I'm weird like that. Not a night time person AT ALL. Anyway, bye! Love to all, Katie xoxo