Best Man

A gray, Buick LeSabre crept slowly up the road, curving slightly to the curb as it rolled to a complete stop outside of the Pritchard-Woods residence.

There was barely any sunlight left in the evening sky as Giselle hopped out of the passenger's side of the vehicle, smiling and winking at the driver.

"I had a great time," she muttered, biting her bottom lip and clutching her purse to her chest before shutting the door.

Stepping back, she gave a wave of her hand as she watched the LeSabre pull away and drive off down the road. Turning on the heels of her shoes, Giselle sauntered up the driveway with a lazy smile on her lips as she reached the front door. She was thinking about the date she'd just had as well as how her sister would take it. How Caroline would question her for answers.

Twisting the knob to the front door, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"I made margaritas, Mike," came Caroline's voice; wafting from the kitchen.

"Shibby," was his response.

"Shibby? You've been watching Dude, Where's My Car? again, haven't you?"

There was a moment of silence, wherein Giselle waited for a response from her future brother-in-law and wasn't surprised when he did respond.

"Maybe," he answered in a playful tone.

Letting out a laugh under her breath, Giselle took a few steps until she had left the hallway and entered into the kitchen, looking at Caroline's back. But as soon as the click of her heels hit the linoleum floor, the older sister turned around with a smug grin.

"And here she comes...Miss America," Caroline sang impishly. "My dress looks better on you than it does on me."

"How can you say that? Your boobs are bigger than mine so you should---"

"That's why," Caroline interrupted, moving forward to poke her right index finger in the valley between Giselle's breasts. "You ain't got no boobs, so it makes it looks like you do. As if you actually have a cleavage because of the dress' corset. But when I wear it, I feel like I can't breathe. It holds me in too much. It's uncomfortable."

"When was the last time you wore this thing?" Giselle inquired. "You've slimmed down a lot over the last year. This has to swim on you now."

"Just over a year and a half ago for New Years," Caroline replied nonchalantly, turning her back to her sister to go about grabbing up two glasses of margaritas from the counter. "I had sex with Mike for the first time in that dress." When she looked back at Giselle, seeing the look of horror on the younger woman's face, Caroline laughed. "It's been washed since then, don't worry."

"Good...because I was about to kill you."

Smirking, Caroline held out a margarita for her sister. "Take this for me, will ya? I only have two hands and three margaritas."

"One for me?"

"No."

Without responding further, the Sinners' lead singer walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, causing Giselle to follow with a margarita in one hand while her purse draped from her opposite arm.

She saw, first, the back of Mike's head as he sat on the couch, his bass sitting on the cushion beside him. As Caroline rounded the corner, she walked by a third or, considering that Giselle was now in the room, a fourth person.

She felt the extra pair of eyes lingering on her as she moved around with the drink in her hand, biting her lip shyly for some reason as she looked to Caroline.

"That mine?" came the voice of the other person who'd been eyeing her.

She looked to her side and nodded, handing the glass over. "Here you are, Tre."

Tre Cool sat in the cream-colored wingback chair, leaning forward, as he took the margarita from Giselle. "Thanks," he replied. "D'ya have a hot date this evenin'?"

"I guess you could call it that."

"Take a seat," Mike commented, patting the cushion on the other side of him as Caroline sat on his right knee; not bothering, one iota, to move his bass.

Doing so, Giselle set her purse at her feet and placed her hands in her lap. "So, what's the occasion for the get together?"

"Talking shop," Mike answered, nodding to his bass. "I had this bass line I wanted to go over with Tre because I had an idea for some drum riffs to go along with it..."

"No Billie allowed?"

"He's in Minnesota for the week. Visiting Adrienne's family with their boys before the kids go back to school next week."

"Ah," Giselle nodded. She smiled as she watched the way Mike's arm -- the one that wasn't holding his margarita -- encircled Caroline's waist protectively and lovingly. And the way Caroline just leaned into him warmed Giselle's heart.

They were so much in love that it was sometimes almost hard to believe her sister had been with Tre, Dave or anyone else. It was as if they'd always been together.

"We were also kinda talking about some wedding plans," Caroline muttered blandly. "Like color schemes, who exactly's standing up in the wedding party. That way when mom calls I can give her some sort of information so she doesn't get on my case again for putting this shit off."

"Ooh, colors?" Giselle cooed. "Did you decide on one?"

"Yeah, actually." Caroline took a sip from her drink and then nestled a little more into Mike. "Yellow. And, we're planning on a spring wedding...so the color fits the season, I s'pose."

"I know I'm the Maid of Honor, but who're the bride's maids?"

"Adrienne, my friends Val and Julie from college and high school...Nick's wife, Christina..."

"Okay...and the guys?"

"Billie's my best man," Mike jumped into the conversation. And as he said so, there was a sort of unspoken tension in his response which no on dared speak against. It was common sense why Tre wouldn't be their best man, given recent circumstances and the history between the three of them. "But the ushers'll be Tre, Dave, Nef and Nick..."

Giselle nodded. "That's cool."

"Yeah, and that's all that's decided on so far. I'm not even sure how exactly we're pairing everyone up aside from you and Billie."

As Caroline spoke, Giselle noticed Tre's posture slouch slightly out the corner of her eye. She could tell this was all awkward for him to sit there and listen to, but he really needed to hear it. To get over it already.

Not to mention there was still that funky tension between him and her. The kiss she'd given him to distract him from his mood he was bathing in at Starbucks once she got him on a roll about how he'd been feeling.

She hadn't spoken to him about it since then and really had no mind to anyway. It was just a kiss, and didn't feel there was any need to analyze it. She wasn't in love with Tre, nor him with her. It was a diversionary tactic, so to speak. And from the looks of how the overall mood had been for all parties involved since then, it had worked.

As the conversation went on from talk of the wedding, to the latest Oakland A's game the day before, and then to their recording processes, Giselle became slightly antsy and decided to head upstairs and change, unaware that Tre had watched her leave as subtly as he possibly could.

And it wasn't hard either. Not with how Mike and Caroline appeared to be so engrossed with each other at the moment.

Having changed into a simple pair of jeans and a dark blue tank top, Giselle entered the kitchen once more, barefoot, with her hair pulled up into a sloppy bun-esque updo. Several strands of her very curly hair stuck out at her hairline, like wanton pieces of uncontrollable brown frizz; like normal hair that had been singed by an open flame, then curled and shriveled in protest.

When she returned, she'd found that dinner had been ordered from Dominos and Tre had been asked to stay. And stay he did.

The four of them sat around once their pizza had arrived, chatting and eating comfortably with each other. Then, when all was said and done, and when everyone was more or less stuffed to the gut, Giselle had excused herself while the other three were starting to get into a movie that was starting on HBO.

She went to the backyard and sat down on one of the lounge chairs. It was something she enjoyed doing every night after a meal.

It was that beautiful time during the evening, moments after the sun had set. The sky was still light enough to see yards in front of your face without squinting, and the colors were a darkening blue and slightly purple. The moon was out, as well as a couple of stars. Possibly the Big Dipper and Orion, somewhere.

Crossing her legs at her ankles she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent in the air.

There was something about the California air that made her heart race. And it made her realize why it was that Caroline loved it on the West Coast so much.

"Want any company?"

Giselle just about jumped out of her skin when Tre's voice broke into her consciousness.

Opening her blue eyes, she turned her head to find his staring back at her as he sat on the lounge beside her. "Oh, hey," she remarked with a smile. "You scared me."

"I get that a lot," he smirked. "So...can I--?"

As the drummer lingered, gesturing to the lounge chair he was already sitting on, Giselle nodded. "Yeah, of course. It's your punishment for startling me."

Tre laughed. "Doesn't sound like punishment to me."

Giselle looked at him, studying his eyes as they failed to waver from hers and it perturbed her a bit. But, oddly, in a good way.

"Tired of the movie already? That was quick. It just started."

Tre shrugged. "I saw it in theaters when it came out, so...yeah. Thought I'd give Mike and Care some alone time..." His eyes finally wavered. "I, uh...I..."

"What's up?" She sat up, swiveling her legs over the edge of her lounge and leaning forward, subconsciously shifting into psychiatric mode.

"Been thinkin' about things. Like, what we talked about at Starbucks," he replied. "I realized I was a bit of an ass. You tried to make me see things a little clearly and I didn't want to hear it. I've been...stuck in my way of thinking...feeling...for some time now. And you have this way of making things make sense. Make me see how fucktarded I'm being."

"Does this mean what I think it means?"

"Depends. What do you think it means?"

"That you're giving up the ghost on your position?"

"You lost me," Tre remarked, narrowing his brow.

"I mean that you're ceasing your need to get between Care and Mike." After a pause she quirked an eyebrow. "You are, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I s'pose. I don't see Caroline running back to me anytime soon, if ever. And I don't see Mike lying down and taking it. He's not about to let himself get shafted." Tre laughed a little under his breath, looking down at his hands which he folded between his knees.

Giselle watched his posture again; how it slouched. It almost pained her to see how he was taking this. But he was taking the higher road by moving on. If he didn't, it'd be like he were beating a dead dog.

"Thanks for being such a great listener," he whispered.

"You're welcome."

Shifting his eyes upward, they locked with hers once more. "I mean, people listen to me when I talk, but sometimes I just feel like no one ever actually hears me, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah."

"I joke a lot. Kinda like a comedian, I guess. I mean...most comedians make jokes to mask over their insecurities or the trauma of their childhood or whatever. But I don't really have insecurities. I'm pretty sure and positive about myself and things I've done and am still capable of. And I had a really great childhood. Nice home, loving parents and sisters. But I still joke around. I'm rarely serious in public, on the stage or in interviews that sometimes I think no one can take me seriously."

"I've seen the real you. You're able to be as serious as the next person. We just all have different ways on how we behave. And if there wasn't someone to be the comic relief every now and then, life would be very shitty and boring."

Tre smirked. "I s'pose." Leaning forward a bit, he added, "Thanks again."

"You're welcome again."

As they smiled at each other, Giselle shifted slightly, hearing the muffled noises from the television inside. But was just that. Muffled. In the background, and nothing more.

Biting her bottom lip, she leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. "So...you wanna kiss me or something?"

"Wha--uh...what?" Tre sputtered, a little shyly.

"I'm tryin' to get a smile out of you," she chuckled.

"Do you want me to?"

"Want you to what?"

"Kiss you," he replied, becoming serious. "You kissed me once already as I recall. And I forget whose theory it is but whoever said it, said that the first thing out of a person's mouth is what they were really thinking. And you asked if I wanted to kiss you, meaning you'd been thinking it."

Giselle just stared at him.

"Was I close?" he pestered.

She offered him a smile. "So the teacher surpasses the student."

"That mean 'yes?'"

"I'll admit, kissing you at Starbucks had crossed my mind earlier. And maybe I was thinking about it just now because here we are, talking one on one again. It jogged my memory."

"That's not answering the question." Tre gave her an expectant look which caused her to laugh, albeit shyly, and shake her head.

"It's evading, I know..."

"You're supposed to help me 'give up the ghost' on my 'position.' So, help me," he egged her on. "Distract me some more."

"For some reason I don't think it's all that hard for you to get distracted."

"True. I have the attention span of a gnat, but that's not what we're talking about exactly."

"What exactly are we talking about then?"

"Don't play coy with me, missy." Leaning forward, he grinned mischievously, looking at the curve of her lips before looking her in the eye.

"Don't think this is gonna make any---"

Before she could finish her sentence, Tre's lips were upon hers; his hands cupping both sides of her face, pulling her closer to him. She broke apart from him a little quickly to look him in the eye to figure him out, but then, without a verbal response, she went back to his lips and kissed him back, clamoring forward as she allowed him to gather her up in his arms and into his lap.

"Don't think this is gonna make any difference on where we stand," she muttered into his mouth.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he muttered back.

"Just friends..."

"I like having friends..."

Smirking against each others lips, they began to kiss once again.