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Post by Natasha on Jan 12, 2007 18:02:46 GMT -5
“Of course.”
Smiling back at her, Frank moved up behind her once inside. Resting his hand on the small of her back, he smiled warmly at the hostess. Brooke seemed to be waiting for him, and he merely shrugged helplessly at her. The woman seemed to be slightly irritated with them, but Frank waited.
“Le nom? Garcia…pour sept heure et demi. Fumé si possible, s’il vous plait.”
Some of it he caught, most of it went by him. His hand stayed on her back while the woman looked up the name. Leaning over, Frank kissed Brooke’s cheek, smiling before pulling back. Then they were being led on and his hand dropped from Brooke’s back as she walked ahead of him. The little table they came to looked very nice, almost as lovely as the woman with him.
Taking the jacket from Brooke, he rested it over his arm. Pulling the chair out for Brooke, he let her sit down before moving to his chair, setting the jacket over the back. Checking once to make sure the box was still there, Frank smiled across the table at the woman who had gotten away so many years ago. As the hostess asked something, Frank waited.
“Une bouteille du vin rouge et deux verres, s’il vous plait.”
Taking the menu he got, he thanked the waitress. Pulling out his pack of cigarettes and lighter, Frank put one on the edge of his lips and lit it, offering one to Brooke before setting them down on the table. He remembered she never liked to smoke a whole one, but she would occasionally steal a couple puffs from his. Inhaling deeply, he was glad when the waitress walked away. Blowing the smoke up and away from the table, he finally smiled at Brooke.
“I hope that’s okay… It is red wine you like, right?”
Licking his lips, tapping some ash into the ashtray, Frank nodded. “Yes. Good memory.” Smiling as his eyes moved up to her, Frank inhaled another puff of nicotine. It was calming him… Opening the menu, he glanced down the items, groaning slightly. Of course it was in French… What could be the word for steak… or something other than fish. He was in a cow mood…
Glancing back up at Brooke, he smiled softly. “What is good here, babe?” Pausing, his smile dropped slightly. “Brooke, I mean.” It had been a while since he’d used that nickname… it felt foreign, and yet… “They have steak?” Looking down at the menu, he tried to bury himself there while taking another long drag on the cigarette.
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 12, 2007 18:37:23 GMT -5
Being offered a cigarette reminded Brooke of just what it used to be like. She shook her head in response, watching Frank put the packet on the table. She’d just grab his later if she wanted a drag. It was better than becoming hooked and ending up on 40 a day and smelling like her great aunt Gwendolyn.
“Yes. Good memory.”
Brooke smiled warmly before looking down at her menu. It was so dear and she was just wondering why she’d brought Frank to a place like this. Maybe a cheap, loud restaurant would have been better. She felt somewhat out of place with the snooty waitress and every posh person around them. Right…the menu. It was all in French and she smirked upon hearing Frank groan as he looked at his own menu. “You should really try learning the language.” She muttered over her menu, scanning down it. A small salad looked nice.
“What is good here, babe? Brooke, I mean.”
It felt weird being called that again and Brooke’s cheeks reddened slightly as she looked up, a small smile on her lips. Frank was acting a little nervous, or maybe he simply felt odd. He however couldn’t have felt as odd as Brooklynn. She felt as though she was dining with a stranger. She’d just come to terms with his death and now she was sat at a restaurant table opposite him.
“They have steak?”
With a quick roll of the eyes, Brooke dropped her menu so she could see Frank clearly, well as much as wasn’t covered by the menu. “No…it’s only the frog’s legs and escargots.” She replied sarcastically, leaning over and resting her hand on his menu, pulling to down so she could see his face. “Word you’re looking for is bifteck. You want it very well done though. You odd Americans don’t like it rare do ya’?” she joked. Most would have a heart attack seeing the steak there. It tended to be rare and certainly a lot better than any other place.
“And you haven’t said anything, Frank. Haven’t you noticed? My English?” Brooke was indeed speaking fluently and now without much hesitation. She’d been nowhere as good before Frank had left, and he’d not said anything. Maybe he just presumed she’d be better at it and he didn’t need to bother with her own language now.
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Post by Natasha on Jan 12, 2007 19:08:02 GMT -5
Frank chuckled when Brooke denied the cigarette. Just as well, he was told by some of the perfect military men and women that it was bad. However, it had served him well the past several years. He had even gotten out of some assemblies because of ‘smoke breaks.’ Then what were the perfect non smokers saying? Nothing, because they couldn’t talk in assembly.
“You should try learning the language.”
Chuckling, he shook his head. “But I have such an amazing translator sitting across from me.” Really, though, the menu was making his head spin. Finally he saw something that might be promising. “What about… moules… marinére…?” Making a funny face, he kept on down the list. Jambes de la grenouille was there as well, but… no. The moules sounded harmless.
“No…it’s only the frog’s legs and escargots.”
Chuckling, Frank nodded. “I figured…” Glancing up as she pulled his menu down, Frank raised an eyebrow. He at least got over the embarrassment of calling her a past nickname. He still didn’t know if she wanted to feel for him what she had. He hoped she did, so that he hadn’t done something absolutely out of character at the jewelry store for nothing.
“Word you’re looking for is bifteck. You want it very well done though. You odd Americans don’t like it rare do ya’?”
Smirking as she told him about odd Americans. Leaning forward slightly, he glanced down at her mouth and back to her eyes. “Depends on the prime meat, I suppose…” Sitting back, he glanced down at the menu once again, finding a whole section devoted to ‘bifteck.’ Damn… now it was pick and choose.
“And you haven’t said anything, Frank. Haven’t you noticed? My English?”
As soon as she said he hadn’t noticed, he instantly looked up and started to examine her. What hadn’t he commented on?! Oh, what an idiot… he was just about to start saying something when she said her English… Laughing softly, he nodded. “Yes, Brooke, you are doing magnificent with it… And in case I didn’t tell you, you look stunning.” That was what he thought he had forgotten.
Engrossed with watching Brooke, Frank sat up when the wine and glasses came. Nodding to the waiter who set them out and poured the red wine in, the man motioned if they wanted the bottle or not. Glancing at the year and the name, Frank raised an eyebrow and smiled softly. Nodding, he took it and set it between them and off to the side. He could spend on their nice dinner.
Picking up his wine glass, he smiled as the waiter walked away. Frank’s attention once again on the lovely woman across from him, he held it out for a small toast. “To finding one another again… and hoping that you won’t run away, again.” Perhaps he would get an idea for how she felt about him still.
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 12, 2007 19:43:44 GMT -5
“But I have such an amazing translator sitting across from me. What about… moules… marinére…?”
Looking away and blushing with the comment about a translator, Brooke’s eyes did however shoot back to Frank when he mentioned the mussels. She fought a smirk and instead tried to look innocent as she pondered over what to tell him. “Moules Marinére? Gorgeous.” The ‘amazing translator’ may as well have some fun with his lack of knowledge. “It’s…steak burger things…” she briefly described, off the top of her head. She couldn’t let him have them though, he’d probably say they were alive when they arrived at their table.
“Depends on the prime meat, I suppose…”
Brooke’s eyes followed Frank’s and she blushed before her eyes moved down to the menu. The mulles actually sounded quite nice to her. Perhaps she could get them with tomato. Wow, she still couldn’t believe she was looking at a menu like this. The last time she’d actually been to this restaurant was when she’d been with a large group of friends and it had been for a birthday. She’d not expected to be there again…with Frank nonetheless.
“Yes, Brooke, you are doing magnificent with it… And in case I didn’t tell you, you look stunning.”
Smirking, Brooke was finally satisfied. “Merci.” She remarked before looking Frank up and down. “Scrub up well, yourself.” She rose an eyebrow and was now grinning. This felt like nothing had changed. Well it did in a way. As though no time had passed since they’d last done something like this.
“To finding one another again… and hoping that you won’t run away, again.”
The grin widened as Brooke lifted the glass up to tap against Frank’s. “To me not running away again.” She replied, bringing the glass back down to her lips to take a small sip. The wine was indeed strong and fruity. Placing the glass back on the table, she swallowed the liquid and her eyes remained on Frank. “But seriously, it wasn’t running away per say. I’d done something to better my life in the future.” Now she sounded like some sort of brochure.
Now his cigarette looked nice. Brooke reached her hand out and took it off him, a mischievous smile on her lips before she brought it up to her lips and took a slow drag. The smoke filled her lings and she still couldn’t decide whether she liked it enough to have a whole one. “So, bar apparently dying, what have you been doing with yourself?”
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Post by Natasha on Jan 13, 2007 1:00:45 GMT -5
“Moules Marinére? Gorgeous… It’s…steak burger things…”
“Ah. Not in the mood for burgers…” Back down at the menu, Frank tried to figure out what else he could ask her about. Pondering the foreign words was almost as much fun as the heart attack he nearly had when seeing Brooke again earlier. “Steak… burgers… hm. The thought it growing on me…” She wouldn’t have lied to him, right?
“Merci… Scrub up well, yourself.”
Laughing softly, he nodded his head in her direction. “Oh, this old thing?” The joking took him back to older memories, things he hadn’t thought of for months. It was nice, having Brooke to share the moment with him. “Thank you.” He remembered when he had tried to have their first conversation. That was something for the record books. That she didn’t drop him there was surprising.
“To me not running away again.”
Something in his chest constricted, and he smiled after feeling her glass touch his. Taking a sip, savoring the strong wine, he finally swallowed it. “I’ll drink to that.” Smirking, he set his cup down and leaned back slightly in the chair. Yes, if they didn’t drink all the wine with dinner, which he didn’t suspect they would, they’d have a treat later. No, the bottle was larger than he had expected, but it was a good brand and the year was, obviously, well aged.
“But seriously, it wasn’t running away per say. I’d done something to better my life in the future.”
Chuckling softly, he nodded. “Yes, you seem to be doing something. Museum tours, hm?” Taking another small sip of the wine, he set the glass back down and tilted his head. Swallowing the sweet liquid, he licked his lips. “What have you been doing? Haven’t had time to find out.” Knowing her, she was doing something amazing. Or at least fun, right?
Taking in another long drag, Frank had just pulled his hand from the cigarette when Brooke reached over and took it from him. Coughing slightly from surprise, the smoke came out of his nose and he took a gulp of water to help. Smirking, he hadn’t expected that. Shaking his head, Frank just sat back and let her enjoy it. Ah, yes, this was the Brooke he remembered.
“So, bar apparently dying, what have you been doing with yourself?”
Glancing down at the menu, Frank let out a slow breath. He hadn’t been doing much… “Work. And partying. And then some more work.” Really, the past couple years had been boring. He’d gotten through it… Without Brooke, he had found little reason to do much in relationships. He tried it, a couple times, but never could keep with them. He was just glad to be back with her. Or at least, near her. Or… well, anyway. Frank knew what he meant.
The waiter came back over to take their order. Frank merely pointed to one of the steak entrees, and when the waiter asked him something, he thought a moment. “Well done.” Glancing at Brooke because the waiter asked as if he couldn’t understand Frank, the ‘American,’ he looked for a little help.
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 13, 2007 15:52:32 GMT -5
“Yes, you seem to be doing something. Museum tours, hm?”
Letting out a laugh, Brooke shook her head. If it was simply there she was, she’d have been beyond bored and extremely pathetic. How could a twenty one year old guide be found attractive, after all? The very thought of Frank believing that was all she did made her laugh. She pulled back most of the laughter and instead simply bit her lip. “Yes, I’m the sad young woman that spends her life in museums.” She finally replied, sarcastically.
“What have you been doing? Haven’t had time to find out.”
That was a better question and Brooke leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. “Well the tours are only for money. I’m actually training in law. There is a really unique place in this city that teaches wizarding law. Only a few students accepted and my application was obviously good enough to get in.” She was very proud of this fact and she showed that in her facial expression. “Isn’t exactly cheap living here and I earn more money where I work rather than an easy job as a barista or something simple like that.”
Brooke took in a quick drag of the cigarette she’d grabbed off Frank before continuing. “Guess I thought moving on with my life was the best thing to do. Spend all of my time working at the moment. Not really much time to sit and think. It’s been better that way.” Brooke had just told Frank nearly everything yet she felt she’d told him nothing. She’d not for one second considered mentioning how she’d been once he’d left. Or how she’d not wanted to do anything when he ‘died’. He didn’t need to know how she’d felt about it.
“Work. And partying. And then some more work.”
Nodding, Brooke let her mind wonder to thoughts of whether he’d been with anyone else since he’d found out about her and his friend. She wanted to say something about it, but resisted. He didn’t know what she was thinking. Not yet. She was still having trouble with comprehending him sitting opposite her once again. “sounds…interesting. Have you not done anything else? Or have you been devoting life to work…like me?”
The waiter was soon standing over them and Brooke handed Frank his cigarette back, blowing the smoke out from her mouth in a casual manner before looking up at the snooty man. Right, now she had to pick what she wanted. Her eyes scanned over to Frank and he pointed to the steak, she smiled behind her menu, finding it quite humorous how he obviously couldn’t be understood.
“Well done.”
Rolling her eyes, Brooke pulled his menu down, seeing what his finger was pointed on. She heard the waiter make a snooty comment and she quickly sent him a glare. “*Une de cela, bien fait pour lui.” She said to the waiter, a small smirk on her lips. How had Frank been coping without his ‘amazing translator’ since he’d gotten there? “**Et, pour moi…les moules dans la tomates. Et je voudrais le verre d'eau s’il vous plait.” The waiter scribbled this down, nodded and stalked off. “***Idiot pompeux.” Brooke hissed as he turned a corner and out of sight.
“Some people…I swear” she muttered, looking back at Frank, her voice full of irritation. Should she mention what the waiter had called him? “Fabulous, apparently I’m dining with an ignorant dim-witted, dense oaf.” She laughed, smiling up at Frank.
[*One of that, well done, for him. **And for me…mussels in tomatos. And I would like a glass of water, please. ***Pompous git]
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Post by Natasha on Jan 13, 2007 17:52:54 GMT -5
“Yes, I’m the sad young woman that spends her life in museums.”
Laughing with her, Frank shrugged. “You always did strike me as the type to enjoy the quiet world of art and architecture.” Yes, Brooke as one to spend her life in a museum was laughable at best. Cute, but laughable. No… that wasn’t Brooke.
“Well the tours are only for money. I’m actually training in law. There is a really unique place in this city that teaches wizarding law. Only a few students accepted and my application was obviously good enough to get in… Isn’t exactly cheap living here and I earn more money where I work rather than an easy job as a barista or something simple like that.”
Brooke and simple weren’t two words that went together. She enjoyed work, enjoyed doing things that challenged her. It was no surprise what she was going into, though it was quite impressive. “That’s amazing, Brooke!” Smiling wide, he leaned forward. “You got in because of your intelligence, of course. See, I always go for the smart girls.” In reality, Brooke was the longest relationship he ever had.
“Well, from what I understood from the tour, anyway, you did well.” Brooke was an amazing woman, probably one of the reasons he wanted to ask her to marry him. And here she was, right in front of him, and he couldn’t figure out the best time to do it. First he needed to build up his courage. Then it was all about timing. Right. Courage first…
“Guess I thought moving on with my life was the best thing to do. Spend all of my time working at the moment. Not really much time to sit and think. It’s been better that way.”
Nodding slowly, Frank understood some of what she said. He had thought a lot about it in the beginning. Occasionally he still did. To take his mind off of it he had started taking dancing lessons. Those in his class said he did very well and learned very quickly. After a couple years, he had learned quite a few different styles. Yes, those were things that kept him preoccupied. “Well, moving on was best.” He didn’t want her to move on now, though. Perhaps he was being selfish.
“sounds…interesting. Have you not done anything else? Or have you been devoting life to work…like me?”
Shaking his head slightly, he couldn’t think of much else he had done. He had tried skiing, though that ended with him in a cast for a couple months. Swimming was something he did almost daily, as well. “Devoting myself to me, more like it.” Work, exercise, learning something new. He didn’t give himself time for a relationship in it all. Some part of him hoped he would find her, and here she was.
As she handed him back the cigarette, or what was left of it, he smirked and took another drag. Yes, that was done. Pounding it out in the ashtray, he finally turned his attention back to the menu. Glancing up in surprise as Brooke pushed it down, he let her do the talking. Sitting back and letting Brooke do all the talking, he merely handed the French waiter his menu before he stalked off.
“Some people…I swear… Fabulous, apparently I’m dining with an ignorant dim-witted, dense oaf.”
Lifting an eyebrow as she laughed, he shook his head. “Do you mind dining with this dense oaf?” Pulling out another cigarette, Frank lit it and inhaled deeply before breathing it out. “So Brooke, I want to make sure of something… you aren’t seeing anyone right now, are you?” He didn’t want to let his hopes stay up if she was.
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 13, 2007 18:39:09 GMT -5
“You always did strike me as the type to enjoy the quiet world of art and architecture.”
Shaking her head, Brooke rose an eyebrow. “Can you also imagine me as an old lady at home with my cats and smelling like last night’s bifteck and fries, while I read a book about how important art is in the modern world I hide from?” Brooke’s accent was sticking out greatly compared to Frank’s American one. She liked Frank’s accent however, it was different and different was good.
“You got in because of your intelligence, of course. See, I always go for the smart girls.”
Eyes widening, Brooke leaned forwards and put her hands on the edge of the table. “You mean there are others?” she asked as though shocked. He’d dropped himself in that one and it would be interesting to watch him dig his way out of his little ditch. She liked being called intelligent however. It made her feel more special. She had worked hard for a long time and intelligent wouldn’t have been the word she’d use. ‘Stupid’, perhaps. ‘Intelligent’, no way.
“Do you mind dining with this dense oaf?”
Brooke smiled widely. “As long as this dense oaf keeps complimenting me, I’m going to love it.” She replied, her eyes bright as she reached out for the glass of wine. Picking it up, she lifted it to her lips. Yes, it tasted amazing. Not something she’d had herself in many years. She dreaded to think how much it would cost. Looking at the name and date, it would be a lot.
“So Brooke, I want to make sure of something… you aren’t seeing anyone right now, are you?”
Nearly spitting the wine out, Brooke gulped it down quickly, coughing slightly. What an odd question. Taking a moment to put the glass down, Brooke reached forward and grabbed Frank’s spare hand, the one that wasn’t holding his cigarette and she held it tightly. “If I was seeing someone, I wouldn’t be here tonight, dressed like this. I would be out with someone else, having decided I didn’t need to see you again.” She said bluntly and honestly. Brooke never really skirting around issues. She preferred to tackle them head on.
“I also wouldn’t have told you earlier that I loved you, would I?” Maybe she shouldn’t have added that bit. Perhaps he hadn’t been serious before and she’d just made a fool of herself. “But…the question is…have you seen someone that you think is…suitable?” she really wanted to know if he felt the same about anyone else. Or how many he’d been with since her. But how could one ask something like that?
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Post by Natasha on Jan 14, 2007 17:40:44 GMT -5
“Can you also imagine me as an old lady at home with my cats and smelling like last night’s biftech and fries, while I read a book about how important art is in the modern world I hide from?”
Laughing, Frank nodded. “Oh, yes. At least you’d smell good.” Rolling his eyes, he took another sip of the wine. Setting it back down, he kept a small smile on his lips. “Though with tons of cats…? No, I can’t imagine that.” That would be an interesting sight to see, though.
“You mean there are others?”
His eyebrow rose as she leaned forward. Ah, she was interested about his love life. Of course. “No.” Glancing down at his side of the table, he frowned slightly. “Not since you, Brooke.” Taking in a deep breath, he tried to think of what else to say. “I tried to find others. But they were never good enough. None compared.” Frowning still at the tablecloth, he shook his head and finally looked back up, trying to put a smile on.
“As long as this dense oaf keeps complimenting me, I’m going to love it.”
“Well, then it should be a very eventful evening.” Frank was always up for giving compliments where they were due. And in his mind, Brooke deserved every one. “I’m sure he can keep trying.” She at least seemed to be enjoying the wine choice. Thoughts of money had long ago abandoned his mind, and all he wanted was to enjoy his evening with Brooke. Depending on the answer to his question, it could be the last one he spent with her.
“If I was seeing someone, I wouldn’t be here tonight, dressed like this. I would be out with someone else, having decided I didn’t need to see you again.”
Her reaction almost had him slumping in his chair until she took his hand. Her words made him feel better all ready, and he smiled softly at her. “You do look amazing in that dress. Though I think you look amazing no matter what you wear.” He almost added, or don’t… but, he didn’t want a kick from her under the table. “I’m glad you decided that, though.”
“I also wouldn’t have told you earlier that I loved you, would I?… But…the question is…have you seen someone that you think is…suitable?”
She loved him, and that would have been the perfect time to pop the question. Opening his mouth to start in on it, she finished her thought. Closing his mouth, he watched Brooke for a moment. Putting the cigarette down on the ashtray, he leaned back in the chair, his free hand moving down to his pocket and digging in. Finding what he wanted, he held it tightly and moved it to his lap.
“No one has ever been so suitable to me than you, Brooke.” Licking his lips, he smiled as he pulled his hand back from hers. Just do it. Just… get up your nerve… and do it. Laughing nervously, he shook his head and stood up. “Excuse me.” Walking to the bathroom, he pushed the door open and looked at himself in the mirror. His right hand still clenched the box. Splashing water in his face, he finally controlled himself. She either said yes, or she said no.
Pushing back out of the bathroom, he made his way back to Brooke. Thankfully she wasn’t looking his way quite yet, and he glanced down at the floor. Something to distract him… Reaching the table, he ‘accidentally’ knocked one of the spoons on the floor. Bending down on his knees, he picked it up next to her chair, handing it up to her. He stayed down for a moment, as if he was taking a breath.
Resting his empty hand on her knee, he laughed. “Brooke, you should be more careful.” Opening the box in his right hand, he held it up, moving his leg so he was on one knee. “You stole my heart, and I don’t want you running away again. I love you. I do. Really. I love you. Will you marry me?” Wow, he was shaking a little. She really made him nervous.
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 16, 2007 1:48:40 GMT -5
“You do look amazing in that dress. Though I think you look amazing no matter what you wear…I’m glad you decided that, though.”
Blushing slightly, Brooke smiled warmly. “I don’t think I’d look great in one of those wigs Lawyers wear. I dread having one of those.” She bit her lip, the thought of having a grey rat looking wig sat on her perfectly tamed hair made her squirm. Brooke was a vain woman, she didn’t take well to anything messing up her hair.
“No one has ever been so suitable to me than you, Brooke.”
This wasn’t really what Brooke had expected. The guy was gorgeous and he had always been brilliant with her, even if the language barrier had been a feat at the start. Him not having been in many relationships somewhat shocked Brooke as she nodded slowly, thinking about it.
“Excuse me.”
The laugh caused Brooke to frown a bit but she just nodded and watched him walk off. He seemed nervous about something and while he was gone Brooke just looked around at the other people in the restaurant, a lot of the couples all over each other and they were all talking rapidly in French. Soon Frank returned and Brooke sighed as he knocked the spoon to the table. “I can get th-“ but Frank was already down there on his knees. Why couldn’t he have simply bent down?
“Brooke, you should be more careful.”
“It wasn’t…” But Brooke stopped when Frank got on one knee and stayed there. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. His hand was on her knee and before Brooke’s brain could comprehend it, he opened the small box and her heart started to beat at some ferocious speed. Mouth open, Brooke’s bright blue eyes also widened considerably as her hand flew up to rest over her mouth.
“You stole my heart, and I don’t want you running away again. I love you. I do. Really. I love you. Will you marry me?”
Then Frank was talking and Brooke’s eyes flew regularly from him to the ring and back again. She hadn’t a clue what to say. It was so sudden, so spontaneous and yet she was actually considering it. Her mind was running manically around in circles and her chest felt like something was trying to break through her ribs.
“Wow. I…I don’t know what to say.” She glanced at the ring and took in a deep breath. “It’s so…quick. I thought you were dead until half four today and now you’re asking me to commit myself to you. To become a wife. It’s like…amazing.” Brooke was still trying to put her thoughts together. Frank was a great man, but did she want to commit quite like that?
“I’m still…I mean, I love you. But it’s our whole lives. I’d be with you forever. You’d be stuck with the…the...stupid, French workaholic.” She was letting all of her thoughts out and perhaps that was a bad thing. “I mean…it’s crazy. So…why not?” she brought a smile up on her lips. “It’s time to live a bit more.” She drew in a long deep breath, laughing nervously and preparing herself to give Frank his answer. “Yes. I will Frank.” Brooke couldn’t believe she’d just said that.
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Post by Natasha on Jan 16, 2007 20:13:35 GMT -5
“I don’t think I’d look great in one of those wigs Lawyers wear. I dread having one of those.”
Raising an eyebrow, he laughed and shook his head. “I think you’d make it a fashion statement.” He wasn’t aware that lawyers in Europe still had to wear those… “You should just practice in America, you don’t have to wear the silly wigs.” He had comments like that before, and she had always laughed at the thought. As if Europe was such a better place to live… He supposed both cultures had their ups and downs.
Brooke was being quiet, and it gave him the perfect cover to leave the table. So preoccupied with what he was about to do, he almost knocked someone’s dinner from a waiter’s hands. After hearing the cursing in French, Frank apologized and moved farther away. Bathrooms… bathrooms… Glancing around, he found the name for ‘men’ in French.
“I can get th-”
Of course she could, but he was there to get it, and it had been done on purpose. He was more than willing to do it. “No, no, you stay all pretty up on your chair, Brooklynn.” Smiling, it helped calm some of the pounding that was going through his chest. His mouth also was feeling a bit dry… No, he would get through this, and then get something to drink.
“Wow. I…I don’t know what to say… It’s so…quick. I thought you were dead until half four today and now you’re asking me to commit myself to you. To become a wife. It’s like…amazing.”
Staring up at her, Frank hadn’t realized how much she could say with words. His heart dropped, came back up, dropped again, and then came back up with hope. Damn her and her speeches! He felt like he was a fish being pulled by the hook, allowed to fall back in a puddle of water only to be yanked back out. Damn her! Just say yes, or just say no. Not more of this ‘back and forth’ stuff. Ugh.
“I’m still…I mean, I love you. But it’s our whole lives. I’d be with you forever. You’d be stuck with the…the…stupid, French workaholic…I mean… it’s crazy.”
She still loved him, but…? He lost his voice, and his face just kept falling the more she kept talking. Yes… she would be with him forever… He never minded being with her, didn’t think her stupid, didn’t mind her being French, and was also a workaholic, on occasion. It seemed perfect, and he wondered briefly if he was going to have to get up and leave the restaurant to stop his embarrassment. Stupid… stupid man…
“-So…why not? It’s time to live a bit more… Yes. I will Frank.”
Why not just get up and leave? Because he had some bit of dignity, he liked to think. Time to live a bit more?! Staring at her knee, his eyes having fallen down, he felt like grumbling. He was trying, could she not tell that? Did she mean she wanted to have other relationships before settling down? Frank was so confused. Then she said Yes, she will, and he merely grunted and stood up. Fine, she wanted to live a bit more before settling down, then- Wait, what? His eyes fell on her as he was half way up off the floor, and his face slowly lit back up. Did she just… had he just… she did? And he will? And… right. The ring.
Taking the ring out, Frank set the black box on the table, getting back down on his knee and taking her left hand into his. Kissing her ring finger first, he grinned and slipped the ring onto it. Gently gripping her hand, he finally looked up at her and couldn’t stop the smile. “I love you, Brooke.” It was about this time their dinner started coming over, and the waiter seemed confused whether to keep bringing the food or wait until they were done.
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 20, 2007 18:35:00 GMT -5
Bidart, France February 14, 1989 11.00AM
Brooklynn had always been under the illusion that weddings were fabulous days where nothing went wrong and it was a sign that the bride and groom would live happily ever and go off into the sunset with glass of champagne each and riding in a horse drawn carriage. She imagined the couple riding off into the sunset, toasting then the silhouette of them being seen, sharing a romantic, love filled kiss.
When Brooke had been a small girl, she’d known what her dream wedding would be like. She’d be brought in a horse drawn carriage and gracefully step out of it, with the help of her footman. Her large princess like white wedding dress would sit perfectly, and her white veil and tiara would fabulously compliment the ringlets in her long blonde hair. She’d glide up the aisle, with her father holding her arm and her mother and cousin walking behind, her mother with a box of tissues as she wept about her daughter. The wedding ceremony would run perfectly, as would the dinner, and she’d get to watch the sunset with her new husband that evening and look forward to her perfect future with a perfect family in a perfect house.
Nothing ever went quite to plan however, did it? Being woken at 9.00AM, Brooke was late. She’d hurried to shower and her hairdresser had then arrived tardy. Things were hectic and as the hairdresser began to wash Brooke’s hair, her mother was talking in her ear about how the flowers had been set out at the church and the guests would be arriving there soon. Brooke had only wanted a small wedding but already her mum had invited a lot of her own friends to show off her beautiful daughter’s wedding. “Oh, It’ll be so fabulous. The cake is ready, The groom, well…” Meredith was still not keen on Brooklynn marrying an American half blood and much preferred to keep the family pure blooded and French. “…he’s fine. Auntie susan is here with her daughter, Agatha, and I am sure all of your bridesmaids have arrived and are downstairs…” Brooke’s mother’s voice faded in and out as the bride was running over everything that could go wrong in her head.
After doing her hair, Brooke’s hairdresser acted quite shifty and when her mother returned to the room after berating one of the bridesmaids about the shortness of her dress, screamed as though she’d seen an unsightly ghost. Brooke hadn’t a clue what was going on and until she checked in the mirror, she’d not been aware of the bright purple shade of her hair. The bride had let out a scream just as high pitched as her mother’s and had instantly pulled her wand out, deciding that a memory charm could be used on the hairdresser later, and her hair was soon back to it’s original colour, leaving an angry bride to turn on a terrified looking young hairdresser.
Once that fool had left, it was time for the dress. It had finally arrived, only it simply had to be in the wrong size. Due to the lack of time, Brooke gave up any hopes of wearing her perfect white wedding dress and instead had to wear a long sleek gold one she’d pulled from her wardrobe for a formal dinner she’d never quite attended. Not quite the same, but still new.
When the bride was finally ready and looking like a bride should, Brooke was put off to find her mother had vanished and her car late. Who in the world had thought of a muggle wedding? After waiting another half an hour, Brooke finally arrived at the church only to find that her groom hadn’t yet arrived. She was ushered into the bridal suite with her bridesmaids and had to wait, dreams of a perfect marriage slowly slipping away into the distance and soon out of sight.
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Post by Natasha on Jan 25, 2007 16:18:04 GMT -5
Bidart, France February 14, 1989 09.17AM
Groaning as he rolled over on the hard pallet, Frank opened one eye to glance at the gray walls. Blinking a couple times, he felt a few sore areas on his body as he tried to roll back over so he could sit up. Where… where was he? Rubbing his eyes, he held a yawn behind a hand, glancing around. He heard laughter and talking coming from his right, and when he turned, he stared at the iron bars that seemed to stop him from walking out of the room. Iron bars?
Pushing himself up from the extremely uncomfortable bed, he glanced up at the one that was above him, and saw the man who was to be his best man, Charlie. He had lipstick all over his face, and even a little bit of permanent marker. Squinting slightly, Frank stumbled over to the little makeshift toilet and sink in the cell, still not all there. After taking care of business, he glanced up at the little mirror and stared in horror at his own artwork that covered his face. It went all the way down his neck… Gripping his shirt, that was unbuttoned most of the way, he looked under the material at his chest.
What he was staring at, he couldn’t comprehend… His jeans were all dirty, and had a rip in them along the side. Seriously, he couldn’t remember… Oh GOD! He was in jail! It was his wedding day! Letting out a groan, he limped over to his friend, gripping him by the shirt and forcibly shaking him awake, nearly pulling Charlie down off the bed. “What the hell did you get me into?!” He heard something pushing against the floor outside their cell, and a tapping on the bar made him turn to stare at the French cop.
An hour and a half later, Frank and Charlie were able to make the arrogant French man understand they needed to make a phone call. Frank was lucky if he wouldn’t lose ten years off his life for the stress he felt building up. What would Brooke say? That scared him a little more, and when they allowed him to make the phone call, he misdialed the first time. Finally, though, it rang through, and Meredith answered… Wonderful. “Meredith… hey, it’s Frank…” The voice on the other line was curt and quick. “Yes… I know I was supposed to be at the church all ready. I…” He was cut off once again, and he rested his forehead against the wall, the phone gripped in his hand.
“I need you to bail Charlie and me out of jail.” Pulling the phone back from his ear a moment, he could still hear her cursing and yelling in the phone in French. Thank god he couldn’t understand it… Finally, though, she calmed down a little and told him she’d be there shortly. Hanging up and being taken back into the cell, he sat down and stared at the wall. Charlie reminded him where they had gone the night before, and Frank merely shook his head. It hadn’t been his idea. No, it had been the best man and friends of theirs that had tricked Frank into going out with them. Of course he would end up in jail after the things they had decided to do…
Half an hour later, he could hear Meredith from behind a couple closed doors. When it was all said and done, he almost wished he could have stayed in the cell than take a ride with his to be mother-in-law. Given his personal items back, Frank and Charlie moved outside and followed Meredith, listening again and again how “Baiser stupide” they were. Those were two words Frank knew quite well, and he merely agreed and took the longest ride he had ever dealt with…
Upon arriving to some destination, both Frank and Charlie were ushered in to shower and dress as quickly as possible. Off they both ran, and Frank tried the best he could to get all the writing off of his body. How did someone write on his butt?! He couldn’t even see back to get it all off! No doubt Brooke would end up finding it, as well… Growling, he scrubbed and scratched and rubbed and tried with all his might to get as much off as possible. Some of the permanent marker, however, refused to come off. He had a couple marks still on his neck and down his chest. His butt, as well, had a few markings that were stuck there for a while.
Out of the shower, he was given some underwear and an undershirt. Doing his hair quickly, he was glad he had kept it short for the Air Force. It made little room for messing it up. Walking out into the bedroom, he was pleased to see his tux was there. Slipping into it, he splashed some cologne on before checking for the ring. Where… was it? Patting each pocket, he tried to remember where it had been placed last. His stress level continued to grow, and he gripped his pockets again and again. The tie hung undone as he ran around the room, searching in drawers and suitcases for the ring. WHERE WAS IT?!
Meredith walked in to see him running around only half dressed, and stopped him immediately. When Frank told her he had lost the ring, her face showed something close to contempt. She said something about how it was all ready at the church, and if he hadn’t gotten himself into jail he would have known that all ready. Staring in disbelief as she started to do his tie, he simply waited and tried to think of something to say. Pulling on his vest, he buttoned it up while slipping into his dress shoes, nodding his thanks to Charlie who brought over his tuxedo jacket.
Soon enough, Meredith was rushing them out the front door. Back in the car, they arrived at the church just past eleven thirty. Rushing up the stairs, Meredith made Frank and Charlie go straight to the priest to wait for the wedding while she went off in search of Brooke. Frank noticed Charlie had missed a little lipstick behind his left ear, but didn’t feel like pointing it out. He was lucky that his collar came up enough to cover up most of the marking that he couldn’t get all the way off. Smiling at some of the guests who were filtering in, Frank tried to calm his nerves. Of course, on top of all the stress of the morning, now he was worried about the marriage ceremony! Damn it, did the stress never end?!
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 26, 2007 2:10:54 GMT -5
Brooke was pacing in the small room, her best friend, Adèle, trying to stop her so she could sit down and wait, relaxing. Brooke’s mind was however rushing everywhere. She’d gotten over the rush to get there and now she had time to think and she didn’t like what was hurrying through her mind. “I can’t do it Adèle.” She muttered in French, stopping in her pacing and staring out of the small stained glass window at the rose garden. Adèle asked why and Brooke just shook her head. She couldn’t explain it.
“It’s just…my whole life. I mean, you’ve known me since I was a kid. Before Frank, I was all over the place. Never with the same guy more than a week, I got bored. Had to have something different. And now I’ll be stuck with the same guy for…ever.” This was probably the worst time possible to be having second thoughts. “I mean, what if it doesn’t work? What if we don’t know each other well enough? We haven’t even lived together properly and his habits might make me want to kill him.” Why couldn’t she of thought about this before the wedding day?
Moving to sit down, Brooke watched Adèle as she came to sit by her. She said something about love and Brooke just laughed. “I know, I love him. He’s amazing. But…is this really what I want for the rest of my life? I’m going to be a wife. Then maybe a mother. I can’t handle kids. I can’t stand them.” She drew in a long breath as Adèle said about your own children being different. Brooke then didn’t have a chance to reply before her mother finally burst into the room and started going on about rings and some men being idiots.
Meredith then moved and sat next to Brooke and asked one question as she rested her hand on Brooke’s knee. “Do you have to marry him?” Brooke laughed and nodded. “You don’t like him, he’s not pure. I know that. But I do. I mean, if it all goes horribly wrong…” Brooke was cut off with her mother slapping her knee. Ah yes, the woman was a strict Catholic, she best not say that. Frowning and rubbing her knee, Brooke stood up and looked around. “Is he here yet?” Meredith nodded and Brooke smiled weakly. “Let’s do this.”
With that, Adèle and Brooke’s younger cousin opened the door for Brooke to lead out first. She stepped out of the room only to see her Father outside and he took her arm. “Sure you don’t want to run away now?” He whispered into her ear, a smile on his face. Had he ever really smiled before? Maybe it was that he was ‘getting rid’ of his daughter.
The church was only small and they soon stepped into the main hall. Everyone was there and Brooke’s heart began to beat a lightening speed as they turned to see her. Then she saw Frank and smiled. If she kept her eyes on him, she’d be fine. It was then that the music started and Brooke’s father began to pull her along. She moved slowly, the bridesmaids and her mother behind. It seemed to take years to arrive at the altar…
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Post by Natasha on Jan 26, 2007 14:35:27 GMT -5
Standing around and waiting was not helping his nerves. Everyone seemed to be sitting down, and there were a lot more people than Frank remembered inviting… His parents were near the front, on the groom’s side, sitting there quietly and smiling. Yes… it seemed Meredith had pulled out the address book for this event. Some had to move into the groom’s side of the pews.
Glancing down at his hands, finally having the chance to sit there and examine himself, Frank frowned at the markings he had forgotten to wipe off. He swore he had gotten that before… Turning to Charlie, as everyone in the pews were talking amongst themselves, he asked to borrow a wet handkerchief. His friend grumbled and walked off to get it damp before bringing it back, handing it to him.
Frank took the handkerchief and started to scrub at the markings on his index finger. It was sore, and he had to stop a moment to look if it was getting any better. Turned towards Charlie, Frank showed it to him before scrubbing at it again. It wasn’t coming off. Not… another… permanent marker mark! Bringing his hand up within a couple of inches of his eyes, Frank stared hard at the markings. They appeared to be… little… boxes… three little boxes. No permanent marker could have made it that perfect.
The more he stared at it, the more that seemed to come to him. Finally he let out a gasp that the first two or so rows heard and turned to look at him. No… how could he have… done that? Tattoos? Of BOXES?! On his index finger?! What the hell? Looking to his other hand, he saw more markings in between his index and thumb. Grumbling as he started to scrub at them, he was now feeling self conscious about the tattoo.
Again, the markings refused to come off. Frowning in concentration, he did it some more, finding this one sore as well. His eyes widened and he pulled his hand up closer again. A ‘three’ was etched into the area between his thumb and index finger… What… in the world… did he let someone do to him the night before? Glaring at Charlie, he showed him the two tattoos, unsure of how to hide them now.
His best man just started to laugh behind his hand, trying to not say anything. It was about that point he realized that his friend had a couple markings on his hand as well; sure enough, they were nearly identical. Now it was Frank’s turn to look smug, though he still tried to think of what to do as he handed the handkerchief back to his friend. How did you hide two obvious (or at least they were now, that he had seen them) tattoos from everyone who would be looking at their hands?!
Everything hushed and Frank quickly turned around, staring at Brooke. His mouth opened in surprise; she was beautiful. Closing it, his expression softened and he smiled sweetly at her as the music began playing. She was taking forever getting up to the altar, and the longer it took, the more Frank felt like fidgeting. However, he felt one tap from his friend behind him before he straightened up and smiled whole heartedly at the woman who had stolen his heart.
When finally the parade reached him, and Brooke’s father handed her over to him, he attempted to hide his hand, twisting it in such a way that was uncomfortable but hid what he wanted to keep hidden. After the weird look her father gave him, Frank merely smiled and turned to look at his bride. Softly whispering, “Hey gorgeous,” he winked at her before turning to the priest. Right… now what was next? They had just gone over this at the rehearsal a couple days before!
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 26, 2007 17:52:22 GMT -5
“Hey gorgeous,”
Smiling warmly as Frank took Brooke’s hands; she glanced down. Why was he in such an uncomfortable position? Brooke frowned and quickly muttered “Are you okay?” in a hushed, concerned voice. She then turned to look at the priest as he smiled at them. She smiled warmly back, and he asked her if they were ready to proceed. Brooke nodded and looked at Frank with an affectionate smile. What she doing simply had to be right.
And so the priest began, “We are gathered here today to celebrate one of life's greatest moments, to give recognition to the worth and beauty of love, and to add our best wishes to the words which shall unite Frank Russell Pratt and Brooklynn Madeline Garcia in marriage.” The priest began, addressing the congregation. Brooke new which bit was coming next and she could only hope her mother wouldn’t decide that it was time to let her thoughts be aired.
Therefore, as the priest continued, Brooke gripped Frank’s hands rather more tightly. “Should there be anyone who has cause why this couple should not be united in marriage, they must speak now or forever hold their peace.” She glanced at her mother who was now sat at the front row and gave her a look to say ‘say a thing and you die’. The woman fidgeted nervously and coughed as if clearing her throat. Brooke knew the expression on her face only too well. It was the expression in which Meredith was yearning to say something that would cause uproar. Brooke had seen that expression too many times to mistake it.
“Who is it that brings this woman to this man?” the Priest finally asked. Her father stepped forward, smiling down at Brooke before looking up at the priest. “I do” he declared, the proudness in his voice showing. He then looked across to Frank and smiled. “Look after my little girl,” he added, a slight threatening tone in his voice. Brooke smiled up at him; she couldn’t believe she was actually stood up there about to commit to marriage.
“Frank Russell Pratt and Brooklynn Madeline Garcia , life is given to each of us as individuals, and yet we must learn to live together. Love is given to us by our family or by our friends. We learn to love by being loved. Learning to love and living together is one of the greatest challenges of life - and is the shared goal of a married life.” The priest certainly had a lot to say as he put his hands together and surveyed the young couple over his spectacles. Brooke hadn’t noticed just how long his speeches would be and wished they could have gone straight to the vows. The quicker they happened, the quicker she’d be able to call Frank her husband. Wow, what a thought.
“Frank Russel Pratt, do you take Brooklynn Madeline Garcia to be your Wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her?” Brooke’s eyes moved to Frank and she smiled up at him, awaiting his response.
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Post by Natasha on Jan 27, 2007 2:31:44 GMT -5
“Are you okay?”
She had noticed something was wrong?! His mouth opened slightly and he made a soft chuckle under his breath. “Of course, you know, just jittery…” That seemed fairly reasonable. He didn’t think explaining how he just found out he had two tattoos on his hands would lead to a very excited Brooke. However, he did smile back and turned to look at the priest. He was kind of scary looking…
“Should there be anyone who has cause why this couple should not be united in marriage, they must speak now or forever hold their peace.”
Frank had felt the tight grip on his hand, and he gave her a look out of the corner of his eye, the edge of his mouth going up in a knowing smirk. He did hear the clearing of the throat, and knew who it came from, but decided to ignore it. She hadn’t stopped the wedding, at least. Then the priest was talking again, and Frank focused on it.
“Look after my little girl.”
Nodding to Brooke’s father, Frank licked his lips. “Yes sir.” He wouldn’t have thought of anything else. Turning his gaze to Brooke, he smiled widely. She was beautiful, and soon they would be done with the ceremony and he could wrap his arms around her and thank Meredith for not leaving him in the jail to rot on his wedding day. Then it was time to turn back to the priest and he began the long marriage speech.
“Frank Russel Pratt, do you take Brooklynn Madeline Garcia to be your Wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her?”
Turning himself so he was looking at Brooke, he nodded. There was no doubt in his mind. “Forever and ever…” That was soft, so only Brooke and perhaps the priest could hear. “I do.” That he said loudly so all could hear, and he grinned very wide. Now it was her turn, and then the rings. One hand reached to the pocket, facing away from the crowd, to make sure it was still there.
“Brooklynn Madeline Garcia, do you take Frank Russel Pratt to be your Husband? Do you promise that you will be loyal in adversity, ministering to him in affliction, comforting him in sorrow, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only to him for so long as you both shall live??”
Where… was it? Swallowing, he smiled as he tried to stop his hand, watching her face after the Priest asked her. Now it was time for truth, and he suddenly felt worried. Would Brooke say yes? Would she run as fast as she could? Did she want to be with him forever? Could she be with him forever?
His hand stilled as his thoughts overtook him. He knew he had the rings there, he had felt them before coming… Frank refused to glance at Meredith for help, and didn’t want Brooke to think anything was wrong. No, she had a question to answer, and if she knew he couldn’t find the rings, then she’d probably attack him…
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 28, 2007 15:27:30 GMT -5
“Forever and ever… I do.”
Smiling warmly, Brooke’s eyes stayed on Frank. He was gorgeous and there he was, saying he would marry her and love her until he died. How romantic. But next she’d have to say the same and she only wished that the butterflies in her stomach would settle down and she could bring herself to speak. At the moment her throat was going dry and she didn’t know if she could do it. She loved Frank, yes. But could she manage the rest of her life being devoted to him? Not being with any other man?
“Brooklynn Madeline Garcia, do you take Frank Russel Pratt to be your Husband? Do you promise that you will be loyal in adversity, ministering to him in affliction, comforting him in sorrow, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only to him for so long as you both shall live??”
Now it was her turn. This was worded slightly differently and Brooke looked around at her mother who seemed to be yearning to run straight out of the hall. Her eyes then fell on her father and he looked as if he couldn’t wait for it to be done so he could go and have a drink after getting rid of his daughter. Letting her eyes wonder back to Frank, she took a moment to take in a deep breath before smiling warmly at him. “I do.” The butterflies weren’t settling, in fact they were getting worse. She couldn’t shake her nerves and yet they were halfway there.
"Wedding rings are an outward and visible sign of an inward spiritual grace and the unbroken circle of love, signifying to all the union of this man and this woman in marriage."
Eyes moving from the priest to Frank, she frowned. He better have had the ring. Why wasn’t he producing it from his pocket? It was his turn for his vows and yet he wasn’t getting the ring out. Maybe it was just Brooke and time being slowed down for her due to nerves, maybe she was just worrying too much because she wanted the perfect wedding and so much had gone wrong already.
Eyes wondering down from Frank’s face, she saw her mother with her wand out and pulling it away from Frank’s pocket. What was the mad woman doing? Biting her lip, Brooke had to stay calm, her mother wouldn’t want to sabotage the wedding. But she seemed to be holding something in her hand, if that was the ring Brooke would have screamed. Why couldn’t her mother have just sat still and bit her tongue?
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Post by Natasha on Jan 28, 2007 15:50:34 GMT -5
Frank couldn’t settle his light head. Smiling at Brooke, he couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked. Everything was working, finally, and they were together. Everything else could wait. Any explanations of the pre wedding problems could be talked about later. Right now, it was about celebrating Frank and Brooke, and what they were starting together.
“I do.”
It had taken her some time to come up with her answer, and Frank had worried he was going to be left there. That she had to look to her parents made him wonder, but that she finally did say it made him grin. It was one of those grins that you can’t stop, and it starts to hurt because it tries to get bigger the longer you have it on. He wanted to hug her right then, but restrained himself. Soon enough.
“Wedding rings are an outward and visible sign of an inward spiritual grace and the unbroken circle of love, signifying to all the union of this man and this woman in marriage.”
Right, the wedding rings… Reaching to his pocket again, he had remembered putting it there. They had a ring bearer, but he had preferred keeping the one he was to put on Brooke’s finger close to him. He had taken the liberty of getting the inside of the ring engraved with the date they were married. Just a little token on top of the rock that sat nicely on top. However, the more he searched for it, the longer it felt as if it wasn’t on him.
His breathing was coming quicker, and he blushed slightly as he changed pockets, reaching in with shaking fingers to find it. Where… the hell was it? His mouth was drying up, and he laughed softly and smiled as best he could at Brooke. Reaching into his pants pocket, he had just been about to say he couldn’t find it when the little tyke that was their ring bearer stumbled his way over to them, holding up the little pillow. There sat the ring!
Taking in a deep breath, he grinned and held it up for the crowd to see. Some people laughed, a couple clapped… Taking Brooke’s left hand in his right, he gently squeezed it. “I, Frank Russel Pratt, take thee, Brooklynn Madeline Garcia, to be my Wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, and I promise my love to you forevermore.”
Bringing up the ring held in his left hand, he gently slid it over her ring finger, licking his lips before smiling at how it looked. His eyes moved up to watch her reaction, twinkling in the happiness of the day. It was close to being done, and yet it was finally starting to feel normal. There was someone with a camera walking around them and videotaping it for them. It was a new thing, the video camera… he had rented it so they could have a VHS copy of their wedding for later in life. Gently squeezing her hand, he smiled warmly and waited. At least both rings had been on the pillow.
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 28, 2007 17:37:39 GMT -5
Frank was taking forever trying to find the rings. She watched as he started to search in the other pocket and then moved onto his trouser pockets. Sending an annoyed glance in her mother’s direction, Brooke felt like actually helping Frank with his search as she simply stood there trying to look normal. There was muttering behind her and Brooke’s cheeks began to redden. Frank couldn’t even look after a ring and she was supposed to be becoming his wife. She could see the smirk her mother had playing on her lips and she only wished Frank would pull himself out of this mess anytime soon. “Please don’t say you forgot it.” She whispered nervously to her Fiancé.
Then the ring bearer stepped forward and no words could explain the relief that flooded through Brooke’s veins when she saw the two rings sitting perfectly on the velvet cushion. Smiling as Frank held the ring up and a few laughed and clapped, Brooke tried to catch what the ring looked like, but his fingers covered it and then Frank was taking her hand and she felt her heart begin to beat faster again, the butterflies in her stomach getting worse.
“I, Frank Russel Pratt, take thee, Brooklynn Madeline Garcia, to be my Wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, and I promise my love to you forevermore.”
Brooke beamed as Frank said these words and slipped the ring onto her finger, joining the engagement ring that was still there. She let out a soft gasp and widened her eyes. “It’s gorgeous.” She whispered, probably so only Frank could catch it. She then looked up and smiled at the ring bearer, leaning over and taking the larger golden ring from the cushion. Pulling her arm back, she smiled up at Frank and took his left hand. Now it was her turn. “I…” She was once more struggling to find her voice.
“I, Brooklynn Madeline Garcia,” She let out a small laugh. She felt so stupid saying this over and over again. “take you, Frank Russel Pratt, to be my husband. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, and I promise my love to you forevermore.” She’d finally said it and she beamed up at Frank before looking down at his hand and slipping the ring onto his wedding finger. There were some funny markings on his hand and she frowned slightly, rubbing her fingers over them then looking up at Frank. She’d speak to him later about those. But there, she’d done it. Neither of them had ran out of the church claiming they couldn’t do it, and they would soon be pronounced…
“Frank Russel Pratt and Brooklynn Madeline Garcia in so much as the two of you have agreed to live together in Matrimony, have promised your love for each other by these vows, the giving of these rings and the joining of your hands, I now declare you to be husband and wife. May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make his face shine upon you, and be gracious unto you. May the Lord lift up his countenance unto you, and give you peace. Congratulations, you may kiss your bride.”
Now it was real. Now she was actually Mrs Brooklynn Pratt. What a thought. Smiling up at Frank, she felt her grin grow wider as she gripped his hand. Best wait for him to lean down and kiss her.
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