A/n: bit of a departure for me style wise. and before you freak out, no you haven't missed anything. I promise there will be a nice long story to lead up to this moment. Later.
Get Me to the Church on Time
"Frank." Wheedling.
Eye roll. "Yes, Joe?" sigh.
"Are you almost finished?" Whining.
Shoulder slump. Sigh of exasperation. "I would finish a lot faster if you would quit asking me if I am finished every 4 seconds."
Pout. "Sorry."
Thirty seconds later: "Frank?" Innocently.
Head bang against the wheel rim. "What is it, Joe?" Long suffering sigh.
"You know I'd offer to help if I could, right?" Saccharine sweet.
Another head bang. "Yes, Joe, I know."
"It's just, I have this thing on my arm." Earnestly.
"Joe." Teeth gritted.
"Yes, Frank?" Chirpy.
"If you do not shut up and let me finish I will take this tire iron and break your other arm." Death Glare.
"Yes Frank." Sheepishly.
Three minutes later: "Frank?" Quietly.
"Whatisit Joe ?!" growling.
"Umm, I thought you might need a drink." Proffered water bottle.
"Thank you, Joe." Embarrassed.
"Frank?" Innocently.
"What, Joe?" Resigned.
"Are you almost done yet?" Yelp of pain as empty water bottle connects.
"What was that for?!" Indignation.
"Be thankful it wasn't the tire iron." Smugness.
More pouting. "I was just curious is all." Petulance.
"Be curious inside the car." Exasperation.
"Fine. Be that way." Grumpy.
Grunting. Sweating. Swearing. More head banging.
"Frank?" Timidly.
No answer.
"Frank?" More timidly.
Still no answer.
"Umm, Gloria is on the cell. She is wondering where we are." Very timidly.
"We are in the middle of nowhere." Sarcastically.
"She'd like to know if we will be there on time." Chastened.
"Give me the phone." Peremptorily.
"Gloria. Tell Halloran I am working as fast as I can to fix the tire. I am tired, I am drenched in sweat and I cannot fix the damn thing if I keep getting interrupted!" Snarly.
"Frank." Gently.
"What?!" Angrily.
"Let me call Dad. He'll come get us." Pleadingly.
Deep breath. "No, Joe. The last bolt is off. By the time he gets here I can have the new tire in place." Tiredly.
"Frank." Subdued.
"What, Joe?" Long suffering
"I'm sorry." Wistful.
"What are you sorry for?" Curious.
"For not being able to help." Apologetic.
Pause. "It's okay Joe." Sly half smile. "Besides, you would have been more hinderance than help anyway."
"Hey now!" Outrage.
More grunting.
"Frank?"
"Yes Joe?"
"Are you done yet?"
Snarl of rage. Yelp of pain.
"Frank?" Cowering.
No answer.
"I'm sorry Frank." Contrite.
No reply.
Sigh of remorse. "Really, I'm totally sorry."
Radio volume turned way up.
Driving in silence.
Arrival.
Chaos.
"Frank, you look filthy. Go see if your Mother can do something about that shirt." Concerned, yet relieved.
"Okay, Dad." Dully.
"Joseph, at least you look presentable for once." Appraisingly.
"Frank did all the heavy labor, Dad." Humbly.
"Get inside before lightening strikes you or something." Only half kidding.
Pacing nervously.
More pacing.
"Joe." Quietly.
"Frank!" Excited and nervous.
"Are you ready?" Worried.
"Hell yeah!" Even more excited.
Shyness. Reticence.
"Frank?" Curious and worried. "What is it?"
"I love you, Little Brother, you know that?" Emotional.
"I love you too, Big Brother." Tenderly.
"I am really happy for you." All choked up.
"I'm happy for me too." Impudently.
"Let's not keep the Bride waiting any longer then."
"Good idea."
"Frank?"
"Yes Joe?"
"Is that a grease stain on your cummerbund?"
A/n: I am sure you can guess what comes next...now where *did* that tire iron go?!