Truth Is, It's a Lie

Based on the prompt from the Common Meme:

Right before the group session, Wes drops his wedding ring. Travis, bending down on one knee to grab it (Due to a back injury, sore leg from Wes kicking him, etc.) The group walks in on what they think is a proposal...

"Everybody sees what you appear to be, few really know what you are." ― Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince

"You really need to eat more," Travis said, giving Wes' thinning body a good once-over. "You're getting scrawny."

Wes glared at him, but only half-heartedly. "I'm fine."

Truth was he'd been eating like a horse lately, so that wasn't the problem. That he'd started running again, was. Travis was right though, he was losing weight, but he was also becoming leaner and stronger than he'd been before. And Wes thought that was a win on any level. So, he let Travis badger him.

"If you say so, man."

It was evident that Travis didn't believe him, always more willing to jump to the direst conclusions, like that he was starving himself or something equally as stupid, than to take Wes at his word. But that was how Travis operated, and he had become immune – or mostly immune – to it a long time ago.

"Look, Travis," Wes began, waving both hands in the direction of his partner, to illustrate how little this mattered, and succeeding only in sending a flash of gold in Travis' direction. "I've been…"

"Shit, okay," he cried out, holding his hands up before him in a gesture of surrender.

"Huh, what?"

"Okay, stop throwing things at me, I'll shut up."

"I threw something at you? I'm sure that I did not."

"Oh yes you did. It went that way, somewhere."

Travis turned, pointing in the direction he saw the object had flown. Seeing Wes' face was set in a look of utter disbelief, Travis shrugged and headed along the trajectory of the UFO. Scanning the floor, he spotted something shiny near the potted palm in the lobby of the community center. He grinned in triumph.

"Ah-hah!" Travis bent down onto a knee in order to retrieve what Wes had tossed at him. His triumph turned to confusion in a moment. Wes wasn't supposed to still have this on him any longer, he'd promised. And obviously, he had lied. "Um, Wes? Missing something?"

"Not that I'm aware of why…" He squinted in Travis' direction and the light came on. Glancing at his left hand, he immediately understood what his partner was holding.

It was his ring. His frigging wedding ring. He knew it had been getting looser as he'd lost some weight, but he hadn't thought that it had gotten quite that loose either. Wes sighed, realizing this was probably a sign to stop wearing the damn thing, but he just couldn't bring himself to put it away. Too many emotions attached to it and just… shoving it in a box somewhere seemed like a betrayal. To Alex. To himself. To what they'd had.

Wes positioned himself in front of his partner who was turning the ring over in his hand, admiring its simplicity. Just a gold band with leaves etched through the middle. Basic, but elegant, too. "Sorry about that, it was looser than I thought it was."

Travis grinned up at him. "It's all good, man. Once I picked it up, I knew you hadn't actually thrown it at me."

He knew better than anyone that Wes wouldn't ever willingly part with the damn thing.

"Just in your general direction," Wes supplied.

"Right." Instead of handing it back to his partner like he should have, like Wes was expecting him to do, Travis took his partner's hand in his and slid the cool metal onto his left ring finger. "There ya go, baby," he teased, throwing the blonde a playful wink.

Wes smiled back at him, relieved that Travis was ignoring the fact that his wedding ring had even been on his finger after all this time. "Uh, thanks…"

"OHMYGODLOOKITSFINALLY HAPPENED!"

The feminine squeal reverberated through the empty lobby area, startling both detectives into looking up – and around. Wes' eyes scanned the area quickly, taking in everything around him. Empty reception desk. Empty chairs. No one any- wait. There.

"Dakota," Wes growled.

"Shit," Travis muttered, low so that only Wes could hear.

"What?" Rozelle spluttered, looking around, "what's finally…"

Her eyes landed on the set of dysfunctional detectives and her hands flew to her mouth. Travis was, on bent knee, holding Wes' hand, smiling. Smiling! Dakota was so right, it had finally happened. "WE'RE GOING TO HAVE A WEDDING!"

"What?!" Wes exclaimed. "No, no you're…"

"OH HELL NO!" Travis dropped his partner's hand and forced himself to his feet. "Look you crazy ass women, we're not…"

"What's going on in here," a very dignified, British voice asked curiously.

"OHMYGODDRRYANYOU'LLNEVERGUESSWHATJUSTHAPPENED !"

Dr. Ryan blinked, taking a moment to absorb and decipher the rush of letters Dakota just spewed out of her mouth. "I'm sorry? Can you say that again more slowly, Dakota?"

Dakota grinned excitedly, taking a deep breath to steady her racing heart. "Dr. Ryan? Travis just proposed to Wes. ISN'TTHATTHEBESTNEWSEVER?"

She didn't know what to say and before she could interject, Rozelle piped in. "It's true, Doctor. We came out here and Travis was on one knee, holding Wes' hand. And look – he's even wearing a ring!"

Really confused now, Dr. Ryan looked from the two giddy women to the two very confused detectives. Striding over to where they stood, mouths open, eyes wide, she took Wes' right hand into her own. As she turned it over, she noticed there wasn't a band of any kind gracing any of his fingers.

"Rozelle, he's not wearing a ring."

"It's on his other hand," they squealed in unison. Like a teenaged cheer squad at their first football game.

On his left hand? Oh. Now that made more sense. She let his right hand drop back to his side and replaced it with his other. Noticing the warped band that had seen a battle or two, she was convinced that this was not something Travis had just given him but his old, useless wedding ring. One he'd sworn he would stop wearing. Which, obviously, he hadn't. Yet.

"Dakota? Rozelle? You do realize that this is on the wrong hand, right?"

"Yes," Rozelle answered, "but it was Travis putting it on so…"

Travis made a face at her assumption that he wouldn't know which hand to put an engagement ring on. Not that he'd ever let a relationship go that far, but still. He watched jewelry commercials, he had some idea. Wes saw the protest on his partner's face and shoulder-bumped him, giving Travis one of his rare, full-blown smiles.

"So? You do recall that Wes was married previously, right?" She watched as the two girls' faces fell, understanding that there was indeed not going to be a wedding after all. "I see it's sinking in, that's good. And although I'm sorry to burst your excited bubbles ladies, but…"

"But the truth is," Wes interrupted, "that all this? It's a lie. We fight way too much to ever get married." He tossed Travis a mock-disgusted look. "Isn't that right, Trav?"

Travis crossed his arms across his chest and pouted. He caught on a lot quicker than Wes had thought he would. "But you promised me, Wes. You told me that if I tried you'd…"

Wes raised an eyebrow and eyed his partner. "And how hard have you actually tried, Travis?"

He hung his head in what appeared to be shame, but was more an attempt to hide the laughter bubbling up within him. "Not very hard, Wes, okay?" His voice was muffled from having his mouth pressed against his wrist. "Are you happy now?"

Wes pressed his lips together tightly. Travis' exuberance was vibrating through his body and into Wes' shoulder, rubbing off on him. "We're here," he told them, trying to remain calm and not let Travis wreck this for everyone involved, "to fix things. A lot of things, am I right Travis? But my partner here, he's impatient, to say the least, and he thinks that he can fix everything with a ring." He sighed and playfully shoved at the other man. "It might have worked, too, if he hadn't tried to propose with a ring used in my previous marriage!"

"Oh Travis," Mrs. Dumont chided him, coming in on the tail end of the conversation. "You need to buy him a new ring – or at least a different one – if you expect him to say yes."

"I know, Mrs. D. I know now anyway." Travis looked at Wes and let his eyes sparkle with mischief. "I guess I'm gonna have to find a way to make it up to him now, huh?"

"Yes," all three women agreed, loudly.

"And you'd better make it snappy," Wes added.

Dr. Ryan was speechless. What had actually just happened here? "Okay… I think, I think that we'd better go inside and get started. What do you say?"

The ladies nodded, grudgingly, not wanting to let any of this go, not yet, not when it was just starting to get good, but the doctor had given them all a very broad hint to get a move on. So, they each grabbed their male counterparts and drug them inside the room where the sessions were always held. Giving each one a respective earful along the way.

The two detectives stood, shoulder to shoulder, and watched the couples file into the room on the other side of the lobby. Wes wasn't entirely certain why he'd played into this little charade, but he had to admit that, for once, it had been fun. He needed to let go more often, he knew, but he was just incapable sometimes. Oh, okay, most times.

Before following the other three couples through the double doors, Dr. Ryan gave the detectives one last look. "I don't have any idea what any of that was about, and I'm not sure I even want to know. But… thank you, I guess, for not being so harsh when…"

"Telling them they were dreaming," Wes supplied.

"Aw, but baby, you know you love me," Travis countered.

"Yeah, I love you all right," Wes grinned, "bound and gagged and stuffed in a closet."

"Awww, Mister CrankyPants needs a kiss…"

"You kiss me and I'll kiss you back – with my fist!"

Dr. Ryan laughed and shook her head at them, knowing Wes' threats weren't even close to serious tonight. He was actually playing along for the first time in memory. She hated to see it end. "Don't be too long, boys. We've wasted enough time out here as it is."

"Yes, Dr. Ryan," they replied in a chorus of near-giggles.

She left them there, standing in each other's personal space, grinning like two boys on Christmas morning. They were making progress, like it or not, knowing it or not. And oddly enough, she was beginning to believe that of all her couples, their relationship was by far the most functional of the group.

Which was a scary sort of thought in its own right.

But she vowed not to think on that too much… tonight.