Chapter 43: Wedding Planning Begins
The budget reality hit three days after the proposal.
Fiona sat at the kitchen table with wedding magazines V had stolen from somewhere, her expression cycling between excitement and despair.
"Average wedding costs $25,000," she read aloud. "Who the fuck has $25,000?"
Debbie looked up from sketches of dress ideas. "We could save up?"
"By what, 2020? August is six months away." Fiona closed the magazine with unnecessary force. "This is stupid. We can't afford a wedding."
Ben poured coffee, careful not to spill. "We can afford our wedding. Just not a magazine wedding."
"What's the difference?"
"Magazine weddings are performances. Ours will be family." Ben sat across from her, pulling scratch paper closer. "Backyard ceremony. Alibi reception. Homemade food. Close family only. Under $3,000 total."
Fiona stared at him. "Three thousand dollars? That's it?"
"That's plenty." Ben's MacGyver Mind had calculated costs obsessively—ceremony decorations, food supplies, basic flowers, marriage license. His savings could cover it without destroying their financial stability. "V and Kev are offering the Alibi for free. Your family can handle food. We just need basics."
"I can make decorations!" Debbie volunteered. "Paper flowers, banners, centerpieces. All DIY."
"I'll handle setup," Carl added. "Ben taught me building stuff."
Ian appeared in the doorway. "Mickey and I can manage music. Playlist instead of DJ."
Lip arrived from MIT for spring break, took one look at the planning chaos, and sighed. "I'll handle legal paperwork. License, witnesses, making sure everything's official."
Fiona's eyes welled with tears. "You're all helping?"
"It's your wedding," Debbie said like it was obvious. "Of course we're helping."
V arrived moments later with more stolen magazines and aggressive enthusiasm. "Okay, let's plan this thing! Colors?"
"No pastels," Fiona said immediately.
"Good, pastels are boring. What about blue and silver?"
"That could work."
Ben watched his fiancée and best friend debate color schemes while the kids contributed ideas ranging from useful to absurd. This was wedding planning Gallagher-style—chaotic, collaborative, budget-conscious, and genuine.
This is what she deserves. Not a magazine perfect wedding but a family-made one. Real instead of performed.
His Danger Intuition pulsed suddenly—sharp, insistent. Ben's vision blurred. Images flooded in:
Handsome guy. Charming smile. Cocaine on a coffee table. Handcuffs. Orange jumpsuit. Fiona separated from him, trapped, isolated.
The warning was clearer than usual. Someone was entering their orbit who threatened Fiona specifically. Not physical danger—romantic, attraction-based threat with legal consequences.
Robbie. Has to be Robbie from Season 2. Mike Pratt's brother. The one who brings cocaine, causes Fiona's house arrest, ruins everything out of spite.
Ben forced himself back to present. Fiona was looking at him with concern.
"You okay? You zoned out."
"Sorry. Just thinking about setup logistics." He stood, headed for his laptop. "I'm going to research vendors. Make sure we're getting best prices."
"Ben, you don't have to—"
"I want to. This is our wedding. I want it to be perfect."
Fiona smiled, touched. "Perfect doesn't require money."
"I know. But preparation never hurts."
He retreated to the living room, laptop open, mind racing. His Danger Intuition was showing Robbie's approach with more detail than usual—the threat was romantic, cocaine-related, legal. Which meant Mike Pratt's brother would appear soon, charm Fiona, bring cocaine to their home, cause the arrest that led to house arrest.
I can prevent it. Research Fiona's coworkers at Worldwide Cup, identify Mike and Robbie, create distance before attraction develops, use Silver Tongue to ensure Fiona never falls for Robbie's charm.
But that was control. Manipulation. Exactly what he'd promised not to do.
I can prepare instead. Make sure our house has no illegal substances, that Fiona's never alone with Robbie, that security is tight enough to prevent planted evidence. Increase home security, install cameras, document everything so if cocaine appears, we can prove it was planted.
That was better. Preparation without control, protection without manipulation.
Ben started researching home security systems his budget could afford. Not elaborate—basic cameras, good locks, documentation. Creating paper trails that would protect Fiona if disaster struck.
Two weeks later, Fiona noticed.
"Why did you install cameras?" She pointed at the small unit above their front door.
"Security. Neighborhood's been having break-ins." The lie came easily, smoothed by Silver Tongue's automatic activation.
"Has it? I hadn't heard."
"Mrs. Rodriguez mentioned it. I figured better safe than sorry."
Fiona accepted this, distracted by wedding planning. V had convinced her to visit bridal shops—nothing fancy, just looking at dresses to find her style.
Ben used the time to install more cameras. Backyard, side door, garage entrance. Every angle covered, every entry point documented. If Robbie appeared, if cocaine showed up, there would be evidence of tampering.
His Danger Intuition pulsed steady warnings. The threat was approaching, timing uncertain but inevitable.
Weeks. Maybe a month. Robbie enters their lives soon. I need everything ready before that happens.
Ben created emergency plans using MacGyver Mind—protocol if police arrived, documentation of household inventory, proof of legitimate income sources, legal contacts prepared. Treating the approaching threat like military operation: anticipate, prepare, defend.
Lip caught him marking exit routes on a floor plan.
"What are you doing?"
"Preparing."
"For what? A siege?"
"For whatever comes next." Ben saved the file, closed his laptop. "Life in South Side means preparing for disaster."
"You're paranoid."
"I'm careful."
"There's a difference." Lip sat down, studying Ben with uncomfortable intensity. "Your 'bad feelings' again?"
"Yeah."
"About what specifically?"
"Can't see details. Just know something's coming that threatens Fiona. Legally, romantically, through attraction that leads to consequences." Ben chose words carefully—truth without revealing full foreknowledge. "I'm preparing so we can handle it."
"Handle how?"
"Evidence, documentation, security. Can't prevent every disaster but can survive disasters better with preparation."
Lip was quiet, processing. "You're talking about house arrest possibility."
"Among other things."
"From what? Fiona doesn't do drugs, doesn't commit crimes. What would lead to arrest?"
Planted cocaine. False accusations. Being in wrong place at wrong time with wrong person. "Don't know specifics. Just preparing generally."
"That's fucked up."
"That's life."
Lip left, taking his concerns with him. Ben returned to his emergency plans, adding contingencies, creating backup documentation, building protective walls around the woman he loved.
Wedding planning continued parallel to Ben's preparations.
Debbie created decorations from craft supplies. Carl built an arch from salvaged wood. Ian and Mickey assembled playlist spanning Fiona's musical taste. V coordinated food—everyone bringing dishes potluck-style instead of catering.
Frank complained constantly but stayed mostly out of the way.
Fiona tried on dresses at secondhand stores, finding simple white dress for $200. Not designer, not perfect, but hers.
"You look beautiful," Ben said when she showed him.
"It's plain."
"It's perfect."
She smiled, kissed him. "You're biased."
"Extremely."
March arrived with false warmth. The wedding was set for mid-August—five months away. Plenty of time for planning, preparation, and facing whatever threats approached.
Ben's Danger Intuition grew louder. The romantic threat, the cocaine connection, the legal consequences—all approaching faster than anticipated. He enhanced security, checked documentation, prepared responses to scenarios his Danger Intuition showed in fragments.
Handsome guy. Fiona attracted. Cocaine appears. House arrest. Separation.
I can't prevent the attraction—Fiona has free will, deserves agency. Can't control who she finds appealing. But I can prevent consequences. Can protect her from legal disaster even if I can't protect her from emotional temptation.
That night, wedding planning temporarily paused, Ben held Fiona and thought about the chaos approaching. She was happy now, excited about their wedding, unaware of the storms his powers showed gathering.
Five months until we're married. However long until disaster strikes. I'll use every tool, every power, every resource to make sure we survive whatever comes next.
Because I promised forever. And forever starts with making it through the approaching crisis intact.
Fiona fell asleep in his arms, engagement ring catching moonlight. Ben stayed awake, mind racing through scenarios, preparing for threats she didn't know existed yet.
Protection without control. Preparation without manipulation. That was the balance he'd promised himself.
He'd keep that promise even as danger approached, even as his Danger Intuition screamed warnings, even as the future he'd watched on TV prepared to test everything they'd built.
Tomorrow brought more wedding planning. Tomorrow brought more preparations. Tomorrow brought them one day closer to marriage and one day closer to crisis.
But tonight, Fiona slept peacefully in his arms, unaware of the storms approaching.
Ben would make sure she survived those storms. Whatever it took.
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