darker_london | Plans (Flynn, Deirdre)

When Flynn entered Deirdre's room, he had no idea he was entering what looked like the site of some kind of disaster. There were magazines and bits of paper everywhere. Bits of fake flowers and a crepe paper explosion sat in the corner of the room and in the middle of it all, Deirdre was perched on the floor, hovering over a flip book of something, looking manic.

"Er..."

Deirdre looked up and immediately she jumped to her feet and ran to his side. "Oh, Flynn!" she said, hugging him tightly. "I'm so glad you came over!"

"You told me to come over..."

"Yes yes!" Deirdre pointed around the room. "I'm going through wedding things! Planning this is SO hard."

Oh god, she was wedding planning. Flynn gritted his teeth, willing himself to keep his reactions to Deirdre's farce of a wedding internal. He forced a smile onto his face, though it was pretty obviously fake. And he asked, "is Giles not helping you?"

"He's hopeless," Deirdre breathed, shoving her red hair behind her ears before bending back down over the sample book. "So he's watching the twins."

Flynn stiffened. The very idea that hapless Giles was watching the twins on his own was not one Flynn enjoyed. Sure, Giles was their father, but he was also a complete idiot in Flynn's eyes. "Oh. Great." He was still unsure as to why Deirdre had called him here until Deirdre held up one of the samples.

"What do you think of this one?" she asked, breathless. "I can't do this by myself, there's too many things and I have to decide every single one and I don't know I just don't know how the hell do I do this-"

Oh God, he was helping her plan her wedding to Fuckoff Giles. The very idea of it turned Flynn's stomach, but instead of reacting like any entitled friend would, he didn't tell her he would rather eat dirt than plan a ceremony would could see her married to a man who would hurt her. This was Deirdre's wedding. It meant a lot to her. When Deirdre had heard he was getting married, she had done absolutely everything she could to help, sparing no expense. If Flynn didn't help out, he was the worst friend in the history of ever.

"Okay, Deirdre," he said calmly. He went to sit beside her and he took her hand. "Okay, take a deep breath. Let's do this one thing at a time. Can you hand me that notebook? Good. Okay. Let's start on invitations, because they go out first. Okay?"

"Okay," Deirdre nodded. "That book is there." She grabbed the invitation samples and flipped through. "God there are too many!"

"Think of your favourite colour and find something in that, that will narrow it down."

"Oh...right," Deirdre looked up at Flynn and she saw his notebook where he had written 'Invitations' in bold lettering with a space for the ordering code. She smiled at him and then she inched over to lean her head against his shoulder. "Flynn," she whispered. "Thank you."

"Any time," Flynn said truthfully. And it was true. He would rather be doing pretty much anything right now, but he was here with his best friend, and that was where he would stay.