Epilogue

Two and a half months later.

"Did you miss me, boys?"

Ultear knew that cell phones didn't belong in a courthouse. If the sign just outside the metal detectors wasn't enough, her prior dealings with Fiore's lauded justice system left no room for interpretation. No meant no… until someone came up with a better argument. The law was ironic that way. All rules were made to be bent if one didn't mind breaking them every so often. And if that wasn't the most tempting invitation.

"How nice to see you again Ms. Milkovich," Officer Sting Eucliffe responded flatly, devoid of the smallest hint of enthusiasm. The blonde sentinel grabbed his handheld metal detector in anticipation. "You know the drill. Empty your pockets, hand over that purse and step through."

Having no other choice, Ultear complied. She readied her explanations as Eucliffe's partner, Officer Rogue Cheney, rummaged through her sleek black clutch with a long pointed instrument. As expected, the walk-through metal detector sang out as the dark-haired beauty reached the other side. Eucliffe grimaced and began running the wand over Ms. Milkovich figure, wincing as it beeped in sensitive, but predictable places.

"Careful Officers," Ultear stated haughtily. "That bag is Saint Laurent, and we all know what you're detecting. Shall we summon Deputy Agria? I do love to show off my jewelry to someone who's so easily flustered. Such a porcelain doll, that one."

"Her bag's good to go," Rogue announced, handing it gingerly back to its owner. "The machine must be acting up again. A few piercings shouldn't be setting it off, but it wouldn't be the first time." Just as expected, Rogue's rationale was succinct, reasonable and utterly wrong. The phone tucked neatly into the waistband of Ultear's red skirt, grew hot against her bare belly button.

"Damn thing," Sting spat. He was never one to inconvenience Yukino if it could be helped. "What are you here for anyway, Milkovich? I thought you graduated drug court."

"Clean as a whistle, Officers. Scout's honor." Ultear executed a lazy three-finger salute, and Officer Cheney smirked in disbelief. "I'm here for a wedding."

…

They let her through with only a few words of caution, and after a quick trip to the restroom, Ultear sauntered down the narrow hallway toward Division F, The Honorable Makarov Dreyar's chambers, with her bedazzled purple cell phone in hand. The odds were good that none of Erza's friends knew she was coming, and Ultear preferred it that way. Jellal should have known better than to leave his phone unattended at work. Or perhaps, she reasoned, brushing her blunt cut dark violet hair over her shoulder, it was just his way of inviting her.

After all, what good was a shotgun wedding without a gun in attendance? Though, in any case, Ultear considered herself more of a metaphorical pistol.

The young woman didn't have to search for her intended audience. The fairytale kids, as she'd taken to calling them, were an easy bunch to spot, all neatly paired up with one another in their own small, circular world. Erza's friends reminded Ultear of a bible story shoved down her throat by one of her nameless, faceless nannies; Noah's ark was the name that came to mind. The gaggle of stodgy boy-girl pairs split out from Division F's doors into the common waiting area. Their boisterous voices dripped with levity as the litigants surrounding them rung their hands and made small talk with their lawyers.

All except Jellal and Erza, and even then, mainly Jellal.

"Hey, stranger." Ultear tapped a recognizable set of shoulders standing at the periphery of the small crowd. In addition to his trademarked scowl, Jellal wore a blue collared buttondown and black slacks. She chuckled wryly at the way his shirt clashed against his hair.

As expected, Jellal's expression was a satisfying mixture of surprise and amusement. So predictable. He really should have changed his phone's passcode.

"Should I even ask how you found out about this?" he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. It was rhetorical, but all the same, Ultear answered.

"No. I thought you could use someone in your corner," she replied haughtily. "Or a getaway car if they all turn on you for stealing Erza away from them."

"I can't steal something that doesn't belong to anyone," Jellal glanced over at Erza. Clad in a yellow sundress, she allowed her hand to rest tentatively on a small baby bump. Levy squealed with delight muttering something about the babies kicking. Gajeel rolled his eyes if only for show. Ultear followed suit with sincerity.

"You know you're turning into one of them."

Jellal didn't bother to deny it, and whatever else she could say about the situation, Ultear had to admit that he wore happiness well. They all did.

A thick wooden door behind the judge's bench flung open with a resounding thud that quieted the group's collective voice and drew the crowd into the small courtroom. A diminutive gray-haired figure cloaked in regal black robes strolled out and called the masses to order. His voice swelled, gruffly demanding the attention of the room. Ultear almost missed the familiar face that trailed behind Judge Dreyar. Then again, the man inside was completely different. Mystogan, this summer's legal intern, was no Jellal, not even on his best day.

"Let's get started?" Judge Dreyar announced with a smile that was almost too wide for his face. "Will the bride and groom please step forward?"

Erza weaved through the small crowd as the various couples took their seats in the worn pews. Natsu threw an arm around Lucy's shoulders as the bubbly blonde slid into the space next to him. Juvia clasped Gray's hand with vigor prompting a protest that was ostentatious as it was half-hearted. Even the standoffish Laxus sat precariously close to the lovely Mirajane. The pretty platinum blonde's pinky met her companion's corresponding digit on the cold surface of the pew.

"Be a good boy and don't keep her waiting," Ultear spoke softly. She didn't attempt to mask her disdain for Jellal's decision, but she respected his resolve too much to try and dissuade his affections again. Erza had ensnared Jellal, marked him with bites and scratches in places only a lover would look.

"You don't have to be a pariah," he observed. Jellal's honest gaze met Ultear's sly set of crimson eyes, hidden behind a pair of glasses she didn't need. "Join us. I could officially introduce you to everyone. Who knows, you might even like them."

The young woman crossed her arms across her chest and stepped back into the shadows. She leaned casually against the frame of the courtroom's open doors. "No thanks," she replied. "The Disney magic of a monogamous heterosexual relationship doesn't agree with me. I'll melt if I get too close."

"Suit yourself."

"I always do."

With that, Jellal turned to find Erza bounding toward him with light in her eyes and cheerfulness practically streaming from the tips of her vibrant scarlet hair. She took his hand, grasping his fingers, and Jellal allowed himself to be pulled away from the courtroom's shadows. If Erza noticed Ultear, she said nothing as the pair took a seat next to Mirajane and Laxus.

It was a short ceremony, all told. Devoid of the little details and religious overtones that made big white weddings so tedious. And yet, Levy looked just as lovely as a run-way bride in her white eyelet maternity dress, and Gajeel had the contagious nervous energy of any eager groom, shuffling back and forth in place at the front of the austere courtroom. Naturally, they wrote their own vows, forgoing rings, flowers and other niceties in favor of a down payment on a three bedroom, two bath house at the outskirts of Magnolia.

As Ultear snapped a picture of the bride and groom's kiss with her contraband cellphone, she marveled at how different love could look. With some, it was a fiery, all-consuming passion that threatened to burn the fields and shake the stars from the sky. With others, it was a slow burn, tempered with respectful restraint and the memory of past mistakes. Love had neither hard and fast rules nor standard expectations. And Ultear, more than most, understood that marriage did not a #happilyeverafter make.

Lucy and Natsu's merry marriage bash was no more meaningful that Levy and Gajeel's tidy civil ceremony. In time, the dresses would no longer fit. The flowers would wilt. Even the photographs would crisp and curl around the edges like brittle, faded memories in a forgotten photo album. Happily ever after had no rhyme or reason, no perfect algorithm to match and pair. The social media illusion was easy to craft, but life was nuanced, less controlled. And for its flaws, it might even be more beautiful. Only time would tell.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. If so, you know the drill. Kudos, bookmarks and comments are appreciated. Also, check out my tumblr, flourchildwrites. Send me an ask, a prompt or even an anon nasty message if that floats your boat.

Until next time!