A/N: I always felt bad about leaving this hanging, and I'm not even entirely sure what happened. I'm sure life and other plot bunnies got in the way, other fandoms, and then they introduced Marlowe, and though I love this OC and relationship I've created, my love and loyalty for canon just sort of took the motivation right out of me. But the new season premiere has just given me more Lassie ideas, and I felt like I needed to get back in his head after a long time away, so I read some old stories – this one included – and knew I just couldn't go without giving it closure. So here it is, the long-time-in-the-making final chapter of my longest series to date. Thanks to all readers and reviewers who come back for this. :)

Beginnings

Time passes in strange ways when you're in love, he thinks.

Because every happy moment lasts a lifetime, and yet collectively they play too fast, like skipping chapters in a story you know by heart.

The wedding day arrives in much this way - too fast and too slow all at once.

Arrangements made and money spent, his tux and a white dress he has yet to see.

They invite as few people as they can get away with, immediate family and a handful of friends each. Spencer crashes (okay, so he actually did invite him but only because he's dating his partner), but manages not to mess anything up too badly.

The ceremony itself has touches of O'Hara (they couldn't say no), but it is still low-key and decidedly them. Elizabeth's father, her brothers, her sister, and her brand new nephew, with bright eyes that look like the future, all in attendance. Hank – his best man, and his mother, actually saying that he chose right this time.

It all happens so fast, and before he knows it, he's standing at the front of the church and waiting for his life to begin.

And then she's there, walking towards him, radiant in white. Beautiful, as always.

"Nice dress," he says quietly as she reaches him, and she winks back.

There are rings and vows. They are both short and sweet: "I still don't know how I got to be so lucky," he says, "But I'm grateful every day that I did. I love you, Elizabeth. And I can't wait to start a lifetime with you."

"Carlton," she says, and she's tearing up now, even though she bet him she wouldn't, "I didn't know what I was looking for, but I'm so glad I found it in you. I deal in words for a living, and yet I can't find ones powerful enough to describe how happy you make me. I love you, more than I can say."

Somewhere in the church, Spencer and Guster are tearing up as O'Hara just sighs contently. Hank is beaming and Elizabeth's mother is crying, and a photographer is snapping a picture. Carlton sees none of this, his eyes only for her. There are "I Dos" and a kiss that nearly stops his heart, nearly stops the world from turning.

Sometime later, just after their first dance, Spencer's trying to make a toast but O'Hara steals his moment. "To Carlton and Elizabeth," she says, raising a glass, "and here's to thanking God they took my dating advice." Appreciative laughter on all sides, and he hugs her tightly. He'll never be sure how to pay this one back, but he hopes his thank you is enough for now.

Don't ask him how, but Gus catches the bouquet and Henry nearly knocks over the cake, but they all manage to get through the ceremony and reception with only a handful of crises, and only two psychic outbursts. The party lasts too long when all he wants to do is take her in his arms, and when they finally make it away from a cheering, congratulating crowd, she takes his hand in his.

There's a limo waiting and two tickets in his pocket. She's always wanted to see Italy, and though he's not much for traveling, he's already promised to take her anywhere she wants to go.

She rests up against him in the backseat of the limo, and says, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he replies, and he's never meant anything more in his life.

He's a lucky man indeed, and he knows with certainty that this isn't a happy ending.

Because it isn't an ending at all.

That's okay, though. A happy beginning suits them just fine.