"Rise and shine Buttercup!" Andy heard, or thought he heard. He hoped he was in the middle of a bad dream, but as he rolled into his pillow, he knew he wasn't in a dream, and he knew he wasn't in his own bed. It didn't feel like his bed, it wasn't his normal pillow, and Sharon certainly wasn't there. He tried to drown out the banging noise by putting his pillow over his head, but it just continued. He groaned, but the banging noise seemed to be drowning out any other noise. He lifted one side of the pillow to gauge the situation, to get his surroundings, and to figure out what the banging noise was and why there was a banging sound at all.

"Provenza! What are you doing? Why are you banging a pot in my ear?" Andy scowled as he swatted away Provenza and his pot. Provenza tapped Andy's head with the wooden spoon he was using to bang the pot, but then he went back to banging. Provenza was, indeed, standing over Andy with a pot from the kitchen, banging it with a wooden spoon in attempt to wake Andy.

"Get up, Flynn. How does someone almost oversleep on their wedding day? You'd better not mess this up. I'm not going to watch a distraught boss around work because you messed up the wedding. I've had to suffer through the office romance. Least you can do is get this right today," Provenza said as he complained more and more to Andy. Andy was sure Provenza said more, but truth be told, he had been sleeping well, which was surprising itself. It was his wedding day, and here, he'd been afraid he wouldn't sleep well at all. He was away from Sharon, and that, coupled with the fact he was a nervous mess, well, it surprised him he slept so well.

"Louie!" the two men heard, and Andy jumped, while he was still trying to keep his head buried in the pillow. He sighed as he rolled over to deal with the situation. "Louie! Why are you in here banging a pot? I asked you to check on Andy, not to trigger another heart attack!" Patrice exclaimed as she entered the room and scowled at Provenza. She made her way across the room and snatched the pot from Provenza's hand as she shook her head at him. She turned to Andy, "Good morning, Andy. I'm sorry about that. I should have known better to trust Louie to make sure you were awake. Are you okay?"

"Fine, Patrice," Andy waved, now that he had turned all the way over in bed and was looking at the two of them. "Thank you for rescuing me," he sighed as he made a face at Provenza. Provenza stood there, still with the wooden spoon in hand, and he shrugged. Andy could tell Patrice had been exercising. She was still dressed from that.

"You said to check on him," Provenza explained. "I wanted to make sure he wasn't dead. His better half, because as much as she's irritated me over the years, IS his BETTER half, would shoot me with a beanbag gun and then most likely a regular gun if I let anything happen to Flynn while he's in my custody."

"Custody," Andy let out a cross between a grunt and a laugh. "You make it sound like I did something wrong. I wasn't kicked out of my house."

"Well, you aren't welcome there right now, either, Flynn. Were you allowed to stay there last night?" Provenza asked.

"No, but-" Andy tried to say, but Provenza waved him off.

"My point exactly. Trouble in paradise if I say so myself. She didn't even want you there, and you aren't even officially married yet."

"Because we're getting married today! Sharon's trying to do the whole can't see the bride thing before the wedding! You should know, Provenza! You've had enough weddings! Patrice, my apologies. I don't want to infer anything. Believe me, you are the best wife Provenza has ever had." Andy sighed as he covered his face with his hand. "I need to stop talking."

"Andy, it's okay, really," Patrice chuckled. "I'm used to you saying what just comes out of your mouth, believe me. Here, I was trying to send Louie back to make sure you were getting ready for your big day. I went on my usual three mile walk that I can't get Louie to ever go on with me, and when I got home, I was surprised to find him alone in the backyard with the neighborhood cat."

"Patrice, I wasn't feeding the neighborhood cat! I told you that the ugly stray just shows up whenever I'm in the yard," Provenza turned to her to explain. He turned back to Andy and shook his head. "Here I was, Flynn, in my own house, trying to mind my own business."

"Ditto! Here I was, a guest in your house, minding my own business, and since when do you like cats?" Andy asked as he sat up in bed and chuckled. He'd shifted, realizing that he was rather uncomfortable on the mattress. He hadn't slept well the night before, and now, he realized it must partly be due to the mattress.

"Andy, he loves that cat," Patrice smiled at him. She grinned, "He even has a name for it now. He calls the cat 'Mittens' and happens to leave food for it. He's luring that cat here to stay."

Mittens, huh?" Andy grinned as he shook his head at Provenza and started to laugh.

"Listen here, Flynn," Provenza took a step toward Andy and extended his hand still holding the spoon. "I do not have a cat. Patrice," he turned back to her, "why, just why? You're my wife! Why would you bring up anything in our home with him?" Provenza gestured to Andy. "So, what if I help a stray cat? It doesn't mean it's my cat now. He's got four white paws. Mittens seemed to ft. What, should I not name him at all? Got a better idea for a name? Steven? Brad? Keith?"

"Keith the Cat, Provenza, really?" Andy rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"Exactly my point," Provenza nodded. "Mittens fits."

Patrice crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, "Sharon and I have talked. We've decided you two are really the long-term relationship of the four of us, the old couple so to speak. We've come to an agreement on safe topics open to the group. Louie's love of his new cat is one of those topics," she smiled.

Andy and Provenza looked to each other with raised eyebrows and then back to Patrice. "Patrice, what do you mean you and Sharon have discussed common topics? What has she told you?" Andy questioned with a concerned look on his face.

"Oh, where to begin?" Patrice put her hand to her mouth and tapped it against her mouth. "Well, let's see. She's told me that while you hate Mike's show, she's got you wrapped around her finger about it, Rusty too. You have to agree to not get upset about the show or they won't let you watch the Dodger games at home."

"She told you that?" Andy sighed as he turned to Provenza. "Introducing our wives was the worst idea ever," he complained.

"Ahh, you mentioned that word, Flynn, the word I told you never to call her," Provenza pointed to Andy. "You might be making it legal today, but don't call the commander the 'W' word," he grimaced.

Patrice smiled, "I'll let you two finish hashing this out. I understand that it's going to be a bit of an adjustment for both of you with Andy now getting married. The two oldest bachelors on the LAPD are off the market, and now, you actually have to go out and be social with the other's spouse."

"Why can't I call Sharon my wife?" Andy turned back to Provenza. "That's what she's going to be in just a few hours, at least unless you do something stupid to block that."

"There's still time, Flynn," Provenza nodded to him. "Stop calling her that. You can still back out of this. She might have become my friend over the last few years, but for a moment, put some semblance of a brain back in your scarecrow head there and think before you go and marry the same woman you used to call the Wicked Witch of FID."

"Oh, lay off, Provenza," Andy shook his head. "You know Sharon is one of your closest friends, and all this is just an act. You're happy for us, and you're just irritated you have to wear your best suit today and stand up there with me, not to mention that we didn't go with your idea of a buffet for the reception."

Provenza just gestured at Andy, but he didn't deny what Andy had said. Both men knew this was all an act, time to just irritate the other as they usually did. "Well, someone has to be there to make sure you don't have another heart attack today. As far as the food, I'm going to be first in line for cake. You might try to limit my portions for the main course, but I don't see any limits on cake. Now, before Patrice comes back in here, get up and make yourself presentable."

"No problem, Andy gestured and moved to stand. Provenza gestured to him.

"I don't want to see that!" Provenza exclaimed.

"What?" Andy looked down. He was wearing a t-shirt and boxer shorts. "What's wrong?"

"Put on some pants, Flynn!" Provenza complained.

"Oh, who is the prude?" Andy chuckled. "This isn't anything out of the ordinary, Provenza. I happen to know you sleep the same way. Let's not forget that you used to show up at my old house all hours of the night when I was in the same attire."

"Well, I don't go parading around your home like that," Provenza stated.

"I'm not parading around in yours either! You're the knucklehead standing here in my room as I get up for the morning," Andy pointed out.

"My room," Provenza corrected him as he nodded.

"Fine, YOUR ROOM," Andy stipulated. "It's normal sleeping attire, Provenza. It's what I wear at home too."

"I'm aware," he grumbled. "Rusty told me the first time he saw you like this, when he started claiming he was scarred for life."

"Oh, stop," Andy waved him off. "Rusty and I are way beyond this. At home now, this is normal on a weekend morning while we all make breakfast," Andy grinned.

"That image is way too irritating to me, Flynn," Provenza grumbled.

"So, aside from waking me from a deep sleep by trying to scare me into a heart episode, why are you still here?" Andy asked.

"I don't know," he shook his head. "I'm beginning to wonder myself, but I guess if I had to say, I'm surveying my guest room to make sure you haven't stolen or broken anything over the course of your stay. Now, get a shower, and don't take all the hot water. Patrice will want one after she finishes her cup of tea. That's her normal routine. Then, if you want me to stand up there as your wingman, I suppose I need a shower too."

"Over the course of my stay?" Andy asked. "I was here overnight, and I didn't even come in until late last night. What, you really think I'm going to steal something from your house? Fine, let's discuss the amount of food you've stolen from my house over the years. I don't know why I didn't think of buying healthier food years ago. You can't stand most of the stuff Sharon buys, and it's the only reason you don't clean out our kitchen when you come over."

"It's not just her stuff. You and your flour-less cakes and all that-Flynn, they are terrible. She's just too nice and charmed by you to tell you the difference. I'm sure she and Patrice have discussed the cakes and how terrible they are. Let's call Patrice in here and ask," Provenza suggested.

"Sharon's already come clean about the cake!" Andy exclaimed. "Well, she and Rusty have both suggested I not make it again."

Provenza pointed at Andy and started to laugh, "Now, that's funny. She loves you, but she loves decent food even more."

"Bite me," Andy snapped as he rummaged around in his small bag while Provenza continued to stand there

"By the way, what are you wearing?" Andy asked, as he turned and gestured to Provenza. "Are those slipper socks?" he pointed to Provenza's feet. Provenza was wearing gray sweatpants, an old LAPD shirt, and apparently slipper socks.

Provenza looked to his feet and scowled. "The bottom has a no-slip surface. Patrice got them for me."

"They have cats on them," Andy started to laugh as he pointed to the socks. They were black with tiny cats embroidered all over the socks. "Man, you really do have a thing for this cat. Oh, boy, wait until the team hears about little Mittens."

"Stop right there, Flynn," Provenza pointed at him. "You bring up Mittens at work, and I'll tell the new wife what you did to her engagement ring before you gave it to her."

"You said you wouldn't bring that up, Provenza!" Andy pointed a finger at him and directed a glare at him.

"Fine," Provenza shrugged. "Leave Mittens out of this then. The team doesn't need to know I've taken in my own stray. There's been enough of that, taking in strays, going around in the department, but I promise you, Flynn, any mention of Mittens, and I will bring up the ring."

Andy nodded, "Deal. Sharon can handle the LA Morgue, but she'd possibly give the ring back if she knew the story."

"Then, I suggest we keep our deal," Provenza nodded and turned to leave the room. "Oh, I just hope Patrice doesn't tell her the story of the ring. Time is ticking, Flynn!" Provenza exclaimed as he smacked the wooden spoon on the door as he left the room.

Andy threw up his hand and sighed. He wanted to kill Provenza, but that would put a damper on his wedding day.