-Ororo-

At a very young age both of her parents were killed; casualties of the conflict in the Middle East and since that moment, for better or worse, Ororo Munroe has taken care of herself. She has had mentors over the years but she was never a ward. Logan would have her be his responsibility and she knows that her answer was riddled with pride and stubbornness but she will not be party to a marriage of convenience or necessity.

What defines us if not our standards?

"Why the hell not?" He asks, indignantly.

"Wolverine," she says, sighing.

"We're not in the field 'Ro!"

"You do not have to marry me to be a good man!"

"This isn't about that! I love you!"

She stares at him.

"We're getting married!" He yells as if it were an order, heading toward the door.

"Ok," she manages to mumble before he is gone.

Jean, I'm getting married!

Huh? Get your ass down here!

"So," Jean says, smiling and dragging out the O, "how did he do it?"

Ororo laughs.

"Ah, well that part was less," she pauses to consider, "romantic than the usual proposal."

"How is that?"

"Ah, well you know Logan; he has not ever been much of a conversationalist."

"Actions do speak louder than words."

"Here's to action then."

Ororo lifts her tea to drink.

-Logan-

"Scoundrel!" Beast yells, dropping his arm heavily on Logan's shoulder. "Who ever said 'dreams are for sleepers'?"

"Shakespeare?"

"You totally missed the sentiment didn't you?"

"Mercutio?"

"Excuse my over familiarity but Jean is unable to sit still since news of your engagement has come to fore."

"Why are you talking like that?"

"I am in a mood, gentle fellow."

"Could ya knock it off?"

"Non."

"Could you get the hell away from me then?"

"Non."

"Do you wanna be one of Emma's coats?"

"Alas my anal compatriot it seems that a more pressing matter beckons."

-Charles Xavier-

They have been the truest stalwarts of my dream; even when Scott or I were unable to, Ororo and Logan were there, charioting ideals that even today I sometimes question.

Both have challenged me when no other would. As their teacher I wonder if I have learned more from them than I could proffer.

Logan, in his own fashion, is elegant and dapper in Versace. He tries to stand still at the alter but he shifts his weight nervously from one leg to the other and I know that he would much rather the ceremony were over.

The organ heralds her march and we all take pause: The day has stripped her stoic regality and she bubbles with joy; it's an ethereal quality that glows from her. She is not detached or divine; no one would ever know that she is a goddess.

Her dress is conventional; white with a pearls beaded into the bodice and an extravagantly long train. She carries white and pale pink roses and even beneath her veil we can tell that she wears no makeup.

The Wolverine appears to be in shock and when he settles into the sight of her, his expression becomes soft and longing. He hates formalities but he would marry her a million times if he could look at her like this for the rest of their lives.

Hank clears his throat and I catch him bring his hand to his face to dry his furry cheek.

There is a secret between them, I've know the secret with Lilandra and it is heavy and prodigious to serve as a witness to how completely enamored they are.

They exchange vows and when Ororo fumbles her words Logan touches her hand and smiles, dreamy eyed. His voice is thick and groggy when he professes his undying love and commitment and he fully appreciates that on the surface there are men who are a better match for her as there are women better matched for him.

In the end polarity can still hearts.

Alison Blair's soubrette is a beautiful touch to the exchange and when they kiss the women sob and the men - save Hank, who is choking on his tears - cheer.

Neither would ever submit to having their children live among the X-men. Nor are they sure that they are capable of leading the life of plain folk but they refuse to leave the chance untaken. They will leave the Institute tonight and I do not feel any regret for losing my students; I hold fast to optimism.

There are no more jitters; they run to the limousine through the maelstrom of breadcrumbs. Not even the most jaded cynic could witness this scene and resist thinking, "and they lived happily ever after."