Epilogue:

Arnold's hands were sweaty as he watched her walk down the aisle towards him. She was smiling, nervous… her fingers clutched around her bouquet, and her hair swept up into some fancy up-do.

Gerald winked at him. "Showtime!" he grinned, looking as relaxed and confident as ever.

God she looks beautiful.

Arnold stared at Helga as she slowly came closer. She gave him a shy smile, before moving to stand at the other side of the altar. He couldn't take his eyes off her. His heart was thumping, nerves were roiling in his stomach.

Phoebe made her way down the aisle next, gripping her father's arm, beaming from ear to ear. She looked gorgeous too, in her strapless white dress… but Arnold barely noticed, preferring to gaze at his girlfriend instead.

Helga smiled at him, nodding towards Phoebes, blushing when he didn't dote on the bride, but just grinned at the bridesmaid. He tried to pay attention to what was going on around him, but kept feeling his eyes being drawn back to that girl… the girl he loved… the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Please let her say yes.

After Phoebe handed Helga her bouquet, and they all turned to face the celebrant, Arnold let his mind wander.

This past year-and-a-bit had been amazing. It had been hard, sure… what with finding out about his parents, trying to get the house in order… getting used to living with his girlfriend…

She had been his rock. She was the one who made him realise that he didn't have to answer to anyone, that his decision about whether to contact his parents or not was his decision… that he could put it off, or change his mind, as much as he wanted. He loved her for that, for helping him sort his shit out.

She was helping him sort the house out, too. She hung wallpaper and fixed skirting boards, changed light bulbs and worked in the garden. She had moved in two moths after they had first had sex… that incredible, awkward afternoon on the sofa. She didn't spend a night at her own place after that day, so they figured it was just logical for her to move her stuff in.

It was hard, granted. They fought… over stupid shit… like what colour to paint walls, or what they would have for dinner. The fought over other things too… like whether they were right for each other, or if they were just doomed. Those fights, however, were normally just Helga being scared… reverting back to her old fight-or-flight ways. He knew how to handle them, and they were getting less and less frequent.

But asides from that… their life was awesome.

Helga's novel was going to print, she was going to be a published author. Arnold grinned to himself… the celebratory sex after getting that news had been amazing. He shook himself… getting a boner at Gerald's wedding probably wasn't the best idea…

His eyes slipped to Helga, she was staring at the celebrant with that distant look in her eyes… he wondered what she was thinking about. Probably the dogs… or the kittens…

His house was back to being a menagerie. They had started 'fostering' for the local animal welfare groups when Helga had come home with a stray kitten one day, and the local pound was too full to take it. At the moment they had two dogs, a puppy, a mother cat with a litter of seven kittens, and a rabbit… and Dot, of course.

He loved it.

He loved coming home at the end of the day. Often, he left work a few minutes early so that he could meet Helga and they could go home together. He loved Fridays, when they normally grabbed Thai and headed over to Gerald's. He loved feeling established, secure. He loved how Helga slept in the nude. He loved bringing her cups of tea when she was writing. He loved that they read books together, her head on his chest as they read the same page, or them reading out loud to each other. He loved seeing her in print ads when she did her occasional modelling jobs. He loved having her on his arm, he loved her skin, her mouth, her hair… He loved her so fucking much.

Please let her say yes.

…

"I missed you." Helga grabbed his jacket by the lapels and kissed him.

He grinned, falling against her, pinning her to the wall in the small service corridor that branched off the ballroom. The drone of voices and the clinking of glasses echoed through from the reception.

"You missed me?" he asked, bending down to kiss her neck, knowing that it drove her crazy. "But we've been together all afternoon!"

She groaned. Her head hit the wall as she let it fall back. "Gah… you know what I mean. Last night was the first time we've slept apart! Then the stress of the hens night and the wedding… then all the photos and shit." Her fingers came up to touch his face. "I just want to go home."

"You haven't had fun?" He asked, bringing his fingers up to trace the spaghetti straps of her blue satin dress.

She laughed. "The fun parts about to begin!" she giggled, gasping a little as he took her earlobe between his lips. "Oh Jesus…" she swallowed. "It's booze and cake time now, yes?"

"Speeches first." He whispered, grinning when his breath on her neck made her moan.

"How much time do you think we have?" She asked, breathless.

"Ten or fifteen minutes?" he mumbled, fascinated by how he could feel her pulse on his lips.

She pulled away. He stared at her as she made her way down the hall. "C'mon!" she grinned as she turned to find him just gazing after her. She held out her hand.

"This one." She giggled, pulling open a door to find a little storage room. Chairs stacked up against one wall, a tea trolley stacked with packs of paper towels in a corner.

"What are we doing?" Arnold was confused… hopeful, but confused.

"Putting your cock in my mouth."

Her simple statement knocked the breath out of him. She wasn't much for 'dirty talk'… so when she came out with a statement like that, it blew him away.

She pulled him inside, closed the door behind them. His mouth searched hers as she backed him up against the wall. She tugged at his shirt, yanking it from where it was tucked into his pants. Her manicured nails raked at his stomach, slid down to undo his tuxedo pants. He shuddered as her hand encircled his already-hard cock.

"Yes?" She asked, her blue eyes sparkling.

"Yes." He gasped, amazed he could speak at all.

She grinned as she dropped to her knees. His hands itched to tangle themselves in her hair as she pulled his pants down, but he knew he couldn't mess up her fancy hair. He swore when she finally wrapped her lips around him, no ceremony, no teasing… just a straightforward, dirty quickie blowjob in a hotel storage room.

She was full of surprises.

Her tongue held him. She sucked at him as she ran him as far into her mouth as she could, then out again. Her fingers searched, ran down to cup his balls, making him jump. His eyes were screwed shut, wanting to saviour the moment a minute before he looked at her. He knew what was coming.

Blow job mouth. Steve hadn't been wrong. Those soft, puffy lips looked amazing around his cock. He didn't have a chance when he looked down at her, his dick being swallowed by her wet, glistening mouth, and her massive blue eyes staring up into his. He always came sooner than he wanted to, watching her like that.

He groaned, knowing they didn't have much time, wanting to keep it going forever. She licked at the bottom of his head, made him jump. He looked down…

Yup, it never failed. He could see her smiling around his cock. He could see her enjoying having his cock in her mouth. Her eyes met his… he repeated those words to himself. My cock's in her mouth.

"Fuck… baby… I'm gonna come…" She just smiled wider at him, nodded a little as her mouth worked at him. Fuck… she was even going to swallow. What the hell did he ever do to deserve her?

He swore as he came, balling his hands into fists at his side, gazing into those mesmerising eyes…

She laughed as she tidied him up. Ripping one of the paper towels out of its pack to dab him dry, tucking his shirt back into his pants, carefully doing up his fly. She giggled when he grabbed her, snuggled into his chest.

"Fuck I love you… Do you have any idea?" he asked, his heart still thumping hard against his ribs.

"I might have an inkling." She teased, pleased with herself.

"Marry me." He breathed, taking himself by surprise.

Her face instantly fell. "Don't." she frowned.

Oops… "No?" He asked, feigning innocence.

"It's not a nice thing to joke about." She sighed, looking at once both peeved and sad.

"OK." He smiled, kissing her nose. "I'm sorry…" she just stared at him. "Am I forgiven?"

She sighed, smiled. "I suppose so. Just watch yourself."

He smiled, barely able to contain himself… "We better be getting back."

…

Arnold was slightly drunk when Gerald and Phoebe got up to have their first dance as man and woman.

He had read his speech (polite, funny, appropriate) eaten his dinner, drunk more than his fair share of champagne… he was nervous. So nervous he though he'd throw up.

He hadn't even been able to talk to Helga, seated at she was next to Phoebe, just out of comfortable talking range.

She came over to sit next to him, perching on the edge of Gerald's empty chair. "We gotta dance, yeah?" She sighed, leaning her head on Arnold's shoulder.

"Yup."

"I'm so full… I'm going to sleep for a week after this… and invest in a mumu."

Arnold giggled. "My little fatty. I may be drunk."

She laughed, stood, and grabbed his arm. "This I gotta see. C'mon, boozey. Lets Dance."

They waltzed out onto the dance floor, laughing, swapping partners. They were both awful, but then, so was everyone else. Except Phoebe's father, surprisingly. He was pretty light on his feet.

He danced with Phoebe, her mother, Gerald's mother, Timberly, Patty, Rhonda and a whole other host of girls. He watched her dance with almost all the men there, laughing and chatting and sparkling, but her eyes always seeking him out, reserving that little couples-only smile for him.

Fuck he loved her.

She fell into his arms when she was finally returned to him. Leaning heavily against his chest. "I am so glad Phoebe chose flats." She sighed sleepily, her cheek against his collar.

They swayed together, the music slower now. There was glitter on the back of her neck. He had no idea where that came from.

I'm, I'm so in love with you
Whatever you want to do
Is alright with me
'Cause you make me feel, so brand new
And I want to spend my life with you

Arnold felt his stomach clench… there was no way he would ever get a more perfect moment than this.

"Marry me." He breathed.

He felt her stiffen, she turned to look at him, her forehead furrowed, confused. "I said not to joke about that."

"I'm not joking." He felt himself smile, despite the nerves in his stomach. He wanted this so badly.

"You're drunk." She accused as her eyes searched his face.

He nodded. "That's true…" His hand left her back and slipped into his jacket pocket, grasped the little leather box. Her eyes widened as he brought it up. "But I was sober when I chose this…"

He stepped back from her, dropped to one knee. He opened the box and held it up, his eyes on hers. Her hands fluttered to her throat, her face went white. He was conscious of the entire room stopping to watch them. He heard Gerald's chuckle.

He knew what she was seeing. An antique, art deco white gold setting, with an asscher cut pink diamond in the middle, surrounded by white diamonds.

"Helga G. Pataki..." He smiled. "My sun-and-stars..." She smiled at that. She's going to say yes!

"… Will you marry me?"

She opened her mouth, closed it again. Nodded.

He grinned. "Yes?" he whispered.

"Yes!" She whispered back.

Yes! Yes yes yes!

He took the ring from the box and pushed it on to her finger. The perfect size. Thank you, Phoebe. His hands were shaking, her hands were shaking.

The room exploded into applause as he stood to gather her in his arms and kiss her.

We're going to get married!