Epilogue

"Did they already leave?" A distinguished blonde woman asked, fidgeting with her pink satin dress straps and looking around the spacious backyard in wonder.

"No way, calm down, Mae. She's just getting changed, and he's helping set everything up. You would think he'd give it a rest on his own wedding day, though," another woman replied tersely, tightening the fastening of her tennis bracelet and closing her eyes to bring some serenity to her beautiful face that had been lined with stress.

"Even in his suit? It's a rental, so it wouldn't be good to ruin it."

"You know how he is. He'd get mugged and be the one to apologize."

"Don't joke about that, Anne, it might actually happen." Maelys gasped, bringing her elegant hands up to her mouth and looking at her companion worriedly.

"Hey, Anne, mind lending me some muscle over here?" A blond man in a navy blue suit called to the dark brunette just as she was about to respond, struggling along with a rectangular box labeled as 'large canopy' at the garden gate. Anne rolled her eyes at the familiar voice, while Maelys beamed when she looked over.

"Ah, Alfred, there you are! I didn't see you after the ceremony, so I started to worry. Anne and I will be right over," Maelys greeted warmly. She was about to make her way toward him when Anne stuck out an arm to stop her.

"I'll do it. You've had a busy week and need to sit down for a second. Besides, you're wearing high heels," the younger woman muttered, offering the new paralegal a soft smile before going and hefting up the unoccupied end of the box with a bit of a struggle in her own pair of heels.

"I thought you were supposed to be super strong?" Anne gritted, all too happy to let her end drop when her and Alfred reached the intended destination.

"I am," Alfred breathed, wiping at his forehead with the end of his tie, a habit he had been scolded a million times for that day alone, "I just didn't want to ruin Arthur's lawn." Anne's expression conveyed disbelief, and Alfred laughed sheepishly before making an escape to the front of the house.

He approached the opened trunk of a car parked along the sidewalk that a man was leaning into and obnoxiously humming so that the noise echoed in the small space.

"Need any help?" Alfred offered cheerily, kicking lightly at the heels of the shiny dress shoes before him.

Francis straightened up briskly, arms full with saran wrapped containers and a thin box covered in silver gift wrap folded under his arm.

A stack of glass dishware filled with food was immediately shoved into Alfred's waiting arms, the Frenchman taking a moment to adjust the loose bun he had been talked into wearing his hair in and turning toward the backyard with Alfred falling in step beside him.

"You look nice today," Alfred commented, noting how Francis kept rubbing at his bare chin. The older man had gone back and forth the whole morning on whether to shave or not, and had settled on going smooth-faced just an hour before they were due at the chapel.

"You always say that," Francis said off handedly, spying the table for the wedding gifts and setting down their joint present.

"I always mean it," Alfred responded, leaning over the Frenchman's shoulder and observing the modest pile of gifts. Matt was probably going to faint at the sight, even if it was just a couple of small things. His twin had spent a good deal of time impressing upon his family not to get him anything or else he'd flay them, desperate to keep things as casual and unpretentious as possible. Naturally they all went out and got him and his now-wife gifts the first chance they had.

"I think he'll like it." Alfred threw an arm around Francis' shoulder, the older man leaning into the embrace before nudging Alfred's chin with the side of his head.

"Well, he won't complain. Now go stop him from trying to cart in all those tables before he hurts himself. Really, the moment he feels better he immediately wears himself out," Francis muttered, reluctantly slipping out of Alfred's hold and heading toward Maelys when he spied her wrestling a folding chair open. Alfred watched him go with a goofy grin, shrugging and going back to the front of the house to hunt his brother down.

By the time everything was settled, the sky had grown dark in the usual summer way where it was perfectly easy to see everything even without the aid of the freshly turned on porch lights. Insects buzzed lazily off in the distance, and the sharp smell of grass started to permeate the air even more strongly as the heat of the day ebbed away and the guests started to head out when the newlyweds went home after Matt over exerted himself dancing, of all things.

Alfred stumbled out through the storm door with loud, happy shouts of lingering guests following him as he weaved his way through the disorganized array of card tables with empty dishes still sitting on them from the reception dinner. He passed by a clump of the property that was damp and sheltered by a pile of excess brick that had never been removed, spotting the pale leaves of flowers in the gloomy light. Seized by a sudden whim, Alfred picked a good handful of the weedy plants before spying the two individuals he had been looking for sitting at a round table toward the back fence.

He strode over just in time to hear Arthur and Francis in the middle of the type of conversation where Francis was gloating with the sole purpose to irritate Arthur and the Englishman half willingly took the bait.

"…Flying out here wasn't any trouble at all. The perks of being one's own boss," Francis boasted with a satisfied smile and a mute toast to Alfred when he saw him approach before finishing off his glass of wine and pouring another with the bottle sitting on the table close at hand. Alfred wondered how he managed to secure a whole bottle, but kept his thoughts to himself as he settled into an empty chair next to his partner and started organizing the flowers he picked.

"Like I want to hear that sort of thing from you," Arthur groused, face scrunching before he remembered himself and played his reaction off as an almost sneeze.

"Oh, Arthur, be nice. It's not my fault I'm ridiculously rich." Francis leaned forward tipsily, but keeping the rest of his body under enough control that Alfred couldn't tell if he was at his drinking limit yet.

"I suppose those stupid books of yours write themselves? And you're not that well off." Arthur's face looked lined under the harsh light emanating from the porch when coupled with the dour line he held his lips in.

"Oho, with Alfred's income combined with mine, I am." Francis patted Alfred's shoulder heavily, and Alfred tried not to wince at the unexpected contact.

"It's all a conspiracy," Arthur darkly muttered at the stars blinking awake in the night sky.

"I'll be sure to mail you a bottle of my best wine as congratulations for the new additions to the family."

"Keep your flavored water to yourself," Arthur barked, taking a deep gulp of scotch from a stout glass. Alfred wondered where he too found his drink, considering Arthur claimed to have given up on drinking all together after Matthew graduated college. Then again, Alfred supposed it was easier to get Matt off Arthur's case when they no longer lived in the same house.

"Don't be stubborn, I know you like wine," Francis accused a little louder than necessary.

"Speaking of drinking, did someone slip Matt something to calm him down? He actually asked for romance tips before I kicked him out of the house, the poor bastard," Alfred cut in with forced merriment after his amusement with their argument dissolved.

"Why did he ask you and not me?" Francis and Arthur demanded in unison.

"Wow. That was creepy," Alfred said after a laugh died in his throat.

"Why did he not come to big brother? I would have given lots of advice." Francis' eyes were wide and he even went the extra mile of biting down on his napkin to illustrate how 'upset' he was. Alfred decided that he had had too much wine, after all.

"He'd only go to you if he wanted to be a deviant. I'm practically his father. He should have come to me!" Arthur thumped his chest and pounded his glass on the table disruptively.

"I told him Kat would probably like anything," Alfred wedged himself back in before a fight could break out, "Not like I would've had much to say about that kind of stuff anyway."

"Ah! Cher, quit breaking my heart. You could have told him something." Francis smiled coyly at Alfred and waggled his eyebrows. Alfred noted that his glass of wine was drained again, and started thinking of ways divert from the new topic with Arthur present.

"He'd only ask you if he thought the girl wanted a pansy," Arthur burst in excitedly, cheeks rosy but he wasn't slurring his words yet. "Gals like it when you're a proper man in the bedroom. Act like a gentleman in the rest of the house, but as soon as you hit that mattress…." Arthur trailed off his sentence suggestively, smiling lopsidedly and sweeping his arms at nothing in particular. Alfred thought he was going to drop dead on the spot. He said 'romance' not 'sex,' so what the hell were these two idiots talking about all of a sudden?

"What about that brother of hers? He smiles all the time and it's creepy, not friendly." Alfred desperately interrupted, Arthur too far gone to really notice the unsubtle diversion.

"Well, get over it. You're family now," Arthur told him smoothly, knocking back another class of scotch, and Alfred noticed that he had managed to hoard a whole bottle to himself like Francis, except better hidden on the chair next to him instead of out in the open.

"You're family too, Mr. I'm-practically-his-father," Alfred jabbed back mockingly.

"Hmmmm, shouldn't you be taking pictures or something, Mr. Fancy-artist-photographer?" Arthur's question seemed to be genuine if his squinting was anything to go by.

"I'm not a photographer, and I certainly wouldn't do it for a wedding," Alfred stated bluntly, shaking his head. One gallery showing and suddenly he was an 'artist.' He definitely still loved doing photography for himself and the art of it, but he had become unexpectedly happy with his involvement in advertising and had every intention of staying there. Not that he would ever admit to that, even on his death bed, lest Gilbert ever managed to find out. He was already unbearably gloating about the fact that Alfred got a good job right after working under him.

"That's not what I- oh, there's that Cuban fellow over there. Hello," Arthur toddled off before Alfred decided that letting a tipsy new father-in-law wander aimlessly was probably a bad idea.

"How you doing over there?" Alfred asked Francis, staring down at the glass he was holding after he spotted Arthur being herded off to the living room to lay down by a clucking Maelys and a grumpy Anne, who was glaring daggers at her boss.

"Oh fine, a little heady from all the drinking and sitting down, but I'm nowhere near Arthur's level yet," Francis answered in good humor, pinning Alfred with a look filled with a surprising amount of sobriety.

"I'll take your word for it," Alfred muttered, fiddling with a waxy stem as he tied two flower ends together now that he was no longer distracted.

"I see Mr. Honda couldn't make it," Francis commented, taking advantage of the alone time he and Alfred had suddenly lucked into after being nothing but busy or asleep the past week.

"Not for lack of trying, but July's a busy month at the hospital so he's been pretty much on call twenty four-seven the past few weeks."

"Ah, that's a shame. I miss him."

"You miss teasing him," Alfred corrected.

"That's what I said."

Alfred beamed, turning his attention back down to his lap of plant life and silently working for an indiscernible amount of time as the night stretched on and crickets started chirping.

"Dare I ask what you've been doing over there this whole time?" Francis finally inquired, playing with his empty glass and no longer having interest in his wine bottle after Arthur lost their undeclared drinking contest.

"Just one more…There," Alfred responded brightly, dabbing his tongue out for a moment as he fiddled with something in his lap before turning on Francis with an expression of childish satisfaction.

Doubting Alfred's mind was anywhere near the gutter his was in that moment, Francis indulgently held a hand forward when Alfred gestured for him to do so. A frail bracelet of star shaped flowers of a pale blue color that he recognized as phlox was deftly hung on his wrist.

"You didn't steal this off the bouquet did you?" Francis teased with a smile, gently stroking a silky smooth petal and basking in the warmth of the night and Alfred's gaze.

"Found them growing along the fence along the side, and they reminded me of you," Alfred answered, leaning forward on his arm and staring at Francis' new accessory.

Francis doubted Alfred was familiar with the language of flowers, no matter how much he tried to get Alfred to share his botany interests beyond pretty pictures, but he still couldn't help the secretive smirk at the choice of flowers the younger man happened to make.

"It's amazing where things can grow." Alfred went on after a silent moment, sleepily meeting Francis' eye and grinning distantly as his food and champagne filled stomach made his mind sluggish.

Francis nodded contently, starting to perk up under the lazy blue gaze. "I agree."

A/N: Oh, man the end. This was difficult to do, and I'm sorry if it's underwhelming. This story started out as a series of one-shot-slice-of-life kinda things, and it evolved into what it is now (Which I'm actually satisfied with how things turned out). Unfortunately, recently I've ended up working twelve hour days and six day weeks and now school's started back up, so things couldn't go exactly how I wanted and I decided to wrap things up while I had the chance.

I greatly appreciate anyone and everyone who has read this. I don't think I can ever properly convey my gratitude for this story being given the time of day, and I hope it was half as much fun to read as it was to write. I look forward to doing this again in the future. =)