Epilogue

3 MONTHS LATER

Jason

" A re you quite sure?" I asked Alan, reaching over to tug his tie straighter. He looked edible in a slim-cut gray suit, his tie gold and green silk to match the bird on his shoulder.

"Yeah. You? You're the one with the big family that's super into weddings. And the one who said it'd be fun to stage a big gay extravaganza they all had to come to."

"Positive," I told him, brushing a strand of his silky black hair off his forehead. And that was the truth. "Honestly, all I want is to marry you, and my head was about to explode with wedding crap." Ever since we'd told our respective families about the engagement, our mothers had swung into high gear. Traditions in my family and Alan's differed enough that listening to Mom and Mrs. Hiranchai was like watching a high-stakes tennis match, or perhaps invasion preparations. Apparently, our nuptials were so challenging that our respective mothers had informed us it would take many months to put together a plan, and the first possible auspicious date wasn't till after the New Year.

Alan said he didn't mind being hands-off and letting them have their way, but when I asked if he wanted all the traditional crap, he said no. He just wanted peace in the family. I was willing to pay a lot for family harmony, but I saw how, despite his claim of being uninvolved, he grew more stressed every time he talked to his parents. Then the Hiranchais wanted the ceremony on their big property close to their family, appropriate monks and I'm not sure what else. My mom wanted it on Uncle Roger's farm. Outdoors with all that planning left to do meant not till next April or May…

So here we were, outside the Shadecliff courthouse on a lovely July day. It was an auspicious date according to an astrologer and the monk Alan consulted. He said that would comfort his mother at least a little. We'd gone by the Hiranchais' Bellingham nursery yesterday and brought presents for his parents, although we hadn't told them it had anything to do with a wedding. Still, we'd presented little tokens of our esteem and spent an hour drinking tea and letting Alan's mother tell us all her secrets to a happy marriage.

I hoped Alan wouldn't regret missing all the traditions his mother and mine had mulled over in their endless discussions.

But I couldn't be even a little sad to be standing here looking down at Alan's gorgeous face, his dark eyes shining up at me?—

A slap on my shoulder staggered me. "If this is what I think it is, Mom's going to kill you," said my brother Chris.

I grinned at him. "Does that mean you're refusing to be my best man? Afraid of Mom's wrath?"

"Not a chance. I'll tell her I tried to talk you out of it and failed." He tugged the lapel of my charcoal suit. "Looking sharp, bro."

"Thanks."

"Hey, guys." Erin came clicking down the sidewalk toward us in a summery floral dress and high heels. Unlike Chris, we'd trusted her to keep our plans secret. She stopped and extended a foot. "You should feel honored. I don't wear ankle-busters for just anyone."

"I am. Really." Alan's face twisted like he might cry and he reached for her, falling into her hug, while Sunny danced to keep his balance.

"Aw, are we a bit emotional?" I heard Sunny murmur, before he turned and gave Chris a loud bird-like squawk.

Erin wiped a thumb under her eye as she and Alan broke apart. "Shh, Sunny. And Al, don't make me smudge my makeup."

"Sorry. Don't know why it suddenly hit me." Alan took a breath.

"It's not your faults your moms aren't here because they turned into mother-of-the-groomzillas." Erin dug into the big purse she was wearing and pulled out two yellow rosebuds. "Here, a touch of wedding for you." She fixed one into Alan's buttonhole, then came to me. As she pinned the rose in place she said, "Shall we take the hurt-him-and-die speech as understood?"

"Hey." Alan took my arm. "No threatening my fiancé."

"Understood," I told her over his head.

Roxi poked her nose up out of Erin's purse as if to comment, then twitched her whiskers at Chris and ducked back inside.

Erin checked her phone. "Just a few more minutes. You guys ready?"

We're really doing this. A sudden rush of giddiness hit me and my vision sparkled. In a few minutes, in there.

Chris smirked at me. "Breathe."

"Fuck you." I took a deeper breath and steadied. For a lot of years, when I thought about my wedding, I expected I'd never have one. Or, in my nightmares, I dreamed I'd caved to family pressures and married some woman I could never love.

Then I came out at a magic carnival, holding Alan's hand, and navigated the mixed reactions. With Alan at my side, family criticism turned out to matter a hell of a lot less. In the last couple of months, I'd thought about our wedding creating one more step to acceptance for the wider Miller clan, but I realized now, this, today, was better. Not a symbol, not a lesson, not a blending of faiths, no sideways looks, no thinned lips from Mom over who would come or wouldn't, or at some Buddhist tradition that she didn't like.

Today was for Alan and me, and the two people who loved us best. Chris had come a long way from the time he warned me Alan was just a bit, y'know, queer . I'd seen a piece he wrote for a Fire Chiefs' forum where he echoed my words, that he would always regret he didn't make it clear before a moment of crisis that queer firefighters were his brothers and sisters and he'd fight for their rights. I guess you could teach an old dog new tricks.

I thought about saying exactly that now, but refrained out of not wanting my nice suit messed up by his retaliation for being called an old dog. "Should we go in?"

Sunny flapped his wings and muttered in Alan's ear, "Nah. Let's stand around in the sun for a few more hours."

Alan shrugged his shoulder to bounce his familiar. "Let's do this thing."

The courthouse was a simple brick building, but the interior floors shone with wide planks of pale polished wood, and tall narrow windows gave the space some style. A couple of large urns of flowers stood in the corners of the front lobby. To the left, an inactive metal detector guarded the entrance to the court proper, now closed, but to the right, a door stood ajar. At the reception desk, a middle-aged woman looked up as we approached.

"Hiranchai-Miller?"

"Yes," I told her.

"You're a few minutes early, but the party ahead of you has already left. The judge is waiting, if you'd like to go in." She gestured at the half-open door.

"Thank you." I'd never been more certain of any move than this one, but still, it felt momentous to cross the room and open that door fully with Alan at my side.

"I'm surprised you didn't invite your sisters," Erin told me as we entered.

"If I did, there was no good way to stop there. One witness each makes it simple." Sarah and Emily had my back, and I was eternally grateful. I'd have liked sharing this with them. But then there was Kendra, my niece, and Tiffany, who'd driven our engine to more than one hairy fire, glorious in her skills and her sharp tongue, and my mother's hurt at being excluded from a selection of witnesses would be intense. Chris, my brother both in blood, and in smoke and flames and a hundred firegrounds, knew me best. "Chris can tell them all it was boring and over quickly."

"Be nice to me and I will," Chris grinned.

The judge looked up from a desk in the corner. "Welcome. Come on over and let's get your wedding started. License and IDs?"

Erin dug the folder with the wedding license out of her purse and passed it to Alan. He set the paper on the judge's desk and we pulled out our IDs for her to check.

She nodded. "Looks good. Any changes from what you sent me last week?"

I glanced at Alan. He seemed more serious than usual, but his gaze was steady as he met my eyes. He shook his head.

"No, Your Honor," I replied.

She gestured at Sunny on Alan's shoulder. "That bird will behave?"

Alan's lips twitched, some kind of quip clearly wanting to emerge, so I quickly said, "Yes, Your Honor."

"All right. Come stand over here. These windows give a nice mellow afternoon light." She glanced at Erin and Chris. "As a reminder, you may take pictures in here, but not inside the rest of the building."

"Got it." Chris had his phone out. I crossed my eyes at him fast, and sobered before he had time to take the shot. He flashed me the bird below the cover of his elbow. I knew he'd take at least one shot to embarrass me, but I also knew he'd capture this day that I wanted to remember forever as best he could.

The judge positioned Alan and me on either side of her, a display of flowers at her back, and the sun streamed in the window to strike highlights on Alan's silky black hair and turn Sunny's colors brilliant. "Face each other."

I turned to look at Alan, and everything else fell away— Chris with his phone out, the flowers, the judge, Erin and the tip of Roxi's nose at the corner of her purse, and Sunny. No one else mattered. I reached out with both hands and Alan's slim fingers closed over mine.

"You elected to say your own vows," the judge reminded us. "In this place, and with these witnesses, now is the time to speak those words."

My mind went blank. I'd written out a dozen variations and then ripped them up, sure I'd come up with something on the spur of the moment. I licked my lips and raised my eyebrow at Alan helplessly.

He'd been supposed to go second, but a soft smile curved his gorgeous mouth. "Jason Miller. On paper, we don't go together at all. And yet, the first time I saw you, I began to have hopes I didn't even admit to myself."

Sunny on his shoulder coughed and muttered below his breath, "Hot firefighter. Good with his hose." He added a parroty, "Braaaak," for the judge's sake and bobbed his head.

Color rose in Alan's cheeks, but he forged on. "It took us a while to get together, but when we did, it was the beginning of something truly incredible."

"Very good with his hose," Sunny whispered. "Braaaaak."

Alan shrugged hard, bouncing his unapologetic familiar, but he was also grinning, his eyes bright. "We've had mistakes and adventures, wins and losses." For a moment, his eyes clouded. I raised one of his hands to kiss his knuckles, and Sunny rubbed his head on Alan's cheek. Alan bit his lip, then continued. "Through it all, we became stronger together than either of us is apart. So now, as we stand together in quiet sunshine, with no looming disasters for once, will you take me as your lawfully wedded husband, and walk into the future side by side, and put up with my noisy, nosy bird and my love of musicals and my passion for donuts and my eccentric friends?—"

"Yes," I said. "I will."

"I wasn't done." His eyes danced.

"Doesn't matter. I will. I take you with your kind heart and inquiring mind and your love for your students and your skill with growing things, with every large and small part of you?—"

Sunny coughed, "It's not that small."

Alan shrugged hard again and Sunny crowed, digging his claws into that sharp gray suit.

Love threatened to drown me. I squeezed Alan's hands. "And with your not-as-funny-as-he-thinks bird. Yes. Will you marry me, with my crazy hours and my less-than-tidy job and my love of running early in the morning and my noisy, nosy family?"

Alan squeezed back. "Yes, absolutely. I will."

I turned to the judge. "I think that covers it."

"Rings?" she asked.

We both let go to fumble in our pockets.

Zahira had crafted the rings for us. She was living back at her studio outside L.A., and Erin was back working at the local clinic here. They both pretended they were just casual friends, but it didn't take a sorcerer to see the sparks between them when Zahira visited to deliver the rings.

I eased Alan's out of my breast pocket. The lovely gold circle sat on my palm, its outer shape an intricate flow of curves, its flat inner surface inscribed with Alan's name and mine in a calligraphy script. Zahira swore there was no magic in the rings, though there was in their crafting, and Alan agreed, but the metal felt warm against my skin.

Alan held out his hand. I lifted the ring and aimed it at his fourth finger. There was no reason for my hand to shake, but the ring I held trembled against his fingertip.

"Braaak, don't drop it." Sunny bobbed his head and opened his beak.

Glaring at the damned bird steadied me, and I slipped the ring onto Alan's hand, guiding it to the base of his finger. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Alan took my left hand in turn and slid the matching band down my finger. "With this ring, I thee wed."

His words, his gaze, and that golden circle as it slipped into place echoed inside me, the reflection of a hundred low-key nightmares turned to pure gold because it was Alan Hiranchai here with me— Alan's hand holding mine, Alan's name written against my skin, Alan's life joining with mine.

Jason, the high school kid alone in his room; Jason, the probie focused on fighting fires so he wouldn't think about anything else; Jason, the man orbiting the outskirts of his siblings' families, had never dared imagine there'd be someone like Alan for him.

"How did I get so damned lucky?" I murmured, my eyes on Alan's.

"You could thank me," Sunny suggested under his breath and preened his chest feathers.

Alan stood on his toes and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

The judge chuckled. "As I was about to say, by the power vested in me by the state of Washington, I now pronounce you legally married. Now you may kiss. Again."

I slid a hand behind Alan's head, his hair slipping like silk thought my fingers, bent, and kissed my husband. Properly. Enthusiastically.

Deeply enough that Sunny hopped over to the stand of flowers and tilted his head. "Nine, nine, nine-point-five." He cackled as we broke apart.

"That's an interesting bird," the judge said.

"Sun conure," Alan told her. "They're very vocal. Excellent mimics. And he's housebroken."

Sunny blew a raspberry and leaped back to Alan's shoulder.

"Come on, then," the judge said. "Let's get your license signed and witnessed."

We'd debated a hyphenated name but decided to have mercy on Alan's nine-year-old students. Hiranchai was long enough. My mother would have a fit, no doubt, but maybe his would be pleased. I liked hearing Chris choke as he realized what I was doing. "Jason Hiranchai. Has a ring to it, right?" I suggested.

"You get to do all the fucking name-change paperwork," he told me, but he signed on the witness line with a flourish.

Erin added her neat signature and straightened, turning to Alan. "Congratulations." She looked misty-eyed as she hugged him. When it was my turn, she murmured into my ear, "Thanks for loving him."

"Easiest thing I've ever done."

Chris shook both our hands, and then the judge ushered us all out into the lobby. "I'll be submitting the certificate for registration, and you should get your official copies in one to two weeks. Follow up if you don't receive a copy by the end of the month. And congratulations, gentlemen." She stepped back and closed her door.

We stood at the end of the room in the stripes of sunshine falling through the tall windows. "Hey," Chris said, pulling out his phone and scrolling. "Got a good picture of the two of you sucking face." He turned the screen to me and Alan leaned close to see. I expected something awkward, caught at just the wrong moment. Instead, there was Alan in the foreground, softly pressing his lips to mine while everything I'd been feeling showed in my face. The image was almost too personal and yet… I'll never forget that. I cleared my throat. "Send me a copy, okay?"

Chris clapped me on the arm. "I'll send you all I got—" His phone went off in his hand and he swiped screens, then grimaced. "Crap, gotta go. You're on leave for three days, you lucky bastard. Congrats and bye, Alan. Erin." He sprinted across the room and out the doors.

Alan linked his arm through mine. "I'm glad you get time off."

"Me too." Even if a nagging sense of responsibility made me want to find a scanner and see how bad the fire was. I stomped that temptation down. A man was entitled to relax on his wedding day.

Sunny said, "Me three."

Erin glanced around at the now-empty reception desk, then said, "What was with you and the judge, Sunny? And with Chris? Cutting it close. You're lucky they thought you were just a good mimic."

"One of my favorite things about this form. Speech is not unreasonable." He rotated his neck. "So, I've been thinking about how best to commemorate this day. What would be nostalgic and romantic, and still a little amusing? And it occurred to me, this whole relationship began with a false fire alarm. I think I still remember how that goes." He opened his beak.

I dug into my pocket, grabbed one of the pieces of dried mango I'd put there, and stuffed the fruit in his beak. "No. No fire alarms. Bad bird."

Sunny's eyes twinkled as he chewed on the treat.

Roxi spoke up from Erin's purse, "What's a fire alarm?"

"Uh-uh." Erin headed for the doors. "Don't ask him that."

Alan and I followed her outside, our hands clasped together. On the front walk, Erin pivoted and took our picture. I figured I'd have a pretty sappy smile on my face in that one.

When we reached the sidewalk, Erin said, "Come on, Sunny. Let's go find Dale and show them the pictures. Enjoy your honeymoon, guys."

"You sure you don't want me along camping?" Sunny asked Alan. "What if you encounter a dangerous bear?"

"Or a threatening piece of fruit?" Alan asked. "I'm positive. That tent is not big enough for three."

"Well, don't do anything I wouldn't tease you about," Sunny told him. "And you know where to find me if you need me."

"I do." Alan held a finger to his shoulder and when Sunny stepped onto it, held him up to look him in the eye. "I owe you everything. Meeting Jason, guiding my magic, saving my life…"

"And the picture-perfect crap on Poe's head?" Sunny cackled.

Alan grinned. "That too. Thank you."

Sunny pecked his finger lightly. "What else are familiars for? Go have fun, and come back prepared to work. I have an idea about that water-sparing grass spell you were working on."

I told Sunny, "The thanks go for me too. If you hadn't been such a good fire alarm mimic, I'd still be a miserable closeted bastard and Alan might be dead. So thank you."

Sunny bobbed his head. "Don't make me regret it." Taking flight from Alan's finger, he landed on Erin's shoulder.

As they turned toward her car, I heard Roxi say, "Will you tell me about the fire alarm now?"

Alan called after them, "Don't let my familiar corrupt your familiar."

Erin waved over her shoulder but didn't look back.

They got in the car, pulled away, and I hugged Alan against me, brushing his lips with mine. "Alone at last. Whatever shall we do now?"

"Well, I'm not going camping in this good suit," Alan said, ducking away. "Let's go home, get changed, and then head out."

"Maybe with a brief detour into the bedroom after ‘get changed?' Or halfway through?" I asked.

"I might be persuaded to detour, with the right incentive."

"Like this?" I kissed him.

"More incentive." Alan pulled me down into a scorching kiss. "Yeah. That. Detour added to the schedule."

I took Alan's hand, and couldn't help pausing to look at the new ring on his finger. "With Chris busy fighting a fire, we have more time before my mother finds out what we've done. I want to be fucked by my husband in our own bed."

"You think he'll spill the beans to your mother?"

"Since I didn't make him promise not to, I figure we have about twenty minutes longer than this call he's out on lasts." I grinned. "One more reason for the camping honeymoon. Mom can't give me a hard time if she doesn't know where we've gone."

"I hope your mom and mine have fun planning the afterparty instead of a wedding," Alan said. "With luck, that'll take the clash of customs and expectations out of it. They can do a blowout of food and family and fun."

"Got to be less stressful, right?" I agreed. "Once they get over missing the wedding."

"I hope." Alan shrugged. "We can worry about it later. As of now, I'm on my honeymoon with not a care in the world."

"We'll take the burner phone camping," I said. "Erin and Chris have that number, if someone really needs us. Leave the rest of the world behind. Just you and me for three magical days."

"Smart man. I like the sound of that." Alan gazed up at me.

I planned to spend my life being worthy of the love I saw in his eyes. "Come on, husband of mine, the clock's ticking. Let's go home."

Sunny

Times have changed since I ended up on Earth. For the better. I peered back from Erin's shoulder as she pulled away from the curb. That sorcerer of mine was locking lips with his husband again. They might as well go on a honeymoon. He was going to be useless outside of bed for at least three days.

I hopped over and perched on the dashboard as Erin drove us to her place. I could've stayed in the house while my men were gone, of course. But opening a refrigerator takes more leverage than I have and I've never quite liked jumping inside one. Plus, I prefer company. Sharing my wit and knowledge, so to speak.

Dale came out to meet us as we pulled up in Erin's drive. "Did it go okay? Are they happy?"

"Delirious," I told them. "Sappy. Besotted. I bet we'll only have to look for the spot with three-hundred-foot-tall pine trees to figure out where they fuck in the woods for the first time."

Erin smirked, but Dale turned a little pink. Kid was still more innocent than was good for them. I had hopes there was enough gumption in that limp dishrag Kevin to fix that problem. If so, I might admit the unicorn saw that young man more clearly than I did.

Roxi popped into view from Erin's purse. "Are we home? I want some mealworms."

I faked a gag. "And I thought Coal's tastes in food were unappealing."

She tilted her pointy head. "I could crunch a few bugs instead."

Honestly, sun conures ate bugs when we wanted to, and I was just giving Roxi a hard time. "Eat what you like. It's no skin off my beak."

I fluttered to Dale's shoulder, and they said in an undertone as we headed into the house, "Mission accomplished."

"Well done, young padawan. You are learning the ways of the farce."

"Force?"

"Not this time." I dropped my beak open and chuckled. I'd been saving my shed feathers for three months for this moment, ever since we found out a wedding, and a wedding night, were coming. The camping trip provided the perfect opportunity.

Jason, Boy Scout that he was, had a little case with lube and wipes and a small plug that he'd stowed away in the backpack for their camping wedding night. Or, judging by the looks on their faces as we drove off, their wedding afternoon at the first available campsite. I'd hauled the case off to the spare closet, pulled everything out, and stuffed it full of my feathers. And I mean, full . I'd forcefully beak-stuffed extra feathers into the case with some jump energy behind them, until the sides bulged and the zipper strained at the seams as I closed the last half inch.

Then I'd secretly snuck Dale in through the house wards as we were getting ready to head to the wedding. They'd promised to put the whole thing neatly back in the pack where Jason had stowed it, because while dragging things out with beak and claws was doable, replacing them wasn't that easy. Human hands were sometimes necessary to my plans.

I imagined my guys' cozy little tent. A setting sun, or perhaps a small lantern glowing in the corner. Alan looking at Jason like he hung the moon, and Jason making cow eyes right back. Jason says, "Let me get the lube." He grabs the case. Tugs open the zipper.

Poof! Feathers explode everywhere.

I imagined two pairs of big round eyes, and then both my men collapsing in a fit of giggles. Jason puffing a breath across Alan's nose to lift off a feather and then kissing him there. Alan wiping my fluffy down out of Jason's hair.

Wouldn't do to have the two of them forget me, or get too big for their boots.

I'd told Dale to pack the lube and wipes in a side pocket, of course. I'm not a monster.

After the feathery explosion is cleared, I'm sure they'll go back to kissing. Use the lube in ways I don't need to think about. Those two were building a life, solid and strong and made to last. Even better than I imagined the first time I saw Alan look at Jason with wistfulness in his eyes.

Dale said, "They're really married and they'll be happy, right?"

"Right." As long as I have anything to do with it, and I will.

Alan and Jason would come home and dive into teaching and firefighting. They'd squabble over the best hockey team and socks on the floor and early morning jogging, and not mean a word of it. They'd create a good life together, maybe even adopt some little ones someday. And if they ever got bored and restless, I'd be there to liven things up.

I landed on the kitchen counter, the surface still scorched from an encounter with a firedrake, and turned to Roxi. The youngster sat on her hind legs, eating a bit of dried mealworm from the open container Erin kept out for her. I settled in front of her and looked her up and down, mimicking my stern old human-behavior-theory instructor at the Institute.

"Now," I said, "we have three days together, young Voyager. I have much wisdom to impart."

Erin snorted behind me and I cocked a wing. Sadly, flipping someone the bird required human fingers, an unfair misnomer. Ignoring her, I continued to Roxi, "You've learned a lot since you partnered with Erin three months ago?—"

"Like healing spells and how they work!" Roxi wiggled her nose, holding another morsel in one front paw. "So wonderful. I never expected to be partnered with a Healer, let alone to be able to help her draw her power more smoothly."

"Ahem. Yes, of course. But being a familiar is not just about facilitating our sorcerers in their spells. We're here to help balance their lives, to keep their brains from stagnating, and make sure they're on their toes." I leaned closer to the little shrew. "Listen, young Voyager with a mimicry talent, while I tell you a story of the sounds and functions of human fire alarms, and all the ways in which they can be useful…"

##### The End #####