Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing them.

Author's Notes: Response to the "Marriage" challenge on ds_flashfiction, completed during Amnesty 2003. Many thanks to heuradys for hand-holding and speed-beta!

Story Notes: Post-Odds.

Frannie raced past the makeshift altar in the Vecchios' back yard, trailing multicolored streamers and a steadily unwinding bolt of white tulle.

"ANTE! Ante, no!" The bride looked up guiltily from the holes she was digging in the vegetable patch and took off in a shower of dirt and roots.

Fraser and Ray stood frozen at the corner of the house and watched the chaos in silent incredulity.

Diefenbaker bounded up to them. Fraser stooped to ruffle his fur, noting the black and white collar-and-tie combo around Dief's neck. He regarded Dief soberly for a moment, then offered, "I can certainly speak to Francesca for you, if all this is more than you'd anticipated when you agreed --" Then, "Oh. I see. Yes, it is rather impressive. Do carry on."

Dief pressed up against Fraser's legs for a moment, whuffled excitedly in Ray's general direction, and bounded off again. The wrapped package in Ray's hand threatened to succumb to gravity's pull at any moment.

"Fraser!" Ray whispered. "You didn't tell me that Dief was happy about this! I thought he was just humoring Frannie and trying to get into Ante's...uh, doghouse."

"I don't know, Ray. He ran by so quickly I couldn't decipher everything he said. Something about a gopher and traditional canine wedding feasts.... At any rate, it's not what I would have expected, but Diefenbaker is a mature wolf. I have to assume he knows what he's doing."

Fraser ran his finger underneath the collar of his borrowed shirt, slightly uncomfortable wearing Huey's tuxedo again. He would have worn the red serge as a matter of course for attending a ceremonial occasion, but Francesca had been most insistent.

Ray noticed his mild discomfort and said, "Stop fidgeting, Frase. You look good. You look, uh, sharp."

Fraser noticed that Ray looked entirely at home in his nicely-tailored suit, and wondered if he'd had occasion to wear that outfit since his divorce. He considered returning the compliment, but wasn't certain of the etiquette involved, especially in public. Ray seemed a little embarrassed by his own admission.

He was spared the decision when a frazzled-looking Francesca came careening to a halt in front of them.

"Hi, guys! You look fantastic! The gift table's in back," she informed them, indicating the present still clutched precariously in Ray's loose grip. "Have you seen the Lieu? He's supposed to be here already but he's not here yet and we can't start without him. He never showed me what he was going to say, anyway."

"You convinced Welsh to officiate?" Ray asked incredulously.

"Don't be like that, Ray," she scolded. "We wanted this to be a proper ceremony." She turned to Fraser and asked, "Is this, you know, legal?"

"Well, it's not against the law, but the United States government isn't going to give it any credence, either." Francesca looked slightly disappointed, but moved off to avert an impending catastrophe at the punchbowl before he had the chance to elaborate.

"Sucks to be a dog," Ray muttered dejectedly.

Fraser was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to have heard that, but he couldn't pretend that he hadn't. He moved up behind his partner, clapping his shoulder in such a way that a slight tug encouraged Ray to tilt his head subtly closer. "I believe that Diefenbaker is content with the recognition of his friends and family. And although Canada has taken a more enlightened approach to marriage in general, they too refuse to acknowledge canine unions."

Ray got a determined look in his eyes and grabbed Fraser's elbow. Instead of continuing forward into the celebratory throng, though, he drew Fraser back around the side of the house and pushed him into the space between the small tool shed and a gaily decorated wheelbarrow.

The shadow from the tool shed cast them into an intimate dimness and blocked them from the general view. Ray still maintained a strong grip on his arm, and his other hand came up to rest on his chest, over his heart. Fraser's pulse picked up and started thumping wildly. Even after these last few weeks, he was still unaccustomed to such intense closeness.

"I'm a mature wolf for my age, Benton," Ray said, somewhat nonsensically. "And I know what I want."

Ray leaned towards him, and Fraser met him for the kiss halfway. Slick lips and nibbling teeth and wicked tongues occupied them both for a long moment. Realizing he was at risk of forgetting himself entirely, Fraser pulled back and rested his forehead against Ray's, willing himself to relax.

"So, " Ray asked a little breathlessly, once they parted, "About the 'friends and family' thing. Do you ... uh, do you mind if we tell them?"

Fraser stilled. Slowly, he looked up and asked, "Is that wise?"

Ray scratched his scalp distractedly and said, "Honestly? At this point, I don't care. Besides, everyone here is at a dog wedding. I think they're pretty open-minded."

Feeling like his jaw might crack from the snowfield-sized smile that crossed his face, Fraser intertwined his fingers with Ray's.

"I think a little judicious hinting might not be amiss," he allowed, and tugged Ray back towards the party.

End Weddings Are For The Dogs by lynnmonster: lynnmonster@lycos.com

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