Chapter Text
Pat hummed the wedding march under his breath and he straightened his bowtie.
Alison was sitting behind him, being fussed over by the other girls. Kitty had a tight grip on her hand and a blinding grin, Mary meanwhile stood off to the side, gazing at nothing, and Stephanie stood behind the bridge. Using the ribbon usually worn across Alison’s forehead, she tied her hair into a delicate plait, the closest thing to an outfit change they could do. Stephanie ended it with a bow and stepped back, running a critical eye over her work. Then she nodded sharply.
“There. I have no clue how long it will hold, but it’s done.”
Kitty leaned back and giggled. “Oh, it’s beautiful!”
“Thank you, Stephanie,” Alison said. She breathed in deeply, free hand shaking ever so slightly.
“You’re going to be the prettiest bride there’s ever been,” Kitty assured her. “You’re so lucky.”
That got a smile out of Alison, and she spoke in one quick breath. “Yeah, I am.”
Kitty twirled one of her free curls and looked back at Mary, fluttering her eyes. “Have you ever thought of getting married, Mary?”
Subtlety was not Kitty’s strong suit.
“No. Me husband accused me of witchcraft.”
Everyone in the room froze.
Well. That was…that…Pat pressed his lips tightly together.
Thankfully, the silence didn’t last too long. Kitty cleared her throat, dropping Alison’s hand for Mary’s. “Good thing I don’t ever want to get married then! Being the maid of honour is enough for me, I think.”
Mary’s gaze focused, and she smiled softly as Kitty kissed her cheek. “Ah, but you dos make a lovely maid indeed.”
“Oh, you,” Kitty giggled.
Pat breathed a sigh of relief.
One drama down, God only knows how many more to go. He wanted to have faith that nothing would go wrong, but he was an optimist, not an idiot.
He straightened the lapels of his suit and gave himself a look over.
It’d only been four years since his wedding, but already the face staring back at him seemed completely different. Laugh lines and wrinkles had crept upon him as the years stretched on, and he’d returned to his (possibly questionable) uni hairstyle –dyed mousy brown, and almost long enough to be classified as a mullet. Not yet though, he had at least another two months to go before that.
Then, of course, was the ring on his finger. That sure hadn’t been there before, and he sent it a soft grin.
It was almost nice to go through all this again, he mused. He’d been a nervous wreck in the build-up to the ceremony before, but now, all he could feel was excitement.
A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts, and Ted peeked his head in.
“The groom shouldn’t see the, er, other groom,” Stephanie sniffed, “it’s bad luck.”
“We’re already married,” Pat argued. “It’s too late for luck. Come in, love.”
He did so, and Patrick let out a long whistle. Blimey, did Ted look a treat in white. The suit was slim fitted, practically moulded to his body, with a soft blue tie and a carnation tucked into the pocket. Even his cane had been dolled out, a white ribbon messily tied around it (courtesy of Daley).
Ted gave him an equally appraising glance and perched on the edge of the vanity.
“Looking sharp, Patrick.”
“Right back at ‘cha, mister,” Pat winked. “How’s it looking out there?”
“On the living side, wonderful…as long as you ignore Claire and Sam with their cameras asking Julian to try and push over the hors d'oeuvres.”
“Any of the good ones?”
“No, just the olives.”
“Well, that’s alright then.” He straightened Ted’s tie, then used it to pull him into a quick kiss.
Kitty wolf-whistled and he broke the kiss to yell out “oh, naff off.”
She just laughed and just grinned. Honestly, she was spending too much time with Julian, Pat tutted.
Ted pulled away a moment later, gazing down fondly. “Now, Patrick, don’t be rude to the guests.”
“The guests deserve it,” he huffed. “The bride especially.”
Alison laughed, slightly hysterical, and Ted shot him an affronted look.
“You are awful.”
Pat just grinned.
His husband rolled his eyes before raising his gaze to the air above Pat’s head. “I can’t see you Alison, but all the same I feel obligated to tell you that you look lovely.”
She smiled at that, shoulders looser than before. “Thanks, Cap. You look great too.”
Pat translated for her, pleased to note her hair was still in that braid. He doubted it would last the entire day, but if it stayed in place until the ceremony at least…
The door opened, and Gabrielle stepped in.
She wasn’t dressed in white – Pat had fought and lost that fight miserably – but she still looked tidy in her turtleneck and long skirt. It was all black, more fitting for a funeral than anything else, but in a way, it worked.
“The priest just arrived.”
Alison straightened up, turning a little pale.
“Alright.” Pat turned to Ted. “Off you trot. I’m walking down the aisle this time.”
“Are you now?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips.
“Thought we might as well spice it up. Now shoo.”
Gabrielle held her arm out, and Ted tried to suppress his grin as he took it.
“You’re not planning to trip me on the way there, are you?” he teased.
She scowled. “Bring that up again, and I just might.”
Ted snickered as she led him out of the room. Pat would have told him off for it, but well, it was a bit funny that she’d almost the groom on his way up the aisle.
He shook his head and turned his attention to Alison. “You ready?”
Her hands were clasped tightly together, the knuckles pure white. “Yes, but-”
“Last minute nerves?” he guessed.
She nodded.
Right, it looked like a last minute pick-me-up was needed. Pat looked up at the others and jutted his head to the door. Kitty and Mary seemed oblivious to the gesture, but Stephanie had enough sense to grab the two and drag them outside. With them safely gone, he sat down beside her.
“It’s a big thing, marriage,” he granted. “…You know, I got a bit jittery on my big day too.”
“Yeah?”
Pat nodded. “It’s silly, but a part of me was terrified that once I said yes, it’d all just fall apart. That he’d get bored of me once he had me, and it’d be a repeat of Carol.”
Her eyes widened, expression bewildered. “But, it’s the Captain. He adores you.”
One day he’d get them to call Ted by his actual name. But today was not that day.
“And Mike adores you,” he countered. “Sometimes your fear means something, but a lot of the time, it doesn’t. You two love each other, you both want this, and you’ve been together this long without regretting it. Marriage won’t change that. I know I said it’s a big thing, but really, it isn’t. It’s just you saying in front of a priest that yes, that’s who I want, forever and always. You already did it at the proposal, now you’re just doing it again.”
She still looked pale (though that might have been the whole dead thing), but she had that determined look back in her eye. “I want this,” she said. “And I’m going to do this.”
“That’s the spirit.” He pushed himself to his feet and smiled down at her. “Now come on, best not keep them waiting.”
It should have been strange, walking with a ghost down the aisle, but it really wasn’t.
Daley strolled in front of them with Jemima, aggressively throwing flower petals at everyone he passed, and the wedding march sounded tinny through their awful speakers, but somehow, that just felt right. It was just a little bit off, a little bit imperfect, and that felt perfect for a night as weird as this.
Mike was standing just a little way in front of Ted, right foot on top of his cap in hopes that it might actually stay on the ground long enough for him to get through his vows, tugging nervously on the end of his jacket.
At the sight of Alison though, he let out a breath and smiled.
Ted was sitting behind him on a ribbon entwined chair (by the pleased look on Gabrielle's face, that concession had taken some convincing, but Pat knew he’d appreciate it later), and gave him a silly little wave.
Pat waved back, and gave Alison a wink as he left her beside Mike. “Good luck.”
She grinned nervously. “Thanks.”
Overhead, the pigeon fluttered about noisily, but no one paid it any mind.
It was hard to remember his vows over the sound of Alison repeating hers (noticeably lacking any pop-song lyrics), and Ted clearly struggled to do the same, but every time they fumbled, they could only grin at each other.
By the time the priest announced “and now you may kiss the groom”, they were barely holding back laughter. But who could blame them? They were getting married with bloody ghosts. That was a comedy in the making.
By the sounds of the whistles and cheers coming from the ghosts, the newlywed Coopers were giving quite a spectacular show, but this time, Pat didn’t look. He was too busy smothering a grin against his husband’s lips.
Claps sounded in from the living, along with one loud sob from Bill, and at that, Pat really couldn’t hold back his laugh. He hid his face in Ted’s chest, grinning wildly.
Ted was right, it was nowhere near perfect as their proper wedding, but it was damned good all the same.
Later, after all the rice had been thrown (mostly by Daley at his cousins, who happily returned the favour) and Alison’s hair had reverted to its normal state, they put away the chairs and turned on the music.
Kitty was being spun around by Mary, beaming brightly, Julian was egging Robin on to mess with the lights, Thomas was still reading out his best man’s speech (even though nobody was listening), and the plague ghosts were in the corner, swaying to the music (Britney Spears, nice ). Stephanie was across the room, watching Gabrielle and Anne dance with a wistful gaze, Humphrey was being carried about by his head, and Alison and Mike was still slow dancing in the corner like they hadn’t even realised the music had changed.
He smiled softly at them before turning to his husband’s side, who was perched on one of the table corners. Pat handed him the champagne (Anne was insistent on that) and kissed his cheek.
“You enjoying yourself?”
“Of course,” Ted replied.
He watched as Anne and Bill’s eldest picked Daley up and swung him around, grinning as the younger one squealed in delight, frosting still smeared across his cheek. The rest of Pearce’s were nowhere to be seen, but Pat guessed that if he took a glance outside, he’d see them laughing and chasing each other around in the moonlight.
He sighed, happy and content, and leaned against Ted.
“So, what do you think? Do this again next year?”
Ted’s laugh rumbled through his chest and swatted Pat’s leg with his cane. “Don’t you even dare. One joint wedding is enough for me.”
Pat tutted. “You’re no fun you are.”
He took a sip of his drink just as the music changed. Ah, now this was some dancing music. He put down his glass and grinned up at Ted.
“Your leg good enough for one more round on the dance floor?”
“Patrick my dear, my legs are always good enough for Abba.”
Pat’s laugh faded into the music ad he pulled Ted to his feet. Outside, the night was dark and the moon was sparkling, but in here, the room was bright and life was grand.
There was a loud crackle, and an entire row of lights went out.
“Yes, get in!” Julian cheered.
Pat shook his head and grinned. Strange, for sure, but grand all the same.
And by the look Alison shot him, she felt the same.
***
A few days later, a package arrived at Button House. Pat carefully unwrapped it and hung it in the newlywed's room while they were away.
It was no wedding photo, but if Pat was being honest, a wedding painting sounded just as good.