Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There it goes.

There it goes again.

And again.

For the last hour, the same opening chords to Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water” were being played, each time more lifeless than the last. Were they trying to kill what little love he had for such a simple, already overplayed song?

Obviously so.

That. Is. It!

Bog flew up from the table. He could not take it anymore. He was going to walk over there and put that poor guitar out of its misery one way or the other, whether by taking the guitar, or by stopping the fingers from playing again. He preferred the latter idea, as he already owned two guitars.

Picking up his laptop and coffee, Bog left the highly-coveted table next to the outlet at the popular coffee shop. He headed upstairs, where a stage was set up for open mic nights held on the weekends. Today, apparently, was early practice, or so he hoped. He had seen signs of some sort for guitarists littering the shop for two weeks, so now must be the time.

When Bog got to the top of the stairs, he saw a line of five men with guitars, while on stage there was a brunette woman with a clipboard, standing regally as she watched another man make “Smoke on the Water” sound like a children’s lullaby. The guy playing had not been paying long by Bog’s observations, as the guy’s technique was atrocious, and even the woman (who was rather attractive with her hair in a pixie cut) seemed to be cringing as she watched. Why was she not stopping such crimes against their ears and Deep Purple? If she would not, then he would.

“Stop! Stop this right now! You, yes you, playing with the newly bought guitar onstage who doesn’t know how to play. Stop playing, or else.”

Almost dropping his guitar mid-song, the guitar player in question stopped playing once Bog started shouting and looking all dark and menacingly at him, and by the time Bog stopped talking, the guitarist was packed to go.

The other men in line snickered at the guitarist until Bog turned to them, his sneering words only making him seem more frightening.

“And how many of you are noobs like that guy there? Anyone else want to lose their guitars, or worse?”

With such threats hanging above their heads (literally, since Bog was a head taller than all of them), the five men soon dispersed, leaving the now-angry brunette on stage, fingers tapping irritably on the clipboard. Bog opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it just as fast as the woman chose that moment to start yelling at him. That she began to circle him, flitting about quickly as though flying, did not help him to keep up with her at first.

“What do you think you’re doing? Who do you think you are? What right have you to interrupt something that I paid good money to reserve-“

“Frankly, I’m doing both of us a favor. I saw the way you looked at them, don’t try to deny it. You thought they were just as bad as I did. Whatever reason you brought them here, it is not worth it. I’ve been listening since they began, and none of them sound good, one just as lifeless as the rest.”

“While that may be, I still need an accompanist. How do you suggest I fix that?”

She tapped her foot while waiting for him to answer, while he did his best to scare her by standing over her.

“Advertise better, or look for musicians at other venues. All the ones here are crap.”

The woman sighed before saying with an exasperated tone, “I’ve already tried that, Mister-“

“Bog. My friends call me Bog. You are?”

“Marianne. Wait, Bog, as in Bog of Eternal Stench?”

Bog crinkled his nose in annoyance before answering.

“I can see quite clearly how you feel about me now.”

Marianne blushed as she said, “No, I didn’t mean it like that! I was making reference to a movie I like-“

“That conveniently also insults me after I scared away your possibilities.”

“Really now? While I am upset about that, I still meant nothing else by calling you that. I just wanted to see if your name really was that unique.”

“Yes it is, for your information. My parents came from Scotland, and they wanted a way to remember their homeland, with a rather unconventional name.”

“An unconventional name that just happens to match the personality.”

“You know nothing about me, Marianne-“

Marianne was running at him now, and everything flew out in a rush as she tried to make her point. Bog quickly realized that he had a feisty one on his hands.

“Except for the fact that you are willing to interrupt my session to find an accompanist for my younger sister’s wedding after months of searching, and then you come in without asking any questions or being polite enough to wait until it was all done, which wouldn’t have been long. You’re also a music snob, who may or may not have any discernible musical ability of your own-“

“As for interrupting in the name of helping your sister, I’m sorry.”

He only paused for a moment, as politeness was something that he had always been taught by his mother (even if it was one of the few things that she had taught him). Then, he continued on.

“Still, the sound was grating beyond belief. As for being a music snob without talent,” he said, picking up a lonely guitar that had been left discarded by a scared wannabe, “I took violin lessons for eight years before learning guitar, and have been playing that since. The next time that you want to use Deep Purple, at least choose a more challenging song, like ‘Mistreated’. It’s a better, less known song.”

Marianne was about to object to his criticisms of her song choice when she heard the guitar. Then he started singing as well, and she stopped, curious to hear him.

He started off with the first couple well-known lines of being abused and mistreated, and then an evil grin overtook his already long, bony face as he changed the words to “Cause I know, that my ears, have been mistreated/Since you forced them to play, I’ve been losing my mind, you know I have-“

“Yes, yes, I get your point,” said Marianne, putting her hand on the guitar to stop him, “and it’s clear that you’re talented. You just say the word, and you can have the job.“

“No thanks. I don’t do silly, romantic stuff like weddings. I don’t do love, or at least the commercialized love of today.”

Marianne gave him a confused look before smiling and saying, “Yes, I feel the same! Normally, I would never do this for a wedding, but she’s my only sister, and the guy she’s marrying has been her best friend for years, so I know him well. Otherwise, I’d never touch it. I’ve already decided that I’m not getting married.”

“Hmph. Doubtful. Pretty girls like you always do. But all the same, I’m not interested. I have a day job, and I’ll stick to that. Good day.”

With that, Bog stomped out of the room, grabbing his stuff as he left, leaving Marianne still standing there open-mouthed. When Bog got to the entrance of the coffeehouse, he saw one of her signs. It was then that he realized why every person who owned a guitar had come: she was offering over $750 an hour to play with her, assuming they were willing to learn whatever she asked. It was tempting, but having to answer to her did not appeal to him. He was his own boss, and he planned to keep it that way. He did not need or want her, even if she was attractive, in a small, pixieish way. Besides, he would never see her again.

Marianne left the coffeehouse soon after Bog, ready to punch the lights out of any person who tried to stop her from leaving. The nerve of that guy! And that name. No matter, she would find someone else who was just as talented with voice and guitar. She still had plenty of time to find someone, and she did not need him. She hoped that she would never see him again.

Of course, neither knew that the other was planning to go the local renaissance festival in two weeks on the same day. Which left plenty of time to talk to others about the encounter afterward.

Chapter Text

“And I can’t get him out of my head….”

Several moments later, Marianne realized what she was saying and then shook her head as she walked from her car after listening to Electric Light Orchestra’s song of a similar name.  The guy named Bog had rushed in and out of her life only an hour ago, and she was still thinking about him.  How odd, and very bad. 

“Bad Marianne! This cannot be happening.  You’ll never see him again, and if Dawn were to hear you-“

“Marianne, is that you singing?”

Marianne tried to shake her head no, but Dawn was smiling knowingly as she got up and took off her gardening gloves and shook off the dirt on her.  

“Ah, ah, I heard it! Don’t try to deny it! I heard you singing.  Who is he?”

“There is no one-“

“I haven’t heard you sing since before-“

“As I said, there is no one in the picture.  I met a guy, yes.  But,” she said, putting up a hand to quiet her love-obsessed sister, “he is not someone I’m going to see again.  He is not important.  He came into and left my life within a half hour, all to stop my attempts to find an accompanist.”

“If it really is that hard, you don’t have to do it for us-“

“No, Dawn, I want to do it for you.  You both are cute together, even if it is too sweet for my liking.  I’m happy for you, and I want this day perfect for my younger sister.  I’ll just offer more money and look elsewhere.  I figured a coffeehouse would have a few musicians inside of it that were good.”

“Okay, alright, as long as you are sure.  I want you to have fun at the wedding and not work your butt off.  You’re already the maid of honor.  You shouldn’t feel bad about delegating.”

“I’m doing this for you, and that’s final.  Now, let’s go inside and get something to eat.”

The girls went inside, and Marianne hoped that Dawn had already forgotten about the guy she met as they made dinner for their girls’ night in.  Her hopes were soon dashed into tiny bits.

“So, what did this guy do exactly?”

After sighing in resignation, Marianne said, “He barged in when I had five more people to audition.  On and on he yelled at those guys, scaring them all within an inch of their lives.  If they weren’t so important to me, I would’ve laughed at how well and fast he made them run for being so new and terrible at guitar.”

“Sounds like a terrifying guy.”

“Well, being almost seven feet tall and broad shouldered with a name like Bog-“

“Wait, Bog, as in Bog of Eternal Stench?”

Marianne hugged her sister before continuing.

“Thank you for getting the movie reference.  Apparently those movie nights in college paid off.”

“So he didn’t get it?”

“Definitely not, and took it the wrong way.  But we didn’t talk much longer, so it worked out.  He had to rush to something, and I wasn’t about to stop him.  Really, the nerve of him.  He could have just waited a little longer, but no, too much Deep Purple had already been butchered.”

“Hypocrite.”

“I wish I could call him that.  However, he proved that he is more than capable with a guitar, and he’s actually quite good, at playing and singing.  I wish he had tried out.”

“I wonder why he didn’t.”

“He has a good job already, and he doesn’t do ‘silly, romantic stuff like weddings’,” she said, putting air quotes around his words. 

“Sounds like you two would get along,” said Dawn with a jab to the arm.

“No way.  Don’t you even start thinking about going there, little engaged one.  Just because you’re engaged and happy does not mean I want to be.  I’m happy by myself.”

“But you don’t sing anymore, and you used to love to sing!”

“You’ll hear me sing at your wedding.”

“But that’s still months away! Pw-eeze? I just want to see you happy, truly happy.”

“Dawn, I am happy.  I can’t be as happy as you, and you’re going to have to accept that.  As it is, I’m going to be taking on a lot more responsibility at work now that you’re jumping ship and creating your own business with Sunny.”

“We’re going to be the best interior decorators ever! I’m going to think of really cool ideas, and he’s going to make them all come to life.  He’s so good with his hands.  Wood or metal, he really is quite artistic.”

“I’ve seen and own some of his creations, too, dear.  His talent, combined with your ability to paint, will be a good combination.  I wish Dad would listen to reason.”

“I’m just glad he gave his blessing so we could marry.”

“Took him long enough,” muttered Marianne under her breath.

“So sissy, what shall it be tonight? Pasta?”

“Sounds good to me.  Then we can watch a movie while we eat.”

“Wanna watch Labyrinth? It’s been ages since we’ve seen it.”

“Dawn, I thought you’d never ask.”

On another side of town, Bog finally made it to his mother’s house and parked.  He would make it in time for dinner with ten minutes to spare.  Talking to Marianne had almost distracted him to the point of having to explain himself to his matchmaking mother, which he did not want to do if he could help it.

The only problem with that idea was an Electric Light Orchestra song playing on the radio, and it mirrored his thoughts about a certain brunette whose smile and general feistiness made him think for a moment about dating again.  It had been a long time since someone had been willing to stand up to him like that, and he admired that in a woman.

Far better that than running away and never speaking to him again.

He realized that he was starting to say, “And I can’t get her out of my head,” so he started humming before he got to the door.  No point to excite his mother, who was already at the door with a smile and wooden spoon. 

“Is that my Bog? Early even? What’s happened?”

Generally, Bog was good at arriving at his mother’s home right on time.  It was less time that she could interrogate him about his non-existent love life.  He had forgotten about that in his rush to leave.  He was really regretting talking to Marianne now.

“Traffic was lighter than usual.  That’s all.”

“Are you sure? I see a little pink in your cheeks.  I think you’re ly-ing.  Is it a girl?”

The pink in his cheeks from fibbing to his mother (he really hated doing so) intensified at being called out, and turned something deeper when she mentioned a girl.  Why was he even surprised that that would be the first thought of hers?”

“Yes! I knew it! You finally met someone! Oh, I’m so happy for you!” she said, wrapping her son in a tight hug.  Bog did his best to breath.

“I can’t wait to meet her.  You simply must bring her by sometime next week-“

“Mother, no.  It’s not like that.  Yes, it involves a girl, but not in the way you think.”

“Then what is it? Did you see that horrible witch again?”

“No, Mother, let me explain.”

And explain he did, as his mother put the finishing touches on the pasta before eating.  She sympathized with him and his ears, but she perked up upon hearing how much was being offered to play.

“Bog, dearest, I know you don’t like weddings, but that’s a lot of money.  It’d only be for a few hours at most.  Probably very easy for you.  Why don’t you consider doing it?”

“Mother, you’re only saying that because you want me to talk to that girl again.”

She spluttered indignantly before replying, “And so what if I am? She seems nice!”

“I don’t want nice.  Look at the last girl who had been nice at first.  No thanks, Mother.”

“Fine, but you should still go back to that coffee shop and grab a paper before she takes them all down.  You never know when you might change your mind.”

“There’s no point, Mother.  I’m never going to see her again, and that’s it.  With the amount of money she is paying, she’s probably a rich, spoiled brat who expects everyone to bend to her whims, especially when it comes to music.  You know how much I like being told what to do.”

Griselda laughed outright.

“Oh yes, I do.  Just about as much as your father, God rest his soul.  There’s a reason you own your own engineering consultant firm, my smart boy.”

“That’s right, Mother.  Well, thank you for the good meal.  It was good to see you again.”

“As it is every week.  I look forward to seeing you again then.  I hope to hear more good news on that front.”

“Don’t count on it.  Good night, Mother.”

As Bog drove home, he continued to think about Marianne and what his mother had said.  Perhaps grabbing a paper was a good idea regardless.  He would have to go there before going to Stuff’s place for Dungeons and Dragons.

As Bog walked into his apartment, Dawn and Marianne finished up their sister bonding night.  Those nights were limited, now that Dawn and Sunny were getting married and moving into their own custom home.  Dawn leaned against her sister, munching away at popcorn, while Marianne enjoyed listening to David Bowie sing.  It was not the same as another man she had heard singing earlier that day, but both were good in their way.  She tried to shake off such thoughts as quickly as possible, lest Dawn catch on.  Unfortunately for her, Dawn’s mind had already gone there and was only waiting the right moment.

“Marianne, did you ever have a crush on the Goblin King?”

The brunette took a moment to glare at her sister before responding.

“Of course I did.  Why do you think I showed you this movie? It’s certainly not for the acting.”

“Hee hee, no.  Definitely for David Bowie and his amazing singing.  Is he the best singer in your opinion?”

“I don’t know, Dawn.  He is good, but there are others with just as good voices, but in other ways.”

“Such as Bog?”

“Dawn!”

Marianne did not blush, but Dawn would bet good money that she was trying hard not to.  She had seen the way Marianne had looked off into the room earlier. 

“What? Come on, you really expect me to drop him? He’s the first guy you’ve talked about in a long time.”

“We argued,” said Marianne, as though it made total sense.

“There are worse ways to meet and end up together.”

“Such as, O Romantic One?”

“At a funeral.”

 “Way to kill the moment, Dawn.”

“You’re the one who asked.  But anyway, back to the topic at hand.  Was this Bog guy really almost seven feet tall?”

“He seemed like that.  He towers in the same way Jareth does over Sarah.”

“So Bog can be your own, personal Goblin King.”

“Dawn, I will not allow that line of thinking to continue-“

“Why? Because you’ll never see him again? Then why not? He’ll never realize that he is part of one of our inside jokes.”

“I’ll feel awful.  He deserves more than that, especially since he’s never seen the movie.”

“If he had, he’d probably be flattered.  Better Jareth than one of the goblins.  I like the way that sounds,  Bog the Goblin King.  I wonder what his last name is.”

“We’re never going to find out.”

“Then I shall name him Bog King.  It is so decreed!”

“That’s my sister.”

“Well, you’re not being very helpful, so I am.  Sheesh.  I want to have hope for you.  Plus, it’s fun to tease you about someone again.”

“I love you, too, Dawn.”

“Anytime, Sister,” Dawn said, reaching over and hugging her older sister.

“Let’s go to bed.  We have a long day of making fairy wings tomorrow.”

“Sunny is brining over all the equipment in his truck.  It’s going to be such a fun day! I wish Mom were here to help us and squeal over our designs.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud of us, just like Dad is that we still go and continue on, as Mom would have liked.”

Both girls slept soundly that night, with Dawn’s dreams not centered around Sunny for once.  Her mind was more delightfully engaged with thoughts of Marianne with Bog and how cute they would be together.  Marianne had another dreamless night.

Dawn was up first for once in the morning, and she headed downstairs to make breakfast for all three, as she expected Sunny any second.  This time would be their main source of alone time that day since Marianne would be home all day to help with Renaissance festival costumes.

“Dawn?”

“I’m coming, Sunny!”

Dawn threw the door open and ran into Sunny’s open arms.  After a long kiss and embrace, they let go of one another so that they could get all of the supplies out of the car.  Once that was done, a kiss of accomplishment was needed, and then they finished making breakfast together.  When Marianne came down, dressed and ready to go, a full breakfast was waiting, all the pancakes and eggs she could ask for.

“Good morning, Marianne!” said both in unison before hugging her. 

“Good morning to you, too.  Smells amazing.  I can’t wait to eat it.”

“I can’t wait for you to see the paint I found.  It’s the perfect purple for you, Marianne.”

“Thanks, Sunny.  I’m excited to see it.  What did you find for Dawn?”

“Exactly what she asked for.  She’s much more specific, which is good and bad, considering the shade she wanted.”

“But he found it, so that’s all that matters.  Thank you, Sunny,” said Dawn, leaning in to kiss him.

“Not in front me, guys! How many times do I have to tell you?”

After breakfast, the three went to the garage and got to work.  All came out satisfied with their progress.  Sunny would be an elf this year to play to his short height, and each girl had a brightly colored pair of fairy wings to match up with the rest of their fairy outfits.

On another side of town, Bog was driving from his office to the coffee shop.  As luck would have it, the shop was in the process of taking down the signs, so he took all of them after only asking for one.  From there, he went to Stuff and Thang’s home, who were hosting Dungeons and Dragons that week.

When Bog had first started his consulting firm, he had been unsure about how many people he would need, so he had started small.  Once he had a regular stream of people, then he expanded.  Stuff and Thang, however, had graduated a year behind him (and had done projects with him) and had been excited to work for him, no matter how small the group was. 

While working together, Stuff and Thang ended up falling in love and started dating.  Once they realized that Bog was not going to yell at them for having an office romance, they invited him to their Dungeons and Dragons nights that they had fairly often.  Considering the commanding personality he had, they decided that he would be a good Dungeon Master, and they were correct. 

As Bog played more, everyone else agreed as their nights had become far more exciting, even if partly because they were still a little afraid of him.  As Dungeon Master, he was fond of goblins, so they often had their campaigns as goblins.  From that, he earned the nickname as Goblin King, since he favored the goblins so much.  He was their unofficial leader, with Stuff and Thang the two who were forced to tell all news to him since he was their friend.

Bog ended up arriving a couple minutes late for the gathering because of traffic from the coffee shop.  He stuffed one paper in his pocket before heading inside to see who else had not arrived.  For once, he was the last one, so he took all the good-natured poking at him for being last after being such a time stickler. 

“Where you been, O Great King?”

“I got stuck in traffic.”

“Sure, like we haven’t heard that one before.  Denied! Try again.”

Bog sighed as he settled into his seat.  What should he tell them? Unfortunately for him, the paper in his pocket crinkled as he sat down before falling out of his pocket.  One guy picked it up and read it aloud for all to hear.

“What’s this? You giving up your day job to work weddings now? The great hater of love at a wedding?”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“What is it?”

“I met a girl at a coffee shop-“

“Your mother will be so happy.”

Bog gave the speaker a face of “Really?” before going on.

“I already crushed her dreams.  No.  This girl and I, we met and argued about her inability to find good performers.  She needs an accompanist, and she offered so much money that every bozo with a guitar came and killed all my love for ‘Smoke on the Water’.  It was bad.” 

“Why keep the sheet?”

“Look at the price and tell me that’s not ridiculous.  Just looking at the sheet makes me laugh.”

Once all laughed at it, the subject was dropped temporarily in favor of starting the game.  During their break, though, someone else brought it up again.

“So what was this girl like?”

“She’s a fireball, a really feisty one.  She was willing to yell at me.”

“I want to meet this girl.  I don’t think she exists.”

“Call that number, and you will.  But leave me out of it.  I don’t think she likes me.”

“Don’t worry, we still do.”

“Thank you, Peanut Gallery.  Anyway, what of the plans to go to the Renaissance festival?” Bog said, trying to redirect the conversation.

Bog had been to a couple festivals now, all with the rest of the group.  Thang and Stuff loved the festivals, so they dared everyone else to come one year.  All had fun, so they ended up going back, usually splitting up for the various interests.  Bog preferred to go on alone.  This year, it had been a little harder to plan, but the consensus seemed to be for the following weekend.  He liked the idea a lot since the theme would be the Scottish Highland Games.

“We can all go this year.  How does next Saturday sound?”

“Let’s go.  We’ll meet here and drive together to save on parking.”

“Righto, Kingy.”

The rest of the game continued on after that without any more mention of Marianne, which was how Bog preferred it.  He was good at getting his way in this respect, and all seemed to think that she was no big deal, even if he still thought about her more than he should.  It would not matter, and so he kept that mantra up.

The next week flew by.  Bog had a new client that he had to design for, so he put in long hours there.  His costume was already done, a goblin outfit that matched all the others’ outfits, with his having more regal colors and a crown to show that he was in charge.  By Friday, he had done a good job of limiting his thoughts of Marianne to once or twice a day, or so he told himself.

If it would have been any consolation to him, Marianne had a similar issue with thoughts of Bog coming back.  Granted, her thoughts were more frequent as she wondered if he could be bribed into helping her, mixed in with thoughts that stemmed from Dawn’s teasing about “her Goblin King”.

On Friday night, Marianne went out with Sunny and Dawn to a bar to celebrate Marianne’s success in finishing another project for her dad’s architecture firm, as Sunny wanted to hang out with the girls as well.  Dawn got on stage for a rousing rendition of “Sugar Pie Honey Bunch” (directed at a smiling Sunny) before sitting down and drinking more. 

Dawn was a lightweight, just like Marianne, but Dawn was not concerned as she had two people with her that she trusted.  Soon, Dawn was saying outrageous things and hugging Sunny incessantly.  She had hugged a lot before they dated, but once they became official, she limited all her hugging to him, much to Sunny’s delight.  Tonight, Marianne was on her mind, as was Bog.

“Marianne, I wish you had gotten his number.  I bet he’d enjoy this.”

“I doubt it, Dawn.  He seems quieter.”

“Despite meeting for such a brief time, you sure seem to know a whole lot about him.  I wonder why?”

“Things he said struck a chord with me.  That’s all.”

“I think you like him.”

“Dawn, if I have to tell you one more time-“

“He’s your own personal Goblin King.  And he sings too! Your own Boggy Woggy.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“Why not? Why do you care?”

“Because if I had a name like that, I’d never want to be called that.  Common courtesy.”

“Because you like him!”

“Sunny, I think it’s time to go home.”

“I’m right behind you, Marianne.”

“But, Sunny, I don’t want to go home yet.  We haven’t discussed which cakes we liked best from this morning’s tastings.  I really liked the second one.”

“I liked that one, too, but it was too sugary.  I thought the third one was the best balance.”

“Hmm, I think I need to try that one again.  Wait, when did we get to the car?”

“We need to go home, Dawn.  We have a drive ahead of us before the festival.”

“I’m so excited! Can we go to jousting together, just the two of us? It’ll be so romantic, just like last year.”

“Maybe not with every detail the same-“

“Oh, of course not, Sunny.  They might have expectations, but they’ll see us tomorrow.  And I’ll be proud to be there with you, my best friend.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Dawn.”

Night passed quickly, and soon it was time to get up and go to the local Renaissance festival.  All piled into their respective cars and arrived in time for the opening ceremonies.  Marianne’s group got there before Bog’s group because Marianne forced Dawn to get up earlier than usual, but it was worth it.  Bog and his crew got there soon after, and they greeted the staff and volunteers like old friends.

Bog enjoyed the volunteers this year who played Queen Elizabeth and her court.  They were more lively than last year’s.  Once they were all let into the festival officially, the group posed for a few pictures before splitting up as always.  Bog went off to a shady corner (as the day was already feeling hot, even for September) to look at the map and determine his schedule of events for the day.

Once he got close to a tree, he saw a bright purple in the corner of his eye, and he investigated it.  As he got closer, he saw that the purple was in fact wings.  Fairy wings by his estimation.  They were not store-bought, like so many others, but were delicately wrapped and crafted.  A feat like that was uncommon and deserved a second look.  Then, he heard a female grunt of frustration. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you unstuck.  Sunny is looking for someone taller as we speak.”

Taller? Bog was puzzled until he spotted where the right wing was attached to a tree branch.

 It was easy for him to grab the branch and wing, so he said, “Here, I got it.  I promise to be gentle on the wings.”

It took him only a moment, and once he unhooked the wing, the owner turned around, as though to thank him.  And then they recognized one another.

“You!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: A Renaissance Festival

“You!”

“What are you doing here?”

“Why do you think I’m here, Marianne? I’m here to enjoy the festival.  Aren’t you?”

“Well, I was-“

Bog scowled and deflated a little before answering.

“I’m glad I killed this day for you, too-“

“No, not that again!” said Marianne, stomping her foot in annoyance.  “I was referring to my wings getting stuck.  I spent hours trying to make these, and then to have them be ruined by a stray tree branch, right at the beginning of the day, is annoying.”

Bog could hear the sigh escape Marianne, which made him pause in his ready tirade for her.  She really was upset about the wings.  Perhaps he could mend after last time.  He started out talking by looking at the ground.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, they still look great.  It’s a small hole that most won’t notice, and if they do, they’ll probably think it was done like that on purpose.”

“So just own it, and no one will care?”

“That’s what I do.  No one tells me differently,” he said with confidence.

“I like it,” she said, smiling at him.

The two stood there awkwardly for several moments, both smiling at the other before Dawn came rushing back.

“Marianne, good news! I found a super tall and nice guy to come over and help! He’s coming with Sunny now,” she said before stopping and realizing that her sister was actually smiling.  Then she saw that Marianne was not stuck in the tree anymore.  And then she saw a very tall guy smiling back.  The gears in Dawn’s head moved so fast at speeds never seen before, and she was smiling as well.

“Bog King! It’s great to meet you at last!”

Dawn rushed in, ready to hug Bog, when Bog suddenly turned upon hearing his full name and scowled menacingly at Dawn, who stopped short immediately.

“How did you know my name? Who are you?”

“Me? I’m Dawn, Marianne’s sister.  You know her, right? I’m the one getting married.  It’s nice to meet you.”

Dawn tried again to go up and hug Bog, but he prevented her, still confused but hiding it well.

“How did you know my name? Marianne only knows my first name.”

“Uhhh, well, you see-“

“Did you look me up?”

“No.”

Dawn looked like she wanted to shrink to Sunny’s size and run away, and Marianne enjoyed it.  It was not often that someone made her outgoing sister pause like that, and considered Bog lucky.  While she was surprised at finding out that it was his real name and how she was going to be teased about it later, she was curious to see how Dawn got herself out of these things, as she always did.

“Then how did you know my name?”

“I didn’t! I just saw the crown on your head, and went with that.  You’re tall enough to pass for one.”

That pacified Bog some, so his scowl disappeared.  No smile yet, but it was enough for Dawn to go to him and hug him, shocking him with the contact.

“Anyway, now that we have figured that out, thanks so much for helping with my sister’s wings! I was so worried that I’d have to climb on Sunny’s back to untangle it.  Speaking of Sunny, where is he?”

Sunny appeared moments later, huffing and looking scared.  After he took a moment to breathe, he tried to explain himself.

“Dawn, the guy got called away, so-“

“Aw, it’s okay, Sunny! It’s all taken care of, see? This nice guy named Bog took care of her for us.”

“Wait, Bog, as in-“

“Yes, that Bog,” said Bog stepping up to both with his arms folded.  “I see Marianne told you both about our meeting in the coffee shop.”

“Meeting? More like loud confrontation,” said Marianne with a smile.

“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, Marianne.”

“Well, you’re getting it anyway, Bog.  I owe you for all the opinions you shared with me last time.”

Bog turned away from the engaged couple and faced Marianne, who was smiling and giving him a challenging look.  Both puffed themselves out, ready for another rehash of last time.

“They were desecrating all that was good about ‘Smoke on the Water’, which wasn’t much to begin with! I was doing you a favor.”

“I still don’t have anyone.”

Bog just shrugged at Marianne, which only frustrated her more.

“Not my problem.  You aren’t looking in the right places.”

“Are you suggesting that I go up to all the musicians here and ask them?”

“It would be a start, yes.”

“Sure, let’s ask all these people specializing in Renaissance festival type music if they can play the guitar and do some rock and roll.  Great idea,” she said, sarcasm laden in each word.

“I’m just full of them.  I am a King, as you now know.  You should listen to me, Princess.”

“Princess?”

“You don’t look like you’re used to going out and doing so much work, if you can’t even hire a musician.”

Marianne looked like she wanted to punch the guy, so Dawn stepped in before Marianne got herself kicked out of another public place for fighting.

“Hey look, guys, it’s almost time for the jousting! Who wants to go?”

Marianne made a face of disgust before Bog chimed in.

“No thanks.  The horses deserve better riders than the pretty boys who spout romantic drivel like that.”

“Thank you,” said Marianne.

“I’m off to see the Washing Well Wenches, as it is.  If you’ll excuse me, I’m sure you have other things you wanted to do today-“

“Now hang on a second, Bog! You say you’re going to see the Wenches, too?”

Bog turned back around and gave Dawn a questioning glance.

“Yes, too?”

“Well, I know Marianne also hates the jousting, though I think it has more to do with what happened last year, and she loves the Wenches as well.”

Bog raised his eyebrows at Marianne, who shrugged her shoulders.  She made it clear that she did not want to talk to him.  Bog acted accordingly.

“Even if she does, I’m sure she’s going to a later show and doesn’t want my gloomy company.  I’ll just be making fun of everyone there, anyway.”

“But Marianne does that, too! See? You have to take her with you, so that she isn’t making gagging noises when Sunny agrees to volunteer.”

Both Bog and Marianne chuckled at the thought of little Sunny volunteering, but more so Marianne, knowing that he would not enjoy being poked, prodded, and forced to almost kiss the Wenches in order to get the rose that the Wenches gave to male volunteers. 

“Whether or not Marianne does it is irrelevant.  She doesn’t wish to speak to me, and I’m not going to force myself, either.”

“Marianne.  You know he’s going to be here.”

Bog stopped at the mention of a “he”.

“So what? I’ll just punch him and enjoy myself.”

“Marianne, I don’t want to have to bail you out of jail like last year.”

“But it was so worth it!”

“Marianne, I’d feel so much better if you had another guy around, just to scare him off.  Please? For my sake?”

“Dawn, I can take care of myself.”

“Bog, help her see reason.  She just needs an escort-“

“I can take care of myself, Dawn.”

“Yes, I know you can, but you need to let others do so, sometimes.  Just for most of the day, alright? Once you scare him off, then Bog can stop being a gentleman and leave.”

“Who said I was a gentleman? How do you know I’m not evil for all the things I’ve already done?”

“Nah, anyone who enjoys Deep Purple that much and would help with Marianne’s wings is okay in my book,” said Dawn, waving off his objections.

“Regardless, if Marianne-” Bog said before stopping as he saw Marianne’s face. 

Marianne’s shoulders slumped before crossing her arms and looking at him, tilting her head away from the group.  He took that cue as Marianne’s resigned willingness, and if it meant getting the nosy Dawn out of his face, he would do it.

“Oh good, so you agree! I knew you’d come around.  You two have fun now, while Sunny and I go watch some jousting.  Have fun and try not to get into any fights!”

Dawn flitted away with Sunny, hand in hand.  Both smiled and took off, leaving the other two alone again.

“Do you actually like the Wenches, Marianne?”

“Yes, I do.  I love making fun of all the dudes stupid enough to allow themselves to be manhandled, all for their girlfriend’s sake.  It’s my favorite part of the day.  I try to do it first, while it is still cool since there isn’t much shade there.”

“My thoughts exactly.  The show starts in thirty minutes.  If we’re going to get good seats, we need to hurry.”

Bog started walking with purpose while Marianne stood still for a moment, confused.  Finally, she ran to catch up with Bog’s much longer stride.

“Are you actually agreeing to do this? Or did you agree just to get rid of Dawn like I was?”

Bog smiled at Marianne before he used his long staff to push people out of their way.

“The latter, of course.  She is persistent.”

“Try living with her.”

“Better you than me.  But it would be funny to see her fiancé go up and volunteer.”

“He won’t.  He knows what awaits him.”

The two continued to talk about other parts of the Wenches’ show that they liked until they finally arrived.  They got a seat in the middle of the action, sitting next to each other, but with enough space to suggest that they were not together.  The space did not last long once all the seats started to fill, and Marianne took off her wings so that she would not hit anyone, while Bog tried to rearrange his body so that the harder part of his armor was not against Marianne.     

Soon, the show started.  The Wenches introduced themselves before they started their jokes and got orders for beer.  They did their best to sit in all the men’s laps who ordered, so Bog had more reason not to drink.  Marianne pointed out which guys looked stricken at the thought of the Wenches trying to press their bosoms in their face. 

The two continued to whisper to one another throughout the show.  Not even the short interlude of the guy with the whip was safe from their comments.  Marianne made faces as the Wenches brought back the beer and took sips of it, especially of Guinness, before giving it to the people who ordered.  Once the challenges started, the two could not stop laughing.  Some men were forced the wear the women’s dirty laundry, or else run to a random place and declare loudly his undying love for his girl, while others were put on public display for their muscles, talents, or whatever else the women decided. 

“Why any guy would willingly put up with that for a flower is beyond me,” said Marianne.

“You don’t like the idea of men suffering trials and laughing at them for it?”

“While I may enjoy laughing at them, do you really think I’d want any man of mine to be touched by those women like that? Certainly not.”

Bog snorted before nodding his head.

“That’s true.  I’m sure your boyfriend is grateful to you for that.”

“Who said I had a boyfriend?”

Marianne’s face went from wide-eyed to scrunched-up in moments. 

“I assumed.”

“You shouldn’t assume.  I might have once, but not anymore.  I don’t do love, any more than you.”

“Your sister is a special case.”

“More than you know.  I’ll explain once this ends.”

Soon, all the men were reunited with their significant others, who now held flowers.  The Wenches continued to fling water from the laundry at the guests in the front couple rows as they tried to make the crowd scream more so they could be considered the loudest group there. 

Finally, the Wenches said their goodbyes, looking for tips of all sorts.  Bog and Marianne gave their tip before Marianne led Bog over to a bench to sit and explain Dawn.

“There’s a reason why I didn’t want to go to jousting with Dawn and Sunny.  It’s their special time together.”

“Why?”

“Because my sister and I have been attending Renaissance festivals since being in strollers with my Mom and Dad.  Once my Mom died, the one who really loved these things, my Dad stopped going, but Dawn and I still went.  Sunny has been her best friend since age seven, so he was there for her throughout.  It was hard to even get them together in the first place after being best friends for so long.”

“How did they end up doing that?”

“Oh, Dawn went through a boy-crazy stage, so Sunny was her source of advice and go-to friend of all times.  She has a habit of going to the bar and singing ‘Sugar Pie Honey Bunch’ when drunk to whatever guy she happens to go with, except Sunny.  One time, she sang the part about ‘You know that I love you’ right at Sunny, and for once, Sunny couldn’t help himself and actually smiled and looked with adoration at her, like he does whenever she is not looking.  Dawn saw it, and she had a long conversation with him after, that ending with them kissing and dating at long last.”

“So she doesn’t sing that song anymore?”

“Oh no, now she does it all the time, for Sunny.  He loves it for whatever reason.  He’s just as good, so don’t think he lets her do all the singing.”

“So what does jousting have to do with them?”

“Since Dawn and I love this place so much, Sunny thought it appropriate to propose here.  Her favorite part of the festival is jousting, so he talked to all of the festival people and pleaded his case.  After much talking and some money exchanging hands, he was ‘picked’ to be a volunteer jouster since one guy fell off his horse ‘at the last second’,” she said putting up air quotes.

Bog shook his head before Marianne continued.

“He said he would do it for Dawn, and he ended up winning, of course.  Then he came back victorious, knelt down, and proposed.  Dawn was speechless.  I’ve never seen her so happy.”

“So you knew this was going to happen the whole time?”

“Of course! I was taping it on my camera so that they can show it to their kids one day.  Sunny pleaded with me to do it, though I would have done it regardless for my sister.  There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for her.”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have her, more like.  She had to put up with me during a time when I hated all people, especially men.  But she bore it well and tried to get me to come out and do stuff with her and Sunny.”

“What happened?”

“I’d rather not talk about it, but suffice it to say that it involves a guy that I’d rather forget about, even if he won’t leave me alone, not that my Dad is helping much.  He’s the reason Dawn wants you here.  But I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“You don’t need a big, scary guy beside you, Tough Girl?”

“No.  You probably don’t even know how to fight.”

“Don’t assume, Tough Girl.  You probably know how to kick where it hurts, and that’s it.”

Marianne stood up and put her fists in the air.

“Want to bet?”

“I’d love to.  But first, let’s do it somewhere appropriate.”

“Where? No one encourages fighting here.”

“On the contrary, I know people here.  I have one friend involved in the Scottish Highland games right now, as well.  He happens to have weapons lying about for such a thing.”

Marianne scoffed at such an idea, but soon Bog was off, scaring anyone who got in his way.  Marianne soon had to run to catch up with him, yet again.  This running around was getting old in her mind.

“Would you slow down a bit?”

“Having trouble keeping up, Tough Girl?”

“Not at all.”

“Sure seemed like it.”

“You’re scaring a lot of people unnecessarily.”

Bog laughed at such a thought before continuing on toward where the games were happening.  Lots of people participated where allowed, but certain things they did not, such as with the swords.  His friend taught fencing professionally and had taught Bog for years now, and he was in charge of the weapons at this event.

“So you do know how to use a broadsword, right?”

Marianne glared at Bog before walking past him and elbowing him.

“Yes, I know.  I’ve been fencing for years.  You’re going to need a lot of ice when I get through with you.”

“Doubtful.  I’ve been doing it for just as long.  Excuse me for a second.”

Marianne watched as Bog talked amicably to the guy blocking access to the sharp weapons.  She had not been to practice in a while, but she knew a little warm-up would take care of that problem.  Soon, the guy was slapping Bog on the back and beckoning Marianne forward. 

“Pick your weapon, Marianne.”

“Aren’t you as well, Bog?”

“I already have mine,” he said, smug smile in place.

“That walking stick?”

Bog waved off Marianne’s comment.

“This stick is actually a staff, carefully cut and balanced for optimum effect.  Watch and see.”

“Ha.  I’ll still beat you easily.”

“Want to bet, Tough Girl?”

Bog was smiling, and Marianne saw her chance to use his cockiness.

“Oh yes.  If you lose, then you have to be my accompanist at my sister’s wedding.”

“And if you lose, then you have to tell me about this guy that you don’t want to see ever again.”

“Deal.  Hit me with your best shot,” she said, her hands motioning to him to bring it on.

“Are you going to sing that while fighting, Tough Girl?”

“No.  If I’m going to sing anything right now, it’s going to be ‘Straight On’ as I beat you.  What about you?”

“I avoid the singing as much as I can, especially with other people around.”

“But you have a good voice.  If you’re so evil, you could do ‘TNT’.”

“I don’t sing.  Stop stalling, Marianne.  I’m coming for you.”

“Not before I come straight on for you.”   

The two shook hands and then took five minutes to warm up.  After warming up, the fighting began.  The agreement had been to keep to good fencing techniques, but that got out of hand quickly since both were enjoying the exercise.  Marianne took the offensive right away, swinging her sword at him as he blocked with his staff. 

A group gathered to watch the advanced fencers as they started in one corner of the field and eventually weaved around the entirety of the playing field, striking at one another every chance they got. 

Stuff and Thang saw the crowd starting to form and saw their boss fighting with a girl.  It was not often that he did that, so both watched eagerly.  Stuff took out her phone to record it.  Thang wanted to help, but Stuff stopped him from going out there and risk getting himself hurt.

Meanwhile, the battlefield had never been so perilous, with random implements like javelins lying around, as they had all been abandoned the moment people saw them going at it.

Marianne thrust at Bog.  Bog blocked.  A riposte followed, but was parried easily by Marianne. 

“Is that all you got, Tough Girl?”

“For you, never.  I’m just warming up.”

The broadsword clanged as it hit the long staff, from under, then over, then in a circle as Bog directed the sword away to throw Marianne off-balance.  Marianne flipped into the air, sword at the ready.

“Come on, Bog King! Can’t you do any better than that?”

“Watch your mouth, Tough Girl.”

Stones appeared in their way.  Marianne jumped on the rocks for more of a height advantage.  Bog aimed for her legs.  She jumped and tried to hit from above.  Bog just moved his staff up with such force to throw her off the rocks. 

Marianne dropped the sword to recover.   Bog was behind her in a moment.  Two kicks to the knees had Bog backing up, giving Marianne time to grab her sword back. 

“Almost got you that time, Marianne.  Watch yourself.”

“I’m not even breaking a sweat here.  I was expecting a real challenge from you.”

Next came the poles.  Marianne thrust again, only for Bog to push her back, as he was annoyed by her comments.  He went to the other side of a pole, swinging his staff at her.  Marianne fell back.  She tried to go behind him, but he turned in a moment, the sword clinking as it hit the pole instead.  She almost had him! Bog was impressed.  The two danced about the pole, trying to hit one another. 

As the two drew near to the instructor, he began waving his arms about, asking them to limit the fight to another five minutes before he called a draw.  Both acknowledged him with words but never took their eyes off of their opponents.

“Where’s all that menace, Bog King? You’re all bark and no bite.”

“I didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice.  Here I come, coming straight on for you!”

Bog made one last attempt to feint a move right before trying to use his height to advantage and come down on Marianne.  She ducked and glided out from under him.  Once free, she lunged at him near his hand, trying to knock the staff out of his hand, but to no avail.  The two fought, almost danced, in a circle, each thrusting and blocking, trying so desperately to get the winning hit.

Before they knew it, the instructor blew a whistle and asked them both to stand down and accept a draw. 

“Looks like neither of us won, Bog.”

“Yes.  You know what that means.”

“I do.  Now you’re helping me with this music since you’re so talented.”

“And you owe me a story, Marianne.”

Both bowed and shook hands again before being mobbed by people asking them if they gave lessons or toured with their show.  Stuff and Thang saved them by pushing through.

“Don’t worry, King, we got it all on video.”

“What? Why did you do that?”

“Because you looked pretty awesome out there.  Why else? Wait ‘til everyone else sees this!”

Stuff grabbed Thang and pulled him away in case Bog was not happy about being on video.  She did not care, as it had been a good fight to watch.

The dueling couple soon escaped the crowd and headed for shade and water.  They almost got pickles from one of the many sellers, but waited for water.  Bog managed to scare a few people out of line so that they could get water faster.  They ended up getting turkey legs as well since they had worked up an appetite. 

Once they had refreshment and shade, they calmed down more as they discussed what else they had planned to do.  They found out that they both wanted to go to the human chess tournament being held soon, as well as one other show later.  Marianne decided to stick around Bog, as he was actually good company for her, not just talking about himself or wasting time on mindless small talk and flattery like other people she had known.

“Are you going to tell me about this guy at some point?”

“Yes, eventually.  Oh! There’s a kilt stand right there.  Are you planning to go there?”

“Me?” he asked, his voice going up a couple octaves.  “Why would I go in there?”

Bog did his best to avoid eye contact with Marianne, much to her amusement.

“Well, you are Scottish.  Do you own a kilt?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that I own a kilt.  As my father was a proud Scotsman, he owned a few-“

“Hey!” screamed Marianne to the guy that happened to walk out of a tent just then, “do you know this guy?”

“Of course! We’ve had many a conversation.  A very good customer.”

“Pare!”

“Well, you are!”

“Thank you, kind sir.”

“Anytime, M’lady,” he said, before going back in the tent.

“You were saying, O Kilt-Owner?”

“I bought them for my father.”

“Sure, Bog.  It’s alright.  I promise I won’t laugh too much if you tell the truth.  I bet you wear them often.”

Bog’s ears turned pink.  He was tired of this subject.

“Marianne, stop trying to change the subject.  Now, back to my original question.  What about this guy? Is he an ex of some sort?”

Marianne’s shoulders dropped before she glared at him for finding her out.

“Of some sort, yes.  I was engaged to him, in fact.  His name is Roland, and he’s a lying, cheating scumbag that needs to be punched many times.” 

“Sounds like I would hate him, too.”

“Be glad you never met that two-faced, flattering womanizer-“

Bog waited for her to continue until he saw where her eyes were focused.  Ahead, a blond guy in shiny armor strutted about, his helmet in hand as he looked for someone.  The moment his eyes connected with Marianne’s he smiled and headed toward her.  The petite brunette gave him a glance so cold that it could freeze water, or his heart if he had one.  Bog put a hand on Marianne’s arm.

“Is this the guy?”

“That’s him.  Excuse me while I beat up this stalker.”

Marianne marched up to Roland as he greeted her with every pet name he could think of.  Bog did not like this guy one bit and stood behind Marianne, just in case.

“Roland, why are you here?”

“C’mon Marianne, you can’t be surprised to see me.  We go to this every year together.”

“Not since you cheated on me right before the wedding.”

“Now see here, I’ve come to talk to you about that-“

Before he could say anymore, Marianne sent a left hook at his eye, making sure he had a nice shiner on his pretty little face, followed by a punch under the chin to send him to the ground.  She hoped he was unconscious.

“I feel so much better now.  If only I could just put him in jail, I’d be all set.”

Bog smiled at Marianne before saying, “Actually, I think I can help with that.  Watch him for a second.  I’ll be right back.”

Five minutes later, Bog came back with three guys holding rope. 

“What’s all this for, Bog?”

“We’re going to put him in jail.  For the rest of today, to make sure that he doesn’t bother you.”

“You don’t have to.”

Marianne put up a hand to stop the men, but Bog took hers in his bigger one, bringing it down and squeezing.  His eyes pleaded with hers.

“Yes, I do.  Please let me, Marianne.  It’d give me great pleasure to do this to the guy that cheated on you.  You deserve so much better than that.”

After that, Bog and the other three guys tied up Roland and carried him off to the local “jail”, a wooden set of bars in a rectangular shape, where they hung up signs declaring his crimes to the world, including, but not limited to, arguing, disturbing the peace, being a pervert, magic box abuse, lying, and cheating.  The final one added by Bog was “Just Because”. 

Bog and Marianne high-fived one another in triumph and waited for Roland to wake up, who was shocked to be inside.  Once he saw Marianne, she pointed and laughed, then took Bog’s outstretched arm to leave.

Thankfully, the jail was close to where the chess match was happening, and both were allowed to join in the game, but on different sides.  Bog took to whispering in the ear of one of the volunteers.  The volunteer whispered back, making Bog scowl for a moment, but he agreed, so the volunteer quickly switched his place with someone else. 

Marianne realized then that he really did seem to know everyone there.  In this case, it had been beneficial so far, as she would never have gotten to fight like that normally.  Or have this opportunity.

Queen Elizabeth gave her speech to encourage her subjects to beat the other team, including Bog.  Bog just smirked at her.  The game began, and after a few moves, the two got the chance to fight one another again.  They had blunt rapiers and fought until Bog pretended to be hit by her and bowed out.  Marianne was confused until she realized that that was probably why Bog had scowled earlier, knowing that he would have to lose to her.  She just smiled at him, waving her clasped hands in the air.

The chess game ended with Queen Elizabeth’s side winning, and when that was done, the two decided to look at merchants until the later show.  They went over to a new portion of the festival, called the Dark Forest.  Bog was intrigued, and Marianne liked the idea of shade. 

Once in the Dark Forest, they watched little shows until coming upon a gypsy fortune teller.  The sign above declared her to be Sugar Plum.  She smiled at the couple and asked them to come closer.

“Sorry, gypsy, but I don’t believe in all that nonsense,” said Bog.

“Nor do I,” added Marianne.

“Neither of you believe in magic?”

“Magic, and love for that matter,” replied Marianne.

Sugar Plum tsked before waving her hands over her crystal ball, which soon clouded up.

“You will believe in both.  I predict great things for the two of you.  Together.”

“We’re not together,” said Bog.

“But you will be, mark my words,” said the gypsy.  “I see music in your future.  Together, you two can do anything.  Have a nice day,” she said, motioning to the path beyond her.

With that, Sugar Plum picked up her crystal and petted her pet monkey, if that was what the white creature was.  Neither was sure but did not ask, preferring to leave the odd woman.

“Well, that was weird,” said Marianne.

“You can say that again.  I wonder what else is this way?”

“Let’s find out.  First one to the end wins!”

Marianne had already been ahead of him, but Bog did not mind.  She was much shorter than him, and he could afford to give her a head start.  He soon caught up, and then he slowed down and ran backwards to taunt her.  She pushed on to try to pass him.

As it turned out, there was a lot more of the path than either realized.  Neither was a runner, after what seemed like the first mile, the two were wearing out fast.  It was then that Bog spotted a river. 

“We’re almost there! I see the river!”

“But can we make it?”

“I know I can.  And I know how you will, too.”

Female shrieks were heard as a fairy was tossed onto the shoulder of a tall goblin, sprinting the last bit of the journey,  despite her kicking at him, before he dropped her off right before the end and ran ahead to win.  Marianne crossed onto the dock where Bog was standing, looking at the water.

“Are we still in the festival, Bog?”

“I’m not quite sure.  Haven’t seen anyone for a while.  But the gypsy just pointed us in this direction, so I assumed so.”

“Maybe we should go back.”

“Wait a few minutes, Tough Girl.  Let’s rest here and enjoy the peace and quiet a little more.”

They sat down on opposite sides of the dock, both removing their shoes to put their feet in the water.  They drank in the quiet, the only sound being the water as it gurgled past them.  Eventually, Marianne lay back on the dock to look at the sky.  Soon, Bog was doing the same, their heads at the same level.

“This is nice.  I could stay here a long time.”

“I wish we could, Marianne, but we’re going to have to leave soon if we still want to get something to eat before seeing the last show.”

“Is it close already?”

“We’ll need an hour probably to get there, and that’s soon.”

“Five more minutes,” she said, turning her head toward him to hide in the shade of Bog.

“Works for me,” he said, scooting closer to her to give her more shade.

After a time, Bog stood up and helped Marianne up as well.  As he bent down to pick up her wings, Marianne got an idea.  She bent down to the water, and splashed him.  He did not respond well.

“I hope that was just the current acting up, and not you, little one.  You’ll lose this splash war.”

“Not if I can help it,” she said, splashing him more. 

Bog dropped the wings to get water of his own on her side, soon sending small waves her way with his large hands.  Marianne knew a losing battle when she saw one, so she shoved him a little and ran off.  Bog laughed before running after her.

Once he caught up, she started walking, and they walked in silence the rest of the way, smiles glued to their faces.  Bog tried to think of some way to get back at her, while Marianne enjoyed the scenery.

The walk back was much shorter than the one into it, to their surprise.  Soon, they were seeing booths, but no Sugar Plum.  Her wagon was nowhere to be seen.  A sign also appeared on the path, but they paid no heed to it since it was for the other way. 

On the rest of the path, they got to enjoy looking at the various wares, from pixie dust and chainmail clothing to fine leather and fairy wings.  Both preferred the weapon dealers, and Bog introduced Marianne to the different sellers.

Finally, the two grabbed more food and went to the last show of the evening.  The comedian was funny, and both laughed, even making Marianne cry at one point because Bog should not be allowed to talk about all the imbeciles in the world and what he would do to them, and how this comedian was not helping.

When the show was done, they headed out into the main square, only to be flagged down by a screaming Dawn.

“There you two are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Haven’t we, Sunny?”

“Yes, we have.  Where did you go?”

“We’ve been all over the place,” answered Bog.

“And making scenes too!”

“What?” screeched Dawn.  “Now what did you do?”

“Don’t worry, it was allowed, this time.”

“Marianne, what did you do?”

“Well, first, Bog and I fought with sword and staff in front of a crowd and got it recorded, and then I punched Roland in the face and really enjoyed it.  Bog was nice enough to lock him up in jail for the rest of the day.  Then, we played in Queen’s Chess, and I beat Bog.”

“Hmph.  Only because I was forced.”

“Sure, Bog.”

“Aww, it’s okay, Boggy Woggy.  I believe you.”

“I’m not Boggy Woggy or Boggy.  It’s Bog.”

“Bog, Boggy, whatever.”

“You should be nicer to him, Dawn.”

“Why?”

“Because he agreed to be my accompanist for the wedding.”

Dawn’s face lit up.  Bog did not like where this was going.  He was right, as Dawn was soon hugging the life out of him.

“Oh, thank you so much Boggy! I really appreciate it, and so does Marianne, even if she won’t say out loud! Thanks! I’m glad you can join us! It’s going to be so much fun! I can hardly wait! So, did you exchange numbers yet?”

“Dawn! We’re not dating.”

The fact that Marianne’s mind went there first was not lost upon Dawn.  She smiled.

“So? You still need to contact one another to figure out where to practice.”

“I guess so,” said Marianne.

“Give me your phone, and I’ll give you mine,” said Bog.

The two exchanged numbers, and that was when the rest of Bog’s group found him.

“There’s our King, the great staff-wielder himself.”

“And don’t forget kilt-owner extraordinaire,” added Marianne sweetly.

Bog gave her a dirty look before wishing her and the engaged couple good night.  His friends soon were on him.

“So who’s that, King?”

“That’s the girl he was fighting earlier.  It was a tie.”

“She’s pretty, and good for you.  You two should date.”

“Have I ever told you, Thang, that I’ll ask for your opinion when I want it?”

Thang mumbled to Stuff about her saying it instead, while Stuff just smiled and patted her boyfriend’s hand.  After that, they all left.  It was right before they all got in their cars that Stuff spoke up.

“So how did you meet her, Bog?”

“She’s the one I met in the coffee shop.  Today was purely by accident.”

“But you both felt that you needed to take out your growing frustration with one another by sparring together.  Good idea.  Did it help?”

“Good night, Stuff.”

In another part of the parking lot, the sisters and Sunny got into their car to go home.

“So, did you spend all day with him?”

“As it so happens, yes.  I hadn’t intended to, but it turned out to be a lot of fun.  I never thought I’d get to spar here.”

“That’s okay; I thought I’d never get proposed to by a gallant knight, either,” she said, smiling at Sunny. 

Sunny blushed before starting the car.

“So, what did you do with him?”

“I already told you most of it.”

Marianne was trying so hard to look tired, but Dawn was not about to let something like this go.

“But there’s more.  Tell us!”

“Later, Dawn.”

“C’mon, we got a long ride ahead of us.  Please?”

“Marianne, she won’t stop until you do.”

Marianne sighed, knowing Sunny was right.

“I know.  I just want to delay it as much as possible.”

“Why? Because he actually is King? He’s your Goblin King! Did you see the other guys with him? They’re all dressed as goblins.  He is a Goblin King! Yours.”

“Dawn, do you want to hear the rest of this, or not?”

“Yes,” she said, pouting.

“Good, then let me tell you about the Dark Forest.”

Dawn put her hands under her chin and looked expectantly at her sister.

“Did you get lost?”

“No.  We raced.  He picked me up.  We lay on a dock and enjoyed the river.  And a weird gypsy told us our fortune despite us telling her that we didn’t believe in what she did.”

“That’s odd.  What did she say?”

“She said that we would do great things together.”

“I knew it! You were meant to play music together!”

“Dawn-“

“Oh, better yet! You’re going to fall in love over playing music together.  He will sing to you, just like Jareth, and you’ll be swept away by him.”

“Sunny, drive faster.”

“Aye, aye, Captain Marianne.”

Chapter Text

“So, Bog? Have you called that nice girl yet?”

Bog spit out the water he was drinking as he heard the first words from his mother over the phone.

“Mother! Why can’t you just let me live in peace?”

“Because no son of mine is going to die alone.  And I want grandchildren.  Besides, there’s this old friend of mine who has a daughter named Maxine, and I think you two would hit it off-“

Bog had no intention of being set up on another blind date by his mother.  The last time he had, Lakeesha had been her name, and the night ended fast.  Ever since that fateful day, he had no desire to be in a relationship, even if Marianne was different and beautiful. 

 “I’m helping Marianne with her sister’s wedding,” said Bog, trying to quiet his mother.

“You know her name? This is wonderful! Why didn’t you say so?”

Bog could hear his mother dancing in place, probably already picking out a church.  He raised his eyebrows in annoyance before answering.

“Because I have no expectations from this other than to get paid.  I don’t want you to expect anything or try to stalk her like you have with other girls.”

“I was only trying to help.  If they couldn’t handle that, they had no business being with you.”

Bog laughed at the thought of all the meddling his mother did in his life, including visiting the girls’ homes and having tea with them.  He may live far away from her and see her only once a week, but she was a big presence in his life, the only family he had around.  Anyone he married would have to deal with her, and he did not want to inflict her upon anyone else.  Nor was he ready to have his heart be broken again.

“Nonetheless, this is just a little music practice.  Marianne has a list ready for us to learn.  I’m going tomorrow, and no, I’m not going to tell her that you say hello, before you ask.”

Bog smiled at the thought of his mother pouting that she could not poke her head in and invite Marianne over for snacks and tea.

“Fine, Bog, be that way.  Such thanks for the woman who carried you for over nine months in her womb,” she grumbled.

“Is there an actual reason for your call, Mother?”

“Nope!” chirped Griselda, “I just wanted to know if you had gotten the paper and called her.  I’m so glad you did! Bye now!”

Griselda hung up the phone while Bog stared in wonder at his.  He could not figure out his mother, and probably never would. 

Once Bog put away his phone, he went back to guitar practice.  It had been a while since he had played longer than twenty minutes, so the last couple days he had been getting back into it.  When it was finally time for the practice, he brought both instruments, just in case Marianne changed her mind and wanted him to play the violin.

While Bog drove, Marianne prepped the music room for habitation, as it had turned into a good storage area in recent months for the wedding.  Dawn was supposed to be helping, but really was not.

“So, has Sunny given you his requests yet?”

Dawn gave her biggest puppy dog eyes while Marianne waved the cuteness away.  Both Dawn and Sunny wanted certain songs to be played at their reception, to sing to the other, and Dawn had given her requests already. 

“I’m not telling.  Are you going to pick up stuff or just walk in a circle around it?” said Marianne in exasperation.

“I’m helping, see? So, are you ready to spend some quality time with your Goblin King?”

“Dawn, what did I tell you about calling him that?”

“Would you prefer Boggy-woggy Kingy-wingy?”

Marianne threw a pillow at her sister, which started an all-out pillow fight before Dawn gave up, her competitive side nowhere near as fierce as Marianne’s, nor her aim as keen.

“But seriously,” said Dawn when Marianne gave up at last, “are you sure that you’re okay doing this with him? I want you to enjoy yourself.  You’re maid of honor and already have a lot going on.  I don’t want this to ruin it for you.”

Marianne got up and hugged her sister.

“Thanks for the support, Sis.  If anything does happen, I promise to let you know.  But, based on what I know of him, I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

“So can I invite him to stay for dinner with us?” asked Dawn a little too eagerly.

Marianne shook her head and smiled.

“If he gets through today, then yes.  We’ll see.  Look for my signal.”

“Okay!” squealed Dawn.

A knock came to the door then, and both girls looked at each other in panic.  The room was still a mess.

“Dawn, you clean up, and I’ll get the door.”

“Wait, why do I have to clean all this up?” asked Dawn pouting.

“Because you instigated this pillow fight, and you make this room look better than I can, with all your interior decorator skills.”

“Only because I love you,” said Dawn with grin.

Marianne rushed to the door and saw that no one was there.  She was confused until she saw the violin and guitar cases sitting on her porch.  Then she heard a grunt from an unknown car in her driveway.

“Bog, do you need some help?”

Marianne went to the back of the car, where Bog was leaning over to pick something up.

“Marianne, is that you? No, I’m good, just taking music stands out of my-“

Bog backed up to the edge of the trunk and turned around, only to find Marianne in his personal space.  The next word died in his mouth as they stared at one another in the close quarters.  He finally spoke again. 

“You could have warned me you were there.  What are you, a ninja?”

“Everybody was kung-fu fight-ing!” rang out a shrill, female voice from the side of the car.

“I take it back,” said Bog gruffly as he looked at Dawn, “it’s a family trait.”

“Hi, Bog!” said Dawn waving and jumping up and down.

“Dawn,” mumbled Bog as he scratched the back of his head.

“Well, are you coming inside or what? Or are you gonna stare awkwardly and talk out here instead?”

Sunny drove by just then, honking his horn.  Dawn waved to Bog before bear-hugging her older sister and running to join Sunny for some wedding planning.

“Is Dawn always like that?” said Bog looking at the place where Dawn once was.

“Oh yes, there’s just so much energy.  Try living with her.”

Both smiled, and Marianne went to grab the instruments while Bog brought in the music stands and music he had.  Once they settled into a clutter-free music room, Marianne began to explain the basic set-up of the wedding day and how they fit in.

“Once the ceremony is over, all of the invited guests will come to the reception.  There’s an open bar and live music being played for all of it, as those two love going to concerts and singing.  We play for the first hour, and then the paid musicians come in.  We just have to learn enough stuff to cover about forty minutes, as the rest will probably be the happy couple giving an introduction to the song and saying how much they love the other.”

“That sounds really sappy,” said Bog with a scowl.

“I haven’t even begun to tell you about the decorations,” said Marianne half-joking, half-serious. 

“I don’t want to know.”

“Too bad, you are,” said Marianne with a laugh, “as I don’t want you to be shocked into silence by all the shades of red, orange, and pink that will be there.”

“Will our eyes be treated to an infinite number of hearts, rainbows, unicorns, and all that other romantic nonsense?”

“You bet,” said Marianne.

“Is there worse?” asked Bog in horror.

Marianne continued to speak of the decorations and enjoyed watching Bog’s face become even paler at the thought of so much red.

“There are far better ways to celebrate their love, or they could just not decorate,” said Bog when Marianne had finished.

“This is a labor of love for Dawn, and she is designing it all herself.  She does a little every day in preparation.”

“But still! There are better ways to spend that time, such as with Sunny.”

 Marianne laughed until she saw Bog’s confused face.

“Sorry about that, but you said exactly the same thing I said to Dawn when I found out what her decorating plans were.  It’s funny.”

After that, the two began their practice.  Marianne played some scales on her piano, while Bog played a few chords of “Smoke on the Water” on his guitar.  Marianne shot him a dirty look, and he grinned.

Once both were ready, Marianne began drilling him on what songs he knew, seeing if they shared any.  That led into a discussion about the range in which they would be playing.  Marianne knew that Dawn was a soprano, and Sunny a tenor, so it was a simple matter of transposing the music as needed.  They would eventually practice with both Sunny and Dawn, but not until they had the main songs down.

“So what’s the first song we have to practice? Please tell me it’s not ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’,” said Bog seriously.

“Don’t say those words out loud! The walls have ears,” whispered Marianne as she clapped her hands over his mouth.

Bog gave Marianne a helpless, confused look.  Then his face turned pink.  Marianne was surprised by the quiet until she realized that she was still touching Bog and pulled away.

“Sorry, but no, they haven’t requested it, and I’m hoping they don’t.  I might pull out my hair if I had to practice that for multiple hours a day.  I hate it.”

“I hate it more.  I’m glad I’m not the only one,” said Bog with relief, “as hearing that song makes me sick.  I can’t help it.  Really, anyone in love is a fool-“

“Rushing into something that will bind them to trouble and misery-” interrupted Marianne, inching closer to Bog in commiseration.

“For the rest of their lives,” added Bog, moving closer as well.

“All the lies, pain, and sorrow they could ask for,” said Marianne as she realized that she could now feel the heat radiating off of Bog’s body.  So close, and then she looked up.

For a moment, the two memorized the color of each other’s eyes as they shared in their hatred of love.  Bog cleared his throat, and Marianne moved away.

“I’m confused, Marianne.  If you hate love so much, why are you so supportive of Dawn?”

“I thought I already explained to you how they got together.”

“Yes, but I thought you would put up more of a fight to protect Dawn or something.  And you’re just letting her do whatever she wants.”

“Not true, on either count,” countered Marianne.

Bog gave her a disbelieving look, so Marianne started talking again.

“I’ve known Sunny for more than ten years.  I trust him with Dawn; I know that he would lay down his life for her.  It’s also really hard to say no to those two when you see what nonsense my father put them through, questioning both at every turn with his prejudices.  He’s never liked Sunny, and it took a long time for him to agree to the wedding.  I told them to just elope as our Dad will forgive them for wanting to be happy.”

“I didn’t realize your dad was such a stick in the mud,” said Bog, his tone soft.

“Ever since Mom died, he has been very stuck in his ways.  He used to be clueless about our love lives until Dawn started dating Sunny and I-“

Marianne did not want to say Roland’s name out loud.  Nor talk about him.

“What did you do, Marianne?”

“I refused to be with the guy my Dad thought best for me.  Simple as that.  Now, as for letting Dawn do whatever, believe me when I say that I have nixed about three other designs for decorations, all far worse than this one.”

“Worse? Not imagining it.  What’s our first song?”

“Our first song to play will be Queen’s ‘You’re My Best Friend’.  It’s funny because both requested that song.”

Bog chuckled at the idea of the two both trying to sing at the same time and realizing it later.  It would be funny at first and later sickeningly sweet.

Marianne gave the music to Bog, and then they began, first with Marianne singing and Bog playing a few chords until the right range was found.  Then she stopped singing.

“You don’t have to stop singing, Marianne.  You have a good voice.  Beautiful, actually.”

Marianne blushed before shaking her head.

“Thanks, Bog.  I need to practice piano, though, as I’m rusty.  I can sing later.”

Marianne had no desire to sing and had not since to any great extent since breaking up with Roland.  She just did not feel as though she had a reason to sing, and she did not want to talk about it more than necessary.  Dawn was the only exception to her rule of no singing, and she planned to keep it to a minimum. 

After they practiced and got a good start on that song, the two began the next song.  They were twenty minutes into practicing it when Marianne got up suddenly and went to the kitchen. 

Bog followed, wondering why she left without a word.  He walked into the kitchen to see Marianne put on her music, and “Barracuda” came on.  She stood there, holding a kitchen knife in her left hand like a blade, as though poised to fight, muttering about an “Evil Roland”. 

“Marianne? Are you alright?”

Most love songs made Marianne feel ill because of the silly things that they represented, as well as reminded her of the times she had been stupid and spent with Roland.  All she wanted to do was run away from the music and punch Roland for being the lying, cheating, chattering pig he was.

“I’m fine, I promise.  But I just can’t practice those silly love songs for very long.”

“I didn’t want to, either.  You’d think that people would have had enough of silly love songs.  Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs, and I say we don’t have to, unless it’s for your sister.”   

Marianne smiled and giggled at his phrasing before reaching to turn the music off, still not facing Bog.  Bog recalled hearing the name from Marianne at the renaissance festival, and then he made the connection to shiny helmet jerk. 

“C’mon, Tough Girl.  Let’s take a break and do some non-love songs.  Just live and let die.”

Marianne turned around and smiled a genuine smile.  If nothing else, the two could connect over music.  It made Bog feel warm inside for reasons he could or would not explain fully to himself.  He had helped her, and he found that liked doing so.

After an hour of dueling with their respective instruments, one ending on a chord and the next picking up with that for a different song, the pair went back to practicing more songs for the wedding.  Marianne found the love songs more bearable when Bog did facial impressions of Thang while playing and mouthing the words.  Shorter breaks were taken after that, but they still managed to make progress with a couple of songs before Dawn and Sunny came home, Sunny carrying a delicious-smelling pot of food.  

“Hey, you music fiends! Ready to eat?” asked Dawn upon seeing the smile on Marianne’s face.

“You bet,” said Marianne, grabbing Bog’s wrist and dragging him to the table so that they could eat right away.  Marianne was famished.  Bog let himself be dragged, the promise of food too tempting to pass up. 

“So? How did your first practice go?” asked Dawn eagerly.

“Well, we didn’t punch each other,” said Marianne.

“And we have discovered that we share similar interests in music,” added Bog.

“And Bog should be forced to lip-sync to all love songs, just so I can handle them,” finished Marianne.

The pair looked at each other, then at Sunny and Dawn’s surprised faces, and then back at one another, laughing at the couple’s confusion.

The rest of the meal passed by well, Dawn and Sunny taking their turn to talk about what they had accomplished once Bog and Marianne made it clear that they had made progress.  When Bog left, Marianne went ahead with the instruments to open the door for Bog.  Dawn grabbed Bog at the front door.

“Did my sister sing today?”

“A little,” said Bog, raising an eyebrow.

“Wonderful! And did she act odd at all when you worked on some of the songs?”

“By odd, do you mean her getting up and leaving, putting on other songs?”

“Yep, that’s my sister,” said Dawn with a frown.

“She only did it once, and we talked after.  Then I tried to help by making strange faces at her while we played certain songs.”

Dawn clapped her hands and hugged Bog.  Marianne might one day sing again; she was sure of it!

“I haven’t seen my sister this happy in so long.  Thanks, Bog.  You’re welcome to visit anytime.  Just don’t tell Marianne I said that.”

Bog returned the hug and left a waving Dawn.  Marianne was sitting on the edge of the trunk when he got to his car.

“What did my sister say?” she asked.

“She wanted to know how you were during rehearsal, if you were handling the songs alright.  She knows we handle it well together.”

Marianne reached out and took one of Bog’s hands, a smile on her face.

“Thanks.  I want to do this for her.  The more we do this, the easier it will be,” she said, squeezing his hand.

“Together, we can overcome our aversion to love songs and just make fun of them always,” said Bog, sticking out his tongue one last time at Marianne.

Both laughed, eyes linked on one another.  Bog wanted to go since it was late, but he felt bad with Marianne holding his hand.  He squirmed a little before she noticed and let go.  Another awkward look was shared between them as Bog got into the car, and then he was gone.

Bog did not want to admit it out loud (especially near his mother), but he knew that their music practices were going to turn into more.  In that one day, she had let him in to see her hurt, and she had accepted his comfort, even if it was not in the most traditional way.  It also occurred to him that she still had not told him about Roland.  He planned to fix that at the next meeting. 

As Marianne watched Bog leave, she thought back to what he had last said.

“I don’t think we’ll ever completely get over our aversion to those songs, but I’m all for replacing all my bad memories with ones of him.”     

Chapter Text

“Long, long, time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile.”

Never had words rung so true for Marianne.  Once upon a time, she had loved to sing.  She sang all the time with Roland, and then she stopped.  They were ruined by Roland.  She hated Roland for it, but the music still hurt more.

It was in those moments that Marianne selfishly wished that Dawn was not getting married, so she would not have to deal with all the ache that came with prepping the love songs.  Her only comfort for the longest time was that Dawn had the best, most loving guy there was.  Since meeting a fellow love-hater in Bog, things had changed a little for Marianne.

Dawn stood at the entrance to the kitchen, meaning to ask Marianne what time Bog was coming over.  However, Dawn was enjoying watching her sister sway to Don McClean’s bittersweet song too much to disturb her.  Marianne still listened to music after her break-up with Roland, but she never sang, and rarely danced in her unique way that she only did while cleaning the home or was at a party.  Usually, Marianne’s face was expressionless, but not anymore.  Small changes kept coming.

When the song was over, Dawn asked, “When is Boggy coming over?”

Marianne jumped and hissed as she turned.  “What?”

“When is Boggy coming over today?”

“Bog.  He’s coming soon,” said Marianne, “so be ready.” 

“Could you give me a sign or something for when I should go? I want to make sure I give you the alone time you need -“

It was then that Marianne’s cell phone started to ring.  She looked at the callerID and laughed.

“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear,” said Marianne with a smile.  Then, she surprised Dawn by giving Dawn a pointed look and singing, just like she had once upon a time before the Fateful Day, “Oh, oh, telephone line, give me some time.  I’m living in twilight.”

After that, Marianne answered Bog, some hint of the song still in her voice as she said, “Hello.  How are you? Have you been alright?”

Marianne could hear the smile in his voice as he continued in the same strain as her, “Hey.  How you feelin’? I’m just fine, other than running late.  Can the practice wait a few minutes?”

“No, Bog, it can’t.  I turn to stone while you are gone,” deadpanned Marianne.

Both Bog and Marianne laughed as they seemed to share an inside joke.  Dawn gave up on understanding the relationship between them and decided that she needed to talk to Sunny.  She waved good-bye to Marianne, and called Sunny to let him know that she was heading over.

Fifteen minutes later, Bog pulled into the driveway, listening to Steppenwolf’s “Magic Carpet Ride”.  Some part of him wondered if he bringing up Roland today would turn their calm practice into a wild ride, full of emotion and old hurts.  But all the same, Bog wanted to see Marianne smile, just like before.  If he knew what hurt, he would not bring it up.

Soon, Marianne was outside, ready to help bring instruments inside.  Bog gladly took the help, electing to grab a large pot from his front seat as well.

“What’s in there?” asked Marianne, trying to smell the contents.

“That’s our dinner tonight; it’s the reason I’m late,” confided Bog.  “I felt bad after taking your food at last practice, so I decided to make enough for all four of us. It’s a family stew.”

“Stew?” came Marianne’s skeptical response. 

“Yes, stew.  It’s from my mother’s side of the family,” replied Bog as he shook his head, as though it were obvious.  “Mother loves her stew.  It’s the only thing she took the time to show me how to make.”

Marianne walked into the house, her face still skeptical.  Bog huffed and continued after her.  She would understand when she tried his stew.

“You in an ELO kind of mood today?” asked Bog when they had dropped everything inside the house.  Marianne nodded as she helped set up the practice with Bog.

“I’m always in an ELO mood.  They’re my favorite band,” said Marianne proudly.

“Good! I’m glad we share the same interest in bands.  We’ll have to compare favorite songs at some point,” said Bog getting excited as went over to stand in front of Marianne.

Marianne’s face broke out in a grin upon hearing his declaration.  She leaned on the backside of the sofa and bent her head back so that she could smile at him, nodding in excitement.  Bog leaned over the front of the sofa at an awkward angle and placed his hands next to Marianne’s, leaning down so that his chin could almost touch the flyaway bangs on Marianne’s face.  He grinned back, glad to have another shared interest. 

For several moments, the two smiled like oblivious idiots.  Bog realized their close proximity first, so he tried to move back as he spoke.

So, what are our plans for practice today?” asked Bog, wanting to change the topic.

Marianne noticed the closeness and started backing up.  To cover up her nervousness and feelings of awkwardness, she started counting quickly on her fingers all the things she wanted to do that practice, much to Bog’s increasing concern in her belief in their ability to practice.

“Today, we’re learning the other two songs needed for the beginning of the reception.  Sunny wants to sing Chicago’s ‘Just You N Me’, and Dawn wants to sing Stevie Wonder’s ‘You Are the Sunshine of My Life’.  Once we get a good handle on those two, we’ll mix in ‘You’re My Best Friend’, and then the other songs from last week.  After that, I’ve got a list of other songs I think we should start-“

Bog thought they would need more practice time, and once she got past the individual songs, Marianne started speaking even faster. 

Still caught up in thoughts of sharing the same favorite band, Bog interrupted Marianne and said, “You gotta slow down, slow down, sweet talkin’ woman.”

Marianne laughed as she headed toward the piano.  As she sat down, she pointed a finger at Bog and started playing the first few notes of “Don’t Bring Me Down”.

“Hey, Bog, don’t slow me down,” replied Marianne as she lifted her head over the piano to punctuate the first few words.  “We got lots to do today.  I got faith in us.”

“I’m glad one of us does,” muttered Bog as he began to tune his instrument.

The two made it through the requested songs without too much trouble, Marianne singing only as needed.  Bog kept an eye on Marianne’s mood once they moved into the other songs from the previous week.  About halfway through the second non-requested song, Marianne’s face contorted slightly, and she was starting to squirm.  Bog requested a hand break, which Marianne quickly agreed to.

Marianne rushed off to the kitchen, getting some water and turning on the radio.  Once she finished her water, Bog decided that now was a good time to ask about Roland.  After checking on the stew, he spoke.

“So, Tough Girl, when are you going to tell me more about this loser named Roland that’s ruined music for you?”

At first, Marianne just chewed on her lip in various places, trying to stall for time.  She had said she would tell him, and she did really want Bog to know.  He deserved to know the rest, and he seemed like he would understand since he felt the same about love.  The problem was that she did not know where to begin, and she did not want to relive the pain of the time.  It had been hard telling Dawn, but she felt it was necessary after Dawn became engaged to Sunny.  Sunny knew because Dawn had asked if she could tell him, but otherwise, no one knew.  Marianne’s father was infatuated with the idea of having Roland as son-in-law and thought him perfect, so there was no way Marianne would be believed, as sad as it was.  His pushing Roland at her multiple times after the break-up was all the confirmation that Marianne needed.

When Bog saw how uncomfortable Marianne was, he put his hands out in front of himself and started to speak, trying to convince Marianne to wait and not do it until she was ready.  But, right after he started talking, the radio started a new, familiar song to both.

“So now it's getting late, for those who hesitate, got no one.

But they don't understand, and no one hears the sound.

It's like a waterfall; it's an illusion.

Love is all, waterfall; love is what you are.

Pulls you in, takes you down; it's a sad affair.

But you know as you hold back the power there without the friends

And lovers you could never go on living.”

That was all the encouragement that Marianne needed to take Bog’s outstretched hand, effectively quieting him.  She led him to the kitchen table and indicated for him to sit.  Bog sat next to her, looking worried.  He tried one more time.

“Marianne, if you don’t want to tell me, don’t feel as though you have to,” said Bog, looking her in the eye.

“I do want to tell you, though.  I’ve wanted to tell you.  It’s some story,” replied Marianne, gripping the edges of the kitchen chair’s seat, keeping eye contact with him for a moment before looking down.

When Marianne looked up again, she kept her gaze locked on Bog’s blue eyes, to make things easier.  Focusing on him made it a little easier.

“So, you already know the basics of my sordid history with Roland.  I met him a few years ago, and I thought he was the most handsome guy around.  For reasons unknown to me, he asked me out.  After that, we dated for a year, and then we got engaged.  We did everything together, singing, Renaissance Festivals, karaoke at bars, parties, etc.  I gave so much to him to please him.  He always had a better idea of how I should act as a proper lady, so I stopped doing certain things because he told me to.  I gave up fencing, for example.  I should’ve realized it then.”

“Realized what?” asked Bog curiously.

“That any man that asks me to change doesn’t want me for who I am or truly loves me,” sighed Marianne.  “It wasn’t-“

“Real,” finished Bog slowly.

“Yeah,” said Marianne, smiling at him for a moment and pulling her hands off of the chair, into her lap.  “It wasn’t real.  But I did all those things with him, and did everything asked, to fit in and be perfect.  I thought it was perfect.  Sure I had doubts, as rumors circulated about him being good with the ladies, but there was always that small part of me that doubted that he could love me, with how good he was.”

“But you’re so much better,” said Bog, ducking his head for making such a comment.  This was not the time for him to speak of his admiration (and only admiration, he reminded himself) for her.

Marianne gave a sad smile before continuing.

“I didn’t realize that until later.  But anyways, Roland and I planned our wedding.  He spent lots of time with me and the bridesmaids making sure that everything was perfect.  Then, the day of the wedding took place, and I found him in our honeymoon suite, naked with one of the bridesmaids.  I had wanted to give him his boutonniere, and I ended up throwing that and slamming the door in his face.  Needless to say, I called off the wedding.”

“And he’s been trying to get back with you since?” asked Bog incredulously, trying to figure out who in their right mind would do that.

“Oh yes,” grumbled Marianne, “ever since.  He said it was a ‘misunderstanding’, and has been telling my dad that so that he can get more information about me.  He keeps following me.  I’ve seen him flirt with other girls, so he clearly hasn’t changed.  Not that I’d give him another chance.  I didn’t meet him until after my dad changed his will, giving me a larger inheritance.  He always talked about all the changes he wanted to make to his family’s home, and how when we were richer, we’d do it just the way we wanted it.  I can’t believe I bought into his crap.”

Marianne stamped her foot on the floor in frustration, upset with herself.  Bog cautiously placed a hand on her arm, calming her down at once.  She looked up at him, her eyes seeking his.

“Thanks.  I needed that.  But ever since then, things have changed.  I don’t trust men, or people for that matter.  I can’t.  The worst part is all the memories of going to certain places with him.  I can’t escape him, even if physically for a short time.  He took me so many places, and I can remember laughing with him, or just doing cutesy couple stuff.  I almost didn’t go back to the Renaissance festival, but Dawn convinced me otherwise.”

“But you still are hesitant with music?” asked Bog, trying to understand.

“Yes.  Roland loves to sing.  He insisted we do lots of duets.  That is why to this day I won’t listen to Elvis’ ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’, because of Roland.  We sang that to each other so much.  I want to erase that song from my memory.  Then he had the nerve to sing ‘C’mon Marianne’ to me the first time he came back, as though that would help his case.  He keeps twirling his hair like a pretty boy and singing, trying to woo me back.  It’s frustrating as he sings, and he just keeps on ruining more songs for me.  I don’t want to remember his stupid face and voice anymore.”

“That sucks,” said Bog, squeezing Marianne’s arm. 

“I’m in a constant state of lookout, it seems.  But I’ve learned my lesson from it about love, how it lies to you.  Now, I keep my guard up.”

“I’m the same way, in more ways than you realize,” said Bog, pulling away from Marianne as he remembered his own problems with love.

“What do you mean?” asked Marianne, confused by Bog pulling away. 

She moved her chair closer to him and reached out a hand to him as he had done for her.  He kept away from the outstretched hand, and she realized that he was trying to avoid physical touch.  Looking back on their previous interactions, he had always been like that, so she kept in her seat, waiting to see if he would say any more on the subject.  She did not have to wait long.

Bog kept his eyes away from Marianne, but he spoke clearly and calmly. 

“I fell in love with a girl once.  We dated for a short time, and then I got overly anxious and proposed.  She rejected me, telling me I was delusional and hideous.  We had never been very affectionate with one another, but I found out why after that fateful day.  That was when I realized that I was too hideous to be loved.”

“You’re not hideous,” said Marianne.  She emphasized her words by reaching out and touching his shoulder, making him cringe slightly.  “A little tall and dark, but there’s plenty of girls out there that find that attractive.  She’s clearly crazy.”

Bog grimaced at her later words, trying to smile.  Her earlier words comforted him a little, but she was just being nice.  That was all it was, he told himself.

“Crazy or not, I pushed too soon and scared her off.  She’s the only one who’s ever shown something close to interest in me.  Poor, sweet thing.”

“It’s okay, Bog.  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  I learned that after dealing with Roland.  Beauty is more than skin deep.  It’s what’s on the inside that counts.  You’ve got that; Roland doesn’t.  He’s so in love with himself that I think Carly Simon must’ve met Roland when she created that song.  It fits him so well, even if I’ll never sing it around him for fear of making his ego even bigger than it already is.”

Laughing, Bog continued in a similar strain, “But I’m sure that’s not the only song you’d use for him.”

“Oh no,” said Marianne standing up, “if I could him down long enough, I’d step on his precious little nose and sing ‘These Boots Are for Walking’.  I’d enjoy that.  But my favorite one is the one you might have heard me singing last week.”

Bog stood up as well, trying to get feeling back into his feet.

“You mean, the part where ‘Evil Woman’ becomes ‘Evil Roland’?”

“Oh yes, that song.  He’s evil.”

“But I thought I was evil,” said Bog, putting a fist on his chest in pride.

Marianne looked Bog up and down for a moment before saying, “Nah, you’re just trouble.”

That comment made Bog grin.  Clearing his throat, he started singing the words made famous by Elvis, “If you’re looking for trouble, you came to the right place.  If you’re looking for trouble, just look right in my face.”

“Oh, I believe you,” said Marianne.  “You’ve been nothing but trouble since I met you.”

“And it’s all in the name of love,” said Bog with a sneer.  When “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” came on the radio, his sneer only deepened.  “Why would anyone subject themselves to the lies and pain of love? Are they crazy?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe because people are strange?” asked Marianne.

Bog nodded, starting to walk toward the music room.  When he made it to his guitar, he played the first few bars of the Doors’ “People are Strange”.  Marianne applauded him from the kitchen.

“Yep, I think that sums up people’s strange fascination with love,” said Marianne, reaching for the radio to turn it off.  But just as she was about to, another song came on, this time being “Love Is Strange”.  After hearing the first verse, Marianne added, “Well, I think the radio gets the last word on this topic.  Love is strange, just like people are.”

After that, the pair started practicing in earnest, Bog lip-syncing with the songs again, encouraging Marianne to actually sing more.  It worked.  She sang, if only to get more exaggerated responses from Bog. 

It was during their next break that Marianne decided to vent out more of her frustration with love songs.  Playing certain ones for Sunny and Dawn were fine, but it was all too much for her to take, the love that shined all around her from all the songs they played. 

“Do people really pay attention to what is being said in some of these songs? I feel like they are some of the simplest, silliest songs around.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Tough Girl,” said Bog stretching out and heading for the sofa. 

Marianne soon joined him on the sofa, and one song immediately came to mind.  The bad part was that it was true in a way for her, as Bog had been on her mind when she woke up that morning.  It helped to rail against it.

“Yeah.  I mean, think about ‘You Were on My Mind’.  It just repeats those certain phrases over and over again.  Worse, it’s kind of creepy to be thinking about a person that much.”

“Oh yes,” said Bog, looking away for a moment as he considered the fact that Marianne had been on his mind as well that morning.  “I think it’s bad, but there’s far worse.  Just think about ‘Somebody to Love’.”

“Ugh, you’re right,” said Marianne, cringing.  “Dawn says it’s so deep, but really, half of the song is spent repeating that one phrase over and over again, as though he’s some kind of mindless robot, needing somebody to love.  No thanks.  And if it’s not repeating the same phrase constantly, then the song is just super sappy, like ‘Love is All Around’.  Now that song drives me nuts.  I think the only time I enjoyed the song was when Love Actually used the song for Christmas, which is just as perfect, showing it to be the super sappy crap that it is.” 

“And really, that whole movie is awful romantically speaking, for all the broken relationships and whatnot going on,” said Bog, excited to talk about movies.  “The honest trailer for it was right.  It’s honest about what love is, complicated, and how painful it is.”

“Which is another conversation for another day,” said Marianne.  “Some people like it for all the complicated twists and turns, but it doesn’t make sense to me.  But don’t get me started on movies.”

“So now’s not the time to bring up the other big song in that movie that deserves mentioning for what it advocates?” asked a put-out Bog.

“Which one is that?” answered Marianne, trying to recall and failing from doing a good job of blotting it out of her mind.

“The one by the Beatles,” said Bog, as though it were totally obvious.  “Who can forget their rendition of ‘All You Need is Love’?”

“Ha! I did forget about that one.  But that’s because I tried to live like that.  And what did it get me? A broken heart.”

At that, Bog heard Marianne start to hum “I’ll Never Fall in Love Again” as she took a fist and slammed it into her open hand.  Bog nodded in silent agreement at the song choice.

When Marianne was finished, she looked up at Bog, and he elbowed her, trying to get her out of the pensive mood.

“I know a good one for us, Tough Girl.  I think you know this one,” he said, a smirk coming onto his face.  He sang, “You love her, but she loves him.”

By the time he got to the refrain for “Love Stinks”, both were singing it loudly, enjoying themselves as they yelled at love.  At the end, both were panting and grinning.

“We need to do that more often,” said Bog at last.  “That felt good.” 

“It’s a good change not dealing with love like that,” replied Marianne.  “I feel free.”

Bog started echoing Marianne’s phrase, repeating it a few times before Marianne started humming along, and then both started singing that song, though in a much-exaggerated manner, with large, sweeping gestures with their hands for freedom as they sang along.

“That’s another silly song,” laughed Marianne.  “And oh, there are others.  So many others.  I just think about songs like Queen’s ‘Play the Game’, and I wonder why anyone would submit themselves to love.  Why play that game? It’s not fun.  At least we have fun making fun of everything.”

“I’m not sure, Tough Girl.  I wish I understood.  Love is weird.  One moment, you’re low and singing ‘People Are Strange’, and the next you’re in a state of brainwashed happiness, singing ‘Hello, I Love You’.  It’s odd and complicated.”

At the mention of the second song by the Doors, Bog found himself singing part of it to emphasize his point.  It also helped that he enjoyed their music in general, but he was sure Marianne felt similarly.

At first, he sang it to Marianne with odd facial expressions, making her laugh.  By the second refrain, he used significantly less facial expressions and focused on the smile that slowly made its way onto Marianne’s face.  By the third refrain, he had no idea that he was now just singing it to Marianne because he wanted to, as some part of him does find her very attractive.  He lowered his voice as he sang the last two lines, the last set of hellos to her almost a caress as he leaned in without realizing it.

When he finished singing, both were staring at one another, lips so close to touching.  Bog once again realized their closeness and pulled back, almost afraid to touch Marianne and break the connection that they had.

As he pulled away, Marianne seemed to be more hurt by it, a deep frown coming onto her face.  Frustrated by her reaction, Bog thought about something else he could sing to make her see the need for distance, and soon, an idea came. 

“I came along to see your face,

But the only thing I got from you

Was telling me it’s fantasy,

That you would always be with me.”

Marianne gave Bog a look as he continued, she not happy about him singing a song about being alone like that.  As long as she was around, she would be there for him.  She responded back with a song of her own, “Livin’ Thing”.  As she got to the part in the second verse about the worst day, she eyed Bog, trying to make him listen and understand.  He may have felt like he was alone, or that things were bad.  But, that was not the case anymore with her there. 

When Marianne finished with that song, the two sat in silence, absorbing the other’s presence.  Marianne did not often feel such a connection to another person, but with Bog, it was different.  It was easy to sing, and even easier to understand him.  She did not want to punch him, and he accepted her as she was, for all her oddities and differences.  He encouraged it.  That alone was enough to recommend him to her.  In that moment, Marianne knew that they would be good friends.  It was okay to want to spend time with friends, to care about them.  And now knowing what had happened to Bog, she wanted him to know that he was not a hideous monster.  She did reach for his hand, and she was pleased to see him take it without cringing.  It was a start.

Bog had many mixed feelings about Marianne as she took his hand.  He wanted that connection to her, which was rare.  What they shared was different from anything he had ever experienced before , and he wanted to know what it was.  Some part of him was afraid that this could turn into more, but the rest of him was selfish and wanted Marianne to be there for him.  She reached out to him in a way no one else did beside his mother, and she understood him.  In such a short time, she had already given him so much, between friendship and trust.  He wanted to be worthy of it.

The two sat on the sofa until Dawn opened the front door.  Once they heard her perky voice, they pulled apart, but still looked into one another’s eyes, seeking out the mutual feeling that both had in their eyes.  They met the engaged couple in the kitchen, where Dawn was smelling the stew.

“Mmm, what’s this? It smells amazing!”

“That would be my mother’s family stew.  I brought it here to share with you since you fed me last time,” said Bog.

Dawn proceeded to go up and Bog, who took it as well and stiffly as possible.  Afterward, Sunny came up and shook his hand, thanking him. 

Dinner was quick, as everyone was hungry.  The stew went over well, and all praised Bog for his cooking, making him blush at least once when Marianne complimented him.  After dinner, Bog left, ready to go home.  Marianne walked him out to his car, thanking him for another good practice. 

When Bog was inside the car, he saluted Marianne and then rested his hand on the edge of the completely open car window.  “Until next time, Tough Girl.  I’ll be ready to take on the rest of the songs you have in mind.”

“You better be,” teased Marianne.  “The wedding is closer than you think, and time is short.”

“Is that meant to be a reference to something?” asked Bog, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, sort-of, to a movie you haven’t seen yet.  Don’t worry about it,” tapping his hand with her own.  “I’ll show it to you some night.  Then you’ll realize that I wasn’t trying to insult you when we first met.”

“Whatever you say, Tough Girl,” he said, grabbing her hand and grasping it for a moment.  After that, he let go and drove home.  As he drove home, he considered all that had been accomplished at practice, but his mind kept going back to them singing together loudly to “Love Stinks”.  That had been an incredible feeling.

Inside her home, Marianne put on the radio again and helped dry and put away the dishes that Dawn and Sunny had already cleaned. 

“Marianne, I talked to Sunny about this today, and we have agreed on something.  I just want to run it by you first,” said Dawn, turning around facing her sister.

“What is it?” asked Marianne, a little concerned.

“It seems to us that you and Bog get along well.  I want to invite him to stay for the whole ceremony and reception.  He seems nice, and if he makes the whole day more bearable for you, then I want to include him.  Are you okay with me doing that?”

Marianne did not respond at first, surprised that Dawn would do this so early, but eventually she agreed.  She was not sure if Bog would want to, but they could always try.

As Marianne got ready to turn off the radio for the night and go to bed in preparation for work, one last Electric Light Orchestra song came on, making her pause for a moment to listen and smile and as she considered how it applied to her and Bog.  When “Shine a Little Love” finished, she turned off the radio. 

Dawn came back inside from seeing Sunny out.  She inwardly jumped for joy at seeing the content smile on Marianne’s face. 

“Oh, Marianne, speaking of music and receptions, I had a random question about Boggy.  Do you think he knows how to dance?”

Marianne puzzled for a moment and then said, “I’m not sure, but I’ll make sure to ask him if you’re that worried.  He doesn’t seem like the dancing type, though.”

“Thanks, Sis,” said Dawn with an impish grin.  Dawn had many happy thoughts of her sister and Bog dancing together later on in the reception that she wanted to have happen. 

Chapter Text

"Is that-"

"Yes. Yes, it's David Bowie, singing some of his best songs ever," said Marianne, grinning as she brought out a bucket of popcorn and sitting beside Bog on the sofa. 

In the background, a computer-animated barn owl flew about, and Bowie crooned about forever, how it was not long at all. Now that they had been practicing for almost two months and had a good grip on all the songs, Marianne felt that they deserved a night off.  This way, she could finally show him Labyrinth, and she could find out if he was interested in attending the wedding.

"I'll be glad to see this infernal movie at last. I want to understand why you and your sister keep thinking of me in reference to it," grumbled Bog, making Marianne chuckle. 

"You'll see the similarities in no time; your name plays a prominent role later as well," said Marianne, handing him the bucket. "This has extra butter."

"How'd you know that's my favorite way to eat popcorn?" asked Bog, surprised. 

"Um, well, that's my favorite, too," she replied, blinking rapidly. "That's unexpected."

"According to your sister, not really," he returned, digging in. "Jennifer Connelly couldn't act at all at that age." 

"That's part of the movie's charm. Just watch, would you?" asked Marianne, resisting the urge to hum. "You'll miss the good stuff."

Bog shrugged.

"I was hoping you wouldn't be like my sister in that respect," muttered Marianne, making Bog elbow her as she put down the popcorn. "Hey!"

"I am not like Dawn. She just flutters about like some fairy princess-"

"Shhh!"

"But it's true! Even you agree with me. I see that grin," said Bog, only to get an elbow aimed for his side. He dodged easily and took hold of her instead, sending her off-balance and falling against him.

"Bog! You're missing everything. If you don't shut up, I'll make you quiet," she threatened, glaring at him.

Bog couldn't help but notice that she didn't object to being close to him after all their music sessions. More importantly, he felt comfortable in close proximity to her, even liking that small bit of contact, to the point of wanting more. It was a welcome novelty, so he gave in to her demands, letting go of her arm and mimed zipping his lips closed.  His movie watching partner seemed pleased before scooting next to him to share the popcorn more easily. 

The silence didn't last long before Bog was shouting, "I didn't know Bowie acted in this, too!"

"Shut up, Bog!" cried Marianne, punching his upper arm. "I like him."

When Bowie said, “Don't defy me,” Bog raised an eyebrow and glanced at Marianne, who was studiously avoiding him. "This is how you guessed my last name, didn’t you? You think I'm like him?"

"Just … wait, will you?" asked Marianne, pointing at the screen as she avoided him more.  Bog huffed. 

When Sarah met Hoggle the dwarf, Bog chuckled. "That's Stuff, or something she would do."

"I need to meet him," said Marianne, her eyes finding his.

"Her, and you already met her at the Renaissance festival. She recorded our little battle with the sword and staff," said Bog, smiling and remembering the fight that ended in a draw.

"Oh! Well, I'd like to get to know her more, then," said Marianne. "We can talk soon, I promise." Once Sarah was lost in the Labyrinth, Marianne turned to Bog. "You were saying before?"

"You seriously think I'm like that Jareth guy?" asked Bog, skeptically. 

"Dawn does," she hedged.

"But you said that without her at our first meeting, and you were talking about me more at the Renaissance festival.  You’re encouraging her," he replied, making Marianne look away. "Just because I'm that tall and threatening?"

"It’s certainly not your love of glitter,” deadpanned Marianne, making both of them laugh.  When they calmed down, she added sheepishly, “I prefer that you command attention in any room. You have a regal presence, just like him, and your accent is hot-"

She clapped a hand over her mouth and blushed as Bog gave her a meaningful look. Suddenly it made sense why she put up with him. A small part of him hoped that she liked more than just that about him, seeing as they were so similar when it came to music and their hatred of love.  Now that he had had more time around her, his admiration was quickly developing into something deeper. She was attractive and funny, and he liked everything he knew about her. Now, he really wanted to know more about her and her life, but he was afraid to, lest he went too fast again.  He had made that mistake once; he wouldn’t do it again.  

He had heard from Marianne that Dawn was an interior decorator who used to work with Marianne and her father, so he was intrigued to know what Marianne did, if it was somehow related.  He had just gotten a new client, and it would involve creating multiple designs of buildings. He had faith in Thang to create structurally sound buildings, but to make them look good? To appear better than others out there? Bog was at a loss.  

“Sunny’s favorite song is coming up.  Behold the Goblin King, the better babysitter compared to Sarah,” said Marianne with a sardonic look, pointing to the image of a castle.  

When Bowie stopped singing and dancing to “Magic Dance”, Bog raised an eyebrow and turned to face his companion.  She felt his movement and turned, eager to see his reaction.

“I’m beginning to question Sunny’s judgement now,” said Bog, making Marianne burst out in laughter.  

“It gets better,” she replied mischievously, taking more popcorn.

Bog enjoyed the movie, mostly because he kept finding his friends in the movie.  Brutus was like Ludo, and Thang was the brave Sir Didymus, all eager to do the bidding of their king.  He hated the fire gang, and he was not happy when he discovered what the Bog of Eternal Stench was.  

“Not all bogs are terrible like this,” he sniffed.  “I know several terrific ones.”

“You’ll have to show me some time.  Hopefully they’re all lacking in people,” said Marianne, peeking at him.  “I think they’d be better enjoyed alone.”

“They are.  You’d love them, I think,” he said quietly, touching her hand briefly.

Marianne thrilled just a little that he was venturing to do more willingly and didn’t cringe at all.

“I’d like to think so.”

Their eyes held just a fraction longer, until she heard the saxophone in the background score.  At that, her whole body perked up, and Bog looked to see what interested her.

“This is my favorite part of the movie, but you can’t tell anyone, ” whispered Marianne. “I’ve always had a weakness for this scene, ever since I was young when I first saw this.”

When Sarah was transported to an enchanted ballroom in a big, white, fluffy dress, Bog’s jaw dropped.  It was everything Marianne wasn’t and didn’t seem to like.

“For years, I wanted to be swept off my feet and find someone who would dance with me like that.  When Roland did so, I thought he was the one,” she explained, making a sad face. “I was ready to be just like Sarah to hold on to that dream.  It’s all a broken, beautiful dream now, just like it is here.”

As the ballroom sequence ended with Sarah breaking through it, Bog marveled at all he learned. He wanted to be just as open with her.  It took him a few moments to finally find something to admit.

“I’m a horrid dancer.  I always wanted to be good, to impress a girl, but I’ve had no reason or desire to ever since That Fateful Day.”

Marianne turned her whole body to face him, attention on the movie lost.  Her gaping mouth finally closed when she asked, “Do you want to practice tonight? It might be useful for the reception.  I’d be willing to show you.”

The idea of touching others had always made Bog run away from such ideas, besides the association with love, but this offer was too tempting.  It was more time with Marianne, doing something that he wanted to do, and she liked. He wanted to impress her far more than he had any other woman in his life.

“If we’re doing practicing for tonight, then yes.  I’d like that.”

Marianne’s face lit up, and he wanted to make her always be like that.  The rest of the movie passed on until the end, at the final confrontation between Sarah and Jareth. 

“Dawn believes that Jareth really loves Sarah,” said Marianne as Sarah said her final, magic words.

“Do you?” he asked, almost in a whisper.  He was a little afraid to know.

“Some days, yes.  Other days, no,” she replied, shrugging and not wanting to talk about her complicated feelings involving the Goblin King when he was so close by.  “So, you ready to dance?”

“No waltzing,” he warned as he got up.

The two made their way to a small balcony on the back side of the home theater room.  With the floor-length curtains and glass doors pushed out, there was just barely enough space for them to dance to the music.

“I’ll make it easy, like breathing,” she said, grabbing her phone and choosing a song.  “We’ll just sing along, and you follow my lead.”

“You’re actually going to sing?” he asked, hating himself in the next moment as she paled at being asked to do so.  “You do need to, and I like your voice. I won’t tell Dawn.” 

“Just because it’s you,” she replied, putting down the phone and showing him how to hold her.  When they were in position, she started the music.

Bog didn’t know what to expect for dancing music, but it certainly wasn’t Van Morrison’s “Brown-Eyed Girl”.  

It was loud, joyful, and brought back so many childhood memories that he got swept up into the song at once.  Both sang at the top of their lungs as she pushed and pulled him in various directions. The first time he bumped into the balcony ledge, Marianne apologized.  The second and third time, she felt terrible. By the fourth, it turned into a game as she explained different dance moves while avoiding the ledge, alas with little success.  Bog was too big for the tiny balcony.

“Marianne,” he said, voice deeper and accent thicker with emotion, “as much as I’m enjoying this, I’m feeling claustrophobic.  Could we … go outside somewhere and continue?”

She bit her lip and tried to decide what to do.  The distrusting part of her said not to go anywhere with him, but the rest of her raged against the idea at once.  She knew him; she could trust him.  

“Do you have anywhere in mind? There are too many people around here to attempt it in my backyard.”

“As a matter of fact, I do.  There’s a park close to where I live; it’ll be deserted and has a large field. With the full moon we have, we should see one another well.  It’s a twenty minute drive away,” he said, moving indoors. “Want to follow me in your car?”

“We can just take my car together,” she said, deciding to take a leap of faith.

When they arrived at the park, Marianne was instantly jealous.  “Yours is so much wilder than any of mine. Ours are too orderly and pretty.”

He shrugged. "I've always felt an affinity for the outdoors."

“Bog, how would you feel about attending the whole wedding and reception?” asked Marianne as he made his way across the field.

He stopped at her words, not understanding where that had come from or why.  “I hadn’t planned on it. I didn’t think I’d be welcome-”

“But you are! Dawn wants to invite you,” she hurried to say before adding quietly, “And I’d like you there, too.”

Bog trudged up to her, needing to see her face clearly.  “Really? Why?”

“Because you’ve made all of this bearable so far.  I think I’d enjoy the day more if you were there,” she said, deciding to be honest.  She suspected he didn’t care as much about Dawn, but she was hoping that her sincere desire for his presence was enough.

It was.

His face turned darker in the pale moonlight, and he tried to utter words but failed miserably. He babbled until he got out, “I’ll go.”

“Thank you!”

He wasn’t prepared for the slight, muscular arms that circled around his waist, nor for the heartfelt gratitude that pervaded through her.  All he did know was that Marianne was willingly hugging him, her head tucked against his chest. He could see and smell every hair of her pixie cut, and he was a little too pleased to have her so close.  

This was how it could be.

Should be.

“I didn’t want to do this alone,” whispered Marianne.

In that moment, under the magic moonlight, he felt more connected to her than ever before, and he realized he was in serious danger of falling for her.  The problem was that he couldn’t bring himself to stop and let go of her before it became too painful. His thirst to know her, to understand her, to be close to her, was more powerful than his instincts for self-preservation.

“You’re not alone,” he said, finally returning the hug and pressing her closer.

“Neither are you,” she replied, sighing in relief.  

They remained in an embrace until Bog remembered that they had come there for a purpose. Now more than ever, he wanted to learn to dance.

“Are there any dances that involve us standing close to one another, besides the waltz?” he asked tentatively.

He had a feeling she didn’t want to show her face yet, and he wasn’t about to push it.

“There is, but I need a slow song-”

“I’ve got just the one,” he said, putting on Van Morrison’s “Moondance”. “Perfect timing for it.”

Her head shot up when she heard the opening notes, not prepared for something so romantic. He looked on expectantly, so she began making small movements, and he followed.  He followed her so well now that she didn’t have to say anything. With locked eyes and captivated looks, they did the box step.

Halfway through the song, Bog said, “You mentioned previously your love of “As the World Falls Down”.  This … is my song. Something soft and wild, beautiful and free.”

He wanted a woman who would appreciate his love of nature, who wasn’t afraid to be herself and could stand up to him.  Marianne looked more like his ideal with every minute they danced.

As the song ended, they broke apart, and Bog pointed to a clump of willows nearby.  “Want to explore the park before heading back?”

“Yes.”

That was when the song changed.  Bog didn’t know his library was randomly picking songs after, but as “Strange Magic” drifted through the air, he realized that he couldn’t have chosen a better song to run off into the park with Marianne as accompaniment.

“Come on, Tough Girl,” he said, reaching out with an open palm of encouragement.  “There’s something I want to show you.”

Slipping her hand in his, she said, “I’m ready.”

As they ran, both began humming the song.  It was just ending as Bog lifted up the branches of a particular willow tree and brought her near the trunk.

“Wait here,” he said, excited.

He leaned down and clicked something before the soft, white light of hundreds of miniature Christmas lights lining the branches came to life.  Marianne marveled at the sight as Bog surreptitiously placed “Strange Magic” on repeat, singing along softly as Marianne wandered around.

“You’re walking meadows in my mind.  Making waves across my time. Oh no. Oh no. I got a strange magic.”

Marianne in her tall, cowboy boots, dark purple vest, and mini-skirt with leggings struck an odd figure at times, but in Bog’s eyes, she was beautiful.  Her eyes were soft and vulnerable, full of awe, as she beheld all the lights, and she twirled around quickly, trying to take it all in. When that didn’t satisfy her, she began circling the trunk, trying to figure out how he managed to set it up.

“This is beautiful and brilliant!”

“Do you want to know how it’s done?” he asked hesitantly.

“Would I?!” she replied, making him blush.

“Over here,” he said, bending down to show her all the electrical stuff he normally did for work.

She realized he was a nerd at that moment, and she liked him all the more for it.  He was passionate about it, so proud of his design that he had created first on the computer.  He had been inspired by things his father had done years ago, and she loved that he honored his father in that way. A purple wildflower was growing around the trunk, so Bog even took a moment to pick the flower and place it behind Marianne’s ear.  She was at a loss for words as he paused to gaze at her before going back to showing her what she was so interested in.

She found herself singing softly as he chased a wire down. “Oh, I’m never gonna be the same again.  Now I’ve seen the way it’s got to end. Sweet dreams. Sweet dreams.”

There was no stopping her and her barrage of questions, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.  He showed her how he had set it up years ago with some leftover Christmas lights, a battery, some wire, and a few other things.  

She loved the design, and soon after knowing the full truth, she was trying to think of ways to add on and make it better.  As she made suggestions, he couldn’t help but get excited at how her mind worked so similarly in some ways, and yet was quite different.  It was good, though, because it complemented his well. If there was some way to convince her to work with him, he began wishing that it could be so.  She would be the perfect addition.

The two geeked out over lighting designs for a while longer, until Marianne began to feel chilly.  

“As much as I don’t want to leave, I think we should head out, Bog.  Dawn’s going to start wondering about us, and she may ask some awkward questions.”

The thought of dealing with Dawn and her questions that may or may not suggest they were a couple were something that he dreaded almost as much as he feared such questions from his mother.  As it was, Griselda was asking more questions with every practice, and he was trying to deflect them or downplay them to the best of his ability. He wasn’t sure if it was working, though.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, turning out the lights.

They were plunged into darkness.  They had been standing close to one another already, so when the lights went out, neither was quite prepared.  

“Bog?” she asked, not moving.

“I’m here, Marianne,” he said, arms reaching out to show her how close they still were.

The problem was that he was taller.  He stretched out his hands, misjudging the distance and touching her cheeks by accident.

“I’m sorry-”

“No, don’t be,” she insisted, leaning in and placing her hands on his cheeks.  “This was magical and wonderful. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, leaning down.  

His accent was thick as the words rumbled from within him.  She had seen the way he had been looking at her earlier, and she was sure that she mirrored him. Everything about the night had been lovely, all building toward something that she didn’t understand for much of the night … until now.  It seemed so obvious there in the dark; both could deny it this way if they desired.  

However, as she felt him move in, his dark shirt rustling softly as he bent down, she had only one desire: to kiss him.  Just one tiny kiss, to know if kisses could be more than the dry, boring things they had been with Roland.  

She closed the distance, and their lips touched.  Just a gentle press, but all the same, there was something there.  Both gasped as they pulled apart, tingles of awareness and electricity rushing through their veins.  

Marianne knew in that moment that she had been missing out.  She was glad she had a real kiss at least once.  

Bog didn’t understand how it was possible that something so simple and slight could be so powerful.  It had never been like that before.  He wanted to kiss her again, and the violence of his feelings scared him just a little.  He shouldn’t want it that much.  

It was probably just a fluke.  The heat of the moment. It could be gratitude from earlier, and she wanted to thank him.  It could be so many things, but it couldn’t possibly be interest - let alone love - she showed in that instant.  He told himself that repeatedly as they walked back to her car silently, as the thought of it being the opposite was too good to be true.

One thing was for certain as he exited her car: he had feelings for Marianne.  He didn’t know how deep they ran, but there was no more doubt. He still thought about the kiss, and he wanted to do it again.

Thankfully, Dawn burst through the front door just then to give him the mental clarity and reason he needed to leave Marianne’s side. 

“Where have you two been? I’ve been worried sick!”

Both exchanged looks before Marianne stammered out, “We finished music practice early, so we watched Labyrinth .  We also practiced some dancing at a park near Bog’s home.  He’s coming to the wedding.”

Dawn’s eyes continued to grow wider until she heard the last sentence.  At that, she rushed at Bog, squeezing the life out of him.  

“Thank you for coming! I’m so excited! I wanted Marianne to ask because I feared you’d say no otherwise.  Thank you!”

Bog returned the hug, making Dawn all the more happy.  “The wedding is only three weeks away now,” said Bog. “I don’t want to impose-”

“You’re not,” interrupted both sisters in stereo.

“You’re like family now,” said Dawn pulling away.  “I’d love to have you.” She then turned to her sister, who blushed.

That Bog began blushing then as well was all that Dawn needed to see.  The two had feelings for one another, and neither was willing to do anything about it.  They were both oblivious fools, but thankfully, she was not, nor was she tongue-tied.

“It seems like you two had a lot of fun tonight together.  Have you ever considered just hanging out without music practice? I bet you’d have lots in common.”

“You could show me more of your designs,” suggested Marianne, not willing to just agree.  “Maybe we could spar some more, and try to find a winner?”

“That would be nice,” he agreed, running a hand nervously along the back of his neck as he got up the courage to ask what had come to him.  “What about next weekend, on Saturday? We’ll both be off, and I play Dungeons and Dragons then with my friends. You could meet St-”

“I’m in,” said Marianne excitedly.  “I’ve always wanted to play it. I want to be a fairy or some other magical class.”

“I can make a character for you,” he said, his eyes lighting up.  “I’ll text you later with a time?”

“Sure. Just let me know tonight.” When she realized how desperate she sounded, she added, “Or tomorrow. Or, you know, Friday.  Whatever really.”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, going to her and squeezing her hands.  “I can’t wait.”

“Me too,” she replied, eyes lighting up. 

As Bog made his way to his car, Dawn chirped, “Me three!”

Marianne turned and discovered that she had a very suspicious and meddling sister beside her.  “This means nothing-”

“Sure, Marianne.  Just like I’m sure you didn’t tell him what your favorite scene and song in Labyrinth is,” said Dawn, walking away breezily when Marianne’s shocked face confirmed it.  “I know what this means.”   

“Dawn, don’t get any ideas!”

Bog left the driveway then after Marianne went back inside.  He had been in a euphoric state until Dawn started speaking to her sister.  At that, he was worried all over again that Marianne wasn’t actually interested in him the way he was.  The rational part of him tried to remind him that had he been in Marianne’s place talking to Dawn or his mother, he’d probably say similar things.  Nonetheless, he remained worried with seeds of doubt until he got home and checked his texts. At that, some part of his doubt melted away at seeing three texts from her.  The first was a picture of Marianne with his guitar, giving her best impression of Kiss, tongue out and a rock-on symbol with her free hand.

Marianne: You forgot this! Don’t be surprised when it comes back to you next Saturday with extra decorations from me.  Have a good night!

A second text arrived within seconds of the first one.

Marianne: Woah.  I didn’t mean to sound so cute.  Don’t forget this again. I can’t wait for Saturday.    

A few minutes later, a third one appeared. 

Marianne: This is why I always call you instead of text.  I’m a total dork. Please ignore those first two texts. Thanks. But just to be clear, we are still hanging out next Saturday.

He goes and finds a crystal ball among his supplies for Dungeons and Dragons, and he manages to take a selfie of him offering the crystal to Marianne.  Before he sent the photo to her, he looked up thr exact words of the movie for her.

Bog: It’s a crystal. Nothing more.  But if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you an even bigger dork.  See you on Saturday.

Dawn was scared out of her wits when Marianne screamed for no apparent reason in her bedroom. Dawn could never be sure, but it sure sounded like a girly squeal, even if Marianne insisted it was only a spider. 

Chapter Text

Bog and Marianne quickly discovered the joys of texting after that magical night. Marianne loved it when he sent selfies at work, and Dawn got to see the occasional photo. Marianne always said it was to check out all the cool equipment he used, but Dawn was quite certain it also had a lot to do with the fact that Bog looked great in a suit. His dark brown hair and five-o'clock shadow were what Dawn focused on instead, happy to see that Marianne loved it when she criticized it.  Dawn always grinned conspiratorially when Marianne then went silent and acted awkward after mentioning how much she admired and liked Bog. 

Bog discovered that he had a marked preference for brown eyes, and he looked forward to every text she sent him. Occasionally, he spaced out at work as he meditated on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman could bestow, and Stuff and Thang enjoyed teasing him whenever they caught him. He blustered at first, at least until they brought up her name; at that point, he turned into an awkward, stuttering mess.    

The following Saturday, Bog packed up his staff and put on some workout clothes. Now that it was officially November, the weather was cooler, and he was there for everything fall, especially with the cloudless day predicted. They wouldn't have many more good days outside, so they were going to make the most of it at a park Marianne knew and loved. 

When he arrived, Marianne's fencing rapier was by the open door, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

"Morning! Today's forecast calls for blue skies," called Bog into the empty hallway. "We have to be outside to enjoy it, though."

"I can't find my bracers," cried Marianne as he heard hurried footsteps coming toward him.

His mind stopped working temporarily when she entered the hallway, wearing her baggy workout pants and an ELO shirt. Her hair looked like she had just gotten out of bed, and she seemed annoyed. Why he found that look so cute was beyond him, but before he knew it, he was standing in front of her.

"Hi."

"Hi," she replied, smiling and giving him a small wave.

"This week was too long," he said, a slight whine to his tone. "I've been looking forward to this all week."

"Me too!" she said, taking a step closer. "I was counting down the days."

"I've missed you," said Bog without thinking. When her eyes widened, his hands went flying, and he quickly added, "Er, you know. You, as a person because texting isn't the same. Your presence-"

"I get it. I feel the same way," she replied, one of her hands laid on his to calm him down. "Do you mind if we drop by my work on the way to the park? I think I left the bracers there. I sometimes wear them while drawing, to prevent getting pencil smudges on my arm."

"Sure. I'll put this in my car," he replied as she grabbed her purse and keys. He tried to make it sound casual when he asked, "Where do you work? What do you do there?"

Never mind the fact that he was burning to know. First it had been because of his wanting to get to know her, but after seeing parts of her workspace, he needed to know if she drew and designed things regularly. His stray thought of her working with him was being fed a little more every day. 

When they were settled in the car, she explained, "My father has an architecture firm, Light Fields and Golden Designs, and I'm one of the junior architects."

"Only junior?" asked Bog, surprised. "I thought he'd trust you more."

He regretted saying it until Marianne sighed audibly. "Dad's bent out of shape and questions my designs, not wanting to show favoritism, but mostly I think he is too old-fashioned to let me go higher. There aren't many women who work for him."

Her grimace told him everything he needed to know. 

"That's unfortunate. He's missing out by not letting you do more," consoled Bog, touching her hand.

"I don't think it'll get any better any time soon since he thinks I'm crazy for not going back to Roland. I'm this close to getting a restraining order on Roland and quitting my dad's firm like Dawn did, especially if my dad continues to push me or makes it a requirement for rising higher," said Marianne. "There's the building, on the left."

"Are any of your designs on display inside? I want to see them," said Bog, intensely curious as he stood in front of the tree-shaped building, looking it up and down.

"If you promise not to touch anything or look at other people's designs, sure. My dad and his partners get a little bent out of shape at having visitors unexpectedly," said Marianne as she unlocked the door. "This way."

"You don't need to fear me. I'm an engineer, just like the rest of my friends," said Bog, looking around in awe in the tall building. 

"That suits you," she said, grinning and leading him inside. 

In an upper office, Dagda watched his daughter enter in with a strange man who seemed far too interested in Marianne and her place of work for his liking. He made a call, saying, "Roland, come to my office. There's something you need to see right now."

Unaware of what was happening above, the pair climbed a winding central staircase all the way to the top of seven floors, where the skylight had the brightest light. Tucked away in the far corner was Marianne's workstation, her desk, computer, clay, and several small scale models of her work on display. As she dug around to find her bracers, Bog wandered from one display to the next, making a mental note to look up more of her work when he got home. If this was only a small sample of what she could do, he was sure that she would be perfect at his firm. He left one of his business cards on her desk while she wasn't looking, for All the King's Engineers.

When Marianne found her bracers, she slipped them on, and she told him a little about each of her projects. Bog didn't think it was possible to like her more, but he did. Soon after, they headed out for Bog's car. Neither noticed that a new, green car had parked across the street in the meantime.

"Do you know who that is, Roland?" asked Dagda as the two men looked down upon the pair that got into Bog's car. "Is he another architect?"

"I don't think so. I recognize him, though," said Roland, the wheels turning. "Of course! He was at the Renaissance festival with Buttercup when I came to surprise her. I don't know what he does, though. My guess is he's an unsavory weirdo since he knew all the people who work at those festivals."

"That's possible. Let's go to her office and see if he left any clue," said Dagda, concerned and getting up. "I don't want her bringing in competition anymore than I want her mixing with the wrong crowd."

The walk up two flights of stairs went quickly for Roland, while Dagda was huffing and puffing by the end. Roland was ready for him by then.

"That's why I check in on her so much; to make sure she and her rebellious ways stay in check. Never fear. I'm looking out for your daughter," said Roland, reassuring the old man as they entered her office. 

"Thank you, Roland. You put my mind at ease. Everything seems the same. Let me see her desk," said Dagda, moving forward. 

After some initial scanning, the men found the business card. While Dagda read it and tried to understand who and what the card represented, Roland was looking the name up and grinning by the end.

"This is the guy who was with Buttercup," said Roland, showing the older gentleman a photo of Bog with his firm. "He works there in some small capacity. He probably works there part-time to cover his living expenses."

Never mind that it was obvious from the website that Bog owned the place. Dagda didn't need to know that. 

"Do you think he's trying to steal Marianne for his firm?" asked Dagda worriedly. "Or just steal our ideas in general?”

"Probably. I wouldn't put anything past him. You should watch Marianne very closely right now," advised Roland. 

"You're right. She has been acting strange this past week. If she continues to act odd this coming week, I'll confront her."

"Good plan. Now, how about lunch, future father-in-law?" 

"That sounds like an excellent idea, future son-in-law."

As those two men dined at an expensive restaurant - graciously covered by Dagda of course - Bog and Marianne arrived at the park.  With rolling hills and miles of light blue skies, it was a perfect day to spar outdoors. They'd get a workout on the hills, and more of a challenge from one another. 

When Marianne began humming "Mr. Blue Sky", Bog started singing. Before long, she was joining him as they did their stretches and warmups.

"Hey, you either the pretty face, welcome to the human race. A celebration, Mr. Blue Sky's up there waiting, and today's the day we're waiting for!"

They stopped abruptly after that, as both were staring at the other a little too intently as they sang about pretty faces and how excited they were for the beautiful, cool fall day. 

After a few more minutes, Marianne stepped forward. "I'm ready. You ready to lose?"

"Hardly. I could do this all day," bragged Bog, seeming bored. "I'll beat you every time now that we don't have any time limits."

"Bring it on."

For a time, staff and rapier met with loud clangs and little talk. Both were so focused on winning that there was only the other, the rest of the world having melted away as they lunged forward and twirled about as needed to fight. When it became clear that they were evenly matched and still not getting any hits on the other, Marianne decided to try to goad him into messing up. She had never seen him truly angry, but she wondered if it would help her. 

"Is that all you got?" she asked, as she twirled to block him.

"I was going easy on you," said Bog, succeeding in pissing off Marianne royally.

Bog wasn't one to play dirty, but he had come to a similar conclusion as Marianne. Something needed to change to find a conclusive winner. What he didn't expect was the fireball of anger that flew into him, pounding and thrusting at him continuously with the pent-up fury from a year of regret and annoyance from dealing with Roland. While she may have been tiny, she was mighty and energetic. 

Bog was forced to whirl his staff around in every direction possible to prevent her from forcing her way in. She was out for blood, her grim face and angry eyes only succeeding in making her more attractive to him.

Her rapier came up and almost hit his chin. He put his whole body into it and brought his staff down horizontally to stop her at the last possible minute.

"Tell me again how you're going easy on me," she growled, getting in his face. 

Bog had never been more turned on. "You're cute when you're angry," he said, the words slipping out. 

She blinked, not expecting that response. No one had ever called her cute, not even Roland. He only called her pretty when she was dressed up in a big ballgown or something else equally confining and not her. Usually, he saw her get angry and told her she was too much. Everyone seemed to think she was too much, except for maybe Dawn and Sunny on occasion. This threw her off balance. When she recognized that, she assumed it was a ploy, so she used her right foot to kick his shins.

It worked. Their stalemate ended as Bog yelped.

"Hey! That's not fair," he said, jumping back to rub his shins and preventing her from going in for another move.

"No, it isn't," said Marianne, smiling devilishly. "I wonder what your basis for comparison is. All's fair in love and war."

Bog didn't like stunts like that. If she wanted to go for the legs, then he'd give it to her.

"I've got a piece of grass here ready to welcome you when you fall," he grit out. "Get ready, 'cause here I come."

He took the offensive swinging with all his might. One upward motion turned into a side swipe, then leading into an attack on her left leg that she barely dodged and blocked. 

"Touch a nerve, did I?" she asked, her rapier flying in multiple directions to keep up with him.

"I prefer honesty in all my relationships, as well as in fighting," he said.

"And all I want is to be taken seriously by men, and not just be a simpering, fragile, cute female," responded Marianne, using the opening he created to wedge her rapier in underneath his staff. 

He was quick to pull back and prevent her arms from moving or attacking by raising their arms above their heads.

"You're not weak, Marianne, but there's nothing wrong with being cute," he said, leaning in. "A strong woman is soft and vulnerable, as well as tough and independent. You're all those things."

"I know," she said, not as confidently as she liked. 

A small part of her wanted to hug him for his words. It was something she reminded herself of constantly, but hearing it from him … it did things to her. It didn't help that all it would take was a small tilt of her head, and she could kiss him with how close they were since she was on the top of the hill and he a little lower.

Once upon a time, she had never wanted to be that close to a man ever again. Now, a part of her desperately wanted that closeness with him. To have and feel that connection was addictive, and it was confusing trying to decide what to do about him.  Her indecision made her pause, and she felt supremely awkward and annoyed about being in that position. 

"However, you're still not as physically strong as me, Tough Girl. Eventually, your arms will give out," he said, hoping it would make her end it all. 

Both were tired, but they refused to stop. She knew she wouldn't last much longer, so she needed some way to end it, sooner rather than later. She blushed when her first thought was kissing him. That was just a terrible idea, but at least it inspired a better one.

"Then you leave me no choice," she said, voice low as she closed the distance between them.

Bog's mind short-circuited at the idea of kissing her. It was something he had dreamed of once or twice, and so he began making comparisons. The dreams didn't live up to the real thing at all.

At least until Marianne jumped him. 

She dove forward, legs wrapping themselves around his waist. While he was still shocked, she yanked her rapier back, loosening his grip on his staff until both their weapons went flying to the ground and tumbled down the hill. Her free hands then pushed on his shoulders, finally giving her the power she needed to tackle him to the ground.

"Yield," she demanded, her legs still around his waist and arms bolstering her up above his face by resting on his biceps.

He didn't like her tactics, but he loved the end result.

"Never. You're in my clutches now, Princess."

"Hardly - gah!"

She hadn't expected his arms to so easily overwhelm and pull her down to his level.

"You were saying?" he purred. "Give up now, Princess. Turn back before it's too late."

"Make me," she challenged, eyes burning.

He tried. 

Once he had a good grip on her, he flipped them so he was on top of her. However, she was quick to jab and kick him, wriggling until she could turn the tables. They rolled their way down the hill as each took turns being on top until they finally reached the bottom. By then, both were sore from fighting and hitting the ground at odd angles, and their strength was all but gone.

Marianne was currently perched on top of him, but only in the strictest, most physical way. She was using him mostly as a cushion to lean on for rest, both of them panting and trying to catch their breath. 

"I could win right now," she said weakly. 

"Go ahead. You could, but you won't. You know I'll find the strength to stop you again somehow," replied Bog, his eyes meeting hers. "It's no use."

"But we need a-"

"No, we don't. Perhaps we're just equally matched," he said, breathing heavily. 

"Are you suggesting we call another draw?" she asked, starting to like the idea.

"Yes," he said, too tired to say more, eyes pleading with her.

"Fine. Draw. Let's rest," she replied giving up on staying up and slumping onto his chest. 

Bog let out a long breath of relief.  When one of his hands danced along the edge of her arm, he realized how cold she was, despite the bracers and three-quarter length sleeves.  His protective instincts kicked in, and he started rubbing her arms, trying to warm her up. Marianne wasn’t used to such tenderness or attention to her, but in her physically weakened state, she accepted it gratefully.  Bog continued to surprise her.

“Bog, am I hurting or squashing you right now?” she asked, worried about him.

He was quite certain that he had never been so content or at ease in all his life. Her presence was the main cause of it.

“Not at all.  Let’s just rest here a little longer before we head back to my place to change.”

“Okay.”

Neither wanted to move, so they didn’t.  When Marianne finally checked her phone, she gasped.  

“What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately up and ready to fight for her.

“Look at the time!”

“Oh, right.  Let’s go,” he said, both scrambling to get up and avoiding talking about how nice it had been to just rest and soak in the other’s presence.  

The drive was tense for Bog; he blamed himself for so much time passing, and so he took it out on the drivers.  They were almost to his home when Marianne finally said, “Bog, we’ve got time. We can just tell them we’ll be late.”

“I don’t like being late,” he said, eyes fixed on the road.

“Stick around Dawn long enough, and you’ll feel differently,” muttered Marianne, making him smile slightly.

That put him in a slightly better mood for the rest of the drive.  When they got back, he let her take the first shower.  

He thought it was a good idea until she walked out of the bathroom wearing only a towel.  His jaw dropped at the same time that he dropped her extra clothes that she had left on a chair in the living room. Both blushed and looked away before Marianne rushed forward and leaned over to grab her clothes.

“I-”

“Thanks.  Bye!”

With that, she slammed the bathroom door shut, and he sighed, unsure if he would ever be able to forget that image.  When she was fully dressed, he took over the bathroom. Marianne sat on his sofa to wait, at least until a knock came at the door.  After a few moments, the door unlocked due to a key, and Marianne jumped up when the door flew open, revealing a short, older woman with red hair who wore a large pearl necklace and flowers in her hair.

“Bog, I still have your key; you can’t keep your mother out - oh, hello! And who are you?” asked the woman Marianne assumed was Bog’s annoying mother.

Marianne felt emotional whiplash, just like Bog had described in past sessions.  One moment she was cranky and like her son, and the next she was the sweetest old person in the world as she smiled innocently and approached the newcomer.

“I’m Marianne.  I-”

“Oh, I know who you are.  Bog’s told me all about you.  You’re such a doll doing that for your sister,” said the older woman, pointing at Marianne’s head.  “I’m Griselda, Bog’s mother. Do you have a comb?”

“I, uh, just washed my hair-”

“Well, don’t you want to look pretty for Bog?”

The bathroom door opened slowly.  “Mother?”

“In the living room, dearie!”

Second later, a dripping-wet Bog wearing only a towel around his waist appeared in front of the women, making both stare at him.  Griselda looked ashamed at first, at least until she saw the undisguised interest Marianne had as she checked him out, seeing just how hairy his chest was. After that, Griselda hated having to say something to her ashen son.

“Bog, my son, why are getting your hardwood floor wet?”

“Mother! What are you doing here?” he asked, flabbergasted.  

“I could say the same about Marianne here, or about you in just a towel.  Really, there are other ways to show off your physical prowess to her-”

“Excuse me,” he said, rushing back to the bathroom to hide his embarrassment.  

“You mustn’t mind him too much.  He’s out of practice with dating pretty girls, so I hope you don’t mind,” said Griselda to a blushing Marianne as she realized what she had been doing to Bog. 

Griselda’s words didn’t help much, either.  

“We’re not dating-”

“Yet.  If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll ask you out,” said Griselda with confidence.  “He likes you; I can tell.”

“Mother, stop meddling!” cried Bog from the bathroom.

“I think I’m going to … yeah, go outside and talk to my sister really fast. Bye!” said Marianne, escaping outside before things got worse.

Soon after, Bog was hopping down the hall as he attempted to walk while pulling up his pants all the way.

“Where’s Marianne? Did you scare her off?”

“After the eyeful she got of you, she’s not going anywhere for a good, long time,” said Griselda, patting her son’s chest.  “You look just like your father, except taller. He was so handsome.”

“Mother, where is she?” he asked, looking around nervously.

“Never you mind about her.  She needed to call her sister.  She’ll be back. Now, let’s talk about you, her, and the two of you.  When are you asking her out?”

“Mother! For the thousandth time, we’re not dating, and I don’t intend to date her.  She’s only here because of the music, not because of me,” intoned Bog, groaning.  

“I disagree.  I saw the way she spoke of you and looked at you: she’s interested in you, mark my words.  She wants a piece of you.”

“Mother, no,” he said through gritted teeth.  “She was surprised, not interested.”

“Poppycock.  Besides, you’re interested in her.  I can see it plain as day, and hear it every time you speak of her.  Bog, you like her. You need to ask her out,” said his mother, going to him and grabbing his wrists.  “Do yourself a favor and just try. You’ll thank me later.”

“I don’t want to rush things.  Maybe once we survive this wedding,” he hedged, looking outside and noticing that Marianne was coming up the steps.  “She’s coming back. Not now, please. Why are you even here?”

“Oh! You left some of your dice at my house, and I thought you’d want them back.  I’ll leave now so you two can be alone. Ta-ta for now!” cried Griselda, getting on her tiptoes and pulling Bog down so she could kiss his cheek.  When she was facing Marianne, she said, “I’d love to sit and chat with you so more. We should have tea together! Goodbye, dearie. It was lovely to meet you.”

With that, the whirlwind that was Bog’s mother disappeared, leaving the two staring awkwardly at one another.

“So, ah, Dawn’s doing well,” said Marianne, not sure what to say in the face of such a matchmaking mamma.

“Oh good,” he said, nodding and trying to gauge how she was feeling.

“I’m hungry, so I called for some takeout.  You and your friends like Chinese, right?” she asked.

“Of course.  All self-respecting engineers do,” he said, comparing how put together he was compared to her. “How long until the food is ready?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“Perfect.  I can be ready in ten,” he said, dashing off to make himself presentable.

After they had picked up the food, they arrived with two minutes to spare to the Dungeons and Dragons session.  Marianne immediately won the heart of every person there by bringing food.

“Marianne, this is Stuff.  She’s my structural engineer,” said Bog.  “This is Thang, her boyfriend. He’s a mechanical engineer.”

“It’s great to finally meet you both,” said Marianne, grinning.

“Any friend of Bog’s is welcome,” said Stuff, shaking her hand.

“Bring food anytime!” cried Thang before he hugged Marianne.

After the other introductions, Bog took great delight in showing Marianne the custom character he had created for her while they all ate.

“If you decide that you like playing,” he said after explaining everything, “you’re welcome here anytime. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“Come every time,” said Brutus from his corner.  “He’s much nicer when you’re here.”

Bog gave him a dirty look while everyone else laughed.

The session went well.  Marianne fit right in with her quick remarks, and everyone was amazed at how much she was willing to challenge Bog.  Despite the constant questions and challenges, Bog was in the best mood he had been in for a long time. He enjoyed every verbal spar for what it was, more time with her.  If he couldn’t date her, then he could at least enjoy their time together and become her friend.

Marianne and Stuff got along well, and Thang continued to whisper to Bog at odd moments about how much he liked Marianne and wanted her to come back.  The campaign they were currently on benefited greatly from the addition of Marianne, and she fit in well with the general dynamic. By the end of the four hour session, everyone urged her to come back for the next.  Between learning all their in-jokes and making up more along the way, Marianne hadn’t enjoyed herself like that in a long time. No one cared that she was a warrior who just jumped right in. They needed more fighters, so they protected and helped her no matter how many times she rushed in to help.  She just felt bad for Bog, as everyone was giving him the side-eye as they motioned between her and him, and he looked exasperated with all of them by the end.

When the pair left the session, she got hugs from everyone, even Stuff.  “If you ever want a copy of the video I took of you two fighting at the Renaissance festival, let me know.”

“Thanks! I’d like one,” she said.

“Anything for a friend of Bog’s.  Please come back,” said Stuff before pulling away.

When the pair were inside Bog’s car, he sighed in relief.

“I like my friends, but sometimes they annoy the crap out of me.”

“They’re really nice and a lot of fun.  I’d like to play again sometime,” said Marianne, making him grin widely.

“Really? Er, great! I hope you can always come,” he said, tripping over his words.

When he realized how he sounded, he gave up on talking and just turned on the radio.  Anything had to be better than the way he was talking just then. For most of the ride, they sang along together, and Marianne loved seeing his exaggerated faces as he drove.  It wasn’t until the end that Pink Floyd’s “Brain Damage” came on, and both got excited.

“I love this song!”

For a moment, neither cared that they said it at the same time.  WIth matching smiles, they sang along happily.

“The lunatic is in my head.  You raise the blade. You make the change,” they sang, glancing at one another.  “You rearrange me ‘till I’m sane.”

Both looked away after that, feeling as though truer words had never been said.  No one could have gotten Marianne through the minefield of Dawn’s wedding like Bog had, and no one else had brought meaning to his life or was able to keep him calm like Marianne could.

They stayed silent until he pulled up in front of Marianne’s home.

“Thank you for today.  I really enjoyed it,” said Marianne, saying what she had rehearsed in her head a few minutes ago as she moved closer to him.

“I’m glad you did.  Thank you for putting up with my mother and friends.  They mean well,” he said, turning and leaning in. 

“I like them all,” she said, eyes staring into his.  “Your mother is a trip.”

“You’ll get used to her and her meddling ways eventually,” said Bog, shrugging. “When will I see you again?”

“Wednesday night, for our final practice.  I’ll need the rest of the time to do all the last minute preparations,” said Marianne, jumping when their hands accidentally touched.

He pulled his hand away first.  “If you need anything, or need help hiding a body, I’m your man.”

Marianne laughed, and soon he was joining in with her.  

“So you hide bodies, too? What’s not to love?” she asked when she had recovered.

“Not much when it involves you,” he said softly.  

For a second, both wondered if they would kiss.  When she didn’t say or do anything in response, he pulled away, afraid that she wasn’t interested in him.  

Marianne bit her lip before saying, “Thank you.  That means a lot to me. See you soon.”

She was out of the car before Bog could say anything in response, not that he had anything more to say.  

The only thing that really haunted either that night was the what ifs: the missed opportunities for kisses.  Bog wondered if she could be interested, and Marianne feared that she would ruin the friendship by doing so. She decided it was better not to pursue it until after Dawn’s wedding.  There was too much going on before then.    

Chapter Text

"Marianne, what are you doing tomorrow?"

The woman in question stared at her father in surprise, fear gathering in the pit of her stomach.

"Considering tomorrow is a week from Dawn's wedding, her bachelorette party is tomorrow night-"

"Good. Then you have time to have Saturday brunch with your dear father," said Dagda, making a note in his phone. "Let's meet at our favorite place at eleven. I want to discuss your future here."

It was his favorite place, not hers. Mostly because Roland liked it a lot. Marianne abhorred the place because of old associations, but she was willing to put up with it because it was her father.

"I can stay for a little bit, and then I have preparations before the party."

Dawn was fond of singing and dancing, so her bachelorette party would consist of visiting every bar that had karaoke or line dancing within a twenty mile radius, all within the comfort of a limousine. Marianne had ensured they would be welcome and have a special drink at every single one of them since it was Dawn. Marianne would've liked more time to prepare and visit places, but her father was more important. 

She should have listened to her gut.

The next day, Marianne met her father at the restaurant that was just down the road from work. They could see their building from the parking lot, which was always cool, but Marianne had been too hopeful that her father had finally understood that she was the best person to promote. 

When brunch was done, Dagda got up and said, "Can you walk with your old man to the office for a few minutes before you go and take care of Dawn's stuff, please?"

"Sure, Dad. Anything," she said, getting up and pushing in their chairs. 

Her father just stared at her brown leather cowboy boots.

"When did you start wearing those?" he asked, pointing to the boots. "You never used to wear anything like that, especially to a fine establishment like this."

"Dad, I've always liked wearing boots. I stopped wearing them while I was dating Roland for a time, but I never stopped liking them. I wear them every day to work," she said internally sighing that somehow he hadn't noticed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Marianne. I'm a little oblivious, especially at work. I get so caught up in everything. Being the owner of the business is a lot of responsibility," he said, puffing out his chest just a little. 

"I know, Dad. I help you with all of it," she reminded him as they came to the entrance of the building. 

"You do, and I appreciate all your hard work," said Dagda, smiling as they walked to the elevator, where they went to his office's level.

Once they were in his office, he motioned around him widely before saying, "One day, Marianne, all of this could be yours."

"Could?" she asked, a little indignant and confused. "Since when did it become could instead of will?"

"Well, I," stammered her father, "it's just-"

She narrowed her eyes, her tone becoming defensive. "Just what? Please explain it to me. You just said you appreciate all my hard work," she said, taking several steps toward her father. 

"Well, I've been thinking about retiring soon-"

"And? I don't see the problem here," she interrupted, folding her arms.

"Well, I don't think you'll be ready by then-"

"What?!"

Dagda took several steps away from his daughter, now worried for himself at the way his daughter's voice rose several decibels. 

"When you react like this, I think you can see why," he said, trying to justify himself.

"And I think I'm perfectly justified in reacting so! I followed in your footsteps. I did everything you ever asked of me. I've been working here since before I could be paid," she said in exasperation. "What am I supposed to think?"

"Well, er, you don't have the experience or maturity to handle it yet," he replied, trying to remain calm. His grand plan wasn't working as he had expected it to. It had seemed really sound while discussing it with Roland.

"If I don't have experience, it's because you won't give it to me or don't trust me. I've worked in every position here but yours. No one knows this place and the people better than me. I know all the clients; I'm great with the money," she said, trying to make her case as she calmed down. "I've asked for more responsibility and more jobs, but you won't give it to me. Do you not like my designs?"

"It's not that, per se-"

"Then what is it?" she asked, almost screeching. "I've done everything in my power to please you."

"Not … quite everything," he said, smiling slightly at finding an opening. "There's one point upon which we disagree, and I think it reflects poorly on you and your judgement, that you can't make mature decisions because of one misunderstanding-"

"Oh. No. You are not talking about Roland. Please tell me you're not," she said, growing red.

"I am," he replied, no longer afraid as he took what he thought was the high ground. "He is-"

"We will never agree look Roland. What I do with my love life is my decision. That should never be the reasoning upon which you make a business decision. They're totally different!" she argued.

"But if you don't follow my wishes in this way, how do I know you will after I'm gone here?" he asked, sure that he had her there.

Oh, how wrong he was.

"Dad, I'm the one who suggested doing a memorial party for Mom year after year. I'm the one who's brought in new business consistently with my ideas, and I always keep them looking and built organically, even when you told me I shouldn't because the price would be too much. I'm fulfilling your wishes in every possible way when it comes to work."

Dagda opened and closed his mouth, unsure how to continue. He had lost his leg to stand on, and now he felt awkward. He wished he had thought more about it. It didn't seem as good or fair now the more she explained herself.

"You're right. But-"

"But you're going to hold my future here hostage all because you want me to marry a man whom I hate and who disrespects you, me, and the rest of our family," said Marianne, anger and sadness in her eyes. 

"He doesn't! What happened in the past is just that: the past. He's a changed man. He loves you-"

"No! He's a liar, Dad! Why can't you see that?" she asked, taking his shoulders and begging him to understand. "He's always lied. The only thing he loves is himself … and maybe his Audi. But he never, not once, loved me."

"Marianne!" cried her father, shocked. "How can you say that? You're the most wonderful, giving, hard working woman I know."

"That's why you won't let me succeed you," she said. Adding on quickly as she saw the hurt look on his face, she said, "Dad, if you invited Roland to Dawn's wedding, do you know what would happen?" 

"He'd come, of course," Dagda replied, certain as he got an idea. 

"Sure. He'd skip the actual wedding ceremony, no doubt claiming that something else came up, and then he'd only come for the wedding reception, to eat all the free food and drink at the open bar until he stumbled out or got kicked out."

"Marianne! That's hardly charitable," he said, upset on Roland's behalf. 

"But it's true! I would bet you any money that he wouldn't even bring a gift for Dawn, mostly because he's too cheap and selfish to do so. Him being there would be the true gift in his mind, no doubt. And worse, he'd make the whole thing about him instead! He'd try to take the attention, all in the name of getting me back when he ought to focus on Dawn instead."

"Is there anything else you'd like to add to his list of impossible sins?" grumbled Dagda, unwilling to believe his daughter.

"Yes, one more: infidelity. He would flirt with every bridesmaid there-"

"He would do no such thing! He loves you!" cried Dagda, sputtering and becoming red.

"He's flirted in front of me multiple times, when we were engaged and after we broke up," she said, making her father's mouth gape.

"He wouldn't."

"Many times," she reiterated. "Even when I could see him. You and mother always told me to find someone I can trust. I can't trust him. Don't let his smooth words convince you that I'm not ready to take over your firm. He's a liar and master manipulator; he wants to marry me for your money, so he can be a trophy husband."

"But how would you not getting the job achieve that?" he asked.

"I don't get the job unless I'm with him by your logic. He wins no matter what," she said, seeing that her father still wasn't convinced.

"He loves you. I've seen it-"

"You've seen nothing," she said, turning to leave in disgust. "The fact that you believe him over your own daughter is telling. I'm done with this,".

"So you can go work at that engineering firm with that beatnik from last weekend?" asked Dagda, rushing forward.

Her forward movement stopped so suddenly she almost fell over. Then, she stalked over to her father, and he was a little afraid of her again. With hard eyes and a determined, grim line to her mouth, she looked ready to kill. 

"Is that what this is all about?" she asked, voice deadly calm. 

“Partly, yes,” replied her father nervously.

“And threatening to not let me have the job and telling me that I need to marry a guy I hate in order to get said job is your way of preventing me from taking a job at the engineering firm?” she asked sarcastically, trying to understand, her face a mask of calm.

“You’ve been acting odd all week! I’ve been watching you very carefully.  I’m worried about you,” said Dagda, trying to defend his decisions.  

“And yet you never noticed the boots I wore all week.  What have I done?” she asked, confused.

She hoped that he hadn’t seen her fingering the business card at all.  She was ashamed to admit that ever since she had found it on her desk, she had kept it in her pocket or purse, playing with it unconsciously when she thought of him or when she texted him.  

Which was more frequent now. She had played with the business card so much that it had several well-worn creases in it and was slightly worn.   

It wasn’t her fault, really.  All he had to do was send a random text about a song he heard and include a story or a terrible pun about it, and she got sucked in.  It was even worse when he mentioned having more ideas for her character for Dungeons and Dragons, or was just interested in telling her some of his story ideas for the whole group.  She had gone to bed past midnight multiple times that week because she had stayed up late talking to him. She had encouraged it every step of the way, and she had even begun initiating the texts.  She was proud of herself for doing that, and she had even ventured to sing while doing the dishes one day after dinner.

Dawn had joined in with her at the end, and she had been bugging Marianne ever since about doing it more.  Dawn missed their impromptu karaoke after dinner or while doing chores.  

“You’ve been smiling all week! You never smile anymore.  Don’t get me wrong; I’m glad you are smiling again. But-”

“Then you should be happy for me and ask me why I’m happy,” interrupted Marianne.  “Why else?”

“You’ve been nicer to everyone.  You’re not trying to drive everyone away from you for once,” he said.  “You’re more patient.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re upset about this. If anything, you should be thanking me and the reason why I’m happier now,” she said, not realizing just how much her behavior had been noticed.  

“Is it because of him? Are you leaving to go work for a bunch of engineers? He’ll never amount to anything, especially dressed like that,” he said matter-of-factly.

If it had been anyone else, she would have wrung their necks for saying such a thing of Bog. Since it was her father, she made an exception. 

“First of all, Bog is the accompanist for Dawn’s wedding.  I’ve been spending time with him lately, and it’s only for music.  If we dress odd on the weekend, it’s for comfort,” she said, holding up one finger.  As she held up a second finger, she said, “Second, how a person dresses is not how you’re supposed to judge a person.  Mother said never to trust first impressions, and right now, you’re showing how alike you are to Roland, and frankly, it disgusts me.  Finally, for your information, Bog is a wonderful guy. He’s brilliant. He owns that engineering firm and employs more than ten people for an independent company.  Better yet, he’s talented with the violin and guitar, and he’s funny. He can also recognize talent when he sees it.”

“So he did ask you to join his company,” said Dagda triumphantly.

She groaned and stared at the ceiling. “Yes, he did.  He did because he took one look at my work and recognized me for what I am: worthy, without needing a man to complete me,” she said, coming forward until she was in her father’s face.  “Until a half hour ago, I never considered accepting his offer because I love what I do here and want to continue what you and Mom did together. Now, I’m seriously considering taking his offer.  There I will be taken seriously and not questioned because I am a woman.”

She started to pull back, but her father grabbed her wrist.

“It’s only because he wants to date you,” insisted Dagda.  “I saw the way he looked at you and how close he was. He likes you.”

“My employment is not conditional upon dating him; this work is.  At least he is professional,” said Marianne coldly, fleeing before her father could say anything else.

She raced down the stairs. When she was at the bottom of the stairwell, her father called out to her to wait.

“No.  Unless you’re going to apologize for what you’ve said, we’re done.  I have a party to organize,” she said, walking to the door. Right before she went out the door, she said, “Dad, Bog’s the only reason I’ve been able to survive Dawn’s wedding.  He makes me happy, truly happy. Isn’t that what you want for your daughters, or is their looking good more important?”

Dagda looked confused and torn, and Marianne kicked the door and stormed out.  However, she didn’t get very far before another person stepped in her way.

“Hello, Buttercup.  My hair’s doing that thing that we both like,” he said, twirling a lock of his luscious, blond hair around a finger.  “How are you? Ready to get back together?”

“Over my dead body, snake,” she hissed, trying to side-step him.

He, however, was faster.  Soon he was in her face, restraining her arms.

“Buttercup, that’s not nice.  Didn’t you have a nice chat with your Father? Don’t you want to run this place?”

“Not if I have to be with you to do so,” she said spitting on his hair.

The ploy worked like a charm.  Roland’s hands flew to where the spit had touched his precious hair, and she punched him in the face, the cracking of his nose a satisfactory sound to Marianne’s ears right before she kicked him hard in the groin.  Then, his scream of pain was music to her ears.  Roland fell onto his back on the ground, and he cried like a baby about the pain.

“Roland, you’ve meddled in my life for the last time.  I’m getting a restraining order against you. Don’t come near me ever again,” she warned, her face angry.  “Or else.”

“Buttercup, help me up-oof!”

“These boots were made for walking, and that’s just what they’ll do.  One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you,” she sang, stepping on one of his shoes and then his stomach, making him yell all over again.

As he writhed on the ground, Marianne took great pleasure in keying Roland’s car since it was parked right next to his.  The moment he heard the awful screech, he went absolutely still. His precious Chipper had been marred, and never had Marianne felt so liberated.

“No!”

Marianne laughed maniacally and drove off.  She didn’t get very far, however, before she felt tears come to her eyes.  It wasn’t often that she cried, and she hated shedding tears over Roland. However, this was different.  He had quite possibly caused a rift between her and her father, and she was beyond hurt and betrayed. Before she knew it, her car was parked in front of Bog’s house.

Marianne usually just cried on her own, preferring to be away from others.  She didn’t want anyone to think her weak. But … Bog was different. Somehow he understood and didn’t judge.  He let her rant about her father and his odd work policies, about how he had treated Sunny poorly, and about her frustration involving Roland.  He always listened patiently and seemed to know when to comfort and give advice, and he had always encouraged her to make up with her father.  

If Bog had been selfish, he would have encouraged her to dislike her father and drive a wedge between them like Roland had.  But that wasn’t Bog. He was a good man. She knocked once and tried ringing the doorbell, but Bog didn’t answer. It surprised her since his car was parked in the driveway, and she knew from earlier texts that he was supposed to be home, so she texted him.

Marianne: Are you home?

He texted back almost immediately.

Bog: Yes.  I’m practicing violin.  Why?

Marianne: I’m on your front porch.

Moments later, Bog was breathing heavily as he opened the door to let her in.

“Marianne?” He took one look at her face, and it changed to one of concern and anger as his arms opened wide. “What happened? Who do I have to kill?  Brutus will look the other way.”

She laughed before slowly walking into his arms.  He was quick to bring her close, and in that moment, his hug could have rivaled Dawn’s for Most Likely to Squeeze the Life Out of You.  She didn’t mind.

“It’s Roland, but mostly, it’s Dad,” she said, sniffing.  “I still can't believe it.”

“Sit down and tell me everything,” he said, escorting her to his kitchen table.

He poured them each a glass of vodka, and once they were both seated, she told him all of what happened at brunch and afterward.  By the end, the bottle was gone, and Bog despised Roland and Dagda both.

When the telling was done, Bog whistled. "You have guts, Marianne. I admire that about you. I'm just a little surprised that you told me all that and not Dawn."

She grimaced and replied, "It's almost her wedding. She's overloaded with things already. She doesn't want this burden, nor do I want her to lose her innocent view of everyone, especially Dad. I don't think she could see me like this."

"Has she ever seen you like this?" he asked seriously.

"Only right after I broke up with Roland, though she doesn't know as much as you," admitted Marianne.

"She needs to know. You should tell her," he said, eyes pleading with her.

"I'll think about it," she replied, looking away.

Marianne was still down, so he brought out his violin.

“I have just the solution for times like this,” he said, standing in front of her.  “The Beatles.”

She attempted to stop him, only to sit back and enjoy his renditions of “Yesterday” and “Eleanor Rigby”. When she seemed a little less sad, he played and “Julia”. She tried not to dwell on the fact that he changed the name of Julia to her name.  With her eyes caught up in his as he played and sang to her, neither noticed nor cared that they sang of love. Because she was slightly more upbeat, he played "Hey Jude", and she was much happier. 

She kept on encouraging him to play more, and eventually she even sang along with certain songs.  When he stopped playing to rest, both were smiling.

“Bog, you have no idea how much this has helped,” she said.

“Anytime. I can’t believe your father would do that.  That’s madness,” he said. “You said all the right things.  I still can’t believe you said all that about me.”

“You deserve more than his judgement.  If he knew anything about you, he’d probably push me at you as a way to build trust within the community or something like that.  However, he’s blind.”

“As much as I hate to ask this, I should.  Are you going to approach him? You should do it before the wedding, for Dawn’s sake,” said Bog. “She’d hate to see you fighting.”

“Once I tell her tonight, she’ll be on my side.  Speaking of which, what time is it?” she asked, looking around.  “My phone’s on silent.”

“It’s six-”

“Oh sugar! I’m late!” she cried, standing and wobbling.  She sat down immediately.

Bog rushed to her side and placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.  “No need, Marianne. I’ll call Dawn; she’ll pick you up. You shouldn’t be driving.”

“But I’m supposed to be her DD! I’m going to mess up everything,” she groaned, face hitting the table.

“I’m just going to call Dawn,” said Bog, opening his phone.  He was shocked to discover he had three missed calls from Dawn.

“Dawn?” he asked on speakerphone.

“Boggy bear! Do you know where Marianne is? She’s missing! I tried calling her like twenty times! I’m so worried about her,” fretted Dawn, making Marianne groan.  “Wait, is that Marianne? Marianne! Get your butt home! Did you start the party without me?”

“Yes, she did, and when she tells you why, you’ll be giving her just as many drinks as you’re about to have tonight,” said Bog before whispering, “Your father said some really messed up things to her.  I’ve been giving her vodka to talk.”

“And it’s working,” said Marianne before adding, “I can hear you, Boggy .”

“Now there’s no need for that,” he said, voice rising. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Dawn, I can’t drive. We need to force one of the triplets to be the DD tonight.  Come pick me up on the way to the karaoke bar,” said Marianne. “I rented a van; it should be arriving any second now.”

“Oh, it just arrived! Boggy, give her more alcohol, would you? I’ll be heading over soon.  Everyone else is here, as are the guys. Marianne, I’m coming!”

“So is Christmas and your wedding,” groused Marianne.  “I feel terrible.”

“Your father is a prejudiced idiot, however much he means well,” said Bog before hanging up.  When they were alone again, he found a half-full bottle of schnapps. “Here, we can share this.”

“Bog, have I told you lately how much I like and appreciate you?” she asked, taking the bottle and drinking most of it. “I love the peach flavor.”

“If I had known that …”

Marianne laughed until Bog knelt beside her, their faces level.

“Marianne, let loose tonight.  You deserve it. I think your sister would prefer it, actually.”

“I don’t know-”

“Please,” he urged, taking her hands.

“Alright.  Just know that there is a very high likelihood that you’re going to be dragged to the bachelors party tonight.  Dawn is liable to do that,” she said removing her hands.

“I’m not going to that,” he said, face frowning and displeased about her moving away.

“She’ll use her cute eyes and face and convince you easily.  You’re soft around her, and we all know it,” she said, finishing the bottle.

He grinned.  “Fair enough.  I’ll go if you promise to have fun tonight.”

She put out a hand. “Deal.”

“And Marianne …  if you are serious about getting a restraining order, here’s Brutus’ number at work and his cell.  He will walk you through it, and he’ll scare anyone with how big he is,” said Bog, texting her the info for the resident police officer in his group.

He barely put the cell phone down before Marianne was kissing him.  

“Thank you!”  A moment later, she seemed to realize what she had done, and she released her stranglehold on him.  “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he said, getting up.  “I just want you to be happy, to smile like that.”

“I don’t deserve you,” she said, attempting to get up and sitting back down at once.

“I think my Tough Girl is a lightweight,” joked Bog before crouching down.  “Get on my back, or I’m throwing you over my shoulder.”

“I’ll walk, thank you,” she sniffed, trying to get up and failing once more.  

“Over the shoulder it is.”

“Hey! Boggy, put me down!”

“Not when you call me that,” he said, grinning as he carried her to the front door.

Thankfully, that was when Dawn arrived and knocked on the door.

“Boggy, thank you! Marianne, are you alright?”

“Peach schnapps is amazing,” said Marianne, kicking to be let down.  “Dawn, help me walk. You owe me.”

“Aye, aye, Marianne!” she cried as she put an arm around Marianne’s shoulders.  “Boggy, will you pretty please join Sunny for his bachelor’s party?”

“I suppose,” he said, smiling.

“Yay! That was much easier than I thought it would be,” cheered Dawn as the three went to their vehicles.  “Have fun! We might see you while we’re dancing!”

By the time that the girls’ van made it to the karaoke bar, Dawn knew all the pertinent details of the day, and she loved Bog all the more for it.  She was mad at her father and disgusted with Roland.

“If Roland comes to the wedding, I will personally kick him out,” said Dawn confidently.  “Don’t feel bad about not talking to Dad.  He deserves it. Let him apologize first. Now let’s drink and sing!”

All the girls sang until Marianne was the only one left who hadn’t.  She was finally convinced, and Dawn secretly recorded it, as it was the first time she had publicly done karaoke in forever.  She very much wanted to show it to Bog later.

“Dawn, this one’s for you.  This is how I feel about all this wedding stuff and hullabaloo,” said Marianne as David Bowie’s “Modern Love” came on.  

She sang it loud and proud, and all the girls present cheered her on.  When she finished, Dawn insisted on an encore, and so Marianne was convinced because it was Dawn.  She followed up with David Bowie’s “Rebel Rebel”, and everyone in the bar loved it.

Bog was shocked to receive two texts from Dawn, sending him the videos.  When he watched, however, Sunny and all around him chuckled as he blushed and watched the videos of Marianne singing with rapt attention.  

“See anything you like there?” asked Sunny after the videos were done.

“I, uh, it’s just, well, it’s Marianne,” said Bog, trying to play it cool and failing.

“Do you like her?” asked Sunny seriously.  “It’s okay if you do.”

“Really?” asked Bog in shock.  “Am I that obvious? You like me?”

“Of course I do!” cried Sunny, slapping an arm.  “You’re cool, and you make Marianne happier than I’ve ever seen her.  And believe me, I’ve known her a long time. Why haven’t you asked her out yet?”

“Because, well, you know, it’s not the right time.  I don’t think she sees me that way,” said Bog before rushing to add, “and I wouldn’t want to ruin our friendship.  I think she’s just grateful. She couldn’t be interested in me. I’m just … me.”

“Bog, that’s a load of crap.  Do yourself a favor, and ask her out at the wedding reception or after.  She likes you. She wouldn’t sing if it weren’t for you,” said Sunny confidently.  “If she was grateful, she’d buy you a gift or something. Just try.”

“I’ll consider it,” hedged Bog, making Sunny shake his head.

“We’ll see if you still feel the same after later tonight.”

By the end of the bachelorette party, Marianne was quite drunk, but she still had enough wherewithal to wonder how they ended up at the same bar as the guys.  She kept her mouth shut, however, when Bog immediately appeared in front of her, asking her how her night went.

“Dance with me, and I’ll tell you.”

So they did.  They tried all the moves Marianne had taught him with some success.  Within a few songs, they went from the center of the floor to a quieter, darker corner, and before long, Marianne was beginning to droop.  She started by dancing more slowly, and then it turned into leaning against him for support. Bog enjoyed every second of it secretly, not minding that they just swayed with the music.

“Bog, will you take me home?” she asked after almost falling asleep on him. 

“Sure.  Let’s go, Marianne,” he said, leading her toward her sister.

Once Dawn gave her blessing, Bog found an Uber and got them home.  By the time they got to Marianne’s house, she was more awake, enough to pay for both of them and to walk out alone, even if she stumbled.

“Bog, I had an amazing time tonight.  Thank you,” she said, leaning in.  

She would have kissed him, but he pulled away.  This was not how he wanted to kiss her; he wanted her sober and not just grateful.  When her face crumpled slightly, he reached in and stroked her cheek before whispering in her ear, “Not here like this, Marianne.  Go inside and get some sleep.”

“Okay.  Another time,” she said, smiling brilliantly. “Good night.”

Bog couldn’t figure out if she liked him or not.  He took it as a good sign that she sent him text messages every time she woke up during the night, and even as she lay in bed complaining about all her poor choices in drinking more alcohol.  She vowed never to drink again, and he insisted she would at Dawn’s wedding, so there was much back-and-forth until she fell asleep.  

The last conscious thought Marianne had on Sunday was to call Brutus first thing Monday morning. Roland had been the cause of all this, and she was tired of dealing with him.  If even her bad life choices of drinking too much could be alright because of Bog, then it was time to seriously reconsider her priorities in life, starting with Bog and her work. 

She refused to say she was in love, but Dawn had a blast suggesting otherwise.

Chapter Text

"Mari-anne! Wake up!" Suddenly, all the darkness and covers surrounding the brunette in a cocoon of warmth were ripped savagely away from her, and she hid her face in her pillow. "It's my wedding day! Wake up, maid of honor! We have a big day ahead of us! I'm so excited!"

"I went to bed early last night, and I'm still exhausted. What time is it?" groaned Marianne. 

"Oh," said Dawn, looking at her phone. "It's five in the morning. No big deal."

"What?! Go away, Dawn. Go back to bed and let me get a few more hours before I have to face this crazy, exhausting day," moaned Marianne. 

"But I'm wide awake! It's my last day in this house with you. C'mon, let's make pancakes! Please?" begged Dawn, pushing on Marianne's shoulders.

Not a budge. "No."

"Pretty please?" she asked, leaning in and talking in Marianne's ear, trying to take away her pillow. 

"No."

The older sister tugged the pillow closer to her face, determined not to look into the puppy dog eyes her sister was no doubt giving her.

"What if I promise to make the breakfast, hmm?" asked Dawn, grasping at anything. "Maybe add some kahlua to the coffee?"

"Maybe in another hour," said Marianne begrudgingly. "I need more sleep."

"But I let you off the hook last night early for this. C'mon, Marianne!" cried Dawn, poking and tickling her sister. "Don't make me stay up alone."

"Find Sunny," said Marianne, making her sister laugh.

"Silly goose, I can't do that! It's bad luck to do that. Oh, I know!" Dawn quieted for a moment as she got off the bed. Marianne began to worry, as that usually meant she was going to do something that would earn her a punch from Marianne. Then there was singing. "We all live in a yellow submarine-"

Marianne's head burst up, her pointer finger in the air as she glared at Dawn. "No singing! Especially that annoying song."

"It's my wedding," taunted Dawn before she went back to singing. After she sang another verse, Marianne was on the verge of getting out of bed to chase her, so she said, "If you want me to stop, you have to sing something in return. Them's the rules on my wedding."

"Just wait until I have my own wedding. We'll see if you like my rules," muttered Marianne, choosing to drop into her pillow once more.

So Dawn sang louder, all too excited to hear that Marianne was willing to consider marriage again. Bog continued to work wonders.

She got through another verse before Marianne sat up once more, giving her grinning sister the meanest death glare she could muster while half asleep. Dawn stopped in anticipation, and she was rewarded.

Marianne moved to set her feet on the floor as she sang, "Honey Pie, you are making me crazy. I'm in love, but I'm lazy. So won't you please go away?"

Dawn tackle-hugged her sister before dragging her into the kitchen. As Dawn talked excitedly of the big day and what she hoped happened, she made a feast, and Marianne drank her coffee black, hoping it woke her up.

"Where's the kahlua?" asked Marianne after finishing her first cup.

"Oh no! We ran out," said Dawn, clearly sad. "Sorry."

"I need liquid courage to get through this day," muttered Marianne, pouring herself another cup of coffee.

"You need some Boggy Woggy by your side," said Dawn playfully as she finished the eggs.

"Hardly," she replied, just as she got a text from Bog. 

Bog: I'm awake.

She considered him lucky.

Marianne: It's too early to be awake. I wish I was in bed.

Bog: Dawn found you, then. How can I help? When should I arrive?

Marianne was almost inclined to say that Dawn was right, but she didn't want to give her sister that satisfaction. So she hid her smile of relief.

Marianne: Bring reinforcements in an hour and a half to the wedding venue for setup. If you bring kahlua or other alcohol, I'll be your best friend.

Bog: Consider it done. See you soon. We'll get through today.

She grimaced. 

Marianne: Somehow. Together. 

They stopped texting then as Dawn turned around and placed breakfast in front of her sister. When breakfast was done, Marianne reviewed the schedule of events with her sister one last time before she dropped her off at the spa. 

The day before, Dawn and Marianne had spent the day at the same spa, as Marianne knew she wouldn't have time to do it the day of since she was coordinating too much. Dawn wanted to relax with her sister, so they had a sister day to relax and fully pamper, as well as get Marianne away from the awkwardness that was currently occurring at her job.  She still wasn’t talking to her father, and he was a combination of hurt and disappointed that she hadn’t tried to do anything. But, if there was one thing that Dawn and Bog kept telling her, it was that she was in the right.  

Relaxing at the spa also took Marianne’s mind off of the approaching wedding.  She hadn’t been to a wedding since her own failed one, and she was fearing how it would go.  Doing it for Dawn helped, but she was still nervous. Thankfully, now that it was the day of the wedding, it was all too rushed to let her think too much.  Dawn needed to go early to the spa to have her hair, makeup, and nails done properly, and Marianne would be the last of the bridal party to be dolled up, which was fine with her.  Her hair was already in a pixie cut, which made it easy to style.

Once Dawn was settled in a chair, surrounded by squealing girls and more chocolate than she could eat, Marianne made her way to the wedding venue with a thermos full of coffee.  It was her fourth cup, and she still wasn’t awake.

Walking into the wedding hall didn’t wake her up so much as awaken old memories for her. Walking into the hall on the first day had been the hardest; she had had to step out multiple times.  

The pain of betrayal and love lost. The hurt of not having her mother there to witness her love, big day, and heartbreak. The jitters of excitement of what the future would bring.  The joy of family and love. The big world and new beginning that lay ahead, scary in its newness and amount of change, but wonderful at all the possibilities it brought. 

However, Dawn had been very supportive, and Bog texted her and dared her to kick love and weddings in the face and own it.

So she had.  

Now, it didn’t hurt as much, and it was filled with more happy memories, especially since Roland wasn’t there, and Dawn made everything better.  Alone in the room where the ceremony would take place, she felt a tinge of sadness at what she had lost, but she was glad that she had found out in time.  At least now she could focus on her sister and all that she needed.

And there was much to be done. Most of the big stuff had already been overseen by her and Dawn the last few days, and already the hall looked like the brightest fall day anyone had ever seen. Real trees in pots were spread throughout the room for the ceremony and reception hall, some trees taller than others.  The tallest ones had tiny, white Christmas lights amongst the leaves, highlighting the fall colors brilliantly.  

Gauzy fabric was hung from the ceilings, waves upon waves of iridescent fabric creating a slight sparkly haze in the air above, with leaves of red, orange, and yellow covered in glitter dotting the fabric throughout, as though they were captured in the process of falling.  

All the white chairs had red bows on the back of them, orange and yellow ribbons running along the aisles.  A white carpet had been laid out for the flower girls to throw petals and leaves, and Sunny had built a special gazebo that could be put together the day of for them to get married under.  Once it was set up, it would be covered in ribbons, flowers, and leaves, and Marianne was glad Dawn had many friends - as well as a large budget - to get enough hands to set up the chairs, ribbons, and last bits of the gazebo.

There was one chandelier in the center of the room where the ceremony would occur.  Dawn had chosen that specific place because it could hold over fifty candles in its retro center.  The rest of the hall was lit by natural light and candles of all shapes and sizes.

Marianne called it the largest fire hazard in existence.  Dawn called it her masterpiece.

As Marianne grabbed her clip board of things to do, the door behind her opened.

“Marianne?”

She sighed in relief.  Now, she was awake. Bog had come, even though he didn’t need to.  She turned and grinned when she saw a large bottle of kahlua in his right hand, and another pot of coffee in his left.

“Bog, have I told you lately that you’re amazing?” she said, going to him.  “We’re going to finish this before I leave this building.”

“We’ll see,” he said, smiling.  “We could always finish it at the reception while they’re being too cute.”

“Good point,” she said, noticing the door opening.  “Now we need to find flasks.”

“I’ve got one!” cried Stuff as she entered the building, Thang behind her.

“Oh, you guys! You didn’t have to come!” cried Marianne, going to them.  “Thanks for coming.”

“BK said you needed more help; we were available,” said Stuff with a shrug.

“We’re happy to do so,” said Thang before hugging her.  While still close, he added, “Plus, I kind of want to come to the wedding reception and watch Bog play with you.  He keeps telling us about it. Is there any chance we could be squeezed in?”

“I think so,” said Marianne, all too happy.  “You can take a video if you want, as long as you share it with me afterward.”

“Done.  Thanks!” he cried before almost skipping over to Stuff.

She seemed pleased as she looked between Thang and Marianne.  When Marianne nodded her head yes, Stuff turned to Thang and whispered, “See? I told you she’d like it better coming from you.”

“You’re right!” he said, smiling.  “So, how can we help?”

“Well, you’re all ten minutes early, but come over here, and I’ll show you the directions Sunny gave me for putting the rest of this together,” said Marianne, pointing to a typed piece of paper.

“Engineers are great at following directions,” said Thang.  “We got this.”

“We’re even better at taking things apart and destroying them,” said Bog under his breath, making Marianne smile.

After she finished explaining what to do, the three of them got going on setting up   Soon after, the rest of the help arrived, and they were tasked with setting up the chairs, ribbons, carpet, and more before moving into the reception hall to do a similar transformation.  

The ceremony room was almost done when Marianne went to inspect the gazebo.  The three had finished and were very proud of their work. Marianne was slightly tipsy, but even she realized that the floor where Sunny and Dawn would stand was uneven, a little wobbly in spots.  

As she went back and forth to see which planks were causing the issue, Bog said, “I fear the foundation wasn’t as even as required.”

“It’s possible.  Sunny isn’t perfect, either, but I don’t want it creaking or moving on them while they’re up here,” said Marianne, not sure what to do.  

“I have an idea,” interrupted Stuff, taking a bunch of leftover cloth leaves and ribbons. “Stick this in between and under the boards.  It’ll lessen the sound and make it look prettier.”

“Oh! I know!” said Thang, coming forward.  “We could also find some small pieces of wood for shims, hiding them under the leaves.”

“Quick thinking,” said Bog, grinning at their ingenuity.  “You both had a good idea for once.”

“That sounds perfect.  Can you find some shims?” asked Marianne.  “Stuff, if you can set aside the decorations you need now, I’ll take the rest with Bog and me to the other room.”

“Can do!”

While Stuff and Thang proved their usefulness, Marianne showed Bog the reception room.

“Woah.”  His mouth gaped as he beheld the room. “Is this Valentine’s Day and Fall combined?” he asked in awe.

“Something like that,” said Marianne.  “Just don’t touch anything on the ceiling.  You have no idea how long it took us to blow up all those red balloons and set it up in those nets above us.”

Besides the trees surrounding the room, there were bushes shaped like hearts and couples surrounding the room.  Little red hearts, spiral strips of orange and yellow, and cupid’s arrows covered the trees, bushes, and netting.  One bush was hidden off in the corner as it had words carved into it, spelling “LOFE”. It had more decorations on it than anything else.

“Come over here and see the main table,” she said after letting him take it all in.   

“Why are there so many little red hearts on this table?” he asked in horror.  “Is she trying to have confetti party of hearts?”

“You’re supposed to write little notes, or love notes, to the new couple and paste them into this booklet,” said Marianne, smiling.  “There’s markers and pens to use, and I love this tree Sunny made to hold all the cards.”

“He carved it all himself? Impressive,” said Bog, admiring the fine, smooth grain and staining of the cedar.

“Sunny has made so many little gifts like this for Dawn over the years.  How she didn’t realize he loved her after so many is beyond me, but that’s Dawn for you,” said Marianne with a good-natured shrug.  “Over here at the tables, we’re going to leave six leaves at every table, two of each color, along with these centerpieces Dawn made.”

“What is it with your family and trees?” he asked, admiring the things that Dawn had spent weeks cutting, painting, and glueing.  

“It’s in our family crest; we’ve always liked trees and nature,” explained Marianne.  “Mom wanted everything to be beautiful like nature. She was super into making organic buildings, and she loved the Arte Nouveau style most.  Her artistic style and love of nature was passed on to us.”

“She’d be so proud of you,” said Bog, touching her arm.  “Both of you, but especially you.”

“Thank you,” she replied, throat tight.

The rest of the setup went smoothly, and before she left, she was satisfied that everything would be perfect for the big day, especially the gazebo.  It was even and quiet, more beautiful than ever. She only finished half of the bottle of kahlua, but Bog promised that he’d save the rest for the reception for them to share.

“I’ll see you here soon,” said Marianne, hugging him.  “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  When you come back, we’ll both have transformed,” he said, referring to the suit that Sunny and Dawn had gifted him with in thanks for all his hard work.

He felt weird wearing the same suit as the groomsmen, but Sunny and Pare - the betrayer Best Man from the fair - had insisted. Dawn had begged him to accept it, and he had given in, as even he could not resist her puppy dog eyes.  Mostly he hoped that Marianne liked how he looked in it.

An hour before the ceremony began, Marianne arrived back, now fully dressed and primped.  Most of the photos had already been taken, but the first thirty minutes got some shots of the girls and groomsmen together before they got called away for the main event to start.  

It was ten minutes before the ceremony began that Marianne finally spotted Bog. Her mouth went dry; Bog cleaned up well. His black suit was perfectly tailored to fit him, and his dark red vest and tie suited him well.  His hair still looked natural, even if it was a little shorter and more tame.  

He wouldn’t be mistaken for a beatnik now.

When she finally got a hold of herself, she realized that Bog was just as absorbed in staring at her, based on the way his wide eyes and gaping mouth tried to take her all in, her knee-high dark red dress that had a flounce and fell off one shoulder.

“Well, how bad is it?” she asked, coming forward.  “Too much red?”

“Not on you.  I thought you and purple were perfect together; I was wrong,” he said.  “You’re perfect.” She blushed, and he started stumbling over his words more.  “You look good in everything, really, but this, this is just …”

He had no words.  He could stare more the closer he got.  She smiled before beckoning him closer with a finger.  “You look pretty amazing yourself. You’ll have every bridesmaid hitting on you by the end of the night.”

“I don’t want them, though,” he said, frowning.  “I just want y-to play with you and not be dragged onto the dance floor too much.”

Her breath caught for a split second as she wondered if she was imagining what he almost said.  “All the same, you look good, Bog. I wish I could walk down the aisle with you.”

She didn’t mind having Pare beside her since he was a decent guy, but even they didn’t match clothing-wise the way she and Bog did.  Plus, no one could beat Bog for companionship.

He blinked several times and didn’t respond.  When the silence became awkward, she realized how it could have been interpreted.

“I’m sorry! You know, as maid of honor and groomsman.  Or, we don’t. I’m sure you wouldn’t like it since we’d be the center of attention-”

“If you’re good being seen next to me, I don’t care,” he said, touching her hand gently.

“I’d prefer it if you wore a kilt, but I’ll work on that,” she said, winking.

It worked like a charm; he was soon blushing and moving away, afraid of mentioning the kilt.

“I still can’t believe you pretended not to know him at the Renaissance festival,” he said accusingly, glancing at the seats that were starting to fill up.  “You played me.”

“That would ruin the fun,” she said, shrugging.  “You know basically everyone there already; I could stand to know a few more. But I should get back to Dawn.”

“Of course.  Good luck, Marianne,” he said, taking her hands once more.  “I have faith in you.”

He brought them up to his lips for the lightest of kisses before disappearing.  As she collected herself, Dawn and her father snuck away from the scene they had been watching surreptitiously.  As they walked back, Dagda whispered, “I was wrong.”

When Marianne joined the rest of the bridal party in the back room, all were lined up, ready to go.  She made a beeline for her spot, not making eye contact with her dad. With less than five minutes before she went out, Dagda reached for her.

“Marianne, I’m sorry for my behavior and what I said a week ago.  I hope you can forgive me one day.”

She heard the sorrow in his voice, and she had seen enough of his looks from earlier in the week to know that he meant it.  She turned around and hugged him, saying, “Of course, Dad. I could never be mad at you forever. I just need you to trust me.”

“I’ll try,” he said, wiping away tears with his thumb.  “Good luck out there, Sweetie.”

Marianne tried to hold back tears as she walked down the center aisle to Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love”.  Finally she had found a way to make the song beautiful again, thanks to Dawn.  

Further behind her, she could hear her father telling her sister how proud their mother would have been, and all was as it should be.  The ceremony was picture perfect, short but beautiful in its simplicity.  

No one but Dawn’s immediate family and close friends understood why Dawn and Sunny went back down the aisle after kissing as a married couple to “Sugar Pie Honey Bunch”, but all of them who knew smiled.  The crowd cheered and sighed at the cuteness. Dagda cried. Marianne almost did, but Bog making funny faces at her kept her sane.

Amid the hubbub of people moving from one room to the next, no one noticed the extra guest who stole his way in, acting like he had been there the whole time. Dagda had invited him to come and had been looking for him the entire time, but Marianne knew him far better than Dagda ever would.

Bog came forward with Stuff and Thang as some of the first guests to greet the new couple. 

"Dawn, Sunny, congrats. This is Stuff and Thang, friends of mine. They fixed up the gazebo. Marianne invited them because they helped; I hope you're alright with that," he said, looking awkward. 

Dawn squeezed him tightly as Sunny gave firm handshakes of thanks to both. "Any friends of yours are welcome, Boggy. Thank you for being here. There's an extra table in the back where you two can sit."

As Stuff and Thang went in search of the extra seats - after dropping off the gifts they and Bog had brought - Bog began setting up his guitar at one side, taking a hard look at the DJ that had been chosen for the evening.

The name of the group was Plum and the Rude Mechanicals, and they did DJ music as well as live music. Plum was the DJ and main singer, apparently, but she seemed awfully familiar from somewhere….

When a white monkey suddenly appeared on Plum's purple hair, Bog remembered and couldn't believe the coincidence. He decided it best to just continue with tuning. 

He had barely sat down when a smooth, snide voice came from behind the red drapes that hid all the sound equipment. 

 "Do you really think Marianne likes a repulsive, awkward, scab like you? You dress well now, but you don't deserve her."

"Roland," said Bog with grit teeth. "Why are you here?"

He continued to sit as Roland leaned casually against the wall. If he stood, he would make a scene and do something he might regret. 

"Why else? To sing with her, to be with Marianne. She invited me, you know," he said, tossing his hair back. "Now that we're back together, she doesn't want or need you."

For a moment, Bog despaired. His time with Marianne had been amazing. It had only been a matter of time in his mind until the truth came that she didn't like him or want to be around him. All that people thought was love was indeed gratitude and nothing more. She hadn't shown the least amount of interest earlier in the day, even when he had kissed her hand, and now he knew why.

He was still too hideous to be loved. 

Roland waved to someone behind Bog, and he was depressed to see Marianne there, open-mouthed. She didn't say anything. He turned back around and stood up, resigned to his fate. 

Had he not turned around, he would have seen Marianne pull out her cell phone and call a good friend of his. 

"Her father told me so. She didn't want it to get out that we were back together … "

Bog's train of thought crashed into reason. Marianne wasn't talking to her father. He knew that for a fact. Those things couldn't have happened. 

Roland and Dagda were still in cahoots. Bog slowly put his guitar down, cracking his knuckles.

"Do you realize you're not welcome here? That you were purposely not told about the wedding by Marianne or Dawn?" asked Bog, standing at his full height.

The blond had the good sense to back up just a hair. Tall, imposing men who could actually fight were always dangerous to cowards and bullies like Roland. 

"But Dagda-"

"Is not in charge of this wedding. It's Dawn's special day, not yours," said Bog.

"Roland! It's good to see you," said Dagda, rushing forward at seeing the two men close to fisticuffs. 

"See? I'm welcome," said Roland, grinning. "He approves of me. You'll never be welcome."

"Considering the way he distrusts his daughters and their artistic talents, I don't want his blessing," said Bog, turning to face Dagda. "You have some nerve doing this to Dawn. Do you have any idea how much you're hurting Marianne by doing this?" he asked, almost shouting as he poked a finger into Dagda's chest. "No wonder you're not talking to her! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"Now see here," said Roland, gulping when all of Bog's ire was unleashed on him as he was pushed against a wall.

"You betrayed the most wonderful, fiery, unique woman; you deserve her far less than me. I, however, am content with friendship if that's all I can have." His choke hold on Roland tightened. "You are scum. You'll never have her."

Roland wasn't a clever man, but he had a sense of self-preservation that was far stronger than any other in existence. 

"She's damaged goods. She's mine," said Roland, watching Bog's shock and anger. He used that to his advantage, pulling on the red drapes. "And since she is coming, I think it's time for me to go."

The drapes fell and destroyed the aesthetic, and Roland used the falling drapes as an excuse to punch Bog in the stomach before he stole a bunch of flowers off the wall and knelt in front of an incredulous Marianne with a microphone he had stolen from Bog.

"Marianne, my love, I took care of an unsavory man for you. I pledge to you my undying-"

"Oh, stuff a sock in it and choke, Roland," said Marianne, using her heels to deliver a painful roundhouse kick, sending Roland flying to the floor. 

"But, Marianne-"

"Bog is too good for me. I don't deserve him," she said.

As soon as she saw Bog confront Roland, she took comfort in the fact that she could get Brutus over to remove the parasite once and for all. Seeing Bog then yell at her father warmed her heart in ways she hadn't expected. He was so protective of her.

To see him be hurt by Roland, though, and to know that he probably had to put up with some of Roland's cruel, manipulative words was too much for her. She had started to run toward the three, only for Roland to come to her.

Bog had put his guitar down for a second. In that brief moment, she had feared Bog would quit. The thought of him quitting, of leaving her life, was too much to bear. 

He couldn't leave. She loved him.

Her world was turned upside down by that simple realization, and she had to get to him, had to tell him how she felt. 

Roland panicked and threw out his arms, singing the first thing that came to mind. "Here I am, on my knees again. C'mon, Marianne." He paused when he saw his Buttercup make a fist and prepare to hurt him again. "Oh, darling! Please believe me. I'll never do you no harm-"

"Roland!"

All were shocked when Dawn suddenly appeared in front of Marianne and Roland. For once, she looked as angry as Marianne could, and her older sister had never been prouder.

"Dawn! I'm trying to make your sister the happiest woman ever! I bought a ring-"

"Get out of my wedding and reception. You're not welcome," she said, leaning down and getting into his face. "You are the scum of the earth, and I hate you."

"That's my sister!" cried Marianne, whooping with joy and pointing at Dawn.

Bog was up by then, rubbing his wound and making his way toward the women. He had never been more surprised.  And the surprises didn't stop, as that was when a police siren could be heard pulling up in front of the wedding venue. 

Upon hearing the cops, Roland tried to get up to escape, but Bog was faster. He tackled him to the ground, and when Brutus walked in with backup, the reception came to a screeching halt.

"I hear someone needs to be taken to jail?" he said, grinning and rubbing his hands excitedly as he looked down at Roland.

"What?" squeaked Roland. 

"Roland, I told you I was getting a restraining order. You're in trouble now," said Marianne, showing him the paperwork she kept on her. "Good bye, Roland. I hope someone punches you in a fight and shaves off your precious hair."

Roland's eyes went wide with fear.

"Ta-ta, stupid Roland," said Dawn, looking pleased. "Don't come back."

Ten minutes later, Roland was gone, and Marianne slammed the door behind. "Now that was fun."

All were chatting excitedly over the drama. Marianne pulled Dawn aside.

"I'm so sorry this had to happen today. You don't deserve this-"

"Are you kidding me? That was the most fun I've had in ages! " exclaimed Dawn, looking pleased. "My sister has justice and is free. And Bog was very gallant toward you."

"He's wonderful," said Marianne. "Thank you for inviting him."

"Go to him. I want to see you happy, Marianne. And be ready to play some music," said Dawn with a wink. 

"Got it. Love you, Dawn."

"I love you, too, big sister."

Marianne made her way to Bog, who was back to tuning his guitar.

"Bog, thank you for that. He's evil, and I'm sorry you had to deal with him."

"Anything for you," he said, pointing to her seat. "Ready to start this? Which song do we play for them coming in?"

"Plum is covering it since I have to walk in. But our first song will be the first one on this list," she said, pointing to it before squeezing his hand. 

"Oh. Right," he said, not expecting that. 

"Don't worry. You're stuck with me the rest of the night after this. That I can promise you," she said, leaning in and brushing her lips against his ear. "I can't wait for it."

He was speechless as she walked back. When she was settled, she nodded to Plum, who began introductions for the night. 

"Welcome, one and all, to the wedding of Dawn and Sunny Elfman! Let's welcome the entire bridal party, shall we?"

One by one, everyone was introduced with theme songs they had picked out. When Marianne was called forward, the cheers were mixed, but she barely noticed, as focused as she was on Bog. Bog grinned that she had "Barracuda" for her song with Pare. When she was seated beside Bog, he handed her a flask, which she happily gulped. 

"Will you all now rise? Let's give a big hand for Mr. And Mrs. Elfman!"

The Beatles' "Good Day Sunshine" suddenly started playing, and the couple waved to all enthusiastically, kissing when the song said, "I'm in love, and it's a Sunny Day."

After everyone was seated, Sunny and Dawn made their way to the musicians in the corner.

"As some of you might know, both Dawn and Sunny love to sing! In honor of this special occasion, the newlyweds have collaborated with Marianne and Bog to dedicate a song to their beloved. Sunny, would you like to go first? Please woo your new wife for us!"

Everyone cheered as Sunny took the microphone and stared at his wife. 

"This song goes out to the love of my life, Dawn. Nothing else in this world matters but you. In this life, it's just you and me."

At that, the opening chords of "Just You N Me" were played, and Dawn vibrated with excitement as Sunny sang to her. When he was all done, Dawn kissed him multiple times before allowing him to give her the microphone. 

"Next up is Dawn! Dawn, what have you prepared for your husband today?"

"It's a special song, one that always makes me think of him," replied Dawn. "No matter what has happened in my life, Sunny has always been there for me, this bright ray of joy that I'm so proud of and adore."

As the crowd made sounds of awe, Marianne and Bog started playing "You Are The Sunshine of My Life". Before long, Dawn was ditching the microphone and dancing with Sunny, twirling about.

When they were done, both went back to the musicians, more love in their eyes than ever before. 

"And now for the final song," said Plum, winking at Marianne.

Marianne had staged it with both separately that they would sing "You're My Best Friend" as the third song. They had told one another that they would each do one song, but both had secretly wanted to do a second. Marianne had been there for it, ready to laugh. 

When both began singing the song to one another, they stopped momentarily to laugh before taking the other's hand and singing it proudly.

Marianne had never seen anything cuter. 

Speeches were given, and the cake was cut. The official marriage certificate was signed. Marianne and Bog enjoyed playing the rest of their songs until they reached the end of their set and could join their respective tables. 

The father-daughter and mother-son dances were beautiful to watch, and then it was time for Sunny and Dawn to share their first dance as a married couple. Dagda chose then to approach his older daughter. She had done a good job of avoiding him since Roland's appearance, but he was persistent. Wanting to avoid anymore drama on Dawn's big day, Marianne joined Bog, Stuff, and Thang on the opposite side of the room.

"What kind of music will be playing from the live band and DJ? The band doesn't look ready," said Stuff, staring at the group taking over.

"There's a few dancing songs that Dawn wants played, so I'm sure Plum is playing those until they're ready," Marianne. "You all ready to dance?"

Thang nodded excitedly, and Bog looked green at the thought. She went to his side, nudging his elbow. "If we both act silly while dancing, then no one will care," she said. "C'mon, Bog! It'll be fun! Chilly down!"

Bog glared at her. "I don't like that song. Crazy beasts, that fire gang. I'd hate being in charge of them."

"Well, you're not," replied Marianne, stopping as Plum's voice filled the speakers.

"Good evening, all you wonderful people! After such an adorable display of dancing, let's have more join them! All together now! Come join the dance floor for a wedding favorite!"

Moments later, the Village People's "YMCA" was blasting for all to hear. 

"Really? She wanted this song at her wedding?" asked Bog as Marianne dragged him onto the floor.

"Yes. It's a classic. We're getting it over early, doing the well known one first. You have to stay for what I suspect is next: it's my favorite line dance," said Marianne, smiling.

"Is it complicated?" he asked as threw his arms in the air at the wrong time.

"Yes, much more than this," said Stuff, laughing at his inability to pick up on dance moves.

"I'm doomed," he groaned, eyes lifted to the ceiling. 

"Just follow me," said Marianne encouragingly. "It's like fencing-"

"But worse," groused Bog, making her laugh.

By the end of the song, Bog had almost learned to keep in sync with the music. The next song's melody sounded familiar, and then he saw everyone performing the Electric Slide. 

"This is the only Stevie Wonder song I won't dance to," he declared, trying to walk away. 

Alas, Sunny and Dawn appeared on his right and left side, and Marianne went in front of him. Stuff and Thang stood behind, boxing him in. 

"Stay!" cried Dawn. "It's so much. We'll teach you!"

"I'm going to look like the biggest fool ever," he grumbled, resigned to his fate. He tried for the first minute, and after that, he just made stuff up, not caring. It was worth it just to see Marianne's amusement every time she saw him do the YMCA dance. 

Finally, the live band kicked in, and KC and the Sunshine Band's "I'm Your Boogie Man" started them off. Dawn squealed, clapping at hearing some of her favorite disco as a disco ball suddenly dropped down in the midst of the ceiling decorations.

“Marianne, this is great! I love this surprise so much!”

“Let’s … go talk to Plum about this,” said Marianne, not remembering putting in or seeing that disco ball.

“Bog, let’s start dancing and set the example,” said Sunny, coming up to him.  “We can strike a pose and own it until those two come back.”

“You don’t want me dancing.  I’m going to sit. Sorry, Sunny,” said Bog, moving to leave.

“But-”

“Look, I’m not your Boogie Man; I’m your bogeyman,” said Bog, pretending to act like a vampire and leaning over, hissing.

Sunny squeaked and threw his hands in the air, only for more guests to gather around the two of them, others now acting like a vampire while others raised the roof.  Bog had to restrain himself from facepalming.  

“Great pun! No wonder Marianne likes you so much,” said Sunny, grinning.  “You’re a hit now! You have to stay!”

“Of course you do!” cried Dawn, having left the discussion between Marianne and Plum.  “Let’s boogie!”

She started jumping from one foot to the other, circling Bog as others continued to imitate Bog.  Bog made more menacing looks and raised his arms, but the face and motions grew more awkward and stiff the longer he remained on the floor.  However, he stayed, more to please the newlyweds who wanted him there.  

When Marianne came back, convinced that Plum was the gypsy from the Renaissance festival based on her furry stowaway, she still couldn’t explain how the older woman had managed to get that disco ball to appear.  As she walked back, she saw Bog’s helpless look, so she saved him by cutting in and dancing with him.

“Excuse me, it’s my turn to dance with Trouble,” she said, making Bog relieved as she slid her arms around him.

“He’s the Boogie Man!” said Sunny, raising a fist excitedly.

“Bogeyman,” corrected Bog, unable to look at him since he was distracted by Marianne.  

“This is what happens when you’re surrounded by musicians and people who love music and dancing,” said Marianne with a wink.  “There’s no escape for you now.”

“If that’s what it takes to be with you, there are worse things,” said Bog, making Marianne’s eye bug out.  

Dawn was behind Bog, so he didn’t see her triumphant grin, or the way Sunny and Dawn high-fived one another.  He saw the change in Marianne’s face and was worried for several moments, at least until Marianne’s eyes went back to normal as a slight smile appeared.

“Yes.  I think you’re stuck with me now.  Want to get something to drink?”

“Let’s go,” said Bog, dragging her away eagerly.  

Marianne waved goodbye to her sister, who didn’t even protest.  Once they had their drinks, she suggested they go outside to cool off. The two snuck out the back door, where Marianne immediately laid against the wall.

“I can breathe again,” she said, closing her eyes.  “Doesn’t it feel so much better out here?”

“Yes, but I fear that this cold air is having unintended side effects.  Bathroom,” said Bog, touching her cheek before rushing inside.

She sighed and enjoyed the relative quiet, eyes still closed.  It didn’t last long, though, before the door opened.

“That was fast, Bog.  Please tell me you didn’t spike the punch,” she said, half-serious.

“No, I didn’t, and I’m not Bog,” said an older male voice.

“Dad?” asked Marianne, startled away from the wall as her eyes burst open.

Sure enough, there he was, looking guilty. Dagda had been trying to talk to her throughout the night.  It seemed he wasn’t going away, and they were outside. Perhaps at least here they wouldn’t disturb anyone.  She knew what happened earlier needed to be addressed, as well as more from their last big fight. At least now, she knew what she had to do.

“I’m sorry, Marianne.  I had wanted to prove you wrong about Roland, and so I invited him.  That was exactly what you were trying to avoid, and I didn’t believe you.  Now I do,” he said, looking at the ground. “I have to ask forgiveness again. I promise I’ll never contact Roland again.”

"Dad,” she said, not expecting all of that.  She ran to him and hugged him. “Thank you for respecting me.”

“And if you do want to work with Bog-”

“I do,” she said with confidence.  “I need a change, a new perspective. A wider variety of coworkers and ideas.  It’ll make me a better architect.”

“I agree, however much I don’t want to lose you.  I hope that when you decide that it isn’t wise to work with him anymore, that you’ll come back to your first love and job.  It’ll be yours if you choose to come back.”

“Thank you,” she said, squeezing him tightly.  “But why do you think I won’t work with him forever?”

“Because eventually you’ll marry him and won’t want to work with him, in addition to living with him,” said Dagda, making her bark out a laugh.

“That was a fast turnaround,” said Marianne.  “You don’t even seem bothered by it.”

“It’s not often I meet someone who isn’t afraid to stand up to you and me and who loves you like he does.  I’ve never seen a more miserable man on the dance floor. Then he sees you, and it’s the exact look I see Sunny give Dawn.  That’s what I want for my girls at the end of the day, your happiness.”

A dopey grin filled her face. “Aw, Dad-”

“I’m just glad that you don’t hate love anymore. I thought you’d never marry,” said Dagda, making his daughter grimace.

“It wouldn’t have been that bad-”

“I don’t want you to feel what I felt when your mother died.  No one should be alone like that,” admitted Dagda quietly. “I didn’t think you’d actually find someone so similar to you.”

She chuckled at that as she pulled away.  “Yeah, he came out of nowhere, but he’s been the best accident and argument I’ve ever had.” She laughed harder as her father gave her a look questioning her sanity.

“Sometimes I wonder about you, Marianne.  Thankfully, you’re independent like your mother.  She would be proud of all you’ve done today,” said Dagda, motioning toward the door.  “I’m freezing.”

“Let’s dance; we can warm up inside,” said Marianne, heading on in.

The two had barely entered the main room when the band started playing “We Are Family”.  Both father and daughter danced, and the new couple were at the center. It was a great family moment for all, at least until Marianne spotted Bog out of the corner of her eye.

She had wondered earlier why he hadn’t come back outside, and she hoped he hadn’t been scared away by her father.  The more he watched in the back corner, though, the more withdrawn he seemed.  

“What’s wrong?” asked Dawn, tugging at Marianne’s elbow as Stuff and Thang made their way to Bog.

“It’s Bog.  I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?” asked Marianne, truly confused.  “Why won’t he join us?”

“Probably because he thinks that you don’t have feelings for him, that you’re just grateful for all his help,” said Sunny helpfully.

“That’s ridiculous! I’ve kissed him.  How could he-oh,” she said, noticing the smug grin Dawn’s face.  “You were betting on that, weren’t you?”

“You owe me,” sing-songed Dawn to her husband.  “I told you my sister likes to take the initiative.”

That was when the song ended, and another favorite of Dawn’s started playing: “Tell Him”.  Dawn cracked her knuckles, and Stuff and Thang were doing something very similar.

“What are you suggesting?” asked Marianne.

“Isn’t it obvious?” answered Dawn, pointing to the musicians.  “Exactly what they suggest: tell Bog how you feel. Tell him you like him.”

“Or that you love him. That’s pretty obvious at this point,” said Sunny.

“But I-”

“He doubts himself, just like I did,” said Sunny.  “Just end his misery.”

“Don’t you want to kiss him again?” asked Dawn, getting in her sister’s face.

“Yes, but-”

“Then tell him!”

Marianne was reluctant, but that was when she recalled how much Bog doubted himself and his looks.  It baffled her, but at the end of the day, she didn’t want him not knowing how she felt, especially since they had no official reason to meet up after today. There was only one thing to do.

“Alright, I’ll tell him.”

Dawn and Sunny hugged her excitedly, and Marianne mentally prepared herself, first going to Plum to request a song.  Then, she made her way to Bog.  

At the back of the room, Stuff and Thang had noticed the way both Bog and Marianne stared at one another as though they had lost the other.  Since they knew Bog best, they took their cue from the song that had just started playing and marched on over to their friend.

“You tell him.”

“No, you tell him,” said Stuff, pointing to Bog.  “He likes you better.”

“Really? I always got the opposite feeling-”

“What?” asked Bog, too annoyed to have much of a fuse.

Stuff elbowed her boyfriend, and he caved, as he always did. “Bog, you’re moping.  It’s not a good look for you.”

Their friend and employer’s face turned bright red.  “That is none-”

“It is when you’re being mopey and depressed for no reason,” interrupted Stuff.  “Marianne likes you. Haven’t you noticed how much she keeps staring at you?”

“She could have changed her mind thanks to talking to her father.  They’re pretty chummy now,” said Bog. “I thought I had a chance.”

“But you do! Go to her! Tell her how you feel,” urged Thang, motioning his head toward Marianne. “She’ll say yes.  She’s happiest with you.”

“Be honest.  Maybe she’s too afraid of ruining the friendship,” said Stuff.

“I am, too! What if she doesn’t like me?” asked Bog, a little terrified.  “This isn’t the time nor the place.”

“She does, you idiot.  It’s the perfect place! Dance with her; sweep her into your arms.  It would make Dawn happy,” said Stuff, grinning.

“Wait, really?” asked Bog, shocked.  

“She told me so herself earlier when she visited us at our table,” said Thang, starting to push Bog toward Marianne.  “Just tell her. You can thank us later.”

“What if it ruins the friendship?” asked Bog, genuinely worried.

“What if it changes your friendship into something even better, and you lost out on it all because you were too afraid?” asked Stuff.  “Are you willing to take that risk? Don’t you want to kiss her again?”

“Kiss her?” he asked, turning red in embarrassment again.  “I-”

“You’ve created a goblin character for yourself in D&D that just happens to complement Marianne’s fairy character, and you’ve already plotted how they’ll have a past as enemies fighting for the same thing, only to force them to work together now to find this love potion.  Tell me you didn’t plan on them getting together or kissing, or that you haven’t thought of kissing Marianne many times,” said Stuff, crossing her arms.

Thang nodded emphatically, and Bog knew he was beat.  He couldn’t lie well, and he had been planning both of those things the moment he knew she’d be playing Dungeons and Dragons with him.  He sighed.

“Alright, I’ll tell her.”

Stuff and Thang got out of his way, leaving Marianne directly in his path and line of sight.  She seemed reluctant, but she was smiling. Sunny and Dawn were nearby, giving him a thumbs up.  

How could it be? He hadn’t known these people a few months ago, and now he felt like he had joined the family and knew them almost as well as his friends.  Marianne, especially. He felt a connection to her like no other. She was everything he didn’t know he wanted, nor knew that he could have. She was a feisty, wild thing, and all he wanted was to share some part of the fire that burned within her and feed it with some of his own. He wanted to beat up every person who had ever hurt Marianne, and he wouldn’t even care if he went to jail.  She and her happiness were more important. 

He didn’t just like her; he loved her.  

That great, big realization scared him within an inch of his life, and all the same, his feet moved faster than ever, as though needing to tell her.  

This was a bad idea.  A terrible one.

The band started playing the Beatles’ song “Got to Get You into My Life”.

It was a great idea.

Before either one quite realized it, they were standing breathlessly in front of one another, trying to understand why both of them were staring, all the while wearing foolish grins and unable to speak.

“I-”

“Bog, I just wanted you to know that I accept your offer.”

“What?” he asked, greatly confused, his heartbeat racing.  “What offer?”

“Well, a week ago, you offered me a job.  I accept,” she said, putting out her hand to shake.  “I’m ready to work with you in every capacity.”

She watched his face and excitement droop at the mention of the job.  It was a minor setback, but she hoped it was because of something else.

 “Every?” he asked, not comprehending.

“Yes, every way, which brings me to your second offer earlier today,” she said, reaching out and touching his hand gently.

He leaned in to hear her almost-whispered words.  “I don’t remember doing so. Look, it doesn’t matter, though,” he said, his eyes seeking hers as his hands grasped both of hers.  “Because I li-oh bugger it all! I lo-”

Still he couldn’t get the words out.  He was too nervous for his own good, and Marianne thought it the sweetest thing.

“Maybe you should let me finish and take it from here,” she said, signalling to Plum, who looked on proudly.  

Plum snapped her fingers, and the band started playing the request with gusto.  Marianne grinned and leaned in until their lips were almost touching.

“You said that if that’s what it takes to be with me, there are worse things.  I agreed with you and told you you’re stuck with me. What do you think that means?” asked Marianne.

He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.  Finally he guessed, “That we’re friends?”

“We’re a bit more than that,” she said, kissing his other ear.  “Or, at least I want it to be more.”

He gulped, even as his heart soared.  The smile that began to form was one that Marianne would always remember.  “You do? That’s, er, I do, too.”

“Bog, I’ve liked you ever since the Renaissance festival.  However, it took the thought of losing you, of you being hurt by Roland to see the truth,” she said, pausing as she waited for the refrain of the song.  “Wild thing, you make my heart sing! You make everything groovy!”

Bog was unprepared for Marianne singing to him just like her sister had done earlier to her husband, but he was unable to breathe because he knew what lyrics came next.

“Wild thing, I think I love you.”  Marianne tugged his arms around her and stood on his feet to gain more height.  “But I want to kno-ow for sure, so come on, hold me tight.”

“I love you.”

For one perfect moment, they sang together, meaning every word.  There was no need for doubt or distrust; they had found exactly who they needed.  Bog wasted no time in doing what had been discussed between him and his friends: he kissed Marianne passionately, happy to do so anytime now.  He picked her up around her waist and began twirling her, and when they parted to catch their breath, both were grinning.

They were about to kiss again when they both heard deafening applause.  Dragging their attention away from one another, both were shocked to discover that everyone was watching them and cheering them on.  

Dawn, Sunny, Stuff, and Thang clapped loudest and made the most noise.  Plum looked on with pleasure, glad to see that her work was done at last . She wished they hadn’t been interrupted, but it was probably for the best: the throwing of the bouquet was scheduled to happen shortly.

Bog and Marianne joined their friends and family, and Dawn had just started asking her first question (of many) when Plum asked over the microphone, “Will Dawn and all the single ladies please come forward? It’s time to throw the bouquet.”

“C’mon, Marianne! I want you to catch it now,” said Dawn, dragging her sister to the center of the room.

Somehow, as if by magic, the bouquet landed directly in Marianne’s hands.  Both her and Bog avoided each other’s looks for a moment, torn between not wanting to rush it and looking forward to it already. The garter toss happened after that, and when Bog caught it, looking redder than a tomato, he was actually eager to start dancing, or really anything to get him out of the spotlight.

“It seems we’re meant to be,” said Marianne when Bog approached her, she near Plum.

“Yes.  This wasn’t how I imagined today going at all,” he said, handing the garter to Marianne to get rid of it, “but I’m happy about it.”

“Life never does go as expected when love gets involved,” said Marianne.

“Love’s got a strange magic all its own, wouldn’t you say?” asked Plum, winking.  

For a moment, both Bog and Marianne wondered if Plum really could see the future.

“Now, why aren’t you two lovebirds dancing? You should be dancing! Go on, shoo!” said Plum good-naturedly.

They walked away and almost risked another look at Plum when her band began playing “You Should Be Dancing”.  They wondered about her.

“Marianne, Bog, over here! Come and join the dance!” cried Dawn, waving them forward.  Once they began all dancing together, Stuff and Thang even joining in, Dawn sighed and threw her hands out.  “This is the best night ever! I don’t think there’s any way to make this celebration better.”

“I can,” said Bog, glancing at the ceiling and getting an idea.  “Tough Girl, my little rebel, shall we show your sister how to bring the house down?” he asked, putting his arms around Marianne’s waist.

She looked up and saw the red balloons.  Grabbing her pocket knife, she said, “Let’s give them some lofe!”

Dawn had thought putting up the balloons for decorating was fun.  Kicking them around and popping them in her sister’s, Sunny’s, and Bog’s faces was even better.

It was only the beginning of the joining of Bog and Marianne’s friends and family.

Chapter Text

"Pickle! Pickle! Get your - oh, looks like my lady purple fairy over there doesn't need one … she's got herself a true Scot," said the pickle seller.

Bog looked around everywhere for bagpipes or the like until he realized that the pickle seller was referring to him. Then he blushed.

Marianne took his hand proudly. "See? Even he recognizes Scottish royalty when he sees it. You look hot."

After she kissed his cheek, Bog felt a little better about wearing his favorite kilt in public. He felt awkward wearing a kilt normally, but Marianne was good at reassuring him every step of the way.

"I think he just doesn't want to deal with Bog; he's still a little scary looking when he's that tall," said Sunny, pushing a stroller of twins. 

He was still in his favorite elf costume, and Dawn was dressed as a fairy yet again. Her wings were even better quality that time, as were Marianne's: new, collaborative work and better money did wonders for the costume budget. 

It also helped that Bog and Marianne worked well together on a budget. While Bog usually recommended duct tape or WD-40 for all solutions, Marianne gave him more interesting problems to solve. 

Such as clothing the one month old twins of Dawn and Sunny. They took after their mother, with small tufts of blond hair and the brightest blue eyes. The desire had been to find a way to make them half fairy and half elf, so they dressed them in elf costumes and gave them tiny fairy wings that could attach to the back of the clothing, as well as could be expanded with the inner wiring to grow with the kids. Bog had never been so proud of his handiwork.

"I still can't believe Bog can trace back his roots to Scottish royalty. He really is a king," continued Sunny, patting his back.

"Or that Marianne is now one," said Dawn, coming from behind her sister and booping her on the nose. 

"She was always a Princess to me," said Bog, earning a playful whack from his wife.

"Keep that up, and I'll show Dawn every single one of your kilts. I know where they're hidden," threatened Marianne. 

Bog gulped, and Dawn begged her sister to show her anyway. 

"No kilts!" pronounced Bog, glaring at Dawn. "They're for Marianne's private viewing only."

Dawn pouted before wandering over to her husband. "Have you ever considered finding a mini-kilt?"

Bog and Marianne both laughed at a precious expression of horror and not knowing how to answer that was on Sunny's face. 

"Are you still happy we got married quickly?" asked Marianne, distracting her husband to give Sunny a moment. 

"Of course. I have no regrets concerning you," said Bog. "Why? Do you?"

"None. I got to work with you directly for six months, and I saw another world. It's cool, and I'm excited to be a consultant in future projects-"

"But?" he interrupted softly.

"Dad's right; I'm glad to be back in architecture. It's given me perspective and shown me why I got into architecture."

"So long as there was no truth to that nonsense that Stuff and Thang were spreading like goblin dung that you were getting tired of me," said Bog, taking her hand.

"None at all. I might have mentioned to them that I was ready to attach myself to you in every possible way, though," she said, grinning.

Bog looked around the area for his two friends who had wandered off earlier. "Of course they'd go and do that."

"You did propose; it was a wonderful surprise," she said, kissing his cheek. "I just wish you would've worn the kilt then, too."

"Fat chance. Given the choice between wedding photos that my children will one day see and Renaissance festivals where it fits in, the answer is obvious," said Bog, wrinkling his nose.

"But you do realize that Marianne's going to find a way to force you to wear that kilt every year, right?" said Dawn, winking at her sister. "Especially if I can convince Sunny to do so."

It was Bog's turn to look horrified like Sunny, and both sisters lived for it. Dawn patted his arm consolingly.

"I wouldn't force him, per se. I would encourage him and give him many reasons to do so," said Marianne, trying to sound reasonable and smiling brightly at her husband. When she leaned into Bog's ear, she added, "I'll make it worth your while later tonight."

"I'd rather we did so in the Dark Forest later," replied Bog in an undertone.

"That can be arranged," she said, too used to her husband's love of the outdoors. 

"Dawn, the jousting starts in five minutes!"

As the couple split up to go their separate ways, Bog said to Sunny, "Be strong. Don't give in to the cuteness and get a kilt. We'll be wearing them forevermore if that happens. We married men have to stick together."

"I'll try, but-"

"No buts. Do or do not; there is no try," said Bog, making Sunny shake his head.

"See you later, Bog. Have fun with Marianne."

Bog glanced at his wife, smiling contentedly. "I will."

Further away, the sisters wished the other well.

"I can't wait to see the face paint you give them later," said Marianne.  "They're so sweet."

Marianne had been there for her sister every step of the way through the pregnancy. It had been entertaining for Marianne, though, when she asked Dawn to be her maid of honor. All Dawn had to do was mention pregnancy or pregnancy hormones, and the vendors gave her the best deals possible for Marianne's wedding. Dawn got a fine baby shower as well, a high tea themed party where even Bog sat with a tiny teacup and looked much too big for all of it. Dawn had loved every second of it, so he endured the embarrassment. 

"My kids need more playmates."

"Dawn!" cried her sister, moving away from the whispered response. "There's two of them. We're not rushing things."

"Says the woman who's known her husband just over a year, seeing as we attended this Renaissance festival later this year," said Dawn, hands on her hips. 

Marianne shrugged. "I just know he's the one that I want."

"I can tell," said Dawn, smiling. "You're the cutest together, in your own way."

"I'm just glad Dad's gotten used to him," said Marianne.

"Oh! Guess what today is," said Dawn, changing the subject as she danced in place.

Marianne gave her a look of confusion.

She sang, "Do you remember the twenty-first night of September?"

"Is it seriously that day?" asked Marianne, checking her phone. "So it is."

"Love was changing the minds of pretenders while chasing the clouds away."

"You can stop now; why does that date sound familiar?" asked Marianne, checking her phone.

"Obviously because of the song. C'mon, Marianne! Join me! Our hearts were ringing in the key that our souls were singing as we danced in the night. Remember how the stars stole the night away-"

"That was the night of the first practice I had with Bog!" said Marianne, smiling warmly as Bog tuned in and noticed the date. "That was the beginning."

"Come and get your love. Come and get your love," said Bog, beckoning his wife forward.

Dawn and Sunny watched as the newlyweds greeted each other like they had been away from each other for a long time, hands tracing each other's faces greedily and eyes unaware that another soul existed. Seeing them happily situated, the new family made their way over to the jousting.

"So, what do you want to do now that we have escaped?" asked Marianne, breathless.

"Let's get lost in the Dark Forest, shall we?" said Bog, reaching out a hand to his wife.

She took it, and they shot off into the crowd. The trees came into view, and they were slowing down already when they saw a familiar cart sitting at the entrance to the Dark Forest.

"Well, well, if it isn't Bog and Marianne King," said Plum. "Love looks good on you. Do you believe in me now?"

"No," said both, even though Bog's answer was half-hearted at best. 

Plum harrumphed. "No matter. You're getting your fortune told anyway because the spirits insist on telling you that children are in your future."

"We already have-"

"Not blond-haired ones," said Plum, waving off Marianne's protests. "Dark, dark hair, like Bog's here. And brown eyes."

"Really? Are they girls?" asked Bog, his voice becoming soft and excited. 

Both women looked at him carefully. Marianne shook her head at Bog believing in such things despite being an engineer, and Plum just chuckled.

"Oh yes. Lots of girls for you," said Plum. "Congratulations. Now, go off and have fun in there," she said, pointing to the forest. "And before you leave, please, leave a contribution in the little box."

She held out a box, and Bog gave her whatever spare change he had. 

Marianne dragged him away. When they were some ways down the path, she hissed, "You don't actually believe her, do you?"

"You do recall what we've discussed previously," he said. "It could be a lucky guess, just like now."

"But you actually want this to come true," said Marianne, slowly, reading her husband correctly, "even though I want a boy."

"I want - you do?" he asked, his face changing dramatically. 

She grinned. "Let's stretch our muscles and get lost for a few hours, shall we?"

Nobody heard the squeals of ardor or joy shared between them, nor saw them until the Renaissance festival was about to close. Dawn and Sunny didn't mind; they just couldn't help but laugh that it became a yearly tradition for the two. 

Bog and Marianne wouldn't have it any other way, even after they had kids of their own. At that point, it became a family tradition, just as wearing a kilt did.