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Francis felt like he was going insane. He couldn’t stop replaying Patrick’s words in his head, and it was preventing him from sleeping properly.
“I’m a Dooley, and you’re a Dooley by common law," Patrick had said, back in Ireland, in front of the other Dooleys.
You’re a Dooley by common law.
There was only one possible thing, logically, that that could be referring to. Francis knew this. He’d even looked it up frantically after they had finished that investigation, wondering if there was some bizarre esoteric meaning that Patrick might have meant- after all, Patrick was a strange guy sometimes.
But he could not, for the life of him, find anything besides the first meaning that had come to mind when Patrick had said that.
Common law meant common law marriage. As in, two partners who, despite not being technically married, could legally count as married based on a certain set of criteria.
Get a grip, Frankie. He was just being silly, he might not mean anything by it, he thought firmly, trying to force himself to go to sleep.
But his brain wouldn’t let him. He kept replaying the words, analyzing them, remembering the definition of common law.
“The marriage occurs when two people who are legally capable of being married, and who intend to be married, live together as a married couple and hold themselves out to the world as a married couple,” Francis recited aloud, staring blankly at the ceiling as he laid on his back in bed. He wondered, not for the first time, if he was losing his mind. He had read the Wikipedia article on common law marriage so many times at this point that he could recite the “Terminology” section from memory… was that crazy?
It probably is, he thought, still staring at the ceiling. But how am I supposed to not go crazy when he goes around saying things like that?
They didn’t even live together, so technically that disqualified them from being classified as common law married. So what on Earth was Patrick talking about?
Could it be the “legally capable of being married part”? Anyone who’s a consenting adult can legally be married. Maybe that’s all he meant…
But that doesn’t make sense. He’s never said something like that to anyone else before. So which one of those criteria do we meet? Which one is unique to us?
The “intend to be married” bit wouldn’t make sense either. If he intends to marry me, that would be news to me, considering we’re not even dating, and he’s never said anything before… not that I would mind, but…
The only criteria that leaves me with is “holds themselves out to the world as a married couple”. Do we do that?
He sighed and sat up, looking out the window and up at the moon.
“This is all your fault,” he told it. It did not respond, as usual.
He sighed again, more heavily this time. This entire situation had kept him up for several nights now, ever since they’d flown back from Ireland, and as a result he was exhausted, disoriented, and had had to see the moon way more often than he would like. There was no denying it: he had to figure out how to resolve this, before the sleep deprivation got to a concerning level- well, more concerning than it already was.
“But how?” he lamented aloud, before heaving a sigh. He already knew the answer, he just didn’t like it.
There were only two ways to move past this. Number one: accept that he didn’t understand what was going on in Patrick’s head, and move on. That seemed like the better, more logical option, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
The second option was to ask Patrick what he meant by it. It was a very direct option, and was almost guaranteed to get Francis closure on the matter.
But what if the answer is…
He wanted Patrick’s comment to meant something. But what if it had meant nothing? What if it was just Patrick misunderstanding the phrase? What if, what if, what if?
Calm down, he scolded himself. Just accept you can’t read his mind and move on.
He sat in bed, dark circles under his eyes. Across the apartment, the light from his computer illuminating the living room, the screen displaying the Wikipedia page for common law marriage.
It didn’t take long for his resolve to break. Less than a minute later, he was at his landline phone in the kitchen, dialing one of the only two numbers he knew by heart.
“Hello?” Buzz answered on the other end. “Who’s calling at midnight?”
Francis cringed at the callout of the time, embarrassed. “Sorry, Buzz. I just need to talk to Dool- er, Patrick. Is he awake?”
“Nah. But he’d want me to wake him up if you called, so just hang on.”
Feeling a little bad, but needing answers, Francis did as he was told. He heard Buzz set the phone down, and his footsteps receding from the room. He heard a couple of distant voices, and then a crash, before another, heavier pair of feet came running, and then Patrick was at the phone, breathless.
“Francis! Is everything okay?”
Francis chuckled a little at Patrick’s earnestness, his heart welling up with affection. “Hey, Patrick. Yeah, everything’s fine. I just couldn’t sleep… I wanted to ask you a question."
“I’m always here for you.” Patrick sounded touched. “I’m so glad you called. What’s the question?"
“Um…” Now that the moment had arrived, Francis suddenly felt nervous. Briefly, he considered making up a fake question, but he vetoed that idea quickly. Not only would that not get him the answers he needed, but Patrick would probably see right through it anyway. “I was.. well… when we were in Ireland, you said something…”
“That I did,” Patrick said, when Francis trailed off. “Uh… which thing?”
“The… the thing about… me being a Dooley by common law,” Francis said, his heart thumping in his chest. He wondered, suddenly, if he was about to faint. “What... um, what did that mean?”
There was a beat of silence before Patrick replied, sounding confused. “What do you mean, what did that mean?”
“I… I mean… well, common law means… common law marriage… right?” He cringed at the clear shakiness in his own voice. God, Frankie, pull yourself together!
“Yeah, what else could it mean?” Patrick asked, sounding concerned. “Francis, are you okay? You sound a little faint.”
“Totally fine,” Francis lied, feeling more than just a little faint. “Just, uh, confused, because we… well, we don’t live together, and we… um… we aren’t…”
We aren’t together, and we don’t intend to get married, he tried to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. He wasn’t a huge believer in manifesting things through words, but if there was anything he didn’t want to take a chance with, it was his relationship with Patrick.
“We aren’t what?”
“…We aren’t… well, dating,” Francis said, weakly.
There was a long, long silence from the other end, and then Francis heard, to his immense confusion and alarm, a choked sob.
“Are you breaking up with me?” came Patrick’s voice, watery and shaky and so, so sad.
Francis felt his entire world grind to a halt.
“Huh? Patrick, what are you t-”
“Wh- Why? What did I do? Whatever I did, I’m sorry,” Patrick blurted, sounding like he was really beginning to cry. “Was it because I ate all the fries the last time we went to get burgers? I- I’m sorry, I know you like them-“
“Patrick, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Francis said, entirely unsure what was happening, but wanting to comfort Patrick anyway. “I’m not mad at you at all.”
“That’s even worse,” Patrick wailed. “You don’t even care anymore?”
“What? Patrick, of course I care about you! I care about you more than anything. But since when were we dating? I didn’t know anything about this!”
Now it was Patrick’s turn to sound confused. He sniffled wetly. “Wh… huh? But… you named your cat after me…”
“Yeah, because I missed you,” Francis said, softly. “Didn’t I tell you that?”
“Well… well, yeah, but…” Patrick sounded so small and unsure of himself, and Francis hated that he had put that uncertainty there. He mentally promised to absolutely spoil Patrick with love after this, if their relationship survived this conversation. “You adopted a cat. And gave it my last name. And raised it.”
“…I did do that,” Francis said, wondering where this was going.
“Doesn’t that make her our daughter? Doesn’t that mean we’re a family?”
No fucking way. Seriously? Francis didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry at the absurdity of the situation, but he didn’t do either- he didn’t want to hurt Patrick’s feelings any more than they already were.
“No,” he said, slowly. “Not inherently. At least, I didn’t know that’s what that meant. But- but it could mean that… I- I mean, if you wanted.”
There was a pause from the other end, and then a small sniffle. “Really?”
“Really.”
“…I’d love that, Francis.”
Hearing the hope and the happiness come back to Patrick’s voice was like watching the sun come out from behind the clouds. Warmth bloomed in Francis’ chest, and he smiled, leaning against the wall for support as he sagged a little in relief. “I really would too. But hey, that means we have to start going on actual dates now, you know.”
Patrick laughed wetly. “We already go on dates, though. I mean, we literally went bowling last week, and I’m coming over tomorrow to watch that new vampire movie. Oh, God, I’m so glad you weren’t breaking up with me. I would’ve spent all of tomorrow crying. And the next day. And the next year.”
Francis’s heart ached. “Oh, Patrick. I’m so sorry for scaring you like that. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“You don’t have to,” Patrick said. “You were just confused. I’ve forgiven you already. Besides, I guess your confusion makes sense. I haven’t exactly been acting like a good dad to PD…”
“Yeah, where’s the child support money?” Francis teased, smiling fondly when he heard Patrick laugh on the other end. “I demand a bag of catnip every month.”
“You just want the catnip for yourself,” Patrick said, his voice still trembling ever so slightly, but sounding genuinely happy now as he went with the joke. “Also, isn’t child support for people who are divorced? We just started dating, Francis, don’t do this to me.”
“Oh, yeah,” Francis said, pondering. “Well, in that case… I demand that you… um…”
“You don’t have to make any demands of me, Francis.” Patrick’s voice was soft now, full of affection. “I’m gonna be such a good boyfriend, just you wait.”
“Oh, Patrick. You already are. I’m the one who needs to step up his game.”
“We can both step up our game. We’ll have the best relationship ever. Everyone else will be jealous.”
Unable to stop himself, Francis let out a loud laugh. “What is this, ranked competitive dating?”
“Definitely,” Patrick said eagerly, any trace of sadness or fear now fully gone from his voice. “Hey, you can’t tell me you don’t want to see McKing get jealous of us.”
“Oh, that is a good mental image. Okay, you’ve convinced me. But honestly, I don’t think we’ll have to try to make him jealous.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. We’re gonna be so cute without even trying.”
They laughed, and the two of them ended up talking for hours, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
———
The next day was a Saturday, so they didn’t have to go into the precinct. Francis woke up around 11am, a little groggy, but feeling like he’d slept better than he had in years. He took a moment to just bask in the feeling, his chest warm and light from all the affectionate conversation from the night before.
Best phone call I’ve ever made.
Suddenly, he heard a loud series of knocks on the door, and he sat up, frowning. No one ever knocked on the door- he never had visitors except Patrick, and Patrick had a spare key and just let himself in.
“Who…?” he mumbled, not even bothering to finish the sentence as he got out of bed, going straight to the door in his pajamas. “Better not be a salesperson or something…”
When he opened the door, he was met with Patrick’s beaming face. Both of his arms were occupied, holding several paper grocery bags between them, which explained why he hadn’t used his key.
“I’m here to be a good dad,” Patrick announced, peering at Francis over the tops of the bags. “I got cat food, catnip, cat toys, even a cat hat! I also got something for you. Because I’m being a good boyfriend too.”
Startled, Francis laughed, a blush appearing on his cheeks as he stepped aside to let him in. “Patrick! Didn’t you get any sleep? We were up until 2.”
“I was just so excited,” Patrick gushed, stepping through the door and setting down all of the bags except one. One of them fell over, and the cat hat fell out. It was a little party hat, with a strap. Unable to suppress his smile at how adorable the whole situation was, Francis followed his boyfriend as he walked towards the small table where he usually ate breakfast. “I slept for, like, four hours, and then I woke up all jittery! I had to do something!”
“Well, I slept well for the first time in months,” Francis said, amused. “I literally just woke up, actually. Talking to you really soothed me.”
“Aww,” Patrick cooed, looking genuinely touched. “Well, you’ll appreciate this, then, since you just woke up. I got you coffee! And popcorn! For the movie!”
“Patrick,” Francis whined, drawing out the name as a coffee cup was pressed into his hand. “This isn’t fair. I’m supposed to be spoiling you. Stop being perfect.”
“Nope,” Patrick said, popping the p at the end of the word. “Can’t. You deserve only the best."
Francis hid his blush by taking a sip of the coffee.
———
He managed to get Patrick back in under a week, when he showed up to the Dooley’s place to pick him up for a date- their first proper date.
He had just parked on the street, and was about to turn off the car and walk up to the door, but Patrick beat him to the punch, flying out of the front door as soon as he pulled up. Francis smiled fondly as he watched his best friend- and now, boyfriend too- literally run across the driveway, practically vibrating with excitement.
“I like this whole dating thing,” Patrick was already talking as he opened the passenger door to let himself in. “It’s so exciting and- oh, Francis, are those for me?”
Face flushing a little, Francis held out the bouquet of flowers, trying to will his hands not to shake. It was a mix of sunflowers and red roses- Francis didn’t know much about flower language, but he was sure red roses meant romance, and he couldn’t not get sunflowers after learning about how connected the Dooleys were to the sun.
“I was gonna show up to the door with it, but you kinda beat me to the punch,” he said sheepishly, watching as Patrick took the flowers with sparkling eyes.
“Francis, I… I don’t know what to say!” Patrick said, blushing brilliantly, looking delighted. “They’re beautiful!”
“You’re beautiful,” Francis said before he could stop himself, but he found that he had zero regrets as he watched Patrick somehow manage to blush even brighter.
———
“Wait, REALLY?” Raxa’s eyes were wider than Francis had ever seen them.
He flushed, folding his arms. “Not so loud! Doris is gonna kill us.”
“Not my fault you’re telling me this at the library.”
Francis looked at her, unimpressed. “Raxa, it literally is your fault. You refused to meet anywhere else because you’re ‘studying too hard and finals are gonna kill me’.” He made air quotes around the last phrase.
She rolled her eyes. “Well, if I knew it was going to be such important news, I would have been willing to abandon my studies for a little bit. At least five minutes.”
“I didn’t realize you were so invested in my love life.”
“Well, not your love life in general. Like, if you started dating some rando, I wouldn’t really care.”
“So you’re invested in Dooley’s love life? That’s not better.
“No, dumbass. I am invested,” she drew out the word like she was spelling it out for someone who wasn’t particularly bright, “in you and Dooley getting together specifically. Like, finally. I was wondering if it would ever happen, or if you guys would spend your whole lives awkwardly pining. Now- details! Who confessed?”
“Uh…” Francis looked sheepish. “No… one? He actually thought we were dating already. He thought me naming PD after him was… like, me subliminally telling him we were married and a family…?”
Raxa’s eyebrows raised, but she didn’t say anything, clearly invested in the story.
“So he made a comment, last week, about me being a ‘Dooley by common law’, and I stayed up for like, four nights trying to figure out why he said that,” Francis went on. “And then I called him at midnight, and asked him what he meant by that, and he freaked out because he thought I was breaking up with him.”
Raxa actually laughed out loud at that, earning herself a pointed “shh!” from a couple aisles over. “Oh my God, that is priceless.”
“Hey, it was very nerve-wracking at the time!” Francis said, folding his arms. “I was trying to comfort him while being possibly more confused than I had ever been before.”
“Wow, more confused than ever before? Pretty high bar for someone who frequently deals with a confusing alternate dimension.”
“And I stand by my words.”
“Fair enough.” Raxa held up her hands in mock surrender. “So what happened next?”
“Well, I managed to figure out why he thought we were dating,” Francis said, smiling as he recalled the memory. “And I told him I didn’t know that naming the cat after him meant that we were dating, but that it could mean that if he wanted. And he did. And now we’re boyfriends.”
“Sounds like you’re technically the one who confessed,” Raxa said with a smirk, looking satisfied at the amount of details she had been given. “Weird way to get together… but weird is kind of your guys’ brand, so it’s cute.”
“…Thanks?” Francis frowned. “I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not."
“Totally a compliment,” she affirmed, grinning. “I’m so gonna make fun of Dooley for this the next time I see him.”
———
“I think there can be two Bloodalphas,” Armelia said, sitting on her bunk in the Camp Site cabin.
Emily frowned, pacing the room. “No way. He may be dating Bloodalpha Dooley now, but he can NEVER usurp him. He’s a Bloodbeta at BEST.”
“What about at worst?” Devon asked.
Emily paused her footsteps, considering the question. “Bloodomega.”
“There are other Greek letters besides alpha, beta, and omega, you know,” Francis said dryly from where he was standing in the doorway, hand in hand with a beaming Patrick.
“Nuh-uh,” Emily said. “If there were, I’d know about it. I read omegaverse fanfiction, and there are only alphas, betas, and omegas.”
“What… what is omegaverse.”
Armelia looked out the window, a faraway look in her eyes. “He is too pure… we must protect him...”
“Why are you talking about me in the third person? I’m standing right here."
“Because this is a Bloodwolf matter, and you are an outsider,” Emily huffed. “You’re about to be part of the pack once we figure this out, but you aren’t yet, so no say for you.”
Francis sighed in resignation, but did not argue.
“Sorry, future-Blood-something McQueen,” Patrick said to his boyfriend, not looking sorry at all. “Bloodwolf matter.”
Rolling his eyes but smiling fondly regardless, Francis planted a soft kiss on Patrick’s cheek. “You’re lucky I like you so much.”
“Don’t do that,” Devon said, alarmed. “My parents say that if you kiss, you can get germs.”
“Don’t worry, Devon,” Patrick said. “We have all the same germs, so we can’t infect each other! It happens as soon as you start dating. It’s wireless.”
“Oh, good!” Devon looked relieved. “I didn’t know wireless germ transfer was a thing. I feel a lot better now!”
“The idea of wireless germ transfer makes you feel… better?” Francis asked, incredulous.
“Oh, definitely!”
“Devon, focus! We have to figure out what the detective’s gonna be,” Emily said. “What do you call two wolves who are dating?”
“I don’t think wolves date,” Armelia said thoughtfully. “They do mate for life, though."
Emily turned to Patrick. “Have you guys mated yet?”
Francis clapped a hand over Patrick’s mouth before the officer could answer, his face crimson. “That is none of your business, young lady,” he said sternly, trying to inject as much authority into his voice as he could. “Entirely inappropriate question to ask an adult. Or really anyone.”
“So yes,” Emily said, entirely unbothered. “Armelia, you’re a genius. He can be Bloodmate McQueen!” She high fived the other girl, satisfied
“I’m fine with anything,” Devon said cheerfully, looking like he was just happy to be included.
His new title finalized, the Bloodwolves rushed to surround Francis, chanting. “BLOODMATE MCQUEEN! BLOODMATE MCQUEEN!”
“Why,” he said, helplessly, covering his flushed face with both of his hands. “Just why.”
———
It turned out that Francis was right about McKing. They didn’t need to try to annoy him; they were adorable enough that it just happened, even when they were just being themselves.
However, Patrick was also very right about how fun it was to mess with him on purpose, and mess with him they did- kissing in front of him, calling each other increasingly ridiculous pet names in front of him, just generally being sweet in front of him. On one memorable occasion, they had showed up with purposely messed up hair and untucked shirts, and then when he went to complain to Scully about unprofessionalism, they had quickly fixed it before she could see. The look on McKing’s face when she had walked in and saw them looking perfectly clean and innocent was priceless.
Of course, the price of annoying McKing was that he felt like he needed to get even. At first, he tried flirting with Dallas in front of them, but they were already used to it and just rolled their eyes. Then he tried hitting on Scully, but it backfired, and she wrote him up for harassment.
So he resorted to trying to convince Francis that Patrick was cheating on him, and when he was met with a stone-faced cold shoulder, he tried to use the same tactic on Patrick, who just laughed in his face.
“I really wonder what he’s going to try next,” Francis mused one day as they ate lunch in his office together. “How do you top trying to convince a couple that they’re cheating on each other?”
Patrick hummed thoughtfully, swallowing his mouthful of food before answering. “No idea. Maybe he’ll start a fight with us or something. Ooh, I hope he does, actually. I’m way stronger than him.”
“What if he starts it with me?” Francis asked. “I’m not nearly as strong as you. He’d probably actually hurt me.”
Patrick frowned. “Then I would avenge you.”
“Avenge? I won’t be dead… well, at least I hope not.”
“Maybe you won’t be dead, but he will be when I’m done with him,” Patrick said casually, without a second thought.
“Dooley, that’s murder,” Francis said, even as his heart fluttered at Patrick’s protectiveness.
“Francis, I would literally break any law for you.”
“Don’t say that. There’s some pretty messed up stuff that’s illegal that I would not want you to do, even for my sake.”
“But it’s not as romantic to say ‘I’d break almost every law for you’.”
“That is plenty romantic.”
Patrick laughed. “We need to work on your standards, detective."
———
“Patrick, I told you poor Francis didn’t know you were dating! Francis, I’m so sorry about my brother. Honestly, the assumptions he makes…” Patricia huffed as she fussed over the two of them, corralling them into the dining room.
“He started crying when he thought you were breaking up with him,” Buzz told Francis casually as he followed them, without looking up from his JoyChild. “I heard him from the living room. I knew you weren’t dating in the first place, though, so I wasn’t worried.”
“Did everyone know this but me? Why did neither of you tell me?” Patrick whined, sitting down at the table. “Betrayed by my own flesh and blood…”
“Patrick, we did tell you,” Patricia said, unimpressed. “You ignored us."
“When I tried telling him, he just laughed and said ‘kids these days’,” Buzz said as he took his seat, eyes still glued to his console.
“I thought you were just trying to be edgy!” Patrick said defensively. “Trying to destroy my perfect relationship!”
“Can’t destroy what doesn’t exist.”
“Boys,” Patricia said sternly, before sighing and turning to Francis, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry about them, Francis. You know, you really always have been one of the Dooleys, but I’m so glad that it’s a little more official now. I just hope that when you boys get married- not just common law married this time, Patrick- I get to be the maid of honor!”
Francis blushed brilliantly, but beamed up at her from where he was sitting. “Thanks, Patricia. That really means a lot.”
She grinned, giving him a hearty pat on the shoulder before walking off towards the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “Patrick, you better not mess this up! I like Francis!”
“Yeah Patrick, don’t mess it up,” Buzz said, some 8-bit sound effects coming out of his JoyChild.
“I wasn’t planning to!” Patrick cried, his face beet red. Beside him, Francis laughed a little despite himself, his heart filled to the brim with affection.
———
“I don’t think we had a single normal reaction to us getting together,” Francis mused a few weeks later, as they sat on the couch in his apartment. “Everyone was so invested. In various ways.”
He was reading a book, an occult book they’d found on their last case. Ever since discovering that McKing had just been throwing away their evidence, he’d begun just keeping some of it, figuring no one would care. Beside him, Patrick was sitting as close as possible to him, pressed up against his side, watching him read contently, a mug of hot chocolate in his hands. It was topped with extra marshmallows.
“It’s because we’re so compelling,” Patrick said, looking satisfied as he took a sip from his mug. “This is like a TV show for all of our friends, but in real life.”
“I guess so,” Francis said, turning the page and examining the runes drawn on it. “I didn’t realize pining for decades was particularly compelling. Don’t people like things that are fast-paced?”
“What? Maybe if you’re watching, like, trash TV. Which I do watch, by the way. No shame. But slow burns are super compelling! The yearning, Francis, the yearning!”
“I did do a lot of that,” the detective admitted, looking away from the book to smile at his partner.
“Me too,” said Patrick. “So much of it. Who do you think yearned more?”
“What?” Francis laughed. “What is this, a competition?”
“Yeah, and I’m gonna win,” Patrick said. “I’ve had a crush on you since the scout days!”
Francis smirked. “I memorized your class schedule in high school so I could run into you in the halls.”
“Woah, no way!” Patrick’s eyes were sparkling. “Really?”
“Yeah, college too,” Francis admitted, looking a little sheepish. “Honestly, I was kind of worried I was being weird about it at the time.”
“Oh, you were definitely being so weird,” Patrick said, but he was grinning, preening under the attention. “But I really like it. Did you watch me exercise from your dorm window? I exercised outside your window on purpose.”
“Patrick! Really?”
“Aww, so you didn’t watch?”
Francis blushed. “I never said that.”
“You did watch!” Patrick perked up. “Yes!”
“Aren’t you the one who called greenhouses exhibitionist?” Francis scoffed. “You’re one to talk when you literally exercised right outside my window on purpose."
“Greenhouses are exhibitionist,” Patrick said sagely. “Those plants are perverts. I never said I wasn’t one too. Takes one to know one.”
“Patrick!”
“You’re one too! You watched me, which makes you voyeuristic!”
“I thought this was a yearning competition. Why are we talking about voyeurism.”
“It’s part of the yearning.”
Francis laughed, genuinely and happily.
“Patrick?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you. Never change.”
It was a phrase that Francis said often. Whenever Patrick did something he found funny or endearing or sweet, he would look at Patrick with enough adoration to make his knees go weak, and say, “never change”. It always made Patrick feel so special, so loved. He felt his face bloom into a wide, happy smile as he looked back at his partner, more excited than ever to see what the future had in store.
“I love you too, Francis. You’re perfect.”