A/N: I had this idea, because all the other fanfictions out there are mostly angst. All the oneshots, anyways. I had to write it. There's a story behind the idea, which I will tell you when I'm done.

Help! Oneshots that AREN'T angst-y, WE NEED YOU! ((So that means get your arses up there.))

Disclaimer: If I'm Diane Duane, then the world is ruled by flying toasters wearing Santa hats.

All the benches were filled. The left half his family, and the right half hers. His half was much, much taller, and they had hair that seemed much longer than the normal human's. but that was beside the point. There was much muttering going around as people talked, while the rest were getting seated. Standing there, in a special tuxedo tailored to fit his abnormally tall size, Roshaun felt butterflies rise up in his stomach. He was nervous, and for once, he wasn't afraid to admit it.

He had agreed, though rather reluctantly, to have the wedding on Earth, the traditional way. In a chuch and everything. Or something like that. Was it a chuch or maybe a ruch? He forgot already, but he didn't care. At that moment, a loud kind of music Dairine said was called an 'organ' started playing. How did one play an organ? Weren't they inside your body? Anyways, the crowd of people all silenced themselves and turned to face the large doors at the opposite end of the isle.

A little girl, no older than six, maybe, came down the isle in a pink dress with a floofy skirt and poofy short sleeves, plodding happily in her shiny black shoes and little white socks with frills on the edge where they folded down. Roshaun couldn't remember who the girl belonged to, only that she pitched a huge fit until she had gotten her way on insisting she wear a headband made of flowers, and she got it. He would never be as irresponsible as that when raising the kids of his own.

Next, came a little boy. This one, he knew, was his little brother, Dallaa. His parents had been worried that Roshaun would never have kids of his own, so they had another son to take his place when the time came. The little boy came down the isle, poised erect, and holding out the red velvet pillow in front of him at a perfect ninety degree angle to himself, two golden bands situated on top.

Then, the Bridesmaids and Groomsmen came, each holding the arm of the other. Nita and Kit came up, dressed in outfits identical to the others like them, and they both smiled at Roshaun, who nodded, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead and off the tip of his nose. Maybe, if he was slick enough, he could scoot sideways out of the picture and make a getaway and nobody would notice?

The organ music struck up another tune, and every head turned again, to watch the two big doors at the end of the isle. That music was like a leash. Roshaun couldn't leave now. It was too late. Besides, curiosity overcame him. Earlier that day, he had tried to walk in Dairine's room to see her and get some reassurance and ask a couple questions about this mating ritual of hers here, but before he could get the door all the way open, an opposing force smashed against the other end of the door, saying it was NOT good luck to see the bride before the wedding, so go away dangit! Confused as he had been, he left her and the rest of the people in the room in peace for the rest of the day, and averting his eyes every time a female walked past him.

Now, he looked up from his feet, those of which he had been currently studying with mild interest, and his first impression was that of an angel. White, and lots of it. Linked arm in arm with the white angel, was Mr. Callahan. They walked so slow! Roshaun was resisting the urge to run up to her there and take her back there himself out of anticipation, but he didn't. it wasn't what they had practiced earlier. At the end of the isle, Dairine let go of her father's arm, and he hugged her and kissed his cheek, and Roshaun could see little tears in the corners of her eyes. Oh no! what had he done now to mess up? What was so bad that it made her cry?

She looked up, and when her eyes met his, he was overcome with a wave of calmness. She took the remaining steps forward, and stood, in front of him and facing him. Both of them smiled, and Roshaun felt purely at ease.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered on this most joyous occasion, to witness the bonds of love between these two people." he gestured to Roshaun, then Dairine. There was a pause after he said this.

Then, came a sound. For the people in the back, it sounded merely of a cough, but to those up in the very front rows, the ones closest to the altar…

"Your corsage is on the wrong side."

The silence ensued was deafening.

"No it isn't" came the reply.

"The love shared between the two, stronger than any power on the earth…" the Priest continued a bit hesitantly.

"Yes it is. It's supposed to be on the left side." Dairine said, slightly louder and gestured to the other side of his tuxedo, where the corsage flower was not.

"No, it's supposed to be here!" he nodded his head at the flower on his lapel. Dairine rolled her eyes in a very childish way, though not as childish as the reply that was to come of that; one that no adult should ever be caught saying.

"Yeah? Well, your veil is crooked."

"No it isn't!"

"Through sickness and in health-" the Priest was getting a bit unnerved at these two people. They didn't seem to show much love for each other. It was possible they were being forced to, or they were marrying for money.

"Yes it is!"

"No it isn't! I put it on myself!"

"Ah. That would explain why then." Dairine's eyebrows knit together and Roshaun began to smirk.

Seem to be getting along nicely, aren't they? Kit shot the though out at Nita, and glanced a look in both Roshaun's parents' direction as well as Diarine's, who were both shocked speechless, as was the rest of the crowd of people, listening to the two clearly audible now young couple argue their way through a wedding ceremony, right at the altar.

I can't believe she would do something like this… Kit could hear the embarrassment in Nita's voice.

"Well, your shoe is untied!" Dairine countered. Roshaun looked down at his shoe, ready to open his mouth and shoot back a retort on how it was not, when Dairine reached up and flicked his nose, like all the kids used to do in elementary school. Roshaun's glare was so heated, it melted the ice sculpture back in the reception room two blocks away, though that may have also had something to do with his wizardry. Dairine never faltered.

"Well, your dress makes you look fat!" Dairine gasped, as did the rest of the audience, and then stomped her foot in annoyance.

"It does not you meanie!"

Meanie? moaned Nita in her head. Kit resisted the urge to snigger, though it came at a great effort.

The argument continued, shooting insults back and forth, as the wedding guests watched in silent horror. This couple, arguing at the altar, on their wedding day, about how the dress made the bride look and that the groom's corsage was on the wrong side. Shouldn't all this be considered one big oxymoron?

"Umm, are you two ready to get married or not? Should I even bother to continue?" the Priest had one raised eyebrow, despite the shining face of his. Both of their heads turned so fast they swore it may have gone spinning off their shoulders. Fire in their eyes,

"If you're so concerned-" Roshaun started,

"-Then get on with it!" Dairine finished. Then they both turned back to each other.

"You interrupted me while I was talking!" they both bellowed at the same time. The priest shook his head in dismay. He was getting too old for this. It wasn't a wedding he would easily forget, though he had just lost forty IQ points, earned himself a few more gray hairs, and was thinking seriously of retiring on the spot then and there.

"Then do you, Roshaun, take Dairine to be your lawful wedded wife?"

"Yes Dairine, but-" he was still arguing with Dairine, but as long as he said the word yes, or any similarity of it, he would move on, weather he heard the priest or not.

"And do you, Dairine, take Roshaun to be your lawful wedded husband?"

"Maybe so, but you fail to realize-" the priest took it as a yes also.

"Then," he said loudly, so as to be heard above the arguing two and to be noted by the crowd of slack-jawed relatives and friends, "I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. You may-"

"Would you just shut up for a second?" Dairine shouted exasperatedly. Then she reached up, grabbed the back of Roshaun's neck, and brought his lips crashing down on hers, efficiently silencing him.

There was a large gap of silence between the point of impact and all pause and cheers, but it did eventually come. The priest, smiling slightly at himself for accomplishing such a tedious task. Although, when he stepped down off the altar, he was thinking firmly of a drink at the pub a few blocks away.

A/N: Well, how'd you like it? Yes, I know I made it a bit childish for adults at a wedding, but here's the story behind it all.

So I have this friend, we'll call her 'Mary' ((I'm leaving real names out for privacy purposes)) and a guy friend called 'Bob'

Well, I used to like Bob. And our form or talking, ((or flirting, according to Mary)) was arguing. And we would do it CONSTANTLY. Well, I don't like him anymore, but we still argue all the time! Over the littlest things! So it is Mary's prediction that he and I will one day grow up and get married, and this will be our wedding. Argument and everything. And then I was reading WaW and I saw the very eerie similarities between Dairine and Roshaun and Myself and Bob. Thus, the story was born.

Flames accepted.