Hey all are you ready for our favorite couple to come back and cause more mayhem? I hope so and before we start I just want to say thank you to everyone who is still with me on these two and especially to my lovely reviewers. Fingers crossed you like this one as much as you liked all of the others before it!

Let's go then!

The Mac To My Cheese

"Uh oh."

I blinked as the familiarly gruff tones broke through the relative peace of the night and then padded towards me sluggishly on the carpet before falling down heavily into the cushion by my side. Dean was looking back at me smirking lopsidedly and to say the look confused me was an understatement,

"What?"

He gestured towards the flickering flatscreen and then waved his hand around,

"Weddin' shit already huh?"

Following his gaze I belatedly realized that I had been vaguely half-watching some uber cheesy Hallmark film and one which had apparently reached the super big finale since the pretty lead female character with perfect hair in loose ringlets was slipping like a princess into a pristine wedding gown, flanked by a woman that I assumed was her fake mother shedding crocodile tears and saying how beautiful she looked.

I blushed a little,

"I wasn't – I mean I wasn't trying to – ,"

"Princess," Dean reached over and patted at my head, smoothing my hair like I was some kind of labrador instead of his recently minted fiancée but making the movement so warming and easy that I ended up liking it so toppled over into his space.

"Mmmm."

I landed up against his broad chest pretty heavily but then proceeded to immediately bed myself in, tucking my arms in tight around his body and then using his abs like the best pillow ever made, or potentially the world's most hunky bed linen or more than likely both.

He was too perfect to be real.

His lips found out my crown and then pressed a kiss against it but it tickled and so I let out a tiny little laugh, which then turned into a full blown case of the giggles as he repeated it until I was forced to poke him in the ribs,

"Why are you so mean to me? Stop it."

Dean raised a brow at me,

"You think I'm mean to you huh?"

"I mean this is practically an abusive relationship."

"Ouch."

He threw me an actual pout in response to that which I could only really see by craning my eyes up but sure enough, his bottom lip was sticking right out and so I lifted a finger and pushed it back in which then predictably laid me wide open to a bite.

Snap.

I squeaked as his canines closed in gently over the tip of my newly painted nail, which had taken me literally hours to get perfect without either smudging or somehow messing it up and which had pretty rapidly made me remember precisely why I never bothered with it much, since having your fingertips looking a pretty color was not even remotely worth the mental breakdown it threw up. Plus because I had the crazy sort of a boyfriend who liked to bite things including me.

Oops.

Fiancé –

Dean and I were engaged now as the ring on my third finger beautifully proved and never more so than when it was twinkling in the moonlight or the glow of the television that was lighting up the room. It was a simple design, because neither one of us was fancy, but the twisted and studded band was pretty much the perfect choice. Not that I would have turned down anything the man had proffered, since the message had been the main thing.

He wanted to marry me.

Me.

Leaving my finger between his teeth I pushed up on him and then had to bit my lip at the intensity of his blue eyes, which were a mixture of tease filled and sleepy arousal that made me feel warm inside,

"Bad boy, drop."

Dean let my nail tip go in an instant which then freed up his too tempting mouth for a smile, but one of his ludicrously proud little smug ones that made me surge in towards him and crash our mouths together hard. So hard in fact that his head flew backwards and banged back against the soft cushions of the couch, unable to move as I cupped at his cheekbones and then kissed him like I possibly thought that one of us might die or else like I was in one of those crazy action movies and was sharing rescue breaths having been thrown into a tank.

"Fuck – ,"

Dean grunted the word out clumsily around our frantic tangling of tongues but then recovered his faculties enough to flip us over so that he was suddenly above me and newly in control.

He grinned when we parted,

"Princess, I'll be honest here, if this is how watchin' weddin' movies gets you, then I'm all fuckin' for you lookin' up a whole bunch more, or maybe recordin' 'em to watch later when you're feelin' it. I mean, it's not exactly porn but whatever works for you, y' know?"

I rolled my eyes,

"It isn't the – ,"

"Ssssh," Dean leaned in closer and then kissed me again longingly, "You keep thinkin' those bad thoughts baby. Need me to talk dirty? Like, I don't know the right terms here. How 'bout buttonholes? Bridesmaids? Color schemes? Does that kinda shit get my girl all hot?"

"Nope."

He raised a brow at me,

"Nothin' for bridesmaids? Because I gotta tell you Princess, that one gets me hot."

In response to him I tried my best to look unhappy but it turned out to be essentially impossible to pull off since I honestly hadn't been truly unhappy in the ten months that had passed since I had climbed into his car and then practically forced him to ferry me to Louisiana on my hellbent mission to meet my long lost dad. It was safe to say the results of that had been patchy but it had thrown a blue eyed lunatic into my life and given me a home and a ring and a career no less.

It was totally a swings and roundabouts sort of a thing.

Behind us on the walls the early hours of the morning painted weird shapes across the room and then twisted them like ghouls in the flickering light of the movie but pressed beneath Dean I felt totally safe and expressed that thought by prodding his nose tip with a cutesy noise to match the gesture.

"Boop."

"What the hell was that?"

I grinned,

"It's the noise that the internet community has decided pets make when they bump you with their heads, it's pretty adorable, look, I'll show you, I've got a whole bunch of them saved on my phone."

"Princess – ,"

I turned pretty rapidly beneath the press of his body to grope the coffee table for my compendium of memes, mentally planning which one was the best to show him and then rapidly settling on the one of the tiny pig and not even remotely because I was building up to ask him if maybe we could look into having a mini pig ourselves.

"You're going to love this."

"Lauren – ," Dean shut me down quickly by pressing his lips in hot across my neck and then subtlety hooking the hand that was reaching outwards before bringing it back and pressing it down against my chest.

"Mmmm."

"We are not gettin' another fuckin' animal you hear me?"

I blinked at him,

"But I never even – ,"

"Didn't have to Princess, you're not exactly freakin' lowkey when you want stuff or is it some coincidence that you've been cuttin' up my pancakes into the shape of fuckin' pigs for the last two weeks?"

Damn.

In the moment I also instantly regretted having asked him if we could rent either Babe or else Charlotte's Web to watch sometime and potentially also for having started a conversation about whether or not he thought our dog needed a friend, but perhaps a very small one and maybe of another species so that he didn't get upset and think we were trying to turf him out.

I sighed,

"Am I not even a little bit lowkey?"

"Not even slightly, but you are fuckin' cute, so I dunno if that takes the edge off the whole thing or whatever – ,"

I lifted my head keenly for another kiss,

"Uh huh."

Dean snorted at me but then leaned himself in closer and was angling to give me the smooch of my life when suddenly there was the sound of tapping feet on the hardwood and the appearance of a pair of soulful looking brown eyes that peered across the comfy couch cushions towards us,

"Boom-Boom."

He responded by trying to lick my face and probably would even have easily reached me had Dean not hauled me up out of the way, whereupon our pooch clambered up onto the sofa in a flagrant breach of the no furniture rule but which slipped by unreprimanded because he looked too cute doing it, not to mention hugely comfy curled up on the couch. Dean too settled himself back into the cushions and I leaned up against him,

"So this is the kind of weddin' you want Princess?"

"What?"

In response to my baffled little grunt of confusion, he gestured loosely towards the blinking screen, where the happy star-crossed couple were evidently getting married and grinning like the biggest pair of fake idiots I had ever seen. In terms of the wedding the producers of the movie had gone for a fully traditional big white type thing, with pretty pink carnations lining the aisle and a flower girl and a white gown and the whole nine yards feel.

But was that what I wanted?

I blinked.

His question threw me because I had never been someone who had planned my big day as a girl and beyond having helped my best friend pick her own gown out, my experience of weddings was limited at best. Way back when I had been seeing my ex-boyfriend I had occasionally thought about how the day might be, but it had always been more in terms of who might be invited or who among those people had dietary needs. I had certainly never tried to work out my first dance song, or how to get the blue, borrowed, old and new thing done. But I guessed that even in those half moments of thoughtfulness I had naturally pictured things fluffy and white.

I shrugged in return and then hummed a little,

"Um, I guess so."

"Ha, I fuckin' knew you'd say that."

"Why?"

"Because – ," Dean grunted before moving himself slightly so that the back of my head bounced up off his abs, "Fits your whole cherry pie, girl next door thing to have a real nice weddin' with speeches an' shit an' I mean, that's what I wanna be able to give you but – ,"

Dean tapered off and huffed a sigh out.

"But?"

Leaning back against him I could feel his body stiffen like he was frustrated about something and it frightened me a bit because what if he was suddenly regretting having asked me or thinking about the potential cost and pitfalls of the whole thing?

Oh god, oh god.

Panic overtook me and I was about to scramble upright and beg him not to change his mind when he placed a loving kiss on the top of my head again and then snorted roughly,

"My family ain't the nice weddin' kind."

I blinked for a second.

Huh?

Oh.

His family.

It was a subject we tended not to touch on too much since I knew that his childhood had been pretty badly troubled and wasn't a time he liked to think about a lot and also that his links to his living blood relations were ever so slightly fractious to say the least. In fact in our whole ten months of being together I had never even been to his hometown once and I had never been introduced or so much as talked to his mother, since the few times she phoned he had always left the room and then come back all tense and angry in a way that broke my heart. Dean deserved so much more and particularly from the people who were supposed to love him totally and so to that end I found and then grabbed hold of his hand, pressing it in between my palms and then stroking it,

"We can swap if you like and you can have mine?"

He snorted at me,

"Jesus,"

But at least he was grinning since in the scheme of crappy families we were pretty evenly matched, because while he had a mother who had struggled with dependency I had the unending joy of Hunter and Steph who had variously welcomed me into the family, then held me captive in the hopes that I would give my boyfriend up.

It hadn't worked.

Besides, Dean wasn't my boyfriend he was my fiancé and why in the hell could I not remember that? Possibly because we hadn't told anyone apart from Roman and my best massively excited best friend and so therefore the whole thing was still kind of a secret.

Dean kissed my head again,

"We should just fuckin' run off an' do it on a beach in the middle of nowhere."

"Is that your perfect wedding?"

He shrugged,

"Don't have one."

"Roman would be upset at having to skip the best man speech."

I was only sort of partly kidding on that point but at the same time saying it practically stabbed a knife through me since the point only emphasized what both of us had lost and the fact that not four short weeks earlier there totally would have been two best men had the person we thought we had known so very faithfully not turned his back in the most brutal and public way.

Seth Rollins.

Ugh.

His name physically pained me, like some post traumatic stress from having been hit in the head and the symptoms of which had only recently left me having wiped me out completely for fully almost two weeks. Instinctively my hand moved up to paw through my hairline to where the egg shaped welt had sat pretty for a while but had slowly been absorbed and reverted back to normal, even though the thing still twinged a little from time to time.

"It won't be the same."

Dean kissed me,

"I know baby."

Evidently he had been thinking along the same lines and it succeeded in drawing a stunted silence between us as we blinked pretty idly towards the television screen. Back with the movie the blushing bride and her mother were sharing a tearful moment that ended in a hug and for the second time in easily as many stupid minutes, I felt a lump rise up in my throat.

Ouch.

Because that would be the other person notably missing when Dean and I finally managed to tie the knot. My own beloved mother would be achingly absent and suddenly in the darkness that seemed both unfair and so wrong.

"Dean – ,"

I twisted myself into his shirt front and then gripped up the fabric as the tears began to fall and he paused for a second, clearly not sure what was happening before closing his arms around me,

"Whoa, hey now, what's wrong?"

"My – my mom won't – won't be there,"

He blew out a breath,

"I know baby an' it fuckin' sucks."

"Neither of us is going to have our mom at our wedding."

In the moment it seemed like a pretty big thing, because who in the hell tried to start their married life off without the blessings of the people who had brought them into the world and yet how the hell could we if the people in question were either gone or estranged?

It felt like we were cursed.

Boomer moved in closer and then poked his tongue out to lick the pinky finger of my nearest free hand and I tickled him lovingly under the muzzle in return for it, since I figured that one of us should have probably been at peace.

Dean grunted mildly,

"Well that's probably somethin' we should talk about."

He sounded so hesitant that I actually blinked and then looked up from the patch on his shirt that I had managed to make snotty and also pretty wet with my sudden tear storm.

"What is?"

"My mom."

I swiped my cheeks off,

"What about her?"

Dean grumbled a little and then reached a hand down, brushing the remains of my wet skin with his thumb pad the way he always did when I was having a blub and which he had managed to pick up on pretty fast in our romance given the number of crazy things that had variously gone down, from full blown kidnapping and hostage situations to assaults and a million situations in between. His thumbs had been there to comfort every one of them.

Did it mean I was weird if I loved my boyfriend's thumbs?

Fiancé, he was totally my fiancé –

Idiot.

"I was thinkin' that you should maybe meet her y' know?"

It was entirely possible that I responded with a huh noise since his sentence was the very last thing I had expected to hear and so was therefore so totally out of the left field that for a second I figured I had obviously misheard and so replied with a baffled little snort of incredulity which bubbles out loud in the silence,

"You think what now?"

"I'm serious Princess, I mean, not that I've ever really done it before because most of the girls I've been with or whatever were more like casual things y' know? But I figure if the two of us are gonna be official an' sign papers an' that shit then you should probably – ,"

He tailed off and then waved his hand in lieu of a finish because for him it was obviously a pretty big deal and so therefore the fact that he was even suggesting doing it fired me with excitement and purpose and a lot of love since evidently I would be the first girlfriend ever to meet his mother.

I bit my lip,

"Are – are you sure?"

"'Bout you meetin' her I am but what I haven't freakin' figured is how it's gonna go her meetin' you."

"In case I say something wrong?"

I blinked at him openly because I honestly thought that had to be it but instead Dean pulled back and gaped for second, then blew out a snort so utterly disbelieving that it pushed a few loose strands of hair up off my face,

"You fuckin' kiddin' me with that shit Princess?"

"Um, no?"

"You're perfect baby, I'm not fuckin' worried about you, I'm worried about her sayin' somethin' to upset you or being all wasted or maybe even worse."

I blinked a little.

Yikes.

"Does she get like that often?"

I was trying hard to sound like I wasn't vaguely horrified because the last thing I wanted was for him to back out or come to the conclusion that I couldn't possibly handle the potential levels of drunkenness his mother might show. My question came out far too nonchalant however because Dean raised a brow at me,

"You want me to lie?"

"No."

"Because I'm thinkin' maybe I should, or like hire an actress so that she doesn't put you off."

"Put me off what?"

Earlier in the evening I had made myself a mint tea which I had then pretty swiftly forgotten all about but was in the process of trying to gulp through as he answered, but then turned out to be fairly horribly timed.

"Put you off wantin' to marry me or somethin'."

I promptly began to choke on the tea, to the point where I genuinely couldn't breathe properly until Dean sat straighter and forced me up too as I spluttered while his broad hands patted me helpfully.

"How – ," I wheezed as cold mint stung my windpipe, "How could you think that?"

I was crying again, but only because inhaling herbal infusions straight into the lungs was not a great thing and was actually probably as close to water boarding as I was likely to or frankly wanted to come.

Dean gazed back at me,

"Princess, you haven't met her."

"Doesn't matter," I replied in newly indignant tones, "Nothing she could do would change how I feel about you and I don't care what she says, or if she upsets me or if she's drunk because you are the best thing that's happened to me ever and that means I can cope with anything, in fact bring it on."

In order to prove my point I put my curled fists up like I was ready to step up into the ring and my fiancé laughed but then gently teased them open before steering them harmlessly back into my lap,

"Alright Rocky, maybe simmer down huh?"

"I mean it."

"I know," Dean leaned in and kissed my head again and I fell against his chest and inhaled his scent deeply,

"Dean?"

"What's up Princess?"

"Can we get a pig?"

"No."

So there we have it then, the first chapter back for these two and the good news (I hope) is that this story is going to be longer than the other ones have been (excluding the first because that was LONG) so settle in folks, this one is going to be crazy!