When Timmy woke up the next morning, he reached for Russell; he wasn't there. Timmy sat up in bed groggily, rubbing eyes, regaining composure. He felt happy. Everything was okay with the world this morning.

Yesterday, at the end of the interview, he'd been asked a question that he had been markedly unsure of: did he really want to be married to Russell? In his heart, he still knew he wasn't sure of the answer, but this morning he was less unsure than he had been yesterday. He couldn't pin down what was happening. A little over two months ago, he had walked out of Russell Dunbar's office, feeling great pride in his decision to move forward with his life apart from him. But even then he had felt a pang of separation anxiety; he had stolen items from his former boss's office, he had clung to bits and pieces of him. Now here he was moving forward in the opposite way, moving towards Russell rather than away from him. He wanted to be with him. He was getting used to the familiar sensation of waking up in Russell's bed after having slept next to him, and there was a certain security in this. And yet there was still always an uncertainty nagging at him, urging him to question every ounce of happiness he dared allow himself to feel in this situation.

"Morning."

Russell returned to the bedroom with two cups of coffee.

"Think I made it right," he said as he handed Timmy a cup.

Timmy took a sip and smiled with a nod. "Yes, perfect, thank you, sir." He grimaced. "Russell. I really must get over that."

Russell laughed softly. "It's okay. Hey, Tim, uh...I've been thinking."

"That's rather dangerous territory, don't you think?"

"Yeah, yeah. Listen...you haven't slept in your apartment in what, three weeks?"

"Probably that long, yes. I know what you're going to suggest, Russell. I've been thinking about it too, and I-"

"Give me a chance. Listen, after you fell asleep last night I went back out-"

"When was this?"

"You were zonked, you didn't notice. Anyway, I went down to that little pawn shop a few blocks down...not exactly top of the line, but it's the only thing open at that time of night, so um. Well, I grabbed a couple of things..." Russell was tapping the side of his coffee cup nervously.

"What? What is it?"

Russell reached over to his nightstand, opening up the drawer and securing two small objects in the palm of his hand. He held his fist closed tightly. "You're gonna think this is really stupid, it probably is, I probably shouldn't have done this. Yeah, no, I was...I was a little bit drunk, we'd been messing around and I was feeling kind of good, it's dumb."

Timmy smiled, nudging Russell in the side. "No, please. Show me, I want to see." He grabbed Russell's fist with his free hand, and his fingers relaxed, opening slowly to reveal two rings. Timmy's smile dropped. "Oh."

Russell felt panic rising in his chest, unable to read Timmy's expression. "I told you, it's stupid. Yeah, I'm sorry, you don't have to take it. It's just with what that lady said at the interview, and then I just-"

"No, it isn't stupid, on the contrary, I...I'm touched."

Russell's heart began to slow back to a normal pace.

"But you know what this means. Symbolically, a ring generally indicates a certain level of exclusivity and this has still been sort of a touchy subject for us..."

Russell nodded in recognition of this fact as Timmy continued.

"We swore that if anything has happened outside of this apartment, we wouldn't discuss it...and Russell, the rings would sort of...well..."

"Yeah, I know all that, but...well, I don't know, I guess I just..."

"I haven't."

Russell heaved a breath. "You mean, uh-"

"I haven't been with anybody else, not since that first week, no. I don't know why exactly, I suppose it's just the reality of the situation. Not that I haven't wanted to, mind you. It's alright, I don't expect the same of you. Women are a staple of your reality, it would be like asking the fox to stay out of the chicken coop."

"Yeah, well, I won't lie...at first it was tough. I thought about it, a million times I thought about it...I made dates on the fly, went out a few times. After awhile I couldn't. Every time I got close something weird happened and I uh...thought about you." Their eyes met sharply. "Try explaining that to a chick who's ready to go. 'Sorry, I can't get it up, I don't wanna cheat on my husband.'"

Timmy couldn't bring himself to formulate a response. Finally Russell couldn't stand the silence.

"So hey, just wear the damn ring, okay?"

"Yes, alright."

Timmy grabbed the smaller of the two rings and placed it on his finger. "It fits."

"Luck."

Timmy grabbed the second of the rings and, grabbing Russell's hand, slipped it onto his finger.

Russell examined his finger with a curious expression. "It's like we just got married for real," he mused.

"We are married for real."

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, well..." Timmy took a beat, sipped his coffee slowly. Then, with a lace of smarm he uttered: "Would you like to seal this union with a kiss?" He shook his head. "I can't believe I just said that, that's the most ridiculous thing I could have possibly-"

Russell wasted no time in taking a kiss, and the men smiled at one another. Cornball, yes, but there is was. Russell continued with his initial thought, his voice growing strangely nervous.

"So, yeah...you, uh, haven't really been back to your place in a long time and I was thinking, I guess this is sort of a proposal of a different kind..."

"Yes?"

"Move in with me. I mean, suck it up and bring your stuff here and just admit you've basically moved in anyway. I like it when you're around, Tim, and when you're not, I'm not liking that so much. So...maybe we should just think about taking the plunge already."

Timmy sipped his coffee, leaning back softly in bed. "Well..." He peered over at Russell, finding his face priceless; gentle and pleading in his simple way, like a child nervously asking for something he wanted in a store window. Timmy tried to keep a poker face, but found his smile creeping back on, and he nodded. "Yes. Alright, I've been thinking about this and I told myself that if the interview went well I'd make a decision. I called my landlord yesterday-"

Russell wrapped his arms around Timmy.

"Hot coffee!" Timmy swiftly navigated his arms. "You're insane. Is this the part where I say I love you for the hundredth time?"

"Grah, I love you, my little caramel creampuff!"

"We'll have to work on the pet names, Russell."

Russell came into the office flying high. There was a stack of paperwork on his desk - he didn't care. The next in a line of disgruntled assistants had left his resignation letter stapled to the door - he didn't care. He and Timmy were happy today, for once in their time together everything seemed to be going their way and nothing was going to shake that for him.

When Adam came by a couple of hours later, knocking on his window, Russell left his desk, waving him inside. Adam yanked on the resignation letter, still stapled to the front of Russell's door.

"Ah, yeah, that. Guess it's back to the old drawing board. Or I don't know, maybe I don't need an assistant, anyway. I can handle stuff around here on my own. Already got through most of the backlog today, not even sure what else I have to do. Any meetings today? You have some work for me? Rgh, I need something to do!"

"Hey, hey, hey, slow down, take a breath! What, are you jacked up on too much coffee or something?"

Russell straightened his tie and shook himself loose. He looked ready to snap like a jumping bean. "I just feel good, y'know? Don't you ever just have one of those days where you feel good?"

Adam grinned. "Hey yeah, I heard the interview went well, so everything's okay with Timmy?"

"Ah, yeah, why would anything be wrong with Timmy?"

"Well, the whole decapition thing."

"Well, my head's still on, isn't it?" he asked a bit too jovially.

Adam examined Russell for a good while, trying to pin down his excitement. "Did you get lucky?"

Russell ceased his shaking, and sneered in Adam's general direction.

"Nah, this isn't you getting lucky, I've seen that a lot, and this isn't that. I mean, for most people yeah, they get a little giddy after sex, but I think you got immune to that after awhile. Yeah no, this is something else. Why are you acting so weird?"

"Pft. I'm not acting that weird, am I?"

"Dude, you finished a desk full of work and you asked me for more."

Russell was coming to. He walked to his desk in shock, rummaging through the paperwork. "Wait, did I...? Oh my god, I've wasted the whole day!" He ran to his computer. "Porn, I need porn. Sweet, cleansing porn..."

Adam smiled. "I know what this is."

"What?"

"Come on, you know." His voice went sharp. "You're high on love!"

"Oh, come on, gay."

"Yeah, gay love!"

Russell glared Adam down.

"Come on, Russell, admit it. The interview went pretty good, you guys made up, huh? Am I right? I nailed it, didn't I?" Russell's silence was enough confirmation. Adam squeeked like a little girl. "You know, I knew you guys would be okay, I knew it."

"Yeah, well...listen, it's still weird talking about all of this."

"Don't let it be weird, man, if it wasn't Timmy, if it was a woman, would it be weird?"

"Frankly...yeah, it would be a little weird. I don't sit around gabbing about how it's going at home with the missus...or the mister, whatever. I brag about sexual exploits, I'm the fantasy, I'm not the lame reality. Dude, do I strike you as a marriage type? This is the second time I've been in this rodeo and I still don't know."

"Yeah, I hear you. But you're married now, and I don't think this is anything like Liz, this is different. I mean, you weren't drunk in that hospital."

"I...was a little drunk, yeah."

"Liz drunk?"

Russell scoffed. "Hell no, not Liz drunk."

"Not the same thing, then. You joined the club, man, embrace it."

Russell sighed. He walked to Adam with a shrug and shot out his hand, exposing the new ring on his finger.

"Oh my god, you put a ring on it?"

"Stupid."

"It's not stupid!" Adam's smile looked about ready to jump off his face, his voice raising in pitch with every word. "God, this is so exciting!"

"You really are the chick in the relationship. You know that, don't you?"

"Hey, now...no, I'm not."

"Ask Jen, she'll tell you."

"Yeah, well, maybe I could if your flash cards hadn't gotten me in such hot water last night."

"Yeah, I heard about that."

"When?"

"Jeff called last night," Russell grumbled. "Talk about almost being a total cock blocker. Hit that one out of the ballpark though, o-ho-ho, yeah I did." He paused; he winced. The men stared at one another silently for a few moments before Russell chose to change the topic. "So, why'd you come in here...?"

"Oh, yeah..." Adam pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. "Somebody left a message for you down at the front desk, guy sent it up with me."

"Why'd he send it up with you?"

"Dog knows we're tight, broseph!"

"Don't...don't talk like that." Russell took the paper and read aloud in confusion. "Emily stopped by, didn't leave message." He flipped the paper over, looking for more. "What, that's it?"

"That's pretty cryptic, do you know an Emily?"

"I don't think so...I'll ask Timmy, he's the one who keeps logs of the ladies I've ransacked."

"Why would a random girl you've had sex with stop by the office and leave a message saying she wasn't leaving a message?"

Russell shook his head. "Maybe it's a practical joke."

"Pretty lame practical joke. I gotta get back to work, man, let me know if you figure it out."

"Yeah...will do, 'broseph'."

After work, Russell did indeed have Timmy bemoaningly look into the name Emily. Russell called several girls answering to the name, only to be called a "sleaze," "perv," and "that horny midget from the subway that grabbed my tit," before being violently hung up on by each possibility. The note remained a mystery.

Two weeks had passed since the interview and the symbolic gesture of the rings, and on the surface, things seemed to be transitioning nicely. Timmy was in the slow process of moving into Russell's apartment. Their styles clashed awkwardly but it was a reflection, then, of the awkward clash that was their relationship.

It came one day that Jen was helping Timmy move in the last of his things. Russell and Adam were both at work, and she had nothing better to do that day (being a freelancer and all - stupid Adam), so she had offered. She sat down a box and noticed Timmy staring at a wall of photographs; family photos. He seemed despondent and she walked to him, speaking softly.

"Timmy, is everything okay?"

"Do you want the honest answer?"

"Versus what?"

He looked at her with a sigh. "Versus the answer I keep giving Russell."

She put an arm around his shoulders. "Come on, is it really that bad?"

"I haven't spoken to my parents in nearly two months. I tried for awhile, but lying to them...that was the hardest part, I couldn't keep that up. They'll probably disown me. And it's not just that..."

"Well, you can talk to me. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Timmy creaked out an incoherent sound of aprehension. "No, I don't think so."

"Oh, come on, we're friends, friends can talk to one another."

Timmy studied Jen's face. She radiated warmth and friendliness. He found himself speaking without much thought. "What if I'm making the biggest mistake of my life?"

"Oh. Well...well, why do you think that?"

"Look at what I'm doing, I'm moving all of my possessions into this piece of modern dreck, I'm likely sacrificing my relationship with the majority of my family, I've been out of work for months, and for what, Jen, what is all of this for?"

"For Russell."

"Yes, for Russell." His voice was harsh. "Is Russell worth all of this?"

"Wow...Timmy, I can't answer that question for you. You love him, don't you?"

Timmy looked at his pictures on the wall; a portrait of his family to one side, a picture of him and Russell to the other. What a trite, pathetic representation of his present dillema. What had she just asked him?

"Yes. Yes, I love him. It's just that I hate him." Timmy shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I think we've all been there. When you first get in a relationship, I mean really serious like this, it changes things. It's just changing things for you a lot more than it does for some people. I'm sorry about your parents. Maybe it won't be as bad as you think?"

"I'm not sure that's a risk I'm willing to take."

"I know this isn't the same thing at all, but if it helps even a little, Adam's parents were actually angry that we got married. They're hippies, he grew up on a commune. His mom wanted us to just keep living together, she thinks it's more spiritual. She's mad that I made Adam sign his soul over to the government."

Timmy laughed lightly. "And your parents?"

"They don't really even know Adam all that well, the big wedding is going to be maybe the third time we've all hung out together. Ugh, both of our parents together, that's gonna be a nightmare. Our parents are polar opposites."

"Why bother having a wedding? I thought you were satisfied with how things turned out. Wedding plans have never really gone in your favor previously."

"My parents are kind of insisting. They didn't care up until they found out we actually went through with it and then my mom laid on the guilt trip...how her friends need to see me in the dress, and what kind of crap was I pulling...so I don't know, we're giving it another shot. You guys are gonna be groomsmen."

"Since when?"

"Since Adam forgot to ask you a month ago."

"Ah."

The front door opened and Russell walked in with a whistle and called out with his standard hint of sarcasm, "Honey, I'm home!"

Jen sniggered, patting Timmy on the shoulder before retrieving her arm. "We're over here."

Russell walked over with a slight air of annoyance. He considered embracing Timmy somehow, greeting him with a hug from behind, a kiss, but somehow being next to Jen still made this difficult for him. He looked her over smugly. "Aaand Jen's here."

"Nice to see you too," she replied. "You're welcome for spending all morning helping your husband move in."

He surveyed the situation. "Looks good." His face said otherwise.

Timmy sighed. "No, I'm afraid it doesn't."

"Okay, yeah, it looks like India bombed my apartment with cheap crap."

Jen took a step in the opposite direction, away from the incoming storm.

Timmy popped his lips in frustration, but kept his composure. "Might we perhaps refrain from insulting both my taste and my heritage in one go, do you think that might be in the realm of possibilities?"

"Dude, I was kidding, are you...are you okay, what the hell's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong, everything is just fine, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of unpacking to do. It's only 12:30, usually you're just now getting to work, why on earth are you home?"

"I came back for lunch, I kind of wanted...to see you, wow, monumental mistake. Yeah, I'll go." Russell looked to Jen, who shrugged with a shake of her head. He headed for the door.

Timmy huffed, turned tail, and followed him. "Russell, wait."

Russell spoke softly, confidentially, so as to not blow up in front of Jen. "Seriously, what's your glitch?"

"I'm sorry." Timmy placed a hand to Russell's arm. "You're right, I'm glitching."

"Well. I came home to bring you something, I uh...I got you a housewarming thing." Russell reached into his pocket, pulling out a small wooden figure which Timmy took hold of and examined.

Timmy smiled warmly; the object seemed to magically melt the remaining tension and anger he had been holding in so tightly, and he relaxed with a soft laugh.

"It's an elephant. Because...elephants, India, and everything."

"Yes, I can see that. Thank you, Russell."

Timmy flipped the figure over, finding a neatly etched "T+R" on the elephant's underbelly. "Oh..."

"So you like it?"

"Yes. Yes, I love it." He hugged Russell tightly. "And I love you."

Jen stood in the corner, slack jawed, trying not to gush. Over something Russell was doing. This didn't quite compute for her.

Russell was readying himself to leave when he hesitated, glanced briefly to Jen, then sighed shortly and kissed Timmy; when he pulled away, Timmy leaned into Russell's ear.

"You know, she's seen us do this before."

"Yeah, well, that's my glitch."

Timmy squeezed Russell's hand as he headed out the door. For a time after Russell had left, Timmy stood there in silent contemplation, fingers brushing over the wooden figure in his palm as if it were a great treasure, a key to some deeply guarded mystery. Perhaps it was.

Jen approached Timmy, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I'm gonna confess something to you, something I thought I would never say in a million years. I mean, a billion, trillion years."

"What's that?"

"You guys are cute together. I mean, that was stinking cute."

Timmy smirked. "Thank you for your help today, Jennifer."

"No problem."

"So, where will you be off to now?"

"Oh, as soon Adam's off work we're going to look at wedding cake."

Adam had been staring at a row of cardboard cakes for the past several minutes. Jen's voice had faded into the background as she chatted with the baker. He'd tuned out somewhere between "lemon buttercream" and "fondant ornamentation".

"I just wanted pie," he mumbled under his breath.

Jen shoved a fork into Adam's mouth. "How does that one taste?"

He spoke through a mouthful. "It tastes good. It's cake, they all taste good, cake tastes good."

"I need a little more input than that, Adam! We need to make this decision together." She turned to the baker as she led Adam away. "Excuse us, please." When they were a safe distance, she spoke pleadingly. "Why can't you be a little more into this?"

"I don't know, Jen, this all just feels a little silly...I mean, we're already married, and...well, I'm a little burnt out on wedding planning. We've been through this a million times, now, I've tasted cake before, like, a million times and we've never actually gotten to the point of having cake at a wedding, and as much as I like free cake samples, there's gotta be a bottom line. We're jinxed, honey, how do we know this time is gonna be any different?"

"I think the difference is that we're married now, Adam. The universe didn't want us to have a wedding before we were married, but now that we are married, we're free to do whatever we want."

Adam thought. "Is that how this whole thing works for us?"

Jen shrugged. "That's how I've had to make it work in my head, I don't know. All I know is my mom won't shut up until we have a wedding."

"Yeah, well, my mom won't be happy no matter what we do, so how do we win?"

"We win by choosing a cake and having this damn wedding once and for all. Everybody comes, gets drunk, dances a little, goes home and we never have to answer 'when are you gonna have a real wedding' ever again. Plus, hey, wedding gifts!"

"I don't know, Jen."

Jen smacked her lips. "Well, we could always just go home. Play some more Couples Trivial Pursuit. Maybe the next card will ask which one of us gets to sleep on the sofa again tonight."

"Okay. Chocolate. Let's get a chocolate cake."

Jen hit him on the shoulder. "There you go! Chocolate it is. Now, we could go with german chocolate, devil's food, red velvet, fudge cake..."

"Oh, god..." She continued listing different varieties of chocolate cake. She just kept talking. How many different kinds of chocolate cake could there possibly be? How many kinds of chocolate cake did the world need? "Seriously, I just wanted pie..."

As evening approached, Timmy logged onto Skype and reached out to his sister, Simran.

She greeted him with a warm smile. "You finally decide to Skype, what took you so long?"

"I'm sorry, you know I would never avoid you like this. I guess I've been in hiding..."

"You've been honeymooning."

"Oh, please, Simran, don't put it that way, this is bizarre enough already..."

"Russell Skyped me, but not you."

Timmy groaned. "Oh, good lord, he didn't."

Simran laughed cheerfully. "He did, but don't panic so much. It was sometime a week or two ago, he was worried about you. He's a real character."

"Yes, that's putting it mildly."

"But he's endearing. I must say, I like having him as my brother-in-law."

"That...still sounds so odd."

"Well, that's what he is. So, you've moved in?"

Timmy looked at his surroundings. "Yes. I feel very displaced, I don't quite know what to do with myself. I know I've been living here, but something about it being official is making me question my sanity all over again. Have you talked to the folks?"

"They're wondering why you haven't called, I can't keep making excuses. You need to talk to them."

"I can't tell them about Russell."

"You don't have to. As far as they know you still work for him and you still harbor what they deem an irrational hatred for him, they don't know anything else."

"But I can't keep lying to them. Eventually I'm going to slip up, and then what will happen? I fear I'm going to have to make some very difficult decisions soon..."

"Please, Timmy, don't let mother and father's beliefs dictate your life...I know how important Russell is to you. Why do you try so hard to deny it? You always have. You know it's time to stop. Marrying somebody and moving in with them generally puts an end to that sort of nonsense..." Timmy averted his gaze away from Simran sheepishly; this was his common response when being lectured by his sister, particularly when he knew she was right. She smiled knowingly. "My brother always has been a stubborn one. Especially when it comes to matters of the heart."

There came a knock on the door. Timmy and Simran said their goodbyes quickly and Timmy jumped to attention, opening the door to a young woman.

She was 20-something, sandy blonde and petite. She looked to Timmy and shrunk slightly.

"I'm sorry, I think I have the wrong apartment."

"Who were you looking for?"

The woman fumbled in her pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. "Uhm, I, uh...do you you know if there's a...a Russell Dunbar in this building?"

"Oh, this is the right apartment."

Her face coiled in confusion. "You...you can't possibly be-"

"Oh! No, he's my husb-uhm, my roommate. I live with him."

She appeared dejected and nervous, and Timmy extended a friendly smile. "Is everything alright?" She seemed reluctant to speak. Timmy's first thought, shamefully, was that perhaps Russell hadn't been quite so forthcoming about his extra-marital affairs. "Is he in some sort of trouble? Did he perhaps stand you up?" She looked towards her feet without a word. "Uhm...one night stand? Did he...are you in trouble?"

Quietly she managed, "My mother."

"Ex-excuse me?"

"He got my mother in trouble."

"Wait...he...wh-what?"

She looked back to Timmy. "My name is Emily."

Timmy sighed out. "Oh! Oh, so you're the elusive Emily." He shook his head. "But I still don't quite understand. Who are you, precisely? What do you mean, he got your mother in trouble?"

The woman closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and spoke evenly, as if she had rehearsed the line a million times: "My name is Emily Swanson, my mother's name is Jessica, and...I think Russell Dunbar is my father."