A/N: And here is the epilogue-y last chapter. This is over, done, complete…it only took way too long. Thanks for sticking with me (if you did) or getting all the way here as a new reader (nice to meet you). Enjoy! R&R! Thanks! –Mac

Disclaimer: I don't own LWD.

Chapter Ten

This Is What It All Comes Down To

"Uncle Edwin, wake up!" a voice yells in my ear.

I jerk awake at the sound, and try to turn over in my bed away from the source of it. Somehow, my momentum topples me right over the side of the bed and I land on the floor in a mass of blankets. I roll over onto my back to stare at the ceiling and contemplate how this has happened. The glow in the dark, cut-out stars pasted to the ceiling are the first indication that something is not quite right. Then two faces peek over the edge of the bed to look down at me curiously and then I remember: Derek and Casey's house, Quincy's room and Quincy's itty bitty miniature bed (no grown man should be sleeping on a twin bed). A snicker sounds from across the room and I sit up enough to see Derek leaning in the doorway (that bastard).

"You think this is funny?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Yes, yes I do," Derek nods, "besides, you've been sleeping here for a week, it's about time Quincy got his bed back and I just want my house to be an Edwin-free zone."

"Aw, am I that much of a nuisance?" I ask.

"I'll give you that this past year since Lizzie and you got together, you've become more tolerable, but the past few weeks your cynicism has reached a new level," Derek says, "I'll give you a pass for the last couple days and chalk it up to separation anxiety. Which brings me to my original point—breakfast is ready and the sooner you get out of bed, the sooner I can get you out of the house and solve all of our problems."

"Okay, I'm up, I'm up," I put my hands up for a second before I drop them to push myself to my feet.

My niece and nephew scramble off the bed and dart out of the room before me. I hear them thunder all the way down the stairs before I can even make it to the door. Derek claps me on the back as I pass by him and we start to head downstairs together.

"I'm sorry if I've been a pain," I apologize (see how grown up and mature I am, actually apologizing for my once normal behavior to Derek no less), "but you know how it is. Being away from Lizzie this week has been hell and planning a wedding can do that to a guy."

"You see, that's why I didn't do any of the planning for my wedding," Derek says as we reach the bottom of the stairs, "I said to Casey, 'I'm a man and I refuse to worry myself with frilly dalliances like doilies and flower arrangements' and she had to let me off the hook."

"I heard that," Casey meets us at the entryway to the kitchen (supersonic ears that one has). She offers Derek a quick hug and kiss as he smiles sheepishly. Then she turns to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders to guide me to the table. "There's also the fact that I wouldn't let him help in the first place, because he lacks what we call, taste."

"Whatever," Derek shrugs. He takes his seat between Mikay and Quincy. "I did veto the whole 'can't see the bride before the wedding' thing that you and Liz have going on, and I never heard Casey complain about—"

Casey shoots him a warning look, gesturing at their kids (I would bet you a million dollars that if she hadn't cut him off, he would have rambled on into something X-rated. He might not curse anymore, but when it comes to TMIs of the bedroom, Derek is known to slip. I've inadvertently been informed of more than I ever wanted to know about his and Casey's sex life more than a few times in just the last forty-eight hours). I want to laugh, but it's probably best if I just continue the conversation like nothing happened.

"Lizzie just wants to go the traditional route with the wedding, you know, since there's next to nothing traditional about our relationship," I say as I take the plate of food Casey hands to me.

"You can say that again," Derek snorts, "but really, I wish you had waved that one tradition so I wouldn't have had to put up with your negativity for a week."

"Good to know my best man can't stand me," I say (figured I would regret that choice sooner or later).

"Hey, I love you little brother," Derek shook his head, "I did you right for your bachelor party even though you wouldn't let me hire the str—dancers, and we had fun together that night, but when left to your own devices, you're a handful."

Quincy tugs on Casey's sleeve and she leans over so he can softly speak into her ear, "Why doesn't Uncle Edwin like dancers?"

"Because he's a mature adult, and some mature adults know how to have a good time at a party without dancers," Casey answers, glaring pointedly at Derek. Then Case puts on a smile and reaches over to pat my hand, "I think it's nice that you decided to go the traditional route—it will make finally seeing her walk down the aisle all the more special."

I smile back obligatorily, "Yeah."

"Well next time he needs a place to crash, he'll have to hit up Dad and Nora," Derek says through a mouthful of breakfast (it's good to know some things never change).

"Daddy, you shouldn't talk with your mouth full. It's not polite," Mikay says. "That's what Mom always says."

I snicker at the expression of disbelief on Derek's face after being scolded by his daughter. It evolves into all out laughter at the smug look of pride on Casey's face.

"Yeah, daddy, mind your manners," I say.

Derek points a finger at me, "You, be quiet, or I'm going to start spilling the details of what happed at the bachelor party after you had a few too many."

I put my hands up in surrender, "Alright, alright, truce."

We all eat in silence for a couple minutes (all the better, because who knows what would come up if we kept talking, perhaps how nervous I am to be married by the end of the day).

Then with a confused look on his face, Quincy pipes up again, "'A few too many' what?"

O-o-O

A few hours later, I am standing at the front of the church waiting for the ceremony to start. I feel like I can't breathe (is it possible for a clip on tie to suffocate you? I'm just kidding. I'm not wearing a clip on tie at my wedding. I'm a man, and I wear a real tie…that I had to have Casey tie for me, but in all honesty, I'm still suffocating). My palms are sweating and I try to discreetly wipe them dry on my pants. I knew I was nervous but I never thought my heart would be racing this recklessly (I'm gonna pass out. I'm gonna pass out cold. I need some air, I need some open space, something to make me not feel so dam claustrophobic). And even though I don't really mean it, the thought crosses my mind to run out of the church (there is nothing I want more than to marry Lizzie and spend the rest of my life with her, but there is still a part of me that is afraid and that fear is kind of overwhelming me at the moment). Just when I'm sure I'm going to cause a scene by fainting at the altar, the music starts to play and the ceremony begins.

I'm still shaking as the procession begins (this is it). Little Quincy and Mikay are the first two down the aisle as the ring bearer and flower girl. Then come the bridesmaids and groomsmen (thankfully, Julie has been excluded from the day's proceedings. After the 'incident' preceding Lizzie and I getting together, Lizzie reevaluated her friendship with the she-devil and I had no complaints on the decision. And why am I thinking about Julie right now? Stop it, Edwin. Right now, stop it. Think about Lizzie. Yes, Lizzie, the woman you're about to marry. Oh Jesus, now I can't breathe again). Derek and Casey come next in the honored positions of Best Man and Maid of Honor. I feel a little better with my brother by my side (what do you know? He's good for something) and Casey gives me an encouraging smile.

Then the music shifts to the bridal march and when I turn my head, there's Lizzie. Now, I'm having trouble breathing for an entirely different reason. All my fear melts away when I see how beautiful she looks as she walks toward me. This is everything I've ever wanted. This moment is perfect (nothing, absolutely nothing can ruin it, not even anything stupid I'm prone to doing. Not today, not this moment).

Lizzie is smiling as she is passed over to me. She mouths 'I love you' at me and I whisper it back before we turn to the minister. I'm in a haze of contentment as the ceremony continues. It's a blur as I repeat the vows the man tells me to say and slip the ring onto Lizzie's finger. The one phrase that resounds loud and clear is 'I now pronounce you man and wife. You man now kiss the bride.' I pull Lizzie close and kiss her as deeply as I feel is appropriate for inside a church (it still takes my breath away). And finally, we are introduced to all of our guests as Mr. and Mrs. Venturi (I'm never going to get tired of the sound of that). Everything I've-We've been through has led us to this moment and I smile unabashedly (So unlike me, but who cares. I'm fucking happy. So sue me) as I lead my Lizzie, my wife, back up the aisle to the sound of our family and friends cheering.

O-o-O

The reception is a stereotypical celebration. There's our first dance as husband and wife, we cut the cake (I refrain from smearing cake in and frosting across Lizzie's face, that is, until she decides to smash a whole slice into my face), the DJ spins some "Love Shack" and "Wind Beneath My Wings" (that latter one is a favorite, it's so relevant), the garter gets tossed (it's caught by some random cousin or something), the bouquet goes next (it's caught by Marti and my protective brother instincts kick in. I stop myself before I request a re-throw, but I don't miss the way Derek shadows her date for the rest of the night), and there are a bunch of very heartfelt, wonderful speeches (which I only vaguely pay attention to, while they bring Lizzie to tears from her rapt attention). My favorite moment of the night is when I finally get Lizzie alone and am able to carry her across the threshold to start our real wedding night.

I cradle Lizzie in my arms and carry her all the way to our bed. I lay her down and after shrugging out of my tuxedo jacket, I crawl onto the bed with her. Immediately, she pulls me into a searing kiss (now this is what I've really been waiting for). I pull back after a moment, but remain in her arms.

"Are you happy, Lizzie Venturi?" I ask (I love the way that sounds coming from my own lips).

"I am," Lizzie answers, smiling up at me. "Lizzie Venturi," she tests it out herself, "Edwin Venturi's wife. Somehow I knew when we all moved into your house that you Venturi men would take over everything us MacDonald women had in some shape or form. I didn't know that would include our name."

"You could always hyphenate," I joke, attempting to tickle her side through the layers of lace that make up her dress.

"No," Lizzie shakes her head, "I want to share everything with you and that includes your name."

Lizzie runs her fingers down my cheek and leans into kiss me again (well that's answer enough for me). The time for talking is done for the night and honestly what more could there be to say?

Except maybe this: "I love you, Lizzie."

And this: "I love you too, Edwin."

Call it fate or call it coincidence, but after years of missed opportunities, I finally got to the place I've always wanted to be. It doesn't matter to me if it was destined or just the way things went. All that matters is that I finally got my happily ever after with Lizzie.

It's about fucking time.

The end (or is it really just the beginning? Eh, just kidding. That's all folks, now get out of here).