Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to get this chapter posted :( School has been kicking my buttox! Anyway, thanks so much for all the lovely reviews! Hope you enjoy this chapter. Also, I accidentally uploaded the incorrect Chapter 12 to this story, but this is the correct one, so sorry about the mix up!

Disclaimer: The Dead Poets are not mine, and although technically the name 'Mallory' doesn't belong to me either, the way she acts in this story does ;D


Leave it to Charlie to "help" our situation even more. Because, not even one minute after my father gave us permission to marry each other, Charlie opened his big gob and dropped a bomb on all of us.

"Actually," he began, dragging out the 'A' sound for as long as physically possible. "We're already married." My jaw dropped to the floor, along with both sets of parent's jaws. Charlie grinned, casually slinging his arm across my shoulders.

"What are you doing?" I hissed under my breath.

Charlie chuckled. "Honey," he cooed in my direction, "I know we didn't agree to tell them out and out like this, but I felt honesty was the best policy here." He smiled.

"Oh," Charlie's mother squeaked.

"Do not call me 'honey'," I growled, utterly beyond belief. What on earth was Charlie doing? Our parents were going to expect proof. Certificates of some kind. They were going to go on a priest interviewing spree of some kind.

"You two," my mother began, looking suspiciously between us, "are already wed?"

Charlie grinned. "Yeah. So, if you'll excuse us for a second, I'd like to speak with my wife."

"Who says I want to speak with you?" I spat, then blushed at my outburst. Our mothers were gawking at the way I had spoken back to my 'husband', Charlie's dad was trying to make a laugh look like a sneeze, and my father was staring at me in disapproval. Stupid parents and their expectations.

Charlie smirked, then raised an eyebrow at our little crowd. "May we?" he asked cordially before escorting me back upstairs. He slammed the door shut after shoving me through the threshold.

Stumbling to a halt it took all of my restraint not to scream at the top of my lungs. So, instead, I spun on my heel and slapped Charles Dalton right across the face. His eyes grew to the shape of saucers in surprise. He had most likely never been smacked by a girl before, and it wasn't as if I went around slapping boys willy-nilly either. I hadn't even registered the thought to hit Charlie before my body impulsively reacted. I stared at my splayed fingers in disbelief.

Covering my mouth with both hands in shock I gasped, "Oh my God I am so sorry!"

"Oh great," Charlie finally quipped, "I married an abusive woman."

I rolled my eyes. "Luckily, we aren't actually married Charlie. Oh, wait, then why the hell did you tell our parents we were?" I took a daring step closer to him, sticking my pointer finger in his face and waving it around hysterically.

Taking a step back he waved away my hand and grimaced. "You're language is offensive," he remarked about my hell reference, then continued with, "Because at least now they aren't going to be gunning to get us circled." I raised an eyebrow suspiciously at the young man before me. What exactly was he getting at? Charlie raised an eyebrow right back at me and smirked. "Well you had to have known they'd get us married as soon as they could, right? You're having our child, Ariel; they weren't going to let that happen without us tying the knot."

I placed a hand on my hip and cocked my head in consternation. "We don't have any legitimate proof of a marriage Charlie, unless you've got a marriage certificate lying around somewhere," I pointed out to the bumbling fool in front of me.

Charlie scoffed. "So we run to the church and get one. It can't be that hard."

I gave him a withering glance and took a deep breath. "No. Not hard at all. You just, you know, have to get married first!" I yelled.

"You need to calm down," Charlie said, pointing at me.

I glared at him. "I don't need to calm down; I need to think of a way to get out of this, because I can guarantee they aren't going to be happy when they find out we not only lied about being married, but that we aren't actually even married."

"So let's do it," he grinned.

I laughed out loud. "Now is not the time for jokes Charlie."

"Maybe I'm not joking."

There was a long pause where I stared, mouth slack and hanging open, right into Charlie's eyes. He stared right back, a determined glint flashing across his face.

"I said it's not the time for jokes," I repeated.

Charlie was walking closer to me, sending my heart to pound in out-of-control beats. "Once again," he replied in a low voice, "maybe I'm not."

I gulped as he stood directly before me, his head tilted to the side and one corner of his mouth quirked upward in his signature smirk. I ripped my gaze away from those lips of his and tried to burn a hole in the floor with my eyes instead, which didn't work. Instead I stood there numbly while I felt Charlie reach out and pull me slowly towards him. "I thought you weren't ready for marriage," I whispered, unable to get my voice to rise to a higher volume.

Bringing his other hand gently under my chin and causing our eyes to lock once more, he huskily said, "Not now. But on my own time, I will marry you." I blinked, not knowing how to take this information. He set his other hand on my abdomen and glanced down in what I would almost call a fond way. "You're having my son-daughter-thing, and I don't want to miss out on that." Oh, right, it was all for our child. I completely understood. I mean, why would he want to marry me for any other reason? I wasn't anything special, even if he insisted I was, he was all talk. "And I can't imagine living with any one women for the rest of my life but you," he chuckled. This caught me off guard.

"Huh?" I stuttered stupidly, searching his expression for some sort of hint as to the authenticity of his last statement.

"I don't want a push over for a wife," Charlie smirked, "Although I wouldn't mind if you went and made me a sandwich…"

I opened my mouth to heatedly reply to his typical man remark, but Charlie had an idea on how to shut me up. He pressed his lips against mine before I could even spit out a word in retaliation to his joke. I took a deep breath, unable to believe Charlie Dalton was kissing me, I had, after all, just slapped him. My heart wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him forever, but my brain was ticking away, questioning the whole situation. My brain won this battle.

I pulled back my face, which was actually a much more difficult task than I had originally planned, considering how persistent Charlie was. When I finally managed to free my lips I gasped out, "What are you doing?"

Charlie raised his adorable eyebrow and ran a hand through his hair. I think he knew I liked it when he did that. I think he knew it made me want to do naughty things. I think he knew it distracted me. With a smirk, because I was probably staring with my tongue hanging out of my mouth, Charlie said, "I'm kissing my fake wife."

"But why?" I insisted. I didn't want him dragging me along just to make me feel better about our whole situation.

Charlie shrugged, glancing away for just one second. "I don't like to leave things unfinished. And since the last time I tried kissing you we got interrupted…" He gave me a cheeky grin and bent his head down to close the gap between our lips. God he was good! Maybe, my heart whispered to my brain, I can just go with it this time and not fight. And so, for the first time in my life while I was sober, my brain surrendered to my heart's desire. Man, I'm such a sap.

Not that I didn't enjoy it…

*

After returning from Thanksgiving break Terry once again cornered me. "I hear from Richard that you and Charlie are engaged." Her steely gaze was unrelenting, and I could feel my stomach tying itself into knots. Looks like I had gone back to being the wimpy Cootie I always was.

"Who did you hear that from?" I idiotically asked, considering she had started out her sentence with that information.

Terry shifted her gaze slightly, most likely thinking back to the words she had just spoken to me. "…Richard," she repeated.

"Oh, right, yes," I laughed airily, cheeks burning red.

Terry raised her eyebrows in question. "Well?" she encouraged an answer from me. "Is it true?"

I took a deep breath, about to spill the entire story, when Terry got bumped from behind.

"Sorry!" the girl that had tripped into her shouted, as if both of us were deaf and unable to hear her apology. "Hey, you're Ariel right?" she questioned, smiling brightly, a kind light in her eyes.

Terry stared at the odd girl in disbelief. I think she was shocked that someone had acknowledged me instead of her. "Um, yes," I hesitantly replied.

"Ah! No way!" the girl grabbed my hand and enthusiastically pumped it up and down. "You are my hero! I'm Mallory by the way. People call me Mal. Well it's more my friends call me Mal than anyone else. You can call me Mal if you want though! I can't believe you're marrying Charlie Dalton. I am so jealous of you! I'd like to get my hands on one of those Welton boys myself, if you know what I mean. Rawr!" She growled provocatively at the end of her long introduction and once I was able to pry my hands from her circulation endangering grasp, I slowly brought my gaze back to Terry to see her reaction.

She was standing, both hands on hips, smoke nearly coming out of her ears, face as red as a tomato. "Yes," I stated, still looking at Terry with determination. "We've actually been married quite some time." Mallory squealed with excitement at the news, grabbing my hands and jumping up and down. I'm pretty sure she wanted me to join in, but I stood my ground, my glare at Terry never wavering, when out from my mouth popped, "And we're expecting a child." This time Mallory didn't make a sound and her hopping stopped abruptly; Terry's hands dropped to her sides, eyes so wide they looked like they were trying to escape from her skull.

Wait. Did I just say that?


Author's Note: Oh dear, the beans have been spilled! Thanks for reading and please review :)