A/N: A happy interlude featuring Mark and Maddy getting hitched...


Chapter Twenty Nine

Mr and Mrs Reynolds

The weather forecast for the entire week has been excellent, and - to everyone's relief, particularly the Meteo-team's - accurate. With such an excited build-up, Carol, the head Meteorologist, has been feeling the pressure extensively, and has put up rather more radiosondes than usual. With the hot weather starting to abate, the risk of unexpected thunderstorms blowing up has receded, and the current run of high pressure is very welcome for more reasons than just the harvest.

With the need to keep numbers manageable, the only member of the team of people who are working to make the event spectacular who will be attending the actual ceremony as a guest is Yseult, partly because she is now part of the Shannons' circle of friends, and partly because - thanks to Elisabeth's determined promptings of a mildly refusenik Jim and several rather-more-convivial-than-expected dinners - that circle has widened slightly to include Malcolm, so even if she had not been specifically invited with him, she would have attended as his 'and guest'.

"Do you want me to help at all?" Malcolm asks as they share a plate of toast for breakfast, "I should warn you that my abilities extend to chemistry and no further - but I'm happy to come and get in everyone's way while I pretend to be efficient and in charge."

She smiles at him; he's not had the nightmare for several nights now, and the uninterrupted sleep is doing him the world of good. The weight he lost has been restored, and his colour has settled from that mottled combination of sunburn and a rather wan paleness caused by his exhaustion, stress and lack of food. Maddy has reported to her that his periods of distraction in the labs are growing fewer as well. It seems that he is really starting to recover his shattered equilibrium. Her own recovery is more or less complete - it must be: she freaked him out first thing this morning by emerging from the ensuite after her shower with nothing on. It's been weeks since she lost that sense of unselfconsciousness - and this morning was the first time she felt safe to embrace it again.

Not that she'll be attending the wedding so attired - or not. To her surprise, Ninette has presented her with a rather lovely cotton dress that's been rendered surprisingly fine shade of pale green using natural vegetable dyes, for which one of the cobblers has made a matching pair of shoes. It seems that they made rather more fabric than she and Geoff were letting on - and, as Pete put it, they wanted her to know how important she is to them. That, however, will be worn later - the work in the orchard requires the more usual cotton jersey top and cargo pants.

"Much as I would love to have you around while I'm working, I think you've probably got better things to do. We should be done by half past ten, so I'll be back then for breather, and a shower. Carol mentioned it would be quite warm today, so I suspect I'll need one." She looks at him, archly, "If you're really good, I might even let you join me."

"I like the sound of that offer." He gathers the crockery as she fetches out her boots, "I'll see you later."

She is not surprised to find Jim hovering as Ninette organises the troops, "Aren't you in charge, Max?"

"Not today. Ninette's the one with the eye for design and decoration - I'm just here to attach things to other things." She frowns, humorously, "Has Elisabeth thrown you out for the morning?"

He looks rather sheepish, "It was getting a bit girly in there. Josh has taken refuge in the bar - but we'll be getting changed at Deborah Tate's place; I'm banned from seeing the dress."

"I bet Elisabeth thinks you'll cry."

"She's probably right." He admits, suddenly sounding rather despondent.

"If it's any consolation, Jim," Yseult smiles, "My dad did the exact same thing when I married Niall. I think it's the same for all fathers when their little girls suddenly turn into brides - and it seems to come from nowhere. Come on - I need to get the supports for the arbour ready, or Judith won't be happy with me in the slightest. Do you want to give me a hand?"

"There's an arbour?"

"Did I mention that everyone's very excited that we're having a wedding?"

"I don't think you need to." Jim admits, looking around as swags drape across the open ground set out for the ceremony, while chairs are carefully decorated with artfully arranged foliage. Most of the apples have been harvested, but the leaves are still a rich green, and cast dappled shade across the space that dances in the breeze, "I had no idea that Maddy was so popular."

"It's a 'we all like the Shannons' thing, I think. That and this is the first wedding we've had, so everyone wanted to go a bit potty."

"Potty?"

"Sorry - one of Niall's favourite Britishisms. It means 'nuts' or 'crazy' - but in a fun way."

He smirks, "I think I'll keep that one for future use. It'll annoy Mira when we're on patrol."

"How are you two working out as a working partnership?" Yseult asks, intrigued.

"Let's just say it's something of an event, shall we?" Jim grins at her, "It's certainly never dull. I can't push her buttons the way I can with Malcolm. I don't think she's capable of being ruffled."

By the time the teams have finished, the clearing in the Orchard has the romantic air that Ninette was aiming for, and, she hopes, will charm Maddy when she arrives - not having seen it, or even the plans. As far as she's aware, it's just a few rows of chairs among the trees.

"What do you reckon she'll think?" Yseult asks Jim as they view the results.

"I think she'll be blown away." He admits, taking it in.

"Me too."

"D'you reckon they'll do something like this for your wedding?" he asks.

"Mine? We haven't even thought about that, Jim. I think we're too busy just rediscovering being a couple to worry about the stress of organising something."

"Okay - I think we're hovering on the edge of 'too much information' there."

"You did ask." She smiles at him sweetly.


"Where's Dad?" Maddy calls through from the main bedroom, where the wife of one of the Joiners is currently arranging her hair.

"As far away from here as possible." Elisabeth calls back, "He was getting rather too nervous. I sent him out to investigate the orchard."

Zoe sits in the room she would normally share with her big sister, solemnly reading the instructions she has insisted on being granted to make sure she plays her part to perfection. Much as she is looking forward to having a room of her own when Maddy leaves, she also doesn't really want her big sister to go. Going over the order of service is a handy way of not thinking about it.

Her hair has been arranged with some rather pretty fabric flowers, and her dress is a lovely shade of pale pink. Despite having several friends her own age, Maddy has opted not to cause friction amongst them by trying to have them all as bridesmaids. They'll be attending as guests, while Zoe does the honours solo.

Elisabeth pops her head around the door, "Maddy's nearly ready, Zoe. Do you want to see her dress?"

She looks despondent, and sets her plex aside. Guessing the problem, Elisabeth comes in and sits on the bed beside her, "She's not going far, Zoe - she'll just be a short walk away in another part of the colony."

"I'm going to miss her, Mom." She's just reaching an age where 'Mommy' is considered to be too babyish for her sensibilities.

"I know, sweetheart. We all are - just like we'll miss you one day when you get married. We all grow up, and we all find new families. It doesn't mean we lose our old ones - just that they grow bigger with new people in them. And it's not as though Mark's a nasty person - he dotes on you, doesn't he?"

She nods.

"Come on." Elisabeth stands and extends her hand to her youngest child, "Let's go and see Maddy's dress."

There are few patrons in the bar, as most are busy at work, or discussing the day's big event. Sal has offered to come in and mind the shop while he and Skye are at the wedding, and she's taking the opportunity to prepare the bar for the wedding breakfast, as she and a few of her fellow vendors are catering. Tonight's party will be outside in the marketplace.

"You coming?" Skye asks, as they're running a little short of time for getting changed. Mark, naturally, is at Dunham's place - though it's unlikely that he'll be overly partied out. It's not like they have the alcohol to get him into the sort of embarrassing situations that groomsmen are supposed to inflict upon the groom to be. The cider isn't ready yet, but Julia, the Colony's enthusiastic vintner, has provided a rather good plum wine that will be reserved for the toasts. When she gets it right, the results can be spectacular. Given that she'll try making wine out of practically anything, however, one can never guarantee the quality of the vintage.

Looking about the bar, which Sal is still in the process of prepping, he realises that he's just going to have to take it on trust, and follows Skye out.

Sitting at the dressing table, drying her hair, Yseult watches surreptitiously in the mirror as Malcolm changes his shirt. To her mind, he is always at his most attractive when he doesn't know she's watching him; something in the way that his expression relaxes, a sense of being at ease. She can see - to a limited degree - what he's really thinking. Much as she loved Niall, and their emotional closeness was something she treasured, he was always uncomfortable with the more tactile elements of her personality, and she had learned that not everyone appreciates it when they are touched. He'd never grown up with it, and it was easier to suppress her natural need to reach out, than to encourage him to accept it. There was always that slight tension; but then his parents had not had the easiest of marriages, maybe that's where it came from. It's only now that it is particularly apparent to her, thanks to its absence from her relationship with Malcolm. Niall would never have joined her in the shower; that's a given.

"What's on your mind?" Malcolm has noticed that she's not concentrating on her hair.

"Just reflecting on how utterly handsome you are." She smiles back.

He comes over to stand behind her, his hands on her shoulders, "Hmm. Flattery - are you angling for something?"

"Nothing that we've got enough time for," she laughs, "I haven't got time to get back in the shower, and neither have you."

"That's a good point. I might appreciate you in your underwear, but I don't think it'll go down well with the other guests. You finish getting ready - I'll see if there's anything decent to drink in the fridge - or would you prefer something hot?"

"Is that one of your bizarre English double entendres?" she asks, archly.

He sighs, theatrically, "I walked right into that one."

"You certainly did."


"God, this thing's choking me." Jim grumbles as Deborah helps him with the first tie he's worn in years, "Why the hell did we invent these things?"

"Just be grateful it's not a corset." Skye calls across, as Josh similarly struggles, "You think being strangled is an issue? Try being crushed."

The sound of a knock on the door sends her hurrying across, and she opens it to find Commander Taylor outside, "Elisabeth's sent me to escort the Father of the Bride back to his house." He says, with comical gravity, "I have a weapon handy if he's nervous."

He looks remarkably odd, being dressed in something akin to a suit rather than his more usual military style fatigues - but he's attending solely as a guest, so he has no wish to spoil things by looking like the soldier he is. He just wishes…no - don't think that…

Looking distinctly uncomfortable, Jim heads over to join him, "For the record," he complains, "If I choke to death in this thing, then I officially give you my place as Father of the Bride, and you can do the speech."

They stroll back to Jim's house in companionable silence. In the years that they've worked together since his unexpected arrival in the Colony, they've learned to appreciate each others' strengths - and respect each others' foibles. Taylor is no more a man for pointless conversation than Mira, and Jim has long learned that silence does not come laden with worrisome meaning.

Elisabeth is waiting for them, and Taylor hands him over with a smile before departing for the orchard to join the other guests. Guzman has arrived with one of the flat-bed rhinos, which has also received the attentions of Ninette, and seems to resemble a carnival float - albeit considerably more tasteful in decoration, "Did you think we were going to make Maddy walk to her own wedding?"

Jim stares at it, shaking his head rather dumbly, before Elisabeth takes his hand, "Come on. Come and see your daughter."


The gathering is not large, but those who are present are those whom the family values the most in the Colony. Everyone else will be welcome later, but now it's friends and soon-to-be-family only.

Shifting uncomfortably in the suit that he has been obliged to wear, Josh looks up as Elisabeth makes her way down the aisle to join him, "Did he cry?" he asks, surreptitiously. Smiling, a little damp-eyed herself, Elisabeth nods, then looks across to Taylor, invited to join them at the front of the assembled congregation.

Some traditions have been left behind in the future, but others have travelled into the past. The Chaplain, wearing his finest white tippet over a sober suit, stands ready to receive the couple, while nearby the Colony's registrar will complete the marriage certificate. Despite the resolutely scientific edge of the entire enterprise, some religious aspects still seem to be almost required at times. Until today, it had been resolutely for funerals - never for a wedding; most of the couples who live in Terra Nova are already married.

Sitting across from Josh and Elisabeth, Mark shuffles uncomfortably. Much as he can't wait to finally formalise his relationship with Maddy, as Commander Taylor decided from the start that long-term relationships should be formalised through some form of ceremony to protect both parties, he has fallen into the traditional Bridegroom stereotype of being nervous; though much of that has come from extensive teasing from his comrades, who have almost entirely convinced him that Dunham, his Best Man, has lost the rings. He tries not to notice his friend occasionally surreptitiously checking his pocket to make sure that they're there.

Music for the occasion is, yet again, being supplied by the folk band. While they do possess a piano, sponsored and dispatched at the insistence of someone who demanded that people should have access to music when they went through to the past, and people who can play it, getting it out to the orchard seemed such a monumental undertaking that Ninette demanded people who could carry their instruments in one hand.

Conversation is quiet, a low hum as people wait for Maddy to arrive. Being a bride, she is, of course, expected to be late; though she seems resolutely determined not to adhere to such traditions, as Guzman delivers them bang on time, and the Chaplain invites the assembled guests to stand. He doesn't invite them to crane over their shoulders to see her - they do that all by themselves.

Her expression a charming mixture of solemnity and excitement, Zoe leads the way, scattering petals as she goes, and does her best to ignore the 'isn't she adorable?' noises that are coming from the guests. She's getting a bit old for that sort of thing - but she lets it pass. They'll be far too busy gawping at her big sister to bother with cutesy 'ahhs' in a minute.

His expression probably the utter cliché of a 'Proud Father', Jim escorts Maddy into the clearing. Her expression as she sees the work that's been put into the space where she is to marry Mark merely sets off how beautiful she looks. With no access to tulle, or silk, or netting, Jacinta has been obliged to create something out of cotton, and has done a magnificent job. Her dress, white, with a simple neckline and capped sleeves falls in a soft, close fitting bodice to a full tea-length skirt whose pleats have been expertly sewn to flare it out from her hips like a bell. The entire garment is accented here and there with simple lace, courtesy of a hobbyist lacemaker which, while not exactly Honiton or Flanders, sets off the simple, rustic look to a tee. She wears a simple, homespun stole, courtesy of Ninette, in a pale powder blue - lent to her for the occasion, while a beautiful stylised silver butterfly owned by her late grandmother and brought through the portal by her mother, accents her hair. Old, new, borrowed, blue.

Dunham leans closer to Mark's ear as he stares at her, "Whatever you do. Don't faint."

Leaving Maddy beside her husband-to-be, Jim rejoins Elisabeth. While he had always expected this time would come - giving his daughter away in marriage, he had never thought it would be in a clean world, with fresh air and hope for the future. Their chances of getting here would have been less than little, but for a combination of his wife's talent, and the efforts of the man sitting two rows behind them. Much as he resented Malcolm for nearly causing him to be left behind when she came through - not to mention Zoe, he accepts now that there was no intentional malice in the act. Zoe was an illegal child, they kept her secret. How was he to know? He would almost certainly have known that Elisabeth was living as a single mother thanks to his prison sentence, and having lost his own father in such circumstances, perhaps Malcolm did genuinely believe that he, Jim, would not live to come through to the past thanks to the grim conditions at Golad. Not that it matters now - as he has, indirectly, rescued the entire family from a dying, polluted world to what feels, in comparison, like paradise.

The silence as the Chaplain asks if anyone knows of any reason why Mark and Maddy shouldn't be married is a relief, even though it's expected - and everyone laughs, including the Chaplain himself.

The ceremony proceeds without a hitch. No one faints, Dunham has not forgotten the rings, nor does he drop them. Rather than exchange vows, the couple have composed speeches to speak to one another which are simple and affecting in their honesty and lack of mawkishness given their ages, and the applause when the Chaplain proclaims them to be husband and wife is supplemented by whoops, whistles and cheers.

The folk band plays some lively tunes to keep everyone occupied while the newly married couple sign the Colony's register with their witnesses, and Elisabeth clutches Jim's hand tightly, "I can still remember the day she was born. Even though I never lost hope for our old world, I was so afraid that she wouldn't have a happy life. I never dreamed that it was worth hoping - that we could find that happy life."

"I don't care where we are." Jim advises her, softly, "As long as you, Josh, Maddy and Zoe are with me, I'm happy." He looks up at the trees that shade them, "Of course, being here helps a lot with that sentiment."

"I love you, Jim." She says, simply.

"I know. I love you too."


The happy couple having departed aboard Guzman's gaily decorated rhino, everyone else is obliged to stroll back to the compound on foot, though no one minds - after all, it's not a hardship to walk in a place where no one wears high heels anymore. As they leave, Yseult waves to Pete, who is waiting with a crew to go in and dismantle the decorations so that the wedding arbour can go back to being an orchard again.

As they walk, very close together with their arms about each others' waists, Malcolm notices that people keep casting glances in their direction.

"Why are they doing that?" Yseult asks him, quietly.

"Because they can't believe I'm letting you hold me like this. They think I'm too stuffy and uptight to accept it. Mind you, until I met you, they would probably've been right."

"Wow - and they haven't even seen us kissing."

"Well, some of them did before I went OTG - I imagine that rumour went around like wildfire."

"Stop the presses." She giggles, "Wallace kissed a woman."

"They'll get used to it." He advises, sagely, "I did."

Boylan's has been decorated with streamers and bunting - anything Sal could get her hands on. It clashes like hell, but somehow the riotous effect seems right. The solemnity is done - now the partying can start.

Tom himself is sitting near the entrance, eyeing the scene with his usual veneer of cynicism that doesn't hope to conceal the fact that he's as pleased as anyone else, "Hey, Wallace. You're not allowed in there. The place'll fall in."

Given the standing joke that Malcolm has never, ever, been inside the bar; he neither takes offence nor any notice, "First time for everything, Tom."

"That's Mister Boylan, Professor." He says, though he is grinning as he says it.

"He's with me." Yseult adds, with mock aggression.

"Fair enough. You get a hall pass." He says, pretending to magnanimously wave them in.

Maddy is already circulating, as Brides are obliged to do, moving amongst the tables as people collect drinks and sit down. As both the usual bartenders are guests, one of Sal's friends has taken over the rather unnerving task of reproducing their famous collections of vivid beverages. No one is expecting haute cuisine, but the aromas coming in from the grills are very enticing.

"I love your dress, Max." Elisabeth has come over, a glass of Julia's plum wine in her hand, "Did Ninette make the fabric?"

"She did - and she gave it to me. Something to do with my boundless popularity, apparently."

"Thank you so much for the fabric - please pass my gratitude on to Ninette; I've already seen Jacinta, they worked a miracle between them."

"I will. I'm sorry we didn't have enough time to create enough fabric to make a meringue."

Elisabeth laughs, "I don't think Maddy's a meringue type of girl. She loved that dress just the way it was."

The assembly dine upon a range of grilled vegetables, xiph, gallusaur and - to Jim's disgust - beancurd, all with a range of vividly flavoured - and coloured - sauces specially designed to look utterly obvious if dropped down one's front. With time to spare before Jim and Dunham have to give their dreaded speeches, the Shannon Patriarch makes his own round of the tables, eventually plumping down in a spare seat next to Malcolm while its occupant is chatting to someone else nearby.

"This is your fault, you know." He says, sagely.

"Mine? In what way?"

"I've spent a lot of time resenting you for trying to get back with Elisabeth. Taylor was pretty quick to point out what an ass I was being; but, if you hadn't done what you did, we wouldn't be here, would we?"

"Nice to know that my heinous plan did have some benefits then." He smirks, but then looks more serious, "It was never about trying to get back with Elisabeth. I suppose I had some stupid notion at the back of my mind that, if she needed someone, I'd be there; but, she'd moved on almost before she'd left for London and I figured that out pretty damn quickly. I suppose I wanted her to see her hopes fulfilled. We needed her skills - and I thought she was more or less going to be a single mother. My father died of COPD, and the conditions at Golad were hardly conducive to surviving it."

"Was that who you were talking to when you were in the encampment?"

"Pardon?" Malcolm looks at him, bemused.

"Yeah - you were talking to me, but I think you thought I was your father. You had heatstroke at the time - but…"

He shakes his head, "I'm sorry, I thought you were my father? I don't remember that at all - but it was all a bit of a mess by then, so I might well have been talking to you - but I don't have any memory of doing so."

Jim lets it drop; it's pretty obvious Malcolm isn't pretending he can't remember. He looks around to where Yseult is sitting, picking at the remains of her dessert with a fork in her right hand, her left nowhere to be seen. He leans closer to Malcolm, "Max's hand is on your leg again, isn't it?"

"Yep."

Returning to the 'top' table, so called largely because it's facing all the others, Taylor rises and taps a knife against his glass, "Don't worry. I'm not going to say anything. That's not my job today." He turns to Jim, "I give you the Father of the Bride."

He sits again to claps and cheers as Jim rises to his feet in his turn - ready to face the slowest, and most terrifying, ten minutes of his life.

When he returns to his seat to more applause, he realises he's gone blank, and can't remember a single thing he's just said, "I didn't say anything stupid, did I?" he asks Elisabeth, "Like start reading Miranda rights?"

"No, darling." She pats his hand, "You were just fine."

Dunham manages to pull out a speech that is not too embarrassing, sprinkled with amusing anecdotes, and - most importantly of all - not too long, leaving Mark and Maddy free to use Yseult's harvest festival knife to cut the first cake that's been baked from spelt flour. After a year of tinkering, Graham has finally managed to get it fine enough.

Jim rises to his feet again, "Okay everyone - Sal's going to start chopping the cake up so that everyone can have a piece - but it sounds like the band's ready outside, so feel free to get out there and dance."

As he sits, he gets another round of applause, causing him to hastily get up and pull a gratuitous bow.

"Don't overdo it, Shannon." Taylor growls humorously from nearby, "Wouldn't want to upstage the bride, now, would we?"


Taylor has, as always, retreated up to his balcony again to watch as the party continues after night has fallen. Those who couldn't attend the wedding itself have shown up in their droves, and it's almost like Harvest Festival, except for the lack of vegetables hanging from strings.

He looks down to see that Jim is making his way up the stairs, and makes room for him, "Hell of a year, Shannon; and it's not even over yet."

Jim nods, "At least our biggest problem is over. No more Sixers on our doorstep, and no Phoenix Group trying to get at us. We can finally get on with making this place work."

Taylor looks across the marketplace to where Yseult is, as always, very, very close to Malcolm, "Maybe this'll persuade Malcolm to propose."

"Who knows? I think it's still a novelty having a girlfriend." Jim quips, then he smiles, "You're not the only one. Maddy's planning on dropping a hint the size of a brachiosaur in a few minutes."

"How?" Taylor looks bemused, then thinks about it, a smile widening across his face, "Ah. That's a mean stunt to pull on the good Doctor. You love yanking Malcolm's chain, Shannon. You're an evil man."

"Yeah - but he makes it so easy."

Down in the marketplace, Mark nearby and waiting to escort his bride to their new home, Maddy turns to the assembled women, "Come on - I'm going to throw my bouquet! Who wants to be the next bride?"

She watches as a number of her friends step forth, and Malcolm jokingly pushes Yseult across to join them, she looks at him, and laughs, "What if I catch it?"

"I may just possibly run." He calls back to her, amused.

They gather behind her, almost jockeying for position, as Maddy turns around, and prepares to swing her arms back over her head, "Ready? One…two…three!"

The bouquet sails into the air, at which point everyone in the group stands aside, leaving the flowers to land squarely in Yseult's arms, accompanied by a resounding cheer. Despite her laughter, despite the jokes, she stares at the flowers, then turns to Malcolm, who watches her with a soft smile. I'll do it, Max. When I'm ready - I promise.

Her bouquet thrown, Maddy crosses to join her new husband, and they depart to cheers, applause and huge handfuls of thrown rice.

Her eyes joyful, Yseult carries the flowers over as she rejoins Malcolm, "Unsubtle, I think - but it's nice to know that, when the time comes, we'll have the Colony's permission."

"I wasn't aware that we needed it."

"True, but I'm glad we'll have it, all the same." She looks up at him, "I love you."

"I know you do. If I could find words that would adequately express the same sentiment in your direction, I'd use them. But I can't, so I'll have to just make do with saying I love you too."

"Did that come with a side order of saccharine?"

He doesn't answer, the party forgotten as they share a warm, lingering kiss.