Arguing- Epilogue

A.N. This is the end, just to wrap it up on a little bit of a high note. Thanks again to anyone who took the time to review.

For something that was meant to be a one off, it turned out completely different! I don't know if that's a good thing or not- I'll let you be the judge of that!

Ever wondered why, when you want to say something, the words just won't come out? You stand there, the words in your head, staring, but there's a long way between your brain and your mouth, and for some reason the words just won't bridge that gap. Or is it just me?

There is only one cause of my current speechlessness. She's standing two feet away, and I swear I have been struck dumb. The registrar is quietly clearing his throat, probably trying to get our attention, but it's not working that well. She's caught my attention, and my breath, and nothing is currently getting through. I never understood how a smile could be radiant before. I mean, a smile doesn't exactly have a light source. But today, Sara just shines. Her smile, her eyes: Pure radiance.

'Excuse me, Mr Brown?' The registrar finally says in a stage whisper. There are stifled giggles somewhere behind us, as I finally manage to stop staring at my bride and pay attention to actually making her my wife.

I have been waiting for this moment for a long time. I know it's just a piece of paper, a ring on a finger. But for me it's the day I get to show the world how much I love this woman. We've had out ups and downs, (we still have our ups and downs!) but finally, it's all come together.

We're going to be husband and wife. She's going to be Mrs Brown. And yes, that was a long and fruitful argument about changing names. Apparently in this day and age girls don't need to change their names like they once did. Or they could double barrel it. Or why couldn't I change my name if I was so desperate to have the same one? I won that argument. And yes, I know it's not about winning. But this one was. Firstly, Warrick Brown-Sidle, or Warrick Sidle Brown? I don't think so. Firstly, Mr and Mrs Warrick Brown sounds great. And Sara Brown isn't bad. And plus, she gets rid of the whole SAS acronym she's currently got going with her initials. Don't tell her I told you this, but her middle name is Abigail. She can now be SAB.

Add another A and you've got a classy car.

Anyway, that wasn't the only argument this wedding has caused. Apparently getting married by Elvis has never, and will never be, cool. And the drive thru is also not a good idea. If we were going to go through with this damn wedding then we were going to do it properly. Pineapple on sticks and bridesmaids throwing up included.

I was joking about the drive in before you wonder.

All the work, and the fuss, and the little arguments have amounted to this, though, and I wouldn't have had it any other way. Not least because, Sara is absolutely gorgeous, and the dress she has on is making me wonder what underwear she is wearing. Unless that dress is staying up by pure magic. Thank God for the honeymoon sweet at the Empire tonight. I feel a lesson in physics coming on. Or a show and tell anyway.

We've learnt a lot of things in the past few months. That plasterboard needs at least a week to dry or otherwise it sags and falls down. That paint colour is nothing, if you can't agree on the type of couch you're getting. That being together doesn't mean that everything has to be hunky-dory, and you can admit to being scared. That living together, and seeing Sara getting woken up by an alarm is truly scary. That honesty above all else will keep sex, I mean the relationship, fresh. Insulting the forty-niners when they are down two touchdowns will only mean your side of the bed is cold that night.

That as a couple we fit together surprisingly well. But as a couple we can no longer work on the same case together without tantrums ensuing.

And I know getting married isn't going to stop this learning. Another ring, a far bigger commitment together, if anything is going to steepen the climb again. And I could get really soppy about this, but in truth, I can't think much right now. We have a lifetime to work out all the little paths along the way. Who cares, as long as I have Sara, I swear, nothing could stop me.

The I dos are said, the first dance playing, Lindsey, Sara's bridesmaid for the day has just drunk a whole glass of champagne and is rather giggly.

The day couldn't have been more perfect.

Sara couldn't be more perfect.

And now, I get to see what's underneath the dress.

And go someway into convincing Sara that having children has its high points. Not least cause you get to practice at making them first.