Disclaimer: I do not own Cruella (2021) or the 101 Dalmatians franchise, this is purely a work of fanfiction.

Trigger Warning: Mild scene of assault at the start.


Apparently, becoming a wealthy heiress means Cruella now has to deal with idiot men attempting to win her hand and subsequent fortune for themselves. It is not something she anticipated when she hatched her plot to claim her birthright.

The boys at her school treated her like trash and once she became a thief the goal was to go unnoticed. As she had grown older she garnered more attention but did her best to keep her head down, wedged between Jasper and Horace, who glared daggers at anyone who so much as looked at her wrong.

There were, of course, the occasional catcallers to contend with and more than once Horace and Jasper had gotten into a brawl with someone asking what she charged for a quickie.

(She remembers cleaning split knuckles, pressing a cloth to the gash on Jasper's cheek, the look he'd given her, dark eyes like blackholes, pulling her in - he opens his mouth to speak - Horace interrupts, groaning at Estella to fetch more ice for his swollen eye.)

And there were the few rare cases where Estella distracted a mark by flirting. They all agreed she was rotten at it (and Horace complained Jasper was never as focused on those jobs).

So Cruella is wholly unprepared to have society's most prestigious bachelors hurling themselves upon her - someone who used to dumpster dive for dinner. It would be hilarious if it wasn't so irritating.

At first, she thinks nothing of it. After her big splash in the fashion world and literal dethroning of the Baroness there are plenty praising her style and genius, and rightly so. She has almost forgotten small, unremarkable Estella, lost in the magnificence which is Cruella. She is not surprised people are tripping over themselves to worship the ground she walks.

Then flattery shifts to flirtation and the gifts begin pouring in. John has run-out of places to store any more flowers and Horace won't stop whining about allergies though he is fine with the chocolates. Even Jasper glares at each new bouquet as if it has personally offended him. She may have to do a floral line just to be rid of them (not her usual style but she can make it work).

That alone wouldn't be so bad if she could hole-up in the mansion, but as a rising icon she needs to be seen in public, lest all her hard work be for naught. This means attending various events where she has to suffer through the advances of every entitled male in the vicinity. It's exhausting.

She tries using a buffer. Artie loves a good party and Horace won't turn down free food, but both have a bad habit of wandering off to be of any real use and Jasper refuses to come along, citing it is not "his scene". John is the most effective, with his broad shoulders and piercing glare, but as the help he is often overlooked and cannot intervene if she is assigned a dinner seat next to some fawning gold-digger.

Soon, her admirers grow bolder, oozing charm and such familiarity it makes her skin crawl - a touch to her shoulder, her wrist, her waist, kisses pressed to her hands, her cheeks - and no cutting remark or jab of her heel can deter them. The boys at her school thought her a rabid beast. These men laugh when she bares her teeth, treating her like a foul-tempered kitten in need of placating.

She longs to jam a cane into their eyes and thinks fondly of the Baroness's otherwise disastrous masquerade. But even she realises an assault charge would be bad for publicity (plus, Jasper will make his disappointed face).

Somehow she manages to endure it all, with a level of restraint she thinks would make her mother proud - that is until one evening at yet another tedious party. The theme is the 1920's but they seem to have skipped straight to the Great Depression. She has escaped to the garden terrace, seeking peace and solitude, which is, of course, where Charlie Croft, son of a politician or maybe a banker, and one of her more persistent admirers, corners her.

"Cru!" He calls out as if this is a tremendous stroke of good luck instead of him stalking her.

She grinds her teeth and turns with reluctance.

His face is so smug and slappable. "I was hoping I might catch you alone."

"And here I was hoping to avoid you entirely."

He chortles. "Always so prickly, Cru. A guy might get the wrong impression."

She wields her frosiest glare, hissing through her teeth, "What will it take to get through that thick skull of yours - I want to be left ALONE."

He sighs, shaking his head as if she were a child throwing a tantrum. "I know you don't mean that… a woman as beautiful as you should never be left to feel lonely."

She jerks as his fingers curl around her bare shoulder and debates pushing him off the terrace. It is no cliff but it will hurt.

"I am not lonely. I simply prefer company who matches me in intelligence… or at least my dog's."

Croft beams with too white teeth. "We're well-suited then."

She scoffs, trying to bat his arm away. "You - you can't even understand the word NO."

"So cold, Cru," he tuts. "You know what I think?"

"Do you think?"

"I think you just need a strong man to take you in his arms…" she squawks as he ensnares her waist, his other hand like iron around her arm as he hauls her to him, "...and kiss you senseless."

Before she can cry out his mouth is upon hers.

The world lurches violently as he dips her. Instinct has her clawing at his shoulders, trying to halt her descent and stabilise herself even as she struggles to break from his steel embrace.

(Neither Estella nor Cruella has much experience kissing. That might surprise some people given her age and beauty but when would she have had the time and with whom?

The most important people in her life are Jasper and Horace - the latter makes her want to retch, the former causes her stomach to go tight and her palms to sweat.

Such things seemed so insignificant compared with their daily troubles, the thought she might be missing out never entered her head. Now, she understands she was lucky to avoid it.)

Croft is all slobber and no skill, his mouth moist and smothering, his probing tongue practically rammed down her throat so she almost chokes, eyes prickling, and she can't breathe… she can't breathe

Blood pounds in her ears like the crash of waves against a cliff slide and she is meek, hapless Estella again.

The stone rail grazes her back, as Croft bends her almost in two, and she regains her balance, gripping the rail so hard she expects it to crumble.

With a roar, her fist swings out, cracking him across the face.

He releases her, stumbling backwards. "WHAT THE FU- !"

He doesn't finish as knuckles strike bone and blood explodes.

He howls, clutching his broken nose. "Bitch!"

Cruella looms over him, voice low and venomous. "Touch me again and I'll turn you into a coat."

Croft whimpers.

She leaves him cowering. Her feet lead her through a back route, avoiding the bulk of the partygoers. If anyone calls out to her she doesn't notice. Sound drifts in and out of her ears like a broken radio - snatches of laughter from the party, echoes of jazz music, the crunch of gravel under her feet, and in-between nothing but static.

John materialises before her, eyes alight with concern. His mouth moves but the words don't register. A muscle twitches in his jaw, shoulders squaring as his focus shifts to the house. His eyes momentarily harden before his gaze returns to her and he melts. Gently, he wraps her in his jacket and ushers her into the car. Cruella curls up in the backseat, unable to shake the chill.

It is a long drive back to Hell Hall yet it passes in a blur. The lights of London flicker and fade and, before she knows it, John is opening the car door.

Excited barking greets her upon entering the mansion, along with the scrabble of many paws upon the polished floor. She carries on walking, straight ahead, through the hall, to the stairs...

"BLOODY HELL!"

She stills. Horace gawps at her from a doorway.

"Did you murder someone?"

Several seconds pass as she processes the question. Following his gaze she glances down and sees her dress, once white, now splattered with blood. She looks back at Horace, unable to muster a response.

His brow furrows and when he speaks again his voice is gruffer than before. "Do I need to murder someone?"

There's a tug at the corner of her lips and her voice carves itself from her throat.

"I'll let you know."

She floats up the stairs in the direction of her room. There, she strips off her clothes and stumbles to the bathroom, watching the blood wash from knuckles and swirl down the drain.

She is frantically scrubbing the taste of Croft from her mouth when Buddy pads in, rubbing against her leg. The toothbrush clatters into the sink and she grips the basin's edge, heaving out a breath.

Buddy whimpers and she pulls herself together, enough to crouch down and scratch behind his ear. "Come on, Buddy."

He follows her to the bed, curling beside her when she collapses onto the sheets, face buried in his fur. The last few hours play on repeat in her head, the memory of Croft's touch like bruises on her skin, and she does something she has not allowed herself to do in a long time…

Cruella cries.

At some point she must drift off, not to sleep but into a state of scheming so deep it's like meditation. When she next cracks open her mascara-crusted eyes, sunlight is spilling into the room and her mind illuminates with the solution to her problems.

If these fortune-hunters won't stop, she must eliminate the prize they covert.

She has to get married.

-vVv-

There is only one person she can picture herself marrying.

She finds Jasper in what has been dubbed the Music Room, strumming his guitar. With no more grifts to plan, they finally have time to pursue their passions and for Jasper that is music. She tiptoes inside, placing a steaming mug on the desk beside him.

"Thank you…" his smile stalls and he does a double-take, brow knitting together as he realises it's her and not one of the staff. "...Ella?"

His surprise unsettles her. Has it really been so long since she brought him tea?

"I thought you might be thirsty."

"Thank you… that's… that's kind of you…"

They stare at each other, the irony not lost on either of them.

"So… so… how are you? Horace said you came home last night looking… looking rough."

She half scoffs, half laughs, perching on the grand piano opposite him. "Yes, I must have made quite the sight…"

She rubs her knuckles and his gaze follows the motion - indigo blotches have formed overnight. His face tightens and he fixes her with a probing look.

She resists the urge to hunch. Jasper has always seen too much and Estella had a bad habit of allowing herself to be weak around him. It was easier to let him coddle her than risk real pain.

Cruella knows pain. She doesn't need to be coddled. Except, once again, it seems her fate is in Jasper's hands.

"Hey…" his voice is soft and safe and she leans towards him, unconsciously. "You know we're here for you."

His mouth twists as if recalling too late all the trouble she wrought last time. Still, he doesn't take the words back.

"Actually…" she drags her finger along the rim of the piano, "there is something…"

He hums, shoulders braced, and meets her gaze with a determined glint.

"Marry me."

TWAAANNGGG!

The guitar jolts from Jasper's lap. He catches it at the last second, knuckles white around its neck, voice strangled.

"...wwhat?"

She straightens. "Will you, Jasper Badun, marry me?"

His expression shutters and he shifts the guitar to the side. "Are you asking me or ordering me?"

She restrains a wince at his leadened tone. "I'm asking, of course."

"Right." He rises from his seat and she has to crane her neck. "And why are you asking me?"

"Why does anyone ask anyone to get married?"

"Usually, because they're in love, but that's not what's happening here."

She stiffens at the blunt tone, nails biting into her palms.

"If your answer is no…"

"God sake, Cruella!"

He throws his hands up and she wobbles back a step. Jasper - gentle, soft-spoken Jasper - so rarely loses his temper but now he looks thunderous.

"You come home covered in blood! Now you're asking me to marry you!" The storm breaks and he looks at her like a puppy in the rain. "Just tell me what's going on! Please!"

She turns her gaze to the floor, lips pursed and silent.

Seconds trickle by.

Jasper waits.

Somewhere a dog is barking - it echoes through the vast mansion, full of ghosts, and Jasper, the only thing real.

She clicks her tongue and lifts her head. "If I'm married then all those idiotic fortune-hunters will have no choice but to leave me alone."

The crease smooths from his brow even as his expression turns pensive - a look she has seen him wear a million times before, piecing together a picture from the few scraps provided. His eyes flick to her knuckles then back to her face and the frown returns.

"Cruella…"

"Jasper," she snarks.

He sucks in a breath and exhales. "This can't be the only solution."

"It is the only way to make them stop."

"We're talking marriage here. That's a serious commitment, not another grift or some game."

"I know! I'm not making this decision lightly."

"Really? Because you have a tendency to hyper-fixate on schemes and then go completely overboard!"

"This isn't like that!"

"No? You faked your death and held a funeral! Why not fake a marriage too?"

Cruella scowls, stomach writhing. "I'm sick of charades. If I do this, I want it to be real."

"But it won't be real, Ella," he sounds strangely agonised. "Not if it's for the wrong reasons."

"We're already family, Jas. What difference would a ring make?"

He folds his arm. "So marry Horace."

"Horace?" She wrinkles her nose. "You're joking."

"Why not? He's family too."

"Yes, but he's Horace."

Just the thought of marrying Horace makes her gag.

"Fine, then ask Artie."

She laughs. "I don't think I'm his type."

"Then find someone else!" Jasper makes a sharp motion with his arms. "Anyone! Ask anyone else!"

"I don't want anyone! I want you!"

This close she sees his expression falter, one emotion cycling after the other, never more frustrated that she lacks his skill for reading others.

Her head spins with those last words and the revelation they tore from her, heels hitting the ground with a thud.

A movement in the corner of her eye and she catches sight of Jasper's hand as it jerks towards her - halts - shrinking back into a fist.

When she looks up his expression is closed, unreadable. Pain bursts in her chest, sharp and sudden and gone, her nerves on fire.

"I… Jasper…"

His eyes shut and he sighs - each second of silence a weight upon her - when he opens them again she sees the boy from the fountain before he transforms back into the man, aged and world-weary.

A knot of guilt coils in her stomach.

"Estella… Cruella… I need to think… I need… I need time… can you… can you give me time… please…?"

His eyes beseech her and how can she refuse when he pleads so prettily?

"Of course."

She slips from the room, fists clenched to hide the tremble, and heads for the terrace. She needs air.

-vVv-

Jasper proposed to her once before. They were in a restaurant, attempting to score some freebies, while Horace used the distraction to pocket whatever he could.

She recalls how Jasper went down on one knee, presenting the ring, stolen on a previous job. She hardly needed to fake her reaction, stomach swooping at the look in his eyes, full of something she couldn't name. Estella had been prepared for the act but not the speech which followed, Jasper preferring to improvise in the moment.

"We've been together for so long now, I can't imagine myself without you. Your smile keeps me going even in the worst of times. Your laugh makes me feel like the richest man alive. So long as you are by my side I know we can face anything. Please marry me and I promise to bring you tea every day for the rest of our lives."

There had been a breathless pause as the whole restaurant waited for her answer. Then she surged forward, crushing her lips to his.

Jasper startled, the kiss unplanned, but recovered quickly, ensuring it looked convincing as his hands went to her waist. Their audience cheered and applauded, enough of a distraction for Horace to pilfer their valuables, though Estella barely noticed, wrapped up in Jasper.

The kiss was so very him - gentle, warm, and unselfishly giving.

When she pulled back she whispered a simple "yes", breath hot upon his lips, and Jasper's eyes shone brighter than any diamond ring.

Later, back at the attic, Horace had crowed and popped the bottle of champagne gifted by the restaurant, toasting "the newlyweds".

"We're not married," Jasper pointed out. "We're not even engaged… not really."

He glanced at Estella and she smiled on cue.

"Well that kiss was plenty convincing," Horace smirked. "Sure there isn't something you want to tell me?"

Estella took a long sip of champagne.

"Shove off, Horace," Jasper snarled. "Don't be an arse."

"If I promise to behave, will you bring me tea for the rest of our lives?"

Jasper jumped to his feet and Horace retreated, laughing, the two play-fighting as brothers do.

Estella rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Buddy and Wink for some "civilised company".

She kept the ring, finding it a comfort to touch, and often lost herself in the iridescent beams it cast in the light. Jasper never remarked on it and a single warning look from him ensured Horace didn't either.

Several months later, Horace developed a hernia and they needed quick cash to pay for the back-alley surgery. Choosing Horace was easy but she still hesitated to part with the ring, missing its weight on her finger.

They didn't speak of it again or fake another engagement and life went on as if the whole thing never happened.

-vVv-

If Horace notices any tension at dinner he doesn't comment, which is more tact than he usually displays. When the meal is finished, Jasper catches her wrist, two fingers over her pulse.

"Can we talk?"

She nods and they go out to the terrace, the sun is low, streaks of rose and blood orange across the sky, illuminating lavender clouds. For the setting of her nightmares, it is beautiful.

Sprawled across the stone steps, Jasper turns to her, tense.

"I don't uh… I don't have an answer for you yet…" he says, hurriedly, "but I do… I do have some questions."

Cruella inclines her head, tracing the spot between the knuckles on her left fourth finger. "Go ahead."

Jasper wrings his hands, stealing glances. "If I… if I become your… uhh… husband… what would… what would you expect of me?"

"I imagine it wouldn't be so different to what we have now." She keeps her tone languid, ignoring the slight tremble as she examines her fingernails. "There would be the announcement and the paperwork and an exchange of rings. You'd have to make a couple of public appearances with me to sell it, but we needn't go overboard. We're already living together."

It is not romantic but then this isn't a romance.

"Right..." Jasper exhales and faces her fully. "If we did this… it would be a partnership - not you bossing me around, treating me like your minion - but a true partnership, we would be equals."

She swallows, a half-formed apology wilting on her tongue, realising it wouldn't be welcome.

Outwardly, she flicks up the corner of her lips. "Like old times."

"Yeah." His shoulders slacken, nervous energy evaporating off him. "Like old times."

And just like all the froff gushing from a bottle of champagne, with some of the tension now released, Cruella can't stop the words pouring out.

"I can't promise I won't be a pain. I'm sure I'll drive you completely insane sometimes but I'll try… I'll try not to make your life harder… I'll try to be a good partner."

"You're not so bad." Jasper's eyes glimmer with the last traces of daylight and he adds, in a teasing tone, "Would you be taking my name or…?"

"After all the trouble I went through to become Cruella de Vil? No, it won't do."

She waits for a reaction but his expression remains placid.

"As much as I adore Jasper Badun, you must admit Jasper de Vil is superior."

"Hmmm… it does make me sound like a rockstar, don't it?"

He grins, teeth flashing, and for the tiniest fraction of a second Cruella's heart stops.

"Horace won't like me abandoning the Badun name."

"He can be a de Vil too. Although, not even that could improve a name like Horace."

Jasper laughs and she is shaken to realise how long it has been since she heard it sound so genuine. Her hands open and shut.

"You'd allow him to be a de Vil?"

He peers at her, slyly, and she needs a moment to summon a response.

"Well… we are family, after all."

"Yeah…"

Cruella feels the weight of Jasper's smile as it drops from his face, a stone sinking in her chest.

"Actually… speaking of family…" he trails off, searching her face for something she doesn't know what. "...I want children someday."

The world stops.

The world restarts, Cruella lagging a few crucial seconds behind.

"I thought… I… I should tell you before… ," Jasper is saying, "before we do anything… you know… before we do anything we can't take back…"

Wind whistles through her ears yet she feels nothing more than a gentle breeze. It carries the scent of saltwater and now that she notices she can hear the crash of the ocean far below.

"Cruella? Cruella?"

Jasper's voice cuts through the waves and she jerks to her feet, hastening down the steps towards the terrace where Catherine and Estella Miller both plummeted to their deaths.

"Cruella?"

She freezes. Jasper is there, his hand hovering at her shoulder. She whirls on him.

"The Baroness was my birth mother. She killed my adoptive mother right here. She tried to kill me, her daughter, TWICE!"

"She was a psycho."

"So am I! And so might… so might be any children I… we… h-have…" She shudders, securing her arms around herself like one might a straightjacket. "What sort of… what sort of mother can I be with her lurking over me."

Hands are on her shoulders, Jasper's hands. He smooths them down her arms then up again, the sensation of his touch centering her in the present.

"Cruella, you are not the Baroness."

She stares into those eyes, which have known her for so long. "How can you be sure?"

He exhales, bowing his head so it rests on hers. "Because I wouldn't love you so much if you were."

She stiffens. "You love Estella."

"I love you," he replies and bundles her into his arms. "All sides of you, for better or for worse, I love you."

Cruella stares, face squished against his chest, his chin resting upon her head. Jasper is warm, always so warm, it seeps into her, thawing the frost which has lingered ever since the Baroness used that whistle at the masquerade ball…

...and just like that night, it is Jasper saving her from her past, holding her tight so she won't break apart…

She shuts her eyes, breathing him in, that stupid aftershave he uses, and allows herself this moment…

…there is no past, there is no future, there is only this, there is only them…

She is unsure how long they stay like that, wrapped in one another's embrace, but when she pulls back - and, of course, it is always her that pulls back - the sun is a splash of scarlet in an indigo sky.

Jasper looks at her, face patient, recognising her need to speak before she does herself and then words are tumbling from her lips:

"My mother, the one who raised me… she was a saint… the kindest woman you'd ever meet… if not for her I don't know what sort of monster I would've been… and you… you're so good… the best of us… and… and maybe not… not anytime soon… but one day, I think… if… if it was you… then I wouldn't be so scared… I wouldn't mind… mind extending our family…"

His arms tighten around her, eyes roving her face for any hint of insincerity…

"Do you really mean that?" He sounds breathless.

She wets her lips. "I do."

He surges forward, kissing her brow. She tilts her head, straining into his touch. If he only shifts a little, his mouth would be on hers.

There is a pop as his lips lift from her skin and she grips his shoulders, fingers sunk like claws, terrified he means to disappear. But he stays, cradling her head in his hands, and panting as if it were more than a chaste kiss to the forehead.

"If… if… I decide not to marry you…"

Her chest goes taut.

"...what… what will you do? Will you find someone else?"

She stares at him, stunned he can even ask.

But he is looking at her - so raw, so vulnerable - the killer in her scents blood, but another part of her still remembers that frightened orphan girl who snatched off her hat in one trembling hand, bracing for judgement, and heard…

"I don't know, I quite like it."

Cruella sheds her armour.

"I told you. I told you. There is no one else. Only you, Jas. It's always been you."

His eyelids close, head bowing so it rests upon her own, practically nose to nose.

"One last question."

Cruella half growls, half groans."Whaattt?"

His eyes flash open, sparkling with mischief as his hand caresses her cheek. "May I kiss you?"

Lightning shoots through her veins and the urge to shove him away grapples with the need to pull him closer.

She fixes with an impassive stare, lets the silence stretch, until finally…

"You may."

It is unclear who moves first, both scrambling to touch, but the outcome is Jasper is kissing her, she is kissing Jasper.

It is possible, in her younger years, she imagined, once or twice, what it would be like to kiss the boy with corkscrew curls and a laughing mouth. She tasted it once the night they faked an engagement and has craved it ever since.

She is thrilled to discover it is every bit as good as she remembers - in fact, it is better - because even if it is a little clumsy, even if their noses bump as they try to get the angle right, even if she is reminded what they had for dinner - it is real, it is Jasper, and that makes it the best kiss.

When they part, just a fraction, for air she has to restrain herself from chasing his lips.

She peers at him through her eyelashes. "Is that a yes?"

She can feel his grin against her skin. "It was always going to be a yes. You should know, I find it very difficult to say no to you."

Her fingers toy with his thick curls. "It's one of the things I love about you."

"And the rest?"

She smiles, slow, sensual, sincere. "I love the rest too. All of you, Jasper, I love all of you."

This kiss is a little less gentle, a little more heated than the first.

Cruella breaks away. "Apart from your last name. That has to change."

Jasper laughs, the sound fills her throat, rumbling through both their bodies, and little else is said after that, their mouths otherwise occupied.

-vVv-

"We're getting married."

Horace pauses, beer halfway to his lips. "Is this a new angle?"

Jasper sighs. "No, Horace, this is real."

"Hmm," he cocks his head. "And you agreed to this willingly? She's not forcing you?"

"Rude."

Jasper soothes his knuckles across the back of Cruella's hand, eyes laughing.

"No… I…" his fingers entwine with hers. "I want this."

"Huh." Horace regards them both then swigs his beer. "Congrats then. Happy for you."

Cruella and Jasper exchange a look.

"You don't seem surprised?"

He shrugs. "You already act like a married couple. Might as well get the ring too."

Once again, Cruella and Jasper glance at each other. Horace has known the two of them longer than anyone else, he was there when they first met and every moment after. His lack of reaction is almost disappointing.

Then, Horace jerks in his seat, turning to them sharply, an odd glint in his eyes. "Which one of you confessed first?"

"Well… Cruella proposed…"

"CRAP!" Horace lurches from the armchair, startling Wink, who scrambles out of his lap. "DAMMIT JASPER! Why couldn't you have grown some damn balls! Now I'm going to be buying Buddy doggy treats for life!"

"I'm sorry," Cruella interjects. "Did you bet on us with my dog?"

"He was the only other person around when you two first started making goo-goo eyes at each other!"

"Except he's not a person, he's a dog!" Jasper exclaims. "He doesn't even have money!"

"We had an agreement."

"Did you shake on it?"

Cruella's smile is devilish and Jasper has to restrain himself from snogging her silly in front of Horace and the dogs.

"As a matter of fact…"

Cruella bends double, cackling.

Jasper shakes his head. "I guess… I think… technically, I admitted it first… you know… explicitly."

Because they have said "I love you" to each other a hundred-and-one different ways but never outright until that moment.

Jasper's oxygen cuts off as Horace squashes him to his chest. "Bless you, Jas, and your big, dumb heart. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

Jasper pats his back, gasping for air.

"I hope your Best Man's speech is better than that," Cruella drawls.

Horace goes slack and Jasper can breathe again. "Best… Man?"

"Unless you'd prefer Maid of Honour? You were quite fetching in that dress. Artie couldn't take his eyes off you."

"You're mad," Horace scowls and turns to Jasper. "Sure it's her you want?"

Jasper looks at Cruella, feeling like his heart is full of helium. "No one else I'd rather have."

He is certain he is grinning like a fool but can't bring himself to care when Cruella smiles back

"Ugh, this is worse than the pining," Horace mutters, heading for the door. "Come on dogs, let's go before I lose my lunch. And Buddy, don't think I'm forgetting our deal."

Buddy barks a response.

Alone, Jasper doesn't hesitate to reel Cruella into his arm. Her hand goes to his shoulder, the other rests over his heart, warmth pouring from her fingertips into his chest.

"He's right, you know," she murmurs, their lips only a breath apart. "I am mad."

"Good," he breathes. "Because I'm crazy about you."

Cruella laughs with surprised delight, filling the once cold and unfeeling mansion that they have made a home, and Jasper knows - he chose right.

-vVv-

John congratulates them upon hearing the news and maybe grips Jasper's hand a tad too tight as he shakes it.

"Take care of her."

His pleasant smile doesn't match his steel tone and Jasper decides not to point out he has been looking after Cruella since they were kids.

"Always."

John slaps him on the back. "Good lad."

Jasper waits until he is gone to wince, cradling his throbbing hand.

"Did John threaten you?" Cruella slinks towards him, amused, and kisses his hand better.

"Yeah, don't know why. As if anyone could be scarier than you."

She smiles like a knife and Jasper doesn't hesitate to taste those blood red lips.

-vVv-

Artie's first priority is, of course, the dress.

"Do you want to go with white or something more outrageous?"

Cruella's lips curve, slyly. "I've got a few ideas…"

Artie pounces. "Tell me you have sketches!"

It is not long before they are both crouched together on the living room floor like a couple of kids at a slumber party, gushing over various designs.

"Of course, you'll need to match the theme if you're planning on having one… how many guests are you inviting? A hundred odd or more exclusive?"

"Uhh, try very exclusive," Jasper interjects from his spot in front of the telly.

"Jasper wants to keep things small, private," Cruella informs with a smile.

Artie looks aghast. "But you're Cruella! The biggest name in fashion! You can't go small! What will your fans think?"

"This isn't for them. And I agree with my husband-to-be. This is about us."

She casts a fond look at Jasper, who is watching them warily. She winks and he relaxes, returning to the game.

Artie is still pouting.

Cruella clicks her tongue. "Now, will you continue to lecture me about my own wedding or do you want an invite to the most exclusive event in fashion history?"

Artie considers this.

"So where were you thinking for a venue?"

-vVv-

The Regent's Park fountain looks the same as when she first stumbled here, lost and newly orphaned, only to gain a new home, a new family. She can see them, young Estella meeting Jasper and Horace for the first time. They have been through so much together since then and now here they are…

She is about to marry Jasper of all people - that annoying kid who saw far too much.

She wouldn't have it any other way.

Her wedding dress is white and black, the folds of the skirt crafted from sheets of music - songs carefully selected by Jasper and Cruella both. Music and fashion, their two passions combined. The effect is not unlike the mannequin she "vandalised" in the Liberty of London shop window, which started the trouble and led to her becoming the designer she always dreamed of being. Another thing she owes to Jasper.

He sidles up to her, hand slipping into hers like it has always belonged there and is not just a development of the past few months.

"Think she'd approve?"

"Of you?" Cruella scoffs. "Please, she'd adore you, Saint Jasper."

"I did lead her daughter into a life of crime."

"True. It's your fault I ended up this way."

He sighs, dramatically. "And my punishment will be putting up with you for the rest of my life."

"Is that so bad?"

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "No, not so bad."

His hand is on her waist and she leans into it, rising on her toes as he bends to kiss her and-

"HEY LOVEBIRDS!"

They startle apart, glaring death at Horace.

He is immune. "Stop being all mushy over there, it's making me sick!"

"It's our wedding day!"

"You could save something for the honeymoon," Artie drawls, looking suave with his hands in his pockets - better dressed than the groom though not the bride.

Cruella stomps towards them, dress rustling, but Jasper checks her, his hand still locked with hers.

"Let John and Anita sort them out, there's something important I want to ask you."

"Oh?"

He gets down on one knee.

Cruella almost staggers back if not for his hold on her. "W-what are you doing?"

He grins, eyes twinkling. "What does it look like? I'm proposing."

"But… but this is our wedding?"

"I want to do this proper. Your proposal wasn't the most romantic."

"Jasper…" her breath hitches as he pulls out a ring box. "That… ring!"

She is transported back to another time, another proposal. Jasper is giving her the same look as he did then.

"H-how did you…?"

"I'm a thief. I didn't like the idea of you being parted from it, so I tracked it down. Took some effort but I got it back."

Cruella's lungs constrict, only a slither of air getting in. "How long…?"

Jasper's eyes are so soft and she thinks she understands now what that look is.

"I was waiting for the right time."

"This is the right time?" She tries for teasing, squeezing the words from her throat.

"I want you to understand I'm not doing this as a favour or because you wore me down, I'm doing this because I want to, because I love you, Cruella… I think I've loved you since you first dropped into our attic."

She blinks rapidly. Her eyes are beginning to sting and she will NOT ruin her make-up.

"Jasper… you'll wrinkle your suit."

"You haven't given me an answer yet."

"You haven't asked a question, darling."

"Ah, shhh…" he seizes her right hand, lifting it just short of his lips, "Cruella de Vil, won't you do me the honour of being my partner in crime for life?"

She snorts and holds up her left hand, wiggling her fingers to display the diamond already on her fourth finger.

"I will."

"Thief," Jasper beams, surging to his feet and capturing her lips along the way.

"OI! ARE WE DOING THIS OR NOT?!"

Cruella and Jasper do not separate as they both flip Horace the middle finger.

The ceremony is performed by a slightly bemused officiator. Despite his earlier bluster, Horace ends up cradling Wink, sobbing into the dog's fur, while Artie looks on judgingly.

Buddy acts as the ring-bearer. After all their jewellery heists, the trick is getting him to bring the rings instead of abscond with them.

John minds the dalmatians, looking on with pride, imagining how happy Catherine would be to see how her daughter turned out.

And Anita snaps photos of them all, pleased to see her old school friend receive the love she deserves.

By the time someone calls in a tip and the rest of the paparazzi descend upon the fountain, the ceremony is over, Cruella and Jasper married.

He smiles as he takes her hand and then they're running, running, running - laughing into an unknown future, secure in the knowledge that whatever happens, they will face it together.

-vVv-

Cruella de Vil's flash wedding is all anyone can talk about for weeks after the event. Even Charlie Croft's freak mauling by a dalmatian barely gets a mention when the papers are filled with that dress.

Cruella smirks as she skims the latest gossip columns.

"Anything of interest?" Jasper asks as he returns to their bedroom, bearing two steaming mugs of tea.

"You're a smooth-talking gold-digger who will break my heart and run-off with my fortune."

Jasper hums, perching on the bed. "It's the only plausible explanation."

Cruella mock-gasps, accepting her tea from him. "Mr de Vil! How wicked!"

"You're a bad influence, darling."

Cruella laughs at his poor imitation. "You love it."

"I do."

And then he leans down, pressing his smile to hers, and Cruella makes sure he knows just how much she loves him too.

Fin.


I am convinced Cruella (2021) is an AU and the Cruella in 101 Dalmatians was raised by the Baroness and that is why she is a puppy-murdering psycho.