The thrift stores turned out to be a bust, but on the day of the wedding, one of Mer's non-attending friends called back to say he had a suit he could lend Dean. While Mer and her roommates were getting ready, Dean slipped out to pick it up.

When he returned to the house, he found all four women crowded in Mer's bathroom wearing their slips, hair and makeup in different phases of doneness. The air was rife with the smell of hairspray and other unidentifiable flowery scents. "Dear God," Dean coughed. "You guys should crack a window or you're gonna suffocate."

All four of them gave him a look in the mirror. "Fine, I'll do it," Dean offered airily, walking over to open one of the windows in Mer's room.

Mer came padding out of the bathroom. "So, let's see it," she said, gesturing at the garment bag Dean had laid on her bed.

Acting put upon, Dean walked over and unzipped it for her, revealing the black suit jacket, white shirt, and slacks beneath.

"Slick," Mer commented, flagging her eyebrows. "Tie?"

"It came with a bowtie," Dean replied, repulsed. "But I think I have something else in the car."

"I like that," Mer approved. "You're gonna look very handsome."

Dean tried not to blush. "We'll see," he grunted.

"And it's a good thing, too," Mer continued with a sly smile. "Kate's coming over early to carpool."

Dean rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "So, I guess I'll go and get changed…" He grabbed the garment bag and headed for the bathroom down the hall.

Mer walked back into the bathroom to find she had been edged out of her spot in front of the mirror. She hung back against the wall, seeing that her roommate, Kiara, was finishing up anyway.

"I don't know why you do that," her other roommate, Monique, said.

It took Mer a second to realize she meant her. "Do what?" she asked, brow knit.

"Try to push Kate on him," Monique replied. "And every other girl, for that matter. You're always trying to set him up."

Mer shrugged. "I don't see what the problem is," she defended. "Dean's a great guy. Sure, maybe he never hangs around long—but plenty of our friends are looking for—"

"That's not what I meant," Monique interjected. "Come on, girl."

"No, you come on," Mer countered, playfully swatting at her. "What?"

Monique put down her eyeliner and turned to appraise Mer with an astonished look. "For someone with your grades, you can be really oblivious," she told her bluntly. When Mer stared at her expectantly, she continued, "Dean's never going to get with any of our friends because he's so stuck on you."

Mer let out surprised laugh. "What?" she asked, regarding Monique like she was out of her mind. "That's ridiculous. Maybe Dean was right to open a window in here…" She moved to open the window above the shower.

"Okay, if we're getting into this, I'm with Monique on this one," Phoebe put in. "He worships you, Mer."

"Kiara?" Mer tried, looking at her in the mirror.

"I'm staying out of this," Kiara answered, focused on pulling her long, black braids into an intricate bun at the back of her head. "Monique, you said you would help me with my hair."

Mer felt relieved when Monique acquiesced, turning her attention off the current subject. She wasn't so lucky with Phoebe.

"So, you've really never considered it?" she asked.

Mer shook her head. "No, I mean…we see each other so little…"

"But he keeps coming around," Phoebe reasoned. "And more and more often, seems like."

"And the phone calls," Monique chimed in. "Don't tell me those somehow don't count."

"Hey," Kiara interrupted, snapping her fingers. "Hair." To which Monique snorted and shook her head, continuing with her bobby pins.

Mer smiled fleetingly at the exchange, her mind swirling back to the topic of Dean. "He's a good friend," Mer defended. "That's all. He's away a lot, we have to keep in contact somehow." She gave Monique a look in the mirror.

"Okay," Phoebe leveled, as if talking to a petulant child. "So, let's say in an alternate universe where he does like you, would you go for it?"

"No," Mer answered instantly, shaking her head. "No, definitely not. Never."

"Damn, okay," Phoebe responded, eyebrows flying up.

Monique laughed. "That's cold, girl," she joked.

"It's only cold because you guys are living in this alternate universe," Mer upheld. "In this universe, Dean and I are friends. And he's…Dean. He doesn't waste his life pining after anyone, okay? He's not that type."

"You sure are defensive," Phoebe teased.

"Guys," Kiara scolded gently. "Let up."

Phoebe and Monique backed off, both reluctantly going back to their hair and makeup.

"Yeah, and let me in," Mer told them, nudging her way toward the mirror. "I have to finish my eyeliner."

"I feel like a penguin," Dean announced a few seconds later, walking into the room and standing in view of the mirror.

All four women turned around to take him in.

"Damn, Dean!" Phoebe exclaimed.

"You clean up nice!" Monique added.

"Very James Bond," Kiara approved, nodding.

Dean reddened, shrinking back out through the doorway and laughing awkwardly. He glanced at Mer and saw her taking him in; something about it made him even more self-conscious and he turned back toward his exit, muttering, "I was right, though. The bowtie is a little much…"

Mer followed him down the hall to the bathroom were he was appraising himself in the mirror. "I think you look great," she told him genuinely, leaning against the doorframe.

"Really? This bowtie…"

"Let me see," Mer requested, stepping forward as he turned to face her. She fiddled with the bowtie for a second and then stepped back.

"Stop looking at me like that," Dean implored.

"Like what?" Mer asked, a lopsided smile forming on her features.

"Like so…closely," Dean described. "I feel like the thing under the microscope in one of your labs."

Mer chuckled. "Sorry," she said. "If it makes you feel any better, fecal and fluid samples have nothing on you."

Dean's eyebrows lifted. "So I'm better looking than pig shit. I'll take it," he chided.

Mer laughed again. "Much better looking than pig shit," she returned.

Their eyes met in a way that made Dean quickly avert his to the mirror. He cleared his throat and feigned analyzing his hair.

"You could ditch it," Mer suggested. "The bowtie, I mean. If you hate it that much."

"I'm gonna go get the one I have in my car," Dean told her.

"And I actually need to get ready," Mer realized, backing out of the room. "Kate and the others will be here any minute."

"I'd better be on my best behavior, then," Dean quipped, throwing a wink her way before heading downstairs.

Mer hurried back into her bathroom, just as the other three were finishing up their looks.

"Oh my God," Mer commented. "You all look incredible."

Phoebe and Monique preened, curtsying for effect. Kiara smiled humbly and continued to apply her mascara in the mirror.

The doorbell rang downstairs. "I'll get it!" Monique chirped. "That must be the others."

"Shit," Mer cursed. "I gotta hurry."

"I'll help," Kiara offered kindly, capping her mascara. "Your hair's a mess."

Mer chuckled. "You're telling me," she replied, glancing at herself in the mirror.

Monique and Phoebe shuffled out of the room and, soon, Mer could hear the larger group carrying on downstairs.

Mer sat down on the chair they had dragged into the bathroom and kept as still as possible, applying her makeup carefully while Kiara curled and pinned sections of her hair.

"I hope you don't let them get in your head with that stuff," Kiara said suddenly, bobby pin between her teeth.

"What stuff?" Mer wondered. Then, "Oh. The Dean stuff, you mean."

"Yeah," Kiara responded. "You know I love them, but they're just stirring shit up."

Mer grinned, always appreciating Kiara's level-headedness.

"They seem to think a man paying interest has to mean something," Kiara continued, cracking a humored smile as she shook her head. "Is Dean having a thing for you the craziest thing I've ever heard? No—far from it. And I like Dean, but I know you. You want a guy who's in the same area code more than a few times a year."

"Exactly," Mer responded, relieved to know Kiara understood.

"And Dean's no dummy, he knows that," Kiara told her. "Feelings or not, he wouldn't ruin what he has with you now over them."

"How are you so wise?" Mer asked.

"It's because I like girls," she answered matter-of-factly. "I don't get caught up with ya'll's hetero hijinx."

Mer laughed.

"Stop moving!" Kiara commanded, giggling herself. "We're at a crucial moment back here."

Mer straightened up in her chair and did her best to hold back her laughter.

"On that note," Kiara said, sobering only slightly. "I know you, Phoebe, and Monique have some sort of master plan for the way your lives are gonna go. I watch the three of you squirm every time we get a new save-the-date. Don't let that get in your head, either—I'd hate to see any of you sacrifice your happiness for the marriage industrial complex."

"You should write a book," Mer insisted.

"One thing at a time," Kiara reserved. "But don't worry, it's on the list."

"You must think we're absolutely ridiculous," Mer posited, grinning.

"Only half the time," Kiara quipped. She stuck a last pin and Mer's hair and stepped back, exclaiming, "Voila!"

"Thank you," Mer raved, turning her head to admire Kiara's work in the mirror. It was a low, loose bun, kept interesting with twists and braids throughout. "Wow," she commended. "Is there anything you can't do?"

"Girl, you've been with me to karaoke nights," Kiara joked, giving her a look.

"Good point," Mer accepted. She stood from her seat, leaning toward the mirror to dab on her lipstick.

"I'm gonna head downstairs," Kiara told her. "Sounds like they're pre-gaming and I wanna get in on that."

"I'm right behind you," Mer responded. "Just have to get into my dress."

She walked downstairs a few minutes later to find everyone had vacated the kitchen and were now seated out on the back patio. She poured herself a vodka soda and gathered up the long skirt of her blush pink dress in one hand before heading out to join them. Descending the back stairs, she was met with whoops and hollers from her friends. "Stop it," she snorted.

Dean walked over and held out his hand. "Gimme your drink," he offered. "You're making me nervous."

Mer grinned, handing him her glass and taking up her dress with both hands. "What, you don't think I'm coordinated enough?"

"I know you're not coordinated enough," Dean teased.

"I hate heels," Mer proclaimed as she reached flat ground and took her drink back.

"I do too," Dean agreed. "You're almost as tall as me now." He placed a hand on the top of his head and measured across to Mer's. "Yeah, there's like an inch to spare."

"I have some heels you could borrow, if it would make you feel better," she taunted.

"Very funny," Dean replied with a wry smile.

She strode over and stood near the others, who had since forgotten her entrance and were now back in conversation about what to expect at the wedding. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Dean as she listened.

"What do you think their first dance is going to be?" Kate wondered, glancing around at the others. She looked stunning as always, in a blue dress that brought out her eyes and with her platinum hair pin straight and pulled into a half-up, half-down.

As the others debated her question raucously, Dean leaned in toward Mer. "I don't know why you let me worry about my suit," he said quietly. "No one's gonna be looking at me tonight."

Mer smiled dazedly, taking a moment to realize he was complimenting her. "I tried to tell you," she returned coyly with a small shrug of her shoulder.

Dean chuckled and took a sip of his beer.

"I mean…thank you," Mer added. "I like the tie."

The group had since decided it would be either Kelly Clarkson or Norah Jones and were laughing to themselves.

"Anyone want another?" Kiara was asking, standing at the top of the stairs leading into the house. "Kate? I know you're good for one."

"I don't know if I should…" Kate replied. "We had to take my car."

"I've got you," Dean offered, nodding her way.

"Really?" Kate asked, as if Dean were behaving particularly gallantly.

"Totally," Dean assured. "I don't mind driving. I'll stop after this one." He held up his half-drunk beer. "Go wild."

Kate stood to follow Kiara, touching Dean's shoulder in appreciation as she passed.

"I thought you were all excited about the open bar," Mer said, bobbing her eyebrows as she sipped her drink.

"Yeah, well," Dean returned casually. "Tonight's all about you guys." He gestured around at Mer and her friends. "I'm a last minute addition and don't even know the bride and groom—I can rein it in for a night."

Mer smiled appreciatively. "That's very nice of you," she observed. "But if you change your mind mid-party, we can always taxi home."

"If their first dance is to Norah Jones, I may not be able to help myself," Dean joked.

Mer laughed. "I'll consider myself warned."