I do not own Bates Motel.
But, in some ways, I do own a Dylan. And I love him so much.
Yeah, Whatever
Forever
They were riding the ferry when he did it.
Not very romantic sounding, but Dylan Massett had been racking his brain for just the right time to pop the question.
Nothing seemed to fit.
Everything seemed too public, too much pressure.
Too pretentious.
Too cheesy.
They had ridden the ferry before.
Sat inside.
Ambled among the walkways.
Stood at the railing like they were now.
Her leaning against the metal, staring out over the water.
Him behind, arms wrapped comfortably around her.
Strands of her beautiful auburn hair tickling his face.
Air cooling with the waning day.
The water below, lapping and undulating.
Ever in motion. Ever constant.
Ever changing.
Ever there.
Ever.
Forever.
That he was a word he liked.
Forever.
Forever with Emma.
That was what he wanted.
They had been in Seattle six months, the best six months of his entire life thus far.
The most peaceful, most constant. The happiest.
She hadn't made any suggestion, any hint that she wanted him to propose to her.
No longing looks at engagement rings or sad smiles at couples getting engaged in restaurants.
No sifting through wedding magazines, no pointed pauses at boutiques.
She seemed happy and content with the way things were between them.
This was all Dylan.
He wanted to be with her.
He wanted to marry her, be bound to her.
He wanted the permanency.
He wanted the lifetime.
He could only hope that it was what she wanted too.
Here goes nothing.
And so, with Seattle approaching behind them, Puget Sound below, Mt. Rainer beside, and a beautiful sunset painting the sky in pastel reds and blues above, Dylan Massett took a breath.
And whispered to his amazing, living, breathing girlfriend.
"It's beautiful."
She blinked heavily, as if in a dream, and murmured a wordless reply.
And Dylan continued.
"Not as beautiful as you though."
She smiled, snuggling back against him.
And he wrapped her up a little closer.
"You're everything to me, Emma. I never want to do anything but make you happy."
Carefully he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out the ring Will had offered him days before.
The one Dylan had been carrying in his pocket every day since, waiting for the right moment to present itself.
He brought it around to Emma's line of sight as he spoke, unable to keep the tremble entirely out of his voice.
"Will you marry me?"
He felt her intake of breath.
Saw her hand raise to her mouth.
Then she turned in his arms and he dropped to one knee, heirloom looped through his forefinger so as not to drop it in the chilly waters of the Pacific.
Emma's face was a picture of surprise and delight as she gazed down at him.
"Dylan?"
He couldn't help the smile spreading over his face as he spoke again.
"I love you, Emma. Will you marry me?"
He held the ring up to her, an offer of his devotion and heart forever.
Even though she already had it anyway.
"Oh, Dylan, yes! Yes, I will marry you!"
His heart exploded with joy as she held out her left hand and he slipped the ring on her third finger, feeling himself shaking as he did.
"It's your grandma's. Your dad gave it to me. It might not fit but I can get it resized if I need to."
She gaped at him, looking even more shocked as he rose.
"You talked to my dad?! What did he say?!"
She was gripping his hands with a strength only she could have.
"I told him I wanted to ask you to marry me and I wanted to talk to him about it because I wanted us all to be okay. He said he was glad. I hope that was okay."
And her beautiful smile widened.
"Oh, Dylan! Yes, it's okay! It's wonderful! You're wonderful!"
And then she kissed him passionately.
Melting him completely as relief and happiness poured through him.
They kissed for several long, wonderful moments, heedless of anything but each other.
Breaking apart, much as they had done on the banks of the White Pine Bay lake cabin, Dylan Massett and Emma Decody gazed into each other's eyes.
And broke into quiet, shared laughter.
I love you, Emma.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
Emma.
Who was now the same direct, lively person Dylan had first fallen in love with, spoke up.
"So, when do you want to get married?"
They laughed together again at what was clearly their mutal eagerness.
And Dylan gestured toward the wheelhouse.
"Well, I've heard ship captains can perform marriage ceremonies. Want to go for it?"
He said it in a joking manner, heart hammering so hard it hurt.
Meant it in a joking manner . . .
"Don't pressure me. For anything."
. . . but only if she did.
Emma's eyes gleamed and flashed, her face overbright, still half laughing as she whipped her head from him to the wheelhouse and back.
"Seriously? Dad would hit the roof!"
Yeah, there's that.
Then Emma seemed to nearly explode in a burst of light and joy.
"We'll give him a cup of tea before we tell him! Come on, let's go!"
And grabbing his hand, pulling him toward the aforementioned wheelhouse.
Dylan hung back.
"Wait, Emma. I don't want you to do something you're not ready for. We can wait and talk to your dad."
She turned and kissed him.
"We will. We'll get married and have him there. But this one's for us!"
She looked so excited and happy and beautiful.
"If you want to."
And all Dylan wanted was her.
"Okay."
Emma grinned, breathless and exultant.
"Come on!"
". . . take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do."
"And do you, Emma, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do."
"Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."
And no kiss had ever been so sweet.
Okay, so according to my research, ship captains aren't really supposed to do this and the marriages are not always legally binding.
But I got impromptu married in the rain at a renaissance festival by a wood elf named Puck.
Then a month later, we got married "for real" by a church minister.
The first ceremony was better.
And we've been married for almost seventeen years.
So suck it, naysayers. ;)