pushbackthedarkness | (no subject)

Never in his life, with as long as it's been and with as many dangers he's faced, has Marcus imagined himself here.

And yet...

The gathering is small, especially now with Kat having gone, and Marcus feels her absence keenly. She had helped him with so much and her touch is everywhere, from the simple, but beautiful centerpiece on the table, to the suit she had helped him pick. It helps a little, having her influence scattered about the celebration. It wouldn't feel quite right, doing all this without Kat after having become so close to her over the years.

It's all so simple. They're on the beach, which feels appropriate for Marcus and Dan, even if they're not about to share why. Not far from where they stand, however, they shared their first kiss, years ago now. They've had dinners here, shared stories, and Marcus asked Dan to marry him mere feet from where they perform the ceremony. Simple is best, truly.

The ceremony isn't religious, because while Marcus is still a man of God, it's God who has made him into a weapon. He doesn't want that here and instead they opt for a civil ceremony, a friend Marcus has made who works at City Hall coming to officiate. There is no alcohol, but instead they have sparkling cider and an easy meal catered from a restaurant Dan and Marcus frequent often.

The only music comes from the bluetooth speakers Marcus has set up around the area, a playlist he and Dan had built together. And when the sun sets, as a surprise to them both, Sabrina uses her magic to light up the water in front of them in something close enough to a fireworks display that it won't attract too much outside attention.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The invitation was one of those unexpected things that isn't a surprise, given how close she is to Sabrina; an inclusion obvious enough to be normal but gracious enough that Rosie can't help being touched by it all the same. She goes, collaborating with Charlie to make sure they have enough tissues between the two of them for Sabrina's floods of happy tears (and they both know her well enough to know that, no matter any protests to the contrary, there will be tears), determined to enjoy the evening in all its simple, easy happiness. The ceremony is lovely, and the reception afterwards a delight.

As the sun starts to set, Rosie walks along the damp sand a few feet from the laughing, dancing guests and the music, the fingers of one hand hooked in the straps of her sandals while the other keeps her dress out of the splash of the surf. She knows Sabrina has something planned for the end of the evening, but for now, it's just her and the waves, the lights of the reception a dim glow at her back.

Sabrina has long since lost her sandals, and she can only assume they've been taken by the sea, since Salem insists it's so and she's lacking any desire to refute it. Her own dress lets her wade a bit further into the surf, though she doesn't stray far from her path, following Rosie into the quiet evening. Still a little flushed, her eyes only a bit pink at the edges, Sabrina welcomes the calm; she's cried plenty of happy tears, the cup of her heart overflowing just as easily for joy as anger.

"Hey," she says, just in case her approach is drowned out by the ocean, catching up enough to brush her fingers against Rosie's. There's time before she needs to fire up her magic. "Did I get a chance to tell you how lovely you look tonight?" She tucks a pale curl behind her ear, struggling slightly to control said curls without the usual headband. "This still would have been a wonderful night, but I'm really glad you and Charlie are here. I'd have had to use Salem as a tissue, otherwise," she adds, with teasing warmth.

"He'd never have let you hear the end of it, if you had," Rosie says, smiling at the thought of Salem's affronted chatter. Even if Sabrina was the only one capable of comprehending it in full, he still managed to make his opinions known even to the rest of them. With her hands full, she can't lace her finger's with Sabrina's, but she turns her wrist at the brush of the other girl's hand, pressing lightly into the touch.

"You did, earlier, but that doesn't mean it's not worth telling me again."

"You know, I remind him that traditionally a familiar isn't given nearly this level of freedom or agency, which in this case would mean he'd be a great handkerchief. Only then there's that business of how some unconventional half-witch invited him into this venture as a partner..."

Sabrina laughs, warm and happy with the memory, and easily turns her focus to sliding her fingertips, featherlight, up the inside of Rosie's wrist. "I'll tell you as many times as you want," she promises. "You look so, so lovely. Makes my heart turn over when I'm least expecting it."

Rosie's smile is bright and beautiful, her cheeks pinking at the compliment and the promises behind it. "And I'll love it every time you say it to me," she says. "And tell you how beautiful you are in return. Always."

"Thank you," Sabrina says, turning a little pink too, pleased.

She glances over her shoulder, at the party, at the tangle of happy emotions there. "You know Marcus was pretty convinced, around the time he took me in, that he'd end up alone? I mean, in a romantic sense. He just wasn't sure it could happen for him, or maybe happen again. Then all of a sudden there's this guy, and Rosie, they put most of the people in our age bracket to shame with the pining. I used to ask myself all the time how a psychic managed to miss what was happening."

Letting out a laugh, her attention turns back to Rosie's face, not so far from her own. "I'll admit it's easier to see the full picture when you're not in it."

"Not only yourself," Rosie teases, something soft in her eyes when Sabrina looks back at the bright oasis of the party. "I know for a fact you complained about it to me at least once a month until they finally sorted it out." She grins when Sabrina laughs, her cheeks flushing lightly when their eyes meet again. Their proximity makes it easy for her to lean in, brushing her lips against Sabrina's.

"If you tell me you're not saying that from experience, I'll never believe you."

"I needed an outlet!"

But any indignation melts under the soft press of Rosie's lips, one that Sabrina chases for just another moment. "Yeah," she agrees, her whole self gentling just a little, "I don't think I could deny that one. I wouldn't want to, anyway." Her dark eyes linger on Rosie's features, as if she's deciding whether to say it. "Would you believe me if I say that in trying to look at it from the outside, I think that whether I understood or not, or whether there was a reason for me to understand, I would still fall at least a little in love with you, each time?"

With the lights just far enough away, they're cocooned in twilight, safe and soft-- at least, that's what her senses tell her.

Rosie doesn't kiss her again, but she stays close, leaning in, pressing their foreheads together. A small smile comes to her lips, her cheeks flushing. "That," she says, and her voice is soft, "is something I can absolutely believe."

She holds her tighter for just a moment, arms around her waist, squeezing once and then relaxing. "I do love you, Sabrina. And I'm in love with you. It's...both. As it should be."