"Well fuck me sideways if it isn't Jaye!"

Jonathan cackles as I wipe up the mess I've made of our table. One of these days I swear that boy is going to lose a very important appendage. Actually, that wouldn't be very good for me either. What I can do though is throw a few choice words at the unlucky bastard that made me spit out my coffee.

"Who the- Oh my god Adrian?"

The older man grins. "Little hussy has some brains on her still."

"I see you have a stunning vocabulary as always. Now where is your better half?"

"Better half my-"

"Don't get him started on that," Steve interrupts, sliding an arm around the other man's waist.

A passing teenage boy quietly mutters, "Stupid homos."

My remaining coffee somehow finds its way into his face. Then he just happens to trip quite violently over Jonathan's leg. Funny how things work out like that.

"Still a psycho bitch I see," Adrian teases.

Steve laughs kindly. "Jonathan, you are a brave man indeed."

"Masochistic is more accurate, but I'll take brave."

There is some general humming, smiling and shifting about.

"So Jaye, what have you two been doing?"

Jonathan tilts his head towards me with a supportive smile. You see, even after all of this time I have a spot of trouble when it comes to telling the truth. Not that I get away with much since Jonathan is quick to call me on my bullshit, but the compulsion is still there. Besides what am I supposed to tell them?

There is of course the interesting story involving the science lab and a renegade Bunsen burner, or how Jonathan's nerdy way of asking me out to prom is still a legend at school. Not to mention that PETA was called about the dress I wore, but that tale is told only under oath. Perhaps they'd like to know about Jonathan completing his degree in two years, and the research he is doing with his parents now. Maybe my work at the local publishing company or small stint in acting is more of what they're looking for. Adrian would probably get a kick out of the night I said fuck propriety and asked Jonathan to marry me. And if they aren't ones for sappiness there is always the number of jobs I've gotten fired from, our combined student loans, and a slew of domestic quarrels.

Jonathan kicks me under the table, snapping my attention back to the situation.

"We're living happily ever after."

Oh yeah, I went there.


A/N: I just had to end it with the ultimate cliché. Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed. Check my profile for the status of future stories (I have about four lined up). Baked goods for those that click that little review button and give me that one last fix!