They couldn’t have asked for a better day. The sun was shining. It was neither too hot nor too cold. Flowers bloomed throughout the gardens Nikita carefully maintained with Madeline’s help and expertise. It was lovelier than even Madeline herself had imagined it would be.

"Come, Nikita," she exhorted. "This is the wedding you should have had. All those years ago."

Nikita stood there on the back lawn, trembling like an unfledged young girl. It was so beautiful. It was a dream come to life. At Michael’s insistence, she wore white, though their four children were in attendance at the wedding in various roles. I shouldn’t be wearing white, Mom. It’s not right."

Madeline held a long slender finger to Nikita’s lips. "It’s exactly right, Nikita. Michael knew it instinctively, and I’m so glad you listened to him. You look...incredible."

"Thanks," she whispered, sniffing at the bouquet she held. Madeline had hand-picked and arranged the flowers herself, choosing the colors and textures carefully to set off Nikita’s natural beauty.

"Thank you, for letting me do this for you and Michael. I know it can never make up for any part of what you suffered through the first time, Nikita, but--"

Nikita grasped Madeline’s hand in hers and squeezed gently. "Mom...there’s nothing to make up for. Do you know how much happiness I’ve found since then? Here, with Michael? And our children? I’ve been truly blessed." Nikita faltered, feeling as though she would cry, and though she was not that superstitious, she didn’t want to take any chances by letting tears fall on her second wedding day.

Nikita changed the subject deftly, commenting on how beautiful Madeline herself looked. "Mom, you look wonderful. I think you’ve positively bloomed since you had Kady."

Madeline nodded, a soft look in her bittersweet chocolate eyes. "She’s so different from Connor, Nikita. I can’t claim to understand why that should be, but it’s true."

"Maybe you’re finally acknowledging that you like being a mother. What do you think?"

Madeline looked thoughtful. "I hadn’t considered that, truly. I’ve been so busy doing, I haven’t had the luxury of worrying over every single detail, like I used to."

"Then again, maybe that’s the reason you’re looking so much better. No time to fret compulsively." Nikita chuckled.

"That’s what Neil thinks. And who am I to argue with him? The man’s a god."

Nikita burst out laughing. "I dunno, Mom, Neil’s never particularly struck me as the god type, but there’s no accounting for taste, is there?" Her laughter took the sting out of her words, though she had no real desire to hurt Madeline or Neil.

Neil was just...Neil. A comfortable teddy bear type man, though he was neither soft nor cuddly to look at. Now Michael, on the other hand...Nikita smiled to herself. He was a god. Definitely god material. And he was all hers.

The minister was already at the podium, awaiting the arrival of the other couples. Nikita would be renewing her vows with Michael, Madeline would do the same with Neil. And though no one had been able to witness Davenport’s marriage to Derry, they had agreed to renew their vows today as well. That left the others. Walter and Miranda, of course. No surprise there. But the real surprise came when Madeline invited Declan to participate in the wedding ceremony. With Sey.

For a brief moment, she actually imagined Declan would refuse. She knew how private he was, despite his growing openness about his relationship with Sey. But the real problem lay with Sey. Sey was not given to public displays of anything, including affection, though he had loosened up considerably since his commitment to Declan. So Madeline was truly delighted when Declan told her that Sey had agreed to join the others.

She would have asked James to join them, but his relationship with Smoke was too new and potentially fragile. In addition, though she had no problem with Smoke coming into James’, and by proximity, the family’s, lives, she wondered if Michael secretly disapproved of James committing himself to an exotic dancer. After all, Michael placed a high value on education, whether formal or informal, and Smoke barely managed to squeak through school.

Still, it was not for her or Michael to say. Other people’s lives were just that. Other people’s lives. She heard the music begin, and she ran to take her place beside Neil.

***

Michael held out his hand to Nikita, and for a moment, the years fell away. It was seven years ago. A few months after they had escaped Section. Michael looked younger, but more intense. His love for Nikita had brought them safely through the gauntlet they just ran, but that love would be sorely tested by the end of the wedding ceremony. By the now deceased Perry Bauer. His wounding and abduction of Nikita cast a pall over what should have been the happiest day of their lives. Though it eventually ended happily, Michael could never quite think of that day without becoming upset.

This time...there would be no such interruption. Nikita looked just as radiant as she had seven years ago. Flushed with the first glimpse of their future together. She moved gracefully down the aisle on Michael’s arm, and soon, they both stood in front of the minister. Michael was wearing a black Armani suit. He refused to wear white again, no matter how much Nikita and Madeline pleaded with him to do so. His memories of that day inevitably brought him back to the moment he looked down and saw his white suit hopelessly stained with Nikita’s blood. He would not, indeed could not, go there again.

The flower girl had strewn beautiful scented blooms across their path. When they reached the minister and stopped, Emmy stopped, too, uncertain where she was supposed to stand. Nikita smiled at the little girl. She would be an incredibly beautiful woman one day, but for right now, she was at exactly the right age to enjoy an occasion like this one. A hand belonging to her father reached out and moved her gently to the right of the bride and groom, and Emmy smiled in relief.

Sasha, the designated ringbearer, proffered the ring to Michael. Nikita refused to remove any of her rings. On that particular issue, she was adamant, and she didn’t care how superstitious it made her seem. She would never take off her wedding ring or any other ring Michael had given to her. Therefore, for the occasion, as if Michael actually needed an excuse, Michael bought a special ring to commemorate the renewal of their vows. Cast in silver, the ring was a puzzle, its halves twisted together in such a way that they could not be removed without destroying the ring. It was meant never to be taken off, and Michael said as much.

He slid the ring into place on her left index finger when directed by the minister. They answered the traditional questions with the customary responses, and yet, everyone was touched by the heartfelt readings they gave those replies. When Michael said "I do", he looked directly into Nikita’s sapphire blue eyes, and there was no doubt that he meant what he said.

Likewise, when Nikita answered "I do", her lips parted in unconscious desire to give voice to the depth of her feelings for her husband. She could not take her eyes off him. It was like stepping back in time. He might be a bit older, but the changes were subtle, too subtle to be detected by anyone casually meeting him for the first time.

When the minister said, "You may now kiss the bride," Michael took that line very seriously. He claimed her mouth possessively, as if no one else were present, a fact that surprised no one. For they had never been closer together than they were at this moment.

That which God has joined together, let no man put asunder.

Madeline and Neil took their places before the minister. Elegantly dressed as always, Madeline wore a cream-colored suit with matching heels. In an effort to properly accessorize his wife, Neil opted to wear a similarly-colored suit, instead of his customary polo shirt and jeans.

He could still hear Madeline’s voice a couple of days earlier. "You want to wear what?" she had shrieked. Well, she didn’t really shriek. Neil was convinced that if there were a fire burning down the house, Madeline would be totally unable to scream, even though her life depended on it.

Of course, Neil hadn’t been serious about wearing jeans to the wedding. But he loved tweaking Maddy. It didn’t matter how much warning he gave her or how well he telegraphed what he was about to do, Maddy rose to the bait, like a trouper.

Still, Neil did not possess Madeline’s sharp fashion sense, and he was undeniably more comfortable in jeans than in Armani. But in deference to his wife as well as the occasion, Neil wore a suit. Armani, like Michael’s. Though he knew he didn’t cut the dashing figure that Michael did. Neil shrugged to himself. Some men were born to wear Armani. Michael was one of them. He, on the other hand, fell into the Gap long ago.

Sad to say, there were no startling revelations during Madeline and Neil’s renewal of their vows. Their voices calm and well-modulated, they spoke their responses quietly, if not precisely dispassionately. Until Neil was asked if he would love, honor and cherish his wife, until death parted them.

"Wild horses couldn’t tear me away from her side," Neil said vehemently, provoking a raised eyebrow from Madeline herself as well as a curious glance from everyone else.

She smiled, always the perfect lady, no matter what untoward thought or feeling niggled at her. "Thank you," she replied, nodding at Neil.

***

Walter and Miranda were next. Though they were not married as long as any of the others, their bond was evidently just as strong. In the short time he had known Honey, Walter had discovered a woman who was both independent and yielding. Always in the right areas. Or so it seemed. Perhaps it was just that they were on the same wavelength about so many things. Their lives had a peculiar harmony all of its own, and they were happy.

Lost in Miranda’s splendid hazel eyes, Walter nearly missed responding to the minister’s question. The minister cleared his throat and repeated himself. "Ahem...do you, Walter Steven, take Miranda Elise as your wedded wife?" He stared significantly at Walter.

Walter chuckled nervously and blushed. "Um...yeah. I mean...it’s cool."

"Pardon?" commented the minister skeptically.

Walter nodded rapidly, his head jerking back and forth as his broad smile disappeared. "I mean...yeah, both of us. We do." He pointed to himself and then to Miranda.

The minister bit back a laugh. Some people were simply more committed than others. These people certainly were.

***

It was Declan’s turn to stand before the minister with Birkoff. He wasn’t sure how the minister felt about same-sex marriages, but he knew that Nikita had made a point of apprising the man about his relationship with Sey. None of them wanted any ugly surprises, and it would have defeated the whole purpose of recreating a special occasion like this one.

Dressed in matching black tuxedos, they made a striking couple. Declan’s long red hair was loose and flowing down his back, while his partner’s hair fell in dark waves to his shoulders. Sey was so nervous, he was certain he would be unable to utter a sound. But just then, Declan turned to look at him, his silver-grey eyes warm and loving, and his heart flew up into his throat. What was he doing here? In front of all these people? Granted, they were his family. But how could he tell Declan how much he loved him, in front of everyone?

As if he were reading his mind, Declan smoothed a hand over Sey’s hair, laying claim to him in a very subtle way that reassured his lover. Sey looked at Declan, a question in his eyes, but Declan’s response was to mouth ‘I love you’. Grasping Sey’s hand in his, Declan nodded to the minister to proceed. To the casual observer, Declan might have appeared to be in perfect control, but only Sey could feel the trembling of his hand. It gave him strength as nothing else could.

Declan was just as anxious about the ceremony as he was. He simply didn’t show it. If someone like Declan could be nervous, and yet brave enough to continue, well, so could Sey. The minister’s words interrupted Sey’s reverie. With a start, Sey realized that he had asked him a question that required an answer.

"Do you, Seymour, take this man, Declan Connor, as your chosen mate? In sickness and in health? For richer or for poorer? For better or worse? For as long as you both shall live?" The minister’s face gave nothing away. If he did not encourage such liaisons, he certainly did nothing to discourage such commitment.

Sey took a deep breath, but he didn’t answer the minister. Instead he turned to face Declan and concentrated on speaking his vows directly to him. "I do," Sey spoke quite clearly. A moment later, he felt Declan caress his hand approvingly.

Sasha, true to form, broke the tension by giving a huge war whoop. "Whoopee! Go, Dad!"

Everyone laughed, including the minister. But no one was surprised when Michael invited the young boy to have a seat next to him for the duration of the ceremony.

***

Davenport was last. He held hands with Derry throughout the minister’s speech, releasing her only to kiss the wedding band on her finger after their vows were renewed. They might only be married a few months, but in their hearts, they had been together for over two years.

When their vows were completed, they turned to face the others, holding their entwined hands high in the air. "I love you, darlin’," Davenport said to his wife. "I love you, too, Jake," she answered without hesitation.

Love. What is it good for? Absolutely everything.