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"Cherish the thought, of having you here by my side…What?" Josef glowered at Mick sitting next to him in the passenger seat of the car; as Mick pressed his fist against his mouth, and spluttered uncontrollably at the sound of Josef singing Madonna under his breath. "It's that new Freshie, alright. She's been playing that song nonstop for the last two weeks. Everywhere I go, that's all I hear," Josef wrinkled his expression, and gesticulated in frustration, "the damn thing's stuck in my head."
"Hey, don't look at me," Mick held up his hands, a gesture of placation as he struggled to bring his merriment under control. "I'm not saying a word."
"Good," Josef spied a suitable car park, spun the wheel, and pulled into it with all the required amount of annoyance he could muster; tires screeching and handbrake jerked into position, "Keep it that way."
"You sure you don't want me to harmonise though?" Seatbelt unhooked, Mick paused with one hand rested on the door handle of the car, and turned to Josef; his attempt at a serious expression belied by the teasing glint in his eyes, and the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Yes, good, very funny," Josef pursed his lips, and shot Mick a decidedly disapproving look.
"Well I did learn from the best," Mick pretended to kotow to Josef's superior sense of humour then, the tone of his voice ladened with mock gratitude.
"Oh shut up," Josef huffed, and then pointed to the building in front of them. "Are you planning on sitting here, and mocking me all day, or are we going to go inside and get your suit fitted."
Mick uttered a sheepish apology, and managed to look suitably contrite. The showroom of Aurelio Candanedo, Professional Sastre & Tailor, loomed before him. Josef had insisted they come here. By this time tomorrow Mick would be a married man; surely he wanted to look sharp on such a special occasion.
Mick hesitated, and swallowed back his pre-wedding jitters, before stepping inside. He'd never expected to have made it this far; suddenly things seemed very real. Mick had to admit, he was glad of Josef's company.
"I think you should swap the purple waistcoat for something in silver, or blue," Josef held a swatch of material against the half-finished jacket Mick had chosen to wear. "And I like to see this in a single breasted style."
Standing with arms outstretched, as an assistant ran tape along the lines of his body, and scribbled measurements in a notepad, Mick thought back to the very first time he laid eyes on Josef Kostan. He'd been sporting a three piece so sharp you could have cut the edge of a knife on its tailored lines. There was little doubt; Josef knew what made a good suit.
Mick nodded his agreement, and then watched as his own tailor hurried to make the necessary adjustments. The assistant was pinning the hem of his pants now; checking the length was even, the cuff not too wide.
"Are you nervous about tomorrow," Josef asked, as he continued to make suggestions, and pointed out tiny flaws that needed fixing.
"A little, I guess." Mick thought of Beth, standing at the altar, radiating the promise of a new life. It seemed they'd come such a long way since those early days of discovery.
"What's there to worry about," Josef waved an extravagant hand, and then drew an arm around Mick's shoulder, "I'll be there. I'll even bring cuffs in case you feel like running away."
"Well gee, thank you." Mick deadpanned, and then offered Josef a lopsided grin. He was used to the antics by now.
The tailor returned with jacket in hand, and helped Mick slip his arms into the sleeves. Josef cast an approving eye.
"Definitely go with the single breast, keep the waistcoat double. You'll need a handkerchief and tie to match as well."
"We have a completed suit already made to your specifications, Mr St John," the Tailor offered, as Josef wandered off to browse the racks of accessories. "You can try it on if you like; see how the finished product will look."
Josef returned just as Mick was stepping out of the fitting room.
"What do you think?" Mick gestured to the outfit he was attired in, turned to the side and then back again.
"Very nice," Josef slipped a folded, silver brocade handkerchief into the pocket of Mick's jacket, and then drew a matching tie around Mick's neck. And then he was brushing the line of Mick's jaw with tender fingers, "You look perfect."
"Josef," Mick cupped Josef's hand in his, and pressed the side of his face into Josef's palm, before rebuking Josef's touch, "Come on; let's not get into this now. You know how important it is to me that nothing of the past gets brought into tomorrow."
"Don't want to start what you can't finish, hey Mick?" Josef teased gently.
Mick rolled his eyes, "Yeah something like that."
"You and your damn traditions."
Mick laughed then. "You'll live."
They collected the finished suit in the morning. Mick stood in front of the mirror in his hotel room, pulled at the line of his waistcoat, adjusted his handkerchief and tie. Josef would be meeting him downstairs, his own suit tailored to match.
Mick caught himself whistling a certain tune, and then checked his reflection one more time. It had only taken three lifetimes, two marriages, and a decade's worth of soul searching to be where he was today.
It was now or never.
"Would you take your places please?"
The celebrant gestured for them to step forward. He'd been here before, facing a similar altar. It all seemed such an age ago. The blonde haired maiden that had stood by his side then, had long since passed. It was time to move on.
Josef's breath warmed the side of Mick's face, his lips brushing against Mick's ear.
"I'll cherish you forever."
Mick smiled as he felt Josef's hand slip into his. It was these tender moments that made it all worthwhile.
The celebrant was speaking then. "Dearly beloved," he began.
Mick looked at Josef standing beside him.
Three lifetimes, two marriages, and a decade's worth of soul searching...
…And finally, it felt like he had gotten it right.