Chapter Text
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”
Todd closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and tries to pretend he’s not hearing what he’s hearing.
“...in the sight of, er, the greater Seattle area…”
It’s probably fine. Dirk’s probably just talking to himself again. Todd’s going to keep on folding these dumb towels and not think too hard about it.
“...to bring together in holy matrimony…”
Todd groans, drops the towels, and stomps over to the window.
“Dirk,” he says, sticking his head out the fire escape, “what are you doing.”
Dirk gestures at the fairy lights strung through the balcony; at the sheet draped over the iron grate above; at his own velvet bow tie and the blazer he’s clearly borrowed from Farah; and, finally, at the two bushy-tailed squirrels thoroughly absorbed in the seed cakes Dirk has spread around the grate. “What does it look like?” he says. “I’m officiating a wedding.”
Todd bangs his head against the window frame. He really doesn’t want to know, but he also knows that Dirk is going to tell him anyway, so he picks one of his thousand questions at random and says, “Are you even licensed?”
“As a matter of fact, I am!” says Dirk, delighted in the way that means this is exactly what he wanted Todd to ask. “I have been ordained by the Universal Life Church and am now legally eligible to perform the solemnization of marriage. Really, it was quite simple, I should have done it years ago --”
“Dirk,” says Todd, “when, exactly, have you been called upon to ordain a wedding?”
“Well, you never know!” says Dirk. He adjusts his bow tie, which is a deep magenta, and probably the darkest color he has in his eye-watering closet. “Plus, I thought it’d come in handy for Farah and Tina, someday --”
Todd nearly falls out the window. “For -- They’re not even dating!”
Dirk gives him a look. "Aren’t they?”
“Okay,” says Todd, giving up and climbing out the window, because they’re obviously going to be there a while, “so, just to be clear, you got ordained to perform the whatever solemnity of marriage for… squirrels.”
“Their names are Lucille and Alexandra,” says Dirk, pointing at each squirrel in turn. The squirrels, to their credit, seem completely unbothered by the matrimonial disarray around them; they remain completely absorbed in the seed cakes, even when Todd slides by them just a few feet away. Todd’s been semi-successfully ignoring Dirk’s squirrel training regimen, but it seems to have gone better than most of Dirk’s random hobbies (woodworking, for example, which gave Todd a minimum of three heart attacks a day). “And they’re getting impatient,” Dirk adds, “so you’d better hurry up and sit down.”
Todd obediently takes a seat on the stairs behind Dirk, as Dirk clears his throat and unrolls, no joke, a three-page speech hand-written in the most illegible cursive Todd has ever seen. “Dearly beloved,” he starts again, “we are gathered here today to join Lucille and Alexandra in holy matrimony…”
From the rest of the speech, Todd infers that Dirk has done an enthusiastic amount of research into as many wedding traditions as he could find. He starts out with the broad outlines of a Hallmark Christian wedding, goes on for a while about friendship and the universe, pauses to toss some rice over the squirrels (along with more seeds, since the seed cakes are nearly gone), and ends with a confused attempt to make Alexandra break a glass (Alexandra has exactly zero interest in this, and shows it by bristling her tail until Dirk backs off).
But despite all the disparate influences, Todd has to admit, it’s… not a bad speech. In classic Dirk fashion, he’s taken all these random pieces and connected them into something that somehow makes sense. By the end of it, Todd’s almost convinced these dumb squirrels are in love, and now they’re heading off to a life of matrimonial bliss.
Dirk finishes with a final line about “what we have joined here today, let no tomcat tear asunder,” and then, as if on cue, the new Mrs. Squirrels nibble the last of the seeds and scurry away off the fire escape. Dirk watches them go with a happy sigh. “Ah, young love,” he says, rolling up his speech. “Thanks for witnessing, Todd. Assistant-witnessing. Witnis-tanting?”
“How long did it take you to write that speech?” says Todd, helping Dirk gather up the sheet canopy and the scattered roses.
“Er… Since last Tuesday,” says Dirk.
Todd starts to be impressed, but then he notices the way Dirk isn’t quite meeting his eyes, and he makes himself think back to where they were last Tuesday. “Wait,” he says slowly, “last Tuesday, is that when…”
He stops halfway through the window as the full memory hits him. The previous Tuesday, they’d been breaking into someone’s attic and accidentally disturbed a nest of squirrels, and Dirk had said something about a three-generational family, and Todd had said, “Squirrels don’t get married, Dirk,” and Dirk had said --
“Dirk,” says Todd, whatever lingering goodwill he had after Dirk’s speech ekking away by the second, “are you telling me that all of this -- " He gestures at the seeds and the bowtie and Dirk’s entire officiant license -- “was to prove a point?”
“Er,” says Dirk.
“I don’t believe you,” says Todd. He trips over the windowframe like some sort of reverse karma and scowls at Dirk from where he lands on the floor.
“Well,” says Dirk loftily, “I did prove it.”
“This does not count,” says Todd.
“I don’t see why not! It was perfectly legal! And,” Dirk adds, offering a hand to Todd to help him up, “I even bought cake.”
Todd eyes Dirk’s hand warily. “What kind of cake,” he asks.
“Chocolate,” says Dirk, “obviously.”
Todd sighs and lets Dirk pull him to his feet, because he’s a sucker for chocolate cake, and also, unfortunately, for Dirk.