“Stop it! Get off him!” Sally grabbed the Beav’s tail and yanked on it for all she was worth.

Monty was torn between protecting the family jewels and his precious glasses. “You’ve gone completely crazy!”

“Your influence!” The Beav tried to bitch slap him, but it didn’t go well. Too much paw.

Sally had some pretty good biceps, and she started making headway pulling on the tail, but the Beav had game, and she wasn’t planning to give up till she drew blood. Dean hadn’t seen a pileup this entertaining since the final thirty seconds of last season’s Giants game.

“You broke my glasses!” Monty whined, pressing his hands to his face.

“First your glasses. Now your head!” The Beav took another swing.

Dean winced, but Monty finally remembered that he had a Y chromosome and, with Sally’s help, managed to push the Beav off and scramble to his feet. “I’m going to have you arrested!” he shrieked like a pussy. “I’m pressing charges.”

Dean couldn’t take any more, and he ambled forward. Over the years, he’d seen enough film of himself to know the impression he made when he ambled—the way his long physique displayed itself to full advantage. He also suspected the afternoon sun might be setting off some fairly inspirational pyrotechnics in his dark blond hair. Up until he was twenty-eight, he’d sported a honkin’ pair of diamond ear studs, but that had been youthful overkill, and now he wore only a watch.

Even with broken glasses, Monty saw him coming and blanched. “You’re a witness,” poetry boy whimpered. “You saw what she did.”

“All I saw…,” Dean drawled, “…was one more reason we’re not inviting you to our wedding.” He made his way to the Beav’s side, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and gazed fondly into her startled lollipop eyes. “I apologize, sweetheart. I should have believed you when you said William Shakespeare here didn’t deserve closure to your relationship. But I had to go and encourage you to come talk to the poor son of a bitch. Next time, remind me to trust your judgment. But you have to admit that you should have changed out of your costume first like I told you. Our sex life isn’t anybody else’s business.”

The Beav didn’t look like the kind of woman who could easily be caught by surprise, but it seemed like he’d done it, and for a man who made his living with words, Monty’s verbal well had run dry. Poor Sally could barely manage a croak. “You’re marrying Blue?”

“I couldn’t be more surprised myself.” Dean gave a modest shrug. “Who figured she’d have me?”

And, really, what more could they say after that?