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Story Notes:

This is mostly inspired by the episode, but also a song that's been on heavy rotation in my car, called My Sweet Dream by Greg Laswell - mostly just to set the tone. 

If you're opposed to happiness - do not read this. :-)

Can't BELIEVE I forgot to thank my awesome beta - Sweetpea. You. Are. The. Best.

If I could write out my own dream

For the next time that I sleep

You'd be the first one that I'd see

And I the last one that you keep

 

 

Later, she snuggled up to me in a way I couldn't quite remember her having done before...her lips resting in the hollow of my collar bone. Our ears listening to the rain and the highway and the beat of my finally slowing pulse...

 

"Do you think the guy at the front desk thinks I'm a hooker?"

 

I'm sure no matter what that guy thought at the time, it morphed into thinking he'd given a room to complete lunatics as my laughter reverberated through the bed and down the floor, traveling down pipes and then all the way down into the earth.  Surely this kind of joy burrowed its way into something, somewhere deep and ancient. 

 

God knew I felt as if maybe I'd felt this way forever.  I felt as if every bit of sorrow or pain I'd ever felt had been miraculously dissolved.  I knew that wasn't true. I knew that nobody could feel this happy without having felt extreme levels of the opposite at some point...

 

Her hand slipped up my chest and into the hair at my neck. The sheets rustled softly around us, muffling the zip-zip-zip of the cars just outside.

 

The details of the Exit 17 Marriage Proposal (that's what we were calling it...as opposed to the Shoe Lace Proposal, or the Conference Room Coffee Proposal of 2008) were already starting to blur a bit.   I knew it began with something about the Fairview rest stop being ‘not half-way'... and that I owed her lunch. Then, there'd been the sensation of a cold, wet knee...and her smile...God, her smile.  I couldn't even remember exactly what I said after that.

 

Maybe if the ass kicking hadn't been my own, I'd remember something other than these snippets of sensation. But something told me that it wasn't the memory itself that was as important as this was - this beginning of everything, after.

 

I'd forever remember these 4 walls that were having trouble containing our happiness.

 

We'd drive by this place on road trips to New York.  We'd chuckle a little bit under our breath and then the eight year old sitting in the back seat - the one with Pam's smile - would say "what?"

 

We wouldn't answer the question until he was 16...and then we'd laugh some more at how grossed out he was.

 

I pulled her close and she said, "How the heck am I supposed to go to class now?"

 

"Is that a complaint?"

 

"No...just an observation," she whispered, her arms snaking around my waist. We just held each other in the quiet.

 

Thank God for stolen thunder.  Thank God for the lack of fireworks or hot air balloons.  Thank God for no rings stuck in hot sauce packets or Jello. No sentimental trips to Cuginos.  Thank God for natural ass kickings - like summer rain storms.  Things I could not have orchestrated on my own.  For lighting effects and soundtracks that were much bigger than candles or iPods.

 

"I have to go back for that stupid weigh in."

 

I felt her smile against my skin. "Maybe you should wear my ring and throw the whole thing off."

 

I pulled her hand up to admire it.  It certainly wasn't big. Not enough to impact any other scale but the one that made my heart feel lighter...

 

But the way she kept looking at it. Sneaking peeks after I'd first slipped it on her finger.  When not a stitch of that wet clothing was left on...I'd been so happy I'd forgotten...

 

I shivered even now thinking of the moment I'd wondered briefly what the sudden coolness was at my waist, when every other square inch of my body had been on fire.  Moving inside her like I'd never been there before.

 

I felt woozy suddenly. "Nah...I think it should stay right here."

 

She kissed my neck. "Probably."

 

"So," I said pausing for a moment, to turn towards her. Kiss her forehead.  "You wanna hear something embarrassing?"

 

"Always."

 

"This ring...was bought...probably a week after we started dating..."

 

She was quiet for a long moment. 

 

"And now I'm really embarrassed."

 

"It was probably bought a week after we started dating? Or definitely bought a week after we started dating?" She asked.

 

"Wow....um....definitely?"

 

"Well then you're definitely going to be late for your weigh in."



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