I'm not dead! Whoo! Much to several people's disappointment. So, sorry about not updating anything, I've been so very busy. I'd like to start things back up again, though. This fic's uber short, but it was an idea I had and figured it would be a way to get things rolling again.

Ignores season two because you can't kill Wally. Just can't. I refuse.

Enjoy. ;3

He slouched back in the designed chair, arm slung casually around the top of it. He eyed her lazily and how she sat prim and polite. It was uncharacteristic, normally, for her to be so proper during dinner. She felt that if she was going to dress up in a dark, slim dress, she ought to act the part.

The two of them already had enough attention glaring on them from all corners of the restaurant, she wanted to avoid any more eyes if possible.

When he offered to take her to dinner, "Dress nice," she hadn't expected it to be Big Belly Burger he'd take her to. She'd fought her hardest to avoid walking through the doors, but the giant idiot had a way of getting her to do things she didn't really want to do.

And she hated it.

She, in turn, glared at him quietly. When the man at the counter impatiently called their number for the third time, she quirked a brow at him and gestured with her chin towards the front of the diner.

They never broke gazes, but he eventually sighed and stood. As he moved to get their orders, his significantly larger, he straightened the collar and cuffs of his black suit. When he came back, he set down the tray and gave her the wrapped burger she had asked for, setting beside it an order of fries.

They didn't eat, and she couldn't help but admire his will because he was Wally and Wally was always starving.

She smirked when he swallowed visibly, a small but so large a victory. The expression dropped grandly, however, when he dropped a small object on the table. When all she did was stare at it and tap her fingers together, he prodded the case forward slightly across the table.

"I don't know what you want me to do with that," she said finally.

"Oh, I think you do," he nodded sagely.

She pursed her lips, hands halting in movement. "I can distinctly recall what it is that you're supposed to do with that, though."

He smirked lazily at her.

But he wasn't supposed to win. She was supposed to win.

So she picked up a fry and started chewing on it, completely ignoring the subject that he'd brought up. "You remembered to feed Brucely before we left, right?"

And just like that his smug air dissolved. "Yes," he said sourly. "I did."

She nodded, holding back the satisfied smile she so wanted to grace him with. "That's good. And you let him out?"

"For the love of God, Artemis! Open the damn box and say yes!"

Her lips formed a frown to mask the laugh she urged to express. "Say yes? To what question?"

He scowled darkly, hand fisting over the box, and stood. He walked around the table to face her chair away from it, the metal legs sounding their protest against the tile floor. He dropped roughly to the floor, and while he didn't wince, she did.

"Artemis Crock, will you marry me, you fucking pain in the ass?"

She smirked, thoroughly satisfied that, despite the fact that now everyone in the diner was watching and her fries were cold, she was winning.

"I guess," she sighed dramatically, unable to keep the biggest smile she'd ever smiled from her mouth. But she really didn't mind when he pulled her up from the chair and gave her the best kiss she'd ever been given.