"When are you going to get me a ring?"

Kitty had meant the statement to be jokey and glib, but it came out as a sincere, almost needy question. Kitty was already mentally kicking herself.

She and Peter had been taking a stroll around the Sparxa "Presidental" garden, getting accustomed to their new (hopefully temporary) surroundings. They had talked briefly about wedding stuff, neither of them really clearly ready to set a date yet (Kitty hadn't even called her mother yet about the engagement. She suspected the call would go something like "is he Jewish?" No. "Well what about Dennis Greenblat? He's got a nice job in finance now." Mom, he spit on me in the 7th grade when he thought I was either a mutant or a ghost. "Well, I'm sure he's matured. People change, you know." Yes, mom, I know, but I love Peter and I'm getting married to Peter. "He's not that Russian fellow, is he? Did I tell you about grandpa Prydeman's mother? She was Russian Jewish, and my god, the things that-" No, mom, he's not the Russian guy. "The British one?" No. "Oh. And he's not Jewish?" No, mom. "Will he convert?"), and then she though about her grandmother's engagement ring: one of the very few things she had managed to save from the Holocaust, and how dad had given it to mom, and that maybe she wanted something like that, too.

"I...I guess I didn't think about it." Peter ruffled his hair awkwardly. "My mom...didn't really have one, not that I remember."

Kitty nodded and they lapsed into an awkward silence.

Then they spoke simultaneously:

"I don't really want one."
"I'm just waiting to find you the right one."

Peter and Kitty locked eyes and had to laugh. They were a disaster, but a disaster that fit so perfectly together. Kitty sighed contentedly and smiled; Peter took her hand, grinning from ear to ear, and got down on his knee. Again.

"Peter, you've already proposed to me. I don't think you can do it twice."

He shook his head, tutting her. "Kitty Pryde, I do swear to find you a super kickass engagement-and-later-also-wedding ring."

She rolled her eyes, but blushed warmly crimson. "Good to hear it, space boy."

Peter stood up, dusted off his knees, straightened his clothing, and then wrapped her from behind in a big, tight hug. He snaked his head around to plant a wet kiss on her cheek. "I love you, Kitty."

She held his hand and relished the moment. "I love you too, Peter."