Disclaimer: I don't own 'em…

A/N: Immi issued this challenge…little bugger was trying to apparently squelch any desire I had to write. She didn't win.

"How much further? I don't know how much longer I can walk. Why don't they put rest areas out here?" She had been breathing for the last half hour and walking clumsily as well.

Luckily my back was to her or she would have seen me rolling my eyes. I had long ago decided that bringing Catherine on this little trek had been a bad idea.

I stopped and pulled out a bottle of water. I took a healthy swallow and then squirted some of the water down my back. When she caught up to me, I was sitting on a nearby rock.

"It's not that bad, Cath. Maybe if you were in better shape you'd feel differently," I said the last bit with a smirk on my face.

She took offense and squirted what was left of her water in my face. I reached out, grabbed her hand, and easily pulled her towards me.

She tumbled into my lap, her arms circling around my neck. "Tell me again how you managed to talk me into spending my day off with you on this 'nature hike' as you put it. I didn't exactly have dirt, sweat, and soreness in mind," she snickered and ducked her head before lifting it again. "Well, I might have had sweat and a little soreness in mind, all brought about by the dirty, dirty things I'd do to you. This, however, wasn't what I had in mind."

"Oh, suck it up, Willows. It'll be worth it. I promise." I reiterated my promise with a lingering kiss on her lips that ended with a slight popping sound.

She opened her eyes, glassed over and darkened with lust, and smiled goofily at me.

"If it's not, you're definitely not getting any tonight." She ruffled my hair and stood up. "Gah, you've got me wet now, Sara."

I didn't even have to say a word; the smile on my face told her exactly where my mind had gone.

"I meant I can't tell where your sweat ends and my shirt begins, gutter brain."

"You know, in a little bit, you'll be thanking me. See, sweat is like the body's air conditioner. Your body…"

She put her fingers against my lips, effectively silencing me. "Baby, I love you when you go all nerdy on me. I do. I really, really do. But I'm not in the mood right now. Let's just find this damn mensa you were talking about, okay?"

"A mesa—not a mensa. And we're here."

"This? This is what you brought me up here to see? We spent the last three hours walking in the fucking desert and this is why? Seriously, babe, I thought it was going to be something majestic. Something life-altering. Something…"

"You just don't know when to shut up, do you, Willows?" I pulled her close to me, kissing her roughly at first and then softening the kiss as my hands drifted up and down her sides. "Do I have your attention now?"

She nodded mutely.

"Good."

I sat my bag down and pulled out a light blanket and spread it on the ground. I sat down and took Catherine's hand, pulling her down in front of me. She relaxed back against me with my arms draped around her.

"You know, one of my favorite plays is Pygmalion," I started.

"Really? The one that was made into My Fair Lady?" Catherine asked as she turned her neck to face me.

I kissed her forehead and nodded, "The very same. Anyway, Shaw refused his Nobel Prize in literature because he didn't want public accolades for his accomplishments. Like him, I never wanted people to think I was great or compliment me. I just wanted to do my job and let it speak for itself. And until I came to Vegas, it had."

"What changed then?"

I looked away from her and at the sun which was just starting to settle between two cliffs in the distance. My lips curled into a smile and I felt Catherine turn her head again.

"Wow. Now, that's beautiful," she said as she watched the halo of colors slip through the small crevice between the two cliffs.

"No, you're beautiful," I squeezed her tightly in my arms. "And that's what changed. I thought you hated me for the longest time. We had these huge, epic fights. I never felt good enough in your presence. I always felt like I was a lesser person –a lesser investigator than you were. And you know, Shaw said, 'Silence is the most perfect expression of scorn.' That got me to thinking. One thing you never were around me was silent. So I know you didn't hate me."

"Baby, I never hated you. Severely intimidated by you, yes. But never hated. And we've been through this time and time again."

I just leaned my chin against her shoulder and turned slightly to kiss her ear. "I know. Anyway, this is my thinking place. This is where I came to the conclusion that you didn't hate me. And this is where I got the strength to first ask you out."

She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, the glinting sunlight from the desert sand making her glow more than she usually did.

She snorted lightly and said, "Well, if you used this beautiful place for inspiration, it's no wonder you asked me out—after all, I am the most beautiful woman you know." Her body jiggled with laughter against mine.

"Yes, you are. But do you know why I brought you up here today?"

She shook her head, "No."

"Ah, so the great Catherine Willows doesn't know everything. It's been one year."

"No it hasn't," she stiffened in my arms. "Our anniversary isn't until next week. Jesus, Sara, I can't believe you'd forget it that easily."

"Calm down, Snookums. Today is one year to the day that I decided to ask you out. That's why I brought you here."

She sighed contently in my arms, "Awwww."

I fumbled around in the bag I had brought with me and pulled out the small box and brought it around, placing it in her lap. "Don't open it just yet."

"What is it?" she asked as she looked back at me.

"It's a music box. But not just any music box. I had this made for you. Press that button beneath it."

She did and the soft dulcet tones of "I've Grown Accustomed to your Face" began to play.

"What can I say? I like My Fair Lady and it was Shaw that helped me realize my feelings."

I moved from behind her and crawled around to sit on my knees in front of her.

"Catherine, I've grown accustomed to your face," I smiled shyly as I lowered my gaze and then lifted my eyes to hers again. I reached between us and lifted the lid on the box finally. "And I want to see it every single morning for the rest of my life."

She looked down from my eyes to the box in her hands and back up to my eyes before practically shoving me down on the blanket beneath us and devouring my mouth with hers.

She sat back up, still straddling me and pulled the ring from the box, sliding it onto her hand. She held her hand out, watching as the rays from the setting sun caught each facet just right.

"I'll take it that's a yes?" I asked from flat on my back.

"That's a hell yes, Sidle. Now, get me off this mensa so I can go get sweaty and sore with my fiancé."

"It's a mesa—not a mensa," I explained again as I folded the blanket and stuffed it back in my bag.

"Look," she said as she placed her diamond-studded hang against my chest, "you just put a ring on my finger. You were right to do that—very right. I get to be right about everything else from here on out. So if I call it a mensa, it's a mensa."

She leaned up on her toes and kissed me again before getting all giddy looking at her diamond.

"Yes, dear," was the only response I could mumble as she slipped her hand into mine and we made our trek back down the mensa. I was looking forward to letting her be right for the rest of our lives.