Author's note: for such a short fic, this one took the better part of forever to write. Special thanks to suckmyyankeeballs for beta-ing it. This takes place roughly a year after series 2
"Marry me."
The words seemed incredibly foolish as soon as they were out of his mouth, and he kept his eyes forward knowing the peculiar look that must have been on her face.
It had been sheer chance that he was on his way back to Tenter Street from H Division when Susan had been leaving on a few errands. Since she had allowed him to return things between them had been tentative. The grey winter had only accented the silence between them, and for once, he longed for her to scold him, to yell, to show some sign that everything she had endured the year prior hadn't completely wiped away the woman he loved. But as painful as it was knowing he could do nothing for her, nor would she allow it, he rested a fraction easier in the knowledge that she was at least close by.
As spring came to Whitechapel, her smile slowly returned and it began to feel like Susan might actually be happy to have him around and wasn't simply tolerating his presence. And on that warm June day, she had easily agreed to have him accompany her for the afternoon.
As they had strolled arm in arm through the streets, Jackson couldn't help but admire how her golden hair shone in the sunlight, reminding him of the first time he'd caught a glimpse of her in the garden at the Swift estate in New York and had fallen for her immediately. He had mused to himself that despite all they had been through, he couldn't help but love her as he had from that first moment and thus he spoke.
At his words, Susan stopped in her tracks, surprised at how two simple words could make her heart pound and yet they were words he had said to her before. "If memory serves, I did," she said softly. "Nearly five years ago now."
Another man would have left it there, but Jackson continued, "And do you regret it?"
"Not at all," she said without a moment's hesitation.
Inwardly, he sighed in relief as they continued down the bustling street. A twinkle returning to his eye, "So if we met for this first time on this very street, and I asked ya, you'd still marry me?"
At this Susan stopped once more, this time turning to face him with a sad smile, "You still believe, after these five years, that we were somehow destined to be together?"
"I do."
"I'm afraid I don't, dear husband," Susan said pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I prefer to think that after these five years, we've chosen to be together."