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She knew something was up. She'd known for weeks, because Will had been hinting. Hinting with his sweet, sweet words and most of all his actions. He'd left roses for her in her office at work, or in the vase in the living room when he'd gone out without her, or pulled the petals off and left them in a trail from the front door to their bedroom, before seducing her extra slowly and lovingly, with her favourite slow jazz CD playing in the background amongst the candles and the strawberries and chocolate he'd feed her later. He'd bought her dinner three times in the last two weeks, once at their favourite restaurant, once at the place they'd first gone out to dinner to, and once at the most expensive restaurant in town. He hadn't let her cook at home at all, and had more than once served three courses in their own tiny dining room, with the finest wine available at the local store. Small things too; he drove them to work every day, where they normally shared the driving, he held her hand at every possible opportunity, even at the school, stroking her palm or the inside of her wrist gently with his thumb. Although she had thoroughly enjoyed it, she couldn't help but be a little worried at all this extra attention. When she confronted him about it, though, he smiled his smile and whispered that nothing was wrong, he was just ever so in love with her. So she basked in his affection and returned it whenever she could, sharing her innermost secrets and her desserts and her showers with him.

And this was how she knew something was up. And she thought she knew what it was. She'd ransacked the apartment for any sign of a ring whenever he'd been out, and had spent many hours awake in bed smiling to herself as he snored next to her, dreaming up ways he might be planning to ask her to spend the rest of her life as his wife. And she'd thought of all the happiness they would have as she said yes.

But she didn't think, for a million years, that it would be this.

"Three months?" she yelled. "Three whole, entire months? MONTHS?"

"I'm sorry, Em. Just listen for a moment," he soothed, taking her hands and trying to calm her.

"No. No I will not listen to you Will Schuester. I won't. I can't believe this. Why the hell didn't you tell me?" She snatched her hands back and stalked to the other side of the room.

"I tried."

"NOT VERY HARD! In fact, you made me feel like everything was better between us than normal! Why've you been acting like this if you don't have good news?"

"Because I wanted you to know that just because this is happening doesn't mean our relationship is going to go wrong," he sighed, before adding, slightly too quietly for her to hear through the blood pounding through her ears, "and maybe I do have some good news."

She started breathing frantically and heavily, pacing up and down and chanting "I can't believe this. I just can't believe this."

"No, no. Emma. EMMA. Look at me," he demanded, crossing the room. "You need to calm down. Calm down and we'll talk about this properly."

"No William. As far as I'm concerned there is nothing to talk about." And with that she picked up her bag and left.

Will dropped himself onto the couch, let his head fall back and sighed, trying to stop the tears. He knew not to follow her, that she wanted some time to process everything. He helped himself to a beer and picked up the phone.

"Hi, Mrs Pillsbury. It's Will. I just wanted to let you know that, um, Emma's on her way over to yours. She left a couple of minutes ago. She's in a bit of a state. No, no, it's my fault. I've upset her, but when she gets there, could you talk to her? Thanks. I mean, not straight away, but when she's ready, just tell her I want to discuss everything with her. And I love her. Ok. Thanks, Mrs Pillsbury. Bye."

He thought about his next decision carefully, but eventually dialled a second number.

"Hey mate. It's Will. Listen, I've got some bad news. I think I'm going to have to cancel on you."

"What? This has been planned for months!"

"I know, I'm sorry. Is there no one else who'll go?"

"Not at this short notice! Wait, did you tell Emma today? Is that why? Oh God, she didn't take it well did she?"

"No. Not well at all. I can't do it, I'm sorry. I really am. It's my fault, I should have told her ages ago, let her get used to the idea. I've hurt her so much."

"I told you you shouldn't have left it till a week before we're supposed to go to tell her. What happened?"

"She yelled at me. A lot. Then left."

"For good?"

"No. At least I hope not. Oh God, what if she has gone for good? What do I do?"

"Go find her. Tell her what she means to you. And tell her that you're still coming with me."

"I'm sorry mate, I can't."

"Yes, you can. We talked about this, and you knew she wasn't going to take it well from the moment we even had the idea. We've wanted to do this trip since college, and if you're serious about having a family with her, we haven't got much chance left to do it."

"But mate – "

"No, listen. If she's this mad with you, maybe it will do you both some good to spend some time apart, even though you're still together, if you see what I mean. Show her your relationship will stand anything."

"God, I hope we're still together."

"So do I. Happiest I've ever seen you. Still planning on proposing next week before we go?"

"I don't think so now. If I know her at all, it'll be a few days before she speaks to me again."

"Look mate, I've got to go. Just think about what I said, Ok? We can shorten the trip a bit if you want, maybe two months, if that will persuade you or her at all. A three month road trip might have been a bit ambitious anyway."

"Alright, I'll think about it. See you."

"Bye Will."

Will sighed. Maybe it would be better for him and Emma if he still went. He knew he couldn't decide without speaking to her, though, and he knew that it would take a while for that to happen.

*A week later*

She missed him. She missed him so much it hurt. She missed talking to him, being held by him, laughing with him, she even missed shouting at him. Because at least then she could see him. Most of all she just missed him being there.

But she was still angry. So, so angry. Three months.

She hadn't spoken to him in the last week, and had only seen him when their paths had crossed at school. She hoped they hadn't broken up, but she couldn't be around him comfortably at the moment. She needed more time to accept the fact that he hadn't told her until last week that tomorrow, he was going away for three months.

She could feel the tears threatening again. But she was sitting in her glass-walled office at work, and she refused to cry.

She refused to cry as she had when she had received Will's texts. His wonderful, understanding texts.

I'm so sorry I hurt you. I'm ready to talk when you are.

Hope you had a good day. Sweet dreams.

I love you.

Saw you in your office with Quinn today. Looked like she was crying. Hope it wasn't too painful and you're OK. I miss you.

I still want to talk about this with you. Let me know when you want to.

I love you.

Good night baby.

I hope your appointment with Dr Shane went well today.

I miss you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

She still couldn't bring herself to answer them, but she appreciated them so much. Just a little reminder that her Will was still there, ready to sort out all their problems whenever she was.

She was straightening the pens on her desk when her phone rang. Claire. Claire was the wife of one of Will's closest friends, and since they had been together, Emma had become good friends with Claire.

"Hi, Emma! Look, I know you're at work, I'm sorry, I was just too excited, I couldn't not phone!"

"Oh, that's OK, I don't have any appointments this afternoon. So what's happened?"

"No, I meant I was excited for you! Congratulations!"

"Thanks. Uh, what for?"

"What? Oh. Wait, what? Oh my God, Emma, is Will OK? He was so excited about this, the only way he wouldn't have asked is if something's happened. Is he alright?"

"I don't know actually. I haven't seen him. For about a week, actually."

"Oh, God, Emma, are you OK? What's happened?"

"We had a fight. I'm staying at my parents. Um, what was he excited about? And why were you ringing to say congratulations?"

"Emma, it's not my place to say, I'm sorry. I might have ruined it already."

"There wasn't much there to ruin, I think." Emma was struggling to fight back the tears now, and her voice caught. "Please tell me. It could be important."

"I can't. I'm sorry. He'll want it to be a surprise."

"It's too late for surprises, Claire! I haven't spoken to him in a week and he's going away tomorrow for three months!"

"Wow. Um, ok. Look, I'm breaking a promise not to tell you here. He's going to be so mad at me. So if you can, just try to pretend you worked it out by yourself, or Mark told you, or something."

"I don't think your husband will appreciate that, but fine, I'll try."

"Right. Well, the thing is, Emma. Emma, before Will left for his trip, he was, um. God. Um, Emma, he was, today, he was going to propose."

Emma was silent. Stunned. She felt like the world was going into slow motion and she was struggling to breathe as the phone slipped from her hand, clattering onto the desk. She forgot all about Claire on the other end of the line as she pushed her chair back from her desk and stood up. Without a second thought, she began to run. As fast as she could in her heels. Towards the choir room.

Thoughts raced through her head. She had been right the first time. All those hints. They were for good news, not bad news. All along, he had been going to ask her to marry him. Things had been better between them than normal. She could feel her anger leaving her behind with every step. Over the week, she had come to accept that going away would be good for him. He was under so much pressure with the glee club, and the Spanish finals, and Sue still not leaving him alone, and Figgins taking her side, and the financial worries they'd had recently, not to mention her pregnancy scare a couple of months earlier, and things with his mother were still difficult. In fact, she thought it was a really good idea for him to get away from it all, even if it meant going without her. For three months. She realised, as she ran, that she wasn't angry that he was going. Not at all. Not even that he'd planned to go without her. She was just angry he hadn't told her, which she now realised was because he was terrified she would react the exact way she had, and she was angry because she wanted to go on holiday, which she would have the chance to another time, and she was angry because she would miss him so damn much. But she loved him. They loved each other. So much. And they would get through it, because they got through everything. Hadn't they got through the problems with both of their parents together, and weren't they getting through her everyday struggles with her illness together? God, she had shouted at him so much. Made him feel so bad. Now she felt bad. Every piece of anger in her was being replaced by guilt. Guilt and love and respect for the man she wanted back so very, very badly.

Finally, she could see the choir room. She didn't slow, just kept running, still feeling as though she was doing so in slow motion and willing herself to go faster. She burst in through the door, and saw the shock on his face as he turned to see the determined look in her eye, as, panting, she threw herself at him. She didn't even notice the glee club gaping at their guidance counsellor, but thought she saw fear from Will, before he caught her, stumbling backwards slightly, her legs wrapping round his waist, her arms around his neck, her lips searching for his. His surprise grew but he melted into her kiss, holding her to him tightly. She broke it and scattered more repeatedly over his face.

The room fell completely silent at the next words.

"Marry me." They were whispered, but said with such certainty. "Marry me. Marry me. Marry me." The kisses to his face continued. "Please Will. Marry me?"

Will slowly put her down. "Emma?"

"Please Will. I'm so sorry. So, so sorry." The tears began again. "I reacted so badly. You need to go away, you do. But I'm not letting you go until I know whether you want to marry me or not, and Ijust spoke to Claire. She told me everything, about how you were going to propose today, and she'll kill me for telling you she told me, and I missed you so much, and your texts, and the argument, and everything, and I love you, and I want you to marry me, so please, Will, please, will you marry me?"

She was full on crying before she got half way through her speech, and to the glee club it didn't make any sense whatsoever, but Will knew exactly what she was trying to say. Just like she'd known he would.

He took her hips and pulled her even closer than she already was, resting his forehead against hers. "Of course I will," he whispered. "Of course I will," letting a few of his own tears fall. They both let out a watery laugh. He pulled back and looked at her seriously. "I'm still going though."

"Good. You deserve it. I'll miss you like you won't believe, but I want you to go." She smiled, then laughed again. "We're engaged!"

"On one condition."

"Anything."

"Come home?"

"Of course."