As Sam gazed adoringly at his bride as she danced closely by his chest in the poolroom of Cheers, on this, their wedding day, one thing came to mind.
This girl can dance.
Of course, they'd all-himself included- given her grief over her dancing skills, especially after viewing her attempts at ballet. That Diane had always, always tried so hard, she'd put her heart into everything she did, but for some reason, success had always been ever so slightly out of reach.
The writing. The poetry. The singing-although, after she'd broken into a what could have been corny version of What a Wonderful World after their ceremony, he'd known she'd had a beautiful, angelic singing voice. Too bad she never pursued singing. That girl could sing.
But now, six years after their meeting, six years of hardship to put it mildly, arguments, splits, miscommunications, jealousy, ect, ect...more than ever, Sam believed she'd found her calling.
If he knew Diane as well as he thought he did (and was there anyone on earth who knew her better than Sam Malone?) than there was no doubt that she would make a heck of a wife.
She'd try, sometimes fail, but no matter what, Diane would always try to make their life together the best she could make it. And it would be no easy feat, as she after all had just married Sam.
He chuckled. Diane looked at him curiously, but he just kissed her forehead and pulled her so close, the only thing she could do was to sway to the music, her head lying contently on his chest.
She was something in her white gown, high heels, fancy hair-thingy and yet somehow she kept stepping on the trail of beer nuts that Norm had accidentally spilled during the ceremony.
Yes, he smiled. That was Diane Ch...Diane Malone, and she was more than a sight.
She was his wife, and at that moment, Sam realized she wouldn't have to try so hard anymore.
She'd won more than just a silly courtroom dispute- she'd won his heart, and for that, he wasn't sure if he could ever thank her enough.
But he'd sure as heck spend the rest of his life trying.
She stopped, still smiling, and looked him in the eyes. "What are you thinking about?" she cooed in that feminine voice of hers that would always drive him crazy.
"The Sox," he stuttered.
She pulled back. "What?"
"You know, if they will make it to the playoffs this year, that kind of stuff."
"Sam," she pouted, pulling her arms to her chest.
"Ssh. Just dance, will ya?"
The music from the jukebox stopped, and all eyes were on them. "Why should I give you a dance if you're thinking of anything but..."
"You're a good dancer, Malone," he whispered, trying hard not to let the stupid watery eyes give away anything else about how he was feeling.
"What in the world..." then she broke into the biggest smile he'd ever seen. "I'm Malone, aren't I?" she giggled.
"You'd better be, because I make a policy of never sleeping with another man's wife. Not twice, anyways."
She wanted to pout, to argue...but something stopped her.
It was a kiss of a lifetime that kept her quiet.
So Frasier wisely put the music back on, and to Carla's eternal resentment, Sam and Diane began to dance again, and it was a dance that he never wanted to end.
If she had anything to say about it, their dance never would.
The end