Will had just flicked the basketball game off, when he was startled by a very curious scraping noise out in the hallway.

Followed by a very distinct thunk.

His head swiveled to eye the peephole from across the room suspiciously, as he heard a tiny voice.

"Oww."

Followed by an even fainter whimper.

"Will?"

"Yes?" he called back, setting his beer down and moving towards the door in his bare feet.

"Do I live here?" the voice wondered aloud, as he reached for the doorknob.

He found her sprawled out on the floor, back slumped against the neighbors' door. He blinked a few times in confusion as her heels fell away from each other in a V-shape, revealing a very unladylike view beneath her plaid skirt.

"Hi," she laughed, tilting her head sideways. Her brown eyes widened with her smile, as though they shared some clever inside joke which he had forgotten.

"Hi there," he raised an eyebrow. "Did someone have fun tonight?"

"Yes," she shook her head in opposition, suddenly distracted by glint from the links on her bracelet. He watched her finger the chain cautiously. "Is this mine?"

He couldn't help the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he moved from the doorway to slide down the wall beside her. "Miss Pillsbury, I do believe we are a little drunk."

"We are?" her eyes widened further.

"You are," he poked at her nose. "I'm glad your college friends got you home safe. To me."

"They're not my friends," she whispered as he guided her head onto his shoulder with a warm palm.

"Why is your purse sitting on the other side of the hallway?" Her glazed eyes struggled to follow the direction of his finger.

She sighed. "It was really heavy."

"And your coat and scarf. And gloves. And hat?" his finger bounced down the festive-colored trail of wool that wounds its way from the elevator to their doorstep.

"Too hot."

He laughed, kissing the top of her head. "I love you. What do you say we get you in bed? Or to the nearest toilet."

"Okay," she laughed.

She groaned a little as he pulled her up by the arms and into their apartment.

"Why don't you get changed for bed and I'll grab your stuff out of the hall, okay?" He pecked at her forehead.

"You're so pretty, Will," she announced, quite loudly, as he watched her eyes focus in on his lips. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

He bit his lip in amusement, silently wondering if she would remember any of this the next morning.

"Not as pretty as you. Now go change your clothes and I'll be in there in a second."

She tugged at the sleeve of her sweater. "Um, where are my clothes?"

"In the bedroom." He repositioned her body towards the bedroom, nudging her forward a little.

"Right, you're right," she said, stumbling in that direction.

After gathering her belongings and slipping a note of apology under the neighbor's door, he flicked off the lights in the den and wandered into their bedroom, expecting to find her zonked out on the bed or possibly the carpet.

"Emma?" he asked the empty dark room, stooping down to pick up her discarded clothing and hang it over a chair. He wandered into the bathroom to find it untouched. As he combed his fingers through his hair, feeling more than a little exhausted, her heard her giggle coming from the closet.

He pulled open the folding doors to find her standing in a very short and very flimsy green baby doll and matching lace underwear. "I found my clothes," she said proudly. Before he could protest, she leaned up on her tip toes, looping an arm around his neck as she planted her lips onto his, shoving her tongue into his mouth.

"Whoa there," he pushed back gently, not wanting to hurt her feelings but also not wanting to subject himself the odor of tequila and salsa he had tasted on her. "Are you sure you don't want something a little more comfortable?"

"I thought you liked this," she grinned, pushing him backwards onto the foot of the bed where she proceeded to straddle his lap.

"I do, I do," he swallowed. "But I'm tired. And you're drunk."

Not relenting, she ground into his lap a little too enthusiastically, oblivious to his painful wince. "Yes, I'm drunk. So let's do something crazy Will!"

"Crazy? Like what?"

"Like have sex." Her eyes squinted in concentration. "On. . .the roof."

He tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Sweetheart. It's January."

"Oh."

He lifted her up off of his lap, setting her on the bed.

She clapped her hands together, bouncing on her knees beside him. "We could play a game! And make it dirty!"

"Um, we have Boggle. And Uno," he replied skeptically, his heart feeling a little tug of sympathy at the sight of her deflated expression.

Just as he was about to try another round of coaxing her to bed, her chin shot down to her chest.

"We could get married," she mumbled.

"Emma," he frowned, testing a hand on her kneecap.

"Don't you want to marry me?" She looked up at him. The light from the bathroom reflecting the tinge of hope in her eyes.

"Of course I want to marry you," he assured her, resting a palm on her shoulder. "But I want it to be very special," he nudged at her chin playfully, "and I want you to be able to remember it."

"Then how come you won't ask me," she whined, pulling away from his fingertips. "We live together, and you love me," she sniffed. "What's wrong with me?" she cried, turning to bury her tears into her pillow.

Will managed to recover his senses after the initial shock of her confession and sudden turn of emotions had waned. He curled beside her, brushing her hair away to read her eyes. "Emma, sweetheart, what is wrong?"

"You don't want to marry me because you don't think I'm fun!" she wailed, hiccupping a little between sobs, as he pulled her into him.

"Did something happen tonight?"

"No," she mumbled against his collarbone.

"What did they say to you?" he ventured, pulling back a little to read her eyes.

"Nothing," she shook her head. "They just told stories." She paused. "That I wasn't in."

He squinted a little, not sure of the connection between this information and the root of her meltdown.

"I wasted," she sniffed, "my whole life Will. I could have been young and carefree and having fun but I just. . ."

"You just what?" He reached down, stroking the inside of her wrist with his thumb.

"I just hid in the corner like a scared little mouse," she swallowed. "And now it's too late."

"Says who?" he whispered, trailing his fingers around her elbow. "You're young, Emma. We're young. And we have time to do all the things that you want to do." He kissed her nose. "All the crazy things you want to do."

"You think so?" she looked over at him skeptically, poking at his leg with her foot.

"I know so. And don't worry about what your friends tell you. Half the things I did in college were just plain stupid and I regret most of them."

"Like what," she shifted closer to him on the bed, smiling a little as she nuzzled into his neck.

"I'll tell you sometime when you'll remember the next morning," he assured her, pulling her against him.

"Aww, like what?" she mumbled against him. "You had sex on the roof or something?"

"Now that's just ridiculous," he chuckled, kissing the top of her head as she drifted off to sleep.