A/N: It's short, it's pointless, and it's fluffy. Got the idea after watching Rear Window, and I just needed to let the muse get it out.
"What's this?" Stella asked as Flack used his key to get into her apartment.
He smiled at her, setting a large basket down on the kitchen counter. "Dinner."
She sighed. "Donnie, it's just a sprained ankle. I can still cook and take care of myself."
Flack shrugged. "Maybe I want takin' care of ya to be my job."
Stella wasn't quite sure what to say to that. She watched in amazement as he pulled a cloth out of the basic and set it over the table. Then he reached back in and began pulling out dishes and setting them out, lighting the candles when he was done and turning down the lights.
"Don, what is all this?" she asked again, her voice hushed.
He pulled out a chair and waited while she used her crutches to maneuver to the table. Once he had pushed her in, he took his own seat and poured them both some wine.
"Can't a guy just wanna take care of his girlfriend?"
She smiled. "I suppose. You're sure you don't have any underlying motives, though?"
He shrugged, his eyes locked on his plate. "I was hoping it would make it easier to tell you that I love you."
Her heart nearly stopped at his words. Reaching out, she rested her hand on his. "And did it?"
Flack chuckled. "No. I'm still scared to death."
"Come here," she whispered.
He got up and moved until he was beside her. Stella tugged on his hand and he went down on one knee, his blue eyes nervously meeting hers. Gently caressing his face, she smiled, leaning in until her lips tickled his ear.
"I love you back."