A/N: Hi Guys! :D I've just realised that I've never really specified the circumstances in which these fics take place...I haven't really thought about it myself really. Well, it's kind of post series three, but without the whole moving on thing...you know what, I don't know. Just make up your own version. :D Hope you enjoy, and for God's sake: REVIEW! REVIEW!

R E V I EW !

"It has to be perfect."

"Oh really, Mills? I was just going to pick the first thing that fell out of a Christmas cracker."

They stood, noses pressed against the jeweller's window, Millie admiring the may sparkling bands, Gene merely overwhelmed by the sheer choice. This was going to be harder than he thought. No ring stood out. They all seemed to mould into one twinkling mass. He drew back slightly.

"What's up Gene?"

"How many designs can there be? They all look the bloody same." though trying to keep his voice unaffected and jocular, Millie had known him long enough to detect when he was feeling out of his depth.

"Just take your time, love. We don't have to get one right now, do we?" he shook his head, though still looked overwhelmed. "Let's try and narrow it down, eh? What do you know about what you want to buy her."

"Not gold," he replied, "Looks tacky…mind you, I don't want to get her silver and make her think I wouldn't fork out for it…but I'm not going the whole hog and getting a diamond the size of her head…that's not Bolly."

"Well you need a middle ground, darling," Millie explained, gently, "the best of both worlds." Gene nodded. "So," continued Millie, wringing her hands together, "Not gold. One to three simple, modest stones."

"Not overly extravagant. Don't want something that looks like Tinkerbell's vomit."

"Right." said Millie, mentally taking notes. "simple design…often look the best." Unconsciously, she looked down at her left hand. Her own rings glistened there.

"Do you, Arthur Henry Stafford, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" Arthur turned to his fiancé, a broad grin stretching from ear to over-large ear. The young woman seemed to glow with happiness, the usual ruddy look of her cheeks more defined; radiant in a half flush along her jaw line.

"I do." she grinned at him, excitedly.

"And do you, Millicent Polly Jones, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do."

"Then it is my great honour and privilege, to pronounce you man and wife together. You may now kiss the bride."

"You weren't there Millie! You didn't see it! You don't understand!" He flopped down on the settee, head in hands, leaving Millie stood at the arm of the sofa, untying an apron from behind her back.

"No Arthur. I didn't see it, and how the hell am I supposed to bloody understand if you don't let me in! Let me understand! Let me help you Arthur!"

"You'd never understand," his voice sounded strained, pathetic. Anger swelled in Millie's stomach, "I had to watch as the light left men's eyes. My friends! If you'd seen what I'd seen, you'd-" she cut him off, the frustration braking the barriers she had so carefully placed with herself.

"I'd what? I'd what Arthur? Go insane? Top myself? Would it be too much for my fragile mind? That's all it boils down to with you, isn't it? You think I can't take it because I'm a woman! I want to be there for you Arthur!" she received no further answer. "Fine. FINE!" she said, her voice rising to a shriek as she threw the apron roughly to the floor, "I'm going to bed. Join me when you've stopped acting like a poof!"

Millie,

I'm sorry it had to be like this, I'm sorry I disappointed you. I'm weak Millie, weaker than you. I can't carry on like this. Doubtless, you would deal with everything ten times better than I ever could, but I'm glad you don't have to. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

No matter what you think of me, of what I've done, remember that I will always love you, forever and a day.

I'm sorry, love.

Art

x

Looking up again from the rough, tear stained note the next morning, Millie once again looked upon the dangling body of her husband, the dressing gown chord from which he was hanging attached to one of the beams in the ceiling, the same beams they had admired before buying the house. Arthur had jokingly said it gave it a 'rugged, manly sort of feel.'

Millie had moved down to London from the outskirts of Bolton not long after that. She could look at the beams no longer.

"Millie?" said Gene. It had been several seconds since her pontifications regarding the rings had died out, giving way instead to a distracted, forlorn silence. "You Ok, love?

"Me? Oh, I'm fine." said Millie, snapping easily back to her cheery attitude. Gene sensed that she was holding back something or another, but didn't feel like he should ask. "Now where was I? Oh yes, simple design…you don't want silver or gold- you're easy to please…oh, hang on. What about white gold?"

"You what?" he said.

"Look, over here." she took him by the arm, leading him over to the right display, "It's like silver in colour, but it won't look like you're a cheapskate. He studied the rings for a moment. It was an immense relief just to see one display, to have narrowed it down to a dozen rings or so.

"Yeah…yeah, that's what I'm after." in fact, they were more than what he was after, they were just right. After a short pause, he spoke again.

"That one." he jabbed at the glass with his forefinger.

"Which one?"

"Second from the left, third row down." Millie located the ring in question, her eyes widening.

"It's beautiful."

"Is it right for her?" he said, trying and failing to cover his nervousness.

"Right for her?" grinned Millie, "It's perfect, you twonk."

Grinning, Gene left Millie standing outside for a second as he asked for the ring to be put aside. Stepping back to join her, they began to walk off again back the way they'd came.

"Well, I've told him I'll be back with the cash by the end of the week."

"If you need to borr-"

"No," said, waving his hand slightly, "the Gene Genie always saves for a rainy day. Thanks for offering, love, but I couldn't take money off you."

"I'd want it back you know!" she said, tightening her lips in mock annoyance. Gene smiled, offering her his arm, which she took, gratefully. The jeweller's was, as it happened, only a few minutes worth of walk from Millie's front door, but even that small exertion had her flagging slightly. Upon reaching Millie's street, Gene came to a stop, turning to Millie.

"Thank you." he said, earnestly.

"You're more than welcome, sweetheart." smiled Millie. And he really was. Nothing had given Millie more pleasure over the last month or so than helping Gene find the perfect ring for the woman he loved. Though her exterior had aged and decayed, the teenage girl still remained, the romantic, the optimist and that undeniable thirst for life. Though her own complete happiness had died years ago with Arthur, she had found a way to partially rebuild it by doing everything in her power to ensure that Gene and Alex found what she had lost. She didn't have long left, and she wanted to spend that little time helping the man she had grown to love like a son and the woman she hoped to love like a daughter-in-law one of these days.

After entering the house, Gene kissed her on the cheek, bade her goodbye, and left.

The silence of the house roared in her ears. Flopping down onto the collapsed sofa, Millie allowed herself to drift into fantasies. Arthur was sitting beside her. Older, yes, but still the same man. He had his arm around her. They were talking, laughing.

Their grown-up son had just told them he was planning to propose.