This is supposed to be in the style of a real episode... I'll let you judge how well that went. Also, I started this quite a while ago, and it took me so long (I got stuck) that there are now a couple of fics with this plot point. As I'd already put so much effort into it I decided to finish and post anyway, so here it is.
Miranda sits on the sofa in her living room, tiny mug of tea in hand. She addresses the audience cheerfully. "Hello everyone! Now do be quiet, sit down, sit down. You, hovering in the doorway, find a chair. Unless you like hovering in doorways. Maybe you used to be homeless and spent all your time in doorways, in which case I am sorry and I hope things are better for you now. Right, previously in my life, the lovely Gary and I played hide-and-seek in IKEA."
-: A woman opens the door of a wardrobe in an IKEA store, only to scream when she finds that Miranda is inside it. Miranda looks around furtively, before pulling the door closed again. :-
"If you've never tried it, you must, and don't try and tell me you've never wanted to. I rather like hiding in wardrobes, it makes me think of Narnia." She chuckles. "Also, me, Stevie, Tilly, Gary, Clive and his boyfriend Daniel glitzed it up and re-enacted Strictly Come Dancing." She nods smugly at the audience.
-: Miranda and Gary sit behind the counter in the shop, cheering on Stevie and Tilly trying to do a jive on the shop floor, now all made up as a dance hall. /
Miranda and Gary stand next to Tilly, who wears a Bruce Forsyth mask. They look up at Stevie, Clive and Daniel - a dark-haired, smiling man wearing a suit jacket - who all hold up '10' paddles. :-
"Such fun. And Gary made me a triple chocolate fudge cake for our one year anniversary. Oh, he knows me so well. Isn't he lovely? Yes…" She stares off into space for a moment, before rousing herself with a jerk. "Anyway, on with the show!
Miranda and Gary sit either side of the bar. Miranda is tucking in to a bowl of ice cream while Gary writes something on a piece of paper.
"Gary, do you want to get married?"
Gary looks up at her in alarm, and Miranda's expression becomes horrified.
She starts babbling in panic. "Not to me! I didn't mean to me! I mean, it could be me. But it doesn't have to be me. I mean, I wouldn't - Just - at all?"
Gary considers her for a moment, tipping his head to one side before he answers. "Well, maybe one day. It'd have to be the right woman, of course."
"Of course."
"I couldn't stay in a relationship with someone who wasn't right for me. I'm sure you've had to break lots of men's hearts."
"Oh, hundreds." Miranda turns to the camera to say: "Well, Mike. But that's best left forgotten."
"It's hard, isn't it? But you have to do it, or you'll both be really unhappy in a relationship that doesn't suit you."
"Yes, of course, I know all about that." Miranda glances at the camera, shaking her head slightly and looking lost.
Gary glances down at his hands, looking nervous. "Um, Miranda, I need to talk to you about something. I, um -"
"Ooh, can I stop you there, Gary, I need to get back to the shop and help Stevie with, er, a thing."
"Oh, sure," Gary replies as Miranda stands up and walks straight into the waiter carrying a tray of biscuits. Both of them end up on the floor in a tangle, with biscuits flying everywhere.
Gary tries to stifle his laughter as she gets up and attempts to sweep out with dignity.
Clive walks over to Gary giving him a distinctly unimpressed look. "That was rubbish."
"I panicked!" Gary exclaims, throwing up his hands. "I could hardly tell her the truth, could I? It'd spoil the surprise."
Miranda gallops into the shop where Stevie is stacking boxes labelled "Whoopie cushions" behind the counter. "Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, Stevie -"
"I'm very busy! We've had the new stock delivered this morning and I don't know where we're going to put it all. Didn't I tell you that three boxes of poo-scented exploding candles was too much?"
"But Stevie, I think Gary's going to break up with me," Miranda whines.
Stevie gasps and stares at her in horror, mouth open. "Why? What have you done?"
Miranda thinks about that. "I think I just asked him to marry me."
"What?"
"By accident! I was just asking if he ever wanted to. Anyway, it's not what I've done. He said he needs to talk to me. What do I do?"
"Well I don't know."
"But what do I do?"
"I don't know!"
"What do I do?"
"You'll just have to put him off," Stevie says. "Yeah, if he tries to talk to you, just change the subject. Don't let him do it."
"But that's awful, what if he sneaks in when I'm not expecting it?"
The shop door opens. "Miranda?" It is Gary.
The two women turn to him in unison, looking like two deer in the headlights.
"Look, I know you're busy but I really need to ask you something."
"Oh but -"
"It'll only take a second, I promise." Gary has to raise his voice to be heard over Miranda's repeated "No no no!"
"I just wanted to ask if you want to come on holiday this weekend!"
Miranda stops shouting and looks relieved. "Ohh, is that all? Oh, but Gary you know I can't do holidays," she says, and gets more and more agitated as she continues. "Last time I went to the beach I went for a swim in the sea, nearly drowned, got out with my hair in my face, ran away from what I thought was a jellyfish, turned out to be a plastic bag, and it wasn't until I was halfway up the beach that I realised my bikini bottoms were still in the sea. It's a good job that seagull wasn't any smaller or it wouldn't have been able to fly."
Gary tries not to dwell on that strange mental image. "I was thinking more of Paris." He looks at Miranda hopefully.
Miranda turns to look at the camera, grinning excitedly and flapping her hands. "He wants to take me to Paris!" She turns back to Gary. "I'd love to."
Gary grins and pulls her into a hug, kissing her quickly on the lips as he lets go. "Brilliant. Meet me at the restaurant at 10 on Friday, alright?"
"Brillo," Miranda agrees.
Gary kisses her once more and leaves the shop, the bell ringing as the door closes.
"Paris! Stevie, he's taking me to Paris!" she squeals, jumping up and down gleefully.
Stevie laughs with excitement. "Now you won't get too silly, will you, Miranda? I know what you're like about going abroad."
"Of course not! I shall be elegance and decorum itself."
Miranda bounds into the restaurant cheerfully. She is wearing a blue-and-white striped jumper and a black beret, and there is a string of onions around her neck. She carries a large hold-all in one hand and a rucksack on her back.
Gary comes out of the kitchen, takes one look at her and bursts out laughing.
"What?" Miranda asks indignantly.
"You do know you're not actually French?"
"Of course," Miranda replies, trying to keep her cool. "But when in Rome..."
"What?"
"The mice will...play?" she finishes uncertainly, narrowing her eyes.
Gary chuckles. "You know, we've been together for over a year, and you never stop surprising me."
"Is that a good thing?"
"Definitely." They smile at each other. "Now come on, let's go." He picks up a bag from behind the counter and takes Miranda's hand, and together they leave the restaurant.
Knowing Miranda's dislike of aeroplanes (largely developed from the time when she had needed the toilet and had to climb over her sleeping neighbour, only to have him wake up when she was mid-mount), Gary takes her to Paris on the train. Despite Miranda's certainty that the train would crash and the tunnel would collapse around their ears, the journey is mostly uneventful. Miranda's only issue is with the youths, who she complains about to Gary when they reach their station and leave the train.
"Don't they know it's a quiet carriage? They're not supposed to play loud music, I tell you, if I'd had my scissors I would have snipped the wire to their speakers. It's so rude. Playing their youth music so everyone has to listen and the conductor didn't even -"
"Miranda," Gary interrupts.
"What?!" she replies, a little snappishly.
"I love you."
Miranda deflates. "Really?"
"Yes. More than anything. You know that."
"I love you too," she responds, smiling joyfully. "Now, shall we get going?"
Gary attempts a French accent, holding out his hand. "Can I show you to your 'otel, madame?"
"Certainly, sir." Miranda decides not to offend the French with her awful accent before even reaching the open air, but takes Gary's hand.
When they get to the hotel, Miranda goes for a shower before lunch. There are lights around the mirror, like a film star's dressing room. The splashing water muffles the sound, but she is sure she hears Gary's voice, high and pleading. She can't hear that what he is saying is, "I'll give it to you when I arrive, and then can you put the words on a flag in the pudding?"
Wrapping herself in a soft white towel (much better than the Hamilton Lodge, thank you so please to you), Miranda steps out of the en suite.
"Were you talking to someone?" she asks absently as she rummages through her suitcase for a pair of underwear. She leaves it on the table as she sits down to brush her hair. She catches sight of Gary in the mirror.
Unexpectedly, he is blushing. "Um, just mum, I thought I'd let her know we've arrived."
Miranda wonders why he looks so flustered, but is distracted when he says, "Come on slowcoach, we'll never get our lunch at this rate."
She sticks her tongue out at him and in response he jabs her in the ribs from behind, making her squeal.
"Now now, this is a smart hotel, we can't have screaming," he chastises her mock-sternly, laughter dancing in his eyes and pulling at the corners of his lips.
"You're a devil," Miranda tells him as she stands up.
Knowing her well, Gary takes half a step back in case of retaliation, but Miranda is too busy getting ready. He loves that, although she turns her back to him, she is comfortable enough to change clothes while he is there. She did not want to in the beginning, but after a while, when it seemed he had kissed every inch of her a dozen times, it seemed pointless to hide away. When Miranda has pulled her black beaded top over her head he slips his arms around her waist and kisses the back of her neck.
Miranda relaxes into his hold as she always does. "You might not want to start doing that if you're in a hurry."
He smiles against her skin. "Okay."
Miranda turns in his arms and takes a moment to kiss him before sitting down at the table to do her make-up. She has never been a big make-up wearer, but sometimes it was nice to doll herself up. Even nicer when she could see Gary in the mirror changing into a smart shirt and trousers. "You're looking very dapper there, sir," she tells him playfully.
"Thank you, my lady," he responds, bowing.
"I'm ready," she adds. "Let's go."
They leave the room hand-in-hand and Gary tells her the restaurant is close enough to walk to, so they set off down a sunny Paris street. All the buildings seem to be extra tall.
As they approach a small square, the sounds of music float through the air. They enter the square to see an impromptu performance by three musicians, with a small crowd gathered around them.
Gary turns to Miranda with excitement. "Hey, shall we dance?"
"But Gary, you know I'm rubbish at dancing," Miranda complains, not wanting to embarrass herself yet again.
"Don't worry, I'll tell you what to do. Come on. Put your hands on my shoulders." Gary puts his hands on her hips, and Miranda puts hers on Gary's shoulders (any excuse). "Ready?" Gary asks.
"No."
Gary smiles fondly. "Right foot back - no, that's your left - okay now put your left foot out to the side."
Miranda sticks her foot up in the air, nearly overbalancing.
Gary stifles a laugh as he helps Miranda steady herself. "You can put your foot down, that's it. Now slide it next to your right foot. And spin..." He spins Miranda out and then into his arms again, while Miranda tries not to trip over her own feet. "...and kiss."
Miranda presses a chaste kiss to his lips, grinning.
The restaurant is very posh. Miranda thinks her mother would like it a lot. Gary takes the waiter aside for a moment before they sit down. They eat ham and cheese crepes, folded into quarters and steaming slightly. Miranda's not sure she can manage a pudding but Gary persuades her otherwise.
"This place apparently does this amazing chocolate zabaglione mousse. We can't not try it."
He orders the mousse with a scoop of ice cream and as the waiter walks away Gary stares down at the table, biting his lip. Miranda can't see his face properly but it looks as though he is grinning.
"What are you smiling at?"
"Just happy," he replies. "This is brilliant. You're brilliant."
Miranda blushes. "I'm not that brilliant."
"Well I think you're very brilliant, so there."
She shakes her head at her wonderful boyfriend fondly. "I'll be back in a second, going to powder my nose as it were."
Gary's eyes widen. "Miranda wait -"
As she jumps up, Miranda collides with the waiter, and an entire plate of four chocolatey layers of syrup, icing, cake and biscuit flies through the air and lands smack on the waiter's head. Miranda stares in horror.
Gary claps a hand to his mouth to hold in the laughter. "Um, can we have the bill," he manages to ask, his voice shaking.
Miranda apologises profusely, not daring to look at Gary because she knows they will both explode with laughter. Of course, when they leave the restaurant they have barely taken a step before they both collapse.
"Did you see his face!"
"I thought he was going to murder me!"
They stagger along the pavement until their laughter subsides and they can walk more normally. "Shall we go for a walk at the beach?" Gary suggests.
"But we're nowhere near the sea."
"No, I know, but they set up a beach on the banks of the Seine."
"In that case, that is an excellent idea. As long as I don't get sand on my best top."
Gary stares at something in a bookshop window as they pass, but all Miranda can see is a few book titles that say things like The End of the Night, Message in a Bottle and The Purple Seahorse. Gary hurries her along but a few streets later he asks her to wait a moment. She watches him talking to a group of teenagers. It looks as though he gives something to one of them but she can't be sure.
"What are you up to?"
"I just thought it was someone I know," he replies, but he is blushing again. He takes her hand and they set off again, Miranda wondering why he is acting so strangely.
"That pudding was a bit of a disaster," he says forlornly.
"Don't worry, I'll buy you some macaroons later," Miranda promises.
"That wasn't really the point," he mutters.
"Oh, beach!" Miranda points. It looks very strange; there is a long strip of sand, then a tarmac area like a promenade dropping to the river itself. They walk along the promenade, close to the sand.
Gary nudges Miranda gently. "Hey, what's that?" he asks softly.
Miranda looks where he is pointing and sees a bottle half-covered by the sand. "Just an old bottle."
"Go and have a look."
"Gary, it's just a piece of rubbish."
"Go on!" he insists, laughing.
Giving him a "you're acting very strangely" look, Miranda picks up the bottle, oblivious to the pounding of Gary's heart.
"WASP!" she yells as a yellow-and-black striped body exits the neck of the bottle and flies into her face, and she instinctively throws up her arms, the bottle sailing through the air. Gary is reminded of a certain piece of chocolate dessert as the bottle soars over the barrier and falls down, down, and lands with a glunk in the Seine below.
Miranda stares at the river sheepishly. "Oops."
Gary shakes his head, smiling. "Life's never dull with you around, is it?"
The following day, they leave the hotel for another walk. They had decided that the holiday would be a relaxed one, with no particular pressure to go do tourist-y things. Just wandering through the streets, munching on macaroons and bumping into each other gently as they went was enough.
"So what's been the best bit about the last year?" Miranda asks as they meander around a busy public garden, full of green trees, colourful flowers and tall water features.
"Well, I got this great girlfriend. Her favourite thing is throwing desserts over people," he teases.
"Cheeky!"
"What's your favourite thing?"
"I got a lot more cakes than usual."
He shoves her playfully. "Is that all?"
"No, Clive got a gorgeous boyfriend."
"And?"
"This weirdo asked me out."
"Oi! I'll get you for that!" He starts tickling her, getting her right in the ticklish spot under her ribs. Miranda yelps and backs away, and when he follows her she tries to run but ends up falling backwards into a fountain with a SPLASH. She sits up in the shallow water and notices that everyone in a 20-metre radius is watching her.
"I-I meant to do that. I was just testing the, uh, barriers. Not very safe, dontchaknow."
Once again trying not to laugh, Gary holds out a hand to his hapless and beautiful girlfriend. Miranda grabs his wrist and as she gets to her feet he is overcome with the fact that this amazing woman has chosen him to share her days with, and as she reaches her full height he just says, "Marry me?"
Miranda is so surprised she loses her grip on him and promptly falls back into the fountain, but this time she is laughing and so is he. Dripping wet, she climbs out without his help and says, "Do you mean that?"
"Miranda, you light up my life and you are wonderful. I love you. Will you marry me?" He fumbles getting the ring out of his pocket, nearly dropping it, but manages to get the box open to show her the diamond ring.
Miranda grins, glowing with happiness. "Of course I will, you nut," she says affectionately. She watches him slip the ring onto her finger. "Just for the record, is this why you've been acting so strangely?"
"Yes! First that pudding, it had the ring on it and 'will you marry me' on one of those little flags. But when that ended up on the waiter I had to get the ring back and I got those kids to leave you a message in a bottle. I wanted this to be funny and sweet and a little bit weird, just like you, but everything just kept going wrong."
"Just like me?"
"Your words, not mine!" They smiled at each other. "I love you, Miranda."
"I love you too, Gary."