Disclaimer: Yes. Ha! No, I'm lying! Mwa hahaha!

A/N: This is dedicated to another amazing author here on fanfiction, who inspired me and helped me out greatly when it came to my writing. She listened to me moan and whine, and taught me a most valuable lesson in my writing; to listen to my heart and my instincts. To trust in my writing. I'll never be able to thank her enough for teaching me to believe in myself, and in my writing. This one is for you, sallydeathhands!

Enjoy!

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Ranger

One year.

On year full of love, hope, happiness, ecstasy…with only the briefest interludes of pain in between. It was like a little slice of heaven, and for some odd reason, I was allowed to have it.

I'm not the kind of man to believe in things that seem too good to be true. And yet here I stand, because not once in 365 days, have I doubted the thing in my life that was the epitome of too good to be true. Because when could I ever doubt my babe?

The past year with Stephanie has been nothing short of spectacular. We argued, sure, but we kept to our promise, always making up before the day ended. I remember everyone warning me at the start of this relationship to give her space, and to take some space to myself; we'd get sick of each other, they said. We'd get sick of sharing the same environment, they said. To this day, I'm still not entirely sure the reason why we do our separate things at least twice a week, because every second that she isn't with me feels like an eternity in hell. As it is, it's hard enough during the work day, when we're so busy that even our adjoining offices don't allow us to see each other too often. Add a girls' night out for her, a guys' night for me, and that's already too much time that we could be spending together. Not to mention the fact that we've decided Saturdays to be our family day. We'd have brunch with Stephanie's parents, and sometimes her grandmother and Val and her family, then we'd head over to my parents for supper. I've been pushing to make it every second Saturday, since I would love a full Saturday with just me and my babe, but it was quickly vetoed by both parties; the Plums were loath to miss out on a day with their daughter, and Frank has actually come to look forward to our in-depth gun and car discussions. My parents reacted the same, both of them subtly guilt-tripping us by mentioning how much they adored our company. In their defense though, I actually think they were starting to love Babe more than me. Who could blame them? In any event, I still couldn't fathom ever getting enough of my Babe.

Which is why I was feeling so antsy and eager. Jesus, I felt like a kid ready too early for his high school prom, not wanting to pick up the head cheerleader before the time they had agreed upon. I fought against the urge to fidget with my tux. I started to reach towards my collar before I remembered that I was going sans neck-tie. Steph had once commented on seeing me in a suit with my collar open…and that comment had led to an extremely fun, if not highly…active, night. So in the spirit of jumping Babe's bones, I left the collar of my white shirt partially open. Which left me with just that much less to fidget with.

"Calm the hell down, hermano," Lester snorted from my couch. Babe and her friend were at Rangeman, on seven, getting ready for our anniversary date tonight. I wanted her to use the batcave, but she insisted that she didn't want everyone else knowing it's location, so I was waiting here until it was time to fetch her. Lester, the ass hat, had dropped by for no apparent reason and made himself right at home. Annoyed, I aimed one of Babe's slippers at him. I smirked with satisfaction, feeling better after the dull thud and subsequent "What the hell, dude?!"

"Why are you in my house again?" I asked, dead-panned.

"I'm here to ask you whether you're going to propose to Stephanie," he replied casually, smirking at me when I turned sharply towards him in surprise.

"How did you know?" I asked suspiciously, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Carlos, man," he smiled a little sadly and somewhere in my mind I registered that it was my cousin talking, my little brother, and not my employee and back-up. "We've been brothers since we were kids. I looked up to you, man, tried to be like you when we were kids. What makes you think I don't know you better than that?"

It had been a long time since we spoke like this, and I hadn't realized how much I missed it until I realized that I wanted to continue this conversation.

"It's time, man," I shrugged, locking my eyes with his. "I love her."

"I know," he replied, swinging his legs off the couch and standing up. "I've known a long time. And I'm glad you're finally doing it, don't get me wrong. Just…" he stopped for a second, looking hesitant.

"What?" I prompted.

"Man, at the risk of sounding like a woman," he half smirked, "were you ever going to tell me?"

I softened slightly at the hurt look in his eyes. "Of course I was, man. I wanted her to say yes first."

"No, I know…" he trailed off, looking sheepish now. "I guess I just kind of thought I'd be the first one you'd tell."

I chuckled; it was years since I last saw this kid. The one who used to follow my girl-advice like I was Hugh Heffner. The one who used to copy my walk when we were at family gatherings. The one who puffed his chest out and told schoolyard bullies that his brother could kick their brother's asses. And yes, I remembered all those stuff. The four year difference between us used to be a lot more glaring until Lester learned to fight, and pick up chicks.

"Man, look at the ring," I told him, handing him the velvet box from my pocket. He shot me a puzzled look, then started laughing when he saw it.

"Man, is this the same ring I told you Stephanie would love when we both got drunk off our asses for Christmas?" he laughed in disbelief.

"The very same," I grinned. A few years back, after Christmas at my parents', Lester had gotten drunk enough to crash at my place. He'd decided, in his inebriated state, that watching infomercials would be a productive use of his time, and he'd yelled repeatedly at me when he saw an ad on TV for a jewelry store. Not one to let things go once he was too shit-faced to care, he went on to their site online and proceeded to recommend I buy each and every item for Steph.

When he'd stumbled upon the ring, he'd stopped his drunken monologue long enough for the beauty of it to impress itself on him.

"This is the one, Carlos," he'd murmured. "This is the ring you gotta propose to Steph with."

And I could see why. It was a vintage style ring, a band of white gold that had the infinity symbol on it, with sapphires and diamonds dotting a pattern around the symbol. Inside the band, was a plain space that could be engraved upon, if desired.

So I had engraved it with our initials, written in the space between the interlinked W's of the Wonder Woman insignia.

"I thought about calling you to get the ring with me," I offered matter-of-factly. "Wasn't sure you'd have wanted to."

"Thanks, Carlos," he replied quietly. "It means a lot that you wanted me there, and went with my choice." He snorted. "No matter how drunken it was."

"It was a good choice, hermanito," I praised him, grinning when an image of a 6 year old Lester came to mind, looking just as pleased with my simple "Well done" as he looked right now.

"Of course it was a good choice. It was my choice!"

Not even his obnoxious remark could have erased that image from my mind.

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"Happy Anniversary, Carlos," she whispered, turning around. I was sucker-punched in the gut by the sight of her new tattoo, marking her permanently, and irrevocably, as mine. The possessive feelings swirled through me, and I thought I was going to combust with need for her. Before I could get too caught up in my desire, I directed her to the window. Millions of stars sparkled in the night sky, and even with it all seeming just inches away from us, still, nothing could compare to the beauty of my Babe.

"I'm flying," she murmured delightedly, as I took a step back and got down on one knee.

As she turned around, I could see the different emotions coursing through her, feeling them as though they were my own. Fear. Excitement. Hope. Love. Happiness. They all warred a battle inside me for dominance.

"Babe," I started huskily, trying to keep a handle on my emotions. "You are the love of my life. When I think of the future, I think of you. I want to spend every morning waking up to you curled around me, and I want to spend every night lost in your arms for the rest of my life. Without you, I'm nothing, I'm incomplete. You're the missing piece to the puzzle of my life, Babe. You're the answer, to everything. It was always you. It will always be you." I took her hand in mine and, feeling as though I was on the edge of a precipice, of which only her words could save me from certain death, I spoke the timeless question.

"Will you marry me?"

Tears overflowed from her scorching blue eyes as she dropped to the ground in front of me. With shaky hands, she opened the box and placed the ring in my hand, holding her left out in silent invitation. Slowly, I pushed it on to her left finger, never breaking eye contact as we made our silent promises. The ring looked like it had always belonged right there, and I was not immune to the surreal moment enveloping me.

She cupped my face with her hand, leaning her forehead to rest against my own. We were breathing hard, as though we'd run a marathon, and the desire barely veiled in my half-mast eyes were reflected directly in hers.

And so, four simply uttered words changed my life forever.

"The answer's always yes."

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