Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction.

Antoine De Saint-Exupery

He watched her as she stripped out of the slim black skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor. She gave no sign that she felt his eyes upon her, although, he knew she must. She always did.

Saying nothing, he loosened his tie while she unbuttoned her burgundy silk blouse. As she eased it from her shoulders, she raised her eyes to his and smiled.

"There's that voyeur thing again," she teased, tossing the blouse into the clothes hamper. She laughed and shook her head, "I cannot believe that you got my mother drunk tonight."

"It wasn't my fault!" Rossi playfully protested, pulling off his tie and tossing it onto the dresser. "Your father kept refilling her glass at dinner."

'Yes, but you ordered the second bottle of Chianti," she reminded, then winced, "And what's really scary is that my parents are probably doing it in my guest bedroom."

He laughed, as she shivered at the thought, "Sweetheart, they may be your parents, but they're human."

"No, they aren't supposed to be doing it. Well, at least not in my guest bedroom," she shook her head. "Ew…."

"And just how do you think you got here?"

"Stop," she protested, with a laugh. "I'm not going to listen to this. I bet they never did this at my brother's house."

"Probably not, your brother's wife is the most uptight woman I've ever met, she'd probably have a stroke if your parents were one third as relaxed and informal as they are around us," he went on, as she winced again, clearly still visualizing her parents. Reaching out, he took her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Stop thinking about it," he said, kissing her softly.

"I'm trying."

"I know how to get your mind off of your parents' sex life," he said, with a wink, releasing her and walking to the dresser. "Your last birthday present."

"David," she warned, trying to look stern, "You've already given me a bracelet, earrings, and that amazing leather jacket…"

"And I have one more gift for you," he countered, carrying a small box in his hand. "You know how this works; I like to spoil you on your birthday. Just go with it, okay?"

"You're making it impossible for me to return the favor on your birthday…"

He smiled at the memory of his last birthday. She'd taken him out to Little Creek for the weekend and spent the entire weekend treating him like a king. He fought her at first, but once she insisted, he sat back and let her spoil him. It was a fun, relaxing weekend and one of his best birthdays.

"I don't know," he said, "A replay of last year might not be a bad way to return the favor."

She laughed, "You liked being spoiled rotten, huh?"

"Yeah, for the weekend, it wasn't too bad," he allowed, then remembering the box in his hand, returned to the task at hand. "Nice diversion, Ms. DeVitto," he said, holding up the present. "Did you think you could distract me and keep me from giving you your last present?"

"Can't fault a girl for trying," she shrugged with an impish grin. "So, what's in the box, Mr. G-man?"

"Something you're either going to love or throw at me," he honestly said, opening the small box to reveal the wildly sparkling diamond ring he'd picked up at the jewelers Friday afternoon.

Julie gasped, surprise registering instantly on her features. He hadn't lied to Pete this afternoon, he had asked her to marry him, more than a few times, but this was the first time he went as far as purchasing a diamond first. He knew the act would shock her and he was not disappointed by her reaction.

"David…"

"Julie, I know you said you don't want to marry me…" he began, focusing on his premeditated line of attack. "And your reasoning made complete sense. I can understand your reluctance."

"David…"

He shook his head, causing her to stop speaking. "I nearly lost you this spring. It made me stop and think. You said that we already live with all of the trappings of a marriage, so you don't think we need to make it formal. For the most part, I agree with you. But there's this part of me that still can't let go of my upbringing. I was taught that when you met the right woman, you married her."

He studied her face for a moment, looking for something encouraging and found it, a softening in her eyes that was subtle. He kept speaking. "I know, what you're thinking. I've already tried that out a couple of times and it didn't work. After the last time, I promised myself I would never let myself get so involved with a woman that I would even think of marriage. And, until I met you, I pretty much stuck to that promise."

"Leave it to me to screw up your life, huh?" she asked, with a wry smile.

He smiled at this, "You do have this way of changing my plans."

"Sorry," she returned, in kind.

"Look, Julie, I'm not saying we've got to go out tomorrow and have some huge crazy wedding, I just want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Can I speak now?" she asked, her tone light.

He nodded.

"I don't know about you, but I've just always assumed that we're going to spend the rest of our lives together. I mean, we've been to hell and back a couple of times, I'm not sure I'd want to start over with someone else, even if I could find someone who's half as good for me as you are."

He allowed a smile, but didn't speak; he could tell she wasn't done.

"Neither of us has done the marriage thing right," she began, and he could tell she was putting great thought behind her words. "We both screwed it up before…hell, we've got four marriages between us. And out of those four, at least once, we've both sworn that we had the right person and that the marriage would work…and then, it fell apart."

"Julie, I've never had a relationship like ours," he offered.

"I know. I feel the same way. This relationship is different, always has been," she softly returned, then, "Let me see that ring…"

He held out the box, watching as she took it from his hand and studied the ring. He'd spent hours in the jewelers, dismissing many rings before settling on this one. Something about the fiery sparkle on the nearly 3 carat cushion cut diamond caught his eye early on. What took hours was finding the proper setting. He'd finally settled on a platinum band with channel set diamonds. It just looked like something that she would pick.

"Damn," she smiled, looking up at him, "That's one hell of a rock."

He smiled, "You like it?"

"What's not to like? It's big; it's sparkly…yet tasteful and not too gaudy. You done good, Mr. G-man."

"So, are you going to wear it?"

She looked at him, "You really want to do this? You're sure?"

"I wouldn't have asked you if I wasn't," he simply said, wondering if this time, she really would say yes.

"What if things change?"

"What's going to change?" he countered.

"My last name? You're not the only one who has an old fashioned streak."

"Okay, so, besides your last name, does anything have to change?"

"Will you wear a ring?" she asked, almost as if challenging him.

"If you want me to, yes, I will," he nodded.

"Do we have to have a real wedding? You know, with a church and candles and a poufy white dress?"

"We've both done that before," he honestly said, "I don't feel the need to do it again, but if that's what you want…"

"Oh, God, no," she winced. "I don't ever want to go through that again."

"You're seriously considering this, aren't you?"

She gave him a sloe smile, "Yeah, I am…"

"What changed your mind?"

"You, the way you've been since the spring. I don't think anyone has ever cared for me like you do," she softly said.

"So, you're actually going to say yes this time?"

She looked down at the ring and back up at him. "I'm going to ask you one more time. Are you absolutely sure that you want to do this?"

"I am," he said, in a tone reserved only for the most serious of discussions.

"We'll take this slow, okay?"

Catching his reflection in the mirror, Rossi discovered he was grinning like an idiot, but at that moment, he didn't care. Not one bit. Julie was the one person who'd seen him drop his guard, she'd seen him with this grin once or twice before and if any occasion deserved it, this was the one.

"Sweetheart, you can call the shots on this one," he returned.

"Okay," she nodded, then, with a true smile, "Ask me…really ask me, so that I can properly answer."

He thought for a moment, debating whether he should pull the whole "going down on one knee" thing. He'd done that once before, to wife number two, in a wildly spontaneous moment on a crushed stone walk way that left his knees cut and sore. True, this time he'd be kneeling on a hard wood floor, but he still wasn't totally on board with the idea.

"David?" she prompted, brows furrowed, "Changing your mind?"

He laughed, "You want to know the truth?"

"Always," she prompted.

"I was debating whether or not to go down on one knee."

She laughed, "Cute idea, but totally unnecessary. Just ask me…"

He took the box from her, removed the ring, and then set the box on the dresser. Taking both of her hands in his he looked her in the eyes and said, "Juliana, will you marry me?"

Julie smiled, then in a tone nearly as serious as his responded, "Yes, David, I will marry you."

"I never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth," he laughed, pulling her into his arms.

"I never did, either," she laughed with him, "You didn't play fair this time…you brought out the big guns…the big sparkly guns."

"Oh, yeah, that. Give me your hand." He pulled back and took her hand, slipping the ring on.

"I should go tell my parents," she said, "I know this would thrill the hell out of them. Or do they already know?"

"I'll admit, Pete did ask me when I was going to marry you," he said, recalling their earlier conversation. "But, I didn't tell him about this. I didn't want to get his hopes up."

"If I had said no, what would you have done with the ring?"

He shrugged, "I hadn't thought about it. I guess I figured this time you'd say yes."

She narrowed her eyes and in mock anger said, "You were profiling me again, weren't you?"

Rossi laughed, "Of course. Never go into a hostile situation without profiling your opponent."

"A hostile situation?" she laughed with him. "I'm an opponent?"

"Not any more," he laughed, kissing her deeply. "Not any more."

"Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of joy must have somebody to divide it with."

Mark Twain

At some point in his life, David Rossi became a slave to coffee. He couldn't define the exact moment that he gave over his ability to function clearly to the hot, black liquid, but he remembered that he did so willingly at some point in his youth. Back then, it was cool to drink coffee, subversive, even. Now, it was a necessity, an addiction that was legal, but an addiction all the same. Unlike a junkie, however, he could score his fix at countless coffee shops and vending machines.

This morning, and every morning that he woke up in Julie's house, his fix was provided by the automatic Krupp's coffee maker, possibly his favorite item in her gadget filled kitchen. As he stood to pour himself his second cup of the day, he heard the sound of footsteps entering the room. Before he could turn, Pete DeVitto's baritone voice greeted him.

"And this is why we stay here instead of some over priced hotel," he said, with a grin. "Got an extra mug for me?"

"Got plenty," Rossi returned, reaching into the cabinet and retrieving a mug. He filled it full, then turned and handed it to Julie's father. He remembered, from past mornings, that Pete liked his coffee black as well.

"Thank you," Pete nodded, taking the mug and taking a long drink. "Red wine hurts the head."

Rossi smiled, "Poor Marie must be feeling it this morning, aye?"

"Poor Marie isn't even awake yet," Pete returned with a snort. "She was…something else last night, wasn't she?"

"She was having fun," Rossi allowed, filling his own mug.

"She rarely does that," Pete allowed, sitting at the table, "Get sauced I mean, not having fun."

"Sounds like someone I know," Rossi agreed, sitting across from him.

"My daughter is a much different drunk than her mother," Pete knowingly said. "In the fifty years I've known her, Marie has never once instigated a barroom brawl."

Rossi laughed, "Ah, but has she walked through a screen door?"

Pete nearly choked on his mouthful of coffee, "That sounds like something Julie would do sober."

"She was pretty far from sober when it happened," he laughed at the memory, "If I remember correctly, she'd been drinking some very good tequila."

Pete winced, "Tequila. Damn, that stuff is nasty."

"Yeah, she'd probably agree with you now. I think it took her two days to get over that one."

"Someday, when the girls aren't around, I'll tell you the story about the last time I drank tequila."

"That good huh?"

Pete nodded.

"Speaking of next time the girls aren't around," Rossi began, "First duck hunting starts October 9th."

The older man smiled, "I've been waiting for you to ask."

"Can you get the time off?"

"Already put in for it, just in case. You gonna be okay?"

"I put in, too," he admitted. "Unless we catch a case at the last minute, I should be good."

"Well, if you catch something, tell me, I can go into work, it's not a problem," he drained the rest of his mug and stood, "Want another?"

"What I want," Rossi said, standing up, "Is something to eat."

"Breakfast does sound good," Pete agreed. "If I wait for Marie, it'll be lunch."

"If we fry up some bacon, Julie will appear. Works like magic."

Pete laughed, "You know her like the back of your hand, don't you?"

Rossi shook his head, "I know her as well as she wants me to, she's a woman. Me, on the other hand? She knows me like the back of her hand."

"Well said. I gotta admit, When she first told me about you, I never thought you two would last."

Rossi laughed, "Yeah, it surprised me, too." He stopped, debating whether or not to tell Pete about last night. He knew Julie wanted to tell her parents, but he felt a certain kinship to the man and wanted to share the news.

"What's that look for, Dave?" Pete asked. "There something you need to tell me? Everything okay with you guys?"

"Yeah, Pete, everything's good. Real good."

Pete smiled, "You son of a bitch, you got her to say yes, didn't you?"

"She wanted to be the one to tell you," he admitted, watching as the smile on Pete's face grew.

"So, how'd you do it? Or do I not want to know the details?"

"This time, I actually bought a ring and showed it to her before I asked."

"That must've been one hell of a rock."

"It's not bad," he allowed.

"Well, damn, let me be the first to congratulate you," he held out his hand.

Rossi took it and shook it. "Thanks, Pete."

"Ah, the hell with it, we're family," he returned, pulling him into a hug.

Rossi returned the hug, patting the man on the back.

"Oh, God," Julie's voice began, causing them to separate and turn to face her. "Two Italian men hugging in my kitchen. This either means that you've just planned a hit on a member of the Gambino family or Daddy passed on Nona DeVitto's secret meatball recipe."

"Ah," Pete laughed, "There's my little wise ass now."

"Very funny, Daddy," she smartly returned, walking into the kitchen. "So, what did I miss in the male bonding department?"

"When you become a male, we'll tell you," Pete continued in kind.

"Okay, be that way," she said, sticking her tongue out at him and thumbing her nose with her left hand.

"And just what the hell is that?" Pete asked, grabbing her hand and examining the newly placed diamond ring. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Well, if you think it's an engagement ring, you're right," she countered, winking at Rossi.

"So, you finally gave in, did you?"

"Yeah," she said, blushing, "I figured I could only say no so many times before he gave up."

"Like that would happen," Rossi finally chimed in, slipping an arm around her. "You should know by know that when I want something, I don't usually give up until I get it."

"So, what do you think, Daddy?"

"I think it's about damn time," Pete said, hugging his daughter. "Are you happy, Little Girl?"

"I've been happy, Daddy," she seriously said, "This is just the icing on the cake."

Pete held up her hand and studied the ring, "That's some icing. Nice going, Dave."

"Thank you," Rossi laughed.

Marie DeVitto's voice brought their attention to the doorway to the kitchen, "Oh dear God, is that a diamond?"

They turned to find the petite brunette standing there, wrapped in a chenille bathrobe, her eyes wide with surprise.

"And one hell of a diamond it is," Pete laughed, "Come see this, Marie."

"Juliana Maria Angelica DeVitto," Marie sternly said, hands on her hips, "Do you mean to tell me you told your father about this before you told me?"

"He saw the ring, Mom," she protested.

Marie fixed Rossi with a glare, "And you let this go on?"

"I'm sorry, Marie," he laughed, "It was like stopping a speeding freight train."

"Let me see," she said, holding out her hand.

Julie walked over and placed her hand in her mother's, allowing the smaller woman to lift her hand and study the diamond ring. Marie's stern look was replaced with a smile. "This is beautiful," she said, her voice full of emotion. She looked up at her daughter.

"Mom, don't cry, please? You're gonna make me cry…" Julie said.

"I'm sorry," Marie replied, "It's just that I never thought I'd see this day…my little girl is getting married."

"Mom, I've already done this once…"

"Yeah, but this time it's to a guy we actually like," Pete dryly laughed.

"That's enough out of you Pietro," Marie returned, her stern look reappearing for a moment, then fading quickly. "Give me a hug, Julie."

"Mom," Julie laughed, hugging her mother.

They separated and Marie looked at Rossi, "Now, your turn…"

"My pleasure," he said, with a smile, hugging her.

"I would say welcome to the family, but you're already part of it," she sincerely said, as they separated.

"Thank you, Marie; you've both always made me feel as if I were part of the family. I have always appreciated it."

"That's cuz you fit right in with the whole motley crew," Julie laughed.

"Okay, so, we have a wedding to plan," Marie began, looking at her daughter. "You are having a wedding, aren't you?"

"Mom, we've already discussed this," Julie returned, "I'm not putting on some poufy white dress and playing Queen for a Day. I've already done that."

"What about Dave?" Marie said, turning to look at him, "Did you think that maybe he'd like to have a wedding."

"Marie," Pete said, putting an arm around his wife's shoulder, "The man's done it a couple of times already. I'm sure the thought of putting on a monkey suit and dodging rice has gotten a little old. No offense, Dave."

"None taken," Rossi returned. He turned to Marie and in the gentle voice he usually reserved for victim's families, he said, "Marie, Julie and I have discussed it and she would rather not have a big ceremony." Sensing her protest, he continued, "We haven't figured it all out yet, but rest assured, whatever we decide, you and Pete will be there. I wouldn't dream of keeping that from you."

Marie smiled, satisfied by his response, "You," she said, patting his cheek, "Are quickly becoming my favorite." She turned and fixed both Pete and Julie with a glare, "The two of you? Well…you've got a lot to learn from this one."

"Kiss ass," Julie teased.

"Come on, Dave," Marie said, "Let's make some breakfast."

Casting Julie a helpless look, he allowed Marie to lead him to the refrigerator.

"Damn," Pete laughed, "You trained that one good."

"Daddy, he reads people for a living, Mom's putty in his hands," she returned, with a wry grin.

"I don't know about that, Little Girl. In the long run, I think my money's on your mother."