Plans & Propositions

"Three."

"Really?"

"Yes, three," Meg replied. Her elbow rested on the pillow and she was gazing dreamily up into warm brown eyes. "I would like two girls and one boy," she continued. "The first and last should both be girls."

Ryan raised two dark eyebrows in surprise. "Well, as long as you're not picky," he remarked sarcastically, a smirk playing about his lips.

"What about you?" she asked, watching as he lay backward onto the bed, leaving Meg's fingers to play about the mass of dark hairs on his muscled chest.

"I think that four would be perfect," he told her, his fingers stroking the long golden locks that framed her face. "Three boys and one girl. Not necessarily in that order."

Laughing, Meg met his eyes. "I should've known that you would want more boys than girls."

"Do you know how many times I wished for a brother?" he asked seriously. "You have no idea what it was like growing up in a house full of females!"

Now, Meg's face held a smirk. "I think I have some idea. But I know what you mean. I often wondered what it would be like to have a brother."

"It's settled then," Ryan said with a smile. "More boys than girls is definitely the way to go."

"Why?" Meg asked playfully, "So you have more males to teach how to sew doll clothes and sing show tunes?"

At this Ryan's jaw dropped. "Why, Miss Marguerite, you are quite the comedienne!"

Swiftly his fingers found her most ticklish sensitive spots, and after bursting into uncontrollable giggles, the blond begged for mercy. "Please, stop!" she cried, red-faced.

"Stooopp!"

"As you wish," he replied, with one eyebrow raised as he paused, suddenly taken by the beauty of the woman before him. In one fluid motion, the length of his body was on top of hers, and his lips trailed lightly along her neck.

She really wanted him to continue, but leaned onto her side, pushing him off. "I have to go, Ryan. It's late and I have errands in the morning."

With a deep sigh, Ryan fell backward onto the bed again. "I wish you didn't have to go, Marguerite."

Meg's gaze fell to the clock, cursing the late hour. "Me too."

"So how about you move out of your flat and move in with me?" he asked.

This caught her off guard and her blue eyes widened in surprise. She felt a surge of emotions flowing through her; delight, fear, apprehension, love, excitement… "I don't know, Ryan. I think it's just too soon."

"We spend practically every waking moment together, Marguerite."

"I know…"

"And my flat has never been cleaner," he joked. She didn't laugh though, and her expression remained serious, her blue eyes boring into his. "Do you think about it- about moving in with me?" Ryan asked, leaning his head on his open palm, elbow on the pillow.

"I think about it all the time," Meg admitted. "It's just that we might be moving too fast."

"Too fast? You're already telling me how many children you want!"

"I know…"

"Don't you want to…be with me?" he asked, and suddenly Meg felt devastated by the doubtful look on his face.

Since Meg had confessed her love to Erik, and had been rejected, she had promised herself that she would not be spouting that four letter word again anytime soon; certainly not until she was the one on the receiving end. "Of course I want to be with you, Ryan," she assured him. Her hands found the gentle stubble of his cheeks, and slowly her lips met his in a very deep, passionate kiss.

Pulling back from her, he smiled, and it was a smile that made her stomach do flips. "I'm crazy about you, Marguerite. He took her hands in his, pressing kisses to her fingers. "And I want to go to sleep with you at night," Ryan told her huskily, and leaned close to her, whispering in her ear. "And wake up with you every morning."

In truth, Meg wanted that too, but was very hesitant about taking such a large leap. Her heart, though, was warmed by his words, and by the gentle way he now took her into his arms.

"I'm not going to pressure you," he declared, running fingers through the golden locks of her hair. "Just promise me you'll think about it."

Clinging to him like a child, Meg reveled in the sweet, soothing comfort of his body, of his touch, and the tenderness of his kiss as he set his lips upon her cheek.

"I promise."

"Alright then," he said, giving her one last peck on her forehead. "I'll take you home."

"Are you packed?" she asked, rising from the bed.

"No," he replied, admiring the lack of clothing on her perfect form.

"Ryan! Our flight leaves at noon tomorrow, and you need to be ready…" she said frantically, pulling on her jeans and a sweater.

"I'll be ready."

The look of alarm on her face was unmistakable, and her voice rose with every word. "But you still need to pick up your dry cleaning, and return those dvd's, and …."

He cut her off, rising from the bed, and resting his hands on her shoulders. "I'll be ready," he repeated. Ryan could see the look of worry on the blond's face.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I'm so nervous. I've never brought a man home before," she explained. "And my mother is not always the easiest person to get along with…"

"I'm sure that your mother has a lot more to worry about than meeting her daughter's boyfriend," he assured. "She'll probably be more occupied with her wedding plans."

Meg nodded. "You're right. And besides, she's going to adore you, Ryan, and I can't wait for you to meet Nadir, and especially Christine."

"She's the one you grew up with, right? Also a singer?"

"Yes, and oh, you'll also meet her fiancée, Erik."

"Right. He was… your music teacher?"

Her eyes met his, and she gave a slight smile, nodding. "Yes, he was my music teacher." Meg had not dared divulge more information about Erik than was necessary. That had been a very private part of her life that she hoped not to bring up again.

"This is great, Marguerite. I've never been to Paris, and I can't wait to meet your family and friends," he replied, picking up his slacks that were in a crumpled heap on the carpeted floor. "I'm really looking forward to it."

"Really?" Meg asked doubtfully, as he took her into his arms once again. She had to wonder why anyone would willingly want to subject themselves to such scrutiny.

"Absolutely," he replied with a smile, gazing into her eyes adoringly.

It took Meg's breath away. She could not recall a time when a man had ever looked at her this way.

"I can't wait," Ryan told her, squeezing her tightly.

Meg loved that he was so eager to come home to Paris with her, and get to know the people that she was closest to. She found that she loved many things about him. Though his words were sweet and reassuring, she could not help feeling apprehensive. Facing him, she forced a smile and gave him a kiss. "Me too. I can't wait."

Somehow, Meg thought this would be a lot more difficult, but now as she faced Erik, she found that the small stab of pain she had accustomed herself to whenever she was around him had finally disappeared.

I'm over him, she thought. Finally.

Even as Erik linked his arm through hers charmingly and smiled at her with those devastating blue eyes, she could honestly say it. I'm over him. Meg didn't question why he was pulling her away from the crowd at the reception, or where Christine had been at that moment, or for that matter, what had become of Ryan? Instead, she could only revel in the normal feeling she felt- that awesomely platonic feeling of friendship she felt as her former tutor smiled down at her.

"I can't tell you how happy I am to see you, Meg," Erik confided.

Meg smiled. "I'm so happy to be here, Erik. I missed you all so much."

He led her into his office, and gestured for her to be seated in the oversized leather chair. "Paris hasn't been the same since you left."

She let out an involuntary giggle. It was hardly like the man to be…complimentary. "And it never will be," she replied jokingly.

His face became serious, and the laughing look in his eyes disappeared. When he spoke, his voice was low. "Indeed."

An uncomfortable silence had risen between them, and Meg began to fidget, shifting around in the chair. "Only a few months and I'll be back here for another wedding," she said cheerily.

Erik blinked then and turned, moving behind his desk, and pulled something from the drawer. He sat down, holding an object in his hand, but from Meg's view it was not visible. "So are you happy with this…Ryan?"

Sitting up in her chair, she smiled, somehow wondering why she felt like she was being interviewed. "Yes. Very happy."

His deep blue eyes moved back to the object he was holding, and when he spoke, his voice was filled with regret. "I never thanked you, Meg."

"For what?"

Finally, Erik's hands raised the object into Meg's view, and the blond's breath caught in her throat at the sight of it. The monkey statue.

"I never truly thanked you for this treasure," he told her softly, his elegant fingers sweeping the fine detail of the monkey's piano.

Perhaps, she should not have, but at this moment, Meg began to feel very uncomfortable. "Uh…you're welcome."

Erik stood, the statue gripped in his two hands, and moved to the front of the desk. Leaning back against it, he now faced her. "I've learned very much about myself the past six months that you've been gone, Meg."

Suddenly she felt tempted to run from that room, but her curiosity would not let her. "What have you learned, Erik?"

He set the statue down on the desk and met her eyes. "I've learned that I've been a fool. I owe you an apology for the way I treated you."

Shaking her head, she spoke, "It's alright, Erik, that was a long time ago…"

His voice cut in, "I've also learned something else. You were right."

Her brows knit together as the air in the room began to suffocate her. She shot up from her chair, her eyes turning away from his magnetic gaze. "I think Ryan's looking for me, Erik."

He was standing behind her now and she could feel his breath in her ear. "You were right," he repeated. With force, Erik spun her around to face him. "We belong together."

"No. I was wrong, Erik," she said, backing away, but he grabbed her wrists.

"Now that you're here, Meg," he said icily, pulling her into an embrace so tightly she could hardly breathe. "I can't let you go."

It started from the diaphragm and rose all the way up her chest and through her throat and finally past her lips; Meg's scream nearly shook her flat, and awakened her roommate, Danielle. Sitting up in her bed, Meg was sweating, and with her heart pounding like a drum, she realized with relief that it had only been a dream…

…A nightmare.

Wiping her forehead, Meg glanced at the clock. Her plane would be leaving in seven hours, and she fought the creepy residue of the nightmare. She could not help but wonder why she would have such a dream. Quickly, she brushed away that thought, and settled herself back in her bed. Breathing a happy sigh, the petite blond smiled. In just hours, she and her lovable Ryan would be headed to Paris. Soon she would be there to witness her mother's wedding, and once again be reunited with her best friend…

…And she truly couldn't wait.

A/N: Thanks so much to those who have reviewed! Love you all! Next update will be taking Meg back to Paris. Hopefully you will hang in there with me while I work this all out. And of course, as always, leave me a review :)