Nick fidgeted with the edge of his seatbelt as the plane picked up speed along the Heathrow runway. After Gander, he thought he'd be flying less – and work agreed, for once.

But here he went again, on another flight to Dallas, no less.

The things we do for love, eh?

He chuckled to himself. He certainly hadn't had anything quite as exciting waiting for him the last time he flew to Dallas. Or, well, he had, but he hadn't realised it at the time.

It was still taking some getting used to, the idea of someone waiting for him at the other end.

He thought about Diane, wondered what she might be doing right now. Would she be as anxious as he was? Perhaps giving her house the third frantic cleaning of the day. Perhaps she'd be preparing food – she had promised him an authentic Texan barbecue despite the inappropriateness of the season.

Or perhaps she'd be out finishing off the last of her Christmas shopping. He thought of the gift he'd brought with him in his carry on (after last time he wasn't risking putting anything important in checked baggage). Well, there was the gift and then there was the ring.

It had been a spur of the moment thing, really. A flight of fancy. He'd gone to the jeweller's just to look, honestly. But then he'd seen it. Mesmerised, he'd asked to see it with shaking fingers and before he knew it he was walking out of there with an engagement ring burning in his pocket.

The salesman had reeled off a dozen little details about cut and carat, but all Nick could think about was how perfect it'd look on Diane's finger when she said yes.

If she said yes.

Oh God, what if she says no? Nick stopped a passing flight attendant to order a scotch – unusual for him, but he figured it might help distract him from the possibility that he was flying across the Atlantic to propose to a woman whom he'd only known for 3 months and who might well laugh him out of her home.

At Christmas.

Fuck.

Several hours later, Nick disembarked feeling no less restless. His thoughts had yo-yoed between hopeful anticipation along with the butterflies that still rose up every time he thought of her smile, her voice telling him she loved him over the phone and a sort of nagging suspicion that it was all in his head and this taxi he'd just slid into was taking him to his doom.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he'd completely ignored the driver's few attempts at conversation. Their unexpectedly sudden arrival at their destination coupled with an embarrassed realisation of his rudeness in hindsight guilted Nick into foisting a large tip into the driver's hands.

After retrieving his luggage, he was left standing in what appeared to be Diane's driveway.

He took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. But before he could get more than three steps up the driveway, the front door opened and a small Texan whirlwind came barrelling towards him.

Diane thudded into his chest, throwing her arms around him.

"You're here!" she cried gleefully.

His luggage dropped to the ground and as his arms circled around her, every tiny doubt he'd been experiencing simply melted away.

Diane.

Diane was in his arms.

This was perfect.

Everything else was meaningless.

"Hello you!" he smiled down at her.

"Hello yourself! Get down here and give me a kiss!"

Nick happily complied and as their lips met, a feeling of warmth and happiness and home came over him. He would have happily stood there for hours just kissing her, but then he felt her shiver in his arms.

"Shall we get inside?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid I'm not dressed for outdoors. You surprise me, I wasn't expecting your flight until later."

"Yes, well, I may have wanted to surprise you," he admitted – remembering his half-baked notion of getting down on one knee on her doorstep. I suppose that idea's out the window. Probably for the best.

"Nick Marson, you sly thing!" she chuckled as she turned to pick up his luggage. "Here, let me help with these".

As he began to protest, she simply slid her hand into his, stating "Now you have your hand free for more important things."

He couldn't help but smile. He loved her so much.

As they crossed the threshold, he could feel the warmth of the living room fireplace contrasting the chill air from outside.

"We'll just leave your bags here for now, I'll take 'em upstairs later" she said.

Ah Nick thought, so there IS an upstairs. And then blushed profusely at the memory.

Diane gave him a brief tour of her house and Nick followed along awkwardly, uncertain of what to do with his hands.

As they wound up back in the living room, she led him over to the sofa.

"So how was your flight?" she asked, sitting deliberately close and curling her feet underneath her to turn and face him, one arm reaching out to smooth over his collar and pick some imaginary lint from his shoulder.

"Not bad. I suppose this time I made it all the way to Dallas, so I can't really complain," he said.

He loved the way she looked when she laughed. He'd become used to hearing it over the phone and often went out of his way to try and elicit that musical cascade of a giggle from her, but he'd forgotten what she looked like when she laughed. The way her eyes crinkled warmly at the sides, or the dimples that appeared in her cheeks.

She was beautiful.

He couldn't help himself from reaching for her, from sliding his hand against her cheek and pressing his lips to hers.

Lord, this was so much better than he remembered. And he had remembered it often over the last few months.

His arms slid around her waist and they both scooted closer on the sofa, trying to feel as much of each other's bodies against theirs as they could.

That was how they passed the next hour or so, talking softly and reconnecting, taking in all the little details you miss about a person when they're not in the room with you. When the conversation ran dry, they'd simply find other things for their lips to do.

It was heaven.

Nick honestly thought he was dreaming.

And perhaps he was. Diane shook him gently.

"Nick?" she rolled her eyes at him affectionately. "That's the second time you've nodded off!"

"Hmm? Sorry, I think the jet lag is starting to sink in," he mumbled apologetically.

"That's ok. Come on, " she stood up, offering her hand. "Let's get you to bed."

She gently led him upstairs, swinging by his luggage to grab out pyjamas, and left him for a few moments to change while she brushed her teeth.

And so it was that the first time Nick got into bed with Diane – a time that he had fantasised about and pictured in a hundred different ways – involved his eyes closing as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He dimly registered a soft kiss being pressed to his forehead and a small, warm hand slipping into his own before sleep claimed him.

The next morning, Nick awoke with a start at finding himself in an unfamiliar bed before remembering America. Dallas.

Diane.

He could feel her warmth pressed against him and gratefully snuggled closer, slipping an arm around her waist and burying his nose in the crook of her neck. He closed his eyes, safe and home at last.

He awoke again some time later to find that Diane had turned around in his arms and was now pressing gentle kisses to his face and neck to wake him.

He hummed with delight, a low rumble happening somewhere in his chest, as his mouth found hers. He pulled her closer, one hand splayed across her back and the other landing on her hip.

She hooked one ankle around his leg, which brought the length of her body flush against his and made him (much to his embarrassment) moan into their kiss, his tongue darting out to taste her.

He rolled over onto his back, pulling her astride him. This is it he thought. I've died and gone to heaven.

He slid one shaking hand further up her thigh, finding the lacy hem of her nightgown rucked up higher than expected.

She grinned shyly at him and as she bent down to kiss him, a lock of blonde hair fell across her face. Pausing momentarily to tuck it behind her ear, Nick ran his eyes over her once more.

"You're beautiful, Diane. I … I love you"

And with that, they lunged for each other and were lost in a passionate whirl of hands and lips and moans and tenderness and finally, yes, each other.

Later, as they lay tangled in each other, Nick lazily stroking a hand up and down her side, she smiled up at him.

"Well, that's one way to say good morning, I suppose!"

"Wait, are you telling me that's not the traditional Texan welcome? I shall have to re-read my guide book!" he joked.

"Nick!" she gently slapped his chest. "No, I don't greet all my houseguests that way… only my favourites," she added with a kiss.

"Anyway, how about I make us some breakfast? There's toast or I can do waffles if you like?"

As she sat up, a beam of morning sunshine caught her side and as she glanced back at him expectantly, Nick felt himself choked up. This was perfect. She was perfect.

"… I don't have anything to make toutons, I'm afraid. I mean, I could head out to the shops, but it's freezing out there and…"

"Marry me."

She froze.

"What?"

Nick sat up, all his usual timidity and uncertainty gone.

"Marry me. I love you, Diane, and being with you again, being able to hold you, it's made me more certain than ever that I want to be with you. To grow old with you. I want to wake up like this every morning and fall asleep beside you at night. I want…"

"Yes," she answered. "Oh my god, yes!"

"Really?" he beamed.

"Of course!"

They both laughed with delight. He reached for her, kissing her messily through his grin.

"Oh! I should give you this," he said, leaping up to fish around in his carry-on case.

When he'd found it, Nick returned to the bed with a small black velvet box. He opened it to reveal a delicate gold band with a diamond glinting on top.

He reached for Diane's hand and slid it gently onto her finger, before kissing her once more.

They never got around to waffles in the end.

Later, as they took a stroll around the neighbourhood, gloved fingers intertwined against the cold, Diane turned to him to ask:

"So how is this going to work?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the whole Dallas/London thing. You still live on the other side of the ocean."

He glanced at her out of the side of his eye.

"Well…" he began with a grin. "I wanted to talk to you about that, actually. After I got back from Gander, I had a long and serious chat with HR about reducing the amount of flying they were making me do. I think that was finally enough to make them listen. Anyway, they said it was a necessary part of my current role and there was nothing they could do about it, but that if I was happy to swap into another position in the company, they might have a place for me."

"Oh?" she prompted

"Well, when I called them to book in my leave to come here, they asked if I'd be interested in making the trip a bit more… well, permanent. You know that my company has an office here in Dallas?"

"I didn't, but go on," she says, eyes brimming with anticipation.

"Well, they do. And they have an opening. If I accept, I start mid-January. What…what do you think?" he stammered, suddenly nervous. "Would that be alright?"

She stopped walking.

"Nick Marson, do you really think I'd accept your proposal and then kick you all the way back to London?" she laughed incredulously, then rolled her eyes affectionately at his sheepish expression.

"Stay here," she said. "With me. Live with me, love me, grow old with me."

"I like the sound of that," he said, tucking her arm into the crook of his elbow.

They continued along the footpath, huddled together against the chill winter wind. It was cold, but they weren't in any hurry.

They had the rest of their lives.