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Finally! The balance in Ben Warren's life was restored. He breezed from one day to the next, content and satisfied. When they worked together, he watched Miranda work, taking her time with every instrument, scrupulously planting stitches and occasionally looking over at him. The two doctors were truly happy. Their lives fit together so perfectly.

He spent a lot of time at Miranda's house even when Tuck was there. It was the life he'd always figured he'd have: a woman who had his heart wrapped around her finger and a kid—who wasn't biologically his, but that fact was miniscule because he simply adored the boy. He loved helping Tuck learn how to play the drums while she watched pretending to work. Or setting up a movie night in his living room for them, and Ava, complete with fake movie tickets, candy and popcorn. Miranda's walls were completely down with him. And he was stone in love with her.

Ben could practically feel the glares from people wondering when he'd propose. But he and Miranda had talked about it and concluded that it was best to wait. There was no need to rush. And he truly understood where she was coming from; love hadn't been easy for her—or him. Her marriage to Tucker had done a number on her heart and just thinking about the nonsense Regina had put him through made him want to curl into an eternal fetal position. She'd almost written his fate, but he'd been able to steer her out of his life. In almost three months, he hadn't heard a peep from his ex. Everything was good.

So good, in fact, that Ben had gotten the courage to apply to a few surgical residency programs. 25 to be exact. Two in Seattle, more than a few on the west coast, but the rest were scattered across the US. Anesthesiology was a good, solid profession, but it didn't give him the rush that he knew surgery could provide. Each time he stepped into an OR, he saw visions of him performing surgery not on the other side, forcing someone into a medicinal sleep.

Oh! There were times when he was able to do something cool, but those were few and far between. And not to brag, but with his background, he was basically a shoo-in for any program. It was a matter of which one gave him the best chance at living the life he wanted. When he'd told Miranda about his plans, she'd been impressed and even helped him with his applications. Them working together, poring over the information was just like when they worked on Leslie Wilson all that time ago. It bonded them even more.

The one thought that bothered Ben every so often was the idea of getting rejected. What if he didn't get in and all this work had been for nothing? Miranda had let him vent, but as soon as he was finished, she told him to zip up his doubts and to focus. He had the goods, the recs, the experience; he would be star. Ben loved having her in his corner. They'd even talked about a long-distance relationship should he get accepted somewhere that wasn't in Seattle or the surrounding area. "I don't know if I can do long distance, hon, but I'll try for you," she'd said. He'd taken his time thanking her and then she'd thanked him, her voice breathy in his ear: "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

One morning, Ben stepped out of the bathroom that connected to Miranda's bedroom with a towel dangling from his waist. He sat in the chair in the corner. She walked out a few seconds later tugging up a towel over her chest. Even though they'd spent half an hour in the shower, he couldn't stop himself from staring at his woman. His eyes traveled from her perfect feet up her legs, the towel around her body only gave him a glimpse of her curves and he was okay with that. "What are you gawking at?" She asked over her shoulder, reaching into her top drawer to get some underwear.

He resisted the urge to move behind her and continue what they'd started and finished in the shower. Ben grinned just thinking about it. Miranda's back against her cool tile, him steadying them while stroking her slowly, trying not to slip. His calves were still vibrating. "You," he answered simply. When she walked by him, he grabbed her hand pulling her into his lap. He moaned as soon as her plump ass covered his thighs. Using one hand to caress her body, he gripped her waist with the other. Their faces were so close, but he didn't make a move waiting for her to lean in first. She planted a kiss on him so softly, it annoyed him. He wanted more. Touching the back of her head, his tongue delved into her mouth, savoring her.

"Okay, that's enough, I have to go work." Miranda started to stand up, but he held her in place. "Yes?"

"I'm not finished yet," he told her unloosening her towel and pushing his face into her chest. The scent of her bodywash was driving him crazy. He nibbled her slightly damp shoulders, sliding a hand between her legs.

Throwing her head back, she whispered "God" as he touched her with purpose. Her arms clutched his head as her walls did the same to his fingers. He lifted his hand to his lips. She watched him with her eyebrows raised.

"Want some?" He smirked and she pushed him good-naturedly.

Her big, brown eyes landed on him freezing him for a second. "Can I get dressed? Please." Her tone told him that she actually wanted to be doing the opposite of that. She didn't want to get dressed, didn't want to leave, wanted him to keep her on his lap, exploring her body with his hands and mouth.

He sucked his teeth. "You're sure?" Looking at the clock, he added: "Because you still have like five minutes."

Miranda licked his lips and his heart leapt. "Yes, I'm sure," she said shaking her head.

A smile inched across his face that turned into full-blown laughter. With one last kiss, she got off of him and sat on the edge of her bed, lathering lotion on her body before putting on her underwear. He grabbed another bottle and followed suit. "So, uh, what's your weekend looking like?" Though it was still a few days away, he had a few fun options in mind for the weekend. And he always made sure to think of at least two plans—one for when Miranda had Tuck and another more adult one for when Tucker picked the boy up. Sometimes he'd surprise her, but most times he needed to know what was on her schedule lest he be disappointed.

She didn't answer right away and for a second, he thought that maybe she hadn't heard him. Just as he was about to repeat his question, she said: "I'm, uh, going home actually. Tuck and I. To Baltimore for the weekend."

"Oh!"

"Yeah, it's that time of year again." Half-dressed, Miranda stood up and went to her closet. He loved that she was comfortable enough with him to do that. Their relationship was really thriving. "We see my parents, hang out, family comes over. It's a thing."

In the mirror, Ben saw her watching him slip into his jeans. "That sounds nice."

"It is."

Sitting down to put on his socks, he asked the question that was burning him up. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"About what?"

"About you going out of town, Miranda."

She sighed and walked over to him, hugging him from behind, her face in his naked back. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for. I…" Moving away, he tugged on his undershirt. "I don't get why you didn't tell me, that's all." He turned to look at her, wanting to be frustrated, but only finding the energy to be confused.

"I didn't want this… what's happening now. The awkwardness."

"It's not awkward. We're just talking."

She sighed. "Can we talk about this later?"

"If you're even in town," he said in a passive-aggressively. It made her scowl and he apologized. "Sorry, that was unnecessary. Yes, we can." They finished getting dressed quietly. At her front door, she closed it and started to walk by him. "Hey."

"Hey."

He inhaled and held her face leaning down for a kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

The air between them swelled as he walked her to her car, closing the door after her. "Have a good day."

Miranda finally smiled. "You, too."

Since he was on-call, he went back home and slept most of the day away, only popping up to get some food in his system. Later, at the hospital, on his way to a lounge, Miranda called. Overjoyed—that's how he felt just seeing her name on his screen. "Hey, babe."

"Hello, Benjamin Anthony Warren."

A smile leapt from his lips. "You know, I like when you call me 'Ben Warren'."

"That's your name, isn't it?" She asked in a sassy tone.

"But I like when you call me by my full name," he remarked, his smile getting bigger.

"I'll keep that in mind."

The two of them were quiet for a few seconds. "So, anything good today?"

"Um, the usual… someone threw themselves from a train."

"Again?" He imagined her nodding. "Are they okay?"

Miranda chuckled. "About as good as can be expected." They talked about nothing in general as he changed into his scrubs. Neither of them mentioning their conversation just hours earlier. Ben didn't know what he should say or what he should even think. It wasn't that he wanted to go with her. Though he wouldn't mind. But the fact that she didn't tell him, ticked him off. "I miss you," she said interrupting his thoughts.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. When do you get off?"

"Early."

"My place later?" She asked.

"I'll be there."

The patient that Miranda had been telling him about was rushed into surgery the next morning and he was thrown onto the case. It was touch and go, but the guy would be fine and Ben couldn't wait to start his surgical residency and

Pushing his exhaustion to the side, he drove to Miranda's house on Thursday morning as soon as he was finished. He knew she was still asleep, so he let himself with the key that she'd given him. Actually, she'd just never taken it back after giving it to him to let himself and Tuck into the house. "Hold on to it," she'd said. Ben locked the door behind him and headed to her room. Miranda was sleeping peacefully and he got undressed and got into bed behind her, wrapping himself around hers. "Hot."

"Huh?"

"You're hot," Miranda said.

"Thank you. You're hot, too."

"No," she laughed turning to face him. "Physically. Your body feels like…" She yawned as he rolled away. "Get back over here."

"There you go confusing me again."

She shrugged and touched his chin. "You should be used to it by now."

Ben shook his head. "I'm not," he admitted with a worried chuckle. "What's going on, Miranda?" Why did he even bother asking? His girlfriend was stubborn and would only tell him when she couldn't hold it in any longer. It always unnerved him because, though he knew it wasn't true, it made him feel like she didn't trust him. The room grew extremely silent and he exhaled. The sun was peeking through the curtains and he could see that her eyes were closed and so he closed his. His night had been long enough.

"I'm just not sure I'm ready for you to meet my parents." The gravel in her voice tickled him and he slowly grabbed a handful of her t-shirt. "I know I've met your parents and your sister and all the important people in your life, but…" Her voice trailed off. He stayed quiet. She was letting another wall down and he just had to be patient. "But if you meet mine… it's like saying that…" Ben felt Miranda looking at him and he opened his eyes. Her hands went to his chin again. "It's like saying you're The One."

"The One?"

"Yes, the one I'm going to spend the rest of my life with." He held in a smirk. "And I know th-that it sounds irrational and ridiculous, but that's how I feel." His lips hit her palm and her body shifted. "Do I sound crazy?"

He took a deep breath. "You sound like a woman who has every reason to be anxious. And I'm not trying to rush you. I don't even have to meet your parents, babe."

"Oh, be serious!"

"I am. Talking to them on the phone in passing is good enough for me if it's good enough for you," he told her earnestly. "We've been together almost… nine months? We're still getting to know each other without any added pressure."

"Right."

"So… enjoy your vacation and come back and tell me all about it."

"If I asked you to come…"

"I'll feel like you're pitying me. If you wanted me to go, you would have asked."

Miranda's brows dipped. He knew there was more she wanted to say, but all she said was: "Are we okay?"

"We're fine, Miranda."

"But you're calling me 'Miranda'," she countered.

Ben faked a yawn that turned into a real one. "That's your name, isn't it?" He pushed his face into her chest, trying to get comfortable.

"Hmm…"

"What, woman?"

"You're mad."

"I'm not mad!" He told her. "I'm tired, babe. I am just… tired."

She nodded, gritting her teeth. "Then, I'll just let you get some rest," she said grabbing a pillow, scooting toward the edge of the bed. And he'd really messed up because instead of kicking him out, she was rolling off of the bed and walking toward her bedroom door.

"Where are you going?" He asked to her back, fruitlessly, because she was already gone. He sighed and looked at her ceiling. It wasn't even like he wanted to meet Elena and William Bailey that badly. Well, he did, but he also didn't want them comparing him to the ex-son-in-law that they'd loved. He'd heard about how critical her mom was of her sometimes and didn't think he'd be able to sit back and listen to that without jumping in. And what if the situation with Regina came up? How was he going to defend that? Ben sighed again—loudly.

But none of that mattered. What mattered was that Miranda was not in his arms, she was out there. Grabbing the comforter off her bed, he pulled it around his bare shoulders and walked toward the living room where she was laying on the sofa with a blanket on top of her. With theatrics rivaling that of Broadway, he lay down next to her making her flail. "What are you doing?" She giggled.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Snapping. I…" He tossed the cover over both of their bodies. "Your parents and I will meet when you're ready." She nodded. "But I'm the only man for you. Can I tell you that?" He moved in for a kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth without asking for entrance. "You are the woman with whom I'm going to spend the rest of my life."

"I am?" He confirmed as Miranda touched the back of his head, kissing him again. Her moan made him rise and he threw a leg over her body. "You never told me that."

He nudged her chin with his nose. "Maybe not that exact thing, but you know how I feel about you, Miranda." She bit the corner of her bottom lip arousing him even more. "Plus, it's not really the kind of thing that one says every day." His heart was pounding, reverberating in his ears. What kind of hold did she have on him? "What say you?"

"I say…" It was his turn to moan when Miranda ran a tongue over his bare chest. "Breakfast?"