"Keep them closed…no peeking!" a playful, high-pitched voice commanded.

"Ummm, babe, even if I wanted to peek you have your hands over my eyes, so it's kind of impossible!" a slightly annoyed (though not actually upset) voice answered back, as the two figures who were speaking shuffled out the door into the yard.

"That's the idea! Okay, time for the countdown…three…two….one….okay, you can open them!"

The hands were removed, and a pair of blue eyes blinked a few times, before opening wide.

"Whoa…."

"It's one of my finest creations, if I do say so myself," seventeen-year-old Mabel Pines said, preening. Then she slipped around to her boyfriend's side, looking up at him out of the corner of her eyes. "Do you like it? You can be honest with me, you know." Even so, she batted her eyelashes a little, clearly hoping to encourage a positive response.

"It's…spectacular," Mikey murmured, awestruck.

Standing before him on a giant platter was a life-size statue of his likeness, made out of frozen squeezable cheese. It was already starting to drip on one side from the warm afternoon sun, but for the most part it was intact. You could make out the shape of the Z-Files knitted cap Mikey always wore, and even that he was chewing his lip like he did when he got really lost in thought.

"Happy Three-Year-Aversary!" Mabel squealed, before hugging him around the neck.

Mikey happily returned the gesture, before pulling back with a raised eyebrow. "Our anniversary? But babe, that's not until tomorrow…."

Mabel looked a little confused. "Well, yeah, technically, but I thought since we have our doctor's appointment tomorrow, exchanging gifts would bring us-"

"GOOD LUCK!" Mikey interrupted as he pulled out a tiny box with a golden bow on it.

Mabel blushed in spite of herself, and then playfully swatted him.

"You tease!"

"Oh, if you don't want it-" Mikey started to pull the box back towards his pocket.

Mabel snatched it from him. "Don't you dare!"

Carefully she unwrapped the bow to keep in her scrapbook, admiring the soft texture of the ribbon.

Mikey sighed and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. "C'mon, open it while we're still young!"

"Oh, what's that, you want me to take my time?" Mabel slowed her motions to a crawl. "Ohhhh-kaaaaay, Miiii-eep!"

Mikey held his pointer finger threateningly against her tummy. "You gonna open that, or am I gonna have to really bring out the big guns?"

"Okay, okay!"

When she lifted the lid of the box, Mabel nearly dropped it as she realized what was inside. Nestled in the fabric was a small gold ring, bedazzled with a pair of glistening diamonds shaped like tiny hearts.

"Is-is this-" Even though it was something she'd fantasized about for years, Mabel felt a small hand squeezing her throat, and she had to blink a few times to try and prevent moisture from rising into her eyes.

"Don't worry, IT'S NOT AN ENGAGEMENT RING!" Mikey yelled, glancing towards the house.

"IT BETTER NOT BE! OR YOU'LL HAVE MORE THAN YOUR HEALTH TO WORRY ABOUT!" Stan Pines shouted back.

Mikey grinned. "Knew he was watching."

Mabel rolled her eyes, even as she lifted the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. "…So, what is it?" It wasn't a perfect fit, but it just needed to be tightened a little.

"It's a promise ring. Promising that I'll always love you…and that one day, preferably with parental consent for both of us, I will marry you," he whispered.

This time Mabel didn't even try to keep the tears out of her eyes; instead, she beamed at her boyfriend, cupping his face in her hands.

The two were just leaning in to kiss-when suddenly Mabel's view of him was blocked by a large beige trench coat.

"Who's hungry? I made croissants with chocolate centers!" a familiar voice said playfully, in a tone indicating that he knew full well he had butted in, and was quite proud of it.

"Gee…thanks Grunkle Ford," Mabel playfully grumbled, even as she reached around to snatch a croissant off the tray. Ford caught her wrist, and twisted it until he could get a good look at her hand.

"Oh, what a lovely ring! If you like, I can put it under a microscope to see if the diamonds are real."

"Aww, c'mon, man! I'm a seventeen-year-old kid who had cancer! I couldn't afford real diamonds!" Mikey pouted.

Ford beamed, and finally released his daughter. "Good! Now Stanley and I know it's just a promise ring and not a secret engagement ring." He set the tray of croissants onto the table, and leaned down, staring intently at Mikey until he squirmed. "Even if you had been foolish enough to propose to Mabel right now, there's no way we would allow her to say yes unless the diamonds were genuine fourteen-carat."

"…This promise is gonna have to last us a few years," Mikey said after a minute.

"Good." Ford patted his shoulder, and finally went back inside.

Mikey sighed, and flopped down on the picnic bench they'd set up. Mabel perched next to him, still munching the croissant (even if it had interrupted their moment, it was still unbelievably delicious).

"I don't mind waiting," she promised, licking chocolate off her lips as she admired the ring. "We've got all the time in the world."

Mikey wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Yeah."