A/N: It seems that I've hit a weird point in my fanfic writing career. I'm in the middle of three stories and I have ideas for new chapters for each of them. However, I can't seem to write any of it. My mind is hopelessly scattered. So I've written this ficlet just so I could post something to let anyone following my stories know that it'll probably be a while. I always feel guilty when I go for a while without posting with no explanation. Yes, I know I'm slightly demented. Anyway, here's a little belated Valentine's fic featuring Helen and Will. And, yes, I know that this is not happening any time soon on the show, if ever. Alexandri

Try as she might, Helen Girardi could not keep a tiny smile from playing across her lips. Will had called her from work, asked her to put on her best dress and meet him at Pastiani's at seven o'clock. When she'd pressed for answers, he'd teasingly avoided giving any. He simply repeated his request: best dress, Pastiani's, seven o'clock.

It was now seven-thirty and they were in the middle of a lovely meal, complete with warm, crusty bread, deliciously cool white wine, and the most unfettered conversation they'd had in months. Helen couldn't help the giddiness swelling in her chest. It just felt so good to finally talk to her husband without the doubts and suspicions and discomfort that had hovered over them for so long this year. Surely, that was plenty to smile about.

Their waiter had just cleared their table and taken their dessert orders when Will reached out and laid his hand over hers. Helen's heart quickened just as it had after their first kiss. For a long moment, they sat there, staring at each other, drinking in the beauty of the moment. Helen stared into his eyes and marveled that they were still together. They'd been through so much, so many rocky times, and yet she loved him as much now as she had twenty years ago when they'd said their vows.

"I suppose you've been wondering why I asked you out tonight," Will murmured finally, his voice low and warm and making her melt. How did he make her feel like such a schoolgirl after so many years?

"The thought's crossed my mind," she said, her smile growing wider. "It's not every day we go on spontaneous dates."

Will glanced down at the empty table in front of him, a pensive frown marring his brow.

"Will, what is it?"

His eyes slowly traveled up to her face. They were filled with sadness and regret and a well of guilt that caught her off guard. Suddenly, she wasn't so sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. "This whole thing with Lucy," he began quietly, "I got so wrapped up and I don't even know how. I've been blind and distant, thoughtless and cruel."

Now his eyes met Helen's full-on and she desperately wanted to return to the pleasant part of their evening, the easy, light part that had been missing between them for so long. But she couldn't find any words to stop him.

"The kids haven't really noticed. That's not good either. But," he paused and bit his lips, "but you, I haven't been fair."

"Will . . ."

"No," he interrupted. "Don't . . . don't brush this off, Helen. I'm trying to tell you." Will lifted her hand and twined his fingers with hers, his thumb sweeping back and forth over hers. "I don't like it. I don't agree with it. But it's not about me or us. It's about you and what you need and you never said it, but I know I took it away from you and I'm sorry."

"Will, what are you talking about?" she asked when she finally found her voice.

"Your . . . your confirmation," he said with some difficulty. "Catholicism. Religion. God. All of it. I know part of the reason you stopped is because of me and the . . . disconnectedness between us."

Giving his hand a small squeeze, she said, "It's all right."

"No, it isn't." He would have continued, but the waiter arrived with their desserts. When he left, Will returned his tortured gaze to Helen's. "It's not all right. This is something you've been wanting for . . . ever since we met. I've been an ass about it."

"Please, don't do this, Will." Her eyes were welling with tears and she'd have given anything to stop his torrent.

"Just listen. I'm trying to tell you that . . . that I'm done. I won't stand in your way anymore."

"What?" She couldn't have been more surprised if he'd said he wanted to quit his job and spend a year backpacking through the Yukon.

"I'm done standing in your way about religion. We don't have to agree about it. I don't have to like it. All I have to do is support you. So if you need this then I'm going to support you."

The tears that had been trembling on her eyelashes spilled down her cheek as a full-blown smile stretched her lips. "Really?"

Will reached out and took her other hand in his. "Really. Ever since we came here, our relationship had been getting better. Then Joan was diagnosed with Lyme disease and Lucy replaced Roebuck and Judith was killed and suddenly we were a world apart. I don't want anything to come between us like that again."

"Neither do I," she said softly, "but what does this have to do with your change of heart?"

"You could have hated me for what happened with Lucy or never trusted me again, but you didn't. I don't want to lose you over this religion thing."

"You haven't lost me so far."

Smiling slightly, Will said, "Everyone has a breaking point, Helen. I don't want you to reach yours."

Helen didn't know what to say. She'd figured that whenever she decided to get back to her confirmation studying, it would be another uphill battle with Will to accept it. Now she felt like he'd just given her the most precious gift she'd ever received. "Thank you," she whispered.

Will reached across the table and filled a fork full of tiramisu, which he raised to her lips. "Think of it as a belated Valentine's gift."