I hop off the subway, whistling to myself as I lug my camera bag over my shoulder. I've just finished photographing what feels like my millionth celebrity wedding, and I'm more than ready to get home. I check my watch as I take the stairs to street-level – it's eight-thirty. Specs should just be closing up the gallery right about now.

Specs, or Daniel to anyone who didn't go to high school with us, is... well, there are so many terms for what he is, I don't even know which one to use. Boyfriend, lover, life partner, other half, love of my life, soul mate... take your pick. Anyway, he's who I come home to after a long, hard day of taking pictures. We've been together for about twelve years now, and, thanks to him, not a second of it has been boring.

The thought of him makes me smile even as I make my way through the sea of homeless people and foul-smelling hot dog vendors to get home. I think tonight I want to do something extra special for Specs. I stop by a flower vendor just as he's closing up for the night and buy a bunch of red and white carnations.

Today's job has put ideas in my head.

Soon the church bells will be ringin', and I'll march with Ma and Pa! Oh, how the church bells will be ringin', with a hey-nonny-nonny and a ha-cha-cha!

I'm still whistling as I walk up to our building.

"Good evening, Mr. Visser," the doorman says with a grin. "Well, aren't we in a good mood this evening?"

I grin back. "Oh, Charlie, you have no idea."

As I stroll into the lobby, my cell phone rings. It's Specs.

"Where are you?" He doesn't even wait for me to actually answer the phone, he just starts talking as soon as I pick up.

"I'm at the laundromat," I reply.

Specs groans. "Oh, God. We're doomed."

I laugh. "Relax. I'm in the lobby, I'll be up in just a second. You need something?"

"Just wondering if you've had dinner yet."

"Nope. People aren't real big on feeding the photographer." I step into the elevator and press the button for my floor. "And I'm starving."

"Well, that's a good thing, because I just ordered Chinese."

"Sounds good. Okay, I'm almost to our floor, so I'll see you in a second."

"Okay."

"Specs?" I push my hair out of my face. I've been doing that for years and have never thought to get a different haircut.

"Yeah, Dutch."

"I love you."

Specs chuckles. "I love you, too."

I step off the elevator and nearly skip down the hallway to my apartment. I open the door and grin. "Luuuucy, I'm hoooome!"

Specs comes out of his office, rolling his eyes. "You're so weird." He shakes his head and kisses me. "What's with the flowers?"

I thrust them out to him. "They're for you."

He smiles and takes them. "Um, thanks. Why?"

I grin. "Why not?" He laughs and takes the flowers into the kitchen and I follow. "So, how were things at the gallery today?"

Specs shrugs. "They were pretty good. Had a couple arts reporters from the Times come in and snoop around a little bit. We're getting pretty popular," he says, grinning with pride.

Specs and I own an art gallery together called the Visberg. We opened it up a couple of months ago and so far, it's doing really well. We haven't had a bad review to date. Specs runs it when he's not working on his comic book (which is wildly successful, even though he doesn't like to talk about it) and I run it when I'm not out doing my photography, and there are even a few rare but sweet occasions when we get to run the gallery together.

All in all, it was a pretty good investment.

"How was the wedding?" Specs digs a vase out from under the sink and puts the flowers in it.

"It was okay. You know, lots of creepy straight people."

He laughs. "Funny, you were once one of those creepy straight people."

I wrinkle my nose. "I try to put the past behind me, thanks."

Specs laughs again and the door buzzes. He walks to the entryway and tells the delivery guy to come on up. In just a couple minutes, our dinner arrives and we settle down for a nice, quiet meal.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Specs likes to read before he goes to sleep. Tonight it's some book on baseball. I don't know why he reads these things... they all seem so boring to me. I lay beside him, staring up at the ceiling and listening to him rhythmically turn the pages.

After several minutes, I turn onto my side. "Specs?"

"Hmm," he doesn't even look up from his book.

"Will you marry me?"

This makes him drop the book entirely. "What?"

"Will you marry me?" I repeat.

He blinks at me. "Dutchy, we can't get married."

"So? We'll have a commitment ceremony or whatever and it'll be just as good. To you and me, we'll be married."

"Have you lost your mind?"

"I'm serious." I sit up, still looking at him. "I love you and you love me. There's no reason why we shouldn't do this."

He sits and stares at me for a couple minutes, and I can almost see the little wheels turning around in his head.

"Come on," I say. "You know my logic is indisputable."

Specs laughs a little bit, then nods. "Okay," he says, and he kisses me.