Chapter Twelve:

If You'll Be My Bride

"Seaweed! Penny never had to ring the doorbell at Seaweed's apartment; she'd had her own key for a couple years now. "I'm here!" She wouldn't have even had to announce herself when she came over for these Friday night dinners if common courtesy (and her fear of accidentally catching Seaweed in his underwear) didn't demand it.

"Seaweed?" He didn't answer. She turned on a light and stared, puzzled, at the carpet. There was a red rose sitting at her feet. There was another one about a foot away, and another… and another… and another…

She followed the trail of flowers into Seaweed's kitchen. There were two unlit candles, two sets of silverware, and two crystal wineglasses on the kitchen table. Seaweed was taking a chicken out of the oven. Penny stood silently watching him without alerting him to her presence. Clueless, he stuck a thermometer in the chicken, read it with satisfaction, and plunked the bird on a platter. He was turning around to put the chicken on the table when he saw her.

"Oh, hi!" he said, almost dropping the platter on the table. "You're early."

"Only by a few minutes," Penny said, a little amused by his jumpiness.

"Right." Seaweed took off his oven mitts and put them on the counter, then stepped out of the kitchen and held his arms out to her. "How are you, my princess?"

Penny giggled. "I'm fine, and that sounds like the best idea I've heard all day." Seaweed looked confused, and then laughed as he realized that she was referring to his "Kiss the Cook" apron. She stepped forward into his arms and did just that, reaching her arms around his waist to untie the apron.

After a minute or two, he turned the kiss into a hug. "Have I got a dinner for you!" He gestured toward the chicken on the table. "Lemon chicken—it's French." He pulled the lid off a pot on the stove. "New potatoes—also French." He grabbed a basket off the counter and placed it in the center of the table. "French bread—and, believe it or not, that's French, too." He grinned and pulled out a bottle of red wine from a cabinet.

"Let me guess," Penny smiled. "That's French wine?"

"On my budget?" Seaweed joked. "Nah, this is from California."

Penny beamed. "Either way, it all looks delicious. You did all this for me?"

"Yes." Seaweed dimmed the lights and lit the candles on the table. He pulled out Penny's chair for her before sitting down himself.

She watched him take a chicken leg and spoon out a serving of potatoes without taking any for herself. He looked up and noticed her staring at him. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she sighed. "It's just that you're amazing."

He smiled. "I love you, too." Suddenly, he got serious again. "Now eat. We've got somewhere we need to go after this."

"Where?"

"You'll see."

"Seaweed, where are we going?"

"You'll know when we get there." Penny and Seaweed were on the uptown bus, and Penny was getting agitated. Seaweed had still not told her where they were going, and while she was sure whatever he was doing was going to be sweet, a little information would have been nice.

"This is our stop," Seaweed announced. The bus lurched, and he stood up, offering his hand to Penny. She took it and stood, and together they went to the front of the bus.

When they got off the bus, Seaweed walked Penny down the street to… a bench. It looked old: the paint was chipping, and small chunks of wood had fallen off of it. Seaweed sat her down on it, and then sat down himself, facing her.

"What is this?" Penny asked, confused.

"Don't you remember? This is our bench! It's where I gave you this, five years ago." He touched the promise ring on her necklace, then ran his finger absently along the line of her collarbone. Chills ran up and down her spine.

He touched her shoulder, tenderly kissed her cheek, and whispered something in her ear. "Close your eyes." She did, and felt him move away from her. "Open them." She did. Seaweed was down on the sidewalk, on one knee.

Tears sparked in her eyes. "Seaweed…"

He put his finger on her lips. "Shh…wait a minute." He slowly took his hand from her face to her knee. "Penny Lou Pingleton," he said, "I have never loved anyone the way I love you.

There's no doubt, Penny: we're different. And I'd like to say that our differences haven't affected us… but they have. They have affected us in ways I never thought humanity could even think of.

But I never dreamed, Penny, that you would do what you have done for the past five years: stand by me. You stayed with me through everything that anyone ever said about us or did to us—the stares, the message on your house, almost getting killed, for gosh sake—because you loved me that much. And that is just too much to try to live without.

Penny Lou Pingleton, I do not ever want to live without you. I love you more than life itself.

Will you marry me?"

Out of his pocket came a tiny box covered with blue velvet. He opened it, and inside was a silver ring with a tiny diamond embedded in it.

By now, Penny was nearly bawling. "Yes. Yes yes YES! Oh, Seaweed, did you ever think I'd say no?"

Seaweed grinned. "Well, it's just sort of customary to ask before you start planning the wedding."

Penny threw her arms around his neck. "I love you."

He kissed her powerfully. "I love you too." He stood up and picked her up off the bench and into his arms, one hand holding her around the waist and the other under her legs. He started to carry her back to the bus stop, when she spoke again.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" She wiggled the fingers on her left hand at him.

"Oh, right." He beamed and put her down on the sidewalk. After getting back down on one knee, he pulled out the blue velvet box and put the ring on her finger.