"A Modest Proposal"

by Bleu

"This show is cute."

"Yeah, but will it last?"

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know. Seems a little too good to be true. I mean, how many single, early 20s people with menial jobs do you know live in huge, colorful lofts in the Village?"

"I'm sure I could find some."

"Only on NBC."

"Fine, I'm turning it off."

"You didn't have to, I was just saying."

"It's all right, I think it was over."

"Good, I'm exhausted."

"Webber still giving you the run around?"

"As always. I think he's Hell-bent on making me some sort of project."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Just a feeling I get when he pages me for the most desperate, hopeless cases and then makes me kill myself to try and save them when he and I both know it will never happen. I think he's trying to break me."

"I think…he's got a greater plan."

"…What's wrong?"

"What makes you think anything is?"

"Well, for one thing, we just laid in bed in the dark for an entire five minute period and you haven't touched me."

"You said you were exhausted."

"I am, but usually that doesn't stop you from trying."

"I'm not some hormone driven teenager in the back of his father's car."

"No…but we're not an old, dried up married couple yet, either."

"…Do you want to be?"

"What? Old?"

"No…married."

"Seriously?"

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because...wait…were you serious?"
"I think so."

"You think so? What does that mean?"

"It means, I don't know…It means…"

"What?"

"It means you are impossible."

"Oh okay. Well…if that's all it means then I'm going to sleep."

"Okay."

"…Where are you going?"

"Just listen."

"Honey you, are the rock…"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"…upon which I stand."

"You already ruined my first attempt, so will you just let the music play?"

"And I've come here to talk, I hope you understand…"

"Your first attempt? So you were serious?"

"…that Green Eyes, the spotlight shines upon you."

"Shhh!"

"I came here with a load, and it feels so much lighter now I met you."

"Shushing me during your proposal is not exactly a good way to get me to say yes. And, my eyes are hazel."

"And honey you should know, that I can never go on without you…"

"At this point I just want to complete the gesture. The answer is becoming less important. And they're not hazel. They're green. I look at them more than you do."

"…Green Eyes."

"So if I said yes?"

"And honey you should know, that I could never go on without you, Green Eyes…"
"Then…I'd be the happiest, luckiest..."

"Green Eyes…"

"Would you turn the Coldplay off and kiss me?"

"Green Eyes, you are—,"

"…Much better."

"So is that a yes?"

"Yes what?"

"Will you marry me, Addie?"

"Oh, that. Yes, Derek. Of course."

Credit: Lyrics, the stuff in italics, from "Green Eyes" by Coldplay.

The title is actually the title of a satirical essay by Jonathan Swift that has absolutely nothing to do with my story. In reality, Swift's essay actually concerns eating Irish babies. But I couldn't think of a proper title so…there you go.

Oh how I love writing one-shots. Especially about pre-Seattle Addek.

Enjoy.