Author's Note: Last Installment of this story. (Sequel already in the works…)

"Merri-"

"What?" She asked, as she got a leg over her lover and settled onto his lap. It was almost always pleasant waking up in bed with Chris LaSalle, but she was in a spectacularly good mood this Sunday morning, wasn't exactly sure why, and also didn't care. Maybe it had been the sex the previous night. But it was always quite good, even those times when her own pleasure wasn't central, because she loved pleasuring Chris more than she anticipated achieving her own orgasm at his touch.

"Merri-"

She cut him off again, this time by sticking her tongue in his mouth. His natural taste had gone a bit sour with morning breath, but she could only manage to be a little put off by it, because his mouth was also warm and wet and his tongue playfully teased hers, his body equally warm and pleasantly solid beneath her thighs and buttocks, and hands as she braced herself against his chest, let them wander over the muscles of his torso, enjoying the strength of him.

She moaned in dissatisfaction and frowned as his hands moved from cupping her face to her shoulders and he gently but firmly pushed her away, pinning her with a serious gaze. Her stomach developed a little knot. Was he unhappy with her for some reason? She couldn't remember arguing with him about anything... yesterday, anyway. They had such differing tastes that they often found themselves possessing opposing opinions, but it tended to be about things such as which state the best rib eye came from, or what paired better with said cut of beef, a cab-sav or a porter. Maybe they'd been spending too much time together and he was ready for a break, about to tell her that they needed to slow down a bit, give themselves space to breathe. Oddly enough, for once in her life, Merri didn't want to pull in the reins, didn't want to hold back anything.

"Mer-"

"Yes?" She'd been feeling so light that she was giddy and she didn't want the heady, blissful sensation to go so quickly. And Chris did look quite determinedly serious, sighing heavily and giving a little frustrated growl over her continuous interruptions.

"Would ya please just listen ta me for a minute?" The words exploded out of his mouth with an edge that unfortunately killed her good mood instantly.

She bit the inside of her cheek, removed her hands from her lover's body, pulling the loose sheet up around her as if it might protect her from the wound she anticipated was coming. Why did she have to always think the worst? There was no reason...

Chris closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opened them and stared at her, into her in that piercing way of his. She would miss staring into those deep blue eyes as he settled inside of her, filled her.

"What I been tryin' ta say... What I been tryin' ta ask... Is, Meredith Brody, will ya marry me?"

Had time just frozen. Or maybe it was her. But she found herself shocked into complete immobility for several seconds. And then she laughed, her heart feeling so light that she wasn't sure it hadn't somehow managed to escape her body altogether.

"Oh, Marry. Not Merri," she said, when he was giving her a confused, somewhat disappointed look, not unlike a kicked puppy. "I thought you were saying my name, not-"

She leaned down, taking his face in her hands and kissed him fiercely, sloppily, resting her forehead against his when the embrace broke.

"I love you, Chris," she said. "I sincerely do. But how do we know it's not just the infatuation, passionate affair kind of love? How do we know it's the lifetime kind of love?"

"I know," he said. She couldn't help it. She gave him an incredulous look. He winked at her. "Because, darlin', ya ain't perfect."

She punched him in the chest, mostly playful, but a little bit not. She didn't interrupt him however, because she knew what she felt for him was unlike how she'd ever felt about anyone else, including James, whom she had actually agreed to, was going to, in point of fact, marry.

"We bicker over stupid stuff, but always seem to make up," he said. "Ya can be a bit of a know-it-all and a wine snob. Ya rearrange my kitchen pantry alphabetically even though you know I have it the way /I/ like it and that it bothers Cade when ya do it. But there's that bit of OCD in ya so 's ya jus' can't help doin' it. Ya steal the newspaper and do all of the puzzles with a pen so dark I can't read the articles on the other side. You're a bed and blanket hog. And ya snore."

"I don't snore!" Merri said, blushing, feeling both indignant and happy about the list of flaws her lover was reciting. Because no one actually liked to acknowledge their faults. But at the same time, Chris had noticed all of these things about her, experienced all of these drawbacks and yet still claimed to love her, wanted to marry her.

"Ya snore like a big ol' bear if ya drink more than two glasses of wine." He grinned broadly at her, his hands resting on her flanks, his thumbs rubbing her hipbones.

"Well, you're not perfect, either, Mr. Hayseed-accent-so-thick-I-sometimes-don't-understand-a-word-coming-out-of-your-mouth," she said, placing her hands on his chest again, letting the sheet fall away from her naked body as she leaned forward, staring into his deep blue eyes. "You drag me to the dirtiest, noisiest dives in the city because you think they're fun even though you know they're not my scene. You eat horrible junk food, leave a trail of crumbs and lego blocks wherever you go. You put off doing your laundry just a little too long. And I hate to break it to you, but that varsity football t-shirt Cade gave you in high school literally is infested by mold and needs to go."

"Never gonna happen," Chris protested with a smile. "But ya still love me, don't ya?"

Merri was returning her lover's stupid-happy smile. He'd certainly proven his point.

"Yes, I still love your elephant-tattooed ass," she said, leaning in for a long languid kiss that had them moaning and grinding against one another, and completely breathless when they broke apart.

"Well?" He cupped her face, searching her eyes with his eager blue ones.

"We might just work," Merri said, her heart fluttering in a mixture of excitement, pleasure and anxiety. He'd left 'commitment-phobe and 'has a tendency to run away before those she cares about leave her' out of his list of her character flaws. "But I think we should try moving in together first."

"My place or yours?" His eyes lit up like those of a kid in the candy store.

"Ours," she said. "We should find a new place, just right for us."

"Our own place," he repeated, seeming to feel out the words as well as the idea. "I like it."

He tugged at her waist, lifting her off from him and slipping out from beneath her to roll out of bed.

"Chris, where are you going?" She was utterly confused. Honestly, she thought they might have a little morning sex, or at least fool around in bed on the lazy Sunday.

"Ta find our place," he said, pulling on yesterday's jeans, which were really last week's jeans. His laundry was overdue. What a surprise there. "C'mon. Let's go."

"Hold your horses," she said and he chuckled at her expression.

"It was your idea." She was kneeling on the edge of the bed and he took a few steps over to lean down and kiss her, one of those tender and affectionate embraces that made her close her eyes and lose herself. Oh, please, more of that. She didn't want to get dressed and be towed about town by an over exuberant man-child (yes, man-child whom she loved). "C'mon."

She blinked her eyes open when something soft hit her in the face... It was a sundress she'd worn over to his place, what, a month ago? She was wondering where it had gone... It smelled like his pile of dirty clothes. She hastily threw it back onto the bedroom floor like it were a smallpox blanket.

"I see several problems with your plan," she said in her serious 'interrogation' tone, which made him stop picking up various shirts and giving them the sniff test, most of which appeared to fail miserably if his expressions had been any indication. "Although you get major points for the go-get-it attitude... One: Shouldn't we call a realtor or check the paper first?"

"We can do that before we leave."

Merri only raised an eyebrow, which silenced him. She wasn't done yet.

"Two: It's Sunday. No one goes searching for an apartment or a house on a Sunday. Which brings me to Three: We probably need to discuss the criteria we want for our home first."

Chris opened his mouth. Shut it. Shrugged in acquiescence.

"And most importantly, Four: I don't want to get dressed and run around town and Five: You stink, 'Bama Boy. I love you, but you need a shower."

He nodded his head as if in serious contemplation of her argument, slowly making his way back towards where she was sitting on the bed.

"Fine," he said, announcing the conclusion of his considerations. "I'll shelve my premature exuberance in exchange for a shower."

Merri sighed in relief, and was about to flop back down onto the mattress and snuggle in for some serious morning laziness, but his eyes flashed, warning her that he wasn't done.

"If-" he continued, claiming her whole attention to hear his terms. "Ya join me an' wash my back for me." Yeah, right. Wash his back. She knew what he really meant. And she was more than amenable to that. She reached for him, circling her arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss to seal the deal. But he resisted briefly.

"And ya promise that we'll start lookin' at places tomorrow."

Merri grinned broadly.

"You got a deal, Christopher LaSalle."

"Do I ever, Meredith Brody."

And then he was kissing her like he were promising a thousand more, that he'd never stop kissing her, loving her. Oh, the One Time Only Deal she'd made with him, it had certainly backfired on her. It was still a One Time Only Deal... just for Lifetime.

END

A/N: Well, these two just turn me into utter sappy, cheesy mush, don't they?

A/N2: Stay tuned for the sequel. ;-)