In their haste last night, neither one of them remembered to pull the curtains or close the blinds so the rising sun streams in through the window casting a bright, yellowy orange line across the clothes scattered across the floor, the comforter rumpled at the foot of the bed, and the arm slung across her upper body. She lazily, contently strokes her fingers across his forearm and smiles softly when his fingers twitch against her bare breast in response.

The reflex gives away his semi-awake state despite his deep, even breathing, and her smile widens as he nuzzles his face into her long and likely ratted brown hair with a contented sigh. Even after all these years, it is still a struggle to adjust to the alternations from day shift to night shift – or, in her case from late night study sessions to early morning examinations. Harder still to fight the zing of excitement coursing through her body over the fact that today is her first day as a board certified surgeon.

Jo squirms a bit against his embrace at the thought fighting the urge to roll over and remind him that she passed. Again. They had done plenty of celebrating last night: drinks at Joe's with Stephanie and the other attendings, frantic kisses and even more frantic removal of each other's clothes as they made their way to the bedroom, whispered congratulations as he left a trail of kiss down her stomach, and complete and utter refusal to address the question of where she'll finish up her education as her eyes rolled in the back of her head and her mouth fell open.

"Sleep," Alex groggily, gruffly commands as he loops his left leg over her right and palms her breast pulling her tighter into his embrace. Her smile widens at the sleepy tone of his voice; he sounds almost on the verge of suffering from that awful hollow, jangly feeling because, as he confessed to her during another bout of hollow jangles, he doesn't sleep well when it's his bed rather than their bed.

"I'm hungry," Jo whines rolling her head against her pillow just enough so she can make out the outline of his face in her peripheral vision. He grunts his displeasure mumbling something about having had enough to eat at three o'clock this morning, and his impertinence is rewarded with a jab of her elbow. Alex pretends to be deeply wounded by the jab releasing her from his embrace as he slides his hand back to protect his stomach, and she seizes on the opportunity to roll over in bed and face him.

"Oh, you big baby," she scoffs in laughter before placing a gentle kiss against his cheek. "Does the board certified surgeon need to take a look?"

"Too early for doctoring," he mumbles clamping his eyes shut tighter as the shift in her position allows the sunlight to hit him directly in the face.

"Too early for morning sex?" She questions as she presses another kiss to the corner of his mouth. And Jo lets out a cross between a squeal and a laugh as his hand immediately slides to cup her naked ass, as his eyelids fly open and he tries to angle his mouth to capture her lips with his own.

The sound escaping her lips becomes louder as he expertly and unexpectantly rolls onto his back pulling her on top of him so her legs straddle his and her naked chest is pressed up against his. And the sheet becomes a tangled mess around their limbs as he rolls them one more time so her bare back is pressed into the mattress and her hair is splayed out across his pillow.

Alex plants his hands against the mattress on each side of her face holding his weight off of her as he leans down to press his lips against hers. One kiss against her left cheek and then a trail of them as he slowly, torturously makes his way towards her lips, and Jo reaches up to loop her arms around his neck and hold him closer to her in response.

He had been so distant at Joe's last night, although the stolen kisses against her the line of her jaw and the mad dash home might have convinced some people otherwise. But she knows him. Knows how well he can dance around the elephant in the room; knows how the tightening of his jaw and the biting remarks directed at their friends and colleagues last night had been a classic Alex reaction to the fear of the unknown.

She runs her hands down his back slightly raking her nails against his skin as he moves to kiss and nip at the skin of her neck. And then because she can give just as good as she gets, she manages to hook her left leg around his and flip them so his back is pressed against the mattress instead of hers. He lands with an oomph of surprise, but his hands immediately go to her waist to steady her and he grins as she moves to interlace his fingers with hers and leans down to press her lips against his one more time.

"Doughnuts," she whispers as she hovers over him with her lips just inches from his and eyes that sparkle. The grin falls from his face as she pulls herself away, as she swigs her legs over the side of the bed and clutches the sheet to her naked body.

He groans as she bends down to retrieve the clothes they abandoned on the floor last night and stares incredulously at her as she tosses his jeans to him with the announcement that he's in charge of the coffee. And with a wicked, fake innocent glance over her shoulder, she allows the sheet to fall to the ground exposing bare back and ass before stepping into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind her.

After fishing the lacy, purple bra from the pile of last night's clothes she unceremoniously dumps on the bathroom floor, Jo slides her arms through the straps and reaches to hook the clasp at the front as she makes her way to the sink. Running her fingers through her hand, she curses both her failure to think her choice of clothing through – no way is going to squeeze back into her purple dress for a run down to Top Pot – and the tangle of mats from last night's rather vigorous exercise. Her brush and comb are in the suitcase she left out in Alex's car overnight so she does the best she can at pulling her long hair into a messy, high ponytail with only her fingers.

Realizing her toothbrush is also outside, she lets out a soft sigh as she bends down to grab Alex's t-shirt out of the pile. The gray t-shirt practically swallows her slender frame, although it barely skims against the bottom of her ass and, therefore, fails to completely hide the fact that she isn't wearing underwear.

With a smirk, she yanks open the bathroom door expecting to hear a torturous groan at her entrance. With an exasperated sigh, she trudges across the room towards the dresser at the sight of Alex still curled up in bed. His jeans have been tossed back onto the floor; the comforter has been pulled up over his head to block out the sunlight streaming in. She doesn't exactly tiptoe around their bedroom, but she's kind enough not to slam the drawers of the dresser as she grabs a pair of panties, jeans, and socks and even more careful to stay out of his reach as she rounds the bed towards the door after pulling all three articles of clothes on.

The bells hanging from the doorknob of their bedroom door jingle and jangle against the wood as she yanks open the door, and she's thankful for the inanimate object taking on the role of nag in their relationship. She doesn't need to be seen as the shrill one, the nagging one on today of all days.

The sound smothers both his groan of displeasure as he no doubt presses his face into the mattress and the sound of her stocking feet hitting the wooden stairs. Sweeping through the house, she snatches his keys off the floor in the entry way where they fell after he missed the side table and her jacket off the armchair in the living room pausing only to jam her feet into the pair of blue sneakers she left by the utility sink the laundry room a few nights ago.

She knows he will mock her ruthlessly for where she's about to go – although, she will be the first one to admit that "artisanal doughnuts" sounds ridiculous – but she needs him to call her 'princess' today. To engage in a little banter before she rocks the boat and, worst case scenario, ends up crying what are undoubtedly real tears.

Squaring her shoulders with determination, with grit that's gotten her through four years of making bad calls and never giving up on him and loving that jerk even when he cannot love himself, she turns onto the busy road leading out of the Queen Anne neighborhood and towards the nearest Top Pot Doughnuts shop.

The mid-morning traffic moves quickly – rush hour, thankfully, ended half an hour ago – leaving Jo with little time to dwell on her thoughts before she has to concentrate on finding a parking spot. A light, misty rain begins to fall by the time she reaches the front door of the doughnut shop, and there is barely enough room at the end of the line for her to stand inside the establishment rather than out in the rain.

There is always a line at Top Pot – dads and their rambunctious kids on the weekends, office workers wearing relaxed slacks and sandals on weekdays – and Jo cranes her neck around to crowd trying to determine if the shop still has powered doughnuts in stock.

She fishes for a twenty dollar bill out of Alex's wallet when she spots one of the workers carrying a tray of freshly made, powered doughnuts to the display case at the front of the store from the kitchen in the back. Her stomach growls at the sight; her mind waffles between buying six or an even dozen.

"Hey."

The voice startles her breaking her concentration and snapping her attention back to the people standing in line in front of her. She had reflexively taken a step forwarded assuming the person was trying to tell her that the line had moved, and she ends up awkwardly bumping into the office worker in front of her whose coworkers are clearly pretending not to watch their interaction.

"I've never been here before. Any suggestion on what's good?"

"Well, their seasonal doughnuts are good," she draws out in contemplation. "I also like their jelly ones, but my boyfriend prefers the powdered doughnuts."

"Oh, uh, thanks," the nondescript office worker replies as he turns back to his coworkers. The man at the counter asking for their orders masks his buddies' snickers and pronouncements that, of course, someone that hot has a boyfriend.

Jo shifts her weight from one foot to the other as she waits for them to wrap up their orders watching each of them to make sure they don't cart off all the powdered doughnuts, but she manages to snag the remaining half dozen slipping the cashier the twenty in her hand before slipping back out the door. The rain is coming down in droves now – an unusual occurrence for the Emerald City – and she makes the mad dash to the car clutching the box of doughnuts to her chest and feeling the water seep into her shoes.

Her hand sneaks into the doughnut box as she pulls out of her parking spot, and she lets out a groan of delight as she pulls up to the stoplight and bites into the doughnut. Powdered sugar clings to the corners of her lips, and she wipes the back of her hand across her mouth brushing the mess onto the hem of her jacket and the front of Alex's t-shirt.

Jo's fingers are coated in white powder as she pulls into the driveway of the house, and the four remaining doughnuts rattle around the box as she jogs up the steps to the front door. The white residue clings to the doorknob of the front door, and her wet shoes leave a small mark on the wood as she slams it shut – glass rattling – with her foot behind her. Jo half-expects to find Alex still asleep upstairs so she's pleasantly surprised when she finds him seated on the gray couch with his bare feet propped up on the wooden coffee table taking a drink from a cracked, red mug.

"Coffee?" She questions as she dumps the box onto his lap and begins kicking off her shoes. He passes his mug of coffee to her, reaches up to cup her ass under the guise of helping to stabilize her as she steps over his extended legs, and then flips open the lid as she takes a seat on the couch beside him.

"Top Pot," Alex mumbles as soon as he spies the distinct contents of the box, and he tosses her a pointed, teasingly exasperated look. "Artisanal doughnuts fit for a princess."

"Shut up, we're celebrating," Jo hushes as she shifts her body so her back is against the arm of the couch before taking a long sip from the mug. "And that's board certified Doctor Princess to you."

He mumbles something unintelligible as he takes a large bite out of a doughnut – powdered sugar clinging to his lips and spraying across the box in his lap – and she moves to tuck her feet in the gap between his leg and the cushion of the couch as she takes another sip of coffee and tries to psych herself up to speak. She's been racking her brain since the offers came in on how to bring this question – Boston or Seattle – up. She's freaked out, pushed it aside, and reasoned through exactly what she should say and—

"Marry me."

The words startle even her because they are not the ones she planned to say, although she did bat them around for the hour and a half she spent waiting at the airport for her flight back to Seattle. And Jo looks up with wide eyes to see Alex frozen mid-bite into another powdered sugar doughnut with a gaze that hasn't shifted to meet hers.

Suddenly, the room feels small and the air feels repressive and she has no idea what to say now because for some reason the words feel right. The love contract they signed was scary and stupid and she knows he promised that she can't count on him, but she knows that's not entirely true – he's gone nowhere but home with her for the past four years – and, more importantly, she wants him to count on her.

And she's trying to figure out a way to tell him all of this when he drops the half-eaten doughnut back into the box, pushes the box onto the couch beside her, and moves to stand. Her eyes prick with tears – the real ones, not the fake kind she employs to weasel her way into surgery – and she watches in half shock and half dread as he disappears into the foyer of the house.

"Alex!" Her voice wavers as she calls after him despite all the force and command she tries to inject into it, and her feet slide from the couch to the floor in preparation for her to follow after him when he returns distractedly rooting through his gym bag. "Alex, we have to talk ab—"

The words die on her lips as he yanks his hand out of the bag letting it fall to the floor with a thud and a triumphant look on his face. He still refuses to make eye contact with her as he returns to his seat on the couch, as he plunks the black, velvet box on the coffee table in front of her. Fight or flight begins to sink in with the realization that this is the kind of box an engagement ring is kept in yet Jo finds herself leaning towards it rather than away from it.

"How long have you had this?" She asks cautiously. Her concentration on the newly produced box barely breaks; her gaze shifts just long enough to see him shrug before snapping right back to the still unopened box.

"Awhile," he replies, and her mind races to quantify a while. She's good at math; she likes numbers. And the unmeasurable unit of time that 'awhile' encompasses makes the still healing hives on her back begin to itch again. Yet Jo is still leaning forward, still reaching towards the box, still yearning to see what exactly is inside.

Her fingers have barely brushed against the velvet before Alex's hand moves to block her, before he's clutching her hand and dragging her attention back to the man she just proposed to from the object he was going to use to do the same. Even after all these years, she struggles to read the expression on his face – a shred of fear, a glimpse of excitement, a whole lot of determination, and something else she cannot place.

"I've wanted to marry you for years, Jo, but we can't get married just because you're afraid to make a decision."

The words catch her off guard, but they finally clue her into the final emotion hidden deep within his gaze from those who take the asshole façade at face value: fear. And she tries to find the right words to allay this emotion because she's not good with grand speeches about love like he is – the moment at the barn that turned out to be a proposal, the moment at the bar that convinced her to sign the paper, the moment in front of the hospital that allayed her fears about not having a home or a bed.

"I love you," Jo promises softly. The words are weak compared to what he's said to her in the past, but she so rarely says them that he knows she means them, that he rewards her with a wide grin and a promise that he loves her, too.

"Which is why you need to decide. You want to go to Boston? Fine. Meredith and Derek made long distance work for two years. We can do one. You want to stay in Seattle and work in peds? Fine. We'll use fake tears on the new Chief of Surgery to scam our way into surgeries. But this is your career, Jo. Don't ask me to be the one who messes it up."

"Thanks," she sarcastically replies in response to his jab that she'll mess up her career. A long, pregnant pause fills the room as he watches her waiting for her reply, as she gathers up the courage to be honest with them both. "I want to go to Boston."

The announcement causes his lips to twitch downward for just a moment; a subtle movement that only those who know him as well as either she or Meredith do would ever catch. And she tries to swallow back the anxiety over his response as he breaks out into a smile, as she scratches her newly itching hives against the arm of the couch as she holds up a hand to interrupt his pronouncement that she should call New England Baptist and let them know.

"But, Alex, I want to marry you, too," she adds forcefully before the tears in the corner of her eyes begin to cloud her vision and her voice cracks with the slightest bit of hesitation. "We'll be together forever, right?"

And rather than verbally answer her, he releases his grip on her hand and reaches instead towards the black, velvet box sitting on the coffee table. Picking it up, he places it in her open palm and allows his actions to be his answer. And through tear filled eyes, she offers him an incredulously look in reply.

"A proposal usually involves a question," Jo pointedly informs him.

"Yours didn't," he reminds her with a smirk and shrug reaching to crack open the box and allow the square diamond set on a diamond incrusted band to distract her attention. "Goes well with that fancy watch of yours, Princess."