'So… what do we do now?' Alexis asked, leaning gently on her elbows and looking up past Nigel's naked torso and into his eyes.

'What d'you mean, luv?' he countered, glancing past her eyes, rather crassly, to the love bites covering her neck and chest, and back up to her eyes again.

'Well… you said you would move to England with me… is that what you really want?'

Nigel thought about it for a moment, and, pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, murmured, 'As long as I'm with you. I've not been back in ages… maybe it's time I return to that little island 'cross the pond… return to my roots.' Alexis's face split into an enormous grin, and she pulled herself up to wrap her arms around him. For a moment, their still-naked bodies pressed up against each other, a reminder of the events of that morning, a whisper of what was to come. Nigel's heart skipped a beat as he felt her rub at her eyes, and when her fingers clutched at his skin again, he felt moisture. Sure enough, moments later, her shoulders started shaking slightly. 'Are you okay?' He started leaning away, wanting to wipe her tears away, to kiss her tears away, but she only held on tighter, her entire torso pressed up against his.

'Don't let go, Nigel. Please don't let go.'

He tightened his hold, and kissed her shoulder instead. 'I won't, luv. Not ever, if you don't want me to.' She laughed until he could feel her shake in hysterics. 'Breathe, luv. Remember to breathe.' That only made her laugh harder. 'What is so funny?'

'How awkward would that be? You trying to autopsy a body and you're holding on to me… me arguing in court and I've got you hanging off my neck…'

He started laughing, too, and soon they were giggling madly together, holding on for dear life. When they finally stopped, they both sighed simultaneously, until Alexis muttered, 'I love you, Nigel. Just… just remember that. Forever and for always.'

'I'll love you forever; I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living my darling you'll be.'

'Robert Munch.'

'Yeah.'

'Always loved that book,' she chuckled. 'But that still begs the question… what do we do now?'

She was met with a meditative silence.

'I don't know…'

In the end, Alexis convinced him to join everyone at the morgue, so she could get ready for the arrival of Jessica's parents later that day. He did not, however, let her go until she promised she would keep the door locked until she was ready to leave, and would not leave unless she had the concierge meet her in the hallway.

He rode to the morgue in a sort of daze, his mind still reeling on what had transpired – not only during the night, but over the past week. He had met a woman, an amazing woman, and had fallen in love. He was ready to give up his life in Boston and travel with her back to England, back to his home. Because, really, as much as he loved so much about Boston – the city itself, the people, the job… he had never really felt American. It had been a sort of stop over – albeit, a long one – before he moved on to something better.

He stepped through the doors of the morgue lift, his helmet under his arm, and he was assaulted by Jordan, who had just locked a gurney into place in front of one of the drawers. 'Nige!' she exclaimed, skipping over to him and wrapping one of her scrub-bearing arms around his neck. 'There you are, man, we were starting to get worried about you… is that the same shirt you were wearing yesterday?' Clearly, Bug had told her where he had been all morning.

'Yes, it is,' he sighed, removing himself from her arms. 'What's going on?'

'Seven car pileup TWT. Bug and Macy just left to get the last bodies,' she said lightly, waving the topic away as if it were of no importance. 'Isn't that the same shirt you were wearing yesterday?'

'I am somehow having a severe case of déjà vu,' he told her. He began moving towards the door and away to his desk to deposit his jacket and helmet.

Jordan, of course, followed.

'Oh, come on… there's a lull until the next wave of bodies get here – while you were in bed the rest of us were working out tails off: we were all cutting and stitching and whatever, so I'm in need of gossip. Are you really leaving us?'

He stopped in his tracks, only a couple paces from his desk, and swivelled around. What exactly had good ol' Buggles told her? He stepped backwards and collapsed into the hard office chair. 'Yeah. Or, at least, I thinkso.'

'So you really love her, huh?'

'Yeah. Yeah, I do.' His eyes met Jordan's and he smiled his too-big smile. 'I love her.' His eyes wandered, and he repeated it softer, as if tasting the words. 'I love her.' He looked up again, and grinned at Jordan as if he had just realized she was there. 'I love her, I really really love her.' He jumped up, and swirled her around, laughing out the words again and again.

'Woah, Nige, chill 'else she might get jealous,' Jordan laughed in turn, interrupting his tirade of proclamations. He stopped and hugged her close. 'Who are you, Tom Cruise?'

'I'll miss you, Jordan, luv, when I go – but you'll have to visit us.'

'For sure, Nige. I wouldn't miss your wedding for the world.'

Nigel froze, and held her at arms' length. 'Wait – what?'

'Wedding.' She spoke slowly, eyes widening emphatically, and nodding. 'You know – white everywhere? A gathering of family and friends? Marriage?... Drunk relatives making stupid toasts?'

'I know what a wedding is, Jordan.'

'Well, then?'

He released her, and sat down on his desk, gazing blankly at the floor. 'Marriage…'

'You are getting on in years, Nige,' she told him solemnly, leaning next to him. 'You're no spring chicken anymore. You should really think of settling down.' She received no reply, and she placed her hand on his back. 'Besides. You're moving in with her when you get to England, right? It's bound to come up eventually.'

'…Marriage…blimey…'

'And then children.'

'What?!'

'She wants kids, right?'

'…well, yeah…'

'So, that means that eventually, presumably soon 'coz you're not exactly young, you're going to have little Nigels and Alexiss in lacy little prams…' She was mock serious, using such British terms.

'What… why… I, uh…'

'Didn't you discuss any of this with Alexis?'

'Well, we, uh… we didn't really… um…' He shook his head rather violently, and repeated, 'Blimey… it's only been... she… I…'

Jordan clapped him on the shoulder, and said jovially, 'Oh come on Nige, you're fine. I was kidding… kinda. I'm sure she doesn't expect you to pop the question or anything right as you're stepping off the plane.'

Nigel couldn't quite believe himself. As Jordan spoke, he realized that, sure, he hadn't really thought about it thus far, but… what would marriage be with Alexis? And children?

He could answer himself in a heartbeat.

Amazing.

Absolutely bloody fucking fantastic.

'Don't tell Macy I was here, eh, Jordan?'

'Nigel, where are you -?'

'I have something I have to pick up.'

'Nige, I was kidding!'

'I'm not.'

He left her, then, grabbing his jacket and helmet off the desk. He didn't look back once.

Not even when he heard her laughing hysterically at his retreat.

'Might I help you, sir?' a snooty, French-sounding jeweller asked him as he wandered the cabinets. His unkempt appearance, consisting of his red-and-white leather jacket, worn black slacks, and thermal sweater over a slightly-too-large England t-shirt seemed to not quite endear him to the staff.

'Yeah, I'm, um, looking for an engagement ring,' Nigel told him, glancing around the cozy, yet sterile shop. Surrounding him were hundreds of precious stones and metals – and he was slowly but surely becoming rather intimidated by it all.

'Indeed. Well, what sort of engagement ring are you looking for?' His words were quite obviously meant to be more along the lines of, How much are you going to spend here today so I can get you out and move on to a more worthy -richer- client?

Nigel pondered for a moment, and told him, 'I'm looking for something with history. An antique. Nothing too plain looking either.'

'Right this way…' He motioned for Nigel to follow, and led him to the far side of the store where a large locked cabinet held a variety of pieces, from broaches to necklaces to cameos to rings. The gentleman retrieved a key from deep within the silk of his jacket – a sharp contrast to Nigel's leather – and slid it smoothly into the case. Reaching in, he pulled out a golden wedding band sporting a clear, sparkling emerald surrounded by tiny glittering diamonds. 'This one features an exquisite emerald, and a floral mesh embedded with a dozen diamonds. It is one of our more popular pieces.'

Nigel reached out to take it, and, rather reluctantly, the jeweller relinquished the piece. 'It is lovely… how much -?'

'Two thousand, two hundred and twenty.'

'Could I see something else? Maybe something a little more… unique?'

The jeweller grimaced, and reached back into the case, this time pulling out a large, rather extravagant ring consisting of two aquamarine - 'Beryl' – stones, and positively covered in diamonds. 'Circa nineteen ten, this Edwardian-inspired piece is seven thousand seven hundred and fifty dollars.'

Nigel bit his tongue, wondering to himself why he would want to spend so much on something that looked like a bodyless dragonfly, and asked, 'Perhaps not quite so unique… something smaller? Less… extravagant?'

Clearly concealing a sigh, the jeweller pulled out one last ring – and Nigel knew it was the ring.

'This one hails from the late eighteen hundreds,' the jeweller told him, seeing the look of awe spread across Nigel's face. 'It is eighteen karat white gold filigree… single oval ruby surrounded by thirty-six circle-cut diamonds.' He handed the ring over, and said, 'It's fourteen hundred ninety five.'

'That'll be debit – and could I get a nice box to go with it?'