The next few weeks went by in a flourish of activity. Jessica's parents arrived that afternoon, and Alexis was up all day getting them settled, and reuniting them with their daughter. When night came, she returned to her hotel, where Nigel was waiting after picking up an assortment of clothing from his own apartment. They were both so exhausted they simply changed into their pyjamas and crawled into bed, Alexis's small frame enclosed in Nigel's protective grasp.

This was their routine for the next six weeks; both of them working – Alexis in the courts, Nigel in the morgue – their paths crossing occasionally as the Whithalls retrieved their son; while the police conducted their investigation. They had drinks in front of the fireplace; they ate lavish dinners in the dining room. They spent all their free time together.

And still the engagement ring lay nestled in the folds of Nigel's coat pocket, his heart skipping a beat whenever his long ivory fingers brushed against the smooth velvet box.

The court dates for the man who had kidnapped Jessica and Alexis (always so amusing considering they had been best of friends – like their parents had known they would get together all along and named them accordingly) came and went quickly, as all parties involved wanted to return to their homelands. Guilty was the verdict, and soon, plans were being made for Jessica's trip home, and the day finally came when Nigel would be stepping on a plane to return to the island he fondly referred to as home.

Nigel wasn't sure whether or not he would be coming back to Boston after he whisked Alexis off to the other side of the Atlantic, so he decided that he would simply ask Dr Macy for all the days off he had compiled over the last ten years – which amounted to almost two months straight off. Macy agreed, but still began looking for a replacement. Just in case.

Their final night in Boston, Alexis booked a large table in the dining room of the hotel, and morgue staff and members of the BPD alike sat down to break bread, the morgue staff eyeing both Nigel and Alexis warily, wondering if tonight was the night when Nigel would pop the proverbial question – clearly, Jordan told had everyone about the box in his pocket.

'There was blood everywhere!' Jordan was exclaiming from her side of the table upon seeing the gentleman at the next table squirm at his dining partner's undercooked steak. 'I mean – it was coming out of every hole in his body – and then some!'

'Jordan, come on, this isn't funny!' Woody was shushing her frantically, practically begging. 'I'll give you anything, Jordan, please.'

'Man, you shoulda seen it! The pool was supposed to be empty – but it was almost ankle deep in blood, I swear. Nige had to take the photos for the scene - he had to roll his jeans up and take off his converses, eh, Nige?'

Nigel laughed, and replied jokingly, 'I dunno – the case down in Florida was pretty bad – remember when that crock got a hold of that rather obese gent? Couldn't sleep for a week after that one.'

'Oh, man, tissue everywhere!'

This, incidentally, was when the man had begun to turn a rather iridescent shade of green and ran, holding a napkin to his pale lips, to the restroom.

'That was just cruel,' Alexis chided them, laughing along with the rest. 'He'll never be able to eat anything red or jiggly ever again!... neither will I, come to think of it…'

The table burst out into laughter again as their plates arrived.

By dessert, Nigel was beginning to notice distinctly the fleeting glances he was receiving from his coworkers. Even the newest member of the team, Dr Kate Switzer, was eyeing them with a wary expectation. He crossed his long fingers under the table, hoping Alexis didn't notice.

'What was that about?' Alexis asked him after they had all said their goodbyes and headed upstairs, well after midnight. 'Everyone was giving you funny looks all night.'

'I – um – they still don't know if I'm coming back and they thought I was going to announce my plans tonight.'

'Oh…' she muttered, shrugging and sliding over the couch. The red, gauzy dress she wore shifted as she put her legs up onto the plush couch, her stiletto sandals resting on the back. 'So. We have a few hours until we have to leave for the airport…'

'Indeed we do, luv…' he chuckled, moving closer.

'And I, for one, have been feeling rather warn too thin, what with being bombarded by people the past few weeks…'

'Couldn't agree more…' He smiled, and sat down beside her, his slim hips fitting easily on the couch beside hers.

'So I say we take advantage of being alone for the next…' She checked the clock. '… four hours.'

'What are we to do for four hours, alone in a hotel room?' She smiled wickedly and shrugged, her wildly curling hair framing her face, her eyes never leaving his face. Nigel brushed his finger languidly against Alexis's smooth olive skin, and followed the neckline of her bodice deeper, running his hands, finally, to rest on either side of her hourglass waist.

'I say we have some fun.' Sitting up, her lips met his gently, teasing him. She pulled back, and wriggled out of his grasp, moving to stand in front of him. 'I've been dying to get out of this thing all night,' she whispered, bending over so her words tickled his neck. She pulled the straps down, and in one swift movement, stood before him in nothing but a lacy corset-and-boy shorts set, her stilettos, and a wicked smile.

'Love, you look fabulous…'

They arrived at the airport, five hours later, exhausted and content.

'Thank heavens for first class,' Alexis muttered amusedly, watching Nigel stretch his legs out before him on the plane. 'If we had to fit you into coach, your legs would take up two seats alone!'

'They would not. They would take up three, the way they cramp the seats together. I should know – it is how I got here in the first place on a student's salary. Should've seen me – I was almost bent in half.'

'There's quite a bit of time until takeoff, ma'am,' a stewardess said in a gentle British coo. 'Champagne?'

'Water?' Alexis countered with a smile.

'Evian?'

'Dasani?'

'Of course. And for you sir?'

'Could I get a cup of tea, please?'

'Of course – green, Orange Pekoe, or Earl Grey?'

'Couldn't get a London Fog, could I?'

'Straight away, sir.' And with that she strode majestically away.

'London Fog?' Alexis asked, tilting her head to rest on Nigel's shoulder.

'Earl Grey with steamed milk and sugar,' he told her, touching the top of her head with his lips. 'You should try it.'

'I think I might've had it before, actually… maybe I will. I mean, after this darn Boston weather I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to get something warm in me.' She gestured out the window to where it had begun to rain.

'Not,' Nigel hissed in her ear, 'that you've not had anything warm in you lately.'

Alexis's body flushed profusely, and he heard her heart speed. 'No mile high club, thank y-'

'Your drink, sir – and ma'am I took the liberty of preparing one for you as well.' The stewardess had slid up to them again and was resting their drinks on a small table situated before them.

'Thank you,' Alexis nodded, smiling beneath her blush.

'Are you alright, ma'am? First time flying?'

She blushed deeper, and her eyes flitted over to Nigel, who was attempting to contain a laugh. 'She's fine,' Nigel told her, pinching Alexis's chin. 'She's, ah… she's pregnant, that's all.' Alexis jumped in her seat, and smacked Nigel's hand playfully.

'Oh! Congratulations! And me bringing you tea – isn't caffeine bad for the baby?'

'Once in a while is alright,' Nigel told her as Alexis subtly slipped one of her rings onto her left hand.

'Are you -?'

'Oh, yes.' He smiled jovially, and kissed Alexis's hand (which now bore a silver ring with two small diamonds and a pearl). 'We're terribly excited.'

'Well, congratulations to both of you. If there's anything I can get you, please, let me know.' She offered one last smile, and left then, Alexis glaring daggers at Nigel.

'Pregnant?' she whispered frantically, barely contained.

'Well, would you have rather told her you were turned on?' he muttered in her ear, giving a quick peck to the base of her neck.

'I would've rather said I was excited to get back home… or in love… or I was fine. But pregnant?'

'Well… now we'll get exceptional service because we're new parents.'

'We're in first class. We'd get exceptional service anyways. And we're not new parents!'

'So imagine how much more exceptional we'll have.' He put his arms around her and held her close. 'Would you rather me call her back and tell her the truth?'

'I – that's not…' She stopped, shook her head, and sighed. 'Well…'

'That's my girl.'

Nigel had been right – their flight was the cushiest either had ever experienced. Every little while, the flight attendant would come over to ensure they were comfortable. At one point, Alexis was sure the woman was flirting with Nigel so he would remember her when the time came that Alexis was fat from the pregnancy.

'I swear she was hitting on you!' she laughed, poking him gently in the stomach as they strode out into Heathrow airport. 'She's getting ready to move in on you when I'm no longer attractive enough to be a trophy wife!'

'Ah, but you'll always be attractive enough to be a trophy wife! The question remains whether or not I'll ever be rich enough to have a trophy wife.'

'You're older than me… that's probably why she thinks that's what I am – your little American tart whom you've brought back to England to culture and get ready to bring another little half-bread English lord into the world.'

'Always remember – lie back and think of England.' He glanced out the window and stopped, looking out over the tarmac to his homeland – where, he noticed, it was drizzling – just like the day he had left.

'But England's not half as attractive as you.' She whispered the last bit, her hot breath tickling his throat. She smiled at his non responsiveness, and rested her head on his side, (not being tall enough to reach his shoulder). Wrapping her arms around his hips, she asked quietly, 'How's it to be home?' giving his waist a gentle squeeze.

His heart swelled with remembrance at the place he had left – deserted, really – and thought of all the good times he had had in the heart of London as a boy, clubbing and partying, exploring and learning. 'Good… it's… it's good.' He wrapped his arm around her shoulder again and kissed her temple briefly. 'It's weird, being back. Since I've left, it's almost felt like I don't know anything about the old girl anymore – that's why I've not come back… but… but look out the window. It was just like this when I left – you know, raining. It's as if I've only been gone a few minutes.'

'You can take the Brit out of Britain, but not Britain out of the Brit.'

'God Save the Queen and all that.'

'Amen,' she laughed with a sigh as her arms tightened their hold and she pressed her lips briefly to the soft cotton of his sweater; the only part of him she could reach. 'Amen… and welcome home.'

'So, here's my humble abode. It's not Buckingham, but I think you can see it from the attic if you squint.'

'Wow…' Even just walking thought the door, Nigel could see how beautifully decorated the house was. Original pieces of artwork graced the walls, everything coordinated to bring them to life. Her style seemed to describe every essence her – classic pieces with shots of modern colouring; conservative, with little flares of passion. A regular décor critic he was. 'So, my love,' he told her as she tipped their chauffer, 'local time is four pm; our body clocks are on eleven. What say we head out for tea – or, lunch, as it were?'

She glanced into the living room where the answering machine was blinking impatiently up at her – and dropped her cell phone beside it. Picking up a large red umbrella from a hook beside the door, she linked her arm through his and said jovially, 'I'm ready – let's go.'

They walked through London for hours – well past the time the sun fell behind the London Eye, and the streets were derelict but for the odd Thursday night clubbers and graveyard shifters. As they walked, they pointed out the bits of the city which they most frequented – some of which were the same; some which had never been there in Nigel's time; some which had opened in time for Alexis. Occasionally they would pass a small café with live performances, and they would sneak in to listen. One featured a Canadian jazz artist whom Alexis loved. They sat for almost an hour sipping honest to goodness English tea – Nigel with honest to goodness English ale – 'They don't make it like this in the ol' U.S of A!' – murmuring in lovers' tones. When they left, Alexis with a signed CD in her oversized coat, the streets were almost completely, blessedly empty; the only sounds were of their echoing laughter, and the clicking of Alexis's heels.

'Oh, this has been the loveliest night, hasn't it?' Alexis sighed as she skipped along, almost childishly, beside Nigel's liquid steps. 'Oh, Nigel, thank you for coming with me!' She reached her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a long, romantic kiss beneath an antique-looking streetlamp. 'I do so love it here.' She twirled like a ballerina, holding one of Nigel's hands in her own as she spun.

Nigel watched her dance for a moment, her hair flying out around her, her eyes dancing with a youthful exuberance. Once she stopped, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her hair. 'I do love you so, Alexis, my dear,' Nigel breathed into her hair, holding her close. 'I wonder, though, if we couldn't take some time to be serious.'

She looked up into his eyes, and tilted her head in that way she had, encompassing everything about her into one small movement. 'Serious?'

'Well – not serious. I'm just curious about something…' He paused, and smiled when her eyebrows rose in expectation. He touched the tip of his nose to hers and said, 'Well, about the future.'

'Ah! The future…' she smiled, eyes shining.

'Yeah. I mean – I'm here, and well… I love you, Alexis. I would go to the ends of the ocean for you.' Nigel smiled, and she smiled back, uncertainly now, and tilted her head the other way. He didn't need her to tell him – he could see how much she loved him by the sparkle in her eyes. 'It's been an amazing few weeks, luv. I mean – after everything that's happened it's like… it's like I know you, everything about you. Your strengths, weaknesses, and everything in between. But I don't know your plans for the future. Not all of them, anyways.'

'Ask me anything, Nigel.'

'Well, what're your views on children?'

She smiled, and said, 'Two. Boy and a girl, hopefully.'

'Marriage?'

'Yeah, of course.'

'To me?'

Not realizing what he had said, it took her a few moments for her mind to comprehend the question. '… excuse me?'

Making his decision, he knelt before her, and from his pocket pulled out the small velvet ring box. He clipped it open, and looked deep into her eyes. 'I love you more than I've ever loved another, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, my love. Will you, Alexis Edwards, do me the honour of being my wife?'