Sorry I've been so slack this week, term ha started again and I've been super busy. I really hope you like this chapter- I wrote it in my head walking around London last weekend.

1996

It was a year since they had left Oxford; six months of training had passed before either of them could stop to think, and now they were six months into working in counter-terrorism. And, for what seemed the first time in that year, they were both at home at the same time when the sun was still out. It was Friday evening. Joe had got home first and made them both some pasta. They sat beside each other on their sofa as they ate.

As he finished his food, he looked at her pensively.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"Do you think we should look for somewhere else to live?"

"You getting sick of me, Molesley?" she asked him, half-joking. But she could not deny, the thought had nagged at her a bit. It was definitely intense, living together and working together like this. Some nights, if she had to stay later, she came home and found him flat out on the sofa, trying to wait for her, and she would decide that she preferred his presence to the comfort of a bed and curl up there with him. It was intense, but she didn't like the idea of coming home to an empty flat.

"What?" he asked her, surprised, "No. I mean, we should find somewhere together. Somewhere nicer."

She glanced across at him, studying his face.

"Oh right," she replied softly, "It's just, you know, us living together was only meant to be temporary."

And it had been, mainly because of the expense of them both living in London before they were on a full salary. That had been how they'd justified it to themselves so early in their relationship. The fact that it was infinitely preferable to every other possible arrangement in every way had also helped. They had taken this little flat above a shop, and had to massively haggle over the rent. But it had been worth it.

"I know," he told her, "But I think it works. I definitely don't want to stop."

She smiled at him softly.

"That's good," she replied, "I don't want to stop either."

There was a moment's pause.

"If we didn't there would be no one to wake you up in the morning," she pointed out, "And chase you downstairs to the tube station every day."

"That's true," he agreed, "Charles would be cross with me."

She grinned at him.

There was another silence.

"You realise if we find a place together, we'll be living together properly?" she asked him.

"As opposed to our currently very indecisive state of cohabitation?" he asked in reply.

She rolled her eyes just a little bit, snorting softly at his joke.

"It was only ever meant to be temporary," she reminded him again, wanting to explain herself, "We actually have separate bedrooms here."

"I don't think I've spent a single night in mine," he replied thoughtfully.

She smiled.

"You haven't," she told him.

She gave a wry sniff.

"We really fucked ourselves over when we were choosing this place, didn't we?" she remarked, rubbing her forehead a little with her hand, "We could have easily made do with the one bedroom."

"It would seem so," he agreed reluctantly.

Another pause.

He was looking at her very closely.

"Does it freak you out that we're going to be living together for good after we've only been together a year?" he asked her gently.

She sat and thought about the question seriously for a moment.

"No," she replied, then, "I think it freaks me out that the idea itself doesn't freak me out-…"

He laughed gently.

"I love you," she told him softly, "I like living with you. I want to keep living with you. For good."

He was grinning. He didn't seem to be able to help it. It made her smile too.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied, "I'm just thinking how happy I am. And it's not too soon," he continued, "To me it feels right."

She nodded.

"Yes it does," she replied, happily, thoughtfully, "It feels right that we stay together, for as long as we can."

"If I didn't know you better, Baxter, I'd say you were asking me to marry you."

Somehow, she wasn't shocked that he said it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the thought had been popping into her head with increasing frequency of late. His eyes settled on her face, and seemed to widen.

"Do you want to get married?" he asked her in astonishment.

"Would it be a terrible thing if I did?" she wondered out load.

"To me?" he asked, his voice raising, making her laugh in spite of herself.

"Well, not to anyone else."

He was silent for a few moments, seeming to think very hard.

"Alright," he declared after a moment, very confidently, "Let's get married!"

"What?" she asked, very taken aback, "Have you gone mad?"

"It was you who just suggested it!" he told her defensively.

"I just asked if it would be so bad if I'd thought about it!" she replied.

They were quiet for a few moments.

An amused smile flitted onto her face.

"Did you really just ask me to marry you?" she asked him.

"Actually, I think I told you we were going to get married," he replied. He looked almost shellshocked by the exchange.

She burst into hysterical laughter. He looked at her incredulously for a moment before he broke down too; leaning against her, clasping his hand to his side as he laughed too.

"I think we're both overtired," she suggested, her laughter not quite waring off yet.

"Probably," he agreed.

She settled her feet on the floor and he lay back against her legs, resting his head in her lap, looking up at her.

She waited a beat, biting her bottom lip, gazing down at him. It felt so right.

"I think we should get married," she told him.

"What? But you just said I was mad a minute ago," he reminded her, "When I told you the same thing."

"I don't care if you're mad," she told him, "If we're both mad. I love you."

He was staring up at her, blinking slowly. Her hand softly brushed his cheek.

"We don't have to do it straight away," she told him softly, "But I want to, one day. I want to marry you. I hope that's alright."

"Of course it's alright," he replied gently, looking plaintively up at her, "I think it's a very good idea."

The corners of her mouth perked upwards.

"Good," she replied softly.

"This is probably the craziest thing we've ever decided to do," he pointed out very very calmly.

"Shit, you're right, it is," she agreed, "And we joined the security services. Fucking hell," she breathed, "This is insane."

But she was grinning. She was beaming broadly.

"But you've always been insane," he told her, still gazing up at her, "Brilliant, beautiful-… but deeply unsettled. And I really want to marry you."

She looked down at him, her eyes wide, wanting to take the whole of him in.

"Do you?"

"Yes, more than anything."

Bowing her head down, her mouth met his and she kissed him deeply, tenderly.

Please review if you have the time.