"Baby says she's mine, you know. She tells me all the time you know. She said so." I Feel Fine, the Beatles -Shemily-
I Feel Fine, 2:17
He'd asked her out. Finally. Well, again.
He steps from the plane and heads for baggage claim.
"Sheldon!" Emily cries, open arms held out to greet him.
He laughs, and runs to her, sweeping her into his arms and spinning her around.
"Stop, stop," she urges with a giggle.
A camera flashes to their right.
"Oh, great," Emily mutters. "Sheldon Schlepper, welcome to my life. Let's run."
"Run?"
"Yes. Paparazzi," she points to a man in a trench coat. "You get used to it. Let's go."
She leads him to a car, her heels clicking against the marble tiles as she walked away quickly.
"Ms. Davis, Emily!" the man behind them yells.
"Walk faster, Sheldon."
He hurries after Emily.
She nearly dives into the car and grabs his suitcase. "I am glad to see you, Sheldon. I'm so sorry about that."
"What can I say?" he slides into the seat beside her. "You're a celebrity. It must be normal for you."
"Normal is a matter of perspective. I've missed you."
"Did you mean it?"
Emily smiles. "Mean what?"
"That you want love?"
She blushes. "Yes."
"From someone who proposed?"
"Yeah," she snorts embarrassedly.
"Then, Emily Davis, will you marry me?"
"Are you serious?"
"As serious as I was the first time. I still love you."
"Then, yes!"