"What do you think about going to the new Mexican place for dinner?" He asks. She doesn't stir at all from her position at the end of the couch, or say anything in response. Her back sinks deeper into the throw pillows, her legs lazily stretch out onto his lap, and she appears to be deep in thought.

"Cindy? Did you hear me? Are you still thinking about how to put the fear of God into the imbeciles at work?"

Finally, she snaps out of it, and gives him a strange look, her emerald eyes oddly hazy.

"Do you think we make a good couple?"

Whatever he expects her to say, it is not that.

"Uh, where is this coming from?"

He anxiously wracks his brain. Has he forgotten some sort of important anniversary? Has he failed to do the dishes too many days in a row? Has he said anything remotely upsetting lately?

"Remember grade school?" Her eyes narrow. "You staged a whole magic show for your dream girl, Neutron." There's a slightly accusatory tone to her voice.

"In case you forgot, Vortex," He points to the diamond encrusted pearl ring on her finger, "We're engaged to be married."

"You never gave me a magic show." She pouts. "And you didn't try to ride a bull for me the way you did for Sally."

He rolls his eyes. "Cindy, that was aeons ago. I love you now. And I loved you then, I was just too stubborn to admit it to myself. Or you." He reaches out to gently touch her ankle in reassurance.

"Why didn't you ever want to impress me?" Her voice sounds small, and he wonders if this has more to do with her deeply rooted self-doubt than it has to do with him or his care for her.

"Cindy dear," A grin breaks out across his face, "Half the inventions I made were because of a bet we had or because of some trivial argument or just to prove you wrong. I was obsessed with impressing you."

"I guess you have a point." She offers him a smug smile. "Quinlan got Houdini, but I got the guy."

"That's one way to look at it." He grants.

"So...what will you be inventing next to dazzle me, Nerdtron?"

"Do upgrades to my time box count? I want to fast forward to the week after dinner with your mother. Assuming I'm still alive."

"Hey, if I can survive your dad talking my ear off about ducks and pie all of last Christmas, I think you can handle a couple hours with my mother." She jabs a toe at his chest.

He leans towards her, his body hovering over hers. "Can we skip the inevitable argument and go straight to the more pleasant part?"

"You just want to get out of inventing me something." She retorts playfully, pulling him flush against her. "You don't want to put in the work to stun me."

"Patently false. I'm about to put in some serious work." He reaches for her lips in one fluid movement."And you have my word that it'll be better than some lame fifth grade magic show."