Chapter 6

Morgendorffer/Lane loft

Boston, Massachusetts

One year later

She rolled over onto her side, watching him as he dressed. It's good to have him back home. I miss him when he tours, even though I get a lot of writing done.

Abbey, the little formerly stray cat, crawled back onto her, purring loudly.

"Where are we going again?"

"It's a surprise, I told you."

"No place formal, I bet," she smirked, watching him pull on the pathetic pair of sneakers he called shoes. "You must have a dozen pairs just like that hidden in the closet," she smiled softly. He was always so unconcerned with appearances, and the result was a kind of bear-in-its-natural-habitat effect that made Trent look like he was always just where he should be.

"Actually, just three. The wardrobe guys made some backups just like these. They said that the fans kinda expect to see me wearing these, but I wear them because I like them."

She stretched out her leg and poked her toe in a particularly noticeable hole, tickling the arch of his foot. "With the kind of money you're making now, I always thought you were just being cheap."

He looked at her and sighed. He sat on the bed next to her, scratching Abbey's belly as she claimed his lap. "Daria, is it important to you that I make a lot of money now? Does it define our relationship for you? I mean, what if it all went away?"

She sat up, looking into his eyes. "I don't know why you're asking this." She reached out and took his hand. "Maybe I'm not very good at reminding you how much you mean to me, and if so, I'm sorry. From my perspective, I love you for who you are and not what you're worth. You've done well because you're a talented guy who is passionate about the things you care about. I don't care that we have a funky loft in an old converted icehouse instead of a mansion in the Hamptons. I happen to love it, and I like a low-key lifestyle. If all your money went away, you'd find something else to do." She squeezed his hand.

He sat quietly for a long moment. "The only reason I got up the nerve to try for a serious relationship with you again was because I had finally proven to myself that I really could stand by your side. Not to take care of you, but…"

"I love you, you dope. I'll be by your side as long as you don't start buying instant coffee, or move us back to Lawndale. Between you and I, we'd always manage to at least get by. I make enough money to pay the mortgage, but you'd have to cover the food and utilites." She scooped the cat up and deposited her on the floor.

"We need to go," Trent groaned, looking at the digital bracelet she gave him for his birthday.

Awww, where did my slacker boy go? She smiled, swatting his ass as he stood, pulling the waist of his jeans down. She smiled as she snapped the elastic waistband of his lucky pair of Scooby-Doo boxers, a gag gift she had bought him seven years ago.

She rolled off the bed, narrowly missing stepping on her laptop. Living with Trent had definitely increased her tolerance for short periods of chaos, something that was balanced by his evolving need for organization. Abbey didn't help things, with her habit of dragging Daria's shoes and socks all over the loft. Quickly digging in her side of the closet, she came up with a pair of non-wrinkled tailored slacks and a decent cashmere sweater. At least the slacks weren't covered in Abbey's fur, and you couldn't tell with the sweater.

"My contract with the record label still has another two years to go," he said as the elevator shot silently to the thirtieth floor. 'Certain clauses need to be negotiated before my relationship to the label is restructured the way I want it to be. My lawyer agreed to let me bring in one hell of an attorney to handle the most contentious issues, and I just need to sign the papers. We won't be long, and then we can go out to lunch. We've got a guest."

They were guided through the lobby, past a row of dark wood-paneled offices, and into a large conference room. There were only a few people present, and one of them, a woman, stood nearby with her back to the door. The two lawyers on the opposite side of the table looked like they had been run over by a truck.

Trent stepped up to her, and whispered in her ear. He motioned Daria to join them. "I believe you two know each other," he half-smiled.

"Hello, sweetie, smiled her mother.

"Thanks, Helen," smiled Trent as their meals arrived.

"It was a rather complex negotiation, but it was for a good cause," she smiled at her eldest daughter and her boyfriend. "I can't believe you ordered lasagna, Daria," Helen laughed, shaking her head.

"Force of habit, " she smirked. "Besides, this is really excellent." She took a bite, having second thoughts as she watched her mother cut into her filet.

"Daria keeps a stash of lasagna in the freezer," Trent laughed, tucking into his mushroom and bison chili. "Comfort food for when I leave her at home alone."

"You're really done with touring?" Daria asked, not quite believing it. No more empty home for months at a time? No more redeyes, weekends in hotels, avoiding fans, cameras and reporters? "Dammit, I always forget about their chili."

Helen smiled happily as she watched the couple across from her steal off each other's plates."Trent is now CEO of Lane/Morgendorffer Creative Commons, with his former label a significant but still minority shareholder. We didn't have to buy out his contract, and he retains creative control over his own portfolio as well as for the new talent he signs."

"The recording studio in the icehouse is going to be expanded," Trent smiled, "but we'll still maintain a private residence on the top floor. Helen suggested Quinn's friend Annie's firm as the project architects, and I'd like you to take that part over, if you want to."

"Daria, you do realize that there was only one reason for Trent to make this change," Helen smiled softly at the couple. She raised her glass to them. "Love."

Daria flushed, turning to Trent. "Why did you ask if I would still love you if you didn't have any money?"

"He could have lost a lot of it. It was a big gamble, if he had to buy out his contractual obligations. Let's just say he put a lot on the line for you, Daria."

Trent said nothing, shifting in his seat as he reached into a pocket. "We've known each other for ten years, and of that time, I've been truly happy only that one sweet month years ago, and this last year." Pulling her close, he pulled out a small box, opening it carefully. Inside sparkled a pale green diamond engagement ring. He swallowed, nervous as a kid about to kiss a girl for the first time. "Daria, will you marry me?"

She said nothing for a frighteningly long time.

Finally, she responded with one word, quiet and tremulous, and wrapped in joy.

"Yes."

And you can wear whatever shoes you want, and I won't say a word.

Later that night, they lay in bed together, thinking about what was to come.

"Trent?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you mind if we actually have a wedding? It means a lot to my parents. My Dad's been itching to walk me down the aisle and formally get rid of me. We could keep it low key, just family, but I know my mom would want to have it somewhere other than our icehouse."

"Sure. Janey and Quinn would join the lynch mob if we didn't. I know it's kinda old fashioned, but I like the idea of making it official, and it doesn't have to be a normal wedding."

"Thank you," she murmured. I wonder if I could talk him into-

"You know, we could have a honeymoon in Paris."

She reached out and took his hand. "It doesn't have to be fancy, you know."

"You know a little hotel there, right?"

She smiled softly in the dark. "Yes. Very reasonable, too."

"Breakfast with friends included?"

"Of course."

"Cool."

A/N: requisite positive warm fuzzy ending as promised. Probably too long, and this is the end of this experiment. Thanks for sticking this one out.