"I got my mind set on you!" I sing along loudly with the radio as I dance around the kitchen, making the spaghetti sauce I intend to use for dinner tonight. Grabbing a wooden spoon, I use it as a microphone, grateful and yet a little disappointed that there's no one around to see my little impromptu performance. "But it's gonna take money, a whole lot of spendin' money! Yeah, it's gonna take plenty of money, to do it right, child!"

The radio switches off just as I'm wailing about patience and time, and a pair of arms slide around my waist. I feel a chin rest on my shoulder and the cool, worn leather of an eye patch against my cheek.

"Hey," Blink's voice says softly in my ear.

"Hey, baby." I lean back against his chest, smiling. "How was work?"

He grumbles something and presses his forehead into the crook of my neck. "Carrie tripped over a piece of the set and sprained her ankle today." He sighs and shakes his head. "And so I have to sit down and talk with her understudy, make sure she knows all the dances. I don't want to. I fucking hate this play."

Blink is choreographing a Broadway play – something we usually do together, we work almost exclusively as a team, but I got hired to do the choreography for a series of music videos, so we haven't seen each other much lately. Blink's taking it especially hard, and has been enjoying work less and less.

"It'll be over soon. You go on stage in what, three, four weeks?"

"Five. And even then it's not over. I still have to do tune-up rehearsals." He sighs again and brings his head back up. "What's for dinner?"

"Spaghetti." I grin and turn around in his arms, planting a kiss on his forehead. "You hungry?"

"Starving." He tilts his face up to mine and kisses me, smirking. "Just don't tell my actors that I'm eating it."

I laugh and nod. "My lips are sealed if you'll return the favor."

"Well, that'll put a damper on my plans for the night."

Shaking my head, I turn back to the cutting bored and start cracking garlic. "Why don't you fix yourself a drink and then maybe set the table for me?"

"Will do." He heads over to the liquor cabinet and starts mixing something. "You want one?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm cooking."

"Already making it."

"Well then, fine."

He laughs and pours two glasses, setting one on the counter next to me. "There you go."

"Thanks, Blink." Yes, I still call him by his high-school nickname, and it just so happens he calls me by mine. Mush. His is obvious, but don't ask how I got mine. I don't even know.

I take a sip and get back to cooking.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Once dinner is over and the dishes are cleared and loaded into the dishwasher, we settle down on the couch for a movie and some together time. Blink sits down with the remote and I lay down with my head in his lap, smiling up at him before turning to the television.

"So what're we watching?" I rest my hand on his knee, half out of intimacy and half out of getting the fabric of his slacks out of my way so I can see.

"The Machinist." Blink's hand finds its way to my hair, toying idly with it while the movie plays. He loves to do this, and sometimes, like probably right now, he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

"Ugh. This is such a weird freaking movie."

"Yeah, but it's good."

"But Christian Bale looks so gross in it."

"Mush, what does that have to do with the quality of the movie?"

"There's nothing pretty to look at."

He tugs sharply at my hair and I yelp, then laugh as I rub the sore spot on my head. Blink chuckles. "You can look at me, then. I'm pretty."

"That you are." I pat his knee.

This is how it's been for the past twelve, maybe thirteen years. Somewhere in between the sickeningly sarcastic banter and the vicious (and, admittedly, mostly stupid and pointless) arguments, we managed to fall in love and, by some fluke in the course of nature, stayed that way. It never ceases to amaze me.

We stay in silence for most of the movie before I suddenly turn onto my back and look up at Blink. It takes him a couple minutes to notice, but then he looks down at me and smiles a little. "Can I help you with something?"

"Can we talk?"

He picks up the remote and turns off the television, looking back down at me. "Is something wrong?"

"No," I say, smiling.

"Is this a serious talk?" He takes my hand, holding it. I squeeze it gently.

"Well, yeah."

"So what's up?"

I exhale nervously, looking up into his face. "What do you think about maybe having a baby?"

"I think the both of us are missing some pretty vital equipment for that."

"Blink, you know what I mean." I roll my eyes and shake my head. "Adopting. I want to adopt a baby."

He's silent for a minute or so. I'd never let him know it, but I'm completely terrified of what he's thinking. "Mush," he says finally, no readable expression on his face, "are you sure we're ready for this?"

I sit up, positioning myself next to him. "Well, we both make good money, we're on our feet, we've got a big enough place here, and we've been together for a really long time. I think we're stable enough."

"Well, we're stable enough to last, just you and me. But are we stable enough for a kid?" He wraps his arm around me, letting his hand rest warmly on my shoulder.

"Why wouldn't we be?" I look over at him, hoping that he isn't going where I think he's going.

"Honey, with as much as we work, we're never home. And when we are, we're either sleeping or working even more." He plants a kiss on my temple. "I just don't know if there's room in there for a kid."

"We can make room." I lean my head on his shoulder. "We can cut back on our workload a little. Maybe not do so many plays. We can alternate days, even." I sigh and wrap my arm around the front of his waist. "We can do this, Blink."

He's silent again. For a really long time. I close my eyes and brace myself for the letdown.

"You really want this, don't you?"

I lift my head and look into his eyes (or eye, if you're picky). "I really do."

Blink smiles. "Then let's do it."

Grinning, I tackle him on the couch and start kissing him all over his face. I never thought I'd get so excited about something like this, but there are few times in my life I can recall being any happier than I am right now.

"Easy, Mush." He laughs and turns his face to the side.

I laugh with him and start kissing his neck. "I love you, Blink."

"Love you, too."

Turning his face back to mine, I press my lips to his. "Thanks."