Written for Miss Puppet, and using her lovely character Tim Wellington.

"What do you think about going on holiday?" he asked her, quite unexpectedly.

She sat up a little- her head had been resting on his shoulder, with his arm wound around her- and turned a little more towards him.

"I don't know," she admitted, "I hadn't thought about it, really."

"That's why I'm asking," he told her, "I'm overdue my two week's holiday by such a long way that it's getting ridiculous. Think about it now."

She smiled.

"It would be nice," she decided after a moment, "I'd like to go somewhere with you."

Though they had met for the first time abroad, their meeting had not set the precedent for the rest of their time together. Since then they had barely set foot outside of Yorkshire- alone or together. And, to bee quite honest, that had not bothered them one little bit. As long as they were together, it did not matter where.

"Where would we go, though?" she asked him.

"I don't know," he replied, "That's why I'm asking you. Wherever you want to go."

She paused for a moment, thinking. Wherever she wanted did not narrow things down very much. Eddie's choice of holiday destination had never been what you'd call exciting, or in any way sophisticated. If they made it abroad it was generally to a holiday resort in Spain, at a heavily discounted price. The thought of it still made her shudder.

They were quiet for a few minutes.

"We could go back to Hollywood," he told her, "If you wanted to."

She looked at him in surprise.

"Surely we don't have the money for that?" she asked, "Not if we're looking for a house."

"I think we could probably manage it," he replied levelly.

She considered for a moment.

"No," she decided, "Let's not go there. We have our memory for Hollywood. I doubt we'd find a better one than that."

He watched the profile of her face for a second, taking in her words and, after a beat, raising her hand, which he already held, to his lips and kissing it.

"Finding you," he said softly, his breath shuddering against her palm, "No," he agreed, letting their hands fall and kissing her forehead, "You're right, of course. No better memory."

He kissed her forehead once more, and then again. His breath danced on her skin, under her fringe, making her eyes fall shut in pleasure even before his lips touched her again.

"Tim," she elbowed him as softly as possible in the ribs, "How am I supposed to be able to concentrate when you're-..."

"Concentration is overrated," he murmured in her ear, and she had to move herself away from him in order to stop herself being completely drawn in.

"You asked me a question," she reminded him, pretending to be stern, "And I intend to answer it now."

"I don't mind," he told her, smiling, "You can tell me later."

She smiled back, barely suppressing a giggle, and then a second later, managed to say quite seriously, calmingly;

"Darling."

Her tone made him look almost sheepish.

"Sorry," he told her.

"Don't be," she told him squeezing his hand gently, "How could I ever mind?"

They were quiet. Now, they sat at opposite ends of the small sofa, their legs tangling a little where they met in the middle. He looked at her very clearly.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked again, his voice low and intent.

"Everywhere," she replied swiftly, "It feels like there's a world out there that I've been missing for years. There is, and I have been missing it. I want to go everywhere in the world with you."

She knew they couldn't- it stood to reason that if they couldn't afford Hollywood they certainly couldn't afford the world- and he knew that she knew; but still, without a moment's hesitation, he asked;

"Where first?"

"I don't know," she answered, "What about you?"

"Darling, this isn't about me," he told her softly, "I've seen my share of places, but I can remember you telling me quite distinctly that you hadn't had a decent holiday in years, apart from the trip for the calendar. So where do you most want to go?"

"Somewhere in Europe," she said finally.

"Not Spain?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Anywhere but Spain," she replied, "Or at least Eddie's interpretation of it."

They were quiet for a moment.

"You don't have to decide now," he told her.

"No, I'm enjoying thinking about it," she replied, "It's a very nice thing to do."

Her mind was running through everything- every glimpse in a travel agent's shop, every advert she'd seen in Celia's magazines, every advert on the telly that had made her simply yearn to go out and get on the next plane for somewhere warm and old and interesting. She had not thought anything like that since she'd been with Tim, and was oddly relieving and disconcerting to find how difficult it was to remember these thoughts from her former life. It was so far behind her now.

"Venice," she decided finally, "I'd like to go to Venice."

"Why Venice?" he asked her, curiously.

"I like the thought of all that water," she told him, "And the boats and the bridges and all of the old buildings. I've always thought I'd like to go there. Have you ever been."

"Yes," he replied, "Twice. I think you'll like it there. And I know a good hotel there too."

"Is it by the water?" she asked.

"Darling, like you say, most of Venice is by the water," he replied, "But yes, it looks out over the big stretch of water- the lagoon."

"It sounds perfect," she told him.

"We could go in a few weeks," he suggested, "That way it'll be warm there but not too hot; and it'll give me time to sort things out with work."

"Yes," she replied happily, "Oh, Tim, I'm so excited!"

He smiled back at her.

"I'm glad," he told her, "I'm very happy that it makes you happy."

For some reason, the silence that followed seemed heavily laden. With what she did not know. She felt that there was more he had to say.

"What?" she asked him, tilting her head a little to the side.

"I was wondering," he told her slowly, "If you'd consider making it a honeymoon."

There was silence. Then he was on his knees by the side of the sofa, at her feet.

"Ruth, will you marry me?"

Please review if you have the time.