I was exhausted by the time Frank got me home Friday night. He was the perfect nurse, helping me clean up, slip into a nightgown, and get into bed. I wanted a shower, but that was off limits with the bandaging. Frank promised to help me wash my hair the next morning. I looked forward to it. The last thing I remembered was him crawling in bed with me, and telling me he loved me. Between the exhaustion and the pain medication, I pretty much crashed the minute my head hit the pillow and slept soundly through the night.

Saturday morning, I woke up alone in the bed, somewhat confused. The events of the evening before seemed like a bad dream, and I wasn't sure it had all taken place until I turned over and felt a sharp pain in my side.

"Good morning. I thought I heard stirring in here. Ready for a cup of coffee?"

Frank was standing just inside the doorway, holding my favorite coffee mug.

"Good morning," I replied as I sat up in the bed. "Wow. This is the second time you've served me coffee in bed. You are so going to spoil me, Commissioner Reagan."

Approaching the bed, Frank said, "Well, after what you went through last night, I believe you deserve a little TLC." He handed me the coffee, kissed me, then adjusted the pillows behind me so that I could lean back against them. "So, how do you feel?"

"Great. It only hurts when I laugh."

"Then I'll save all jokes for another time. Mind if I join you?"

"Never."

Frank joined me in the bed, sitting next to me with his arm around me so that I snuggled up close to him. He kissed the top of my head but was silent for several minutes. I could tell there was a lot on his mind. I could also tell by the dark circles under his eyes that, while I had slept quite well, he had not.

Finally, he said, "I told Danny last night I'd bring you into the precinct this morning, but we don't have to if you're not up to it."

"I heard him say he wanted to ask me some questions. Do you know what? I assumed Sybil gave a full report."

"She did, but Danny thinks you might be able to tell him more, and he has a sketch he wants you to look at."

"A sketch? Of who?"

"The man who assaulted Detective Baez—"

"And took her shield. And her gun. Do you think it's the same guy?"

"I think it's a good possibility, and so does Danny."

"So, what's the connection? Is there one? Or were Sybil and I just random? Convenient?"

"I have a hard time believing it was random. You did make it pretty damn convenient, though."

"You're not going to lecture me while I'm in pain, are you?" I asked, playing the sympathy card.

"No. I'll save it for later."

"You're so good to me, Frank. What would I do without you?"

"You'd probably be better off."

"No way. And speaking of TLC," I said as I reached to set my coffee mug on the bedside table, "I could use more of it this morning." I turned back to Frank and touched my hand to his face.

He took my hand in his, kissed it. "Yeah, you're not getting that this morning, Nicole."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not taking the chance of hurting you."

"Frank, you could never hurt me." Suddenly overcome with a feeling of nausea, I said, "But, I think I will take a pass because I think I'm about to puke!"

"Let's get you to the bathroom."

"No, I think I'm okay. I think I just need food. I haven't eaten since noon yesterday. How about some crackers, or some toast?"

"Coming right up. Just lie still." Frank kissed my forehead, then left the bed and headed out of the room.

As he did, I called out, "Frank, I love you."

He stopped, looked back at me. "I love you, Nicole." He started to walk off, then turned again. "Oh, by the way, remind me to never get on your bad side."

I smiled, but it only lasted a second, as I thought about what he'd said. I did not like Frank thinking I would be better off without him. I couldn't stand the thought of not having him in my life, of not being with him.

I was worn out by the time I returned home from my second visit of the day to Precinct 54, both physically and emotionally. The first time Frank and I had gone together. We met with Danny, Detective Baez, and Lt. Dean. I answered the questions they had about the events of the night before, and the man who had tried to get Sybil and me into his car, and then shot at us as we ran away. Sybil had given a full report, but they still had some questions for me. They also had a sketch of the man who had attacked Detective Baez. I told them it could be the same man, but I couldn't say with certainty. After Frank and I returned, he left to spend the afternoon with Danny's two sons, Sean and Jack. He had promised them an afternoon at the Science museum. He offered to cancel to stay with me, but I insisted Frank keep his promise to his grandsons, that I didn't need a sitter. When Danny called later that afternoon, saying he needed me back at the precinct, I took a cab. While there, I had a private chat with Lt. Dean, clearing the air on an issue I felt needed addressing.

Once home, I rested while waiting for Frank to return. I was looking forward to a quiet evening at home with him.

When he finally returned, he kissed me, asked how I was feeling, but I could tell something was on his mind.

"I heard you went back to the precinct," he said.

"I did."

"Why didn't you call me so I could go with you?"

"Because you were with your grandsons. I didn't want to intrude on your time with them."

"Is that why, or did you just not want me there?"

"That is just ridiculous, Frank."

"Is it?"

"Yes!"

"So, what is going on between you and Lt. Dean?"

"Absolutely nothing."

Frank stood in his usual stance, hands in his pockets, with the usual lip pursing he always did when he was upset, troubled.

"Well, Danny seems to think there is. And I had to wonder myself why the lieutenant showed up at the hospital last night."

I so did not have the energy to have this argument with Frank; it was so not what I'd had in mind for the evening. But I should have known Danny would say something to Frank; I should have prepared for it. Danny had walked into the break room at the precinct during an awkward moment between Lt. Dean and me and had read too much into it. I should have accepted his offer of a ride home, and explained it, but I didn't feel at the time I had to explain myself to Danny. I expected more trust from him, but apparently I had been wrong to do so.

"Danny saw something this afternoon that meant nothing. But, of course, he just couldn't get to Daddy fast enough to tell him all about it, could he!"

"That's not fair, Nicole."

"No, Frank, it isn't. It isn't fair to me, and I think I deserve better."

"He's just looking out for his old man."

"Of course he is. Just like Jamie. Just like Erin. They're all looking out for you. You know, Frank, I love your family, I do. But, seriously, I'm so tired of one of them running to you every time they think I've done you wrong! I've never done you wrong, Frank, and I just don't think I deserve such distrust! All I have ever done is love you. What's it going to take to prove that, to you and your family? Do I need to yell it from the top of the Empire State Building? Have it written in big bold letters and dragged across the sky?

I LOVE FRANK REAGAN. I AM NOT CHEATING ON HIM. I AM NOT USING HIM TO WRITE OR SELL MY NOVELS. I. JUST. SIMPLY. LOVE. HIM.

"I don't think that's necessary, though the Press would certainly enjoy it."

"Then what, Frank? How do I prove my love for you?"

"Marry me."

"What?"

"You heard me. I said marry me."

I stood with my mouth open, stunned. I had seen signs, hints, that Frank might be thinking in that direction. I hoped he was. But I was not expecting it at his moment, this way.

"Was that a proposal?"

"Well, it was meant to be. But, as usual, I'm probably not doing it right." Frank still had his hands in his pockets.

I smiled. "You're right. You're not."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I want a proper proposal, on one knee."

"I'm not getting down on one knee, Nicole. I'm too damn old to do that. I won't be able to get back up."

"Take a knee, Frank. I promise I'll help you back up if you need it."

Frustrated, Frank sighed. "You're not going to give me an answer until I do, are you?"

"No."

"God, Nicole! You make everything so damn difficult! You drive me crazy!"

"Which is one of the reasons you love me," I teased as I approached him, put my hands on his chest.

"I would say I love you in spite of it, but whichever it is, the fact is I do love you, Nicole, very much, and I want you to be my wife, so if it takes getting down on one knee, I guess I have no choice."

I smiled as he muttered to himself, and then got down on his knee. I almost felt sorry for making him do so. Almost. What could I say? I was a romance writer; I expected romance. And what was more romantic than a man on his knee, asking for your hand in marriage? It was the second time in my life a man had asked me to marry him, and as far as I was concerned, it would be the last. I wanted it to be one of fairy-tale legend.

When Frank took my left hand in both his, I noticed for the first time that his ring finger was bare. I clasped my free hand over my mouth as he said the words I so wanted to hear.

"Nicole Richardson, I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?"

I removed my hand from my mouth. Touching the side of Frank's face, I replied, "Yes, Frank. Yes! I will marry you! Nothing would make me happier than becoming Mrs. Frank Reagan. I love you so much!"

I pulled my hand from his, cupped his face, and kissed him. "I love you, Frank."

Frank stood, without my help.

"I don't have a ring," he said. "I thought we might shop for that together."

"That would be nice." I hadn't even thought about a ring; I had been so overwhelmed that our fight had turned into a marriage proposal.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Nicole? I am getting to be an old man. I'm nearly ten years older than you. Are you sure you want to commit the rest of your life to me? To my family? Because that's what I expect, for us to be together for the rest of our lives."

"I am sure, Frank. I have never wanted anything more in my life."

"Good! Then it's settled."

"Yes, it is."

"Not sure I'm doing the right thing. Between you and Garrett, I'll never get the last word!"

"I'll let you have it once in a while, Frank. I promise."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

"Please do!"

"I will."

"Good."

"Very good," Frank said. He took me in his arms and pressed his lips to mine, making sure he had the last word.

THE END

A/N — For detailed information concerning Detective Baez's brutal attack, and Nicole's two visits to Precinct 54, including her conversation with Lt. Dean, please read Detective Baez — Naughty or Nice?.