Truthfully, Diane hadn't been able to fully relax until now. It was something she could hardly even admit to herself.

Yes, she finally had him - Sam Malone. She'd loved him for so long she barely remembered a time when she didn't.

But there had always been an edge of fear to her love - because she knew that Sam was one of those men who didn't ever seem satisfied with just one woman.

How many times had she come within minutes of sleeping with him again only to see him waltz back into the bar a few days later with some new piece of arm candy? Usually one quite a bit younger than her too.

Her heart had been broken so many times over it that she'd sort of grown immune to it - that vulnerable muscle simply had no more places to break.

And then there was that whole councilwoman Janet Eldrich thing - Diane still involuntarily shivered at the mere thought of her. If it was anything she'd been able to count on all of these years, it was that she'd had so much more to offer than the empty-headed bimbettes Sam squired around. She'd confidently counted on that to bring him back to her time and again.

But Janet wasn't some 22-year-old mentally-challenged ski bunny. She was an accomplished woman, whip smart, successful, older - and if Diane was brutally honest with herself - much more of a catch than Diane herself was. Look at how she'd introduced Sam to important people - brought him to swanky, exclusive events where he'd hobnobbed with the rich and powerful. Diane couldn't even begin to offer him that.

Stop thinking about Janet! she commanded herself. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd done so.

As much as she loved Sam, she knew marrying him was a big risk - was this a man who was going to remain faithful? Oh sure, he'd do it for a year or so - but what about after that? What about when her looks started to fade? What about when she was harried and short-tempered taking care of little children?

Then she'd heard everything he'd said while she was hiding in the bachelor party cake - heard him lamenting that Diane would be the last woman - and the last set of earlobes - of his life. She got a little queasy thinking about everything he'd said.

If he was going to cheat - let him do it now. Before they got married. Diane had to know.

So she'd offered him 24 hours of hedonistic pleasure with anything in a tube top. Let him get it out of his system, for god's sake! If that was ever even possible with a walking erection like Sam Malone.

And just as she'd somewhat suspected - he didn't do it. Yes, maybe he just been too worried about what Diane would do with her own allotted carousing time - but it didn't matter. He hadn't done it when he had the chance. She was finally able to relax into the relationship - into the certainty that he wanted just her - and feel safe. She had to admit that for a long time she had enjoyed that frisson of danger she felt with him - but she loved the feeling of safety. Loved it deep in her bones.

She curled closer into Sam's naked body and peppered his eyelids with little kisses. They fluttered open and he stared at her with his expressive blue-grey eyes. Then he broke into a smile and kissed her. His eyes, his lips, his smile - there was nothing about this man that didn't turn her insides to happy mush.

"Sam, do you regret not taking your 24 hours?" she whispered.

"I regret sitting in my damn car for 24 hours. My muscles still ache."

"You know what I mean."

"I regret that I could have been making love to you for 24 hours instead, how's that?"

Diane glanced at her watch. "Well, it's been at least six since we left the bar."

"Oh, good, then we have 18 more," Sam growled, rolling on top of her and kissing her deeply.

Mmm. My god. Would she ever get tired of kissing him? She knew the answer to that - no, no she wouldn't.

"By the way, Diane," he said, suddenly pulling away. "I forgot something."

He sat up and pulled on his boxer shorts. Then he sauntered to his closet and rummaged around for a moment. He brought out a small silver-papered box and handed it to her.

"What's this?"

"Just a little present for you."

"Oh, Sam, no! We agreed after the two rings, seven dresses, silver corn cob holders, and repairs to your car that we'd start saving money!"

He sat on the side of the bed and planted a kiss on her forehead.

"But this is a good one. I really think you're going to like it."

"No, I appreciate it. You're the best fiance in the world, but you should really take this back to the store. We should save for the honeymoon, a house…"

"Diane, open the damn present before I take YOU back to the store."

She laughed. "Okay, honey."

She had never called Sam by any pet names. She'd had all kinds of affectionate names for Frasier - but Sam was always just Sam. She'd felt too conflicted and fearful for that kind of raw emotional intimacy with him. She didn't feel that way anymore.

She liked "honey" because it was what Coach used to call her, and she couldn't think of any more tender pet name.

He pushed the box on her again.

"Come on, hurry up. It might get cold."

She gingerly unwrapped the paper, wanting to save it in her memento box. Underneath was a blank white box - no brand name anywhere. She plucked off the lid and peeked inside.

Shredded paper. Tiny little mounds of paper. Paper everywhere.

She dug her fingers into it and explored the smooth bottom of the box. She didn't feel anything.

"Sam?" She eyed him questioningly.

He dropped his hand into the box, scooped up a handful of paper scraps and let them fall loosely through his fingers.

"Oh, wait," he said. "I forgot the other part of the gift."

He walked back to his closet and dug out something else. Then he swiftly tossed it next to her on the bed.

Diane looked down and her heart leaped into her throat. She knew exactly what it was.

"Sam!" she almost screamed. "Is this what I think it is?"

She picked up a black leather binding - now empty. She looked back at the box with its tangled shreds of paper.

"Sam!" she laughed, completely giddy. "It's your disgusting little black book."

"Yep," Sam said, pretending to wipe away a tear.

"Well, well! Are you sure you didn't make a copy?" she asked, with faux-suspicion.

"Hey, you never said I couldn't do that." He winked. Then he sat down next to her and looked at the detritus of his former life.

"Should we burn it?" he asked.

"Are you kidding me? I am bronzing it!"

"Now, babe, I hope you realize what a sacrifice this is for me - the Smithsonian offered good money for that book."

"Oh really? Was it for the Homo neanderthalensis exhibit?"

"It was for the homo studliness exhibit."

"Thank you, Sam," she said, feeling utter adoration pool in her chest.

He took one of her hands in his and kissed it. Then he looked deeply into her eyes.

"Diane, I was kind of a terrible boyfriend."

"Kind of?"

"Okay, I was. And I know that … I look back on some of the stuff I pulled and I'm not sure why you put up with me at all. I just … I want to be a good fiance."

"You have been," she said, stroking his hand. "I'm sorry I've been kind of a demanding fiancee."

"Kind of?"

She laughed. "Okay, just demanding. I guess I feel like I waited so long for this… I wanted to- "

"Make me change my mind?" He grinned and nudged her playfully.

"No. That I wanted to - I don't know - have the biggest, best wedding ever… but, you know what, we can get married at Cheers. I think that would be appropriate. And it would be like Coach is there with us."

"I'm sure Norm would appreciate it. I wasn't sure if I'd get him off that stool and into a church."

"Sam…" she whispered, caressing his cheek. "Thank you for tearing this up. That was probably tough for you."

"I just hope you'll understand that I had keep one number."

Diane pulled her face back and gaped at him in mild shock.

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, one hot little vixen I couldn't quite let go of."

Out of his other hand came a small square of paper with torn edges. He showed it to her. It read "Diane Chambers" and contained her phone number.

"This one I'm keeping."

She smiled and her heart was so full she thought it would burst.

"Thank you, Sam," she said, kissing him again.

"You hot little vixen," he said, wrapping her in his arms. They fell back onto the bed, laughing like two little kids playing in a fresh blanket of snow.