Alex was nervous. Very nervous. Maggie had made such a fuss of her on her birthday – which she found especially touching, after the Valentine's debacle the year before – and she so wanted to get it right. For Maggie. She wanted Maggie to know just how much she loved her.

She smoothed her dress. Again. She checked her hair in the mirror. Again. She sighed. She would be so much more comfortable in her DEO uniform, and combat boots. This girly stuff … she smiled, and realized she was lying to herself. She loved the girly stuff. She never had before. When men asked her out, she was almost resentful that they expected her to look nice. She realized she was being unfair. She always wanted to look nice for Maggie. When they went out, she wanted Maggie to be proud to have her on her arm.

Maggie. Just the thought of the small detective brought a smile to her face. Who was she kidding? Maggie loved what she looked like. Whatever she was wearing. Though she did love the small smile that crossed Maggie's features when she dressed up. Alex had been left in no doubt that she was exactly what Maggie was looking for.

She touched the wrapping on the bottle again. She looked at her watch. She laughed. She knew her Breitling was completely unsuitable for the outfit she was wearing, but she could rarely bear to take it off. She would take it off before they went out. She didn't want to make Maggie look bad. Maggie. Where was she? She was already eight minutes late, and if there was one thing that Maggie was, it was punctual.

Alex had made reservations at Maggie's favorite restaurant. Maggie didn't like the fancy places so much. This small, downtown Italian restaurant was tucked away in a side street. It didn't look much from the outside, but the atmosphere inside was quiet and friendly, and the food was out of this world. And of course tiramisu was always on the menu.

She looked at her watch again. Twelve minutes late. She was starting to get anxious. They would have to leave in 20 minutes, to get to the restaurant in time. And Alex wanted … needed … some time alone with Maggie first.

Then she heard the key in the lock. She grinned to herself. She knew all the jokes about lesbians U-Hauling it, but she had given Maggie a key to her apartment after their second date. And Maggie had moved in completely four months ago. Alex had never been able to imagine what it would be like, sharing her space with anyone. A friend, a lover. But now she couldn't imagine her apartment without Maggie in it, without Maggie's stuff around the place. Without Maggie's shampoo in the bathroom. She even loved Maggie's bizarre addiction to banana milkshakes.

She looked up eagerly as the door opened, and then her face fell.

Maggie put a hand up to forestall her. "I'm okay, Danvers," she said, though her voice was raspy. Her arm was in a sling, there was a large dressing on her beautiful cheek, and she winced as she stepped into the apartment. Maggie looked up at her. "Really. I'm okay. Or I will be. I just need ..."

Alex could see what she needed. Very carefully and tenderly, she wrapped her arms around her. Without knowing who initiated it, they kissed each other, softly, lovingly. Alex guided her to the couch. She crouched at her feet. "What do you need?"

"You," Maggie whispered. "Just you."

"You have me. You will always have me," Alex stood up. She touched the uninjured side of Maggie's face.

"No inquest. Not tonight," Maggie's voice held a hint of pleading.

Alex nodded. "Just … it's true, right? You are okay? You don't need me to take you to the hospital?"

Maggie nodded. "I just got back from the hospital. My captain dragged me there. It was just a dumb perp, things went bad. Nobody died, though," she saw the stricken look on Alex's face. She knew it would reassure Alex to have her injuries cataloged, so she didn't imagine worse things. She pointed to her cheek. "Four stitches." She gestured to her arm. "Dislocation. Back in now. But, Jesus..."

Alex smiled, sadly. "Hurts like a sonofabitch, doesn't it?"

"Oh yeah," Maggie admitted. She nodded to her leg. "Seven stitches, upper thigh. And a few bruised ribs. Like I said, I'm okay."

Alex turned away, to hide the moisture in her eyes. She put a soft hand on Maggie's shoulder. "I just need to make a call."

Alex quickly cancelled the reservation. She returned to the couch. Pushing a loose strand of hair behind Maggie's ear, she leant forward and kissed her. "Happy birthday, my love," she said.

Maggie blinked. She had forgotten all about her birthday. She had remembered it early in the day, and she was looking forward to celebrating with Alex. But then it had all gone to hell in a handbasket, and it had gone clean out of her mind. She smiled. And then she started to laugh. Before long, tears were streaming down her face as the emotions of the day mingled with her laughter. Before she knew what was happening, she was sobbing into Alex's front, feeling Alex's hand rub up and down her back. Alex made soft, shushing sounds to her.

After holding Maggie for a half hour, Alex carefully lifted her into her arms.

"You're stronger than you look, Danvers," Maggie smiled.

Alex was relieved to see her regaining her spark. She carried her to the bedroom and lay her on the bed. "Take-out?"

"Pizza. And Scotch," Maggie grinned. "It's okay, I haven't had any painkillers. Just one Scotch," she pleaded.

Alex called for pizza. She collected the wrapped bottle, and a small package from the kitchen, together with some glasses. She handed the bottle to Maggie. "Birthday Scotch," she smiled.

Maggie opened the bottle and gasped. It was a bottle of Edradour Fairy Flag whiskey, from the world's smallest brewery in the north of Scotland. She'd only had it once before, and she could still remember the taste. "How did you know?"

Alex shrugged and smiled. She poured a slug and handed it to Maggie. She poured one for herself, too. Maggie noticed her hand shaking, but she didn't say anything.

Alex took a large sip. "Jesus, that's good," she said.

Maggie nodded. "The best." She reached out and touched Alex's hand. "Like you," she said, softly.

Alex sat on the edge of the bed. "I only got one bottle. I kinda figured … maybe we could visit the distillery, and pick up some more."

"In Scotland?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah. Maybe..."

Maggie realized Alex had slipped from the bed, and was now on the floor. Kneeling. On one knee.

"Maybe on our honeymoon?" Alex's voice was small and nervous. She took Maggie's hand. "I never knew it was possible to be this happy. Margaret Ellen Sawyer," she swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Maggie squealed with excitement. She flung her arms around Alex, not caring how much it made everything hurts. She then pulled back. "There had better be a ring, Danvers," her tone was mock-threatening. And then she saw the velvet box in Alex's hand.

"It's kinda plain. I know you don't wear much jewelry. It has four small diamonds, embedded. So they don't get in the way when you work. One for every corner of my heart." Her hand shook as she lifted the ring out. "May I put it on you?"

"Damn right, you may," Maggie's smile was so wide it almost split her face. "Of course I'll marry you Danvers. You're all I've ever wanted."