Epilogue

In the end, it had taken Grace almost three weeks to say yes. She'd stuttered and goggled him for over an hour after he'd asked, insisting that he take it back, insisting it was too soon, insisting that asking her while she was wearing a sex suit was totally inappropriate. Wayne had simply smiled and politely disagreed with each point.

No, he wouldn't take it back.

No, it wasn't too soon. Hell, he'd known from Day One that he'd wanted to marry her.

No, it wasn't inappropriate to ask her to marry him while wearing a sex suit. "Ball game proposals," he argued, "are inappropriate. Clinking a champagne glass in a room full of people, falling on one knee and proposing loudly is inappropriate." He ran his hand through her hair and smiled into her eyes. "Asking you to be my wife in the bed that you share with me? This is the best place in the world to ask you, Grace."

"But...but..." she stammered while he chuckled.

"See?" he beamed shyly. "Aren't you glad I didn't make you stutter in front of a stadium full of sports nuts?"

She gave him a watery, uncertain smile and he ran his finger gently over her lips, keeping them still. "I don't need an answer now, baby. It's okay. But I do want you to think about it. Very seriously. I love you and I want to be your husband. I want my ring on your finger. I want my children to kick my hand when you're pregnant with them. I want to help you with buttons and necklaces and blown tires and all that stuff that's easier with another person. I want every fight I have from now on to be with you. But mostly?" He bit his lips. "I want to feel scared and wonderful for the rest of my life with you."

Grace inhaled sharply against his finger. "You're crazy. You know that?"

His smile grew. "Think about it, Grace." His bent forward and kissed her softly, trying to erase the shock from her features. The shy tease in him, however, couldn't let her relax completely. "Just say yes when you're done."

Three weeks went by and Rigsby patiently gave her space. They came home every night. They ate dinner. They made love. They fell asleep knotted tightly together and woke up the same way.

Finally, over cereal on the twentieth day, Grace looked at him and took a resolute breath. "Okay."

Rigsby flipped the newspaper page over on the table in front of him and didn't look up. "Okay what, babe?"

Grace reached over the table and slowly dragged the newspaper out from under his nose. He looked up in surprise. "I thought I was allowed to read at the table during breakfast," he whined gently.

She cocked her brow at him and looked at him expectantly. "Oh. Kay."

He stared into her wide eyes as it dawned on him that she was answering a previous question. He dared not speak its name. "Okay?" he tentatively asked.

She nodded. "Correct."

He reached out and scattered the newspaper onto the floor, leaning across the small dinette, eyes boring hopefully. "So...?"

"I'll wear your ring," she clarified. "I'll have your children. We'll button each other's hard-to-reach buttons and I'll call you when I get a flat, even thought I can change it myself." She smiled wryly. "I'll fight with you until the cow's come home and still feel wonderful that I have you and scared that I could lose you every day we go into work."

Rigsby exhaled raggedly and didn't blink once. "No backsies, Grace. I love it when you tease, but don't tease about this. Are you serious?"

She planted her hands on the table and stood slightly, leaning forward and down towards him. "Marry me, Wayne. Let's do the craziest, stupidest, most outrageous thing together and get married. I'm ready."

Rigsby stood. Leaning halfway, he met her in the middle. Always, he'd meet her in the middle. "Call Lisbon. Lock the door. And break out the sex suit. We aren't going into work today." He cupped her face and kissed her like a man released from every care in the world. Without breaking it, he reached down and grasped the table by the edge before upending it and sending it flying across the kitchen. Grace gasped sharply as the barrier disappeared and her fiance dragged her roughly against him. When he broke the kiss, he grinned.

"Care to celebrate with me?"

She grinned back and squeezed him tight. "Depends," she replied evilly. "Do I get to use my handcuffs?"

THE END

A/N: You guys are the best readers and reviewers in the whole world. I know I left you hanging for a million years on this story, but I always knew there was only a little piece left that I wanted to add, so I was lazy in getting it out. Forgive me, gentle folk. Thanks a zillion for all of the awesome reviews. I know I did some edgy stuff with them in this one, so I appreciate your willingness to let me try it out.

A little birdie told me that Heller admitted via interview that our ship was getting back together in Season 3. Bless you, little bird, for that tidbit. God willing, it's in the bag.

Until Dice or a new story entirely, I bid you adieu.

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