Mac is loud

She doesn't look up at who had tossed the dark little box onto her desk. Veronica had this great habit of throwing evidence, and the occasional baked good, onto her desk before regaling her with all the details of how it ended up there.

She doesn't even pick it up right away. She saves her file before looking up at Veronica.

Not Veronica.

Incredibly not Veronica. She's not sure it could get less Veronica than that. Dick is standing in front of the desk, he looks like he hasn't been to bed yet, his blonde hair messy, his gaze is cutting right into her and it hurts and feels wonderful all at once.

Her entire body has been in this weird readied state since she'd moved back to town and she hadn't been brave enough to try and pinpoint why.

One look at him and she knew in her very core that it was for him. She'd been in this odd nostalgic sense memory place and Dick's hands had been echoing across her skin for months now. If he swept the desk she would be on him in a heartbeat. She'd worry about the precarious stacks of paperwork waiting for tomorrow's meeting after the fact.

Dick would be worth it.

He had ruined her for other men a long time ago. She hadn't even had all that many relationships since him. It hadn't been intentional, not out of some strange loyalty to a long ago boyfriend but because no one could really make her... feel like he did. They were always lacking in one department or other.

She wasn't really up to destroying another nice boy's ego by calling out the wrong name. Poor Greg. He just had to know who this Dick character she had dated in college had been and well Dick wasn't exactly a hard person to find in the gossip pages. Rich, handsome and skilled it had been a rather explosive break up.

"Dick..."

"Hey..." He points at the box and she finally picks it up. It's soft to the touch and her gut twists because she's so afraid that she knows what's in this box, and so afraid that she's wrong.

Her fingers run along the soft box and biting her lip she snaps it open.

It's a ring. It's simple and beautiful and she'd put money on it fitting perfectly.

"How long have you had this?" She asks quietly mesmerized by how the diamond snatches up the light in the room.

"2009."

"2009?"

"Yeah." He looks away from her, flexing his fingers and she can see his knuckles are red. He's been in a fight and he's oddly tight lipped for supposedly asking her to marry him.

Wait.

That was what this was, right?

This wasn't him drunk and upset and mad at her, was it?

She narrowed her eyes and watched the way he stood, solid. If he had been drinking, it wasn't enough to make this meaningless.

She snapped the box closed and it pulled his attention back to her.

"Why didn't you give me this in 2009 then?"

"You didn't come back." He tells her simply like that's all it was; like this is her fault when she hadn't wanted to leave him in the first place.

She stands up from the desk.

"You didn't come for me." She tells him and there's a heat in her now because how the fuck is this her fault. When he was supposed to follow her after he graduated and he never did.

A couple of drunk dials aside, it was like Portland had been on a different god damned planet.

"I didn't what?" He returns and his eyes get hot and his jaw sets. She recognizes that look. They had only had three major fights in their relationship, but they had been explosive and she can feel another one coming; recognizes the signs.

"You. Didn't. Come. For. Me."

"You told me not to follow you!" His voice hits that strange depth saved for arguments and it vibrates across her body because every part of her must remember how the fights always ended.

With her on her back.

"I didn't mean forever!" She slams the ring box down on the desk and quickly moves around it to stand in front of him without obstruction.

"You called me a fucking lost puppy." He growls looking down at her, "Why the fuck would I follow you and prove you right? You were supposed to come back."

"How could I come back when you had made this huge deal about starting my own life? You made it sound like coming back would be giving up on a god damn dream when all I wanted was to be with you." She returns grabbing onto the front of his shirt, twisting it in her hands.

"I waited for you." His voice loses its heat.

"I'm still waiting for you." She returns, and it's true. She knows that, has always known it really, in the heart of her that she was only for him. She had always believed that he would show up one day at her apartment.

His mouth crashes down on hers and all the twisting in her just comes undone because she's been waiting for this for months, years if she's honest with herself.

The response is immediate and feverish. Hot and impatient and he's pushing her back towards the desk.

She hits the desk top and he grabs her and pulls her up onto it without removing his mouth from hers. He tastes a little like gin but he also tastes exactly like she had remembered, had craved it for years, and she'd drown in it happily.

Fingers grabbing and pushing at the fabric of his shirt; she needs his skin on hers, needs to feel the burning silk of him again and he seems to feel the same because the buttons of her shirt are under attack.

Her mouth pulls from his, puffing for breath against him. She reaches for his belt, if she's lucky he'll be going commando, less fabric to fuck with.

"Too many buttons." He hisses against her skin.

"Rip it." She demands heatedly and god she hasn't heard that tone in years. She can feel the smile against her skin as his hands grab onto the front of her shirt, his knuckles pressing into her, he rips the fabric apart to gain access to her skin.

His hands are on her skin, hot and large and familiar, a moan falls from her mouth at the feeling.

She's distracted by his touch, hot and heavy, dragging across her skin, but she manages to get his belt loose. She pushes his jeans down with her heels, no underwear. The heels scrape against his leg causing him to pause in his movements and grip her hard, his breath changing in her ear.

His fingers rip desperately at her skirt, after a moment, pushing it up out of the way, along with her underwear. Her heart stutters and slams at the feel of his fingers against her, her fingers grip him hard, her legs pulling him in close.

The feel of him hot and hard and throbbing against her is amazing, she can't wait and pulls him forward into her. The moan she makes is long and low, primal, matched by his.

He doesn't start up right away. He's paused, still and the feel of him in her is filling her up in a way she hadn't felt since the last time she was with him because it's not just sex.

Dick had been right all those years ago. They didn't fuck anymore, even now. It was a bigger thing than that, bigger than just being together again, bigger than a reunion.

He reaches behind her and grabs something. It takes a long beautifully filled moment to realize he's pushing the ring box into her chest.

"Wha-"

His eyes widen and she can't help the laugh that bubbles up out of her and shakes them both.

His fingers grip her hip tightly in response and she can see him struggle to keep a moan at bay.

"Ask me."

"Do you or not?" He asks moving slightly in her, trying not to move while they have this conversation is wearing on him.

"Ask me properly." She narrows her eyes at him but she doesn't really mean it. The answer is yes even if he had just put the ring on her finger and said nextThursday?

"Cindy Mackenzie will yo-" she doesn't let him finish her mouth is on his before he can get the actual important part of the question out.

He pulls away from her mouth, "so yes."

"Yes."

"Good." He slides back out and she hates the frustrated noise that she makes, but he seems to love it. He slams back into her before she can complain.

The meticulously stacked pieces of paper are all over the office by the time they are laying sated on the floor in front of the couch.

She moves from Dick's loose grip and can't help but smile softly at the disappointed noise he makes as he loses contact with her skin.

"What are you doing?" He asks, his hand trailing down her leg to grab hold of her ankle limiting her range.

She grabs the ring box from the floor under the desk and let's him reel her back in.

Settling next to him she pulls the ring, finally, out of the box and onto her finger.

"I'm not sure you've ever looked better." He tells her, pressing kisses into her hair and she can't stop looking at the ring. She's been waiting eight years for this and it feels better than she thought it would.

She turns in his arms to straddle him, smirking, which pulls a brilliant smile out of him. God she's missed every bit of him.

"So I was thinking..." She rests her hands against his chest and hates that they hit cloth. Although to be fair his pants are hanging off the water cooler, "we have a lot of making up to do."

His hands drop to her waist and press her down into him.

She has to bite her lip to stay focused, "So if you help me put all this paperwork back together I could call in sick tomorrow, and we could spend the whole weekend getting reacquainted."

He looks around her at all the paperwork and sighs, "The things I do for you." He shakes his head and lifts her off his lap so he can grab his pants.

Which is probably for the best, she knows that if he doesn't they'll just end up having sex again instead of putting the paperwork back together.

They manage to get the paperwork back in order without much fuss, but they have to pull over to the side of the road on the way back to the beach house and there's almost an incident in the hall on the way to his bedroom.

She's twisting her hand around throwing little pieces of rainbow across the room.

She needs to call her mother, who had expected them to get engaged years ago.

She needs to tell someone, everyone. It hits her that Veronica is in the room right down the hall and she moves to go break the news to her best friend.

Dick's arm moves quickly around her waist.

"Stay." He mumbles into the pillow, she turns to him surprised, he had seemed dead asleep only moments ago.

"I was going to tell Veronica the good news."

"If she doesn't already know she should get her hearing checked." He tells her, his arm tightening around her waist, keeping her in the bed.

"Oh god do you think she heard you?" She asks settling back down in the bed. He doesn't remove his arm from her and she's glad. She had always loved when he had done that.

"Me?" He finally opens his eyes to look at her, "More like you. It was like you'd come back from prison or a convent or something."

She pushes him playfully and god she had missed this, the ease and comfort and just natural feeling of his presence; the smell of him and the weight of him in the bed.

He rises up in the bed, resting against the headboard, and pulls her up to his chest. His fingers wrap around hers and twist the ring on her finger.

"So what are you doing Sunday?"

"Why?"

"I thought we could get married." He tells her seriously, "If you want." He shrugs like it's no big deal, but she knows him.

She shrugs in return, "I think I can clear my schedule."

He pushes her down into the bed and his familiar, wonderful weight is soon bearing down on her. The heat of his body and the smell of him as all consuming as always. Everything about him feels like home, the feeling of his fingers against hers as they push the stolen T-shirt up, soft and hot, the heat in his darkened eyes something she wants to keep with her forever.

She loves him, and it's something she had never thought would happen but had been waiting for her for a while, because it isn't this burning hot thing like she always thought it would be. It's a soft light, a light in her that is warm and light and has been lit for him for years.

She pouts and he pauses in his movements, a look of concern flickers across his face before recognition.

"Fine." He sighs like he's so put upon and drops to the bed, pulling her on top of him.

Her smile is bright and must be infectious because a large smile blooms across his face, too.

"Love me?" She asks as she slides down onto him.

"Yes-" the word is broken and followed up with a far too loud noise.

"Shush people will hear."She presses her hand to his mouth and can feel him smile against her hand. She braces herself for the flick of his tongue across her palm, but the feeling pulls her hand away from his mouth.

He leans up and it causes an angle change inside her that rips an overly loud moan from her as well.

"I'll let you in on a secret Cindy." He pauses to press a kiss to her collarbone, "This is our house. We can be as loud as we want."

She bites back a smile but pushes him roughly back down onto the bed. She's been quiet for a long time, roommates and noise complaints had driven her to near silence, but the idea of the freedom of noise gets her excited.

He always knew how to get her in that beautiful wanton state.

She wouldn't say that they had driven Veronica out of the house, but when Mac had finally made it out of the bedroom Veronica was packing Logan's car and Sunday at the court house Veronica couldn't look her in the eye.

Worth it. Veronica would get over it eventually she had last time after all.

a/n: thank you all for sticking with the story. I plan on going back at some point in the near future and fixing up the Stanford issue but i was really more focused on actually finishing this. Thank you to my beta, my chapters have been a lot cleaner since you've been helping out. With this finally checked off i'm hoping to get some more work done on my other unfinished stories. thank you so much for all the love.