Work Text:
Nat smooths down the already-immaculate lines of her skirt, attempting to allay the tiny doubts that hang in her head. She knows she shouldn’t worry, that the detective loves her more than air itself and likes to remind her of this often, but still she does. The detective has never truly been in a committed relationship before Nat, and while it’s not as though they have never talked about marriage before, her reaction was confusing. When she’d broached the subject, the detective had gone quiet, staring off into space, surprisingly introspective. All she said when Nat gently brought her back to reality was a quiet “I hadn’t considered that.” It wasn’t a negative response, certainly, but it wasn’t exactly positive either. Just contemplative. Hesitant. But the way the detective’s heart raced in that moment gave Nat hope.
Enough that she’d set about planning the very date she was on now. A perfect blend of her interests and the detective’s. Really, in any other case, Nat would’ve insisted on indulging her girlfriend’s interests, but after so many dates, she knows that her lovely detective would simply insist that she’d “crawl through glass if it would make you smile.”
Still, even with the encouragement to indulge herself, Nat wanted to pick something her girlfriend would enjoy. She picked the art museum for herself, but the weaponry exhibit for the detective. It’s a happy blend of their interests; Nat gets to spin historically-accurate tales of the weapons while the detective looks on in awe, gazing over the sharp, clean lines of blades. Much better than crawling through broken glass. Nat smiles as the detective squeezes her hand and pulls her closer toward a display of ornate flintlock pistols. This sort of display of unbridled enthusiasm from her girlfriend makes the moment rare, more than worth cherishing, though she hopes that they will both later cherish this date for a different reason.
The detective glances up to meet Nat’s eyes and a stillness falls between them. She’s lost in the warm depths of Nat’s gaze for a moment, jaw hanging open and words caught hopelessly in her throat. But then Nat smiles at her and it feels as though all of the other wondrous things in the room are suddenly dull. It’s all Nat, and that’s all she needs. That thought seems to finally spur her to speech again, but Nat breaks the quiet in the same moment.
“Nat, you’re beau-”
“My love, I have s-”
They both stop again, staring at each other. Nat opens her mouth, but the detective is quick to cut in.
“You go first.” Nat furrows her brow, pausing just for a second to get a silent confirmation, but she seems to accept it.
“I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you,” Nat starts, voice smooth and steady as she draws in close. All she can hear now is the beat of their hearts, a unified rhythm that only breaks down when Nat leans down to press a gentle kiss to the detective’s jaw. Even after years of doing it, she still relishes in the ability to affect her girlfriend so. Still, she can’t allow herself to be too carried away by the moment. Her planning will not go to waste. “I love you, and I still think every day about how incredible it is that you love me too.” She bites her lip, hand drifting to her jacket pocket before she can really think about it. “I have never known another who cares quite so fiercely. You have a rare and beautiful passion. And that’s only part of why I wanted to ask...” Nat trails off, dropping to one knee and pulling the ring box from her coat in one fluid motion. “Will you marry me?”
Confusion. Recognition. Shock. The detective is silent as the emotions play out in her eyes. After what seems to stretch on for uncomfortably long, it seems that she lands on frustration. “Fuck, really? ” Nat’s heart just about stops. She hadn’t expected this bad of an answer. She’d, of course, prepared herself for the possibility that the detective wasn’t ready for marriage, but how could she have prepared for this sting? Crestfallen, her gaze lowers to the marble floor. She starts to stand, apology on her lips, when two hands rest on her shoulders. Nat glances up to find the detective kneeling in front of her.
“Wait, shit. Nat, I didn’t-” She falters, pulling back just enough to sigh heavily and brush her hair back over her shoulder. “I’ve really fucked this up now, huh? Worse than I thought I would.” The detective sighs again, and Nat’s confusion only grows. It’s a welcome distraction from the tightness of her chest, at the very least. Her girlfriend gives her a desperate look. “Please don’t be sad. I just-” She reaches into her own jacket now- “Here. This will explain better than I can.” With that, she slips a little box, much like the other Nat holds, into her hand, followed by a crumpled note. “Sorry I suck at words.” Nat waves off the comment as she delicately unfolds the paper and reads.
Nat,
If you’re reading this, it’s because I messed up or I got choked up and couldn’t quite get out what I wanted to say or something. Sorry. I’m not the best at this kind of thing, but I thought if I wrote a backup maybe I could begin to say everything I want to you.
I love you more than anything. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if I ever really knew how to love people before you came and showed me. You got me bad, and I don’t know how I could ever thank you enough. I guess this is a decent way to start. I never thought I would ever get married or want to, and it’s still kind of scary to me, but I know that you’re the only person in this world or any world that I would take the risk for. I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to do all of that domestic stuff like watch you spend way too much on throw pillows. I want to be able to call you my wife.
That felt good to write. Wife.
Nat, please be my wife.
The detective swallows as she watches Nat scan the note once, then twice before finally flipping it shut. And she laughs , bright, happy, and the detective doesn’t think she’s ever heard anything so beautiful. Nat pulls her into a tight embrace, kissing her cheek, her lips, her cheek again.
“I’m sorry I panicked! I just-” The detective searches for words but none seem to really do what she wants to say justice. Instead, she offers up a sheepish “I’m sorry.” Nat shakes her head.
“No, no! It’s fine!” She offers her ring to the detective again before slipping the one she was handed onto her finger. “I can’t think of anything I want more than to be your wife.” The detective watches the movement intently and Nat can see tears pooling at her eyes.
“Yeah, same,” She manages to croak out, throat tight. It’s not particularly eloquent, but Nat can feel how emotion-laden those two simple words are. She takes the opportunity instead to slip the other ring onto the detective’s finger. Simple, elegant, classic. It looks like it belongs there. Her fiancée must think so too, as the tears finally do start to streak down her cheeks. Nat pulls her in once more, kissing them away and reveling in the opportunity to hold her future wife close.
They’re both caught-up in their joy, almost giddy, as a security guard clears their throat to ask the couple if they’re okay. Nat simply nods to them, drawing the detective up from the floor, determined to still stay as near as possible to her. Neither of them pay much mind at all as the guard quietly urges them to continue on with their museum visit. All that matters to them now is gripping onto each other tightly and the way they take their steps in time with each other, united. Indeed, that’s what they know that they will remember about this moment when they look back on it.