Keys jingled in the lock as she twisted the deadbolt and pushed the door open. She shifted her laptop case higher on her shoulder as she struggled to type in the three digit code for her alarm. Flipping on the light switch for the foyer, she dropped her dripping wet umbrella in the pail by the door. She pulled the keys out of the door, and kicked it shut with a click. Sighing, she moved into the living room, and switched on the table lamp, then continued in to the kitchen. She set her laptop case on the island of the kitchen, and moved toward the refrigerator.

She pulled open he door and took stock of what looked good. Grabbing a bottle of water, she kicked the door shut again. She popped open her laptop case and pulled out a few documents. Sitting down at the table, she began to leaf through her paperwork. She twisted the lid off of the water bottle, and took a sip.

Out in the foyer, the door opened and closed. “Sarah?” he called, “Sarah?”

“In here, Chris,” she called, screwing the lid back on bottle.

He came around the corner from the living room, and she smiled. He was wearing his blue Oxford button down, and his gray pinstripe suit. She hadn’t gotten a chance to see him before she left in the morning, having called a quick good-bye while he was showering. “Hi, honey,” he said, coming over to her. “Still working?”

“Just passing time,” Sarah replied, leaning up for his kiss. He bent and kissed her lightly. “How was your day?”

“Good,” Chris replied, loosening his tie. He turned away and went to the refrigerator. “I hired a new reporter, to take Bruce’s job when he leaves next week,” he continued.

Sarah smiled, “That’s great. You’ve been a little stressed about that.” She closed her paperwork, and turned in the chair. “What do you want for dinner? I looked, but nothing jumped out at me.”

“Would you want to do spaghetti with chicken and parmesan? We have all those ingredients here, and we won’t have to go out for anything,” Chris said, peering into the lighted abyss of the refrigerator. He turned to look at Sarah. She had her head tilted to one side, and she was smiling. “Sarah?” He grinned. “You there, honey?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I was just thinking that you look wonderful today.”

Chris choked on laughter. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” he asked, grabbing chicken from the drawer in the refrigerator.

“Probably,” Sarah replied, standing up. She pulled her laptop case off of the counter, and set it by the arch to the hallway. “Spaghetti is perfect.”

“How’d work go for you?” Chris asked, reaching for the spaghetti from the cabinet above the coffeemaker.

Sarah got up, and walked around the island to grab the big pot out of the cabinet under the toaster. She set it in the sink and began to fill it up with water. “Pretty good. The trial has been set up for tomorrow. We go in at eight.” Chris turned on the burner as Sarah put the pan on the stove. “Today was pretty much spent making sure Abigail was comfortable answering the questions the defense is bound to ask. She’s seems competent.”

“Do you want me to come to court tomorrow?” Chris asked.

Sarah glanced up from the spice cabinet she had just opened, and stared at him. “Do you have time?” she asked.

“Course I do, why?” Chris asked.

“You never have time to come see me in court. Why is tomorrow different?”

“When you say it like that, it sounds like I don’t support your career,” Chris replied, snapping the spaghetti, and placing it in the pot.

Sarah put the sage, rosemary, and garlic on the counter, then began digging for the fresh pepper and brown sugar in the pantry as she replied, “No, nothing like that, darling. I just know you’re so busy these days, what with the promotion and all.”

He leaned against the counter and watched her for a minute, before she turned around and smiled at him. “Tomorrow my schedule is clear, so I figured I’d come see you in action. If that’s all right… I mean, I haven’t seen you work in a long time.”

Sarah grinned at him. “I’d love it!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.

“Remember the first time we met?” Chris said, stirring the water.

“How could I forget?” Sarah asked. “It was on the steps of the courthouse. You were shoving your microphone in my client’s face…”

“You stepped in; I hit you in the face with the mike.” Chris said, opening the refrigerator and opening the produce drawer. He pulled out a tomato.

“I bled. You apologized. We went out to dinner.” Sarah finished, catching the tomato he tossed her.

“That was three years ago, Sarah,” Chris replied, grinning broadly.

Sarah began to slice the tomato that Chris had tossed her. “Hard to believe?” Sarah asked.

Chris nodded. “Three incredible years.”

“It’s three years… Tomorrow,” Sarah whispered, turning to look at him. “Oh, honey. I have court all day.”

“I know,” Chris replied. “But that’s why I’m coming to see you. This time, I’ll leave the mike at the station though.” Sarah giggled. “It will be fine. Then, if you’re done early enough, we can go out to dinner.”

Sarah handed him the sliced tomato. Chris put it in the pot with the sauce he’d already poured in. “Do you have the chicken?”

“I thought you did,” Sarah replied, smiling.

Chris grinned, “Yeah, whoops.” He turned around and grabbed it off the counter. Sarah bent down and grabbed a pan, then handed it to Chris. “So, you wanna get married?”

Sarah froze, then turned to stare at him. “What?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Would you want to marry me? If I asked, I mean,” Chris replied.

“Um, well… If you were to ask, I’d probably say sure… I mean, are you asking?”

Chris reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a diamond ring. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Oh, my god,” Sarah replied, staring at him. “Oh, my, god.” She leaned against the counter, catching her weight with her hands. “Oh… My… God…”

“Is that a yes?” Chris asked.

Sarah nodded, running her hands through her hair, and staring at him. “I can’t believe you’re asking me…” she whispered. Chris grinned and stepped closer. “Yes. Of course, yes.” She jumped into his arms.