#჻ all the songs and poems suddenly made sense / they were all about you →「 NOAH & PHILLIP - PEACEIFIC 」

[destinywritten-blog]

Mistletoe

this was not a chance encounter. this was orchestrated, phillip new that in his heart of hearts. orchestrated, because clara had cornered him with some sort of conversation he’d lost track of. she jumped topics every time he seemed to get distracted, constantly dragging him back in with a new, completely disconnected factoid that brought his attention back to her in a mixture of bewilderment and amusement. that, and jamie was somewhere here, speaking with noah, making his way through the crowd, and oh – clara had just noticed the mistletoe hanging overhead ( conveniently, not above hers, but phillip’s ). he had to laugh at their effort, truly; it didn’t take much for him to agree to kiss his own boyfriend under the mistletoe. but he laughed, pulling noah closer, his hands framing the man’s face as he looked up at him, blue eyes bright with affection, pausing for the briefest of moments to speak before he finally leaned in to kiss him.

                    ❝ you know, if they’d just told me this was here, i’d have dragged you under it myself. ❞

@peaceific !

[astranva]

Marry Me?

Word Count: 3.1k

Category: fluff!!!!

Warning: the intro is a little poetic, a few curse words.

Summary: In which someone gets down on one knee and it isn’t Joe.

Backstage Girlfriend! Universe Masterlist

..

When you get your heart broken, there are a lot of songs and poems you start to relate to.

Love is a Losing Game by Amy Winehouse, no longer becomes just a slow song you might hum along; it becomes a fact you live by. 

A love like Noah and Allie’s from The Notebook is one that makes you flip your TV channel, because who could love someone like that?

Kafka’s letters to Milena start to make no sense, because how can a man tell his lover “For myself I am too heavy, for you I am light” and mean it? 

Heartbreak fucks you up. It shakes everything you know about love; to a partner, to a parent, to a friend, and to yourself. 

But then you meet someone new, and you realize that maybe the door should be left ajar. Maybe you can accommodate another visitor, in hopes of that visitor isn’t just a passerby. Suddenly, you realize that you don’t hate love because how could you hate love when them calling your name gives you some untamable butterflies? How could you hate love when their mere presence makes you forget about all the sleepless nights you spent crying, wondering if you were worthy of love? 

How can you hate love when you receive it so loudly, so softly, and so passionately? 

Having your heart broken by Harry wasn’t something you had expected. You had expected fights–bad fights, even, and you had expected distance, but you had never expected having to stay quiet as his manager told you that your boyfriend was out on a date with someone who wasn’t you to drive more traffic to his new movie. You didn’t expect to see your boyfriend coming home with a smile on the same lips he kissed someone else with, knowing that you knew–that you saw. You never expected a crowded relationship.

And maybe you didn’t expect to move on either.

“My girlfriend actually styles my outfits,” is the one of the things you didn’t expect Joe to say on national television, “Y/N is just-she’s-she’s incredible at everything honestly.”

“Hey, man, this is my girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N,” is another you also didn’t expect to hear your boyfriend say as he introduced you some celebrity friends.

“Tell me if it gets too much,” as well, with his arm around your dress-clad waist, lovingly looking at you and ignoring the flashing cameras on the red carpet.

Two years pass by, and not a day went by without you feeling loved in the relationship. Not a single day went by without Joe’s “I love you”s, or sending you silly pictures to make you laugh at work, or kissing you until you were a giggling mess. Not a single day went by with you questioning his love.

With his mouth opened slightly agape in a tiresome slumber in your arms, your hand was stroking through his soft hair, holding him as he slept through the movie he told you he’d stay awake during but you knew better—you knew him better.

“I could die right now, Clem,” Jim Carrey as Joel, told Kate Winslet in the movie playing on your shared TV, “I’m just…happy. I’ve never felt that before,” he said as they both lied on ice, hands intertwined, “I’m just exactly where I want to be.”

And you smiled, mind racing with a million memories.

Memories of Joe nervously asking you out on a date. Memories of Joe blushing when your hands had brushed for the first time. Memories of your first kiss. Memories of him holding you as you told him about your heartbreak. Memories of disagreements, where no matter how mad, the both of you never could go a day without communicating. Memories of Joe unapologetically loving you.

You released a short sigh, leaning down a little to press a soft kiss to his temple, smiling when he snuggled more into you with a small groan.

If someone had asked you: “What made the shift?” You wouldn’t know how to answer, but right there and then, with him in your arms, and with Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind playing on the TV, you knew.

He was your person.

You knew that you wanted him in your life for as long as your lungs accomodate you, and for as long as your heart beat for you, and for the love you could finally say you deserved.

It was a week later when it happened. One moment you were walking to your car after getting a new sports bra instead of your comfort one that you had been using and abusing for years, and the next, you were standing and looking at rings.

“Are you interested in Cartier, miss?” 

You smiled politely, “I’m not so sure, I’m just-I’m just looking.”

“Boyfriend? Girlfriend?” The man smiled.

“Boyfriend, yeah,” you chuckled bashfully.

The man hummed, “You look in love,” he pointed out, “Any special occasion?”

“I think,” you paused, furrowing your eyebrows a little as you gave him a smile, “I think I want to propose actually.”

His eyes went wide, and as did his smile, his fixed posture dropping as his hands went to his heart, “Oh!” He exclaimed, “We do live in modern times!” He grinned, “Come in, come in, I’ll show you the great deals.”

And you did. The man, whose name turned out to be Roberto, seemed excited as he showed you different bands; silver, gold, rose gold, thick, thin, 15% off, 40% off.

You were polite as you looked and nodded along, complimenting every ring he showed you and holding it in your palm.

“I just-Nothing really screams his name, you know?” You told him, turning around to glance at the shop.

There it was.

A flyer, stuck on the memo board they had behind the cashier stared back at you with its big, bold text screaming at you:

MAKE YOUR OWN JEWELRY!

Jewelry making workshop: 4 days, materials covered.

Ask us about the workshop!

“You have a jewellery-making workshop?” You asked Roberto, pointing at the flyer.

He hummed in confirmation, putting a ring back in its place, “It’s very fun.”

“How do I register?”

And then you found yourself having to lie about your whereabouts to Joe.

“I have a meeting with Rian Johnson tonight.”

“Hey, baby. No, trouble at work. I’ll be a little late.”

“Stressful week at work, yeah. The crew’s expected to stay late on set for two more days.”

Never would you have ever thought that you would be sitting opposite to a 57-year-old man, in overalls, as an only student in a jewellery-making workshop, melting and shaping metal.

Joe wasn’t someone who went all out and crazy with jewellery. In fact, it wasn’t a usual sighting to see him wearing rings, except years ago when he wore one on his pinky.

It was why you decided on making a simple design, and you were thankful for that because you were sure a 4-day workshop and with your minimal skills, you couldn’t do anything too complicated.

“And now,” Sid, the 57-year-old instructor, began quietly with a proud, soft smile, “Carefully put it in the box.”

You carefully held the finished ring, forgetting to breathe for a moment as you carefully put it inside the small black velvet box, a loud exhale leaving your lips as you looked at it.

“Good job, Y/N,” Sid smiled, watching you.

You laughed in excitement, not realizing that you were crying until you sniffled, “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“You made that ring, sweetheart,” Sid replied, “With your own hands. Any person who doesn’t love that is not worth keeping.”

By the time you were back, Joe was putting down his guitar, his head turning towards the door before a smile came to his face.

“Home sweet home,” he said, standing up with his arms open as he welcomed you in a hug, kissing your head, “How was your day?”

You hummed, looking at him with your arms around his waist, smiling as you replied, “It’s good now.”

“Cute,” he chuckled, leaning closer to press his lips against yours, “Have you eaten properly? You know iced coffee isn’t food, right?”

You rolled your eyes, “I had tacos,” you replied.

“Good choice,” Joe said with a smile, pecking your lips, “When are you going to rest?” He asked, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you replied, pecking his lips, “How about a dinner date on Saturday?” 

“Where?”

“Wherever you want,” you said.

“We can stay home and cook something nice, what do you think?”

“I’ll cook,” you said, “Whatever you want.”

It was when Saturday came that you realized what it was that you were about to do.

You woke up two hours before Joe from the restless sleep you got. You were an anxious mess. From making sure you were squeaky clean with a shower, to moisturizing too much, to making sure your house was spotless, to shakily preparing breakfast, you had no idea how you were going to be even a tad bit calm for the night. 

The velvet black box remained hidden in one of your purses; a place where you knew wasn’t risky because Joe never had a reason to go through your bags nor were they always in his sight.

Your heart remained frantically beating in your ribcage. Your hands remained shaking. Your mind remained alert enough to remind you to breath every minute or so.

“Mooorning,” you heard, feeling Joe’s hand on your waist before he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Good morning,” you smiled the best you could, turning to the side to place your hand on his neck as you stepped closer to kiss him.

Joe hummed, smiling as he squeezed your hip before his eyes fell on his mug of coffee, ready for him to drink, “Thank you, baby.”

You only smiled, turning around to turn off the stove on the scrambled eggs you were making for the both of you.

Mornings with Joe were always so peacefully quiet. He’d show you funny tweets, you’d show him funny TikToks, and then you’d both talk about the day you had ahead, all whilst seating beside each other, having your breakfast in the kitchen.

It was your conversation that had your calming down, but if you were to narrow it down, it was Joe’s presence that calmed you down. 

Joe was simple. He had fans left and right, he was a main character in one of the most watched shows, and he made music that could make someone ascend to heaven, but he was very simple to the core. If you were to ask Joe about his perfect day, he’d say it’d be spent with you, some music playing with a nice meal, then maybe you’d take a walk around the park before going back home to cuddle to a movie he’d sleep in the midst of.

Maybe it was why your dinner date was one where the both of you weren’t dressed up for.

Instead, you were in plaid pajama bottoms with a black t-shirt from his Djo’s Decide merch. Joe was in sweat shorts, and in a t-shirt that you had gotten him as a joke months ago that said “I ❤ MY GIRLFRIEND”, with his hair a mess.

You were thankful for the t-shirt you were wearing hiding the bulging pocket of your pants, and even more so when you both had finally sat down to eat.

“Look at thaaaat!” Joe exclaimed, looking at the food you had prepared as the both of you sat on your dinning table.

You laughed shyly, giving him a shrug, “As if you weren’t helping me with it.”

“All you,” he shook his head, taking your plate in his hand as he began to put food on it, “Tell me about your week?”

And then you fell into the effortless conversations you both did so well. Laughter, dramatic gasps, a shit ton of compliments, and more laughter were shared as you both ate.

“And then we finally made it to the show,” you concluded your story, “Thankfully, Phoebe hadn’t, like, begun her set yet so we were so fucking lucky.”

“Was she good live? I can only imagine how cool her shows are.”

“She was so good,” you replied, talking about Phoebe Bridgers, “Like, I’d tell you I had a favorite song from the live show but I just don’t. They were all so good.”

“We should go together,” he pointed at you with his fork, “You know what, I think we need a new, like, a new goal.”

“And what’s that?” You smiled, leaning your head on your hands as you looked at him.

“We should see every single artist live,” Joe dramatically replied, “I’m talking Stevie Nicks, Cardi B, Phoebe Bridgers, Niall Horan, Silk Sonic. Literally everyone.”

You laughed, “Oh yeah? Are you planning on living until we’re 150 years old?” You teased him.

“We just-It’ll be easy! How fun would that be?”

“What? For you to be seen at every single show? Do you realize how absolutely crazy fans would go if they got pictures of you at all these people’s shows?”

He waved you off, “Then they’ll know I’m having a fuck ton of fun with my girlfriend,” he replied, “It’s a nice goal. Admit it.”

“It’s nice,” you admitted with a smile, “I could actually just call Niall though,” you said, “We’re not so close but we’re friends. He’s, like, one of the nicest people to ever exist.”

“You know Niall Horan,” Joe’s eyebrows went up with a smile, “That’s cool.”

“Want me to get you an autograph?”

“Fuck off,” he laughed, tapping your leg with his underneath the table, “Wouldn’t it be a little awkward if you talked to him? You know, given that you’re, you know…”

“Harry’s ex?” You asked, watching as Joe nodded. You shrugged, “No, Niall’s a nice guy. I think we sort of became friends a little, like, beyond Harry.”

Joe nodded again, “Alright so it’s a yes to seeing Niall live,” he said, “Do you know the rest of the One Direction guys, too?”

You shook your head, “Just Niall. Harry mostly kept contact with Niall more than the rest so I only met him.”

“I would’ve cried if you were friends with Zayn, honestly,” Joe said, making you laugh, “For real. He’s–The guy’s fucking majestic.”

“And he’s so unbothered,” you said, “Like he’s just out there doing his own thing and nobody knows a thing about him.”

“Exactly,” he said before grimacing, “Are we talking about your ex’s band on our date?”

“Not anyone’s fault he was in a successful band,” you chuckled.

“He’s successful,” Joe pointed out, making you nod. “Anyway, how’s it going with Rian Johnson?” 

And then just like that, you both continued to talk some more.

It was 15 minutes later when you seemed to zone out, your mind going to the velvet box in your pocket as your heart frantically thumped against your chest, anticipating the awaited moment.

Your mind was elsewhere as you and Joe began cleaning the table, with him telling you about some pointless celebrity gossip he saw on Twitter that you both enjoyed so much.

It was when your hands were washed, that Joe wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning closer to leave a soft kiss to your neck, then cheek, then finally, your lips.

“Thank you for dinner,” he said.

“You liked it?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, a smile on your face.

“Loved it,” he said, “I love when we do that.”

“What?”

“This,” he shrugged, “Home-cooked meal, or any food really, just staying together and having a slow day,” he shrugged again, “I love it,” he said before smiling, “I love you.”

You smiled, moving your hands to his cheeks, “I love you,” you repeated. “Can I ask you a question?”

Joe hummed, nodding slightly.

 “Do you imagine us together, like, forever?” 

“Fuck yeah,” he gave you a look that screamed “What sort of question is that?” before he nodded, “Are you kidding?”

“You do?” 

“Are we not-Are we not past that point? I thought it was obvious that we were, like, in this for eternity type of thing. No joke.”

“Just making sure,” you said before taking a deep breath, “Um, just so that what I’m about to do isn’t awkward,” you slowly removed your hands from his cheeks, watchin as Joe gave you a confused look.

Shakily, your hand grabbed the velvet box in your pocket, taking it out as Joe’s eyes went to it. 

And before he knew it, you were down on one knee.

His eyes widened, a shocked grin on his face.

You cleared your throat, avoiding eye contact, “J,” you began, “I didn’t prepare a speech because I knew I’d forget it. But I want to see every artist live with you,” you said, “And I want the home-cooked meals, the slow days, I want it-Fuck, I want it all with you,” you laughed, sniffling as tears fell down in your hot cheeks before you finally looked up at him, laughing some more at his shocked expression, “Will you marry me?”

Instead of answering, Joe was down on his knees, grabbing your face in his hands as he pressed his lips on yours, one hand moving to tangle his fingers in your hair as he did.

“Yes,” he answered, out of breath, “You’re so fucking insane for that, you know? Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

You laughed in glee, wiping his tears, “Oh my God,” you laughed, kissing his lips once more.

The moment you pulled away, Joe looked down at the ring, making you remember the jewellery. You took out the ring, holding it with your fingers, “I made it,” you sheepishly and quietly said, “The waves are-It’s cheesy but we said our first I love you’s on the beach and,” you shrugged with a giggle.

“You’re unreal,” Joe shook his head in disbelief, “You had it made for me?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I made it. I made it myself,” you said, holding his hand in yours, “It was this 4-day workshop,” you said, “It’s not much, I kno-”

“Fuck ooooff,” he frowned, shaking his head, “This is the best fucking ring I have ever seen in my entire life,” he said, “You made it. You actually made it.”

Softly, you slid the ring onto his ring finger, grinning after you did so before looking at him.

Joe sniffled, letting out a small laugh as he turned his head, bringing his shoulder closer to wipe his tears before looking at his ring-clad hand, shaking his head in disbelief. 

He stood up, holding his hand out for you, “Come here,” he said, pulling you up before pulling you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you, “I love you. I love you so fucking much, yeah?”

“I love you so fucking much, too.”

[rauliskafan]

A Little Lesson in Hearts’ Desires: Part One

Authors’ Note: Happy Friday, fabulous readers!!! After so much drama for Rafael and Natalia, it’s time to check in on Maggie and Dodds. Is there trouble in paradise? Read on to find out!!! @vintagemichelle91 and I hope that you enjoy!!! And stay tuned for the second part of this “Little Lesson” later tonight!!!

           “I… I guess I’ll see you later?”

           Maggie dressed slowly and glanced over her shoulder with a small smile.

           “No. I’m taking Violetta out for pizza.”

           “Thought the counselor and the missus wanted to keep her close.”

           “They do,” Maggie replied as she buttoned up her blouse. “But they also need some time together. It’s a long road back.”

           “Good thing that they have you to smooth the way.”

            Maggie crawled back into the bed and nuzzled his neck and held his hand. Her skin was always so smooth. He could get lost in it for days...

            But how he released his fingers from her grasp.

           “Don’t be sad,” she soothed as she stroked his cheek. “It’s a girls’ night.”

           “Well I wouldn’t want to be in the way.”

           “Why would you say that?” she challenged.

           He brushed one lock of blonde hair behind her ear, trying to memorize her face to carry him through the day.

           Or longer…

           “No reason,” he said. “Don’t mind me.”

           Leaving the bed, he stared in the mirror. Soon her reflection appeared beside his. Maggie was on her tip toes, on pointe as she would say, her chin on his shoulder.

           “I mind this,” she teased as she touched his frown and tried to turn it right side up. He obliged, barely, and hung his head.

           “Are you really alright?” she asked.

           “Sure.”

           “Sure?” she echoed. “No, Mike. I’m not buying it.”

           So many things he wanted to say, to share with her. But not now. When she had places to be… other people to see…

           “It’s nothing,” he said as he shuffled towards the bathroom, her voice following him.

           “Mike, can you please talk to me?”

           “What do you want me to say?”

           “For starters, why are you a million miles away? Did something happen? Did I do---?”

           “It’s not you,” he swore. Not by a long shot. Not when she was so light and sweet.

           “Could have fooled me,” she said as she slid her arms into her denim jacket, twirling the ring with his key dangling from the silver and suddenly frozen in place.

           “Do I need to guess?” she asked. The truth was on the tip of his tongue, something that always came back to him after a conversation with his mother. That was late last night, before Maggie showed up. And the woman could do nothing but talk about her younger son. Second but first in every way. Suddenly he was five again, having to make do with the smaller piece of cake, lagging behind during walks to the park. Sure his father tried to make up for it. But just a few words from his mother’s lips always ripped open an old scab, her toxins infecting his bloodstream until he was left scared and shaking and less than.

           Maggie deserved so much more than that.

           “It’s nothing,” he mumbled. “Enjoy the pizza.”

           He hit the shower but didn’t run the water until he heard the door close behind her. A little voice at the back of his head told him that he was screwing up a good thing. But wasn’t she bound to wise up one of these days? Maybe it was better to beat her to the punch and try to lessen the force of the blow.

           Because he loved her too much to let down. Which his mother warned would happen.

           As it did from the moment he was born even as he never understood exactly why.

           “Mikey! Breakfast is on me!” his father cried out as soon their eyes locked. The one person who got him through the dark years to this day. He looked ten years younger as he bought egg and cheese sandwiches from the nearest cart and they took their meal on foot, the city passing them by at breakneck speed as he chewed and swallowed and smiled before taking another bite.

           “I’m telling you that kid is really something,” his father started. “Pizza. We ordered pizza last night.”

           Did kids eat anything else nowadays?

           “No extra pepperoni? No problem for Noah! He just took it off my slice! The boy knows his own mind and makes things happen.”

           “Does he now?”

           His father stopped in his tracks and stared at him hard.

           “Something on your mind, Mike?”

           “No, Dad,” he muttered. “Just didn’t get too much sleep last night.”

           “Maggie to blame for that?” his father joked as he slapped his arm.

           “This isn’t on her.”

           “You sure about that?”

           “You know something I don’t?” he asked. It would make sense. Maybe Maggie already realized that the grass was greener elsewhere. He envisioned her telling Natalia in some warped game of telephone, the truth passing from her to the counselor to the lieutenant and ultimately reaching his father’s ears. And for all of his father’s skills, explaining away the disappointments and telling him to soldier on was first and foremost in his arsenal.

           “Because you turned white as a ghost as soon as I mentioned her name.”

           “Did I?” Dodds asked. “Maybe I’m just coming down with something.

           “Hope it’s not a case of cold feet,” his father said, the scent of his breath mingling with the fumes from the street as Dodds tossed his meal in the nearest trashcan, shrugging his shoulders.

           “I’m fine. I have to be, right?”

           He was ready to take his leave when his father barred his path and scanned his face.

           “I told you to do that so you make it through to the other side.”

           “So here I am.”

           “Here you are,” his father said. “And I’m so proud of you.”

           “Is that a fact, Dad?”

           His father’s laughter made him regret asking the question and he started to turn his back again.

           “Always, son.”

           His father’s voice drifted off and Dodds felt his legs wanting to buckle when the older man hugged him close and whispered into his ear.

           “I have a second chance, Mikey. Don’t mess up the first one.”

           “I’m not trying to,” he insisted. “But sometimes I think---”

           “That girl is crazy about you. Don’t you think it’s time that you…?”

           He punctuated the question with a smirk, and Dodds tried to read the answer when his father pulled away and cleared his throat.

           “I know you talk to your mother last night.”

           The telephone game in a different form.

           “What did she say?”

           “About you? Nothing. Always Matt. I know I didn’t do right by that boy.”

           “Dad, it’s not your---”

           “Yes it is. And as much as I’d love to take credit for you, you’re your own man. The only way you could ever let me down is if you throw away happiness with both hands. Please tell me you won’t do that.”

           They walked the rest of the way to the precinct in silence before he looked at his father again.

           “I’m in love with her, Dad.”

           “Then it’s high time you did something about it. But not because I say so. Because it’s what you want.”

           With a pat on the back, his father was gone, leaving him on the street as he thought of Maggie smiling, leaving him little poems when she left their bed first to tend to Violetta, bursting into laughter when she tried to teach him a grand jete and he made a fool of himself even as she hugged him close and said that he would make Baryshnikov blush.

           To spend the rest of his life with her was what he wanted most in the world, and when his father was right he was spot on.

           Time to do something about it.

           As he entered the precinct, he saw uniforms taking off with Rollins and Carisi on their heels and hardly a good morning. He sat at his desk. Time that should have been spent on case files turned into a Google search for jewelry. Diamonds resting on silver and gold bands. It had to be perfect.

           Just like her.

           “What’s up?”

           Fiddling with the mouse in a fruitless effort to minimize the browser, Dodds turned to see Fin looking at him with one eyebrow cocked and his arms folded across his chest.

           “Detective. Didn’t think you were on the clock today.”

           “Catching up on some paperwork,” Fin said. “Can’t say the same for you.”

           Baryshnikov would never blush at these moves, and Dodds knew he was caught as he let Fin take a peek at his search and heard him whistle.

           “About time!” he said as he slapped his back. “Wouldn’t want someone else to snatch her up!”

           His nearly empty stomach flipped in a clumsy somersault.

           “I don’t,” he confessed. “You think she’ll say yes?”

           His old fears started to creep up as Fin pulled up a chair and lowered his voice.

           “Let me talk to you like a trained detective.”

           “Okay.”

           “When Maggie looks at you… that’s the thing people write songs about. I’m not gonna lie to you; it’s enough to make a man jealous.”

           His mind flashed back to the night of Adam Conway at the microphone and he started to tense. When Maggie promised Fin a dance.

           “Are you saying… do you…?”

           “I’m talking about the look, Dodds,” he continued. “Wanting that and the chance to show someone like her a ring. Maggie wants you to be the one. But a smart girl like that doesn’t wait around forever. Even if you’re her first choice.”

           He liked that sound of that; trusted the words even more as they came out of Fin’s mouth as he beckoned the detective closer.

           “I’ll keep the receipt,” Dodds started. “Just in case she doesn’t like it.”

           “She will and you cannot do that,” Fin said. “Gotta go into this sure. No returns on happily ever after.”

           He liked the sound of that even more. He would tell her he’d spent a lifetime waiting in the wings, doing as he was told to keep the peace. But if he waited backstage now it was only to see her dance. There would be peace if she stood at his side. This was like the Christmas Eve of his wildest imagination. Maggie was the present, and a whole new world contained started to take---

           “Are you two working or what?”

           Dodds turned his head as soon as the ADA entered and jumped up, clasping Rafael by his arms.

           “How would you like to have a brand-new brother-in-law?”

           “Man, you’re not proposing to him,” Fin chuckled. Stepping back, Dodds struggled to speak as the counselor sighed.

           “And I’m not really in the market for a ring,” Rafael quipped. “But a gold watch would work out just fine.”

           “Sorry,” Dodds said as Fin laughed. “I’m just a little… I’m going to ask Maggie to marry me.”

           “I figured that much out,” Rafael said, his voice warming as he walked Dodds back to his desk and joined Fin at the computer screen.

           “But not with that.”

           “What do you mean?”

           “I mean that Maggie needs something better than Kay’s fare,” Rafael continued. “I know a place. I’d take you there if I could. But…”

           His phone buzzed; the counselor said that he had to be in court before time and Dodds fell back in his chair, fearing that he was going to botch this up when the ADA’s fingers flicked wildly against his phone and he spoke even faster.

           “Natalia will meet you on your lunch break,” he started. “She knows what Maggie likes.”

           “She’s not going to tell her that---”

           “My wife?” Rafael challenged.

           “Maggie… I mean she must tell her things.”

           “And she shares them with me,” Rafael said as the game of telephone flooded his mind again. “But spoil a surprise? Not Natalia.”

           The counselor’s phone chimed and he smiled at the response.

           “Natalia’s excited,” he assured the sergeant. “You won’t mind if Violetta comes along?”

           “I… yes!!! I don’t care.”

           “Do not let her hear you say that,” Rafael suggested. “She might stop liking you best.”

           “Best?” Dodds echoed.

           “Of her tios,” he said. “Carisi has the food. Fin the wisecracks.”

           “Hey!” Fin called out.

           “But you have Maggie. So of course you’re her favorite.”

           Dodds went through the rest of the morning in a kind of haze. How to play this? If he so much as spoke to Maggie, he knew that he would game away. Could he avoid her for two full days? It would be torture. But worth it at the prospect of a lifetime.

           “Tio Mike!”

           He hugged Violetta closely when he saw her and Natalia waiting on the sidewalk.

           “You going to be part of the family!”

           “He already is,” Natalia gently corrected. “But nothing wrong with putting a ribbon on it.”

           “She still needs to say yes,” Dodds reminded them.

           “Please,” Violetta scoffed as she rolled her eyes and Natalia started to wax poetic at the perfection of Rafael’s proposal.

           “What you do, Tio Mike?” Violetta asked.

           “I… I sort of have an idea,” he said.

           “I’m sure it’s a good one,” Natalia smiled.

           “If you’ll help,” he answered. “Can I count on you?”

           Natalia agreed as Violetta tugged on his sleeve until he lifted her off the ground and she pressed her small hands to his smiling face.

           “But first we need the ring!”