WHO: Ian Bell & Elizabeth Fortescue
WHAT: Proposals!
WHEN: November '78
WHERE: A fancy restaurant.
NOTE: Liz → Sean
He had no bloody idea what he was doing.
Well, okay--so he knew what he was doing, but for the life of him, Ian Bell couldn't figure out what had brought him to do--no, no, that wasn't right, he knew why he was doing it too. It was just--fuck, he was going crazy. What it was was the insane thought that less than four months ago, had you asked him when he was going to want to settle down with a girl and start a family, he would have laughed in your face. Not any time soon. Heck, probably not for another ten, fifteen years, until his career was officially over, he could retire and have time for it.
Never had he imagined that he would be standing here today, the fourth of November, 1978, at the age of 22, looking into the face of the woman that had him making time.
He felt the sudden urge to run and hide. To be honest, Ian didn't know for sure if he was ready for this. As his fingers brushed over the velvet box in his pocket, something inside him was telling him it didn't matter. Life came at you fast, and you had to take it and run with it. His gut had been telling him for a while now that life wanted him to commit, to just get up the guts to do this because if he didn't, he was going to be missing out on a lot that he could have otherwise had. He was going to ask her, and he was going to ask her now. It was the time now, not later.
Oh shit.
Okay, so maybe a few more minutes wouldn't ruin destiny's eternal plans too horribly.
Ian coughed nervously and nodded across the table to Liz. "How's the dessert?"
Liz was bloody starving. She supposed it made sense, what with the whole eating for two, but every time Ian took her out to eat, she felt as though she were running the business under with how much food she stuffed into her mouth. She couldn't imagine how much her daughter, who was barely even baby shaped at the moment (11 weeks and it still looked like a ruddy alien, if you asked her) could require so much food, but apparently she did. It probably had something to do with the fact that she threw up at least half of the meal later. Ugh. She would say that she was totally over being pregnant but it would be a complete lie. Liz found herself enjoying it so much more than she thought she could have. Every once in a while, she'd stop, put her hand on her stomach, and just smile at the thought that something she and Ian created in love (albeit drunken love!) was currently nestled safely inside of her.
She sighed heavily, taking another large bite from the cake that she'd ordered for dessert (after eating her entire appetizer, her meal, and part of his) and nodded. Her mouth was full or she would have informed him just how wonderful the sweet was in her own words. Swallowing roughly, she gave a light smile, before taking another bite, this one a bit smaller than the last.
"It's delicious," she said finally, praying that she hadn't just sprayed crumbs onto the table clothe by accident. Oy, her manners were slipping.
Ian returned her smile, the light in her eyes driving away for a second all of his nervousness. But only a split second. She went back to her cake and all of a sudden the panic was creeping up on him again, trying to make him choke on his words--but he wouldn't let it. He had to do this, because of the way she smiled at him like that.
He just hoped she'd still be smiling in a few minutes, and not making his throat a practice target for her silverware-throwing skills.
"Uh, Liz..." Ian's voice came out a bit strained, and he cleared his throat, hand closing around the box in his pocket as if to give him resolve. "I wanted to... ask you something."
Liz paused when he said her name, placing her fork down and looking at him curiously. He had the same nervous air to him that she'd had when she was trying to tell him about the baby (who still needed a bloody name! Michelle... Karen... Elizabeth Jr? Oh, fuck that one...) and she couldn't help but be a little confused by it. He certainly wasn't pregnant, that was for sure. Or at least she... didn't think that was possible. Who knew with the advances in magic now-a-days, yeah?
She sounded old. Ew.
Clearing her throat, she tilted her head, and nodded. "So go on and ask it?"
Ian nodded tensely, pretty sure that she could see him shaking from over there. She had to, because it felt like he was about to jump out of his skin and fuck, she really was the one if she could do that to him. Maybe--maybe he'd feel steadier if he just went on and got down on one knee already and--oh, he already was bu the time that thought was over, this was all happening so fast and---
"Right, so. I--I know that you're looking at me right now and you know what I'm doing, because why else does any guy get down on one knee in front of the girl they love? And I know you told me you'd kill me if I did this, but you only said you'd kill me if I did it because of the baby, and... And I think that means that you shouldn't be able to kill me, as long as I'm down here because I want to tell you that I'm in love with you and I don't think I can wait a full six months to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you starting now, and so I really hope you won't try to murder me because it would be a shame to die without you being my wife. So, uh... Elizabeth Fortescue, will you put down that knife and marry me?"
Oh, that had to be the worst speech he'd ever given, but at least it was over now. Ian pulled his hand from his pocket, velvet box in hand, and opened it to show her the ring.
Liz had frozen the moment that Ian had gotten down on one knee. She stared at him rather wide-eyed through his entire speech, her hands wringing the napkin in her lap and she suddenly felt very, very nervous herself. Marriage. Proposal. Commitment. Baby equaled commitment too of course but fuck this was... This was like... Spending the rest of your life with someone commitment and that was SO different than raising a baby commitment and she was pretty sure she was going to die. Liz had never been very good at this whole relationships thing and she always convinced herself nothing was permanent. She left when it seemed to be. She had been just as bad as Ian, whens he thought about it, and... and...
"Yes."
Did she just say that? She just said that. Why did she just say that? The word came out before she had even realized she was agreeing. Her mind immediately started to go through all the reasons why she'd said yes, the fact that she knew she loved him and knew it would be the stupidest fucking thing she'd ever done if she said no being right at the top of her list. She stared at him, before impatiently saying; "Will you put the bloody ring on my finger already!"
