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He'd had to get the entire door replaced at the end of it.

The blast from Root's shotgun had sent pellets into the door itself and the wall, which the landlord had tsked and sighed over, wondering how such a horrific attack could happen in such a relatively safe building. John had assured him over and over it was simply a case of mistaken identity and that the shooter was in custody -- he's a police officer, after all -- and with Karen's support, they'd managed not to get kicked out of their home due to endangering the lives of the other tenants with their ways.

"We're lucky we're as respectable as we are," John had murmured to Karen as the work had been done, doing his best not to smile.

But here they are now, with a new door, the wall patched and repainted, and John has come up with a new plan to ask Karen to marry him.

It's a little more complicated than the last time, but not much more so. When they both left the apartment in the morning, John had kissed Karen goodbye and promised not to be home late, then doubled back as soon as she was out of view and returned to the apartment to prepare for the evening. He's taken care not to make anything in the living room or kitchen look out of the ordinary, not wanting her to guess at his intentions too early, but the bedroom is covered with vases of flowers of all kinds.

And then he cooks. He spends all day cooking and preparing. It's one thing John knows how to do that he doesn't get to break out often, but his mother had taught him how to cook a long time ago and he's happy to get to use these skills now, preparing a thoughtful and delicious four course meal for Karen, from soup, to starter, to main and then dessert.

The ring is in his pocket. The flowers are in the bedroom. He's ready for this.

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John reaches across the table to take Karen's hand, the ring box still held lightly in the palm of his other, and he runs his thumb gently across the back of her knuckles. In thinking about this, he had imagined he might be nervous or the right words wouldn't come, but now, sitting here with Karen, he doesn't feel nervous at all.

"I love you," he says simply. "I think I probably loved you from that first day we met, when I woke up in the hospital and found you had already become my wife just so you could stay and make sure I was okay."

He opens the ring box then, holding it toward Karen. "I know this place probably can't give us forever, but I also know I want to spend whatever time we do have together. Will you marry me, Karen?"

Even knowing what this is and where it's going, Karen still feels her heart skip a beat when he opens the ring box. They may have discussed this already and determined from doing so that they want the same thing, but there's a big difference between talking about it in theory and having it actually happen. This isn't someday; it's now, and they're really doing this. She knows, of course, what her answer is even before he's finished speaking. It doesn't require any real thought. He's right that things just made sense from the start, even if neither of them could have known it at the time, and the life they've built from that, no matter how unconventional, is the one she wants. She can't imagine there being anyone who could fit better with her.

No amount of common sense or certainty or prior discussion could override the emotions that come with something this significant. Her smile widens, her eyes just a little watery, as she nods enthusiastically. "Yes," she says. "Yes, of course I will."

John doesn't smile often, not widely, but at that one simple word, at that first yes, a smile bursts across his face that he couldn't have controlled even if he wanted to. Karen's answer isn't a surprise, they've discussed it, they've both known it this coming, but even so, her response brings him a surge of happiness, the kind he knows he hasn't felt with anyone else since Jessica.

Still smiling, he gets up from his seat and goes around the table to take her hand, wanting to put the ring on himself. He'd taken care to get it sized properly so it fits when he slides it onto her finger and he exhales shakily at the sight of it, surprised by just how deeply it affects him to see it there.

"If you don't like it, we can get you something else," he says and it's a stupid thing to say when he's this happy, but the words just seem to come out. For the first time, John doesn't quite have control of his faculties.

"No, it's perfect," Karen says quickly, a little breathless, as she glances down at the ring he's slid onto her finger. Growing up, she was never really the kind of girl who fantasized about her future wedding and planned out all the details. A few times here of late, she's caught herself looking at displays of rings in windows, but even then, she hasn't put much thought into anything concrete, hasn't pictured what her ideal engagement ring would look like or anything of the sort. Looking at this, though, the size and color of it, nothing too huge and gaudy, it seems just right, something she might have picked out for herself if she had started trying to do so. "I love it."

Her cheeks starting to hurt from smiling, she looks up again from the ring to John. "I love you."

John is still smiling as he gently tugs on Karen's hands to pull her to her feet and he wraps his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair. He feels almost nervous with pleasure, happy to be here with her, happier than he had ever imagined he would feel over getting engaged.

But Karen is different than anyone else he's ever known.

"I love you," he echoes softly, then pulls back a little so he can kiss her. For so long he'd held himself apart from her, not wanting to cause any trouble in a very good friendship and knowing himself well enough to feel it was probably better for her to do so. But this is better by far. This is everything he's wanted.

The ring isn't just perfect, but all of this is. Karen may not have been one to plan ahead about all of this, but now that it's happened, she can't imagine anything better, anything more right. It's simple and quiet and private, no roles to play and no one else around, a fairly normal night instead of an absurd amount of fanfare. With the kind of work they so often do, it makes something like this all the more appealing, part of a life that's just theirs rather than one they've taken on out of necessity and for show. She wouldn't give any of the rest of it up, but she wants this, too. She can't imagine herself fitting better with anyone else.

She could say something, and maybe she should, but for the time being, all she really wants is to bask in this, her arms draping around his neck as she leans into the kiss. This is a moment worth savoring, one she wants to hold onto for as long as she can.