LINDY STOOD BY the sink, warm water gently rushing over her hands as she scrubbed at the dirty dishes that had been set aside once Frances's party ended. In her childhood, she had hated washing dishes and it had always been her least favorite chore that Lee assigned. Yet now, there was something soothing about the mix of soap and water against her skin in the quiet kitchen.

Everyone had left in high spirits, exchanging hugs and promises of reuniting soon. It was a strange but delightful thing to have witnessed. Never would Lindy have guessed that Wendy O'Connor would hug and kiss her brother goodbye like he was one of her own children. Even watching Krist and Dave wave goodbye to little Hannah had been a special moment.

Frances had been the last to leave, her nanny Jackie having come to pick her up. Since there was no room for her to stay in the apartment, Kurt and Lindy had reluctantly agreed to send her back to Courtney rather than host a sleepover. It was disappointing watching Frances leave them both, but until they settled their decision on a house, they would not officially live together as a family.

"You should let me do that," came Kurt's voice from the kitchen entrance.

"I've got it. It's sort of my thing."

"Your thing?" he laughed, walking up behind Lindy with his hands dug into his patched jeans pockets. He removed them in order to rope his arms around Lindy, pressing his body against her back in a way that made her dizzy with happiness.

"Yes, it's a coping mechanism," Lindy said distantly. She was too busy focusing on the fact that she could feel every part of Kurt's frontside against her. It had been far too long since she had felt that feeling.

"So basically what you're saying is, all that stress that I put you through turned you into a lover of dish washing?"

"You didn't put me through that much stress," Lindy quipped.

"Don't lie," Kurt whispered. His breath tickled her ear, and Lindy suddenly remembered how long it had been since they had been completely alone together, let alone intimate. It would have been ideal if she could have ravenously taken him back to her bedroom, but the large bump of her pregnant belly lessened her sexual prowess by a substantial amount.

"It's all better now," she insisted, shutting off the sink and turning in Kurt's arms. She let out a giggle when her bump put a blockage between them, and even Kurt grinned and looked down at the newly placed division.

"You know what's funny? I thought that once I left rehab, I wouldn't be able to cope with the guilt. I thought that all I'd be able to talk about was how sorry I was for what I did to you. But seeing you happy . . . I don't know what it is. It's like as soon as I walked out of those doors with you, I forgot everything that I was worried about. That's never happened to me before."

"There's a first for everything," Lindy said. She dried her hands and then linked them behind Kurt's neck, noting mentally that she must have been the luckiest woman in the world to not only have him, but to be carrying his child.

She was nearly about to kiss him when she gasped, her hand flying to her stomach as she felt a sharp, unexpected nudge from the inside of her belly. There had been several occurrences in which Lindy had felt the odd sensation of movement from inside her womb, but this was the first time it had taken her breath away, causing her feet to lift off the ground in astonishment.

"What is it?" Kurt demanded anxiously, his eyes darting from her face to her stomach.

"Baby's kicking," Lindy said breathlessly, pressing the palm of her hand against the underneath of her stomach. Sure enough, she felt another abrupt jolt against her abdomen. She uttered an amazed laugh, unable to believe that the commotion going on inside of her was coming from her baby's legs.

"Feel," she instructed Kurt, grabbing his hand and placing it in the spot where hers had been. A few brief seconds passed before once more, the baby kicked, this time against Kurt's hand. His eyes grew in size and she could feel his fingers press harder against the skin beneath her shirt.

"Holy shit," Kurt stammered out. Both of his hands felt around Lindy's belly, moving along with their baby as he or she adjusted themselves from inside Lindy's womb. Lindy bit the inner corner of her lip as she watched Kurt match the pattern of the baby's movement with his handprints — this was the moment she had dreamt of, endlessly waiting for his release from rehab.

This is why his life had been so preciously special. It was the reason why she had begged him to live even when he had wanted more than anything to die.

"I think Bean Number Two wants out," Kurt observed, causing Lindy to laugh through a sniffle of joyous tears.

"Bean Number Two? Is that the official name?"

"No," Kurt said uncertainly, lightly pulling his fingers down the curve of Lindy's baby bump. "I just haven't come up with anything better yet."

"Me neither," Lindy confessed.

They stood in silence, Kurt palming her belly for any more signs of the baby's kicks before he gave up, deciding that all the action had wrapped for the night. Kurt appeared uncomfortable, shifting his weight from his left foot to his right.

"Does . . . does the baby always do that?"

Lindy stared sympathetically into Kurt's eyes, automatically understanding why he came off as suddenly being bothered. It was predictable of him to feel immense guilt over not knowing the routine of his baby, unsure if Lindy had ever felt its kick before when he was not there to feel it too. It was another acknowledgment of the fact that Kurt had missed out on seven months of his baby's prenatal life, leaving Lindy to deal with her pregnancy alone.

"Not like that, no," Lindy said gently, touching her stomach. "It's probably because the baby knows you're here. Wants to show off, and all that."

Kurt cracked a smile, but it was pained, hiding the remorse tinkering with his heart. He could have gone ahead and told Lindy that he wished he could have made those seven long months up to her, but then there would have been no treatment, no disintegration of the addiction that had taken over his life. He'd chosen his health, and that was the biggest favor he could have done for both Lindy and their baby.

"We can't call the baby 'it' forever, you know," Kurt reminded her.

"Yeah, but I'm awful at name-picking. I didn't come up with anything while you were away. I was pretty much waiting for you."

"I think I have to see the baby first," Kurt said carefully, eyeing Lindy's belly. She laughed.

"See the baby? Why?"

"I just don't think I can give a name to someone that I haven't met yet. I've got to know their character first. Does that make sense?"

Lindy smiled, amused. To someone else, Kurt's reasoning may have not made a lick of sense, but to her, it was simple.

"Yeah I get it. I can agree with that. Nothing will ever compare to Frances's name, though. How are we supposed to top that?"

"I'll know," Kurt assured Lindy quickly. "As soon as I look into his or her eyes, I'll have the name. Trust me."

Lindy nodded with a smile, beginning to turn so that she could mop up any water spots on the kitchen counter when Kurt caught her by the elbow, spinning her back forwards so that she faced him. He reached for her neck, caressing the skin near her collarbone with pinched eyebrows.

"Your ring. You're not wearing it."

"Oh," Lindy said, taken aback. "I have it. Hold on."

She rushed into her bedroom and to her nightstand, opening the top drawer and plucking the ring out where it laid on top of a novel. She returned to the kitchen and opened her hand to reveal its gleam, throwing its usual stream of rainbows around the kitchen when it caught the light.

"Don't you want it on your finger?" Kurt asked quietly, taking the ring and hooking it around his fingertip.

"You were still with Courtney . . ." Lindy pointed out, recalling her earlier agreement with Kurt when he had first proposed to her.

"I'm not now," Kurt said. "It's official. We're done."

"Right," Lindy agreed in a soft voice. She'd almost forgotten that Kurt and Courtney were no longer husband and wife. According to the courts, they were separated, their marriage a thing of the past. It had happened so fast that it had skipped her mind, minuscule compared to the days she'd spent counting down Kurt's homecoming.

"Will you wear it now?"

"Of course I will."

Lindy made a move to take the ring back, but Kurt jerked it away, inhaling sharply and stopping her with his hand.

"No, wait. I've got to . . . I've got to do this right."

"Right?" Lindy repeated confusedly.

Kurt took her hand and led her out of the kitchen, bringing her into the living room and standing in front of her with the anxiousness of a school aged boy about to ask a girl to the prom. He was breathing deeply, looking at the ring as if seeking its guidance.

And then he got down on his knee.

"Oh, Kurt," Lindy said, clapping one hand to the side of her face. "You don't have to do that. Seriously."

It was a romantic gesture nonetheless, a classic moment of a man proclaiming his love for a woman. But it was too traditional for Kurt. Lindy could see that, watching him awkwardly balance on one knee and hold the ring out to her with hopeful eyes.

"Let me do it," he argued. "It's the least I can give you after the hell you went through, all for me."

"You've given me everything," Lindy contested, her eyes moving to her stomach. Kurt giving her a baby had been plenty of enough.

"Shhh," Kurt hushed, grabbing her hand and holding it tightly in his. He looked so out of place on bended knee in front of her, holding an expensive diamond ring that in any other setting he would have deemed overly lavish. But no matter how unfitting, there was still something perfectly right about Kurt proposing again.

Lindy thought back to the night of the Raymond party, the first time she had ever seen Kurt perform. He had stood in front of all those people with a determined passion written across his face, lost in the pleasure of music-making with his guitar firmly in hand.

He had that similar look on his face right then. Except it wasn't music that he faced, but the unwavering desire to declare his love for Lindy in the very last way he could after years of already doing so. He would make her his wife, give her his last name, and one day die not alone, but with her.

Always with her.

"Lindy Clayton," Kurt began, making Lindy smile hugely to hear him speak with such seriousness. "I should have done this a long, long time ago. Hell, if I had had the money for a ring back in Aberdeen, I probably would have done it then. But I guess it all worked out. Anyways. Linds, I love you. Always have. Always will. Will you marry me?"

Lindy nodded eagerly, allowing Kurt to slide the ring on. For the first time ever, its silvery band slipped over the knuckle of her ring finger, finally finding its place on her hand where it would forever stay.

"Yes," she said, unable to hold back an elated sob. "Of course I will."

Kurt stood up, smiling proudly and looking highly relieved to have finally made a proper proposal. He kissed Lindy's forehead, pulling her against him and running his hands down her cascade of brown hair.

"Thank you," he whispered.

He did not specify what he was thanking her for, but Lindy did not ask.

She didn't need to know.