The afternoon sun slanted low across the backyard, lighting everyone in warm orange hues despite the chill rolling in from the bay.  Even in early May, it wasn't quite warm at night in Northern California.  Having grown up in Napa, CJ was quite used to the chilly nights, and emerged from the house carrying an extra cardigan -- the one Evan had accidentally tossed in the dryer -- and handed it over to Donna, who was still adjusting to life in the San Francisco Bay.

"Thanks," Donna said, slipping into the sweater.

CJ noted with no small measure of irritation that the sleeves fit Donna just perfectly; no gawky, exposed wrists for her.  She glanced around the backyard until she caught sight of her boyfriend, then fixed him with a glare.

Busy behind the grill, it took a moment for him to realize she was watching him.  When he locked eyes with her, she mock-scowled and pointed at the sweater.  Evan's warm brown eyes wrinkled a bit at the corners as he laughed at her, shaking his head.  "Deal with it," he mouthed.

Donna watched CJ watch Evan, then leaned over and poked her.

"Hey," CJ yelped.  "What was that for?"

"Why are you glaring at Evan?  He's making sure everyone's food is perfect.  If I didn't know better, I'd think he was perfect," Donna pointed out.

"Far from it," CJ snorted.

"So you say," Donna countered lightly.  "But I've yet to see evidence of any faults, you regularly come into work looking quite smug--"

"Donna!"

"--and he's a damn good-looking man," Donna finished.

CJ glowered at her for a moment.  "He's horribly late all the time, he can't do the laundry to save his life, he sleeps through the alarm even when it's shrieking loud enough to wake the neighbors, and his grasp on national politics is tenuous at best."

"CJ," Donna laughed, "give it a rest!  You're a pain in the ass.  And you didn't write a searing novel about the plight of the black man in modern America."

"True," CJ allowed, her lips pursed slightly.  "But then, I'm not a black man in America, so..."

Donna rolled her eyes.  "You didn't write a novel about the plight of tall, white, former press secretaries in mod--"

"Oh, stuff it," CJ laughed, her gaze sliding back to Even, who glanced over at her and smiled.  Despite her litany of his faults, she found herself grinning back like an idiot.

"You," Donna said, "are so smitten."

"I am not," CJ protested.  She watched Evan some more, surprised that she could tell merely from the tiny wrinkle between his eyebrows that the smoke was starting to bother him.  "He's ignoring me," she decided.  Then she took a swig of beer and gave Donna a beseeching look.  "When did I become That Girl?  When did I start to care about my boyfriend paying attention to me or not at a barbeque?  I'm perfectly capable of entertaining myself.  Hell, I'm among friends," CJ leaned over and clanked the neck of her beer bottle against Donna's.  "Why should I care if he'd rather spend his time behind that damn grill?"

"I have no idea," Donna answered honestly.

"Me, neither," CJ admitted.  She thought maybe she'd take a break from the beer; she was starting to feel a little amorous, and she figured abandoning their guests in favor of a quick trip to the bedroom was probably not the best idea she'd had lately.  "Why is he spending all his time behind that damn grill?"

"Well, you did lure all these people here with promises of food," Donna said, glancing at the small crowd in the backyard.  "And he's pretty much the best cook ever."

CJ laughed outright.  "Hardly.  You haven't been subjected to his desserts."

"So he can't bake," Donna shrugged.  "There are worse faults.  And his chicken cordon bleu is to die for."

CJ allowed herself a small, slightly daffy smile in agreement.  Then she turned to Donna and lowered her voice.  "You know--"

"No," Donna interrupted, eyes wide.  "I know that voice.  Let me say it again, just to emphasize:  No!"

"Donna--"

"CJ, I've got a full time job and classes three nights a week.  When, exactly, am I supposed to fit in a series of pathetic first dates?" Donna looked away suddenly, her eyes sparkling.

"Donna," CJ said softly, cursing herself for an idiot.  Donna obviously still loved Josh, even though she hadn't seen him in almost two years.

"Don't worry about it, CJ," Donna answered.  "Just kill the blind date ideas before they kill you.  Or I kill you."

CJ nodded.  From behind the barbeque, Evan shouted, "Everyone got food?"  A series of mumbles and grunts were his only response, as most of the guests were loathe to stop eating the heavenly grilled chicken.  The corner of Evan's mouth quirked upwards.  "Excellent."

He made himself a plate of food and headed for CJ and Donna, threading his way through the crowd of friends with a smile.  "You liked it?" Evan asked Donna as he reached them, dropping into a lawn chair.

Donna tilted her head towards the table where her conspicuously empty plate sat.  "You could say that.  CJ had to restrain me or I'd have been licking the plate," she grinned.  "You sure you don't want to come live in my tiny apartment and, you know, cook for me?"

Evan laughed.  "You're welcome to come over for dinner whenever you want."

"Hey," CJ protested, "don't tell her that!  She's a woman on a budget; she'll actually be here every night if we let her."

"I would not!" Donna protested.

Evan placed his heaping plate on the table beside him and stood.  "You ladies need anything?"

"Where are you going?" CJ asked.

He flashed a grin.  "For beer, my dear."

CJ groaned.  "Stop with the rhymes, I beg of you."

Donna laughed, and Evan gave her a half-bow.  Then he smirked at CJ, "See?  Someone appreciates me."

"Nah," CJ shot back, "She's just laughing because I told her about your complete inability to do a load of laundry."

Evan chuckled and walked off, stopping several feet away and turning back to the women.  "Oh, CJ?  Hold this for me, would you?"

That was all the warning CJ got before a small, dark object came hurtling towards her.  "Evan!"  She managed to catch it one-handed, but Evan was already halfway across the lawn.  He knelt before the coolers, digging around for a beer.

CJ glanced down at the soft object in her hand and froze.

"CJ?" Donna asked, noticing her friend's sudden stillness.  "What is it?"

"I don't know," CJ admitted, staring down at the small, velvet box.

Leaning closer, Donna caught sight of the jewelry box and raised both eyebrows.  "Wow," she grinned.  "This barbecue just got really interesting."

"Shut up," CJ answered good-naturedly.  Then she locked eyes with Evan, who was sauntering back across the lawn to her.  "Hey, Evan?"

"Yeah?" he asked, feigning innocence.  He took a long swig as he approached, stopping a few feet away from her.

She grinned at him.  "Why are you throwing things at me?"

His generous mouth quirked upwards.  "I thought all women wanted to be showered with jewelry."

CJ glanced around, pointedly ignoring Donna's eager grin and the sudden attention of the rest of their guests.

"That, my dear," CJ answered, "is a figurative statement.  You'd think an acclaimed writer would know the difference between literal and figurative.  Besides which, I'm pretty sure women don't actually expect jewelry to be lobbed at their heads."

Evan laughed outright.  "I tossed it.  Gently."

"I am not a catcher, Evan," CJ answered primly, but her lips twitched with the effort of hiding her amusement.

"And yet you caught it," Evan noted.

"You're getting off the subject," CJ told him.  "Why are you tossing jewelry at me?"

Evan shook his head at her in exasperation.  "Have you even looked inside the box?"

"No," CJ answered quickly, ignoring the small stab of anxiety in her gut.  "You're sure this isn't a joke of some kind?"

Evan clasped one hand over his heart in mock pain.  "Have you ever known me to toy with your emotions?"

"Daily," CJ answered, grinning.  She still didn't open the box, awaiting some kind of explanation from Evan.

"Oh, for the love of God!"  Donna interjected impatiently.  "Do you want me to open it?"

"No," CJ answered quickly, holding the box protectively to her chest.  "I just want Evan to swear there's not something ridiculous in here.  Like..." she waved her beer bottle around a bit, "a candy necklace or something."

"You know, I really thought this would only take a minute or two," Evan observed, smirking at CJ.  "I mean, what woman would sit there, hemming and hawing over what's in the damn box instead of just opening it?"

CJ tried to glare at him.  "This woman.  And if this is what I think it is--"  She started to grin when he raised his eyebrows, because that's the face he made when she guessed correctly-- "you're going to just have to deal with it for quite a while."

Evan took a step towards her.  "Are you saying yes?"

"To what?" CJ asked innocently.  "I don't recall hearing a question."

"Oh, you're gonna make me say it?" he grinned, drawing ever closer.

"That or tell me what's in the box," CJ said, handing her beer to Donna and standing up to face Evan.  She had a sneaking suspicion that she was beaming at him like an idiot.

"And ruin the surprise?" he answered, reaching for her free hand.  "Where's the fun in that?"

CJ shook her head.  "And here I thought you got all your fun out of lobbing jewelry at unsuspecting women.  If it is, in fact, jewelry."

Evan rolled his eyes and tugged her to him.  "Would you open the damn box already?"

CJ batted her eyelashes up at him playfully.  "Ask me nicely, and I'll consider it."

"I have to ask nicely?"

"Yes."

Evan narrowed his eyes, pretending to think about it.  "Fine.  Marry me."

Even though she'd been expecting it, the words still made CJ flush.  She heard Donna's happy laughter, but she couldn't look away from Evan.  "Funny," she said finally, "that didn't sound like a question."

"Woman, you will be the death of me, you know that?" Evan groaned.

"Not for a long, long time," CJ answered, sliding one arm around his neck.  She was not normally one for public displays of affection, but some situations called for a temporary suspension of the rules.  She figured a proposal would be one of them.  "Now ask me, or I'm bringing the Tae Kwan Do."

Evan laughed aloud, taking the box away from her.  "Okay, if I ask under duress, doesn't that--"

"Would you just ask her!" Donna yelled, unable to take it anymore.

"Sure," Evan said, not taking his eyes off of CJ.  "CJ, Donna says I have to ask you to marry me."

"Okay," CJ answered.

"You will?" he grinned.

"I don't know; you haven't asked yet," CJ said.

Behind her, Donna made a strangled noise.

"CJ Cregg," Evan said, "Would you please agree to marry me before our friends murder us both?"

"Ah," CJ beamed, "so romantic.  A story for... well, for a book, anyway."

Evan groaned in frustration, "CJ!"

"Yes."  She nodded slowly.

"Okay, now I've forgotten the question," Evan chuckled.

"Evan!"

"You'll marry me?" he asked, still grinning.  "Really?"

"Really," she answered.  And then she kissed him, right there in front of God, the cats, and everyone.  The small crowd provided accompaniment in the form of cheers, laughter, and catcalls.

"You know," Donna noted as CJ and Evan drew apart, grinning vapidly at each other, "this is the best damn barbecue I've been to in years."

THE END

07.07.01