Sun Mote Copse That's why we're all wearing braces

Niamh and her angst were both quite stubborn- but when she snorted at his reply, it wasn't without a shade of a smile. She cleared her throat and tried to erase the wry look off her features, but he'd caught her. Yes, it had certainly taken two to tango. Damn you, Colt, she thought to herself, but she couldn't say it. He was right. She'd been just as involved in the whole process as he had been, and like him, she'd enjoyed every minute of it. So when he pointed that out, it actually helped relieve some of the tension that existed between the two of them. 

Niamh cottoned on to what Colt was going to do as soon as he mentioned there being a 'right moment.' She lifted her head and looked up at him, simply waiting for him to babble his way through his proposal so that she could answer- and even when she was given a moment to do so, he decided to go on and babble something about curses, but she shook her head vehemently. She didn't want to hear that- all she'd wanted to hear had already been spoken. 

"Goddamnit it took you long enough," She said, but she wasn't annoyed, she was simply relieved. "Just think of the surname we'd have to give these kids otherwise. I mean, seriously- Blackthorn-DeMonte-Argyle?" She asked, and pushed herself up into a seated position- which took some effort. "Now get your ass over here, husband, an' gimme a kiss." She demanded.