A/N: Sorry again for the delay, and the shortness of this one. But I'm getting back into writing for this fic, so I'll try and do better next time.
It's been a long day, complete with an early morning wake-up call and working extra late, but it's evening now and he's using the time to relax. She, on the other hand, has thrown herself into the business of their future wedding. A date hasn't even been set yet, but Elizabeth is already knee-deep in it, as though it's speeding at them with the velocity of a fired bullet.
The thought should make him nervous, but it doesn't. It just makes him happy.
She groans from her place on the floor, pulling him away from his musings.
"Is it bad to say that I kind of hate wedding planning?" she asks, the hint of a whine in her voice. There are brochures for reception venues on the coffee table in front of her, catalogs of flowers and other accessories on the floor and in her lap. He's laying on the couch and flipping through the television channels, but this statement makes him stop and smirk.
"Bad? Not at all. Just another reason we belong together."
She shakes her head and tosses a catalog at him.
The edge of it hits his chin. "Hey!"
"That's what you get, Carlton. You've been great help," she says sarcastically, but she can't help but smile.
"Glad to be of service," he replies easily.
"I forgot how much work planning a wedding could be..."
He yawns. "I know, it really takes a lot out of a person."
Elizabeth sighs wearily. "You know, I'm this close to letting Juliet take complete control."
Carlton's eyes widen as the implication of that statement sinks in. Sure, O'Hara has been a great help in planning and in just being supportive in general, but to give her full reign over their wedding ceremony just isn't a good idea. He shudders to think of the pomp and frill, the completely over-the-top result of O'Hara's somewhat repressed romantic nature finally receiving an outlet. It's fine for her wedding, but it just isn't them.
Without giving it a second thought, Carlton turns off the television.
He slides himself off the couch and onto the floor beside Elizabeth, letting his long legs stretch out underneath the coffee table.
"So," he starts conversationally. "What exactly do you need help with?"
Elizabeth laughs and drops a pile of brochures into his lap.
A/N: Reviews greatly appreciated!