"Okay," Carson smiles at the tv audience. "Today on Inside MTV, we're interviewing some of the industry's longer-lasting couples, and some of their most spectacular break-ups, in a special romance edition. To start, we have a successful supercouple, Britney Richardson, whom many of you probably remember wearing short skirts and spelling her last name S-P-E-A-R-S, and of course, her husband, Backstreet's senior statesman and Broadway perennial, Kevin Richardson. Britney, Kevin, welcome."

"Hi," Brit says, waving, and the audience screams. She leans back a little -- it's been a long time since teen-agers have emitted quite that high-pitched a note at seeing her -- and Kevin rests a hand on the back of her neck.

"Hi," Kevin says when it's quieted down. The baby kicks, and without thinking about it Brit moves one of Kevin's hands to her swollen abdomen. The audience lets out an "awww," and they both of them laugh.

"Right," Carson says. "I've got a bunch of questions here, if you don't mind getting straight to the thick of things. Now, you two have been married for ten years, is that right?"

"As of 6 weeks ago, yes," Britney says. Kevin presses a kiss to her temple.

Carson leans forward. "You met -- well, met isn't the right word, I suppose. You met in a romantic context? You got it on at AJ's wedding." He turns to the camera. "In case any of you are deaf, dumb and blind, AJ is a fellow Backstreet Boy."

"I wouldn't say we 'got it on'." Kevin shifts in his seat. "I asked her to dance."

Brit turns to him, grinning. "Nick made you."

"Nick did not *make* me. Nick hemmed and hawed and turned red and stuttered. And then, utterly of my own volition, I chose to request your hand for the next song."

"We waltzed."

He grins back at her. "And then we rhumbaed."

"Cha-chaed."

"Mamboed."

"Tangoed."

"Fox-trotted."

Brit turns to the camera. "And a week later, we were dating."

"How did he pop the question?"

"Oh," Brit says. "It was terribly romantic."

Kevin makes a face. "In the terribly sense."

Brit pokes him. "It was."

"If you ignore the fact that our bodyguards were standing ten feet away and it started raining before I could start talking."

"You went down on one knee."

"You pointed out there was broken glass on the rock, and asked if I was *trying* to get myself injured. And if I recall correctly, you complained on the entire walk to the park that it was dangerous being so public when the schools were just out for Christmas."

"Hush," Brit says, "and let me tell the story."

Kevin laughs, and kisses her hand. "Yes ma'am."

"He took me to the park, to where we'd had our first date, a picnic. It was December, and people had been drinking there or something earlier, because there were a couple of broken beer bottles around, and I was really nervous. And when he got down on one knee, like in the movies, I asked what on earth he was doing, and he was fumbling to get the ring out of his pocket and said, 'I'm asking you to marry me, so please stop complaining for a minute and let me *talk*,' and I said 'Yes,' and he said, 'What?' and I said, 'Yes, I'll marry you.' He said, 'I haven't even *asked* you yet, just a *second*,' and pulled out the little box, and took a deep breath and said," Brit pauses, her eyes growing misty, and she and Kevin share a smile.

"I said, 'Since the first time I held you in my arms, my life has been filled with music and laughter and a joy that I never thought possible. You brought me that. You brought me happiness that I thought was gone. You gave me everything worthwhile in my life today, and so I'm asking you to share it -- to share yourself -- with me forever. Britney Jean Spears, will you please, please be my wife?"

"And I said, 'Yes.'"