Title: Drenched

Rated: G really

Pairing: BA

Summary: Buffy and Angel arrange a meeting. Takes place sometime in the semi near future. Written for 15minuteficlets the word was drenched.

 

 

 

I don’t know why I didn’t take a cab and I’m not sure why I asked him to meet me in New York on top of the Empire State Building on Valentines Day. Actually I know exactly why I did that. I had just watched an affair to remember when I called him, really stupid I know. I’m beginning to realize that now.  Do you know how cold it is in New York in February? Not to mention it’s raining, we’re talking monsoon style rain, pouring down so heavy that it’s like sheets of water. I’m walking and I’m drenched.  The cute long denim skirt and sweater I picked out are covered by the heavy trench coat Giles bought me that Christmas we spent in England. He went on and on about it being a Burberry.

 

            I walk into the Empire State Building and toward the elevator. I groan and curse under my breath. The elevators have these huge “Out Of Order” signs on them. A round, friendly security guard chuckles at my reaction.

 

            “Sorry lady, if you wanna get to the top you’re going to have to take the stairs,” he says.

 

            “Yeah, I see that” I smirk.

 

            “Personally, I’d skip the top today, come back tomorrow. Can’t appreciate the view anyway with all the rain and that’s a lot of stairs. There are-“

 

            I hold up my hand, palm out to stop him. “I have to climb them. I have to get to the top. I’d rather not know how many steps there are.”

 

            “Let me guess, An Affair to Remember. Did you see the old one or the new one?”

 

            I scoff. “The old one of course, like Warren Beatty could actually be a passable replacement for Cary Grant.”

 

            The security guard just chuckles and shakes his head. I’m sure he’s seen that scene replayed a hundred times. I hit the stairs.  For some reason Guns and Roses Knocking on Heaven’s Door is stuck in my mind. Maybe because I’m climbing stairs and doesn’t someone have some long song that everyone plays on the guitar called Stairway to Heaven? That’s what I’m on, my own personal stair way to Heaven, provided he’s at the top of course. If he’s not, well I’m not going to think about that because that leads to Buffy breaking down and Buffy becoming a vegetable state type person, not good things.

 

            Halfway up the stairs I get that tickle tingle at the base of my spine.  A grin spreads across my face and butterflies come to life inside my stomach. He’s here. He’s really here. I take the stairs two at a time and burst out the door on the top floor breathless.

 

            I glance around frantically, looking for him. I can feel him I know he’s here but the feeling is so overwhelming I can’t pin point it. And then I see him, standing outside in the pouring rain. I push through the doors and he turns to me. He smiles and the sun is shining down. This is better then Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr ever managed.  I can’t help it. I run to him. I think I’ve spent my entire life running to him. Only this time he catches me. He holds me so tight I can’t breathe and I don’t care. He’s here and I’m drenched in forever.