Title: Miscommunication

Rating: F for pure fluff, seriously PG

Summary: Buffy and Angel have some miscommunication, again. Future fic

A/N: Written for Rachel because she wanted fluff. She’s been depressed watching Ats S4 on TNT. She wanted something from Jane Austen in here.

 

 

 

“Mmmm, can we just never move again?” Buffy asks.

 

            Angel grins and pulls her a little closer. “I just bought this house. We’re not moving anytime soon.”

 

            “No, I mean literally not moving from this spot ever again,” Buffy purrs.

 

            Angel gives the hammock their lying in a gentle push with the one leg hanging over the edge. It sways gently underneath the full moon.

 

            “Strawberry please,” Buffy says.

 

            Angel chuckles and stretches the arm that’s not tucked under Buffy. He can just barely reach the bowl of strawberries sitting on the side table. He places the strawberry in her mouth and groans as she bites into it and then licks the strawberry juice off her lips. She giggles.

 

            “You do that to me on purpose,” he says.

           

            She laughs. “Its fun,” she teases.

 

            He grins and nuzzles her ear.

 

            “Angel, we’re breaking my no moving idea here,” she says.

 

            He chuckles. “I wasn’t aware you were that serious about it.”

 

            She shrugs a little and he can hear the tears creep into her voice. “It’s just after every thing…this is perfect. I don’t want to move, I don’t want to breathe. I’m afraid it will all go away if I do.” Her voice is little more then a whisper.

 

            She curls into him, burying her nose in the crook of his neck. This is home, heaven, paradise, utopia, the garden of Eden and every other perfect place in the world. Angel kisses the top of her head and takes a deep breath. He doesn’t have to breathe but he can’t think of anywhere he’d rather be then right here wrapped in her scent.

 

            They’ve come a long way to be here in this perfect place. They’ve faced curses and overcome them with a little bit of magic. They’ve battled apocalypses together and apart. They’ve both died. They’ve been to Heaven and Hell. They’ve lost friends, family, each other. They’ve earned this place.

 

            “You can’t lose me, Buffy. Not ever again,” he whispers.

 

            She smiles a little. He feels her lips curve against the cool skin of his chest.  Her heat warms his skin. He can feel her heart beat against his own chest. With Buffy this close to him, he doesn’t actually have to be alive. She makes him feel alive. He shares her breathe, her heartbeat, her soul.

 

            He swallows hard. He’s thought about this a lot lately. He’s gone through the reasons they shouldn’t, couldn’t. He’s immortal, she’s not. He can’t give her children or sunlight. She doesn’t care. It’s taken her years to convince him of this. She finally has.

 

            He pulls away from her a bit, just enough that he can tuck a piece of her golden hair behind her ear. He kisses her forehead and takes a deep breathe, this time for courage.

 

            “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” Angel says.

 

            Buffy arches an eyebrow at him. “Uhm…okay,” she says. He usually offers some sort of explanation/literature lesson when he quotes things to her.

 

            Angel furrows his brow and looks at her, apparently waiting for something.

 

            “Shakespeare?” She says after a moment. “No, wait that would have had a lot more thous and thees. I actually understood most of what you just said.”

 

            Angel sighs exasperated. “It’s from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. I’ve been reading it to you every morning before we go to bed. I read this chapter to you just the other day,” he says.

 

            Buffy winces. “Sorry, guess my secret is out. I just like to listen to your voice. You could be reading the phone book for all I know.”

 

            Angel sighs. It was actually important that Buffy recognize that particular quote this time. He’d been planning this for weeks.

 

            “Sorry,” Buffy said contritely.

 

            Angel closes his eyes, maybe if he jogs her memory. “It’s the scene where Mr. Darcy proposes to Elizabeth,” he says.

 

            Buffy pauses a moment, her brow scrunched in thought. “Uhm…and then Elizabeth said yes?”

 

            “Buffy.” Her name is an exhalation of breath on his lips.

 

            Buffy wrinkles her nose and if the moment hadn’t been so important Angel would laugh at how adorable and confused she looks. “Okay, so Elizabeth said no?”

 

            “The first time, but I’m hoping you won’t follow her lead,” Angel says.

 

            “Wait…are you…proposing to me?” Buffy stammers.

 

            “Very unsuccessfully, yes,” he says.

 

            “Oh God! Angel, you have to propose to me in a language I can understand!” She squeals.

 

            “Buffy, love, you speak English,” he says.

 

            “Well, yeah but not British,” Buffy says.

 

            Angel grins. “Buffy, will you marry me?”

 

            “Duh,” she says with a grin and kisses him soundly on the lips.

 

            “Love, you have to respond in a language I understand,” Angel teases.

 

            Buffy grins. “That’s right, you’re not quite fluent in Buffy speak. Angel, yes I will marry you.”