Hey guys :) here I am with a "Proposal" fic. I absolutely love this movie and this couple is so freaking adorable and fic-ish. This is inspired on "the late night tampax runs" that Margaret refers to. The title is from "Endlessly", a Green River Ordinance's song. Go check it :)

"She came along and she spoke so sweetly

Changed everything, took my heart completely

I, I love that girl

I, I love that girl

She is the days I can't get over

She is the nights that I call home endlessly

For you I'll always wait

Caught in the waves of hesitation

Lost in the sea of my own doubt endlessly

For you I'll always wait"

….

It was almost 9 o'clock in the evening when Margaret got home. She dumped her bag and everything she was supposed to read until the next morning in the couch as soon as she got home and headed to the room to undress. She needed one of those burning showers that relax you so much that you fall to sleep before even touching the pillow. But she couldn't give herself that privilege, although she was tired that she had been close to sleep twice at the office: she had 2 manuscripts to read that night. She would start right after shower, because she didn't feel like having dinner: a numb cramping had been bothering her all afternoon, not that she had had the time to pay attention to it, and a light feeling of nausea was bothering her stomach.

It was when she was about to get into the shower and threw away the last piece of clothing that everything was clear. "Crap." She said, looking down. She opened one of the drawers in her bathroom cabinet to find it empty. "Crap, crap." She quickly went to her bag to get her cell and dialed his number, wondering if he would be already home, after he had left the office earlier to go meet an editor.

Reliable as always, he answered at the third ring. "Yes?" – "Andrew, it's me." – "Margaret? Is something wrong?" – "No, but I need you to go get me… you know… the usual stuff." – "Got it, boss. On my way." – "Thanks." He thought she didn't notice, but his voice always softened up when she called for things like this, but only after the sense of awkwardness had passed.

Margaret took her shower quickly, in case Andrew showed up and she was still showering, and waited wrapped up in her towel sitting in the edge of the tub. When she finally heard the doorbell, she crossed the living room barefoot, holding the towel around her, and opened the door.

"Hi. There you g-" Andrew said, but she took the bag out of his hands before he could finish the sentence.

"Thank you, I'll be right back." She said, disappearing into her bedroom and closing the door behind her.

Andrew closed the front door and placed another bag he brought in his hands in Margaret's counter. He looked for a glass on her kitchen and poured some water into it. He then put some water to boil so he could make her some tea.

She appeared from her room a few minutes later in black leggings and a hoodie. Who would know that Margaret Tate owned a purple hoodie? Her hair was still lightly wet, falling around her shoulders, and she had no makeup. Andrew couldn't help to think she never looked more beautiful to him.

Actually he was wrong: she looked at him and gave him a half smile, putting a stray of hair behind her ear, while saying, slightly blushed "Sorry, I didn't even say hi." And with that, with her looking so pure, so innocent, he thought he was going crazy.

"Hi." He said from behind the counter, and walked in her direction, never looking away from her eyes, until he was merely inches from her face.

"Hi." She mumbled, but she was quickly engulfed in his embrace and their lips were meeting, calmly, sweetly.

"How was the meeting?" She asked into his chest, when they finally broke the kiss.

"It was OK, everything is almost set." He said, holding her close: he loved the fact that she was so petite without high shoes, so he could hold into her like this.

"I'm sorry for this "late night tampax run", it looks like the old times…"

"It's OK. I've picked up stuff at later hours, don't worry. My boss was a bitch."

She poked him lightly in the chest, and he pushed her more into him. "Ow, I'm girl cramping, please don't that."

"Sorry, babe. But that is why I've got some pills for you." He said, handing her the glass of water and a box of pills.

"Thanks."

"And I'm making you some tea, because I know your stomach always gets funny when you get your girl time. But I got you a thing that I'm sure will give you appetite."

Her face lit up. "Brownies from that bakery?" He nodded, laughing at her face. "What did I make to deserve you?" She said quietly.

He took her in his arms again. "Nothing, you actually just "bitchied" around and I fell at your feet." She didn't even bother to poke him, she just smiled into his chest.

Andrew knew how to get a smile from Margaret: she wasn't the type of woman to be laughing out loud for anything and everything, and she wasn't a very "smiley" person either. So it was such a great accomplishment for Andrew to earn a true meaningful smile from her. And he loved to see her smile, he loved how her whole face lit up and he loved the smile reached her eyes. If anyone had told him, three years ago, that he would be drooling over his cold fearless boss someday, he would call them crazy.

They had tea and the famous brownies, and Andrew cleaned up everything in her kitchen. When they were finished, Margaret told him "I forgot my wet towels on the bedroom, I'll be right back."

She gathered her towels and threw them into the clothes' basket. She quickly returned to living room, relived to find Andrew sprawled in her couch, his legs across it and the remote in his hand. "Good, I thought you were thinking about leaving." She admitted, and immediately wondered when she had started letting out her thoughts, her vulnerabilities, so easily. She knew she was safe with Andrew, he brought up the best in her.

Of course he noticed it too, and looked at her from the couch. "I can't leave you."

She threw herself into the couch, and arranged herself between his legs, while he put an arm around her waist. She tightened his grip on her waist and put her head in his shoulder, her soft cheek rubbing against his, which was slightly rougher because of the beard. "Still cramping?" She mumbled a weak "yes" and he kissed her forehead, breathing in her scent, her hair.

He noticed she was drifting off to sleep, so he reached a blanket she had in the armchair to cover her up. "No…" She protested in a mumble, to weakly to be believable. "I have to read…"

"Sssshhh" He whispered in her ear. "Just rest now." And in a couple of minutes she was sound asleep in his arms.

He loved to hold her while she slept: the calm look on her face, her breath next to his neck, her heart pounding into him, her petite body snuggled into him. He loved how she let down her guard around him and allowed him to protect her. He knew it had to be hard to keep up with that fearless cold attitude on a daily basis, and that was one more reason for him to be grateful that, deep down, she would be so different, so needy, so lost that she could accept his love for her. And God, he loved her! Neither of them had said it, but he loved her! He knew he had started loving her even when he hated her. She threw him to the hedges, but he loved her.

He reached the manuscripts she had brought home to read and took a look at them. They were both pretty long, and he couldn't understand why she would push her limits like that: that was very difficult to read in one night, especially with the picky high standards she had. No wonder she could never sleep!

Well, he would read them for her, of course he would. But it would be according to his own standards, which would result in the two manuscripts read in about three hours.

It was about 1a.m. when he finished the second manuscript. In all that time, Margaret hadn't moved an inch. He stroked her hair gently and whispered "Margaret. Margaret… time to go to bed." But all he got from her was a mumble and a tighter grip on him. Too sleepy himself to argue with his sleeping girlfriend, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. When he laid her down, she opened her eyes and said slurred "I have to read…"

"No, you don't, honey." He said, pulling the covers.

"Yes, I do." She insisted, still sleepy.

"I've read them for you. Are you feeling better?" He asked sliding down the covers to join her body.

"Hum hum…" She murmured, drifting to sleep again.

"Good. Now sleep." He said, kissing her forehead and spooning her.

"I love you, Andrew." She mumbled, and drifted off to sleep.

"I love you too, Margaret." He replied with a smile. He knew she wouldn't admit it in the morning, but at least now he was sure she felt it too. I love that girl.

….

So this is it, I hope you guys have liked it. I have more fics about these fluffy ones :)

See you soon*