Hey everyone! So, for some reason, this Proposal movie has me in a mood to write. A good thing, yet it is keeping me from getting all of my spring break homework done. This story I finally developed as I got to spend a large part of my day thinking about the characters and the after movie timeline. I also kind of feel that us viewers were cheated on the mush part of the story since it ends about two minutes after they finally kiss. This has left me with the result of two stories written in two days, which is crazy for me.

As always, I appreciate reviews. This is my first M rated fic, and while I'm sure the mechanics are right, I hope the intimacy comes off as endearing as well. It's one thing to experience this kind of connection, another to actually write about it.

Snow

Some days, it felt like everything that happened had been nothing more than a sweet dream. It was borne out of loneliness and despair about her situation in life and the lack of people surrounding it. Other days she felt like she was floating on air, and the dream left her with a warm fuzzy feeling that, while tangible, felt like it could disappear at any moment.

Today was not one of those warm, fuzzy days.

Margaret pulled her sweater around herself a little tighter as she continued her walk through central park. The late spring weather had left the grass a bright and friendly shade of green, currently saturated by the thick raindrops that fell from the sky. In any other circumstance, she would have loved to take in the scenery of the trees beginning to bloom before the summer heat kicked in, the smell of flowers and the damp earth. The sun had yet to set, but the dimness of the gray clouds closing in told her that it would be dark very soon. Her very wet hair dripped down her back, causing her shiver with the falling temperature. Unknowingly, she glanced westward towards where her apartment building should be, just out of sight.

Margaret Tate had made a practice in her life to run away from her problems. Sure, she could psycho-analyze it and find some way to attribute her behavior to the unfortunate event that led her orphaned at sixteen. The truth was, however, that she ran because she was uncomfortable with personal conflict of any kind. She could handle the fast paced world of her office and the conflict involved with being in charge of so many people. She was deftly capable of hiding behind her "witch" persona when it came to ignoring the barbs her employees barely hid from view when she was in her office. What pushed Margaret to run was not a lack of self-respect or inability to defend herself; it was her nature to run away from things that made her confront who she was as a person.

It was that behavior of hers that had her out on this wet, cold, night, away from her husband/boyfriend of two weeks.

She supposed that the honeymoon was truly over. "What honeymoon," she thought. They had been married as soon as they had finished their business with the INS about a week after they had started dating. They had yet to hold an official ceremony, as both of them wanted to take the time to travel back to Alaska and include the whole family, but they had been married officially none the less. Jack had all but ordered her to take some time off of work, which she had to be pushed into agreeing to, in order to give her time to take care of getting her things back that had already been sent to Toronto, redecorate her office, and put the promotion through for Andrew. While she had been sneaking into her office with the intention of smuggling out a few manuscripts for herself to read during her time away, Andrew had had other plans. In the ten minutes she had been gone discussing the details with Jack that day Andrew had come for her, he had managed to clear any manuscript out of her office and put enough things in order that she was rendered speechless as he all but dragged her to the elevator.

What had followed before the interview with the INS had been a series of dates and discussions. Neither Andrew nor Margaret had felt comfortable just jumping into bed like they had been dating for weeks and not days, despite being married in every other sense. Andrew had instead chosen to take his time trying to woo Margaret. They had gone to dinner, walks in the park, watched movies, and simply sat together over a cup of coffee. Her favorite date so far had been the evening they had been walking in her neighborhood and come across a local bookstore. She didn't know how long they had browsed the shelves, showing each other favorites, finding new favorites, and telling stories in a nook by the window about some of their experiences with the written word. She hadn't been kidding that they went into their line of work because they wanted to inspire others with that same passion. They had spent nights together in their apartments, but it had never physically gone beyond kissing and holding each other through the night. For the most part, they had been comfortable to let their relationship progress at a natural pace.

Until tonight. Tonight, Andrew had apparently decided that it was time for their relationship to move to another level. She had come back from a run (she always preferred outdoor exercise to indoor during the spring months) to find that Andrew had cooked dinner for the two of them. He had taken her from the door and told her in no-nonsense terms that she was to shower, dress, and return to him in attire more befitting of a romantic dinner, minus the restaurant, waiter, and other couples. Really, up until the fight it had been a truly special evening. The food was good, they had shared in conversation, and honestly, Margaret had felt like swooning when Andrew had pulled her to her feet after and danced her around the living room to soft music and the voice of Michael Buble.

He had kissed her then, in a way that felt similar to that day in her office. His arms had locked around her shoulders and he cradled her head with one of his hands while the other ran down her back. The candlelight from the dinner table created intricate shadows across his handsome face, and she could barely think, let alone kiss him back with the same intensity. When they parted, he left his forehead against hers and continued to softly sway to the music. She had gripped his waist in her arms and locked her eyes with his, addicted to the smell of his cologne and the tender way he held her. Softly, she whispered to him words that he had been waiting to hear since he had asked her to marry him, "I love you."

It wasn't something she had said lightly. Andrew had been exceptionally patient when she explained to him early in that while she did have strong feelings for him, emotionally she needed to work up to being able to say the sentiment aloud. It was an area of herself that Andrew actually exceeded her in age because he had no trouble telling her every day that he loved her. She knew it hurt him a little every time he said it and she was unable to say it back, but he knew she was trying.

Margaret smiled as the rain continued to fall on her as she remembered the way Andrew had pulled her into a tight hug, holding her tight to his chest. She had felt him relax as he nuzzled the side of her head before whispering back, "Finally. I love you so much." He had pulled back enough to engage her in another passionate kiss.

They had continued to kiss, Andrew's hands tracing patterns along her back as she began to entangle hers in his hair. She wasn't sure how long they had been at it before she felt his fingers begin to slide the zipper of her dress down, and she had pulled back. Margaret hugged herself a little tighter in the park when she remembered how she had sat down on the couch, leaving Andrew breathless and confused.

"I don't understand," he had said.

"I just don't know, Andrew," Margaret had replied.

"You don't know about what?" Andrew ran his hands through his hair at her silence. "Why won't you open up to me? How can you expect this to work if the door to you is always closed?"

Margaret had been stunned. She knew she wasn't the most open of people when it came to relationships, but she could hardly believe that she was completely closed off from Andrew. "I don't think-"

"That's right! You don't! You hide behind your sarcasm and refuse to tell me why you're uncomfortable, and I'm left here standing alone. Not knowing what the hell I'm supposed to do." Andrew began pacing, "I've been waiting nearly two weeks for you to tell me you love me, and as soon as you do you close yourself off. I want to be with you Margaret, the whole you, not just bits and pieces. I know that you want it too yet you keep pushing me away."

Tears forming in her eyes, Margaret had stammered, "T-this isn't easy for me, Andrew. I haven't been in a relationship, a serious relationship, ever. Not sin-"

"Not since your parents died? Jeez, Margaret! You can't hide behind that for the rest of your life. I don't believe you have no other reason as to why you can't or won't be with me than the excuse of you being an orphan." Margaret had looked in his eyes then, saw the flash of anger in them. She had stood, and the look in his eyes changed when he saw how his comment stung, "Margaret, I shouldn't have said that."

"Forget it." And that was how she had ended up outside in the rain. She had, in her hurt and angered silence, grabbed her sweater from the coatrack and stormed outside, intending to get a little fresh air before coming back in. Two hours ago.

Now, she stood facing the direction of her apartment, afraid to go back. For once she did, she was sure Andrew would tell her he was divorcing her. There was no way after that to keep herself from being sent back to Canada. The truth was, she was scared more than anything that she really had been living in a dream for the past two weeks.

Was she really that closed off from Andrew? Margaret began slowly back towards the direction of her building. Her breath was coming out in short puffs, but she had yet to feel the cold that surely encased her body with the rain. She hadn't really thought she was putting distance between them, but perhaps she had with her limits on what she shared and how she acted with him. He wasn't lying, she did want him, badly, but that didn't keep the fear at what that would do to their relationship from coming to a head. She wasn't proud of the fact that her last relationship ended almost two years ago, but emotionally she knew she had a hard time connecting to another man on a deeper level. Margaret had relied on herself for so long, it was a struggle to give up that independence for anything, even the act of lovemaking with another man.

Part of Margaret knew that some of her fear came from being unsure if Andrew would reject her once seeing every part of her. Yet, he had been so willing before to show her every aspect of himself, how could she not return the gesture? What Margaret really needed more than her independence, was Andrew. Her stride quickened in her heels as she came to the realization that she really did love him, and it was only with him that she would be able to break down the barriers around her heart.

Andrew was frantic at this point. After Margaret had left, he had cleaned up their dinner, blew out the candles, and put regular lamps back on. Convinced that the night was going to be a waste, he changed into a set of sweatpants and a T-shirt he kept at her place. He knew that he had royally fucked up, and continued to berate himself and his stupidity as he watched out the window for some sign of her return.

He hadn't meant to go so far in his anger. His frustration had hit a sore spot in him and for a moment the patience he had been trying so hard to keep was lost. Andrew knew that this process was not easy on Margaret, which is why he had spent so much time trying to put her at ease with him. Breaking down her walls was a tedious process, and up until tonight, he was sure he had been making steady progress. Now, he was wondering if she was going to let him continue where he left off. He knew his words had hurt her, he knew them before he finished saying them, but it didn't take the air of truth out of them. Margaret did tend to hide behind her experiences after her parents' death, and she had a tendency to run whenever confronted with something that challenged her to open herself. He had vowed to spend the rest of his life peeling her back one layer at a time, until she no longer felt the need to run.

Andrew ran his hands through his hair, now frustrated because he didn't know where she was. He had gone downstairs earlier to find that she wasn't outside or anywhere in the immediate vicinity of the building, and she left her cell phone in the apartment, making it impossible for him to make sure she was alright. While Andrew didn't think she would go out and do anything stupid, this was New York after all, and he was worried that something had happened to her. Despite her tough exterior, he knew that she would be virtually defenseless if someone who meant real harm decided to pursue her.

Andrew picked up his phone, intending to call her office, when the sound of the door opening made him turn around. There she was, soaking wet and now shivering with cold. Her back was turned to him as she closed the door, and he wasted no time in dropping his phone and meeting her at the end of the short hallway in her entrance. He locked eyes with her for a moment, long enough to see the glistening of unshed tears, before he pulled her tight into his arms and buried his face into her neck. He felt her arms against his chest and her shaking, whether from cold or sadness, and he tightened his hold. "I'm sorry, Margaret. I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I never should have said what I did, I'm sorry."

Andrew felt her shaking her head, "You were right. I am closing myself off from you." He pulled back so he could look at her face, brushing wet strands of hair out of her eyes. She closed her eyes and he leaned in to kiss her forehead, followed by her eyelids, cheeks, and lips. "I don't want to do that to you Andrew. I've been on my own for so long I don't know how to be with another person." Andrew kept up his adoration of her face, somehow pulling her even closer. "I love you."

He pulled back further to really look at her. "You've been running for so long; you don't have to be alone anymore." Andrew noticed her shaking was becoming more pronounced now that she was away from his body heat. He pulled her back into his arms, rubbing her shoulders and back vigorously, "What were you thinking? It's freezing outside. We need to get you into some dry clothes," he said as he led her to the bedroom.

Andrew sat Margaret down onto the bed before going into the bathroom and coming out with two towels. He knelt before her on the ground and used one to dry her long stretches of hair, rubbing at her scalp and gently patting her face and neck down. He stood her up and balanced her weight on his shoulders as he helped her out of her heeled shoes. Finally, he rose and began unbuttoning the sweater, intending to help her dry off enough until she was able to take over. Her statement interrupted his thought process.

"You were right about something else too."

"What was that?" he asked, pulling the sweater down her shoulders before following with the second towel. She put her hands on his to stop his movements, forcing him to look her in the eye. "What?" Andrew whispered.

"I do want you; all of you. If you'll have me?"

Andrew dropped the towel onto the bed and used his hands to frame her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. "I'm sorry I tried to push you tonight. If you're not ready, I understand." He kissed her forehead again before continuing, "The last thing that I want is for you to regret this for any reason."

"See that's just it, Andrew. I need you to push me." Margaret ran her hands up and down his abdomen, tracing the rigid muscles beneath. "I need you to keep me from running."

"Are you sure?"

Margaret nodded, "I trust you, completely."

Andrew nodded and kissed her tenderly. "You tell me if you want me to stop; I don't want to go beyond where you're comfortable." Her response was to press her lips against his once more, her hands finally going underneath his shirt to caress his bare skin. Andrew could only moan in reply as his arms went back around her and moved lower, holding her to his body as one hand reached down to cup her behind. "I love you."

They continued to share deep kisses, barely stopping for a breath, as Margaret explored higher and higher up Andrew's chest. He paused for a moment and pulled his T-shirt over his head, pulling her close again as her lips sought out the newly exposed skin. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling, before pulling her arms around his neck and lifting her frame in his arms. He kissed her like that, his arms supporting her weight behind her knees and back as her fingers played with the hair at his nape, before lowering her to the bed and shifting himself so that he was above her.

Margaret couldn't take her eyes off of him. Andrew was a beautiful man, that much she had seen from their little incident in their Alaskan bedroom. Now, she couldn't stop staring at the expanse of his tanned, smooth skin. She ran her hands up and down his sides, feeling him shudder at her touch. She felt her body shiver in response, and it reminded her of the wet dress she still wore. She sat up, pushing Andrew aside gently, and undid the zipper in the back of the dress before lying back and pulling him atop her once more. Andrew kissed her again, balancing his weight on his forearm above her as his other hand fingered her collarbone. His lips trailed down to her neck, kissing her pulse point and making her quiver. Outside, the rain continued to pour. The storm had been picking up, and now flashes of lightning lit the sky, illuminating the bedroom.

Andrew slowly began to peel the dress down her body, leaving the expanse of wet skin behind. Her chilled body caused a shiver to go down his spine, and he pulled the comforter down from behind her body and encased it around them as he settled his warmth on top of her once more. Margaret moaned at the contact of their bare chests and pulled his shoulders down on her further, seeking out his warmth. "Maybe wandering around in the rain wasn't the best idea," she admitted.

He lowered his lips to hers, his fingers rubbing the sides of her stomach beneath the covers. "No, no it wasn't," he murmured in between kisses. "I'm just glad that you're alright."

"I'm sorry I ran away."

"Don't worry about that right now. I've got you."

While Andrew wanted to take his time tonight, their kisses and caresses were growing more passionate by the minute. Her hands continued to explore his chest and back, the sensation of her movements causing him to notice more and more the growing arousal in his sweatpants. Margaret could feel him against her stomach and arched her body up, making him moan a little in response. He trailed his hands up to her breasts, first testing their weight with his fingers before moving towards her erect nipples. He felt and heard her gasp as he took them in his fingers and flicked them back and forth. His mouth followed the same line he had made before down her neck before settling over her left breast, teasing the peak with his tongue before taking the whole of it in his mouth. His left hand continued to fondle her other breast and her breathing became shallower and she whimpered a little at his touch. Her hands tried to find a purchase against his shoulders before she gave in and ran her hands through his hair, clenching it a little whenever he nipped or sucked at her chest.

As Andrew switched his attentions to her other breast, his other hand began tracing down her stomach to settle against the lace of her panties. Ever so slowly, he ran a finger over her clit and center, causing her to shudder more. He continued to rub her through her underwear for a few moments before using both hands to divest her of the undergarment altogether. "Andrew," Margaret whispered. He returned to her upper body, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her cheeks. "Andrew," she whimpered again.

"I've got you Margaret. I love you." He captured her lips again, tongue seeking hers out, as his fingers traveled lower and lower. He swallowed her initial cry as his finger slowly entered her before coming up to circle her clit, once, twice, then back into her center. Her breathing became even faster and Andrew began to kiss her neck and face as his fingers worked their ministrations on her lower body. "Let go for me," he said softly as his attentions sped up. He felt her rise on the bed, seeking his contact. She froze for a moment, then began to shake and moan as his fingers continued to draw circles on her clit, her insides clenching violently after being woken up from eighteen months of celibacy.

He kept his fingers there, feeling the moisture as she calmed down from her heights. His lips continued to kiss her face and neck as her breathing came more under control. Finally, she opened her eyes and smiled gently, "Hi."

"Hey," he smiled back. "You're beautiful, do you know that?" He kissed her lips, rising above her again and settling himself with his erection between her legs. His breath caught as he felt the heat from her body even through his pants and boxers. "Are you sure you're still ready for this?" he asked as he pressed himself against her body.

"I'm sure about you, Andrew." Margaret slid her hands down and grasped his erection through his pants. She rubbed her palm on it before hooking her thumbs into the waistband and pulling them down as far as she could reach.

Andrew kicked his clothing down the rest of his legs and off of the bed before settling himself again. When the tip of his member rested against her entrance, he leaned up and kissed her before pulling back and little and thrusting slowly into her. Margaret let out a tiny squeak at the tightness she felt from not being with someone for so long, and Andrew paused once he was fully inside in order to allow her to adjust to him being joined with her. Slowly, he began to move inside her, pulling out partially before thrusting back into her warmth. Both of them moaned at the first time he did this, the sensation new and yet familiar. Andrew tried to keep his pace slow in order to make these minutes last, but he was quickly losing what little self control he had left. Soon, he had a steady rhythm set up between them as their hands and mouths touched anywhere they could reach. His hand inched lower again to draw circles on her clit the way he had before, and her increased cries only brought him closer to his own edge. He moved a little faster, the friction and the feeling of his fingers on her body pushing Margaret over the edge as she moaned and cried through her orgasm. Andrew followed soon after, growling against her throat as his body released the tension he had been holding.

He rolled to his side, pulling Margaret with him and using the sheets and comforter to cover their sweating and cooling bodies. Her damp hair had left a wet spot on the pillow, and Andrew turned it over before using it and pulling Margaret against his chest. "You okay?"

She looked up at him and pressed her lips against his. "Thank you," she whispered.

The two of them lay together, whispering words of love. Outside, the storm continued to rage. Eventually, their eyelids began to drag, making it harder to continue their small talk. Margaret turned her back to Andrew (she never could sleep on her left side for some reason), and felt strong arms encircle her and pull her against his chest. She felt Andrew place his lips on the skin behind her neck, close to her ear, where he softly said three words that made her feel content, loved, and grounded in their closeness.

"No more running."