… didn't you know? Even when the curtain falls…
Buffy gasped against Angel's lips, filled with a hedonistic pleasure that rushed through her from head to toes, curling in the pit of her stomach and making her skin tingle, begging to be ravished by her husband. Sensing her need, his lips captured hers once more before he turned his attention to her neck his hands skimming her flesh wit the softest fire inducing touches. Finally pulling away, he leaned his forehead against hers and they panted for breath, seemingly unable to loose the physical connection they had built.
"We should get back to the others." Buffy whispered.
"Ahuh." Angel sighed, seizing her lips in one final kiss.
"Okay." She touched her lips gently against his again. "Time to leave."
Glancing round Angel laughed.
"What?" She demanded.
"Us, making out in a broom-closet at parents evening."
Buffy grinned back. "C'mon before someone catches us."
Slipping out of the cupboard and into the deserted corridor, Buffy caught her reflection in a dark window and winced at the mess her hair was now in. Catching sight of Angel she suppressed a laugh.
"Do we have to go back?" Angel whined. "It's not like Liam's teachers actually need to talk to us, he's a straight A-student."
Buffy shrugged. "So let them tell us how great he is instead."
"It wouldn't be any other way… not with your genes." Buffy shook her head, but Angel cut her off with a kiss before she could say anything more.
"God! Get a room!" Liam yelled at them from the doorway to the corridor, hovering behind him, Kaitlyn was smothering her laughter.
"I knew you where a great son." Buffy laughed. Dragging Angel along behind her, she pulled the car keys from Angel's jeans pocket and waved them in front of Angel's face. "I'm driving."
Angel blanched. "No… you're not."
"I could drive." Liam suggested.
Ruffling Liam's hair Buffy smiled, and they headed back into the parent teacher conference room, uncaring as the eyes of teachers and parents alike where drawn to the almost electric closeness between the four, all beautiful, and now famous in their own right, and completely oblivious of anything but each other.
…life is never over… and neither is love
(No really, it is the end this time)
It was suggested that my last ending was a little abrupt which having reread it I agreed, and I thought I'd add just a tiny little epilogue, to finish it off properly. Skipping a bit forward at the very end is also one of my favourite traits of Richard Curtis, who this entire fic has been in ode to. I worship and adore him, so if you haven't seen any of his films… go now, buy!
If you haven't heard of Richard Curtis, he's most famous for his involvement (primarily writing) in/for the British films Four Weddings and a Funeral, Notting Hill, Bridget Jones' Diary and Love, Actually (which he also directed). All of which you absolutely have to watch, but he's also had involvement with two British TV series; Blackadder and The Vicar of Dibley, which you really ought to catch if you have the opportunity. Okay my plug for the greatest dude ever is now over.
And instead I'd like to say a huge thank you to everyone whose read and reviewed this fic, the support has been overwhelming and I'm really grateful, you really are the best, particularly I have to shout out a special mention to: Tariq, Rayne StarDust, Lex, SlayerChic503, Jessica, Catlimere, Kathleen, stag, blip-dragon, Kat461 and anyone I've forgotten, who stuck with me through this and said particularly nice things to me. g I love you guys.
Okay. That's enough of my Oscar acceptance speech.
I will be back.