Luck Had Nothing to Do With It
She means everything to you. / Twenty-one events that led up to their wedding. OneShot. Ian/Amy fluff.
The first time you saw her, you thought: Ew. Your face scrunched up in disgust as she sniffled and blew out her nose. You could hear the mucus building up, and it made you shudder. How disgusting. It was a shame you were related.
The second time you saw her, you thought: What? Why is she there anyway? You knew she was one of Grace's favorites, but she had no talent, no skill. How could she survive the hunt? You scowled and crossed your arms. Grace was a fool.
The third time you saw her, you thought: This had better be worth it. Pretending to love this bookworm wouldn't be easy. You roll your eyes at her foolishness and stupid blush. You just better get that next clue in return.
The fourth time you saw her, you thought: I'm in trouble. Suddenly, her eyes that once seemed dull and boring seemed full of life and beauty. You gulp and look the other way. Because you knew that if you loved her, you'd be worse than dead.
The fifth time you saw her, you thought: She's alive. She wasn't left to starve and die in the cave you left her in. A wave of relief washed over you, and you let out a sigh. You were angered and frustrated at being tricked, but relieved at the same time.
The sixth time you saw her, you thought: She's going to win. She and her stupid brother are going to win this hunt you and your sister had worked so hard on. You feel like screaming and yelling, but also happy that your mother isn't going to get her hands on them instead.
The seventh time you saw her, you thought: She looks well. The bruises from the cave-ins and everything else were healed, and she looked as good as new. You smiled despite yourself.
The eighth time you saw her, you thought: What is she doing here? You frowned, and the girl under your arm suddenly was invisible. It wasn't right, a girl like her, in a club like this. You glare at the guys eyeing her, and decide you had better do something.
The ninth time you saw her, you thought: Wow. She sure was mad. Sure, you might have dragged her out of that club and threw her into a cab without her consent, but she should be happy that you saved her. You smirk despite everything else.
The tenth time you saw her, you thought: Cute. Or, at least, you thought it without knowing it. You smiled when she wasn't looking, and you laughed as she glared at you for tripping her earlier. But it wasn't your fault you wanted to catch her attention. Not at all.
The eleventh time you saw her, you thought: I can do this. You'll just ask her out to dinner, and act casual about it. She can't say no to your charm. You brush your hand through your hair nervously, and lean to ring on her doorbell.
The twelfth time you saw her, you thought: How dare she? After rejecting you, she goes out with some other man? No one does that to Ian Kabra! You storm up to her and all of your cool just fades away. Boy did you look foolish when she explained she was in an interview.
The thirteenth time you saw her, you thought: If she doesn't appreciate this, I'm never talking to her again. You went through all of this trouble to woo her, from flowers to a cellist, and if she doesn't like this, you don't know what will. Funny, how you were so nervous that you spilled water onto her.
The fourteenth time you saw her, you thought: What do I do? What do I say? Never had you felt so weak and vulnerable. After all, it was just one stupid kiss on the cheek; you had a better kiss with her as a teenager. And yet, as she smiles at you, you feel yourself smiling back.
The fifteenth time you saw her, you thought: If he doesn't back away in five seconds, he probably won't survive any longer. You glared at the man talking to her, smiling and laughing as if they had known each other forever. You stalked towards the two of them after the five seconds passed, ready to knock him out. After you did so, she wasn't very happy to see you punch out her best friend's boyfriend.
The sixteenth time you saw her, you thought: She's mine. It dawned on you as she laid across your lap, breathing evenly. Tired and exhausted, she just... fell asleep. You had the strongest urge to sneeze suddenly, and trying not to wake her up, you jerked accidentally, making her fall of the sofa. Oops, was your second thought.
The seventeenth time you saw her, you thought: It's good to be back. You were reluctant to leave her for business, but there she is, smiling broadly as she welcomed you back home. It was then you realized that this was your home. Not a place for commerce, or a place to sight-see - it was home. And she was there, sharing it with you.
The eighteenth time you saw her, you thought: We've come a long way. Your anniversary with the girl you thought would be the last one to be with. A year together and it has seemed like only a moment. You smile as she turns away, pretending not to have stared at you.
The nineteenth time you saw her, you thought: This is the end, isn't it? She's going to break up with her. After all this work, and all this pain, she's going to leave you for her stupid boss. You knew he was trouble from that first time you saw the two at dinner for an "interview". All those secret smiles and giggles, and now she's going to leave you. As you gather up the nerve to confront you, she pulls out a velvet red box.
The twentieth time you saw her, you thought: I still can't believe she had to propose. You kept stalling the proposal, and right when you thought she was about to leave you, turns out she was taking a step against feminism and asking you to marry her. At least you didn't faint, though. That would've been worse.
The twenty-first time you saw her, you thought: She's beautiful. She always has been. From the first time you saw her, even if you couldn't realize it, to now, as she walks down the aisle nervously, her white gown trailing behind her. Vows that cannot even begin to express your love and thankfulness for her. And as she stands on her tip-toes to seal the deal, you hear her whisper: "I'm so lucky to have you."
But she was lying. You are the lucky one.
A/N: Well... that was quite fluffy. But that was kind of the point :) Haha, please point out any mistakes or OOC-ness.
I know Ian seems OOC... but I was kind of trying to point out how she helped him change his point of view on things. I don't know how well that worked out...
Another oneshot about these two coming up, I suppose...