The Proposal

A/N: It made me very, very sad when I realized just how badly the L/Z community was doing. I haven't written anything mildly Slayers related in quite sometime, but I finally managed to rekindle my love for the show, and I come back to THIS pathetic heap of fanfiction.

Seriously, you guys are slacking. Get back to work! All of you!

Anyway, I figure we needed a jump-start, so I present you MINDLESS FLUFF!!! The rating is mainly for language, because Lina mutters a very bad curse word. But other than that, it's innocent. A little OOC, but innocent. Enjoy guys.

He'd found her, finally.

It had taken the better part of a year, and a good majority of his resources, to do so, but he'd found her. After five long, lonely years, he'd found her.

He wasn't sure if he should run for cover or jump for joy. Somehow, he didn't think it would matter much.

Of course, she couldn't have made it easy for him. For the first six months of his hunt for her, her activity had been a familiar pattern of blowing up bandit camps and looting various treasures from said camps, with occasional bounty hunting on the side. Pretty easy to track. And then, all of a sudden, she'd dropped off the map. Poof. No sign of her. All activity had ceased, and bandits everywhere had breathed easier.

There were rumors that she'd finally died. He hadn't believed it for a second.

And after six months of searching, he'd managed to finally track her down, all the way back to her hometown.

It occurred to him that Zelphiria should have been the first place he looked, but back then he'd figured she'd be too afraid of her sister to go back there. He was wrong, of course. Most assumptions were like that.

As it turned out, she'd finally settled down, something that he'd found hard to believe until he actually found out she'd bought a house and even owned a small magic shop flat in the center of town. A shop that was closed right now.

Her 'house' was more of a cottage- it had a very quaint feel to it, and was obviously well maintained. The paint looked crisp and new, the lawn was kept, and in front was a tiny garden in full bloom. It was all so homey and relaxing.

So not like her.

But he could feel her familiar essence inside, so he knew that it was her.

And for the first time in a long time, Zelgadis Greywords was actually a bit frightened.

The first few rays of sunshine were just brushing the mountains at the north when he finally worked up to knock on her door: four strong, steady raps that echoed loudly. There was a momentary pause, and then a loud thump and crash from inside. Then silence. He waited, and then knocked again.

A very familiar, very irate voice called out, "I'm coming!"

He took the few minutes he had left to turn away from the door and go back over the speech he'd prepared just for her. It was corny and cheap and generally not something he was proud of, but it was heartfelt and hopefully it would earn his way back into her heart.

He hoped.

"Lina," he murmured, his voice sounding loud in his quiet surroundings, "I'm sorry I left. It was stupid... I love you, please forgive me..."

"Well, that's a start!" Her voice was accompanied with a loud clatter as the frying pan made contact with his head and bounced off, landing in a dented heap at his feet.

He turned slowly and rubbed absently at the place where the pan had hit. "I suppose I deserved that..." He broke off there, not because of uncertainty of worry, but because he'd suddenly lost his voice.

Lina Inverse stood before him in all her early morning glory, her gaze narrowed with murder in her eyes. But that wasn't what really caught his attention (although it was noted in the back of his mind). What caught his eye was the way she looked. Those five years had obviously been very good to her.

She wore nothing more than a very large t-shirt that fell to mid-thigh level and a pair of very tiny shorts, which happened to reveal some very long, smooth legs. Apparently she'd had a growth spurt. Her hair was messy and bits and pieces were falling out of the braid she'd pulled it into. It was darker than he remembered, now more of a blood red than the fiery color he had tucked away in his memory. And she'd filled out in enough ways to mark her as the young woman she was.

Oh yes, those five years had been very good to her.

It surprised him when he realized she was yelling at him.

"Damn right you do!" she shouted angrily. "I've got half a mind to Dragon Slave you out to meet L-sama!" Noticing his... appreciative gaze, she blushed fiercely and tugged at the hem of her shirt. "What are you looking at?!"

A tiny, almost invisible smirk found his lips. "You look different, Lina."

"Thanks." She snapped, and then paused and added, a bit more solemnly, "You don't."

He nodded, not even bothering to be offended. It was true enough. His skin was still the same blue tint, pebbles littering its surface. He still hadn't found a cure. Somehow, the thought wasn't quite as devastating as it used to be.

An awkward silence fell over them, before she broke it. "Well? What do you want?"

Another tiny smirk. "I actually came to ask you a question."

She quirked an eyebrow and signaled him to continue. He took a large step forward and suddenly their noses nearly touched. He could swear her saw her blush a bit. "I've actually had this for almost six years now," he admitted slowly, reaching into his pocket and producing a tiny, velvet black box. "Don't expect me to get down on one knee."

For a moment, there was a stillness, and then Zelgadis suddenly felt like he really wanted to find a rock to crawl under. The anger was back.

"You come back after five years," she hissed through clenched teeth, "propose, and then expect me to say yes?!" Her tone was one of barely restrained anger. He chose his next words carefully, well aware that they may have very well been his last.

"Unless you're still with Gourry...?"

A pause, and then she let out an irritated puff of air, both of them knowing that Gourry was very happy with Sylphiel in Sairaag, with two children and a third on the way.

"Smug bastard." She muttered under her breath, but she took the box from his hand and opened it, glancing over the ring before pulling it out. "It better fit."

It did fit, she realized, examining the way it glittered on her left hand. It fit quite well, actually.

Zelgadis waited a moment, watching her carefully as she watched her own hand, before venturing carefully, "Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

She seemed to consider this for a minute, before her eyes found the ring again. It was a nice ring... Looking back up at him, she offered, "It's a start."

With that, she spun on her heel and marched back into her home, disappearing around a corner in the hall. But she left the door open in what Zelgadis expected was an invitation.

Five seconds passed before, "ZELGADIS GREYWORDS!!!! YOU GOT ME UP AT FOUR IN THE MORNING FOR THAT!!!! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU-"

He barely managed to dodge the Fireball headed his way.

A/N: Please Review!