On A Cloud

By Yasashii Tsubasa

Summary: Ficlet, set at the end of 'Smile Time'. What goes on in the mind of a Taco Belle during the kiss with Wesley. Funny, but very sad.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: This fic is one that's actually meant to be sad, unlike my other ficlet, which is not. I had this idea when 'Smile Time' aired, but I never got around to writing it until now. Considering Fred's fate, it takes on a much darker connotation. Please R&R.

----------

Oh. Oh god. There he is. How can I possibly do this? I can't just go right up to Wesley and kiss him.

Oh, but I want to. Those beautiful lips against mine…those muscles in that shirt…mmm…

Okay, images in the head getting a little too X-rated now. Down, girl! You're not in a porno movie.

Oh, come on, Fred! You've known Wesley for such a long time; just go up and talk to him, like old times. Just like old times, in the hotel, before Conner. Besides, he liked you then, right? Who's to say that he doesn't still like you now?

Let's do this. I feel like one of the crew in Armageddon.

I walk in, and put on a big, bright smile. " I just got off the phone," I say. " Looks like the kids are coming out of their stasis."

Wes turns to me, smiles back, and I nearly faint. " Oh…good. I think we did some excellent work back there."

" I think you're right," I reply.

Of course we did, Wes, m'love. We're a team—have been for years. It's always been the Brilliant Englishman and the Crazy Texan, remember? Like Cheech and Chong, that's us. Except not with the drugs.

Wes nods. " And now…" he grabs his coat, looking at me expectantly.

Like the moron I am, I don't get it. " And now…"

" We'd better get some rest," he says, starting to walk towards the door. " No telling when the next crisis will strike."

Waitaminute, waitaminute...wait…a…minute…is he leaving?

Oh, no, mister, you're not allowed to leave until Fred has rambled her piece. Stop right there.

Crap, did I have to step right in front of him, leaving about four inches of air between us? He's so close; I don't know if I can resist.

"You're just gonna go, aren't you?" I say. Mental slap for that one. That was completely dumb to say, and made no sense. So, pretty much like what the rest of my speech is gonna be like.

" Fred…"

Oh, don't you 'Fred…' me, Wesley! Don't say it in that sighing tone! I'm gonna say my piece. With mental commentary.

Starting now. Deep breath…

"Haven't you been... sensing anything lately... about me... coming from me?" (Oh, crap. Way to screw it up in the first sentence of your declaration of love.) " Uh... didn't occur to you that... something might have changed?" (Still screwing up…why can't I ever shut up once I start going?) " That—I'm looking at you in a different—" (Nope, those lips are too close to resist any longer.) " Oh, screw it."

There. I did it. I kissed Wesley Wyndham-Price. It was heavenly.

And his response to my loving smooch? " Umm…"

Sigh. The boy just doesn't get it. Cordy was right, all those years ago. Men are incredibly dumb, and they need things explained to them. So, Fred? Explain. Like a teacher talking to a toddler.

" That was a signal. OK? Is that... clear enough for you?"

He drops his jacket, and there's that smile again. Oh, he's so beautiful, and smells so good…

" Not even close," he murmurs, and then he kisses me.

That's right, sports fans, he kisses me. Very nicely, I might add.

Oh, my god, I think I might have just died and gone to heaven. This is all of my dreams come true, tenfold. I'm standing here kissing the man of my dreams, the one man who has been there for me no matter what, the person who was there to hold me when everyone else was gone…I've finally discovered my one true love.

I'm flying. I'm invincible. I'm on cloud nine million.

I'm going to live forever.