WHO: Buffy Summers, Nikolai Lantsov WHEN: Today WHERE: On a road somewhere! WHAT: Buffy & Nik get pulled over, and Buffy makes a discovery. WARNINGS: None actually.
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“Have a good day now,” the policeman replied, tone notably more chipper than it had been at the start of the conversation. A short nod followed, more or less a dismissal, before he turned heel.
“And you, as well, officer,” Nikolai returned, maintaining his smile with a steadiness that came from years of practice. He also was maintaining an American accent, which hovered between regional affectations, but sounded no less out of place than any other local. He watched the police officer stroll back to his patrol car, get in, and take off with little time wasted.
Once they were alone again, Nikolai turned to Buffy, a grin now replacing the smile. “You know, I had my doubts that you could actually get out of a ticket when you were caught dead-to-rights breaking a law, but I really have no quarrel with being proven wrong,” he told her -- his feigned accent entirely dropped -- before steering his vision out over the expanse of highway before them. California was a state that winded on for eternity, but there were intermittent towns, cities, and hidden police cars waiting for speeders. Lesson learned. Mostly.
“Oh, and you may as well put this away now,” he added, handing the insurance card over to her. “I think we can make at least another hundred miles today…”
It took another few moments before Buffy took the insurance card to put back, and even then, she held her hand out for another few seconds, the paper dangling in the air. She'd paid no attention to the situation with the cop — cops were still a thing that Buffy had never really adjusted to (once they tried to shoot you several times, they were always persona non gratis) — instead, she was staring at a giant ring.
No, not a giant ring.
A giant stone in a ring. A giant emerald by the looks of it. It's was freaking enormous, like one of the rings she would have found in a mausoleum in Sunnydale that happened to be tied to some demon or some prophesy. It was the kind of thing she would have been sworn to protect to make sure the bad guys couldn't open a dimension to hell.
"Uh, Nik… Please tell me this is a Ring Pop and not a real jewel sitting in your glove compartment." How many nights had they just left this thing in here where anyone could have smashed a window and found it in the glove compartment. "Maybe a plastic kid's toy?"
“Hm?” It took another short moment for Nikolai to spot the glinting green of the emerald as the sun hit it. It wasn’t any sort of shock to him, of course, being that he’d stashed the ring in the glove box before they departed Tumbleweed. He looked upon it with a familiarity and nonchalance that suggested this turn of events was not surprising in the least.
“I couldn’t say it isn’t a Ring Pop for lack of knowing what that is, but…” He shrugged. “To my eyes, it looks like my mother’s engagement ring. Funny, isn’t it? Of all the things I could have been gifted, that is the one that turns up.”
He reached over to take the ring from between Buffy’s fingers. “Really, it’s fairly modest. Relative to a certain standard, of course.”
Buffy wasn't the scratch-your-head type, but this had her wishing she was. She had all the expression of a woman who was confused by, well, everything to do with this ring. Why had he taken it with him? She tried not to jump to conclusions, but some conclusions really wanted to be jumped to. This was one of them.
"Okay, but why is it in your glove compartment? On a cross country trip? Where you didn't take it out of your car. Despite that anyone could have broken in here and stolen it." He didn't seem to care about it at all, but Buffy was sure he could get a cool amount of money for this thing if he really didn't care about it.
She finally let the ring go before looking up into his face. "....this isn't some engagement thing where you get me to open the glove compartment and surprise! 'Will you marry me?'"
And now that she'd said it out loud, it seemed about the stupidest thing in the world, and it showed in the way her face turned red and her palm smacked her forehead.
There was a loose gesture towards the glove box, and Nikolai offered the most simple of explanations: “I needed to store it somewhere, so I put it in storage.” He paused, then added, “Until I decided what I wanted to do with it, that is. Which is to say… no, I hadn’t any plans of marriage in mind.”
He leaned against the seat with his shoulder, twisting a bit to face Buffy a bit more easily. The ring was still held in his hand, though he wrapped it up in his grip and obscured it from sight for the moment. “And, by your reaction, I’m led to believe that’s a good thing.” He raised his brows and stooped a little to see if he could find her attention beneath her attempts to mask her embarrassment. His demeanor was far from offended, though there were several questions now prying at his mind.
“Also, is that really how you think I would ask?”
She looked up, hand still against her forehead, but she could clearly see him now. She hadn't thought about it before seeing that giant rock, but now that she'd obviously made a mistake (and voiced it like an idiot), she suddenly found herself wondering how she would answer that question.
There was no doubt that Buffy liked him. She liked him a lot. To the point that sometimes she felt a bubble forming the words I love you trying to force its way out of her throat. The trouble was: she wasn't sure if that was the kind of thing he was looking for. They just didn't talk like that a whole lot, and when they did it usually ended up in kissing and other things.
What would she have said if this was a real proposal?
And no plans? There was some stupid part deep down inside that was almost offended. What was wrong with her that he had no plans?
"I'm not the one who proposed to Alina the second time you met her. How should I know?"
The thought seemed to have struck Nikolai with a physical blow -- albeit, a gentle one that mostly made him sit a bit more upright as he considered her challenge. “In all fairness, it was the obvious political move at the time, and a prince’s romantic yearnings and hopes -- should they wish to drift in another direction -- are crammed inside a dark box until he forgets he ever had them. You likely wouldn’t see me propose to someone so madly in love with someone else again. And definitely not the second time I met her. If I could help it, that is,” he answered, tone still entirely jovial. Perhaps even pensive at the moment.
“Do you know that back in Ravka, nearly every day met me with some sort of reminder that I hadn’t married or secured an heir? Royal engagements are things wrought of necessity. If love finds a way into it, it’s generally luck and a happy chance.” He shrugged. In his hand, he could feel the cool surface of the emerald. A stray thought was running laps in his mind: he did have a ring. It could be used to propose with. It was hard to shake the idea now that it had taken root.
“I rather enjoy running off into the unknown with someone equally willing, but the best part about all of this? There is no expectation. No pressure,” he finished.
Buffy felt the wind out of her sails, just a little. It wasn't that she wanted him to propose (again, she had no idea how she would have answered that), but she also just really enjoyed spending time with him. The ring was just one of those things that you saw and your mind instantly went to mush. You saw this kind of stuff in the movies all the time. Woman opens glove compartment, woman finds ring, cop grins while boyfriend waits for answer. She blamed Chick Flicks for this line of thinking.
Well, the cop was gone now, and Buffy seemed to have struck a nerve with her last comment. She wanted some way to make it up to him, but saying Hey, sorry for assuming you were going to propose, let's make out instead seemed unsatisfactory.
"See, that's where you're right. I have expectations." She undid her seatbelt so that she could lean and twist herself until her head was on his shoulder, looking up at him. "I have expectations that you'll probably get a ticket before this trip is over, and that we'll probably have a lot more hanky panky in a terrible motel room." And then as an afterthought and quickly, she added, "....and I'm sorry for thinking that you might be proposing in a car in the middle of nowhere."
“Is that so?” Nikolai asked, feigning enough surprise to almost look taken aback by the suggestion. He lifted his free hand to push a lock of her golden hair away from her face. Ravka would never allow this. He knew that. But out here? Ravka was too far away to know any better.
“Well, what more could I ask for than someone who has that much faith in my ability to get into trouble?” His smile was genuine, if not tinged with that ever-present glint of mischief. “Let’s put this away,” he added, holding out the emerald-adorned ring. “Back where it came from -- for now. Unless a choir of angels break out in song and the lighting is just right, of course. Who am I to argue to such a thing? Or, I suppose, if we ever need a concealable weapon. I can only imagine the dent it would leave. My mother would be aghast at the thought, but, in all truth, likely not surprised. Habitual rule-breaker that I am.”