Banner by Vampkiss
Banner by Vampkiss
Chapter 22
Spike stood on the steps leading to the altar and struggled
not to cringe at all the religious symbols on display. Beside him, Doyle,
shuffled his feet back and forth, but for an entirely different reason – he
still couldn’t figure out why the Powers were keeping him in the past with
Spike. A few of his other groomsmen stood in stoic silence as they waited for
the wedding to get underway.
The blond-headed vampire breathed an unnecessary sigh of relief that he’d
managed to avert disaster and actually marry the Slayer before her memories came
rushing back. His mind drifted over the past month while he waited for the music
to begin and the first of several birds to come walking down the aisle.
He distinctly remembered the Slayer’s trembling body as he’d held her after
leaving the Duke’s ball. She’d not voiced her concerns – which in hindsight had
worked out for the best since he’d not needed her chaperone to look at them
suspiciously – just clung to his chest as he’d attempted to soothe her fears.
He’d waited until the household had settled down before going to her and she’d
stayed up waiting for him. Holding out her arms for him from her position in the
middle of the bed. He remembered she’d started crying at one point, scared that
she’d be taken from him and thrust back to that “awful” place, and he’d done
almost everything he could think of to show her that he wouldn’t let her leave
him. But, she’d vehemently denied his reassurances, her hysteria continuing to
increase, and it had taken him burying his cock within her depths and draping
his body over hers until she'd finally calmed down.
He’d left her in the predawn hours, too exhausted to do nothing more than sleep
the morning and early afternoon away. And, he’d prayed she’d wake with her
memories firmly locked away.
Only the vampire had not been able to sleep and instead went to his study to set
plans in motion to formally marry the Slayer, allotting her and her chaperone
just one month to make the necessary arrangements. When the Slayer had balked at
him, citing that most weddings took months if not a year to finalize, he’d told
her in no uncertain terms that it would be one month, and if she had a problem
with anything, to see him and he’d work through any issues with money. Throw
enough money at it, and the problem just seemed to disappear. And, Spike had
more money than he seemed to know what to do with.
So, for the next month, the two women had plotted; he’d rarely seen the Slayer
during the day as invitations were finalized, a wedding gown chosen, the
reception and meal planned.
He’d thought everything was moving along smoothly until Mrs. Rothworth had
knocked on his study about a week into their allotted month. Her charge was
upset and no amount of coaxing could get the girl to voice her troubles. Spike
had gotten up to see what was troubling the Slayer, but Doyle stayed him.
Understanding dawned in the vampire’s eyes, and he nodded once to the other
demon.
It was time for the half-breed to explain to the Slayer why her parents had yet
to make an appearance after the banns had been posted. Doyle practically dragged
his feet leaving the study, muttering possible conversation openers as he left
the study.
Spike remained behind so that he could comfort her once the bad news was broken.
And she’d come running, tears pouring down her face as she raced into the study.
Spike just held her close while she poured out her imaginary grief at the death
of her parents. Doyle had explained that Spike had wanted to wait until after
the wedding before telling her the bad news, how he’d not wanted to spoil what
had been such a joyous occasion. When she’d burst into the room, claiming she
couldn’t get married now because of the mandatory mourning period, he’d nearly
exploded. Yet, he’d managed to calm himself and explain that if they’d waited,
whomever her father had chosen as her guardian would have the say in her life.
Which also meant that no one could know about her parent’s death until after
they were married.
She’d blustered and cried some more, but was eventually swayed to his way of
thinking and gone back to her planning. The first few days after finding out,
she’d been just going through the motions, not taking part as enthusiastically
as she once was. But, as the days wore on, her cheery disposition returned until
she was once more her giddy self at the prospect of marrying the Earl.
Spike couldn't make the days go by fast enough. After the Duke of Sevring’s
ball, when the Slayer and her friends weren’t planning for the wedding, the two
were attending one function after another. Her instant popularity among the Ton
had been established once it was noted that she was the intended bride of the
Earl of Arundel. And, since the Earl had settled his differences with his father
– not to mention the way he had with money – invitations were flooding in,
requesting their presence at balls and soirées. He didn’t even want to remember
the steady stream of visitors into his home that caused both him and Doyle to
seek sanctuary within his study.
He’d not minded, so much, the activity. He’d surprised himself by actually
getting along with a few of the vampiric nobles he’d been introduced to. No,
what worried him were the increased interactions of the Slayer with others. He’d
always worried when she’d disappear with her chaperone to attend some tea that
she’d come back with her memories intact and a stake gripped in her fist.
But, after that incident on the dance floor, she’d not had another – not that
he’d counted the occasional Spike’s the Slayer had shouted when an orgasm would
rip through her body. Her body may realize who her lover happened to be, but her
mind wasn’t quite ready to learn.
So now, here he stood in a single file line with five other men, all in matching
dress, trying not to pull at his cravat as he waited for the women to appear.
His cerulean colored eyes scanned the packed church that had come to bear
witness to his marriage. He just wished the bloody thing would move along, so he
could marry the girl and escape the suffocating walls of the religious building.
Then, finally the music started and the first of the Slayer’s bridesmaids began
her walk down the aisle.
~*~*~*~*~
There’s something about seeing a woman in a wedding dress for the first time
that seems to leave one gaping like a bloody ponce. Yes, he’d already claimed
the girl. Yes, he’d let the Powers manipulate him into actually performing a
human ceremony. But, as he caught his first glimpse of the Slayer in all her
finery, no matter that it was eighteenth century
couldn’t-make-out-a-hint-of-a-figure-underneath-all-that-material garb, Spike
could do nothing more than stare like everyone else.
She was a vision. Clichéd, but true.
Made of the palest silver, the long-sleeved gown hugged her arms and upper body
like a second skin. The bodice came to a “vee” in the front, and the current
fashion of plumed skirts flaring at the waist was modified to a gentle swell
outward from her tiny waist. His eyes narrowed in on the plunging neckline and
thought for sure that if she were to inhale too deeply, she’d burst out of her
top and flash all the guests. A train attached to the back of her collar to
trail behind her at least ten feet. The only jewels she wore were the blood red
ruby necklace he’d gifted her with almost a month ago, and her engagement ring.
Her hair was swept back from her face to fall in riotous curls down her back,
completely ignoring society’s latest rage of the huge pompadour hairstyle.
As she slowly made her way towards him, he entertained thoughts of striding down
the aisle, ripping the bloody contraption off and having his wicked way with her
right in front of all of the guests. Spike watched her grip tighten on his
father as he helped her down the aisle, a stumble so slight he doubted anyone
noticed. But he had, and severed the call he’d unconsciously exerted via the
claim.
Then, she smiled at him. A secret smile that showed him she knew what he’d done,
and couldn’t wait for the ceremony to be over so they could actually act upon
it.
And, he sent up a silent prayer to a God he didn’t believe in for Him to hurry
these proceedings along and end his torment.
When his father finally reached him and relinquished his hold on the Slayer,
Spike breathed a mental sigh of relief. He slipped his hands in hers and gazed
down at her upturned face as the priest bound them together…forsaking all
others.
All too soon, the wedding was complete, and his hands lifted to cup her jaw and
he swooped down to claim her lips in a fierce kiss, the passionate embrace
eliciting titters among many of the guests. Reluctantly, he lifted his head from
the Slayer's, smiling slightly when she remained as she was – head lifted, eyes
closed – and he couldn’t resist a second hard, quick kiss. He felt her smile
beneath his lips and his answering smile presented itself before he had a chance
to stop it.
His hands fell from her face and he reached out with one hand to lead her down
the aisle and past the guests.
~*~*~*~*~
Since the Marquess of Chadworth’s townhome was much large than his son’s, he’d
volunteered to hold the reception there. When Spike and the Slayer stepped
inside, the place was already teeming with people. They danced and mingled with
the wedding guests until Spike thought he’d go crazy if he didn’t have her right
then.
Leaving the small group of gentlemen he’d been chatting with, Spike searched for
his father to make his excuses. He’d waited long enough – at least he figured
spending two hours at this bloody reception had been very generous on his part.
Personally, he’d rather have skipped the formalities and gone straight to the
bedding aspect of this night. Wending his way through the crush of people, he
finally zeroed in on is father. It was a bonus that the Slayer happened to be
standing next to the older man – it saved him from having to hunt her down.
He watched as she happened to glance away from the Marquess, like she'd sensed
his approach, and saw her face light up with delight. Spike took a moment to
revel in the feeling of the undisguised emotion on her face, locking the moment
away to pull out once the Slayer’s mind was once more in the driver’s seat. The
vampire didn’t kid himself that the girl’s feelings would last past the moment
when her memories returned.
“William,” Elizabeth gushed as he moved to stand next to her, “I was just
thanking your father for allowing us to use his place to hold the reception, and
if, by chance, he’d seen you. I think all this celebration has gone to my head
and find that I might need to lie down and rest for a bit.”
“I was just about to search the masses for you when Elizabeth noticed your
presence,” the Marquess added.
“I’m sorry, William, but would you mind terribly if we left the party early?”
she questioned of her husband.
Spike could barely hide his smile at his good fortune. He’d thought that it
would have taken him hours to convince the Slayer to leave her own reception.
Her feeling unwell provided just the excuse he needed to steal her away from
this crowd so soon after arriving. Once back at his townhouse, he could cure the
Slayer of her slight illness in the most sinful of ways before departing for his
country estate for the week.
“I’m sorry to hear that, luv,” he responded. He just hoped he was able to keep
the eagerness out of his voice. “Why don’t we get you home to rest for a bit?”
“I’m sure that’s all I need,” she told him. “I wasn’t able to sleep well last
night, and I hate to leave all of these guests…”
The Marquess hurried to assure her that everyone would understand, patting her
hand in a fatherly way as he drew her towards the front door.
Spike had just settled her into the seat and gotten the carriage underway when
the Slayer attacked him, planting herself in his lap and ravishing his lips. The
minx! And here he’d thought that he’d have to coax her into this…
~*~*~*~*~
Willow woke first, the sunlight filtering in from the blinds and shining across
her face from her spot on the floor. She stretched, wondering why she’d fallen
asleep on the floor, and leaned over to wake Buffy – but found Xander’s dark mop
of hair peeking out of the sleeping bag.
The redhead sat up abruptly, the events of last night rushing over her, and she
leaned over to shake her friend awake.
“Xander! Wake up!”
The boy burrowed himself deeper into his cocoon, moaning under his breath for
his mother to leave him alone.
“Xander! Come on…wake up. We’ve got to get back to the library. I’m sure Giles
has set up some type of research party to locate Buffy.”
“Hey, you two, keep it quiet,” Cordelia’s voice drifted down to them from her
place on the bed. “Some of us need our beauty sleep.”
“Wha?” Xander’s voice sounded at the same time. Willow rolled her eyes –
apparently the name Buffy was enough to tear him away from sleep.
“Buffy…you know…the Slayer. She disappeared yesterday?”
Xander sat up, his eyes taking in his location. ‘So this is what Cordelia’s
bedroom looks like!’
“Huh? Oh, right! Buffy!” Xander exclaimed, once more focusing on the matter at
hand. “We probably should go then.”
Cordelia sat up as well and flung the covers off of her.
“Well, since I’m obviously not getting any more sleep today, I may as well get
dressed and come with you,” she told the two before flouncing into her
connecting bathroom and shutting the door.
The two friends sat on the floor staring at one another, confusion marring their
features.
Did Cordelia just offer to help them?
~*~*~*~*~
Cordelia had parked her car next to Giles’ blue relic and the three made their
way towards the back entrance of the school. It was the closest door leading to
the library and the watcher was in the habit of leaving it open when he was
there, in case the Slayer or her friends were to stop by.
Their shoes clicked hollowly on the deserted floor as they walked towards the
swinging doors of the library. When they stepped inside, the first thing they
saw was a huge stack of books littering the table where Giles sat – well, slept
– head resting on a place beside one of the open volumes.
“Giles?” Willow called out softly so as not to scare the man to death. It didn’t
work, and they watched as he jerked awake and nearly upended his chair.
“Willow? Xander…Cordelia? What are you doing here? I thought I told you to go
home.”
“Uh, G-man…we did. It’s morning now, as in the day after.” He pointed to the
window. “See the light?”
“Oh, did you spend the whole night here,” Willow asked concerned. Then, not
waiting for an answer she told him, “We came back to help, figuring
you’d…well…be…” She gestured towards the stack of books. “…researching.”
“Yes, well, uh…right. Uh… make yourself at home,” Giles told them, gesturing
toward the chairs around the table.
Willow noticed one of the books that both she and Buffy had been looking at
after seeing the diary the other day and moved to put it on another table out of
the way.
“Ooooh, I’ll take that one,” Cordelia announced, putting her hands on the book.
“It doesn’t look ‘quite’ so old as the other ones…less dusty too.”
The redhead shrugged her shoulders. It wasn’t like Cordelia was going to find
anything useful in the book and that would leave the other, more important,
books to Willow and Giles.
As the others sat down, Xander escaped briefly to make a donut run.
“Oh, get some of those jelly-filled ones…” Giles called out to the departing
boy.
“Right, jelly-filled goodness for the G-man.”
“And would you stop with that infernal name you insist upon calling me?”
But Xander was already out of the library and didn’t hear.
~*~
The others were deep into research-mode when Xander
returned with their sugar high. Both Willow and Giles looked deep in thought as
they pored over the old tomes opened before them. Cordelia was curled up in her
chair, idly twirling a lock of her hair with her index finger, when she flipped
the page and sat up so suddenly the book nearly toppled out of her lap.
“Oh my God! Look at this, Giles.”
“There can’t be anything there,” Willow told the brunette. “That’s just a
history book of titled men and women in eighteenth century England. Buffy and I
were looking at it the other day after stealing Giles’ watcher’s diary…”
Her voice trailed off when she realized what had just come out of her mouth. She
glanced guiltily towards Giles, her face flaming red in embarrassment.
“Shows what you know, Miss Smartypants,” Cordelia told the redhead, plopping the
book down on top of the opened one Willow had been reading. “Says right here,
the Earl of Arundel married Lady Buffy Anne Summers on December 12, 1775.”
“That’s just a coincidence…” Willow stammered.
“Oh, yeah? Take a look at this!” Cordelia flipped the page and Willow gawked at
the replicated painting in the book.
“Oh my! That’s just…Giles! That’s Buffy…and Spike!”