Marriage Made in Sunnyhell

by Spikesdeb

Chapter 1

“In here – come on, while there’s a table free.”  The trio of wet women burst through the entrance to the café, the tinkle of the bell over the door bringing smiles of remembrance to two of them.  Apologising to the people who got whacked with their shopping bags and dripped on from their umbrellas, the giggling group finally arranged themselves in the far corner of the busy café by the steamed-up window. 

“God!  I didn’t think the sky could hold so much rain!” said the blonde, betraying her California roots.  “I mean, I know – England, famous for rain but. …still… maybe that’s why they call it the autumn – trying to forget the fall of the wetness.  Should we rethink the al fresco ceremony – wrong time of year and all that?”

“Oh no, Buffy!  You have to!  You’ve got the vows all written up and Amber’s got the altar all ready and with the candles and the willow wand and the…and you’re messing with me, right?”

Buffy chuckled at her red-haired friend.  “Oh, Willow!  You are so easy to tease!  You think I’m backing out now, after I’ve finally got him to agree with me over the ceremony?  No way!  That vamp is going to be wedded and bedded like it or not; I know what trick or treat I want for Halloween!”

“Buffy!  I think Spike’s rubbing off on you with the sexual innuendoes.  What happened to coy girl?”

“Pfft - I guess she’s back in Rome.  She wouldn’t like what I have planned for this trip.  Complete prude, you know.”

The third person at the table watched the exchange between the old friends indulgently, a slight smile playing around her mouth.  She’d heard so much about Buffy from Willow but it was nice to finally meet her.  She felt as if she already knew her as they’d been exchanging e-mails and instant messages for the past six months since Amber had finally found the courage to ask Willow out for a drink one night after a coven meeting.  Looking sidelong under lowered lashes, the honey-gold of her hair swinging across her cheek, Amber peeked at the woman who had rapidly become her entire life.  Willow flashed her a wide-eyed smile as she chatted happily with Buffy about the arrangements for the wedding and the “hen night”, reaching out across the table to clasp her hand as she turned back to continue her conversation.  The younger witch still couldn’t believe that the gorgeous redhead would want to be with her, but every day just got better and better.  And she thanked Freya each night as she lay down to sleep at the side of her flame-haired lover. 

“So, I think we’re all ready for the ceremony, but what have you guys cooked up for my ‘last fling’?  Hunky stripper?  Sex toy party?  Both – with whipped cream?  Hmm?” 

Willow rolled her eyes.  Despite Buffy’s easy manner she knew that in reality she’d freak if she were faced with a gyrating g-string.  Not to mention what Spike would do if he found out that ‘Red’ had led his Slayer into a den of iniquity; no that was his job!  But the sex-toy party…hmm, that was an idea that hadn’t occurred to her.

“Just you wait and see, missy.  You’re supposed to be kept in the dark until your jaw drops when you find yourself tied up and naked.  Or, wait…that might be the boy’s thing…I’m still not sure how these English customs work.  Maybe you’re just supposed to be dressed up with big learner plates and flashing tiaras…don’t worry, Buffy!  We’ll be with you all the way.”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about!  Now, Willow.  Can we just go over the details again?  I’ve got the vows down – you got those, right, the e-mail?”

Willow smiled.  She’d read through Buffy’s vows with tears spilling down her face.  Her friend had come through so much to be finally at a place where she could open her heart to the world.  But that was nothing compared to the sobs that wracked her frame when she read the vows Spike e-mailed to her.  Bloody Awful Poet?  She didn’t think so.  The words were deeply moving, truly beautiful.

“I got them, Buffy and Spike’s too.  Everything’s going to be fine.  Trust me.  Amber’s worked wonders with the set-up, we went up to the site yesterday and everything just needs lying out when we get there.  You got the pictures I e-mailed you?”

“I did, and I’ve been on the website but I just want to see it now!”

“Well, we can go sneak a peek tomorrow afternoon if you want, before we hit the sex club.”

It took a full five seconds for the end of that sentence to hit Buffy’s brain.  “WILLOW!”

Willow chuckled.  “Just joking, Buffy…probably.”

Rolling her eyes, Buffy scanned the menu.  Her appetite at the moment was out of all control.  She knew that if she was really a traditional bride-to-be she should be refusing all food and dieting to get into the gown.  But the first thing Spike did when he turned up on her doorstep in Rome was drag her out for a pizza and pasta blow-out, telling her she needed to get some flesh on her bones.  Her vampire liked something to get hold of.  Oh, boy, did he ever!

After ordering a large serving of cherry cheesecake and large latte, and ooohing an aaaahing over the choices made by Willow and Amber, Buffy settled back into her chair delighting in the comfortable feeling washing over her.  She’d never been happier; a young woman in love, she was about to marry the object of that affection, and she was surrounded by friends.  What could be better than that?

“I’ve been wondering how you knew…you know, that he was the one?”

The shy girl with the golden hair looked up at Buffy, her mannerisms and gentle nature so reminiscent of Tara that Buffy knew why Willow had fallen head over heels with her in such a short time. 

“That’s a question and a half…hmmm.  Well, I suppose deep down I’ve known all my life…my second, no wait, third life.” At the girl’s confusion, Buffy explained glibly, “I’ve died twice – Xander gave me mouth to mouth the first time then Willow invoked all manner of occult assistance the second time and brought me back from the dead.”

At Amber’s shocked look, Willow nodded solemnly.  “I’ll tell you all later, sweetie…it’s worth an entire night of storytelling.”

After shifting to allow the waitress to serve their goodies, Buffy continued.  “Well, when I came back from the grave -- I mean, literally as in clawed my way out -- I wasn’t really…me, not entirely.  You see, I’d been in heaven and then I was dragged out.”

Casting a glimpse across at Willow who was visibly cringing, Buffy leant forwards and covered her friend’s hand with her own.  “Willow, please.  I don’t bear any malice against any of you.  At the time, yeah, I wasn’t happy.  Understatement of the century!  But I get why you did it, really I do.  And now………well now I am so grateful to you that I can never thank you enough!  Without you I wouldn’t have this, I wouldn’t have Spike.  And that would be way worse than being dragged out of heaven.”

Both girls across from her sighed out an “awww”, and the whole table was in danger of collapsing as they leaned together over the top of it in a wet-haired group hug.  Untangling the multi-coloured strands and sitting back down, the various yummy goodies were eaten and appreciated, the drinks sipped and mmmmmmmmm-ed at and waistbands loosened.

“Go on, Buffy.  Please!  It’s all so romantic!” Amber sighed.  Willow reached over and caressed her hair affectionately.  She loved this woman fiercely and thanked the Gods that she’d been in the right place at the right time to connect with her. 

“Well, as Willow will no doubt tell you, it took a lot to get me to react to anything when I was first back.  I couldn’t feel anything, really, except wrong.  Not happy, not sad, not angry.  I just…existed I suppose.  My sister and my mom couldn’t get through to me at all and as for my friends…I resented them, you see, for yanking me out of heaven.  But they didn’t know why because at first I didn’t tell them where I’d been.  They assumed I was in some hellish dimension and thought I was just shell-shocked.  I couldn’t tell anyone…except Spike.  He knew.  He was always there, you know, just there waiting to take anything I could give him.  He’d tried to tell me hundreds of times how he felt about me but I was awful, just treated him like it was some big joke.  I didn’t want to believe him because if I did it meant changing my whole outlook on demons.  I was the vampire slayer; demons were soulless beings and didn’t, couldn’t, love.  If I admitted anything else then how would I be able to carry out my calling?  If every time I met a vampire, a demon, I’d be wondering about the family it left behind as I staked it… hence the no-believe Buffy.”

Buffy smiled at the memories of all the times Spike had been there when she needed him, hovering in the background until she deigned to notice him.  And she always did notice him; she finally admitted that to herself.  In fact if ever she couldn’t see him, she craned her neck around trying to sense him until her vamp radar picked him up.  Then she would settle.

“So, to gloss over a particularly unsavoury part of my third life, we started a fairly tempestuous relationship that quite literally brought a house down – don’t ask!  We met in secret; I treated him abysmally, like an object that I could vent all my frustration on.  But he loved me, all that time he kept on loving me, and no matter what I did to him he was always there.  I pushed him away from me eventually, he was starting to make me feel something and resurrected Buffy couldn’t abide that feeling.  So I told him to move on, forget me.”

“I shouldn’t have been surprised that he did just that.  I mean…have you seen my fiancé?

All three girls chuckled, Willow somewhat nervously as she wasn’t used to Buffy being this sharey.  She was unsure what was going to be the next statement, recalling the look on Buffy’s face as she watched Spike ‘getting it on’ with Anya in the Magic Box. 

“Anyhow, enough about that particular moving on ‘cause it gives me major wiggins.  There was a nasty fight between us, things were said and done that shouldn’t have been and Spike left.  I thought he’d gone for good.”

And she really had, she realised, and that thought made her stomach cramp and her heart contract painfully.  The thought of Spike having left after the bathroom…and never having seen him again.  God, it made her feel nauseous. 

“But then he did come back, just when I needed him.  You know about the First Evil, right?”

Amber nodded, “Willow told me all about the last year in Sunnydale and the battle.  And…Sp-Spike.”

Buffy smiled at her.  “Yes.  Spike.  Well, that whole year was just so…draining.  I was like a general of the troops all of the potentials, just little girls, and I was responsible for them.  When the first one got killed, it really hit home with me.  I was used to risking my own neck day in, day out.  I even got used to the fact that the Scoobies did that, although I was never really comfortable with it.  There was only one way to cope with the daily horror, I switched off again.”

“Well guess who got past the barriers?  God, he’s like a terrier, yapping at you until you open the door.  So I did.  We spent more and more time together and a couple of nights before the final battle I had a falling out with the rest of the group and left it all behind, left Faith in charge.  Of course, Spike found me in an empty house I’d holed up in and he gives me this amazing speech about how he loved me but didn’t expect anything from me, how he believed in me.  He told me I was ‘the One’, those bright blue eyes boring into mine.  And in that moment I knew.  I wanted him to hold me; I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me.  But I couldn’t, not yet.  Not until after the battle.  I had to focus on the mission; I had no time available for Buffy me.  But I felt it – that’s when I knew.”

Looking up, she saw Willow and Amber staring at her with tear-filled eyes.  Buffy quirked her lips in a little smile and wiped tears from her own cheeks. 

“Then of course came the battle.  We had the scythe, we had the potentials and we had Goddess-Willow.  And we won.  But Spike….” Buffy’s voice broke with emotion at remembering the scene in the Hellmouth, hands clasped with fire flickering across their joined fingers.  “I told him then, before…I left him…I told him that I loved him; but do you know what?  He didn’t believe me.”  Pain again, clutching at her chest as she remembered “……..No you don’t, but thanks for saying it..” 

Shaking herself from her anguished recollections, she rubbed her hands together and tried for cheerful.  “Anyone else for more coffee?  It’s still raining out, I don’t fancy a soaking.” 

Willow knew that Buffy was having difficulty working through that particular time in her history.  “I could go a mocha.”

“Me too, Buffy.” Amber smiled, relieved that the tension was lifting somewhat.  She knew of the final days, of course, Willow had told her everything.  But seeing Buffy’s face as she remembered Spike’s demise was just painful.

Carrying on the tale, Buffy leaned forwards, the hurt in her eyes replaced with a sparkle.  “So now we all go on with our lives, Willow in England with the coven; Dawn in school here with mom moving over, Giles running a new Watcher’s Council, Xander with Faith and Wood in Cleveland.  And I stayed in Rome.  When Dawn decided to come to England I thought about it, was tempted to come over and find out as much as I could about Spike…well, William…. when he was alive.  But I decided against it.  I decided for the first time in my adult life I would just be me and I wanted to stay in Rome and just discover who me was.”

Mentally Buffy cringed as she thought of all the clubs and wine bars she’d frequented in an effort to reinvent her life.  All the frenzied dancing and drunken kisses she’d exchanged with virtual strangers whilst searching for blonde hair and blue eyes.  Then one night after she’d staggered home to the flat she reluctantly shared with Andrew by default, she’d finally managed to get her key in the door, cursing under her breath with a string of expletives Spike would have been proud of.  Bowling in the door on unsteady feet, she’d stumbled and was caught up by a strong pair of arms.  Drawing in a deep breath, she caught a cry in the back of her throat – she knew that scent!  Leather, old cigarette smoke and…Spike.  Looking up she was caught in the most intense diamond blue gaze of her fallen lover and she cried, racking sobs that tore through her body and left her weak.  But she didn’t fall, she would never fall again as Spike wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his chest and whispering into her hair, “Buffy, I love you.  I did believe you… I love you. Oh god, how I love you.”

Andrew just sat and cried, mumbling incoherently, overcome with happiness.  Oh how he wished he’d had his video camera to record the moment!

“So,” Buffy continued, “Spike came and found me, and the rest you know.  All loved up and happy.”

Both girls listened to the tale, hands clasped under the table, eyes wide with rapt attention and punctuating the recounting with sighs and oohs when necessary.

Amber wanted more.  “And the proposal; what happened when you decided to get married?”

Buffy nearly squealed with delight.  She never tired of telling this bit, having thought she would never be in this position it just overwhelmed her to tell people about it.  Going into giddy-girl mode she tossed her drying hair over her shoulder and started in. 

“Well, after Spike came to Rome we spent a week or two, well more really, just getting to know each other.  We hadn’t really spent much time alone through everything.  So we did the date thing, restaurants, cafés, movies.  It was only after a week I found out he was trying to fatten me up, thought I was way too skinny!  But something was missing for us; yep, you guessed it – the violence!  We took to patrolling after dinner, just strolling around mostly by the river.  Seems that’s where the vamps and demons hang in Rome.”

“After a couple of months it became our nightly ritual, go patrolling, work the angst off, got our blood pumping…well, my blood at least.  And it was wonderful.  We weren’t doing it because we had to; we were doing it because we could.  Anyway, this one night it was perfect; we’d been to a fantastic restaurant in the centre of Rome and eaten tons of food – pasta, bread, gelati and had glorious wine to wash it down with.  You’re looking at me, Willow – I know, not good with the alcohol, but I only had two glasses and it was with food!  Anyway, after that we did the touristy thing, walking round the city by the full moon – the Spanish Steps, the Trevi Fountain.  Super relaxing, holding hands and strolling, occasional kissage.  Just heavenly.  Then we headed to the river for some slaying before bedtime, you know, just to finish the day off.”

“All by the river, under the bridges, there’s this graffiti – Romeo loves Juliet sort of stuff.  Spike and I would read it as we walked, making up stories about where they were now.  Suddenly I stopped dead.  In HUGE letters, must have been 10 feet high, written with glowy paint there was ‘Spike loves Buffy.  Marry me’ scrawled inside a neon-glow heart.  He must’ve planned it for weeks!  Then I turned to him, mouth agape, and he was on his knees in front of me holding out a red rose and a velvet box with the ring in it.  I nearly fainted!  Then I cried, then I screamed, then I said yes, then there was much kissing.  You get the picture….”

“Oh, Buffy, it’s so romantic!  And he’d done it all himself?”

“Yeah, even got the ladders and everything.  Course, when I looked at him closely he was covered in paint.  We had fun getting it off…”

“Too much information, Buff!” Willow chuckled. 

Looking out of the window, Buffy noticed that the rain had stopped.  Glancing at her watch it showed 4.00 pm.

“We’d better make a move, folks.  I promised Dawn we’d have dinner tonight and I said she could stay over.  You ready?”

The girls all checked their purchases and put on their coats, leaving enough money on the table to settle the bill.  Hitting more people with their bags on the way out, they chattered away walking out of the door and up the street before hailing a passing taxi. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2

Joyce Summers was standing at the sink of the rambling Victorian house she rented on the outskirts of London.  Although large, it was cosy enough to feel like home.  The stovetop had a bubbling pan with three eggs bouncing around inside and the grill was spitting and sizzling as the bacon and sausages cooked below. 

Joyce ran the hot water into the bowl and added the detergent to soak the dishes.  Singing softly to herself, she started to load the used dishes into the sink.  As the water was running she didn’t hear the bare-footed pad of the man behind her, who startled her by putting his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck.

“Morning, beautiful.”

“Oh!  You made me jump!  I didn’t hear you.”

“I’m wounded! Aren’t you supposed to know where I am at every minute of the day?”

Smiling, Joyce turned in his arms, taking in his sleep-mussed hair and heavy eyes.  Reaching up to move an errant curl, she stroked her palm down the side of his face before leaning into him and kissing him softly on the lips.  Enjoying the sensation, she moved nearer to him snaking one hand behind his back and the other into the curls at the nape of his neck as she deepened the kiss and felt his tongue slide into her mouth.  Neither of them heard the door open.

“MOM!  GILES!  What the………..what are you……….”

Jumping apart, Joyce and Giles turned to stare at the intruder, guilty looks flitting across their faces.

“Erm, Dawn.  I didn’t expect you until much later today.  I thought you were staying with Willow and Buffy.”

“I am!  I just wanted to collect some things before the big sex-fest hen night.  And I say again, what the hell is happening?”

Giles and Joyce flicked their eyes at each other, unsure how to start, then Joyce just went for it.

“Dawn, I’m sure you know that Rupert and I have been spending a lot of time together of late, what with the wedding coming up and visiting Ethan and everything.  And we’ve always been friends, haven’t we Rupert?”

Giles nodded, not anxious to take over the reins of this particular conversation.  He regretted two things: one, he didn’t have his spectacles to take off and busy himself with and two, he wasn’t wearing anything covering his chest.  Except his frantically moving hands.

“Well, we found that we had a lot in common.  Apart from you and Buffy and the others, we have a shared interest in literature and music.”

“And smoochies it would seem!”

“Now Dawn, don’t be disrespectful to your mother.”

“Oh, sorry………..daddy…”

At the horrified look on Giles’ face, Dawn relented.  Truth be told she’d already known there was something going on between them, but knowing it and coming across your mom making out in the kitchen were two entirely different things.

Laughing out loud at the matching looks of panic on her mom’s and Giles’ face, Dawn advanced towards Joyce and hugged her.  Turning to Giles, she laid a hand on his arm.

“Really, I’m messing with you.  You think I don’t know you’ve been spending the night?”

Giggling anew at the embarrassment that flooded her mom’s cheeks with a becoming pinkness, she continued. 

“I’m happy for you really.  Anything that makes Mom sing in the mornings is fine with me. Just don’t make me watch.”

Giles smiled tentatively.  “It’s a deal.  No repeat performance.”

“Good.  Now can I have some of that slightly well-done bacon and an egg please?”

Joyce smiled at her youngest before turning to the grill-pan and squealing at the plumes of smoke that were spilling around the sides.

She dropped the pan with a clatter as Dawn tucked into her food after saying “and look into some soundproofing for your bedroom walls, Mom.”

******************************

After clearing away the breakfast dishes, Giles disappeared upstairs with a red tinge to his cheeks and ears as Dawn watched his every move.  He’d been quite chatty in a very Giles-like way over breakfast, but nearly every sentence was punctuated with an “erm”, and “ah” or a “dear lord”.  Dawn was having such fun teasing him, and she was ignoring the pointed looks her mom was shooting at her.

As Giles left the room and climbed the stairs, Joyce “ahemmed” loudly.  Dawn turned to her with a practised look of innocence on her face.

“What? What did I do?”

“You know exactly what you did, Dawn Summers!  The poor man is so traumatised right now he can hardly walk.”

This statement was borne out by the stumble and the “Bugger” from the direction of the stairwell. 

As mother and daughter dissolved into fits of giggles, the footfalls on the stairs resumed.  Joyce looked at Dawn and became serious.

“Are you really ok with this, with me and Rupert?”

The earnest look in her mom’s eyes melted any reservations Dawn may have had.

“Mom, if he makes you happy I’m fine with it. It’s not like I don’t know him and he’s practically brought me up with you anyway.  Honestly, I’m happy for you.”

“Really?  I’m so glad, sweetheart.  I want you to be right with this because…….well, I kinda ……love him…….I guess.”

Dawn squealed, decibels in the high range audible only to dogs, and hugged her mother to her.  She really was all right with it.  Strangely so.  In fact, when she thought about it, it was perfectly logical and natural.  Giles had been the only father she’d ever known in truth and she knew he’d take care of her mom.

Releasing each other and giggling like schoolgirls, the two women sipped their coffee in comfortable silence.

“But Buffy’s gonna freak!”

Joyce spat her coffee out on the counter. 

************************

Giles showered and dressed, his mind in a whirl.  He’d been seeing Joyce in a romantic relationship for about three months but they’d only recently taken that relationship further on a physical level.  He’d always admired her, and she was devilishly attractive.  And never forgetting the memorable time of the enchanted band candy she was remarkably sexy and stylish.  In all, she was his ideal woman – intelligent, well read, and gorgeous and to cap it all she knew of his world, the slayer, the vampires.  Chuckling to himself, he wondered why it had taken them so long to get together.

But still, they’d decided to take it slowly, not wanting to involve anyone else until they’d had time to acclimatise to their new relationship.  He supposed they’d have to ‘come out’ now that Dawn was in on it.  He had to laugh at the scene in the kitchen as he remembered back to earlier.  How very British the entire breakfast had been with him perched on a stool, arms covering his bare chest as he hunched over, making polite chit-chat with Joyce and Dawn but avoiding the obvious subject they all were trying to ignore until he felt it acceptable to excuse himself from the table.

He really hoped that both Dawn and Buffy wouldn’t be upset.  He loved them both dearly, Buffy especially, and he didn’t want anything to ruin their relationships with him.  But on the other hand, he wasn’t about to give Joyce up now.  Dawn seemed fine, if a little jumpy but Buffy……..he remembered the last time Joyce had been ‘courting’ and Buffy’s complete inability to accept that her mother had a life of her own.  Hopefully Buffy was now able to recognise that her mother wasn’t just a mother but was also an attractive woman who deserved some happiness.  And he was just the man to give it to her.   Also, he already thought of the two girls as ‘his’ and protected them with a paternal zeal; it wouldn’t be such a big step to actually step into the role for which he’d been understudy for so long. 

As he started down the stairs he resolved to speak to Buffy sooner rather than later.  He didn’t want Dawn to tell her before he could explain things dreading the spin the excitable young girl would put on it.  Before he knew it, Buffy would think she’d walked in on a scene akin to a Roman orgy that morning!   No, he would assure Buffy that his intentions towards her mother were entirely honourable.  Mostly – he conceded as Ripper nipped in with a few thoughts of his own.

“Oh Giles!  You’re dressed – how disappointing!” Dawn teased immediately as he came down the stairs back into the kitchen. 

“Quite,” he retorted with a raised eyebrow, taking a seat next to Joyce at the opposite end of the table. 

Joyce decided to break into the tense silence before the next round could begin.  “I was just asking Dawn how she got on last night with Buffy and Willow, and Amber of course.  Apparently they want to go up to the site today to check the arrangements.  I think I’ll go along too.”

“Oh, yes – that’s a good idea.  I was hoping to call in on Ethan anyway as I won’t get chance after today.  We’ve got the stag night tonight then the final preparations tomorrow before the wedding the day after.  I’ll give Ethan your regards, I know he’ll be disappointed but he’ll understand.”

Ethan Rayne had been transferred back into the hands of the Watchers’ Council after Sunnydale had collapsed into the Hellmouth and Giles had been instrumental in getting him placed in a rehab facility.  He was making good progress and both Giles and Joyce were frequent visitors, helping him to renounce Chaos and come back to some semblance of normality.  Giles was rediscovering exactly what an intelligent man he was and Joyce loved to sit and listen to their clipped English tones as they reminisced about the ‘good old days’ before the black arts had seduced them both.

“Thanks, Rupert.  I’ll fix up a basket to take to him before you go.”

They smiled at each other, only breaking off when Dawn started making a gagging sound and rolling her eyes.

“DAWN!  You are not twelve any more; if you carry on like this I’ll spank you as if you were though!” Joyce warned, her eyes conveying her mood of mixed amusement and sincerity.

Dawn backed away from the table, hands in the air as if in surrender.  “Ok, ok!  I’ll stop.  I need to get my stuff together anyway for the partying on down later.  Are you coming too, mom?  I don’t know what Willow has planned yet but I think there’s baby oil involved.”

Giles choked on his tea, Joyce rushing to pat him on his back.  Flinging her daughter a look that was supposed to be stern, she struggled to hold in her laughter, biting down on her lip and closing her eyes as her shoulders shook.

“Yes, yes.  I’ll be there.  Now go get your things, Dawn.  I’m sure Buffy will be anxious to get her first look at the venue.”

As Dawn scurried off, Joyce turned to the now calmer Giles wiping away the tears that were running down his cheeks as he gathered himself together. 

“God help us -- baby oil?” he queried breathlessly. 

“Well, it’s probably just some cosmetics party or something.  I’m sure it won’t be anything risqué.  It is Willow who’s organising it after all.  She’s not really …….that way inclined, is she?”

“Hmm.  Well.  I suppose not.”

Placing a soft kiss on his cheek, Joyce started to busy herself clearing away the breakfast dishes as he finished his tea.

“Do you know what Xander has planned for Spike’s stag night?  That is what you call it, right?”

“Yes, it is.  But no, I don’t know.  All he’s told me is that he’ll be bringing Spike round to my flat at 7.30 pm and I’m to be ready to ‘party’. Sounds horrific.”

Joyce laughed quietly. “Oh, Rupert.  You don’t fool me…..I’ve seen you ‘party’ remember?  All swagger and attitude, with your curls all swept back.  I’m willing to bet that underneath all this tweed and tea there’s a rock and roll animal dying to get out again.  I’ve met him and I’d quite like to see him again.”

“Is that right?  Well…if you’ve still got those knee boots and the feathery thing handy…” So saying, Giles pulled her towards him, capturing her lips again as he clasped her onto his lap.  Joyce wrapped her arms around him and settled in for a long, deep kiss.

“Do I have to get myself a blindfold!  Hello, people – impressionable young person here, traumatised for life!  Sheesh!  Get a room.  I’m off – see you later – preferably not all tangled up.”

Realising that Dawn was only kidding, Giles tenderly kissed Joyce again, releasing her to her feet then followed Dawn into the hallway.

“Ahem, Dawn.  A word please.”

Dawn adopted her familiar pose, hips kinked to one side, arms folded and head tilted.  This was so much fun!  She could torture Giles forever with this.

“Are you gonna tell me to drive safe and be home by 11.00?  I’m a good girl, Daddy – really.”

Giles rolled his eyes, refusing to be drawn in. 

“Very amusing.  The thing is, Dawn, I’d like to ask you a favour if I may.  When you see Buffy, don’t tell her about…well, you know.  I’d like to tell her myself.  I think I owe it to her.  Would you do that for me, for your mother?”

Seeing Giles’ earnest expression, Dawn softened, uncurling her arms and taking a step toward him.

“Of course.  I’m only playing with you.  I understand.  But just hurry!  I can’t keep this in forever.”

Giles was stunned as she enveloped him in a hug and planted a quick kiss on his cheek before turning on her heels and disappearing through the door.  Well that went well then.  Maybe everything would be all right.  Smiling, he returned to the kitchen plotting how to get Joyce back up the stairs as he went.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3

“Will you stop wriggling!  It’s hard enough doing this back to front without you making such a fuss, you baby!”

“’m not makin’ a fuss!  You’re cutting off my circulation!”

“You don’t have a circulation, dead-boy.  Now stand still!”

Spike was half-dressed in his wedding suit and Xander was struggling to tie the cravat at his throat as Spike kept pulling it away from his neck and popping the fastener open. 

“Aaargh!  That’s it – I’m done.  You do it!”  Xander backed away, throwing his hands up before flinging himself on the couch.

“I can’t bloody well do it, can I, you pillock?  I can’t see what I’m doing, now can I?  Vampire, remember?  Aw, come on, mate…”

With a heavy sigh, Xander hauled himself to his feet and moved round to stand between Spike and the mirror.  “If you can’t see anything in the mirror, why stand in front of it?”

“It’s just, traditional.  You get dressed and look in the mirror.”

“You are the strangest vampire I’ve ever met.  And only a Scooby could say that without it being a weird statement.  Right; that’s it.”

Standing back, Xander admired his handiwork.  “Hmm.  You’ll do; no doubt the Buffster will think you’re super primo. Your hair could use some work though.”  Xander reached up to tug at the unruly, peroxide-free curls.

Spike pulled away, sneering.  “Hey!  I’ve not done it yet, have I?  This is just a try-on.  Come on, you ninny, get your togs on.  I need to make sure you’re not letting me down in the style stakes.  No poncey shirts allowed; I know you can’t resist a flowery number.”

“I am not getting undressed in here with you, Spike!  Yeah, I agreed to be best man but that doesn’t include flashing you a glimpse of the old Xander love-machine.  No way.”

“As if I’m interested!  Pffft!  You are seriously delusional, mate.  You’re not my type.”

“As I recall you saying before, I’m a nummy treat and don’t you forget it.  Anyway, we don’t have time.  Get those things off and back on the hanger.  I’ve got a stag night to arrange.”

“Yeah; can’t wait.  Right rollickin’ time me, you and Giles are gonna have.  What we gonna do – sit around and swap tea-brewing tips?”

“Aha! That’s where you’re very, very wrong!  I have it all planned out, I just have to go pick up a few things.  So come on – let’s move it!”

Spike had stripped off the sleek jacket and trousers and was laying them reverently on the bed, smoothing the fabric down.  Removing the cravat and undoing the shirt, he glanced up to see Xander looking at him with an amused smirk gracing his features.

“What?”

“It’s just, I can’t get used to the Big Bad being concerned about creased pants.  It’s just odd.”

The raised eyebrow in reply just made Xander laugh.  “Nah.  I’m not getting the ‘I’m gonna eat you’ vibe.  Might be the fact that you’re stood there with your knackers hanging out below your shirt.  Not a very threatening pose, I have to tell you.”

Xander ducked the shoe whistling towards his head and headed off to the bathroom.  Left alone, Spike continued undressing, arranging the shirt, cravat and suit in the holder before hanging it up.  After shrugging into his jeans and black t-shirt, he stroked his hand through his hair making a mental note to himself to get it cut before the wedding.  Smiling to himself he decided he’d go one further, have the bleach job redone.  He hadn’t had it bleached since Rome, Buffy saying she liked his curls and natural colour.  But he wanted to remind her that in marrying him she wasn’t just marrying the man – she was marrying the monster inside him, the black leather duster and peroxide hair the symbol of that melding.  And let’s face it – she always did love a bit of monster in her man…

Xander walked back in to find Spike tidying away the boxes and wrappings the accessories and suit had come in.  He marvelled at how the vampire could still give off an air of menace whilst carrying out such domestic tasks.  He marvelled further at the fact that it no longer freaked him.  In fact, it comforted him in a way – it was familiar, the feeling of not-quite safety engendered by being in proximity to a creature whose primary imperative was to rip and rend.  It reminded him of home.

Inevitably, thinking of home caused him a sharp stab of pain as he recalled the last time he’d been there.  Anya.  Beautiful, unique, stupidly brave Anya.  He still loved her, always would.  He’d tried to move on in the years since her death but nobody had come close.  Maybe he was destined to be alone, a punishment for the way he’d treated her – the abandoned wedding.  He could live with that, welcomed it in fact.  He wrapped the pain around himself like a cloak.  If he still felt the anguish, she wasn’t really gone. 

Noting Xander’s pensive face as he flopped down on the couch, Spike had a flash of empathy for him.  It had been a while since there’d been any outright enmity between the two men.  After Sunnydale imploded Xander drifted off, not keeping in touch with the old gang.  It was a full year before he made any contact, seeking Willow out by e-mail.  After much coaxing he’d been persuaded to visit England and hadn’t left after being seconded by Giles into the new Watcher’s Council.  He couldn’t fight, not with his lack of depth perception, but he’d discovered a latent and surprising talent for demonic languages.  Having spent his entire tenure as a Scooby actively avoiding research, he now ran a small department dedicated to it.  Ironic.

So it was at the Council’s London headquarters that Spike and Xander had come face to face when Buffy attended her first Council meeting.  It hadn’t gone too badly – Xander hadn’t tried to stake Spike and in return Spike kept his fangs sheathed.  After being thrown together by circumstances, despite much grumbling and cussing the two men reached a tentative truce.  At first Xander wouldn’t even acknowledge a relationship between Buffy and the vampire, trusting instead to that Sunnydale selective memory that allowed him to ignore the handholding and kisses that inevitably peppered any Spike/Buffy meeting.  Eventually, even Xander’s single eye couldn’t ignore the fact that Buffy radiated happiness, more than he’d ever seen in all the time he’d known her.  Giving up the last remaining vestige of his teenage crush, he’d hugged her and told her sincerely that if Spike was the one who made her skin zing, he wished them every happiness.  Buffy cried, hugging him back and whispering ‘thank you’.  The simple acceptance by her oldest friends of the man she loved was the final icing on her cake of bliss.  Or should that be cookie. 

Over the months, Spike and Xander had inch-by-inch opened up to each other, grudgingly giving respect and being politely civil, both in person and more remote dealings.  Spike found he actually looked forward to the teasing exchanges that always punctuated their interaction and more and more often he rang or e-mailed Xander just to chat.  Xander in return took delight in trying to outdo Spike in the snark stakes, the amiable ribbing cementing the fragile bond of friendship that had sprung up so unexpectedly between them.  Still, he’d been surprised and touched when Spike asked him to be best man.

Shaking off his melancholy, Xander jumped to his feet, covering the turmoil of his feelings in the time-honoured male way by play-punching Spike in the arm.  The two men’s eyes met.  Spike understood; Xander acknowledged it with a brief nod.

“Right then, Spike, times a-wasting and there’s much malt beverage to be bought.  I’m gonna drop you at Giles’ flat then head on out to complete the fiendishly evil plans I’ve been plotting to see out your bachelor days in style.  You ready?”

“Not sure.  Depends what’s on the agenda.  Run it by me.”

“Nope.  Nuh huh.  That’s not the way it goes, and you know it.  You’ll have to wait until later.  Come on; if you don’t whine, I’ll let you choose the music in the car for a treat.”

“I don’t whine, you ponce!  And no bloody bimbos, alright?  Don’t fancy getting staked by the bride if she smells another bird on me.  You hear me, Harris?”

“Move your lily-white ass to the car, Spike.  I’ll take objections en route.”

The banter moved away down the corridor, through the doorway to the underground garage and out of earshot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 4

As the car pulled into the roadway leading up to the site chosen to host the wedding ritual, Buffy’s stomach started doing the flip thing.  This was it; she was actually marrying Spike.  William.  Bloody, the.  She’d already seen pictures of the area and the grove itself, but they didn’t do it justice.  Willow and Amber had suggested the place as being suitable for the Pagan wedding as it had been held in veneration for millennia and was reputed to be a source of great power.  Buffy wasn’t religious – she’d dealt with too many ‘gods’ to stick to a Christian belief system - but she had been in some form of heaven, she believed there was something.  Spike had been raised in a strict Church of England household but of course a church ceremony was out of the question now.  Buffy smiled to herself as she recalled the conversation they’d had when they’d been under Willow’s “Thy Will be Done” spell.  Even then they’d struggled to settle on a suitable form of celebration. 

Eventually, after much girly discussions, Willow had suggested The Rollright Stones, a site just north of Chipping Norton in Oxfordshire.  It had a Neolithic stone circle that could almost have been created for weddings and handfastings, and as it was one of Amber’s favourite places and she was also a “Friend” of the Rollright Stones Trust, it seemed ideal.  Buffy hadn’t known what to expect, but the photographs Amber had e-mailed her showed a lush green area with the three sets of stones separated by a short walk.  It was a commercial venue in part, of course, there being a visitor centre and central car park, but still the place had managed to retain its otherworldly aspects.  It sounded ideal.

Joyce pulled the SUV to a halt and engaged the parking brake.   Turning to her, left she was overcome with a surge of maternal love and pride as she saw the look of awe on Buffy’s face.  Her eldest daughter was…glowing; there was no other word for it.  Cheeks flushed, eyes wide and moist, small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.  She looked adorable.  Buffy turned in her seat to face her mom, the slight smile breaking out into a full-on beam.  Unable to resist, Joyce reached across the gap and embraced her little girl in a crushing hug.

 “Oh, Buffy.  You’re getting married!  My little girl.” 

Tears were running down Joyce’s face now as she pressed a wet kiss on Buffy’s forehead, smoothing her hair back from her face. 

“Shall we go see the Stones?”

Buffy nodded.  Excited, she turned in her seat to face the three giggling females in the back of the car.  Dawn lurched forwards between the seats to grab hold of her sister in a repeat of the mom-hug.  There was a soundtrack of “aaaawww” from the Wiccas as they held hands in the back and soaked up the lurve in the car.

The women exited the car in a haze of oestrogen.  It was a reaction programmed in every female at a genetic level; one sniff of a wedding, the double x chromosomes immediately formed a bridal party and got with the confetti.  Amber lead the way to the stones, telling them a little of the history as they went.  The area was steeped in mysticism and had been the site of many a pagan festival.  Halloween was one night of the year when the area surrounding the stones was lit up with torches and the air filled with chanting.  It was “All Hallow’s Eve”, the time when the barriers between this world and the world of the dead were broken down and communication was possible.  It was only the fact that Amber was on the ‘inside’ that allowed the wedding party to book the venue on that date.  Usually the site was reserved for the Friends of the Rollright Stones to celebrate their most important day of the year; this year they were going to incorporate the wedding into the festivities.

As the girls walked along the gravel path, they listened to Amber recounting tales of past celebrations.  Once they rounded the corner and got their first glimpse of the Stones, they were stunned to silence.  A green clearing bedecked with the remnants of summer meadow flowers surrounded the lichen-covered stones arrayed in a circle.  Within the circle lay a chunk of stone that had toppled from the perpendicular and formed a natural altar.  There was an aisle flanked on either side by sentinels of rock, age-old observers of human comings and goings. 

It was, as Amber had suggested, perfect.

“…so I thought if we set up the altar with the green cloth, sprinkled with white rose petals and the candles either end.  The willow wand…….hee, just got that reference……Willow……sorry, the willow wand would be laid out on the altar with the rings and the handfasting ribbons draped over the top.  Did you read the reference page I sent, Buffy?  Have you decided upon the colours of the candles and the ribbons?”

“I think so; I’m gonna read through again later then I’ll let you know.  I wanted to see it first, then it would be real.  I’m so excited!”

Buffy and the others walked around the Stones in silence, reaching out occasionally to stroke the mottled surface and commune with the spirits.  It was a magical place, no doubt about it.

Satisfied that everything was going to be just perfect, Buffy suggested that they return to London and get on with the smutfest send-off.

“There’s gonna be smut, right?” she queried.

Willow grinned.  “Oh yeah, baby!  Smut ahoy – gird your loins…whatever that means.”

Giggling and excited they packed into the car and headed back to the city.

***********************

“So…the big night of wild debauchery you’ve got planned is just me, you and Tweedyman, sitting around contemplating life over a can of lager and a war film.  Doesn’t exactly grab me, mate.”

“No, not a war film……. not just a war film.  There’s a selection of films.  All of the adult variety.”

“Well, there’d better be a ‘Debbie Does Dallas’ amongst that lot or I will bite you, Harris”

Xander snorted.  “Yeah, right.”

Spike slumped his shoulders and sighed.  “This bloody do-gooding gig’s a right pain in the arse!  Just move it, might as well get it over with.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, Spike checked that the necro-tinted windows of the car were wound all the way up.  At least he could thank Angel for that little gift; although absconding with the car without permission possibly wasn’t exactly the definition of gift.  Still, to give Angel his due he hadn’t really tried to get the car back and hadn’t cursed too much when he’d caught up with Spike in Rome.  Even so, the poncey git was not getting an invite to the wedding.  There was only so far his soul was willing to go and that was way past his limit.

Xander shut the door and started the engine, pulling smoothly out of the parking garage and into the afternoon sunshine.  He couldn’t help but cast an inquisitive glance towards his passenger as the car was bathed in sunlight.  He’d never seen the vampire in daylight before and to be honest it was giving him a major wiggins.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Xander?  Watch the road, you idiot!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Xander replied as he swerved to avoid an oncoming vehicle.  “It’s just…you’re so…pale!”

Spike merely settled back into the seat, putting his feet up on the dashboard.  “Well, yeah…slight sun allergy here.  What, you think I should get a fake tan before the wedding?”

At the thought of Spike standing in a tanning booth wearing nothing but paper knickers, both men cracked up, their laughter filling the car as it sped away towards Giles’ apartment.

***************************

Since the discussion the day before, Willow had been busy!  Not only was there an “Ann Summers” representative coming round to ply her goods, but she’d organised a strip-o-gram to entertain the Summers women and the more ‘up for it’ members of the coven.  Her small house was decked out in ribbons and balloons, and whilst pinning them up she’d had a momentary twinge as she’d remembered decorating Buffy’s house in Sunnydale for Xander and Anya’s impromptu engagement party.  She cringed as she recalled the argument she’d had with Tara that night over her increasing use of magic.  It still hurt, the loss of the first woman she’d loved. 

As Amber crept up behind her and wrapped her within her arms, Willow leaned back into her embrace.  “Memories?” she asked softly.  Willow nodded.  Amber placed a soft kiss on her cheek, reassuring Willow with her presence.  Breaking out of her reverie, Willow turned and gathered her girlfriend in a crushing hug. 

Buffy and Dawn came tumbling into the room, squealing as they spied the banners.  “Willow!  It’s great!” Buffy exclaimed as she bounded up and joined in the hug.  Joyce came trailing behind, toting a bottle of schnapps in one hand and a shot glass in the other. 

“So, what’s the plan, Miss Rosenburg?  I heard mention of baby oil?”

“Mother!” Buffy gasped out. 

Joyce chortled, having downed at least a third of the bottle already.  “Oh, Buffy.  It’s only a bit of fun, loosen up!  Come on, have a drink.”

Accepting the proffered glass, Buffy drank it down following it with her patented ‘bleargh’ and shaking head.  The girls collapsed into a fit of giggles as they watched her.  “He was right!  It’s hilarious!” Willow laughed.  “Do it again!”

Buffy giggled along with them as she poured another glass.  “Ok, but somebody needs to be on hand to fish my hair out of the toilet bowl later.”

Dawn made an ‘ew’ face.  Grabbing a bag from off the side she approached her slightly unsteady sister.  “You have to put these on, Buffy.  It’s tradition.”  Taking the bag from her, Buffy’s eyes widened as she looked inside.  Pulling out a sash with “Learner” emblazoned across it she slipped it over her head and settled it on her chest.  Next, she retrieved a garter complete with flashing lights that she snagged on over her jeans.  Dipping in again, she came up with furry handcuffs, a whip and a tiara, which looked fairly harmless until you realised that the points on the tiara were little pink penises.  Reaching across, Dawn flicked the switch on the side and the little penises started to glow and vibrate.  Buffy set it on her head, a wide grin across her face.

“Okay, girls.  Bring on the stripper!”

At that moment the doorbell went.   Buffy turned white.  “I was only joking, Willow.  I don’t really want a stripper.  Honestly.  Spike would kill me!”

Willow gulped nervously.  Oh well – too late to cancel now.  “It’s just the coven, I’m sure.  Amber, would you let them in?”

Amber scuttled off to get the other witches.  The party was soon in full flow, music spilling throughout the room and little groups of women sitting giggling as they got to know each other better.  Another ring at the doorbell, then Willow turned down the sound system as she ushered in a bubbly brunette laden down with bags.

“Ladies, for your delight and delectation, I’m pleased to present…Miss Conny Lingus and her Cornucopia of Deviant Devices!”

Squeals followed the announcement and the girls all settled down as the Ann Summers representative started laying out her wares.  A dizzying array of battery-operated sex toys were passed amongst the giggling women, the laughter swelling as Dawn placed the finger and thumb vibrator on the floor so that it could jiggle its way towards Buffy.  Soon ‘Conny’ had them all wearing nametags…but not their own names.  Buffy had the dubious pleasure of being called ‘Wanking Wanda’ whilst her mother, to Buffy’s horror, went by the pseudonym ‘Cocksucking Clara’.  Buffy’s cheeks had never been so red!

Games followed, including ‘pin the penis on the naked poster’, ‘match the penis to the naked man’ and ‘finish the limerick with an appropriate smutty ending’.  After an hour of this, everybody in the room was limp with laughter and each woman’s vocabulary with regards to names for genitalia had trebled. 

So loud was the noise that only Willow heard the doorbell ring a third time.  She hurried to the door to greet the poor man who was going to throw himself on the mercy of the rampant women.  As she took in his appearance, she stifled a giggle.  She’d been very specific with her request to the agency and it appeared the poor man had done his best to give satisfaction.  She smiled encouragingly, took his coat and led him to his doom.

At his nod, Willow pressed play on the CD player he’d handed to her and threw open the door.  All eyes swivelled to take in the new distraction.  As a raunchy beat started up, the strip-o-gram entered, lower face hidden by his cloak, à la Bela Lugosi.  When the guitars kicked in, the dark cloak was flung back to reveal an evening suit in the style of every vampire film ever, except this time it was straining around 200 pounds of beefcake.  He’d made an effort with pale make-up, slicked back hair and stage blood smearing his mouth and the plastic fangs overhanging his bottom lip.  Wriggling suggestively, he dropped the cloak, adopted his best threatening pose, and launched into energetic grinding and thrusting.  The shrieks nearly drowned out the music as the women rocked with laughter.

Then he headed towards Buffy.  “I am Shagula the Impaler, Miss Learner,” he drawled. “All women tremble before my irresistible body.” 

Buffy laughed hysterically.  This was so lame!  “Oooh, I’m scared of the big, bad vampire!  Won’t somebody save me?” she spluttered.

She stopped giggling, though, when the faux vamp stepped in front of her and ripped open the rigged suit to reveal a stark naked body, save for his crimson leather posing pouch and Doc Marten boots.  Posing again, the stripper stroked his hands down his body till they came to rest on his hips, pointing to his …package. 

Buffy was horrified.  Backing away, she found herself pressed against the wall as he sauntered closer, rolling his groin and shimmying his hips as he came closer.  There was a chorus of ‘get em off’ in the best tradition of hen nights, then measured handclaps to punctuate the man’s gyrations.

As he reached Buffy, the stripper whipped out a bottle of baby oil stashed in the back of his thong and held it out to her.  Buffy shook her head, eyes wide. “Uh-uh!”  The roar from the women got louder, and emboldened by the audience, the stripper reached out to grab Buffy’s hand and rub it along his chest. 

Buffy reacted instinctively.  As he grabbed her hand, she brought her other one up and punched him – watching with horror as he sailed backwards to crumple in a heap on the floor.  The mass indrawn breath emptied the room of noise, save for the persistent music coming from the CD player.  Willow flicked it off as she looked from Buffy’s horrified face to the fallen stripper, out cold on the floor. 

The silence stretched; then Dawn snorted, “Oh, man!  That was so cool!”

They all collapsed in hysterics again, a combination of alcohol, adrenalin and shock fuelling their reaction.  Only Willow and Buffy remained wide-eyed and immobile.  As the man on the floor started to stir, Willow snapped into action.  It wouldn’t do for him to wonder how the hell he’d been knocked out by such a petite blonde, so Willow cast a little memory spell, just so that he thought he’d done his usual routine and all was well.

“Oh, are you alright?  You tripped on your cloak….here, let me help you up.”  He accepted Willow’s offer, slightly bemused as his head cleared.  Still, he’d done the job, everyone seemed happy.  As soon as he’d got his money he’d be on his way to the next gig.  Flashing the room a smile, he waved cheerily as the redhead saw him out and handed over the cash.  As the door closed behind him, he heard the guffaws of laughter that always followed his appearances.  He smiled to himself; if he could spread a little happiness…

****************************

“So…no ‘Debbie Does Dallas’, no ‘Basic Instinct’ in fact………no women-flesh of any kind?”

“Yeah, there’s ‘GI Jane’”

“Bloody hell, Xander – you do realise that you were only army guy for one day that Halloween.  And yet despite that you seem have developed a fixation for war films and all things military.”

“What!  It’s a hobby!  Everybody needs a hobby, Spike.”

“Yeah, well.  It’s just…this is my stag night, innit?  I’m supposed to be ‘sowing my wild oats’ and having a final fling before closing the ball and chain over my ankle.  As stag nights go, this is pretty lame, admit it.”

Giles cleared his throat.  “Spike has a point, Xander.  It’s hardly a rip-roaring festival of sexual innuendo, now is it?”

“He said no strippers!  Made me promise, threatened me with Buffy.  Ask him, if you don’t believe me.”

Giles poured them all another glass of scotch.  They sat sipping their drinks in silence. 

“Soooooo, who fancies a game of poker?”  Xander and Giles nodded their agreement and the three men moved to the dining table.

Four hours and two bottles of scotch later, they were still at it, the CD player in the background playing mellow mood music.

“Still say it’s weird without the kittens………”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5

Buffy woke and stretched, inadvertently hitting her sister in the head.

“OW!  Clumsy much?” the younger girl complained before diving under the covers of the bed she was sharing with her sister in Willow’s spare room.

“Sorry, Dawn.  Forgot you were there.  And don’t go back to sleep – get up.  Squeeee!  It’s my wedding day!”

“Yay!  And you’re not getting married until it goes dark.  So go back to sleep.  It can’t be any later than 7.00 am.”

“I can’t sleep!  I’m excited.  Oh come on, Dawnie!”

Dawn grumbled and tried to burrow further under the quilt.  She screeched as Buffy ripped all the covers off the bed and started bouncing up and down.

“Thought you had a headache.”

“No, that was yesterday after the party.  There’s a reason I wanted to have it two days before the wedding and that was it.”

“Alright! Alright!  I’m up, quit bouncing – you’re making me seasick.”

Buffy bounded off the bed and ripped back the drapes covering the window.  It was still dark outside but it didn’t seem to be raining so that was a bonus.  Turning back to the bed, Buffy noted the comatose form of her sister still curled up in an attempt to retain the warmth of the missing covers.  Feeling excited and giddy, she pounced on the younger girl and started tickling her mercilessly, giggling along with her. 

“NO!  Buffy….stop………I can’t…….breathe……..BUFFY!  NO! ...HELP! MOM!!!”

Buffy relented, slumping back onto the bed and lapsing into companionable silence as Dawn stretched and groaned, before swinging her feet down to the floor.  She still found immense pleasure in simple things since her days of being “The One” had ended.  Hanging with her sister, shopping, dining with her friends, just…being: each activity created a swell of emotion that lapped at her heart’s core and made her thankful for her existence.  Of course, that appreciation had only started after being enfolded in her vampire’s arms in Rome after yet another drunken night of disappointment.  Prior to that pivotal moment, the very fact that she was still here, breathing and continuing on without him, caused her anguish and turmoil with every second that passed.  But now…now every second was treasured as the precious thing it was, every moment savoured.  Now she had Spike.  Spike……….

“Oh I want to see Spike right now!” Buffy squealed out as she jumped up from the bed.

“Well, you can’t so get back down here.  It’s bad luck before the wedding.”

“Oh, I don’t believe in that nonsense, Dawnie.  I need smoochies!  Now! Give me my cell phone.”

“No.  No way.”  The girls indulged in a heated competition then over the cell phone clutched in Dawn’s hand, Buffy trying to trip her and grab it.  Finally snagging Dawn’s leg from under her, they collapsed in a heap on the bed, knocking over a lamp from the bedside table as they did so.  The resulting crash brought Willow, Amber and Joyce to the room.

Buffy and Dawn tried to look full of remorse under the baleful eyes of the hastily robed trio at the door but failed miserably.  Giving in to the giggles lodged in her throat, Buffy bounced up and hugged the three; “I’m getting married!  Today!  To Spike!”

Her laughter was infectious, the five-way hug completed by Dawn.  Eventually, the women broke up the love-fest and headed down to the kitchen for breakfast.

**************************

“Time to get up, Spike!  Come on now, don’t make me come in there with the wet sponge.”

“I’m up, you ninny.  Been waiting for you to stop that bloody awful snoring for hours.”

Xander opened the door to the connecting room in the hotel suite he was currently sharing with Spike.  “You decent?”

“Well, much as a bad-ass vamp can be decent I s’pose.”  Grinning, Spike pushed himself off the bed, clad only in pyjama bottoms.  “I usually do a Marilyn Monroe but didn’t want to offend your innocent eyes, Harris.  Besides, don’t want you going all jealous on me when you compare our packages.”

“Pfft!  Yeah, right.  Get over yourself, you pulseless prick.”

“Nice comeback – you been listenin’ to me for tips?”

“Just get in the shower.  We need to be ready to leave in an hour so that we can get installed in the Lodge at the Stones.  Don’t want you bumping into Buffy before it’s time – it’s bad luck you know.”

“Bollocks to that!  If I see her I’m gonna give her the biggest…”

“DO NOT finish that sentence.  Just go get showered, alright?”

“I’m on it.”

Spike stopped dead mid-way across the room.  He looked up at Xander, his jaw slack and eyes wide.

“What?  What is it?”

“Nothing.  It’s just…I suppose it hadn’t really hit me before, been so caught up in everything, you know?  I’m…she’s…bloody hell, Xander…….I’m getting married!  Me…to Buffy!”

“Yep, you are!”  Xander smiled a big toothy grin.

“Wow.  To Buffy; my Buffy.  The Slayer.  She’s marrying me.  Bloody hell!”

Xander walked up to the stunned vampire, patting him on the back.  “I’d say breathe deep, but then – that won’t work, will it?  Come on, two fingers of JD’ll get the old motor revving then it’s into the shower with you.  Move it, dead-boy – that’s an order.  I’m the best man so I’m in charge.”

Pressing a glass of bourbon into Spike’s hand, Xander manoeuvred him towards the bathroom, leaving him at the threshold.  Spike downed the golden liquid, feeling the warmth course through him.  Turning back to the bedroom, he spoke softly to Xander’s departing back. 

“Thanks, mate.  For everything.”

Xander nodded.  Another moment of shared understanding between the two men.

***********************

“That’s the last bag, Willow.  I’ll just go and check again…”

“It’s done Buffy, relax!  Everything’s ready and in the car except this last one.  Trust me.”

Buffy smiled, nervously.  Her excitement of the morning had been replaced by a slightly panicked flutter in the pit of her stomach.  She just wanted everything to go perfectly and most Buffy-centred celebrations had a tendency to veer off in the opposite direction.  God, her birthday bashes over the years had been anything but straightforward, the unexpected gatecrashers who always seemed to join the party causing no end of mayhem.  Always a good fight to remember

But that was back when Sunnydale was Monster Central, when Buffy’s life hadn’t been hers to control.  Before she’d been released from the burden of her calling, before she’d found peace.  The Powers That Be owed her one.  She intended to collect, big-time.

Before they could leave to go to the car, the doorbell sounded.  Quizzical looks all round, nobody was expecting a visitor.  Amber answered the door, returning with Giles in tow.

“Giles!  Is anything wrong?  Spike…is he…”

“Everything’s fine, Buffy.  I just wanted a quick word with you before you left.  Joyce…would you join us?”

Buffy followed Giles into the living room, Joyce behind her.  Amber looked at Willow. 

“What was that about?”

“Don’t know, sweetie.  But I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”  Lugging the last bag out to the car, Willow and Amber left them in the living room.

*************************

“Sit down, Buffy.  Don’t be alarmed!  It’s nothing awful…I hope you think that anyway.”

“Now I am getting seriously wigged, Giles.  Come on, I’m tense enough here!”

“Well, the thing is…ahem, what I mean is…perhaps you’ve noticed that …ahem…lately I’ve been spending a lot of time with your mother and Dawn.”

“Yeah, you’ve been helping Ethan with his rehab; and Dawn’s kinda always a bit needy and she so needs help with homework.  What are you getting at?”

Giles shot a look at Joyce, silently begging for help.  Joyce just raised an eyebrow and folded her arms, an enigmatic smile on her face.  Nope, no help there then.

“Erm…quite.  Yes.  Well.  Ahem…”

“Giles – would you spit it out!  I’ve got a wedding to go to you know.”

“Yes, erm…right then.  The thing is…”

Joyce sighed and took pity on him.  Standing at his side, she laced her fingers through his, tightening her grip as he instinctively jerked away. 

“Buffy, what Rupert is trying to tell you is that we’ve been seeing each other, as a couple.  And we want you to be okay with it.  Are you okay with it, honey?”

Buffy was stunned.  Or rather…she thought that she ought to be stunned.  Actually, she found herself not at all surprised.  Looking at her mom as she leaned against Giles, hands clasped together, she took in their body language; they were settled with each other, happy to be in close proximity, content.  How could she be anything other than pleased to see her mother and the man she thought of as her father so at ease?

“Oh mom!  Of course I’m okay with it.  More than okay.  And Giles… don’t really know what to say, but…I’m fine, I really am.  I’m so happy for you both.”

Giles felt the relief flow through him.  He’d been tense the entire drive over, not sure how Buffy would react.  He’d hoped she’d be accepting, didn’t want to dare think any further than that.  But she seemed entirely happy.  He didn’t think he’d ever been prouder of her than that moment.  She’d grown up.  His slayer. 

Buffy enveloped them both in a hug before collecting her purse and coat.  Heading to the door she turned, a mischievous smile on her lips.  “You coming…daddy?”

Oh dear lord.

*************************

Buffy gazed at herself in the long mirror.  She wore a gown of pale green silk, bias cut, fitted at the bodice then flaring out over her hips to finish at the floor.  The neckline was sweetheart shaped, following the curves of her breasts before ending at the edge of her shoulders.  Tulle sleeves fell from the shoulder line to finish in points draped over her hands, the edging decorated with embroidered flowers.  In her hair, which was swept up with tendrils draped loosely around her face, she wore tiny white flowers trimmed with green leaves, smaller versions of those that formed her bouquet. ‘Not too bouncy to be distracting,’ she thought with a smile.  Fixed at the back of her head a simple veil cascaded down the back of the gown to end at the hem.

Joyce gazed at her eldest daughter, one hand at her mouth.  “Oh, Buffy!  You look so beautiful!”

Turning to face the other occupants of the room, Buffy smiled.  “Thanks, mom; I bloody well should do – this dress cost a packet!”

“Channelling Spike, Buffy?” Dawn enquired. 

“Oh I do hope so…” Buffy breathed, her cheeks flushed.  “Do you think he’ll like it?  He’ll hate it, won’t he?  Too girly.”  She spun to face the mirror, fidgeting with the hair ornaments and the sleeves.

“No, Buffy.  He’ll love you.  He always loves you.  You look terrific, honestly.”

“Well; it’s either this or the jeans so he’s got two choices.  Right.  I’m ready.  What time is it?”

“The sun’s just going down, Buffy, so Amber and I’ll head out to the altar and get things ready.  You sure you’re happy with the candles, the colour?  You want me to run through it again?”

“Erm, yeah – better had.  Don’t want to call down a curse, do I?”

“Oh, that wouldn’t happen, Buffy!” Amber burst out; “The Gods wouldn’t be offended – it’s just the colour of the candle and the ribbons calls to different Gods.  White will call to all the Goddesses, but if you want specific blessings you need to use the right colour.  You’ve decided to call on Freya and Aphrodite, yes?”

“Yeah – I’ve always linked Aphrodite with love and Spike’s studies were along the lines of Greek mythology, so I think that’s right.  And Willow told me that Freya was the Mother Goddess so I figure she’s the one I should be thanking for leading Spike back to me.”

The combined “aw” of the wedding party made her eyes fill and her bottom lip tremble. 

“Yes, that’s right.  So, Aphrodite – her candle colours are pink and red while Freya’s are green, red and black.  So red should cover it just fine.  I’ve set up the white candles already so I’ll just see to the red at each end of the altar.”

“Now the cords or ribbons have meaning too.  Did you look at the chart I gave you?  Have you decided?” 

“I think so.  Part of me just wants them all – you know, just to be on the safe side – but I think gold, white and red should cover it.  Is that okay?”

Amber smiled.  “Very wise choices, Buffy – red for courage, strength and passion; gold for unity, prosperity and longevity; and white for peace, sincerity and devotion.  I think you’ve covered all bases.  I’ll go and see to it.”

“Thanks, Amber.  You’ve been a great help.”  Buffy gripped the young wicca’s hands in hers, squeezing them as she looked into her eyes. 

“It’s been my pleasure, Buffy.  And I’m sure the Goddesses will smile down on your union.”

Amber scurried off to put the final touches to the altar and make sure that the candles were aligned properly with the points of the compass.  Dawn went to take her place in the clearing and Joyce went to seek out Giles and check on Spike. 

Left alone, Willow turned to Buffy and the two friends smiled at each other.  “Who’d have thought this would be happening, Willow?  All those years ago, the first thing he tries to do is kill me and what do you know – the Buffy heart takes that as a perfect first date!”

Chuckling at the memories of their time at school, made rosy with hindsight, the two girls embraced. 

“I wasn’t sure at first, Buffy, you know that.  He was a sadistic killer who tried to cut my throat with a broken bottle once, so I think my reservations were deserved.  But when I see you look at him, when he looks at you…it’s like the whole world goes away.  You were never this happy with Angel or with Riley -- well, he was nice and safe but you said yourself…. you missed the anguish.  I think Spike had it right all along…you need a bit of monster in your man.”

“I do that!  My man, my monster.  I love him more than I thought possible, Willow.  When he was gone, after the First Evil…I couldn’t even function properly.  It was like a gaping hole had been left inside me.  I didn’t even realise how cut off from people I was, until he turned up on my doorstep.”  Buffy smiled to herself.  “He’s so frustrating sometimes but I want that, I need that.  I’ll never be Mrs Normal, Willow.  How could I be after all that I’ve seen, all that I’ve done?  But I’m absolutely ready to be Mrs The Bloody.”

Both girls snorted; it was a standing joke with them as to what Buffy’s married name would be.  The door opened softly and Xander slipped inside.  He took in the vision of his two oldest friends, all pink with happiness, and his mouth curved into a grin.  Noticing him, Willow and Buffy stretched out their hands, drawing him to them. 

He moved to join them in a group hug; “So, how’re my best girls today?  You good?”

“Just peachy!  You bring my vampire here in one piece?”

“Sure did – all spruced up and chomping at the bit.  He’s kinda pacing at the moment but I’ve taken the JD off him for now, so he can actually still speak.  Hey, Willow – your double x’s still look good in formal wear.”

The redhead blushed, remembering the incident before the prom when she’d locked lips with him and freaked afterwards.  “Yeah, well your xy’s ain’t pulling the style level down either!”

Amber came back in at that moment and the three friends broke their embrace, each remembering with mixed emotions the last wedding the Scoobies had attended.  Buffy reached out a hand and stroked Xander’s arm as she recognised the pain welling up in his eyes.  He was thinking of Anya, of the last time they’d all gathered in wedding clothes.   Softly she spoke to him, “I know, Xander.”

He acknowledged her concern with a nod of his head.  Willow softly brushed her lips across his cheek and smoothed his hair back from his forehead.  He flashed her a watery smile, then took a deep breath and headed towards the door.

“Well, don’t know about you lot but I’ve got a wedding to go to.  See you all later!”

*************************

Everything was placed according to tradition, the candles at the compass points, the salt, the water.  The night wasn’t warm but at least the sky was clear.  At the front of the grove was the stone altar, spread with a green cloth and bedecked with candles.  Candles also blazed around the stone circle and each guest carried a small flame.  In front of the altar, Spike stood with Xander at his side – his new suit and shirt causing him some discomfort as he pulled and pawed at the neckline. 

“Stop fidgeting!” Xander hissed at him, whilst keeping a smile fixed on his lips.

“Can’t bloody help it!  You’ve strangled me, I can’t breathe!”

“You don’t need to breathe – you’re dead.  Now shut up – they’re coming”

They turned to see the candle-lit procession approach the avenue between the stones.  Buffy was a vision of pale green silk and golden hair, shimmering in the candlelight as she approached the altar.  Giles linked her arm as he guided her forwards and Dawn and Joyce followed her behind.  Willow and Amber stood to off to one side of the altar awaiting the bride.

About two feet away from the altar the procession stopped, Buffy’s eyes fixed on Spike’s as she came to a halt.  Spike smiled at her, a heart-stopping flash of teeth that hit her in her gut and caused her to breathe in sharply.  God, he was gorgeous.  And he was blond! Somehow, that seemed right, brought the thing full circle.  And he was hers.

Reluctantly, she broke the locked eyes between them and they both turned to face the altar, Xander melting away into the dark.  The drums that had accompanied the procession silenced as Willow stepped forwards to begin the proceedings.  At Buffy’s puzzled look, Willow winked at her.  This was the final surprise – Buffy had expected Amber to officiate as Priestess, but Willow had wanted to do it and had cleared it with the coven.

Willow started the ceremony with blessings and invocations to the Gods to bless the union of the two people in front of her.  The guests formed a circle around them, holding hands with the person next to them, and Buffy and Spike joined hands in the centre.  Willow began.

“In this sacred circle of light, we gather together in perfect love and perfect trust. O Goddess of divine love, I ask thee to bless this couple, their love, and their joining, for as long as they shall exist in love together. May they each enjoy a healthy life filled with joy, love, stability, and fertility.”

Spike and Buffy held hands together over the dish of salt that Willow placed beneath them. 

“Blessed be by the ancient and mystical Element of Earth. May the Goddess of love in all her glory bless you with love, tenderness, happiness, and compassion for as long as ye both shall live.”

The blessings continued, then Willow smudged their brows with incense before handing them each a white candle to hold.  Waving the willow wand above them, she chanted:

“Blessed be by wand and flame, symbols of the ancient and mystical Element of Fire. May the Goddess of love in all her glory bless you with harmony, vitality, creativity, and passion for as long as ye both shall live.

After blessing them with oil and water, Willow consecrated their wedding rings and the cords that would symbolise their union before approaching them and handing them the rings to hold and one end of the cords each.  Nodding to them to begin their vows she stepped back to allow them centre stage.

“I was dead inside before you reached me, soul empty, bereft.  I thought my life would be merely an existence but you drew forth from me such yearning to be part of this world.  I am what I am because of you.  You complete me.  I love you.  I never want to be parted from you.  I don’t forget what went before; it is part of who you are, part of who I am.  But together we are greater than our separate parts.  And I want to be a part of you forever.  I give you this ring as a symbol of that promise; as it is a circle without end, so is my love.”   Buffy slipped the ring on Spike’s finger, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I am yours forever.  I was lost for an eternity, cut off from the world and content to be so.  The emptiness within me I filled with violence, hurt, cruelty.  But the moment I saw you shining in front of me, I had to be a part of your life.  Had to absorb your light, have it illuminate the dark places inside me.  Buffy, without you I am only a part of what I am meant to be.  I will never leave your side, will never leave you to fight the darkness alone.  I am what I am.  I am what I became…for you.  Your light makes me whole.  I am yours.  Forever.” 

Spike placed the ring on Buffy’s finger, and then completed the knot on his end of the cord.

Willow stepped forwards and tied the other ends of the cords in a knot as they held the knots they had tied as a symbol of their love. 

“By the knots on this cord your love is united.”

Willow tied their hands together and asked the guests to give thanks to the Gods.  After a moment of silence, she removed the cords, clasping their hands as she did so.

“By the power of the Goddess and her Horned Consort, I now pronounce ye husband and wife for as long as ye both shall live together in love. So mote it be.”

There was a “whoop” from the guests as Spike gathered Buffy in his arms and crushed her to him.  Holding her face cradled in his hands, he slowly lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, sucking her full bottom lip in between his teeth and nipping it with a promise of things to come.  Finally breaking contact, Buffy’s hazel eyes burned into his before she gathered her skirts and turned to face the congregation.

The gathering erupted into cheers and applause as the bridal pair made their way through the throng to join in the All Hallow’s Eve worship as practiced at the Stones for hundreds of years.  As the Pagans who worshipped there all year round carried out their rituals, the wedding party stood to the side in awe.  The magical power was tangible.  Amber had explained that in the Pagan tradition All Hallow’s Eve was the night when the veils between worlds was at its thinnest, allowing the souls of those who had passed on to wander freely in this life again.  With the mist rising between the stones and the haze cast by hundreds of candles, there was no doubt in everybody’s mind that this was so.  Buffy caught Willow’s eye as Amber spoke on, giving her a small smile as she no doubt thought of Tara at that moment.  Not forgetting Xander, Buffy reached across Spike to squeeze his hand, a small token to remind him that Anya may be gone but not forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 6

Once they’d reached the Lodge, the partying started in earnest.  Dawn had arranged a disco with a DJ who played the cheesiest songs in existence!  Even so, it had been perfect – everyone seemed to forget propriety and let loose the dancing demon inside.  Sweaty and dishevelled, Joyce and Giles had ‘boogied on down’ to all manner of wild and frenzied tunes before collapsing in a tangle of limbs in the corner.  Xander delighted everyone by performing ‘the Snoopy dance’ at increasingly incoherent requests from Willow.  Dawn drank too much champagne and fell asleep with her head on a table.  It was a perfect wedding – there was even a fight!  Clem had turned up at the last minute amongst squeals from Dawn and Buffy, but his erudite pro-kitten poker oration hadn’t gone down well with the coven, and he’d been slapped and bitten by the collective gaggle of women, many of whom had cats as familiars.

He’d seemed to enjoy it, though, so no harm done.  In any event, he’d sloped off into the corner with a shy brunette and much giggling was coming from their direction.

They’d done the “Ladies and gentleman, I give you ……the bride and groom” dance, although it was a bit of a battle as both of them wanted to lead.  They’d been round the mixed gathering of Pagans and Scoobies at least twice and hugged and kissed so many people they were dizzy with it.  At one point they’d gone round the group in opposite directions and met up in the middle, melding their bodies to each other as they passed and parting with regret moments later.

Following a pointed look from Spike, Buffy started to set the stage for their hasty exit.  After all, it WAS their wedding night.  And she hadn’t so much as touched him for three days apart from the kiss at the altar.  Mucho kissage required.

Eventually, the company formed an arch beneath which the newlyweds passed, laughing and raising eyebrows at the ribald comments that followed their departure. 

*************************

Finally, they were alone.  Buffy stepped into their room ahead of Spike, sweeping the floor with her skirt and causing him a momentary twinge as he was reminded of his life before Drusilla delivered him from mediocrity.  Leaning back against the door, it clicked closed, the sound of the lock shooting home causing Buffy to spin around to face him.  She lowered her eyelids, suddenly shy at the look that fizzed the air between them. 

“Well, well.  Alone at last, pet,” he murmured.

Buffy risked a glance at him.  “Seems like.”

“Now, what can we possibly do to keep ourselves amused?”

Buffy raised her lowered eyes in time to see him push away from the door and move towards her -- so slowly, he seemed to drift. Shedding the jacket and cravat and opening the buttons on his shirt as he prowled, a teasing smirk played about his mouth.

“Erm, maybe the TV?  Or a game of some kind?  A drink?”

“Not right now…not exactly what I fancy, pet.  Although the drink wouldn’t go amiss…”  He dropped the shirt carelessly, as he drew closer, never moving his gaze from her face.

Buffy gulped, mouth dry, as she took in the marble perfection of his bare torso.  When Spike reached her, she stepped backwards against the huge bed that dominated the room.  Feeling the edge hit her thighs, she sat down heavily, her hands splayed either side of her hips.

“You want a drink?”

“Maybe.  What’s on offer?”

Buffy faltered, his ice-blue eyes causing her neurons to misfire.

Close now, he brushed against her trailing dress, nudging her thighs apart with his own then leant forwards on the bed so that she was caged within his embrace.

“I’m thinking you have exactly what I’m thirsty for, Miss Summers.”

“Oh sir, you mistake me…I’m a married woman.”

“Is that so?  I must congratulate your husband…he’s a very lucky man.”

Buffy gasped as Spike’s hand swept down from her cheekbone to trace softly across her breast, finally coming to rest on her hip.  God, she wanted him. 

“He’s all I ever wanted…and more.  You should meet him.”

“I’m sure I will.  In the meantime……….”

Bending swiftly to capture her mouth, Spike licked along her swollen lips and cradled her face in his hands as he ravaged her, nipping her and sucking her flesh into his mouth.  Buffy melted in his arms, giving herself over to the feelings his teeth and tongue aroused within her.  Her limbs were not her own to command as he left her lips and proceeded to nip at her neck with blunt human teeth. 

“Mmmm” Buffy moaned.  “Stop!  You shouldn’t do that……….”

“That right, pet?  How about this then……….”

Buffy gasped as he bent his head to bite down on her nipple through the bodice of her dress.  She looked down at his bleached hair as he lapped at her breast, biting at her through the gleaming silk.  As he released her nipple and rubbed his face against her chest, she glanced down at the damp patch ornamenting her dress and her pussy let out an answering flood of moisture.

“God, Spike……..”

Raising his eyes to meet her gaze he spoke in a voice laden with promise “God has NOTHING to do with it, my love.”

Buffy sank back against the bed, letting the feelings her new husband awoke in her surge through her and reduce her to a quivering wreck.  His arms closed in around her and raised her to a sitting position.  Gently, he removed the veil from the back of her head, kissing her eyelids and cheeks as he did so.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against her, reverently.

Buffy let out a strangled breath as he leant in again to kiss her, one hand still tangled in her hair, the other busy with the pearl buttons at the back of her dress.  Her hair, released from its bonds, tumbled around her shoulders.  Spike leant into her again and kissed the unmarked side of her neck, licking and nipping as he went.  Buffy moaned against him, grabbing him to her and bringing her hands up to grasp his head and clasp it against her.

Spike played with her hair, wrapping the golden strands around his fist as he inhaled her scent.  She was beyond perfection…and she was his, legally, all official.  They’d bent the bounds of morality on many an occasion, but this was different.  This was… completion.

The final button came undone and Buffy shrugged her shoulders so it slipped down her arms.  Spike leaned back from her to take in the view, groaning appreciatively at the little froth of lace that peeped out above the now loose bodice. 

“This looks interesting, pet.  Where does it finish?  Where’s the fastening?”

Buffy stood and the dress pooled at her feet, revealing to Spike’s heated gaze the strapless corset fastened down the front with hooks and eyes and laced up at the back with silken ribbons.  It pushed her breasts together so that they threatened to spill over the top, each breath sending tremors along the yielding flesh.  At the lower edge of the corset, suspenders held up pale stockings revealing a mere 12 inches or so of creamy thighs.  Finishing off the ensemble was a gossamer thong, tie sided with ribbons and so wispy and transparent that Spike could see every moist curl that lay behind it.

Leaning back on his elbows, he gave a low whistle of appreciation.  “Good enough to eat, luv.  C’mere – I’m peckish all of a sudden.”

Moving with rattlesnake speed Spike lunged and snagged her around the waist, pulling her to him to stand between his legs.  He ran his hands along her body, starting at her shoulders and dipping in to stroke down her side to her thighs.  Continuing the sweep of cool hands, he ran the tip of his tongue across his dry lips, looking at her flushed face and closed eyes.  The beat of the pulse at her throat called to him on a primal level, the demon and the man both wanting the same thing - to possess her utterly.

He gently pulled her to sit astride his lap, guiding her legs to wrap around his back and delighting in the aroma of her arousal as the heat of her burned through his pants to his groin.  She was panting gently as he licked up from the swell of her breasts whilst his hands busied themselves exploring the ties at the back of the corset.  He began to unlace it then stopped, changing his mind.

“No….. leave it on…….” he murmured against her neck pulling her tight to his chest with one arm and bringing the other hand round to caress her thigh, making small swirls on her skin and raising goosebumps along her flesh. 

Buffy’s eyes fluttered open, as she gasped his name “Spike!”

“Want something, pet?  Anything I can do for you…or to you…”

As he spoke, his cool breath whispering against her skin, he splayed one hand behind her back at the curve of her waist, delighting in the swell of her hips outlined by the corset.  The other hand continued its tortuous journey towards her moist panties, his fingers almost brushing her flesh but not quite making contact, avoiding her attempts to rub against his digits to ease the pressure building within her.

He liked this game, the whole seduction scene; it was a challenge to himself to see how long he could hold off throwing her on her back and fucking her senseless.  The painful straining of his cock as it tried to burst through the fabric of his trousers notched the game up another level.  He rose to his feet, Buffy’s legs still wrapped around his middle, her hands laced together in the back of his hair as she gripped it fiercely.  Moving with unnatural speed he slammed her up against the wall, one hand holding her in place against him and the other at the side of her face.  As she bucked against him, the sensitive head of his erect cock brushed against its fabric veil and he swallowed hard, closing his eyes and tipping his head back to regain control.  As he opened his eyes again, watching her above him, he was transported back to the first time they’d been together, remembered his shock as she reached down between their bodies and unzipped his pants then sank down on his erection.  Her eyes had been wide with lust and surprise, mirrors of his own.  As if reading his mind, Buffy shifted in his grasp and popped the top button of his trousers then tugged the zip down swiftly to release his erect length, the sound itself causing a shiver of anticipation to course through her body.

His tentative restraint gone, Spike grabbed at the wisp of lace covering her mound, ripping it from her curls to lie in tatters on the floor beneath them.  He couldn’t be without her heat any longer.  He brought both hands round to cup her firm behind, her upper body leaning against the wall as he prodded at her pussy with his swollen cock.  As the head dipped inside her folds, he gritted his teeth in an attempt to slow down…but he couldn’t, he wanted to be buried within her heat so badly.  With a guttural cry, he sank the entire length deep within her slickness, his balls banging against her ass as she gripped his shoulders and cried out his name.

Unable to stop himself, he pounded into her over and over, her grip on his shoulders becoming tighter with every thrust until he felt the trickle of blood down his back from where her fingernails had scored his flesh.  It was too much for his demon; it wanted to fuck her too.

Still thrusting into her pussy, he pushed away from the wall and turned walking the two steps to bring them back to the bed.  Buffy looked at the being she’d married, seeing the golden eyes and ridged forehead, the sharp fangs; it should disturb her…it didn’t.  Still locked together, they fell onto the bed, Buffy beneath him, her arms brought up to the side of her head and pinned in place by his hands covering hers.

Raising her head, she licked along his lips, dipping her tongue inside his mouth and swirling it around first one fang then the other.  Deliberately she rasped it across one sharp point drawing blood that pooled in its centre before slipping it back inside, wrapping it around his own tongue to coat it with the precious fluid.

Spike was going crazy, teetering on the edge of total bloodlust.  He’d never bitten her, had only ever tasted her blood once when he’d licked at the cut on her arm during his possession by the First Evil.  He didn’t want to ask and risk rejection and she hadn’t offered.  Hell, she brought him to life in other ways!  But this gift, given freely…it was driving his demon insane with want!

He broke the kiss, sucking at her tongue as he released it, savouring the taste of her blood as it slid down his throat.  He couldn’t help the growls that were erupting from his chest; right at that moment he was having a hard time forming thoughts.  He was acting on pure instinct.  And the instinct told him he had a mate, that the mate needed marking.

Buffy lay back on the bed, her hair snaked out around her face, covering their joined hands.  Her lips were parted, her breath coming in small pants and gasps, eyes bright and cheeks flushed.  She gazed at Spike poised above her, his hard shaft still gripped inside her by her fluttering muscles.  He was glorious, feral, lethal; his eyes were focused on her neck where her pulse beat strongly just below the skin, his pointed tongue flicking across his fangs like a snake’s.  She knew what he wanted and suddenly she wanted it too.

Wriggling her left hand free, she grabbed her hair and moved it out of the way, turning her head to the side to present the virgin smoothness of her neck to his amber eyes.  He didn’t move, paralysed in the passion of the moment.  Buffy turned back to him slightly, seeking his eyes with her own.

Softly at first but becoming a command, she spoke; “Bite me, Spike.  BITE. ME.”

All control gone, his head dipped swiftly to her neck, gripping her shoulders to keep her in place as he pierced the sensitive skin and drew in long draughts of slayer blood, washing it around his mouth to glory in the taste before swallowing it down.  He struggled to keep the pulls even and slow, the demon wanting to devour her entirely.  Buffy’s whimpers and keens of pleasure caused his cock to harden further and he started to move his hips in time to the pulling at her neck.  She wrapped her legs further around him, bucking up to meet his thrusts as the heady feeling of blood loss flooded her senses.  Spike’s tongue rasped across her skin, not allowing a single drop to escape, the coolness of its tip playing havoc with her already sensitised flesh.  As he moaned against her and suckled at her neck, she felt the tremors start within her womb, moving faster and bucking harder as she sought release.  Spike thrust back, his lips momentarily losing contact with his mark as she writhed beneath him, allowing a rivulet of crimson liquid to cascade from her neck to follow the valley of her cleavage before disappearing into the top of the corset.

It was more than he could take.  Licking up the path it had taken, he began pounding into her fiercely, latching back onto the wound and forcing himself to take smaller draughts so as not to damage her.  The feel of his tongue laving the exquisite pain of his bite again sent Buffy over the edge and she arched against him as her climax hit hard, gripping his cock inside her pussy with ripple after ripple of contractions, squeezing him almost painfully until he spilled jets of creamy semen deep inside her.

All strength gone, Spike collapsed on top of her panting body, instinctively moving to lick at his mark and seal it with his saliva.  As he did so, Buffy whimpered.

Afraid that he was hurting her, he raised himself to look at her face with concern.

“Sorry, luv.  I’m a bad man; shouldn’t have done that…. you’re hurt now….”

Giggling at him, she raised one hand shakily to caress his sculpted cheek.  “Silly vampire…. not hurt, just bloody well shagged out!  That was amazing!  How come you’ve held out on me with the biting?”

Spike stared at her in shock.  “You don’t mind… you liked it?  I thought you were moaning…”

“I was, but not in pain!  Gah!  You need to work on your body language, Spike.  That was the hottest thing ever.  And don’t even think we’re not doing that again!  Give me twenty minutes and a quick glass of champagne and we’re revisiting that little pleasure moment, oh God yes!”

He gathered her to him in a bone-crushing hug, taking her breath away with a long, deep kiss that she returned in equal measure.  As she squirmed to get comfortable in the constraining corset, Spike reached behind her and began to unlace it, never taking his gaze from her face.  Finally she was free of it and he bent to remove the stockings to leave her naked to his admiring gaze.  Feeling the twitch of his cock as it began to harden again against her thigh, Buffy chuckled.

“I think I’m going to like being married to a vampire.  Even though I’ll be constantly knackered.”

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