Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS. Any recognizable characters/locations etc. do not belong to me. Author's Note: I came up with this story a while ago. I'm currently on the prowl for a new beta because my previous has just had a baby. My best wishes to her! I'd really appreciate some feedback.
"Stupid, plastic piece of crap!" Cordelia muttered, fiddling with the disposable camera.
Willow, the "maid of horror" as she had been dubbed in her mind, had dubbed her "Camera Lady". Cordelia suspected it was an attempt to keep her out of the spotlight during Buffy's Bachelorette Bash. Unfortunately, despite being a total camera whore, Cordy hadn't a clue how to work the flash.
The bride-to-be was currently holding a pose, showing off her most recent gift from Tara, who was also in the wedding party. Buffy held the black lace negligee up against her and waited for the picture to be taken.
"Hurry up!" she said stiffly, her face sore from smiling so long.
"Buffy, it's not working," Cordelia huffed.
Buffy dropped her pose and the negligee, and headed across the room to her friend's aid. The women at the party were all laughing loudly, tipsy from the copious amounts of wine they'd consumed. Buffy could feel herself swaying slightly and placed a hand onto Cordy's shoulder to steady herself.
"This thing's defective!" Cordelia said in her whiny voice, ignoring the scoff that came from her right. "Do you have another camera? Maybe a simpler model?"
Buffy rolled her eyes and pointed down the hall. "There should be one in Spike's bedside table. Instant flash."
The buxom brunette headed down the hall, tossing the disposable camera into the half-full garbage bag, which Willow had carted out when presents started being opened. Cordelia's heels clicked against the hardwood flooring as she neared the boudoir. She came to the door and peeked inside, making sure that in her slightly inebriated state, she hadn't passed the right room.
She flipped the light switch and walked over to the nearest bedside table. She opened the drawer and rifled through the contents. After pushing the lubricant and condoms aside—Eww!—she found the digital camera. She pressed the button on top and the screen was immediately showing Cordy her own shoes. Not wanting to dwell on why the camera was kept with their naughty-fun-time stuff, Cordelia went to shut the drawer when something caught her eye. Her rummaging had uncovered a small three-ringed notebook.
Cordelia wouldn't deny it—she was a snoop. Her curiosity was just too great to ignore, and so she picked up the notebook and quickly flipped through the first couple pages. The script was by Spike's hand, and, from what she could tell, he had been writing his wedding vows.
Not bothering to close the drawer or even turn off the light, Cordelia hurried back into the living room, where Buffy was sitting back on the couch opening her newest present.
"You're gonna need to keep your new hubby in line, B.'" Buffy read aloud from the card. "'Love, Faith.'"
Buffy smiled hesitantly and opened the box. She blushed profusely as she held up the leather paddle to show everyone else. The surrounding women shrieked, thinking it hilarious, and Buffy's embarrassment grew. She handed her gift off to Willow and took a generous sip from her wine glass.
"Attention!" Cordelia yelled over the giggling guests. "I hold in my hand the best gift by far! It's something I know our girl has been dying to get her hands on."
The room quieted, and Buffy quirked her head in curiosity, much like her fiancé would.
Cordelia squeezed in between Buffy and Willow on couch before continuing. "Ladies, I am holding Spike's wedding vows."
Buffy's eyes went wide, and Willow gasped in excitement.
Everyone eagerly shuffled closer. Buffy undeniably wanted to read what Spike had written, but couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that she shouldn't. Biting her lip nervously, she took the notebook from Cordy. Would Spike want her to read it, especially in front of all her girlfriends? "I don't know if I can."
Cordelia groaned beside her.
"It's private," Buffy said in protest.
"How is it private?" Willow asked. "He's going to read these in front of everyone at the wedding."
Buffy nodded but still wasn't sure. "Okay, so they're not private. But it's supposed to be a surprise."
Cordelia opened the notebook to the first page.
"It doesn't even look like his final draft," she said. "Look, half the page is crossed out. There's no harm in checking out the rough draft, right? The surprise would still be intact."
That settled Buffy's inner debate. She would read the rough draft; surely Spike wouldn't care about that. He didn't even have to find out. What happened at a bachelorette party would stay within the party—wouldn't it? She opened the book and silently skimmed through the first couple pages.
"You're going to leave us in the dark?" Anya's demand came from behind Buffy.
"It's all over the place," the bride said. "I'll read it out loud when I can make sense of it."
Truthfully, Buffy didn't really want to share. She wanted to read Spike's vows and enjoy them all to herself. She wanted this to remain private, to be something only she and Spike knew. However, with friends like Anya and Cordelia present, she knew she wouldn't get away with it.
Spike's words were nonsensical and scribed messily. There were random, disjointed thoughts all over the page, no two of them coming together. Buffy was a little confused over why Spike seemed to have had such a hard time with this. He was the poet, his words beautifully spouting forth. Shouldn't he have had an easy-peasy time with it? The sentences were all lovely, but just didn't flow together into a speech. He couldn't seem to make up his mind about what he wanted to get across.
"Get to the good stuff," Anya instructed, reaching over Buffy's shoulder and flipping the page.
Gone were the scratched-out sentences and the unfinished thoughts. On the next page was a list with Buffy's name written at the top. As Buffy went through the list, any semblance of a smile that she'd had slipped away. Willow, seeing her best friend's face, pulled the notebook away from her and looked at it.
Buffy stood, teetering slightly, and seemed to be debating what to do next. Her lips were pursed, and her eyes were welling up with angry tears. Having read the notebook herself, Willow put it down and took Buffy's hand instead. Meanwhile, Anya scrambled to get a hold of the notebook, too.
"I know you're upset but..." Willow couldn't seem to finish her thought.
Buffy stalked over to the kitchen table to get her jacket, which she'd draped over a chair. She pulled it on and stomped back over to the couch, where Anya and Tara were poring over the notebook. She reached down, tore out the upsetting page, balled it up, and stuffed it into her pocket. Without another word, she marched out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.
Willow stood frozen on the spot, unsure of what to do. A moment later, she was also running out the door, panicked and shouting, "Buffy, give me your keys! You can't drive like this."
The guests, all scattered about the room, watched them go. They sensed the party was now over and quietly started filing out of the apartment. Cordelia stayed put, her face a mask of confusion. Anya sat down on the couch with her wine, put her feet up, and watched Tara start to clean up.
"I hope she gets back soon," Anya said. "The stripper is already on his way here."
Constructive criticism is like candy to me. Give me a cavity!