A/N: All give praise to my computer guy. He really does work miracles! Ok, promised wouldn't say anything but quickly: some complaining that I'm not all too friendly to Buffy, and I must be honest, she's not my favourite Scooby. I love Spike's character, and I LOVE the ship, but Buffy pisses me off, so sorry if I'm not all too kind. (I will be though, just needed to vent) Also, big reminder: Arabella saw everything from Spike's point of view and with his feelings. How would you react?
P.S. Thanks for all the reviews!!!
P.P.S. I wrote a really short story that I posted called His Choice, and I'm completely convinced no one read it. Anyways, I'm really proud of it, and it will take five minutes to read so please go check it out. (I promise you'll like it). Sorry, can't help but shamelessly promote myself once in a while.
Chapter 9 (part two) – The Wedding (Flowers, Memories, and Dancing)
Spike walked away from Arabella, who was busy discussing the pros and cons of the different China patterns with a sales lady. When they had first come in, the woman had instantly been at their side, recognizing Arabella's labels for what they met: money. Arabella had somehow convinced him to help her gift shop for Xander and Anya. She was convinced that he would know what was best for the pair. Spike couldn't help but snicker at the thought. He had spent the last hour biting his tongue against suggesting things he knew they would hate. The only thing that stopped him from doing just that was the excited look in Arabella's eyes. She was genuinely happy for Anya and wanted to see her have her perfect day. Spike hadn't seen that expression in the eyes of any woman that he cared about in a long time, and he didn't want to be the cause of Arabella losing that look. And so her he was, wandering through a shop he would normally never be caught dead in, wondering around, browsing.
As Spike walked past one of the displays, he paused. There was something about the little objects on it that caught his eye. Picking up one of the small porcelain flowers, he studied it carefully. At first he couldn't recall the significance of the tiny object, but as he looked at the purple flower he held in his hand more closely, a single word popped into his head and he felt as if his entire body was flooded with emotion. Mum.
Suddenly a million memories hit Spike. He saw his mother smiling as she picked him up as a little boy. Telling him stories late at night. Scolding him for stealing a biscuit from the kitchen. He could remember every word she said when she sat him down the day he finished his studies at Cambridge and told him the list of ladies he should consider courting. The serious expression she wore when she discussed social matters had always made him smile, and he couldn't help but wear a small smile as he thought about the endless number of discussions he had had with his mother on his return to London from university.
Spike closed his eyes and could see his mother hunched over one of the many small porcelain figurines she loved to paint, her spectacles resting delicately on her nose, the same expression she wore when discussing society on her face as she painted intricate patterns. One of her favourite objects to paint had been flowers. He opened his eyes and looked down at the purple petals. The flower in his palm was just like the last one he had seen her painting, the night of the party. The night he met Dru. Spike slammed the flower onto the table in front of him and ran his hands through his hair.
He remembered the last time he saw his mother like it was yesterday, even though it had been 122 years. Two weeks after he rose, Angelus had said he had wanted to do something special to welcome him into the family. They had been sticking to the east end of London, avoiding the upper classes even though it was the Season and Darla loved to attend the lavish parties held every evening. As Angelus guided his 'family' through the more lavish town homes familiar to Spike as a mortal, Darla on his arm, he wore a grin that Spike found a little too evil, even his demon shrinking away from the expression. Drusilla walked happily beside Spike, humming a song while playing with Miss Edith. Spike was in his own world, taking in the new noises and smells that he sensed in the familiar surroundings. He was in love with the power his demon gave him, and the difference it made in the world. He only realised how familiar the street they were on was when they stopped outside the home he had been raised in.
"How did you find my home?"
"Now Will, my boy, it was quite easy to find your home knowing your full name. How many William Arthur Corbett's are there that have deaths that make the society pages? The column said your fiancée Cecily was so distraught she had declined party invitations for three days. Rather impressive, especially since Dru said she had rejected you flat out."
"Daddy's got a special gift for my William doesn't he?"
"I prefer to think of it as an initiation."
Spike felt sick at the memory. He had thought about that night a few times in the past century, and it had never made him feel like this. The feeling in the bottom of his stomach was foreign, thinking about his actions that night made him feel so wrong. Spike picked up another flower and tried to focus on his happier memories of his mother. He could see her laughing in the sunlight at their country manor, the sun reflecting off her hair. Thoughts of the sun instantly led to thoughts of Buffy. To him, Buffy was sunlight, his sunlight. He fiddled with the flower in his hand and studied it carefully, thinking about how much Buffy would like it.
Just as his thoughts of Buffy began to become more painful, Spike felt the tingling up his spine that only meant one thing: she was near. Focusing, he could hear her heartbeat and shallow breathing getting closer every second. When he was sure she was behind him, he looked up from the flower in his hand and calmly faced her, determined to keep a cool façade.
"Hello, luv. Here to accuse me a stalking you again?"
"Shut it, Spike." Spike smirked, trying to hide the relief he felt at Buffy's tone. He could deal with this Buffy right now. Instead of speaking, Spike raised his eyebrows, waiting for her usual accusation or insult. "What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here?" Spike couldn't help but repeat the question. Falling into their old banter had a calming effect on Spike; it was something they did so rarely since they had started sleeping together.
"Hopefully I'll be staking a bottle-blonde while squeezing in a bit of pre-nuptial gift shopping."
"Well, there's your answer for me as well. Now if you'll excuse me, I wouldn't mind getting back to it." Spike went to walk past her, but was stopped by a firm grip on his shoulder.
"You really think I'm going to believe that?" As soon as Spike felt Buffy's hand on his shoulder, it was as if every part of his body was on fire. Buffy withdrew her hand quickly, but the feel of her touch lingered. Spike had to battle with his body to not reach out and grab her. His whole body screamed for more contact. Spike tried to ignore his instincts and continue with the conversation. He was annoyed with her assumption that he was in the shop to pocket something, although the idea of doing just that was now playing across his mind.
"All right, you caught me. I thought I'd make my new home a bit more sensitive, and I was just picking this up to put beside my bed," Spike waved the object in his hand in front of Buffy's face. Buffy snatched it from his hand and studied the small object intently. Part of him wanted to hide the piece of his past from her, but most of him wanted to see what her reaction would be. The smile that covered her face as she examined the small object made Spike draw in a silent breath, even though he didn't need to breath. She really is the sunlight, was one of the many thoughts that crossed his mind as he watched her.
"Where'd you get this? Are there more?"
Spike looked at her confused. He soon realized that her smile wasn't as much out of appreciation of the object as it was for its gift possibilities. He quickly gestured to the table beside them and watched as Buffy examined the small flowers. When he saw her look at the list and then swear under her breath, the look of confusion he previously wore covered his face again.
"What's wrong pet?"
"Oh, Anya doesn't want just one, she wants an entire set. A set is completely out of my price range, just like everything else in this stupid shop."
"It is a rather posh place, isn't it?" Spike was casually leaning beside her and gestured towards the list. He was surprised when Buffy handed it to him without protest. As he read the list, he couldn't help but let out a snort. Sometimes he really wondered if Anya had been made human or if she had just lost her powers. He couldn't comprehend how anyone could be as selfish and ignorant to the world people lived in.
For the second time that evening, Spike was shocked at his own thoughts. When did I start giving a toss about others? I'm turning into the bloody poof. He then looked up at Buffy and didn't care if he was. The stressed and tired look on her face made all his thoughts turn to how he could help her. He thought for a moment, before finally giving a suggestion his mother would have given. "Why don't you give them one every year."
"Huh?" Buffy looked at him in confusion and Spike had to hold back a rolling of his eyes. He loved Buffy more than anything, but sometimes he really wished she were a bit quicker on the uptake.
"Well, my mum – I mean, why don't you give them one now and then give them one every year as an anniversary gift. You can probably find these things at loads of stores. Plus, the demon and whelp will love something as saccharine as that."
Spike waited as she examined the gift, then examined him. It looked she was having an internal battle with herself over the suggestion. He knew that it was because the idea was coming from him and it hurt to think that things were so bad between them that she couldn't even take his advice on something as superficial as a wedding gift. It hurt more to know that he completely deserved this reaction. He knew that he had a tendency to use anything and everything to hold onto what little he had of Buffy, but he couldn't help it. The idea of losing the few pieces he had of her always sent him into a blind panic. Actually having lost her had not made matters any better.
"I think I might do that. Um, it's a good idea Spike." Spike was taken aback by the intensity of her gaze on him. Her eyes were a mixture of relief, gratefulness, fear, and that distinctive Slayer-quality that no one else's eyes seemed to ever possess.
"No problem, pet. It would be worse to have to deal with Anya bitching for the next year that she didn't like every one of her gifts." Spike fiddled with the purple flower that he had initially picked up. He looked up at Buffy and was about to suggest she give it to Xander and Anya as the first one when he heard a familiar voice.
"Will! There you are. I wanted to know what you think about these dish sets. You probably know Anyanka's human tastes better than I do." Arabella came up to the pair from behind Buffy. When she saw whom Spike was with, her face became completely expressionless. "Buffy." She gave the Slayer a quick nod and grabbed Spike's hand. "Hurry up, the store will be closing soon." She dragged him away without glancing at Buffy again.
As Arabella dragged Spike towards the other side of the store he couldn't help but look over his shoulder for one last look at his Slayer. She was sorting through the many flowers, back turned to him. Arabella's asking him about what China pattern he thought Anya would prefer brought him out of his trance and back to reality. He realized he still had the purple flower in his hand, and he slipped it into one of the deep pockets of his duster. Spike grunted out a reply, and pointed at one of the dish sets. He chose one that he knew Anya would love, but the whelp would hate. He couldn't help himself. After making the purchase, the pair strolled out of the mall and started walking towards Spike's old crypt.
When they arrived, Arabella looked around in disgust. "So you're just going to stay here? I remember seeing images of it before, it really did look like a flat before. How on earth could you go back to sleeping on a concrete slab?"
"I'm a vampire lamb, don't need comfort." Spike sat down on said concrete slab and lit a cigarette.
"Rot." Spike couldn't help at smile at her tone. Sometimes he forgot how bossy she could be. It was different than Buffy's bossiness though – it was upper class English bossiness where an order was said as if they were a fact that had always been known by all involved. Things were never a request with Arabella, but an expectation you had no choice but to comply to.
"Rot, lamb?" Of course, Spike could always have fun trying not to comply.
Arabella just raised her eyebrows and continued. "Vampires like comfort. And I know from previous experience that you are not the exception." Spike opened his mouth to retort but before he could, she continued. "And before you try to object, let me remind you – I was in your head. I saw your crypt before it was destroyed and it resembled a flat more than a crypt. Don't bother trying to argue William."
"So what, you want me to move into a flat?"
"It's a start. Or maybe you could purchase a nice little house."
"You're forgetting that need money for that."
Arabella furrowed her eyebrows and turned to face Spike, a look of confusion covering her face. "What are you going on about? You have money, quite a bit of it actually. Remember all those lovely bank accounts I've helped you set up over the past century or so? It's impossible that you've spent all that money."
Spike just laughed bitterly and lit another cigarette. He stood up and walked over to his fridge, taking out a jar of pig's blood. He took a sip from the jar and began speaking in the proper accent he had abandoned over a century ago, "Your forgetting, Lady Montgomery, that until recently I was involved with a certain vampiress who was not quite right in the head. And, upon termination of said relationship, my fondness for said vampiress was still very much intact. As a show of this fondness, I signed all accounts over to the vampiress to ensure her well-being, and ensuring myself to at least one decade of living in squander." Saying that, he walked over to the television and picked up the bottle of Jack Daniels sitting beside it. He poured a healthy amount into the blood and walked over to Arabella, who now sat on the coffin he had recently been using as his bed, and gave her the remainder of the bottle.
"You really have gotten thick, haven't you?" Spike replied with a salute of his jar, before downing the contents in one long chug.
*****
Over the next few days, Spike avoided the Scoobies at all costs. He knew that Anya would ensure that everything anyone did would involve the upcoming wedding, and he wanted nothing to do with it. The concept of someone actually willingly tying herself to the whelp permanently sent shivers down his spine, even if it was someone like Anya. Her lack of tact astounded him, and the only thing that convinced him to go to the wedding was to see what statements would pop out of her mouth during the ceremony.
Arabella had been spending more and more time with him and they had quickly fallen back into the pattern they had when she had been recording Angelus and the subsequent friendship that had led to. Somehow, she had even convinced him to move into a proper home, although money was still an issue. When he raised the subject to Ari again, she had smiled softly and said to be patient. The response had just confused and irritated him, and he decided there was no point in trying to get her to explain herself.
The only difficulty the two friends found was when the subject of a certain Slayer was raised. Arabella was constantly on his case about how he shouldn't waste his time, but Spike couldn't help but miss her. Even when he had been exiled from her home and had been threatened with staking if he bothered her, he had seen her more than at the present time. Since their meeting at the gift shop, Spike had made a conscious effort to avoid her. Although every part of his being told him to seek her out, he didn't allow himself to. He sensed her at least three times outside his crypt every evening, but he never went after her. He knew that if anything were to ever happen between them again, she would have to initiate it. She would have to come to him. He wouldn't go crawling to her. Of all things Arabella had said about the relationship, the only thing he agreed with was that if anything was to ever to work out between them, he would need to feel proud of himself, and not allow himself to bend to the Slayer's every demand. Of course, Arabella had said the relationship would never work because he was Buffy's whipping boy and that he needed to regain his personal pride, but Spike felt that his artistic interpretation was permitted. So his new rule was no crawling. Unfortunately, every night following his rule was becoming more and more difficult. He was beginning to think he'd have more success at quitting smoking.
*****
Spike looked up with a start when the music began. He had been half asleep waiting for the wedding to begin. He looked up to the front and smirked, seeing a very pale Xander looking apprehensively down the aisle. Suddenly he felt all his senses tingle, and turned around in anticipation of seeing his Slayer walking down the aisle. He had to suppress a full out laugh when he saw what she and the other female Scoobies were wearing. He had thought the green dress Red had on had just been a reappearance of the bad taste she had when he first met her, but seeing Buffy in the same green atrocity made his realize it was probably Anya's way of ensuring that no one looked better than her at her wedding.
As Buffy got closer, he sucked in unneeded air. Even wearing something as ugly as what she was in, he still found her more beautiful than anyone or anything he had seen before. Her large smile as Anya began down the aisle made him feel like his heart would explode. He hadn't seen her look happy in so long, and it was nice to finally see that light in her eyes again.
As the minister began to speak, Spike couldn't help but zone out and his thoughts drift to his present discomfort. Arabella had threatened castration via holy water if he didn't wear the suit she had bought him. All she had said in response to his whining once she had gotten him in the outfit was that he should be relieved that she had chosen a black shirt and tie to go along with the dark grey suit. As he began to fidget, he felt eyes on him and looked up to see Buffy staring at him with a look of shock. He instantly felt uncomfortable in the unfamiliar material and his hand went up to play with the piece of cloth around his neck. Just as he was about to loosen the knot, there was a hard jab in his side. He looked over to the redhead beside him to see her raising his eyebrows and tilting her head slightly to the front. Rolling his eyes, he looked forward to see Anya beginning her vows.
"I, Anya, promise to love you, to cherish you, and to honour you. I entrust you with my heart. Take care of my heart, won't you please? Take care of it because, it's all I have. And, if you let me, I'll take care of your heart too. I'll protect it and tend to it. I pledge to be your friend, and your wife, and your confidant, and your lover."
Spike's eyes drifted over to look at Buffy. She seemed to be deep in thought about something as she listened to Anya's words. He was sure she was thinking about his grandsire. The only thing that bothered him more than her insistence that she felt nothing for him was her obsession with Angel. It frustrated him so much that she had put Angel on such a high pedestal. He wanted nothing more than to tell her what Dru had told him when she had visited and the news that had been coming out of LA about the miracle child and who its mother was. He knew it would destroy Buffy though, so he bit his tongue whenever he got the urge to tell just how important he felt a soul was.
"I want to you marry you, Xander, because I love you and I'll always love you. And before I knew you, I was like a completely different person. Not even a person really… And I had seen what love could do to people, and it was hurt and sadness. Alone was better. And then, suddenly, there was you, and… you knew me. You saw me. So I get it now. I finally get love, Xander. I really do. And for me, love's you."
As Anya said the words, Spike was suddenly struck by the beautiful green of Buffy's eyes staring into his own. She had a look on her face that he had never seen, and for the first time he had absolutely no idea what she was thinking. As he listened to what Anya was saying, he felt as if he was hearing his dream. To hear Buffy say those words to him is all he had wanted for well over a year.
"So, I, Anya, give you my heart."
As they continued to stare into one another's eyes, the thought that maybe she was finally getting it crossed his mind, but he told himself not to dare get his hopes up. There were things he had to do at this reception, and until they were done there was no point in even trying to speak to her.
*****
Spike sat listening solemnly to the words D'Hoffryn spoke. He had decided to call in a few favours that the powerful demon owed him, but he was getting nowhere.
"Spike, I'm sorry, but I cannot do what you ask. It's not in my power to do something like that."
"Oh, come on Hof. We both know it's more than in your power. And you bloody well owe me, a lot. I'm the sole reason you have one of your favourite demons."
"I'm very aware of that fact, but I can't do this." Spike opened his mouth to retort, but D'Hoffryn motioned with his hand for him to be silent. He knew that it was not a smart move to disrespect D'Hoffryn, no matter what you had done for him or what he owed you. So Spike fought his natural instinct to make a sarcastic reply, and waited patiently for the demon to continue. After a few moments of thought, D'Hoffryn looked up and continued. "Now, I should probably not say this, but I feel you should know something. It's not that I'm not capable of doing what you ask, but I cannot do what you ask."
"Making no sense here mate."
"Listen to me carefully William. Things are in play, big things. You're involved, everything is involved. What you ask would alter events gravely, and I will not be at fault for doing that."
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" D'Hoffryn's words had sent shivers down his spine. The serious expression on his face and the tone of his voice were not unfamiliar to Spike, but there was something in his eyes that told him this was big. Maybe even bigger than Glory. He needed to find out what D'Hoffryn knew.
"All I can tell you is that this goes straight to the top, the only reason I have any clue to what's happening is the fact that I would be here and the Powers had an inkling that you might approach me."
"Hof, tell me what you know. You at least owe me that."
Just as D'Hoffryn was about to reply, Arabella appeared. D'Hoffryn smiled at the higher being and nodded his head.
"Hello Hoffie. How are you?"
"Quite well. Is Henry here?"
"No, he's actually going to be in LA next week. The shit's hit the fan on one of his projects. I'll pass on a message to contact you, if you'd like. I'm sure he'd love to see you."
"That would be wonderful." He gave her another nod, and she smiled largely in return. Moving over to Spike, she grabbed his hand and dragged him out of his chair.
"If you don't mind, I'm going to borrow Mr. Bloody here for a dance or two." Before D'Hoffryn could respond, Arabella was dragging the vampire onto the dance floor, shouting a thanks over her shoulder.
The song being played by the dance was an old jazz song, and the couple instantly fell into the older style of dancing they both knew well. They weren't swing dancing, but there was a healthy amount of spins and twirls thrown into the dance as they laughed and smiled. Out of the corner of his eye, Spike could see Buffy on the side of the dance floor watching them. He wanted nothing more than to go over to her, but he wasn't near done the things he had planned on doing that evening. Just as he saw her storm out of the hall, the music changed to a slow waltz. Arabella was instantly in his arms, an evil smile on her face.
"I do believe your brooding, Mr. Bloody."
Spike snarled in response, before he let a grin cover his face, "Just thinking hard lamb. So how are the girls?"
"Quite well, except Anya invited that horrible vengeance demon Halfrek. I don't know what it is about her, but there's something off there. Do you know her? She's been staring at you all night."
"Might have met her some time or another. Can't really say."
"Ah well, I suppose it really isn't all that important."
Spike barely responded. He had noticed Dawn storming into the hall from one of the large balconies lining the outside. She had gone over to a young demon, and was now laughing at something he said. Spike noticed the boy pass her a drink and let out a low growl, causing Arabella to stop dancing.
"William, what's wrong?"
"I think I need to go talk to the Bit." He had completely let go of Ari and was stalking towards the area where Dawn and the demon were situated.
"That's fine. I need to speak to someone myself." As Arabella said the words to her now missing dance partner, she scanned the room. A small smile came across her face, and she picked up two glasses of wine as she headed in the opposite direction Spike was walking in.
Spike reached Dawn, just as she was about to head onto the dance floor. He grabbed her arm, and ignored the small warning his chip gave him as he dragged her towards the centre of the floor. Before she could protest, he was leading her in a waltz, ensuring that she could not escape from his grasp.
"I need to talk to you, Nibblet, and I doubt your going to like what I have to say."
*****
Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter: two conversations that will lead to a lot of changes. Also, do you have any idea what Spike was asking D'Hoffryn for? (Hint: not a soul or money. Sorry, I'm not that obvious.) Anyways, please review, and I'll post the next chapter as soon as I can.