Chapter Text
Some of Xander's vow is from the episode "Into the Woods", and some of Spike's toast is from "Beneath Me". The song at the end is 'That Kind of Love' by Alison Krauss, and plays at the end of "Entropy".
Chapter 8: That Kind of Love
- - And that was the moment I knew - -
Xander and Spike stood on the right side of the minister, watching the flamboyantly green bridesmaids traversed the aisle, gowns rustling. Halfrek winked at Spike as she took her seat beside D'Hoffryn, but the vampire only had eyes for Buffy, who remained standing with Dawn and Tara while Willow joined the men.
The string quartet struck up the Wedding March, and all the guests – enmity forgotten – rose and faced the foot of the aisle. With the scratches to her arm concealed by a hastily-applied bandage, Anya stepped forward in a daze of joy and fulfillment, bouquet in hand. She met Xander at the front of the aisle and handed her bouquet off to Buffy, and as the music faded, the bride and groom stepped forward to the edge of the dais.
The ceremony was short – neither of the couple being religious – and when the minister asked for the rings, Willow placed the two gold bands into Xander's palm. Anya took Xander's hand, looked him straight in the eyes – her own moist with tears of happiness – and began her vows.
"I, Anya Christina Emmanuelle Jenkins, want to marry you, Xander, because I love you… and I'll always love you. Before I knew you, I was a completely different person, not even a person, really. And I'd 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 make me feel safe, and warm. So… I get it now. I finally get love, Xander. I really do. I love you."
There was not a single dry eye in the building. Even Spike cleared his throat gruffly and patted Xander on the back as the trembling carpenter accepted his ring. His voice scratchy and bashful, Xander began his own vows, completely winging it, abandoning his previous ideas and just speaking from his heart.
"I… Alexander Lavelle H-Harris… love you, Anya. I love you so much, more every day. I love the way you see things… and how amazingly sweet and crazy you can be at the same time. I promise to grow old with you… and love you every little moment I'm breathing… and share as many waffles as you could ever want. I'll win the Guinness World Record for Most Waffle-Sharing Husband. 'Cause I don't know what I'd do without you, Babe. I can't imagine my days without you, and I wouldn't want to. I just want to be your husband… and your partner, and your sex poodle."
Anya's teary eyes brightened. "Sex poodle?"
"Uh-huh," Xander replied, then looked nervously at the minister. "Sh-should I not have said 'sex poodle'?"
"It's perfectly alright," he reassured him. Relieved, Xander slipped his ring's counterpart onto Anya's slim finger, and the minister beamed at them. "With the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Xander, you may now kiss your bride."
Amidst the applause from the wedding attendees, he pulled Anya into his still slightly-damp arms and pressed his mouth to her coral-colored lips. Dawn cheered, Spike whooped, and Buffy choked back happy tears, trying to keep them from dripping into Anya's bouquet. To the celebratory music of the quartet, Xander and Anya swept back down the aisle and into the lobby of the Bison Lodge.
"My little Xander," a teary-eyed Willow whispered, linking her arm with Tara's. "Oh my gosh. He's married. He's actually married! He's a married man!"
The overjoyed witches glided down the aisle after the couple, and back at the dais Spike bowed dramatically and offered one leather-clad arm to Buffy and the other to Dawn, both of them accepting. Soon the bridesmaids, Spike, and the rest of the guests were congregated toward the back of the lobby, where the teenage bartender doubling as the DJ had filled several dozen glasses of bubbly.
"Ready for your speech, Wills?" Buffy smiled, reaching past Spike to take a champagne glass away from Dawn. Willow's eyes went wide.
"Oh. Speech. Me. As the best-est best man. Oh r-r-right."
A rosy tinge crept up her neck, stage-fright staking its claim.
"Willow?" Tara asked fearfully, holding tight to her arm as the redhead started to quake.
"Tummy butterflies," she grimaced.
"Need a spot of courage, pet?" grinned Spike, drawing his little flask of Bourbon from a pocket of his duster. "Or shall I take the mic first, warm up the crowd?"
"What would you say? You don't even like Xander?" snorted Dawn, trying and failing to sneak another glass of sparkling wine without Buffy noticing.
"Well, s'pose that's true. But chasin' him down helped me suss some things out, an' if it'll help Little Red Ridin' Hood here, I'll speak my piece. That be a'right with you, luv?"
He turned to Buffy, who glanced around at the milling crowd, the idleness taking its toll on the short-fused tempers of most of the guests.
"I guess so."
"Ta, pet. Be back in a mo'."
Slipping out from between the Summers girls and the witches, Spike swaggered over to the bar, picked up the microphone from where it'd been placed following the ceremony, and cleared his throat.
" 'Lo all. Got a few words to say before the best man gets the floor, but so I'll be quick about it so we can all knock back the hard stuff an' that fine cake I've been sniffin' out."
Charmer, Buffy snickered inside her head as the guests chuckled and seemed to relax, all eyes on Spike. It has to be the accent. Never knew he could be so winsome if he tried.
"Good of you all to show up, support Anya an' Harris. Could tell by lookin' at those two that they'd never be happy with another, so frankly, I'm surprised it took 'em this long to get hitched. Been moonin' over each other for a good two years, 'bout to make the rest of us nutty as fruitcakes."
More light laughs traced across the lobby, and Buffy glanced at the couple. Xander's arms were around Anya, her intricately curled hair resting on his chest, his feet seemingly drowning in the fluffs of tulle at the bottom of her dress.
"At any rate," continued Spike, the joviality in his tone replaced by a gentle earnestness, "seein' these lovebirds makes a bloke think… 'bout the girl he loves… 'bout what he'd do to make sure his endin' is as good as theirs. Ways he'd prove that he's… worth her trust… that he'd do anythin' for her… that walkin' away from her would be givin' up the greatest chance of love he's ever had. Lookin' at those two… gives a man hope that he could do what he mustn't. For her. To be hers."
His eyes found Buffy's and locked on, sweet but intense, determined, turning his words into a promise. He swallowed hard, and then blinked and peered around the crowd again, easing back on the tone of resolve he'd just been using. His words speeding up in what almost seems like embarrassment, he snagged a champagne glass from the bar countertop and lifted it.
"Point bein', they're lucky little buggers an' we're all jealous. To Anya an' Xander. Cheers, ducks."
Spike tipped back his glass and downed the champagne in one gulp, and Willow walked forward shakily and accepted the microphone. Oddly bashful now, the vampire shuffled back over to where Dawn, Tara, and Willow stood, his hands rifling through his pockets, eyes on the ground.
"Damn near lost my nerve. Gotta have a smoke left somewhere. Oh, bugger. They're all waterlogged…"
"Spike…"
Smiling, Buffy laid her fingertips on his arm, and the stress faded from his face, a hesitant grin replacing it.
"What you said… that was really beautiful."
"Meant every word of it," he whispered solemnly, lowering his voice as Willow launched into what appears to be, 'Xander's Adventures as a Young Sunnydalian'.
"S-so, let's all h-have some cake!" Willow stammered at last, the green luster of her dress seeming to slink up the sides of her neck and onto her cheeks. She sank down onto a stool and dropped the microphone onto the bartop with a screeeech of feedback, and Tara hurried forward to hug her, affectionate tears glittering in her eyes.
Taking his cue from Halfrek, Clem wheeled out the cake to thunderous applause. It was a chocoholic's dream come true, layer upon layer, a spire of icing drizzled in caramel and fudge. Soon guests were passing plates of the delicious confection around, no longer any antagonism between Xander's relatives and the demons here to celebrate with Anya. Even Mr. Harris was remaining civil enough to converse with Clem. Everyone laughed delightedly when Cousin Carol caught the bouquet and then the pimply demon Krevlin nabbed the garter, then the tables and folding chairs were cleared from the center of the room and the DJ began cycling through Anya's chosen music selections.
"I still think the burlap and blood larva would have been more flattering," giggled Willow, tipsy after a glass and a half of pink champagne, her nerves finally mollified.
"Baby, you look beautiful in green," Tara replied, slipping into the familiar term of endearment without realizing it.
Buffy contentedly sipped at her glass, watching Xander wheel Dawn around the dance floor as a lively song ended. A more mellow tune played through the sound speakers, and she felt rather than heard Spike moving softly to stand at her side.
– – Who would sell their soul for love?
Or waste one tear on compromise
Should be easy enough
To know a heartache in disguise – –
"Will you dance with me, pet?"
"Spike..." Her voice epitomized her mood, torn between longing and hesitation.
"Not gonna try anythin'. Just want a dance, is all."
– –But the heart rules the mind
And the going gets rough
Pride takes the fall
When you find that kind of love – –
"Alright," Buffy sighed, and his hand slipped up to lift hers from the countertop, drawing her away from the bar and onto the dance floor. Spike turned her to face him, their hands intertwining, his other resting tenderly at her waist, hers on his shoulder.
Nearby, Willow twirled Tara in a leisurely pirouette, Dawn attempted to teach Clem the basic swing dance steps, and Xander and Anya were enfolded in each other’s arms, so tightly that not even Slayer strength could pull them apart.
– – I can't help feeling like a fool
Since I lost that place inside – –
The strongest thought crossing Buffy's mind as she swayed slowly next to Spike was that this felt so vastly different from their moment on the balcony of the Bronze. There was no sense of foreboding, no fettered anger, no threats or shame or furtive quickie. He was making no attempt to draw her into the darkness; instead he was joining her in the light, openly.
– – Where my heart knew its way
And my soul was ever wise – –
"Are you really going to go try to get your soul back?" she whispered. They seemed to be drawing infinitesimally closer, her head drifting down onto his shoulder, her right hand gliding to the back of his neck, his fingers clasping together at the small of her back.
"If that's what you want," Spike murmured. "I'll leave at sunset, take my motorbike to the wharf, stowaway in a cargo hold, an' float off to Africa. Sure the demon networks there would help point me in the right direction, pro'ly laughin' at me all the while. Vampire lookin' for a soul."
– –Once innocence was lost
There was not faith enough
Still my heart held on
When it found that kind of love – –
"Maybe… you don't have to leave right away."
His eyebrow quirked. "You certain of that, luv? I would've thought you'd be rarin' to get me out'a town."
"Well, you… I can't believe I'm saying this, but you saved the day, bringing Xander back."
"You callin' me the hero, Buffy?" he said with a smirk. "Big Bad me?"
"I guess so. Ugh. It's gonna go to your head now, isn't it?"
He chuckled, drawing her slightly closer until she rested against his chest, slow dancing serenely. "Only a bit."
– – Though beauty is rare enough
Still we trust
Somehow we'll find it there
With no guarantee
It seems to me
At least it should be fair – –
"I'm not going to sleep with you tonight, Spike."
"And if you suggested it, I'd refuse," he replied. "Laugh if you want, but I've scrounged up some dignity, Slayer. Seen that spark in your eyes, that crumb, that maybe. Gonna let you suss things out before there's any more of the rough an' tumble. Won't have you walkin' all over me in the meanwhile."
"I didn't –" I did. I used him, his body and his heart, and refused to believe I could ever feel anything for him. Until I realized that, all along, he really wanted my love more than anything physical between us. Just wanted to be loved.
– – But if it's only tears and pain
Isn't it still worth the cost?
Like some sweet saving grace
Or a river we must cross – –
"Spike."
"Yes, luv?"
"There… there is a maybe. It just… might take me a while to find it, you know?"
Nodding, he sighed against her ear, a low, contented sound. "I can live with that, luv. It'll be worth it."
– –If we don't understand
What this life is made of
We learn the truth
When we find that kind of love – –
"Besides," he murmured, "when one of us does let the other back under the sheets, it'll be different… be love, not just bodies crashin', tryin' to find somethin' to feel. World of difference twixt the two, sweetheart. When you let me… I'm gonna worship you, whisper all those sweet nothin's you've been denyin' me…"
She archeed slightly as he pressed her closer, her eyes drifting shut, already imagining. Then Spike kissed the side of her neck, his voice a light tease.
"Maybe tomorrow night, eh?"
Rolling her eyes, Buffy smiled and leaned fully against him, head resting comfortably – perfectly – against his hard, cool shoulder, his arms wrapped around her waist in a tender embrace.
– – 'Cause when innocence is lost
There is not faith enough
We learn the truth
When we find that kind of love – –
The End.
Author's Note: Thank you again for joining me in this happily-ever-after re-write.