Chapter 11
Eyes began to brim with tears as the organ player began the first few bars of the wedding march. The few people present in the church rose to their feet in anticipation…
“That rat bastard!”
Cordelia stalked purposely down the isle, glaring at the elderly organ player, a motion for her to stop the song immediately. Mrs. Chase dabbed away the few tears at her eyes, it’s just the rehearsal dinner and she was already crying, and quickly came to the aid of her daughter.
“Where is he?!” Cordelia roared. “How could Angel be late for the rehearsal?! This is his wedding too!” Mrs. Chase pulled her sobbing daughter into her arms, running a soothing hand up and down her back.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. He’ll be here, you know how men are with these sorts of things. Shhh…”
“I’m starting to think he doesn’t want to get married.” She cried into her mother’s shoulder.
“Of course he wants to get married, Cordy don’t be ridiculous!” Now, go back and take your place, and we’ll run through this okay. Rosalita, can you get back in the groom’s place please!”
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Angel darted around the room lighting every last candle, smiling to himself. This was going to be perfect, romantic atmosphere, chilled champagne, soft, sappy music from the part of his CD collection he liked to keep hidden, and best of all no Cordelia.
After spending the entire morning with her, missing his breakfast with Buffy, he had managed to dodge her with lame excuses of being in pain. He had to promise that he wouldn’t be late to somewhere or other, he wasn’t paying attention, but it got her out of his hair and bought him enough time to set up everything before Buffy arrived.
He stood back, admiring his handy work. “Perfect.”
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“You want me to what?” Buffy raised an eyebrow at Spike as she bit into her soggy Big Mac, cursing silently as a mountain of lettuce tumbled out of the back of it.
“I want you to come to New York with me.” Spike said, reaching across the table to grab a few or her fries, dodging Buffy’s swatting hand.
“I don’t think I’d be very good for business…”
“‘S not business.” He said, stuffing his mouth. “I want to go to Ithaca, spend some time with the cows and the Amish.” He smiled, reaching for another fry. “I need someone to show me the sights and sounds. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“What brought on this sudden need to pack up your bags?”
Spike shrugged. “Will you go?”
“Sure.” She smiled. “As long as you keep your paws off my fries.”
Spike flashed her his trademark grin as his sticky fingers made another grab at her food, Buffy’s hand quickly shot out to swat them away.
Her smile suddenly faded, great, she had completely forgot. “Oh crap!”
“What?”
“I’m supposed to have dinner with Angel tonight.”
Spike had to fight to keep his eyes from rolling up into the top of his head. “What happened to breakfast?”
“He had to cancel.”
“You made a dinner date with Peaches, and yet you had me drive your oh-so-starving self to McDonalds for a nutritious meal?”
Buffy shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “I forgot. Be a sweetheart and give me a lift to your dad’s, come on Spikey, I’ll love you forever.”
Spike rolled his eyes at her, shaking his head. Sometimes he wondered why he put up with this girl. “Get your skinny arse up and lets go, and don’t call me Spikey.”
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“And do you Liam, take Cordelia to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, for as long as you both shall live?”
Soulful brown eyes locked with her own as the strong hands tightened their grip.
“I do.” Rosalita smiled, sniffing back tears. Cordelia sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. “Oh, for God sake…” She mumbled bitterly.
Rosalita slid the ring on Cordy’s finger, then turned to face the Priest.
“By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Cordelia’s eyes once again rolled at the startlingly loving look Rosalita was giving her. Slightly panicking, she thrust her hand into the other woman’s giving her a good hearty handshake.
Angel is a dead man walking…
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There was something wrong, horribly wrong.
Here she was in the most romantic setting with the man she’s dreamed about since she was a child, candles and champagne, and now dancing, unbelievably slow dancing, so why wasn’t she absolutely giddy over this?!
Angel smiled lovingly at her, dipping his head to capture her lips. Buffy always expected fire works the day Angel would kiss her like this, hell fireworks went off all over the place the day he kissed her by the oak tree, but now…
She parted her lips, allowing his tongue to slip inside, maybe this would make it better…
Nope, nothing.
What the hell is wrong with her?! This is Angel Giles, man of her bloody dreams here…
Bloody ? She smiled into the kiss as she thought about her inner usage of Spike’s favorite word. Leave it to him to influence her vocabulary…
Buffy broke the kiss suddenly as the realization hit her full on like a Mac truck. Angel looked like a deer in headlights, what had gone wrong, why did she stop? Why the hell did she stop?!
“Something wrong?” He asked. Buffy drew her lips in, stepping away from him.
“I’ve gotta go.”
“Okay.” Angel nodded solemnly. “I’ll walk you home…”
“No, no, it’s fine.” She smiled. “I had a good time tonight.” Buffy said making her way to the door. God, she really hoped Tammy was still home, she needed a ride across town and she wasn’t heartless enough to ask Angel to take her to Spike’s apartment…
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Spike hung up the phone, sighing loudly as he opened the top drawer of his desk, fishing out his cigarettes, trying his best to ignore the look he was getting from Giles.
“What dad?”
“Do you really think now is the best time to take a vacation, Will? I mean, you do have important business here to take care of…”
“The plane ticket isn’t for me dad.” He sighed heavily, lighting his cigarette. “It’s for Buffy.”
“Buffy?”
“Yeah, you know, your liability?” Spike snickered bitterly. “I got her to agree to go to back to New York…”
“That’s good, Will, but you can’t go with her, you’ve got a job to do…”
“Bloody hell.” Spike grumbled, this was hard enough and Giles was only making it worse. “I’m not going with her, dad. She only thinks I am.”