Chapter 2. (Where There’s a Will), There’s a Wedding
Spike had to hand it to his stepmother, she managed to surprise him even from her grave… and knowing her as well as he did, he had little—if any—doubts the surprises would just keep coming.
Sure, he hadn’t been expecting this exactly, as his initial reaction attested to, but he was far from being bothered by it. It was the chance he’d been waiting for, for nearly ten years. The chance he’d been waiting for ever since he realized that his feelings for Buffy ran deeper than he had imagined. Wasn’t it just his luck he’d come to this realization only after he’d rejected her in the worst of ways, hurting her to the point of turning any love she’d felt for him into hate?
He’d been a bloody pillock back then and he knew he deserved her hate, no two ways about it. However, because of Jenny’s will, he now held an opportunity in his hands to right all the sodding wrongs he’d made… and by God he was taking it!
Buffy had loved him once and he would make her love him again, no matter the price, no matter what he had to do.
She felt something for him, of this he was sure. Yeah, mate, she hates your bleeding guts, a little voice inside him taunted, and he scowled, not too happy to admit there was a lot of that, although there was undeniable passion underlying all that hatred as well. Passion which, until today, only came forth in the cutting remarks they exchanged almost every time their paths crossed in the last few years.
That was his fault, too, he admitted.
Since that night in which everything had gone to hell, Buffy had done her best to avoid him. The few times they’d met during a visit to the island only happened because Jenny neglected to inform her he would be there as well, or because he came and surprised them both. Even then, she would ignore him, spending as little time around him as she could without offending her aunt in the process.
Given that he couldn’t get her to talk to him, he’d resorted to provoking her, goading her into reacting to him in any way he could, even if only in anger. He’d grown addicted to seeing those gorgeous green eyes of hers blazing with fury. He didn’t care that her animosity was directed at him, as long as she wasn’t acting as if he didn’t exist.
Juvenile? Most assuredly. Not that he cared about that, either.
What he cared about was that she’d kissed him back. That even when she claimed to hate him with the fire of a thousand suns, she’d responded to his advances, had been as lost in their kisses as he’d been. If only Rupert hadn’t interrupted them when he did…
It didn’t matter, though, not right now. He’d have plenty of opportunities after they married, and if not, he would create them. He was a resourceful bloke, if nothing else.
The lawyer hadn’t given them all that many details aside from the time and place where the wedding would take place, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make his own plans to whisk his bride away on an impromptu honeymoon trip after it was all done.
Stubborn chit that she was, she’d more than likely protest and give him quite the fight, but he was prepared to do whatever was necessary.
He would stop at nothing until he wore down her defenses, until he tore down the bloody wall she’d erected between the two of them, until he managed to make her fall in love with him… all over again.
~*~*~*~*~
This had to be a nightmare. It had to be. She would wake up and be in her bed at her cozy two bedroom apartment in Boston and her impending nuptials to Spike would be nothing but a very bad dream.
Only it couldn’t be. Sadly, she was wide awake and the whole of the Atlantic separated her from her home.
Home. Yeah, right, she scoffed inwardly, if her apartment was something other than a place to sleep and eat in between classes she wouldn’t be in this predicament.
She had no idea what Aunt Jenny had intended with this. She knew Buffy couldn’t stand Spike, even if she kept saying they were made for each other until she drew her last breath. She might have believed her once when she was young and impressionable. Never again, though.
She shuddered as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked haunted, her lips still slightly swollen from his kisses. She raised her fingers to ghost them over her mouth and closed her eyes… only to open them a second later, her hand closing in a fist that hit the vanity. No, no, NO! Never again, Buffy. No matter if his kiss had shaken her foundation, if it was all she’d expected once upon a time and more, much more.
It didn’t change things. Nothing would erase the humiliation she’d suffered almost a decade ago. Nothing would erase the years of animosity, not even this marriage. If Jenny thought it would, well, she had another thing coming.
The only reason she agreed to this madness was because she didn’t want to lose her home. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t lived there in years. It didn’t matter that she might have to put up with the bleached pest for a few hours before returning to her life in Boston. At least her aunt hadn’t put any conditions on the wedding… that they knew of.
Ugh, how had she gotten into this mess?
She dropped her head in her hands, exhaling a weary sigh. She was… well, maybe not exactly happy, but who was, right? She had a good life in Boston. She had good friends, loved her classes and wanted to go back to that. Or maybe take a small vacation at Insula Paradisului… Yes, that was it! She’d already dropped out of school this semester because of Jenny’s sudden illness—Buffy had refused to let anyone else care for her when she’d needed her—so she wouldn’t be missing out on much, and returning to her dear island would give her the chance to regroup and try to find a way out of this marriage, if one could even call it that.
She wouldn’t be Spike Withers’ wife for longer than was absolutely necessary, that was a given. Not to mention, he had another thing coming if he thought she was going to take his last name. She would marry him because she didn’t have any other option for the time being, cornered as she was, but she would do it on her terms! There was no way in hell she was dealing with all the paperwork to change it back once this farce of a union was over. And if he threw a fit about it? Well, that was his problem, not hers.
~*~*~*~*~
She was more than a little dizzy at the speed things were happening and for once, very thankful Aunt Jenny had taken care of most of the details before her passing. Of course, if it were left to her, she’d have shown up for the ceremony wearing comfortable jeans and a T-shirt. It wasn’t like anyone other than Giles, the judge and Spike would be there to witness this mockery and it made absolutely no sense to her to get all dressed up for a ceremony that was nothing more than a requirement to get what she wanted… her beloved island. As it stood though, her aunt saw fit to make sure the wedding had some formality to it and what Jenny wanted, Jenny got, even beyond the grave it might seem. Still, she had no idea how or when her aunt found the time to do all this.
Buffy had spent her aunt’s last two months alive taking care of her here at Spike’s London estate, only leaving her side to eat and whenever he came to visit, which was more often than she would have liked, but… if she didn’t do it then, did it mean she’d been planning this since before she fell ill?
She sighed heavily to herself. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like knowing the answer would change the outcome, would it?
“You look so beautiful, Miss Elizabeth,” the maid gushed as she finished buttoning her dress, startling her out of her musings.
She watched herself in the mirror and had to agree with Felicia; if nothing else, her aunt had excellent taste in clothes. It was a shame the same couldn’t be said for her taste in men… or rather in the man she was forcing her to marry.
The gown was a Vera Wang ivory strapless sweetheart creation with an asymmetrically draped tiered flange detail. It was gorgeous and made her feel ultra-feminine, not to mention the silky organza it was made of felt divine against her skin. It was a perfect fit, too, which was not so much with the surprising. Of course Jenny would have made sure they tailored the dress to her exact measurements; perfectionist that she’d been, she took every single detail into account, no matter how small or insignificant it might seem to others, which was preoccupying all in itself. Who knew what other details her aunt had taken care of?
She thanked the maid for her help then turned and twisted in front of the mirror. The dress was truly flawless, something she would’ve been ecstatic to wear if the circumstances were different… and if the groom were someone other than Spike. It wouldn’t have mattered who it was to Buffy, as long as it wasn’t him. Was that too much to ask?
It seemed it indeed was, she thought as she carefully started descending the grand staircase a few minutes later.
There, waiting for her at the bottom, was the man of her nightmares, dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal tux, crisp white shirt and silver-grey cravat and looking so handsome that, despite her best intentions, her breath hitched in her throat and her heart skipped a beat. But what almost made her lose her footing and fall in a heap at his feet, were his eyes. The wealth of emotion in those baby blues nearly made her forget that she hated him with everything she had, that this was only a charade and nothing else.
Damn, she was so screwed!
She felt slightly dizzy and her grip on the handrail tightened, inhaling deeply to steel her nerves before forcing herself to continue her trip downstairs instead of running in the opposite direction, as was her first impulse.
She was a vision!
The gown complimented her beauty perfectly, the style showcasing her many attributes and making her appear like an angel. And just like an angel, she seemed so bloody unattainable at the moment. But not for long! In a few moments, she would be his wife, and from then on, he’d do everything in his power to make her fall for him, make her forgive and forget all his wrongdoings.
“You look beautiful, love,” he said, offering her his arm when she reached his side.
She looked at the proffered limb and then at him, a frown marring her face, before ignoring it altogether. “I’ve told you more than enough times not to call me that,” she said through gritted teeth, walking past him towards the study room.
“What,” he shrugged, trailing after her, “Beautiful or love? Because to me, you’re both.”
The look she threw him would’ve frozen all of Hell itself. Not that he could blame her for her disbelief.
“What should I call you then?” he asked, grabbing her by the arm and turning her until she faced him, invading her personal space as he pressed her against a wall, reveling in the shiver that she couldn’t suppress and in the way her eyes widened with surprise at the suddenness of the movement. His voice dropped an octave before raising his hand to caress her face and play with a loose tendril of her hair, “Pet? Sweetheart? My little Goldilocks?”
Buffy swallowed hard; fighting against the spell his voice, his nearness, his eyes weaved around her. Fighting against the urge to just close her eyes and give in to him. Her eyelids felt heavy under his intense stare, her breathing ragged as she tried to remember she actually needed to fill her lungs with air, her skin on fire wherever it came in contact with his.
His lips were just a hairsbreadth away from hers when she heard someone clearing their throat from behind them and she sagged on her feet, closing her eyes in silent relief.
What was it about this man that made her forget herself and everything around them? Doomed, did she mention she was doomed?
Spike groaned aloud at the interruption, throwing an annoyed glare at the obviously amused older man. So fucking close… couldn’t he have given them just a few more minutes?
Giles offered him an unabashed grin and a shrug in response to his mute question. “Merrick and I were wondering what had kept you. Thought you might have changed your mind.”
“Not bloody likely,” Spike replied harshly, taking a step away from his wife to be. The moment was broken anyway.
“Good, good. Shall we go in then?” The barrister offered his arm to Buffy, who looked more than a little shaken as she took it, and he felt slightly guilty for his part in all this. He only hoped Jenny was right about William and her being perfect for each other.
~*~*~*~*~
Buffy was feeling downright nauseous as she heard Superintendent Registrar Merrick drone on and on through the ceremony, only half-listening to what he was saying, repeating what he asked her to say in what she hoped were the right moments, while wondering if they’d suspend the wedding if she hurled all over Spike’s very expensive tux.
Not that she had anything in her stomach that could actually do some real damage. Perhaps she shouldn’t have turned down Felicia—who was standing at Giles side as their second witness—when she offered to get her some food beforehand, but she’d been so nervous, so on edge, she had known she wouldn’t have been able to actually eat anything even if she tried.
Her palms were sweaty and clammy and she felt short of breath, the dizziness she’d felt earlier coming back with a vengeance.
“Elizabeth, please repeat after me… I, Elizabeth Anne, take thee William Edward, to be my lawful wedded husband,” she heard the Registrar say as if from very far away.
“I-I,” she started, bringing a trembling hand to her forehead where small beads of perspiration were gathering… before everything went black.
~*~*~*~*~
“Oh, bloody hell!” Spike exclaimed, barely catching her before she hit the floor, giving thanks to whatever deity who was listening for his quick reflexes as he carried her to the couch.
Her tanned skin was almost as white as her dress, making him worry even more about her.
He barely acknowledged Giles when he placed a glass filled with an amber liquid in his hand, sipping from it automatically, before the lawyer cuffed him in the back of his head. “That’s for her not you, you git!”
“Right, I knew that,” he responded, putting the glass to her lips as he raised her to a sitting position. “Buffy?” She scrunched her nose adorably as the smell of alcohol filled her nostrils, but didn’t open her eyes, so he insisted, “Love, open your eyes.”
Her eyelids fluttered and he stopped breathing as he waited for her to regain full consciousness.
Buffy went from being lost in a bottomless black pit to being mesmerized by the endless sea of tempestuous blue swirling in front of her eyes. She blinked, still slightly out of sorts, but finally managed to focus on his face and especially the azure depths after a few moments, trying to understand why he seemed so concerned.
“There you are,” he smiled at her in a way she couldn’t remember him ever smiling at her. It was the kind of smile he reserved for her aunt, not her. It was soft, caring, almost… adoring? Maybe she’d hit her head when she fainted and was seeing things that weren’t there?
“You have to drink this, kitten,” Spike said. She obeyed and was instantly sorry she did when the liquor burned a path down her throat, making her cough and sputter out what little of it hadn’t made its way down to her stomach. “Easy, pet, that’s twenty-four year old malt you’re spitting out.”
And there was the Spike she knew and lo-er, hated. She shuddered, both for her little mental slip and because of the whisky as she made a little moue of distaste. “I don’t care if it’s a hundred years old, it’s still disgusting! I don’t know how you can drink that stuff.”
“It’s called having good taste, love,” he winked at her, happy to see some color returning to her face.
“Ugh, how you can call liking… that good taste is beyond me.” She shivered for good measure, trying to get up from the couch, only to feel dizzy once again.
“I think you should remain there for the duration of the ceremony,” Spike suggested, pushing her back into it and sitting by her side. She would’ve complained about it if hadn’t been for the true concern she saw flashing across his chiseled features. She wasn’t so stubborn that she couldn’t see that this was for the best, so she just nodded her agreement.
“Superintendent Registrar, if you will?” Spike motioned the older man to continue, taking her right hand in his and tenderly entwining his fingers with hers.
The man exchanged a look with Giles, before clearing his throat. “Ahem, yes, certainly. Where were we? Oh yes, Miss Summers, do you take William Edward Withers to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Buffy looked at Spike and their joined hands, feeling his skin slightly damp against hers. Maybe this wasn’t as easy for him as it appeared at first glance? Not that it mattered, they didn’t have any real say in this and they both knew it. The decision had been taken out of their hands the moment her aunt put that condition in her will in order for them to properly inherit Insula Paradisului.
“I-I do,” she responded shakily.
“William, do you need me to repeat the words?” Merrick asked, smiling when the blond man waved his free hand no.
“I, William Edward, take thee Elizabeth Anne, to be my lawfully wedded wife,” he said turning on his side to look deeply into her eyes, grabbing her left hand in his before taking a ring out of his pocket and placing it on her ring finger. “With this ring I thee wed, and with it I bestow upon thee all I have to offer. I vow to honor, love and protect you until I die,” he finished solemnly.
She could barely believe what she was hearing or seeing. Love? When did love become part of the equation where they were concerned? Not to mention that she recognized the ring currently gracing her finger, knew what it meant to him, who it belonged to before. What the hell was happening here?
The Registrar, in deference to her agitated state and probably because he was afraid she would faint again, decided to bypass her vows, declaring immediately after, “By the power vested on me, I hereby declare you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride, son,” the older man finished and she nearly passed out again when Spike did just that.
Firm lips covered hers in a kiss that stole her breath away and that—much to her chagrin—ended almost as soon as it started. Next thing she knew, they were signing the Register along with Giles and Felicia, who was crying her eyes out and saying this was the most romantic wedding she’d ever attended and after hugging them effusively, she and Merrick exited the room, leaving them alone with the barrister.
~*~*~*~*~
The ceremony had been short, even if during that time Spike had somehow managed to confuse the hell out of her with his actions and words… and the ring, don’t forget the ring. As if she could! She could feel it weighing on her ring finger, marking her as his. However, right now, Buffy would’ve preferred the wedding and all it implied to be on a never-ending loop rather than hearing what Giles had to say after it… or rather read.
The rest of her aunt’s will.
“So, all in all, you have to spend the next two weeks at Insula Paradisului together with no other company but the servants,” Giles explained when he finished.
Buffy blinked as she tried to process his words, or her Aunt’s words rather. Two weeks with Spike? Alone at the island? Two weeks with him after what he said and did? Oh God!
She couldn’t say she was exactly surprised there was more to the will than they’d thought at first; however, at the moment, her only consolation was that Spike didn’t seem to be faring much better than her with the news if his expression was anything to go by.
Bloody buggering hell! Of all the things his stepmother could have asked, it had to be that, hadn’t it?
Yes, he’d thought of taking his bride away on a romantic honeymoon, but he’d planned on Tahiti or Bali, not Insula Paradisului.
Definitely not Insula Paradisului!
He’d thought of taking her somewhere where he could romance her, show her how good they could be together while working on winning her love and trust back. The last thing he wanted or needed was for her to be constantly reminded of how badly he’d messed up all those years ago. Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to make her forget about it anyway, no matter the location.
Still… at the island? The odds were definitely against him. Damn it all to Hell! Just when he thought things were going his way for once.
“Alright, if you have no further questions,” Giles interrupted their separate musings, “I suggest you leave now. Everything is set up as per Jenny’s instructions, the only thing you need to do is take the car that’s waiting for you outside. Your luggage is already in it.”
“Wait a second…” Buffy started to say before he left the room. “How do we know that after we do this, there won’t be yet another condition?”
“You don’t, that’s the beauty of it, my dear child.” The older man smiled beatifically at her and shrugged. “It’s up to you two to decide how much you want the island. Remember…” he paused with purpose. “No one is forcing you to accept.”
Yeah, right. She sighed resignedly, throwing a glance at her enemy… er, husband. Oh well, at least he didn’t seem as smug about the whole sordid affair as he appeared the day before.
Could be worse she supposed, although at the moment she couldn’t think how.