Picture Challenge Entry

[vivien]

By Vivien

AN: For slodwick's Picture Challenge – exactly 1,000 words. A little post-Shanshu Spike/Buffy fluff piece, it will probably grow longer. One of these days.


The white limousine pulled away from the church, a clatter of cans and wooden stakes rattling behind it. Dawn hung out the side window, waving back at the crowd at the bottom of the church steps. “Bye! I love you, guys! Bye!” she called, beaming and then slipped back into the backseat, no doubt, Buffy thought, to snuggle with her new husband.

Buffy wasn’t upset that her younger sister had gotten married while she remained single. No, she wasn’t upset at all. After all, Simon was a great guy, one of the best Mentors they had in Slayer Support. Her sister deserved every bit of happiness.

But that didn’t keep her from feeling a bit depressed. At least Dawn had picked a wonderful dress for her to wear as Maid of Honor. Buffy cringed at that term every time she heard it.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she put her hand over it. Giles had been there for her, for everyone really, every moment in the past ten years since the Hellmouth had been sealed. He’d walked Dawn down the aisle today, every bit the proud father. When Buffy turned to look at him, she wondered, as she did often these days, when he had gotten so old.

“It was a beautiful wedding,” said Giles.

“Yeah, it was, wasn’t it? They make a great couple.” Buffy sighed, releasing some of the tension she’d been holding in all day.

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m a little tired. Dawnie got kind of manic there towards the end, but Willow really helped calm her down. I’m so glad she got to come back for this.”

Giles nodded his head, indicating the guests heading back to the reception hall, “I know everyone would love to visit with you awhile. Especially before tomorrow’s meeting.”

The Slayer Support Team, as it had become known, had taken advantage of the wedding to convene for a summit of sorts. On the table for discussion was whether a new Calling spell was needed a decade after the first. The battle against evil never stopped, even with an army of trained Slayers on hand.

“Um… I think I want a little quiet for a few minutes,” Buffy said. “But I’m planning serious visitation with the old gang. Don’t worry. Wedding Addled Buffy is a temporary condition.”

Giles wrapped her in a big hug. “I’ll see you in a bit then.”

She watched him walk towards the line of wedding guests filing back towards the food and dancing. She walked up the steps of the church towards a little peace and quiet.

She expected this feeling of the blues wasn’t uncommon. She was thirty-three, terminally unlucky in love, no matter what the living status of her partners was. It wasn’t that she didn’t have time for relationships – she was still a Slayer, the most senior Slayer of course, but now one of many.

A few lovers had come and gone over the years, but none that ever felt permanent. If she wanted to analyze this, which she most certainly didn’t, she would realize that her feelings of ambivalence towards the men she met had intensified about six years ago.

That had been about the time, though Buffy would never admit it, when Wesley had called them with the news that Angel and Spike had been lost in the latest round of Apocalypses facing L.A. They’d fought bravely and had sacrificed themselves, as champions tended to do. The news had stunned Buffy more than she had thought it might.

Buffy walked up the aisle of the church and slid into a pew. She sighed as the weight came off her high-heeled feet. The flowers hadn’t been removed yet, and she could smell the gentle scent of roses. It was lovely in here, with the sun filtering through the stained glass, picking up the play of the dust motes floating through the air. She wasn’t a religious person, but she knew when she was in a place of goodness and light.

She closed her eyes and thought about the two vampires she had loved beyond reason. It seemed like such a long time ago. When she’d found out Spike had been resurrected, she hadn’t known what to do. She’d mourned for him and moved on, but she had still been angry that he hadn’t come right to her. When she’d heard he’d died along with Angel, she wished so hard that she had gone right to him once she’d known. And there had always been the hope that someday, somehow, things might work with Angel, her first love. She put her hand over her eyes. Why did she still have the energy to devote thought to two men who had been dead so long?

A rustle from the back of the church roused her from her thoughts. She turned around in surprise. She saw a man with golden, curly hair heading to the doors.

“Hey,” she called out, “Everyone’s at the reception now.”

The man stopped, but didn’t turn around. There was something familiar about him. Buffy stood up and walked to him. “Were you a guest of the groom or the bride?” she said, smiling.

He turned to her. “The bride,” he said quietly.

Buffy’s eyes opened wide. “Spike?” she whispered. It couldn’t be. This man was older looking, dressed entirely differently than Spike had ever dressed. Not to mention he had glasses. She must be mistaken. Either that or the glass of champagne she’d had was going to her head.

“Spike…” the man said wistfully. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time. I’m sorry to bother you. I heard about the wedding, and I just… I’ll be going.”

He hurried out the doors. Buffy stood there, stunned for a moment. His voice was the same; the look in his eyes was the same… She didn’t know how this could be, but she was going to find out. She ran after him into the bright sunshine.