*****

"Spike, quit squirming. You'll only make it worse." Xander put his hands firmly on Spike's shoulders. "Now stand still and let me tie this thing properly."

"If you don't get it tied, will they call the whole thing off?"

"No, you'll just look silly with your bow-tie dangling around your neck." Xander paused. "Do you *want* them to call the whole thing off?"

"Er, can we still go on the honeymoon if they do?" Spike was carefully not meeting Xander's eyes.

"Yeah, I guess." It was hard to keep the pout out of his voice. So hard, in fact, that he didn't bother. "But if you just wanted to go somewhere and have sex, why did you ask me to marry you in the first place?" The fact that *he* had been the one to convince *Spike* to go somewhere else to have sex hadn't escaped his memory-- he was just studiously ignoring it in favor of putting his lover on the spot.

"Didn't say that I didn't wanna *marry* you. Just...do we have to have the whole bleedin' ceremony? Can't we just sneak into the bar and let him say 'I now pronounce you hitched' and be done?" Spike was fidgeting, tugging at his jacket, interfering with Xander's tying of the bowtie, and slipping his fingers under Xander's cummerbund.

Xander sighed patiently. "No. Three months ago, we could have done that. *Before* we told Cordelia. Now.... Do you remember what she did when you forgot to order the caviar for that Easter party she threw?"

"Nope, can't say as I do." Spike looked mildly confused. "Must be the lingering effects of the concussion from the bottle of wine she threw at me."

"That was the first thing she did. If you really don't remember what came next, I'm not gonna be mean enough to remind you. My point being, if you ruin *this* party, I'll be a widower before you can carry me over the threshold."

Spike sighed, just hard enough that Xander knew it was purely for effect without being obvious about being for effect. He was tempted not to ask what Spike was up to and just finish tying his mirror-deprived fiance's tie.

Most of the time, after all, he enjoyed the things that Spike got up to. Most of the time Spike made sure they were enjoyable. But this was niggling at him. There was mischief in the air, and while he loved mischief as much as the next good-guy-in-love-with-a-kinda-evil-guy, there wasn't just Cordelia out there to fear. There was an army of women out there waiting for them. All of whom had planned this thing down to the last detail, and wisely shared as little as possible of it with the two of them. And if Spike blew it...

"Okay, what are you thinking," he finally asked, with much trepidation, as he pulled the silk ribbon just tight enough to not-quite-choke his vampire.

"Ack! Careful, there." Spike reached up to pull at the tie, and got his hand batted away. Which made him pout. "S'not fair, you beating on me when we can't have a quick shag." There was a pause. "Er, can--"

"We've already done it three times in the last two hours!"

Spike blinked at him. "So? You're gonna say we've never done it more'n four times in two hours? Because you'd be lying...." Spike smiled. "And then I'd have to spank somebody for being naughty."

"No." Xander firmly squelched his desire to be that somebody. "I'm saying we already have our pants -- if you want to call them that -- on, and it took a damn shoe horn to get us into them in the first place."

Spike looked down at Xander's pants, and for some reason just the looking made Xander squirm and think that a shoe horn really wasn't all that difficult to use. Practice made perfect, and all that. "Shoulda got *you* a pair of those blue and white striped swim shorts," Spike said casually.

Xander faked left, faked right, faked a pout. "You don't think I look better in black?"

"Yeah, I'm just saying. Love a little white stripe, right about--" And he put his finger right where one of the stripes would have been, and traced its imaginary path.

"Ssssssspi--ike!" Xander hissed. "I love you. Very, very much. But if you make me walk out in front of my *grandparents* with a boner, I'm going to...have *Cordelia* help me think up something mean for me to do to you."

Spike dropped his hand, but looked up at him. "You wouldn't."

"He would. I would. Are you two *ever* going to be ready?" Cordelia stood in the doorway.

"Almost," Xander promised. "Just let me fix Spike's hair."

Not that he'd saved this until last because he wanted something really distracting to do before walking out there. Not that he was remotely nervous. He just wanted to be the one who got to run his fingers through that grown-out honey-colored mop, and if he'd let that be part of the pre-wedding preparations, it would've been Cordelia doing it.

"You're gonna fix Spike?" Cordelia was asking, but the edge to her teasing was missing. She walked into the room and gave them both measuring looks. Then she smiled. "You two look good."

Spike preened. Well, he had reason to, not that he'd ever needed it. The whole undead Chippendale thing worked for him. The tailcoat over the red silk cummerbund, no shirt in sight, and the black swim trunks.... When Cordelia had said trunks, Xander had thought she meant trunks, the kind that were really glorified boxer shorts. Not these lycra-spandex-painted-on-vinyl things. Not that Spike didn't look good in them, but they showed off *everything*. And of course, 'everything' was showing off. On both of them, which was the point of yelling at Spike and his wandering hands.

"Thanks. We'll be ready in a minute-- really."

"Oh, I know." Cordelia came closer and reached up to run her fingers through Spike's grown-out hair. Spike pulled his head out of her reach and glared at her. She stuck her tongue out, then said, "Because you're not getting left alone again until you're husband and husband."

Xander was actually thankful for the distraction from Spike's distractions, although he really couldn't afford to let her know it, or she might think he owed her something. "Fine. Whatever." He picked up the comb from a nearby table and began to draw it lightly through Spike's hair.

He had to stop, once, and glare at Spike when he realized the vampire was subvocalizing. At least that's what Spike insisted it should be called, when anyone not-Spike would just call it purring. Spike looked back at him as though he had no idea why Xander could possibly be chastising him *this* time. "You're making me wanna kiss you, dammit!" Wide, utterly innocent blue eyes stared back at him. "If I kiss you, then I'll wanna do other things!" Eyes stayed wide and innocent.

"And if you try to do other things, while I'm standing here to make sure you two don't mess up this wedding, I'm going to tell everyone that you don't really like each other, and you're only getting married because Drusilla told you to." Cordelia glared at them both, arms folded across her chest.

She was helping, of course, but Xander felt duty-bound to point out the flaw in her logic. "Um.. Cordy, sweet light of my life and controller of my destiny... Don't you think anybody *looking* at us can tell that we like each other?"

"For sex, sure. Who wouldn't?"

"She's got you there, mate," Spike said, still looking too innocent to have been trying to seduce anyone in the dressing room in front of said anyone's ex-girlfriend right before their wedding.

Xander sighed. "Well, you wouldn't," he said to Cordelia, "In high school. Which is utterly beside the point. I mean, don't you think anybody looking at Spike can see that he's totally smitten with me?" He ignored the snort that came from the direction of the hallway. He didn't even want to know who else was out there waiting to take a crack at them.

"Smitten? Hell, I just wanna get those trunks off you." Spike's fingers strayed dangerously near bits of Xander that had finally begun forgetting that Spike was nearby, wearing almost nothing.

"Cordelia? Need any help?" Angel stuck his head through the doorway.

"Would you like to beat up your son for me?"

Angel cocked his head to one side. "Is that a trick question?"

Xander sighed again, this time in relief, and tied Spike's hair back with a piece of red ribbon. "Won't be necessary, but thanks for the offer." And it was always nice to know that Spike was more interested in the contents of his swim trunks than the guy attached to them. Not that Spike *wasn't* interested in him. It was just helpful to be reminded of his fiance's priorities every so often.

"Does this mean I can't beat him up?" Angel sounded disappointed, like he'd been told he didn't get to sneak off and brood in a corner, either.

"Like you *could*," Spike began, and when Angel gave him a fierce look, ducked behind Xander. "Not afraid of you...so long as Xander'll help me hold you down. Er, and Cordelia, too."

"I won't help you hold Cordelia down," Xander warned him. He loved Spike, but he wanted to *live* with him after they got married. At least until he stopped living, then he wanted to unlive with him.

"No, she'll get to help us hold Angel down." Spike nudged him with his elbow. "Pay attention."

"I knew this was a bad idea," Cordelia sighed. "We should have made them get dressed in separate rooms. In separate hotels."

Spike looked at Xander. "Ever notice how sometimes, very rarely, like once or twice an hour, they talk about us like we're not even here?"

"Yeah. Ever noticed how they treat us like overgrown five-year-olds? I wonder why that is." Perhaps because Spike *was*, and Xander was morally required to play along on the grounds that Spike would feel stupid if he were the only one acting like an idiot? That was, at least, the excuse Xander planned to give if anyone ever bothered to actually ask them why they didn't act their age. Hadn't had to use it yet.

"Ever notice how they only seem to really get annoyed if we try to start stripping each other in front of them, if they've got other plans for us?" Spike's fingers hooked into Xander's cummerbund again. "Ow!" He turned and glared at Cordelia. "Remind me why I didn't bite you years ago?"

"Because the only two chances you had, Buffy and Angel kicked your tight little ass?" she said with a cheery smile.

"They did *not*." He hesitated, and added, "And I had three chances."

She frowned, while Xander suppressed a smirk. Spike couldn't *possibly* be talking about the last time Willow messed around with his chip and let him wander around the hotel for an hour with the *ability* to bite anybody he damn well pleased, just to make him happy. Nobody was supposed to know about that.

"You're lying," Cordelia finally said.

"Oh, the horror. Me, lying? When the truth is much more fun?" Spike winked at Xander. "Now she's not gonna sleep for two weeks, trying to remember." He suddenly had a dainty, delicate hand around his throat. "Er, help?"

"You'll wrinkle his bow-tie," Xander reminded her. Though it wasn't as if Spike really *needed* help, him not having to breathe and all.

Cordelia carefully let go of Spike, and sniffed. "As if. Trust me, there's a wrinkle-proof spell on everything you're wearing."

There was a moment of silence, with Spike and Xander casting glances to each other. Then Spike said, "Um, Princess...."

"Yes, we have a de-lusting spell, too." She grinned.

"And you haven't used it yet because?" Xander asked, dreading the answer.

"Because no one asked?" Cordelia said, looking innocent as Spike.

"She's gonna make us beg," Spike stage-whispered.

Xander was *not* going to beg. He was *not*. He looked at Spike. "You wanna elope?"

Cordelia just laughed. She knew damn well that he wouldn't dare. Spike didn't even bother answering. Xander sighed, for the umpteenth time so far today. Looked at Spike again. Looked down at himself. Thought about fried Spam and pickle sandwiches. Looked at Spike. Looked down at himself. Looked at Cordelia.

"Fine. Please?"

She raised her hand, then stopped. Looked at Angel. "I'm not sure I have any left, after dusting you three." Angel shrugged, a 'what can you do?' expression on his face.

"She's making us beg," Spike said.

"I don't see you begging," Xander objected, glaring at his gleeful fiance.

Spike looked surprised. "Why would she wanna see *me* begging? I haven't the knack for it -- all gangly, and my posture's bad."

"Look, if you make either of us go down on our knees before you de-lust us, you won't like the results," Xander said to Cordelia after whapping Spike firmly on the head with the comb.

"Man's got a point," Angel put in.

"Why? If they're *both* on their knees, they can't do anything obscene."

"Think about who you've just said that about," Angel told her.

Spike was leering at Xander. "I wanna see Xander beg," he piped up.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Which is reason enough for me not to make him." She reached into the pocket of her bathrobe and pulled out a small phial of glittery dust. When Spike pulled his best 'I'm the cutest vampire on the planet, don't you want to make me happy' pout, she smacked him, right on the tails of his tailcoat.

"Oo! Do that again?" He wriggled his bum -- then froze. "Oi! Fuck all, that stuff works fast." He pouted at Xander, then stopped. He got a funny look on his face.

Xander raised an eyebrow. What now? "Yes?"

"I feel the same." His voice was soft, and his cockney accent had vanished entirely.

Xander wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to say to that. Mostly because the English language had completely deserted him. "Oh." He tried for a smile, and wasn't quite sure what he got, because he was too busy looking at Spike to look in the mirror. It was really all he ever needed to know.

"Can you grab them both? Or should we just bring everyone into the hallway?" Cordelia asked.

"Shh. I'm feeling mushy," Angel answered.

"Oh, God, not you, too?" Cordelia put her hands on her hips. "People, this is a wedding! You can get mushy later-- we've got a show to put on!"

But Xander was too busy kissing Spike to pay much attention to her, and Angel was kind of sniffing in the background, sounding like big giant vampires were allowed to brood, but not actually *cry* at weddings.

"Oh, come on, you can do that later. In front of *everybody*." Cordelia tugged on Xander's arm. She sounded suspiciously...mushy, herself. Xander finally let go of Spike -- his lips, at least, and turned to her. She smiled, happily. Then whapped their arms. "We're almost out of all the allotted 'groping in the dressing room' time."

"Well, since you de-lusted Spike, I think we're about done groping," Xander pointed out. Cordelia smiled, and pointed downwards. Xander obligingly looked down-- and realized that sometime while he'd been kissing, she'd dusted him, too. Either that, or the fried Spam and pickle sandwiches were finally having an effect. "Oh."

"The de-lusting of the wedding party has been completed. And I still have some left for any of the guests who are still in need of it."

"Who--no, don't tell me," Angel corrected himself.

"Well, everybody's wearing swimsuits of one kind or another." She made a face. "Some more fashionable than others."

A nasty thought suddenly flittered through Xander's head, and his brain ran after it, trying to catch it with a butterfly net. "Um... Cordy, you didn't by any chance get this spell from Ethan, did you?"

She grinned, evilly. When Xander groaned, she laughed. "Relax. I got it from Wesley and Willow. Although...no. Never mind."

Spike looked at Xander. "I bet I could bite her -- ow! Dammit."

"Bite her what?" Xander supplied, since they'd flipped for it a few hours ago, and it was his turn to be the straight man. So to speak. Of course, they'd flipped *Xander* for it, and he'd called heads knowing full well that he'd end up face down, so the whole thing was pretty much voluntary on his part.

"Bite her *anything*," Spike complained. "All I asked was that on my wedding day, I get to bite people. Is that so much to ask?"

The frightening part was that Xander almost thought he sounded reasonable. "You can bite me. Later," he promised with a smile. "Come on, she's right. It's time to go face the roaring crowds."

"Nobody's roaring, yet," Cordelia corrected. "We locked up the liquor with chains, padlocks, *and* a newt-spell."

"And that's stopping them how?" Spike asked.

"OK, it's time," Cordelia announced, without even looking at a watch. "Angel?"

Angel nodded, and headed for Spike. "Excuse me, where are you taking my vampire?" Xander more or less politely asked as Angel disentangled Spike from his arms.

"Don't worry, you'll get him back," Angel assured him. Spike gave Xander a panicked look, as if he wasn't sure Angel was telling the truth.

"Oh, relax! You guys have to enter from opposite sides of the room," Cordelia said, guiding Xander towards the door as well. "Giles!" she shouted down the hall. "I've got yours, if you're ready to come and get him."

Spike looked at Angel again, then back at Xander. He mouthed the words 'meet you in the car!' before Angel dragged him out of the room.

"He'll be fine. *You'll* be fine," Cordelia reassured Xander. Then Giles appeared in the doorway behind her. "Oh, good. He's all yours. For five minutes." She gave Xander a kiss on the cheek. "Good luck!" she said, then she left the room.

Xander shot a nervous smile at Giles, who looked just as nervous. "Um...you're not gonna give me the speech about the birds and the bees, are you?"

"Do you need one?" Giles asked, semi-seriously.

Xander shook his head. "I think I've got it covered. Also the one where the little boy birds who hang out with the little boy bees miraculously don't make any tiny little bee-birds."

Giles nodded. "Good. Then we'll skip that talk." He fell silent and for a moment just looked at Xander with a quiet, restrained smile of pride.

"And you're not gonna give me the 'if he ever cheats on you I'll stake him for you' speech, are you?" Xander asked when the silence got to be just a little too mushy. "Because I've already had that speech from at least five different people. And I mean *today*-- I'd run out of digits if I tried to count anything earlier."

Instead of answering, Giles just walked over. He reached up and cupped Xander's cheek. "If you had been my own," he began. Then he stopped, and placed a kiss on Xander's forehead. "I couldn't be more proud. Except for the bit about my car."

"I bought you a new one, didn't I?" Xander protested, still feeling the spot on his forehead as if he'd been burnt. Wondering if Giles would spontaneously combust if Xander told him it would be okay to kiss him on the lips. Spike, among other people, wouldn't mind.

"I *meant* that one."

Which he wasn't supposed to have found out about. Spike had *assured* Xander that the demons they'd hired had exactly replicated the car down to the molecule. "Um..."

"It didn't have that new car smell."

"Ah." Or possibly Giles was lying, and he had better connections with that particular clan than Spike did. You never knew, with Giles. "Next time, I'll be sure to remember to have them include that. Unless you'd rather it smelled like movie theatre butter?"

"Er, no, thank you. Not unless there's real popcorn attached to the smell." They fell silent again. Right before the silence could grow awkward, Giles said, "I'm supposed to be saying something meaningful and poignant. But I've been unable to think of anything. And I've been working on my speech ever since you asked me if you were living under a curse."

"The day Spike proposed to me? Or the first time, when I banged down your door and told you I'd kissed him and could you please check me for signs of possession or early senility?"

"The first time, actually. I wasn't going to admit to it, though. I have, however, thought of something I should give you. Not a speech, as such, because I think you've had plenty of chances to benefit from my wisdom--"

Xander gave him the most innocent look he could possibly contrive, and didn't say anything, because he knew it would drive Giles bonkers.

"Anyhow, I've your wedding present. Won't be able to give it to you until you get back from your honeymoon. Just wanted you to know, when you get to the reception and there's nothing there from me."

"Ooh! What is it? New car?"

"Hardly. As if you needed one. No, this is something...different." Giles smiled a more wicked smile than before. "Shall I give you a hint?"

Was he kidding? "Tell me tell me tell me tell me...." Xander only refrained from bouncing because, de-lusting spell or no, the swim trunks were tight enough that things would still bounce along with him.

"I thought so. Remember, you asked." He waited until Xander nodded, still eagerly. Then, first, Giles leaned forward again. Kissed him again. On the mouth. Xander was still processing that -- Giles lips! On mine! Kissed me! Who-hoo! -- when Giles turned him around.

And spanked him, hard.

"Ow!" The reaction was automatic. It took a few seconds for the little birdies to stop flying around Xander's head, so he could *consciously* realize that A) Giles had spanked him, and B) it had *hurt*. "What was *that* for?"

Giles blinked at him in surprise. "Oh, for god's sake, Xander. Has getting married killed your brain cells? Oh -- you've been de-lusted, haven't you. I should have thought of that...." He glanced away, shook himself, then said, "Well, let's get going, shall we? We've an aisle to walk down." He sounded like nothing had happened.

Xander was still blinking. Well, if he'd needed anything to distract him from being nervous about walking down the aisle with Spike... "Oh God. I'm about to walk down the aisle with Spike," he gulped.

Giles eyed him. "Yes, well, I'd say you're up to it. One foot in front of the other?"

"Um. Yeah." He looked down. "Which one goes first, again?"

"Start with the left. Always the left." He frowned. "Or is it the right?" He smiled at Xander, more sympathetically this time. "Come on, take my arm."

Xander was *still* blinking, as he wrapped his hand around Giles' arm. "This is all really silly, isn't it. I mean, the wedding thing. The swimsuits. The, you know. Us in general."

"Nonsense. It isn't silly. It's an affirmation of the most important thing in your life. A celebration with friends and family of the most binding commitment two living - or unliving - people could make. Besides which, Spike is as nervous as you are about making a fool of himself *and* there's free cake." Giles gave him a serious look. "Unless you meant the little bowties that your fish are wearing, then, yes, that part is silly."

"Oh god, he didn't put them in the pool, did he? I've told him over and over again about the chlorine, but sometimes he forgets, or at least he pretends he forgets, and I don't know if they put regular water or chlorinated water in this time...""

"Xander?"

"Sorry. Left foot first?"

"Left foot first."

*****

Angel dragged him down the hallway, away from Xander. Spike tried to dig his heels in and get out of Angel's grip -- today was his wedding, and he was marrying *Xander*, not Angel. So why would he want to sneak off with his Sire?

Not that they seemed to be sneaking. Everyone they passed just smiled and waved. Or tittered. Spike frowned. They were out of hearing range, now -- he couldn't overhear what Giles was saying to Xander.

Angel finally pulled him into a room.

"Look, you know I don't like you that way anymore, right? If this is some last-ditch attempt to add me to your stable, the answer's no." Not that he'd necessarily say no to the idea of he and Xander playing about with the Sire sometime, but he didn't think Wes and Gunn would go for it. On the other hand, all *five* of them in one room....

"What are you talking about, Spike?" Angel was looking at him, confused.

"I don't know what I'm talking about! Christ, Angel, I'm about to get married!"

A peculiar smile appeared on Angel's face. It wasn't the 'Spike, you're a complete moron and I'm so glad everyone else knows too' smile. It wasn't the 'Spike, you've done something clever and I'm proud of you' smile. There *was* one of those, believe it or not, though it had been so long that Spike sometimes wondered if he'd imagined it. This one was something in between, or maybe none of those at all.

"What?" he growled. Or possibly squeaked.

"It looks good on you." Angel reached out and touched Spike's hair. But Spike didn't think he was talking about the long, brown strands he'd grown out for Xander's benefit. "I'm glad you're...well, settling down is the wrong phrase. I'm glad you're happy."

Oh. That. "Yeah. I am." And he was. So why did it irk him that Angel was glad he was? Because he'd been waiting to hear something else, he wasn't sure what? "And Dru's happy, and she's not causing any trouble, so you can cross her off your list, too."

Was that what he'd meant to say? He wasn't sure. Angel was trying to be nice, really he was, and Spike could see it. Maybe it was him, Spike, and his all-fired urge to dig at his Sire. Couldn't he leave things alone, even *today*?

But Angel was just looking at him like he hadn't done anything annoying. "You're not on that list, Spike. Haven't been since you started living with Xander." His tone changed. "I think you're on *his* list, though."

"His list of people he thinks he has to be responsible for even though they're grown-up type people who can take care of themselves?" Spike was a bit confused.

"His list of people to be worried about."

Spike thought about that for a second, instead of just blurting out the first answer that came into his head. Amazing what a good de-lusting could do for you. "Yeah. Maybe. We do that. Worry about each other."

Angel was nodding, like he knew exactly what Spike was talking about -- even though he hadn't ever been married, himself. Hadn't made a real commitment to anyone that didn't involve worlds ending and chaos. Although Spike had *seen* Morrie's, after that video came out....

But Angel was still looking at him like he thought Spike was...was...Spike didn't know.

He felt that little growl building in his chest. The kind of helpless one that you had to throw out at the world when you weren't quite sure what was going on, but you had to say *something* or they'd *know* you didn't have enough brains not to try to beat a squirrel in a tree-climbing competition. Which they already knew, but there were certain things everybody just pretended about, and Spike growled, just a little. "What?"

"I wish I could tell you what I really feel. But I'm not sure you'll believe me." Again with the peculiar look, only this time when Angel shrugged, the look segued into a more recognizable controlled nonchalance. He'd always done the vampire brood look better than any vamp Spike had known.

Spike nodded. "Prob'ly won't. Tell me anyway. S'my wedding, I should get what I want." Which was the sort of spoiled-little-kid thing he'd used to say once, a long time ago, and it wasn't doing much for his claim to be a grown-up type person, but sod it. How often did Angel even hint that he might share something of what was going on in that great empty noggin of his?

Angel raised an eyebrow at him, which probably said all it needed to about what he really felt. Then he sighed. Again, telling it all. Then he went and bollocksed it up by saying, "I wish I could take credit for any of this. I wish I could claim the right to be proud of you. All I can do is be glad for you."

Spike wasn't sure what that meant. He *thought* it meant that Angel *was* proud of him, and was being a gigantic soppy Irish wanker about the whole thing, but he couldn't be sure. He *thought* Angel was saying something nice about Xander, too. But Spike couldn't really put the whole thing together, so he was mostly confused, and there was a funny feeling in his chest that wasn't quite like he was going to growl again, and he wasn't sure what that was, either.

He essayed a tentative sound, and yep, that was definitely a squeak, so he shut his mouth and just stood there, being generally discombobulated. There was a twitch on the corner of Angel's mouth, and Spike decided easily that if he smiled, Spike was going to hit him. Willow hadn't fixed his chip so that he couldn't hit Angel -- he hadn't actually ever asked why, figuring it had something to do with the curse, back before it became moot.

Then the great sop grabbed Spike by the back of the neck, pulled him closer and kissed him on the forehead. When he let Spike go, he said, "You'll do fine."

Spike fixed him with a stern glare. "Daft bugger. You've mussed up your hair, you know." He hadn't, but now he'd spend the entire ceremony trying to figure out if it was or not, and everyone would think he was crazy, which was fine, because he deserved it.

Bad enough Spike had to go out there and pretend not to be nervous, and pretend he knew what the hell he was not being nervous about, he had to deal with sire-mush on top of it?

Angel just smiled, calmly. "That's OK. No one will be looking at my hair, anyhow." Which told Spike that Angel was just trying to drive *him* nuts.

"Yeah, they'll all be lookin' at Wesley's swimsuit," he said as quickly as he could, then raced for the door. He'd just reached the doorway when he felt himself being lifted by his jacket. "Careful! You wrinkle me and you'll have Princess to answer to!"

He was turned around, and glowered back at Angel, who was glowering at him. "Don't make me slay you."

"You couldn't slay me if you wanted to -- you'd piss off too many people in line ahead of you," Spike pointed out logically. "Now are you gonna put me down and walk me out there in style, or what?"

A second later Spike found himself dangling over Angel's shoulder. Angel's *bony* shoulder which was digging into his stomach. His hand was on Spike's arse, and he knew that if he said anything, he'd get pinched. He didn't know why Angel thought that would stop him.

"You do realize I'm in a perfect position to bite you on the arse," he inquired.

"You do realize that if my swimsuit has fang marks in it...." Angel trailed off, as if realizing that with regard to *anyone* out waiting by the pool, Angel would be in more trouble than Spike.

"Right," Spike said smugly. "Just so we know where we stand. Giddyup, then." There was a sigh such as one would expect from one suffering the flames of hell for a thousand years, give or take a weekend. Then Angel set Spike down on his feet. Spike rolled his eyes. Couldn't the git decide, already? He held out his arm. "Left bloody foot first, Angel. Then the right one. Lather, rinse, repeat."

"I'm not inviting you to my wedding, Spike. Just so you know." But Angel took his arm.

They were halfway down the hall before it really filtered into Spike's brain, and he turned his head so fast it gave him an ice-cream headache. "*Your* wedding?"

Angel just kept walking towards the pool room.

*****