Chapter Three

Spike stood nervously in the stone church. The entire sanctuary room glowed with the light of hundreds of candles. Flowers were scattered about the room. Guests tittered softly amongst themselves. "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" began to play on the organ, and the guests, all of which had recieved notice over the phone the previous day, stood. A vision in white slowly approached him, on the arm of a middle-aged man whom Spike didn't recognize. He tried not to gape as Aphrodite came up the aisle toward him, remembering that he was in public and also the Big Bad.

The entire ceremony lasted all of ten minutes. Spike and Buffy's eyes were locked for the entirety of those ten minutes, blue eyes melting into hazel.

"William, if you would repeat after me," the clergyman asked.

As Spike slipped the white gold band onto Buffy's finger, he repeated the words the pastor had stated softly. "With this ring, I thee wed," he said, huskily.

"With this ring, I thee wed," Buffy repeated, sliding a matching ring onto his own hand.

The pastor seemed to expand as he stated the final words of the ceremony. "Now, by the power vested in me by God and the state of California, I pronounce you husband and wife. William, you may kiss your bride."

Spike's eyes darted from Buffy's eyes to her lips. Under his gaze, she licked them unconsciously. Their mouths inched closer and closer still, eyes falling shut as their lips barely brushed. Spike pressed his lips to hers a bit firmer, kissing her tenderly. Next to them, they heard the tearing of flesh and cloth as the clergyman who had just wed them morphed into a cow-like creature. The guests gasped in a combination of shock and fascination as its mouth opened wide, and suddenly closed again as Spike, who had broken the kiss long enough to pick up the battleaxe, cleaved the demon in two. The demon, now dead, disintegrated, leaving behind no traces that it had ever existed. Buffy and Spike walked down the aisle together, out to their limousine which would carry them to the Armory, where their reception would be held.

The ride in the limousine was made in comfortable silence. Buffy stared out the window, while Spike sipped champagne. I'm married. I'm actually married, they both thought at the same time.

They were greeted with applause and cheers as they entered the hall. Buffy's father approached the couple, pressing an envelope into Spike's hand as he shook it. "Inside that envelope there are first-class airline tickets to New York City, where I made reservations for you for two weeks at the Plaza Hotel. The plane leaves in four hours from LAX." Buffy and Spike looked at each other, grinned, and joined the small crowd. They stayed for an hour, then left to pack for their honeymoon that they hadn't planned for. In the hour at the reception, Buffy spoke with Angel, whom she hadn't noticed had attended until he approached them, as well as Riley, explaining to him that while she was married she couldn't date him. Spike, on the other hand, sat at the bar and glowered at the her two exes.

The cross-country flight in first class was very, very long and tiresome. Buffy curled up on her large seat, dozing off. At some point she ended up stretching so her legs lay across Spike's lap. He caught the blanket as it threatened to fall off her, straightening it. He was surrounded by her scent as she slept peacefully next to him, curled under her cheap airline blanket. She smelled of vanilla, with undertones of soap and spices and... arousal? Spike didn't breathe for the remainder of the flight.

"Reservations for Summers," Buffy stated to the clerk at the front desk of the lavish hotel.

The clerk checked her computer, then took two key-cards from the shelf behind her and handed them to Buffy. "If you'll follow me," she said slightly stiffly as she walked through the main lobby of the Plaza. "Someone will bring up your bags."

They stepped into the elevator, and a few moments later stepped back out and walked down a hallway, at the end of which was a door. Sliding the key-card through the scanner, they opened the door and Buffy and Spike stepped into the most beautiful bedroom that the young Slayer had ever seen. She nearly gaped at the size and the furnishings. The clerk left them and a few minutes later, as they were wandering about the suite, there came a knock on the door. A young man stood there with their bags. Spike gave him a ten-spot for his trouble and they were once again left alone. Walking into the bedroom, they noticed a bottle of obviously expensive champagne chilling in a bucket of ice next to a huge four-poster bed, as well as candles scattered about the room. They exited the romantic scene quickly.

"You know, I've been awake for 36 hours now," Buffy said as she carried her suitcase into the bedroom. "I'm really, really tired."

"How are we going to deal with this sleeping situation, pet?" Spike asked through the closed bedroom door, where Buffy was changing into a tanktop and sweat shorts.

Buffy scanned the room quickly, then smiled. "Bolster pillow."

"What was that, luv?" Spike was immediately thoroughly confused.

"We take the bolster pillow from the couch and put it on the bed between us. The bed is big enough so we'd still have plenty of sleeping room.

"Fair enough," Spike said. "Are you decent? I'd like to go to bed as well."

There was a loud thump as Buffy deposited the bolster onto the bed, and then she opened the door with a smile. Spike took in her disheveled hair, pink tank top, and gray sweat shorts. He had never seen her look sexier. The blond Slayer hopped into bed and curled up on one side of the thick cushion, as he stripped down to the boxers he had thankfully put on underneath his new tuxedo. He crawled in on the other side after having shut off the light, and they soon fell into a deep sleep.

Spike awoke, refreshed, that evening. He noticed something different about his bed. Since when had his concrete slab become soft and comfortable? And was that Buffy he smelled? Opening his eyes, he was faced with a thick bolster pillow. He had wrapped his arms around it like it was a real bedmate. Sighing, he flopped over onto his back, remembering the previous night's events and that he was now on his honeymoon. Too bad I'm not going to get any with my wife, he mused. He padded barefoot into the bathroom and turned on the shower taps, then walked back out into the bedroom to retrieve his toiletries.

Buffy woke to the sound of Spike rummaging around in his bags. She heard the shower running, and silently dashed for the bathroom, quickly stripping down and hopping under the hot spray. She realized when she heard Spike enter the bathroom that she had forgotten to lock the door... and shrieked when he stepped into the shower stall with her.

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