|
This beautiful layout is courtesy of Cally at DOUBLE RAINBOW...
Christmas Eve 2010
~Edenscroft Manor in Devonshire, England~
8:00 p.m.
*’Ave Maria
Gratia Plena
Dominus Tecum
Benedictus Tu...’*
“This is the bloodies’ friggin’ unbelievable sight I’ve ever seen,” Spike slurred although, for once, he managed to keep his voice relatively low. Anya met his eyes as she led Buffy towards the altar where Angel awaited her, resplendent in full white-tie. “A vampire married with Catholic hymnals!”
Cordelia didn’t even turn her head to glare at him, she was disgusted that Spike was already drunk when the reception bar wasn’t even open yet. The blonde vampire must have spent the whole day drinking–it generally took a lot of liquor to get a vampire buzzed, much less tipsy.
“Angel was a Catholic once,” she reminded him through gritted teeth.
“Doesn’t she just look lovely?” a female wedding guest marveled. “They make an enchanting couple!”
*Enchanting...what a peculiarly appropriate word for it.* Although, despite her sour thoughts, Cordelia had to admit the joy on Angel’s face was priceless. She had certainly never made him that happy during their two-year-marriage. It had almost been a relief when they agreed to end it. Now, Cordelia was satisfied that she had done the right thing. She’d never been the settling type and being second choice to a whiny cry-Buffy was definitely settling in her mind.
The central gardens in Edenscroft had been transformed into a winter fantasy world with both witchcraft and wealth. Weather spells to make certain it didn’t snow. Carefully installed hanging heaters under the pavilion canopy to trap a warm pocket of cosiness for the guests before they returned to the house for an elaborate sit-down dinner ball.
It had to be a trick of lighting and the fact that Buffy’s face was covered with a veil as she floated in full skirts towards the great love of her life to knit their souls together legally as well as metaphorically, but Cordelia swore Buffy looked very little changed from the days when she, Cordelia, had lived in Sunnydale over a decade ago. Her thick, lustrous honey-blonde hair flowed in smooth waves down her back beneath the white illusion of her veil. It was really too long to look good on woman nearing thirty but...no...somehow, she looked fresh and perfect.
Her eyes remained fixed ahead, Buffy never swerved or turned away to look at anyone but Angel. She wasn’t smiling and Cordelia frowned at that.
*After everything they’ve been through, after all they mean to each other, Buffy should be crying for joy today.* she thought to herself.
*’..In mulieribus
Et benedictus
Fructus ventre tui, Jesu...’*
The local children’s choir was surprisingly professional, the female soloist an incredibly talented thirteen-old-girl with a plain freckled face and large frightened brown eyes. As beautiful as the gift of her voice was she didn’t care for the attention of performing in public.
*But I don’t understand,* Cordelia wondered. *Why Buffy isn’t happier–or more emotional or something.*
The lady guest to Cordelia’s right just beamed at her, perfectly lined Chanel classic red-lipsticked mouth spreading to reveal slightly crooked teeth.
“Honey, sometimes, no matter how much a woman loves a man, marriage is just a scary thing. Period, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.” She had a rich Southern accent–Georgian maybe–that Cordelia found oddly soothing even though accented English of any kind usually just annoyed her. *Talk American!* was her motto.
Cordelia flashed a plastic smile back to the curly-haired lady but her arched brows swooped downward into a confused frown. She hadn’t thought she’d voiced her opinion aloud.
*’Sancta Maria,
Sancta Maria,
Maria...’*
“Not for thos’ two,” Spike snorted. He watched Anya stand gracefully to one side, clearing the way for the bride to take her place beside her groom. Anya’s smoke-grey velvet gown made her seem almost a shadow in the candlelit semigloom of the altar. Fred smoothed Buffy’s train behind her and stood beside Anya and Buffy handed Anya her rather simple bouquet of miniature blush pink roses. “All they e’er wanted wuz t’be t’gether fore’er wit’out the res’ o’ th’world in their way!”
“Mm Hmm! And now it’s happening!” The charming southern belle agreed. “Fantasies fulfilled can be the scariest thing of all! Imagine getting something you believed you always wanted but never would get?” There was a wealth of satisfaction in her tone.
*’Ora pro nobis
Nobis Senza toribus
En hora
En hora mortis nostrae...’*
A sharp crystal shard of jealousy pierced Spike’s mind as he watched his old poofy grandsire take Buffy’s hand in a proprietary grip. Buffy’s body sidled nearer to Angel’s so that they touched, a casual intimacy he’d once enjoyed with the Slayer himself. He’d loved Buffy for a time and it'd been awful heartache to get over her.
In a way, though, Spike realised, he’d never loved Buffy more than when they ceased being lovers. Her sexual favours had been aggressive, angry, acts of desperation, equivalent to physical attacks. The blonde vampire had tried so hard to ignore her fierce whimpers when they’d coupled like frantic overheated animals.
*”Angel!” And sometimes she’d even cried despairingly, “Angelus!”*
It had been good–beyond good, the Slayer’s body was incredibly beautiful, agile, and strong–but a bloke wanted to be liked for himself and all. Specially if he really liked the girl.
*’Amen....Amen...’*
Spike shook his tipsy head, grabbed a sober second to truly wish Buffy well in his heart.
“Jus’ as well, thos' two can finally be together.” *Like they’d always wanted.*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Christmas Eve 2003~
The Wolfram & Hart Christmas Reception at the Fairmont Hotel in San Francisco...
About 9:15 p.m.
“*I wish that bastard never gave up on her. I wish he loved her so much it ate him up inside. I wish *nothing* ever mattered to him–except her.*” Lilah whispered vehemently, coughing vainly to force the lump out of her throat.
The smarmy Lawrence Welk-esque orchestra struck up a spirited Glen Miller medley and James Riordan chasséd back towards their table. He smiled kindly at Sheila but the hand held out to her was imperious.
“I won’t take no for an answer, young lady!”
Sheila glanced at Lilah concernedly and Lilah waved her on with a brittle smile. Business was business and Riordan was an important man. Lilah wanted to go upstairs to her room, anyway. She had to avoid an unsuitable display of public grief. The Senior Partners probably would not approve. Their very nature was predatory, they preyed upon the weak, and grief was a weakness.
Sheila smiled gleamingly, slowly rising from her seat in the corner where she’d been hiding from her little fan club with Lilah. “You’ve got it, honey!” she said cheerily.
Lilah raised her eyebrows as she rose from the damask-cushioned chair. Riordan, a man with shark-like business tactics, grinned widely and guided Sheila ahead of him onto the intimate dance floor.
"Just what're you so enthusiastically agreeing to with Ms. Morgan, youngling?" Riordan asked the curly-haired woman. She glanced sideways at the old fool and smiled charmingly.
"Lilah Morgan is my mentor, I'm a new associate for Wolfram & Hart--at least on a temporary basis. I've got a freelance job that can be awfully demanding at times."
Sheila fondled a small pendant hanging on a simple leather thong around her neck. Riordan peered down at it curiously, pyramid or diamond-shaped with some runic-looking markings on it. It was out of place with her formal attire. Riordan smiled snidely. If she played her cards well with him, he'd send her some pearls.
"Shame on you, young lady!" he scolded mildly. Sheila's eyes widened slightly, all innocence. "This is a holiday party, not a convention! Talk business with Lilah another day!"
He drew her into his arms and they began to dance lightly to the spirited "In the Christmas Mood" music.
"Actually," Sheila flashed him a nearly perfect smile, "I'm glad Lilah brought up this project today. It's a bit complicated--something I'll need to work on long-term before it can actually happen. So the sooner I get started, the better!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Innocence Anew" (Epilogue)
"Repeat the Sounding Joy" Contents...
Back to Princess Plum Jade's Fan Fiction...
|
