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By Jolene Beasley
James Angus Witherspoon was suffering a severe bout of writer’s block.
He’d never had it this bad before. His highly revered grandmother never had it, according to her own testimony. ‘What on God’s earth is wrong with me?’ He thought, tapping his temples with his fingers as he stared at his one concession to modern technology - his precious laptop computer. The screen flickered at him almost imperceptably, but did not answer. He had to get busy, he had a deadline to meet.
‘Where’s the imagination that used to get me in such trouble?’ He stared at the ceiling, thoroughly disgusted with himself. ‘I’ve never wanted for words.’ He began his block-breaking ritual of self-examination. Usually, a good look at one’s own soul was enough to start the creative juices flowing. But not this time. He sighed, and cradled his head on his arms. Maybe a quick nap...
The telephone interrupted his snoozing. He started, then quickly saved his notes, and answered, almost relieved to set his writing aside for a little while. "Good afternoon, Hilldale Vicarage... oh, hello, Grandmother! How are you feeling today? I was just thinking of you, and here you called..."
His face registered surprise as he listened. Then it gave over to amazement, moved to fond agreement, and finally settled on pleased relief. "No, it is absolutely no trouble to get someone to fill in this weekend. David Hollings has been dying to ever since I bragged about this new congregation... they seem to actually enjoy being preached to... such a novelty, that! Yes, we can be there late Friday evening... whose wedding... what? Now, Grandmother, you’re not joking with me, are you? Yes, I do believe you, of course. I’ll see you around sevenish Friday. Oh, yes, my favorite! I’ll make sure I’m good and hungry, don’t you worry. Take care. Yes, I love you, too, dear. Good-bye."
He hung up the phone, and began to laugh. Throwing his head back, he bellowed across the house to his young wife, "Mary! Darling, you have to come listen to my Grandmother’s latest escapade... she wants me to perform a wedding at Kinsley Hall... she told me some far-fetched, romantic story! You ’ll never believe it!"
His dark-haired wife appeared at the kitchen door, wiping her hands on her jeans. "What is it this time? Marrying monks?"
He laughed again. "No, not monks. Watchers!"
Dame Judith Kinsley-Witherspoon was in her element. She presided over the frenzied activity around her like a queen at her court. No tiny detail escaped her attention. No small puckered seam was overlooked. Seamstresses darted around like bees from one end of the room to the other, seemingly at random. After what seemed like hours of tedious, motionless standing, Buffy gazed into the full length mirror with something akin to awe.
"Now THAT is a wedding dress, my dear girl." Dame Judith was beaming like a proud grandparent. She waved all the girls in the room forward, and began to applaud them happily. Buffy was too busy watching the way the dress swirled around her and listening to the magical whisper of silk, seed pearls and lace. It was an elegant, off the shoulder creation, fitted at the waist and flaring to an impressive train in back. She told herself sternly not to cry, but seeing herself in a beautiful white wedding gown was a dream she never expected to see come true, and she was overwhelmed with joy. Instead of crying, she let out a shaky sigh, and smiled at her reflection. "It’s perfect, Dame Judith." She managed to say.
"Excellent! Now, then, we’ve two more appointments before your family and friends arrive, and I don’t want to keep them waiting. Are you feeling up to a spot of lunch? My friend Agatha has the most charming little inn, and her home-baked bread is like a breath of heaven..." Dame Judith waited just outside the fitting room as the seamstresses removed the gown and disappeared into the back room to finish their handiwork.
After Buffy had dressed, she and her benefactor walked the short distance to the inn, ate a hearty and satisfying meal, and made their next appointment in plenty of time. As she tried on pair after pair of delicately detailed white shoes, her thoughts drifted away, and settled on her favorite subject. Giles had returned to Kinsley Hall as soon as they had gotten their marriage license in town early that morning. ‘I wonder if Rupert is having as much fun as I am right now?’ She giggled to herself. ‘Probably not!’
Giles wasn’t having fun, but at least he felt useful. It was his job to stay at the mansion and meet with the caterer, the florist, and the photographer. He also managed to place what seemed like a hundred phone calls, all related to Sunday’s ceremony. It was mid-afternoon, and he had just finished his to-do list. He decided to wander downstairs and see how matters were progressing with decorations and lighting. Neither was his area of expertise, but he was doing the best he could.
Downstairs, a half-dozen uniformed girls swirled around him, frantically moving chairs and tables, cleaning, rearranging, and talking in hushed tones. He felt distinctly out of place. "I had no idea a wedding was such a tedious affair to arrange," he remarked to the only other male on the premises. Serge the caterer, a slender, dark-skinned man, ignored Giles completely and continued to draw frantic sketches of exactly where the ice sculptures and fountains should go. The pad of paper was covered with hieroglyphics. Giles craned his neck, trying to decipher the writing, and gave up. Probably in Romanian, or maybe Russian. Not familiar at all.
A loud buzz prevented him from following the man out into the next room. Looking around, he found the nearest phone and answered it. It was the photographer. He was running late. The lights would have to be set up tomorrow. Giles wondered if there was really any need for lights at a daytime ceremony, then remembered some of the dreadfully dark and dreary churches he had been in as a child, and agreed with the man’s terms. He’d hate to have no visual record of this extraordinary event.
The telephone rang again almost immediately after he hung up the receiver. He picked up again, and his heart skipped a beat when he heard Buffy’s cheerful voice. "Hey, gorgeous! How are the arrangements coming along?"
He smiled, wishing she was here to approve of things herself, but there was no time. "Uhm, well, the caterer is just about finished drawing a... placement map of some sort, and the photographer is going to come tomorrow, something about lighting in the chapel. And, the carriages are all hired, we have musicians scheduled for the reception, the clothier is coming this evening to fit everyone. The florist and her entourage should be here any minute, all the gifts for the wedding party have arrived safely... and that’ s my entire list. How’d I do?"
"Rupert Giles, you are absolutely *amazing*! Everything sounds great. I knew I fell in love with you for more than your devestating good looks."
He laughed into the receiver. "Well, I try."
"You succeed. We’ve got one more place to go, then we’re coming to get you and make a mad dash for the airport. Sounds like you’ve got everything under control. You are a Prince! See you later." She made a smooching sound into the phone, and hung up.
"I’m a *prince*." He said to the room, a goofy smile on his face. "I can live with that."
The limousine pulled away from Kinsley Hall at exactly 6:30 pm. Buffy wondered why they had to leave so early to meet a 8:30 pm flight. After sitting in bumper to bumper traffic for nearly two hours, she knew exactly why. Too bad Dame Judith didn’t own a helicopter.
The airport was just as busy as the highways had been. They arrived with only minutes to spare, and were soon exchanging hugs, handshakes, kisses, and a variety of noisy greetings with the new arrivals. Joyce, Wilton, Willow and Xander were the only ones who were able to come. Buffy’s father was unavailable, off on a business trip, a fact that didn’t surprise Buffy or Joyce in the least. Faith stayed behind, stating that maybe the new Watcher would arrive while they were gone. Buffy also guessed that Faith was still not comfortable being included in their tightly knit group.
Gathering their luggage, they fought their way through the airport crowd and found their transportation waiting for them at the entrance. The visitors were duly impressed as they piled into the limo. It was designed to hold eight, so there was plenty of room. Buffy proudly introduced her family and friends to Dame Judith, and Buffy’s mother couldn’t help giving the grandmotherly woman a hug.
"Thank you so much for helping my little girl... well, I guess she’s a big girl now, but she’ll always be my little girl to me." Joyce dabbed a kleenex at her eyes, overwhelmed by this stranger’s kindness.
"It was an honor, my dear Mrs. Summers. It’s not every day that one can say that one contributed to a Slayer’s happiness! And you have every right to be proud, she is a lovely young lady." Dame Judith tapped on the window, signaling the driver to start the trip home. "Now, then, I must get further acquainted with my relations from across the pond. Alexander... oh, do forgive me, you prefer Xander, don’t you? Xander, tell me about yourself."
They chatted companionably all the way home, and Buffy noted it took considerably less time to make the return trip. Rush hour was over, the streets were calmer, and she gazed out the window as tall city buildings gave way to quiet countryside. She found herself looking forward to spending her summers in England. It had already found a place in her heart.
After they arrived at the stately manor house, they were met at the door by the clothier and her assistants, ready to fit the men for tuxes and the ladies for gowns. The bustle of activity continued until late, and by the time all the guests had been shown to their rooms for the night, it was well past midnight.
Dame Judith had two rooms made ready for Buffy and Giles, knowing that they wouldn’t want to make the trip back to London so late. Before they retired, Dame Judith casually mentioned that she had a large third-story suite, formerly the master bedroom, that she thought would make a delightful honeymoon suite. She offered to let them stay at Kinsley Hall and use the suite for the rest of their vacation, as she would be leaving on Monday for a trip to Thailand. She insisted that they view the room before deciding, but they both knew they would accept.
*-*-*-*
The next morning the bleary-eyed travelers stumbled downstairs to find the dining room set up with a beautifully laid-out buffet table. It was filled almost to overflowing with meats, vegetables, pastries, waffles, and fruit of every description. Dame Judith and her girls were determined to make this a grand occasion.
The highlight of the morning, however, was Willow’s shocked reaction to seeing Giles with a cup of coffee in his hand. "Ohmigo... Giles! What are you drinking?"
He looked at her blankly. Then he looked at his cup, and back at her again. He was still a little sleepy. "It’s coffee."
"But you don’t drink coffee, Giles! You HATE coffee. You told us that a thousand times. You - hate -coffee. So, *why* are you drinking coffee?"
He began to wonder why, himself. He looked at the cup again, and shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea. I just am."
Buffy’s face lit up with amusement. "I remember the first time I ever saw you drink coffee, Rupert."
He obviously did, too, and blushed. He cleared his throat, and tried to get out of the uncomfortable spot he was in. "Uhm, well, I, ah, oh, dear. I suppose I... I’ve gotten used to it."
"I remember you saying you desperately needed the caffeine."
"Yes, you would remember that, just now."
Xander contributed his two cents worth. "Man, you’re just too *Buffy-whipped* to ask her to make tea instead of coffee."
Buffy giggled and patted Giles’ shoulder consolingly. "He’s just too sweet to say I make better coffee than I do tea."
Willow’s eyes glowed with mischief. "He’s too sweet to say that Buffy’s *corrupted* him."
Giles sighed, giving up on decorum completely. "She has, I’m afraid. In more ways than one."
Xander and Willow burst out laughing. Joyce and Wilton looked at each other and shook their heads. Buffy smiled at her friends’ familiar teasing. She wouldn’t have it any other way.
The remainder of their Friday was spent finishing up a myriad of details. Giles called their London hotel and arranged for their luggage to be brought to Kinsley Hall. The clothier returned in the early afternoon with perfectly fitted gowns and tuxedos. When the photographer and his two assistants arrived, they all piled into two Land Rovers and drove down the carriage trail to get their first look at the little chapel.
It was a beautiful structure of rock and wood, solid and timeless, with tall, slender stained glass windows and brass bound wooden doors dark with age and weather. A light covering of snow had fallen during the night, making the scene even more rustic and lovely. The ancient bell tower still sported a metal bell, and Dame Judith assured them that it was perfectly functional. Hundreds of years seemed to fall away as they stepped into the foyer. High, rough hewn beams held up the gracefully arched ceiling. Ornately carved pews lined the wide aisle. Wood burning stoves stood ready to heat the space, and lanterns hung from every post. The photographer was ecstatic, and immediately began ordering his assistants around, planning his strategy for flooding the area with light.
Though the air was cold, Buffy grew warm inside as she watched Giles walk slowly up the aisle, his breath fogging in front of him. He stepped up to the lecturn, bending slightly to trace a finger along the intricately carved cross on the front. As he turned and faced the seating area she saw a new look on his face... one of wonder, respect, and awe.
She sensed his heartfelt approval, and ran down the aisle to him. "Isn’t it perfect? Oh, it’s so perfect..."
He responded by hugging her tightly, his enthusiasm overcoming his usual reserved manner. He murmured into her hair as he held her close. "Yes, it is absolutely perfect, without doubt." Only the knowledge that eight pairs of eyes were watching kept him from kissing her senseless, right then and there.
The rest of the day was spent finalizing the hundreds of tiny details that no one thought of until the last moment... who will stand where, what napkin rings to use, where should the punch bowl go, and so on until Buffy and Giles were both exasperated and ready to elope. Just as they decided to make a run for it, Dame Judith caught them both by an arm, and guided them down the hall to a small sliding door. "My dears, I need your opinions. The girls are finished with the Master Suite, and they cannot wait to see if it meets with your approval. They’ve worked all day, and I’m sure it is grand." She touched a raised panel with her hand, and a strange squeaking sound could be heard coming from behind the wall.
Giles’ face lit up in recognition at the sound. "This house is equipped with an elevator! How astonishing!"
Buffy couldn’t believe it. She always thought elevators were modern conveniences. Before her eyes, the panel slid open, revealing a wrought iron cage.
Their hostess slid the inner door back, and stepped inside. "One of my more forward-thinking ancestors had the contraption installed so he could transport his marble sculptures up and down without wrenching his back. Father had it electrified in the early sixties."
A distinct clang sounded, and the cage bounced to a stop. As the inner door slid back, the panel leading into the third-floor hall opened, and they found themselves in a large sitting area. Straight ahead, there were two massive doors surrounded by carved wooden casings.
Dame Judith didn’t give them time to examine the entrance. She pushed the doors open wide and stopped just inside, giving a delighted cry as she did. Waving them towards her, she exclaimed, "Oh, my dears! The girls have outdone themselves!"
Just as he promised his grandmother, Vicar James Witherspoon and his wife Mary arrived just before dinner that night. Giles liked him immediately. The young man was much like his older relative... he put people at ease. Buffy and Willow latched onto Mary, and soon found out that she was only eight years older than they were. They chatted away until one of Dame Judith’s girls announced that dinner was served.
James rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "We’ve been waiting all week for some of Grandmother’s special pies. Her recipes are practically fool-proof. I’ve never had a bad one yet, and she’s had a lot of different cooks in her day. Actually, she used to cook them herself, before she became the famous Dame Judith Kinsley-Witherspoon, celebrated author..." He continued his cheerful banter as they walked toward the atrium and another spectacular meal.
Happy conversation continued long after the dinner dishes had been cleared. As the chatter began to wind down, Buffy stood, waiting until she had everyone’s attention. She smiled a little self-consciously, and began her speech, looking at Giles for encouragement. "I... we just want you guys to know how special this is... that you’re all here for us. I also want to thank Dame Judith, who is now my honorary Grandmother forever." She flashed a room-brightening smile at her benefactor, who returned the smile with fondness. "And, so, to make Sunday even more special, we would like to ask you all to do something." She passed a piece of notebook paper and pencil to everyone at the table. At the fearful looks around her, she added quickly, "It’s nothing hard, I promise! I just would like each of you to contribute some words to our ceremony. Don’t make a big deal of it... I don’t want a long, planned monologue. Just a thought, or a feeling. Could you do that? It would mean so much."
Joyce seemed to be on the verge of tears, and nodded, looking at Wilton, who joined her in agreement. Willow and Xander seemed pleased and proud. It was settled. The table fell silent as the group began writing.
Buffy stepped over to the Vicar and his wife. "And, Vicar Witherspoon..."
He held up a hand in protest. "James, please, call me James."
"Okay, James. I need you to put them in the right places in the ceremony. Is that too much of a problem?"
He laughed at that. "My dear girl, compared to writing a rousing sermon on the seven deadly sins, it will be no problem at all. I have all day tomorrow."
Later that night, after everyone else had retired to their rooms, Buffy and Giles stood in the darkened atrium, looking out at the snow-covered night. The clouds had parted momentarily, and a brilliant winter moon bathed the scene in silver light.
"Look, just there... I believe I see our chapel in the moonlight." Giles pointed, running his finger along the glass.
Buffy followed his finger, and glimpsed something that vaguely looked like a church building nestled against the hillside. "I see it." She leaned against his side, staring at the tiny speck in the distance. "We’re gonna get married in that little tiny dot out there on Sunday. Hard to believe, isn’t it?"
He put his arm around her and pulled her close. "Far beyond my wildest dreams." He dropped a kiss on her head, keeping his lips pressed against her hair for a lingering moment.
The Bond between them sang with anticipation.
Saturday morning brought a fresh coating of snow to the landscape, and everyone took the opportunity to sleep late. By eleven o’clock, there were sleepy guests scattered around the drawing room or lingering near the fireplace, drinking hot coffee and nibbling at brunch. Conversation and warmth filled the room. The guests of honor were the last ones to arrive, and had to endure some tag-team teasing from Xander and Willow before they were allowed to eat in peace.
The rehearsal took place in the atrium Saturday evening. Everything was discussed and decided upon, and by the time Buffy flopped down on the bed in her room around midnight, she actually thought she might live through tomorrow after all. A knock at her door interrupted her musings, and she sighed and got up to see who it was.
Joyce peered in, making sure she wasn’t interrupting... anything. "Hi, sweetheart. Just wanted to see how you were doing."
"Great, Mom. Tired, but great. I’m really happy you guys got to come."
"Me too, honey, I wouldn’t have missed it. Are you sure everything is okay? We haven’t had much time to talk... I just want you to know I’m always here, if you need to have an old-fashioned Mother-Daughter talk. About anything." Joyce shrugged her shoulders, trying to convey her thoughts, but feeling like she had failed miserably.
Buffy understood, and hugged her mother tightly. "Oh, Mom, I’m really okay. I’m great. Not nervous, or worried, or scared, or anything. And I don’t need the old night-before-the-honeymoon spiel... I’ve read up on the subject."
Joyce’s face turned an interesting shade of red. Buffy instantly regretted taking her mother’s concerns so lightly. She patted Joyce’s hand and held it for a moment before continuing.
"Aw, I’m sorry, that was callous. It’s just... well, I’m not an innocent virgin, and Giles is a pretty grown-up guy, and, well, I just feel weird discussing sex with my Mom. No offense."
"I know, honey. It’s silly, but I guess it’s a Mom Thing. I just want to be sure you’re comfortable with everything." She shrugged again, unable to find the words to express herself properly. She took a deep breath, and blurted out the main thing that was on her mind. "Uh, you two haven’t been, I mean, you haven’t... uh, haven’t..."
Buffy started giggling. "*Geez*, Mom! No, we haven’t ‘uh’ yet! When would we ‘uh?’ Between classes, or between vampires? The two things keep us busy night and day! We had to *retire* just to have time to ‘uh!’"
Joyce looked down at her hands, pleased in spite of her self-proclaimed "modern" outlook on sex. Then a thought occurred to her, and she looked up at her daughter with amazement. "He was willing to wait? Um, that’s, that’s amazing. And... a little surprising."
"Actually, he’s the one that wanted to wait... to give us time to, I don’t know, grow together, maybe? He always knows how to say these things perfectly, and I never can, it comes out hokey." She smiled to herself, thinking of him, and felt his warm presence in her mind. She could sense him nearby, even in his sleep. She suddenly wanted very much for her mother to understand the deep committment she had for her husband-to-be. "Did I ever explain to you about the... connection between Giles and me?"
"I know what I’ve overheard from Willow and the others, and just the little you’ve mentioned. I’m not sure I understand it."
"Okay, I’m gonna try to be Detail Girl and give you all the facts, just the facts Ma’am. You’re probably not gonna believe most of it... but just try, okay?"
Joyce nodded soberly. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear all the ‘gory details,’ but if her daughter wanted to talk, she was going to listen, no matter how uncomfortable she got.
Buffy began with the trip to the Elysian Fields riding stable, telling her own unique condensed version of what had happened in the past two years, and ending with the Council decision a few days ago. Joyce found herself intrigued. The story had her wincing more than a few times, but she listened gamely, and was proud and relieved when Buffy finished.
‘No wonder Buffy didn’t want a big, exciting wedding.’ Joyce thought to herself. ‘She’s already had enough excitement for two lifetimes!’
After she finished with her narrative, Buffy yawned and stood, taking her mother’s arm and steering her towards the door. "Now, Mother-Confessor, I need sleep. I’m gettin’ hitched tomorrow, and I wanna be able to stay awake for the ceremony. Okay?" She kissed her mother’s cheek lightly. "G’night, Mom."
Joyce couldn’t resist one more hug before she started down the hall. "I love you, Buffy."
"I love you too, Mom. Sleep good, and... thanks."
*-*-*-*-*
As if to honor the occasion, the Sunday morning sun shone brilliantly in the clear, blue sky. Frosty breath billowed from the carriage horses’ nostrils as the wedding party made its way toward the little chapel in the meadow. There were three shining coaches in the procession: One for Buffy and the other ladies, one for Giles and the men, and one for the photographers and their tangle of equipment and batteries. The bevy of young girls in Dame Judith’s employ had been at the chapel since dawn, cleaning, arranging, and heating the church. Now they sat in their starched uniforms, whispering and giggling, waiting for the action to begin.
Buffy shivered and pulled the warm fur-lined cloak closer around her. Thank heaven for Dame Judith and her extensive wardrobe... she had provided everyone with something warm to wear for the short ride. Buffy smiled ruefully... a carriage ride to your wedding was a lot more romantic when it wasn’t freezing outside. But, she really didn’t mind... the trip back would be a lot more fun, for then she’d be snuggling up next to her husband.
When they arrived at their destination, the men exited their coaches first and began helping the photographer with his lights and stands. When they finished, they took their places and waited for the signal to begin. The photographer set up quickly, and in just minutes, gave a nod. The little church lit up like Easter Sunday, and seemed to come alive. A wide grin spread across Giles’ face. ‘What a beautiful chapel this is,’ he thought, letting the serenity of the place soak into his soul. ‘And what a lucky man I am...’
Outside in the foyer, Buffy echoed his smile. Willow saw her expression change, and nudged Buffy’s arm questioningly. "What’s that smile for?"
Buffy’s face turned dreamy as the Bond sent waves of happiness through her. "Rupert... he’s having way major happy thoughts."
Willow gave her a warning scowl. "Hey! Save it until *tonight*!" Before Buffy could reply, Wilton opened the inner doors, and announced that they were ready to begin. Willow and Joyce hugged the bride quickly before moving up the short aisle to take their places. Dame Judith seated herself beside one of the girls, a proud and pleased look on her face. Wilton waited a moment, then held out his arm to escort Buffy down the aisle.
This was Buffy’s moment. She didn’t need a wedding march, or a processional, or rose petals strewn in her path. She was going to marry the man of her dreams. There was music in her heart...
Giles waited patiently for the doors to open again. When they did, his knees almost gave way. His love moved gracefully toward him in brilliant white. He felt as though he was looking into the sun. As she reached the altar, Wilton released her and placed her hand on the groom’s arm.
The sight of him, standing there, waiting for her, brought a rush of tender yearning to her heart. The tux accentuated his trim body and broad shoulders. An expression of wonder softened his face. When he smiled, joy reverberated between them like a physical thing. She gazed into his eyes, and felt completely at peace.
James took his place behind the wooden pulpit, beaming at his small congregation. He was in his element, where he felt most at ease. It was a sure sign of his calling. He opened his book, adjusted his glasses, and began.
"No matter how often I utter these words, I will never cease to be amazed at their power. They join two people into one, two halves into a whole. Although I have only just met Rupert and Buffy, I sense that they are already one in spirit. So, in their honor, I shall begin with words rich in tradition yet fresh in meaning.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God and these witnesses to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God in Paradise, and into which these two persons present come now to be joined.
"Therefore if any man can shew any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace." James held his head high for a split second, then nodded, and continued.
"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"
Joyce spoke first, her voice slightly shaky. "As her mother, I cannot give her away. She belongs to herself. But, I can give her my support, my blessing, and my love." She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, stepped back and sat on the second pew, symbolically letting her little girl take front stage.
Wilton’s rich baritone rang out with confidence. "As her step-father, I am new to this family, and cannot attest to what is past. However, I can pledge to Buffy, for the future, my best wishes, my support, and my love." He moved over and sat down next to Joyce, put his arm around her, and gave her a supportive squeeze.
Giles reached for Buffy’s right hand, holding it in his.
The Vicar continued. "Rupert, will you take this woman to be your wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep only unto her, so long as you both shall live?"
There was no uncertainty in Giles’ voice as he answered, "I will."
"Buffy, and will you take this man to be your husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep only unto him, so long as you both shall live?"
Buffy looked at Giles for any signs of doubt. Seeing and feeling only peace, she smiled. "I will."
"The first part of this ceremony is considered a formal betrothal, a promise, entered into by both this couple and their family and friends. The giving away of the bride is symbolic of the beginning of a new relationship. a new family is beginning this day. It will have its own traditions, its own memories, and its own path to follow.
"The next part, the vows, constitutes the binding of two wills and two hearts into an unbreakable bond. If it is done in truth, with no deceit and no doubt, it is eternal. The bride and groom have elected to write their own vows to reflect their rather unique relationship. Rupert, will you now recite your vows?"
Giles cleared his throat, and spoke from memory. "I, Rupert Giles, make this solemn promise before God and these people, who have become closer to me than my own family. I was chosen to walk beside you, Buffy Summers. As your Watcher, I was chosen to make you stronger. Now, as your husband, I choose to love you and to make you happy. This, I pledge to do... from this day forward; for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish; I pledge my life to you; again; forever."
Willow began to sniff, and fumbled for a tissue. James nodded at Buffy, his eyes kind and encouraging. "Buffy, will you now recite your vows?"
She took a shaky breath, never confident of her memorization skills, and began. "I, Buffy Summers, make this solemn promise before God and my family and friends, including my newest friends, who made all this possible by helping two strangers in need. I have never looked for anything good, honorable, kind, and loving that I didn’t find in your eyes, Rupert Giles. I was chosen to walk beside you. As the Slayer, I was chosen to learn from you, but now I also choose to love you and make you happy. This I pledge to do... from this day forward; for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish; I pledge my life to you; forever." She relaxed visibly, a tear trickling down her cheek as the words she spoke echoed in her heart.
James winked at Xander, cueing him to hand over the rings. Xander’s face registered shock as he patted his pockets in panic... of course, he was joking, and shortly he handed the smaller ring to the Vicar with a smirk. Winking at Giles, he intoned, "And *I* was chosen to bring levity to the whole sitch." A ripple of merriment passed through the small crowd. Buffy giggled as Giles rolled his eyes patiently. Let the boy have his fun...
James held up the gold band, its set of sparkling diamonds flashing in the bright light. "The ring has always been a symbol of eternal love. It is precious, a rare commodity. It is an endless circle. It is visible, a reminder of the pledges made here today. Rupert, take this ring, place it on the third finger of Buffy’s left hand, and repeat these words after me..."
Giles repeated the promise without a stutter as he held her hand in his. "With this Ring I thee wed... with my body I thee honor... and with all my worldly goods I thee endow... In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."
Buffy took the larger, plainer ring from Xander. She repeated the vows, smiling and winking saucily at Giles when she got to the body-honoring part. It was all James could do to keep from laughing at the poor groom’s expression. He liked this girl; she reminded him so much of his Mary... demure, but feisty.
He brought himself back to attention, and continued. "At this point, I believe Willow Rosenberg has a favorite scripture to share."
She nodded, and caught the surprise in Buffy’s eyes. Willow’s smug expression did not change as she spoke. "This is a quote from the Song of Songs." She took a deep breath, and half-closed her eyes, seeing the words as she said them. "Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy as unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame. Many waters cannot quench love, rivers cannot wash it away. If one were to give all the wealth of his house, to exchange it for love, it would be utterly inadequate, for love is beyond price."
Before Buffy could recover from Willow’s words, Xander stepped up and faced his two friends, a red rosebud in each hand. Solemnly, he handed one to Buffy, and the other to Giles. As he stepped back into place, he couldn’t resist giving the groom a friendly nudge. Giles smiled in response, suddenly glad that wise-cracking Xander had been able to join them. It wouldn’t have been the same without him.
James waited until the silent exchange was over before continuing. "Your gift to each other on this special day has been your wedding rings - an outward demonstration of your vows of love and respect, a public showing of your commitment to each other. You now have the most honorable titles that exist between a man and a woman - the titles of ‘husband’ and ‘wife.’
"The rose has always been considered a symbol of love, and a single rose always meant one thing... ‘I love you.’ So, it is therefore appropriate for your first gift to each other, as husband and wife, should be a single rose."
At the Vicar’s nod, they raised their roses toward each other, but instead of formally exchanging them, Buffy slid the soft petals of the bud down Giles’ cheek and touched his lips for a lingering moment before offering it to him. He mimicked her actions, and their shared connection vibrated between them so strongly that James could almost feel it. He made a mental note to ask for an explanation later, whether he got one or not.
After the exchange was complete, the Vicar gathered his thoughts, found his place in his book, and began to bring the ceremony to a close. "A moment ago, you were holding one small rose, and now, you are still holding one small rose. In some ways, marriage is like this... very often tomorrow is going to seem no different than yesterday. But, today, just now, you have both given and received one of the most valuable and precious gifts of life - one I hope you will always remember - the gift of true and abiding love.
"Rupert and Buffy, where ever you make your home in future, whether it be a mansion or a cottage, I would ask you to pick a special location for roses, so that on each anniversary of this wonderful occasion you both may take a rose to that spot, as a recommitment to each other that this marriage is based on love.
"And, since it is easiest to hurt the one we love most, if it becomes difficult to say ‘I am sorry’ or ‘I forgive you’; ‘I need you’ or ‘I am hurting’, if this should happen, then leave a rose at that spot you have selected - for that rose will say the things you cannot, and overpower all other things and all other words by saying ‘I still love you.’ Let the other accept this rose in place of the words that cannot be found, and remember the love and hope you both share today.
"If there is anything you remember of this marriage ceremony, let it be that love brought you here today, it is only love that can make it a glorious union, and it is by love that your marriage shall endure."
Xander again stepped forward, holding a slender crystal bud vase. Giles and Buffy placed their roses carefully into it, and faced each other, their eyes locking, a relieved smile on their faces.
"Rupert and Buffy, in so much as the two of you have agreed together in Holy Matrimony, by vow, by the joining of your hands, and by the giving of these rings, I now declare you to be Husband and Wife. What God has joined together, let no one put asunder." Seeing the look in the newlyweds’ eyes, he left off the last formal statement, and said cheerfully, "You don’t really need my permission, but you may now kiss, if you’d like."
Buffy looked up into her husband’s face. "I’d very much like."
Giles smiled and complied, kissing her sweetly and thoroughly. Their eyes met again, briefly, then they turned towards their family and friends.
James raised his hands in benediction. "The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make his face to shine upon you, and give you peace. Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Rupert Giles!"
The small group exploded into applause, and gathered around the front of the church, laughing, crying, talking, trading kisses, hugging and congratulating. Suddenly, the ancient bell began to toll, and everyone hushed at the sound. After a moment, Xander sauntered back into the chapel, trying to look nonchalant. He gestured toward the back of the church, and said, "Well, Auntie Judith said it worked, so I just had to try it. And guess what? She was right!" Buffy smiled as the tolling slowed and stopped. It seemed a fitting recessional in this fairy-tale setting.
Suddenly, Xander snapped his fingers. "I forgot Faith’s message!" he reached into his pocket, pulling out a torn piece of notebook paper. He studied it for a moment, then, when he was certain all eyes were on him, he held it up and read it aloud. "Dear Giles and B. Let’s Party!"
And party, they did.
*-*-*-*-*
The atrium was decorated with an amazing array of white, silver, and blue. It seemed to blend into the snow-covered landscape outside the glass walls, making the space seem to go on forever. They danced, they ate and drank, they celebrated. Joyce and Willow took turns bursting into tears. The newlyweds were toasted over and over, sometimes honorably, but mostly in exuberant, and embarrassing, mischief. It was a glorious day.
Buffy was a little sad to see her mother and friends change clothes and gather their belongings. Goodbyes were said, and luggage was loaded into the limousine. For Wilton, Willow, and Xander, college was starting up again in the morning, and they all needed to get home. Still, not one of them was sorry they had come. They had shared something magical, and they would never forget it.
Dame Judith, being the romantic soul that she was, arranged to take Joyce, Wilton, Willow and Xander to London for dinner before they caught their flight back to Sunnydale. As the group headed for the door, calling their farewells, their diminuative hostess stayed behind, a twinkle in her eyes. "Now, then, my dears, you have the house to yourselves. I can promise you I shall be back quite late." She giggled behind her hand like a school girl. "Chloe and Miranda are in the East Wing if you need them, not that you should need anyone tonight but each other..." she giggled again. "I shall see you - sometime - before I leave tomorrow afternoon." She blew them a kiss, and closed the door.
Buffy and Giles heard the limousine drive away, and looked at each other, suddenly feeling a bit shy and awkward. He reached for her small hand, holding it as though it were made of fine china, and led her toward the ancient wrought iron elevator just off the main hall. He didn’t feel like wasting time and energy climbing two flights of stairs...
When they pushed open the carved doors to the Master suite, they found a cozy fire, candles and lanterns lighting the room. The delicate scent of dried lavender, roses, and spices wafted towards them from the floral arrangements scattered everywhere. On the king-sized bed, the coverlet, blanket and sheets were turned back invitingly. A bottle of champagne sat chilling on a low table next to the loveseat, and two glasses with silver ribbons adorning the stems sparkled in the flickering light. The two rosebuds in their crystal vase sparkled in the center the table. Dame Judith indeed had an eye for details.
Buffy turned back to the doors, pushing them shut. There was a key waiting in the lock, so she turned it, hearing a soft click as the bolt slid into place. She hung the key by its ribbon on a hook by the door, then slowly turned to face her true love. He was standing by the fire, his glasses reflecting the golden glow of the flames, his hands in his pockets. He looked up, and smiled. Her heart did its now familiar flip-flop in response. She certainly didn’t need champagne to get her giddy... she was already there. One word danced between them, their thoughts in perfect agreement. ‘*Finally*...’
"Hello, Husband," she said softly.
"Hello, Wife."
Her eyes feasted on his trim figure. He always looked devastatingly gorgeous in a tux. But this time... this was different. Her heart skipped another beat as the realization sank in... he was hers, now... no restrictions, no reservations. She grew slightly light-headed at the thought.
She took a step towards him, then stopped, a teasing expression crossing her face. "I never did get to ask you... how do you like my dress?" She turned slowly, mimicking her actions on Senior Prom night the spring before. The rustling of silk and netting filled the quiet room. When she again faced him, he had taken a step away from the fire, and shadows hid his face from her view.
"It is lovely, but only because you’re wearing it. The most beautiful gown on earth could never do you justice." His voice, low and husky with emotion, sent shivers of pleasure up and down her back. She took another step forward, savoring the rush of desire that emanated from him. It pulled at her, wooing her, and she bit her lip, trying her best to let him set the pace of this night. He had taught her the value of taking time to savor each moment, and she had learned the lesson well.
Curbing her natural impatience, she breathed, "Have I told you just how much I love you, Rupert?"
"Yes, but I shall never tire of hearing it." He hoped fervently that his overworked heart wouldn’t give out on him, as frantically as it was beating now. He felt as if he were on fire, and almost glanced behind him to be sure he hadn’t stepped into the fireplace. His head was spinning with the intensity of their joined emotions.
Buffy took another step, and her eyes strained to see his face in the dim light. "I love you so much, I can’t imagine living without you. You are a part of me, you complete me. You’re strong when I’m not strong, loving when I don’t feel lovable, compassionate when I don’t deserve it. You make me whole, Rupert Giles. You fill me up..." A tear glistened in the candlelight as it trailed down her face.
He didn’t think he was any longer capable of coherent speech. Taking a shuddering breath, he tried anyway. "Have I told you, my dearest Buffy, how much I love you?" His voice was gravelly with emotion. He stepped toward her, desire causing his hands to tremble at his sides. He could see her face clearly in the soft light, could see a tear track glistening on her cheek.
"Tell me again..." She closed her eyes, waiting for him to speak, to hear his wonderful voice say what she longed to hear...
"I, I hardly know where to begin, my love. I was born to walk by your side. I could no more leave you than I could will the world to stop spinning. Your name is written on every particle of my being... You are my reason for living. You..." His voice dropped so low that she had to take another step and lean forward to hear. "You are my soul."
One final step took him to within inches of her, and he clenched his fists, hanging on to his tenuous control. Looking at her upturned face, her closed eyes, he suddenly decided not to drag things out any further. One hand went to her cheek, tracing the path the tears had taken. A smile lit her features, and she opened her eyes, feeling his breath against her skin. How she loved that feeling... She gazed into his eyes, losing herself in their depths. After a long, hungry look, his gaze lowered, and he slowly leaned down to touch his lips to hers.
Buffy’s arms wrapped around his neck, and she stood on tip toes to get as close as possible to those tender lips. Their tongues tangled as they deepened the kiss, and his hands ran all around her back, finding the zipper on her gown and lowering it carefully. The heavy material slid down with a whisper to pool at her feet. Without breaking the kiss, Buffy stepped out and away from the expanse of white, turning him slightly toward the bed. She thought, vaguely, that she should probably hang the expensive garment up, but heard his amused dismissal of that idea in her head, and happily forgot about the dress.
Her small fingers deftly untied his tie slid it out from under his collar, draping it across the back of the loveseat. With her help, he shrugged the jacket off, and felt her fumble with the tiny buttons on his shirt. Soon his chest was bare and she was reacquainting herself with the feeling of soft hair and warm skin against her palms. She traced gently around his bandaged shoulder, then kissed his shoulder blade. Slowly, she made her way to his neck, burying her face in the soft flesh below his chin. Eyes closed, he inhaled her scent - vanilla, mixed with lavender and rose. When she suddenly nipped his neck, he gasped and shuddered as he pulled her tightly against him.
She smiled into his shoulder, and whispered, "If that turns you on, you’re gonna love what’s next."
He took off his glasses and set them on the mantle. "I’m quite sure I will."
"I’m afraid I’m going to take shameless advantage of you, Mr. Giles." Her hands drifted downward toward the waistband of his trousers.
His breath caught in his throat, but he managed to whisper, "By all means, please do."
Buffy smiled possessively as her nimble fingers sent his remaining clothes to the floor around his feet. He stood as still as he was able, allowing her to explore him at will. It was a difficult task; her hands and lips seemed to be touching him everywhere at once. He could feel her delight as his body responded to her slightest touch. When he could stand no more, he stopped her investigation with a lingering kiss. He made short work of her remaining garments, leaving them piled next to his on the floor. They kissed deeply, clinging to each other as they stepped around the scattered clothing and edged towards the bed.
The farther they got from the fireplace, the greater the chill in the room became. Buffy shivered as the cold air touched her bare skin. Giles felt her tremble as they reached the huge four-poster bed, so he quickly pushed the covers aside, picked her up and placed her in the center. Joining her, he slid the blankets up around them and wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in his heat. His lips caressed hers gently as her shaking stopped. He intensified the kiss and moved over her as she began to moan into his mouth.
He paused for a moment and gazed down at her, small and warm beneath him. Her pupils were so large and dark that her eyes looked almost black. His entire existence was embodied in those eyes. He tried to put together a coherent thought to express his feelings. Before he could manage that monumental task, Buffy whispered, "We’re ready for this now, aren’t we?"
"Oh, yes, dearest, I believe we are." A flood of relief overwhelmed him, and he smiled down at her radiant face. He kissed her slowly, letting delicious tension build as they began to lose themselves in the empathic connection that surrounded them. His love for her spilled from him in wordless rapture. He did his best to go slowly, wanting their first time to be perfect, but as his passion grew, his actions became more urgent. She responded eagerly, encouraging him with small sounds as with lips and hands he worshipped every inch of her willing body. The Bond sizzled and sang, connecting them as the frustration of waiting and wanting dissolved into this perfect moment, this blissful union, and they came together as one.
All his doubt about his ability to please her vanished as she cried out his name in release. He felt her ecstasy mingle with his own, and he shouted with pure joy as he joined her. Wave after rapturous wave spread over them and through them as they clung to each other, overwhelmed by the intensity of their shared feelings. Their bodies shuddered and pulsed with the echoes of their pleasure, reacting physically to the intense emotional outpouring that engulfed them. Time lost all meaning as their souls entwined until they were no longer two separate beings, but two halves of a whole.
Giles pulled the coverlet closer around Buffy’s shoulders as they lay cuddled together, warm and tired from their lovemaking. For a long time, he just held her, eyes closed, soaking up her warmth. He was still experiencing a bewildering rush of emotions that almost rivaled their earlier passion... joy, gratitude, love, wonder, delight, tenderness. He finally opened his eyes and watched as her breathing returned to normal and her heartbeat slowed to a steady, relaxed pace.
She raised her head and gazed back into his emerald eyes with equal wonder. Her fingertips caressed his neck, feeling the strong pulse of life beneath her fingers. "Rupert, you are so amazing."
"*We* are amazing..." he corrected, his eyes never leaving her face. "...we are *one*."
She moved her hand from his neck to his face, lightly tracing his lips, enjoying the shape and feel of them. Happiness welled up inside her and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. "I love you..." she whispered, her voice catching with emotion. He repeated the words with a smile, his words barely audible yet perfectly clear.
As she touched him, he was mildly surprised to find his passion rising yet again, and he moved his head to brush his lips against her face, first kissing her forehead, then her nose, then sliding his lips across her cheek. When he reached her mouth she responded eagerly, opening up to him and twining her tongue with his. The Bond began to hum once again with desire. Finally, she began to feel lightheaded, and she broke the kiss to grab some air, moaning, "Oh, *baby*..."
For some reason, that struck him as funny. He started chuckling and held her tighter. She could feel him laughing, but she didn’t really know why. Her brain was still busy trying to process what had just occurred between them. As she snuggled against his chest, she murmured, "What’s so funny?’
"You. You called me ‘baby’."
"And that’s funny because...?"
"Well, it’s just that, *you* calling *me* ‘baby’, ah, it sounds a bit... backwards."
"You don’t want me to call you ‘baby’?"
"You may call me anything you like, my love."
She hitched herself up to kiss him, then murmured against his lips, "Oh, baby, baby, baby..." She started giggling herself. "You silly man. Now I’m gonna laugh every time I call you ‘baby’."
"You’d best call me something else, then, or you might become distracted, and forget what you were doing."
"Hmmm, okay, *babe*. What was I doing?"
"Kissing me."
"Oh, right. How could I forget that?" She proceeded to remedy the situation with renewed enthusiasm.
It was his turn to gasp for air. He rested his forehead against hers, and remarked breathlessly, "We’re not going to get a bit of sleep tonight, are we?"
"Not if I can help it. But, just think, we can call for breakfast in bed if we want."
"I think that’s a marvelous idea. But I do have a feeling we’d better make it lunch."
* * *