Boy, you guys are hard to satisfy. Too short, indeed! Maybe I should just post this up one paragraph at a time...Just kidding. This next part is considerably longer, packed with all sort of goodness, but there is the angsty part at the end. There. You were warned.
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Part 7(c)
Tara looked at the bouquet in her hand, then over at Willow holding a garter. "Do you have the feeling we've been set up?"
Willow smiled ruefully. "Totally."
After the ceremony, the wedding party and guests went outside, which due to Anya's good planning was just darkening after sunset, leaving Angel to breathe a sigh of relief. The single females were told to form into a group to catch the bouquet; Dawn was enthusiastic about joining this congregation until her older sister grabbed her left ear and hauled her to safety ("Ow! Hey! These aren't clip-ons, y'know!"). Willow moved to join them, but Xander held her back. "Uh-uh, Will. You aren't dressed for this occasion." She rolled her eyes but said nothing.
Anya shushed the chattering women and told them to get ready. "And you…" she added, pointing to Tara, "no, uh," she pinched her nose and wiggled it back and forth quickly, in tribute to Darrin Stevens of Bewitched.
"N-no…holding my breath?" Tara answered, in her best uncertain dumb-blonde style. Most of the other girls rolled their eyes in bemusement, missing the small crooked smile on the maid of honor's face. Across the way, the best man winked at her.
"I'll try not to hurt you too bad, Cordy," Buffy muttered as she set herself like a power forward going for the ball.
"Hurt…moi?" Cordelia said in exaggerated style. "I'll have you know, Miss Slayer Thang, that Angel's been teaching me self-defense, and says I've been getting really good."
"Oh really?" Buffy said in mock-incredulity. "And just what is your weapon-of-choice…eyelash curler with a laser-sighting?" She turned to face the former cheerleader.
Cordelia similarly turned, using her height advantage to try to intimidate Buffy, for what it was worth, that is to say, not much. "I don't need no laser-sighting for my foot to find your overblown butt!"
"Bring it on, sham glam!"
"Here it comes!" Anya tossed the bouquet over her shoulder, making it travel a perfectly-executed arc towards Tara. While the blonde wiccan really had no interest in making an scramble for the bouquet, the fact that it was heading right for her (and, tradition held, that it was bad luck to drop it) made her hold out her hands and catch it.
Buffy and Cordelia stared open-mouthed at Tara with the bouquet in her hands, turned back to one another and in perfect unison cried, "Look what you made me do!"
"Okay, here are the ground rules," Xander said to the assembled single men, which he insisted Willow be a part of ("Hey…it's not a 'gay' thing," he explained to her, "it's a 'if the rented suit fits' thing.") after relieving Anya of the one of the ceremonial garters she wore on her legs. "No biting, no staking, no crossbows, no superstrength and no funky martial arts. Got it, Will? Now, for the rest of you…" he trailed off as the guys disintegrated into howling schoolboys. "Here we go!" He shot the garter into the air like a rubber band during junior high midterms, and watched as Angel, Wesley, Gunn, Oz, Giles, three of Xander's cousins and his uncle Rory all dove for it with the grace of the Three Stooges on methamphetamines.
Just before the garter hit the ground, a metal cane swept up and managed to catch it right next to the rubber tip. The women cheered and laughed, and the guys made whooping sounds of appreciation, as Willow triumphantly held the garter aloft.
Later, they had taken wedding party photographs and had all moved to the reception (the Bronze, actually, which the happy couple had paid a small fortune to reserve exclusively for the occasion), Tara sat in a chair and hiked up her skirt. Willow, with a small amount of difficult, managed to kneel before her to put the garter on her leg.
Appreciate wolf-whistles abounded, though not exclusively from the men. Tara blushed, but Willow managed a cheeky grin in return. She turned towards Tara. "You're not nervous, are you?"
"N-no," Tara replied uncertainly. "You promise not to get fresh?" she asked with a hopeful grin.
Unfortunately, Willow didn't quite take it so jovially. Unable to look Tara in the eye, she removed the right shoe, and slid the garter over the stocking-clad foot and ankle. "I dunno. Are my promises, like, worth anything these days?"
Tara stiffened, trying to keep from wincing. Willow noticed her change in posture, and immediately regretted her words. "Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one," she muttered, sounding like a maitre'd.
Tara chuckled. Heartened, Willow laughed too, as she slid the garter over Tara's knee.
*************
The night wore on quite well, so well that when Spike decided to crash the party, he was given only token resistance.
"Ah, come on, then," Spike countered after the third or fourth insult from Buffy or Angel. "I'm not here to make trouble, I just came to help the happy couple celebrate this, this glorious occasion. I mean, I love weddings…"
"Oh, no," Tara moaned. "Not the him-and-Drusilla-in-Sicily story again."
Spike did a take. "Told you that story, did I?"
Willow recited: "Blah blah, 1962, blah blah, crashed the reception, blah blah, gunmen, rival family, blah blah, Drusilla beating the Godfather to death with his own arm…"
"Yeah, I forgot that part," Spike said, reminiscing.
Angel shook his head. "Dru always had a thing for Italian food."
"HooOO-kay!" Xander said, "Calling a halt to the This is Your Un-Life road show. Spike – I can't believe I'm saying this – you can come in, but so help me, you make any trouble or cause any mess that a broom or a mop can't handle, and I will personally make sure your ashes are scattered on Barry Manilow!"
The bleach-blonde vampire shuddered theatrically, made his promises, collected a drive-by kiss from the bride, and proceeded to bitch about the fact that this was a 'dry' reception. "No booze? What kinda wedding doesn't have no booze."
"Hey, Spike, my parents are, uh, 'Recovering'…"
"Yeah, I know they're recovering, you actually managed to get married, what a shocker, but what's that got to do with…"
*************
"When Xander asked me to be best man," Willow began, indicating the groom sitting beside her at the head table, "I,uh, realized that I might have to do something resembling Public Speaking. Not my strong suit, as Xander and Buffy can attest to, given my performance of Oedipus Rex." Pause for dutiful laughter. "Really, I just have a few comments here," she continued, reaching into her jacket and pulling out an enormous pack of index cards. She smiled as the audience groaned. "Gotcha.
"I've known Xander since we were kids. Friends through thick and thin, as they say, although nobody says thin what or thick what. I've always known that he…has a certain passion for life," she said this with a meaningful look his way. Down near the other end of the table, Buffy covered her mouth to contain her laughter.
"I knew Xander would always want a woman who shared his 'passion for life.' Well, we all know the old saying: Be careful what you wish for, because you might get it!
"Anya…what can I say? We didn't meet under the best of circumstances, and in the time since then we've totally had our problems. And, in all honesty, and because there are way too many witnesses sitting here, I can't say that I was completely innocent in our troubles. It took the death of…a good friend, to show me that this woman here is not merely the recipient of Xander's passions, but is both something of an innocent, as well as…a very old soul. I hope to be a better friend to her, now more than ever.
"In conclusion (and I know some of you out there are muttering 'Thank God'), I just want to say that…sometimes, fate decrees that two people who love each never get the chance to make each other happy. And sometimes, if we're lucky, we can get happiness when fate's not looking, and give it a major wedgie." The audience, particularly the younger members (but also including Spike, which says something about him) laughed heartily.
"A toast!" she said, lifting her glass of Martinelli's. "To Xander and Anya: may they love as long as they live and live as long as they love!"
Wesley shouted, "Bravo!"
"Hear hear!" added Giles.
"Too right!" Spike concluded.
*****************
One of the many battles that Xander and Anya had fought during the planning of the wedding was the song that they would dance their first dance to as husband and wife. It had been quite a task for Xander to dissuade Anya from her first choice, the Divinyl's "Touch Myself." She had been equally adamant against most of the power ballads from the various alternative bands that he liked.
In the end, the spirit of compromise led them back to the classics, or more exactly, at Wesley's suggestion, the Beatles:
"There are places I remember,
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone, and some remain,
"All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life, I've loved them all."
After their dance, various guests and party members took their turns dancing with the groom and bride, the latter in particular being surprised and pleased to learn of a particular custom at weddings: "You mean, people are supposed to stuff money in my dress and Xander's suit? Nobody told me about this! This is great! Xander, let's renew our vows, like next month!"
While dancing with Buffy, Xander noticed the expression on her face, not precisely sad as contemplative. "Penny for 'em, Buff?"
"Well, you look like you can afford it," she commented drily on the various bills hanging out of his pockets. In answer, he plucked out one and handed it to her. "Nah, keep it. No, it's just…" she hesitated, then decided to plunge forth. "Would you be terribly mad or…inappropriately aroused if, uh, I thought you might be The One That Got Away?"
Xander smiled. "Actually, I think 'extremely flattered' would be the box I'd check." He looked into the eyes of his dearest friend, his hero and his would-be old flame. "Six years ago you told me the truth, that we weren't meant to be. Sometimes one person just knows that. It might take time, but the other person eventually catches up."
Buffy smiled, then leaned into him and hugged him hard (being careful not to crack any ribs, because he might need them for the wedding night). She then released him and said, "When I came back…I thought that not being in heaven was so terrible. It took me a while, but I realized that not being here, with you guys, would mean missing this day, and Dawn growing up, and so many other things." She shrugged. "Heaven can wait."
"That's what Warren Beatty says."
A few yards away, Anya danced with Angel, both of them sneaking quick looks at Xander and Buffy. The fourth time, they caught each other doing so and chuckled. Anya smiled at the vampire. "I'm not worried. Xander and Buffy are just good friends."
Angel nodded. "I know." He turned serious, though not somber. "You really do have the best man in the world there, Anya. If nothing else, he'll always make sure you're happy. And if you tell him I said that—"
"Yeah, yeah, horrible vengeance. I wrote the book on that, remember? Now quit stepping on my feet."
Giles, after getting his turn with Anya, next asked Buffy, with obvious trepidation, for a dance. She wasn't quite able to keep the reluctance out of her voice as she accepted, and it was a full minute before Giles could broach the subject that had been on his mind for months. "Um, Buffy, I just wanted to say…well, what I mean…(sigh)…I just wanted…" She saw the impatient look on her face. "You're angry with me, aren't you?" It was more a statement than a question.
"Gee, why should I be? I mean, you take off for jolly old England right when I need you most. What the hell should I be mad?" She saw the crestfallen expression on his face and could endure no more. "Oh, all right, I'm sorry. Really. Okay? Yes, I was angry, and hurt, and I thought you were abandoning me like Dad did…"
He actually managed a chuckle at that point. "If you're trying to make me feel like a right bastard…"
"I know, I'm sorry. My point is…what was it—Oh! Look, you were right, okay? I needed to be self-sufficient, be Grown-Up Buffy, not relying-on-Daddy Buffy. Got myself a job, I'm earning money, contributing to the economy, and getting in all my daily requirement of slaying. I'm a Working Girl."
Giles smiled at her. "I'm proud of you. I've always been proud of you. Walking away when I did was the hardest thing I've ever had to do…but I knew you—we needed it."
"I know."
Across the dance floor, Cordelia was taking her turn with the groom. "Y'know, for a guy with the fashion sense of your average derelict," said she, "you do wear the good stuff pretty well." She brushed an imaginary piece of fluff off his lapel.
"Oooh…was that a compliment? Don’t go human on me now, Cordy."
"Look, you're married, and not to me. We aren't required to bicker…"
"I know, for us, now, it's a luxury. But I don't get to see you all that often."
"I know. We've each got our lives, our demons to slay…although you married yours. Kidding!" She added brightly when she saw the darkening expression. "Aren't I allowed a few quick shots?"
He nodded. "A few. I'll let you know when you've reached your quota."
"Okay."
Tara screwed up her courage, then approached the solitary figure in her gunfighter's outfit sitting in her chair. "Willow…you w-wanna dance?"
The blonde witch had expected Willow to demure on account of her condition. For the past two months, Willow had been tackling her physical therapy with aggression, going from a bed-ridden patient who could barely move into one who could dress herself, move around with the aid of canes and even walk for short distances unaided. The telltale droop in the left side of her face had decreased considerably thanks to the isometric exercises she had been doing; only a slight tightness around the left side of her mouth had remained.
Still, she had gone about as far as she could go. Her doctors said that the stroke had virtually destroyed several portions of her cerebral cortex and that, short of her brain miraculously rewiring itself, there was no way to restore the muscular function that she had utilized before.
Willow had told all this to the gang a few weeks ago, very matter-of-factly. "Hey," she had said, "trash those long faces. I'm lucky to be alive. I got off cheap. If this is the price I have to pay for, y'know, the rest of my life…" Deep breath. "It's not like I have a choice."
Willow looked up to Tara in her blue-white dress. "Sure. Why not?" To Tara's surprise, Willow stood up, leaving the canes there, and cautiously made her way over.
"Are-are you sure you're up to this?"
"Well, you're gonna have to help me with the balance and stuff," Willow said as they put their arms around one another. "Think you're up to that? That means kinda keeping close to me in case I start to fall."
Tara grinned. "I'll just have to put up with it."
For a long while the two former lovers danced in a comfortable silence. Finally, Willow bit the bullet. "I miss this. I mean, you, me, together like this."
"Me, too," replied Tara, smiling.
"I want you to know, I haven't done any magic, none whatsoever, since I came back. I'm afraid to even attempt it. Magic almost killed me, or maybe just my addiction to magic, but anyway, it almost killed me, and I was so far gone, I didn't know who I was anymore, and I-I couldn't find my way-way back…" Willow's babbling was starting to break up with hitching breaths.
"Ssshhhh," Tara said. "I know. I know."
"I'm sorry," Willow said, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. "I think I need a tissue—Oh!" She reached into the breast pocket of her suit jacket and brought out the handkerchief. "Always knew these were good for something!" She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
"I am glad you're back, Will," Tara said, when Willow had composed herself. The redhead smiled, stuffing her handkerchief back in her pocket (and making a mental note to wash it before turning the suit back in to the rental place).
"Hey, is that necklace new?" Willow asked suddenly, looking at the chain around Tara's neck.
"Wha-- n-n-no, I've had this for a f-few months," she replied, mentally kicking herself for letting her nervousness bring out her stutter – and for not leaving this particular necklace at home. Dumb, Maclay, really dumb!
Willow picked up on Tara's discomfort, which made her curiosity about the necklace take a quantum leap. "May I?" she asked, and before Tara could answer, or more importantly, decline, Willow drew the pendant of the necklace up from between Tara's breasts.
"I m-made it myself," Tara offered, unnecessarily as it turned out, given the unusual shape of it. It appeared to be flakes of various gemstones set in a maroon resin. Not terribly shiny, but it had the subtle perfections and imperfections of something handmade.
"Hmm…olivine, corsiva," Willow said, identifying the gemstone flakes embedded within. "Those are used for protection against spells. But this type of ward has to be cast against a specific magic-us—" Willow trailed off as the implication hit her, appropriately enough, like a stake through the heart. Slowly, she turned the pendant over.
Embedded in the resin were several strands of human hair. Auburn hair.
Willow looked at Tara, and the cringing expression she saw on the blonde's face was all the confirmation she needed. "This is a ward…against me. Against my putting anymore spells on you, isn't it?" It was less a question than a statement.
"W-Willow, please, I didn't…"
Willow broke away from Tara and shuffled over to the table where her canes were. "I, I need some air."
"Let me help you." Tara rushed over to help Willow. The redhead made as if to shrug Tara off, but accomplished nothing but almost pulling a Brody onto the dance floor. Between the two of them, Willow managed to make it to the table and get her canes.
"Willow, I'm sorry," Tara began, trying not to cry, not wanting to disrupt the festivities around them.
"Save it for later, Tara," Willow cut her off, tears forming in her own eyes. "I know why you did it…and I can't blame you for that. Just…please, let's not make a scene, okay?"
Tara nodded. Willow gritted her teeth, set the cane cuffs around her forearms, and set off towards the Bronze's exit.
***************
There is more to come. I just had to post what I had written so far. I'm not going to leave it on this note, trust me.
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"Good God, that's a lot of shake!"
[This message has been edited by CaptMurdock (edited December 19, 2001).]
