Thank you all for the amazing feedback that I've been getting! There's nothing better that you can give to a writer to keep her going. (Except money. I'll take money.) And now, it's a Prodigal wedding spectacular, double the length, quadruple the fluff! Enjoy! :D



She hadn’t wanted to run across town in that monstrosity Anya called a bridesmaid dress, but only when she got to the lodge where the wedding was taking place did she realize that she’d need help to fasten it. Luckily, the first person she saw was willing to help. Dawn’s face lit up when Buffy walked in. “You came!”

“I came,” Buffy agreed, smiling softly at her.

The younger girl grabbed her arm. “Come on, we’ll get you dressed. The real wedding’s supposed to start in half an hour, and Anya’s going to freak out if she sees you without the Emerald City getup.” She shook her head pityingly. “At least mine doesn’t have those sleeves.”

Only when Dawn was finishing up the buttons did Buffy speak. “I’m really sorry. About everything,” she said quietly. “I…I messed stuff up, and I ran. It was wrong.”

“Damn right it was,” Dawn agreed. “But now you’re going to talk to Spike, right?” She looked at Buffy’s reflection in the mirror expectantly.

“Yeah.” She bit her lip. “If he’s even willing to talk to me, that is.”

“Please!” Dawn rolled her eyes. “He’s totally in love with you. He’ll get over it.”

“Buffy?” The incredulous cry came from behind them, and Buffy turned reluctantly to face Anya, Tara trailing behind the bride.

“Hi.” Buffy bowed her head in contrition. Anya slapped her across the chest.

“Keep that up, and you might want to start charging,” Tara said, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Anya scowled. “Well, I wanted to bitch-slap her, but then I’d ruin her makeup.” She turned on Buffy. “You missed the rehearsal!”

“I’m here now,” Buffy offered meekly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Anya cocked her head, assessing Buffy’s expression. “Good,” she said finally. “Now where’s Faith?”

“Huh.” Buffy thought about it. She’d been so consumed with the desire to make things right that she’d forgotten about Faith, who was probably still trying to seduce Angel in the kitchen at home. “She’s on her way?” she tried.

“She’d better be,” Anya warned her, spinning around. “Okay! Am I ready to get married?”

“You look great,” Buffy said honestly. The dress was a little unusual, but Anya still looked typically stunning. And she had gone with the blond hair. “You make a beautiful bride.”

“Of course I do,” Anya agreed, nudging Buffy out of the way so that she could study her reflection critically. “Do you think-“

“Buffy,” Dawn said pointedly. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Right!” Buffy dashed out of the room, ignoring Willow’s glare as she passed her in the hall, and skidding to a halt when she reached the groom’s private room. She knocked tentatively.

Spike pulled open the door, saw her there, and slammed it shut.

Damn. “Spike?” she tried. “Can we talk?”

She could hear Xander inside, albeit muffled. “Get out of here, Spike.”

“’M not-“

“Do you really want to screw up Anya’s wedding with a bunch of vengeance demons in attendance?” Buffy stifled a smile at Xander’s clearly amused retort. “Go talk to Buffy, now!”

There was a muffled curse, and the door opened abruptly. Spike tossed one last glance at Xander and reluctantly stepped out into the hallway.

Buffy smiled up at him tentatively. “Hi.”

“Yeah,” he said shortly. “Where’s Angel?”

She winced at his tone. “I left him at my house with Faith,” she told him coolly.

He almost smiled at that, and she began to relax. “Have you told her he can’t get a happy?”

“She might just die,” Buffy grinned. He started to smile back, but then remembered himself and his face grew stonier. She looked down. “Spike…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he muttered.

She plowed on anyway. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, and I never should have kissed Angel or anything, but it was only that once! I swear I didn’t do anything else. I was just so stunned, because you know, one minute you’re heading out to talk to one vampire about…you know, what you said…and the next, your long-dead lover is back, and you’re just so confused so you screw it all up and-“

“Buffy.” She stopped babbling. He gazed at her expressionlessly. “I know.”

“You do?”

“It wasn’t that you kissed him,” he explained. “Well, it was at first, but by later that night, I didn’t blame you for that.” He sighed heavily. “But you never came back. You never came to talk to me, or explain, or anything. And after I’d bared my heart to you…” He looked away. “I was just a stand-in, after all. I thought we had something…”

“We did- do!” she agreed, putting a hand on his arm. “I couldn’t be with Angel, not when I knew that you were out there. But I was afraid, so I ran. It’s kind of becoming my thing,” she admitted ruefully.

He laughed bitterly at that. “I understand where Willow’s coming from now,” he murmured. “To- to love someone, to trust someone…and then you just go away.”

“Not again,” she whispered, moving closer to him. He tilted his head down to face her. “I swear.”

Their lips came together in a soft kiss, and when they parted, both their eyes were glistening. “You swear?” Spike repeated.

“I do,” Buffy nodded, never meaning anything more.

Abruptly, Spike yanked open the door to the groom’s room again, and Buffy was suddenly worried. What was he…?

“Harris!” he snapped tersely. “Get out.”

“Isn’t that my line?” Xander asked, eying the two with trepidation.

“Not with the show you’ll be getting if you stick around, wanker,” Spike informed him.

“Oh. Oh!” the groom said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “In here?”

“You’ve got ten seconds,” Spike announced, lifting Buffy up easily. She let out a strangled gasp when his hands went somewhere under her dress that Xander should never have seen. “Ten…nine…eight…”

“I’m going!” Xander said hastily, edging past them and carefully avoiding Buffy’s eyes.

She promptly forgot her embarrassment when Spike made her see stars.

They fell to the floor together, Spike above her, pulling frantically at the lower half of the dress and pushing her underwear aside so he could be within her. “Missed you so much,” he panted with the first thrust. “Love you…need you…”

He whispered endless endearments in her ears as she writhed and moaned in ecstasy at what he was doing to her. She was his, he’d never let her go, he’d always love her… She wasn’t much of a talker, but oh, she’d missed him, and this was perfection, even on the floor of a dressing room moments before a wedding-

“Wedd-ing!” she shrieked out the last half of the word as Spike found a particularly sensitive point.

“Vampires don’t marry,” he grunted from somewhere under her dress. “That whole claiming thing is just a myth.”

“Oh!” She ground herself against him. “Not…ours…Anya’s!”

He ignored her in favor of bringing her off yet again, gasping with almost the same exhilaration as she’d felt, just at bringing her pleasure. When she’d finally collapsed bonelessly on the floor and he’d reached upwards to draw her into his embrace, she finally remembered it again. “How much time do we have?” she murmured as he traced meaningless patterns into the spot where her shoulder met her neck.

“We’re probably late. I don’t care.” He purred as she ran her fingers through his hair.

She pouted. “I want to stay here forever, but…” She rolled onto her side to face him and kiss him gently. “I can’t let them down again.”

He nodded reluctantly. “I know.”

--

Tara stifled a grin when Buffy and Spike entered the back room together, looking sheepish and thoroughly mussed and clearly returning from some very intense…making up.

From across the room, Willow was fuming, her eyes dark and angry when she caught sight of the happy couple. Tara suppressed a shudder. Willow did not look pleased at her plans foiled and Buffy back in the fold. But there were more important matters at hand. “Come on, Buffy,” she beckoned. “I’ll fix up your hair.”

Buffy blushed furiously and followed her meekly, her hand still tight in the vampire’s as they all left together.

Halfway to their destination, they collided with Faith, who was dragging along an enormous, hulking man who looked utterly perplexed at the turn of events that had brought them there. “A-Angel?” Tara guessed.

He ignored her, starting forward toward Spike and Buffy. With slayer strength, Faith seized him by the arm and yanked him back toward her. “Behave,” she ordered.

Behind Tara, Spike leaned over to murmur something in Buffy’s ear. She giggled. Angel’s scowl deepened.

“Angel…” Faith said impatiently, and tugged at his sleeve. He sighed and relaxed about an inch.

“So, um, Angel’s your…?” Buffy started.

“Date!” Faith said brightly, pulling him past them. She stopped midway to pinch Spike on the ass and gave them a wicked smirk as she swaggered off, Angel her reluctant companion.

“She did not just do that,” Buffy grated. Spike appeased her with a long, deep kiss that left them both gasping and grinding all over again.

“I’ll wait in the room,” Tara said weakly, edging away from her friends. “Whenever you’re ready, Buffy?”

Buffy wriggled against Spike, pulling her head away from his with reluctance. He grumbled in protest and attacked her neck with newly reinvigorated fervor. “Hm?”

Tara shrugged helplessly and headed off to Anya’s dressing room.

Willow was already there, pacing angrily and snapping at Dawn, Anya, and the supremely amused Halfrek. “If you expect me to spend the entire wedding with that-“

But she’d grossly miscalculated her newest victims. There was little of the non-bunny variety that scared Anya, and Willow barely made her flinch. “You will get along, and you will not ruin my wedding, Willow Rosenberg, or Xander and I will never speak to you again, and then where will you go?”

“I won’t-“

“I don’t think so. Because I…”

As Anya and Willow tore into each other, Dawn edged away to join Tara. “She’s been like this all day,” she confided. “I don’t think that Faith is talking to her anymore, either. She went to see Buffy today, you know.”

“I know.” Tara watched Willow sadly. “She’s so far gone…”

“Faith?” Dawn said, confused. She followed Tara’s gaze. “Oh. Yeah.” She sighed. “Sometimes, I just wish that someone would force Willow and Buffy to sit down and work all their stuff out.” She chewed on her lip. “Things would be so much-“

But Tara was gaping at Dawn in horror, and Dawn stopped short, frowning. “What?” She blinked at where Tara was staring at a grinning Halfrek. “Oh. Whoops.”

“About time!” Halfrek sighed dramatically. “And normally, there’s so little vengeance in something like this, but I am so sick and tired of the whining!” Her face reverted to its demon form. “And it gives me great pleasure to say, done!”

Willow charged at the demon, but as Halfrek finished speaking, she vanished midway and left the vengeance demon beaming at the suddenly silent room.

Tara and Dawn exchanged dubious glances. Tara was the first to speak. “I should be worried, but…”

Dawn nodded. “Me, too.”

Anya’s eyes narrowed at Halfrek. “If you don’t break that wish before the ceremony…”

Halfrek just smiled serenely. “As long as it takes, Anyanka. You know that.”

--

One second, Buffy had been enjoying the Spike lips that she’d been missing terribly for the two minutes since they’d last been alone together, the next he had faded away like a phantom in the night, as had all her surroundings. Instead, she found herself in a tiny room with steel grey walls and no visible door, her only companion a furious looking Willow.

“What did you do?” Buffy demanded. Normally, she’d just avoid Willow, but that wasn’t an option now. And besides, she was angry. No one messed with her Spike smoochies, especially not the Wicked Witch of Sunnydale.

Willow scowled. “I can’t do anything to you, as you already know. Dawn made a wish.” She sank to the ground, deliberately turning her gaze to look away from Buffy.

Buffy took a seat across the room from Willow. “What did she wish?”

Willow shrugged. “Does it matter?” she asked snippily.

Buffy bit back a retort. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing, after all. She’d wanted to speak to Willow before, and now she had her cornered. Literally. This was her chance. “Willow, can we talk? Please?”

“No,” Willow said flatly. “I’m going to use my magic to get out of here. I can’t help you, of course.”

“Because you hate me?” Buffy guessed.

“Because you warded me,” Willow corrected. “And Spike did, too, right?”

“Yeah.” Buffy bit her lip. “You can’t blame us. Obviously, you’ve been trying magic on us if you know that.”

“I tried to help him,” Willow snapped. “And I couldn’t. I wouldn’t hurt Spike!”

“Like you wouldn’t hurt Tara?” Buffy retorted. “You help by hurting, Willow. You decide what’s best for people, and you make those decisions without consulting with them. That’s why Tara won’t-“

Willow’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t talk to me about Tara,” she snarled.

“Fine.” They were both silent for a long time, glaring at each other in lieu of conversation.

Buffy was the first to look away and break the silence. “How did it go so wrong?” Willow didn’t respond. “We used to be friends, Will. You used to be my best friend, before I left. It was wrong, I know that now. But can’t you forgive me?” She blinked back tears that were suddenly springing up. “Maybe not for me, but think of your friends- our¬ friends. Don’t they deserve to be happy without being caught in the middle?”

“They chose their side,” Willow said finally. “And now that’s done.”

“They might be on your side, but they’ve accepted me, too,” Buffy countered. “In fact-“

“No,” Willow said quietly, turning to stare at Buffy with dark green eyes. “They chose you.”

Buffy wanted to feel some sympathy for Willow, she really did. But Willow had dug her own grave here. No one had forced her to hate Buffy, or to do everything in her power to make her life a living hell. Willow had alienated herself.

She voiced her thoughts, and Willow gave her a dirty look. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know that you’ve been apparently holding a grudge against me for years, and you won’t even let me apologize,” Buffy pointed out.

Willow laughed bitterly. “So self-centered! It has nothing to do with you.”

“You sure about that?” Buffy asked, eyebrows raised. “Because the whole seething hatred thing kind of gave me that impression.”

Willow snorted in derisive amusement. “Trust me, Buffy, a year and a half ago I was angry with you, but I’d missed you, too. I never hated you until-“ She stopped, ostensibly annoyed at herself for saying so much.

“Until?” Buffy prompted.

“You don’t know what it was like!” Willow exploded. “You don’t know what happened.” She shook her head. “I’ve been doing magic since Miss Calendar died.”

“I remember,” Buffy said evenly, remembering the light exploding from Angel’s body as his soul was restored.

“I was crappy at it, okay?” Willow shook her head. “I botched up nearly every spell I tried. I had lots of power, but no control. Everything I tried backfired.” She looked down. “I was useless.”

“So what happened?”

Willow still refused to meet Buffy’s eyes. “About two years ago, I met Tara. We started doing magic together… My boyfriend didn’t like it. He was…” She laughed with little amusement. “He was all about weapons and technology, and ignored everything I did that had mystical roots. If it wasn’t explainable by natural means, it wasn’t real, just some crazy delusion of crazy Willow’s. After we broke up, though, he got mixed up with some of his army stuff, and he was forced to work for the Big Bad back then, a kind of Frankenstein named Adam.” Her fingers drummed nervously against the floor beside her. “I used all my powers to make the technology inside of him disappear, to free him from Adam’s control. I had to use dark magic for it, magic Giles didn’t even know about.”

Buffy frowned, remembering what the others had told her. “But your boyfriend, I thought he…”

“He tried to stop Adam,” Willow said blankly. “So Adam killed him.” She glared suddenly at Buffy. “The others don’t know that! If you say anything…”

“No one would blame you,” Buffy told her. “You did the right thing.”

Willow shrugged uncaringly. “Please. As if your opinion matters to me.” She pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. “Anyway, that was a revelation. Because the book I’d used for Riley’s chip also had transportation spells. Easy ones. Ones that could have saved him, if I’d only been working with dark magic all along. Dark magic, it’s so much easier to master than the light. There’s no worry about balancing spells or doing what’s right for Gaia. It’s just about harnessing your power and sending it in one direction.” She smirked. “And power is so not my problem.”

Buffy was unimpressed. “So what does any of this have to do with me?”

Willow gave her a look. “I’m getting there,” she said, but with less rancor than she had before. In fact, if Buffy squinted, she could almost see a hint of red in her once best friend’s hair. “The thing is with dark magic, though, is that it’s much harder to summon up than white magic. Once you’ve got it, it’s simple to use. But to reach the kind of level where you can do anything, you need something really dark spurring your power. I struggled with it for a while, trying to find something that could unleash my power properly. And then Glory hurt Tara.”

“Oh, god,” Buffy breathed. She was finally starting to understand.

“Hatred,” Willow confirmed. “That was what I was missing. Intense, seething hatred. And Glory…well, she was easy to hate.” She smiled at the memory. “I managed to injure her, more than Faith ever had. I was finally strong, stronger than Spike, stronger than Faith, stronger than Giles. Giles…he tried to stop me, to rebuke me. But they needed me to fight Glory, to take her down, and even he couldn’t deprive the world of a savior just because he was too worried about corrupted little Willow.”

She turned to really look at Buffy for the first time. “And that’s where you came in. Once Glory was dead, my magic receded. Nothing was behind it. Giles and Tara were relieved, but I was terrified. How was I supposed to bring Faith back without my magic? But then, one day at the Magic Box, everything changed. Giles was scheduled for a Council-sponsored trip, I’d known that for a while. But when I saw where, and why…”

“You found someone new to hate?” Buffy suggested.

“I focused all my anger and hatred at you, you, who dared return after all these years, as if you could just replace my best friend! I let the hatred fester and grow. And when you came home, it was even easier to make it worse. I had my magic back, and I was as strong as ever.” She closed her eyes, savoring the memory. “I wouldn’t be weak. I could protect my friends and Tara.”

“And yet…” Buffy paused, waiting until Willow’s unblinking gaze was focused on her. “At this rate, you won’t have anyone left to protect. Not if you keep pushing them away.”

“It’s none of your business,” Willow said, cold again.

“Isn’t it?” Buffy considered. “See, right now you’re supposed to be fighting with the good guys. But your method is flawed.” She gestured vaguely at the witch. “You think that you’re using your hatred to control your magic. But really, it’s controlling you.”

“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” Willow said sarcastically.

Buffy held up a hand. “Hear me out.” Willow was silent, her face set. “Originally, you had this magic to help people. That’s all you wanted. But now, your whole life revolves around the magic. It’s not just a tool anymore. You lost Tara because of it. You’re losing other people because of your hatred for me. Is that what you wanted?”

“I want power,” Willow said quietly. “But Tara…she’s more important than power. Or anything else.”

“Then give it up,” Buffy urged. “Give up the dark magic before it consumes you.”

“It’s not that easy.” Willow tucked a reddish-black lock of hair behind her ear. “I can’t just stop doing what I do. It’s like breathing for me.”

Buffy bit her lip. “Then maybe you should try cutting off the source of the darkness.”

Willow snorted. “Is this your way of asking me to be your friend?”

“Kind of,” Buffy admitted. “Is it working?”

Willow shrugged. “If it means Tara will come back? Let’s just… try being civil first, okay?”

Buffy grinned. “It’s a deal.” She extended a hand. “And if I haven’t said it before, I am so sorry for abandoning you and Sunnydale.”

Willow smiled tentatively, taking her hand, and then the room was fading around them and they were back in the back room of the lodge, their hands still clasped together.

“About time!” Anya hissed. “The ceremony’s going to start any second! Get to the main room!”

--

Faith raised her eyebrows at the sight of Willow and Buffy standing together with no missing limbs or visible bruises. Wow. Guess miracles do happen.

Beside her, Angel tried even harder to fade into the background. She rolled her eyes at him. Really, he was so mixed up right now, not knowing where he belonged or what to do with himself. But she knew how to appreciate a challenge, especially one as tall, dark and handsome as this one, and repenting vampires were her specialty. Okay, Spike never really repented, per se. He did good now, but never regretted the past. And yet, he’d never seemed quite as dark as the man at her right.

Plus, if she was going to forgive Buffy and Spike, she might as well find something better first.

“You gonna keep doing that the whole time?” she wondered.

“You don’t understand,” Angel tried to explain. “Xander Harris really doesn’t like me. I don’t think he’d want me at his wedding.”

“He doesn’t like his dad much, either, but there he is, hitting on Tara,” Faith observed.

“Huh.” Angel eyed the man. “I’m pretty sure that that girl’s gay.”

Faith snorted in amusement. “You could say that. The only guy she’s ever even kissed is Spike. And that was the Night We Shall Never Speak of Again. It was a whole erotic spiritgasm thing.” She grinned at the thought.

“What do you see in him?” Angel asked morosely. “I don’t get it. They all hated me. And he’s so…”

“Fun?” Faith suggested. “Loyal? Sexy?” She smirked at Angel’s expression. “Come on, don’t tell me you two boys never got it on. All those years travelling together, you must’ve gotten curious.”

Angel’s forehead creased in worry. “Look at that.”

Faith followed his gaze to where Xander was leaving one of the side rooms with an unfamiliar old man, looking dazed. “Weird.”

“No, that,” Angel nodded to where Tara and Mr. Harris had been walking. Mrs. Harris had interrupted them, and they were gesturing vigorously. “They’re going to cause a scene,” he warned Faith.

She stepped forward to do something, but it was too late. Mrs. Harris flung a large drink into her husband’s face, silencing the other guests and drawing more onlookers.

“Bitsch!” Mr. Harris slurred, tottering a little as he spoke. Clearly, he’d been drinking a bit too much. Big surprise there. “Y’just, y’just alwaysh ‘ave to ruin my fun, don’t shyou?”

“You’re drunk,” Mrs. Harris said disgustedly.

“Yesh, well, I’mma married to you!” He snickered. A few of the uncles murmured in agreement. The demons looked on with distaste. Faith didn’t blame them. “Hey! What r’you doing?” Mr. Harris demanded. Spike had stepped between the bickering couple.

“Sorry, mate, but this is going to hurt me a lot more than it hurts you,” the vampire said dryly. He drew back his fist and slammed it into Mr. Harris’s skull, then grabbed his head in agony. Buffy ran to support him before he fell, a look of concern on her face.

He choked back the pain to lean heavily on Buffy’s arm and smile weakly at Mrs. Harris. “My apologies, but I won’t let him destroy your son’s wedding. He wouldn’t be the first drunk to try, and I’m not going to let anyone succeed at it.”

Mrs. Harris studied Spike for a moment. “You’re that boy who stayed in the basement with Xander, right?” He ducked his head in acquiescence. She nodded, giving him a real smile. “Thank you. You’re a good friend to my son.”

“That’s why we like him,” Faith murmured, watching him give Xander’s mother a charming smile and turning to Buffy, gesturing at Mr. Harris’s prone body. Angel watched thoughtfully.

As the superpowered blondes lugged the man onto a couch together, Faith hurried over to Xander. “You okay?”

“I can’t do this,” he said quietly.

“Do what?” Faith glanced back toward Angel. He was back where she’d left him, watching Buffy and Spike laugh together with almost somber scrutiny.

“This.” He gestured around helplessly. “Everything.”

“Whoa.” She held up a hand. “You’re not talking about what I think you are, are you?”

“Look at me.” He met her eyes, serious and broken all at once. “Look at him!” He pointed to his father. “That’s what I’m going to become, Faith. The kind of guy who hurts…hurts Anya. Oh, god. I can’t hurt Anya.”

Faith stared at him. “This is so not my job,” she said finally. What was taking Spike so long? He should be calming the groom, not Bad-With-Words Faith! But she had no choice but to speak. Xander looked like he was seconds away from doing a runner, and his parents’ argument had only exacerbated his despair. “But if you ever became like that… well, Spike would sock you, too. And so would I, you know.” He gave her a weak smile. “You’re not your dad, and you never will be, Xan. You’re the selfless one, the one who cares, and there’s nothing you care more about than Anya. Do you love her?”

“Of course I do!” He looked aghast that she’d even had to ask.

Faith gave him a shove. “Then don’t you dare do this to her.” She smirked, suddenly uncomfortable with the seriousness of the situation. “Hey, I’ve known that you were a good guy since the night I took your virginity. Go prove me right.”

He nearly choked. “God, Faith, please tell me that you’re not doing that as your toast.”

She gave him a mock-innocent look. “Who, me?”

“I have to…I have to go to her. She’s going to be furious that I saw her before the reception, but…” He shrugged helplessly. “You know?”

“Yeah.” She flashed him a smile. “Go to Anya.”

He planted a grateful kiss on her surprised lips before he took off in search of his bride. She watched him go, a bittersweet smile touching her lips. In a way, she envied Anya, and the way that she’d found love, while Faith wasted her years away on meaningless sex with Spike. They’d had fun, but never love, not even close. Sometimes over the years, when Spike had been in mortal peril and she’d been worried sick about him, she’d wondered if they’d been in love and just never realized it. But now she looked over at him as he chatted with D’Hoffryn, his arm gently wrapped around Buffy’s waist and her eyes locked on him instead of the other demon, and she knew that they were in love, just as surely as she knew that she and Spike never had been.

Angel came to her then, gazing down at her with eyes that nearly understood. “You’re a good friend,” he said softly.

“I am,” she admitted, a bit startled when he bent to kiss her on the cheek. For all her flirting, she hadn’t thought that he’d see her as anything but a distraction from Buffy. Just like she’d always been, despite how long she’d been slayer alone. She was always Buffy’s replacement.

Almost unconsciously, though, she turned her face slightly and his lips met hers. To her surprise and relief, instead of recoiling, Angel remained there, the tentative kiss becoming something gentle and comforting for them both. It was the sort of first kiss that a teenager should have, the kind that spoke of affection and maybe a little something more, far different from the random fuck on a street that had been Faith’s first everything.

And as they finally pulled apart and stared at each other with uncertainty, Faith wondered if she could learn to love Angel.

--

Xander and Anya had exchanged vows, derailed only by a nasty-looking creature that had arrived, intending to stop the wedding. Willow had almost pulverized it before she’d stepped back and asked a delighted Tara to take care of it, letting the magic rest with a shy smile in Buffy’s direction. “Told you,” Anya had whispered in Buffy’s ear as Xander had escorted her to the dance floor. “Couldn’t dye Willow’s color.”

Now, Xander and Anya spun around together blissfully, their happiness permeating the spirits of nearly everyone present. Even the newly awakened Mr. Harris watched silently, tossing baleful glares at Spike from time to time. Tara had even consented to dance with Willow once, though now both watched the dancing from the side quietly, occasionally shooting each other furtive glances. Even Dawn had found a date, and Buffy was amused at her own relief that he was from Anya’s demon friends and not Xander’s family. The latter really were a vile bunch.

Faith and Angel had disappeared to the front lobby a while back, and last Buffy had checked, they were speaking earnestly on one of the couches. She wasn’t quite sure what was going on there, or how broody Angel and brazen Faith were actually getting along, but she took it as the gift it was, giving both slayers what they really wanted.

As for Buffy herself, well, she was in a little heaven of her own, swaying in Spike’s arms, listening to him as he alternated between murmuring sweet nothings in her ears and poking fun at the mismatched dancing couples. He never did stop talking, but she loved him all the more for it.

And when she finally leaned forward to whisper “I love you” into his ear, it seemed perfectly natural.