Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.

SECTION 9 - TRUE COLORS

I see your true colours shining through
True colours and that's why I love you
So don't be afraid, to let them show
Your true colours (true colours) are beautiful, like a rainbow.

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 Deadly Sins and Then Some)




Chapter 9.04
Saturday, July 20th, 2002


Giles watched Buffy on the dance floor with Hank for several seconds before he took a sip of his beer.

"Have you and Buffy given any thought to where you go from here?" His hand moved reflexively toward his face, but since he'd opted for contacts that morning he had no glasses to fumble with to cover his discomfort. "Now that Sunnydale is no longer a hellmouth, I mean."

"We-ell, not in any great detail... Buffy's got a couple more years before she finishes off her degree and Dawn'll be finishing high school about the same time. So far, I think the general idea is to get them out of the way and then worry about it."

"You don't think you'd be a little bored?"

Spike shrugged. "Buffy's been lurching from one crisis to the next since she was called. I don't think a break'll do her too much harm. Glinda's here an' the house is their last tie to Joyce. 'Sides, even if there are hundreds of them now, when all's said and done she's still the slayer. Even without the hellmouth, figure that alone'll bring enough troublemakers around to keep us entertained."

"Well, you know that there's still the other hellmouth in Cleveland... I'm going to try to convince the council that they should make it their main base of operations. If things around here get too quiet for your tastes, you would both be welcome."

Spike gave a wry grin. Right now, his girls' educations needed to take precedence but the quiet life might wear a little thin in time and there were bound to be schools and colleges in Cleveland. "We'll bear it in mind."

---

 

Spike placed a tray full of drinks on the table and before he had even sat down Rosa began to pass the drinks around until they reached their rightful owners.

"Don't get too busy there, rosebud." Spike's eyes met Buffy's before he turned to Rosa and gave her a smile that with an older woman might have been flirtatious. "The DJ is going to play something for the kiddies next an' since that's more or less down to you, gorgeous, an' I haven't had a dance with your gran yet, you might want to go ask Wes there if he'll dance with you."

"What's he going to play?" the young girl asked excitedly.

"That'd be telling, sweetie. Let's just say you liked the books when I read them for you so I thought I'd have a look on the internet an' see if I could download anything." The vampire grinned in Wes's direction and it seemed as if the colour retreated from the watcher's face in a downward wave leaving him ashen white and then washed back up to colour him beetroot red.

"Spike!" he rounded on the vampire.

Right then the music changed to a bright cheerful tune.

"I never said a word," Spike protested gleefully.

"When the sun doesn't shine
And it's cloudy and grey..."

"Hey," Penny exclaimed in surprise from the far side of the table, a nostalgic smile coming to her lips. "Remember You're A Womble. You know that was the very first record that Wesley ever bought. He must have been about eight."

"E-vil!" Spike reminded his fellow countryman, his grin broadening even more. "An' I didn't say a word. I just knew I wouldn't have to." He brushed his lips to Buffy's cheek, whispering just for her to hear. "Be right back when the song is over, gorgeous." He extended a hand toward Lily as Rosa tugged on Wes's arm, reminding him that he was wanted on the dance floor. Giles was coaxed from his seat thanks to Lydia's enthusiasm, though he seemed to be protesting to her that this was not what he'd meant when he had said he liked 70's rock. Even Penny seemed to be swaying in her seat in time to the catchy tune.

Dawn and Buffy looked from Wes's mother to the suddenly busy dance floor, most of whose occupants were British, before they gave synchronised eye rolls. "England's not just a different country," Buffy announced. "It's a different planet."

"Filled with insane people," Dawn agreed, taking a deep swig of Spike's beer while everyone was too busy looking elsewhere.

"Remember 'member 'member
What a womble womble womble you are."

Buffy shook her head as Lily twirled under Spike's arm. "And I was worried about him getting the guy to play his punk stuff."

---

 

Xander studiously avoided Angel's glares as he approached his ex-girlfriend, not that he was doing anything he needed to be guilty about. That would have been tantamount to... well, maybe not suicide, but with Anya watching, it would be an extreme case of masochism.

Giving a nod in the direction of Devon's new band, who were currently playing one of The Dingoes old numbers, he tried to sound as nonchalant as he could. "How about a dance for old times' sake?"

If Cordy was surprised she didn't let it show. "I guess we could do that," she answered, shoving her champagne glass in Angel's general direction. "It's not like Broody here is going to volunteer." She grabbed her ex's arm and strode off toward the dance floor before the vampire could protest.

Xander found it awkward, and yet familiar, to be dancing with the brunette. Just for a second or two, he decided to lose himself in the music and the woman with him and pretend that they were back in The Bronze in simpler times and that Oz was up there on the stage.

"So?" the former cheerleader's voice broke into his reminiscences. "What's the what? I know you didn't get me up here just to prove you still have two left feet."

"Heyyy! Not so much with the insults. We're not dating any more, you know."

"So spill, then," Cordy insisted with typical forthrightness.

"Well, see, it's kinda like this. Before this thing with The First hit the fan, Buffy asked me to do some work on their basement. Convert it into sort of an apartment for her and the cellar dweller..."

"And?"

"And I was thinking that maybe with some help we might be able to get it finished while they're on honeymoon."

"We-e-ll it's not like we wouldn't want to help-."

"I know. The streets of Los Angeles wouldn't be safe if you and The Dark Avenger weren't around... but you do have a hotel full of super-strong potential helpers, some of whom might be persuaded to put off their R 'n' R for a week or two. Dawn and Tara reckon they're okay to have, say, up to a dozen bunking out at Revello and that's probably about the most we could have working there before we'd be tripping over each other anyway."

"So you just want me to ask for volunteers? That's it? I got footprints on my Jimmy Choos, and not so much as a 'nice dress', for that?" Cordy asked, her eyebrow raised.

"Well, yeah... And you look a million bucks. You pretty much always do."

Cordy lifted her eyes heavenward, as if to say 'It's not much but it'll have to do' before she asked, "So when do they leave?"

"Staying in LA overnight," said Xander. "Plane out tomorrow morning."

"'Kay. We'll have a dozen slayers on the first bus tomorrow... On one condition," she added with a teasing smile.

"Huh?"

"We sit down before I need crutches."

---

 

The reception seemed to have passed far too quickly. It had been after ten o'clock by the time they had even escaped from the photographer, and the meal and the speeches had probably swallowed up another hour. It seemed like minutes since Spike had swept her onto the dance floor. They had barely managed to make the rounds of all the different tables and it was already approaching one in the morning.

Buffy sighed, and retouched her lipstick, checking in the mirror to see that everything looked as perfect as possible for her grand exit. Part of her wished she could stay that extra hour before the bar was due to close and everyone else would retire to their rooms or their homes. If she asked, she knew that Spike would bend to the whim, but it had been a long day, she was tired and they had a two hour drive ahead of them before they reached their honeymoon suite. Strangely, Buffy really didn't want to be falling asleep by the time they got there.

As she re-entered the reception hall, she watched the vampire talking to Bee at the bar. He leaned forward to kiss the tiny woman on the forehead and Buffy almost laughed. He was so predictable. He'd almost certainly interrogated the poor woman on her intentions regarding Tara, warned her of the dire consequences that awaited her if she dared to play fast and loose with the Wiccan's heart and, now, she'd lay bets he was welcoming her to the family.

"You ready?" Buffy asked with a grin, "Or do I have to wait for you to smooch every woman in the room?"

"I'll just go warn the driver and get the DJ to make the announcement," Spike replied, his hand finding hers for a moment before he turned away, letting her feel the warmth of his emotions. "Unless you want me to snog him as well..."

"Forget it, buster! You're a married man, you know," Buffy teased, tightening her fingers around his in the instant before they broke contact and pulling him back for a hug, and cursing the newly-applied make-up that precluded a proper kiss.

---

 

Buffy could hear the babble of voices at her back. Spike looked over her shoulder and gave her a nod to let her know that everyone was in place. Trying not to put her slayer strength to use she threw the bouquet up and backward, watching the red and white ribbons that trailed from it arc past her eyes. Once it was airborne she swivelled on her toes, Spike's arm wrapping around her waist as they both watched the flowers almost brush the ceiling of the room before they began to fall.

Buffy winced as she watched them tumble toward Marlene. There was one wedding she was in no hurry to see happen. She closed her eyes. She couldn't watch, couldn't bear to see the smug look that her dad's girlfriend would be wearing... and then there came a round of cheers and laughter... and some of that laughter was from Spike, his body trembling against her back.

She unscrewed first one eye and then another, ready to smack the vampire if he was laughing at the idea of her dad marrying Marlene, but the wicked step-mom wasn't holding the bouquet. She was rubbing at her ribs, as if perhaps she'd been elbowed out of the way, and eyeing the nearest woman with undisguised venom. The flowers rested securely in Cordelia's hands. No wonder Spike was laughing.

She barely had time to enjoy the expression of complete and utter panic on Angel's face before Spike swept her into his arms and began to carry her to their waiting car, but a glimpse was enough.

The driver pulled open the back door of the Rolls as they approached and Spike stepped into the car before he settled her on the back seat and sat down beside her. People were spilling out of the hotel in their wake and by the time the driver closed the door behind them and got in himself, the car was surrounded by well-wishers, who cheered and clapped as the vintage car pulled away.

---

 

At this time of night, the open-topped car was actually fairly chilly and Buffy was glad of the shawl that Spike had placed ready in the back of the car, but it would have taken a downpour to make her ask the driver to put up the hood. It was a perfect end to her perfect day. She swung her legs over Spike's and leaned in to wrap her arms around his neck. An instant later she found herself sitting, not on the car's seat, but in her husband's lap, a far nicer position. His arms coiled around her and her head found a home against his shoulder. Her mind whirred with all the things she wanted to tell him, all the stuff that he had missed, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to break the silence. When she could share his contentment, who needed words?

They were nearing Oxnard when Spike heard her first tiny, oh-so-cute snore.

---

 

"Mmmmm," Buffy sighed her approval of the kiss that awakened her.

"We're here, Buffy," Spike whispered against her lips, so close that each word was a caress.

She was already cradled in his arms, but when the driver opened the car's door for them Spike lifted her as if she were made of porcelain. He waited at the door until the driver deposited the cases and rang the bell. It wasn't very slayer-like being carried round as if she were too feeble to walk on her own two feet. Any other night she would probably have hammered on Spike's shoulders, telling him to put her down. Tonight, she didn't care what a slayer would do. Tonight she was a girl, a bride, and she could take a feminine enjoyment in the strength of the arms that held her. She could snuggle in against his neck and breathe in his scent.

From what she saw of the reception, it looked no different from many of the plush hotels she had visited with her father when she was younger. In keeping with the age of the building, the elevator was one of those cage affairs where the porter slid the gilt door across manually, but it stopped and started so smoothly that Buffy suspected that the mechanism was far newer.

Buffy was surprised at the length of the corridor down which the porter led them, passing many doors before he stopped at one that looked little different from the others and setting down her suitcase and Spike's kitbag.

With a flourish, he threw the door open. "The Room of Enduring Pleasure." He stepped back to allow Spike to carry her into the room first and as they crossed the threshold Buffy felt her heart slow in her breast and her breathing coming in prolonged sighs.

Spike's mouth dissolved into a mischievous grin and she dropped like a feather drifting slowly down from the shelter of his arms to the springy softness of the mattress and then rising a stately six inches before she began to gently fall again in a snowdrift of fragrant rose petals.

The porter set their bags down in the corner of the room nearest the door and waited just long enough for Spike to press a bill into his hand before he closed the door, leaving them truly on their own for the first time that day.

Buffy pushed herself into a kneeling position as that idea sank home, beckoning him toward her with one tiny finger. Alone. Together. Buffy could feel the way the flush of heat began at the apex of her legs and spread up through the pit of her stomach as he prowled across the room, the enchantment only enhancing his predatory grace.

"Happy, love?" Spike asked.

Buffy had imagined him sounding like an English James Earl Jones, even his speech slowed like a tape played too slowly, but, though his words seemed elongated, their tone was unaltered. "Happy? This is the day I always dreamed about, the happy ending that I never thought I'd get. Rose petals, champagne, strawberries... and you..."

"There's no such thing, love. Not in real life. Endings are never happy. Endings are always about loss." He crawled over the bed and over her, until Buffy used first her hands and then her elbows to support her torso as her body bowed under his. With almost infinite slowness, one cool fingertip skated along her collarbone until it met the neckline of her gown. It let the line of the strap guide it up over her shoulder, over the angle of her shoulder blade and then it turned inward until it reached her spine. Moving down again, it tugged ever so slightly on each intersection of the inch-wide bands of crimson gathered silk that criss-crossed the central panel of the dress as if lacing her in, before they ended under a decorative bow. Only when his hand found the curve of her behind did his grip become more firm, pressing her body more tightly against his... Then , when Buffy felt as if she would die if he'd waited a moment longer, his lips met hers, their caress achingly sweet, making her quiver with need by the time Spike lifted his head again.

"But I intend to make damn sure you get a beautiful beginning..." the vampire promised.

The End

This is the very very last chapter of the SWBD series, so it's the ideal opportunity to comment even if you don't normally. You can't do it 'next chapter' because there won't be one, so do it now.

And for those of you who haven't heard of The Wombles before, here's the address of their official web site. http://www.wombles.easyweb-solutions.co.uk/pages/fmain.htm