Mother of the Bride
This ficlet is sort of a prequel to my plot_wout_porn story Marriage of Convenience. It's for the prompt Sunnydale High.
Setting: BtVS season 4 during Doomed, though since things have gone rather differently since Something Blue, for which see the original fic, things are rather different here too.
Pairing: Clue is in the icon. :) A tiny bit of Spike/Dru as well.
Rating: PG
500 words
Unbeta'ed.
Mother of the Bride
"…and sprays of white roses to hide the burn marks."
"Ouch!" Giles exclaimed, and Joyce realised her fingers were digging into the poor man's arm. Being mother of the bride, she decided, was the hardest job she'd ever undertaken.
"But Buffy, honey, there's a huge hole in the ceiling and dead snake everywhere. You can't hold the rehearsal dinner here. Whatever will Aunt Arlene say?"
"It'll be okay, mom, you'll see." Buffy 's voice - like always since that spell of Willow's - and Willow casting spells? When on earth did that happen? - was so bright that Joyce had to resist the urge to squint. "You'll be amazed by what a few flowers can do. And Sunnydale High is a really romantic place for us, cuz it's where we had our first fight. Isn't it, honey?"
This last was addressed to Spike, who, with one black leather arm draped over Buffy's shoulders, had adopted a hipshot pose that struck Joyce as almost pornographic. But Spike wasn't listening. He was too busy half-snarling half-sneering at the nervous antlered gentleman standing next to the very odd young woman who'd been introduced to Joyce as Drusilla, Buffy's maid-of-honour from Spike's side of the family.
The antlered gentleman gulped audibly, while Drusilla, who had the most unnerving pale blue eyes, laughed an equally unnerving laugh.
Buffy smacked Spike hard on the arm. "Honey, pay attention!"
Spike yelped and rubbed his arm. "Sorry, love. Just makin' sure old drippy drawers over there gets the message not to start anything."
"Hey" the antlered gentleman protested. "I didn't do nuthin'."
Spike glared. "Don't even think about it, mate. That's all I'm saying."
"I wouldn't," the antlered gentleman insisted, looking bewildered. And slimy.
Drusilla, meanwhile, had let go of his arm and begun to twirl slowly around and around, like a whirling dervish building up to a trance.
"It's coming," she sing-songed. "Up, up, up. Like soap bubbles. Can you feel it?"
Giles cleared his throat.
"Yes, Buffy. About that impending apocalypse. Need I remind you that the Vahrall demons have the Word of Valios and will be here any moment?"
"Oh phoo!" Buffy exclaimed. "They're not due for at least another five minutes. We've plenty of time to arrange the rehearsal dinner and save the world. Don't we, honey?"
Spike blinked. He'd gone back to glaring at the unfortunate antlered gentleman.
"Yeah, 'course we do."
Later, Joyce reflected that it was a good thing the antlered gentleman - who'd seemed a peaceable sort on the whole - had finally taken offence and punched Spike in the nose, because if he hadn't, Spike would never have gotten angry and punched him back, thus realising he could still hurt demons just in time to help Buffy take down the - Viral demons, was it? - which, when he'd recovered from being knocked out, poor Rupert had explained to her were trying to end the world.
Still, despite the world not ending, as rehearsals for rehearsal dinners went, Joyce had seen better.
Onwards and upwards.
Setting: BtVS season 4 during Doomed, though since things have gone rather differently since Something Blue, for which see the original fic, things are rather different here too.
Pairing: Clue is in the icon. :) A tiny bit of Spike/Dru as well.
Rating: PG
500 words
Unbeta'ed.
Mother of the Bride
"…and sprays of white roses to hide the burn marks."
"Ouch!" Giles exclaimed, and Joyce realised her fingers were digging into the poor man's arm. Being mother of the bride, she decided, was the hardest job she'd ever undertaken.
"But Buffy, honey, there's a huge hole in the ceiling and dead snake everywhere. You can't hold the rehearsal dinner here. Whatever will Aunt Arlene say?"
"It'll be okay, mom, you'll see." Buffy 's voice - like always since that spell of Willow's - and Willow casting spells? When on earth did that happen? - was so bright that Joyce had to resist the urge to squint. "You'll be amazed by what a few flowers can do. And Sunnydale High is a really romantic place for us, cuz it's where we had our first fight. Isn't it, honey?"
This last was addressed to Spike, who, with one black leather arm draped over Buffy's shoulders, had adopted a hipshot pose that struck Joyce as almost pornographic. But Spike wasn't listening. He was too busy half-snarling half-sneering at the nervous antlered gentleman standing next to the very odd young woman who'd been introduced to Joyce as Drusilla, Buffy's maid-of-honour from Spike's side of the family.
The antlered gentleman gulped audibly, while Drusilla, who had the most unnerving pale blue eyes, laughed an equally unnerving laugh.
Buffy smacked Spike hard on the arm. "Honey, pay attention!"
Spike yelped and rubbed his arm. "Sorry, love. Just makin' sure old drippy drawers over there gets the message not to start anything."
"Hey" the antlered gentleman protested. "I didn't do nuthin'."
Spike glared. "Don't even think about it, mate. That's all I'm saying."
"I wouldn't," the antlered gentleman insisted, looking bewildered. And slimy.
Drusilla, meanwhile, had let go of his arm and begun to twirl slowly around and around, like a whirling dervish building up to a trance.
"It's coming," she sing-songed. "Up, up, up. Like soap bubbles. Can you feel it?"
Giles cleared his throat.
"Yes, Buffy. About that impending apocalypse. Need I remind you that the Vahrall demons have the Word of Valios and will be here any moment?"
"Oh phoo!" Buffy exclaimed. "They're not due for at least another five minutes. We've plenty of time to arrange the rehearsal dinner and save the world. Don't we, honey?"
Spike blinked. He'd gone back to glaring at the unfortunate antlered gentleman.
"Yeah, 'course we do."
Later, Joyce reflected that it was a good thing the antlered gentleman - who'd seemed a peaceable sort on the whole - had finally taken offence and punched Spike in the nose, because if he hadn't, Spike would never have gotten angry and punched him back, thus realising he could still hurt demons just in time to help Buffy take down the - Viral demons, was it? - which, when he'd recovered from being knocked out, poor Rupert had explained to her were trying to end the world.
Still, despite the world not ending, as rehearsals for rehearsal dinners went, Joyce had seen better.
Onwards and upwards.