They were just past Omaha when Xander burst into song: "Goin' to Toronto and we're gonna get ma-a-arried." It was his own revised version of "Going to the Chapel."
"Xan," came Spike's voice from the driver's seat, "if you sing that again there's not gonna be a wedding."
"Hey. Some of us are trying to sleep." Willow sat up from her slumped sprawl in the back seat and tried to stretch, almost hitting Kennedy in the jaw with her elbow. "We're not all used to vampire hours."
"Remind me again why we're driving from LA to Toronto?" Buffy requested of the van at large. Xander was sitting next to her, and she'd gotten the full blast of his sudden musical inspiration. Dawn, on Buffy's other side, had somehow slept through it.
"'Cause airplanes and vampires mix like . . . things that don't bloody well mix," Spike said. "Anyway, seven people, seven airfares. Or seven people, Kennedy's brother's van. You do the math."
"Well, the next time we go to Toronto to see you and Xander get married, Angel and I are taking our own car," Buffy answered. Angel, in the front passenger seat, nodded vigorous agreement.
"And miss the musical interludes?" Xander asked.
"And my devastating Hannibal Lecter impression?" Spike added.
"And-"
"If you don't let me sleep, I'm going to turn all of you into something quiet. Like geraniums. Or rocks." Willow sounded entirely too pleased at the thought. The whole van went silent.
A few minutes later, Xander began to hum softly to himself.
* * * * *
They were somewhere in Indiana. The two vampires were asleep in the rearmost seat, with blankets draped over the windows. Kennedy was driving, and Xander sat beside her, regaling her with the story of how he and Spike had started dating. She'd only heard it five or six times, after all.
"It all started at Spike's funeral. After he did the whole 'close the hellmouth, save the world' thing. We sorta thought he was dead. And we were bummed out. It was kind of a surprise how bummed out I felt." Xander was silent for a moment, then went on cheerfully, "So we had a little goodbye party at Angel's place. Beer, deep fried onions, the whole deal."
"I know," Kennedy muttered. "I was there."
"And we all started to feel worse and worse. 'Cause we all picked on Spike so much. So we were sitting around telling lies about how we'd really always thought he was a great guy. And Dawnie was in the middle of saying how nice he'd been to her, after she first found out she was the Key."
"I wasn't lying," said Dawn. "I really have always thought Spike was a great guy."
"And suddenly the door swings open," Xander continued, "and there's Spike looking undeader than ever. And he says"--Xander started giggling--"'I hope you wankers didn't eat all the flowering onions.'"
"And you," Willow added, "ran across the room and jumped on him. Literally. And when he was on the floor, you kissed him."
"Most exciting funeral I ever had," said Spike, not asleep after all, from the back.
"I never even knew I felt that way about him," Xander concluded.
"The rest of us did," Buffy said. "We had a bet about when you'd figure it out. I had $20 down on 'Not until at least 2007.' Somehow nobody picked 'at Spike's funeral.' We had to call off the bet."
"I think it's so cool that you guys can get married," Dawn said.
"Yeah," Xander agreed. "Not that the great state of California will let us be Mr. and Mr. Harris yet. But hey, a marriage that's only legal in Ontario still means presents!"
"At least people like us can't go to jail for 'sodomy' anymore," Willow said. "Not even in Texas."
"A little reminder, Xan," Spike growled. "I am not gonna be called Mr. Spike Harris."
* * * * *
They arrived at the Colony Hotel in Toronto in the late evening, tired, cranky, and rather pungent.
As soon as he and Spike got to their room, Xander collapsed on the bed. He was exhausted, and his eye hurt a little. Damn glass eye, he thought. It feels exactly like having a large marble stuck in your eye socket. Still, better than the pirate eyepatch.
Spike collapsed beside him, and they held each other for a few minutes. Xander realized how much he'd missed this, cooped up in a van with five other people.
He was just drifting off into a contented sleep when Spike nudged him. "Shower."
"Do I smell that bad?"
"Yeah. But that's not what I meant." Spike gave him a long, slow kiss that almost made up for three days of never being alone with him. "I meant, let's have a nice warm soapy shower together. With lots of steam, and washing each other's backs, and getting all wet and slippery."
Then Xander wasn't sleepy at all.
* * * * *
The next day was spent resting and getting ready--shining shoes, having suits pressed, double-checking paperwork. Giles and Ethan arrived that afternoon from England, and that night they all went out for a vast, celebratory feast at a restaurant in Chinatown. Between mouthfuls of spicy squid, Peking duck, and red-cooked pork, they caught up with each other's news and reminisced about the happier parts of the past.
After dinner, Giles murmured a few words in Latin and produced two bottles of chilled champagne from thin air.
"You're got to teach me how to do that," said Willow.
A puzzled waiter brought them glasses, and when the champagne was poured, Giles cleared his throat. "I think speeches are more traditional after the wedding, but I want to make mine now. So. When I came to Sunnydale, it was to be a Watcher. To do a job. But I found something I never expected. A family." He smiled at Xander, Buffy, and Willow. Xander, embarrassed, felt his eyes filling with tears. He reached for Spike's hand and squeezed.
Giles was looking a bit teary-eyed himself. "Our little family has been through pain and blood and death. Through hell, and back again. And now I look at you all, and I see you happy. So let's raise our glasses, to happiness."
"To happiness," they echoed, clinking glasses.
"And one more, of course," Giles said. "To Xander and Spike." Everyone toasted again.
Spike gave Xander a quick kiss on the cheek, then said to Giles, "Does this family thing mean that after the wedding I have to call you Dad?"
Giles was spared having to answer when Willow spoke. "Um, everybody, we want to say something," she said. "Kennedy and me. We've been talking, and we thought, since we're here, and we can . . . Why not make it official? Sort of."
There was a flood of congratulations from every side. "This is like the bloody flu," Xander heard Ethan say to Giles. "Everybody's catching it." He was smiling, though.
When the group got back to the hotel, Spike stopped outside the entrance and caught Xander's arm. "We're going for a stroll," he said. "See you all tomorrow."
They walked through the cool night, not saying much, scarcely noticing where their feet took them. After a while they sat down at the base of some monument or other.
"We're getting married tomorrow," Xander said.
Spike only nodded.
"We're getting married," Xander repeated musingly.
"Scared?"
"A little."
"Me too." Spike put an arm around his waist. "Love me?"
"Love you."
"Love you too."
* * * * *
It was an overcast afternoon, which isn't normally desirable for a wedding. But when there are vampires involved, it helps. Spike and Angel managed the blanket-covered dash into City Hall with only minimal scorching.
They all stood in the corridor in their wedding clothes, and waited to go in. Xander rocked on his heels, drummed his fingers against the wall, and fiddled with his tie. Spike finally tugged the knot tight and whispered, "Behave."
Sheepishly, Xander looked around at the others. Willow and Kennedy seemed nervous too. Willow, he noticed, had managed to acquire a bouquet of pale yellow orchids that were beautiful with her green dress.
Dawn was looking misty-eyed at him and Spike. "My two favorite guys in the world are getting married," she said. "It's so great."
At last, it was time. The civil ceremony was very simple. They gave their names, signed some papers, and were pronounced married. It was done almost before Xander knew it had started, and then he and Spike kissed for the first time in their married life.
Next it was Willow and Kennedy's turn to sign and kiss. In what seemed like seconds, they were all back in the corridor. "The bouquet, Willow," Dawn said. "Throw the bouquet. And Xander, throw your boutonniere."
Xander took the flower from his lapel and grinned at Willow. They turned their backs and tossed the flowers over their heads. When they turned around, Buffy was holding the bouquet, a huge smile on her face. The boutonniere had landed in the hands of a startled-looking Ethan. He rolled his eyes, and then pulled Giles into a kiss.
They made their way back to the hotel's jazz bar. It was too early for the band, but there was recorded music and a dance floor. Spike tried to refuse to dance, but when "My Funny Valentine," came on, Xander dragged him to his feet. As they danced, Xander shut his eyes, concentrating on the music and the feel of Spike's body in his arms. Spike, his lover, his spouse. His really, truly, legally married spouse.
When he looked up for a moment, he saw that all his friends were dancing. Even Dawn had found a partner, a handsome young man who'd been sitting at the next table over. To happiness, he thought, and closed his eyes again.
Date: July 2003
Notes: This was one of my first stories; since then, my views about the characters and about writing have changed enormously. I've sometimes been tempted to take this story down, but that seems dishonest. So here it is--a bit of my fandom history. It was originally written for a challenge celebrating the legalization of gay marriage in Ontario and the Supreme Court's decriminalization of gay sex in Lawrence v. Texas. Incidentally, the Colony Hotel doesn't have a jazz bar except in my imagination.
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