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Author's Chapter Notes:
To make up for the last, Spuffy, but sad, story - here is one that just keeps getting Spuffier...Do I need Angel-bashing warnings?
Title: The Wind Beneath My Wings
Author: Slaymesoftly
Season: Post NFA
Rating: NC17 to be safe
Word Count: 13800 +
Disclaimer: Joss said we could play with them now that he’s done.
Summary: It’s a few years after NFA, Angel has shanshued and there is a wedding being planned. Sounds like it could be Bangel, doesn’t it? Wrong! Many thanks to my wondereful beta, Always_jbj, for taking a last, hard look at this.


The Wind Beneath My Wings

Chapter One

Events were going very well, all things considered. There had been no glitches in the catering plans, no problems with the dress, which was now hanging on the door of the closet. Everyone who needed to be in town for the wedding had made it in time for the rehearsal. The bridesmaids all liked their dresses –or, if they didn’t, they made sure to say they did. Buffy prided herself on finding both a style and a color that would look flattering on everyone.

(No radioactive green for my bridesmaids! I want them to feel pretty.)

Thoughts of the last time she had worn a bridesmaid dress herself led, inevitably, to thoughts of those who were not going to be around for this wedding.

(Ah, Anya. I’m so sorry. You would have loved this – and you probably would have taken over the whole planning thing for me. I hope you’re happy now – wherever you are. I wonder if ex-demons can go to Heaven if they die fighting to save the world? I hope so.)

As she always did when reminded of such things, she then had to wonder where souled vampires went after saving the world. Because, as was always the case, any thoughts of Sunnydale and the people in it evoked visions of bleached blond hair that curled when it was wet, of a trim, muscular body that even now she could almost feel pressed against hers, and visions of clear blue eyes shining with a devotion, the like of which she knew that she would never see again.

Shaking herself, she forced the memories of the vampire she had loved too little and too late to the back of her mind and continued concentrating on the arrangements for the rest of the evening. With the rehearsal already out of the way, she had deemed it a night for relaxing with the old friends who were waiting for her in the lobby. She quickly finished dressing and left her room to meet Willow, Xander and Angel.

The three old friends, and the former vampire who had been on the edges of their group for the first three years that Buffy and her high school helpers had kept Sunnydale safe, were going to a nearby restaurant for a relaxed dinner. To be followed, she hoped, by a good night’s sleep before the final flurry of activity necessary for the following day’s afternoon wedding. Giles was tied up with Council business and, while he’d been there for the rehearsal, would not be rejoining them until it was time to walk Buffy down the aisle.


She greeted Angel with a warm kiss, hugging Xander and Willow tightly as though she had not just seen them a few hours earlier. For the first time in three years, she could feel herself relinquishing some of the sadness with which she had been living since the collapse of Sunnydale. Memories of watching Spike burn up in the Hellmouth - his gratitude for her declaration of love and his denial of its truth on his lips - still haunted her; but the growing realization of how good her life was now had made it easier to accept his sacrifice.

(He wanted me to have this. I shouldn’t feel bad about it. I should be enjoying what he died to give me. That’s the best way to honor his memory. No more moping. I’m alive. I’m getting married to my first love and all my friends are here to celebrate with me.)

When Angel had shown up on the Council’s doorstep, battered and worn, but breathing and as human as anyone else, his story of the fight against the senior partners and Spike’s second demise, had hit Buffy much harder than she would have expected. The knowledge that he had been back for months - without contacting her - only cemented Buffy’s belief that the blond vampire had died not once, but twice, still believing that she didn’t love him.

On those rare occasions that she allowed herself to dwell on it, she often thought that if it weren’t so painful, it would be funny. That the man who could read her so well most of the time could be the only one in that house on Revello Drive not to realize that the Slayer was in love with him. Certainly Giles and Willow recognized it. Dawn saw it. The potentials all saw it. Hell, even Faith had noticed; quickly backing off from her intended seduction of the souled vampire when she saw her sister slayer’s devastated face and the vampire’s guilty reaction to it.

(Leave it to Spike to read me like a book when he was soulless and evil, telling me that I loved him, that I needed him, even when all it got him was a punch in the nose. Give him a soul, and suddenly he decides to believe all those things I told him about being beneath me; about being unfit for me to love. Stupid vampire.)

Only her anger at Spike for not having believed her kept Buffy from falling apart in front of Angel the one time they discussed the blond vampire’s reappearance three months after his “death” in the Hellmouth, and his subsequent decision to remain in Los Angeles. She had clung to her anger until Angel was out of the apartment, and then collapsed; allowing herself to give voice to the renewed grief his story had generated. By the time her newly-human first love returned, Buffy had regained her composure, washed her face, and pushed the memories of William the Bloody as far away from her as they needed to be in order for her to go on with her life.

If Angel noticed that she was quieter than usual for the rest of the day, he attributed it to lack of sleep from their having been up most of the night talking, hugging and rejoicing over his Shanshu. Without his vampire senses, he never smelled the tears she’d shed while he was gone; nor did it occur to him that, had Spike been around, Buffy may not have greeted Angel’s new status quite so happily. His easy assumption that his having become human meant that they were going to be together rankled more than Buffy let on. However, with no one else in her life at that time, she allowed herself to slide into a relationship that was, if not totally happy, at least familiar and comfortable. Even Giles and her friends seemed to be willing to accept that Angel’s reward from the Powers That Be absolved him of any sins Angelus may have committed and they gradually welcomed him back into her life.

She couldn’t have said exactly when they went from the happy reunion, to living together, to planning a wedding. She almost felt as if she had awoken one morning to find herself engaged, with a wedding looming only a few months away and no recollection of how she got to that point. Common sense said that it was almost two years since Angel’s reappearance in her life and that they could not have reached this point without her full and enthusiastic cooperation, but every once in while she could feel the adrenaline flooding her body as a touch of panic went through her. On those occasions, she had to force the Slayer down and convince herself that she was not caught in a trap, but was enjoying her just reward for years of service.

She resolutely denied any possibility that her body might be trying to tell her something about the impending wedding; insisting on attributing the more and more frequent panic attacks to normal pre-nuptial nerves. She hadn’t mentioned the attacks to anyone; she just did her best to hide them and to deny their existence.

As the happy group strolled toward the restaurant, Buffy felt herself tensing up again, her body choosing that particular moment to respond to Angel’s arm around her shoulders with a flight or fight reaction that she could barely control. She unconsciously flinched away from the puzzled man, smiling apologetically when he gave her a hurt look, but carefully remaining just out of reach.

“S…sorry,” she managed to get out between clenched teeth. “There must be vamps around. My slayer senses just went a little nuts.”

Everyone glanced around quickly, noting that it was just barely dusk and the well-lit street was crowded with people hurrying home from work or out for the evening. The chances that there were vampires already about in such a busy area seemed slim and Buffy had to look away from Willow’s suspicious frown.

“Hey! It’s the night before your wedding, Buffster,” Xander tried to break the tension still palpable in the air. “If there are any vamps hanging around, let one of the new slayers worry about them. You’re on your honeymoon – or you will be soon, anyway.”

“R-right, Buffy,” Willow’s concerned face said clearly that they were going to talk, but she loyally chimed in. “It’s a crowded street. Even if there is a vamp, you won’t find him – and then you’d get dust on your clothes…and…oh, look we’re here!” With great relief, Willow pointed to the door of the restaurant and tugged Buffy toward it. The slayer took a deep breath, mentally forcing herself to calm down and conquer the panic flooding her body.

(It’s perfectly natural to be a little uptight the night before your wedding. I’m sure all brides go through this. It’s natural. It doesn’t mean that I don’t want to marry Angel. It doesn’t mean I don’t love him.)

She continued her mental chant until she felt that she was once again in control of her body, then smiled and followed her best friend into the building. To prove to herself that she was now fine, she took Angel’s hand and squeezed gently in apology for her strange behavior. Fortunately, he seemed to have taken her excuse at face value and he squeezed back and smiled his forgiveness.

“It’s all right, sweetheart. I didn’t take it personally. I’m sure in a crowd like that there probably were a few vamps getting an early start on the night’s hunt. It’s nice to know that your senses have become so well developed through the years. I remember when you could barely feel any vampires at all.”

“Yeah,” she smiled back. “I got a lot better at it. Spi - I had some help for a while and now look at me – all vamp-feeling girl!”

“It’s okay to say his name, Buffy,” Angel smiled kindly. “I know you spent a lot of time together and that he helped you out sometimes. I understand that he meant something to you. I’ve come to terms with that…well, as best I can, considering that it’s Spike.” She almost thought she heard the now thoroughly human man growl briefly before he continued. “If something reminds you of him, it’s okay to say so in front of me. I’m not jealous.” He grinned and pulled her closer to his side. “After all, I’m the one who got the girl in the end.”

There was no controlling the burst of anger that shot through Buffy’s body causing her to accidentally clutch Angel’s forearm. He yelled in surprise and pain, tying unsuccessfully to pull away from her painful grip.

“What the hell was that about?” he demanded, glaring at her.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m still getting those vamp vibes. I guess they’re making me nervous.” As she spoke, she realized that she actually was getting vamp vibes – strong ones - and they were coming from somewhere in the crowded restaurant. Her eyes flew around the room, unable to pinpoint the source of the sensations.

Willow and Xander had seen the change in her demeanor and sent their own eyes roaming over the room, seeking anything that might indicate patrons of the undead persuasion. Angel, seeing how Buffy was ignoring everything except the tingles on her neck, grudgingly accepted that there were vampires in the large room and made his own experienced scan, coming up with nothing. When the tingles faded somewhat, Buffy relaxed and allowed herself to be led to a table near the dance floor.





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