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Author's Chapter Notes:
I am going to go ahead and finish this fiction if it makes me go around the bend!
I explain a bit more inside of this chapter, so please read it.
LA COSA NOSTRA: LA FAMILIA


Chapter 18: ‘Cool Feet?’


A/N: I have to admit, after some really questionable reviews, on another fic of mine, I’m a bit reluctant to update this story or any of them. However, I have decided to be tenacious and plow ahead.

Summary: Buffy prepares for her ‘wedding’ to Spike. She suffers, briefly, from pre-wedding jitters and ‘cool feet.’ Some unsavory characters try and crash the wedding ceremony. Guess who?


Chapter 18:


Buffy Summers stood in the bedroom she had slept in since she was five-years-old. The ‘bride’ wore a simple white sheathe made of silk. Her shoulders and neck were totally bare (hmmm, convenient for Spike eh!) except for the string of perfect white pearls that Buffy had borrowed from her mother, Joyce.

Willow, Buffy’s maid of honor, had clipped a perfect red rose in the bride’s honey blond hair. Dawn had fashioned a lovely bouquets of white ‘queen Anne’s lace’ and blood red roses for her. (The roses and the color of them had been William and his father’s idea).

The simple, but elegant bride’s dress had been thrown together by Joyce Summers, quickly. It was quite beautiful in its simplicity. If only Buffy’s future could be as simple.

“You look outrageous!” Dawn giggled happily as Buffy gave her little sister a nervous glance.

“Outrageous? As in outrageous in a good way?" Buffy asked warily.

“Of course!” Willow replied with a shake of her head.

“Oh,” Buffy muttered and chewed on her lower lip nervously. “Dawn, Wills? Can you go retrieve my son and bring him up here? I want to see how he’s decked out and…”

“Sure,” Dawn piped up immediately. “I’ll get the little rug rat and parade him around up here!”

Dawn scampered out of the bedroom, leaving Buffy and Willow alone.

“I’m terrified,” Buffy murmured to Willow. “I know, I know, I shouldn’t be, but I am. This is big Wills. Real big, you know?”

“Yup, it is,” Willow nodded, seriously. “But let’s be honest here Buff, “William, or Spike, I guess, loves you. You love him and you do have a son together. A very special son and I think you realize that there are certain responsibilities that go along with being the ‘warrior of the people’ and the mother of a hybrid the likes your Jimmy.”

“Yeah,” Buffy stuttered in response. “You know Wills,” she continued in a wary tone, “I never did find out what William is wearing for the ceremony. Oh, dear God, I wonder what he’s concocted and…”

Dawn appeared at that moment, carrying her nephew in her arms. Buffy stared at her son in wide-eyed awe.

Jimmy was decked out in some black, silky outfit that reminded Buffy of the clothes that Anakin Skywalker wore in the last Star Wars movie. Of course, Buffy thought her son looked absolutely smashing!

“Daddy’s wearing one, just like this!” Jimmy exclaimed proudly. “Only bigger!” he squealed happily.

‘Oh, thank God,’ Buffy sighed in silent relief. ‘This isn’t so bad, right?’

“You look fantastic sonny bunny,” she swept Jimmy from Dawn’s arms and cuddled him to her.

“Daddy looks even better,” the young boy giggled into his mother’s shoulder. “But you look better then both of us, mommy,” he finished with a loving smile.

“So, William’s outfit is just like this?” Buffy asked Dawn with an air of relief.

“Yup, only bigger, just like Jimmy said,” Dawn giggled in response. “Spike looks amazing Buffy, promise,” she assured her big sister.

“Okay,” Buffy exhaled cautiously, “let’s get this show on the road, huh?”

“Right!” Willow, Dawn and Jimmy answered in unison.

The Summers’ front door bell rang, loudly. Rupert Giles thought to answer it, since everyone else present seemed to be tied up at the time.

For some bizarre reason, Giles was not really surprised to find Quentin Travers standing on Joyce Summers’ front porch. The Watcher raised his right brow at the treacherous older man before him.

“What do you want Travers?” Rupert asked suspiciously of his one time employer.

“A word with you Rupert,” Travers replied, evenly. The smile on Quentin’s face reminded Giles of how Satan must have looked, when he tempted Eve with the apple.

“I’ve not time now,” Giles spat at his betrayer, “my Slayer is about to be officially mated with an Aurileous and…”


“That’s what I’ve come about,” Travers interjected quickly. “Invite me in, Rupert,” he ordered Giles with authority.

“I think not,” Giles answered tersely, “you are not welcome here Travers. Not now, not ever. I will not have you ruin my Buffy’s wedding. No matter how unorthodox it might seem,” he finished in a whisper.

“Fine,” Quentin retorted with a shrug, “we’ll speak of this here, on the front porch. Do you have any idea what you’re allowing yourself to be a party to Rupert?”

“Of course,” Giles snapped in reply. “I am a co-officiator of my surrogate daughter’s wedding ceremony.” Rupert Giles was beginning to get very uncomfortable. Some deep, inner sense caused him to scan the Summers’ front yard. Giles was rewarded, or alerted as the case may be, when he spied Riley Finn, the vampire, and three of his minions at the front perimeter.

“You and your friends are not welcome here, Travers,” Giles growled lowly.

“Be that as it may,” Travers began smoothly, “I think you better reconsider this whole travesty. Don’t you understand, Rupert? With Buffy Summers and her hybrid son under the Council’s complete control, we have all the power we need to overwhelm the demon worlds. While Buffy commits herself and her son to Spike Aurileous, our control over James will diminish.”

“You have no control over James, Buffy or Spike, Travers,” Giles reminded the old fool. “Buffy is her own person, as she always has been. Spike is James’ father, completely, and once he claims Buffy as his bride? You, Finn and most importantly, the entire corrupt Council will have no power over Buffy or her family.”

Giles was prepared to slam the door in Travers’ ugly face, when the other man stopped him.

“Consider this, Rupert,” Quentin continued through gritted teeth. “If we had a hybrid, male heir to a master vampire under the Council’s control? There would be no stopping us, Rupert. Have you any idea what powers James Aurileous truly has? He may well be unstoppable, completely, by human or demon. Do you think that Buffy Summers and her love slave, Spike Aurileous will ever let us have their son? Willingly?”

“No, thank God,” Giles replied smugly. “So that’s why you’ve thrown your lot in with the likes of Riley Finn? If Buffy goes to Finn, he’ll hand James over in an instant, right? The bastard will sacrifice little James to possess Buffy? Riley would manipulate James and Buffy for more power, through you I suppose?”

“Correct,” Travers replied.

“Well, that’s not going to happen, Travers,” Giles snapped back with a shake of his head. “I’d rather see my Buffy claimed by Spike, her son’s father, someone who loves and respects her, totally. Spike Aurileous and his entire clan would walk into the sunlight for Buffy and James. Riley Finn is more hideous and horrible then any ten clans of vampires, even Godfather Aurileous’ clan.”

“You disappoint me, Rupert,” Travers mumbled in barely controlled anger.

“You don’t disappoint me, Quentin,” Giles chuckled with sarcasm. “You are as devious, power mad and incredibly stupid as you’ve always been.”

“You had better depart from Sunnydale, Travers,” Giles warned the other with a manevolent grin. “While you still have your head connected to your body that is.”

With that parting shot, Rupert Giles slammed the door in Quentin’s angry face.

“A word with you Godfather,” Rupert tapped Marcus Aurileous on his shoulder. The old vampire was chatting, amicably with Joyce Summers and his son, Spike.

“Spike, you’d best hear this,” Giles added with a somber expression.

“I want to hear it too,” Joyce demanded in her most motherly, concerned voice.

Giles nodded and led Marcus, Spike, Joyce and even Angel and Connor to a corner of the front living room.

Xander and Willow watched nervously from the other corner, well aware that something was very wrong.

“It’s Quentin Travers,” Giles began carefully. “He’s here, in Sunnydale just as we feared. Travers ‘has’ thrown his lot in with Riley Finn and his clan. The old fool, Travers, thinks he’ll get his hands on James through Finn. Make your son a hybrid slayer,” he finished with a heavy frown at Spike.

“Like bloody hell he will!” Spike roared angrily. “I’ll rip the bastards head from his shoulders before…”

“Calm down!” Marcus growled at Spike. “This will do no good boy. It’s your wedding night, don’t go insane on us and ruin this sacred ceremony. For your mate or you.” Marcus gave Spike a vicious warning glare, calming his heir, momentarily.

“I’ll have Willow put an even stronger barrier of protection around the house,” Giles muttered more to himself then anyone. “That’ll be sure to keep that trash Travers and Finn out of here and…”

“Riley Finn is outside this house!” Spike hissed in unison with his brother, Angel. The vampire brothers’ expressive eyes turned to bright amber as their inner demons fought to emerge.

Giles grimaced at his slip of the tongue. “Yes,” he replied reluctantly, “but this is hardly the time to confront the moron or his worthless minions. Is it?”

“Oh,” Angel chortled gruffly, “it’s more then the time to fuck with that worthless piece of bat shit!”

“Angelus!” Marcus barked at his second son, “enough! I will not have Spike and Buffy’s claiming ritual ruined! This is much more important then a front yard brawl with the enemy!”

“I agree,” Joyce chimed in with determination. “I will not stand by and have my daughter’s special day, or evening as it were, ruined by some male vampire posturing!”

That settled the lot of them down quickly. Wesley, who had been stationed by Willow for the previous few minutes hurried up to the small group.

“It’s best to just ignore the rubbish outside this house,” the cultured ex-watcher offered. “The Godfather is right, the ‘claiming’ is the most important thing now. When Spike and Buffy are united by blood? Nothing can harm them, or their son.”

“About that ‘blood’ thing,” Joyce stammered. “Uhm, I mean after the ritual or ceremony and all? What happens then?”

Rupert Giles turned bright red, as did Marcus, which was quite unusual for a vampire. Spike grinned widely, Angel smirked evilly and young Connor glanced away from Buffy’s mother. His dark eyes fell upon Dawn Summers who had just descended from the upstairs rooms.

“What’s going on?” Dawn asked innocently.

“Riley Finn, Quentin Travers and some minions of the Wu Tang Clan our outside, trying to crash the party,” Connor offered his explanation to Dawn.

“Oh,” Dawn sighed with a shrug. “That’s easy to deal with. Willow,” the young girl motioned to the witch, “make the barrier stronger. That should take care of it.”

“Right,” Willow squeaked and rushed to the front door to begin her incantation.

Xander stumbled up to the unusual wedding party and tapped Spike on the arm.

“I was thinking that there might be music tonight?” Xander questioned his ex-nemesis of a vampire. “I thought maybe something along the lines of ‘White Wedding’ by Billy Idol?”

“Hardly,” Spike muttered impatiently. “Okay,” the vampire continued sheepishly, “I wanted ‘White Wedding’ for music but Buffy nixed it, all right!”

“Oh,” Xander nodded. “Whatever,” the dark haired man shrugged. “Dawnie, where’s the food?”

“Where is Buffy and James?” Spike asked anxiously, gazing up the staircase.

“They’ll be down, William, don’t worry,” Joyce chuckled. “No one has told me what the ‘claiming’ thing really entails. Spill,” she ordered.

“Well Joyce,” Giles mumbled cautiously, his face bright red again, “it’s hard to describe and all. I know this much,” he glanced away from the older Summers woman and focused his stare on his loafer clad feet.

“The bride and groom need to be completely alone, in the dwelling, I mean. After the ritual and ceremony, when it's time for the couple to retire? It’s important, for many reasons. Correct Marcus?” Giles glared at Spike’s father, a pleading look in his blue eyes.

“Yes,” Marcus stammered, suddenly quite at a loss for words, for once. “It’s very important for the couple to be left alone, completely, in the house. We, I mean myself, the guests and our lieutenants, even little James, must depart from these premises after the ceremony. Before the actual claiming proceeds and all.”

“I thought that I would put the entire wedding party up, sans bride and groom of course, at my home?” Giles found it increasingly difficult to look at anyone in the immediate area. “Of course, now that we know Finn’s clan members are about? We’ll have to wait until near sunrise to leave for my home and…”

It was Joyce’s turn to blush bright red now. “Are you saying that something happens that well, I mean, my daughter and new son-in-law will what? Make so much of a commotion that we’ll all hear it if we’re anywhere in the vicinity?” Poor Joyce looked mortified.

“Something along those lines,” Wesley answered for everyone within earshot. The mouthpiece of the clan could barely look the bride’s mother in the eye. “The claiming can be quite, uhm, earth shattering,” he finished with a blush of his own.

“Oh dear God,” Joyce groaned.

“Quite,” Giles added, totally embarrassed.

“Wow!” Dawn giggled wickedly.

“Holy earthquakes!” Xander gasped in envious shock.

“Gee,” Willow sighed dreamily.

“It’s quite lovely, I’ve heard,” Wesley offered as he smiled longingly at Willow.

“It’ll be magic I’ll wager! Where is my bride?” Spike growled lustily as he stared up the stairs impatiently.


A/N: I wanted to pop in and update this story. It’s been so long and I’ve had such a writer’s block with this one. I’ve been very wary of writing anymore, at all that is. After a really awful review on another story and one that was sent to me by E mail, I am a little gun shy of continuing.

However, I remind myself that I am not an Ernest Hemingway, Taylor Caldwell or even a Barbara Cartland. So, I will continue to write, when I can, even if it is for my own enjoyment and I can only hope that other readers might enjoy my stories too.

Thank you for reading and please review. Spufette (notice I left off the sugary ‘luv’ part?)





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