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TITLE: Stop Thinking About It
AUTHOR: Tesla
RATING:
SPOILERS:
CHARACTERS:
DISCLAIMERS:
SUMMARY:
NOTES: This is for doyle_sb4 who wanted Spike, Angel, Illyria and Nina.
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Who the hell thought that Spike and Nina had even been close? Much less all this wedding business. Angel figured they must have bonded either when he had the Jellyfish of Doom attached to his abdomen, or perhaps Nina had to giggle with someone about the wee little puppet man.
At any rate, which of these things don't go together: Spike. Nina. Wedding.
Angel.
It was making Angel crazy, and he tried to stay out of it, tried not to interfere. A vampire and a werewolf looked okay together on paper, but he was having doubts. And, Spike and Nina and Angel? All in one room, talking about the wedding? A threesome, and Angel was so not going there. That way lay madness, and apologies, and at least one if not both of the other two pissed off at Angel. But still, a threesome....
Stop thinking about it.
He ground his teeth and kept his peace, because Nina was so happy, and she deserved some happiness. Since Buffy wasn't an option, someone deserved some happiness, right? Right?
Of course, it was the God-King who happened to voice Angel's inward qualms.
"The other vampire bores me with his discussion of mating ritual," she announced, the day before the ceremony. Well, the night before, after the rehearsal dinner that had two vampires, a former rogue demon hunter, a magical lawyer, and a lot of people from the Werewolf Support Group.
Steak tartare was the main course.
Illyria had stalked into Angel's suite, with the grandiose stride that irresistably reminded Angel of Charlton Heston, in Egyptian Prince mode in The Ten Commandments. One could almost see the bowed backs of the slaves and followers, in her mind's eye. "You are drinking the poisonous draught, again," she said. "So, too, is The Other."
"Spike?" Angel asked. "He does that a lot."
She ignored him----not that Illyria was much on conversation. "This planned
ritual reeks of foolishness and does not bode well. A vampire and a human. It is not appropriate, and the ritual dining was of the clacking of the geese."
"Huh," Angel said intelligently. "Well, technically, Nina's a werewolf, and if she wants to get married to a vampire..."
"No one truly wishes to do this thing, this mockery of true union," Illyria proclaimed. "In my time, mating was not so mocked. My chosen ones bowed before my lash."
"There's lots of places in LA that could probably help you out with that," Angel said. "Actually, if it comes to that, so would one of our first-year associates. Want me to call one?"
"Do not jest with me, vampire. I cannot bless this mating."
"You don't have to bless it. In fact, I don't know who invited you to the ceremony."
"All things of this realm are of interest to me," she proclaimed--everything she said sounded like a proclamation, but some less than others.
"Look, it's been a long day and it's gonna be a longer one tomorrow," Angel said wearily. "I really need to sleep."
"You must not allow this farce to continue," Illyria said, staring direfully at him.
"I'll think about it," Angel lied.
On the day, the same people who had attended the rehearsal dinner, plus most of the office staff, were gathered in the big penthouse solarium. Which Angel hadn't even known existed, until The Wedding came up. He kept studying the necro-tempered glass with suspicion, until Spike gave him a solid elbow in the ribs.
"Pay attention, Hair Gel, your bride is walking down the aisle."
Angel jumped, guiltily. "I just get a feeling of impending doom," he hissed to Spike. The string quartet was playing the processional. Nina was coming up the aisle on Wesley's arm. Curiously, none of her family was here.
Or maybe not so curiously.
Spike rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't Nina be feeling that?"
"No, really, Spike, something's wrong. This is wrong."
Spike gave him a look of disbelief. "As usual, you have perfect timing. You're such a drama queen."
"Spike, what do I do?" Angel asked, aware that he sounded pathetic.
Spike eyed him. "I'll handle it. You big girl."
And handle it he did. Spike waited for the minister---well, Lorne, who had some kind of Internet ordination and a sequined robe---to intone, "Unless someone pipes up now, let him forever---" and then Spike stepped forward.
"Right," he said. "Can't let it continue and ruin this poor woman's life."
There was an interested, scandalized buzz from the audience.
Lorne boggled at them both, and Nina looked as though she had turned into a pillar of salt. "What?" Lorne squeaked.
"Captain Forehead here can't be happy, or he'll turn back into Angelus," Spike said resourcefully. "I see it com---er, happening."
Nina lifted her veil. "Angel, is this true? " she asked. "I could make you too happy?" She looked dazed.
"Uh---" Angel said.
"Perfect happiness, and bing! Goes the curse," Spike said. "Can't risk it, Pet, don't know what I was thinking of." He scratched his head and cast a rueful, I'm-so-sorry look at Nina.
Wesley stood up. "Spike, I hardly---"
"Are you saying that Nina can't make Angel perfectly happy?" Spike asked. Wesley, under the combined glares of the bride, the groom, and the best man, stepped back.
"No," Wesley mumbled. "Not at all. Should have thought of it, myself."
"There, there," Lorne said. "I was having worries, too."
"But hey, why waste a party?" Spike said. "I'll marry the poof,
right now."
Illyria stepped out of the bank of ferns. "And my presence alone sanctifies this occasion, vampires, so be silent, green demon."
Angel stared at them. He had obviously been taken into an alternate dimension. It was best to just play along.
Which is how he and Spike got married.
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