Bonbonnieres and Bouquets
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove at livejournal.com

I'm happy for this to be archived anywhere as long as the header, most particularly my e-mail address & website, are kept intact *on* the story. (Intact, please, not as a weird-arse link that will disappear with c+p.) And tell me, please?

Summary: Weddings are a whole lot harder than they used to be. But Xander can deal.

Giles/Xander
Romance. Schmoop. Just enough angst to make for comfort.
Dr Squidlove has been to a wedding. Weddings make Dr Squidlove schmoopy.

Some time post-Chosen. But pretend the end of Angel s5 didn't happen.
Rated G. Absolutely nothing to warn for, unless you count sugar content.

Wordcount: 1386

Dr Squidlove lovingly strokes feedback with many tentacles.

All my blings belongs to Joss.

___


It had been a good service.

Of course, it was a slayer wedding, so there'd been the traditional invasion of vamps intent on destruction, but pretty much as soon as the tribe of the undead stormed into the church filled to the buttresses with demon fighters, they'd realised their mistake. Too late for them, and the battle had been the perfect way to segue from the ceremony into party mode. A few torn dresses and suits, but nobody seemed to care. Even Buffy had blown off the burns on her dress with a quip about only planning to wear it once anyway.

Xander pushed his fork around the plate, making patterns in the raspberry coulis, wondering if drizzling dessert with red liquid had been one of Andrew's rare sparks of wit, or one of the way more common oblivious moments.

It was getting late, into the warm, sentimental hours. The one-night-only Dingoes reunion had cleared out their whole repertoire and were well into covers territory. The slayer army had demolished the cake in a brief break from dancing. Dawn was drunkenly chatting up that friend of Angel's, Corey or Connor or something. Spike was slouched in the corner, looking ready to bite anyone who came too close. Faith had disappeared a while back with a waiter, or a waitress, or maybe one of each. Buffy and Angel were circling the tables, chatting to LA people now, never letting go of each others' hands. God, she looked beautiful. Second most beautiful bride ever.

Anya never got to this part. She never got to dance like crazy in her wedding dress, or to thank the guests and criticise their gifts in the same breath. If he hadn't been such a coward, she would have spent her last year happy. He'd been so scared of twenty years away, as if he could possibly see what was coming. Xander's life didn't come with a library of prophesies.

He'd almost lost it this afternoon, putting on his tux. He'd turned to the mirror and he'd looked just like the last time, only without a bride, or an eye. He'd been glad Giles had already left. He was glad Giles hadn't been around later, to see how hard it was walking into the church. Hardest thing he'd ever done.

Second hardest.

Xander had got through the wedding okay. He'd got a little glassy watching Giles give Buffy away, would even admit - to himself, anyway - that he'd felt sort of warm and fuzzy towards Angel, as they made their vows. Big stupid human Angel, but it was hard to hate him when he was making Buffy glow like that, and he didn't bring it all to a screeching halt to rip her heart out and walk away. In the end, it turned out that Angel was a better man than Xander. Another reason to hate him, but that could wait 'til tomorrow.

Willow waved from the dance floor, beckoning him up, and he shook his head, smiling. He was done with the shaking of his groove thing. He'd spent half the night up there, with Willow and Dawn and Buffy tag-teaming to keep him occupied, a dance with every slayer, even Faith for a song or two. Buffy had tried to drag Giles up early on, but she should have known better. Xander gave up begging Giles to show off his disco moves ages ago. Not even Buffy was going to get Rupert Giles to make a fool of himself on a dance floor, not even on her wedding day.

He'd been keeping an eye on Xander all evening. Standing close enough to brush elbows through the service after his own bit was done, keeping Xander talking through dinner, watching him for the rest of the night from his safe-from-the-dance-floor seat.

Now Giles was talking to Wesley, legs stretched out, red rose pulled from his button-hole to twist back and forth in his fingers. Always needing something to do with his hands, since he got his eyes fixed. Xander missed the glasses, but he liked the way it bared his face. Giles got a soft, warm look in his eyes every time he looked up and saw Buffy flouncing around in her scorched white dress, beaming. It made Xander want to reach across the room and touch him.

Xander wondered if Giles had ever dreamed of this. The white wedding: church service and bonbonnieres and throwing the bouquet. Or even just two suits in a Massachusetts registry office and a quick 'until apocalypse do us part'.

There was that stabbing panic again. Xander looked away, staring blindly at the dancing.

* * *

He was almost breathing normally again when Giles settled beside him, handing over a Coke. "How are you doing?"

Xander unclenched his fists to take the glass and sipped, gratefully. "Good. You?"

"Maudlin and sentimental." He flashed a quick smile that heated Xander through. Those smiles were coming easier, these days. Xander liked to think he'd had something to do with that.

Xander was doing okay. Maybe his cheer was a little forced, but it wasn't pretend. He could have used a hug, but Giles wasn't hot on public displays. He'd make up for it later, when they were alone and he always magically knew all the right things to say and do. Maybe he'd even do it still wearing his jacket and bow tie. Xander smiled.

His own smiles were coming easier these days, and Giles had definitely had something to do with that. Africa had calmed him, given him time and space and things to think about other than Anya and Sunnydale. But it was Giles, and this thing they had - whatever it was, Xander still didn't know - that gave him moments of being happy. Moments like seeing Giles all polished up tonight.

The man could carry a tux like nobody's business. He'd pulled out the rose but his bow tie was still as crisp as it was when he walked Buffy down the aisle. Xander had undone his own tie and a couple of buttons hours ago, and his jacket was over... one of these chairs. Somewhere.

Giles stood. "Come on."

"Huh?" Xander stared at the hand that was waiting, outstretched. He looked up, and there was something in Giles' expression. Giles reached down and took Xander's hand, his grip dry and strong, tugging him towards the centre of the room. They weaved between slayers who were heading en masse for the punch as the music slowed. "Huh?" Xander said again. "Where are we going?"

"Here." Giles stopped right there and turned, sliding his arms around Xander's waist.

It still took Xander a few more seconds to figure out what was going on. They were on the dance floor. Dancing. In front of everyone.

Giles moved closer, chest to chest, and his jaw rested against Xander's cheek. Cautiously, Xander leaned in and brought his arms up around Giles' shoulders, still not sure he hadn't misunderstood. But Giles tightened his hold, let Xander take some of his weight.

Buffy was watching them, smiling and elbowing Angel. Another quarter-turn and there was a whole gallery of junior slayers staring wide-eyed at the Head of the Council being human. And Willow, with an expression she usually saved for kittens and puppies. Xander hoped Giles had his eyes shut.

Xander closed his own eye and squeezed. It was just them, shuffling awkwardly out of time with the music. A hand stroked Xander's hair and tightened for a moment, and Xander let his face be guided into the corner of Giles' neck, breathing, tasting skin. Giles' other hand spread across Xander's back, burning through his shirt, fingers pressing like this wasn't quite close enough. Xander was simmering inside, warm bubbles rising through his stomach into his lungs. Giles was doing this for him.

Xander lifted his head and kissed him, forgetting where they were until their lips brushed. He jerked back to find Giles turning pink, eyes darting around the audience and then shyly down to Xander's shirt. Xander almost said sorry, but he wasn't. Even less sorry that he'd made Giles blush like that, drawn that crooked, self-conscious smile out of him. Xander tugged him close again, stroking his back through the stiff, smooth suit. Giles was up here in front of all of them for him, and Xander wanted to tell him he felt the same way but he couldn't say it how he meant it in words. So he just held tight, and kept on shuffling.

___


Inspired by my all-time favourite postsecret, which sadly I can't find online:
All the time we spent in love... I didn't really know you loved me until you danced with me... in public... even though you didn't know how. Even if I never get that chance again, it was worth the awkward fumbling to know that what you've said is true.

More Squidfic can be found at
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http://members.iinet.net.au/~tentacles/squidfic.html