Wes frowned at the former May Queen.  "It was a nice toast," Wes said, "but I don’t know that it deserves a ‘wow’."

Cordy shot him the ‘you’re an idiot’ look he got so often from her.  "I didn’t mean ‘wow’ toast, I meant ‘wow’ Angel’s son."

"Oh, yes, of course," Wes said, nodding.  "Odd, isn’t it?  To think of Angel as a father."

Cordy rolled her eyes.  "I just meant thank gods he got his mother’s forehead and not his father’s ... and that complexion, who knows where he got that.  I’d kill for skin like that."

It was Wes’s turn to roll his eyes.

"Poor thing, though," Cordy said gently.  "It looks like he got dear ol’ dad’s fashion sense."

"It’s a tuxedo Cordelia," Wesley pointed out, "they are traditionally black."

Cordy laughed to herself.  Twenty odd years of working side by side, ten of them married and he still couldn’t tell when she was kidding.  It was something she would always love about her husband.

The reception was in full swing and Buffy’s gallery was packed to the max with friends and family.  The ceremony itself had been small, with only the wedding party present – and one tag along.  Spike had attended, much to his Sire’s annoyance, but he managed to keep his mouth shut when Giles asked if anyone knew any reason Angel and Buffy shouldn’t be wed.  The vows were short and sweet and very heartfelt.  They exchanged Claddagh rings with Nick standing by Angel and Willow by Buffy.

Angel couldn’t stop looking at her.  *His wife*.  Buffy was finally his wife in every sense of the word – well, almost.  They still needed to cement a few more things, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t done that a lot already, just not as man and wife.  But he was always thorough, he mused as he eyed Buffy’s form appreciatively.  She looked absolutely radiant in the pale cream cocktail dress she had chosen for the occasion.

"You keep looking at me like I’m going to vanish in a poof of smoke or something," Buffy said quietly as she leaned into him.  They were sitting at a table watching their friends mingle.

"I just can’t believe you’re finally mine," he whispered in her ear.

Buffy laughed, a thoroughly amused giggle.  "We’ve been living together for weeks.  We have a grown son.  What can’t you believe?" she prodded gently.

"Any of it," he said honestly.

"I love you Professor Jacobson-Summers," she said, her grin getting wider.

"I love you too."

Buffy looked up as someone came to stand next to her.

"I just wanted to congratulate you both."

Buffy smiled warmly.  "Thank you, Dan.  I was worried you weren’t going to be able to make it."

"Things worked out," Dan said, returning her smile.  "I wouldn’t have missed it for the world."

He nodded to Angel who returned the gesture with a decidedly chilly tilt of his head.  Buffy suppressed her admonishment for her new husband.  It seemed he and Dan had agreed to be at odds and she wasn’t in the mood to try and smooth things over.

"Are you always going to be like this?" she asked after Dan left.

Meeting her gaze calmly, Angel replied, "Yes."

He didn’t even have the decency to be ashamed of his behavior.  Buffy sighed dramatically.

"When are you two taking off?" Spike asked, taking a seat next to the former Slayer.

Angel automatically put a possessive arm around his wife while watching the blonde intruder carefully.  Spike had behaved so far, but Angel wasn’t about to start trusting him.

"Why?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow.

Spike smiled evilly.  "Everybody knows you’re gonna go shag," he stated.

Buffy shot the vampire a mortified glare.  "Do you always have to be such a pest?" the Slayer asked under her breath.

With a bark of laughter, Spike replied smugly, "Yes I do.  It’s my job to antagonize you ... and Peaches."

Not one to be thrown by Spike’s ribald comment, Angel hugged his wife tightly to himself.  "Yeah, honey" he said loud enough for his Childe to hear, "when are we going to leave?"  He punctuated his request by nibbling on her ear.

Blushing crimson, Buffy muttered, "You’re incorrigible."

Spike glared at his pompous Sire.  It wasn’t fair that someone who was as big a prick as Angelus should end up with Buffy.  He rose from the table in a huff, headed for the bar.  Angel watched his disgruntled Childe go with his own smug grin.  It was childish, yes, but he did enjoy rubbing Spike’s nose in it.

"Finally," Angel said with a self satisfied grin as he shed his waistcoat and shirt.

Buffy turned to face him, wearing an equally big grin.  After a half hour of goodbyes and well wishing, she and Angel had managed to retreat to their own bedroom.  They’d considered a honeymoon or even spending the night in a nice hotel, but had ultimately opted to come home.  They both felt it appropriate to begin their marriage in the bed they shared.

"I think everything went very well," Buffy said with a smile, her gaze raking appreciatively over his bare chest.

Angel nodded in agreement.  "It was everything I’d hoped for ... except for the part with Spike."

Buffy gave him a chiding look which Angel fully refused to acknowledge.  As she reached behind her neck to undo her dress, he stopped her.

"Don’t," he said, his voice suddenly husky.

She looked at him, cocking an eyebrow inquisitively at his state of semi-undress.

"I want to enjoy my bride," he said as he made his way across the room to her on bare feet.

Buffy giggled somewhat nervously at his almost feral expression.  "How can you enjoy your bride if she doesn’t undress?" she asked mischievously.

Angel smirked.  "Oh, come on, I know you have more imagination than that."

Buffy blushed, but dropped her hands to her side, looking up at her husband as he loomed over her.  Slowly, he sunk to his knees before her, never breaking eye contact.  He watched the muscles of her throat work as she swallowed convulsively.  A gentle flush came over her and her breathing increased.

Gods he loved this woman.

Placing his hands behind each ankle, Angel slowly moved them upwards, centimeter by centimeter.  He loved the feel of her firm legs encased in stockings.  His hands reached the hem of the dress, but he continued upwards regardless, running his hands under the expensive material.  When he reached her thighs, he could feel their gentle trembling.  He doubted it was from the fact that she was perched in high heels.

Angel’s smile widened as he reached the tops of the stockings.  He knew Buffy wasn’t big on lingerie, but she’d apparently found a garter belt for this occasion.  He throbbed inside the dress pants he still wore at the thought of her buying such intimate apparel for him.  Keeping his hands behind her legs, he followed the garters up to her waist, very cognizant of the fact that the flesh of her ass was bare.  He stared at her, openly surprised as he moved his hands around to the front of her thighs.  As his fingers encountered material, he was momentarily confused, but quickly figured it out.

"Thong?" he asked mischievously.

She blushed and nodded.  "It’s a special occasion," she explained breathlessly.

"That it is," he agreed enthusiastically.

His smiled widened even further when he realized the thong had put on over the garter belt.  Hooking his thumbs under the silky material of her thong, he pulled it down her legs.  As is pooled around her ankles, Buffy stepped out of it, bracing her hands on her husband’s shoulders for balance.

When the garment had been cast aside completely, Angel pressed his wife back against the wall next to the bed they shared.  She looked at him intently, her mouth slightly open.  Her tongue snaked out to wet her lips and Angel nearly groaned at the sight.  Placing his hands on the outsides of her knees, he urged her to widen her stance.  Buffy complied readily, once again grasping his shoulders.  Grabbing the hem of her dress, Angel hiked the material upwards until it bunched around her waist.

He met her gaze once more and basked in the mutual lust reflected.  With a wicked grin, he urged her to throw one leg over his shoulder as he buried his face in her dripping folds.  Buffy screeched aloud as his tongue parted her nether lips in one sure move.  Her fingers dug more firmly into his shoulders but he neither noticed nor minded.

Buffy’s head rolled back, hitting the wall with a thud as she arched her hips towards him.  He grabbed her hips firmly, steadying her for his ministrations.  Over and over, his tongue teased her mercilessly, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy and then retreating just when she needed it the most.  She tried to force the situation, but was in no position to do so, much to her chagrin.  As she began to whimper in frustration, Angel took pity on her, slipping her tender nub between his teeth and suckling forcefully.  She went off with a wail.

Grabbing the leg thrown over his shoulder with one hand, Angel rose to his feet but never let her foot touch the ground.  With his free hand he unbuttoned his pants and shoved them quickly down his hips.  Throwing the leg he still held over his hip, he plunged into her just as she was beginning to recover from her first climax.  He buried his head in the crook of her shoulder, biting down on the exposed flesh with blunt teeth as he rocked into her body.

Buffy’s hands clasped his muscled biceps tightly as she tightened the leg around his hip, arching herself towards his body. He was hunched slightly despite the fact that she still wore her precariously high heels.  Their height difference would always be an obstacle, but thankfully one they could overcome quite easily.

"Angel," she panted as he drove deeply into her.

He made a rumbling growl of approval at her breathy cry and used one hand to snake between their bodies where she craved his touch, stroking firmly.  He knew he couldn’t hold out much longer and he wanted Buffy to join him.  The excitement of taking his wife in such a deliciously debauched fashion, while she still wore her wedding dress was too much for him.  As her first breathy whimpers signaling her climax began, he let himself go, pounding roughly into his mate’s body.  Through great strength of will, he managed to stay upright as their combined climaxes rippled through their bodies.

Long moments later, a nearly breathless Buffy noted, "I take it you like the dress."

He laughed gruffly, hugging her tightly.  "Yeah," he said, "I like the dress, but I like the wife more."

"Don’t start something you can’t finish, Bud," Buffy said, splashing water playfully at her husband as she lay back against his chest.

Angel grinned and continued to gently molest her body beneath the bubble filled water.  They were lounging languidly in the large claw foot bathtub, Buffy’s only truly extravagant piece of furniture, despite the fact that she was financially well off.

"Angel," she whined, squirming around as one hand gently tweaked a nipple and the other snaked between her thighs.

"What?" he asked with exaggerated innocence.

"I’m not kidding," she chided.  "Don’t start it if you can’t finish it."

Craning his neck forward, he nibbled gently along the shell of her ear.  "Why would you think I wouldn’t be able to finish it?" he asked seductively.

She groaned in frustration.  "You’re not a vamp anymore," she said tersely.

"So?"

"And you’re not exactly nineteen either."

Angel smiled, grabbing her hips and pulling her back so that his prominent erection was nestled against the cheeks of her ass.  Buffy gasped, pressing against him more forcefully.  Despite living together for some weeks and being intimate often, they hadn’t really had time for any sort of sexual marathon.  They were always pressed for time and as a consequence their sexual interludes tended to have a frantic air.  They hadn’t yet had the opportunity to lounge around for hours enjoying each other’s bodies.

Buffy wasn’t anywhere near as well versed sexually as Angel, but she’d had her share of lovers and unlike his, hers were always very close to her own age.  She knew that often, despite the mind being all for something, the body wasn’t always on the same page.  She merely assumed that like any normal aging human male that he wouldn’t be able to perform again so soon.  Apparently she was wrong.

"You were saying?" he asked coyly.

She whimpered his named, trying to lever herself backwards so she could slip him inside her body.

"Oh no," he said, holding her hips still.  "You seem to think I’m an old man.  Maybe I need to rest some more."

She growled and he laughed in reply, wrapping his arms firmly around her chest so she couldn’t move.  "Trust me," he said quietly.  "I can still keep up with you."

"We’ll see about that," she said, twisting her head backwards so she could clamp her teeth around the prominent vein in his throat.

Angel stilled as her teeth bit down carefully but firmly into the flesh of his neck.  Most of their vampiric play tended to be directed at Buffy, but she’d found that he enjoyed being the recipient as well, though he was reticent to ask for it.

Sensing that he was no longer attempting to restrain her, Buffy twisted around so she was facing him.  It was neither quick nor graceful and she sloshed a large amount of water onto the bathroom floor in the process.  The end result, however, was worth it.  Buffy was kneeling on top of Angel’s thighs, her hands braced on the sides of the tub as she clamped down on the vein.  He was deathly quiet save his slightly ragged breathing, his eyes pressed tightly shut.

Wickedly, Buffy reached down between their slippery bodies and found his rigid cock.  She grasped it firmly, stroking in long even movements of her hand.  He made a noise suspiciously close to a whimper and Buffy decided to be really evil.

"Don’t come," she said in a chiding voice around her bite.

The whimpering stopped and Buffy released the bite to look at him, not slowing her strokes.

"What?" he asked, obviously having trouble concentrating.

Leaning forward, Buffy laved the irritated skin on his neck with her tongue.  Between licks she repeated, "Don’t.  Come."

He made some protesting noise and Buffy bit down hard.  His hips surged forward involuntarily, pressing his cock against her hand and more water splashed over the side of the tub.

"No, no," she said, pulling her head back to look at him again.  "You made it clear that you’re more than capable of keeping up with me, so no coming."

Angel made a grumbling growl deep in his chest and Buffy moved her mouth so that her bite was against his throat where his neck met the underside of his chin.  The noise stopped again, but didn’t stay gone for long.  As much as Angel enjoyed vampiric sex play, he was no longer a vampire and consequently no longer driven by a biological imperative to respect displays of vampiric dominance.  He was a man, a very sexually excited man whose equally excited and naked mate was press tightly against him.

With a full fledged growl, he broke out of her hold, turning the tables on her.  His mouth latched down on the tender flesh of his brand.  Buffy had to release his cock to grab the sides of the tub in an effort to steady herself and he took the opportunity to grab her hips and drop her down on his erection.  She keened loudly as her internal muscles rippled around his invading member.  All thoughts of games were forgotten as they began to move together slowly.

Releasing his bite, Angel breathed heavily against the fragrant flesh of her throat, "I love you, Buffy."

She laughed lightly, clenching her internal muscles around him.  "You’re just saying that because we’re having sex," Buffy teased.

He smiled against her skin.  "Do you have any idea how hard it was to find a woman who would let me bite her and bite me in return?" he asked, punctuating his question with a groan as she clenched around him again.

"Difficult?" she asked, trying to keep track of the conversation.

"Impossible," he agreed with a nod.  "Most women weren’t into going to work with visible teeth marks on their skin."

"Nice to know I’m just that much of a freak," Buffy said wryly, nonplussed at his discussion of former lovers while they were fucking.

"You’re not a freak, baby," he hissed.  "You’re perfect."

Buffy smiled, twining her fingers through his hair and guiding his lips to her own.  Their tongues dueled for long moments while Angel’s hand moved from her hip, down to stroke her clit.  She gasped against his mouth, whimpering in need.  Forgetting her earlier teasing, Angel gave her what she wanted and pulled his head back to look at her as her climax washed through her.  He only had a moment to savor the view before joining her in bliss.

"We’re gonna get so fat," Buffy said around a bite of her second piece of cold pizza.

"No we won’t," Angel said dismissively, his mouth full of chicken salad.  "We’ll just have to be sure to work it off."

Buffy looked at him and he waggled an eyebrow at her saucily.  She groaned.  They were naked, sitting on the kitchen floor in the dark with the refrigerator door open as they ate whatever was handy.

"At the rate we’re eating," she said, "we’re going to have to stay in bed for the next two weeks."

"And this would be a problem how?"

Buffy thought about it.  "Okay," she admitted, "I guess we can do that."

Angel squinted into the open refrigerator and Buffy laughed.  "I told you to put on your glasses," she said evilly.

He scowled at his wife who grinned unrepentantly.

"You got any whipped cream in there?"

"Why?" she asked cautiously.

He waggled his eyebrows again.

"Oh no, Mickey Rourke, don’t even think about it," she said flatly.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"We are not getting freaky with food, thank you very much."

"Please," he said with a roll of his eyes, "I remember very clearly you licking ice cream off of my chest."

"I never-" Buffy started and then stopped as she remembered.  "That was different," she said evenly.

"How?"

"We were at your place."

Angel’s brow furrowed.  "Is that supposed to make any sort of sense?"

"Your place, your sheets."

He laughed.  "You don’t want to do laundry?"

"I tried to get Hershey’s syrup out of sheets once," she said vaguely.  "Never again."

Angel scowled at the thought of his wife pouring chocolate syrup on another male.  He pushed the thought away.  They both had pasts and there was no way around that.  He looked around and his grin widened.

"What?" Buffy asked, wary of his expression.

"Linoleum cleans up really easily," he said, reaching for her.

"No," Buffy yelped with a laugh, trying to evade his grasping hands.

Nick stopped abruptly and looked at his parents who were sitting calmly at the kitchen island drinking coffee and reading different sections of the paper.  They were the picture of domestic life.

"What?" Buffy asked when she noticed her son’s strange expression.

"If you ever tell me why there is grape jelly hand print on the cabinet, I swear I will disown both of you."

The End

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