Title: Til Death or Demon
Characters: Fred/Wesley
Prompt: 37 - Everlasting
Word Count: 488
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Very, very AU. Sadly.
Summary: She's a vision in white silk and lace, a symbol of their love for each other and their bond on this day.
Notes: Written for ships50 on LiveJournal. Inspired by a prompt from an old ficathon, where I just found my old document writing down prompts I liked: "Angel, Wesley/Fred, Getting married." I own nothing, it all belongs to Joss.

She's a vision in white silk and lace. Wesley's reminded of the time they went to the ballet - that dress, the ballet dress, the red dress that served as a focal point to so many of his dreams for so long - except she looks, if possible, even more beautiful now than she did then. Maybe because, while the first dress was for the world to see, this one is worn for him. Not literally. It'd be more accurate to say that she's wearing it because of him. She's wearing it as a symbol of their love for each other and of the sanctity of the bond that they are instituting on this day.

For so long, he felt like he would never get to this point. That no one would be able to look past his battle-scarred self and see through to the part of him that desired love and affection just as anyone else, and elect to spend the rest of their lives together. To him, it was even more miraculous that he had reached this point with the woman he had loved - and had reciprocated his love, he's reminded - ever since around the time they'd met.

It's a small affair: just the remainder of the Angel Investigations gang and her parents, along with the befuddled priest from the neighborhood parish, who constantly crosses himself every time he catches a glance of Lorne out of the corner of his eye. He'd proclaim his love loud and strong every time, loud enough for the whole world to hear: he's madly in love with Winifred Burkle, and he could not be happier about it.

The priest pushes his glasses up on his nose and clears his throat loudly, and everyone in the audience snaps to attention. The words are lovely and traditional, but cold and impersonal for the breadth and depth of emotion he feels; they're not in a church, after all, by Angel's request and their acquiescence, they're in the lobby of the Hyperion.

"I, Winifred Burkle," she says, reciting the vows aloud that she knows by heart, feeling the intensity of the emotions circulating within them as she looks Wesley in the eye. He could not help but be entranced as she speaks, and he wants to clasp her to him - "in good times and in bad" - they knew the vows and would be faithful to them, but formality is an issue - "until death, or demon," she continues, throwing a sly wink to Wesley as she modified the wording, "do us part."

And people wondered why he loved her so.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest says, and Wesley takes the opportunity to bow his head in solemn virtue to kiss his wife - wife! - on the lips, tender and chaste - after all, they did have an audience. Their first kiss as a married couple. The first of many to come. And he couldn't wait.