Fic: "The Vampire As Metaphor..." Part XV...
reg...@aol.com
William Soames Walthrop...
PG 13
Summary: A lost work of one William Soames Walthrop (...aka Spike) as
it was delivered at one of Cicely Addams' house parties, shortly
before Will's demise. See the reference to it in "Drusilla"...
Disclaimer: All BTVS characters remain the property of Joss Whedon,
Mutant Enemy, and all other owner/creators of the Buffy the Vampire
Slayer series...
Contributions to the recovery of the lost works of England's third
worst poet are always welcomed...
***
Part XV...
“You’re sure about this, Harris?...” the small but lithe man in rather
fine mixed light and dark blue suit eyed him from his chair…Hat
perched on the desk he was borrowing from a very reluctantly
consenting Port Authority supervisor as an “official inspector” from
Washington, D.C…
“I am…” Detective Harris nodded… “The girl has to be the Slayer…The
feller…Well, he has the look of a Watcher but if he is he’s a top-
notch actor as to wet-behind-the-ears…But in any case it’s her and the
Other Side is gunnin’ for her…”
“So you think it’s Secret Service business?...And you want to follow
her across country?...” the man drummed fingers…
“It’s gotta be the Hellmouth…We know Nast and his people have been
here and are lookin’…” Harris paused… “Are we interested or no?...”
“We are…As in President Grant is…And therefore we are…” the man
nodded… “And given what the Brits tried to do to the country during
the War, we don’t want them gaining sole control of something
important here…After all the Hellmouth appears to be on US soil…”
“That’s what I’m sayin’, Mr. West, sir…”
“Right…All right then, Harris…For now, it’s your baby…Follow the girl
and her companions and keep us informed…I’ll be in the neighborhood
bye-and-bye after my partner and I deal with a little…As in Dr.
Loveless-sized…Problem…” West smiled…Eyeing Harris…
“So…You really believe in this occult stuff, Harris?...The whole
Slayer/vampire, etc shebang?...”
“I’ve seen enough to convince me, sir…Though everything has an
explanation in Science, I guess…What matters is knowin’ how to deal
with the Enemy…Occult boys…Or Rebs…Or Brits…”
(Several in the Brit-to-a-man group eyeing Walthrop…Hmmn… Cicely
putting out a warning counterfrown…Literary license, people…)
West nodded thoughtfully… “Good…’Cause I’ve seen quite a few things
myself, whatever my partner may think of the supernatural…Keep a good
cross and stake handy, Harris…And try to keep operations to daylight
as much as possible…Nast’s folks are most vulnerable then and the
Slayer is less likely to cross you up since she and her Council prefer
to keep their hand hidden…”
“She is an American…” Harris noted… “I could try her if things get
hairy…”
“You could…But Slayers and their Council tend to see things in the
same light…And the Council being Brit-dominated, that light tends to
be the sun that never sets on their Empire…” West noted shrewdly… “But
it’s up to you, you’re the man on the spot till Artie and I show…”
“Right, sir…Sir?...”
“Alex?...”
“I was thinking of taking a friend along…For cover…My fiancée, as a
matter of fact…”
“Your fiancée?...” West, carefully… “She have an active death wish?…Or
is it something you want out of?...”
“I’ll look after her…She’s makin’ a stink about my goin’ and it would
be good cover if she came, since the Slayer and her friend do know me…
They’d wonder if I was alone…”
West sighed, then shrugged… “You know what you’re doing, that’s why
you’re here…But remember, Harris…” he stared intently… “I’ve had to
put the person I love most in the world at risk for the mission and I
expect you to do the same…”
Don’t ask, don’t tell…Harris thought… Even if everyone in the Service
knows about him and Gordon…
“I wouldn’t bring An along if I weren’t ready to put everything on
line for the mission…I know what’s at stake here, sir…”
“Good…Because if she’s in the way when we reach the scene I won’t look
out for her…And the risk here is more than just a bullet through the
guts…” wan smile… “Alex…Once she’s done you the benefit of cover put
her on a train or in a nice safe hotel room…”
“If I can, sir…”
“Right…” West had risen from his chair…Briefly eyeing a black-haired
mouse which darted now across the floor of the office…Harris looking
as well…
“Oh, and Harris?...”
“Sir?...” Harris noted the mouse had halted in the center of the room
and seemed to be chattering agitatedly…
“Run…!” West pointed to the door…Harris not needing another word,
raced with him for the door…Both men running back from the building as
men and women working about the Port Office area stared…
“Clear out!...” West called, waving them back…As an explosion from the
vacant office rocked the area…
“The good doctor having his early morning fun…” he noted, rising and
brushing off his suit as Harris did likewise…
***
6:15 am…Freight car of the New York Hudson River Railroad…
Hmmn…Vladimir frowned at the thin coverlet between himself and the
wood slats of the cover of his freight crate… If anyone had told me
this was the way the current Lord of the Dracule would be traveling
cross-continent…He sighed…Well, at least I brought some note paper and
quills and ink…Plenty of time to begin the long-put-off task of
writing my memoirs…
If only there were a bit more light in this damned thing…Now my own
dear coffin has that wonderful sealed oil lamp…Burning without visible
smoke through the ventilation hole…And the small wine cask, suitable
for wine or blood…And my portable writing desk…All those amenities
essential for long and boring travel…
All I can say is, I’d better be able to get this damned thing open at
night…Or some poor wretches on this train are going to have their
night’s sleep profoundedly and disturbingly disrupted…
Hope our little friend doesn’t get distracted by all the excitement of
travel and forgets us…Now, if I can just get this quill out…Ah…
Yes, “Memoirs of the House of Dracule…1125-1869…” Hmmn?...Ought I to
go back further?...The marauding barbarian chieftain years?...Damn…
Dropped the quill…
I’d wager…Well, one must be sensible in these hard economic times…The
five American greenbacks I took off that corpse the other night, yes…
Olive’s crate is bigger…
***
8:45 am…New York Hudson River Railroad station…Branch line to Buffalo
for transfer to the Buffalo-Chicago train…
“You got the tickets, Petey?...” Elizabeth addressed her new husband…
“Right here…” he patted his coat just above his waistcoat pocket…
“Don’t let the porter have the sachel…” Willie insisted…Eyeing the
sachel bag containing the Book, held firmly in Potter’s grip… “I can
take it if you like…”
“That won’t be necessary…” Peter said, firmly… “Besides I was planning
to make a start this morning once we’re settled…”
“It’s ok, Willie…” Elizabeth eyed Smackles… “Pete’s got it well in
hand…”
Yeah…Too well…And too many things vital to Humanity’s survival in
those unknown and uncertain Brit hands…Willie thought…
Miss DeRussell came to them… “Are we ready?...” she asked…
“Sure…” Elizabeth nodded…
“Are your bags secure, Miss DeRussell?…” Potter turned to her…
“Oh, yes…Alls ready…So, Mr. Smackles?...You are coming as far as
Chicago?...” she smiled at Willie…
“That’s right…I got business there…” he nodded…
Not so bad, after a night’s sleep…He thought, looking her over…She
catching his gaze and clearly preening a bit…
And not all that innocent, lady-like as she is…
Still, seems ok…
Elizabeth a bit peeved at the sudden focus of attention on only one
lady of the party…By both husband and “beloved cousin”…
“Lets make tracks…The car seats are first come, served…And I wanna
check our berths…” she noted…Putting arm round Potter’s…
“Hoist me up, there, honey…” she indicated the train car stair…
“Of course…” Potter climbed up…Was about to set down the sachel but
was halted by a loud cough from Smackles…Held the sachel and extended
an arm…
“Miss De Russell?...Here we go…”
Elizabeth’s look taking on a Slayer intensity…
“Ah, thank you, Dr. Potter…” Marie beamed at Potter, standing by him
in the train corridor…
“Dear?...” he offered an arm to Elizabeth…Who eyed him narrowly as she
gained the last step and entered the corridor…
What was that?...Her expression transparent…
Smackles frowning as he climbed aboard…
Yeah, got ‘im right where you want ‘im…
***