Fic: "The Vampire As Metaphor..." Part XIII...
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 XIII...
License signed…You do have pull here, Potter noted to Smackles who
shrugged…Witnesses ready…A beaming Marie De Russell, a rather relieved…
Startin’ to think this might end badly for me…Hotel clerk Miss Ana and
her ever-suspicious beau, Detective Harris…Bride up front and center
in her makeshift yet rather lovely one had to admit, Potter thought,
gown…Father Sweeney proceeded with the ceremony…
Smackles having dutifully kept him from the bottle…Both the wine on
the hotel room table and the small flask of whiskey concealed on the
good Father’s person…He managed said ceremony with reasonable
coherence and accuracy…
Of course, while not a problem, Potter had noted to his bride as
they’d awaited Father Sweeney’s opening…He finding he’d pawned…Er,
misplaced…His Good Book…And requiring a replacement fletched by Miss
Ana…He and his people were not Catholics…
“Me neither…” Elizabeth had shrugged… “But a preacher’s a preacher’s,
right?...”
The history of the struggle for religious tolerance leading in part to
this new world empire, in nutshell format, Peter thought…
She eyeing him cautiously throughout the ceremony…
More to this little fellow than he lets on…Though…
Not sure if I wanna plumb those depths to find he’s like all the rest…
A touch sadly…
Father Sweeney a bit gaspy now as he bulled along…Dry, so dry…Yet…Eye
on the wine bottle on table…The goal in sight…
A grim look on the former Miss Springs’ face as she stared straight
ahead, avoiding now her plighted one’s look…
Won’t hafta to worry long about that…And the worse he is…The better…
Hard lass to figure…Potter thought, now eyeing the red-faced padre…She
actually seems a tad disappointed in me…What the damned devil…She and
her little band of schemers…Likely including our stalwart detective
who so conveniently shows up as boyfriend to the clerk girl who so
conveniently arranged for us to stay together…
At least Miss De Russell seems what she says she is, poor girl…
Well, I’ll to the bottom of this one way or another…Starting with a
good look at that book…Book…Whatever it really is and whoever it
really belongs to…
“Hey!!...” he yelped as Elizabeth prodded him in the side…
“Say ya, damnit…” she hissed…
Hmmn?...
“Laddie?...Do you take this woman?...” the Father eyed him… “…To have
and…”
“Etc, etc…Yeah, Father…He does…” Elizabeth insisted… “Right?...” she
eyed Potter…A killing look…
“Certainly, yes…” he frowned…Damn you, girl I already said I’d go
along…No need to look at me like you’ll pull a gun from under that
dress fold…Or that sharpen stick you keep jangling about in your
pockets…
Hmmn…Miss De Russell eyed the pair…
Well…Love does take stranger forms…And they certainly don’t look any
more unhappy than my…She pondered over “parents”…Hmmn…So confusing my
memories there…Somehow, not quite…Well…I must have been poor then…Yes,
before Father…Poor Papa…So recently dead…Became wealthy…Yes, that’s it…
She shook her head a little to clear it…
“And you, Elizabeth…Do you…?”
“Yeah, yeah…Kiss me, Petey…” she turned to Potter, lifting the
improvised veil Miss De Russell had provided…
“I think we should hear the details…” Potter noted dryly…Holding off
from her as she blinked…
Hey…Better than you have kissed these ruby beauties, limey-boy…she
frowned…Turning to the Father… “Right, finish up…”
“It is customary…” the Father noted…But glanced at the bottle…Then at
Smackles who made a quick, urging gesture…Get on with it…Accompanied
by a slight lifting of concealed confiscated whiskey bottle in pocket…
Ah, the Promised Land is at hand, dearly beloved…
“Yes…Do you Elizabeth, take Peter to be your lawful, wedded husband?…
To love, honor, and obey him?…So long as you both shall live?...”
Kinda hopin’ to avoid that…she thought…Still, so long as he ain’t a
magics type…Quick glance to Willie who’d dutifully done the required
magics sweep using a concealed talisman before a Slayer made such a
risky vow…
And it ain’t like we’re gonna live forever…Or even long…
One of us, anyway…
“Sure…I do…” she nodded…
Hmmn…No desire to kneel at his feet…Good…The one thing good ole Willie
was a lil’ worried about…Concealed occult ability…But a Slayer’s gotta
take a risk sometimes…
“May I?...” Potter asked, bringing her out of her reverie…
Oh, right…Hitched…
“Yeah, sure…” she felt a touch of lips…Willie eyeing them nervously…As
the kiss exceeded the polite minimum of a Slayer merely using a mark…
Elizabeth involuntarily putting an arm round Potter for a brief
instant before releasing and stepping back, a little unexpectedly
dazed…As the assembled group clapped…The happy couple staring at each
other…Potter apparently not a little dazed himself…Willie fidgeting a
bit in his spot as the good Father eyed him hopefully, his duty
faithfully executed…
Magics of the occult kind not really being Smackles’ concern here…
***
Vladimir eyed the product of Olive’s several hours’ effort…
The cleaning waif now in rather respectable dress…Not overly elegant…
Washed, brushed, and holding herself with surprisingly good carriage…A
respectable daughter of respectable parents, both sadly now deceased…
According to the story Olive had ceaselessly drummed into the girl…And
being shipped for burial back home…
He walked round the girl who repeated Olive’s instructions with a
diction which now nearly matched Olive’s own…Not bad, one must concede…
And the crash course in bourgeois etiquette seemed to be sufficient…
For an American, at least…
All a matter of a little force-fed education, Olive noted…The key to
social advancement, along with the bourgeois outer show of a few
clothes…
Hmmn…Yes…Whether one accepted the revolutionary nonsense or no…Clothes
indeed do make the man or woman, he conceded…
And yet…He frowned…
“This notion of traveling with the Slayer, in coffins on the same
train?...At her mercy?...Olive, dear…Surely Miss Springs is not so
foolish as to avoid checking anything so obvious…”
“Which, dear boy…” Olive smiled… “Is precisely why we will not be
traveling in the coffins…They are merely bait…”
Hmmn…
“Then?...”
“We travel like any other good passengers, with tickets and a sleeping
car…I naturally have booked separate berths…” she noted, demure smile
to which he returned a polite bow…
Thank God…
“With packing crates to use by day…And the coffins to alert us to any
intrusion…”
“How’s that…?”
“The Slayer or hopefully her assistant or assistants will naturally
check them first…And when they’re opened, a battery will heat a wire
to our crates, alerting us soundlessly…A trick Heinrich employs to
protect his own and those of his key minions’ lair and coffins…” she
noted… “I had my own and an extra prepared days ago…”
Really?...He eyed her…
So…A bit of intelligence vital to any action against Nash…An offering
of trust?...A hint my suggestion is not looked on completely
unfavorably…?
“Excellent…” he nodded, with genuine admiration which, in spite of
herself, she was rather pleased to acknowledge…
Foolish…But I get so little approbation at home…she sighed…
“But…Is it wise to let the Slayer or her assistant find the coffins
empty?...”
“They won’t be empty…” Olive smiled… “It’s a big city…We just need to
find a suitable couple before six am when they allow loading…”
“Sweetheart…” she turned to the girl… “Show us how much you miss your
poor mama and papa…”
The girl began weeping on cue, with sincerity…Nicely done, not too
over the top…Heartrending, really…Vladimir thought…If I had a heart in
the emotional sense to rend…
“Very good…” he nodded, slight frown…
“What now?...” Olive eyed him…
“I’m rather attached to my own coffin…” he sighed, shrugging… “It’s
been in the family for generations and I’ve never slept out of it…”
Like a little slice of home in a fine mahogany box…The interior lined
with the very carpeting from my boyhood room on the estate…The silver
dragon crest on top, from above the old castle fireplace…Ah…
“You brought it from Transylvania?...” she stared… She shook her head…
“You do realize the Watchers’ Council would be looking for just such a
shipment…And given your granduncle’s reputation…It would lead them
right to us…”
“It’s well concealed…I don’t think there’s any danger…But it’s
probably wise to follow your plan…I’ll simply have my people ship it
on later…” he noted…Graciously conceding…Though inwardly frowning…
Damn, what about my reputation?...I have made my own way in the
Underworld since trapping Granduncle Vlad in stasis with his own
mother’s crucifix…Lady, I am in no small way the reason men fear the
night…Especially in terms of their significant others of the female
persuasion…
Lord, Olive sighed…Aristocrats and their ridiculous obsessions…Almost
a pity if Heinrich succeeds in his plans, given his conservative mold
he’s sure to be limiting as to the full extent of violent social
reform we’ll be allowed to carry out…
Though I’m reasonably sure I’d have a crack at putting this smirking
fop against a wall…
***
Sadly, time failing to allow a lengthy honeymoon…Or even a suitable
wedding reception…Heck, even a fully suitable ceremony…The newlyweds
had been left alone to enjoy their few hours of nuptial bliss before
the train left the next…Well, this…Morning…
Elizabeth a bit startled to find Potter quite contentedly settling
down on the room’s sofa…She’d expected at least a try for the bed…
“Anything wrong?...” he looked up at her puzzled face as she stood
over him…
Geesh…Leastways lemma throw ya out of our conjugal bed…
Or not…Strictly to keep up appearances, ya know…Could look odd if
anyone pokes round…Say someone bent on killin’ the Slayer…
Finds Petey on the couch and next thing ya know, the killin’s off
while it asks twenty questions…”Say, Slayer, how come yer feller’s
sleepin’ here?...You got some Slayer clap thing?…Or don’t Slayers’
like it with human guys?...”
Embarassin’…And not good for the disguise…Eh…Just a last chore to keep
things hummin’ smoothly…Kind of a kindly gift to Dogmeat the Poet,
here…she thought…
Wonder how good he is?...Brit, but he’s got that thing some of them
have…Reserve?...Yeah, reserve…Lil’ more than meets the eye…Yeah…
Yeah…she frowned…A lil’ greedy bastard reserved in there…
Well…Can’t blame a dead man walkin’ for lookin’ out for number one and
his family…
He did say he had a brother and sister waitin’ on him…I guess I can
unders…
“Miss Springs?...Elizabeth?...” he tried…
Huh?... “Oh, yeah…Sorry, distracted…Kinda…” she hesitated… “You don’t
wanna come to bed?...I mean…”
Lord, is she blushing?...I wouldn’t have thought it possible…
“…I wouldn’t want ya to be uncomfortable…”
“I’m fine…Ummn…I just thought it would be better…More comfortable for
you…”
“Nice of yer…” she turned abruptly…Pausing by the bed as he sat up,
looking over to her, blanket round his shoulders…
Rather nice nightie that…
“Yeah, we best keep it businesslike, I guess…Just thought ya’d be more
comfortable…”
“Well…” he began… “If it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable…”
“What’s that supposed ta mean?...!” she snapped back, face a bit
reddening…
Is she?...Is that…?
She wiped hastily… “I’m not ‘comfy’ with guys in my bed, if that’s
what yer sayin’…Good night, ya limey jackass…!” she hopped into bed,
blowing out the lamp on bed table as she did…
Hmmn…
“Elizabeth…I didn’t mean it that way…”
“Elizabeth?...”
Lord…
American girls…
“I am sorry, Elizabeth…And I didn’t mean to hurt you…”
You scheming little…
“Right…Fine…Gunfight…” sound of her turning over in bed, blankets
pulled up…
Ah, well…No worse off, I suppose…
“Peter?...”
“Still here, love…”
“Ya wanna come over?...”
***