The Vampire as Metaphor...Book III of the (Semi) Complete Works of
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 X...
"Extra towels?" Elizabeth eyed Miss De Russell standing before their room's looking glass, engaged in brushing what to Miss Spring's slight disquiet proved to be rather long and luxuriant black hair...
Hoped it might be cut or at least a little less nice once outta the pins...Maybe some gray...But no such luck...
"What?" Marie looked a bit blankly at her roomie.
"The girl...I figured she was bringin' some extra towels since you like to clean up." Miss Springs nodded to the hallway. The said girl already exited by the door to the stairs at the far end of the corridor...
"Girl? Oh, yes..." Marie nodded, a bit wanly, turning from the mirror. "No, I just asked her to remind the desk clerk to call us early."
"Good idea..."
"How was Dr. Potter? Is he settled in all right?"
"Snug as a bug in a rug. He'll manage..." slight frown at naming of said Dr. Potter...
Laughin' up his sleeve at me back there.
Still, kinda nice ta know he ain't no stoop. Not that I can't handle his like...
"That's good...And how go the wedding plans?" Marie smiled. "Did he like the dress?"
"Yeah, he liked the dress..." slight sigh.
"Anything wrong?"
Nah, I don't feel a little hurt, she told herself. Jest pissed he caught on...
She looked at Marie's sympathetic face...Hmmn...
Well, gotta do somethin' to retrieve things. And always best to use the tools the Lord give ya...
"I think..." she carefully modulated a gulp. Overplayed it with Patter just now, don't wanna screw it twice in one night...
Need actin' lessons...Har, har...Funny, Brit boy...
"...I think he's gettin' cold feet..." she sighed.
"Oh, no..." Marie shook her lovely head. "He mustn't do that to you..."
An' he won't...If there's a God in Heaven. Elizabeth noted to herself firmly...
"Did he give any reason? I know you two only have known each other a short time but he seemed a man to keep his word...Why do men make such promises so fleetingly?"
"Yeah..." Miss Springs nodded. Moving to and sitting in chair close by the standing Marie... "I really thought he was a keeper. Which is why I..."
Shooting for the marbles here, may as well go all the way...
Incoherent sobbing...Head on cushioned armrest...
Lord for a fancy place this thing smells...She thought...
"Miss Springs? Elizabeth...?" Marie moved to her. "Is there anything I can do?" she put a hand on Miss Springs' shoulder, pulling chair close and sitting.
"I don't know what I'm gonna do now..." Elisabeth lifted her head. "I mean, what if..."
"If...?" Marie asked.
"My auntie out in California will kick me out fer sure..."
"Oh, my." Marie put hand to cheek. "Miss Springs? You didn't..."
"He was so lovely sweet..." Elisabeth sighed. "I was burnin' for 'im. Ya know how it gets sometimes..."
"Oh, yes..." Marie nodded.
She does? Miss Springs blinked a bit...
Figured I'd have to spell it out for a lady like this. Well, helps things along at that...
"But when was there time...?" Marie asked, gently.
"Love finds a way...Ya know?"
"Oh, yes..." nod.
Lady's not as prude as all that, I reckon...Elisabeth stared as Miss De Russell, frowning, rose, turning for the door. "We must summon your cousin at once. He must speak to Dr. Potter regarding the matter, man-to-..."
"Oh, no..." Elisabeth rose. Sincerely urgent... "You can't tell him...Nobody, see? I'd be much too much shamed..."
"But my poor girl...The gentleman must do right by you..."
Oh...He will...Now...Elisabeth thought.
"Maybe he...He jest needs some pushin'. Discretelike, ya know? I don't think he's really the bad sort Maybe I jest was too much for him."
"Always the way..." a trace of bitterness in Miss De Russell's tone that caught Elisabeth by surprise. "They do the damage and we pay for the goods..."
Hmmn...Marie paused, pondering. I almost get the feeling I've been in this situation before...Perhaps my wealthy father had some of his girls in trouble? She struggled to think, her spark of will quickly fading...
Yes...That must be it...My poor dead wealthy father's factory girls. She brushed it off and tried to focus on the matter at hand.
Miss Springs eyed her annoyed if somewhat wanly roomie...
Girl has been around for such a ladylike type...
"If he got the message...Not in so many words but just kinda pointed out to him? The way a gent should handle it? I think he'd come round and do the right thing by me."
"Leave it to me, dear." Marie patted her shoulder. "I'll speak to the shop manager..." she blinked. "I mean...I'll speak to the doctor." Yes, there's a good one in...No, wait...I think I mean…
"I mean Dr. Potter..." she said, suddenly. "Yes, I'll speak to him..."
Ummn...Ok...Elizabeth stared.
"I oughta come too..."
"It wouldn't humiliate you?" Marie asked.
"Nah..." brightly...Ummn... "I mean...Not if you don't bring it up in so many words..."
….
In the alley near the Germania, the Prince of the Dracule attempted to collect himself, brushing the refuse of the garbage bin into which Olive had unceremoniously dumped him after slamming him down following his little proposal of a revolutionary alliance against Nast...
Thank God and the Lord of Hell no one had borne witness to this humiliation. Though of course he'd been taken by surprise...
Oh, God...If ole Granduncle Vlad ever found out, even in his stasis prison...
Still...The key thing was his continued existence. Her message, obviously, that while she wasn't ready to accept his proposal just yet...
Things change...And everything is negotiable...
Yes, all-in-all not a bad outcome. Given that no one else human or demonic had seen. And the natural desire of the lady to make it clear she was not one to be trifled with.
He was grateful to find himself in relative good shape at the sound of footsteps...
"Mister...?" a vague call to him.
Can't place the voice. Oh, yes...
"Hello, my dear...It's 'Master', though." he explained to the little hotel cleaner who'd managed to slip out to see him.
"Sor' Master...I saw the lady. I tole her...What the other lady said to say...?"
"Ah, yes...Well, your Mistress is occupied." Tore her dress lifting my unconscious form into that damned bin...he did not say. "What did she say?"
"She's goin' with the people you wants her to. She et with 'em..."
"Fine, dear...You'd better go back and tend to your duties. Just make sure you pass by the lady's room from time to time in case she needs to contact you. And if you do speak with her, alone...Tell her Vladmir appreciates her good efforts. But only if she's alone...Do you understand, dear?"
"Yep..." she gave a soldierly salute like the ones she'd seen the soldier boys give during the war when she was little and they'd drilled near her home...
"Master..." she added.
He patted her head and returned the salute with an indulgent smile...
Charming thing, really...He noted to himself as she headed off.
Might be interesting to keep her alive until young womanhood and see what could be done with her...
Pygmalion with his own American Galatea...he mused. Well, certainly a better fate than she's likely to know as a miserably poor human urchin.
Or at dear Olive's hands...
….
I cannot believe that girl, Potter frowned at the mirror in his room...
Acting like that to further whatever little scheme she and that "cousin" of hers have in mind. Probably regarding that book which it's now clear belongs to neither of them...
Lord, did the other one steal it? Some rare and priceless tome they hope to sell?...
Though, why in California? Surely New York or Boston would be the places in this benighted land to sell an antique to some wealthy collector...Or at that why not back in London...?
"Maybe it's what's in the book..." he mused aloud. "Something they needed me to translate for them...Yes...Keep me close, get me to blindly translate it, then what? A quick knifing and dump one Potter in the local cesspool?"
Of course, on the other hand...She seemed such a sweet girl at times...
Perhaps she just...
No...Enough of this. Regardless of the young lady's true motives, Peter Soames Potter has other things to do than be the fool dupe and mark for a couple of Yank sharps. And if that "uncle", whoever Merritt was and whatever he was really to her, was murdered en route to New York...All the better to avoid the wily (if unskilled as actress) Miss Springs like...
"Dr. Potter...? My apologies, your door was open..."
"Miss De Russell..." Peter stared at Marie in dressing gown, coat loosely thrown over her shoulders.
"Hey, Pete..." Elizabeth smiled from the doorway. Still in black and lace gown... "Sorry to be interruptin' you again..."
"Miss Springs?" coolly... "May I ask..."
"Brought along an old friend I met just outside..." the voice of Willie Smackles. Followed by him in the flesh, with a large, silver- haired, red-faced man in black...Clerical?...Peter stared...Garb...
"Sure and blessin's on this happy gathering..." Sweeney beamed. Peering into the room...
One left for me I see. He noted contentedly as he nodded kindly to Miss De Russell and Miss Springs.
Praise be to the dear Father of us all...