Title: A delicate test
Author: clarrie
Disclaimer: Most of what you see is owned by, respectively, Joss Whedon, Fox, The WB, The estate of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Jean Marsh and Eileen Atkins, Bram Stoker and Laurie R King.
This is a Sherlock Holmes, Buffy, Dracula, Upstairs Downstairs, Beekeeper crossover. There was a bet.
An illustrated version of this fic can be found at www.geocities.com/bakesale_bitca/deltest.html


'Is this, what I'm paying for?' Bathory's disgusted tones rang out around the bare dwelling. 'What is that?'
'Well pleased to meet you too, I'm sure.' Albin sniffed.
Spike stepped forward and cleared his throat uneasily. 'Master Bathory - Albin,' he swept an arm out in clumsy introduction, 'Albin- Master Bathory.' He mumbled, 'You're not paying for him.'
'Ha!' Snorted Albin. 'I'm quite offended. That I would accept payment! Like some petty hoodlum! I may swoon - Be ready, Bertie dear, I could swoon at any moment.'
'Albin!' Spike gripped his forehead in frustration. 'Why don't you, and your new pet go and...'
'Oh, no William, I wouldn't miss this for the world.' Albin smiled pleasantly. 'Carry on, Mr Bathory.'


'Dalton? Where is Bathory?' Van Helsing half opened the study door to address his student. 'I wished to ask him - well, no matter.'
'He - He isn't...'
'Yes, yes, yes, Dalton. It was merely a trifling matter, It will not suffer for the waiting.' Van Helsing disappeared back into his study, before opening the door again a moment later. 'Dalton?'
'S-Sir?'
'I think perhaps the ladies would like some tea.'


'The time is upon us.' Bathory paused for effect, and rapidly resumed his speech when this was greeted with blank stares. 'I have received word from my sources in the Council that we will soon be given an opportunity beyond our wildest imaginings. My noble ancestor...'
'Oh THAT Bathory. ' Interrupted Albin. 'Ooh, I met her once.'
'Sir,' Bathory smiled indulgently, 'If I had a guinea for every vampire who claimed to have met my...'
'Big woman, mad as a goldfish. Had a bit of a ferrety look about her.'
'Yes, well,' Bathory cleared his throat self-consciously. 'The family portraits do show a certain noble intelligence...'


'Tea?' Van Helsing smiled as he poured. 'Miss Buck, Miss Finch - such a pretty name Miss Finch, like the little bird, charming, would you care for a sugar biscuit? They call them cookies in the Americas I believe, and scones are biscuits, I'm thinking it must make teatime rather like one of Mr Carroll's books, yes?'
'Mhf...'
'Swallow before speaking Ruby.'
'Oh my, another little bird, we shall have to be watchful with the seedcake, yes? Excuse my little jokes, my dears, I am an old man and I am afraid that I am given to using my age to permit me liberties.'
'Ere!'
'No, no, you misunderstand me, dear me, no.' Van Helsing took a sip of tea and sat back, smiling benevolently over his glasses, 'Miss Buck, you must not think for a moment that it is anything improper that I have in mind.'
'Very glad to hear it too.' Rose sipped primly. 'So then, begging your pardon of course sir, but what h'exactly is your intentions?'


'My ancestor,' Bathory closed his eyes in quite ecstasy, 'The shining, sharp culmination of countless centuries of breeding...'
'With a four year reign of terror?' Murmured Albin dissmissively under his breath, 'really my dear...'
'Cut short! Felled in her prime by those little - But, oh they, even they could not extinguish her totally.' He took a twisted pewter tube from within his coat pockets. 'Before her second death, whilst - no, no, before her first death, for surely the previous event was only the inevitable fulfilment of her natural potential - She made certain, arrangements.' He rolled the metal between the palms of his hands. 'You will have heard, no doubt, of the 'Bain Elizabette'. The most famous of her deeds, vitality secured by bathing in the blood of two dozen virgins...'
Albin looked up from the cat's cradle of twine he had spun around his fingers. 'I can believe it'
'You do? That is,' Bathory paused, a proud glow rising in his face. 'But of course you do.'
'I mean,' Albin twisted another loop around his wrist, 'as soon as you've finished draining virgin number four, number one will have begun to clot and so on. Rather a lot of trouble to go to if you ask me...'


'As you are of course, fully aware Miss Buck, Miss Finch and yourself are currently in the employ of the Bellamy household, under the butler, a Mr A. Hudson, yes?'
The two women nodded attentively, although Van Helsing noted that the younger of the pair also snaked her hand towards the tea tray in search of further confectionery.
'Now, my dear young misses, yes Miss Finch, please do continue to eat of those, perhaps if yourself and Miss Buck would care to take some home, yes? Where was I? I will forget my head next, I think. Ah yes, I have secured permission, that you will take temporary positions at another household, that of his sister-in-law, but this you knew, yes? Indeed, I thought so.' He leant forward and poured another cup. 'But you wonder, yes, why it is I am so eager to use the Bellamys' staff when there are so many others out there? Of course you do, you are not silly little misses, well, it is not anything you must worry about, I have taken an opportunity to... You must know that it is no normal household to which you will be going. You have heard of Mr Sherlock Holmes the detective, yes? It is fortunate indeed that the two Hudsons chose to live in such close proximity, ' Van Helsing laughed casually, 'But then, it is well known how we immigrants cluster, yes?'
Ruby looked up open mouthed from her teacup. 'Are you Scottish too then Mr Helsing?'


'Who is it?' Watson lifted his head from his arm. 'Who's there?'
'Dr... Dr, It's me I...'
'Go away.' He pushed the dying coals of the fire in hope of regenerating it a little. 'You're not wanted here.'
'Is Mr Holmes there? I wanted to speak to him, perhaps he would...' Dr Giles paused as Watson opened the door slightly. 'I thought perhaps...'
'He's not in, madam.' Watson snapped. 'As Mrs Hudson will have told you at the front door.'
'I wanted to...' Dr Giles struggled to assert herself as Watson attempted to shut the door. 'I came to apologise for - OH...' She fell to the floor, grasping at the door handle in an attempt to steady herself. 'Oh, dash it all,' she choked, 'go away yourself...'
'I... Is there...' Watson bent over the slumped form, concerned despite himself. 'Are you alright?'
'No,' barked Dr Giles wiping her eye with back of her hand. 'I think you've broken my blasted foot!'


'You understand me, yes?' Van Helsing smiled amiably at his new employees. 'You will do your duties as usual, only, you will be keeping a little eye out for me, yes?'
Rose and Ruby nodded silently.
'I will be asking that you do nothing more than that, I want nothing taken, no interfering, you are simply to observe, to be for me my eyes, you are able to do this for me?' He nodded in satisfaction at their ready agreement. 'You will be watching, yes, simply watching...'


'Watchers?' Albin blinked, 'But my dear, they're gentlemen. All face first in opium and ball deep in fourteen year old boys.'
'You have been away awhile Albin mate.' Interrupted Spike, noting the sudden reddening of Bathory's complexion and hopeful to prevent death by apoplexy at least long enough to enable them to collect on the deal. 'These are modern times, Albin, physical jerks and self denial.' He illustrated his point with a star jump. 'That's what we're up against.'
'Quite.' Bathory snapped his words out with an icy efficiency, unconsciously tightening and loosening his grip upon the tube containing the late Countess, 'You will all have participated in this kind of spell before I assume?'
'...'Spike opened his mouth to speak.
'No, no of course you haven't, why would you have?' Bathory raised his voice in a shrill yell of frustration. 'You've only been taking my money, exploiting my protection and letting me tie myself in knots covering for that stupid little bitch...' He stopped, mid sentence, at Spike's sudden presence at his throat.
'You can say what you like to Albin,' growled Spike softly into his ear, 'he thrives on it. You can have a go at me, I've let you down a bit, that's fair enough.' A bead of sweat rolled down Bathory's forehead as Spike increased the pressure on his neck slightly. 'But if you EVER talk about Dru like that again,' Spike let his employer fall to the ground, 'I'll kill you. Where you stand, and without warning. Got it?'
'Well, I...' Bathory scrambled to his feet and attempted to brush some dignity back into his rumpled frame. 'I... The Watchers, the Watchers should not pose a problem.' He decided to continue on this businesslike tangent. 'If you do your work properly you can be out of the country within twenty four hours, there will be I am reliably informed, only three Watchers at the scene.' He cleared his throat. 'And whilst they are of course not your primary target, if I have judged you correctly you will find it no great chore preventing them from being able to make any kind of identification whatsoever.'
'Mmm...' Drusilla hugged herself in anticipation. 'I shall have a fishee on a little dishee...'
'When the boat comes in.' Finished Albin happily from the corner. 'So - maintain your stance Bertie dear I may still swoon - you have, if I understand this correctly, a desire to resurrect your formidable ancestor, this, you intend to do, via the expert services of my good friends here,' He raised an eyebrow, 'With the blood of Slayers yet to be?'
Bathory placed his phial upon the table. 'Can I take it then that you will be, shall we say, assisting at the delivery?'
'Why not?' The effete vampire grinned wickedly. 'I always enjoy a night at the theatre...'