PART 3:
Buffy silently closed the door behind her after she said goodbye to Marie and her sisters who had kindly left her on her own for a while, seemingly to get a grip of what had happened. Even if they had no clue what so ever of how much Buffy actually knew about their family and their future, they had all seem from her reaction to Nicholas and Baby, as the family seemed to call Alexei, how much the meeting had shocked the girl. And the Slayer had to admit they were correct, she couldn't have gotten out of that room fast enough. She had been quite certain that one more word from Alexei and she would have collapsed and blurted out the whole darn mess.....which had upset the Slayer excessively for she had always prided herself on being the kind of girl who, in her words, *did not cry*.
Buffy's shoulder's sagged in the long sleaved night-gown that she was still wearing. Leaning up against the door with a sigh she closed her eyes tightly, trying to will away the tears that she knew were threatening to fall.
How in the *world* did the Powers expect her to do this? Live with these wonderful people who she knew where going to eventually die? How did she tell those four lovely girls that none of them would live past their 23rd birthday?
And that darling little boy?....
The Slayer moaned, pushing herself off the large door and making her way silently over to one of the three beds that she suddenly realised where in the room. Blinking, Buffy plonked herself down and looked around the large, old fashioned bedroom, not being able to stop the gentle smile that slowly appeared on her face as she took in the surroundings.
The room that she would be sharing with Marie and Anastasia was simple and austere. She had found out from Alexandra that, like their other sisters, the "little pair" of the family had plain iron beds and crisp white sheets, just as all the daughters of the Tsars of history had done. Buffy found it amazing that such every day activities could have been passed down from so many generations. But apart from that, their bedroom was just as she had expected one to be for girls of their station in this period of time. There was a small desk in the corner and the borders and ceiling of the room were painted a soft pink, flowers and leaves circling the whole roof.
Quietly looking around with wide eyes, Buffy spied a large fireplace which, when she gracefully stood and walking over to it, she saw that on it, was a neat row of delicately-made Easter eggs. Marie must have kept them from year to year, the Slayer mused, thinking they must be presents from her sisters or given to her by her friends. They were malachite, and wood, and some of them were beautifully carved or encrusted with stones.
"How gorgeous..." Buffy whispered, stepping back from the fireplace as she turned around, taking the room in fully. The children's rooms, as she found they were still called, showed none of the opulence or luxury of their parents rooms, or the rest of the Palaces.
She came to the conclusion that she could seriously get used to living in such a charming bedroom, which if she was honest with herself, she had to admit was bigger than the entire bottom floor or her mother's house.
"But you won't be living here for much longer, Buffy." She suddenly muttered, giving her head a firm shake. "Just as soon as you can find a way home, your gonna be out of here."
But even coming from her own lips, the Slayer knew those words sounded incredibly weak. For she knew, after finding out just who the people really were who she was staying with, she couldn't just up and leave them. Not when she was quite certain their was something she could do to help them.
"But do I dare?" She whispered to the empty room.
"And that, miss Summers, is just the question you *should* be asking yourself."
Buffy spun on her heals, mentally cursing the night gown that limited her movement, her arms up in a obvious fighting position. Which, she realised, must look rather ridiculous with the clothes she was wearing.
Only to find herself face to face with someone who she *really* didn't think she would ever see again.
******
She blinked.
Then sighed in annoyance, letting her hands flop to her sides.
"What do *you* want?" she growled, her hands coming back up to rest on her hips as she glared daggers at the annoying half-demon who was leaning up against Anastasia's bed frame, his arms crossed in a similar fashion to her's, along with his ankles.
Whistler grinned, glad that the Slayer was in the exact same shape she had been in when he had last seen her in Sunnydale all those years ago. Although that nightie....
"Buffy, Lov." he drawled, taking his hat off to her mockingly before straightening, giving the Slayer a leering smile. "*Love* the outfit."
As soon as the words were out of his mouth the demon realised the Slayer was *not* in the mood for jokes. Fire flashed through her jade eyes as she stalked across the floor, giving Whistler no time to make a run for it.
Before he knew what was happening, she had reached out with one strong hand and delivered such a forceful slap to his check that the messenger rocked back on his heals, gripping the Grand Duchess' bed for balance.
Not bothering for his response, the slayer screamed at him with passion that surprised even herself, "WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU GUYS PLAYING AT!? DO YOU HAVE *ANY IDEA* WHO THOSE PEOPLE ARE!?"
Whistler blinked, stepping back with the force of her words. He had known the Slayer was gonna be pissed, but this?....
"THOSE PEOPLE ARE GOING TO DIE!! DO YOU GET THAT!? THEY. ARE. GOING. TO. DIE. AND YOUR MAKING ME WATCH IT!! HOW SICK ARE YOU!?"
"Buffy, that's enough!" Whistler snapped, calling her to order when he had finally had enough of her words. All traces of humour gone, the Messenger for the Powers That Be straightened his jacket, gave himself a mental and physical shake before continuing.
He raised his eyes to the Slayer's face, fully expecting to see her flushed and flustered from her screaming. What he didn't except to find were the tears pooling down her checks as she hic-upped, her blonde hair dancing around her head like some kind of weird halo from the gods.
He stared at her, completely and utterly stunned at her appearance. It was only then that he started to wonder if she would actually be able to handle this little assignment or not....
"Jesus, Buffy." Whistler breathed, wondering just how he was going to proceed now. But Buffy answered that question for him, sitting down on Anastasia's small, soft bed and burying her face in her hands as she took a few huge, slow breaths to try and calm herself down. Whistler waited respectfully, running his hand up and down her back soothingly before he realised just what he was doing and who was actually touching. He almost snatched his hand back, but knowing that Buffy was in shock, and desperate for familiar surroundings, he continued his actions, somehow strangely aware that she was grateful.
After a few minutes of silence, Buffy sighed and again raised her head, which Whistler noted was free of tears, even if her eyes were still rather red from crying.
She looked up at him with those wise, powerful eyes that he had respected so much from afar and asked in a soft, weak voice,
"Why am I here, Whistler?"
Slowly, the demon redrew his hand, which Buffy didn't even seem to notice him do, and took a seat beside her. They weren't facing each other but he could see out of the corner of his eye that she was watching him right back, her hands forming tight little balls in her lace and silk covered lap.
Finally, the messenger turned his head and face the young Slayer, knowing as he looked her up and down, just how hard this was going to be for her. She seemed so strong on the outside, but on the inside? It was as if she had deliberately placed a protective wall up inside herself so that no one could really reach her and see just how must of a frightened and lonely little girl she was.
Not since Angel had she let any one in so close, not even Willow....
That name made him jerk ever so slightly, reminding him of his quest and what he had to do.
And he knew that what he was about to tell her would break her heart.
*****
"There is something we need you to do, Buffy." Whistler began, then mentally cursed at such a lame beginning. But she didn't seem to notice, only turned in his direction with a cute little frown of confusion on her face.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked in a small voice.
Whistler looked back down, not being able to look her in the eye as he told her. "Its a quest. A journey if you will, that the Powers had chosen you for." He smiled at her when she opened her mouth to argue the point. Beating her to it, the demon explained.
"You were chosen before your birth, Buffy. So don't go blaming me for any of this."
If anything, that only made her even more confused. Giving the Slayer's knee a quick pat, Whistler gestured for her to get comfortable on the bed. The demon leaned back against the headboard so that they were now facing each other, Buffy at one end of the bed and Whistler at the other.
Folding his hands in his lap, he looked up into her eyes, knowing how important it was that she remember all that he was about to say.
"It's a child, Buffy." he told her quietly. "You have to find a child."
She wrinkled her nose up in confusion. Gesturing around her, she asked in a disbelieving tone, "Here?"
Whistler laughed, glad that she was seeing this with good spirit. "Yes." He was instantly serious again. "It's a *very* important child, who must be guarded with the utmost care."
She frowned. "Important to who?" Buffy asked, folding her arms across her chest.
But the demon only gave her a gentle smile. "They will be important to all of us."
Silence fell over the room before the Slayer suddenly asked. "Well, what's this got to do with me, for gods sake. I can't believe you chucked me through time to find some kid." She threw her hands into the air. "Where the hell did *that* come from? Are you trying to tell me this is the reason i'm here in the first place? All you had to do was ask, I probably would have done it anyway." She looked away and snorted.
"If you wanted someone to travel back in time I'd have to tell you that your best hope would have been Willow."
Whistler's response to that was strange. He didn't smile, or frown, or make any new expression, only stared across at her with the same wise mask he had always seemed to carry around.
Finally getting a bit fed up with it all, Buffy jumped off the bed, suddenly nervous, and started to pace the room, unconsciously hoping that Marie or one of the others didn't happen to come in and catch her talking to some strangely dressed man on Anastasia's bed.
She stopped abruptly.
Spinning back in Whistler's direction she frowned. "What has this got to do with the Romanovs, or all people? Okay, so the kid's in Russia, I get that much. But if you wanted me to be fully concentrated on the job, why saddle me with these guys?" she cocked her head to the side, giving him a knowing look.
"You would have had to know I would have gotten attached to them, to know whats gonna happen to them at least."
The messenger only shook his head, reaching out to grasp her hands in his. "The child will be *found* through them, Buffy. They will help you, even if they don't know they're doing it."
Buffy chewed on her lip. "What's this kid so important for anyway?" she asked, although she didn't really expect Whistler to tell her the answer. She wasn't disappointed.
He once again leered at her. "Now, Slayer, you of all people should know I can't tell you that." Looking up into the ceiling, the messenger seemingly made a decision about something for when he turned back down again, there was a new light in his eyes when he locked his gaze with Buffy's. Smiling softly, he tried to explain to her.
"From this little child will grow a new branch of life that will safe us hundreds of times over." Looking seriously into her eyes, he informed her frankly,
"If something happens to this child and it dies. Then we die."
Buffy sighed, stepping away from the bed again. Looking around, she walked over to the fireplace and idly picked up one of Marie's jewelled Easter eggs, ignoring Whistler's frown when she began tossing it back and forth between her two hands unconsciously.
But when something suddenly clicked in her head, the Slayer turned back to the demon in confusion. "But that means we will already be dead in the future...doesn't it?"
Standing up, he joined her, gently taking the egg out of her hands and placing it back in its crystal stand. "Its a cicle, Slayer." he told her. "A cicle that goes on and on and on." he cocked his head at her and with a grin, informed her, "This isn't the first time you've done this, Buffy."
Seeing her confused look, Whistler just laughed. "You will understand all in good time, Slayer."
Then he gently took her by the arm and lead her over to the huge French windows, where they stood, looking down into the majestic city of St Petersburg.
Not looking in her direction, when he spoke his voice was soft, seemingly regretful. "This isn't going to be easy, Buffy, i'm not going to lie to you...."
He broke off, tilting his head to get a better view of her calm face. "You know you can't go home until you find it."
She didn't answer, seemingly already coming to the same conclusion. She only gave a brief nod of her head and looked down at the floor, not wanting him to see the tears that we threatening to fall. He saw this and sighed, letting his head fall up against the window pane with a slight thump that vibrated through the silent room.
"The Powers have found a way to fix that, though." he said in a simple tone, as if it was the most casual thing in the world. Buffy cocked her head and stared at him in confusion which only made him grin slightly.
Raising his eyebrows in question he asked her, "How do you feel about being immortal?"
She blinked.
"Excuse me?" the Slayer asked disbelievingly, her mouth falling open charmingly in surprise.
He wiggled his eyebrows. "You know; never get old, don't have to worry about grey hair or getting killed, immortal." The half demon shrugged. "It's not a bad life, actually."
But she didn't seem to hear him, still stuck on the immortal bit. "Your...you made me immortal?" she whispered, her eyes glittering as a whole new world of opportunities suddenly opened up before her.
He nodded. "Well, not me exactly, my bosses did all the dirty work."
She choked, bringing her hands to cover her forehead, looking like she was going to faint any second. Frowning, he took a step in her direction, hands out stretched to catch her if she *did* fall, but she only waved him away, turning her back on him to stare out the window again, a thousand thought running through her powerful head. Still facing away from him, she whispered softly so that he barely heard her, "When I go back...will I, ahh...I mean, will I still be..."
"Yes, Slayer." he told her, sensing just how serious she was taking this, and just why...or *who* was taking up all her thoughts with her new status. "It is your reward." Whistler laughed when she snorted.
"The Powers aren't bad guys all the time, you know. They know how much this will mean to you...to the both of you."
She didn't bother correcting him, why should she? He knew better than most just how deep her and Angel's relationship ran. Even if she was with Riley now...she closed her eyes suddenly in dread, thoughts of her current boyfriend swimming to the top for the first time since she got here. But instantly she pushed the annoying barriers away. She would deal with *him* when she got back. The thought almost made her burst out laughing. She was back in a time before Riley's....or her own for that matter....grand parents were even born and she was debating the ways to break up with him. She knew he wasn't going to take it very well, but what did he *really* expect? For her to stay with him, especially now since she was immortal, when she could have her soulmate to share all eternity with?
And it was that thought that she knew she must hold close to her for the time she would be staying here in Russia. For she knew, if she could get though this; live with the thought that the wonderful family that she was going to be staying with was going to die...that those four beautiful teenage girls that she had grown so close to already in the few hours that she had been here where not going to get the oppotunity to grow up and get married, not to mention find the child and deliver it safely to Whistler and return home to her friends, there would be a whole new life waiting for her when she got back.
Looking up, she reached out and touched him softly on his shoulder, getting his attention just as the snow drops started to dance down from the heavens once again. He looked up, knowing what she was about to say deep in his heart.
Their were tears in her eyes when they meet gazes. But no regret. No annoyance at being picked for this task. She, better than anyone, knew how the Power's worked. She knew this wasn't something she could just ignore....and live.
Swallowing, she whispered softly, "Tell me friends..." The Slayer broke off, both of them knowing why. What was she meant to say? How could she possibly explain to them of the incredible journey she knew she was about to take part in. And who knew when she would see them again? It could be days, months, even years before she found this prodigal child she was now searching for and was allowed to return to her own time.
She knew now how Angel must have felt.....
That thought almost made her burst into tears. Looking up, her face was wise, hidden, as she whispered once again,
"Tell my friends I love them."
She stopped abruptly, not knowing how to continue. Then suddenly she reached up behind her neck with her hands and unclasped the necklace she had been wearing, only to gently lay it in Whistler's warm palm. Looking down, the demon saw a large, silver cross, and instantly recognised it.
He slowly raised his head, meeting her powerful, wilful gaze with equal force.
"Tell Angel I will come back to him." She gripped his hands tightly...desperately. "Please tell him I love him and I will come back."
Whistler said nothing, there was nothing left to say, and nodded his head in promise. They gazed at each other, two souls in a time that they didn't belong, both wanting nothing more than to return to their own.
But only one would be going home.
The other was doomed to search to world for the rest of her life, if need be, for a child who she wasn't sure even existed yet. And would be forced to watch the murder of the family who history and fate had ordered to help her.
"History is your tool, now, Buffy." Whistler suddenly spoke up in a strong voice. "You know what is to happen, therefore *you* will make all the rules." They locked eyes, both understanding the hidden meaning to that comment...If she dared spear the lives of her new found friends.
She looked down, not wanting to think about that. But when she felt Whistler give her a friendly pat on her shoulder she looked up, giving him one last smile, which he softly returned.
"Good luck, kid."
He told her.
Before disappearing into thin air.
*****
Ten minutes later Buffy heard a soft, almost hesitant knock on the bedroom door. Quickly standing up from the bed, she urgently wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to straighten her hair and clothes, finding it absurd that she was still wearing the bloody night dress while desperately trying to make it seem like nothing out of the ordinary had gone down in the bedroom just minutes before.
Turning to face the polished, wooden door, the Slayer called a soft "Come in." and braced herself for the questions she was certain were going to follow. After all, it was *she* who had been screaming her lungs out at Whistler, not really noticing that the walls had probably been eagerly taking in all she had said.
But as Tatiana's gentle face poked though the doorway, the chosen one breathed a huge sigh of relief, obviously thinking that it would have been Alexandra's curious head that would be questioning her.
"Are you alright, Buffy?" The 18 year old asked, silently closing the door behind her and gracefully floating across the floor, the Slayer finding herself in complete awe with the Grand Duchess' beauty. She had already come to the conclusion that it was Tatiana who was the darling of the girls, her mother's favioute. She was everything a daughter of the Tsar should be; graceful to the extent of a dancer, beautiful as a rose, her long urburn hair falling silkily down her back and her wise, gentle grey eyes taking in everything and everyone in the room. Tatiana was the social butterfly of the family, Buffy had guessed from the first second she had met her. But with all her beauty also came problems. She was painfully shy.
Around her family she was fine, the sisters actually calling her the "Governess" of the family. It anything needed to be asked from their parents it would be Tatiana who was chosen to ask them. She was exceedingly persuasive, her father proudly telling everyone that she could change the mind of the sternest army General in battle. But around people she didn't know....
Buffy grimaced, wondering if there was anything she could do to help the girl with that. Buffy, of course, wasn't in the least bit shy. She only hoped that she would be around her company long enough and maybe her shyness would start to fade...
But she *wouldn't* be around the Slayer for very long, Buffy reminded herself, not being able to met the girl's eyes as she took a seat beside her as Buffy slowly sake onto Anastasia's bed once again. For in just over three years time she would be dead....
Buffy turned her head away, feeling incredibly sick. Of all the death that she had been around in her time as the Slayer, it would be this one that she knew she wouldn't be able to handle. If there was only something she could do to help them....
"Buffy?"
The Slayer snapped her head up, meeting Tatiana's concerned gaze innocently, hoping the girl hadn't sensed any of her dark thoughts.
Sighing, she gave the Duchess a reassuring smile that didn't seem to reach her eyes. "Im fine, Tatiana, really."
The girl didn't seem very convinced, but she let it pass. It was then the Buffy suddenly realised that she had no idea about Whistler's visit. She had been terrified that they would have heard her shouting though the walls, but from the look on the younger girl's face, Buffy knew they hadn't any idea. There was no curiosity written anywhere on her features. Buffy let out a relieved breath, thankful for one thing she wouldn't have to explain.
Tatiana Nicholaievna thankfully didn't see this as she slowly rose from the bed, only to stand in front of the Slayer, causing Buffy to crain her neck to see her face, only to notice the girl was standing there with her hands on her hips, grinning mischievously.
Inclining her head to the side, causing her loose hair to fall over her right shoulder with the movement, she giggled and asked the curious Slayer,
"How about we get you out of those clothes?"
Buffy looked dumbly down at the night dress she still wore, only then realising that Tatiana had changed from when she had saw her slightly earlier in Alexei's room. The dress she now wore was more formal, indicating that something important was about to happen. It had cut off shoulders, that from the walk to and back form Baby's room, Buffy had noticed most Russian woman wore in the Palace, the curves dipping daringly into her breast. It was white, with sleaves that abruptly ended half way down Tatiana's forearms, only to be replaced later down by high white arm gloves. It was rather simple in design, the folds not really curving at all, just comfortably flaring ever so slightly at her waist, and down to her ankles where her white slippers could be seen. Looking closer she could she a sash of some sort had been tied around her waist, the light purple colouring contrasting wonderfully with the rest of the while evening gown.
Over all, Buffy thought it was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen.
Tatiana blushed when she saw Buffy staring at her, nervously rubbing her hands at the side of her dress. Buffy grinned, seeing what she was doing and jumped up off the bed, feeling sorry for the girl. Looking up at her new found friend, Buffy asked, "Do I really get to wear one of those?"
Tatiana just smiled and laughed, a sound Buffy instantly adored, gently taking the Slayer's arm in her's and leading her across the room and out the door. They didn't walk very far, just across the hallway actually, but to Buffy, it seemed a mile. She couldn't stop staring at the impressive art work and designs that seemed to be printed everywhere in the gigantic white palace.
But when Tatiana opened the door without knocking and walked right in, dragging Buffy with her, the American instantly sensed a totally different atmosphere in this room than the hallway they had just come from. Like Marie and Anastasia's room, Olga and Tatiana's was simple and child-like, even though the girls were both in their late teens. It was huge, both their beds separating the room into two equal spaces. Pressed up against one wall were something Buffy hadn't seem in the younger girl's room, two changing screens, the black oriental designs around the outline looking very exotic with the rest of the obviously Englishy room.
Marie had told Buffy earlier that Alexandra, who was a grand daughter of the British Queen Victoria, had been determined that her daughters grow up in a English environment, which obviously meant carpets on the floor and stuffed cushions in the many arm chairs and sofas that were filtered through the daughter's bedrooms. But Buffy decided she liked it, it reminded her somewhat of Giles' place in a way, something that comforted her greatly.
She spied the three other girls instantly, the 14 year old Anastasia Nicholaievna was standing on what Buffy guessed to be Olga's bed, spinning around as fast as she could, obviously trying to see how far out she could get her dress to flair. She was dressed in a gown similar to her sister's but it was more covering, and not as low cut at the front. The sash around the middle was also light blue, not purple as Tatiana's had been.
Marie was standing at the foot of the bed, looking up at her younger sister with a frown on her expressive, pretty face, a hair brush in the hand that wasn't on her hip.
"Ana, get off!" she scolded, reaching for her sister's long golden hair in a vain idea to *drag* the girl of the bed and finish getting ready. But Anastasia wasn't having any of it, she just ignored her sister and continued spinning.
Following Tatiana, Buffy saw Olga sitting at a vanity, desperatly sorting through a small, silver jewellery box. A silent maid was behind her, pinning up her long dark blonde hair in a style that Buffy saw was identical to how Tatiana and Marie were wearing theirs. It must be something to do with their ages, she mused, wondering why Anastasia wasn't wearing her loose, flowing locks up as well.
The eldest daughter looked up as they approached, a delighted smile instantly appearing on her face, making her blue eyes light up. Spinning around, she jumped off the chair and rushed towards them, taking her sister's hands in her's when she reached them in greeting. Giving Buffy a huge smile she giggled and clapped her hands.
"Your here!" Olga cried happily, reaching out to grip the bewildered Slayer's arm just as Tatiana let go of it and dragged her across the room. Tatiana followed slowly after them, chuckling softly with her sister's enthusiasm. As they reached what Buffy realised was a wardrobe her eyes went wide, taking in the rows and rows of silk, satin and other masses of material that seemed to jump out on them as Olga quickly pulled the sliding doors open for inspection.
Turning to the suddenly wary Slayer, she smiled and explained. "Mama told us about the clothes you were wearing when Mashka found you, that how you'd probably lost them on the way, or something, so we girls decided that since you are to being staying with us you should feel free to borrow as *many* clothes as you wish until we can get you a fitter in to make you some of your own."
Buffy winced, feeling awkward. Moving her feet, she sputtered, "You don't need to do that, really. I don't want to be a nuisance."
Olga dismissed her haughtily, waving her hand in the air. "Don't be silly, Buffy." she told her, giving her arm a quick squeeze as she smiled kindly. "We girls all share our clothes between us, and since you are about the same size as me and Tatty, it would be silly not to share them with you as well."
Grudgingly, Buffy had to admit she had a point. Especially since if she was meant to be searching for the Child, she would need some clothes to be able to mix into this society. Seeing her new friends agreement, Olga Nicholaievna grinned brilliantly and turned back to the clothes, muttering to herself unconsciously as she rummaged through them for the perfect outfit for the beautiful young Slayer.
She finally settled on a light blue satin gown, with white lace around the hem. It had at least three layers of meshy lace stuff on the front, and criss-cross pattens down the sides and across her breasts, which, like Tatiana's, were daringly shown in the typical Russian shoulderless gown. It fell to the floor, and when her arm gloves were placed on, Buffy had to admit she had never liked her reflection more. Her hair was up like the three older girls, a style that it was placed in without any consent of her own. She wore practically no make-up, and the only jewellery she had been given was a strand of pearls Marie had lovingly handed to her, and a pair of Tatiana's emerald earings.
By the time the jewellery had come, all four of the girls and their separate maids had stopped what they were doing and pitched in with getting her dressed. They had been amazed that she knew so little about the topic, Marie quietly promising the American that she would teach her how to tie a corset, something that made Buffy wince in dread. She had heard far to many horrid stories about those things to get into any happy mood about them, especially if they were going to be rearranging her internal organs, which she had heard they could sometimes do.
But at last, she was finished, the Slayer hardly recognising herself as Anastasia led her over to the full length mirror she hadn't even noticed before. As she stood their, her mouth slightly open in awe, the four girls all gathered around her, Anastasia wrapping her arms around her neck and giving her a big hug for a job well done. The five teenagers all stared at the mirror, their faces all reflecting a mixture of happy smiles and proud grins as they took in their appearance, four of them content to live like this, their lives blissfully happy and innocent in the very heart of an imperial Russia that would soon disappear forever. A missing Atlantis never to be seen again.
*****
Buffy nervously gripped Marie's hand as they were led down the *huge* staircase that separated the family apartments from the rest of the private rooms and across a glittering white hallway. She looked down at the red carpet that the silent butler was leading the five girls across, wondering just where it ended in this endless maze of rooms...if ever.
Suddenly she found herself in a dining room, the roaring fireplace toasting her already rosy skin. In the centre of the room was a long, polished wooden table that looked like it seated about 12 or so people. She noticed Nicholas and Alexandra were already seated, the gentle Tsar rising instantly when the five girls entered the room. He caught Buffy's eye and smiled warmly, telling her in a way that she was very much welcome at his table.
"Papa, don't you think Buffy looks wonderful?" Marie asked her father as he bent down and kissed her check. Buffy blushed, but Nicholas had a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he straightened.
"Yes, Mashka." he answered his third born. "She looks beautiful."
Alix chuckled, patting the seat beside her for the Slayer to take as her own. As Buffy slowly sank into the chair - still not used to the clothing - she noticed Alexei sitting right opposite her. She scrunched up her nose at him and quickly poked out her tongue, causing the little blonde boy to giggle in surprise and return the gesture. She noticed he was wearing a sailors suit and she had to admit it made him look even more adorable, the blue lining bringing out the twinkle in his eyes.
She looked around as the other girls took their places, all the servants suddenly bowing slightly and leaving the room. She was surprised, from what she had seen on tevleision about upper-class family during meal time, she had thought they were always present. But looking at each of their faces, seeing how the all instantly relaxed as the last of the doors were closed and they were left alone, Buffy was struck with just how *ordinary* this family was and how much they reminded her of when her, her mother and Dawn had all used to sit down for a nice family dinner.
It didn't matter that the head of the family was one of the greatest men in the world, when the sun fell and the moon rose, they became just like any other loving family and Buffy realised meal times must be one of the only times in the day they get to see each other. She gazed at Marie with a soft smile on her face, seeing how her face lit up with Alexei picked up his tree tomato and chucked it at Anastasia, causing the girl to shriek in surprise.
She felt privileged to be part of this, for she knew that soon it would be gone forever, never to be seen again by any of them.
Buffy silently closed the door behind her after she said goodbye to Marie and her sisters who had kindly left her on her own for a while, seemingly to get a grip of what had happened. Even if they had no clue what so ever of how much Buffy actually knew about their family and their future, they had all seem from her reaction to Nicholas and Baby, as the family seemed to call Alexei, how much the meeting had shocked the girl. And the Slayer had to admit they were correct, she couldn't have gotten out of that room fast enough. She had been quite certain that one more word from Alexei and she would have collapsed and blurted out the whole darn mess.....which had upset the Slayer excessively for she had always prided herself on being the kind of girl who, in her words, *did not cry*.
Buffy's shoulder's sagged in the long sleaved night-gown that she was still wearing. Leaning up against the door with a sigh she closed her eyes tightly, trying to will away the tears that she knew were threatening to fall.
How in the *world* did the Powers expect her to do this? Live with these wonderful people who she knew where going to eventually die? How did she tell those four lovely girls that none of them would live past their 23rd birthday?
And that darling little boy?....
The Slayer moaned, pushing herself off the large door and making her way silently over to one of the three beds that she suddenly realised where in the room. Blinking, Buffy plonked herself down and looked around the large, old fashioned bedroom, not being able to stop the gentle smile that slowly appeared on her face as she took in the surroundings.
The room that she would be sharing with Marie and Anastasia was simple and austere. She had found out from Alexandra that, like their other sisters, the "little pair" of the family had plain iron beds and crisp white sheets, just as all the daughters of the Tsars of history had done. Buffy found it amazing that such every day activities could have been passed down from so many generations. But apart from that, their bedroom was just as she had expected one to be for girls of their station in this period of time. There was a small desk in the corner and the borders and ceiling of the room were painted a soft pink, flowers and leaves circling the whole roof.
Quietly looking around with wide eyes, Buffy spied a large fireplace which, when she gracefully stood and walking over to it, she saw that on it, was a neat row of delicately-made Easter eggs. Marie must have kept them from year to year, the Slayer mused, thinking they must be presents from her sisters or given to her by her friends. They were malachite, and wood, and some of them were beautifully carved or encrusted with stones.
"How gorgeous..." Buffy whispered, stepping back from the fireplace as she turned around, taking the room in fully. The children's rooms, as she found they were still called, showed none of the opulence or luxury of their parents rooms, or the rest of the Palaces.
She came to the conclusion that she could seriously get used to living in such a charming bedroom, which if she was honest with herself, she had to admit was bigger than the entire bottom floor or her mother's house.
"But you won't be living here for much longer, Buffy." She suddenly muttered, giving her head a firm shake. "Just as soon as you can find a way home, your gonna be out of here."
But even coming from her own lips, the Slayer knew those words sounded incredibly weak. For she knew, after finding out just who the people really were who she was staying with, she couldn't just up and leave them. Not when she was quite certain their was something she could do to help them.
"But do I dare?" She whispered to the empty room.
"And that, miss Summers, is just the question you *should* be asking yourself."
Buffy spun on her heals, mentally cursing the night gown that limited her movement, her arms up in a obvious fighting position. Which, she realised, must look rather ridiculous with the clothes she was wearing.
Only to find herself face to face with someone who she *really* didn't think she would ever see again.
******
She blinked.
Then sighed in annoyance, letting her hands flop to her sides.
"What do *you* want?" she growled, her hands coming back up to rest on her hips as she glared daggers at the annoying half-demon who was leaning up against Anastasia's bed frame, his arms crossed in a similar fashion to her's, along with his ankles.
Whistler grinned, glad that the Slayer was in the exact same shape she had been in when he had last seen her in Sunnydale all those years ago. Although that nightie....
"Buffy, Lov." he drawled, taking his hat off to her mockingly before straightening, giving the Slayer a leering smile. "*Love* the outfit."
As soon as the words were out of his mouth the demon realised the Slayer was *not* in the mood for jokes. Fire flashed through her jade eyes as she stalked across the floor, giving Whistler no time to make a run for it.
Before he knew what was happening, she had reached out with one strong hand and delivered such a forceful slap to his check that the messenger rocked back on his heals, gripping the Grand Duchess' bed for balance.
Not bothering for his response, the slayer screamed at him with passion that surprised even herself, "WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU GUYS PLAYING AT!? DO YOU HAVE *ANY IDEA* WHO THOSE PEOPLE ARE!?"
Whistler blinked, stepping back with the force of her words. He had known the Slayer was gonna be pissed, but this?....
"THOSE PEOPLE ARE GOING TO DIE!! DO YOU GET THAT!? THEY. ARE. GOING. TO. DIE. AND YOUR MAKING ME WATCH IT!! HOW SICK ARE YOU!?"
"Buffy, that's enough!" Whistler snapped, calling her to order when he had finally had enough of her words. All traces of humour gone, the Messenger for the Powers That Be straightened his jacket, gave himself a mental and physical shake before continuing.
He raised his eyes to the Slayer's face, fully expecting to see her flushed and flustered from her screaming. What he didn't except to find were the tears pooling down her checks as she hic-upped, her blonde hair dancing around her head like some kind of weird halo from the gods.
He stared at her, completely and utterly stunned at her appearance. It was only then that he started to wonder if she would actually be able to handle this little assignment or not....
"Jesus, Buffy." Whistler breathed, wondering just how he was going to proceed now. But Buffy answered that question for him, sitting down on Anastasia's small, soft bed and burying her face in her hands as she took a few huge, slow breaths to try and calm herself down. Whistler waited respectfully, running his hand up and down her back soothingly before he realised just what he was doing and who was actually touching. He almost snatched his hand back, but knowing that Buffy was in shock, and desperate for familiar surroundings, he continued his actions, somehow strangely aware that she was grateful.
After a few minutes of silence, Buffy sighed and again raised her head, which Whistler noted was free of tears, even if her eyes were still rather red from crying.
She looked up at him with those wise, powerful eyes that he had respected so much from afar and asked in a soft, weak voice,
"Why am I here, Whistler?"
Slowly, the demon redrew his hand, which Buffy didn't even seem to notice him do, and took a seat beside her. They weren't facing each other but he could see out of the corner of his eye that she was watching him right back, her hands forming tight little balls in her lace and silk covered lap.
Finally, the messenger turned his head and face the young Slayer, knowing as he looked her up and down, just how hard this was going to be for her. She seemed so strong on the outside, but on the inside? It was as if she had deliberately placed a protective wall up inside herself so that no one could really reach her and see just how must of a frightened and lonely little girl she was.
Not since Angel had she let any one in so close, not even Willow....
That name made him jerk ever so slightly, reminding him of his quest and what he had to do.
And he knew that what he was about to tell her would break her heart.
*****
"There is something we need you to do, Buffy." Whistler began, then mentally cursed at such a lame beginning. But she didn't seem to notice, only turned in his direction with a cute little frown of confusion on her face.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked in a small voice.
Whistler looked back down, not being able to look her in the eye as he told her. "Its a quest. A journey if you will, that the Powers had chosen you for." He smiled at her when she opened her mouth to argue the point. Beating her to it, the demon explained.
"You were chosen before your birth, Buffy. So don't go blaming me for any of this."
If anything, that only made her even more confused. Giving the Slayer's knee a quick pat, Whistler gestured for her to get comfortable on the bed. The demon leaned back against the headboard so that they were now facing each other, Buffy at one end of the bed and Whistler at the other.
Folding his hands in his lap, he looked up into her eyes, knowing how important it was that she remember all that he was about to say.
"It's a child, Buffy." he told her quietly. "You have to find a child."
She wrinkled her nose up in confusion. Gesturing around her, she asked in a disbelieving tone, "Here?"
Whistler laughed, glad that she was seeing this with good spirit. "Yes." He was instantly serious again. "It's a *very* important child, who must be guarded with the utmost care."
She frowned. "Important to who?" Buffy asked, folding her arms across her chest.
But the demon only gave her a gentle smile. "They will be important to all of us."
Silence fell over the room before the Slayer suddenly asked. "Well, what's this got to do with me, for gods sake. I can't believe you chucked me through time to find some kid." She threw her hands into the air. "Where the hell did *that* come from? Are you trying to tell me this is the reason i'm here in the first place? All you had to do was ask, I probably would have done it anyway." She looked away and snorted.
"If you wanted someone to travel back in time I'd have to tell you that your best hope would have been Willow."
Whistler's response to that was strange. He didn't smile, or frown, or make any new expression, only stared across at her with the same wise mask he had always seemed to carry around.
Finally getting a bit fed up with it all, Buffy jumped off the bed, suddenly nervous, and started to pace the room, unconsciously hoping that Marie or one of the others didn't happen to come in and catch her talking to some strangely dressed man on Anastasia's bed.
She stopped abruptly.
Spinning back in Whistler's direction she frowned. "What has this got to do with the Romanovs, or all people? Okay, so the kid's in Russia, I get that much. But if you wanted me to be fully concentrated on the job, why saddle me with these guys?" she cocked her head to the side, giving him a knowing look.
"You would have had to know I would have gotten attached to them, to know whats gonna happen to them at least."
The messenger only shook his head, reaching out to grasp her hands in his. "The child will be *found* through them, Buffy. They will help you, even if they don't know they're doing it."
Buffy chewed on her lip. "What's this kid so important for anyway?" she asked, although she didn't really expect Whistler to tell her the answer. She wasn't disappointed.
He once again leered at her. "Now, Slayer, you of all people should know I can't tell you that." Looking up into the ceiling, the messenger seemingly made a decision about something for when he turned back down again, there was a new light in his eyes when he locked his gaze with Buffy's. Smiling softly, he tried to explain to her.
"From this little child will grow a new branch of life that will safe us hundreds of times over." Looking seriously into her eyes, he informed her frankly,
"If something happens to this child and it dies. Then we die."
Buffy sighed, stepping away from the bed again. Looking around, she walked over to the fireplace and idly picked up one of Marie's jewelled Easter eggs, ignoring Whistler's frown when she began tossing it back and forth between her two hands unconsciously.
But when something suddenly clicked in her head, the Slayer turned back to the demon in confusion. "But that means we will already be dead in the future...doesn't it?"
Standing up, he joined her, gently taking the egg out of her hands and placing it back in its crystal stand. "Its a cicle, Slayer." he told her. "A cicle that goes on and on and on." he cocked his head at her and with a grin, informed her, "This isn't the first time you've done this, Buffy."
Seeing her confused look, Whistler just laughed. "You will understand all in good time, Slayer."
Then he gently took her by the arm and lead her over to the huge French windows, where they stood, looking down into the majestic city of St Petersburg.
Not looking in her direction, when he spoke his voice was soft, seemingly regretful. "This isn't going to be easy, Buffy, i'm not going to lie to you...."
He broke off, tilting his head to get a better view of her calm face. "You know you can't go home until you find it."
She didn't answer, seemingly already coming to the same conclusion. She only gave a brief nod of her head and looked down at the floor, not wanting him to see the tears that we threatening to fall. He saw this and sighed, letting his head fall up against the window pane with a slight thump that vibrated through the silent room.
"The Powers have found a way to fix that, though." he said in a simple tone, as if it was the most casual thing in the world. Buffy cocked her head and stared at him in confusion which only made him grin slightly.
Raising his eyebrows in question he asked her, "How do you feel about being immortal?"
She blinked.
"Excuse me?" the Slayer asked disbelievingly, her mouth falling open charmingly in surprise.
He wiggled his eyebrows. "You know; never get old, don't have to worry about grey hair or getting killed, immortal." The half demon shrugged. "It's not a bad life, actually."
But she didn't seem to hear him, still stuck on the immortal bit. "Your...you made me immortal?" she whispered, her eyes glittering as a whole new world of opportunities suddenly opened up before her.
He nodded. "Well, not me exactly, my bosses did all the dirty work."
She choked, bringing her hands to cover her forehead, looking like she was going to faint any second. Frowning, he took a step in her direction, hands out stretched to catch her if she *did* fall, but she only waved him away, turning her back on him to stare out the window again, a thousand thought running through her powerful head. Still facing away from him, she whispered softly so that he barely heard her, "When I go back...will I, ahh...I mean, will I still be..."
"Yes, Slayer." he told her, sensing just how serious she was taking this, and just why...or *who* was taking up all her thoughts with her new status. "It is your reward." Whistler laughed when she snorted.
"The Powers aren't bad guys all the time, you know. They know how much this will mean to you...to the both of you."
She didn't bother correcting him, why should she? He knew better than most just how deep her and Angel's relationship ran. Even if she was with Riley now...she closed her eyes suddenly in dread, thoughts of her current boyfriend swimming to the top for the first time since she got here. But instantly she pushed the annoying barriers away. She would deal with *him* when she got back. The thought almost made her burst out laughing. She was back in a time before Riley's....or her own for that matter....grand parents were even born and she was debating the ways to break up with him. She knew he wasn't going to take it very well, but what did he *really* expect? For her to stay with him, especially now since she was immortal, when she could have her soulmate to share all eternity with?
And it was that thought that she knew she must hold close to her for the time she would be staying here in Russia. For she knew, if she could get though this; live with the thought that the wonderful family that she was going to be staying with was going to die...that those four beautiful teenage girls that she had grown so close to already in the few hours that she had been here where not going to get the oppotunity to grow up and get married, not to mention find the child and deliver it safely to Whistler and return home to her friends, there would be a whole new life waiting for her when she got back.
Looking up, she reached out and touched him softly on his shoulder, getting his attention just as the snow drops started to dance down from the heavens once again. He looked up, knowing what she was about to say deep in his heart.
Their were tears in her eyes when they meet gazes. But no regret. No annoyance at being picked for this task. She, better than anyone, knew how the Power's worked. She knew this wasn't something she could just ignore....and live.
Swallowing, she whispered softly, "Tell me friends..." The Slayer broke off, both of them knowing why. What was she meant to say? How could she possibly explain to them of the incredible journey she knew she was about to take part in. And who knew when she would see them again? It could be days, months, even years before she found this prodigal child she was now searching for and was allowed to return to her own time.
She knew now how Angel must have felt.....
That thought almost made her burst into tears. Looking up, her face was wise, hidden, as she whispered once again,
"Tell my friends I love them."
She stopped abruptly, not knowing how to continue. Then suddenly she reached up behind her neck with her hands and unclasped the necklace she had been wearing, only to gently lay it in Whistler's warm palm. Looking down, the demon saw a large, silver cross, and instantly recognised it.
He slowly raised his head, meeting her powerful, wilful gaze with equal force.
"Tell Angel I will come back to him." She gripped his hands tightly...desperately. "Please tell him I love him and I will come back."
Whistler said nothing, there was nothing left to say, and nodded his head in promise. They gazed at each other, two souls in a time that they didn't belong, both wanting nothing more than to return to their own.
But only one would be going home.
The other was doomed to search to world for the rest of her life, if need be, for a child who she wasn't sure even existed yet. And would be forced to watch the murder of the family who history and fate had ordered to help her.
"History is your tool, now, Buffy." Whistler suddenly spoke up in a strong voice. "You know what is to happen, therefore *you* will make all the rules." They locked eyes, both understanding the hidden meaning to that comment...If she dared spear the lives of her new found friends.
She looked down, not wanting to think about that. But when she felt Whistler give her a friendly pat on her shoulder she looked up, giving him one last smile, which he softly returned.
"Good luck, kid."
He told her.
Before disappearing into thin air.
*****
Ten minutes later Buffy heard a soft, almost hesitant knock on the bedroom door. Quickly standing up from the bed, she urgently wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to straighten her hair and clothes, finding it absurd that she was still wearing the bloody night dress while desperately trying to make it seem like nothing out of the ordinary had gone down in the bedroom just minutes before.
Turning to face the polished, wooden door, the Slayer called a soft "Come in." and braced herself for the questions she was certain were going to follow. After all, it was *she* who had been screaming her lungs out at Whistler, not really noticing that the walls had probably been eagerly taking in all she had said.
But as Tatiana's gentle face poked though the doorway, the chosen one breathed a huge sigh of relief, obviously thinking that it would have been Alexandra's curious head that would be questioning her.
"Are you alright, Buffy?" The 18 year old asked, silently closing the door behind her and gracefully floating across the floor, the Slayer finding herself in complete awe with the Grand Duchess' beauty. She had already come to the conclusion that it was Tatiana who was the darling of the girls, her mother's favioute. She was everything a daughter of the Tsar should be; graceful to the extent of a dancer, beautiful as a rose, her long urburn hair falling silkily down her back and her wise, gentle grey eyes taking in everything and everyone in the room. Tatiana was the social butterfly of the family, Buffy had guessed from the first second she had met her. But with all her beauty also came problems. She was painfully shy.
Around her family she was fine, the sisters actually calling her the "Governess" of the family. It anything needed to be asked from their parents it would be Tatiana who was chosen to ask them. She was exceedingly persuasive, her father proudly telling everyone that she could change the mind of the sternest army General in battle. But around people she didn't know....
Buffy grimaced, wondering if there was anything she could do to help the girl with that. Buffy, of course, wasn't in the least bit shy. She only hoped that she would be around her company long enough and maybe her shyness would start to fade...
But she *wouldn't* be around the Slayer for very long, Buffy reminded herself, not being able to met the girl's eyes as she took a seat beside her as Buffy slowly sake onto Anastasia's bed once again. For in just over three years time she would be dead....
Buffy turned her head away, feeling incredibly sick. Of all the death that she had been around in her time as the Slayer, it would be this one that she knew she wouldn't be able to handle. If there was only something she could do to help them....
"Buffy?"
The Slayer snapped her head up, meeting Tatiana's concerned gaze innocently, hoping the girl hadn't sensed any of her dark thoughts.
Sighing, she gave the Duchess a reassuring smile that didn't seem to reach her eyes. "Im fine, Tatiana, really."
The girl didn't seem very convinced, but she let it pass. It was then the Buffy suddenly realised that she had no idea about Whistler's visit. She had been terrified that they would have heard her shouting though the walls, but from the look on the younger girl's face, Buffy knew they hadn't any idea. There was no curiosity written anywhere on her features. Buffy let out a relieved breath, thankful for one thing she wouldn't have to explain.
Tatiana Nicholaievna thankfully didn't see this as she slowly rose from the bed, only to stand in front of the Slayer, causing Buffy to crain her neck to see her face, only to notice the girl was standing there with her hands on her hips, grinning mischievously.
Inclining her head to the side, causing her loose hair to fall over her right shoulder with the movement, she giggled and asked the curious Slayer,
"How about we get you out of those clothes?"
Buffy looked dumbly down at the night dress she still wore, only then realising that Tatiana had changed from when she had saw her slightly earlier in Alexei's room. The dress she now wore was more formal, indicating that something important was about to happen. It had cut off shoulders, that from the walk to and back form Baby's room, Buffy had noticed most Russian woman wore in the Palace, the curves dipping daringly into her breast. It was white, with sleaves that abruptly ended half way down Tatiana's forearms, only to be replaced later down by high white arm gloves. It was rather simple in design, the folds not really curving at all, just comfortably flaring ever so slightly at her waist, and down to her ankles where her white slippers could be seen. Looking closer she could she a sash of some sort had been tied around her waist, the light purple colouring contrasting wonderfully with the rest of the while evening gown.
Over all, Buffy thought it was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen.
Tatiana blushed when she saw Buffy staring at her, nervously rubbing her hands at the side of her dress. Buffy grinned, seeing what she was doing and jumped up off the bed, feeling sorry for the girl. Looking up at her new found friend, Buffy asked, "Do I really get to wear one of those?"
Tatiana just smiled and laughed, a sound Buffy instantly adored, gently taking the Slayer's arm in her's and leading her across the room and out the door. They didn't walk very far, just across the hallway actually, but to Buffy, it seemed a mile. She couldn't stop staring at the impressive art work and designs that seemed to be printed everywhere in the gigantic white palace.
But when Tatiana opened the door without knocking and walked right in, dragging Buffy with her, the American instantly sensed a totally different atmosphere in this room than the hallway they had just come from. Like Marie and Anastasia's room, Olga and Tatiana's was simple and child-like, even though the girls were both in their late teens. It was huge, both their beds separating the room into two equal spaces. Pressed up against one wall were something Buffy hadn't seem in the younger girl's room, two changing screens, the black oriental designs around the outline looking very exotic with the rest of the obviously Englishy room.
Marie had told Buffy earlier that Alexandra, who was a grand daughter of the British Queen Victoria, had been determined that her daughters grow up in a English environment, which obviously meant carpets on the floor and stuffed cushions in the many arm chairs and sofas that were filtered through the daughter's bedrooms. But Buffy decided she liked it, it reminded her somewhat of Giles' place in a way, something that comforted her greatly.
She spied the three other girls instantly, the 14 year old Anastasia Nicholaievna was standing on what Buffy guessed to be Olga's bed, spinning around as fast as she could, obviously trying to see how far out she could get her dress to flair. She was dressed in a gown similar to her sister's but it was more covering, and not as low cut at the front. The sash around the middle was also light blue, not purple as Tatiana's had been.
Marie was standing at the foot of the bed, looking up at her younger sister with a frown on her expressive, pretty face, a hair brush in the hand that wasn't on her hip.
"Ana, get off!" she scolded, reaching for her sister's long golden hair in a vain idea to *drag* the girl of the bed and finish getting ready. But Anastasia wasn't having any of it, she just ignored her sister and continued spinning.
Following Tatiana, Buffy saw Olga sitting at a vanity, desperatly sorting through a small, silver jewellery box. A silent maid was behind her, pinning up her long dark blonde hair in a style that Buffy saw was identical to how Tatiana and Marie were wearing theirs. It must be something to do with their ages, she mused, wondering why Anastasia wasn't wearing her loose, flowing locks up as well.
The eldest daughter looked up as they approached, a delighted smile instantly appearing on her face, making her blue eyes light up. Spinning around, she jumped off the chair and rushed towards them, taking her sister's hands in her's when she reached them in greeting. Giving Buffy a huge smile she giggled and clapped her hands.
"Your here!" Olga cried happily, reaching out to grip the bewildered Slayer's arm just as Tatiana let go of it and dragged her across the room. Tatiana followed slowly after them, chuckling softly with her sister's enthusiasm. As they reached what Buffy realised was a wardrobe her eyes went wide, taking in the rows and rows of silk, satin and other masses of material that seemed to jump out on them as Olga quickly pulled the sliding doors open for inspection.
Turning to the suddenly wary Slayer, she smiled and explained. "Mama told us about the clothes you were wearing when Mashka found you, that how you'd probably lost them on the way, or something, so we girls decided that since you are to being staying with us you should feel free to borrow as *many* clothes as you wish until we can get you a fitter in to make you some of your own."
Buffy winced, feeling awkward. Moving her feet, she sputtered, "You don't need to do that, really. I don't want to be a nuisance."
Olga dismissed her haughtily, waving her hand in the air. "Don't be silly, Buffy." she told her, giving her arm a quick squeeze as she smiled kindly. "We girls all share our clothes between us, and since you are about the same size as me and Tatty, it would be silly not to share them with you as well."
Grudgingly, Buffy had to admit she had a point. Especially since if she was meant to be searching for the Child, she would need some clothes to be able to mix into this society. Seeing her new friends agreement, Olga Nicholaievna grinned brilliantly and turned back to the clothes, muttering to herself unconsciously as she rummaged through them for the perfect outfit for the beautiful young Slayer.
She finally settled on a light blue satin gown, with white lace around the hem. It had at least three layers of meshy lace stuff on the front, and criss-cross pattens down the sides and across her breasts, which, like Tatiana's, were daringly shown in the typical Russian shoulderless gown. It fell to the floor, and when her arm gloves were placed on, Buffy had to admit she had never liked her reflection more. Her hair was up like the three older girls, a style that it was placed in without any consent of her own. She wore practically no make-up, and the only jewellery she had been given was a strand of pearls Marie had lovingly handed to her, and a pair of Tatiana's emerald earings.
By the time the jewellery had come, all four of the girls and their separate maids had stopped what they were doing and pitched in with getting her dressed. They had been amazed that she knew so little about the topic, Marie quietly promising the American that she would teach her how to tie a corset, something that made Buffy wince in dread. She had heard far to many horrid stories about those things to get into any happy mood about them, especially if they were going to be rearranging her internal organs, which she had heard they could sometimes do.
But at last, she was finished, the Slayer hardly recognising herself as Anastasia led her over to the full length mirror she hadn't even noticed before. As she stood their, her mouth slightly open in awe, the four girls all gathered around her, Anastasia wrapping her arms around her neck and giving her a big hug for a job well done. The five teenagers all stared at the mirror, their faces all reflecting a mixture of happy smiles and proud grins as they took in their appearance, four of them content to live like this, their lives blissfully happy and innocent in the very heart of an imperial Russia that would soon disappear forever. A missing Atlantis never to be seen again.
*****
Buffy nervously gripped Marie's hand as they were led down the *huge* staircase that separated the family apartments from the rest of the private rooms and across a glittering white hallway. She looked down at the red carpet that the silent butler was leading the five girls across, wondering just where it ended in this endless maze of rooms...if ever.
Suddenly she found herself in a dining room, the roaring fireplace toasting her already rosy skin. In the centre of the room was a long, polished wooden table that looked like it seated about 12 or so people. She noticed Nicholas and Alexandra were already seated, the gentle Tsar rising instantly when the five girls entered the room. He caught Buffy's eye and smiled warmly, telling her in a way that she was very much welcome at his table.
"Papa, don't you think Buffy looks wonderful?" Marie asked her father as he bent down and kissed her check. Buffy blushed, but Nicholas had a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he straightened.
"Yes, Mashka." he answered his third born. "She looks beautiful."
Alix chuckled, patting the seat beside her for the Slayer to take as her own. As Buffy slowly sank into the chair - still not used to the clothing - she noticed Alexei sitting right opposite her. She scrunched up her nose at him and quickly poked out her tongue, causing the little blonde boy to giggle in surprise and return the gesture. She noticed he was wearing a sailors suit and she had to admit it made him look even more adorable, the blue lining bringing out the twinkle in his eyes.
She looked around as the other girls took their places, all the servants suddenly bowing slightly and leaving the room. She was surprised, from what she had seen on tevleision about upper-class family during meal time, she had thought they were always present. But looking at each of their faces, seeing how the all instantly relaxed as the last of the doors were closed and they were left alone, Buffy was struck with just how *ordinary* this family was and how much they reminded her of when her, her mother and Dawn had all used to sit down for a nice family dinner.
It didn't matter that the head of the family was one of the greatest men in the world, when the sun fell and the moon rose, they became just like any other loving family and Buffy realised meal times must be one of the only times in the day they get to see each other. She gazed at Marie with a soft smile on her face, seeing how her face lit up with Alexei picked up his tree tomato and chucked it at Anastasia, causing the girl to shriek in surprise.
She felt privileged to be part of this, for she knew that soon it would be gone forever, never to be seen again by any of them.