PART FOUR: "Aunty Olga"
The sound of birds chirping woke the Slayer the next morning.
She smiled, not bothering to open her eyes just yet, blissfully content just to lay there, still in her dreams where Angel was laying, curled up beside her in a huge king size bed covered from head to toe in fluffy flower-covered quilts.
Buffy stretched out, her feet not quite touching the end of the iron bed she was laying in, toasty warm from the cold wilderness that she knew, even though the birds were singing, lay outside the palace window. Brushing a strand of long blonde hair off her face, the Slayer took a sleepy breath and nuzzled back into her pillow, smiling when she caught the faint sent of Jasmine on the pillowcase.
Everything here seemed to have its own definite smell, the girl mused dreamily.
She lay there for a few more moments, not tired at all for the first time she could remember. The fact that she didn't have to get up in the middle of the night anymore for Patrol still amazed the Slayer, who normally didn't sleep a whole night anyway.
Buffy chuckled, thinking that thought over with her morning brain as she listened with her sensitive hearing the innocent sound of Marie and Anastasia's breathing. The two girls were still fast asleep, the late night they had all had the night before had obviously taken its toll on the two young teenagers.
After dinner, they had all moved into the family room and proceeded to spend the next few hours amusing themselves in ways Buffy didn't even think possible when referring to her own family.
Anastasia had amazed them all, of course, with her sense of humour, setting them all off into fits of giggles with her mimes and impersonations, even if Buffy didn't have a clue who she was impersonating most of the time.
Alexandra had read them a letter from the Dowager Empress; their Grandmother, Maria, who was in Denmark visiting some relatives, telling the girls that she should be back in a few weeks. Nicholas younger sister, Xenia, had gone with her, much to Alexandra's relief. Buffy could tell instantly that the three woman didn't get along very well.
But then, after fully tiring themselves out, Nicholas and Alexandra had gently herded the children off to their bedrooms, the Tsar carrying a fast asleep Alexei in his arms, the weak little boy nuzzling his nose under his father's chin, much to everyone's amusement.
Buffy remembered watching Marie and Anastasia resting by their beds, their head's bent in prayer as they whispered secrets to their lord. They had looked at her when they finished, obviously expecting her to do the same, but Buffy had quickly turned her head away, not being able to endure their innocently confused expressions a second longer. But they had let it go, probably hoping she would explain all to them when she felt comfortable enough, and whispered to her their blessing for a good nights sleep.
And here she was, barely awake the next morning, noting to herself that she had survived one night in her new life.
She turned her head slowly, opening her jade eyes finally to gaze out the tall windows beside her bed. Then suddenly, Buffy realised that this was the first time she had seen the Alexander Palace in the day light.
That thought made the Slayer's eyes snap open the rest of the way as a broad smile swam onto her face. She silently jumped out of bed, trying not to wake Mashka and Anastasia and desperately looked around the bedroom for a pair of slippers. Spying a pair by Marie's bed she hurried over to them and slid them on her already cold feet, catching sight of herself in the full length wall mirror as she did so.
She sighed. She had forgotten she had been redressed in the long night dress; the full sleeved, ankle length dress hardly suitable to be seen out in. Weighting her options, the Slayer just shrugged, not caring who saw her, and quickly tip-toed out of the room.
Looking left and right down the deserted corridor, Buffy saw the coast was clear and padded down across the carpet. After many false twists and turns she found her self pushing open a pair of French doors that she had found in what looked like a waiting room.
She caught her breath in total amazement.
Buffy knew that in all that she was bound to see in her long life time, *nothing* would compare to the simply stunning beauty she witnessed as she hesitantly took a step onto the third story balcony, ignoring her feet as they tapped on the wooden boards. Taking a slow step forward, the Slayer reached out and grasped the ivory railing, turning her head left and right as she soaked in the wonder of the Tsarskoe Selo grounds.
Tsarskoe Selo was the name for the huge parks, gardens, forests, islands, not to mention the two palaces in its residence; the Alexander and the Catherine, that lay 15 miles out of St Petersburg. The whole area was almost like another little city in itself, being surrounded in a huge golden wall from one end to the other. The only way one could enter Tsarskoe Selo was a single one lane road which was lined every hour of the day with hundreds of guards, all suspicious of anyone who dared use the path, ready to die protecting their Tsar and his little children who were protected behind those mighty walls.
In such privacy, the Tsar and his family had successfully cut themselves of from the rest of the world. They were hardly ever seen about St Petersburg, save for the public appearances they were expected to attend. Alexandra, who was a shy and nervous woman in public, was disliked by the Russian nobility, society mistaking her shyness for pride. Between Alexandra and her mother in-law, Maria, the Russian court had successfully been divided in two. Maria's friends, which were plenty for the previous Empress was a happy, sociable woman, and Alexandra's.
Nicholas was always worried about his darling wife. Concerned by the fact that her close circle of friends seemed to a lot smaller than everyone expected. Alix's closest friends were Lily Dehn and Anna Vyrubova, the three woman becoming inseparable when they came to visit. Anna, a young woman of lower blood who everyone called Anya, lived in a small palace the Empress had actually given her in one of the Tsarskoe Selo parks, so that they two woman were always together.
But it was because of this, and other reasons, that Alix had kept her daughters out of St Petersburg society for as long as she possibly could. She didn't want their innocent minds warped by the ever-changing fashions that were doing the rounds. The bored younger generation having nothing better to do with their time so they were always dabbling in the forbidden, Alexandra being horrified even more every time she would hear of a promising young Princess getting pregnant out of marriage by some lower class man who had promised her the world.
But to Buffy, she couldn't blame Alix for tucking her children up in this little world of theirs. To the rest of Russia, Tsarskoe Selo must seem like a hidden magickal city where the beautiful children of the Tsar were kept imprisoned.
It was so like that in fact, that there wasn't a single person of lower blood in Russia who could actually tell the four daughters apart when they were seen out with their parents. They were so alike in features, and their public appearances so few, that Nicholas and Alexandra's daughters were often seen as mystical, hauntingly beautiful princesses of centuries past.
"My, God." Buffy breathed, still clutching the railing. Leaning forward, she tipped herself over slightly and peered down at the snow cased ground below her. She could just make out the giant Greek pillars that dominated the grand entrance way to the palace.
Surprising herself completely, the Slayer suddenly giggled out loud. Horrified, she quickly brought her hand up to cover her mouth, looking around the balcony desperately in case anyone had heard her. But, thank god, she was still alone, and therefore able to digest her amazement of her surroundings in peace.
But she still couldn't wipe off the broad smile that was painted on her lips as she abruptly let go of the ivory railing, took a giant step back and began spinning herself around and around for no reason what so ever.
It was just the complete and utter freedom that she felt, standing out here on one of the largest and most intimidating balconies she had ever set foot on, in the middle of nowhere. All around her was snow. Fluffy white, lace-like snow that touched everything in its icy path, sparing no budded flower mercy as it painted the world with angel's wings.
Buffy blonde hair flew out behind her as she picked up the end of her night gown. She was grinning from ear to ear as she kept right on spinning, laughing out loud when the white walls of the Alexander Palace started to mix in together.
She was puffed when she finally halted, her checks turning a faint pink....but she had never in her life felt so alive.
So free.
Here there were no burdens, no responsibilities pressing down on her so demandingly that sometimes she was at a loss to who she really was, what her real purpose was in life. There was no mother to be constantly reminding her of what to do, no Riley to try and make her into something she wasn't.
She could just be herself. Just be Buffy Anne Summers from Sunnydale, California. Slayer extraordinaire.
Nicholas, Alexandra and their family were inviting her into their home, into their hearts, without knowing the first thing about her. They had seen something, something buried deep inside her, that had instantly drawn them to her like a moth.
And it was then Buffy knew that in her stay here in this time, she would change herself for no man. She would live this gift to the fullest. For if these people who had so lovingly brought her into their hearts were about to suffer at the merciless hands of Hades and the Fates, then she would do it for them. She would live...for them.
The faint sound of footprints behind her made the Slayer halt suddenly. Readying herself to turned around and face one of the girls who had most probably woken up surprised to find her gone from her bed, Buffy took a slight breath, trying to get the flush off her cheeks. And with a wide smile on her face, the Slayer put her hands behind her back and slowly turned around.
And there, standing gracefully against the white wall with her hands clasped simply in front of her, was a pretty woman in a shimmering blue gown. She was watching Buffy, her head cocked to the side thoughtfully, with a charming smile on her face.
The Slayer fumbled, hastily smoothing down her nightdress, wondering in the back of her mind why the woman wasn't saying anything. She was just standing there, gazing at her.
Lowering her eyes respectfully, Buffy curtsied quickly and tried to apologise. "I'm terribly sorry." she told the silent woman. "I didn't know anyone else was out here."
Still the woman didn't speak and Buffy had to bit the inside of her lip in frustration, wanting nothing more to snap at the woman to quit staring. But when Buffy heard to unmistakable sound of her taking a step forward, the Slayer instantly lowered her head, not wanting the woman to spy the anger that was flashing in her eyes.
The feeling of someone placing their finger under her chin made her flinch, but when she felt her head being lifted gently, Buffy found herself staring up into laughing blue eyes.
"It's quiet alright, my dear." The woman told the blonde Slayer in her thickly accented voice, grinning kindly. Slowly taking her finger from under Buffy's chin, she instead captured it gently in her hand, turning the stunned Slayer's head from side to side, eyeing her face critically. When she seemed to have finished the tall woman gave a unlady-like snort and pattered Buffy's cheek affectionately.
"I see my brother was correct. You are rather beautiful." she told the blonde casually, then frowned. "Although there is a subtle power in your eyes that I find quite disturbing."
Buffy jerked her head out of her grasp, not really caring anymore if she was going to insult this obvious noble or not. Taking a wary step back, Buffy folded her arms across her chest uncomfortably.
But the woman only laughed, clapping her hands together delightfully. "And yes, there is strength there as well!"
"Who are you?" Buffy demanded, getting fed up with her games.
The woman stopped clapping and again inclined her head to the side with a knowing smile. Quickly walking towards Buffy, she put an arm around the small Slayer's shoulders and steered her back to the railing, where they both once again looked out into the Russian winter.
After a beat, she told Buffy in a quiet voice, "I am someone who knows your not all that you seem to be, that there are things that you are not telling my brother and his family." She turned her head and shot Buffy a sly glance and shrugged her shoulders. "I dont know what, but after all that my brother has said about you, I knew I had to see you for myself."
The Slayer's eyebrows rose in confusion as she turned around, leaning her back against the railing and resting her elbows on it slightly behind her.
"Your brother?" she asked, not understanding her words. Then as soon as the words were out of her mouth she clicked. Realisation drawned as she asked, "Your Nicholas' sister?"
The woman nodded her head, smiled and reached out to tap Buffy head. "Your smart too. Good." Then to answer her question she told her, "My name is Olga Alexandrovna, and yes, I am Nicholas youngest sister."
Buffy raised her eyebrows in silent surprise and looked...really looked...and the woman for the first time. She appeared to be in her late 20s or early 30s, had dark brown hair like her brother and a strong, confident aura about her. Buffy instantly knew Olga was no push over. But the thing that drew Buffy to her to most where her eyes. They were a startling shade of blue and looked powerful and strong as steal. But there was a obvious hint of sadness to them that made the Slayer realise that lovely Olga's life had not always been a happy one.
But Buffy's train of thought was broken as Olga suddenly pushed off from the railing and grasp Buffy's hand in her's. Seeing the Slayer was confused, the pretty woman only laughed and kindly wrapped an arm around the blonde's small shoulders.
As she steered Buffy through the door that led back into the palace, she informed the Slayer casually, "If you are going to be staying with this lot there are some things you have to remember. Firstly, on Saturday I *always* take the children into town." She shrugged. "I don't know why, but I always have, ever since they were little. And since it just happens to be Saturday..." she let the conversation trail off.
By now they were nearing the little pair's bedroom and the obvious sound of Anastasia's laughter brought smiles to both the woman's faces. Just before she knocked on the door, Olga bent down and whispered in Buffy's ear,
"And today's shopping trip centres entirely on you, my dear."
Buffy looked startled, glancing up at her. Olga caught her look and grinned. "They did say yesterday that you would be getting some new clothes, no?"
********
The city of St Petersburg, two hours later....
As the Troika raced down the Nevsky Prospect, Buffy lowered the hood of the thick ermine fur coat she was wearing so it almost covered her eyes, allowing it to cover her freezing ears as she watched the huge houses blast by as the four powerful black horses plunged ahead, knowing the terrain well. She had to admit she wasn't nearly as cold as she thought she would be, but the cover on the Troika slay was down so the seven passengers in the carriage were well covered. She knew without looking that trailing them was another carriage, decked with the three bodyguard-like people Nicholas and Alexandra had insisted they take with them on their shopping trip. As the Emperor had sadly informed them, the streets of Russia just weren't as safe as they used to be, especially now that the war was on.
From her seat in the carriage, Buffy leaned over and rested her elbows on the open window, gazing in amazement at all the old fashioned buildings that they passed. There were some real beauties, she decided, eyeing some of the grand domes that sat on top of the many churches that filled St Petersburg's streets. Smiling, she waved ever so slightly at a group of peasants who hurried off the road as the Troika sped past them, looking up at the magnificent carriage that, while they were freezing out in the wilderness, kept its charges snug and warm inside its belly.
The Slayer closed her eyes when she heard the unmistakable sound of the church bells start to ring, saying a silent prayer to what ever god existed that they get through this day without any troubles. But when a little hand snaked its way into her own and gave it a gentle squeeze, Buffy opened her hooded eyes slowly, finding herself staring down into Alexei's concerned little face.
He didn't say anything, not wanting to draw the attention of his sisters or Aunt, and Buffy realised that somehow, this little boy understood what she must being going through.
From what she had heard from Marie and her sisters, and from what she had actually seen with her own eyes, Alexei wasn't a healthy child and so he didn't get to get away from the Alexander Palace often. What was exactly wrong with him, well, Buffy didn't actually know, but she knew it must be something serious for all the extra attention he received from members of his family. He was always surrounded by people, not to mention his nervous mother, who seemed to think that the slightest little knock could cause him harm. But for all that, Buffy had completely fallen for the boy, she found him absolutely adorable, just as everyone else did.
So now, when he looked up at her with his huge blue eyes from where he was sitting next to her, she reached over and kissed the top of his head and ruffled his hair, silently telling him that she was fine. The 11 year old Tsarevich gave a sigh and leaned his head against her ermine fur covered shoulder, their blonde hair mixing, their hands resting in Buffy lap...both of them still clasped tightly.
Together, the Slayer and the heir stared out blankly into the streets of Russia's most proudest and grandest city...the fact that both of them were trapped in positions by birth that they hadn't chosen, and didn't necessarily want, not realised by either of them.
*****
"Wow."
The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
But seriously, what else was she meant to say when the carriage door was finally opened after the Troika came to a stop, and she had raised her head to catch her first glimpse at the store they would be shopping in for the next few hours.
It was huge.
"Forget the Sunnydale mall, i'm in heaven." Buffy muttered, not able to tear her eyes from the imposing building that was towering in front of them. It looked for all the world like some of the old fashioned hotels back in the older cities in America. There were a lot of framed widows, one above each over, all of them with the obvious Greek style that their creator must have had in mind when he designed them. It was obviously a department store, even if it was only four floors high, the grand entrance way busy with fashionable people as they came and went.
As Tatiana took her arm, all of the Romanov children not sparing the wonderful building a second glance, Buffy couldn't help staring at some of the beautifully dressed woman that were milling around. She instantly felt a little uneasy, knowing she could never be as graceful or elegant as most of them.
Still, she had to admit she looked wonderful. Olga Alexandrovna had helped the girls choose Buffy clothes today and they had decided to pull out the big guns, so to speck, considering after today she would have clothes of her own to wear. So that was how she now found herself dressed in one of Tatiana's most beautiful day outfits. The skirt was made of the softest dark green silk Buffy had ever seen, the skirts reaching her ankles, but only flaring slightly. The same as yesterday, she found herself wearing a tight fitting jacket, the long sleaves pooling out as her wrists with light cream coloured hems. It had shiny black buttons in the front, which were done up to her breasts, where it suddenly opened, allowing the top of her chest to be seen along with her neck, only being covered in a light covering of white lace.
Gracefully, Buffy reached up with frozen fingers and slowly lowered the ermine fur lined hood that had been covering her head, letting her hair catch the sun's rays. It was piled loosely on top of her head in shining, soft curls, threaded through with ruby stones, with glittered brightly. In her ears were small greenstones while attached to them, allowing silver chains to fall from them, little rubies were filtered through.
A little shy, she stuck closely to Marie, who smiled when she saw what Buffy was doing, as a uniformed porter offered her his hand. After a beat, in which she had seriously been considering getting down by herself, the Slayer smiled warmly at the distinguished young man and allowed him to take her hand, gently leading her out of the carriage and onto the busy city street.
As she waited for the others, the Slayer again looked around her, eyes wide in awe at all the foreign sights. There was only a few cars that she could see, and even then she only recognised them as the ones from museums. High strung men and woman sat in them, the men wrapped in furs while their lady counterparts had hoods similar to the ones she was wearing now wrapped around their heads so keep their hair in place. All the rest of transport on the cobbled roads were Troikas.
"Buffy?" a voice whispered to her. It was Marie, and when the Slayer turned around, she saw that Olga Nicholaievna was just being helped down from the carriage, the last person to exit the Troika. Marie had her hand rested lightly on the Slayer's arm, just enough to get her attention and was looking up at her in concern.
"Are you alright?" Buffy realised she must have seen the totally bewildered expression on her face. Sighing, the Slayer nodded her head slightly, allowing Mashka to link her fur covered arm through hers. "Yeah." she answered, looking up at the building as the group walked under the entrance way. "It's just a bit overwhelming, thats all." she told her truthfully.
Marie nodded, as if she had been expecting this. Using the arm that wasn't linked through the slightly older Slayer's, she reached over and patted her hand comfortingly as the bodyguards steered the woman - and Alexei, who was holding onto his Aunt's hand tightly - through the doors and into the warmth of the store.
Bending down she that her and Marie were ear to ear, Buffy whispered hesitantly, "Where are we?"
Marie giggled. "This is the firm of L. Betran." She shrugged, explaining how things were done for the Slayer to help her understand. "Mama gets some of our clothes from here, the bill is send immediately to Madame Geringer for approval at the palace and the payments are made soon after that."
Raising her eyebrows, Buffy hid a smile, seeing the similarities to credit cards instantly. "Do you have a budget?" she asked the Duchess jokingly, and was shocked when she nodded, seemingly not seeing the sarcasm.
"Yes. Mines not as large as Tatiana's or Olga's, but we still dont use nearly as much as we can. My budgets 18,397 rubles." She laughed and told Buffy, "Last year I only used 6,307. We don't have to spend all of it, for most of the time we just swap clothes around between us."
Buffy grimaced. "Now thats the strange thing. I don't think ive ever shared a piece of clothing with my sister willingly my entire life."
Marie looked up at her in surprise. "You have a sister?"
The Slayer nodded. "Yeah. Her names Dawn, and she can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."
The Duchess laughed, knowing what she was talking about. "How old is she?"
Debating just how much to tell her, Buffy realised no harm could come from answering Marie's innocent question, for as she sadly realised, Glory couldn't do much harm to Dawn with the information she was about to give more than 80 years before Dawn was born.
"She's about the same age as Anastasia, actually." That fact had surprised her when she discovered the girl's ages and she knew one of the reasons she was warming to Ana so fast *was* the fact she reminded her so much of Dawn. Both were energetic and playful...and both could tease ruthlessly when they wanted to.
"Come girls!" They both heard Aunt Olga say in a cheerful voice as the woman beckoned them over to her. Marie and Buffy slowly made their way over to wear Tatiana, Alexei and both Olga's were waiting for them, only to find themselves greeted by five men dressed in dark navy suits when they got there. They were a mixture of the shop's porters, clerks and managers and they all greeted Marie by name.
Smiling sweetly at Marie, a youngish looking handsome man with dark hair and glasses bowed and kissed her hand. "Grand Duchess Marie." he greeted. Buffy realising as she watched, that the Romanov family were on very good terms with this man.
"Mr Betran, how good to see you again." Marie said politely. The man grinned kindly at her, but when his eyes flickered over her shoulder and spied Buffy, he frowned, his smile faulting on his face. He straightened slowly, never taking his curious eyes off the Slayer's face.
"I see we have an extra today, Olga." He told the Aunt, seemingly delighted. Moving aside so that Buffy and the man were facing, Marie introduced her new friend.
"Mr Betran, I'd like you to meet Miss Elizabeth Summers. She will be staying with us for a while."
The dark haired man reached up to straighten his glasses before bending down to kiss Buffy's out stretched hand. "A pleasure, Miss Summers." He straightened back up again and inquired,
"And how are you finding you stay in St Petersburg?"
Buffy smiled, charmed by the man. "Very enlightening to say the least." She grinned and nodded her head. "You have a very beautiful city."
Me Betran caught her accent immediately. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he began to clap his hands together in delight. "An American!" he cried, a wide grin breaking out on his face.
Taking the Slayer by the arm, he began to lead the small party through the shop, Buffy sending Marie a helpless look over her shoulder when Mr Betran began to steer her away. Marie only shrugged, although she seemed not able to get the grin off her face at her friend's current situation.
"May I ask where about in America you live?" he asked ever so politely, Buffy watching as he nodded now and then to someone in his shop.
Thinking quickly, the girl knew she couldn't say Sunnydale, for he would be bound to ask the obvious question of why a girl who lived in such a low town in society was staying with the Romanovs. So, finding the obvious, the Slayer used the next best answer.
"Los Angeles, Sir." she told him and he nodded again.
"I'm sorry to say i've never been there." Then he shocked Buffy by shrugging sheepishly. "Will you settle for San Francisco?" As he waited for her answer, he gently placed his hand on Buffy's arm, steering her in another direction.
Buffy laughed, humoured by his reply. "Even though the cities are quite different, yes, San Francisco will do perfectly."
Mr Betran chuckled, again pushing up his glasses. "You have a delightful sense of humour, my dear." he bluntly informed the Slayer, teasingly. Indeed, Betran was quite surprised at just how open he found himself around this girl, especially since he didn't even know her.
Their conversation was halted as Mr Betran led Buffy and the others through a pair of large oak doors at the back of the shop, both who were maned at either side by uniformed porters, and Buffy found herself in a very small, very exclusive salon-like room. It was empty of any life save for their own, the soothing scent of jasmine making the Slayer smile as soon as she caught smell of the fragrance.
The room was littered with sofas and other forms of seating, all comfortable ways for the guests to feel relaxed. The royal blue walls were dripping framed painting, many of which Buffy instantly recognised from Art class.
She allowed Mr Betran to take her to a sofa and help her down, Buffy grudgingly admitting that she *did* need the help, sitting your body down in a corset was no easy accomplishment. The young Olga sat down next to her and a seat was brought for Alexei.
The Slayer's awed gaze flew to the entrance way as the doors were slowly pushed open and three little old ladies entered, all who bowed politely at the royalty in their presence. One of Buffy's eyebrows rose charmingly as she looked the three smartly dressed woman up and down, a smirk touching at the side of her mouth. But her attention was drawn to Mr Betran who was standing in the centre of the room, leaning slightly on the back of a Queen Anne chair. Setting his gaze on the Aunt, he asked,
"So, Olga. What can we do for you today?" He playfully rubbed his hands together.
Olga instantly rose and walked over to the silent Buffy, who was still looking around the room in amazement. Coming to a stop before the beautiful blonde slayer, she reached down and took Buffy's hand, pulling her into a standing position. Mr Betran followed her walk across the floor and his eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw who Olga was standing next to. Confusion married his face, but he quickly blanked the expression off his features.
Leading Buffy by the hand till they were standing before the man, Olga patted the Slayer's shoulders reassuringly.
"We are shopping almost entirely for Elizabeth, today, Mr Betran." Olga told the man bluntly. Betran was silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving the Slayer's face, as he reached up and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Finally, he sighed and lowered his hand. Taking a step forward, he waved for Olga to release the girl, which she immediately did, and stood there for a few moments, looking the Slayer up and down.
"Let me guess." he finally spoke, dryly. "She brought all American clothes, not suitable for Russia, yes?"
The children were all silent, Buffy included, all of them gazing up at their aunt, waiting to see what Olga would say. But she only laughed, nodding her head. "You know what western people are like, Betran. They think their clothes are suitable for all weather!"
Buffy snorted, opening her mouth to reply, but instantly clamped it shut when she felt Olga squeeze her arm warningly.
The charming Mr Betran again turned to study Buffy, looking at her figure, seemingly doing sums in his head of what colours would suit her, etc. Then suddenly, he grinned brightly and pushed himself away from the chair.
"Well then." he spoke briskly, clicking his fingers at the three silent old ladies who were standing at the back of the room, out of the way. They quickly jumped forward at his command. He turned to give the Romanov children a broad smile before saying eagerly,
"Lets get to work! Who would like to help me?"
*****
An hour later, Buffy felt just about ready to collapse. She had been dressed and undressed seemingly thousands of times, the old woman spending 15 minutes at least on each outfit. They had to be refitted, taken in and adjusted, all under Olga's watchful eye, the woman never leaving Buffy's side the whole time, for which the Slayer was entirely grateful.
Mr Betran hadn't always been present, only entering the room when Buffy was suitably dressed, much to the Slayer's amusement. As for some of the dresses she was made to wear,
Buffy couldn't hardly bear to look at herself in the mirror that she was led to. She didn't see herself, all she saw was just layers and layers of silk and satin of all the colours of the rainbow, gold thread and masses of pearls, rubies and other precious gems.
She had been completely made over. Her hair was trimmed and styled so that it was layed at the top of her head, a ribbon wrapped around it to keep it in place. Overall, when she stared at her reflection in the mirror once again, seeing how her eyes were bright and alert, her checks flushed yet pale, her lips rosy and full, Buffy had to admit she didn't recognise herself. She looked completely different.
Mr Betran, only the other hand, thought she looked beautiful. Truth be told, he had never seen such a exquisite creature in his entire life. He now stood at the front of the room, in front of the oak doors, his presence not known by the woman in the room, all who were fussing around the blonde American. He saw how she looked at herself in the glass, as if she was amazed at her own reflection, that it was not really her at all.
He frowned when she reached out slowly and touched the glass, memorised by what it portrayed. It was if she hadn't ever seen herself in a mirror before, he mused. Or, more likely, that she had never seen herself like *that* before. But this revaluation only added to the aura of mystery that surrounded the girl. What was she doing with the Romanovs? How had she come to know them? He had been dressing the children for coming up 10 years and he had never once heard about this beautiful American that was their sudden friend. Where had she come from?
But as he watched, smiling slightly as he saw Marie and Anastasia help the woman pin up Buffy's dress, Tatiana sitting off to the side with a totally bored Alexei, trying to entertain her little brother, Mr Betran decided that it didn't really matter.
She was enchanting.
Seemingly sensing someone was watching her, Buffy slowly turned her head to the side, catching his gaze. She turned back quickly, her face flinching, not liking the way he was looking at her. But telling herself he was only being nice, she gave him a smile through the mirror, her eyes dancing as she looked at him through the glass.
Yes, Mr Betran decided, rubbing his chin again thoughtfully.
Simply enchanting.
*****
Three hours later, Buffy lay tucked up in the Troika once again, Alexei's head pillowed in her lap, the little boy sound asleep. She looked down at his flushed face and reached out slowly, gently stroking his warm check with the back of her bent finger. He didn't even flinch. Becoming bolder, she tapped his nose and was rewarded with Alexei scrunching his face up slightly before relaxing again.
On the other side of the carriage there was a familiar giggle. Looking up sharply she saw Anastasia and Tatiana were the only ones awake, both of them watching her antics with wide eyed amusement. Grinning at them, she bent down and blew on Alexei's face lightly and his eyes slowly opened groggily.
"Sorry, Baby." she whispered, instantly feeling bad for waking the Tsarevich. She started to comb her fingers through his silky blonde hair. "Go back to sleep."
He groaned, shifting on her lap. "Are we going home, Buffy?" he whispered, his voice husky from sleep. Buffy didn't answer right away, turning her head to look out the window, watching as the trees zipped by as the lowering sun dropped from the sky. She could already see the stars.
And then, suddenly, the line of trees that flanked the deserted road seemed to path respectfully and Buffy could see on the territory of the Tsarskoe Selo ensemble...in the northern part of the Alexander Park, against a picturesque landscape...stood the Romanov's home, a wonderful little palace with more than two centuries of romantic history.
The Alexander palace stood, its pillars proud and strong, the creamy walls blanketed by the moonlight. Already Buffy was frighteningly familiar with the place. She had only been their 24 hours and already she knew her way around most of the many hallways, the children's floor well mapped in her mind.
Stroking Alexei's hair gently as the little boy again started to drift off to sleep, the blonde Slayer stared blankly at the palace as the carriage turned sharply, racing through the gates of Tsarskoe Selo towards home. She knew she would just have to except the fact that, yes, this place would be her home for the next few weeks, months, or however long it took Buffy to complete her quest.
"Yes, Alexei." She whispered, bending down to cover his face more warmly with the fur then leaning back against the seat, still content to stare out the window.
"We're going home."
And then she drifted off to sleep...and her dreams were of Willow, Xander and home...and of course, Angel.
*****
The sound of birds chirping woke the Slayer the next morning.
She smiled, not bothering to open her eyes just yet, blissfully content just to lay there, still in her dreams where Angel was laying, curled up beside her in a huge king size bed covered from head to toe in fluffy flower-covered quilts.
Buffy stretched out, her feet not quite touching the end of the iron bed she was laying in, toasty warm from the cold wilderness that she knew, even though the birds were singing, lay outside the palace window. Brushing a strand of long blonde hair off her face, the Slayer took a sleepy breath and nuzzled back into her pillow, smiling when she caught the faint sent of Jasmine on the pillowcase.
Everything here seemed to have its own definite smell, the girl mused dreamily.
She lay there for a few more moments, not tired at all for the first time she could remember. The fact that she didn't have to get up in the middle of the night anymore for Patrol still amazed the Slayer, who normally didn't sleep a whole night anyway.
Buffy chuckled, thinking that thought over with her morning brain as she listened with her sensitive hearing the innocent sound of Marie and Anastasia's breathing. The two girls were still fast asleep, the late night they had all had the night before had obviously taken its toll on the two young teenagers.
After dinner, they had all moved into the family room and proceeded to spend the next few hours amusing themselves in ways Buffy didn't even think possible when referring to her own family.
Anastasia had amazed them all, of course, with her sense of humour, setting them all off into fits of giggles with her mimes and impersonations, even if Buffy didn't have a clue who she was impersonating most of the time.
Alexandra had read them a letter from the Dowager Empress; their Grandmother, Maria, who was in Denmark visiting some relatives, telling the girls that she should be back in a few weeks. Nicholas younger sister, Xenia, had gone with her, much to Alexandra's relief. Buffy could tell instantly that the three woman didn't get along very well.
But then, after fully tiring themselves out, Nicholas and Alexandra had gently herded the children off to their bedrooms, the Tsar carrying a fast asleep Alexei in his arms, the weak little boy nuzzling his nose under his father's chin, much to everyone's amusement.
Buffy remembered watching Marie and Anastasia resting by their beds, their head's bent in prayer as they whispered secrets to their lord. They had looked at her when they finished, obviously expecting her to do the same, but Buffy had quickly turned her head away, not being able to endure their innocently confused expressions a second longer. But they had let it go, probably hoping she would explain all to them when she felt comfortable enough, and whispered to her their blessing for a good nights sleep.
And here she was, barely awake the next morning, noting to herself that she had survived one night in her new life.
She turned her head slowly, opening her jade eyes finally to gaze out the tall windows beside her bed. Then suddenly, Buffy realised that this was the first time she had seen the Alexander Palace in the day light.
That thought made the Slayer's eyes snap open the rest of the way as a broad smile swam onto her face. She silently jumped out of bed, trying not to wake Mashka and Anastasia and desperately looked around the bedroom for a pair of slippers. Spying a pair by Marie's bed she hurried over to them and slid them on her already cold feet, catching sight of herself in the full length wall mirror as she did so.
She sighed. She had forgotten she had been redressed in the long night dress; the full sleeved, ankle length dress hardly suitable to be seen out in. Weighting her options, the Slayer just shrugged, not caring who saw her, and quickly tip-toed out of the room.
Looking left and right down the deserted corridor, Buffy saw the coast was clear and padded down across the carpet. After many false twists and turns she found her self pushing open a pair of French doors that she had found in what looked like a waiting room.
She caught her breath in total amazement.
Buffy knew that in all that she was bound to see in her long life time, *nothing* would compare to the simply stunning beauty she witnessed as she hesitantly took a step onto the third story balcony, ignoring her feet as they tapped on the wooden boards. Taking a slow step forward, the Slayer reached out and grasped the ivory railing, turning her head left and right as she soaked in the wonder of the Tsarskoe Selo grounds.
Tsarskoe Selo was the name for the huge parks, gardens, forests, islands, not to mention the two palaces in its residence; the Alexander and the Catherine, that lay 15 miles out of St Petersburg. The whole area was almost like another little city in itself, being surrounded in a huge golden wall from one end to the other. The only way one could enter Tsarskoe Selo was a single one lane road which was lined every hour of the day with hundreds of guards, all suspicious of anyone who dared use the path, ready to die protecting their Tsar and his little children who were protected behind those mighty walls.
In such privacy, the Tsar and his family had successfully cut themselves of from the rest of the world. They were hardly ever seen about St Petersburg, save for the public appearances they were expected to attend. Alexandra, who was a shy and nervous woman in public, was disliked by the Russian nobility, society mistaking her shyness for pride. Between Alexandra and her mother in-law, Maria, the Russian court had successfully been divided in two. Maria's friends, which were plenty for the previous Empress was a happy, sociable woman, and Alexandra's.
Nicholas was always worried about his darling wife. Concerned by the fact that her close circle of friends seemed to a lot smaller than everyone expected. Alix's closest friends were Lily Dehn and Anna Vyrubova, the three woman becoming inseparable when they came to visit. Anna, a young woman of lower blood who everyone called Anya, lived in a small palace the Empress had actually given her in one of the Tsarskoe Selo parks, so that they two woman were always together.
But it was because of this, and other reasons, that Alix had kept her daughters out of St Petersburg society for as long as she possibly could. She didn't want their innocent minds warped by the ever-changing fashions that were doing the rounds. The bored younger generation having nothing better to do with their time so they were always dabbling in the forbidden, Alexandra being horrified even more every time she would hear of a promising young Princess getting pregnant out of marriage by some lower class man who had promised her the world.
But to Buffy, she couldn't blame Alix for tucking her children up in this little world of theirs. To the rest of Russia, Tsarskoe Selo must seem like a hidden magickal city where the beautiful children of the Tsar were kept imprisoned.
It was so like that in fact, that there wasn't a single person of lower blood in Russia who could actually tell the four daughters apart when they were seen out with their parents. They were so alike in features, and their public appearances so few, that Nicholas and Alexandra's daughters were often seen as mystical, hauntingly beautiful princesses of centuries past.
"My, God." Buffy breathed, still clutching the railing. Leaning forward, she tipped herself over slightly and peered down at the snow cased ground below her. She could just make out the giant Greek pillars that dominated the grand entrance way to the palace.
Surprising herself completely, the Slayer suddenly giggled out loud. Horrified, she quickly brought her hand up to cover her mouth, looking around the balcony desperately in case anyone had heard her. But, thank god, she was still alone, and therefore able to digest her amazement of her surroundings in peace.
But she still couldn't wipe off the broad smile that was painted on her lips as she abruptly let go of the ivory railing, took a giant step back and began spinning herself around and around for no reason what so ever.
It was just the complete and utter freedom that she felt, standing out here on one of the largest and most intimidating balconies she had ever set foot on, in the middle of nowhere. All around her was snow. Fluffy white, lace-like snow that touched everything in its icy path, sparing no budded flower mercy as it painted the world with angel's wings.
Buffy blonde hair flew out behind her as she picked up the end of her night gown. She was grinning from ear to ear as she kept right on spinning, laughing out loud when the white walls of the Alexander Palace started to mix in together.
She was puffed when she finally halted, her checks turning a faint pink....but she had never in her life felt so alive.
So free.
Here there were no burdens, no responsibilities pressing down on her so demandingly that sometimes she was at a loss to who she really was, what her real purpose was in life. There was no mother to be constantly reminding her of what to do, no Riley to try and make her into something she wasn't.
She could just be herself. Just be Buffy Anne Summers from Sunnydale, California. Slayer extraordinaire.
Nicholas, Alexandra and their family were inviting her into their home, into their hearts, without knowing the first thing about her. They had seen something, something buried deep inside her, that had instantly drawn them to her like a moth.
And it was then Buffy knew that in her stay here in this time, she would change herself for no man. She would live this gift to the fullest. For if these people who had so lovingly brought her into their hearts were about to suffer at the merciless hands of Hades and the Fates, then she would do it for them. She would live...for them.
The faint sound of footprints behind her made the Slayer halt suddenly. Readying herself to turned around and face one of the girls who had most probably woken up surprised to find her gone from her bed, Buffy took a slight breath, trying to get the flush off her cheeks. And with a wide smile on her face, the Slayer put her hands behind her back and slowly turned around.
And there, standing gracefully against the white wall with her hands clasped simply in front of her, was a pretty woman in a shimmering blue gown. She was watching Buffy, her head cocked to the side thoughtfully, with a charming smile on her face.
The Slayer fumbled, hastily smoothing down her nightdress, wondering in the back of her mind why the woman wasn't saying anything. She was just standing there, gazing at her.
Lowering her eyes respectfully, Buffy curtsied quickly and tried to apologise. "I'm terribly sorry." she told the silent woman. "I didn't know anyone else was out here."
Still the woman didn't speak and Buffy had to bit the inside of her lip in frustration, wanting nothing more to snap at the woman to quit staring. But when Buffy heard to unmistakable sound of her taking a step forward, the Slayer instantly lowered her head, not wanting the woman to spy the anger that was flashing in her eyes.
The feeling of someone placing their finger under her chin made her flinch, but when she felt her head being lifted gently, Buffy found herself staring up into laughing blue eyes.
"It's quiet alright, my dear." The woman told the blonde Slayer in her thickly accented voice, grinning kindly. Slowly taking her finger from under Buffy's chin, she instead captured it gently in her hand, turning the stunned Slayer's head from side to side, eyeing her face critically. When she seemed to have finished the tall woman gave a unlady-like snort and pattered Buffy's cheek affectionately.
"I see my brother was correct. You are rather beautiful." she told the blonde casually, then frowned. "Although there is a subtle power in your eyes that I find quite disturbing."
Buffy jerked her head out of her grasp, not really caring anymore if she was going to insult this obvious noble or not. Taking a wary step back, Buffy folded her arms across her chest uncomfortably.
But the woman only laughed, clapping her hands together delightfully. "And yes, there is strength there as well!"
"Who are you?" Buffy demanded, getting fed up with her games.
The woman stopped clapping and again inclined her head to the side with a knowing smile. Quickly walking towards Buffy, she put an arm around the small Slayer's shoulders and steered her back to the railing, where they both once again looked out into the Russian winter.
After a beat, she told Buffy in a quiet voice, "I am someone who knows your not all that you seem to be, that there are things that you are not telling my brother and his family." She turned her head and shot Buffy a sly glance and shrugged her shoulders. "I dont know what, but after all that my brother has said about you, I knew I had to see you for myself."
The Slayer's eyebrows rose in confusion as she turned around, leaning her back against the railing and resting her elbows on it slightly behind her.
"Your brother?" she asked, not understanding her words. Then as soon as the words were out of her mouth she clicked. Realisation drawned as she asked, "Your Nicholas' sister?"
The woman nodded her head, smiled and reached out to tap Buffy head. "Your smart too. Good." Then to answer her question she told her, "My name is Olga Alexandrovna, and yes, I am Nicholas youngest sister."
Buffy raised her eyebrows in silent surprise and looked...really looked...and the woman for the first time. She appeared to be in her late 20s or early 30s, had dark brown hair like her brother and a strong, confident aura about her. Buffy instantly knew Olga was no push over. But the thing that drew Buffy to her to most where her eyes. They were a startling shade of blue and looked powerful and strong as steal. But there was a obvious hint of sadness to them that made the Slayer realise that lovely Olga's life had not always been a happy one.
But Buffy's train of thought was broken as Olga suddenly pushed off from the railing and grasp Buffy's hand in her's. Seeing the Slayer was confused, the pretty woman only laughed and kindly wrapped an arm around the blonde's small shoulders.
As she steered Buffy through the door that led back into the palace, she informed the Slayer casually, "If you are going to be staying with this lot there are some things you have to remember. Firstly, on Saturday I *always* take the children into town." She shrugged. "I don't know why, but I always have, ever since they were little. And since it just happens to be Saturday..." she let the conversation trail off.
By now they were nearing the little pair's bedroom and the obvious sound of Anastasia's laughter brought smiles to both the woman's faces. Just before she knocked on the door, Olga bent down and whispered in Buffy's ear,
"And today's shopping trip centres entirely on you, my dear."
Buffy looked startled, glancing up at her. Olga caught her look and grinned. "They did say yesterday that you would be getting some new clothes, no?"
********
The city of St Petersburg, two hours later....
As the Troika raced down the Nevsky Prospect, Buffy lowered the hood of the thick ermine fur coat she was wearing so it almost covered her eyes, allowing it to cover her freezing ears as she watched the huge houses blast by as the four powerful black horses plunged ahead, knowing the terrain well. She had to admit she wasn't nearly as cold as she thought she would be, but the cover on the Troika slay was down so the seven passengers in the carriage were well covered. She knew without looking that trailing them was another carriage, decked with the three bodyguard-like people Nicholas and Alexandra had insisted they take with them on their shopping trip. As the Emperor had sadly informed them, the streets of Russia just weren't as safe as they used to be, especially now that the war was on.
From her seat in the carriage, Buffy leaned over and rested her elbows on the open window, gazing in amazement at all the old fashioned buildings that they passed. There were some real beauties, she decided, eyeing some of the grand domes that sat on top of the many churches that filled St Petersburg's streets. Smiling, she waved ever so slightly at a group of peasants who hurried off the road as the Troika sped past them, looking up at the magnificent carriage that, while they were freezing out in the wilderness, kept its charges snug and warm inside its belly.
The Slayer closed her eyes when she heard the unmistakable sound of the church bells start to ring, saying a silent prayer to what ever god existed that they get through this day without any troubles. But when a little hand snaked its way into her own and gave it a gentle squeeze, Buffy opened her hooded eyes slowly, finding herself staring down into Alexei's concerned little face.
He didn't say anything, not wanting to draw the attention of his sisters or Aunt, and Buffy realised that somehow, this little boy understood what she must being going through.
From what she had heard from Marie and her sisters, and from what she had actually seen with her own eyes, Alexei wasn't a healthy child and so he didn't get to get away from the Alexander Palace often. What was exactly wrong with him, well, Buffy didn't actually know, but she knew it must be something serious for all the extra attention he received from members of his family. He was always surrounded by people, not to mention his nervous mother, who seemed to think that the slightest little knock could cause him harm. But for all that, Buffy had completely fallen for the boy, she found him absolutely adorable, just as everyone else did.
So now, when he looked up at her with his huge blue eyes from where he was sitting next to her, she reached over and kissed the top of his head and ruffled his hair, silently telling him that she was fine. The 11 year old Tsarevich gave a sigh and leaned his head against her ermine fur covered shoulder, their blonde hair mixing, their hands resting in Buffy lap...both of them still clasped tightly.
Together, the Slayer and the heir stared out blankly into the streets of Russia's most proudest and grandest city...the fact that both of them were trapped in positions by birth that they hadn't chosen, and didn't necessarily want, not realised by either of them.
*****
"Wow."
The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
But seriously, what else was she meant to say when the carriage door was finally opened after the Troika came to a stop, and she had raised her head to catch her first glimpse at the store they would be shopping in for the next few hours.
It was huge.
"Forget the Sunnydale mall, i'm in heaven." Buffy muttered, not able to tear her eyes from the imposing building that was towering in front of them. It looked for all the world like some of the old fashioned hotels back in the older cities in America. There were a lot of framed widows, one above each over, all of them with the obvious Greek style that their creator must have had in mind when he designed them. It was obviously a department store, even if it was only four floors high, the grand entrance way busy with fashionable people as they came and went.
As Tatiana took her arm, all of the Romanov children not sparing the wonderful building a second glance, Buffy couldn't help staring at some of the beautifully dressed woman that were milling around. She instantly felt a little uneasy, knowing she could never be as graceful or elegant as most of them.
Still, she had to admit she looked wonderful. Olga Alexandrovna had helped the girls choose Buffy clothes today and they had decided to pull out the big guns, so to speck, considering after today she would have clothes of her own to wear. So that was how she now found herself dressed in one of Tatiana's most beautiful day outfits. The skirt was made of the softest dark green silk Buffy had ever seen, the skirts reaching her ankles, but only flaring slightly. The same as yesterday, she found herself wearing a tight fitting jacket, the long sleaves pooling out as her wrists with light cream coloured hems. It had shiny black buttons in the front, which were done up to her breasts, where it suddenly opened, allowing the top of her chest to be seen along with her neck, only being covered in a light covering of white lace.
Gracefully, Buffy reached up with frozen fingers and slowly lowered the ermine fur lined hood that had been covering her head, letting her hair catch the sun's rays. It was piled loosely on top of her head in shining, soft curls, threaded through with ruby stones, with glittered brightly. In her ears were small greenstones while attached to them, allowing silver chains to fall from them, little rubies were filtered through.
A little shy, she stuck closely to Marie, who smiled when she saw what Buffy was doing, as a uniformed porter offered her his hand. After a beat, in which she had seriously been considering getting down by herself, the Slayer smiled warmly at the distinguished young man and allowed him to take her hand, gently leading her out of the carriage and onto the busy city street.
As she waited for the others, the Slayer again looked around her, eyes wide in awe at all the foreign sights. There was only a few cars that she could see, and even then she only recognised them as the ones from museums. High strung men and woman sat in them, the men wrapped in furs while their lady counterparts had hoods similar to the ones she was wearing now wrapped around their heads so keep their hair in place. All the rest of transport on the cobbled roads were Troikas.
"Buffy?" a voice whispered to her. It was Marie, and when the Slayer turned around, she saw that Olga Nicholaievna was just being helped down from the carriage, the last person to exit the Troika. Marie had her hand rested lightly on the Slayer's arm, just enough to get her attention and was looking up at her in concern.
"Are you alright?" Buffy realised she must have seen the totally bewildered expression on her face. Sighing, the Slayer nodded her head slightly, allowing Mashka to link her fur covered arm through hers. "Yeah." she answered, looking up at the building as the group walked under the entrance way. "It's just a bit overwhelming, thats all." she told her truthfully.
Marie nodded, as if she had been expecting this. Using the arm that wasn't linked through the slightly older Slayer's, she reached over and patted her hand comfortingly as the bodyguards steered the woman - and Alexei, who was holding onto his Aunt's hand tightly - through the doors and into the warmth of the store.
Bending down she that her and Marie were ear to ear, Buffy whispered hesitantly, "Where are we?"
Marie giggled. "This is the firm of L. Betran." She shrugged, explaining how things were done for the Slayer to help her understand. "Mama gets some of our clothes from here, the bill is send immediately to Madame Geringer for approval at the palace and the payments are made soon after that."
Raising her eyebrows, Buffy hid a smile, seeing the similarities to credit cards instantly. "Do you have a budget?" she asked the Duchess jokingly, and was shocked when she nodded, seemingly not seeing the sarcasm.
"Yes. Mines not as large as Tatiana's or Olga's, but we still dont use nearly as much as we can. My budgets 18,397 rubles." She laughed and told Buffy, "Last year I only used 6,307. We don't have to spend all of it, for most of the time we just swap clothes around between us."
Buffy grimaced. "Now thats the strange thing. I don't think ive ever shared a piece of clothing with my sister willingly my entire life."
Marie looked up at her in surprise. "You have a sister?"
The Slayer nodded. "Yeah. Her names Dawn, and she can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."
The Duchess laughed, knowing what she was talking about. "How old is she?"
Debating just how much to tell her, Buffy realised no harm could come from answering Marie's innocent question, for as she sadly realised, Glory couldn't do much harm to Dawn with the information she was about to give more than 80 years before Dawn was born.
"She's about the same age as Anastasia, actually." That fact had surprised her when she discovered the girl's ages and she knew one of the reasons she was warming to Ana so fast *was* the fact she reminded her so much of Dawn. Both were energetic and playful...and both could tease ruthlessly when they wanted to.
"Come girls!" They both heard Aunt Olga say in a cheerful voice as the woman beckoned them over to her. Marie and Buffy slowly made their way over to wear Tatiana, Alexei and both Olga's were waiting for them, only to find themselves greeted by five men dressed in dark navy suits when they got there. They were a mixture of the shop's porters, clerks and managers and they all greeted Marie by name.
Smiling sweetly at Marie, a youngish looking handsome man with dark hair and glasses bowed and kissed her hand. "Grand Duchess Marie." he greeted. Buffy realising as she watched, that the Romanov family were on very good terms with this man.
"Mr Betran, how good to see you again." Marie said politely. The man grinned kindly at her, but when his eyes flickered over her shoulder and spied Buffy, he frowned, his smile faulting on his face. He straightened slowly, never taking his curious eyes off the Slayer's face.
"I see we have an extra today, Olga." He told the Aunt, seemingly delighted. Moving aside so that Buffy and the man were facing, Marie introduced her new friend.
"Mr Betran, I'd like you to meet Miss Elizabeth Summers. She will be staying with us for a while."
The dark haired man reached up to straighten his glasses before bending down to kiss Buffy's out stretched hand. "A pleasure, Miss Summers." He straightened back up again and inquired,
"And how are you finding you stay in St Petersburg?"
Buffy smiled, charmed by the man. "Very enlightening to say the least." She grinned and nodded her head. "You have a very beautiful city."
Me Betran caught her accent immediately. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he began to clap his hands together in delight. "An American!" he cried, a wide grin breaking out on his face.
Taking the Slayer by the arm, he began to lead the small party through the shop, Buffy sending Marie a helpless look over her shoulder when Mr Betran began to steer her away. Marie only shrugged, although she seemed not able to get the grin off her face at her friend's current situation.
"May I ask where about in America you live?" he asked ever so politely, Buffy watching as he nodded now and then to someone in his shop.
Thinking quickly, the girl knew she couldn't say Sunnydale, for he would be bound to ask the obvious question of why a girl who lived in such a low town in society was staying with the Romanovs. So, finding the obvious, the Slayer used the next best answer.
"Los Angeles, Sir." she told him and he nodded again.
"I'm sorry to say i've never been there." Then he shocked Buffy by shrugging sheepishly. "Will you settle for San Francisco?" As he waited for her answer, he gently placed his hand on Buffy's arm, steering her in another direction.
Buffy laughed, humoured by his reply. "Even though the cities are quite different, yes, San Francisco will do perfectly."
Mr Betran chuckled, again pushing up his glasses. "You have a delightful sense of humour, my dear." he bluntly informed the Slayer, teasingly. Indeed, Betran was quite surprised at just how open he found himself around this girl, especially since he didn't even know her.
Their conversation was halted as Mr Betran led Buffy and the others through a pair of large oak doors at the back of the shop, both who were maned at either side by uniformed porters, and Buffy found herself in a very small, very exclusive salon-like room. It was empty of any life save for their own, the soothing scent of jasmine making the Slayer smile as soon as she caught smell of the fragrance.
The room was littered with sofas and other forms of seating, all comfortable ways for the guests to feel relaxed. The royal blue walls were dripping framed painting, many of which Buffy instantly recognised from Art class.
She allowed Mr Betran to take her to a sofa and help her down, Buffy grudgingly admitting that she *did* need the help, sitting your body down in a corset was no easy accomplishment. The young Olga sat down next to her and a seat was brought for Alexei.
The Slayer's awed gaze flew to the entrance way as the doors were slowly pushed open and three little old ladies entered, all who bowed politely at the royalty in their presence. One of Buffy's eyebrows rose charmingly as she looked the three smartly dressed woman up and down, a smirk touching at the side of her mouth. But her attention was drawn to Mr Betran who was standing in the centre of the room, leaning slightly on the back of a Queen Anne chair. Setting his gaze on the Aunt, he asked,
"So, Olga. What can we do for you today?" He playfully rubbed his hands together.
Olga instantly rose and walked over to the silent Buffy, who was still looking around the room in amazement. Coming to a stop before the beautiful blonde slayer, she reached down and took Buffy's hand, pulling her into a standing position. Mr Betran followed her walk across the floor and his eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw who Olga was standing next to. Confusion married his face, but he quickly blanked the expression off his features.
Leading Buffy by the hand till they were standing before the man, Olga patted the Slayer's shoulders reassuringly.
"We are shopping almost entirely for Elizabeth, today, Mr Betran." Olga told the man bluntly. Betran was silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving the Slayer's face, as he reached up and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Finally, he sighed and lowered his hand. Taking a step forward, he waved for Olga to release the girl, which she immediately did, and stood there for a few moments, looking the Slayer up and down.
"Let me guess." he finally spoke, dryly. "She brought all American clothes, not suitable for Russia, yes?"
The children were all silent, Buffy included, all of them gazing up at their aunt, waiting to see what Olga would say. But she only laughed, nodding her head. "You know what western people are like, Betran. They think their clothes are suitable for all weather!"
Buffy snorted, opening her mouth to reply, but instantly clamped it shut when she felt Olga squeeze her arm warningly.
The charming Mr Betran again turned to study Buffy, looking at her figure, seemingly doing sums in his head of what colours would suit her, etc. Then suddenly, he grinned brightly and pushed himself away from the chair.
"Well then." he spoke briskly, clicking his fingers at the three silent old ladies who were standing at the back of the room, out of the way. They quickly jumped forward at his command. He turned to give the Romanov children a broad smile before saying eagerly,
"Lets get to work! Who would like to help me?"
*****
An hour later, Buffy felt just about ready to collapse. She had been dressed and undressed seemingly thousands of times, the old woman spending 15 minutes at least on each outfit. They had to be refitted, taken in and adjusted, all under Olga's watchful eye, the woman never leaving Buffy's side the whole time, for which the Slayer was entirely grateful.
Mr Betran hadn't always been present, only entering the room when Buffy was suitably dressed, much to the Slayer's amusement. As for some of the dresses she was made to wear,
Buffy couldn't hardly bear to look at herself in the mirror that she was led to. She didn't see herself, all she saw was just layers and layers of silk and satin of all the colours of the rainbow, gold thread and masses of pearls, rubies and other precious gems.
She had been completely made over. Her hair was trimmed and styled so that it was layed at the top of her head, a ribbon wrapped around it to keep it in place. Overall, when she stared at her reflection in the mirror once again, seeing how her eyes were bright and alert, her checks flushed yet pale, her lips rosy and full, Buffy had to admit she didn't recognise herself. She looked completely different.
Mr Betran, only the other hand, thought she looked beautiful. Truth be told, he had never seen such a exquisite creature in his entire life. He now stood at the front of the room, in front of the oak doors, his presence not known by the woman in the room, all who were fussing around the blonde American. He saw how she looked at herself in the glass, as if she was amazed at her own reflection, that it was not really her at all.
He frowned when she reached out slowly and touched the glass, memorised by what it portrayed. It was if she hadn't ever seen herself in a mirror before, he mused. Or, more likely, that she had never seen herself like *that* before. But this revaluation only added to the aura of mystery that surrounded the girl. What was she doing with the Romanovs? How had she come to know them? He had been dressing the children for coming up 10 years and he had never once heard about this beautiful American that was their sudden friend. Where had she come from?
But as he watched, smiling slightly as he saw Marie and Anastasia help the woman pin up Buffy's dress, Tatiana sitting off to the side with a totally bored Alexei, trying to entertain her little brother, Mr Betran decided that it didn't really matter.
She was enchanting.
Seemingly sensing someone was watching her, Buffy slowly turned her head to the side, catching his gaze. She turned back quickly, her face flinching, not liking the way he was looking at her. But telling herself he was only being nice, she gave him a smile through the mirror, her eyes dancing as she looked at him through the glass.
Yes, Mr Betran decided, rubbing his chin again thoughtfully.
Simply enchanting.
*****
Three hours later, Buffy lay tucked up in the Troika once again, Alexei's head pillowed in her lap, the little boy sound asleep. She looked down at his flushed face and reached out slowly, gently stroking his warm check with the back of her bent finger. He didn't even flinch. Becoming bolder, she tapped his nose and was rewarded with Alexei scrunching his face up slightly before relaxing again.
On the other side of the carriage there was a familiar giggle. Looking up sharply she saw Anastasia and Tatiana were the only ones awake, both of them watching her antics with wide eyed amusement. Grinning at them, she bent down and blew on Alexei's face lightly and his eyes slowly opened groggily.
"Sorry, Baby." she whispered, instantly feeling bad for waking the Tsarevich. She started to comb her fingers through his silky blonde hair. "Go back to sleep."
He groaned, shifting on her lap. "Are we going home, Buffy?" he whispered, his voice husky from sleep. Buffy didn't answer right away, turning her head to look out the window, watching as the trees zipped by as the lowering sun dropped from the sky. She could already see the stars.
And then, suddenly, the line of trees that flanked the deserted road seemed to path respectfully and Buffy could see on the territory of the Tsarskoe Selo ensemble...in the northern part of the Alexander Park, against a picturesque landscape...stood the Romanov's home, a wonderful little palace with more than two centuries of romantic history.
The Alexander palace stood, its pillars proud and strong, the creamy walls blanketed by the moonlight. Already Buffy was frighteningly familiar with the place. She had only been their 24 hours and already she knew her way around most of the many hallways, the children's floor well mapped in her mind.
Stroking Alexei's hair gently as the little boy again started to drift off to sleep, the blonde Slayer stared blankly at the palace as the carriage turned sharply, racing through the gates of Tsarskoe Selo towards home. She knew she would just have to except the fact that, yes, this place would be her home for the next few weeks, months, or however long it took Buffy to complete her quest.
"Yes, Alexei." She whispered, bending down to cover his face more warmly with the fur then leaning back against the seat, still content to stare out the window.
"We're going home."
And then she drifted off to sleep...and her dreams were of Willow, Xander and home...and of course, Angel.
*****