OTMA, From Russia

by Damia

**Authors Notes Posted*******This is a 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' crossover, with the Romanovs, where Buffy gets transported back to 1915 where she mets the Imperial Family.

5. The Winter Ball B

PART FIVE (B): "The Winter Ball"

1 Wednesday, January 18, 1915

The Alexander Palace, Tsarskoe Selo.

St Petersburg, Russia.

Using the Slayer skills that she had been perfecting for the last five years or so, Buffy silently glided down the softly lit hallway, her eyes darting from one side to the other, looking in every available space. Underneath the small marble table with its pretty lilacs in the tall Chinese vase, behind the huge pot plant that's flowers brushed the tall roof, its arm branches almost as wide. She searched the hall with her eyes, taking in every detail as she looked.

Beneath the huge chandeliers that fell from the ceiling, a thick Oriental rug was sprayed on the gleaming parquet floor. Her feet were void of sound as she walked, her satin slippers sliding safely across the material. Looking up, the Slayer noticed the sapphire and silver brocade curtains that were pushed back from the tall windows, allowing what sun there were to light the room slightly as the smell of a hundred different flowers flooded her senses.

But of all the things she saw, the object she was searching for managed to stay out of her grasp and the Slayer frowned, frustrated beyond words. She had been walking around the family's private wing of the Palace for the last 20 minutes and she still hadn't managed to find her prize, although she had almost managed to get lost a few times on the way. She was actually looking for Alexei; the two of them had been wasting a boring morning while the girls were having their lessons by hiding from one another while the other looked. It was actually quite a complex game and Buffy was surprised to find she was enjoying herself. With the huge palace as their playground, it was almost impossible to find the other person.

"Where are you…." Buffy whispered to herself, and gave a sigh of defeat, deciding that it was hopeless. She was just starting to turn around when suddenly she heard a sound. It wasn't anything big, probably just the sound of moving furniture, but to the Slayer, it was victory.

She grinned to herself, hurrying further down the hall as she followed the break of silence. Buffy stopped when she found herself standing in front of a half open door. Curious, she poked her head in slowly, but finding it empty she straightened, pushed the door open wide and walked in.

She noticed instantly that this room was like none other in the palace that she had seen so far. It had none of the luxury of the grand entranceway or Alexandra's formal reception room. Instead, the walls were a comfortable light green, the curtains that hung beside the large clear windows a pale cream. The floor was wooden, covered only partly by two large dark green rugs in the centre.

And fully covering the back wall was a large, imposing blackboard.

Buffy startled, then a grin slowly appeared on her face as she realised what purpose this room held. Guessing correctly, she knew she had found one of the children's classrooms. Silent, the Slayer slowly walked around the room, letting her fingers brush across the two desks idly as she gazed intently down at the covers of the many books that littered on their surfaces. Many of the books she had never heard of, so she passed them quickly.

Her hand had just fallen on a very old, tattered version of Les Miserables when she suddenly heard the sound of footprints briskly walking in her direction. She had just jerked her head up in surprise when a furious voice echoed down the hallway,

"…Alexei Nicholaivich, you may be the future Tsar, but for the time being it is your father, and when he finds out how you have been behaving, I swear he will have second thoughts of placing someone with your manners on the throne of Russia!!"

And with that, the door that she had partly pushed closed was thrown open so forcefully that it bounced back on the wall with a furious crash and a tall figure marched in. He completely missed the stunned Slayer standing at the back of the room as he walked purposefully towards the desk in the right hand corner and smashed the dark leather briefcase he had been carrying under one arm down on its surface.

"Honestly, child! Is it so hard to actually turn up for lessons on time for once?" He cried, his back to Buffy, his heavy English rebounding around the room. Buffy watched, her hand still frozen on the cover of Les Miserables as he thrust his hand into the briefcase, still obviously furious, and yanked out a wad of crisp paper. And with that, the man finally turned around, his arm raised to his chest with the paper still stuck in his grasp.

He froze, his eyes flying open wide in surprise as he came face to face with Buffy, standing next the desk, her face reflecting a mixture of shock and awe as she stared right back at the man.

* * * * *

Pierre Gilliard had truly had enough.

In fact, he was so sick of his pupil not turning up for lessons that he was 'this close' to actually going to said pupil's father and having a firm word with the man about his son's time management skills…. Tsar or no Tsar.

But seriously, the boy was acting like he was five years old again. And Gilliard remembered instinctively how the Tsarevich had been like at five because he had known the boy since he was 18 months old! He remembered many a time when the little toddler would escape from the many arms set aside to protect him and toddle down the hall and break into his sisters' classroom, interrupting their lessons, and have to be carried off, arms waving.

But the boy generally liked his lessons, and Pierre and the Tsarevich got on tremendously. Then why, oh why, had the boy been late for every single lesson this week? The Swiss gentlemen could not understand it.

So here he was, thundering down the hallway towards the classroom that had been serving the children as such for the last 10 or so years, in a mood as black as hell. Under his breath he was muttering, "Keep you head, don't lose control…" When all he really wanted to do was corner the blonde child and drag the information out of him. But, as he kept reminding himself, the boy was the heir, and as much freedom and leniency he had with this family, he didn't think acting so disrespectful would be any help furthering his career.

Pierre Gilliard had been teaching the Imperial Children for almost 15 years. At first it had been the two older girls, then gradually as they got older, Marie and Anastasia. Then when Alexei turned eight years old, the Empress asked the Swiss gentlemen to teach her son French also. So now he taught them all, carving himself a nice little notch within the family. Along with an Englishman named Sidney Gibbes, who taught them his native language, they were the children's main teachers. They went everywhere with them, following the family as the winter suddenly arrived and they started their year long tour around Europe to paradises like the Crimean palace of Livadia and then onto Finland and beyond.

He had been with them for so long, and knew them all so well, that he truthfully expected Alexei Nicholaivich to be in the room waiting for him – with a sheepish grin no less – that he didn't even bother turning in the expected direction, only going ahead and bellowing to the limit he sensed appropriate. And that was why he got the surprise of his life when he finally did turn in Alexei's direction, only to find not the Tsarevich at all…but a very pretty teenager that he had never met before in his life.

Gilliard was, for the first time, completely speechless. And by the way she was standing there, eyes almost as wide as Marie's, staring at him with what he guessed was a combination of wariness and shock, he could tell she was too.

Caught completely off guard, the Imperial Children's tutor looked her over, trying to get some idea at who she was. The clothes he didn't recognise, but they were of the same style that he knew the Empress dressed her own daughters. The lightweight white dress ended just above her ankles and was tied around the waist with a thin cream-coloured ribbon, which from that flowed another layer of material. This was made of thin yellow mesh and fell over the dress until it reached her thighs, where it was hemmed to a stop. The front of the bodice was ribbed and covered with tiny pearl diamantes, which formed the shape of a large, opened flower on her chest. It had a low, square neckline, with the material meeting up at her shoulders where, on either side, it was pinned together with a large diamond like an ancient Greek peplos. This allowed the excess material to flow down her forearms in transparent, silky waves.

"Ahh, can I help you?" Pierre hoped that was an appropriate question to ask, because for the life of him he could not identify this charming creature. For a moment there, he had thought she was the children's cousin, Irina, for she looked about the same age as the Tsar's sister Xenia's only daughter, but then, shaking his head, he reminding himself of the stupidity of that thought. Why would Irina be in their classroom of all places?

Taking a step forward, hesitantly, afraid to scare her even more, Pierre had just taken a few steps when the girl suddenly broke out in a wide smile and started to chuckle lightly to herself. One eyebrow raised in question, the tutor regarded her oddly.

But when she pushed herself away from the desk and casually held out her hand, Pierre was at a complete loss. Thankfully, the girl put him out of his misery. "You must be Monsieur Gilliard, am I right?" she asked in English, her accent obviously American. Shaking his head confusion, the man only nodded his head. Taking the girl's outstretched hand in his, he raised it to his lips and delivered a chaste kiss on its top.

"I've heard all about you from the girls." Seeing he was still lost, Buffy smiled softly. "I'm Buffy Summers. I've been…."

But as soon as he had heard her name the Swiss gave a bark of laughter, visible relief showing on his face. Patting her arm kindly, he bustled her across the room towards his desk, where he proceeded to pull out the chair and gesture that she should take a seat. As she did so, he reached over and grabbed the other seat from the desk, making it shriek as he pulled it across the floor. Taking a seat himself, the tall, dark haired young man was grinning from ear to ear as he turned to face her.

"Now I know who you are, madam." He started, resting an elbow of the surface of the desk. Giving a dramatic sigh, he rolled his eyes. "You had me worried there for a minute, my dear. I hadn't a clue who you were." Buffy thought to herself that he still did seem a tad nervous, his hands were shaking.

"The Tsarevich mentioned that they had a little visitor staying with them from overseas." He grinned kindly, his moustache twitching in amusement. "I must inform you, my dear, that you have started a wave of curiosity around the palace. Everyone is just dying to meet you."

Buffy frowned. "Really? I hope not." Suddenly anxious, the Slayer leaned back in her chair and folded one leg over the other. "I had enough of being in the rumour mill at High School, thank you very much."

Pierre just smiled slightly. "Oh, you wont find them saying anything bad, I assure you. Everyone in the palace is just dying to meet the person who has brought such life to the Tsarevich in the last few days."

Buffy looked at him in surprise, not expecting him to come out with that. "What do you mean, Monsieur?"

Gilliard shrugged, something that Buffy thought looked totally uncharacteristic for the man, as he too, leaned back and got comfortable. Looking her straight in the eye, he told her bluntly, "You must know by now that Alexei isn't a healthy child, yes?" When Buffy nodded, he continued. "Well, he isn't normally allowed out much, so he is usually quite a subdued little boy." Then he chuckled. "Well, mostly. He can be as evil as his sisters when he wants to be."

Reaching over, he patted the Slayer's knee kindly. "But in the last few days he has been a picture of health. Not in a long time can I remember him being so happy. And if what I am hearing is correct, that my dear, is because of you."

Buffy didn't know what to say. Not for a second would she have pegged Alexei for anything but what he had been since she arrived. He had as active as his sisters. Since the first morning on the balcony of the palace, the Grand Duchesses and the Slayer had always gotten up at the crack of dawn, dressed quietly in their thick woollen dresses, wrapped themselves in warm fur robes and silently padded down the hallways and stairs of the Alexander Palace until they found themselves standing on the threshold of the front entranceway. There, they would look at each other with matching grins and dive down the steps, shrieking in joy as they covered themselves from head to toe in snow.

From there they would spend the morning playing in the snow or ice-skating. The girls had been delighted to find Buffy such an excellent skater and they had always enjoyed themselves immensely. And the main thing was, Alexei had always joined them.

But only now, thinking back with more clarity, did Buffy suddenly realise the differences between the boy and his sister's play. He had skated with them, yes, but never to the extent of the others. They would run around like fools, fall over and hurt their knees and feet and have to wear slippers for the rest of the day. He never did. Always had one of the sisters led him around by holding his gloved hand firmly in one of their own. He had not tobogganed down the banks as the girls had, along with the other children of the palace, the young sons and daughters of the Tsar's staff. He had always sat on the side, clapping in delight as he watched them glide past, giggling in pleasure, waving back at him.

And always…*always*…had there been the two imposing bulks of the tree-trunk- like men standing never to far away. As he had skated around with his sisters, Nagorny and Derevenko had stood on the banks of the frozen lake, arms folded across their chests, legs slightly apart, watching the boy zoom past with eagle eyes. And if anything got to rough, or the Tsarevich almost fell, one of the men would growl deeply in warning and the person with Alexei would flinch and tighten their grip on the boy, sending wary glances at the two men. Even Marie and her sisters.

If anything, this distressed the Slayer more than it should. She was frowning deeply, lost in thought, as Pierre Gilliard waved a hand in front of her face, trying to get her attention. "Madam?" he asked. "Buffy?"

The girl snapped back into reality with the calling of her name. Looking across into Pierre's dark featured face, Buffy gave her head a quick shake. "I'm sorry, Monsieur. Did you say something?" But the man just smiled in reassurance, seeing that what he had said had not only confused the girl, but troubled her deeply as well. Pierre would bet his life that she hadn't the slightest clue to the true nature of Alexei's illness.

"It's fine, my dear." He cocked his head to the side slightly. "I just thought you should know what a help you have been around here for the last few days."

But at that, Buffy frowned again, and shook her head, allowing a tendril of blonde hair to fall from its pins on top of her head. "Really, I didn't to a thing." She argued. "I just always thought he was like that." She shrugged. "Ok, I knew he wasn't well from what Mashka had told me, but I had no idea he was seriously sick."

Pierre laughed bitterly. "You would be the only person in Russia who didn't, child." The tutor sighed regretfully. "They all have their own version of what they think is wrong with the boy, but I'm afraid none are correct."

Buffy looked at him pointly. "And?" she asked, regretting it as soon as it was out of her mouth. She had no business asking him this question, she knew, but somehow she could stop herself. "What really is wrong with him?"

At that, Pierre visibly stiffened and Buffy grimaced, knowing she had gone to far.

When the man abruptly stood up clear of his chair, the Slayer risked a glance up at his face. But when she raised her eyes and stared up into his face, she was surprised to find him smiling, not in the least angry. Extending a hand down, Gilliard helped the Slayer to her feet. When they were both standing, Pierre kept hold of her hand, causing Buffy to look at him in confusion.

What she saw in his face stunned her completely. He looked outwardly calm. He had a slight smile on his face, but Buffy noticed that his eyes were misty with withheld emotion. He looked as if he was about to cry. Still gripping her hands in his, he brought her hands up to his mouth and gave them a kiss.

"Dearest, child." He whispered. "I know you are a visitor in this palace by the invitation of the Tsar himself, but please, I beg of you, stay as far away from that matter as you can." He shook his head slightly and told her with heartbreaking kindness. "It is no business to anyone but to the boy and his family." He looked down at the ground for a moment before raising his head again. "There is already to much sadness in this family, and you have already brought them all so much happiness…. I do not want you to be burdened with their troubles as well."

Suddenly he threw a despairing glance at the door but quickly turned back to the stunned Slayer and whispered desperately. "He deserves far more joy in his life. Just make him happy. It is all we ask of you."

And with that, with Buffy still staring into his eyes, trying to decipher what he was telling her, the sound of footprints again sounded in the hallway. Tearing her emerald eyes away from the tutors, Buffy glanced at the door just in time to see the little figure of Alexei come jogging through, blonde hair flying. At his heals, barking madly and springing into the air, was a small white and grey dog with long floppy ears that almost touched the ground. Buffy recognised her instantly as the Tsarevich's spaniel, Joy.

Alexei was puffing with the effort of what had obviously been a long run with he looked in and saw not on his expected tutor but his new friend as well.

Startled, he looked back and forth between the two with the Romanov's legendary blue eyes, trying to see what they were talking about. His golden face was flushed pink, making his eyes glitter as he suddenly laughed again, turned around, and ran back out of the room, leaving a trail of child's laughter and a dog's bark echoing around the walls.

And it was then, looking back at Pierre's face and seeing the look of undying love his held for that boy, that Buffy suddenly realised the tragedy of the double life that was living in the walls of this amazing palace. Outwardly, they were the proper loving family that the millions of Russian people expected of them…. but on the inside…. they were in agony. Living their lives day to day, which were centred on a pair of anguished parents, a stricken little boy, and the sisters who adored him.

But what Buffy did not know was that their lives were fixed in a pattern of survival. Not only for themselves, but for a dynasty that rested on the shoulders of an 11-year-old child who suffered more than most, and who had inside him a tiny defect that would change the history of Russia and the world.

From that fateful day in1904 when the heir of the Russian throne had been born into the world, the central concern of this family was their fight against the one royal disease that had the power to destroy them.

And that disease was Hemophilia.



*****

Three hours later…

Alix sighed. "No, Buffy. Left! Not right!"

The Slayer ground her teeth together and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Tatiana, who was standing opposite her, grinned as she saw how hard the young woman was trying not to snap at her mother. Gracefully raising her hand, Tatiana again gripped Buffy's and held it firmly level with their chests. Her other hand rested on the Slayer's lace covered waist.

They were standing in Alexandra's formal reception room, which at the moment looked anything but, for all the carpets and tables had been pushed to the side. Tatiana and Buffy stood in the middle, locked in the pose, while Marie and her mother stood off to the side. Actually, Marie was leaning up against the door, her arms folded across her chest, watching the scene before her with undeniable interest…not to mention amusement.

Alix on the other hand could not be less amused than her daughter. She had never in her life come across someone who danced as poorly as the Slayer. Oh, the grace for the movements was there, something that she had bluntly informed the girl (Buffy not telling her that what grace she did have came from the moves she used to kill demons) but she lacked the rhythm. It was already Wednesday and they only had one more full day of practising until Buffy would have to put her training to good use at the Winter Ball on Friday. Truthfully, Alix was frantic. She wondered if the girl would ever be ready.

"Come, girls." Alix instructed. "Do try it again." Looking at Marie, she raised her eyebrows pointly. The girl sighed, pushed herself away from the wall and began to clap her hands for a rhythm.

Tatiana and Buffy got themselves ready, Buffy counting "One, two, three" under her breath as she went, and looking Tatiana in the eye, started moving when the time came. Up and down, front and back…the two girls glided across the floor silently. The Slayer was looking down at her feet, making sure she didn't stand on Tatiana's until she felt someone put a finger under her chin and raise it. Looking up, she grinned at Tatiana and mouthed "sorry". But she only smiled, and then, with a wicked grin, she quickened the pace and widened their berth.

Suddenly, Buffy found that she had got it and laughed, letting Tatiana led as they danced around the outskirts Alexandra's room. She could fell their skirts swishing with their movements but she didn't care, only tightening their grip and forgot about her feet, letting herself be carried away with the dance. She barely heard Alix give a un-lady like yell of "Yes!" as she noticed Buffy dancing correctly.

When they finally stopped they were both panting and wore matching grins on their faces. Turning to Alix, Buffy raised an eyebrow in question. Alix and Marie were clapping their hands at her in delighted…and playing along; Buffy curtsied just as she had been taught. She folded her legs and gracefully fell almost to the floor, one arm sprayed across her chest, head bowed. This made Alix clap even harder, and when she straightened fluidly, the Empress gave Buffy a hug and a kiss on the check.

"Well done, child!" She gave her a mock stern look. "Didn't I tell you it was in there somewhere? I knew if you practiced hard enough you would get it in the end!" Then, putting her hands on her hips, the Tsarina looked around the now bare room. "What we need is a real ball." She muttered. "Nothing like the real thing."

With that Marie suddenly giggled and ran from the room. The three women looked at her retreating back with raised eyebrows. "Where is she going?" Tatiana asked, voicing what they were all thinking. But Alix only shrugged it away. "She'll be back, mark my words. That girl always needs to be in the thick of things. Now…"

Walking over to the table that one of the family's Phonographs was placed, Alix started to fiddle around with it. She was just turning around again when Marie suddenly ran back in the room, one hand dragging a blonde man Buffy didn't know. But when Tatiana suddenly put her hand over her mouth to sniffle a giggle of her own, Buffy followed her gaze, only to be surprised to see Anastasia walk into the room, both of her hands dragging bodies. Looking up, Buffy laughed at the look of utter terror on Pierre Gilliard's face and completely hopelessness on Nicholas'.

Walking into the centre of the room, Anastasia proudly informed her mother, "Here you go, maman, we have found you a ball!"

As the music started to play, the Romanov's and their friends all got into place, and playing along, they all bowed to their chosen partners. Marie was dancing with her father, Alix with the blonde man who introduced himself to the Slayer as none other than Sidney Gibbes, the children's English teacher, and Tatiana was dancing with Anastasia. That left Buffy and Pierre.

He smiled at her as they bow and curtsied to each other, and when he took her hand he gave her a friendly squeeze. "So I hear from Marie Nicholaievna that you have just recently mastered the art of dancing?" Buffy shrugged. "Yeah, so don't go to fast, will you?" she asked, grinning.

He bowed his head, agreeing. And with that, the Swiss gentlemen danced her around the room and out the door, followed close behind by the rest of the family. The sound of their laughing could be heard in the other end of the building as they danced through the hallways of the Alexander Palace.

********

Friday, January 20, 1915….

It was 7.30 in the evening and the palace was filled with an eerie silence as Olga, Tatiana, Marie, Anastasia and Buffy padded down the corridor of the children's floor. Most of the staff had been given the night off, but those who where needed to help the family prepare for the big night ahead where asked to stay behind. There had been so much to do, like getting the girls hair up, where it was wrapped in a mixture of jewels when it was fixed into place onto of their heads, Anastasia not included of course. Girls under the age of 16 where allowed to wear their hair down in public, a fact that Marie liked to tease her little sister, for she had turned 16 half a year ago.

Dresses needed to be pressed and have a final going over before being gently placed on their wearers. The four Grand Duchesses where wearing matching white lace gowns with embroiled flowers on their hems. They had layers of lace on the front of the bodice and on the arms, making the girls look innocent and pure, the look that Alexandra had been obviously going for. Buffy, on the other hand, had been allowed to wear colours other than white, as she was not a member of the family. Not wanting to overly stand out in the crowd, she had decided to go for a pale light blue gown of similar style to her friends, except that it was designed in the style that foreign ladies in Russia thought was shockingly far off the shoulder. And it was, the whole of her shoulders, her neck and the top of her chest were dangerously low and visible.

Around her waist was tied a thin white ribbon, which defined the slight curves of her waist overtop of the corset she wore. Around her neck she wore a single strand of pearls that dipped into the low, open neckline of her gown. Overtop of the necklace she wore a chocker made of dozens of clusters of emeralds and rubies. The Slayer had thought it far to heavy to wear dancing, but the look on Alexandra's face as she saw her in it made her change her mind and wear it. Threaded in her hair were tiny diamonds, so small that they could hardly be seen, apart from that glittering shimmer they gave off as she moved. They only other jewellery that she wore was the diamond ring given to her just days before by the Tsar's daughters and a pair of sapphire earrings of Mashka's. But as she had steered at herself in the mirror after getting the diamonds threaded into her hair, she had wondered who this girl was. For it was not here, not the Buffy that she remembered herself being only a week before.

Now, she looked dignified. Graceful. And incomparably beautiful. She could imagine the look on Angel's face if he saw her now. He would be stunned, probably not even recognising her if he passed her by.

She also looked positively wealthy. The Romanovs were one of the richest families on the planet, and they were surely going to prove it tonight, Buffy knew. There would be jewels and priceless dresses everywhere she looked.

But now, the girls were wrapped form head to toe in thick fur coats that concealed their bodies from view as they made their way down the main staircase and into the foyer of the palace. Buffy was nervous as hell and she knew the others could see it for they kept sending her reassuring little smiles whenever she looked their way. Looking up, the Slayer caught sight of The Emperor and Empress standing by the door.

Buffy gaped at them in awe. Before now, she had already known just who they were, and had always tried to act respectful in their presence, but the full idea of what they represented only hit her at this moment. Standing before her where not simply Nicholas and Alexandra, the people who had kindly sheared their home with her over the past week, or given her dancing lessons a few days earlier. They were the Imperial Majesties of the greatest empire on earth. They were the people who made history.

Standing next to her husband in a pale silver brocade gown sewn with diamonds, was Alix. In her hair was a large emerald tiara. As the girls came down the stairs, they both broke their hushed conversation and turned in their directions, huge smiles breaking out on their faces as the teenagers approached.

Nicholas grasped Buffy's hand in his and brought it up to his month, planting a soft kiss on its surface. Looking deeply into her eyes, the Tsar's own eyes were twinkling as he murmured, "You look wonderful, my child."

Secretly pleased, Buffy smiled back at him. "You don't look to bad yourself."

Olga was looking around the room with a frown on her wide, open face. "Where is Baby, maman?" she asked her mother and Alix gave a tired sigh. "You know what that child is like, my dear. Last time I checked on him he was just looking for his boots. He isn't on time for anything."

"Here I am, everyone!" A voice called and they all turned to see Alexei come jogging down the stairs, a hat clutched underneath his arms. He too, was dressed in a fur coat, and it positively swallowed his small frame.

"Alexei, don't run!" Nicholas called, shooting his wife an anxious glance. Luckily, the boy did as he was ordered and slowed down to a walk, sighing in regret as he did so. He smiled softly at the Slayer as he joined them, and with a proper tilt to his chin, held his arm out smugly. Laughing, Buffy took it and the Tsarevich led her out the door into the frozen wilderness of Russia.

Now that they were all accounted for, the rest of the family followed Buffy and Alexei down the many steps of the Alexander Palace quickly, wanting to get out of the cold weather. As they neared the bottom of the steps, it was only then that Buffy noticed two huge black carriages that were drawn up in a line at the base of the steps. They were closed carriages, for which Buffy was instantly grateful, and on the side on the doors was a large gold imprint of a two-headed eagle, the Imperial sign of the Romanovs.

As they neared, the fur wrapped porters on either side of the door briskly opened the doors for them, and a pair of steps fell from within. Without even discussing it, Alexandra, Alexei, Tatiana and Olga left them others and headed for the second carriage, the two girls giving Buffy a quick squeeze on the arm as they went, telling her that they would see her soon. When they left, Buffy turned back and watched curiously as the porter held out his hand respectfully for Nicholas and helped the Tsar up through the small doorway.

While she waited, and trying to calm her nerves, Buffy looked up into the frozen Russian sky, trying to place any of the stars from home. As she looked, a flitter of snow floated down and landed on her powered nose, causing the Slayer to sneeze. Looking outwards from the palace, Buffy could make out the smaller buildings that were building around the Alexander Park, which made up the Imperial village of Tsarskoe Selo. Squinting, she could just make out the huge boundaries of the Catharine Palace, which was about three times larger than the Alexander.

"Buffy?" A voice asked from in front of her, and the girl started, seeing Anastasia peering at her from within the carriage. The girl smiled mischievously at the Slayer. "Are you coming or not?" she asked, and Buffy realised she now stood alone in the cold. Blushing in embarrassment, Buffy gave her hand to the young man beside the door, who grinned back at her and helped her up the steps. When she was in she sat next to Nicholas and turned to watch the same young man push the door shut.

He was looking at her, she realised with a start. With an expressing of amusement mixed with curiosity planted on his dark featured, handsome face as he stood up on to the running board that ran beside the carriage for the Tsar's family's protection. Quickly looking away, she instead looked out the window on the other side of the carriage, and as she did, completely missing the stern look Nicholas sent the young man as he had followed her gaze.

But any thoughts of the rude young man where pushed firmly from her mind as the drivers of the carriages suddenly gave furious yells and the cracks of whips could be heard as the 12 powerful horses suddenly lunged forward and floated noicelessly down the long driveway of the palace.

As the carriage bounced along the road, Buffy tore her eyes away form the landscape as it flew by and grinned at Marie and Anastasia who were sitting opposite her. They did likewise and Buffy could tell that they too were looking forward to the long night ahead. Turning back to her window, the slayer put her gloved hand gracefully on the window sill and closed her eyes, listening to the bells of the carriages ring out through the black, frozen night as the horses steered them once more into the city that was built on water and was Russia's "Window on Europe."

It was the city which Peter the Great had built on the marshes of the Neva River and which two hundred thousand labourers had died building. It was the strange, artificial capital at the head of the Baltic Sea. Calling the Venice of the North, the Babylon of the Snows, Peter's city was the heart of European Luxury.

And it was, of course, St Petersburg of Russia.



******

Not much time later, Buffy was almost shaking with nerves. She couldn't believe she was attending a ball. An actual old-fashioned ball like in the movies and books. Wiping her now sweaty gloved hands on the seat below her, she looked over and saw Nicholas staring at her oddly with his head cocked to the side. She gave him a reassuring shaky smile, and went back to gazing out the window. At least that gave her something to do.

With wide eyes, she watched as the trotted into St Petersburg and looked up at the huge buildings that flanked her as they sped past. Most were faultless examples of Russian Baroque and had mass amounts of decorative columns, metal gratings, fences, gates and railings or stately porches with delighted the eye with their exquisite designs.

But to what she was about to see, these buildings might as well have been garden sheds.

As the horse hooves cluttered on the cobbled street, they turned off the Nevsky Prospect and into the Palace Square. As the buildings seemingly parted respectively, Buffy got her first glimpse at the palace which was one of the most famous palaces in Europe, not to mention the most largest and most famous building in St Petersburg, if not Russia itself.

As she looked, eyes open in stunned awe, the magnificent Winter Palace loomed into view. The first thing that popped into Buffy's head was that it was enormous.

And she was right. The Winter Palace extended over 20 acres and the total perimeter measures over a mile (two km) long. It was built on the banks of the Neva River and was the undisputed heart of St Petersburg. Inside the palace there were 1,057 rooms and halls with a total floor space of 46,516 sq. metres, 117 staircases, 1,786 doors and 1,945 windows.

Driving up the amazing driveway, in which an everlasting layer of lawns and fountains flashed you by, Buffy studied the building as they got closer. She instantly noticed that three gateway arches marked the main façade that was facing them. The bright green of the outer walls was effectively setting off the whiteness of the many columns and diversified windows, which Buffy could just make out, were surrounded by sculptures of cupid and lion masks.

"Look at the roof, my dear." A voice sounded in her ear and Buffy jumped in fright. Turning her head, she saw Nicholas was beside her and he too, stared at the palace as the neared it. Obliging, Buffy looked up at the enormous roof and was surprised to see hundreds of little figures standing in the edge of it.

"What are they?" She asked the Tsar, while squinting to make out the figures. But before Nicholas could answer, light exploded in front of the Slayer eyes. Jerking back, she watched in amazement as all the lights inside the palace suddenly turned on, bathing the remarkable building in an unearthly, artificial glow as if they knew that their Tsar neared.

Answering her own question, Buffy realised that the figures looking down on them from the roof of the Winter Palace were in fact people. Hundreds of them. Turning to Nicholas, Buffy waited for an answer.

"They are the previous Emperor and Empresses of Russia, my child." He told the Slayer, watching the figures with her. There was a proud glint in his eyes as he murmured, "My family."

Studying the Tsar for a long moment, Buffy again looked at the imposing building in front of her, and noticed the endless procession of carriages that were that were lined outside the palace entranceway. But as their two black carriages circled around the proud base of the Aleksandrovskaia Kolonna, or Alexander Column in English, with its posing statue of the Angel with a cross which was built in the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars, and drew up behind them, all the others moved aside, and the driver stopped the horses right in front of the entranceway.

Buffy didn't have to wait long for the doors to be snapped open by a gloved man, and the steps were quickly pushed down. Buffy shivered despite that she was wearing a cloak made from heavy fur and pressed the hood firmly over her ears as she watched the new porter help the Tsar down from the carriage.

When it was her turn, she held out her hand and gave the man a warm smile as he guided her out into the cold, the Slayer moving carefully so she didn't get the long hem of her expensive gown caught up under her slippers. Her feet landed with a soft pat on the thick velvet carpets, which were lying on the white marble stairs. Turning around gracefully, she watched the man deposit the last of her small train on the carpets behind her before turning back, searching for Marie amongst the masses of people.

But when she heard her name called from behind her, the Slayer turned to see Olga walking up to meet her from the other carriage. The Tsar's eldest daughter was grinning from ear to ear and had a faint pink tinge to her checks. "There you are!" she scolded as she reached the Slayer's side. "Are you ready?" she asked, looking around her in fascination.

Buffy swallowed nervously. "As I'll ever be, I guess." she muttered. Reaching up, she lowered the thick hoot of her clock, winching as the wind whipped at her exposed ears. Following Olga's example, she unclasped the large button at her chest and waited as one of the many attendants reached up and gently took the clock off her shoulders. Now that she once again had full movement in her body, she craned her neck upwards.

Great columns of jasper, marble and malachite where supporting the high gilded ceiling of the intimidating palace above her. Even out here in a cold there were rows and rows of baskets of huge white orchids and roses along the walls. Looking around her curiously, the Slayer was bombarded by the heavy scents of the perfumes that the ladies wore. There were seemingly hundreds of people milling around outside, all laughing and socialising with their peers.

Buffy eyed the gorgeous dresses that fell from the woman's shoulders. These were some of the most important and wealthiest people in Russia and the jewels that adored them brought a gasp of awe to the Slayer's lips. There was a beautiful woman with raven black hair covered in emeralds. Other woman were drowning in sapphires and rubies. The Slayer spotted a young girl no older than herself wearing a thick girdle of diamonds around her waist.

Never again would the world know such splendour, such enchantment, and such undisputed wealth.

But as these said people looked over at the sudden activity of the Imperial carriages, they spotted their Tsar and his family and immediately started moving towards the doors leading inside respectfully. Many of them were in fact members of the Imperial Family, the Grand Dukes and Grand Duchesses that were the sisters, brothers, cousins, aunties and uncles of the Tsar, but they served only at the pleasure of the Russian Emperor himself. A snap of his finger and they stepped aside. No one was higher than the Emperor; he was second only to God.

When an arm snaked its way into hers, Buffy looked down into Marie's glowing face. Like her sister, the girl was flushed pink from the freezing weather, but the brilliant smile on her face drew you like a magnet. Feeling instantly reassured, the Slayer gave her arm a thankful squeeze, and she let the Grand Duchess guide her as they ascended the stairs of the Winter Palace. Nicholas and Alexandra were walking at the head of the group save for Alexei who was ahead of his parents, looking at the people around him in fascination. Marie and Buffy were next in line, then Anastasia, Olga and Tatiana, the younger girl walking between her two big sisters.

Along the many corridors they walked, Buffy looking around at the large palm trees that framed the huge mirrors that lined the walls allowing people to pear in as they walked by, either to examine or admire themselves. At intervals along the corridors, white uniformed Cossack soldiers with silver breastplates and eagle-crested helmets stood rigidly at attention, their feet snapping together as Nicholas walked past them, the Tsar often tipping his head in acknowledgment at their respect. Falling from the ceilings like a flock of white doves, were the crystal and gold chandeliers that lighted the immense palace.

As they neared the great mahogany doors dripping gold that led into the Grand Ball Room, the sound of three thousand people's voices flooded Buffy's senses and she seriously thought she was going to be sick. Marie looked at her in alarm as her arms started shaking. "Are you alright?" she asked, slowing down a bit. This caused the other three girls to catch up to them, and they all looked at Buffy in worry.

Correctly guessing what the matter was, Tatiana took the Slayer's hands in hers and rubbed them together, while at the same time talking to her in a soothing tone. "Just stick close to us, alright?" she told her gently. "They wont bother you if you are with one of us." She shrugged gracefully and gave Buffy an apologetic smile, explaining in her calming, musical voice.

"Everyone is going to be very curious about you, as I'm sure you already realise, but if you ever don't wish to talk to anyone just simply stand up and walk away. Do you understand? As our guest, you are under my father's protection, and you answer to no man here except him…. just like us."

Nodding, the Slayer mentally curses herself. What was the matter with her? A week of not patrolling and training with Giles and she had been reduced to a simpering child? Hell no. It was then that she decided she wouldn't be taking any crap from the people inside those doors. She was stronger than all of them put together, and made seen much worse if her short lifetime.

Taking a deep breath of air, Buffy gave Tatiana a warm smile of thanks and straightened her chin firmly. Seeing the change come over here, the girls breathed identical sighs of relief and hurried to catch up wit their parents and little brother, who were waiting for them in front of the still closed doors. Just as they reached them, an old man quickly walked up to the little group, and Buffy noticed he held an ebony staff, embossed in gold with the double-headed eagle of the Tsar in his hands.

As he neared them, they all parted and he walked forward, grasped the doorknobs and with a great heave, pushed them open. A great hush swept the humongous room as the three thousand people inside all turned in their direction. The tapping of his boots was the only thing that could be heard as the little old man walked in further and tapped loudly three times on the floor with his ebony staff. And with a booming voice that was surprising for a man his age, he cried out,

"Their Imperial Majesties."

And with that, the sound of thousands of silk and satin dresses rustled as the ladies of the room sank into a deep curtsy. Taking his wife's arm in his own, Nicholas II stood forward purposes into the room, Alix forever at his side. Their five children plus one all walked in behind them.

When they were all in the room, the doors were once again pushed closed with a loud bang and the Imperial ball officially began.

The orchestra at the other end of the room suddenly exploded into life as they broke out into a quadrille. Normally, ladies would have straightened off the ground and instantly found a partner, for which there would have been many willing, but tonight they didn't. They simply straightened abruptly and stared, open mouthed, at the Imperial Party as they made their way further into the room.

Or more precisely, the beautiful blonde girl in the gorgeous blue gown on the arm of the Grand Duchess Marie Nicholaievna. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Buffy looked into Nicholas face and was delighted to find the smallest hint of a smug smile playing on his lips. The Slayer bet he just loved getting one back at the people of St Petersburg. It wasn't often that he got to surprise them, so she guessed he was milking it for all it was worth.

The Emperor and Empress had stopped to chat with a man who Buffy guessed was some sort of court official for he wore a black, gold laced uniform. The handsome man was talking quietly to the Tsar, but every now and then he was cast a curious glance at Buffy, and the Slayer knew he was probably searching his memory for a name to place on her.

Looking around, she was just in time to see Olga and Tatiana being sweep away by two handsome young men. Marie giggled at her side, and Buffy looked at her in question. The girl was still staring after her elder sisters as she whispered to Buffy, "They are our cousins, Fedor and Andrei." She winked at the Slayer. "You will meet them later, I suppose. They are my Aunt Xenia's sons, well two of them. She has six."

Buffy coughed. "Excuse me? Did you just say she had six sons?"

Marie nodded and grimaced. "They are the oldest, save for their sister Irina. The poor girl, she is the same age as you and Olga, but imagine having six younger brothers!"

Grinning, she nudged Mashka in the ribs lightly. "Huh. Imagine having for older sisters, that's gotta be worse." She was referring to, of course, Alexei. Marie screwed up her pretty face at the Slayer and whacked her on the arm, causing Buffy to laugh. The two girls stood there for a moment, just content to watch the dancing that was going on around them until Anastasia casually walked up beside them. The two friends looked across at the young girl as she approached, and for the first time Buffy wondered where she had been. She had not seen the girl since entering the room.

Anastasia had an odd expression on her face as she came up to them. It was a mixture of her usual playfulness and a secret that she was just dying to get out. Marie frowned, staring at her.

"Whatever is the matter with you?" she asked. Anastasia came to an abrupt stop and put her hands behind her bank, bouncing on the soles of her slippers.

"I've got the best news, Mashka." The 14 year-old whispered, her eyes huge with excitement. Raising her eyebrows in surprise, Marie asked, "What?"

Anastasia looked around her suddenly, as if she expected someone to jump out and grab her. "I promised him I wouldn't tell you." She whined, probably wishing she had made no such promise now.

Marie sighed. "Ana, you can do that, it's not fair. If you weren't going to tell us, then why say anything?"

But whatever reply the girl was going to make was cut off as a voice suddenly whispered dramatically from between Buffy and Marie, "Because she knew I would tickle her to death if she did!"

Marie gasped and spun around, staring at the man standing behind her in delight. The handsome dark featured man was, in turn, practically beaming. "Uncle Misha!" Marie cried, and she launched herself into her uncle's arms. Michael laughed happily and gave her a big hug in return. Setting his niece down, he held her outwards by the shoulders and pretended to examine her critically.

"Yes, my darling Mashka. You have indeed gotta far to beautiful for your own good." Nicholas' younger brother looked up, his kind eyes dancing. "Next you will be swept away from us like those sisters of yours! Bluh! Little social butterflies, the pair of them." He winked at the grinning Anastasia.

"Soon it will just be you and I, Nastasia! Whatever shall we do with ourselves?"

Buffy was staring at this man like he was mad. Never had she met anyone so childlike and playful since she was here, was not an adult anyway. But when he turned his gaze on her she found herself unable not to smile at him, he had an infectiously joyful face. Grinning, he bowed deeply in her direction; a gesture that brought many curious looks in their direction, for everyone near them had watched the exchange between Michael and Marie.

"And this must be the wonderful American everyone is talking about." Misha said, looking the Slayer up and down. Reaching for her hand, he brought it up to his lips and gave her a kiss, never breaking eye contact with her. Knowing he expected her to blush and look away, Buffy stubbornly held his gaze, her eyebrows raised charmingly. He looked surprised, and grinned secretly to himself.

"It really is a pleasure, my dear." He whispered. But when Marie shook his arm, trying to get his attention, he rolled his eyes playfully. "We will talk later."

Buffy nodded, watching Marie as she girl launched into a spray of questions. "How is Natalya? And Georgie? He must be so big now! How old is he? Five?"

Michael held up his hands. "Marie, slow down." He told her, laughing. "Natalya is fine, thank you. She is actually around her somewhere, if you want to have a look. And Georgie's almost fine, although at the moment he is at home, crying for all he is worth, because we told him he couldn't come and see Alexei. Actually, the only was we could get out of the house alive was by telling him we would come to Tsarskoe Selo in the next few days."

Mashka nodded, smiling happily. "That would be wonderful."

Michael chuckled and looking around. Spotting his brother and sister-in-law not to far away, Misha muttered. "Ahh, there they are." Turning to the girls, he bowed again, snapping his feet properly with his hand behind his back. "I shall return!" he told them, and with that, he was off through the crowds of dancing people.

Buffy followed his retreating back before turning to the still smiling Marie. "He seems like a handful." She told the Duchess and the girl laughed.

"Oh, he is. But he really is the nicest man." Looking around then to make sure no one could hear them, she leaned over and whispered to Buffy, "Misha and Papa had a huge fight a few years ago, because he married Natalya and had Georgie." She shrugged. "We only see him now because of the war, papa needed Uncle Misha back here to run a branch of the Army."

Buffy frowned. "Why would they fight about that?"

Marie sighed. "It's a long story, trust me. But basically, when Uncle Misha and Natalya met and fell in love, she was married to someone else. They got divorced, of course, but papa didn't want them to marry because it would bring shame to the family. But they went abroad and did it anyway." She shuddered at the memory. "Papa was furious. He refused to talk to either of them. So we didn't see Georgie a lot when he was a baby, but now that they are back in St Petersburg they come to Tsarskoe Selo all the time."

Buffy nodded, thinking it over. Marie looked across the room suddenly and tapped the Slayer on the arm. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked, and Buffy smiled at her in thanks. "Wait here, alright?" Mashka told her, and with that she walked off, leaving Buffy with Anastasia, who she had all but forgotten was there.

Looking down at the shorter girl, Buffy grinned at the look on her face. "Are you bored, hun?"

Anastasia nodded and folded her arms across her chest. "Why can't I dance like that?" she asked, pouting. Following her gaze, Buffy saw Olga and Tatiana being swept around the room in the arms of their cousins. Chuckling, Buffy put an arm around the younger girl's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Don't worry, kiddo. In a few years they will be lining up to ask you to dance."

As she said that she swallowed tightly. But the time Anastasia got anywhere near her two older sister's age, this world would have metaphorically sunk beneath the waves.

"I'm sure they will be, your Majesty." A sickly sweet voice suddenly said from behind them. Muttering about people whom sneaking up behind you, Buffy put a wide smile on her face just as Anastasia did and turned around. Standing there in a brilliant uniform of a blue colour so dark it was almost black was one of the most strikingly beautiful men Buffy had ever seen. He had classical Byzantine features so strong he was stunning to look at.

Buffy would have continued staring if she hadn't noticed Anastasia go instantly stiff beside her. Looking down at the girl slightly, she was started to see her little fists squeezed into balls at her sides and her mouth pressed into a thin straight line.

Confused, she looked up at the beautiful man once again, and saw that he was choosing to ignore Anastasia. Instead, his whole attention was locked on her. Truthfully, Buffy was starting to get very uncomfortable herself. From so many years of slaying she was used to following her instincts and right now her instincts where telling her that this man was seriously bad news. He reminded her too much of someone, but she just couldn't put her finger on who it was.

"So you are the little blonde who has the whole ball room wrapped around her little finger." He said, his voice wisping around Buffy's ears like a snake. He then bowed just as Michael had done minutes before, but Buffy noticed instantly the differences between the two men. This young man obviously hated bowing to anyone. She could tell he was proud, conceited and haughty.

"Please allow me to introduce myself." He whispered, and Buffy started to breath heavily. All she wanted to do was grab Anastasia and flee. But instead she found herself unable to leave. Her feet were rooted to the floor. "My name is Felix Yussupov, and it is a pleasure to meet such a charming creature." He too, reached for her hand and gave it a long, drawn out kiss. Buffy knew people were staring at them, whispering, and she wished Marie were here. She would know how to get rid of the man without insulting him, for Buffy sure didn't. She positively felt like thumping him in the face.

"Charmed." Buffy ground out, her teeth clenched. "And how are you enjoying your evening?" she asked, taking a deep breath, finally getting control of herself from the initial shock of seeing him. Putting one of her hands on the small of Anastasia's back, telling her everything was all right; she smiled demurely at him through dark lashes. Asshole, she thought. Two can play at that game.

Felix shrugged his shoulders, still holding onto her hand. "It has been a pleasant evening I suppose. Although, this I must say, has been its' highlight." Again, he gave her a dark, smouldering smile. With a start, she realised just who he reminded her of.

Angelus.

Now she was getting mad. He had no right to treat her like this. No right to try and intimidate her in front of three thousand people. Ripping her hand out of his freezing grasp, she grabbed hold of a silent Anastasia and gave Felix a last, biting smile. "It's been fun, really." And with that, not caring if she insulted the guy or not, she briskly walked off, yanking Ana behind her.

She was so mad that she didn't even notice Marie walking towards them until the banged into each other, almost spilling the contents of the crystal wine glass Marie held in her hand. She took one look at the fury on Buffy's face and she instantly gave the glass to an attendant who just happened to walk by, and quickly led her friend and younger sister through the masses of people. Buffy didn't have a clue where they were going, she didn't really care, but when she found herself climbing a vast staircase, and the sound of people's voices disappearing, she gave a thankful sigh. She hadn't realised until now just now much she wanted to get out of that room.

Silently, Marie led them though what seemed an endless corridor until she came to a stop outside a large wooden door. Pushing it open, she quickly looked back the way they had came, making sure no one knew where they were going, before hustling the two other girls through the door.

Looking around the silent room, Buffy found herself it was looked like someone's study. Taking hold of Ana's other hand, Marie led them across the vast floor space and pushed open the huge twin French doors on the other side. It was only then that Buffy realised they must be in one of the top floors rooms, for when she walked forward and looked over the side of the balcony they were on, she could see for miles. The whole of St Petersburg was lit up like a Christmas tree before her.

"Are you alright?" she heard Marie ask her sister, and she quickly turned back to her young friends. Anastasia looked shaky. "Yes, Mashka, I'm fine." The girl looked up into Buffy's face and the Slayer was startled to see tears running down her check. From what she had heard from her family, Anastasia DID NOT cry.

Marie saw them as well and bit her lip in worry. "You are not fine." She said, running a hand through Anastasia long golden- brown hair. But Ana shook her head firmly. "Yes, I am." Then she whispered, "Its just…I don't like that man."

"If your talking about Felix, I have to agree." Marie said shortly, before turning to Buffy, her huge blue eyes dancing furiously. "He's a fraud. Maman adores him, and takes him under her wing. But away from her he insults her in public and criticises her to his friends. But she wont listen, and insists he is going to turn over a new leaf."

"The only reason papa has any thing to do with him is that he is from one of Russia's most respected and wealthiest families." She frowned. "Us children can't stand him, even though he is married to our cousin Irina."

Buffy looked at her in surprise. "The girl with six brothers?" she asked, thinking back. Yes, that was right, she told herself. The Tsar's sister Xenia's eldest child and only girl.

Mashka gave a slight smile. "Yes, that's right."

"Man, talk about keeping it in the family." The Slayer muttered. "Why would she want to marry someone like that? She must have known that her life wouldn't have been a very happy one." she asked louder.

But Marie shrugged. "Who knows? The future is uncertain, anything can happen."

"Tell me about it." Buffy muttered and the girls lulled into a comfortable silence. Then suddenly, Marie walked over to the balcony railing and rested her arms on it, looking out onto the city as they moon shone down on them in the black night sky. "Actually, that's not true." She whispered. Both Ana and Buffy looked at her in confusion.

"What do you mean?" The Slayer asked quietly.

Not looking anywhere but out into St Petersburg, Mashka took a deep breath. "I knew you were coming to us." She explained calmly and Buffy frowned, staring at her.

Anastasia, on the other hand, gasped and covered her hand with her mouth. "Mashka!" she cried, horrified at what she had just said.

"Excuse me?" Buffy asked, not understanding if she heard her right or not. But Marie only smiled. "I was dreaming about you for a week before you arrived here in Russia." Finally, she turned her head and stared deeply into the Slayer's emerald eyes. "And even though you did not explain it clearly, I know you did not choose to come here. You had no choice in the matter."

Buffy was starting to shake as she stared at the girl seemingly for the first time. "How could you possibly know that?" she whispered. But Marie only smiled sadly.

"I don't know. I just do." She looked down. "I think you are here by the will of a power greater than you and I." Again, she looked at the Slayer. "You are not like us, yet you are." She smiled gently. "Am I getting warm?"

It was now Buffy's turn to look down. "Mashka, please. Don't ask me that." She whispered. When she felt a finger push her chin up she found herself staring into Marie's doe blue eyes, Anastasia standing behind her.

"You have the right to your secrets, my friend. And as much as I would love to know them, to know what it is like where you come from, we will not ask." Buffy looked at her, and bit her lip.

"Do you parents know this? Or the girls?" But both Marie and Ana shook their heads. "No. It will bring up to many questions. I just know we are meant to help you with something, although I don't know what."

"No matter what, you will always have our friendship…. and always my trust." Squeezing Buffy's hand, Marie kissed her on her check. "Do you understand?"

Buffy nodded, lost for words.

"Good, then." Marie said briskly. "For we had better get back, they will be looking for us and we if do not appear, a whole herd of Cossacks will be coming after us."

Anastasia wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sniffled. With the other one, she took hold of Buffy's and together, the three friends walked out of the room, and back down into the lion's den.

****

The room was as it was when they left. Laughing men and woman were dancing the night away in the best way they knew how. As the three girls entered, Buffy caught sight of Michael talking to a tall woman with her back to the Slayer. But when the Tsar's brother raised a hand and waved a greeting, the woman turned around to see whom he was waving to and gave a gasp as she recognised the Slayer.

It was Olga Alexandrovna. And she looked beautiful in a cream gown and red rubes encrusted all over her bodice. As she hurried over to the Slayer, curious people followed her with their eyes across the floor and they were stunned when she wrapped the Slayer in a warm hug as they met. Kissing Buffy three times on her forehead and both checks, she then turned to her nieces and hugged them as her brother Michael and another man followed her over. Smiling at Michael, the Slayer turned to the other man and frowned, not recognising him.

But Olga then gave a laugh and wrapped her arm through the tall, distinguished looking gentlemen beside her. The first thing that Buffy noticed about him is that he seemed incredibly kind. Even his eyes seemed to be smiling.

"Buffy, dearest, I'd like you to meet my husband, Nicholai. Nicholai, this is Elizabeth…well, Buffy we call her." And for the third time that night, Buffy had her hand kissed by a complete stranger. She smiled up at him, liking the man instantly and had just opened her mouth to greet him herself when she caught sight of something over Nicholai's shoulder.

It was like someone had punched her in the stomach. She truthfully felt her heart stop as the smile slowly dropped off her face and was replaced with a look of complete and utter shock. She barely heard Olga ask her is she was all right, then the others, but she didn't answer them, only slowly walking around Michael and, as if her feet weighted 100 pounds, she slowly glided across the floor. People were staring at her, but they quickly got out of her way as she walked, as if in a daze to the last person she thought she would ever see.

But now she could see him so clearly that she knew it was not a dream. He looked as if he had just walked through the door. He was dressed in a smart black and gold uniform like many of the man here, and on his arm, in a stunning silver gown, was a beautiful small woman with caramel coloured hair. Unlike the rest of the ladies, it was loose and flowing down around her shoulders in soft waves. The only jewellery that she wore was a thin strand of diamonds across her forehead, where it later got lost in the masses of hair.

She knew instantly when he saw her. She was almost in front of them when his eyes suddenly fell on her, but then moved past her with no hint that he recognised her. Suddenly his whole body stiffened, and those chocolate eyes, which she adored so much, flew back towards her and they stared at each other. The woman on his arm was talking to him, but he either didn't hear her or ignored her, Buffy didn't really care which, but she stopped when she too, followed his gaze and saw her. The only reaction she had was that one single eyebrow raised charmingly.

But then he was walking towards her, a massive smile breaking out on his face. When he reached her, Buffy looked up into his shining face and she honestly thought she was going to scream. But instead, she gave a cry like a child, and flew into his arms.

And as she came into contact with his silky brown hair, she breathed a huge sigh and let herself go as his arms tightened around her jewel-covered waist. And it was then that she allowed herself to acknowledge that this was indeed real, and she whispered his name, the name that had been on her lips for the past five years.

"Angel…."