Author: Lucinda
Rating: pg/pg13
Third in Bohemian Scandals
Main characters: Irene Adler-Norton, William (Spike), and Drusilla
Disclaimer: William & Dru belong to Joss Whedon; Irene Adler is the creation of Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle.
Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, Quickfics anyone else please ask.
Note: This is set in the 1910s, with Irene Adler-Norton (of Sherlock Holmes) as a relative of the Vampire then known as William the Bloody (although not to his niece).
"You have to learn to control them." Dru's voice was soft as she poured tea into the delicate china cup. "If you can't sort out the visions, then you'll go mad, just like I did. Of course, my Daddy helped me, helped my descent into darkness and pain, but he's not here. We won't tell him about you."
Irene sighed, thinking that it seemed a bit odd to be sitting here, having tea with her uncle's vampire lover, discussing visions of the future. Drusilla had been telling her that her 'bad feeling' was a sign that she had the sight, and that she would soon get more of it. That she would see far more, and in greater detail. The idea was frightening, even as she knew that it was the truth.
She'd had so many visits lately from the neighbors, expressing quiet shock about her husband's passing. He'd been found along the riverbank, and the constables had declared it the work of wild dogs. It was odd to see how many were sincere, how many were simply going through the expected social forms, and how many were seeking some sort of fascinating gossip. So many had been disappointed to find that her 'cousin' and his 'wife' had arrived for a visit, and that they had thankfully been there to support her in her time of need. She'd claimed that the shock of it all, combined with grief had sent her to her sickbed.
Everyone outside the household had been convinced, although the fact that she'd been a successful actress for several years had helped make that a bit more convincing. Between her injuries and the fact that she kept feeling queasy, it had been easy to convince the society at Bath that she was not up to much socializing, in large part because it was true. How easy it was to hide the truth with a convincing lie...
"Irene?" Dru's voice pulled her attention back. "Would you like cream and sugar in your tea now?"
She touched her hand, running her finger over the top of her wedding ring. "Two sugars and cream, please. Dru? How... how can I gain control over these?"
"Visions are tricky things, 'Reenie." William's voice preceded him into the room. Settling on the other end of the sofa from Dru, he reluctantly accepted a cup of tea. "Sometimes, Dru can't do much more than try to figure them out, or maybe write them down for later."
Sipping at her tea, Irene sighed. "So, if these feelings do get stronger, I run the risk of madness. And even if I don't go mad, I still might not understand what they're trying to say? And during all of this, I need to try to keep the neighbors from finding out, because that would only cause more troubles."
"Sums it up nicely, luv. Of course, you got another reason to be careful not to lose yourself." William leaned back, leaving his teacup on the small table. With a little smile, he gestured towards her mid-section. "It sounds like your departed husband left you a little something."
"What? Left me..." Irene felt unbalanced again, as if she'd been spun in circles. "Are you suggesting that I'm.. that the feelings of illness are not from injury or grief?"
Drusilla giggled just a little. "We shall have to find you little dressing gowns and blankets. Possibly little toys and rattles... There is a tiny precious bundle growing inside you, with pretty dark eyes and tiny fingers."
Irene sighed, closing her eyes to fight the prickling of tears. A baby... that would have been wonderful news had she learned of it a month ago, but now that Godfrey was dead... Everything was more complicated. "This complicates things."
"I suppose the timing isn't the best, but..." William shrugged. "Nothing that can be done for that now. You won't have to go through this alone and... Wait a moment, what about this place?"
"There is currently an effort being made to find Godfrey's brother. Legally, the house would be his now, as would anything that was Godfrey's. I might be able to contest some of the will if I have a son, but..." She closed her eyes, feeling a wave of frustration about the unfairness of the situation.
"If it comes down to that, I'll buy a place and leave you watching it. Just so you have somewhere to call home." William took her hand, looking at her. "You're family, Reenie, and I'm not going to leave you floundering."
She smiled, feeling oddly reassured. "Thank you for that. It's good to know that I have someone who cares. And if it comes down to it, Bath might not be the best place to stay, especially if these visions get stronger."
"We should go away, across the ocean, so that when things fall apart, your life isn't broken. And it will let you slip away from the prying eyes of the nasty sneaky men." Dru nodded, looking solemn.
"I've heard that New York is a pretty decent city." William sipped at his tea again, frowning at it a little.
Irene nodded, considering things. "I don't think Bath is the place to stay for too long. For a while, but… I don't want Travers to know about my baby. I'm not sure why, but… no. Of course, that could be because I think it's because of him that my husband was killed, but right now, I don't much care why."
"Right then. We'll make certain everything's legally wrapped up, and we'll get you away from here. Might end up in London for a bit, before leaving, but I'm sure we can keep Travers and his bloody spies from following you." William had a particular gleam in his eye, one that reminded her that he was a dangerous man, one who existed on the blood and sometimes death of the living.
Almost, Irene opened her lips to say something, to ask him not to. But instead, different words emerged. "Be careful. If the idea is to escape his attention… I don't want more drawn because someone was careless. Which is one reason why I need to figure out what to do about these visions and feelings."
Drusilla giggled, clapping her hands lightly. "I know! We can get her a book, and she can write them all down. Put them on the pages, so she can look back at the little whispers and flickers… can you draw, Irene? Can you draw the pretty pictures that the stars and moon will show you?"
"I can draw, or at least well enough." Irene smiled. "What would they become? Simply Irene's journals? Books of prophecy? Diaries of Destiny?"
"Write them and find out." William's chuckle was obvious. "It doesn't matter what you call them if they help you stay sane. Of course, you're my family, and I'll help you and your little one, sane or not."
"Thank you for that." A little fragment of her wondered if she should be thankful for that, thankful that a pair of vampires would kill for her. But they were family, the only family that she still had, at least for another few months. Sometimes, life didn't go as you wanted, and you had to adapt.
End Bohemian Scandals 3: Not so Grieving Widow.
Rating: pg/pg13
Third in Bohemian Scandals
Main characters: Irene Adler-Norton, William (Spike), and Drusilla
Disclaimer: William & Dru belong to Joss Whedon; Irene Adler is the creation of Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle.
Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, Quickfics anyone else please ask.
Note: This is set in the 1910s, with Irene Adler-Norton (of Sherlock Holmes) as a relative of the Vampire then known as William the Bloody (although not to his niece).
"You have to learn to control them." Dru's voice was soft as she poured tea into the delicate china cup. "If you can't sort out the visions, then you'll go mad, just like I did. Of course, my Daddy helped me, helped my descent into darkness and pain, but he's not here. We won't tell him about you."
Irene sighed, thinking that it seemed a bit odd to be sitting here, having tea with her uncle's vampire lover, discussing visions of the future. Drusilla had been telling her that her 'bad feeling' was a sign that she had the sight, and that she would soon get more of it. That she would see far more, and in greater detail. The idea was frightening, even as she knew that it was the truth.
She'd had so many visits lately from the neighbors, expressing quiet shock about her husband's passing. He'd been found along the riverbank, and the constables had declared it the work of wild dogs. It was odd to see how many were sincere, how many were simply going through the expected social forms, and how many were seeking some sort of fascinating gossip. So many had been disappointed to find that her 'cousin' and his 'wife' had arrived for a visit, and that they had thankfully been there to support her in her time of need. She'd claimed that the shock of it all, combined with grief had sent her to her sickbed.
Everyone outside the household had been convinced, although the fact that she'd been a successful actress for several years had helped make that a bit more convincing. Between her injuries and the fact that she kept feeling queasy, it had been easy to convince the society at Bath that she was not up to much socializing, in large part because it was true. How easy it was to hide the truth with a convincing lie...
"Irene?" Dru's voice pulled her attention back. "Would you like cream and sugar in your tea now?"
She touched her hand, running her finger over the top of her wedding ring. "Two sugars and cream, please. Dru? How... how can I gain control over these?"
"Visions are tricky things, 'Reenie." William's voice preceded him into the room. Settling on the other end of the sofa from Dru, he reluctantly accepted a cup of tea. "Sometimes, Dru can't do much more than try to figure them out, or maybe write them down for later."
Sipping at her tea, Irene sighed. "So, if these feelings do get stronger, I run the risk of madness. And even if I don't go mad, I still might not understand what they're trying to say? And during all of this, I need to try to keep the neighbors from finding out, because that would only cause more troubles."
"Sums it up nicely, luv. Of course, you got another reason to be careful not to lose yourself." William leaned back, leaving his teacup on the small table. With a little smile, he gestured towards her mid-section. "It sounds like your departed husband left you a little something."
"What? Left me..." Irene felt unbalanced again, as if she'd been spun in circles. "Are you suggesting that I'm.. that the feelings of illness are not from injury or grief?"
Drusilla giggled just a little. "We shall have to find you little dressing gowns and blankets. Possibly little toys and rattles... There is a tiny precious bundle growing inside you, with pretty dark eyes and tiny fingers."
Irene sighed, closing her eyes to fight the prickling of tears. A baby... that would have been wonderful news had she learned of it a month ago, but now that Godfrey was dead... Everything was more complicated. "This complicates things."
"I suppose the timing isn't the best, but..." William shrugged. "Nothing that can be done for that now. You won't have to go through this alone and... Wait a moment, what about this place?"
"There is currently an effort being made to find Godfrey's brother. Legally, the house would be his now, as would anything that was Godfrey's. I might be able to contest some of the will if I have a son, but..." She closed her eyes, feeling a wave of frustration about the unfairness of the situation.
"If it comes down to that, I'll buy a place and leave you watching it. Just so you have somewhere to call home." William took her hand, looking at her. "You're family, Reenie, and I'm not going to leave you floundering."
She smiled, feeling oddly reassured. "Thank you for that. It's good to know that I have someone who cares. And if it comes down to it, Bath might not be the best place to stay, especially if these visions get stronger."
"We should go away, across the ocean, so that when things fall apart, your life isn't broken. And it will let you slip away from the prying eyes of the nasty sneaky men." Dru nodded, looking solemn.
"I've heard that New York is a pretty decent city." William sipped at his tea again, frowning at it a little.
Irene nodded, considering things. "I don't think Bath is the place to stay for too long. For a while, but… I don't want Travers to know about my baby. I'm not sure why, but… no. Of course, that could be because I think it's because of him that my husband was killed, but right now, I don't much care why."
"Right then. We'll make certain everything's legally wrapped up, and we'll get you away from here. Might end up in London for a bit, before leaving, but I'm sure we can keep Travers and his bloody spies from following you." William had a particular gleam in his eye, one that reminded her that he was a dangerous man, one who existed on the blood and sometimes death of the living.
Almost, Irene opened her lips to say something, to ask him not to. But instead, different words emerged. "Be careful. If the idea is to escape his attention… I don't want more drawn because someone was careless. Which is one reason why I need to figure out what to do about these visions and feelings."
Drusilla giggled, clapping her hands lightly. "I know! We can get her a book, and she can write them all down. Put them on the pages, so she can look back at the little whispers and flickers… can you draw, Irene? Can you draw the pretty pictures that the stars and moon will show you?"
"I can draw, or at least well enough." Irene smiled. "What would they become? Simply Irene's journals? Books of prophecy? Diaries of Destiny?"
"Write them and find out." William's chuckle was obvious. "It doesn't matter what you call them if they help you stay sane. Of course, you're my family, and I'll help you and your little one, sane or not."
"Thank you for that." A little fragment of her wondered if she should be thankful for that, thankful that a pair of vampires would kill for her. But they were family, the only family that she still had, at least for another few months. Sometimes, life didn't go as you wanted, and you had to adapt.
End Bohemian Scandals 3: Not so Grieving Widow.
