"Twilight for Anonymous…"

Disclaimer: Not mine but thine...O, Joss!

Archived at the Cicelyverse page of the Buffy Rebecca verse, or direct to story at www...

General audience level...

Summary: In a past life of Buffy and William, a certain story- and scene-stealing vampire gets his much-deserved desserts…

Part V…

In deference to his somewhat frail…Natural in the poetic sort of chap, one assumes…Though on occasion surprisingly able to belie that frailty…Friend DeVere's aversion to the harshness of the noonday sun…Understandable with that pale complexion, I often avoid it myself, freckles do not make for advancement at Court…Essex had sworn to heed his associate and trusted advisor's pleas to allow Master Shakespeare his peace on their factor Milner's return with positive, personal assurance as to the playwright's promise to complete his commission on time…

After all bigger things to focus on just now than setting an overly self-important hack to rights…A kingdom in play…A Nation in need of the resolute and manly leadership which only…Well, a man…Of the manly sort…Could provide.

That is, of course, if dear old "grandmamma" Eliza will be sensible and hand over affairs to younger, more capable hands…In her and the Nation's best interests, of course…

Cut me off from my monopoly on the duties for sweet wines, my chief source of income, will she? Damned old biddy…As if I didn't slog round dreary, boggy Ireland for her sake for months…And she making all that fuss about my handing out a few knighthoods to keep morale up… "Her prerogative" indeed.

Still…It's all in her interests…Poor old thing's clearly no longer capable of resisting her bad advisors. The damned Cecils…

Well, after tonight, when my people are braced by our little play…We shall be ready to seize power and exclude our enemies. And I shall finally be free to call my soul my own…

Not that I shall be harsh in my justice. Those who called me foolish boy, Queen's boy, lap dog, curly-topped fop…Won't be drawn and quartered…If of noble blood, of course…The ax will do just fine.

And we shall once more be the Protestant scourge of Europe, aiding friends, crushing enemies. Yes, t'will be a new golden age, to be lauded by the greatest poets of our time…Good ole DeVere, my staunch friend, that what's-his-name…Yes, Shakespeare…Ancestor must have been a foot soldier once…And the rest. A golden age, of a type not seen since Augustus Caesar…He smiled at a bust of said Caesar…

And there's no question who's the better looking of us world-historical leaders…

"Contemplating the new era, are we?" DeVere's voice, only the slightest trace of ironic mockery…

"Edward…" Essex turned to greet his friend. Looking rather well today…

Yes, was a good idea to move him in here for the main event…The change of air obviously beneficial…

Never did like that place of his…All those awful smells in corners…Like rotting meat…And the dreariness of the place with those wan-eyed servants and the spiritless local peasantry…

Like my peasants feisty and cheerful…Though of course, knowing their place.

Now that Bella…He eyed the maid trailing after DeVere…She certainly needs a change. Though not much improvement on her part as yet…If anything, a bit paler…

Still, looks good in a woman…

DeVere took a book from Bella… "That will be all, dear girl…You go and have a bit of a rest, eh?"

She curtsied to both men and wanly headed off…

"Tis a fair wench, that…" Essex noted, watching Bella disappear down the hall from behind. "And delightfully mild and docile…Where did you find her?"

"Oh, one rather dull summer in the country when I was incognito seeking the inspiration of the natural. Had some nonsensical idea there'd be some in the simple lives of the peasantry. She was a milkmaid whom…Whose services…I used…I decided to keep her on afterwards…"

One always finds a personal cow insures that daily 'milk' delivery…

"… Sometimes do regret it though…" DeVere glanced down the hall, frowning at where the girl had just got through a door. "Such mildness can be tiresome over the long haul…"

Deathly so, in fact… Really looking forward to trading up soon…And I hear tell the Slayer is a feisty sort…

Though of course family has its claims, Bella being a distant relative in the surviving branch…

"Truly?" Essex shook his head… "I'd gladly take a mild wench over my current harridan of a wife…"

Essex' houseguest frowned… Yes, that one…Pity she has to be dead Walsingham's daughter. The spymaster's agents still keeping close watch over her…A danger to my influence over the boy should we triumph by some unlikely chance.

Well, should it be so…Even her people's contacts with the Council and the Slayer won't protect her. Till then, patience…The virtue that has stood me so well for so many centuries…

"Girl needs a bit of sun, though…" Essex noted.

"A wasting illness, I fear…Troubles me deeply but nothing to be done." DeVere shrugged briefly."And how are we today, old friend? Ready to take your place in history?"

That of minor footnote in my glory…He smiled blandly at Essex.

"Certainly…" Essex drew himself to a resolute pose. "And with friends like you beside me, Edward…"

Oh, behind, boy…Definitely behind…Urging you on to your destiny with that final, fatal shove…

"…I cannot fail."

He hesitated a moment… "Still…"

Ah, here it comes…DeVere sighed inwardly. I knew that ole self-preservation bone…The one thing mature in this idiot clown…Would kick in, eventually.

"…I have dispatched another trusted agent to the Queen…Hopefully she will see reason."

"Reason, being?" DeVere eyed him.

Knew I shouldn't have let him out of my or one of my own's sight…Even to feed on dear Bella…

"My restoration to my proper place on the Council, the removal of the Cecils from office, our proposed legislation to be passed in Parliament, my monopoly on sweet wines' duties restored. And of course, proper recognition for my successes in Ireland…" Essex noted.

Well then, no problem…Thought fear might have driven the fool to some degree of sanity with an abject plea for clemency and only the Council and the wines as requests. She'll never listen to the rest of that nonsense. And as for "recognizing" that mess of a campaign…And handing over her right to grant titles…Lord, even I'm tempted to kill this idiot now for England's greater good.

"And we await reply?" he asked, pleasantly.

"I hope she will listen to sweet reason…She's been led astray but I still hold my Queen…"

"Certainly, certainly…" DeVere nodded. "But you are fixed in your resolve to take action if negotiation fails…?"

"Naturally…" Essex, slightest and resolutest of nods…

Not really many options left to me otherwise…

"Good…Well, keep a stout heart, my friend and all will be well. I promise…"

For me, naturally…he thought. For you, dear Bob…Well, let Fate decide…I give your chances a bare 5%.

Especially given that crew of noble twits backing you up…

"Well…?" Anne, seated on bench at her closet watcher, Willie's, table in his rather famed "back room" where many a deal involving negotiations between living and dead had been settled, regarded the lovely young fair-haired woman, of noble birth by her dress and carriage, standing a bit abjectly before her…

"Have I protection here…Or no…?" the girl eyed Willie, seated next to Anne, then returned to stare at the infamous Slayer…

Rather a coarse type this one…The last Slayer had some refinement, clearly of gentle, if French, birth…This one's likely some uppity milkmaid…

"You do, Frances…If you've anything useful to the lady here." Willie, coolly.

"I want your word…" Frances eyed the Slayer.

"Surely…" Anne nodded. "If you do no harm to humans and as friend Will here says, your knowledge be of use. You're a ward of the Queen, he says…Her Majesty might not like to hear one in whom she'd lavished trust and affection was a demon wearing human…"

"I don't take humans for feed and I didn't kill the girl…" Frances insisted anxiously. "She died of fever. It was a blessing to the poor woman, the mother, that I took her and played the part. I was a good daughter to her whilst she lived…"

"Fine…" Anne nodded. "And if you be good ward to the Queen, you'll assist me now in ridding her realm of whatever menace is here…"

Even if it only be a bad poet seekin' to take my Will's mantle…She did not say…

"He'll be angry…I want your promise." the girl eyed both.

"Granted…As I said. Now? As to 'he'?"

"DeVere and Essex are still plotting against the Queen…Southampton's in league with them…And there are others…" Frances sighed.

"And?" Anne, gently… "You know what I want to know, lass…"

"Edward's one of your prey…" she nodded. "Essex, no…But DeVere's one of the oldest in England to survive. Your word?"

"You've proof?"

"A Slayer needs proof?" Frances blinked.

"I've no desire to kill an innocent man, lass…Innocent by my lights, that is. Treason I leave to the Queen and hers to deal with. I've never heard of DeVere's being one of the Undead…"

"I'm no liar, Slayer…" Frances, indignant. "You ought to remember to whom you are…"

She gulped as Anne pulled out her stake…

"…A foul demon stealing the body of a dead girl…I know whom I'm speakin' to quite well, lassie."

"I kept her alive. She'd never have lived to womanhood…To grace the Court as I do."

"Noble of ye…" Anne, waving hand… "What proof?"

"He's employed me. For intelligence at Court, only, I swear. He found out about me, blackmailed me, threatened to expose me. But since, I've gotten close to him…And seen him with his current cow. His maid…"

"Cow?"

"He keeps one human alive for a fair number of years as his only feed. It's how he's avoided detection. This maid's his latest…"

"Clever enough, no trail of bodies…So?"

"Ma'am?"

Anne frowned…Don't play with me, demon…

"What's his game lass? Why would a vampire who's kept himself out of the annals of the Council want to take a risky venture like this on for?..."

"The Council will see you're safely taken to the Continent…Willie?" Anne looked to her partner who shrugged.

Sure…Nod…

Avoiding an eye roll…Like the Council'd ever listen to me. Stand-in Watcher or no…

"I don't know his plans…But…" Frances hesitated…

Anne, cool stare…

"…I don't think he believes young Lord Essex has a snowball's chance in Hell. He simply wants to put things in turmoil. And there's some young playwright he wants to tar with Essex's brush…"

"What the fuck ye say?!" Anne, bolt upright. Willie eyeing her in as much alarm as Frances…

"I…" Frances gasped.

"What young playwright?! And where be the bastard now?!" Anne had sprung up and bore down now on the frightened "young woman" who cringed. Looking to Willie for aid…

You always said you liked it Willie…Her desperate look…

"It's all right…"Anne waved a hand. Motioning an anxious Willie back… "Just tell me, lass…"

"I don't know the man. He's some fellow DeVere follows a lot…Very popular right now with the masses and even the right sort. We're not allowed to attend the theater except on special occasions. Her Majesty feels it would degrade our sensibilities and open us to public scorn by the foul audience…" Frances, slight air of superiority despite the overriding air of fear…

"Shakespeare?"

"I don't know…Is he the popular one now? I've heard of a Mr. Jonson who's big…"

"…why tar with Essex's brush?...You mean involve him in their plot somehow?"

Frances, nervously backing up a bit from Anne's harsh glare…And sharp, upheld stake…

"Just tell the lady, Fran…" Willie, soothingly. "It'll all be ok then…"

Wan smile to Willie…

"I think so…I think Edward wants the man dead. And his work lost, somehow…Though why…"

"This whole thing is to set up Will Shakespeare?" Willie crystallized, Anne staring at him.

And like a fool I…She gulped.

"It's the revision. But there was to be no name on the work? How was that to expose my Will to danger? Frances!..." her voice sharp as Frances' wandering eyes clearly sought the exit door…

"Slayer, I don't know. But Edward is with Essex at Essex House. You can kill him there, if the Queen's guard don't. They've orders to arrest or whatever Essex if he leaves his house arrest. And he plans to, soon…"

"The play was to be performed at Essex House tonight…Do they move tomorrow? Frances…?" Anne frowned at the girl now giving Willie a pleading glance…

After all we've meant to each other, William? And how many court ladies would give you the attention you deserve…?

"Frances, are they to take action tomorrow…?"

She shrugged… "I only know Edward said it would be soon…"

"All right…" Anne sighed. Then gave the girl a hard look…

"We'll have to be finding out ourselves then, won't we…Ma'am?"

"Slayer?" Frances, Willie…

"You have a new maid, girl. And you're attending a special performance of one of me husband's finest first works…"Richard II…"

Frances stared…Willie stared…

"The Queen won't hear tell of this will she? She'd be mightily pissed at me taking in a play without her permission…"

"Just worry how mightily pissed the Slayer will be should her husband be harmed in the slightest." Anne noted quietly.

"Slayer…There's no need to be frightening her. Frances will go along and do her best, won't ye, Fran…?"

Oh, yeah…Frances, nodding hastily to Anne's stare…

"But you'll need proper clothes. And you must learn a bit of proper manners and ediquette. You can't just clomp along as a true lady's…" Frances paused.

Whoops…Not the time for my Court sensibilities to intrude…

"You're right…You've five hours to teach it all to me." Anne, calmly. "Your life depends on it, so do well by me, ma'am…"

My…She is married. And happily, more or less…To the fellow in question. Must be awful, bein' Slayer and all…Threats at each and every turn to him…Breakable little human, though? Poor matin' choice for such a warrior…

Still, I suppose I know enough about findin' true love in the strangest places to understand…

Warm beam to Willie…