The Vampire as Metaphor...Book III of the (Semi) Complete Works of William Soames Walthrop...
PG 13
Summary: A lost work of one William Soames Walthrop (...aka Spike) as it was delivered at one of Cicely Addams' house parties, shortly before Will's demise. See the reference to it in "Drusilla"...
Disclaimer: All BTVS characters remain the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and all other owner/creators of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer series...
Contributions to the recovery of the lost works of England's third worst poet are always welcomed...
Part XII...
Germania Hotel, NYC...Room of Peter Potter...
8:30 pm...
Where the future Mrs. Potter had asked those assembled to temporarily vacate to allow her to discuss wedding plans with her affianced. He in turn having politely requested Mr. Smackles likewise vacate. In which to Smackles' annoyance, the future Mrs. had concurred...
Suggesting that he leave matters to her, the good doctor/poet being in no condition to be a threat to her even were she not the current Chosen One...
"Well?" she eyed her betrothed where he sat a bit uncomfortably on the sofa. Rubbing the jaw said Smackles had recently struck, supposedly in defense of his cousin's honor...
"Well, Elizabeth? It is all right to call you by your first name, isn't it? We being about to enter the more or less holy state of matrimony..."
"What the hell's up, Peter?"
"Darling? I thought this was what you wanted. Naturally I want what you..." earnest stare.
Funny Brit boy…she gave a grim stare. Narrowing eyes…
Hmmn? He matched her stare with an innocently bland smile…
Though inwardly he had to admit…She could be quite intimidating. Though damned fine, really…Whatever her game is…
Damn…She thought. This is the glare that's brought the Underworld's best to heel…
Gee…
This little adventure in transcontinental matrimony could be…Interesting…
But temporary. Get hold of yerself, Bethy. Smug look on his face, there…He's enjoyin' this, eh?
Not for long, buddy…
"Close it and tell me what's what...?" she insisted.
"You tell me, Miss Springs. I've laid mine out pretty clearly...You want to marry me and I've said fine. What's left to say but 'I do'?..."
"Fine. Just like that?"
"Just like that, Mrs. P. If that's what you want?..."
"C'mon..." she fumed. "Before I let you have one. Why are you suddenly going along?"
"Have I a choice, given the lynch mob you and 'dear cousin Willie' brought along? Complete with priest to do the honors. I congratulate you, Miss Springs. And I'm overwhelmed. You win...I'm yours..." thin smile.
"Look..." she tried. Giving him a demure look... "I liked you and I need a feller. Sos maybe I was a lil' forward and I got a lil' panicky when you weren't on board. I really like you Peter Patter..."
"Potter, Mrs. Potter...P-o-t-t-e-r."
"I can spell, jackass. And round here, yer the one with the funny accent. We're jest too politelike to mention."
Mmmn...He groaned. Starting to feel as he looked.
"Ouch..." she eyed his purpling jaw… "Willie's a pretty good right hand man. Ya better let me get some ice for that or it's gonna swell..." she rose and went to the door, opening. "Hey, you!"
Miss Ana, waiting with Detective Harris in the hallway, stared...
"Yeah, you, lady...Get some ice up here, pronto!" Elizabeth paused and frowned at the detective... "What are you doing here, anyway?"
"My girl..." he indicated the frowning, but reluctantly departing Ana.
"His girl..." Ana called back. Opening the door to the stairway... "Hey, Chet, get off your ass and get me some ice!" cry from closing door...
"...And the City Docks are interested still in you two...Being such an objecta curiosity at the docks for someone who likes tossing big cranes around like they was nuthin'. That crate that broke was off the Marie Louise, by the way. Which is pretty much unlikely, considerin'...But true..." Harris noted.
"Well, you oughta take yer girl out and go check the docks while yer at it. We got nothin' else to tell..."
"Maybe...Maybe not. Anyways, free country and my Ana don't get off till eleven..."
"Great...God bless...See ya..." she slammed the door. "Tell 'er ta knock when she brings the ice, I'm damned tired of people coming in as they please!" she cried through the closed door.
"I don't like that guy hangin' round..." she noted. "You ok?" she sat down by Potter...
"He's doing his job. By the by, that trunk was aimed at you, not me, wasn't it?"
"Sure seemed headed your way..." she shrugged, then glared a bit. "When I saved you from it..."
"Yes..." Peter coldly nodded. "I suppose whoever was after you and your friends figured I was your what...? Contact?"
"That is no family heirloom..." he frowned at the Book lying on the bedside table. "That book is hand-illustrated, a museum piece...And priceless, I'd say."
"Would you?" she eyed him coolly. "Guess I shoulda had it appraised..."
"Your late 'uncle' was bringing it to you and your friends here?"
"Nice...You're a regular Charlie Dickens, Dr. Patter."
"Potter, for the last time, Mrs. P. And it's no fantasy, however I may be getting the details wrong. You and your 'family' needed some help getting that book in safely and I fit the bill quite nicely..." he paused.
"They were looking for an Englishman, weren't they? Of course, your lamented 'uncle'...Was he the thief?"
"Careful, Doc..." she eyed him. "You oughta know you don't insult an American's family. You already got Willie's up...You might get me riled. And you wouldn't like me...Riled..."
"He stole it in Europe and you and Smackles were to, what? Fence it, is that the word?"
"Betta and betta, Pete..." she smilingly regarded him, arms folded. "And why didn't we? New York'd be the place, right?"
"The ones following you. The ones who tried to kill you...Or me...Or both of us. Are they the owner's agents?"
"They'd like to have it. But I'm the owner, Peter..."
"Possession being nine-tenths of the law, is that it?"
She smiled pleasantly, shrugging... "Not as stupid as you look…"
"Thank you..." he nodded. "So why the nonsense about matrimony? What do you want me for...Target practice for your 'friends'?"
"You can translate it..." she said, simply. Eyeing him... "We need it translated and don't have time to get someone."
"Thanks for the faith in my abilities. Why would you need to read it? Surely a book of bizarre stories and legends isn't of that much interest to you outside its saleability?"
"Dumb asses like me, you mean? As opposed to poetical gents like you?..."
"I don't mean it that way and you know I don't."
Knock at the door... "Here's your ice! I'm leaving it."
"Thanks!" Elizabeth called, moving to the door, opening it, and quickly hurrying to pick up a bowl which on her turning, shutting the door with a deft kick, and moving back to him, showed full of ice.
"That's more like it..." she nodded at the ice. "Now, something to wrap it...Mind if I use that cloth?"
"No...Now what is so important about translating that book?"
"I dunno..." she shrugged. "Hold still..." she dabbed the cloth wrapped about a large chunk of ice to his jaw...
"I don't..." she repeated to his frowning look. "And it might not be...Just, it could be important...For everybody..."
"Everybody being you, Willie, and those of your gang not yet deceased?"
"Everybody meaning everybody...I don't lie about this sorta thing, Petey."
"Just the small stuff...Like accusing me in front of people of having my way with you?"
She grinned suddenly. "I never said it weren't mutual..." Sigh at his frown.
"Suppose I tole you it was for everybody's good. You know, the greater good..."
"Really?" he nodded. "Well, that is a relief. Excepting that, given your recent record...I wouldn't put the slightest faith in anything you say...Ow..." he winced as she pressed the cloth again.
"Hold still, I keep tellin' ya..." she pulled the ice block in cloth back and glanced at his face.
"Sos, if ya don' trust me, why are you willin' to marry me? You expectin' a share in the Book if we sell?"
"That would only be fair..." he eyed her calmly. Studying her face carefully as she quickly repressed a slightly downcast look...
Oh...So, that's it. Slight bitterness…
And he seemed such a…
"Ow!" he frowned, pulling away…
"Tole ya to hold still…"
…
"Help!...Police!"
Vladmir looked up from the young woman he'd stopped to chat with and feed upon as she made her way to her laundress duties...
"The look on your face...Priceless..." Olive grinned, stepping into view.
"Madame, if I may be so bold. Damn you..." he frowned. "You do know someone might hear you..."
"Worse yet, someone might have seen you...And did..." she stared back.
"Touche..." he reluctantly gave in. "Would you care for..." he offered the girl's neck...
"Ate on the way over..." Olive shook her head. "But don't let my bad manners spoil your meal..."
He shrugged and returned to his feeding...
"Heinrich urges us to take care not to lose the Slayer…Or her companions...And though we must spare her for now, we are sanctioned to kill any of her group we please." she noted.
"Nice of him...Will he be accompanying us to California?"
"Lord, I'd hope he'd have enough brains to avoid that. And he does...He'll meet us in California...Careful with your dinner..." she politely noted.
"I'm not spilling anything on your dress, am I?" he asked politely, pulling the girl back a moment.
"No, thanks...But if you don't plan to turn the young lady..." Olive noted the fast-fading girl. "I sense her life force is just about...Done..." she smiled. As the girl's head lolled... "I'd find somewhere convenient to stash her rotting corpse…"
"Yes…" Vladmir sighed. "Sorry, poor dear…" he addressed the corpse. "No time for the proper amenities…May you find your eternal happiness in Heaven." He dragged the body to a manhole and opening it, dropped the girl's corpse down…
Splash… "Farewell, my sweet…" he touched fingers to his lips. "My manifold thanks…"
"Touching…" Olive said dryly.
"A little kindness and respect towards the short-lived never does one harm…" Vladmir said quietly. "Have you considered my…?"
"Stop, please…" Olive raised a hand. "I've given you my answer for the moment. Don't force to me to make a final decision too soon…"
"That you even consider my proposal is enough…" he bowed slightly.
"Suppose we focus on the job at hand…Has there been any news?"
"Your little friend dropped by. Said our Marie had succeeded in establishing a relationship and is indeed bound for California with our friends."
"Excellent…" Olive nodded. "Then we should prepare our own travel arrangements…Perhaps my little minion could be of use there."
"The usual deceased relations in coffin? Or do we go as freight in a box…?" Vladmir sighed a bit.
Lord, I hope she intends two. I do not like sharing, even with someone I care for, let alone Nast's wavering chief concubine…
"Unless you'd like to hide out in the train this night, hoping they don't suddenly switch trains in the morning…" Olive regarded him.
"No, it's probably the best way…But shouldn't we use an adult?"
"You didn't have the girl for an appetizer?" Olive frowned.
"Certainly not…" the Count frowned at the suggestion of boorish behavior. "I never take another's…she's yours. And we needed a notebearer…I'm just saying the girl seemed a bit young…"
"All the better to keep the Slayer's suspicions low. She'll naturally wonder about any good-sized boxes, let alone coffins, in storage... An innocent little one like that in mourning should quiet any suspicions to a minimum."
"Well, at least summon the child and get her some decent clothes…She can't go on the train in her present rags."
"Don't fret, Vladmir…"
"And perhaps a bath…"
…
Miss Springs having requested a moment alone with her "cousin" Smackles before the joyous union, the impromptu wedding party, including future groom, waited in the hall outside Potter's room…
"So, he's on to something being played but is on board with this?" Smackles stared…Frowning. "This ain't so good…"
"He ain't quite so dumb as he looked…" she shrugged. "But he doesn't know what's really up…Thinks it's just about loot." involuntary sigh, at which Willie stared…
Jesus, don't you start going soft on me, Slayer…he frowned inwardly…
"So he wants a cut from sellin' the Book?"
"About the size of it…" she nodded. Unable to keep a shadow from crossing her face…
Just another greedy little so-and-so…Who seemed just like some sweet…Ummn…
"Yeah…" she came back to the practical…Job to do, no time for nonsense. "Which makes it all the better, really…He'll stick close until we get a handle on Nast and his guys…Then…"
"I mean it's easier now, right?" she said, almost to herself. Smackles watching, saying nothing…
"Of course…" she hesitated, looking at Willie. "Guy does have a family…Came out to do good for 'em…Can't blame him for tryin' to seize a chance, right?"
"Sure…" Willie nodded. "But we might wanna keep a close eye and closed mouth with him. We don't have much on him yet. And ya never know, you know?"
"Him?" she frowned. "Nah…Even if Nast were smart enough to use free humans…"
"Bears watchin', Slayer…" Willie shook his head.
"Couldn't having him closer than hitched with me…" she noted.
"I dunno…" Smackles, perturbed. "I don't like to say…But…"
"But, what?" she rose. "If you got somethin' to say, spill…"
"I think you're a little soft on him…" he said quietly. "And you might not be keepin' as close a watch as you ought…"
"I been ready to hand him to Nast and company all day. Whatdya mean, 'soft'?"
"I mean… 'Soft'…I think you're gettin' to like him…"
"I felt a lil' bad about gettin' the little guy killed, before he turned out to be on the make. But 'soft'? C'mon…" wave of hand. "Now, lets go get my beau and have a weddin'…"
"Right…" Smackles sighed. "But keep a watch…And I'm gonna keep checkin' his story…"
"That's fine…Don't worry, Willie." she patted him. "Guy'll be dead long before he can get to be trouble…Say, how'd you like my dress?" she smoothed the gown. Offering an arm…
"Great…" he sighed, taking the proffered arm…Sighing again at her eager look.
All ready too late as to trouble anyway, I see…