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 XV...
"You're sure about this, Harris?..." the small but lithe man in rather fine mixed light and dark blue suit eyed him from his chair. Hat perched on the desk he was borrowing from a very reluctantly consenting Port Authority supervisor as an "official inspector" from Washington, D.C.
"I am…" Detective Harris nodded… "The girl has to be the Slayer. The feller…Well, he has the look of a Watcher but if he is he's a top-notch actor as to wet-behind-the-ears. But in any case it's her and the Other Side is gunnin' for her."
"So you think it's Secret Service business? And you want to follow her across country?" the man drummed fingers.
"It's gotta be the Hellmouth. We know Nast and his people have been here and are lookin'…" Harris paused. "Are we interested or no?"
"We are…As in President Grant is…And therefore we are." the man nodded. "And given what the Brits tried to do to the country during the War, we don't want them gaining sole control of something important here. After all the Hellmouth appears to be on US soil…"
"That's what I'm sayin', Mr. West, sir."
"Right…All right then, Harris…For now, it's your baby. Follow the girl and her companions and keep us informed. I'll be in the neighborhood bye-and-bye after my partner and I deal with a little…As in Dr. Loveless-sized…Problem." West smiled. Eyeing Harris…
"So…You really believe in this occult stuff, Harris? The whole Slayer/vampire, etc shebang?..."
"I've seen enough to convince me, sir. Though everything has an explanation in Science, I guess. What matters is knowin' how to deal with the Enemy…Occult boys…Or Rebs…Or Brits."
(Several in the Brit-to-a-man group eyeing Walthrop…Hmmn… Cicely putting out a warning counterfrown…Literary license, people.)
West nodded thoughtfully. "Good…'Cause I've seen quite a few things myself, whatever my partner may think of the supernatural. Keep a good cross and stake handy, Harris. And try to keep operations to daylight as much as possible. Nast's folks are most vulnerable then and the Slayer is less likely to cross you up since she and her Council prefer to keep their hand hidden."
"She is an American." Harris noted. "I could try her if things get hairy."
"You could…But Slayers and their Council tend to see things in the same light. And the Council being Brit-dominated, that light tends to be the sun that never sets on their Empire." West noted shrewdly. "But it's up to you, you're the man on the spot till Artie and I show…"
"Right, sir…Sir?"
"Alex?"
"I was thinking of taking a friend along…For cover. My fiancée, as a matter of fact."
"Your fiancée?" West, carefully. "She have an active death wish? Or is it something you want out of?"
"I'll look after her. She's makin' a stink about my goin' and it would be good cover if she came, since the Slayer and her friend do know me. They'd wonder if I was alone…"
West sighed, then shrugged. "You know what you're doing, that's why you're here. But remember, Harris…" he stared intently. "I've had to put the person I love most in the world at risk for the mission and I expect you to do the same."
Don't ask, don't tell…Harris thought. Even if everyone in the Service knows about him and Gordon…
"I wouldn't bring An along if I weren't ready to put everything on line for the mission. I know what's at stake here, sir."
"Good…Because if she's in the way when we reach the scene I won't look out for her. And the risk here is more than just a bullet through the guts." wan smile. "Alex…Once she's done you the benefit of cover put her on a train or in a nice safe hotel room…"
"If I can, sir."
"Right…" West had risen from his chair. Briefly eyeing a black-haired mouse which darted now across the floor of the office. Harris looking as well…
"Oh, and Harris?"
"Sir?..." Harris noted the mouse had halted in the center of the room and seemed to be chattering agitatedly.
"Run…!" West pointed to the door. Harris not needing another word, raced with him for the door. Both men running back from the building as men and women working about the Port Office area stared…
"Clear out!" West called, waving them back. As an explosion from the vacant office rocked the area.
"The good doctor Loveless having his early morning fun." he noted, rising and brushing off his suit as Harris did likewise.
….
6:15 am…Freight car of the New York Hudson River Railroad…
Hmmn…Vladimir frowned at the thin coverlet between himself and the wood slats of the cover of his freight crate. If anyone had told me this was the way the current Lord of the Dracule would be traveling cross-continent…He sighed. Well, at least I brought some note paper and quills and ink. Plenty of time to begin the long-put-off task of writing my memoirs…
If only there were a bit more light in this damned thing. Now my own dear coffin has that wonderful sealed oil lamp. Burning without visible smoke through the ventilation hole…And the small wine cask, suitable for wine or blood…And my portable writing desk…All those amenities essential for long and boring travel.
All I can say is, I'd better be able to get this damned thing open at night. Or some poor wretches on this train are going to have their night's sleep profoundedly and disturbingly disrupted…
Hope our little friend doesn't get distracted by all the excitement of travel and forgets us. Now, if I can just get this quill out…Ah…
Yes, "Memoirs of the House of Dracule…1125-1869…" Hmmn? Ought I to go back further? The marauding barbarian chieftain years?...Damn…Dropped the quill…
I'd wager…Well, one must be sensible in these hard economic times…The five American greenbacks I took off that corpse the other night, yes…Olive's crate is bigger.
…..
8:45 am…New York Hudson River Railroad station…Branch line to Buffalo for transfer to the Buffalo-Chicago train…
"You got the tickets, Petey?" Elizabeth addressed her new husband…
"Right here…" he patted his coat just above his waistcoat pocket.
"Don't let the porter have the sachel." Willie insisted. Eyeing the sachel bag containing the Book, held firmly in Potter's grip. "I can take it if you like…"
"That won't be necessary." Peter said, firmly. "Besides I was planning to make a start this morning once we're settled."
"It's ok, Willie." Elizabeth eyed Smackles. "Pete's got it well in hand…"
Yeah…Too well…And too many things vital to Humanity's survival in those unknown and uncertain Brit hands…Willie thought.
Miss DeRussell came to them… "Are we ready?" she asked, pleasantly.
"Sure…" Elizabeth nodded.
"Are your bags secure, Miss DeRussell?" Potter turned to her.
"Oh, yes…Alls ready…So, Mr. Smackles? You are coming as far as Chicago?" she smiled at Willie.
"That's right…I got business there." he nodded.
Not so bad, after a night's sleep…He thought, looking her over. She catching his gaze and clearly preening a bit.
And not all that innocent, lady-like as she is…
Still, seems ok…
Elizabeth a bit peeved at the sudden focus of attention on only one lady of the party. By both husband and "beloved cousin"…
"Lets make tracks. The car seats are first come, served. And I wanna check our berths…" she noted. Putting arm round Potter's…
"Hoist me up, there, honey." she indicated the train car stair.
"Of course…" Potter climbed up. Was about to set down the sachel but was halted by a loud cough from Smackles…Held the sachel and extended an arm…
"Miss De Russell?...Here we go…"
Elizabeth's look taking on a Slayer intensity…
"Ah, thank you, Dr. Potter." Marie beamed at Potter, standing by him in the train corridor.
"Dear?..." he offered an arm to Elizabeth. Who eyed him narrowly as she gained the last step and entered the corridor…
What was that? Her expression transparent…
Smackles frowning as he climbed aboard…
Yeah, got 'im right where you want 'im…
….