The Vampire as Metaphor...from 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 XXII…
["Cicely?" a voice, familiar, behind her…
"Henry…" Cicely turned, her breath a bit calmer now but face still flush, hair askew…The dread in her still high.
"What are you doing out here? Where's Will and the other gents?" a man, her own cousin, Henry Alexander Foxcroft, elegant in evening clothes, just alighted from his cab, came to her.
"It was too close in there for a moment…Had to get some air…"
"Without your wrap? You'll catch your death out here…"
Someone undoubtedly will, she thought, looking out at the falling twilight.
They always do…And while I mourn everyone I couldn't save…
It never touched me like this…Oh, God…What is he seeing, that little man, in his words and poetry?
My future?
His?
She felt the coat as Henry put his round her…Struggling for calm.
"Did you get Will to give a reading tonight as planned?" he asked, with smile concealing his concern.
My poor, bright, lovely, elegant, accomplished, but oh, so strangely troubled cousin…
I've been so hoping my equally bright and delightful but troubled, though largely in more open and practical way…Though he too has something about him, beyond his former poverty and lack of the ridiculous social graces, something that makes me somehow tremble for him as I do my Cicely… friend would help you find…Whatever it is you both so desperately seem to need and seek.
"Cicely?" William had emerged from the Addams townhouse, leading a trial of disappointed suitors and general hangers-on, Jonathan Levinson in the lead, with Henderson closing and then stridently passing.
"Miss Addams?" Henderson just shy of victory as Will reached her with barely an instant to spare anxiously eyeing. "It's all right, Walthrop. I'll take her inside." He sought to stake his claim, reaching for Cicely's arm.
"Excuse…Me." Cicely grimly pulling from the frustrated "Goodman Jack"… "I'm fine, gentlemen. I just needed some air. It was getting a bit close in there."
"Yes…Quite enough literary flights of fancy for one evening…" Henderson tried to take the high ground. "Lets…" he paused at Cicely's glare.
"I'm very anxious to hear the rest, Will…Lets go back in." she took his arm. "Henry? You'll love the tale William's been telling."
"Perhaps we should finish tomorrow…" Walthrop suggested, eyeing her still heavy breathing, flushed face.
I know it may be bad and embarrassing her, but…Surely this is more, he thought.
"That would be wise, Cicely…" Henderson tried again, breaking off at her fixed stare.
"I'm quite all right…" she insisted. "I apologize for making such a silly nuisance of myself but I am merely a vapid society ornament, eh William?" arch smile at him.
"I never said that, Miss Addams." He noted, slightly annoyed.
"No, merely that I've never experienced what real life has to offer…" she noted.
"Nonsense…" Henderson…His last charge the feeblest yet…Cicely and William eyeing him briefly then dismissing him in a move so subconsciously joint as to set Jonathan's heart into a deep sigh.
So…That's that…Well…The fellow seems a good enough sort.
And one can't expect every British Jew to be as successful as Disraeli in love and politics…
"Perhaps you're right…I do seem to have gone all vapors and fainting spells on a sudden…" Cicely smiled archly at William. "At least minus the full fainting, on some settee…"
"It was close in there…I was about ready to faint myself." William smiled. "Perhaps we'd best call it an evening, so far my reading is concerned."
"Not at all…I'll be fine now…" Cicely insisted. "I want to hear the rest. Henry?" she turned to him. "You'd like to hear Will, wouldn't you?" she taking his arm as well.
"Really..I think…" Henderson mumbled as the group of Cicely, Will, Henry passed him by.
A mildly sympathetic Levinson eyeing him…Give it up, old fellow. Henderson glancing about angrily now…Catching his eye and grimly frowning…
No goddamn Levite is going to pity me…
Fine, then…I tried, Jonathan shrugged.
"Indeed…" Henry noted in answer to Cicely's question. "Though if you're a bit tired, perhaps tomorrow night? Will can let me catch up by reading his manuscript?"
Hmmn…Another night…Tomorrow…Time to think this through and speak to the one person who might understand what all this could portend, my Watcher, Simon, Cicely thought.
And an excuse to have Will back here…After I've had a chance to speak to Henry about borrowing his cottage…
Besides…Will did offer to show me a few of his haunts some evening…May as well be tonight after we rush this gang out. Nothing like a few stout ales to perk up a fainting symph of a lady, eh?
"Perhaps tomorrow would be better, I am a bit tired." She noted.
"Tomorrow then…Lets make our goodbyes and clear the house of this lot." Henry suggested, with grin.
"Lets…" she agreed. "And then we can go get something at that place you tole me of, Will…What was the name? The Dog and Duck…?"
As if I'd never gone on my own…
"Henry, you can join us…"
If you must…In any case, no need to use the official "chaperone" till it's official…And Will would be all nervous and finding excuses to dodge out on me, our outings spoilt, if it becomes "official"… Before I've well prepared the ground.
As say, by a weekend at Henry's cottage…
Couldn't back out of that sort of "official" once done, eh boyo…She eyed the unsuspecting William…
Henry blinking…The Dog and…? The one where they race said dogs and said ducks to the death?
Jonathan, hearing as he turned to head for the door, ready to have Smike summon a cab…
Wait…The Dog and…? The place where I was dragged along with my graduating class?
A quick memory flash, through the haze of years and considerable alcohol that evening…A young dark-haired girl in working class clothes in the racing/fighting pit, waving at the ducks and dogs…
Waving a…Yes, a stick or something like…
"Flee! Scamper! You're all free!" her cry as the angry staff and bettors shook fists and a couple lept into the pit to seize her, one large fellow tossed back…Another falling back and actually fleeing from her into a dark hallway…
Didn't Symmons insist he'd passed them and the fellow turned into a dust cloud? Though he could barely stand by that time.
No…No, it couldn't have been…He stared over at Cicely beaming at William, in arm with him and Henry as they strolled back to the house.
Just some girl who happened to resemble…
"I was joking about us going, Miss Addams. I just meant…" Will, nervous glance to his friend…His rather perturbed friend…What have you been doing with my cousin?...Henry.
"Yes, too rough for such an elegant lady as myself." She shrugged. "We'll find some easier place…"
Hell we will…Just have to be sure no one recognizes me.
He might get the wrong impression how I know the place…
A Slayer has to have somewhere to unwind whilst waiting till it's safe to slip back into the house after Father's gone to bed.
As for the rest…Not now…It could just be coincidence. One can get obsessed with seeing doom-laden portents everywhere when one deals with the Apocalypse so constantly…
I'll speak to Simon…He'll put my fears to rest. Though best not yet to tell him I may be seeing someone. Not till I'm sure and feel right about having him swear to keep my secret from the Council.
"Did she say she was going to…?" Henderson addressed Levinson…
"What, old fellow?" Jonathan eyed him.
"Nothing…Ridiculous. I must have misheard. Worst dive in London, nearly had my throat cut there going, on a lark…"
"Oh…?" pleasantly.
"What are you going on about, Levinson? I'm off to my club." Henderson glared, impatiently waving to Smike in the doorway.
And perhaps if Wooster can arrange it on such notice, a rendezvous with Sophie…?
Rather remarkable resemblance that girl…But no nonsense with her. Cash on the barrelhead. Still, when one is playing for a sizable fortune and to have Sir Richard Addams as one's well-connected father-in-law…Some nonsense can be tolerated, to a point…He glared over at William entering the house with Cicely.]
"Elisabeth…" Potter paused as they scanned the gorge before them, he just down from a quick climb up.
"Yeah?" she eyed him coolly.
Nothing so far on this side, but far more likely he was torn apart under…She shuddered an instant…
"Isn't it about time?" he gave her a careful but intense stare.
"I'm not ready to give up just yet, even if he's dead…I wanna find…Whatever we can. You can go back if you like."
"You know that's not what I mean…" he regarded her.
That drawn face isn't mourning the loss of some partner in crime…He noted to himself. And this is not about a quick score and profit, even if I may be a mark.
"It's not yer business." She said, calmly.
"You married me…That makes it my business, regardless of your motives." He insisted.
"You'll get what's coming to you…Don't worry." She noted, bitter tone…Slight trembling of lips.
"Pardon me but that sounds like a threat not a promise of reward…"
"However you like…" she waved a hand which he caught and held…She angrily jerking it away, nearly knocking him over.
"Goddamn you! Whodaya think ya are?!"
"Your husband…By your choice." He said, calmly.
She eyed him angrily but calmed…Tense in a way that made him think she was far more dangerous calm than angry.
"I'm sorry about that. We'll fix it later, in Frisco. It was just…" she gasped.
"Elisabeth, I'm so sorry…" he took her hand.
"Lemme go!" she pulled away, the violence of her pull back stunning him for an instant.
"Fine." He shook head. "When you want to talk, I'm here." He made for the slope of the gorge…She watching him.
"Hey!" a cry from their fellow searcher, Detective Harris, from the train track…He visible by a glow from his lantern, waving arms at them.
She looked at Peter who looked to her…
"C'mon…" she urged.
…
"Not much left of him, poor fellow…" Harris sighed, indicating the huddled mass on the tracks. "Looks like his suit, if I remember right from the hotel last night…Can you…?" he asked Elisabeth, with remarkably gentle tone.
"I'm ok…" she turned to Potter who was clearly about to suggest she not be required to view the remains
"Yeah…It's him…" Elisabeth nodded calmly, peering down at the upturned face, eyes staring into her.
Oh…Pa…The only pa I ever knew. The only one who ever gave a damn…
The only person on Earth besides me who gave a damn about Ma…And still cherished her memory, twenty years on.
Ana grim…
Well, at least I've already done tossing my cookies, being the one to spy him first, she thought…
…