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 XXIV…
[Walthrop having resumed his tale the next evening to Henderson's glared annoyance…I thought we were done with this nonsensical coddling of the upstart poet.
Apparently not…He eyed Cicely watching William speak…
Clearly a losing game here for me…What ails these foolish women, to choose some nincompoop ninny over a real man…A man of pedigree and wealth, if somewhat reduced in wealth by the mischance this world imposes. After all, tis not easy to maintain a position as leading sportsman even in the best circumstances…Terrible thing that one's capital should diminish…I thought we had people to tend to that sort of thing. There ought to be protective legislation for the great families so they need never fear diminishment. Must speak to Sir Richard again about that, he seemed interested in the notion…Cut to shot of Sir Richard with Henderson at dining table, Sir Richard amused by the dense fool's prattlings enough to issue forth a few caustic and cutting remarks….
And what was that about the British not being trustworthy, frowning up at Walthrop at lectern… Impudent pup, favoring the damn Yank barbarians like that. Damned fellow ought to be taught a lesson. No place in decent society for a damned fellow like that. Muzzle them before their poison spreads, that's what Jack Henderson says. No place at all…In Decent Society…
Except it seems, here…The place I'd least like to see him. But Foxcroft and Cicely always were radicals. Comes from allowing women to read, foolish notion. They'll be wanting to vote and stand for Parliament next, mark my words…]
The proper burial and quick service over…Vladimir and Olive keeping a respectable distance as strangers wishing to express sympathy yet not intrude…The group had reboarded the train and, much to the relief of the conductor, the train was again underway. Pausing by the Potters' berth to see them to bed.
"Well, once again, Mrs. Potter, Dr. Potter…Let me express my profoundest sympathies and regrets. I hold myself somewhat responsible for not seeing and acting more quickly…" Vladimir, hat doffed.
"Thanks…No one to blame…" Elisabeth, a bit wanly.
"Dear lady, thank you…Good night and try to rest well. Good night, all." Vladimir nodded to the general group including several other passengers now including 'Wainwright' and Miss Sinclair just back from the platform ahead.
"Yes…Good night, dear." Olive nodded to Elisabeth. "I am so sorry for your loss." Sympathetic smile to Elisabeth's nod, turning…
"Mr. Wainwright, hello again." She smiled at Oliver Wainwright before her in the car. "Decided to finish your dress, eh?"
"I did indeed, Miss Giles. Sorry again to have embarrassed you." Touch of hat.
"Not at all…I'm joking." Sigh. "A terribly sad evening…" taking solemn tone.
"Miss…Giles?" Vladimir up ahead, briefly greeting Miss Sinclair. "You should get to bed, dear!"
"Coming, sir." She called.
Well, managed not to choke on the 'sir'…I can handle this.
And him…She glanced ahead.
"I hope we can still manage breakfast…I do want to hear about your work and travels." She smiled at Wainwright.
"And I, yours, Miss Giles. Well, just rap at my berth when you're headed down. If I'm not in, you'll find me in the dining car." 'Wainwright' noted.
"I'll definitely try…If the Count has no sudden flight of literary inspiration requiring me. Good night, sir." She beamed, bowing slightly.
Miss…He returned bow.
Hmmn…He wasn't with that high-class whore, was he? He came in with her.
Men. Frown.
Still…Could just be a coincidence…They do happen.
She waved to him as he passed Miss Sinclair, he waving back.
Hmmn…No, I don't think they were a couple…Even for rent by the hour.
Nice fellow really…Even if his hands are stained with blood from selling arms…
That would be nice for me in any case…I could lick it off and…
Whoa, girl…Where did that image come from? She thought, a bit startled.
Clearly this associating with humans closely without killing or feeding has a detrimental effect.
Or, maybe…I'm just lonely.
No, I'm quite content with Heinrich…Though he may kill me as quickly as he'd praise me, we share a spiritual union on an exalted plane…
Of necessity, given his little, secret…Infirmity…
But one that will lead one day soon to my coronation as his Queen…
Well, a revolutionary Queen…
Unless of course he takes that Slayer bitch…Or the next one…
Or learns, probably at Vladimir's dying hands, that I did vaguely consider Vladimir's schemes.
Though a good agent should learn all she can and as necessary, agree with her target to acquire trust and then knowledge. Heinrich should understand that…
Right…My paranoid vampiric lord will understand. Besides, to be fair, I am considering Vladimir's concerns. Heinrich could very well be threatening us all with his mad plans to tap the Mouth's power. Or he might possibly succeed. Or succeed but attract attention and attacks from enemies that even the Mouth's power can't defend him against.
I do need to keep my options open here.
And I could just possibly be in the market for a new mate…Moving down the car, she beamed at Wainwright as he paused a last time at the door and looked back to her, waving again.
Well, hell…If the Slayer can relinquish her duty to scoop some nebbish…
"Shall we head back to our car, Miss Giles?" Vladimir, now just ahead of her. Miss Sinclair passing her in the opposing direction, on the way to her own car, a quick smile and nod to her.
Hmmn…No…I like my dinners clean if possible. Besides, best to refrain from such with the Slayer in play. I've plenty in bottles at my crate for now.
…
Elisabeth and Potter in their berth, both now in nightdress, the train largely at peace…
"I want you to go, Peter." She whispered. "I don't want you to die too. And you will if you stay with me, I can't say no more."
"I'm fine where I am…And forewarned is forearmed." He shrugged. "Well at least I know someone is out to kill you. And ready to take a shot at me, just in case I know something."
"Damn you…" she fumed.
"Careful…Walls have ears and these curtains don't need them."
"Fine. You made your bed, you lie in it…" she noted grimly. "Do me."
"Excuse me…?" he stared.
"We're on our honeymoon, do me. I want you." She noted, grimly.
"Please…" she eyed him, a single tear running. "I love you, that do it for yer?" hard stare.
"Yes, I'd say so." he nodded to her reluctant smile.
…