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 XXVIII…
"Sorry you're not feeling well, Elisabeth." Potter noted as he and Ana led Elisabeth down the car…
"Yeah…Thanks." Grim look.
Sorry to interrupt yer love-fest with yer fellow antiquarian type.
"Harris or the Count will find a doc soon…" Ana, soothingly. "You don't think you et something bad?"
"No…" Elisabeth shook head. "Unless that lunch yesterday…No one else is sick, right?"
"No…I'm fine…You, Miss Jenkins?" Peter asked.
"Fine…Must be somethin' else." Ana nodded. Casual look to wall…
"It's not that…" Elisabeth, narrow look to Ana. "We jest got started…"
"Hmmn?" Potter stared at the two.
"Nuthin', come on, I'm…Ooooh…" Elisabeth vomited again, falling to her knees, groaning. Ohhhh…
"Sweetheart…" Potter kneeling down…
"She's burning up." Ana, feeling forehead. "Hey, porter!" she called to a porter coming up with sour look, seeing the mess. "We need some ice for the lady, you got any?"
"I'll get some…You best get her to her berth. It's not catchin', is it?" the porter eyed Elisabeth, still groaning on her knees.
"God knows…" Ana frowned. "Bring some towels as well, a couple wetted down."
"I think…It may be typhoid." Potter eyed her, lowering voice. "The symptoms are right and I'd read there was an outbreak in New York."
"Typhoid…Jesus." Ana shook head.
"I'll be fine…Get me to my berth." Elisabeth, rising slowly.
"Hey there! Doc!" Harris called from behind, entering from rear car door… "Is the lady ok?"
"Afraid not…" Potter called back. "Any luck with that doctor?"
"Nope…But the Count wanted to know if you'd like to take his compartment? It's closer, just down there…" Harris pointed. "She might rest easier."
"Thanks, tell him that's very kind…We'll do that."
"Right. I'll keep lookin' for a doc…No offense." Harris waved, turning to tap at berth. "Hey, any docs in this car?!" he called.
"Come, Elisabeth…Lets get you settled." Potter urged.
Sweetheart…She looked at him, a bit vague now…
Dats nice…Clutching his hand.
"I love you, Peter…" she told him, rather solemnly if blearily. "I wouldn't let them kill ya…"
"I'm sure…" he patted her. "Come on and we'll get you to bed. Miss Jenkins?"
Ana nodded as both supported Elisabeth and half-carried, half-dragged her now quite feverish body down the car, Harris peering after them.
Lord…Did not need this in the mix…Even if she recovers, she could be laid up in Chicago for days…Weeks.
Still, they can't act without her, so West says the Brits told him.
"Detective!" Vladimir's rather cheery voice from the doorway… "Good news! I've located a physician!" he stepped in, a large if somewhat grizzled old fellow in rumpled suit following, bearing bag.
"How is the dear lady?!"
…
"Might be the typhoid…" the elderly physician nodded thoughtfully as he, Potter, Harris, Vladimir, a concerned…Not entirely for the patient…Conductor, and Olive and Wainswright, newly arrived…
You let her have your compartment? She eyed Vladimir, gallantly standing ready to assist in any way…
Tell me you didn't leave notes…Antique memorabilia of your family…
…That thin layer of native soil we have to have to rest more than a few hours…
Still…It does help to throw off suspicion and keep her away from us.
"…might not…" the doctor concluded.
"The symptoms resemble typhoid…And it was breaking out in New York when we were there." Potter noted
"Perhaps…Could be the appendix….Though she hasn't a pain in the right spot, so I'd say not. Or a bad cold." Shrug. "Jest have to see how the course goes."
"Well, can you recommend any treatment?" Potter asked, a bit annoyed.
"The ice might be ok…Might not. Don't want her to go and get pneumonia. But can't have her burning like that. Best thing to do might be to bleed her a few pints."
Really? Vladimir reflected, repressing his eagerness.
Much as Slayer blood would be a cherished prize for any vampire…We don't need her dead at the hands of a quack.
"Isn't that now a practice frowned on?" he queried, looking to Potter who nodded.
"Last I heard, yes. It's actually detrimental, so says 'The Lancet'…"
"New fangled notions…" the doctor frowned.
"1853, if I remember the article in question, sir." Potter noted.
"And I may ask, feller? Are you perchance a doctor?"
"I'm a dentist…But…"
"Then stick to yankin' teeth and leave me to my work." The doctor, curtly.
"I'm the patient's husband, sir. And I will have my say."
"I believe Dr. Potter is quite right." Olive chimed in. "I've read that article he mentioned."
Actually did…Rather sorry to see it…Nothing like having human physicians do our work for us…Manys a time I've quaffed a bowl while attending at the bedside of some poor soul.
"Another would-be 'doc', eh? A woman?" the doctor glared. "Well, if you'd rather take the case…"
"I believe there are a number of lady physicians now…Sir." Olive frowned.
"Indeed…" Wainswright agreed. "And I think the lady is quite right here, Doctor."
"Fine, then…I wash my hands of the case. But, listen you…Conductor. If the typhoid breaks out on this train and you've not let a doctor treat the case when he was on hand…" hard stare to the Conductor.
"Maybe it's best…Mr. Potter." The conductor urged.
"I don't want my wife bled." Potter, firmly. "And I want to approve any treatments you suggest, Doctor…"
"I think Dr. Potter's best one to make the call here…" Harris insisted. "So long as the good doc here has a look and monitors her. This is a police matter now, doc." Stern look at the large physician. "You stay on the case. Just let Potter here sign on on anything."
"I think that's wise, Doctor." Vladimir urged.
Look at us…Olive sighed involuntarily…Not only fighting to save a Slayer, but demanding her blood not be taken.
Still…There'll be time to sample choice Slayer blood later if all goes well…
The real question is what to do if we must stay with her in Chicago…?
Still, Heinrich would rather practice his patience than lose the game…Just have to get word to him that…
Ah…She eyed Vladimir.
I see now…
Not bad, Vladimir…The noble and wealthy Count de la Cule offers his room on the train and no one is surprised to find him intervening to see Mrs. Potter is well cared for in Chicago. And we, kind new friends of the Potters, naturally staying to see the dear girl recovers and has all she may need.
Actually Heinrich will love it…Just his sort of thing. Though we'll have to find a telegraph office and see about his accounts set up in Chicago…While finding a quick source of the Count's fortune to tide us over till we have a more legitimate source.
But it's said to be a booming City…
"What about quarantine, Doctor?" Vladimir asked. "Should we isolate ourselves here? All of us having been in contact with your patient?"
Olive blinking…He offering her the briefest of arch looks.
The Dracule are famed for their natural instinct in battle…
…