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 XXXIII…
[The rooms of one Simon Duncan Farris...Historian, antiquarian, scholar to most...Watcher Extraordinaire to a few in the know as to the secrets of the Royal Council of Antiquarians and Librarians aka the Council of Watchers.
Sorcerer par excellence, to himself...A very few fellow such, some occult creatures consulted by or fought with, and the victims of his power...
Current Watcher and trusted advisor to the current Slayer, Cicely Anne Addams...
"You say young Walthrop's story has continually mentioned the Slayer...Vampires...Even the Hellmouth and the one we believe seeks to open it, Heinrich Nast, by specific name?" Farris eyed his informant, the Addams' footman, Smike, standing before him, slouched a bit, in his street clothes. Off to the side, seated in a chair, a woman of late thirties in drab but respectable clothes, watching...
"Yes, sir, Mr. F..." Smike nodded, smiling at the stern-faced, silver-haired old...Gotta be near sixty, the old fart...Man seated at large desk.
"Doctor...Farris, boy." Farris grimly, cold stare.
"Right, Dr. Farris. But that's what he's been sayin'...Along with the stuff about the Yanks and darkies and all..."
Did find the brothel bits rather nice...Wish the little nobody would say more about those girls...
Imagine...If you could be a vampire like that fellow in the story, get the lassies to do...Anything...Faint leer which he wiped as the seated woman eyed him narrowly...
Vampire as a lot more than "metaphor" if one Smike were it, I tell you...Silly crap as it all may be...
Just so long as it pays...After all, money's not a bad "metaphor" with certain ladies...
Farris shaking head, pacing... "Impossible. The boy couldn't know these things...What has Cicely's response been?"
Uh...Smike shrugged, straightening up at Farris' stare. "Well, sir...I haven't been able to overhear them talking much but..They really haven't been together per se, see...But... She seems nervous when he talks about those things. Like she can't believe he knows them...I don't think she's told him about them."
"Of course not, she would never..." Farris fumed.
"There's something about that boy...He's tapping into the occult somehow, someway...Or, he's not what he seems. And I have had him observed, he's simply a boy of no name or special gifts. At least the best determination I can make is that." pacing...
"And last night he mentioned a legend about the First Slayer? And spoke of the Turok Han?" pausing to eye Smike carefully.
"Yes, sir...Pretty wild stuff...I thought he'd finally finish but not yet...Cicely's having him continue tomorrow night."
"Indeed...So she's truly intrigued by him?" slight sneer.
"I guess..." Smike leered. "You know how these rich girls..."
"Quiet!" Farris, annoyed. "You are not to speak of Cicely in any such way, you understand?"
"Sure...Doctor. But after all, it's all just crazy stories, right?" Smike eyed him.
"So far as you are concerned, they're stories you never heard, you fool." Farris, coldly. "But make sure you are there tomorrow and report back to me."
Uh... "Sure, doc...But..." Smike dodged the little string-drawn sack tossed at him.
"Your purse...More than you deserve as usual..." Farris noted. "Now get out and do as I've told you."
"Sure, doctor..." Smike backing out and closing door.
"Well, Ames?" Farris turned to the seated woman...
"The boy's a fool but..." she paused.
"But...Cicely's young poet has stumbled into knowledge he should not...Indeed cannot...Be privy to. However much a fool Smike maybe, he's accurate in his recounting. And the facts are too specific to deny or ignore."
"I actually meant..." she began. He eyeing her...
"Walthrop is no fool, Ames. A foolish romantic, certainly but not a fool...A fool would never win Cicely's heart."
"Are we sure that...?"
"I know her...As you have failed to do in your time with her." cool stare. "It's a pity. Had you become someone she trusted and cared for as her governess, I would not have to employ such worthless tools as Smike."
"I did as I was bid." Ames frowned. "The girl was not amenable to me nor I to her. But I have always done my duty to the Council, whatever my feelings."
"Yes...Well, slight as Cicely's affection for you is, you can still confirm some of Smike's observations when you meet with her. Just try to be somewhat warm, Ames. Cicely is a dutiful girl and will feel obliged to recognize you when you 'by chance' encounter her, and she respects you as one of my agents known to her, but she would be far more open if she feels some affection on your part."
"I will do what I can, doctor." Ames nodded. "I should point out, affection is a two-way street...And Cicely has always made it clear I am not one she holds dear."
"It was your job to make that so..." Farris eyed her. "But you can try to make up for your failures now."
Ames, reddening...
That little spoilt chit of a girl...Everything, even her power, handed to her on silver platter...Damn her...
Still...I will not let her ruin my career with the Council...Whatever I must swallow of my pride to accomplish that...
"Of course, doctor...I will do as I said, all that I can..."
"Good..." he eyed her. "Try to get Cicely to confide her fears to you...She may not specifically mention Walthrop's tales but anything she says of him could be useful."
"These tales..." Ames, in spite of her disdain, concerned...
"Yes, they're far too close to the truth...Fortunately, even Cicely isn't aware how much so..."
"But the Hellmouth was...Is...Safe...Even Nast can't try for some years yet to secure it." she eyed Farris.
"Seven years...Before all things are in alignment for his effort...Walthrop is seeing the future, in some bizarre fashion. And it's in part your task to learn what more of the future he sees and how useful his visions be...It could be crucial."
"Of course..." she rose... "But if I may say, she's not worthy of her position, giving herself to this person..."
"She has not...And she yet may not...Given herself, Ames." cold tone. "Do remember that I do bear considerable affection and respect for our Slayer. And if you cannot bear her affection, you owe her, at least as a member of the Council, and one who knows of her deeds, respect."
"Yes, sir. But I must say as I feel. Miss Addams is endangering the Council and Humanity with her pursuit of some...This poet, whose poetry, if I may say..."
He put up a hand... "The quality of William Soames Walthrop's poetry is of no concern to me nor should it be to you...It's the subject matter of his writings that should. There is a bond between our Slayer and this man...And he is, somehow, learning of matters and things of the Underworld, I believe through this bond. Meaning that this bond is both very strong and, potentially, very dangerous."
"Then it should be broken, at once. The Slayer has her Duty..." Ames, stridently. "And even if Miss Addams has never fully respected the necessary burdens of her Duty..."
"That is for the Council to determine, Miss Ames." Farris, sternly...
Though it never hurts to have a voice voluntarily pressing...He thought. And one, if not as regarded as mine, at least known to have had long experience with this Slayer.
"I believe, when faced with the demands of her Duty, Cicely will accept the decision, if any, the Council is forced to make..." he noted.
Perhaps...He thought...
But if even the joint voice of the Council, allied to mine own reluctant pleas...Cannot dissuade her from this course...
"You may know her well, Doctor Farris..." Ames eyed him. "But I believe she'll follow her heart...She is weak, I've always felt so."
"Your opinion, Ames...Is your own...At the current time, it is not mine. Good night. Let me hear from you as soon as you've met with her."
She nodded, heading out through the door...He closing...Resuming his seat at his large desk.
No, my opinion must always be for Cicely...Though if I cannot lead her to the right path, I must be reluctantly persuaded to the majority, he pondered. Regarding a small minature portrait on his desk...Cicely, four years ago, a miniature painted from a photograph she'd had her cousin take. A gift to him, one he sincerely cherished...
Yes...After I have seen to it that the majority opinion is one I fostered and nutured...
But, pray God or gods, as one likes, may it be one that leaves me the option to save her...To lead her to turn to me, denying both the dictates of the Council and the transitory calls of a young girl's heart.
It must be transitory...I will not, I cannot allow otherwise. I cannot allow that this bond, this damned bond between that little...and my Cicely is anything but the transitory romantic stirrings of a young and impressionable girl...That it could ever be more...
I made her a queen...A warrior queen...My instrument for my natural rise to the power I should enjoy by divine right of my abilities. But, more...My consort...My Queen...Mine.
I cannot lose her if I wish the power I should wield...But I cannot lose her in any case...Like Heathcliff, however terrible my passion may be, I cannot live without my heart. I cannot die without my soul.
And I will, like Heathcliff, take any action...Any...Revenge...To see that no one takes her from me.
If I have to break her all to pieces in the process...]
"You're not serious..." Olive, now seated in Vladimir's sleeping compartment in their still sided-off train...Detective Harris now carefully up and about under Miss Jenkins' tender, if at times stern, care…
"Quite..." Vladimir, adjusting his large grey top hat...Bearing a wide-to-the-limit-of-style, brim… "Is it quite...?"
"Very dashing...It'll look just fine covering your ashes out there..." she mockingly noted. "Are you mad? Going with the Potters for a stroll, in daylight? It's sunny out, Vladimir...As I nearly found out the hard way moments ago."
"One must take a few risks in Unlife, Olive, my dear..." Vladimir smiled. "I'm covered well, my gloves will protect my hands, I have my hat and this umbrella..." he raised said umbrella… "To fend off the strong sun which is not unusual practice even for mortals. The Potters have graciously invited me to tour Chicago with them and I must accept...Earning their trust and the Slayer's acceptance of me as fully human."
"One good gust of wind..." she noted.
"I have checked carefully...The day is windless. Besides, we'll be touring a variety of establishments indoors. And checking into our hotel in six hours. I'm sure I can manage." smile… "But I thank you for your concern, Miss Giles."
"Hardly...But if we are considering a partnership...Not to mention our work for Heinrich..."
"This furthers both and the risk is all mine."
"If the Slayer learns what you are, via your impromptu dusting in the light of day, she'll surely suspect me as well." Olive, grimly. "Sir..." Mocking nod.
"My dear Marie will alert you if she can...She's traveling with us, you know. And your own little minion can surely follow us, discreetly."
"I might be able to send her...I doubt the Slayer would let Miss De Russell run back to warn me." Olive frowned.
Still, he has a point…
But… "Wouldn't it be wiser to just have Marie with them and my little one following them? The Slayer's more likely to reveal anything without you present, even if you are her husband's bosom companion these days."
"He is a fine fellow, Potter. I hope we manage to transform him, along with her. I do so enjoy the company of a learned and curious man...Such is difficult to find in Transylvania these days, at least in our mountain wilds..."
"I can imagine...I hope you have a loving and long relationship..." dryly. "But the Slayer might have something to say about that, you know."
"I think her views will change with transformation..." Vladimir noted. "I hope to find us all friends, even family of a sort in the Afterlife."
Olive, snorting at first...You have a rather ridiculously high opinion of the fraternity of the Undead, Vladimir...Then a bit apprehensive… "Wait...You're not planning..." narrow look.
"Of course not right now, she must be human still, if the Slayer, to open the Hellmouth..." he eyed her.
"But you don't want the Mouth opened..." Olive frowned up at him, suspiciously.
"But Nast does...And he will find another Slayer if this one is taken away...I want him to believe this one will serve, to the last possible moment..."
"At which point?" she smiled coldly.
"At which point, you must make your decision, dear Olive..." he eyed her calmly.
…
"According to this, we take the Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy, west across to the Mississippi..." Potter noted to Elisabeth as they sat, once again in their own berth… "Then the Burlington and Missouri takes us to the Missouri River at some place called 'Council Bluff or Bluffs'...Oddest names you have here...In the State of Iowa." he eyed Elisabeth…
"Don't ya look at me, I didn't name 'em."
"Then we cross the Missouri by boat and board the Union Pacific...Which hasn't quite reached completion and currently has passengers ride to a point in...U...tah?"
"The Mormons...Lots of wives." Elisabeth eyed him. "Sign up there and you can have yerself a harem."
"Then wagon to the Central Pacific Railroad at Lake Crossing, Nevada...And on to Sacro...Sacramento, California...Or wagon or carriage to some place called 'Salt Lake' and ride straight to Los Angeles, California by stagecoach, which is considerably cheaper."
"We oughta go direct to Los Angeles..." Elisabeth noted.
"Because the Helldoorway…?"
"Hellmouth..." she sighed. "Yeah, it's near there, a few miles. I don't know the exact spot..." she eyed him.
"But the Book has it? I've read it carefully and I think I'm understanding most of the ornate language now but apart from mentioning this portalway to Hell...Hell?" he eyed her shrug…
"...There are no specific directions, just a vague and quite crude map..." he lifted the several railroad schedules and notices from the open Book and tapped the two pages open, showing the said crude map which vaguely showed what appeared to be a coast and interior area, which might with some imagination be that of Southern California…
"It's more than that, Peter." Elisabeth sighed. "When we're there, you'll see." she eyed him. "If you still want to..."
"I want to...Beth, I've said I'll see this odd affair through..."
"You could go on to San Francisco..." she noted. "Your pal's there...You could get set up and then, when all this is settled..."
"And you're what? Dead? Or, what is it? Undead? You'll come look me up?"
"I won't be that..." she insisted.
"Then just dead..."
"Thanks for the confidence, Pete." she glared.
"You need me to translate the Book...And someone to watch your back..."
She frowned… "I've never needed..."
"You've always had a Watcher..." he insisted. "Willie...Sorry...May not have been a great help in fighting your enemies physically but you and your mother needed him. You need me, now."
"You're not trained. You don't have any skills, sorry, beyond being able to read the Book a little and yank teeth..." she eyed him. "Not meanin' to sell ya short, Pete but you're more likely ta be a burden not a help."
"You forgot I write passable poetry...And I'm rather good in bed." he noted, faint smile which she returned.
"All those have to count for something..." he noted.
"Ya...They do." she nodded, wanly. "And I don't wanna lose them now, damned fool that I am."
"I'm still also a fine clay pigeon...Or a lightning rod, which metaphor I much prefer, dear."
"Clay pigeons get shattered...Lightning rods get struck." she frowned. "How I'm gonna be kept in da style I wanna be accustomed ta if you croke before you can make a pile in gold teeth and such?" faint smile.
"Lightning rods get struck but the charge passes through to the ground..." he noted. "Beth, I want to do this. I couldn't bear it if you went alone and...Didn't meet me in San Francisco. I'm rather the jealous type, too, you should know."
"Pete..."
"And I was the one who spotted out Count de la Cule's interest in the Book..."
"So you did...But I had my eye on him and his secretary since we met. Something about him and that Miss Giles don't add up. No one remembers seeing them on the train till they showed and he saw Willie..." pause…
"I don't say they're...They don't show it, far as I can tell. But there's ways to cover and we've not had a lotta chance to see them in daylight."
"Which is why I invited the Count to travel with us today."
"And he's gone and accepted your invite..." she nodded. "Which is either pretty damn ballsy, pardon me French...Or he's human and has another game...He still could be Nast's guy. She could be."
"They're from Europe...She's English. Is there any chance…? Your Council?"
"They've have chances to say so…" she shrugged. "He coulda set her up with me in his room when she took sick...And they can get sick, for a short bit, so I've been told. I doubt they're Council...And if they were, Willie would still be alive, I'd say."
"He didn't 'set her up' in your room..." Peter noted. "While you were ill, she could've killed you."
"I doubt it...Though it woulda be an interestin' fight with us both pukin' and dizzy as all hell..." she grinned a bit. "Sorry...Promise I'll mind it if I ever meet the family. I'll be as propa as the Queen herself."
"I hear Victoria was actually rather randy with Albert..." he smiled. "Though widowhood has curbed her spirits there a bit, poor thing."
"Nice to have an expert on things handy..." she grinned. "But if she is...What she could be...Or just a human agent, she'd likely not wanna kill me. Only I can open the Hellmouth, so the Council told me. And only while still human and the Slayer."
"Told you...Via Willie?"
"And others...There's an American branch in Boston and other places...Including, by the way, Los Angeles, though I get that it's a small bunch there."
He frowned… "If they have people there...On scene…?"
"They can't deal without me, Pete. I'm the Slayer, they're Watchers. That's the way it is...Lincoln had a good cabinet with Seward and all but they had to have him to pull it together and win the war. These guys need me. Humanity needs me." she eyed him firmly.
"I need you." he noted.
"And thank the Powers That Be, damn em...Now I need you." she sighed. "But I need ya alive, Pete. And the odds ain't good for mortals without powers or trainin'."
"Then...Train me..." he eyed her.
"I'm no scholar type, Pete...I don't even know magic tricks. The Slayer came to me, not me learnin' it...Though I've learned to use it since."
"Not as a Watcher, I'm learning that on the job..." he smiled. "As a Slayer...Or at least a human who has a fair chance of Slaying one or two. I've got some of the basics down from the Book...Show me the practical application..."
She eyed him…
"We've two days before the next train will be able to leave...Show me here." he insisted.
"If the Count's...Or the gal's...One of t hem, I can't kill em yet." she noted carefully. "Else I woulda gone after them and gotten the dope out of em as to human or no, after Willie."
"So I guessed." he nodded. "They need you alive and you need them, to find out their plans and find where the leader, this Nast you told me about, is."
"That's the long and short, yeah..." she agreed. "Unless they move in for a kill...And I doubt they will, after all this…I can't go after them just yet."
"But there are other vampires and demons in Chicago...And killing them is your Duty." he smiled at her.
Hmmn...Point there...She noted.
But take him...Him? On a hunt? Here ina city I don't know?
Great way to get to wear black…
But...Also...Not a bad way to lose him...If I can do it safely...Leave him somewheres safe.
And then, God willin'...Maybe, just maybe...I could have a better ending than most of my sisters...A little happiness after the big job's done.
"I'll think it over...I will, Pete." she told him, firm stare to his stern look. "Now, since you set up this jaunt we'd best get dressed and meet up with your new best bud."
"All right..." sigh. "But give it serious consideration, Beth. So, would he go up in flames or turn to ashes and dust...If he should be one of them?"
"I'm not the cruel sort, Pete." she shrugged. "I see him going up, I'd stake him. So, dust."