Chapter Eight

"So, who was that dashing friend you had over?"

"I'm sorry?" William looked up from his soup to his sister; at the moment she was sitting across from him, nibbling on a roll.

"That handsome man you had over in the library today. Who is he?" Regina looked positively curious.

"Oh…" he replied after a spoonful, then dabbing his mouth. "Darian Clarke, Blackwood's nephew from the Americas."

"Must be Margret's son then," his mother offered at the head of the table. Her smile was soft. "Lovely girl. She married that merchant and moved across the ocean. Was simply smitten almost immediately with him." And then she frowned. "Can't be easy for him to adjust. Is he here for a visit, William?"

"As I understand it, Blackwood is preparing him to take over the title in case something should happen to him."

"Oh, but he's so young!" she said at once, hand flying to her cheek. And then she was quiet before saying next, "Though… I suppose it does make sense. I don't think Christopher has any brothers or uncles. I believe he was an only child…" She looked to be thinking, touching her chin as her soft eyes narrowed. Her brow creased, emphasizing the age lines. "He's American, so yes it would. Even with Margret's influence he still would need to be here.

"That country is wholly different from our own."

"What's he like?" Regina asked again, almost grinning.

"If you were so curious, why didn't you just come say hello instead of spying, hm?"

"Because she's shy," Lilith announced as she came into the room. "Boy's finally fed and put to sleep. I'm sorry I'm late mother." She was a whirl of dark blue satin as she came around and gave the aforementioned woman a kiss on her cheek before sitting down right next to her.

Anne was laughing. "Oh, that's alright. You've grown accustomed to handling him yourself."

"Indeed," she agreed. "Scotland doesn't seem to mind mothers of rank raising their own children." She nodded a thank you to the maid once her own bowl of soup was placed in front of her. "So, Regina's taken interest in a man, is that what I'm to understand here?"

William watched as his youngest sister blushed, though smiled. "He appears interesting enough. He's nice to our William. That's something.

"I don't think I could stand any fiancé of mine bullying my dear brother." She frowned, hand clenching around her spoon.

He sighed then. "That shouldn't stop you from gaining a good alliance—."

"Nonsense!" Regina said a little louder than considered ladylike, looking put off—upset. "I refuse to marry someone who thinks you're… well, I refuse. That's all there is to it."

Lilith chuckled. "Better stop arguing with her brother; before long she'll be slipping out a curse, hm? And then mother will say something…" she let it hang on the air playfully.

"You will introduce us, won't you, Will?" Regina asked, changing gears quickly. "At the Greenwich's this Friday night?"

"..I suppose. If he's there…"

"Everyone will be there! Surely he will. I'll make sure that Fiona has her mother send him and invitation if she hasn't already."

William sighed. "Very well. I'll introduce you."

"Perfect." She beamed. "Now, what's he like?"

The brunette had to take pause for a moment to think the answer over. "He appears to like poetry well enough. Short, though. Probably just your height."

"I noticed." She was still grinning.

He chuckled, recalling how she said she wanted to marry someone her own height or close to it. Didn't want to get a kink in her neck for ah… "Well spoken," he went on rather quickly, "though he's trying to curb the slang. Sometimes it's a little hard to understand him now and then. He dresses well, or so it seems."

"Anything else?"

"Charming?" he hazarded a reply. "He's very humorous. And comfortable to be around."

"Sounds like a decent young man," his mother put in. "Comes from a good family as well. You couldn't do much better, dear."

"I would imagine so…" he replied, trailing off, wondering just what that odd coiling in his gut was. Was he getting sick? He shook it off. "I'll be out Saturday night."

"Oh?" Lilith asked.

"Going to the theater with Dare."

"Is that what you call him?" This from Regina.

"He insisted."

"This man becomes more fascinating by the minute," Lilith added after a spoonful. "A good friend, yes?"

"It would seem so," he agreed.

#

"I'm not sure I'm ready for this…"

"You'll need to know how, best if you learn today. At least most of it," a male voice called out.

"But… everything is all stiff and wonky."

"It's not that difficult, once you get a proper feel for it."

"I've just never done it this way with another woman before."

At that moment Isabella chuckled as she met her eyes. "You're making it out to be more than it is, My Lord. Truly.

"It's only a waltz."

Buffy pouted, trying to adjust the way she held her maid in her arms. "It feels weird. I don't even know how to lead."

"And you're going to learn. Lucky for you, Isabella spent much of her life being dance partner to many a young lad," this from Kit who was a good ten feet from this in the small, but open room.

Buffy sighed but nodded and tried to slowly work through the dance at hand. She had to stop now and then, nearly stepping on the girl's feet more than once. "Sorry," she whispered.

"You've got to quit looking down, Buffy. My eyes are up here." She caught her gaze. "A woman wooed likes it when you look her in the eyes—confidently."

The blonde frowned. "I'm not trying to woo anyone."

She laughed. "Yes, but they can't know that. And even if you aren't, they won't care. Proper woman can be wholly improper."

Buffy groaned at that, but managed not to step on her feet again as they moved into a turn.

"Just be sure not to dance this dance with any woman twice… not unless you want to marry her."

"I'll keep that in mind. I don't exactly have the right parts"

Again, all the girl could do was laugh.

"When all of this is done Spike better be bloody grateful. Somehow exams seemed harder than this stuff." She tried to keep her gaze upward and away from their feet, not that see could actually see anyone's feet with Isabella's skirt mostly in the way.

"School?"

"College… University, I guess if what you'd call it."

"You attend university? A woman?"

Buffy shrugged as they moved into another turn. She was getting it… slowly. It was still boring though. "Attended... past tense. Didn't pan out well. I guess I'm only meant for killing bad guys."

"Slang!" she heard Kit say.

"I know!" she shouted back from across the room in a huff.

Again, her dance partner laughed.

"What is it like in your time?"

How to answer a question like that… "Well, we wear a lot less where I live… when I live. No gloves or hats really. Not unless it's really cold or were doing yard work. Women can be doctors… go to university… stuff like that.

"Oh, and we can go wherever we want without an 'escort'."

"Sounds delightful. I can't imagine why Spike would want to come back to this."

"I don't think he planned on it," Buffy replied with a frown. "I'm not sure what he was after really… aside from a soul."

"Most unusual for a Vampire… getting a soul." She frowned back. "Though, I can imagine he's not your average Vampire if he was working for a Slayer. There's got to be a story in that."

"A big one," she agreed, but not one she was ready to talk about yet.

"I wasn't insinuating you tell me, Buffy." She smiled as they moved, as if knowing her thoughts. "But, you talk about him in an affectionate way. I can only think you care about him, if nothing else."

She swallowed.

Isabella also seemed to sense the discomfort in what her words brought about. She cleared her throat. "Well, you're doing great, aren't you? Haven't stepped on my feet in at least five minutes."

This time Buffy laughed.

Kit clapped his hands a few times for them to stop and crossed the way towards them. "I think that's enough for today. We'll work on a few more tomorrow. By Friday night you'll be more than ready for dinner and dancing. At least enough to get through the night."

Buffy sighed and placed her hands on her hips. "I really don't plan on dancing with anyone, honestly."

Kit nodded. "Yes, but just in case, it's best to be prepared."

"I suppose." She looked up at him. "Break time?"

"Yes. Do you want me to have some tea and sandwiches brought to the drawing room?"

Buffy shook her head. "No, I thinking of taking a nap. I'm honestly not used to being up so early."

Kit nodded. "That's mostly me trying to get you ready. Once things really pick up you'll be expected to sleep in. Parties can go on well into the night."

"Wonderful. More boring parties."

He gave her a crooked smile as she waved and left the room. It was only a moment later that she felt Isabella just behind her, likely to help her undress for bed.

"I do hope we're not invited to a house party," she told Buffy.

"House party?" she asked as they went down to hall and towards the stairs.

She nodded. "It's when a host invites several families out to a country home and they spent a week or so doing events and spending time together. Country homes are much larger and have far more rooms. So, they can accommodate more people."

"Why would this be a bad thing…?"

"I would have to be a man too. A proper valet."

Buffy blinked.

"It wouldn't be right for a woman, a maid, to be in service to dressing a man, Buffy."

"I'm sorry, you lost me at 'have to be a man too'. Don't you mean… dress like one?"

"No. I meant be. Didn't Kit tell you why I selected for position as your maid?"

"…no."

"I'm a Verkos demon—a shapeshifter," she explained. "Well… this is the form I identify with… me, but I can change at will.

"Still, I'm not sure how well we would do at a house party. I do hope we aren't expected to go to one."

Buffy was still reeling with the new knowledge of her maid. "Yes, let's hope."

And then she giggled. "Although, you know most scandals come from them. Last year at one of Lord and Lady Wilcox's several couples were quit suspect, especially after the three marriages in the same year after the event."

"What's so strange about that?"

"The party was in October! Most marriages take several months, if not an entire year to prepare. Any sooner and special licenses for marriage have to be obtained."

"You're making my head swim with all this info, Bell. Between you and Kit I'm going to overload with it all." She rubbed her head as they climbed upward.

"I could draw you a bath if you like."

"That sounds awesome."

When they made it to her room Bella slipped in first and darted into her personal washroom. "I'll be back in a moment if you need help undressing."

Buffy shrugged. "I think I'm good on that part. It's the dressing I generally have trouble with…" She reached up, pulling off the neck cloth from its many wrappings around her neck. It dropped on the small cushioned bench where she sat. Next came her vest and the manly double breasted buttons with it.

"And woman think they have it bad in corsets," she muttered as she pulled the shirt off and glared sown at the chest binding. Breathing wasn't impossible, but a big pain.

"Here, let me help you with that," Isabella said as she came in behind her, leaning so she could untie the wrapping.

Buffy winced when he pulled a little too hard. "I kinda wish I could just change like you. No need for wraps."

"That would be fun, hm?" the woman agreed. "But, then you wouldn't be The Slayer."

"In some ways my life might be easier."

"How so?"

Buffy smiled ruefully. "No fighting the evil undead… no risking my life at every turn… no traveling back in time because some idiot vamp decided it'd be fun.

"I could be…"

"Normal?"

"Yeah," she exhaled the response as the bindings loosened and began to fall away.

Isabella stepped back and looked down at her as she watched Buffy move to pull off her shoes and socks, wrapping placed on top of her neck cloth.

"Do you have family, Buffy? Brothers? Sisters?"

"A sister," she answered with a grunt, allowing a boot to drop to the floor.

"I have three brothers and a younger sister."

"Sounds like a handful."

She nodded. "My sister is the apple of the family. Everyone loves her. When she very young she would wear the most pretty dresses my mother made for her. Nothing she could really wear out… not with our station in life here. Not unless we went to see family… you know."

Buffy nodded, sort of paying attention as the other shoes came off.

"Unlike many other shapeshifters she tended to stay in the form she was in—a young girl. Beautiful." She reached down and picked the shoes up off the floor as Buffy went to work on her pants and socks. She turned towards the closet to put them away. "I think she loved all the attention that came with it. She felt like she was making everyone happy."

"Unlike others?"

"Well," she explained, "Shapeshifters, as they grow, have a hard time keeping one form and change a lot until they reach maturity around thirteen or sixteen, as you would say. Then they choose their main form—the one they most identify with.

"We all thought she'd keep on being the beautiful girl."

Buffy laughed. "What, she decided to be a boy?"

"It's not really a matter of choice… it's kind of what works for that person—who they are. Their body accepts it long before their heart does." The closet door was shut quietly, slowly. "But, yes, at about sixteen she became a he." There was a sad smile her voice. "Nobody was really sad about, but a lot of people were surprised because she'd held the form of a girl for so long. We all assumed she'd just stay that way." Isabella turned to look at her, meeting her eyes.

"I supposed what I'm trying to tell you is… there is no such thing as normal in the world, accept to your own true self. You're normal only onto you, Buffy—no one else. It doesn't really matter what the rest of the world perceives to be normal or right." She smiled a little softer.

"You see, it wasn't until my brother truly accepted who he was that he was happy.

"Embracing one's identity is half the battle. The other half is realizing that by being yourself… happy… you unconsciously give others the permission to be the same."

Buffy was very quiet for a while as she held the woman's gaze, not entirely sure what to say. In a lot of ways Bella reminded her a lot of Tara—always seeing what everyone else ignored or chose not to see at all. She was used to it from her late witch friend… but, from Bella it was a little disconcerting. She'd grown accustomed to being in her own head lately, and wasn't sure how she felt about another person occupying—reading—her own inner turmoil, even if it had almost zero to do with one bleach blond.

At best, she offered her a wary smiled and nodded. "I'll see you in an hour so. Thank you for helping me."

"I'll be here to help whenever you need me, Buffy. Sleep well." And then she bobbed a curtsy, seeming the not least put off by her response, and left, door clicking soundlessly behind her.

The double meaning was not lost on her: even if you don't like what I have to say.

She sighed, got up, and flounced onto the mattress.

It wouldn't be the first time she heard something she didn't want to hear. Though, usually when that happened it involved others expecting something of herself she wasn't sure she had, or, wanted to give. Bella had nothing to expect from her, and perhaps that was the point of what she was saying… wasn't it?

And then that made her think of Spike, who had always loved every essence of her, every side, every corner and crevice—Slayer and not.

Maybe that was the crux of it; she'd just never really had time to properly think on it. But, now she did. Right now, she didn't have to worry about slaying demons, saving the world, or anything Slayer-super-related—aside from Spike going back home. And well… that could take some time; time that could require thinking. Something she had hardly ever taken the… well… time to really do.

When she really thought about her life… really thought… it always boiled down to others expectations. And in her own time she didn't even have the excuse of being incognito and playing part. But, wasn't that exactly what she was doing? For what? Because she was afraid everyone would hate her? That she would disappoint them? That she was somehow deviating from a view that didn't fit with who everyone wanted her to be?

She recalled when she'd first come to Sunnydale, how she'd watched Cordy treat Willow… how Cordy had been treated after her breakup with Xander by the bitch squad, she remembered how she'd felt when everyone found out about Angel coming back, how Xander had treated her…

And then there was the ramifications of all that was Dark Willow… her resurrection.

She couldn't quite help the way her eyes closed to fight the oncoming ache, the burn in her chest, so much…

She exhaled, letting it wash over her… trying to deal with it in a way she never had before. And was the hard part. Because pain and Buffy always went hand in hand, but she never really came out the winner. And in the end, the one person who'd tried to help her through it had suffered so much through it that… that she couldn't even will herself to put him through it again—hurricane Buffy.

But, she was deviating… wasn't she?

Everyone always wanted the best for her… Well, if best were to be defined as what they wanted then Anya and Tara would be wholly excluded. Anya didn't seem to care what she did one way or the other and Tara was always… Tara. Xander never seemed happy with her, not really; not unless she was beating Spike or any other beastie to a pulp or making him cookies. Willow… Willow was just self-conscious and in her own way pushed her fears onto others in a way that could do some serious harm. Giles was always a father figure, so there wasn't much to argue there. But, she could recall the moments in her past where everyone had a say and he remained silent, listening, hardly offering much unless he had to break up a fight. The only time he'd ever really been vocal about her and 'boys' was after Angel's transgressions as Angelus… and who could really blame him there?

Buffy sighed again. Her brain hurt, but she needed to get through this while it was fresh, open, and on fire.

Everyone had made mistakes… so the real question was…

Why was she only one who really had to answer so severely for them?

Who was she really hurting by…

…Being Buffy?

In the end, she could only conclude one thing brought on by Isabella's story. For a long time, the only person she'd been really hurting by being anyone but Buffy.

Was Buffy.

AN :: I completely forgot to write an apologetic AN last time. Sorry about that and the delay. But, you really don't need to hear my excuses about school, graduating with my AA, or anything else. At any rate, I love you for reviewing, faving, lurking, and …stuff.

I'm still working out the entire direction for this story, but I do have a very broad idea because I realized with how much I've been rewatching Buffy and reading on the site itself… that there's some justice I want to do with this fic. And you can kinda see that here at the end in Buffy's introspection at the end.

Also, I'm not going to explain myself because I want you to come to your own conclusion in reading it. I believe it's not a writer's duty to explain, but to show though images and action. Show, don't tell, my old literature professor told me.

Thank for reading

—Blade

P.S. I do want to warn you though, there won't be much action insofar as one is use to in the series in this story. It's mostly going to be a drama. So, yeah, just wanted you to know that.