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Chapter Nine

People were a flurry of evening colors. Most men were in blacks with colorful vests and bright colored lining in their suit jackets. Some lines were simple, others more complicated. There were also browns—tweeds, bow ties, something Kit referred to as an ascot, and more still in cravats. Ladies were an array of silk and satin, adorned in bows, ruffles, and little flowers. She didn't even want to imagine the cost of all the layers and jewels. For (probably) the hundredth time since Buffy had arrived in Victorian England she was finding herself thankful not to be her own true gender. Hell, the hair alone probably took an hour to style; it's not like plug in the wall curling irons were around.

I'm so happy I was born in the 1980s.

"Enjoying yourself?" Kit asked next to her as he sipped wine from a stemmed glass.

Buffy snorted softly in some vain attempt to appear proper. "If you call watching a bunch of people wander around and mingle and act snotty to one another 'fun' then sure.

"This stuff always seemed more interesting in books." She crossed her arms over her chest and tried not to lean back into the wall in the glowing room as she waited for the evening meal to be called. It was rather large, so it was hard for her to tell if Spike and his family had even arrived yet.

On an off note, it wasn't all that odd to find herself thinking about that first Halloween with Willow and Xander again. In the sea of silk and ebony suits it was all she could do not to recall her dive into the past. In a way, she'd glossed over why she hadn't wanted to play the belle of the ball; it wasn't simply because she'd read her fair share of romance novels, it was because, like Xander, there was quite a bit she could recall. Granted, what she'd worn was more for 1700s France, but, the theme for women was the same even if all the rules weren't. And in truth, her attempt to 'please' Angel had done nothing but land her in a sea of hurt. Trying to imagine how she would act if she had to play that part and not merely be forced into by god-magic only irritated her.

Give her pants, pants any day over layers of skirt and petty coat.

Hell, thank the PTB Spike hadn't been alive during the Roman era. There'd be no way in hell to make her legs look many in one of those soldier skirt… things. Or flatten her boobs in robes. And as much as those people got naked, yeah, forget it. She tried to imagine Spike in white Cesar robes looking all regal and it was all she could do not to laugh.

"Something funny?" Kit asked.

Buffy's smile was crooked as she glanced over at him. "Just living in my own head. Like usual."

"This is going to be an odd dinner."

"Oh?"

"Indeed. Generally you'll have one or two long tables and seating will go according to rank. However, Lady Greenwich is a bit of a… I'm not sure there's a word for it."

"She likes to change things up?"

"I suppose that's one way of putting it, yes," he agreed, taking another sip. "She's taken the liberty of procuring a number of round tables and plans on having dinner, dancing, and a play occur all in the same room. During the interludes the dinner there will be some form of entertainment, then after dinner dancing, but the tables will surround the dance floor—thus, allowing people to continue to sit and enjoy themselves. Then, the play, and during each scene change more dancing."

Buffy blinked. "That is a lot."

"She's a woman known for her flair. I believe a number of people would be shocked if the whole affair didn't appeal so much." His eyes were roving over the room. "It allows for a little of everything and accomplishes one very large goal."

"That would be?"

"Keeping all of her guests happy and busy in one room," he said with a smirk. "It's much easier to manage a crowd of this level if they're all in one place enjoying themselves."

Buffy wasn't so sure about that, but she'd wait to see. "On another topic… any luck with that research?" She reached for a glass of something as a servant passed by. It has been several days since their initial discussion at breakfast… brunch… whatever.

"Yes and no. There's very little information on your Dijinn. Mostly, that they're horribly rare, almost extinct, and the children of gods."

"Awesome," she muttered. "Just what I need. Another godish creature to deal with. Why couldn't it just be a run of the mill demon? Hell, even a Vengeance Demon. That I could deal with."

Kit frowned, but didn't argue. "At any rate," he went on, "I believe we might have to summon it—specifically the one from your time. And that will require a bit more research. I'm only worried about one thing."

"And that would be?"

"Well… they grant wishes contingent on the passing of trials. You might have to pass some sort of trial to get the information you seek."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"I would imagine not; however, I thought it fair to warn you. Dijinn can be especially devious in how they twist their trails from what little I do know."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

"You should know William with be here tonight with his sister again. Greenwich's daughter is a very good friend of Regina's."

"I have to meet them eventually. Kinda shocked I didn't a few days ago when I was over at his house."

"They might not have been in, or, could have been giving William some privacy."

Buffy shrugged.

"And do stop doing that."

She rolled her eyes. How in the hell shrugging was considered bad behavior she had no idea. "I take it they're not doing the event in this room?"

"No, not at all."

She nodded, still watching the party goers talking, laughing, and doing whatever they were doing. But, naturally, as the hum of the quiet milling went on she began to fold into her own mind… as she had done frequently since coming back from the dead. It was hard not to; even when she'd been with Spike she'd left him in the same room over and over again. All he would do was sit quietly, leaving her to herself as he sipped a whisky on the rocks. Just… letting her be. At times, his crypt became the only place she could be absent and without sound.

Her mind traveled back to 'the before', to the time when things were easier, simpler, when Angel was her everything, even after he came back from the dead; when she still wished that he didn't have to risk losing his soul just to love her; when her biggest worry was if she could juggle slaying the Mayor and passing high school at the same time. It was funny, because then having vampire Willow seemed so… mediocre compared to 'the now'.

She smiled a little as she recalled the night the dragged Vamp-Willow into the cage in the library and she was so wigged by her evil self. What had she said… when the demon takes over the personality is completely different? Yeah, and then Angel…

She stopped thinking, sort of and stilled.

"Is something wrong?"

She looked over at Kit, her thoughts broken, but not gone. "No… I…"

He looked concerned, so willing to help her however she needed… so much like pre-Angelus Giles. "…Can I ask you something? Like, privately?"

He stilled himself and then looked around. "Well… we should be able to… I…" He looked around the room and began to walk away.

Buffy blinked and followed sharply behind him, drink still in her hand.

He suddenly came to a man at the door about her height and began to murmur something. A moment later the short man in servant's digs gave a nod and motioned for them to follow. They walked across the hall to a set of double doors that faced the ones in the room they'd been previously in.

"The purple room. Lady Greenwich uses it for writing and reading, but she won't mind if you have a private talk. Should I let you know when the event begins?"

"Please, and thank you, Marcus."

He nodded and again and shut the door behind them.

There was a soft glow of candles in the purple room, as he'd called it; which, aside from being close, was likely why he'd suggested they use this one. They weren't all lit, but just enough to give the dark room an eerie ominous glow. "You know him?" she asked as she stepped towards a table and set down her drink.

"He works for the council, but just as eyes and ears for what's going on around the city—one of them, at any rate. You've nothing to worry about though," he went on after her wary look. "They're usually just concerned with attacks and the demon population.

"Now, what did you want to ask about?"

She took that moment to lean into the edge of the table and cross her arms over her chest. "Years ago in my time one of my friends—Willow—performed a spell for a girl. Her name was Anya. She was once a Vengeance demon, but that's not really important. Anyway, the spell cast brought an alternate dimension version of Willow to our world—A vampire one." She could see his head was already spinning with questions, but unlike her Giles he waited for her to finish fully. "Well, anyway, we were putting her in a cage until we figured out what to do with her… like send her back to her dimension… And Willow was wigged, uh, upset? Not angry, but, she said she was so different. Like, a whore in your time, is how I'd put it. So, I told her not to freak out so much, that a vampire's personality is not the same once it becomes a vampire. And Angel started to say, 'Well, actually…' and then stopped and we went about our way.

"But, it got me thinking about how different Spike is from Angel without a soul. Angelus is… well, you know."

Kit nodded. "Only from reading… but, yes. Thankfully, I've never encountered him and I hope to never be in his presence."

"You don't want to be," she agreed looking down slightly. "But, Spike was never like Angelus. And Angel was like black white with a soul. Whereas Spike just felt guilty about everything he did, more or less. He was still the same person—er, vampire—so to speak. And the more I see of him now… Which, isn't a lot. But, he's not Spike, but it's like Spike is a…"

"More confident version of himself?"

"Yes, exactly," she exhaled the word as if it were a light bulb over her head as he met his gaze.

"So, what's your question?"

"Why is Spike so different from Angel? Are all vampires like that? Do they have a choice to be a better person? Or does a demon really take over?

"Have I been lied to, Kit? Honestly?"

Then came the long silence, the quiet, as someone nearly her own age, but also a Watcher, thought her words over carefully. His fingers were on his lips, his brow was wrinkled, and his eyes were pulled towards the floor. In a way, he looked much older than he was.

"Do you want an honest answer?"

"Yes."

"Truly?"

It was her turn to stop and think. She felt like Neo in the Matrix. Take the blue pill or the red pill? But, it was stupid to think that; of course she wanted the red pill. She was tired of being in the dark on this whole mess. And she'd already concluded she wanted her life to be her own; not some hero for her friends—or rather, just the hero. She didn't need to be placed on a pedestal and forced there. She was allowed to be… human. To make mistakes and messy choices. They all did; she could as well.

"I want the red pill," she said suddenly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Uh… yeah, nevermind… Yes, I want to know. Really. Whatever it is, I think I'm ready for honesty."

Kit sighed and dug his hands into his pockets. In the glow of the dim room he looked somehow more serious. Like someone telling a grave horrible story over a camp fire setting on Halloween to freak out little kids and teenagers.

"Angel is Angelus," he began. "The soul makes him a better person because it… well, perhaps it would be better to explain it another way," he said with some backpedaling when her face grew slightly confused. "Do you know who Angel was before he became a vampire?"

"Sorta," she said as she shifted her position a little and let her hands fall to the table to give her leverage. "I know he said he was a waste of a person. But, not much else."

"I've read quite a bit since Whistler warned me of you coming to this time."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"The diaries don't cover it extensively, but Angel was unsavory. He whored himself about, got drunk regularly, and stole from his parents. In fact, when he was on his way to greet Darla he was looking for… excuse my crude tongue… a quick roll of it in the hay."

"Ah… ok… and that all means?"

"Angel wasn't a terrible person, but he wasn't a good person either. Whatever exists in a person already becomes much more when they become a vampire, Buffy. Sometimes that can be twisted into something worse even if it is good.

"I assume this Willow was... what something of a wallflower? Unsure of herself? But, very strong minded even she didn't always voice it?"

Buffy nodded.

"Becoming a Vampire for her mean becoming everything perhaps she wants to be but is too afraid to be. The same can be said of a conscious. It keeps a person from doing unspeakable things. That's why when someone is already a horrible person as a human they can become terrifying as a Vampire."

"You're saying Angel was a horrible person?"

Kit shook his head. "No, but the possibility to be horrible without restriction was there."

"I'm kinda shocked that makes sense to me, but it does. So… you're saying Spike…"

"He's a bit of a love-sick dog isn't he? William?"

Buffy's eyes shot to his and she wondered how much Whistler had told him and he just wasn't saying. "…Yeah, he is."

Kit nodded. "I imagine that sense of devotion is worse as a Vampire, blinding him against everything else and perhaps pushing him to unspeakable acts."

And when he fell in love with me… Buffy closed her eyes. She remembered him with Dru, his sense of devotion and everything he did to make it better for her. Horrible acts justified by everything he could do to save her. And even when she didn't love him, cheated on him, he came right back…. Forgiving her. Because that was what was amplified when he became a Vampire.

Love.

"So… vampires have the capacity to be good people?"

"Yes, it's just impossibly hard for them to do so. Which is why the council doesn't even bother telling Slayers this. It's too risky to wonder if the next one you slay is going to save the world or burn it to ashes. One slip and we're waiting around for another girl, sometimes ten or fifteen years."

Buffy swallowed and her eyes narrowed. "Thank you for telling me."

It was then a knock sounded at the door and servant's head poked in, telling them both the event was to start. But, Buffy was blinded to it all, her head swimming with information.

AN :: I had considered going on with this chapter, but it felt like a good place to stop. The next chapter will cover the ball and perhaps some funnies with Regina's perusal of Dare. Because why? I'm a twisted bastard and Buffy just isn't Buffy without the funny. Yeah for rhymes! Hope you enjoyed it; love you all.

—Blade