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1860
“Where were you all day?” Alyssa asked, eyeing her Watcher as he took off
his coat and hung it up. “Emily called and you missed her.”
“Did she?” Stephan asked. “I thought I told you not to have contact with any of the ton.” Alyssa made a face.
“You can’t mean Emily. She knows everything anyway, and she’s going to help. I gave her the directions on the invitation and she promised to help find out when and where it is. She’s very good at that, you know. Oh, do stop glaring Stephan. I know you’re good at it too, but it can’t hurt to have two people try, as I’m certainly no help when it comes to books,” Alyssa pointed out.
“That’s a certainty if I ever heard one,” he muttered, walking past her into the next room. Alyssa turned and followed.
“I heard that,” she said. “And you’re not supposed to agree with me! Even if it was true. A gentleman would have protested heartily and told me that I was a help at whatever I tried.”
“And whom, might I ask, is a gentleman in your opinion? Right off I can’t think of a single gentleman you are acquainted with well enough to know what they would or would not say in such an instance,” Stephan pointed out.
Alyssa stuck her tongue out at his back, then assumed a proper pose as he turned around.
“Andrew Lord would have done just as I said and he is a gentleman,” Alyssa said decidedly.
“Andrew Lord is a raging bundle of—oh, what are those chemicals called?” Stephan murmured.
“Hormones,” Alyssa supplied. He gave her an odd look and she quickly explained. “Being around you and Emily so much has many unforeseen advantages. Or downfalls, depending what view you’re looking from. About not knowing any gentlemen though . . . I would know plenty if you allowed me to come out. I would know hundreds! I might even marry one.”
“Are you so eager to get married?” Stephan asked in a rather strange tone, turning away again. Alyssa watched as he scanned the bookcase and drew out a large tome entitled “Vampyr.” She sighed, no longer interested and turned her mind back to his question.
“Of course not. Well, not really that is. It’s not that I don’t enjoy living with you as your ward, but it would be very nice not to have to ask your permission about every little thing. Besides . . . I believe there are some advantages to married life which I certainly do not get here,” Alyssa said, flushing a little, but trying to maintain her calm demeanor.
“Advantages,” Stephan said, sounding almost strangled.
“Advantages,” Alyssa repeated firmly. “Are you quite all right Stephan?” His back was still to her, so she couldn’t see his face but he sounded very strange indeed.
“I will be in a moment, and thank you for inquiring,” Stephan replied. “Indeed, there are ‘advantages’ as you so well put it. And you bloody well do not get them here. I am your guardian after all, Alyssa.” Alyssa sat down in her favorite armchair, smiling mischievously.
“And a whole eight years older than I!” she pointed out.
“Eight years is not that much older,” Stephan said in an extremely annoyed tone. Her smile broadened as she knew she had gotten to him. Her Watcher was very hard to really irritate, but Alyssa did her best.
“Of course not,” she said equably, “but I would certainly never want to marry an old man!”
“Are you implying . . . ?” he asked, trailing off.
“Whatever do you mean?” Alyssa asked innocently. She could almost hear the growl he hardly suppressed. Abruptly, she changed the subject. “Stephan, you never told me where you were all day.”
“I was out investigating Angelus and William’s ‘party,’ ” Stephan said.
“Did you find anything out?” Alyssa asked, half her attention on the conversation and the other half on one of her nails that had just broken off.
“Nothing specific, just a few more clues. I met Lord Wellington,” Stephan said, sitting down with the book.
“Lord Wellington? The marquees?” Alyssa asked.
“Is there another Lord Wellington?” Stephan asked. She made a face at him, still studying her nail.
“So? What did he say? What did you say for that matter? And why does it matter that you met him at all?” Alyssa asked, hardly listening.
“He was going into Henry Correy’s shop,” Stephan said quietly. That got Alyssa’s attention. Her head snapped up and she stared at him for a moment. Henry Correy was the local vampire informant. He was a double dealer really—he sold the vampires information about when and where to get blood, and he sold the slayer information about the vampires. His shop was bogus—just a cover-up, he didn’t really sell anything. Which meant anyone going into or out of it must be looking for information of vampires, or something of that sort.
“He can’t be a vampire though, because it was daytime,” Alyssa said slowly.
“No, he can’t,” Stephan agreed.
“But he could work for one,” she continued.
“Yes,” Stephan said. “He could.” Alyssa drew in a deep breath and thought about it for a moment. Lord Marcus Wellington was a very well-to-do, respected member of the ton. He was quite rich and had a very large manor, as well as being titled. His late wife had also been an heiress, the daughter of the earl and countess of Nance. That was about all she knew about him. Now, it seemed as if there must be quite a bit more.
“How did his wife die?” Alyssa asked suddenly with a flash of Slayer intuition.
“Mysteriously. All anyone knew was that she died in her sleep, but she was a perfectly healthy, relatively young woman I believe. No one knew very much about it, and there was a tiny funeral—just close family members, I think. Everyone thought it very strange, and Lord Wellington became very strange for a while after it. He missed a Season, and would not have any visitors. And then the next year he came to Town as usual and was his old self again. That was ten or fifteen years ago, I believe,” Stephan said.
“His wife could be the vampire then. Maybe he attends balls and somehow lets her in and she kills somebody when they wander out into the gardens or something,” Alyssa mused.
“Could be,” Stephan said nodding.
“Well I know it could be. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise,” Alyssa told him tartly.
“My apologies.”
“You are forgiven. We shall have to investigate this. But you know, if she is preying on people at balls, it shall be very hard for me to catch her unless I am also at those balls. Which would be difficult unless I come out,” Alyssa pointed out.
“We shall take that as it comes Alyssa. For now, you need to practice your quarter staff fighting. I noticed you were lagging a bit the other day,” Stephan said.
“What? After I killed five vampires? Couldn’t be!” Alyssa said sarcastically, but stood up anyway.
“I want no more commentary from you young lady. Now march,” Stephan said, point to the door. Alyssa made a face, but did as she was told and marched. After all, there were much better things to spend her disobedience quotient on then whether or not to practice with quarter staffs. And spend it she intended to do.
1998
“Hello? Who? Just a moment,” Hank said. He turned to Buffy, who was curled
up on the couch. “It’s for you. A girl named Willow.” Buffy sat up abruptly,
took a deep breath, then nodded and reached for the phone.
“Hello?” she said softly.
“Buffy?” Willow’s voice asked. “It’s so good to hear you! We were so worried! Even after that funny guy came and told us what happened, we didn’t think you’d just leave so we—oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No. It’s all right,” Buffy said. “I shouldn’t have just gone. I’m sorry Will.”
“You shouldn’t be sorry! I mean, I would have done the same thing. I’m sure I would have. I’m so sorry about Angel though. And I’m sure he’s okay, really, wherever he is now. I’m sure he forgives you,” Willow said hurriedly, doing her best to make her friend feel better, even though she wasn’t much good at phone calls.
“I think he does. I got a note from him—Whistler gave it to my mom for me. It said ‘Forgiven’ so I’m hoping. But he trusted me and I betrayed him . . .” Buffy said, her voice beginning to crack like it always did when she talking about it.
“You had to save the world. We’re all standing here today because of what you did. It was the right thing, Buffy,” Willow said firmly. Buffy took a deep breath.
“Thank you Will. How is everything there?”
“All right. No one’s tried anything. None of the vampires, I mean. It’s been pretty quiet. We were all really worried. Cordelia cried,” Willow reported. Buffy smiled slightly.
“My mom told me,” she said, then her smile widened as she heard Cordelia saying something indignant in the background. “Are they all there?”
“Yeah, everyone wants to talk to you, but I got to be first,” Willow said.
“Lucky you, first one to talk to the great Runner From Problems,” Buffy said sarcastically.
“You didn’t run!” Willow exclaimed, the amended her statement, realizing it was false. “At least, not until you’d saved the world. And you didn’t like . . . leave the country or anything. You went somewhere you might be found.”
“I guess,” Buffy said reluctantly. She hadn’t really thought about it. If she had, she probably would have gone to another country.
“Do you want to talk to Giles? He looks extremely agitated,” Willow said.
“All right,” Buffy said, steeling herself. Well, talking to Willow hadn’t been as bad as she had expected. Maybe because they already knew. She didn’t have to tell them. She heard the phone being passed and then Giles’ familiar voice.
“Buffy?” he asked.
“Hey Giles,” she said softly.
“Thank God you’re all right!” he exclaimed.
“Yeah, I guess,” she said. There had been moments when she really didn’t care if she lived or died. They hadn’t been many, but there had definitely been moments.
“Buffy, I-I want you to know that you did the right thing,” Giles said. Buffy swallowed the sudden lump in her throat.
“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” she said softly.
“Well, it’s . . . it’s true. You single-handedly saved the world. You should be proud,” Giles said.
“And here I am feeling guilty because I betrayed the man I loved,” Buffy whispered, the joke on herself this time.
“You did what was right. You had a duty and you fulfilled it. More than fulfilled it.”
“Does that mean I get time off?” Buffy asked.
“I-if you would like,” Giles answered, suprised at her question.
“Well, my parents sort of think I should stay here for a while, and I’m definitely inclined to agree. I could really use a break. Will there be another Slayer, do you know, now that Kendra died?” Buffy asked, her voice breaking again on the last sentence. Kendra and she had had their differences, but the other Slayer had been a good friend anyway.
“I’m not entirely sure. There would be, usually, but since you are still alive . . . Well, I can’t say for certain,” Giles said.
“We’ll probably know pretty soon, right? After the Kendra thing, people should be on the alert about it, right?” Buffy asked.
“I suppose so. But to answer your earlier question, I believe it would be all right for you to take some time off,” Giles said.
“Thanks,” Buffy replied. There was a second when she could hear someone in the background talking, and then Giles spoke again.
“Mr. Harris is . . . impatient to have a word with you, so I will relinquish the phone. I will talk to you later, Buffy,” Giles promised.
“Yeah,” Buffy said. “ ‘Bye.” There was a momentary silence and then Xander started in.
“Buff! Long time no see . . . or speak! Did I just hear the G-man say he was giving you time off? Now that’s got to be a new side of him!” Xander exclaimed.
“Hi Xander,” Buffy said quietly. There was a pause for a second, and when Xander spoke again he was much more subdued.
“How are you Buffy?” he asked.
“Not too good, but I’m holding up,” she answered truthfully. “You?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Well, Cordy almost gave me a heart attack when I saw her mascara actually running, but besides that I’ve been pretty good.” There was a sound on the other end of the phone and Xander exclaimed, “Ow!” She heard Cordelia saying something like “Serves you right!” and then Xander was back on the phone.
“Nobody understand me,” he said, sighing. “I try and joke a little and I get attacked! It’s just not right! Anyway . . . I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried. We were all worried.”
“I’m all right. Not everyone can say the same, thanks to me, but I’m fine,” Buffy said.
“Beg to differ—you saved the world! Everyone can say the same, thanks to you!” Xander exclaimed.
“I wasn’t speaking literally Xand,” Buffy said, sighing.
“Well you sounded literal. I just thought I’d correct you. I was trying to make you feel better. Get you out of that post-sent-my-vampire-boyfriend-to-Hell slump!” Xander said. “Hey, that sounds like a Jerry Springer episode!” Cordelia said something in the background and Buffy heard laughing.
“What did she say?” Buffy asked. There was a pause and then Cordelia answered.
“I told him that we should all go on Jerry Springer just so I could beat his ass on-air!” she exclaimed, then, in a more subdued tone, “How are you Buffy? And yes, I did cry, since everyone seems to be making a point of it, but at no time did my mascara run! It was a malicious lie!” Buffy giggled, covering the phone receiver for a second, then spoke when she had control again.
“I’m not good, but doing better. And I believe you. About the mascara thing. You would never buy mascara that runs,” Buffy said soberly.
“Of course I wou—was that innuendo?” Cordelia asked suspiciously, cutting off in the middle of her sentence.
“Of course not!” Buffy exclaimed.
“Good. I just wanted to make sure. Here, I better give Xander back the phone. He’s getting a little worked up,” Cordelia said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“‘Bye,” Buffy said softly, and then Cordelia was gone. Xander got on again,
vehemently protesting everything Cordelia had said. After she talked to him
for a while Oz got on to say hello, and then Willow got back on, promising
to call again later when her father got another call. Buffy said good-bye
and transferred lines, handing the phone to her father. She had talked to
them. They knew. They forgave her. Which didn’t stop her from dreaming again
that night.