Darla had been her guide for only a month now. Buffy had gone on two trips down memory lane at her request and she hated them with a vengeance. Watching people she loved die again, watching herself at times when she was happiest with things she could no longer have. The memories whether they were good or bad, they needed to stay in her head where they belonged, not in 3D surround sound.
It was these experiences that prompted her to be looking at Darla with such apprehension now after she had told her, “Okay, so we’re going to do something a little different now.” Buffy was about to retort when Darla silenced her before she could begin, “And before you fight me on it understand this is happening whether you like it or not. I also think it’s important to mention that you probably won’t.” Off Buffy’s look of disbelief Darla softened, only slightly, “I’m sorry Buffy but this is how it goes. I don’t fully understand this one. I’ve been told to bring you where you need to go, and I’ve been told how it works. I don’t know the point, but I think you’re supposed to figure out what it is…as far as my understanding goes anyway.”
“Alright well let’s do it then,” Buffy told her, it couldn’t be worse than having to relive everything right?
With a snap of Darla’s fingers Buffy found herself in a room very different than the one she left. It was faded pink, looking distinctly Victorian. It wasn’t until she looked down at what she was wearing that she realized this would be very different.
She was wearing a soft pink and white dress, clearly not a modern one. It pulled her in the middle making it more difficult to breath than usual. She thought it was beautiful, but she didn’t know why she was wearing it. Darla was still standing in front of her and she looked at her confused.
“Just listen to me while I explain this okay? No interruptions”
Buffy reluctantly nodded her agreement.
“Okay so you’re not just going to be watching, you’re going to be participating. Understand that you are going to change things,” Buffy opened her mouth to protest but Darla lifted a hand to silence her, “BUT, it won’t stay that way. Once you leave here it will be like you never came. It will reset and none of this will have happened anywhere but in your memory. I don’t know what will happen here and I’ll only show up when I’m needed, though no one else will be able to see me…understand?”
“Everything but where and when the hell I am?”
“The specifics of tonight you will figure out as you go, just know that you have to change something important in order for this to work.”
“You can’t be less vague?”
“I tell you what I’m instructed to tell you.” Darla explained sternly but with sympathy. “All I can tell you is that the person you’re looking out for is Spike…well William.”
“What?!” Buffy yelled at her not believing what she told her.
“First, don’t yell, you are physically standing here while I am not, anyone comes in here and they think you’re talking to yourself. Also I am sorry but this is what it is. I think you can infer that it’s him you are supposed to be interacting with.”
“So this is new torture from the powers that be? Make Buffy relive everything making the mourning process harder and also make her go back in time and have a chat with him because it will be so much more fun when she has to leave him again.” Buffy was angry and terrified, she didn’t want to see Spike again just so she’d have to leave him again.
“I wish there was something I could do. I don’t know how long you’ll be here, but you’ll come back to the same time as if nothing had happened.”
“You don’t know how long I’ll be here? Are we talking hours…or even days?” She didn’t think she’d be able to handle a minute let alone more than that.
Darla looked like this is the last question she wanted to answer, but she did reluctantly, “It could even be months…”
“What?!” Buffy yelled again.
“Sorry Buff, but it’s time to go. You’ll see him and you’ll figure out what to do.” With that Darla was gone leaving Buffy to stand there uncomfortably wondering what the hell she was going to do.
Buffy decided after a couple of minutes that Darla wasn’t coming back to tell her this was all a joke, she also wasn’t going to wake up from this dream. She decided to brave it and she slowly moved out of the room and into what seemed like a party. There were people in groups with drinks in their hand gossiping and talking about current events. Buffy thought the party looked boring…but it was Victorian.
In an effort to look like she belonged she joined in one of larger groups hoping to blend in while she waited for a glimpse of Spike. She hadn’t seen him at all yet, but knew she couldn’t rely on looking for bleach blond to find him. She’d have to wait to see his face. She was terrified. She had no idea what the people around her were talking about. All she could think about was how much she missed walking through her memories. At least those she didn’t have to interact with dead people that she couldn’t hope to see again in her actual life.
She decided to check and see what they were talking about in case they called on her to say something. It wasn’t like she could explain, “Actually I’m only here because I have to talk to my dead lover, presumably while he was alive, I’m from the future and have no idea what you all are on about.” So she paid attention instead. They were talking about killings that had happened around London. It was clear to Buffy that it was vampires but they were considering wild dogs and things people normally considered instead of vampires.
The brunette across from Buffy was speaking now, “I mean to point out that it’s something of a mystery and the police should keep an open mind.” Buffy had to agree with this statement but didn’t say anything out loud.
It was then that she noticed Spike out of the corner of her eye. He looked different, his hair was brown and a little longer than she was used to, and he also wore glasses. His face however was exactly the same and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. It had been hard to see him in her memories, but this was different. She knew he was right there and if she reached out, she could touch him. Others seemed to notice his presence and a man decided to bring him in the conversation.
“Ah, William! Favour us with your opinion. What do you think of this rash of disappearances sweeping through our town? Animals or thieves?” Buffy was looking at him along with everyone else; she hadn’t yet noticed that she was the only one who actually cared for his opinion.
“I prefer not to think of such dark, ugly business at all. That’s what the police are for.” Buffy noticed his accent was different and was definitely surprised at his response. She reminded herself that he was human here and had no idea what would be going on. No one said anything to that and he eventually continued. “I prefer, placing my energies into creating things of beauty.” He held up a small notebook now and she realized it would be his poetry. Still she was surprised at who he was turning out to be.
Another man piped up snatching his notebook out of his hand, “I see. Well don’t withhold William.”
“Rescue us from a dreary topic.” The brunette told him mockingly.
Buffy couldn’t believe a crowd of grown people would be such a bullies. She couldn’t believe even more that Spike seemed to be letting them. He did step forward towards the man who took the book, looking scared and embarrassed he told him, “Careful, the inks are still wet. Please it’s not finished.”
Was he begging? Buffy couldn’t believe this at all and continued looking at this incredulously.
The man who took the book stepped onto the stairs behind him, getting ready to read one of the poems aloud, “Don’t be shy.”
Spike made no more move to stop him looking defeated. Buffy could not believe this and looked at him full of disbelief and muttered, “What?” Under her breath not believing he would let this happen.
“My heart expands, tis grown a bulge in it…” the man began.
Buffy wasn’t paying attention and asked who was clearly William. “You just let him do that?”
William looked more embarrassed and quickly became angry with this woman he had never seen. Seething he told her, “This is none of your business.” He spun around seeming to be looking for someone as the man finished.
“Inspired by your beauty, effulgent.” He stopped and looked very amused before he outright made fun of William asking, “Effulgent?” as if it was the dumbest thing he had ever heard.
Buffy saw that William was now watching a different brunette girl retreat before he spun around and took back his poem, only briefly looking at Buffy before following after the girl that Buffy just discovered she recognized. Isn’t that Halfrek? She thought to herself.
She decided to follow them, as she was here to interact with him, though they clearly weren’t starting off on the right foot.
The people standing around were outright making fun of him now as Buffy began to follow after William without drawing attention to herself. “And that’s actually one of his better compositions.”
“Have you heard? They call him ‘William the Bloody’ because of his bloody awful poetry.”
Buffy’s ears perked up at this but didn’t say anything; it was when the man who had taken his book spoke that she decided to say something.
“It suits him. I would have a railroad spike through my head than listen to that awful stuff!”
Buffy smiled and looked at him after watching William continue to retreat. “You really shouldn’t have said that.”
She saw William go up to who was now clearly Halfrek but in Victorian dress. She stayed back not wanting him to notice she was following him. She was supposed to figure out what she was meant to change and so far she was drawing a blank, though it seemed kind of familiar.
“Cecily,” he addressed her.
Realization dawned on her. “That’s Cecily!” she whispered to herself. No wonder they recognized each other, she thought. She couldn’t believe he had never said anything. He had some nerve!
“Oh. Leave me alone.” She told him obviously meaning it. The look on William’s face silenced Buffy’s inner rambling.
William quickly recovered pointing at the other guests, not noticing Buffy standing close but out of his eye line. “Oh, they're vulgarians. They're not like you and I.” He sat on the couch she was sitting on.
Cecily turned to him now astonished, “You and I? I'm going to ask you a very personal question and I demand an honest answer. Do you understand?”
William nodded looking at her intently before she continued. “Your poetry, it's... they're... not written about me, are they?” She looked terrified of the answer and while jealousy was rising in her throat she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man who didn’t know how much she didn’t want them to be about her.
He broached the subject safely explaining, “They’re about how I feel.”
This would not cut it for Cecily, “Yes, but are they about me?”
Mustering up more courage than Buffy knew William would have he told her “Every syllable.” And Buffy could not help but be proud even as her jealousy peaked.
“Oh God!” Cecily cried as if it was the most devastating thing she had ever heard.
“Oh, I know, it's sudden and please, if they're no good, they're only words but, the feeling behind them...I love you, Cecily.” He told her he loved her with renewed courage and Buffy flinched knowing this couldn’t end well.
“Please stop!” Cecily told him still devastated.
William pressed on, not willing to give up so easily, “I know I’m a bad poet, but I’m a good man and all I ask is that…that you try to see me-“
Cecily cut him off at this telling him, “I do see you. That’s the problem.” She now stood up and looked down at him as if he were a bug, “You’re beneath me.” She told him before walking away.
Buffy’s heart sank. Partially for the broken man with tears welling up in his eyes, but partially with guilt. Guilt and horror at the knowledge that, years later she was able to say the same thing to him. She too didn’t stick around to see what it had done to him. He had been evil of course, but is that an excuse to be cruel?
As tears began to spill William got up and ran out of the party. Buffy ripped herself from her guilt feeling that this was all too familiar. Then it dawned on her. Poetry, Cecily, didn’t love him back…Drusilla. He just ran out to get killed.
Buffy took off after hoping to God she would be able to find him.
TBC.
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!