One Good Lay | Refection of Love by Pattyanne

Reflection Of Love
Parts 5-7

Summary: AU. Buffy discovers a mirror in her attic. The same mirror that was owned by William Cathcart over a hundred years ago. But who is the young man she sees in the mirror, and why are they able to communicate?
Disclaimer: I do not own the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel (The Series). All of the characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, et al.
Feedback: Yes Please! snapkik@yahoo.com

Part five...

Well, the girl was obviously deranged, William decided, taking a step back from the mirror. Lovely in face and form, but mad as a March Hare.

"This is insane," she muttered.

Yes. His thoughts exactly. No sane person would dress in such a way or invent such ludicrous tales. From the future, indeed!

And yet....

Was this not already the most unbelievable situation he'd ever found himself in? Something he would never have imagined possible just moments ago?

Because whether or not he accepted her bizarre suggestion of time travel, he WAS conversing with her through a piece of mirrored glass. If such a thing was truly happening, could ANYTHING be too far fetched?

"You believe me...don't you?"

Did he? Could he make such a leap of faith?

She was back on her feet now, close to the mirror once again. Her smooth brow was furrowed, her expression worried, and he suddenly felt a desperate need to comfort her, to ease that particular distress.

"I...I suppose I must," he replied, tugging nervously at his cravat.

"Because for a minute you were looking at me like I just escaped from the nut house."

"From...from the what?"

"The nut house. You know...the cracker factory. Laughing academy? Loony Bin?" She sighed at his continuing confusion. "The place they put the crazy people."

"Oh! You mean the asylum for the insane?"

"Yeah. But I'm not!"

"I never imagined that you were," William said gallantly.

Buffy smirked. "Oh, come on...not even for a second?" she asked, placing both hands on her hips.

William found himself smiling back. "Well...perhaps for a moment," he confessed. "But if what you claim is true..how can such a thing be?"

**************************************

It was a good question, and Buffy was unable to answer it without causing even more confusion for the poor boy.

How could she explain this to him? She believed and accepted it by virtue of the fact that she'd been raised in an age of fantastic possibilities. Things that were commonplace to her would seem like unimaginable fairy tales to William.

What if she were to tell him what the next hundred years had in store; of electricity and automobiles...of splitting the atom...of space travel? Wouldn't that all seem just as preposterous as what was happening now?

And not only had she grown up in an age of true miracles, but she'd cut her teeth on fantasy and science fiction.

When a person has seen dozens of movies and read countless books, from Jules Verne and H.G. Wells all the way up to Stephen King and William Gibson, they're slightly more inclined to believe in the utterly unbelievable.

"I don't know," she finally said. "I can't explain it...and I'm not sure I want to."

"What do you mean? Why would you not want to?"

Looking into his gentle blue eyes, Buffy shivered as a wave of excitement passed through her. She felt more attracted to the young man on the opposite side of the mirror than she'd ever felt to any flesh and blood male that had passed through her life.

This experience was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to her. Strange and inexplicable, yes...but amazing and wonderful as well, and she didn't want to question it too closely.

"It's just...well, if it's magic," she said, lowering her voice to a whisper, "then I don't want to disturb it. I don't want to do anything that might make it go away." On the other side of the mirror, William stepped closer. "Magic?" he asked softly.

Buffy smiled. God, he was adorable.

"Oh, William...don't you feel it, too?"

*********************************************

Yes, he felt it. He wanted to shout the words out loud.

He'd felt it the moment he'd heard her voice, the instant he'd seen her face.

It WAS magic. It had to be. Even if there was a logical and scientific explanation for this occurrence, William was convinced it would still be secondary to its true nature. Nothing this wonderful could be anything other than the most fantastical enchantment.

Miss Buffy was right. Some things were better left unexplained.

William had no idea why HE had been chosen to be on the other end of this splendid encounter, but he had no intention of turning away from it.

"I do feel it," he said earnestly. "And...it's magical."

If possible, her smile became even brighter at his words. Her green eyes...well, they sparkled. There was simply no other way to describe it. Like starlight...or the sun dancing on water...or...or diamonds! No...emeralds. What rhymes with emeralds?

He began automatically cross referencing in his brain, searching for words he could use to describe this golden haired angel in prose...then he met her gaze and those thoughts were put aside.

This could very well end as suddenly and unexpectedly as it had begun, and he was not going to waste any time trying to come up with pretentious phraseology designed to impress his peers with his intelligence. He didn't want to write about this girl.

He wanted to talk to her, spend time with her, learn all there was to know about her.

Especially why she dressed in such a provocative fashion.

Was that the way young ladies were garbing themselves in the year two thousand and four? If so, he couldn't imagine how a gentleman could possibly concentrate on the daily business of living.

Why, he was finding it difficult remembering to breathe with her standing before him in such...abbreviated garments.

"You're staring."

Her voice shocked him out of his trance, and his face flushed with shame.

"Oh...I...I do beg your pardon," he stammered. "It's just that...well, I...I...I'm sorry."

How atrociously rude! To stand here and gape at a lady in such a forward manner! This cad-like behavior was completely unlike him. Mother would be.....

"It's all right. William...come on...look at me. Please?"

Even in the extremes of his embarrassment, he could refuse her nothing. Reluctantly, he lifted his eyes to meet her direct gaze. "Miss Buffy...I don't know how to..."

"William," she cut in. "It's all right for you to look at me."

She tilted her head a little, giving him the cheekiest smile he'd ever seen.

"Do you like looking at me?"

Her hands were clasped behind her back, a position that thrust her breasts forward enticingly.

All the blood that had rushed to his face, now redirected itself to points south.

"Do you?"

Oh, good lord! She was speaking to him...and she obviously expected a coherent answer.

"Yes," he said, his voice sounding strained to his own ears. "I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

***************************************

Highly pleased at his compliment, Buffy was equally thrilled by the expression in his eyes.

The lovely blue of his iris had darkened behind his spectacles, giving them an intensity that could easily steal a girl's breath away.

She would give anything to be able to reach through that mirror and remove those spectacles, to smooth that unruly lock of hair back from his brow, to trace her fingers over the high arch of his cheekbones.

Would it shock him, if he knew what she wanted to do with him?

After all, wasn't 1880 part of England's 'Victorian Age'? A time when, if she remembered her history properly, everyone was operating under a strict set of moral standards imposed by the queen, its prudery taken to sometimes ridiculous extremes.

It was a time when you couldn't even SAY the word 'leg' in mixed company, let alone expose them.

No wonder he'd been staring. Had he ever seen a woman's bare legs before? Or any OTHER part, for that matter? If not...maybe it was time he did.

It was a tantalizing thought.

Just how innocent was he?

Part six....

"Thank you," she said, responding to his complimentary words. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Oh, I can't believe that," William replied, forcing away his embarrassment at being caught staring so brazenly.

Her apparent disregard for his rudeness was making him feel much more at ease about the incident, although it wasn't helping the physical reaction he was having. He suspected that as long as she stood before him half undressed, that state of affairs was unlikely to change.

As badly as he wanted to conceal it from her, to turn away from her shining eyes and knowing smile, he couldn't make himself do it. What if he did...and she disappeared?

No. He would suffer through it as best he could and pray that she wouldn't notice his problem.

********************************

Since she couldn't think of any other way to kick things off, Buffy decided to fall back on tried and true methods.

"So," she said, bundling up the blanket that had fallen from the mirror and plopping down on it, "tell me about yourself."

He only hesitated a moment before copying her action, sink- ing down to the floor on his side of the mirror.

"I...I don't really know how to begin."

"Okay, that's understandable. I mean...this IS a pretty freaky situation. Makes sense that you'd be thrown for a loop."

He looked almost comically perplexed. "I understand 'freakish situation', but...'thrown for a loop' ?"

"Well...it's slang," Buffy explained. "It means that this thing that's happening is so...bizarre...that it's natural to be somewhat...somewhat..."

"Befuddled?" he offered.

"That's as good a word as any."

"And do all Americans in 2004 speak in this manner?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Anyway," she continued, "how about if we take turns asking questions and get to know each other a little better?"

William nodded agreeably. "A sensible suggestion."

"Right. You start."

"Oh, no. Ladies first," he insisted.

Figuring that he would probably die of shock if she asked him what was REALLY on her mind, Buffy began with easy, non-aggressive inquiries. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-six. And you?"

"Twenty-five. Got any hobbies?"

"Well, I don't know that I'd refer to them as hobbies, but I write poetry...sometimes...and I sketch, mostly landscapes, and not very well."

They sat and conversed for a good half an hour, exchanging questions and answers. For the most part, the questions were kept light and impersonal, making Buffy anxious to cut to the chase.

"See how easy this is?" she asked, smiling when he did. "So," she added, trying to sound casual when she asked her next question, "have you...got a girlfriend?"

*****************************************

It wasn't difficult for William to determine the gist of her question, even though the term 'girlfriend' was unfamiliar.

"Not...precisely," he said evasively.

"A handsome guy like you? I'll bet all the girls are after you."

His cheeks flushed, William shook his head. "I can assure you they're not."

"Come on," she coaxed. "There must be someone special. Someone YOU like."

Blushing all the way to the tips of his ears, he ducked his head a bit. "There is one young lady that I have...ad- mired. But she has no interest in me."

"Well, how do you know? Have you told her that you like her?"

"You mean...have I spoken plainly of my feelings?"

Buffy nodded, surprised when she saw him swallow hard, as though trying to dislodge something painful from his throat.

"What's wrong?" she asked, pretty sure she already knew. "Was she mean to you?"

Buffy could feel the hair on the back of her neck prickle with irritation. The thought of some stuck up Victorian Miss Priss being unkind to this sweet and gentle young man made her wish there was something she could actually do about it...something like a good, old-fashioned cat fight would do nicely.

For his part, William was beginning to regret ever having said anything to Cecily in the first place. He now felt that he had gotten over her with such unseemly haste that perhaps his feelings truly hadn't been all he'd thought them to be.

"Not...not until recently," he explained haltingly.

"And it didn't go well?" Buffy pressed.

He shook his head, staring at the floor, uncertain as to how much of his humiliation he wanted to reveal. If he admitted to Miss Buffy what a fool he'd made of himself, she might also want nothing to do with him.

Even though their acquaintance was of decidedly short notice and limited to the boundaries the mirror imposed on them, making it impossible for them to ever do more than converse, he was oddly unwilling to say anything that might make him seem unpleasing in her eyes.

"Well, if it wouldn't be too nosy to ask...what did you say to her?" When he looked up with startled eyes, she quickly added, "I was just wondering...I mean...maybe I can help. You know...give you a woman's perspective on where you might have gone....wrong?"

"Oh, I...I couldn't impose upon you like that," he demurred.

Buffy couldn't believe what she was doing. Was she actually going to give a guy that SHE liked tips on how to attract other girls? How stupid was THAT?

Still...it wasn't as though she could have him anyway. Not through a pane of glass and a hundred year plus separation in time. As attracted as she was to William Cathcart, it would be mighty selfish behavior on her part to withhold any help she could possibly provide.

**Sometimes doing the right thing really sucks!**

"You're not imposing. I want to help," she said, hoping she sounded more sincere than she felt. "So, you came right out and told her how you feel about her?"

Unable to see any way out of it, William sighed and nodded.

"What did you say?"

After a long pause, his face hot with embarrassment, he said, "I wrote her a poem describing her beauty and declaring my...admiration."

Buffy stared at him, her mind reeling at this little nugget of information. She'd never heard of anything so poignantly romantic. The closest SHE'D ever come to having a man praise her in verse were the prefab rhymes found on the insides of greeting cards.

What kind of moron was this woman, anyway?

Did she have any IDEA how many women would give a year off their life to be in her shoes?

"Well...what did she say to you about it?" Buffy asked, her protective instincts getting riled up all over again.

"It was more what she DIDN'T say," he admitted. "I'm afraid she considers me...beneath her."

"That BITCH!" Her hand flew up to clap over her mouth, but it was too late. The word was out, and couldn't be taken back. Horrified at what she'd said, she looked at him through wide eyes.

What must he think of her? He was accustomed to being around ladies who probably never uttered ANY sort of profanity, and here she had all but shouted one. Worse, she'd insulted the girl he admired, the one who had inspired him to write poetry about her.

Now he would probably hate her, would look at her in shock and disgust, would think of her as a low class, foul mouthed piece of trash, a gutter dwelling little...

Her silent litany of self abuse took a screeching right turn when she saw the look on his face. He didn't appear to be appalled or revolted in any way. He actually looked very....amused!

In fact, he looked to be trying not to laugh out loud.

Amusement aside, Buffy tried to mend fences.

"Oh, I'm really sorry," she said, ashamed of her out- burst. "I don't know why I said that, but...but I shouldn't have. It was...it was rude and mean, I know. I just...it pissed me...made me angry when I heard what she'd said to you."

The smile that graced his handsome face was the sweetest she'd ever seen. How any woman could resist this shy and charming young poet was completely beyond her.

She wanted so badly to be able to hold his face between her hands and kiss the lovely curve of his lips, to pull away slowly, opening her eyes to find that his were still closed, to wait for them to open and gaze into hers as she leaned forward for another...lingering...

"Please, don't feel you need to apologize," he said, jerking her right out of her daydream. "I daresay, I found it quite amusing. I do so enjoy the brash way you express yourself."

Well, that was something anyway.

"I guess it's pretty different from what you're used to," she replied, tucking her hair neatly behind her ears.

"Very different," he agreed. "That's what's so wonderful about it."

Relief flooded through her. "So...you're not mad at me for insulting what's-her-name?"

William laughed a little. "No, of course I'm not. And your offer to help is very kind."

"Help?" She'd totally forgotten about that!

"Yes. You offered to give me a...how did you put it...a woman's perspective on what I might be doing wrong in regards to Cecily."

Cecily? So THAT was the bitch's name!

"Yeah. I did say that, didn't I?"

Buffy didn't know why she sounded so dejected. The situation hadn't changed. She couldn't have William.

But she didn't want Cecily to have him either, damn it!

Chiding herself for her dog-in-the-manger attitude, she pasted a bright smile on her face.

"I said it...and I meant it! We'll get you on the right track with good old...."

"Cecily," he supplied helpfully.

"Yeah, her. And...and who knows? Maybe she really does like you, too," Buffy said, trying to sound encouraging about that possibility. "Maybe, she was just nervous...or shy."

**Or maybe, she's a great big bitch!**

"Sometimes girls...when they like a boy...don't always know how to let them in on it. Especially back in your day when everybody is so....repressed."

"Repressed?" He tilted his head, a gesture so charming that she nearly missed what he was saying. "Is that what you think?"

But there was no missing the look in his eyes! Even behind his glasses, they seemed darker and more intense all of a sudden, and they were pinned on her in a way that made her body sit up and take notice.

**This is unbelievable. He's just LOOKING at me and it's getting me hot.**

What had happened to the bashful and blushing young man she'd been talking with?

The only thing she could conclude was that there was quite a bit more to William than she'd imagined. Victorian gentleman he might be, but there was an obviously deep seated core of natural sensuality that he probably wasn't even aware of, and it was beginning to break through the barrier of his reserve.

Buffy wanted more than anything to help it along. All she needed to do was figure out how.

Part seven...

Buffy spent the next three days "loosening up" William Cathcart.

On the night of their initial meeting they had both been reluctant to call it quits. What if they were to say goodnight to each other and go their separate ways, then find out the next day that their mirror was no longer in service?

But since neither of them could spend the rest of their life sitting in the same room in front of a mirror, they had finally given in and promised to meet again in exactly eight hours.

Strangely enough, even though they were over a hundred years apart and on different continents, the actual time of day was the same. This made no sense, since England was at least eight hours or so ahead of the United States, but nothing about their situation made sense anyway, so they didn't question it.

At ten o'clock the following morning, Buffy had flown up the stairs and into the attic, fingers crossed and heart hammering loudly enough to wake the dead. She'd stood outside the attic door for a moment, trying to calm down and prepare herself for possible disappointment.

Then, holding her breath, she'd opened the door and stepped inside.

The relief she'd felt made the air rush out of her lungs in a deep sigh.

William had been waiting for her, sitting on the end of his bed with his hands clasped and an anxious expression on his face; an expression that had blossomed into a wide smile when she'd walked into the room.

He'd confessed that he hadn't slept well at all, afraid to close his eyes lest the sight of her attic in the mirror fade from view. The only thing that had finally allowed him to drop off, he had told her, had been the realization that if the mirror was going to stop working, he didn't have the first clue about how to keep it from happening.

When a chiming clock in his bedroom struck the hour of noon, a maid had knocked lightly on his door. Without thinking, he'd bade her come in. The words were no sooner out of his mouth before he'd jumped to his feet and dove across the room, but it was too late. The maid entered, carrying a silver luncheon tray.

Fully expecting the girl to drop the tray in shock at the sight of Buffy and her attic displayed in a mirror, William desperately began cobbling together some kind of feasible explanation.

That explanation turned out to be unnecessary, as it quickly became clear that the maid saw nothing unusual in the mirror. She even paused a moment to look into it, tucking an escaping lock of hair back under her cap, before leaving.

Buffy and William had exchanged surprised looks. Ap- parently, they were the only ones the mirror was showing its magic to; just the two of them and, for some reason, Lillybelle.

At least that's what they'd theorized, since Buffy had no intention of inviting anyone up to her attic to test that theory. She lived in a world where that sort of thing would have the government showing up on her doorstep to con- fiscate the mirror and whisk it off to some secret installation where they could "study" the phenomena.

Delighted at the new turn of events, Buffy had run down to the kitchen and fixed herself a sandwich so they could 'dine together'.

They'd talked while eating. He had told her things about Victorian England that she'd never even heard of, and she'd reciprocated. Since she couldn't possibly have squeezed in everything that had taken place in the last one hundred and twenty four years, she'd stuck to the big highlights; both world wars, the invention of the automobile, air travel, the miracles of modern medicine, and the sinking of the Titanic.

His jaw nearly hit the floor when she told him that man had been to the moon and was now eyeing Mars.

Her description of movies and television fascinated him, so much so that she decided to bring the TV and VCR into the attic and show him what she was talking about.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"What it is titled again?"

Buffy turned the television so that the screen was more easily viewed, then popped in a videotape.

"Well," she sighed, blasting through the coming attraction, "unfortunately my grandmother had a pretty limited selection of movies here. She tended to stick to the really old ones and a lot of musicals. This one is called Man of La Mancha. It's about this old man, Don Quixote, and...."

"By Cervantes?" he asked.

"That's right. Have you read it?"

"Not for quite some time. But I enjoyed it very much."

Buffy settled herself down in a rocking chair she'd brought from her room and punched the 'play' button.

Watching William was actually more fun than watching the movie itself. He looked so completely amazed and delighted with what he was seeing.

Surprisingly, he remained very quiet. She'd half expected him to ask endless questions about how the gadgetry worked, but he didn't seem terribly interested. He was far more captivated by the story and the songs.

Must be the poet in him, she decided.

Although the actors singing ability left a great deal to be desired, he made no comments about it.

But when Don Quixote began singing his tribute to the lady he worshiped, William actually moved closer to the mirror.

"I have dreamed thee too long,
Never seen thee or touched thee
But known thee with all of my heart

Half a prayer, half a song
Thou has always been with me
Though we have been always apart"

Buffy couldn't take her eyes off him. His expression was so....full of yearning.

"Dulcinea...Dulcinea
I see heaven when I see thee, Dulcinea
And thy name is like the prayer an angel whispers
Dulcinea....Dulcinea"

She had never particularly liked old musicals, but watching William drink in this new experience was beginning to change her mind about them.

"If I reach out to thee
Do not tremble and shrink
From the touch of my hand on thy hair

Let my fingers but see
Thou art warm and alive
And no phantom to fade in the air"

He turned his head to look at her, then glanced away quickly when he saw her staring at him.

Not wanting him to feel uncomfortable, she forced herself to watch the movie.

"Dulcinea....Dulcinea
I have sought thee, sung thee, dreamed thee, Dulcinea
Now I've found you and the world shall know the glory
Of Dulcinea....Dulcinea"

When the song ended, Buffy pushed the pause button.

"That was a pretty song, wasn't it?"

William nodded, obviously still enraptured by it. "It was truly lovely," he murmured. "To possess the talent...the gift...for writing something so deeply passionate." He sighed. "Perhaps if I'd been able to express my feelings so beautifully....."

He let the words trail off, making Buffy wonder if he was thinking of Cecily and wishing he'd been able to write such a thing for her.

Just the thought of it made her feel queasy.

Firmly shoving the unappealing thought of William and Cecily out of her mind, she thumbed the 'play' button on the remote.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go"

His attention once again captured by the music, she turned her gaze on him again.

"To right the unrightable wrong
To love, pure and chaste from afar
To try, when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star"

Boy! She'd thought he'd looked impressed before!

Now he seemed....enchanted.

"This is my quest
To follow that star
No matter how hopeless
No matter how far

To fight for the right
Without question or pause
To be willing to march into hell
For a heavenly cause"

His head was tilted slightly to one side, his lips parted just a little.

"And I know, if I'll only be true
To this glorious quest
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest"

Buffy had heard this song many times before, but it had never sounded quite like this to her ears.

"And the world will be better for this
That one man, scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star"

When the movie ended, she hit 'stop' and ejected the tape.

"Oh, Buffy," William breathed fervently. "Such stirring words. I'm...I'm quite...overwhelmed." She smiled. "You MUST be. That's the first time you've used my name without saying 'Miss' first."

Immediately, his cheeks turned red. "Oh. I...I'm so very sorry. Please...please forgive my familiarity," he stammered.

Just when you think a guy can't get any more adorable, he does something to raise the bar, she mused.

"William...stop apologizing. I don't mind. In fact, I'd rather you just call me Buffy. Okay?"

He ducked his head shyly. "Well...if you're certain you don't mind, then...then I suppose...

" "Good!" she interjected. "Now THAT'S settled, tell me what you think of the movie."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Although he assured her that he didn't want to leave her company, William had to excuse himself to take the evening meal with his mother. He could get away with having luncheon served in his room, could even decline afternoon tea, but his mother expected him at breakfast and supper, and if he'd remained in his room she'd no doubt call for a doctor to find out what was ailing him.

Buffy understood, and told him so, but being apart from him was curiously painful. It was a feeling that frightened her a little.

She was coming to care for this boy too deeply. Falling in love with him would be remarkably easy and a major mistake, since there was no possibility of a future with him. Technically, he didn't even exist anymore. They could never touch hands, or kiss, or...or anything.

But, God...he was so sweet. How could she NOT love him?

Just because 'Cecily the Stupid Bitch' didn't find him everything SHE wanted in a man, didn't mean that Buffy wouldn't snap him up in a heartbeat if she'd been able to.

William was gentle and romantic, and she had a feeling that if she could step into his time, push him down on a chair, remove his spectacles and unfasten his shirt...she would be mightily pleased with what she found hidden beneath all those clothes.

Feeling a sudden need to distract herself from these thoughts, she ran downstairs and grabbed her purse and keys.

It was time to pay a visit to the local video store.

TBC...

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