The Slayer & The Poet

 

Stanza the 1st

 

By Sailor Lum

 

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Disclaimer: The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Same goes for any characters from Angel that should appear. Any other characters are mine and may be used for other fanfic (Just note that they’re mine if you use them.)

 

Content rating note: This fic is rated PG-13.

 

Continuity note: This story takes place in an AU season 6, in which Buffy didn’t die at the end of season five. This is only important to know for Buffy and the girls’ state of mind since this is set in 1880. Time travel is involved. You’ll see what I mean. Spoilers for “Fool for Love” and a little “Lies My Parents Told Me.” BTW, Don’t believe everything you read in here about prose available in 1880. I’m making certain books up completely.

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1

 

William Brighton sat at the big writing desk in his room, diligently composing yet another love poem about the beautiful Miss Cecily Addams. He bent over the page, brows knit in concentration, puzzling over just the right words. It wasn’t rhyming very well, but he knew that there are plenty of good, even great, poems that don’t rhyme at all. Not that this is a good poem, a doubting voice in his head declared.

 

Silence, his mind said to that doubting traitor, Mother likes them.

 

Only, Mother.

 

Of that he was fairly certain, even though he had managed to get a couple published to a very small, and obscure, literary magazine.

 

Every time he dared to share one of his poems with his social circle, he was met with mocking scorn. Barely concealed, if not dealt outright. But what do they know. They know nothing of true love and beauty.  

 

Finally, he found the words he wanted and put them down. It’s not very good. But I’ll read it to Mother and see what she thinks. He sighed, and pushed away from his desk. As he stood, he took the spectacles from his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose briefly before popping them back on.

 

Then, he strolled to his bookcase for a little light reading before bedtime. The bookcase was filled with many small and large volumes of poetry and quite a good lot of novels too. He had all the well known poets. William Wordsworth, Sir Walter Scott, and John Keats, were but a few. And of course, he had all of Shakespeare.

 

He had a good deal of lesser known poets as well. Some of the utmost obscurity. He was quite taken with the works of one E. A. Poe. He had discovered a book of his poems while rummaging at a dingy bookshop in downtown London. It’s weatherworn shop sign had declared it to be “The Palace of Prose.” Palace, indeed! Hovel of Prose, was more like it. He almost didn’t go in, but he was desperate for something new to read. He always devoured his books much too fast. When he wasn’t writing his own prose or making calls, he was almost always reading.

 

The Hovel of Prose kept drawing him back with its rare and exotic stock. The most exotic, and scandalous, was a book of English prose inspired in part by a trip its author made to India. William had been intrigued with the title, “The Spirituality of Love.” The combination of those two ideas was irresistible. As it turned out, the book would have been more aptly titled “The Spirituality of Making Love.” For, it purported that sex was not just about child making, or “a man’s release, or “a women’s wifely duty,” but about love and spiritual connection. Sex was not “relations,” but “making love.” And despite the fact that he shouldn’t be reading about such ideas, he couldn’t help but be taken with the notion of “making love.” It made the whole business seem romantic. And the thought of being able to give pleasure, as well as receiving, gave him a secret thrill. He had no idea if such notions were valid. Especially since he had no experience in the subject matter.

 

He didn’t dare ask Mother. The book was one of his few secrets from her. He kept it hidden behind his other, more acceptable, books. If someone rummaged through his shelves they would surely find it, though. But he never worried about discovery. No one was interested enough to bother going through his odd collection.

 

He pulled a book of short stories from the shelf, lay down on the bed, and began to read.

 

 

2

 

Buffy Summers had just about had enough of Victorian London. It was smoggy and boring. Although, it could have been much worse. Much, much worse. If Willow and Tara hadn’t been sucked in the time portal with her, she would have gone crazy with loneliness. Not to mention that she would have starved on the streets without the pair of witches to conjure money and other goods. Tara wasn’t so keen on conjuring up money, at first, until they found that without references the only fields open to them were prostitution or perhaps burlesque. That changed Tara’s tune in a hurry. Willow conjured a comfortable amount of money for them each week. Enough to afford a nice London apartment, and keep them fed and warm.

 

Willow could conjure just about anything that they could want, as long as it wasn’t too big and wouldn’t draw too much attention by it’s presence in that time period.

 

Dress of the period was also almost immediately conjured for the three upon their arrival. Although, they quickly had Willow nix the whalebone corset and the unwieldy bustle. A series of light petticoats was substituted for the bustle. They would just have to deal with being not entirely in fashion. There was just no way they were going to put up with not being able to sit and breathe like a normal people. Normal 21st century people, that is.

 

They soon developed a cover story of being the last survivors of their family’s estates, for the benefit of anyone who would inquire as to why three young ladies were living alone.

 

Willow and Tara made many efforts to research a way to get home, but all the information they gathered from the books in the hidden magic shops suggested that they were good and stuck. Apparently, traveling back in time or to alternate dimensions was much more possible than going into the future.

 

On just about the only bright side, at least Buffy didn’t have Slayer duty anymore. This world already had one and they weren’t on a Hellmouth. She found herself going out on patrol some nights, nonetheless. She rarely found anything to slay though. Boring, boring, boring, she’d think most nights as she patrolled the London alleys and nearby graveyard. Usually all she found down the alleys was the odd hooker or two being humped against a wall.

 

And when she wasn’t bored, she was worried. What’s happening back home? Is Dawn ok? Who’s taking care of her? And what about Xander and Anya? Maybe they’re taking care of Dawn. And Giles. Giles is probably frantic. In his own British way, anyhow. He’s probably cleaned straight through his glasses. That last thought made her laugh a bit. Then she felt sad again.

 

And Spike. Spike will be going nuts and taking everyone with him, she thought as she sighed in her chair by the fireplace. “God, I even miss Spike,” she finally said out loud. Willow and Tara looked up from their reading and smiled, not quite managing a laugh. They felt guilty. They were kind of enjoying the time period. And they had each other.

 

 

                                                                             3       

 

As usual, his mother was delighted by his poetry. He had replied with his usual response to her praise. It’s just scribble. And as usual, she told him that was nonsense, and that the poem in question was magnificent.

 

William had to be honest with himself, though. He knew, knew, that his poems were bad. Bloody awful, even, as his so called “friends” would say behind his back. Worse they’d say it in front of him.

 

No, he would not be bringing this poem with him to the party tonight.

 

He stuffed it in a desk drawer and then grabbed some blank parchment and a pen. Just in case inspiration struck.

 

Then he went to the sitting room to kiss his mum on the cheek before he left. She wished him a good time at the party and he left with a light heart. For it wasn’t just any party. It was a party held by Cecily, herself. At her house! For which he had received a personal invitation.

 

Surely, it would be a wonderful night.

 

 

4

 

“I think I’m going to go out,” Buffy announced, as she got up from couch. She smoothed the skirts of her lavender dress as she stood.

 

“Out?” said Willow, looking up from her book.

 

“Yeah, some fresh air will do me good,” Buffy replied.

 

 “And, m-maybe you’ll find something to slay tonight,” said Tara. She was doing needlepoint and now looked up from it as she continued to sew.

 

“A girl can dream,” Buffy quipped, as she stepped out the door and into the hall.

 

As she stepped out into the night, she wished for some small demon or vamp to show up so she could slay it and have something useful to do. After all, she couldn’t cook or sew or do a lick of magic, unlike Willow and Tara. Just a little evil. No big evil. Just something I can do.

 

Her first stop was the graveyard. After several hours of wondering back and forth, she gave it up in favor of the London alleys. Surely some evil will be lurking somewhere, she thought.

 

“Here, evil, evil, evil,” she called softly in a singsong voice “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” She crept through the alleys, stake at the ready.

 

 

5

 

William fled the party in tears, and when he passed through the doorway into the night street he began shredding his latest poetry to bits as well. All pride undone, he sobbed bitterly.

 

After being rudely bumped into by a trio on the street, he made his way down the nearest alley. He sat down on a bale of hay where he could continue his sobbing and shredding in peace.

 

Or so he thought.

 

 

6

 

Buffy was about to give up for the night when she heard a familiar voice down the next alley. Drusilla, that sounds like Drusilla! With a mixture of excited nervousness, Buffy peeked down the alley.

 

There was Drusilla, speaking softly to a young man in light tweed, with glasses and soft golden-brown curls. The man had obviously been crying. Dru opened the collar of his shirt.

 

“I see what you want. Something glowing and glistening. Something…effulgent,” Dru cooed at him. The man’s eyes began to light up as he repeated the last word softly, stunned.

 

Buffy began to creep towards Drusilla and her would-be victim. She gripped her stake tightly, ready to deal the dusting blow.

 

Dru placed the man’s hand over her non-beating heart. “Do you want it?” she asked.

 

“Oh, yes! God, yes,” he replied, thoroughly enraptured.

 

Buffy thought there was something strangely familiar about the man too, but couldn’t quite place it. Ponder later, stake now! she admonished herself, just as Dru morphed into vamp face. The man looked oddly calm, and more confused than scared. Buffy reared back and plunged the stake through Drusilla. As she crumbled to dust, the man looked almost disappointed.

 

He stared at Buffy dumbly.

 

She looked into his face, the words “What are you?! Crazy?!” spilling from her lips and then she finally recognized who he was. It was Spike!

 

The thought that she might find Spike, living William pre-vamp Spike, never occurred to her. But here he was. Same blue eyes. Same high cheekbones. But not Spike. He would never be Spike, thanks to her. She felt strangely sad at that thought. Stupid! Don’t feel sad. Saving human William, good. Letting him get turned by Drusilla so he can become the scourge of Europe, bad.

 

William began to squirm under her gaze. She was looking at him so intently. And he was so confused.

 

“Who-? What-? W-Why?” he stuttered helplessly.

 

 “Who. You. Almost got bitten by a vampire and turned into an unholy creature of the night. What. What a lucky guy you are that I came along and saved you from it. Why. Because I have a stake and I know how to use it,” Buffy answered. “Now, you going to explain to me why you almost let yourself be killed?”

 

 

7

 

William sniffled as he finished his tale of woe. It hadn’t taken much prodding to get it out of him. He had wept throughout the whole telling as well. He was too tired and depressed to try and scrape up any kind of face saving dignity.

 

“So, let me get this straight. You write some heartfelt love poetry at a party,” Buffy begins, “Some jerks read it out loud to the group and mock you in front of the girl you like. Then after you admit that all the poetry you’ve ever written has been about her and you love her, she rips your heart out and stomps it on the floor.”

 

William nods his head yes.

 

“Is this the poem in question?” Buffy asks as she points down to the scraps of paper strewn about their feet.

 

William nods his head again. 

 

Poor thing, she thinks as she shakes her head. “And this was all worth dying over?”

 

“You don’t understand!” he wailed, suddenly coming to life. “I have nothing!”

 

 “Well, you still have your health,” Buffy quipped.

 

William’s face contorted before giving into a pained laugh.

 

“Thought I’d get a smile.”

 

She smiles just like an angel, William thought, Maybe she is one.

 

“Are you an angel?” William asked earnestly.

 

Buffy laughed. “No. Just a girl.” Then she stood up and offered her hand. “I’m Buffy.” After getting a strange look she added, “Elizabeth Summers. But all my friends call me Buffy. You can call me Buffy too.”

 

William took her hand and stood up, saying “Oh, no no. I couldn’t presume-”

 

“Listen, I insist that all men who have hysterics in front of me call me Buffy.”

 

William blushed.

 

“As- As you wish, Miss Buffy.” he paused then, remembering his manners. “And please, pardon my rudeness. I am William- William Brighton.”

 

Buffy giggled softly. His accent was so different. More like Giles’ or Wesley’s. “Well, pleased to meet you, William.”

 

He was about to protest the use of his first name when they’d just barely met, but then thought better of it. He supposed anyone who saved his life had earned the right to call him by his Christian name.

 

“Th-thank you for saving my life,” William said suddenly, remembering that he hadn’t yet shown any gratitude.

 

Buffy looked at him kindly and said, “You’re welcome.”

 

It was hard to believe that this is the man that would have become Spike. ‘Always been bad’, my foot! What a liar! This William wouldn’t hurt a fly! And he writes romantic love poems for Pete’s sake! And he’s wearing tweed! Check the hair and glasses! He’s- he’s…Well, he’s kind of a Poindexter. Buffy struggled to stifle a series of giggles, but was unsuccessful. It was kind of an adorable look on him.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry William! I just- just-” Buffy stumbled as she tried to think up a good reason for her giggle fit. Suddenly it struck her. Willow!

 

 “You- you just remind me of my best friend, Willow. This sounds like the kind of thing she went through. She always got the shaft in popular society,” she finished, her laughter trailing off finally.

 

“The- the shaft?” William queried as he quirked an eyebrow at her, confused.

 

“Um…you know, like, instead of getting the gold from the mine, you get pushed down the shaft.”

 

“Ah,” William said, nodding his head in understanding. Then he chuckled. Then he laughed. It was that kind of laughter you get from crazy people, when they’ve just gone around the bend.

 

“I’m not gonna’ have to get the net, am I?” Buffy joked.

 

“The net?” he inquired, stilled in a fit of giggling. Then he shook his head, as if to say, ‘never mind.’ Then another thought struck him.

 

“You’re an American, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And that was a vampire you saved me from, was it not?”

 

“Yes…” Buffy looked at him more intently, trying to discern what he was getting at.

 

“So are there many vampires in America? Is that how you knew what to do?”

 

Hey, that’s not a bad explanation, Buffy thought. She seized it. “Well, in the town I lived in there were a lot.”

 

“How terrible! That such a beautiful girl would have to deal with such ugly business!”

 

“Yes, it is. And thank you.” Buffy said. Then she took the opportunity to add a new level to her cover story.

 

“In fact, it’s the reason me and my roommates moved here to London. After all our families had died, we thought maybe London would be a safer place. And it is, by comparison,” she finished, proud of her new embellishment to her fake past.

 

William was horrorstruck. Buffy noticed and quickly added, “Oh, they weren’t all killed by vampires. Some died of natural causes.”

 

William stared at her.

 

Way to go Buffy. Let’s wig the poor thing out some more.

 

“Um, I know that sounds like a pretty small silver lining. But it’s better that at least some of them were spared being demons, right?” Then, suddenly the thought of Angelus and Darla occurred to her. If Drusilla was here, than Angelus and Darla must be here too. And if they come back looking for Dru…there’ll be trouble.

 

Buffy grabbed William’s arm before he could respond and began dragging him out of the alley. “C’mon William. Let’s get out of here. Who knows if that lady vamp has buddies. I can take one but…” She trailed off. She really didn’t want to deal with Angelus. Especially since she knew he had a destiny as Angel. That, and Angelus was damn creepy and tough.

 

Buffy hugged William’s arm to her protectively, causing him to blush and forget about any other inquiries to her past or vampires, he might have.

 

“Where’s your home William? I’ll walk you,” Buffy said.

 

“Oh no, it’s much to far!” William protested.

 

“We’ll get a cab, er, carriage then.”

 

“You don’t need to come with me. I thank you for saving me, but I can get home on my own,” William said rather indignantly.

 

Buffy thought a moment. She just couldn’t rest until she was sure he made it home safely. His male pride, what was left of it anyway, wouldn’t let her act as his bodyguard though. She would have to think fast. William was already looking around for a carriage to hire.

 

“Ah, there’s one,” William said. He began walking in the direction of a shiny black carriage, Buffy still holding on to his arm.

 

“Why don’t I ride with you? Just for fun,” Buffy suggested. She knew she must have said the wrong thing somewhere, because now he was looking confused and shocked again.

 

‘Just for fun?’ She can’t mean to…Surely she’s not- That can’t be what she means, William thought frantically. ‘Fun’ was a word often used by the prostitutes who frequented the tavern across from the Hovel of Prose. ‘You look like you could use a spot of fun,’ they would say. When he acted like he didn’t know what they were talking about, one would come closer to him and lift the skirt of her dress to reveal her bare thigh. ‘You know…Fun,’ she would say, emphasizing the last word. Changing its original benign meaning. After getting propositioned several times, he learned to avoid that side of the street

 

Buffy’s mind railed. Can a lady not suggest going on a carriage ride with a guy or something? Was it too effing forward!? Is there something wrong with a suggestion of fun? Are they that stuffy here!? Damned conservative easily wigged Victorian period!

 

Buffy sighed.

 

“Listen,” Buffy began,” I don’t know what I just said there to disturb you, but I didn’t mean anything weird by it. I just wanted to talk with you some more. You’re the first really interesting person I’ve met in London so far. I just thought we could chat some.” Then she turned on the patented Buffy Pout and added, “Unless you don’t want to talk to me anymore.”

 

“Oh, no no! It isn’t that at all Miss Buffy!” William said, relieved and blushing even more furiously than before. “P-please, do join me.” He opened the carriage door and ushered her in.

 

Once inside, William sat in his seat wondering how he just ended up alone in a carriage with a lady he’d barely met. Not just a lady, William. A beautiful lady, he thought.

 

“So tell me about yourself, William. Do you write poetry for a living?”

 

William laughed, bitter. “Ha! I wish! Weren’t you paying attention previously? I’m the one they call ‘William the Bloody’ for his ‘bloody awful’ poetry.”

 

“Well, that’s just your friends. Or not-friends. Maybe they don’t know what they’re talking about,” Buffy said.

 

“I know my poetry is bad, Miss Buffy,” William said with resignation.

 

“Then why do you continue to write it?”

 

“Because…because I like to. I suppose that’s pretty foolish, but that’s the way I feel about it.”

 

Buffy smiled warmly. He was reminding her very much of Willow now. And Tara, too. Shy, but kind of gutsy.

 

“I think it takes a lot of guts to keep at something you like, even though you suck at it,” Buffy said, hoping to cheer him up.

 

He made a sour face at her.

 

“It was the word ‘suck’ this time, wasn’t it?” She then paused a beat, not really waiting for a response. “All I can say is, when you’re on the frontier fighten’ vampires and doin’…frontier stuff, proper language is not a top priority.”

 

“Obviously,” William agreed, quirking an eyebrow at her in an almost Spike-like fashion.

 

Buffy laughed.

 

William wasn’t entirely sure what to make of her. But he was flattered that she seemed to be enjoying his company so much. He found he was enjoying her company as well. She was treating him like he was somebody.

 

“So what do you do?” Buffy asked, getting back to the original subject.

 

“Oh, my family owns an orchard and a vineyard. I inherited them from my father. I don’t do much of the running, though. I have people hired for that. I’m just required to make my rounds and check up on them every once and a while,” he answered. “Mostly I just write my poetry and make calls.”

 

Buffy nodded her head in approval. “Hmm, nice. I just sit around and collect my inheritance, being bored out of my mind most of the time.”

 

William was slightly taken aback.

 

“And your roommates?” William asked.

 

“Willow and Tara? Pretty much the same thing, but I think they’re less bored. They like to do needlepoint and reading and cooking. Not that I don’t like to read. It just gets boring sitting around all the time. Just about the only excitement I get is when I try to cook, because something almost always goes up in flames. But then, that’s a little too exciting.”

 

William covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle his hysterical laughter.

 

“I admire your candor, Miss Buffy,” he said, “Not many women would admit to such disastrous cooking! Is the Willow you speak of- is she the one you referred to in our earlier conversation?”

 

“Yes. And Tara is-”

 

-her girlfriend…no, can’t say that-

 

“-our other friend,” Buffy finished. “We’re all in the same situation, so we thought we would stick together.”

 

William nodded.

 

The coach came to a halt.

 

“Ah, it looks like this is my stop, Miss Buffy. It was very nice to meet you. And thank you for riding with me and- and saving my life.” William bowed to her slightly in his seat, then opened the door to get out.

 

“Wait!” Buffy said as she tugged on his sleeve before he was out the door. “Do you have a pen and paper? I’m sure you do,” she prodded.

 

“Yes,” he said, after a moment.

 

“I’d like to take down your address, so I can write you a letter, and give you mine, so you write me one,” she explained.

 

“Oh…” William was stunned for a moment. Then he pulled out his pen and parchment and wrote down his address on one piece, and gave her another piece and the pen.

 

“Your handwriting is lovely,” Buffy said before she folded the parchment and stuffed it in a fold of her dress.

 

“Thank you,” William replied, barely audible.

 

She then handed him her own address. “You can also find us at Beacon Park. Our favorite spot is in that little clearing with all the flowering trees. Feel free to look for us there. I’m sure Willow and Tara would love to meet you.”

 

He stared at it dumbly before giving his thanks and exiting the cab. He left the door open, paid for his fair and then asked her if she had enough money to get home.

 

She held her hand up and said, “Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

 

He then bowed again, bid her goodnight, and closed the door.

 

William watched the carriage drive off briefly before turning towards the house. He sighed. He was very late. Mother was sure to be worried. And the events of the evening had been mostly bad. He could feel a thick blanket of depression fall over him again as he mounted the steps.

 

 

8

 

Anne Brighton sat on the parlor couch doing her needlepoint. She would have been up and pacing about if the consumption that plagued her body would allow it. It was so unlike her William to be so late. He was never late.

 

She heard the click of the door as it opened and quickly sat the needlepoint aside and grabbed her cane.

 

“William! Where have you been? I’ve been quite worried!” Anne exclaimed as her son walked in the door.

 

He opened his mouth to say something but stood silent. That’s when she noticed his tear stained face. She made her way to him as fast as possible.

 

“Darling, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you alright?” Anne asked as she put a hand to his cheek. She could see the tears welling up in his eyes again.

 

William was surprised he had any tears left in him. It was silly to go on like this, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. His chest began to hitch as fresh tears ran down his cheeks.

 

“Are you sick? Are you hurt? Shall I send for Dr. Gull?” Anne asked frantically, her concern growing by the moment. “Sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong,” she insisted.

 

Instead of answering, he hugged her to him and buried his face in her shoulder, sobbing. Anne was quite taken aback. Her intuition told her it was an injury to the heart and not the body.

 

“Shhh, shhh,” she soothed as she stroked his hair. “Let’s have a seat and you can tell me all about it. Whatever it may be.”

 

“I’m sorry, Mother. I’m sorry-”

 

She hushed him and led him to the parlor couch. As soon as he was seated she put a hand to his shoulder and bade him to tell her what was the matter.

 

“She- she rejected me! Cecily rejected me! She said I was-” he paused for a hitching of the chest.  “-Beneath her!”

 

“Oh, no- darling, no! How can this be?”

 

William sank to the floor and sobbed in her lap as he wailed, “There’ll never be an addition to this house~! I’ll never find someone~!”

 

“Shush! Nonsense! You’ll find someone,” she said as she stroked his hair and patted his shoulder trying to console her seemingly inconsolable son. Oh, dear! How dreadful! He was probably out sobbing in an alley before he came home if that’s what happened. My poor little lamb. He’s so sensitive. Anne couldn’t help but wonder if she had done her son a disservice by coddling him so much. But how could she not? How could she be cold enough not to coddle the son she loved so dearly? Poor, poor, darling child. How could fate be so cruel. How could that Addams girl reject him so harshly.

 

Anne sighed. What was she to do?

 

“And that’s not even all of it!” William exclaimed.

 

Oh, dear lord! What more!? Anne thought.

 

“Before Cecily rejected me, Charles Gallows had snatched my latest poetry from my hand- the ink wasn’t even dry yet- and read it out loud to the entire group, who then laughed at it and mocked me!”

 

“Oh, no~” Anne put her fingers to her lips in surprise. While it was true that her son’s poetry wasn’t really very good, she was surprised that his friends would be so rude as to mock it to his face.

 

“And then, after Cecily rejected me, I wept- in public!- and fled the party, only to run into a lunatic woman on the street who attacked me.” He certainly wasn’t going to worry his mother further by telling her that the ‘lunatic woman’ was a vampire. He had looked up from his mother’s lap and could tell she was already disturbed enough as it was. “I was saved from harm by an American lady. She was very kind and was the only bright spot to an otherwise wretched evening. I am ashamed to say I wept shamelessly in her presence when I told her what had brought me to the alley.”

 

“There, there,” Anne said before she removed William’s spectacles to clean them. They had become drenched with tears over the course of their conversation. “Well, thank goodness for her, then. I suppose they must raise a hardy woman indeed in America.”

 

William sniffled and nodded his head in agreement. He would have liked to have kept his mind on the lovely American girl, Miss Buffy Summers, but his mind was being pulled by more pressing matters.

 

“Oh, how will I ever be able to show my face in public again? I’m ruined, Mother! Simply ruined!”

 

“Piffle! It will all be forgotten soon enough,” But it wasn’t piffle and it would not be soon forgotten, and Anne knew it. If she was worried about his marriage prospects before, she despaired of them now. Weeping openly at a party would be hard to overcome.

 

Although it wasn’t completely impossible.

 

It was unfortunate that a shy and sensitive personality was not in fashion for a man. It wasn’t even very fashionable for a lady, but a lady could be excused. William is such a good boy. Surely that should count for something, Anne thought.

 

“I’ll never-”

 

“Shh, don’t think on it any more, dear. There will be time enough tomorrow to worry. Just go to bed and get some sleep. I’m sure things will look much brighter in the morning.” Anne brushed the tears from her son’s cheeks with her thumbs before clapping him on the shoulders soundly, signaling that he should get up.

 

William stood and helped his mother to her feet.

 

“I’m sorry, Mum. I shouldn’t be keeping you from your rest. Or causing you such worry.”

 

“Never mind about that. I’m just glad you’re alright and not lying in a ditch somewhere, murdered.”

 

William managed a small smile for her and then helped her up the stairs before retiring to his bedroom for that night.

 

He made straight for his writing desk. If he hadn’t been feeling so tired and drained he would have sat down to write in his journal. But as it was he merely removed the pen and remaining pieces of parchment from his jacket, including the piece with Miss Buffy’s address on it, and stuffed them in the top drawer of the desk.

 

Then he shed his clothes, got into his dressing gown and turned off the kerosene lamp. He slid under the covers and was almost asleep before remembering his spectacles. They were still in his jacket pocket. His mum hadn’t bothered to put them back on his head and had slipped them into his jacket instead. He could see well enough to get around without them. Of course, things did appear a little blurry when he didn’t wear them, making reading most difficult, so he rarely took them off. But he could have gotten by not wearing them most of the time when he wasn’t reading or writing, if he didn’t care about not seeing clearly.

 

William threw the covers back and lumbered over to the chair he had folded his jacket over. He could have just left the spectacles in the pocket, but was afraid that he’d panic in the morning if they weren’t at his bedside table and he’d forgotten where he left them.

 

He should have lit a candle.

 

Since he didn’t, he fumbled around in the dark before finally finding the spectacles and then made his way back to bed. He was lucky he didn’t stumble and break them.

 

When William slept, he dreamt of vampires and his American angel of mercy.

 

 

9

 

William hadn’t left the house for two weeks. He hadn’t made his usual calls and he hadn’t gone to any parties, even though he was still invited to some. He wouldn’t even go out for church on Sunday. Many people were beginning to wonder if he had taken ill.

 

Of course, those who had been at Cecily’s and witnessed ‘the scene’ knew that he was hiding out of shame and probably a broken heart. A few of these folks, like infamous gossip Sally Pritchett, were more than happy to tell the tale to anyone who would listen.

 

“Can you believe William the Bloody actually thought he had a chance with Cecily! Please!” Sally would say after the telling. “Poor thing. You’ve got to feel sorry for him. I’d wonder if he hadn’t thrown himself off a bridge…If my maid Judy hadn’t ran into the Brighton’s maid Lucy and heard that he was alive and well. Although, horribly depressed as you can imagine.”

 

Cecily herself was mortified by the whole fiasco. But what else could she have done. She couldn’t let him think he had a chance with her. She just wanted it all to go away. It was embarrassing being a topic of gossip. And she couldn’t help but feel a little bad for William. She was most relieved that he hadn’t met a bad end over it. Now if only people would stop talking about it.

 

 

10

 

Buffy was disappointed not to have seen him at the park or anywhere else in the past few weeks. Willow and Tara were as well. After hearing about him, they were very curious to meet him for themselves.

 

“I can’t believe it! Human Spike! That is too much!” Willow had exclaimed after Buffy had told her and Tara of the eventful evening.

 

“Yes. And it’s William,” Buffy corrected. “He’d give you a funny look for sure if you called him Spike.”

 

“I hope we get to meet him. He sounds nice,” Tara said.

 

“He was… He kind of reminded me of Willow, back in high school,” said Buffy.

 

“Ah, so he’s a fellow social outcast,” said Willow.

 

“Yep. Glasses, tweed suit, fussy hair. Check, check and check. And of course the supposedly awful poetry. I haven’t heard any of it though. His friends could just be uncultured swine,” Buffy said.

 

“Poor Spike- er, William,” said Tara. Then she furrowed her brow and said, “Hey, wait a minute. Didn’t you once say Spike said he’d always been bad?”

 

“Oh, yes. He’s a complete liar,” Buffy replied.

 

“Or was. Or would have been,” Willow added.

 

“Well, I couldn’t just stand there and let him get killed!”

 

“Of course not,” agreed Tara. “I’m sure Willow wasn’t implying-”

 

“I wasn’t! No implications here!” Willow said.

 

“Did you see Angelus or Darla?” Tara asked, changing the topic.

 

“No, thank goodness. And I hope not to see them. I don’t need that.”

 

“Hmm,” the pair of witches said agreeing.

 

Buffy then turned her head to look out the big picture window of their flat. She got that far off look on her face that Willow knew only too well.

 

“Penny for your thoughts,” Willow offered.

 

“What? Oh, I was just thinking about William.”

 

“Oh really?” Willow said.

 

“You know, she did describe him as ‘kind of adorable’ earlier,” Tara teased.

 

“I was just wondering if he was alright, that’s all,” she huffed. “It’s not like I’m in love with him or anything.”

 

“You do like him, though,” Willow prodded.

 

“Well, of course. He seems like a nice enough guy. And after hearing what his so called friends did to him…not to mention that Cecily girl who ripped the still beating heart from his chest and squashed it flat…Who wouldn’t sympathize?”

 

Buffy then sighed and rolled her eyes at the ‘knowing’ looks she was receiving.

 

“And yes, I suppose he was pretty cute. Not normally my type, but pretty cute nonetheless. And of course he still has those blue eyes and the nicely sculpted face, what with the cheekbones and delicate yet masculine features-” She caught herself. “Not that I was ever attracted to Spike! No! No! No!”

 

“Of course not,” Willow and Tara said with mock certainty.

 

And then, the two witches looked at each other in sudden realization of a possible disaster.

 

“Um, Buffy, did you really say and do all the things you said you did?” Willow asked.

 

“Yeah. So?”

 

“Are you aware that you broke, like, a thousand rules of etiquette? We bought and read all those etiquette books for a reason, Buffy,” Willow chastised.

 

“Hey, he’s the first person I’ve talked to besides you guys and shopkeepers on the street! It’s not like I’ve had any big practice. And plus, I was in Slayer mode and it was Spike- William. It threw me! How could I think of etiquette at a time like that?!” Buffy exclaimed.

 

“But Buffy, you must always think of etiquette,” Tara began, “Victorians, especially the upper class, are very particular and unforgiving of breaches in etiquette. William might forgive the ones you’ve made already, because you saved his life. But he won’t be able to be seen in public with you, if you don’t act like a lady.”

 

Buffy pouted. “How am I supposed to be myself if I have to go around acting all Jane Eyre!?”

 

“Well, if it doesn’t bother William himself, then we can act pretty much like ourselves when we’re in private. Within reason. But in public, you must behave. Otherwise you’ll ruin your reputation and damage his by association,” Tara said.

 

Buffy had then sighed in resignation. She would have to have Willow and Tara help her.

 

Oh cruel world, that has such anal retentive people in it.

 

Buffy now found herself looking for William in crowds. Hoping to see him at the market or on the street, if not at the park.

 

Finally, in the middle of the third week, she decided to send him a letter.

 

 

11

 

William was holed up in his room, head on his writing desk, feeling sorry for himself. His mother had been trying to talk him in to going out again. He knew he was being pretty callow, but he was just too depressed to care. What was out there for him anyway? He was already a social misfit before the incident. Now he would be more of an outcast than ever. And the thought of seeing Cecily again gave him a feeling of sickly dread.

 

He would have been tempted to investigate the park, but what if he saw someone he knew? If they saw him it would at best lead to an awkward conversation, and at worse lead to a session of being mocked and ridiculed. Especially, if the person in question was Charles Gallows or one of his crowd. He didn’t even want to think of encountering or being seen by Sally Pritchett. He shuddered at the thought.

 

He sighed and got up from his desk. He’d been in his room for a while now and ought to check in on Mother. He was almost to the drawing room when their maid, Lucy, stopped him with the mail.

 

“You’ve got a letter from someone wif the strangest name, Master Brighton,” Lucy said in her lower class accent, as she handed the letter to him.

 

William took it and looked at the return address.

 

Buffy Summers

1822 Carole Parkway

London, Britain

 

She had sent him a letter, as she said she would. A small butterfluttery feeling began to form in the pit of his stomach as he opened it. The first flush of not entirely unpleasant anxiousness he’d felt in weeks.

 

Dear William,

 

I hope this letter finds you well. I’ve been looking out for you at Beacon Park and around London, but have yet to see you. Please do seek us out at the park this Saturday. We will certainly be there between 12 noon and 2 o’clock in the afternoon. My friends Willow and Tara are very interested in meeting you. And I would like to see you again as well, of course.

 

Hope to see you there.

 

Sincerely,

Buffy

 

“Huh,” William said, slightly stunned. He read it over a few more times, just to make sure he was reading it write.

 

She really was interested in seeing him again.

 

And while it wasn’t close to anything like a love letter, something about it was very flattering. Had he ever gotten such a piece of correspondence from Cecily he would have near fainted away from excitement. Thoughts of Cecily were pushed aside by thoughts of Miss Buffy as the butterfluttery feeling returned. It was a personal invitation. Just for him.

 

Now don’t get all excited, his inner voice chastised before a smile could fully take hold on his lips. It’s just a letter. Just an invitation to meet with her and her two friends. Doesn’t mean she fancies you or anything.

 

He sighed, the smile fading, but the fluttery feeling remained.

 

He folded the letter back up and put it in his jacket pocket. Then he went to check on his mother.

 

She was sitting on the blue velvet couch doing her needlepoint and humming a tune. The tune broke off as she began coughing. It was a deep cough. Like the kind you get when you go swimming and water goes down the wrong pipe.

 

William handed her a handkerchief.

 

“Oh. William. Thank you,” Anne said as her coughing subsided.

 

William nodded his head and then sat down on the ottoman in front of her.

 

“I- I was thinking of going out tomorrow,” he said.

 

“Oh? Really? What finally changed your mind?” Anne said, much relieved that he would finally be getting out of the house.

 

“I, um, got a letter from Miss Buffy Summers. She said that she and her friends wanted to meet me tomorrow at Beacon Park.”

 

Anne sat down her needlepoint.

 

“Oh, isn’t that wonderful! How sweet of them to think of you! You must send Miss Buffy my thanks when you see them,” Anne said.

 

“Of course,” said William.

 

Anne noticed her son looking a little unsure. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m sure everything will be fine. You’ll see,” she said picking her needlepoint back up.

 

 

--- To Be Continued . . .

 

 

The Slayer & The Poet

Stanza the 2nd

By Sailor Lum

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Disclaimer: The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Same goes for any characters from Angel that should appear. Any other characters are mine and may be used for other fanfic (Just note that they’re mine if you use them.)

Content rating note: This fic is rated PG-13.

Continuity note: Follows Stanza the 1st. This story takes place in an AU season 6, in which Buffy didn’t die at the end of season five. This is only important to know for Buffy and the girls’ state of mind since this is set in 1880. Spoilers for “Fool for Love” and a little “Lies My Parents Told Me.”

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1

Beacon Park was bustling that Saturday afternoon. It wasn’t the largest park in London, but it was of fairly good size. It made William nervous that he would see someone he knew. Besides Miss Buffy, of course, whom he was looking for.

He looked through the crowd trying to first see if there was anyone from his circle that he would need to avoid. If he saw Charles or Sally, he would have to go and write a letter of apology to Miss Buffy for not meeting her.

So far, so good. He hadn’t seen anyone familiar.

Then he spotted her, just where she said he would be, in the little clearing surrounded by blossoming trees. Her back was turned and two ladies were sitting next to her on the bench. A blonde and a redhead; they wore their hair down like Buffy’s. But, unlike Miss Buffy, their hair was quite straight with very little wave. They were all wearing a similar style of dress, as well. Kind of like medieval princess gowns, with lacing up the bodice, and no bustle in the skirt. How utterly unique, William thought. Like three princesses in a fairy tale.

Willow was the first to spot him. Buffy had described him pretty well and he didn’t look like many of the other guys they saw. Most men around London, especially the upper class, seemed to be wearing dark colors and sporting various styles of mustaches. He was wearing light tweed and was clean-shaven. She suspected he wasn’t the height of fashion. But neither were they.

Tara looked in the direction her girlfriend was, and spotted him, as well. He was rather sweet looking, she thought.

“B- Buffy, is that him?” Tara asked as she motioned in William’s direction near the opening to the clearing. His eyes were cast aside, briefly checking for unwelcome familiar faces.

Buffy turned around and smiled. “Yes, that’s him!”

“Don’t shout out,” Tara cautioned softly. “Just let him notice us.”

Buffy sighed but kept her smile, resigned to the fact that her style would be cramped by stuffy Victorian etiquette.

When William turned his attention back to the ladies, they were all smiling in his direction. He blushed as he realized that they had observed him there already while his head was turned. William managed a small, slightly nervous, smile and made his way into the little clearing. Once inside, he noticed that they were the only ones in it, and that it was relatively concealed from view by the thick ring of trees circling its perimeter.

Upon reaching the bench, he bowed and said, “P- Pleased to meet you again, Miss Buffy. Thank you for your most kind invitation.”

This was Buffy’s cue to introduce Willow and Tara and invite him to sit down with them. But instead she popped up from the bench and said, “William! I’m so glad you made it!”

Willow and Tara mentally cringed. Buffy, have you forgotten your manners already?! Tara sent telepathically.

Damn it! Buffy thought. She gritted her teeth and tried to repair any damage.

“Oh, please pardon my rudeness, William! These are my friends that I told you about. Willow Rosenberg and Tara Maclay.”

Willow and Tara stood up, smiled and bowed slightly saying, “Pleased to meet you.”

William bowed again and returned the greeting. “William Brighton. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Please do sit down with us, William.” Buffy said.

William smiled and sat on the bench next to Buffy. “My- My mother sends her thanks- for saving me that night,” he said to her, his eyes flicking down to the ground as he finished.

“Oh, how sweet! You’ll have to send her my regards,” Buffy replied.

And then Buffy asked, “So, how are you?”

William’s face fell a little but he managed a polite “fine,” even though he had not been fine at all.

Willow’s heart went out to him and suddenly she found herself saying, “Buffy told us all about what happened to you, and I think it’s just horrible, William! Those people had no right to treat you that way!”

And then Willow’s eyes widened as she noticed the flush of embarrassment that spread over William’s face. “Oh, no! I did it! I breached!” She wasn’t supposed to have brought up such a sensitive subject when they’d just met and she was fairly certain she shouldn’t have let on so soon that Buffy had told them of his troubles.

“Ah ha. See, it’s not so easy in real conversation now is it?” Buffy said. “And why don’t you just give him a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it, while you’re at it, by the way.”

Tara shook her head. All their hard work down the drain.

“Oh, no! I didn’t mean to say anything upsetting, William! And we totally understand what it’s like to have something like that happen. We’ve all been social rejects at one time or another,” Willow said, verbally flailing.

“Oh, my God! You’re worse than I am! You are so the pot calling the kettle black!” Buffy exclaimed.

William looked flushed and confused. He was beyond knowing how to respond at this point, although he didn’t think they meant him any harm.

Stop it, both of you. Can’t you see how uncomfortable you’re making William? Tara sent as she gave William an apologetic look.

“I know~ I’m sorry~ I’m just a total spaz~” Willow exclaimed.

And then she turned to William. “I’m sorry, William~! I haven’t met anybody new in months and I’m not always that good at meeting new people to begin with and I sometimes get flustered and say the wrong thing, but I don’t mean to get flustered and say the wrong thing and now I’m making you horribly uncomfortable and I’m making me uncomfortable and now I’m rambling. Somebody stop me.”

Then Willow gasped again. “Oh no, and I’m calling you William and I’m not supposed to call you William yet ‘cause we just met!”

Then Willow turned to Buffy, “I can’t believe it! I read and studied all those etiquette books and now when it comes time to use that information, what do I do- I choke! I never choke!” Willow was almost on the verge of hyperventilating. High School speech class was flashing before her eyes.

William’s heart went out to the redheaded girl. She was obviously trying her best.

“It- it’s all right, Miss Rosenberg. I- I’m not all that good at meeting new people either. I never know what to say,” William said.

“Oh, you’re right, he is very sweet, Buffy,” said Willow, forgetting her panic.

William blushed furiously.

Tara sighed. If only Buffy and Willow had remained calm.

“I’m sorry, William. We’re just a bunch of wacky American girls who’ve been living on the wild frontier for too long. Our social skills have atrophied. We have no sense. We’re senseless,” Buffy said, giving up.

“Do, please, speak for yourself,” Tara said.

“Okay, Tara has sense… And sensibility,” Buffy agreed with a quip, hoping to lighten the mood.

William forgot his embarrassment and chuckled.

“And do you have pride and prejudice, Miss Buffy?” William joked in return.

The three girls laughed at William’s rejoinder, relieved and more than pleasantly surprised by it.

“William, I think you are a kindred spirit,” Buffy declared. “We must all call each other by our first names now. Kindred spirits use first names. Right ladies?”

“Right,” Willow agreed.

“If that’s okay with William,” Tara said.

William nodded his head and said, “Yes.” He was smiling so brightly now, that it lit up his whole face.

It gave Buffy a warm feeling to see him smiling like that. William’s smile was so genuine and innocent. So unlike Spike, who had rarely smiled that way. His smiles had almost always been tinged with slyness or innuendo. There was none of that swagger with William.

Above the little clearing the sun came out, spilling through the trees and lighting up the natural golden highlights in William’s hair. Buffy wanted to reach out and touch the curly locks, to see if they felt as soft as they looked. But that would definitely come off as weird, so she kept her hands to herself.

William was beyond caring about propriety now. Never mind what society might think. He liked them. As strange as the three girls were, he couldn’t help but feel that he was indeed with like-minded people. That they were like him in some way he couldn’t yet place his finger on. He felt that he was even more in tune with them than he had been with the few friends he had managed to make at college.

And he was absolutely taken with the notion of kindred spirits. It had a distinct air of poetry to it. He repeated the phrase in his head, committing it to memory. He would have to make sure to use it in a poem sometime.

William’s mind then wandered to thoughts of Miss Buffy. So beautiful. Glowing and glistening in the sunlight. Effulgent~.

“So, you aren’t going to call the etiquette police on us then, William?” Buffy asked, giving him a knowing smile, and startling him from his admiration.

William blinked. “N- no, it’s rather refreshing, in a way. Your, um, your vigor for life is quite contagious. And it- it’s not as if you’re really rude, per se. Just…a bit unorthodox. Except for Miss Tara who has been quite normal.”

The girls laughed.

“So, you’re saying that Willow and I are weird? Is that what you’re saying, William?” Buffy asked, with mock indignity.

“Oh, no, no!” William exclaimed, flustered and blushing, not having gotten the joke. “I- I just meant- I mean that- I- I didn’t-”

Buffy laughed gaily. “Don’t worry, William. I’m just teasing you.”

“Oh,” William said, still blushing and feeling a little stunned.

“I must say we’re very lucky that William is so understanding and open-minded. I doubt anybody else in London would be so forgiving of so very many social blunders,” Tara said. “And we should also all remember that William is special, and that if we meet any of his friends or his mother or anyone else, we must behave properly. We don’t want to repay his kindness with embarrassment, now do we?”

“No~…” Buffy and Willow agreed, casting their eyes down to the ground.

Who knew Tara was so good with the guilt, Buffy thought.

William was getting that butterfluttery feeling in his stomach again. Miss Tara had called him special. It could have only sounded better coming from Miss Buffy.

Miss Buffy… He’d never met a girl like her, who was so clever and so bold. So beautiful. So full of life. He wanted to pull out a pen and paper and write a poem about her on the spot. He wanted to compare her to spring, or summer. Summer would be perfect, he thought. Her last name is Summers, after all. It’s like fate knew that she would be as beautiful and golden as a summer’s day. Oh, I will have to write that down. But he couldn’t now. He would tuck it away in his memory and do it later.

Miss Willow and Tara are wonderful too, of course, he thought.

He hadn’t known any of them long, but he could tell. He could feel it. He was glad he had come today. He felt wanted.

“Thank you…. Thank you, Miss Buffy, for inviting me,” William said softly, as he looked into her face with gratitude.

Buffy returned his warm look and said, “You’re welcome. Thank you for coming.”

Willow and Tara exchanged a knowing glance. They could practically see the sparks flying between their friend and sweet William. They’d been seeing the sparks fly all afternoon, in fact.

I cannot believe that this sweet man would have become Spike, Willow sent to Tara. The same Spike that once threatened to shove a broken bottle through my face if I didn’t do a love spell. It totally blows my mind.

Buffy sighed with relief. “William, I’m so glad I can be myself around you, without you having to run screaming into the mid-afternoon. If I had been required to keep up the ‘little miss Jane Eyre’ act, it would have seriously dampened my spirits.”

William giggled in response, looking so cute as he did so that Buffy felt a slight flush creep into her cheeks.

“Does this mean I’m off the hook too?” Willow asked.

“Yes, Miss Willow. You don’t have to try so hard with me. Unlike my fellows, I believe there are much more important things than holding people to such stringent rules that inhibit the spirit,” William proclaimed. “I value a good mind and heart above all else.”

“Wow, that’s a unique viewpoint for someone of this era! You’re kind of a rebel,” said Willow.

“He’s a rebel poet without a cause!” Buffy added.

“I have a cause,” William corrected. “I believe in focusing my efforts on things of beauty.”

“Like poetry, right?” Buffy asked.

William nodded his head yes.

“Speaking of poetry, and at the risk of eating another foot, I wondered if you might recite the poem from the party. The one you met Buffy after. If you remember it, that is,” Willow inquired.

William balked. “Um- er- yes- I remember it- but-”

“Willow’s big with the academics. She loves that kind of thing,” Buffy explained.

“I’d love to critique it. And we all love poetry, don’t we?” Willow said.

“Yes, but I think we need to give William some more time to get to know us first. Poetry can be very personal,” Tara replied.

William sighed with relief.

“So, William, are you hungry?” Buffy asked, changing the subject.

“Oh, um, I’m a little peckish perhaps, but not so much that I couldn’t stay and talk awhile longer with you ladies,” William replied, hoping he hadn’t inadvertently sent any signal that he wanted to leave them.

Buffy gave him a little melodic laugh and said, “No, no, it’s not that. We’ve packed a picnic and we wanted to invite you to join us. Willow and Tara made enough. Would you like to join us William?”

“Oh, yes. It would be my pleasure,” William replied, his face lighting up once more.

2

The girls unfurled the great picnic blanket in the middle of the clearing and arranged the food in the center. They had brought strawberries, ham, bread, cheese and pie, all in lovely bowls or other containers conjured by Willow. To drink, they had iced tea kept cold in a steel thermos also conjured by the talented witch.

After they unpacked the picnic, they motioned for William to sit down and eat. Buffy played hostess and asked everyone in turn what he or she wanted on his or her plate. All were sure to watch their manners while eating. Eating with one’s mouth closed and other staples of proper table manners seemed to them a very reasonable rule of etiquette to follow.

William felt a sense of nostalgia, as he hadn’t been on a picnic since he was a small child. It had been a simple affair like this one, with just his mother and father in a field on their estate. He remembered running his hand through the cool green grass while he had waited for the food to be unpacked and served. Then, after they had all eaten their fill, Father would read a favorite poem or passage from a book. Tennyson had been Father’s favorite poet and he read from his works most often. Father would stand and read as if on stage, while he and Mother sat enraptured. William smiled with the memory.

Soon, all the other food was finished and Tara asked, “Who has room for pie?”

“I do!” sang Willow and Buffy as they held their plates out to Tara.

“All right, one at a time. How about you William?”

“Yes, please,” he answered.

After tasting the pie, William declared it to be most delicious, pleasing Tara immensely. She had gone through all the trouble of making it from scratch, after all.

“I wish I could bake pies,” Buffy said, a little jealous of the attention Tara was receiving, more than the skill of cooking.

“Don’t worry, Buffy. You’ll get the hang of it someday,” Tara said.

“Probably,” Willow added, remembering that the last time Buffy had tried to cook something it had burst into massive flames.

“Hey!” said Buffy, indignantly.

William struggled not to giggle, but was unsuccessful. He put his hand in front of his mouth, trying to hide it at the very least.

“I hear you giggling over there, William. But that’s okay~. Go ahead and laugh,” Buffy said with mock drama. And then she gave him a sly smile to let him know she was only teasing and wasn’t really hurt.

William stifled himself nonetheless and gave her an apologetic look.

When the pie was gone and the picnic officially over, the girls began to pack it up. As they did, Willow felt compelled to ask another question.

“So, William, did your parents like poetry, by any chance?”

“Yes. My father especially. Why do you ask?”

“Well, your name is William and there are a lot of poets named William so I thought maybe you might be named after one.”

“Oh, that’s true. I suppose there are quite a few Williams in poetry. I don’t know if I was named after one though. I never really thought about it before,” William said, smiling and looking up in thought.

“Are there really lots of Williams in poetry?” Buffy asked Willow.

“Oh, yes. There’s William Wordsworth and William Shakespeare and William Blake and William Cowper-”

“-And, okay, I get it,” Buffy interrupted before the list could go on any longer.

“Now I think I shall have to ask Mother about it when I get home. Although, I would have thought she’d have mentioned something like that to me before now,” William said.

“So, what does your mom think of your poetry?” Buffy asked, boldly venturing into personal territory.

“Oh, Mother is often the first person I read them to. She always praises them, but I suspect she is just being kind,” William replied.

“Now I really want to hear your poetry, William. I’m just burning with curiosity!” said Willow.

“Don’t pressure him. It’s not polite. He’ll read it to us if and when he’s ready,” Tara said.

“I’m pretty curious too,” Buffy said.

“And I’m not pressuring! I’m just saying,” Willow said.

“It’s really alright. I’m flattered that you are all so interested. Although it’s really not very good,” William said, trying to calm the rising argument.

All three girls gave him a sympathetic look.

With all the picnic supplies packed away, the girls and William stood up.

“Well, I really should be going now,” said William.

“Oh! It’s not because of anything I’ve said, is it?” Willow asked. “I really didn’t mean to pressure you. Honest!”

“No, no,” William said, shaking his head. “It’s just getting late, that’s all. I shouldn’t take up your whole day,” he said, smiling kindly.

“Will you meet with us again tomorrow?” Buffy asked.

“T-tomorrow?” William asked getting that excited fluttery feeling in his stomach again. So soon she wants to meet with me! Oh, dare I even think-

“Or some other day, if tomorrow’s no good…” said Buffy, unconsciously giving him an innocent flirtatious look.

“Oh, n-no, I would love to meet with you t-tomorrow,” William said, surprised he was able to make his lips move at all now that the fluttery feeling was accompanied by a pounding in his chest.

Buffy brightened and asked, “Same time, same place?”

“Y-yes, that would be fine,” William said, trying to keep from smiling like an idiot.

“All right then, we’ll see you tomorrow,” said Buffy, while Willow voiced a soft “yay!” to Tara in the background.

“Yes,” said William. Then he bowed and said, “Ladies, a pleasure.”

The girls smiled and bowed in return.

William then backed away a few steps before turning to leave the clearing. Once he had made it outside and down a ways bit, he stopped and sighed with his hand to his chest. Oh, Cupid’s arrow has struck my heart again! I am undone! William could no longer deny in any part his budding affection for Miss Buffy, nor the hope that she may feel the same way.

Then, to his horror, he spied the dreaded Sally Pritchett out of the corner of his eye. William dashed behind a tree, pressing his back to its trunk and thanking the Lord that he was a thin man. Sally walked on by the tree without seeing him and turned down the path.

William let out a shuddery sigh and beat a hasty retreat home.

3

“So, what do you think?” Buffy said after William had left.

“I think he likes you,” said Willow, grinning widely.

“No~ I mean what did you think of him?” Buffy said, exasperated and flushed.

“I think he’s very sweet. And surprisingly liberal for his times and class,” Tara replied.

“I can’t believe he’s Spike!” Willow exclaimed.

“I know! What did I tell you?” said Buffy.

Tara then bent down and gathered up the picnic basket. “Shall we hail a carriage?” Tara asked as they walked out of the clearing in the opposite direction of William.

“Sure,” the other girls replied.

“You know, Buffy, I think you like him too,” Willow said.

“Of course I like him. I wouldn’t have asked him to meet us if I didn’t,” Buffy replied ignoring the connotation of Willow’s statement.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Willow said giving Buffy a look. “I think you like-him like him.”

“Oh, please!” Buffy said, rolling her eyes and doing her best to look incredulous.

“Oh please, yourself!” Willow said.

They were at the edge of the park when Tara hailed a carriage. After they got in, Tara said, “You know it’s okay to like him, if you do. It’s not like you have to worry about what happens when we find away to get back to our time. Because we aren’t going to. You know that don’t you?”

“I know,” Buffy said. “And please, Willow, don’t go into all that time travel theory with the string and the alternate universes and all that stuff. It hurts my brain.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Willow said, feeling a twinge of dejection, before brushing it away. “Let’s not think about that anyway. Let’s focus on the present, not the past- or future- or whatever. Let’s Carpe some Diem!”

Buffy smiled at her best friend, grateful once more to have her there. And Tara too.

“And you do like him. I saw the sparks. There was major sparkage,” Willow said.

Buffy sighed, rolled her eyes once more, and smiled a little. “You’re just not going to let that go, are you?”

4

On the carriage ride home, William sat in his seat scribbling away on the piece of parchment he’d brought out from his jacket. He hadn’t been able to write a poem since the night of the party. Although he had written a great deal in his journal, he had lost his spirit for poetry. Now that he had a new focus for his art, he wrote with renewed vigor.

Oh! Sweet inspiration doth grow in me!

Her hair like the sun, shines like the sea

And beckons me like a siren.

To bask in her beauty warms my soul

And sets a fire in me like coal.

The embers glow.

He looked over his poem, very pleased with it. Never had the words flown so easily from his pen. He hadn’t had to scratch out one single word.

When the carriage arrived home, he paid his fare and then flew up the steps to his house. He walked briskly to the sitting room, almost jogging, and found his mum there doing needlepoint as usual.

Anne looked up immediately. She had heard him clomping through halls of the house and thought to comment on it, but after she saw the bright expression on William’s face she decided to let it go.

“So, tell me. How did it go?” Anne asked when he stood in front of her.

“Oh, just wonderful, Mother! Miss Buffy and her friends were most agreeable,” William exclaimed.

“Oh, how lovely~! I knew it would work out fine,” Anne said sitting down her needlepoint.

“Yes, most fine, indeed! It was amazing~! They were nice, and clever, and unique and interesting, and one of them, Miss Willow, is into academics and wishes to critique my poetry! Although… I don’t think I’m going to share it just yet. And, Miss Tara was very kind and polite. The very picture of a lady. And Miss Buffy has a wonderful sense of humor unlike any I’ve ever seen! And she- they- all seem to think as I do about things. And they want to meet me tomorrow! Again! Already!” William finished, out of breath.

Anne was tempted to tell her son to calm down, but she was just so relieved to see him finally lifted out of the depression he’d been in over the last few weeks, so she kept her peace.

“Oh, I thanked Miss Buffy for you and she sends her regards,” William said almost forgetting to convey the message.

Anne nodded her head and smiled. “You’ll have to invite them over sometime, William.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” William said and in his mind added, at some point. Miss Buffy and Miss Willow would have to improve their etiquette before he could introduce them to his mother. He didn’t want them to make a bad impression.

“I’m going to go up and write in my journal now, but I have a new poem I wrote on the way home and I can read it to you first. If you want to hear it,” William added.

“I would love to hear it, darling. It’s been ages now since I’ve heard one of your poems,” Anne said, happy that he was writing them again. A sure sign that he was definitely out of depression.

William read the poem still clutched in his hands and then waited for her response.

“Oh, William, that was a magnificent poem! Lovely~,” Anne said clasping her hands together.

As usual it wasn’t really, but the sentiment behind it was good and she was thrilled to have him returning to himself. She had been worried that he might come to take his own life if he went on in his despair much longer. She’d even hidden the morphine, afraid the urge would take him one night and she’d find him dead in the morning. Thank goodness, that’s over with!

After William had given his usual modest reply, Anne asked, “And whom might this new poem be about?” Anne knew that there was always some girl at the root of her son’s poetic inspiration. She just wondered which one of the three girls it was, although she did have a main suspect.

“I wouldn’t presume…” William began as he cast his eyes aside.

“Pifft! Nonsense! Tell me,” Anne insisted.

William continued to cast his eyes aside and said nothing.

“Are you going to make me guess?” Anne asked, giving him a stern look.

“M- Miss Buffy…” William answered softly.

“I thought that might be the one,” Anne said, pleased with this information and eager to meet the girl who had taken her son’s fancy. “Now go along and write in your journal if you wish. I’ll press you no more for today.”

“Thank you, mum!” he said, giving Anne a quick peck on the top of her head. Then he rushed out of the room in the same manner he had rushed in.

Anne shook her head and smiled as she heard his feet falling loud and fast on the stairs.

5

William raced to his desk and pulled his most current journal out of the bottom drawer. He sat down and began to write feverishly of the day’s events. To think, just a few days ago he was in such despair that the thought of suicide crossed his mind. And now life was good again!

Now don’t get too excited, William. There’s no guarantee that she fancies you. You’ve made this mistake before, cautioned the doubting voice in his head.

Yes, I know. I’ll be cautious this time. I know she fancies me as a friend at least, but I’ll be cautious just the same. But not in his poetry. There he would throw caution to the wind as he had done so many times before, pouring his heart and soul onto the paper.

William wrote well into the evening, putting down the day’s events, as well as his excitement for tomorrow’s. He finished by making a note to himself to ask his mother if he was named after any famous poets.

After closing his journal, William took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose. He sighed, got up and began preparing for bed, daydreaming about what tomorrow might bring.

--- To Be Continued . . .

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The Slayer & The Poet

Stanza the 3rd

By Sailor Lum

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Disclaimer: The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Same goes for any characters from Angel that should appear. Any other characters are mine and may be used for other fanfic (Just note that they’re mine if you use them.)

Content rating note: This fic is rated PG-13.

Continuity note: Follows Stanza the 2nd. This story takes place in an AU season 6, in which Buffy didn’t die at the end of season five. This is only important to know for Buffy and the girls’ state of mind since this is set in 1880. Spoilers for “Fool for Love” and a little “Lies My Parents Told Me.”

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1

Buffy, Willow and Tara sat on the bench in their little clearing at the park, waiting for their new friend to show up. The warm spring breeze flowing through the blossoming trees inspired them to sing a little song.

Three little maids from school are we~ Filled to the brim with girlish glee~ Three little maids from school~” all sang.

Everything is a source of fun~” sang Tara.

La la-la la la-la la la la~” they all sang.

I don’t know the line after that one~” sang Buffy.

Three little maaaaids~ from school~” they all finished giggling.

“You know, it’s a good thing no one comes back here,” said Tara.

“Yeah,” laughed Buffy. “Hey, Willow, what time is it?”

Willow pulled a small silver pocket watch out of her dress and said “Fifteen past noon.”

“I think I’m going to get up and see if I can spot William coming down the lane,” Buffy said as she got up and then made her way to the edge of the clearing.

Somebody likes William~” sang Willow.

“You’d better stuff it! Or I’ll come into your room at night and shave your head while you sleep!” Buffy said, a slight flush coming into her cheeks.

“Oooo~ Somebody really likes William,” said Willow, daring to press her luck.

“You’d better not say anything in front of him! I’m serious! Your ass’ll be grass!” said Buffy.

“Buffy, language!” Tara said.

“Oh, what does it matter? He definitely likes you,” Willow said.

“Well, I haven’t decided if I like him that way yet,” replied Buffy.

Willow snorted. “Please.

“Well, it’s kind of weird and complicated. He’s kind of Spike,” Buffy said.

“And he’s also kind of not,” Willow replied.

“Are you afraid he’ll turn into Spike?” Tara asked gently.

No. Not unless he gets vamped. Which is not going to happen. It’s just- I don’t know…” Buffy said, sighing.

“Is it because he looks like Spike? W-Well, he doesn’t really look like Spike but he- he has the same body an’ all. Is that it, Buffy?” asked Tara.

Buffy blushed despite herself and said, “Maybe.”

“Oh~ So if you admit you’re attracted to William, it’s like admitting you were attracted to Spike,” Willow offered.

Buffy didn’t answer, but Willow and Tara took her silence for a “yes.”

“W-Well, Spike was attractive,” Tara said.

Buffy turned to face them for a moment and gave them a slightly quizzical expression. “I didn’t think you guys could tell about that.”

“We can tell an unattractive guy from an attractive one. We’re just not attracted to them,” said Tara.

“Ah,” said Buffy.

“Listen, Buffy. You’re thinking about it too much. If you like him and you’re attracted to him, then go ahead and like him. He’s very nice. Why the heck not? - I say,” said Willow.

Buffy smiled and said, “I guess so.” Then she got a stern look on her face and added, “But you still better not say anything! There’s no guarantee he feels the same way, you know.”

“Okay- Buffy- if he loved you when he was- er, you know what I mean- a vampire, I think I think he’ll love you as a human. Besides, even without that information we can tell he’s totally into you. Right, Tara?”

“Right,” Tara said, nodding her head yes.

Buffy gave them a kind of smirk and then turned back to looking for William.

After a few moments she finally saw him. But he wasn’t on the path. He was ducking behind a tree. She saw him pushing his back into the trunk of the tree and trying to make himself even thinner. Then she noticed him looking behind his shoulder and around the tree. She followed his line of sight and her eyes fell upon a group of well dressed ladies and gentlemen, consisting of two guys and two girls.

The first guy was a blonde with a round face and a handle bar mustache. Like the kind those villains in old cartoons had. The ones that would tie the girl to the railroad tracks and then go ‘Curses! Foiled again!” when the hero saved the day. He seemed to be the alpha male of the group. Buffy had an instant dislike for him.

The second fellow was a dark-haired man with a small, close-cut mustache and a suit almost identical to Alpha Blonde’s. He laughed gaily and seemed to be very enthusiastic about whatever the group discussion was.

In between Alpha Blonde and His Right Hand Man was a brunette girl with ringlet curls piled high upon her head. She was talking excitedly to the two fellows and laughing like the head of the high school snob squad. It was that giddy kind of laugh you’d often hear from people in the midst of having a cruel laugh at someone else’s expense and Buffy took immediate dislike to her, as well.

The other girl was the most prim and proper of the three and had dark curls that were piled all upon her head with little curly tendrils hanging down around her ears. She was also the most quiet of the three and for the most part just walked alongside the group, occasionally answering a question or two from one of the others or offering an opinion when asked. To the casual observer, or the love-struck, she might appear to be just a nice, quiet, and incidentally beautiful girl. But Buffy knew better. There was a haughty air about the girl. She was a Victorian Cordelia.

That other one must be the Victorian equivalent of Harmony, then, I guess, Buffy thought. So, William’s avoiding the ‘in’ crowd. Really avoiding them. I bet they’re that group from the party that was torturing him! I wonder which one is Cecily…Probably, the quiet one. Buffy couldn’t see William going for the gabby brunette.

Buffy stayed in the trees and watched the group pass by. She looked over at William’s tree and saw him take a moment to let out a relieved sigh and collect himself. Poor thing! He’s living in fear of those people! Must resist the urge to chase them down and beat the crap out of them, Buffy thought before returning to Willow and Tara on the bench.

“Did you see him?” asked Willow.

“Yeah, he’s hiding behind a tree from a group of Cordelias.”

“Ooh~ Victorian Cordelias! Poor William!” said Willow.

“I think they might be the group from the party,” Buffy said. “I think I’m going to ask him.”

“Oh, I d-don’t know, Buffy,” Tara said. “M-Maybe you shouldn’t. It might just upset him.”

“I know…but I just have to know. It’s killing me~. I hate them.”

“You don’t even know them,” said Tara.

“And I already hate them,” said Buffy, not budging from her position just because it happened to be irrational.

Then Buffy heard a rustling in the trees and shushed the others. “Here he comes.”

“Greet him nicely first,” Tara warned.

They all turned in the direction of the rustling, with smiles on their faces.

2

William poked his head into the clearing and saw the three girls sitting on the bench and smiling at him like they had yesterday. He smiled back meekly and made his way over.

Hello, William~” Buffy and Willow said in a singsong voice, punctuated with adoration.

William blushed.

Tara sighed and shook her head.

“What?! We said hello! What’s the matter with that?!” asked Buffy, turning to face the source of the sigh.

Tara ignored her for a moment, smiled, and said, “Hello, William.”

“And she’s ignoring me. How rude,” Buffy said turning to Willow.

“No, I must greet William first, and then he must greet us, and then we can discuss a topic,” Tara explained calmly but not without a little exasperation.

“Oh,” Buffy said, turning forward in her seat and folding her hands in her lap. “My bad.”

William’s mouth twitched up into a nervous smile as all attention turned to him again. William could feel the heat of the flush on his face and when he opened his mouth to speak his greetings, no words came out.

“Listen, why don’t we just skip the greeting and you can go ahead and sit down. We’ll just pretend you said hello,” Buffy said, as she rose from the bench and made her way over to William. She grabbed his hand and led him to the bench.

Before he knew it, he was sitting down on the bench with Miss Buffy and the other girls, and Miss Buffy was still holding his hand. Now along with the hot flush on his face he had the fluttery feeling in his stomach and the pounding in his chest. It made him feel dizzy and he was glad to be sitting down.

“Buffy!” Tara whispered. “Buffy, let go of his hand! Let go of his hand!”

Willow kicked the side of Buffy’s shoe with her own, grabbing her attention. Let go of his hand! she sent.

Buffy looked down at her hand holding his and went, “Oh,” and let go. “Sorry, William.”

William rather wished she hadn’t let go, but then again without her hand around his he could think again. Sort of. “Um…uh…th-that’s alright…M-Miss Buffy…” he said.

“Boy, is it hot out here or is it just me?” Buffy asked lamely, taking out her fan and fanning herself with it.

“You look hot too, William,” Buffy added and then turned her fanning in his direction.

“*cough*Freudianslip*cough*” Willow said fake-coughing into her fist.

Buffy kicked her heel back into Willow’s shoe.

The wind blowing onto William’s face and through his hair from Buffy’s fanning did nothing to decrease his heat, but did give him a shiver, nonetheless. She was smiling at him like no woman had ever smiled at him before. She smiled at him like she meant it.

He would have confessed his love right then and there if that doubting-yet-sensible voice in his head hadn’t spoken up. Don’t even think about saying it, you fool! This is only the third day you’ve met with this woman! Are you mad?! Even a woman as nice as Miss Buffy would laugh in your face! Imbecile!

“Buffy, stop that. That’s not right,” Tara said in a soft yet stern voice.

Buffy stopped her fanning and brought her fan down to her lap with a pout. “I can’t fan him, I can’t say hello to him…What can I do to him?!” Buffy asked.

Willow dissolved into a giggle fit. “I’m not even touchin’ that one,” she said and then melted back into giggles.

“And what was wrong with that hello by the way?!” Buffy asked.

“Yeah, I wanna’ know that, too!” Willow chimed in, stopping her giggle fit.

Tara sighed and summoned the last of her reserves. “Okay, well, I said ‘Hello, William’ like a normal person and you two said ‘Hello, William~’ like giggly school girls with a crush.”

“Well, I didn’t mean it that way~” Willow protested. “I don’t know about Buffy, but-”

Buffy shot Willow a killing look.

“Hey, I’m not a mind reader!” Willow said, with mock innocence.

Before Buffy could reply and make things worse, Tara stepped in. “Okay, that’s enough. I think we all owe William an apology. William, I beg your forgiveness for this horrible scene.”

“What horrible scene?!” Buffy and Willow asked.

“The scene that is still continuing at this very moment since you two won’t stifle yourselves and behave. William has hardly been able to get a word in edgewise with you two arguing and sniping at each other and me.”

“Well, William is free to speak. Go ahead, William. Weigh in,” Buffy said.

William had a distinct look of ‘deer caught in the headlights’ about him.

“Okay, we’ll come back to you,” Buffy said, like she was just doing a nice little talk show.

“No.” said Tara. All heads turned her way. “You and Willow have had the floor all day and now it’s our turn. William and I. And you two are going to sit there and be quiet and not speak again until spoken to.”

“Wow,” said Willow, impressed by her girlfriend’s newfound assertiveness.

“But-” Buffy began.

No. You put me in charge of etiquette and I’m putting my foot down.” Tara gave them a stern, unmoving look.

Buffy and Willow gave each other a look then turned to Tara and made the ‘zip it, lock it, and throw away the key’ motions across their mouths. William gave this action a puzzling look.

“Okay, now scoot down so I can talk to William a little more easily.”

The two girls looked as if about to protest but did move when Tara got up. They pouted as they scooted down the bench.

“Don’t pout. It’s not ladylike,” Tara scolded as she sat down in the spot next to William.

“I again beg your pardon, William. They mean well, but seem to be having a case of poor impulse control today. Please forgive us,” Tara said.

William flicked his eyes between Tara, and the two girls who were now giving him sad puppy dog looks. “Of- of course,” William replied, looking at Tara shyly.

Tara took a calming breath, smiled at him, and then asked, “So, how are you doing today, William?”

“F-Fine… I th-think.” replied William. “And h-how are you?”

“I’m well, thank you for asking.” Tara said. “We’ve brought another picnic today. Would you still like to join us?”

“Y-Yes, it would be my pleasure,” said William. “Um, Miss Tara?”

“Yes?”

“I- I’m not mad at anyone. R-Really. I’m just nervous, because I’ve never been paid this much positive attention by anyone other than my mum. No one’s ever gone through so much trouble for me before. And you’re all so very sincere. I’d much rather have your sincere attempts at making me feel welcome, than the cold but technically perfect politeness I get from my peers.”

Buffy and Willow put their hands to their chests and gave a whimpering “Aww~” sound in William’s direction.

“Thank you, William. That’s very sweet. I think it’s safe to say we’re all very touched,” Tara said.

Buffy and Willow nodded their heads yes.

Tara could sense that Buffy and Willow were about ready to explode from wanting to speak, and so motioned for them to go ahead.

“How could those people at the party be so mean to you?! You’re just the sweetest thing~! Are they just evil, or something?!” Willow exclaimed.

“Well, as someone who was once part of the popular crowd, a long time ago and far, far away, I can say that I think that they’re just blind idiots. With maybe some insecurity issues. Although, they could be evil, too,” Buffy said.

Buffy got a toothy smile from William as he said, “I don’t know about anything else, but I think they’re definitely blind idiots.”

The girls laughed and returned his toothy grin with their own.

“You go, William!” Buffy exclaimed.

“Go where?” William asked.

“‘Go where?’…What a card!” Buffy laughed.

“No, I think he just doesn’t know that figure of speech,” Tara said and then turned to William. “What Buffy means to say is ‘Way to go. That’s the right idea. Keep it up.’ That sort of thing.”

“Ah,” William said, nodding.

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” said Buffy, “but all this social blundering has worked up an appetite. What say we eat?”

3

William sat on the big picnic blanket with the girls, feeling very full and contented with food and company. The girls didn’t pack the supplies away immediately after eating this time, and instead just sat there with him engaging in small talk and pleasantries.

William basked in his feelings of acceptance.

“So, William, did you ask your mom if you were named after any famous poets?” Willow asked.

William laughed. He’d almost forgotten about that. “Yes, I did this morning. She said it was just a name she and my father happened to like.”

“Oh. Well it’s still an interesting coincidence,” Willow said. “You know, I looked up the meaning of the name William and guess what it means…”

“I haven’t a clue. What?” asked William.

Protector! Isn’t that cool?” Willow exclaimed.

“Cool?” William asked giving Willow a quizzical expression.

“It means ‘neat’ or something like that,” Tara explained.

“Our town had very many interesting expressions,” Buffy said.

“So I’ve come to discover,” William said smiling. “Protector…I like that.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Buffy said clasping her hands together. “At the risk of getting yelled at by Tara, I have something I want to ask you, William. It might be a touchy subject though. Is that okay?”

“Um, uh, alright…I suppose,” William said, feeling nervousness creep back into his system again. After all, the last time a woman asked him a question like that, it did not end well.

“Okay, I saw you hiding behind a tree from a group of people and I was just wondering if they might have been the people from the party? I’ve been dying of curiosity all day,” said Buffy.

“You- you saw me?” William asked, horrorstruck that she had witnessed his callow hiding firsthand.

Upon seeing William’s horrified expression, Buffy knew that maybe she should have listened to Tara, but it was too late now. Might as well press on.

“Yeah, I was looking forward to your arrival so I peeked out of the clearing to see if I could see you coming down the path. I’m not always big with the patience.”

Willow and Tara snorted.

Buffy shot them an annoyed glance before continuing.

“You looked pretty, um, freaked out,” Buffy finished.

Oh, God! What must she think of me?! William thought frantically. How can I ever recover from such a callow display?! Oh, God~!

“You know, you looked kind of like how you look now…” Buffy said, feeling very bad that she was the cause of this one.

“Okay, Tara, now you can yell at me,” Buffy said, putting her hand to her forehead. “For I am Buffy, Queen of the Moron People. All bow down before my superior stupidity.”

Willow and Tara stifled their giggles, which wasn’t hard to do with William looking like he had just had his guts ripped out and shown to him.

“I think you underestimated the whole male pride aspect. Which we did too, or we wouldn’t have let you ask,” Willow said.

“W-Well, I never really thought it was a good idea,” said Tara.

“I’m sorry, William! I didn’t mean to embarrass you!” Buffy said, feeling frantic to repair the damage.

“We all oughta’ have ‘I’m sorry, William’ tattooed to our foreheads~” Willow said, pointing to her own forehead for emphasis.

“And we all understand~! We don’t think any less of you~!” Buffy continued. “Do we!? Do we, girls!?” she asked.

Willow and Tara shook their heads, “Nuh uh!”

William looked down and held his hand to his chest, shamefaced. “I- I am deeply shamed~! Deeply~! My apologies that you had to witness such a shameful display, Miss Buffy~!”

“Oh, no~!! Don’t be deeply shamed~!” Buffy said. Crap! Crap! Crap! Now what do I do~?!

In desperation, Buffy grabbed William by the lapels and looked him straight in the face. “Please, don’t be deeply shamed, William~! I don’t want to be responsible for that~! I’m begging you~! Don’t be shamed! Don’t be shamed! I’m not ashamed of you so why should you be?!”

For a while there was nothing but silence as Buffy stared into William’s stunned face, her eyes wide and desperate.

“Besides, she’s already seen you cry. In terms of male pride, isn’t that just as bad if not worse?” Willow reasoned.

“I- I suppose that’s right,” William said, casting his eyes aside.

Buffy let go of his lapels with a sigh of relief.

“I suppose it’s not much more possible that you could think any worse of me than you already did before,” William said, looking down, as if all the wind had gone out of his sails.

“William, you’re missing the point,” Buffy said, grabbing his hand and holding it between her own two hands.

He looked up at her with heartbreaking vulnerability.

“I never thought less of you to begin with,” she finished.

Buffy smiled at him and rubbed his hand for emphasis. William flicked his eyes down to his hand in hers, and then back up to her face again. He could feel his own face begin to flush once more.

“I like you, William. You’re a good man,” Buffy said.

“-And a good man is hard to find!” Willow and Tara chimed in.

Buffy gave them a slightly annoyed look.

“You were expecting us to just let that lie there?” Willow asked.

Buffy rolled her eyes at them and then turned back to William. “Anyway, I just feel bad for you, William. No shame involved. I sympathize, and so do Willow and Tara. We just want to- to-”

“-be able to talk with you and be here for you in your time of need,” Willow continued. “Because, we like you-”

“I already said that,” Buffy said.

“You didn’t include us,” answered Willow before continuing to address William. “-And you’re our friend,” Willow finished.

William looked around his new circle of friends and gave them a small but heartfelt smile. “You are true friends,” he said softly.

“That’s right, and don’t you forget it!” Buffy said, as she gave his hand a small squeeze before letting it go. William’s fingers immediately missed the sensation of her hand.

“And I know I’ve hidden from the dominant social group a time or two hundred,” Willow said. “I used to hide from Cordelia behind the water fountain all the time during freshman year. A word of advice by the way, if they catch you hiding, be ready with a good excuse. Otherwise, it’s total humiliation. You could just say you’re resting against that tree out there.”

“And this Cordelia you speak of…she was part of your social circle?” William asked.

Willow laughed. “Oh, no way!” Then she said, “Well, actually she was for a bit. But that’s a long story. Cordelia was the most popular girl in school. The Big Snob on Campus. I, on the other hand, was one of the geeks. Mousy Willow Rosenberg. We were like at opposite ends of the social spectrum.”

“Ah, so she was a school acquaintance,” William said.

“Yeah, and she was a total B’,” said Willow.

“A bee?” inquired William.

“No, B’ as in the letter B. It stands for something,” Buffy explained.

“Rhymes with witch,” Willow added.

Being a poet, William didn’t have to think about it too long before he guessed its meaning. “Oh…I see…” he said raising an eyebrow.

Tara just laughed and shook her head. “Do you see what I have to put up with, William?”

William laughed and he gave her a bright smile.

“So tell us a little bit about your torturers, William,” said Willow.

“Yeah, who’s who in that snob squad I saw you hiding from?” Buffy asked. “I gave them all cute little names in my head, but I’d like to know who they really are.”

“Cute little names? Dare I ask?” William giggled.

“Yes. There’s Alpha Blonde, His Right Hand Man, Snob Squad Mouth and Cordelia The Sequel.”

William dissolved into hysterical fits of laughter. He ended up doubled over, holding his stomach from laughing so hard, with tears streaming down his face. When he was finally able to speak again he said, “Those names are rather apt!”

“So, who’s who and what do they do?” Buffy asked.

“Well, Alpha Blonde must be Charles Gallows. He’s the fellow who read my poetry aloud at the party and led in the mocking of it. He said he’d rather have a railroad spike driven through his head than listen to any more of its kind.”

“Wow, I bet that would have come back to bite him if you’d become a vampire,” Buffy said laughing.

“Oh, God!” William laughed. “I wouldn’t have done anything that ghastly, I hope!”

“You would have if you were a vampire, I bet,” said Willow.

“Well, I’m certainly glad I’m not one, then!” laughed William.

“Yeah, I bet you’d have been a scary vampire, William. Just think if you were passionate about killing people instead of writing poetry. You’d be called William the Bloody for an entirely different reason then!” Buffy said, winking at Willow and Tara.

“Oh, my!” said William laughing. “Oh, my! That would have been simply dreadful!”

The girls tittered and asked him to go on with his descriptions.

“Let’s see…His Right Hand Man would then be Sawyer Atwood. He was also part of the group that actively mocked me at the party. I knew both Sawyer and Charles at Oxford and at boarding school and they were thick as thieves then just as they are now.”

“Bet that was a fun campus,” Buffy said.

William gave her a quick giggle before continuing. “The Snob Squad Mouth-” He broke off for a short fit of giggles. “-must be Sally Pritchett. She’s a notorious gossip. She’s the one at the party that repeated how I was known as William the Bloody, knowing fully that I was well within earshot. I had only just walked around her, in fact, when she said it.”

“What a total B’!” Buffy said.

“Yes. And no one is safe from her gossip. She’s just much more discreet when she gossips about the more popular people and would never gossip about them in their presence. Not where they could hear her, anyway.”

“So, she’s not just a B’, she’s a queen B’,” Willow said.

“Well that leaves us with Cordelia The Sequel. I’m betting she’s Cecily,” Buffy said.

William sighed. “Yes, Cecily Addams. You’ve heard all about her.”

“Yeah, well she’s a B’ too,” Buffy said. “But I can see where you made your mistake in judging her, William.”

William gave her a puzzled look, and raised an eyebrow to let her know he was interested in hearing her explanation.

“If the way she acted in the brief moment I saw her is any indication, she’s all nice and quiet most of the time. Lulling you into a false sense of security. Until you cross her path and then- wham! - Out comes the venom! It’s the quiet ones you’ve got to watch out for, William.”

“Yes, that seems to be the case, Miss Buffy,” William said. “I thought- I thought that she was like me. Shy and polite. And that maybe- maybe she didn’t make fun of me because she liked me. But I was a fool to think such a silly thing. Although…I’m a good man, am I not?”

“Yes,” the girls said nodding their heads.

“Is there something wrong with me then? That she wouldn’t even give me a chance? That- that makes me…beneath her?”

“You are so not beneath her, William! That is total crap!” said Buffy.

William and the other girls gasped.

Buffy!! Language!” Tara exclaimed.

“Sorry, but that’s what it is! The nerve of that stuck-up…snobby…expletive deleted!! Beneath her indeed! She wishes you were beneath her! She should be so lucky! I’d just like to hunt her down like a dog and kick her into the next millennium! Makin’ a nice man like you cry…that’s not right!”

“It’s the cowboys! I blame the cowboys! They swear!” Willow said, trying to explain Buffy’s vulgarity.

“Oh, Buffy,” Tara said, shaking her head.

“Please! Don’t sully your lips with vulgarity on my account, Miss Buffy!”

“Sorry, I just hate that Cecily Addams so much! I loathe her! With the white hot passion of a thousand burning suns!”

“Goodness!” William exclaimed. Then a smile began to creep onto his lips despite his best efforts.

“Well, William, at the end of our visit, I was going to ask you if you wanted to make this an everyday event, but now I’m not sure you’d want to,” said Tara, sighing with exasperation.

“E-Everyday?” William asked.

“Yeah, since we come to the park at the same time almost every day, we figured we could make a regular meeting of it,” said Buffy.

“A-A standing invitation? Oh, that would be lovely!” William said.

“It would?” the girls asked.

“Yes, I stand by my earlier statement about sincerity verses etiquette.”

“Yay! This means we get to see William everyday! Unless one of us can’t make it; then we send a letter,” Willow said.

“Now we all stand for a group hug!” Buffy said.

The three girls stood immediately.

“P-Pardon?” William asked.

“A group hug. Watch,” Buffy replied.

“Group hug!” the girls exclaimed as they hugged each other all at once.

“See?” Buffy asked.

William stood up, but wasn’t sold on the idea of a group hug. It didn’t seem appropriate to hug just one of the women, let alone all three at the same time.

“Come on, William. It’s not like we’re asking you to have an orgy or something,” Buffy said.

William knit his brow in unbelieving shock that Miss Buffy would even know what an orgy is.

Willow and Tara laughed.

“Well, it’s not!” Buffy exclaimed. “It’s just a nice, innocent, group hug between friends.”

“Um…” William said.

Even Tara could not deny the call of a group hug and all three girls moved forward on William, circling him in a warm hug.

“Group hug!” they exclaimed as they hugged him close.

William was too stunned to hug back. So much womanly flesh pressed against him. And then it was over and the girls began to pack up their picnic. After they were done, they found William in exactly the same spot, just as they left him.

“Maybe the group hug was a bit much,” Willow said.

Unfazed, Buffy said, “So, we’ll see you tomorrow?” She put her hand on his arm and unconsciously gave him an adoring look.

William managed to nod his head yes.

“Okay, we’ll see you tomorrow then!” Buffy said cheerfully.

William nodded his head again and then remembered his manners. “Ladies, it was a pleasure. Until tomorrow,” he said bowing.

The girls smiled and bowed back.

4

William left the little clearing feeling dazed. So dazed in fact, that he didn’t even bother to check to see if anyone he knew was about before leaving the clearing and walking on the path.

She hugged me~! And touched my arm~! And held my hand~! Twice! William replayed every touch given to him from Miss Buffy in his head. And then he remembered that those weren’t the first times she had touched him either. He added the memory of her hugging his arm to her on the first night they met to his memory loop, and sighed.

And I get to see her everyday~! William thrilled at this thought. He enjoyed the company of Miss Willow and Tara as well of course, but it was Miss Buffy he was in love with.

Soon, William walked right by Charles Gallows and the others, oblivious to their reappearance at this side of the park.

They certainly noticed him, however.

Charles spun around and grabbed William’s shoulder, turning him to face the group.

“William! You’re out! We thought you might be dead!” Charles said with a mocking bluster.

“Indeed, William! We were quite worried!” Sally said, curving her lips into a wicked smirk.

“What have you been doing with yourself?” asked Sawyer, in an obviously condescending tone.

Cecily turned her head, refusing to look at him directly. At first she had felt sympathy and a little regret about being so harsh with him, but with all the gossip she’d been forced to endure over the past month, she’d eventually lost her sympathy for him. If only he hadn’t written those dreadful poems~! It’s all his fault I have to endure such embarrassment~! What kind of a fool is he to think he had a chance with me anyway?! Now all I ever hear is ‘How is William? Have you seen William, yet? Neither have we. I wonder if he’s committed suicide over you. Poor thing. Ha ha ha ha ha.’ It’s intolerable!

It took awhile for William to register what was happening. Fortunately, he didn’t have the mental energy to work up much of a panic. Most of his brain cells were still in shock from the wonderfully strange day he’d had.

William blinked at them a few times and then said, “I- I’ve been under the weather,” in a small voice.

“Oh, really?! That’s too bad, William. What did you have?” asked Charles.

A broken heart, you sadistic twit! William thought.

William swallowed and tried to think of something- anything to say. “S-Some kind of flu, I suppose.”

“That must have been some flu~!” said Sawyer, smirking.

“Poor~ William,” Sally said with mock concern plastered on her face.

“I- I’m still not feeling quite up to par, so I really must be going home now,” William said, hoping to escape the conversation quickly.

Charles wasn’t about to let William go so easy. “But, William! You haven’t even said hello to Cecily yet!”

Cecily huffed and walked away from the group, while the rest of the Snob Squad laughed gaily.

William gave them a sour look and found that he wasn’t destroyed like he thought he would be. If this had occurred two days ago he surely would have been, but now he didn’t care so much. It still hurt and he was still humiliated, but he didn’t feel the need to throw himself off the Magazine Bridge. At the very least, he now had friends that cared about him.

“I really must go,” William said as he turned on his heels and walked away.

The Snob Squad laughed like demented hyenas behind him.

5

“Buffy and William sittin’ in a tree~”

“Shut up~.”

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G~”

“I mean it!”

“First comes love~ Then comes marriage~ Then comes a baby in a baby carriage~.”

“Guys~!” Buffy whined.

Willow and Tara cackled.

“You like him~ You love him~ You want to have, like, ten million of his babies~,” they teased.

“What are you?! Twelve?!” Buffy asked.

Willow and Tara continued to playfully tease Buffy throughout the entire carriage ride home.

6

“You were gone a little longer today,” said Anne, smiling at her son who had just returned home and was now standing in front her in the sitting room.

“Yes, I had a lovely time, Mother! And they have given me a standing invitation to meet with them at the park everyday! I think I have finally found a group of true friends to call my own!” William said, beaming down at her. He had decided to gloss over any difficulties.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, darling!” Anne said capturing her son in a hug. “Simply wonderful! You must invite them over!”

William cuddled her close and said, “I will, Mother.” Then he pulled back to face her and said, “But not just yet. It would seem much too forward.” It wouldn’t really, not to them, and they’d accept if he asked, but it was a good excuse to give them some time to work on their etiquette.

“Of course, you’re right. I don’t know what I could have been thinking. You’ve only just begun your friendship with them and they aren’t men, after all,” Anne said, well aware that it was strange for her son to have made friends with a group of all women, and that women did not usually call on unmarried men in their homes.

Then Anne thought of something she’d been meaning to mention yesterday. “William, you mustn’t forget your other social obligations. You need to start making at least some of your regular calls. We can say you’re feeling a bit weak from illness and only have the strength for a few. But you mustn’t appear to be snubbing your entire social circle.”

William let out a sigh. “I know. You’re right, Mother. Perhaps I’ll call on the Pemberton household tomorrow after I meet with my friends.” My friends. It felt good to say it.

“Yes, that would be-” Anne began before a fit of coughing took her.

William quickly brought her a handkerchief and helped her back to her seat on the couch.

“Would you like me to stay a bit with you?” William asked.

“Yes…and would you mind perhaps…playing the piano for me? I haven’t heard you play in so long,” Anne said.

“As you wish,” William replied giving her a small smile.

He made his way over to the piano and began to play ‘Early One Morning.’

7

Buffy lay in her bed that night, staring up at the canopy and thinking about the whole William business. She knew that she liked-him liked him, but she was not about to admit it to Willow and Tara yet. If she admitted it, then it would feel that much worse if it turned out he didn’t feel the same way.

It’s not that she didn’t think he was attracted to her. She pretty much knew that. And she knew he at least liked her as a friend. But she worried she might not be marriage material in his eyes and she couldn’t see him dating or courting casually.

I can’t cook, I can’t sew, and I’m neck-and-neck with Willow for The Worst Etiquette Ever Award. And I swore in front of him. Although I guess that goes along with the whole bad etiquette thing.

Buffy sighed.

But I’m pretty.

Buffy sighed again.

She didn’t think William was so shallow as to fall for a pretty face only. Even as Spike, he liked her for more than her looks.

Oh, God! What if he wants an academic type? Well, I’m toast, if that’s a requirement.

Buffy groaned and rolled on her side.

My only hope is sheer charisma.

Then she sat up in bed, a thought striking her.

Wait a minute~ I barely know him and I’m worrying about being marriage material?

Yup, a voice from somewhere inside her spoke up.

Crap. Oh, no. Not that… Dammit! Stupid love. Why’d he have to be so sweet and adorable~? Now if he didn’t love her back, it would torture her.

Well, I guess I’m going to need some Victorian-style advice, so I guess I’ll have to tell Willow and Tara I like-him like him. But I’m not sayin’ boo about love.

And they’ll probably tell me I have to wait for him to come to me. And I hate waiting.

Buffy sighed once more and then finally began to drift off to sleep.

--- To Be Continued . . .

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