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Chapter 5

For a moment he let himself get caught up in the feeling of the petite young lady as she help him closely, her arms encircling him so gently, and he rested his head on her shoulder. He’d never had a lady hold him so closely, other than his mother of course. She felt small, and yet so firm against him. He could feel the curves of her bosom pressing against his chest with every breath, and even the faint rhythm of her heart beating. Or maybe that was his heart beating, he wasn’t quite certain, but the pulse of it was strong and seemed to reverberate through them both. Pounding, throbbing, from is head to his…oh. Oh dear.

“Mmm, hmmm,” he cleared his throat. She didn’t seem to take the subtle hint.

“Miss…. Miss Buffy? Not that I don’t appreciate your gracious gesture, but…”

She still didn’t seem to take the hint.

“Miss Buffy, I hardly think it appropriate for us to be quite so publicly… intimate…” he finished with a whisper.

She leaned back and gave him quite an odd look. As if she were possibly… confused? After a few moments of looking at him so intently that he could feel the heat rising in his face, he desperately needed to be away from her to hide his shame and his blush. But then, her look changed. He wasn’t sure how to describe it. It seemed to him to be rather full of regret. Or was that sadness? Yes, that was it, sadness. And now he was blushing for a whole other reason, as his consternation had him mentally chiding himself for insulting the lady.

“Miss Buffy, I deeply apologize for offending you. It is not that I would not wish to enjoy your convivial society, quite the opposite; but, you see, as a presumptive I feel it is my duty to…”

“No, No, it’s ok,” she said, stepping away from him, and leaving him with a sudden strange sense of loss. “You didn’t offend me. I don’t think.” And now she looked confused again. And in all probability, so did he. This young lady was quite the enigma to him. Her countenance was so open and it left him feeling… curioius.

He’d never been very adept at engaging the gentleladies socially. Which was why he applied himself to his poetry. And yet, he found himself wanting to engage further with this angel before him. The fellows at the club often spoke quite well of these adventuress’, but his mother held them in quite low regard, and that was to say nothing of their status. He was, after all, the presumptive and he must hold himself out to be irreproachable in his standards.

“Yes, well,” He answered her, as he too stepped further away from her. “I do thank you for your assistance but I really must be getting back to mother.”

Just as she seemed to be about to speak, Mr. Xander interrupted them.

“Buffy? I know this is about a seven on the weird-o-meter, but I ran into Warren earlier,” The young man pointed towards his face. “And I think he’s pushing a nine and a half. He’s packing some major mojo, and when I called Willow to see where you were, she thought she had found something and was on the way here to show you.”

That put Miss Buffy into what appeared to be rather grave contemplation, and again he felt at a loss as to what his course of action should be. This was certainly not his concern, but he was also not one to abandon the fair ladies to the likes of ruffians.

“Perhaps you should call the police?” He offered helpfully. “This is, after all, their purpose, is it not?”

They all turned to look at him and suddenly he felt as if he had somehow said the wrong thing yet again.

“William,” Miss Buffy put a hand on his arm briefly before appearing to remember herself and removed it. “I, um, need to go take care of something,” she smiled, but it seemed a forced nicety. One he was quite used to. “I don’t think it will take long. I need you to stay here with Xander and Anya while I do.” She looked at the referenced persons and asked them watch him. Really? Watch him? As if he were a child?

“Miss Buffy, I assure you…”

“Look, Spike!” She tersely bit out, causing him to turn in circles, searching in alarm for the creature that had cornered him earlier in the evening. His mind started racing as he recalled the encounter with the beautiful, no horrible, no… well, both beautiful an horrifying at the same time, creature. Spike, what an odd name for a creature of the night. She’d somehow enchanted him into a trance with words of understanding. She had seemed to almost see straight into his inner being and appealed to his baser needs with promises of giving him something effulgent. He’d thought for a brief moment to escape his drudgery with the woman, and then all he could remember was pain and darkness. She’d apparently stolen his purse and his spectacles before leaving him to the fate of the dark alleys London.

Suddenly, someone seized his arm and he jerked away fearing the creature had caught him again, and suddenly a cacophony of voices were shouting. Shouting at the creature? No. No, they were shouting at him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, William! William! Stop! You’re ok!” He made out Miss Buffy’s voice. “You’re ok,” she repeated more softly. “No one here is going to hurt you.”

He looked around, lost in his thoughts and confusion. Every thought at the moment was so clouded. His fear, confusion, pain, arousal, concern, all warring inside him for dominance, and none of them seemed to be taking the lead. He looked straight at Miss Buffy, pleading with her to understand.

“I just want to go home!”

Miss Buffy looked at him with such sad resignation, he knew her answer before she gave it.

“I’m sorry, William, you can’t.”

“Why? What purpose have you with keeping me here?” His voice was beginning to sound on the verge of whinging, even to his own ears.

At that moment, two other oddly dressed ladies approached.

“Buffy! I think we’ve found something!” The small one with red hair said, seeming a bit out of breath. “We were able to decipher pretty much everything except these,” she said, holding out parchments of some sort.

“They had encoded blueprints and schematics to banks, armored car routes, corporate vaults,” The other lady added.

“They’re looking to score some serious dinero, and we think they’re planning to hit one of them tonight!”

“It’s time sensitive. This is big, Buffy.” The dark haired one again added.

“God, I so don’t have time for all of this!” Miss Buffy said to the others. “I have to go! I can’t stay here and try to explain to him that his mother’s been dead for a century, much less how he got here in the first place. You guys,” She pointed to them all, “Take him somewhere. Call someone. Do something. Heck, call Giles, maybe he’ll know something about his family. Or Willow, work your computer mojo and find a way to get it through to him. While you’re at it, maybe you guys can figure out a way to make him understand that we aren’t an induction house.”

“Introduction house,” Miss Anya corrected.

“I don’t care. Just do it. Figure out some way to explain all this to him while I go take care of Warren. And do something about his head while you’re at it. Nothing says welcome to the 21st century like a bleeding head wound.” She turned away and began marching back to the residence.

“Buffy?” Mr. Xander called after her. “Be careful. Warren’s gone all ‘Mighty Mouse’, emphasis on the might.”

“Good. Then I won’t have to hold back.” Miss Buffy turned back to the residence and solemnly walked inside.

“Ok, color me confused,” The one with the red hair, Miss Buffy referred to her as Willow, spoke, “What’s Buffy talking about?”

“Long story,” Mr. Xander replied.

“Buffy wished Spike out of existence, and D’Hoffran was about to do it, so I turned him into who he was before he was turned.” Miss Anya supplied.

“Apparently not that long.” Mr. Xander retorted.

“Everyone,” Miss Anya waved in his direction, “Meet Lord William Pratt, heir presumptive to the Marquis of Camden.”

William felt himself stretching upright at the use of his formal title, as all of the strange young people turned to stare at him. Yet his thoughts were filled with one very alarming terrible thought that sent a chill through his very soul and gripped his heart in its icy embrace and made him feel as if he were a frightened schoolboy all over again…

“Did she say mother is dead?”





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