CHAPTER TWO
“...You say it was like this/I was torn between two worlds/One full of promise and the truth I knew would hurt/You say I’m no angel/Try to put the past behind/So now I try to find/A place to leave all/Memories in my mind/We try our lives away/And stumble to the gave/We cry and still they say/Past won’t go away/Story of my life...” Kristian Leontiou~ ‘Story of my life’
He woke, flat on his back and staring up at a damp ceiling. In the dim light offered by what appeared to be a few scattered candles, Spike could just about make out the four walls surrounding him; as well as the door and various pieces of furniture.
He sat up quickly; pleased to find himself net-less again.
“Damn Slayer and her damn crafty friends.” he said; rubbing his head as he got to his feet. “Always happy to bollocks up a perfectly good evening.”
After soothing away the pain currently residing in his forehead, Spike made the all too horrifying mistake of glancing down at himself, and groaned in sheer agony as he encountered the glad rags he was now sporting.
“Bloody Hell.” he moaned; glaring down at his tweed clad body, “I look like the bloody Watcher. What have those wankers done to me?”
“Quit moaning.” said an all too familiar voice. “It could be a Hell of a lot worse. Believe me.”
Spike span around to witness the Slayer, dressed in what could only be described as a Victorian style evening gown; complete with corset, petticoats and, yes; the girl had every right to shudder; ribbons.
Before she could even bat a pretty little eye-lid however, he had her pinned up against one of the dank walls; clawed hand clasped around her soft neck as the other wrenched her chin around; forcing her to look up into his golden eyes.
“Tell me what you did.” he hissed into her face; watching her chestnut eyes cloud over slightly with the pain he was inflicting.
“First..ly...” she managed; her own hands fluttering up to batter at his, “I don’t like th... this anymore than you do.” he released his grip; slamming his hands down onto her shoulders; trapping her against the cold wall. Her head lolled forward in instant relief. “But,” she said, hands attempting to rub her neck, “I’m the only one here who knows how to get us home, so, unless you want to spend the rest of your un-life here, then I suggest you don’t try anything else.”
“Why the Hell are we here?” he asked, the pressure on her shoulders increasing slightly.
“Demons planning a massacre in our time,” she explained softly, “We’re supposed to destroy them before they have a chance to form their numbers.”
“Why me?” he asked; his face so close to hers by now that he could feel her worried breath against his cheek.
“Giles said... Said you’re the only one strong enough to help me,” she lied quickly, unable to meet his eyes. “We tricked you here, so you’d have to help me; or else face the prospect of never getting home.”
“And the nancy boy clothes?”
“Fabricated identities.” she explained. “Some aspect of the spell; it means people here think that we’ve existed here all along.”
He stared at her a moment. It seemed to be a pretty tight plan, from which he could see no escape route.
“Tell me again why I shouldn’t rip your pathetic little head clean off your body?”
He felt her quiver.
“Because I know how to get both of us home,” she said with a forced conviction. “And I refuse to tell you what I know until all of the Crowan demon are dead.”
“What?” Spike cried suddenly, letting her go out of pure shock. “Crowan demons? Slayer; those things are tough as iron. How many are we supposed to be taking out?”
“I don’t know.” Buffy said, backing away from him further along the wall, “And for you information I know all about how tough they are. I took one out just the other day.”
Spike snorted none too humorously.
“One?” he repeated. “Congratulations Slayer. I saw you yesterday; practically pulp.”
“Then we’re going to have to work together.” she replied defiantly; refusing to let his direct insult to her fighting abilities annoy her. “Obviously I can’t fight this battle alone; and likewise; you can’t get home without me... So you’re just going to have to help.”
He regarded her for a moment or two; unwilling to confirm his intentions either way. He watched her grow increasingly uneasy, before finally saying;
“So it’s another truce?” at Buffy’s slightly confused look he elaborated; “I scratch your back, you scratch mine. I give you want you want and vice versa? I help you hunt and kill in return for an assured safe journey back to old SunnyD, 1999?”
“Assured.” she agreed quietly.
“Then truce it is.” said Spike. “I won’t let you get killed, and you’ll tell me how to get home once we’re done here.”
Buffy wondered why there wasn’t more conviction behind her nod. Perhaps it was the underlying guilt she hadn’t really expected to feel. Guilt at the prospect of inevitably killing the vampire who just promised to protect her, in the belief that they were both in the same boat. She quickly shrugged the feeling off, however, as he stuck out his hand in a gesture of unity.
She took his firmly in her own and shook it powerfully.
The handshake went on a little longer than necessary and both were glaring toward the end of it. Eventually, Buffy broke away, taking a step back.
“So... Where are we?” she asked.
They both took that opportune moment to have a proper look around at their surroundings. Dark and apparently slimy walls seemed to go on forever in both directions, but when Buffy raised her hands she found that the ceiling was actually fairly low. Her little ‘Oh’ of surprise went unnoticed or ignored by Spike however, who was scrutinizing the objects stacked around the room. Pots and pans and obviously unwanted jumble lying in messy piles gave him the first clue as to where exactly they were. And a staircase as slimy as the walls themselves was his second.
“We’re in the cellar.” he told the Slayer, turning back to her with a self satisfied little smirk. “Cellar of what- don’t ask me. Just know that this here is a cellar.”
“Hmmm.” Buffy murmured thoughtfully, “Definitely has that dank quality about the place. Hope we don’t live in this cellar though,” she added, “That doesn’t say much for Giles’ talents for fabricating false backgrounds.”
“Live in the cellar?” Spike repeated, “In outfits like these?”
Buffy had to suppress a laugh as she took in Spike’s appearance properly for the first time. Strong and well muscled arms were disturbingly concealed beneath a white cotton shirt, covered by a thick jacket of tweed. Sturdy legs transformed into two thick trunks of dingy, brown tweed. His eyes cast down at his body in a moment of insecurity, then he quickly glared back up at her.
“Come on then.” he said. “Time to find out who we are.”
She followed him up the slippery stone steps, keeping an eye on the uneven flooring beneath her the entire time; finding it even more difficult than usual to direct her feet beneath her many skirts.
With a hasty tug, Spike pulled the heavy door open and they both stepped, blinking, into a brightly lit corridor.
“Oh- Lord Webster!” cried a voice, quickly followed by a short, plump woman with honey blond hair curling out from beneath the cap she wore, “We had wondered where you’d gotten to.” she shot a sideways glance to Buffy but hurriedly looked away. “I hope you didn’t find yourself lost once again.” When Spike merely stared at her, dumbfounded, she quickly added, “Really My Lord; that inquisitiveness of yours is wholly alarming at times.”
Buffy nudged Spike and he quickly closed his mouth, offering the woman a small nod before asking,
“If you could just show me briefly to my chambers it would be most appreciated.” This time it was Buffy’s mouth that practically hung open in shock. The politeness she’d heard in Spike’s voice had been something she never could have imagined and for a moment she wondered if she had stepped into a parallel dimension and really was just standing beside ‘Lord Webster’, not the usually rude and obnoxious vampire.
“Certainly My Lord.” she quickly turned back to Buffy; her expression hard as she hissed, “Elizabeth, I’ve told you before about wearing your best clothes; your mother would be spinning in her grave, God rest her soul. Now go and get changed, then get back to work at once.” Then she turned away from Buffy as if she were horrifyingly unimportant, and returned her attention back to Spike, “Apologies my Lord, for the child’s insolence. I’ll make sure personally, that she doesn’t bother you again.”
Buffy looked at Spike, her eyes wide as the scenario just about sunk in. He had a similar expression and for some reason, he didn’t look all the pleased to have been given his beneficial position.
Buffy opened her mouth to speak, when the plump woman turned back to face her; eyes flashing angrily as she indicated with her hands.
“Go!” she hissed; apparently hoping Spike wouldn’t hear. And Buffy had no choice but to scurry away.
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Buffy could feel the tears biting at her eyelids as she ran along the long corridor. She had no idea where she was going, and no hope of knowing. As she rounded the corner she crashed into a young girl carrying a pile of bed sheets and they both fell sprawling to the floor.
Buffy landed with an emphatic ‘ooof’ then waited for the girl beside her to act as angrily as the first woman.
Instead, the girl turned to her and jolted at the sight of her tears.
“Buffy?” she asked, “What’s wrong?”
Buffy was so relieved to hear someone call her by her own name, rather than the ‘Elizabeth’ that hateful woman had labelled her with, she could have hugged the perfect stranger before her. The girl was really quite pretty with wavy brown hair pulled back into a bun and worried green eyes that reminded Buffy instantly of Willow.
“Sorry...” she said eventually, “It’s just... That woman...”
“Mavis?” the girl asked, “Gosh Buffy not again; you said you’d try to keep out of her hair. You know how ratty she gets.”
“I...” Buffy didn’t know what to say, “She told me to get changed.”
The girl looked down at Buffy’s outfit and she couldn’t help the little half smile that appeared upon seeing her friend dressed in her best clothes once again.
“I... wish I had a fraction o’ your nerve.” she whispered eventually, looking up quickly as if checking to be sure that Mavis was listening in, “I dunno’ how you can be so bold in standin’ up to her.” her eyes suddenly grew serious however, and she began folding the bed sheets back into a pile, turning her face away from Buffy. “But it’ll cost you your job if you aint careful,” she said in a warning tone. She turned back briefly before standing and helping Buffy up, “Come on, let’s go find you a clean uniform.”
Buffy followed the girl listlessly down the many corridors, wondering how she had ever managed to memorise the way.
“Here.” the girl announced finally, pushing open a thick door and leading Buffy into a small chamber of rooms, “Mavis will have both of our heads if we’re not back at work soon so you better change fast,” she thrust a light cotton uniform into Buffy’s hands, “Please try not to bother her again today Buffy.” she added in a small voice.
She turned to walk away but Buffy hastily called her back, “Wait!” she cried, “I... I want to tell you something.”
The girl turned around and Buffy regarded her for a moment, wondering whether or not she was as trustworthy as she appeared to be. Her features were open and honest and her whole aura screamed simplicity and an open mind.
“I... I’m from... I’m from the future.”
The girl’s eyes were blank for a moment, then glistened suddenly.
“Oh Buffy...” she said, “I surely do love it when you tell these stories. Where are you from this time?”
Buffy stared at her for a moment then decided that playing along was probably her safest bet.
“The year 1999,” she said, “Sunnydale, California, USA.”
“And what’s your name?” she persisted.
“Buffy Ann Summers.” she replied, then seeing her window opportunity, “What’s yours?”
The girl straightened her back stiffly in a stance that clearly perceived familial pride.
“Sarah Louise Smith.” she said, before smiling warmly, “Sissy to you Miss.”
Buffy smiled warmly back, then nodded at the clothes in her hands. “I’ll be getting changed then.” she said, “See you soon I hope, Sissy.”
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The house was an incredibly beautiful old mansion, as Buffy discovered when she finally got a moment to herself, and was able to trek outdoors and look at it from the outside.
Set back into and surrounded by a thick woodland; the house was both secluded and sophisticated; the highest rooms all but hidden within the treetops.
Buffy found herself struck by the sudden urge to break out into a rendition of Kate Bush’s ‘Wuthering Heights’, remembering the words to the song written for the beautiful nineteenth century novel exactly, and wondering where exactly her Heathcliff had gotten to.
“Oh, that’s right.” She muttered to herself, “I stuck a sword in him.”
She looked back up at the beautiful building, allowing it to take her breath away once again. It really was a sight to behold.
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Buffy blanched when she saw Mavis heading toward her, the look of murder in her eyes.
“Elizabeth!” her voice was so course and Buffy had the desire to shield her ears, “What in Heavens name did you think you were doing, following Mr Webster around like a lost child again. It’s sickening and highly embarrassing. I tell you, if I hadn’t loved your Mother so very dearly, you would have been gone from this house hold a good long time ago.” her eyes narrowed, “You bring a lot of disrespect to your family name young lady.”
Buffy chose that moment to hang her head, hoping that she looked guilty or at least a little ashamed.
“Sorry.” she said, to which Mavis only grunted.
“You will be.” she replied. “Lord Webster has requested to see you in his office.” she crossed her arms, a little self-satisfied look playing on her face. “We’ve had words and I do believe he’s finally seen the light in your case. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you were packing your bags by the end of the day.”
Buffy looked up defiantly.
“Care to escort me to his office?” she asked more than a little snidely.
“Would be my pleasure.” Mavis replied, wholly truthfully. “Follow me Elizabeth.”
Buffy trailed behind the plump woman up a different set of corridors to the ones Sissy had taken her down. She took this alarmingly long journey to properly take in her surroundings. Rich corridors decorated with red and gold; fineries hanging from the walls. Skirting boards coated with gold leaf and light fixtures adorned with candles and glass shaped like droplets of rain. Rich. Spike, or ‘Lord Webster’ must be rich; very very rich.
And Mavis and Sissy, the only two servants she had met so far; both English, although Sissy perhaps a little more common.
The idea that she and Spike had not only travelled time, but also countries, was more than a little unnerving.
Mavis stopped abruptly and knocked on a tall maple door, not bothering to look back at Buffy as she awaited a reply from within.
“Enter!” called a deep and hatefully recognisable voice.
Mavis swung the door open and cleared her voice from the threshold; “Miss Summers for you, my Lord.” she said, sinking herself into a little curtsy, “Do you wish for me to wait.”
“No.” Spike replied with a flick of his hands, “I require to see Miss Summers alone please.”
Buffy saw Mavis’ face brighten with something that looked like excitement; she obviously fully expected Spike to sack ‘Elizabeth’.
“Certainly.” she said, turning curtly and giving Buffy a superior nod, before hurriedly walking away and getting back to work.
“Close the door.” Spike said quietly and Buffy did so immediately without question, almost hesitating before turning back to him; perhaps a little afraid of what she would find.
“You... Okay?” his hesitant question caught her entirely by surprise and she couldn’t suppress the tears as they spilled back to the surface. “Slayer?”
“Sorry.” she said, swiping uselessly at the tears that were coursing down her cheeks, “I guess I’m just in shock. I suppose the sooner we can get this over with the better... Home is looking pretty appealing right about now.”
Spike indicated a chair and she fell into it with a sigh; noticing for the first time that his hair wasn’t its usual platinum blond; still blond but somehow more natural looking.
“Are you still a vampire?” she asked.
He vamped out to answer her question.
“I don’t get why you got the rich story line and I ended up as your servant.” she said, a little calmer now, “That’s hardly justice to the whole good/evil thing.”
“If it makes you feel any better Slayer, this is far from fun for me.” he admitted, at her annoyed expression he hastily continued; “Knowing that I’m supposed to be bossing you around; I’m EXPECTED to boss you around; but at the same time, knowing you’ll well and truly kick my ass for it when we get home.”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed to a glare as she watched him ‘Oh, I’ll do much worse than that’ she told herself, ‘I’m glad this plan really does end with me staking this jerk.’
“And that bitch, Mavis,” he added, “She thinks I called you here to sack you, or at least show you whose boss with my belt...” he noticed Buffy tense slightly at the suggestion, “But actually I wanted to talk about patrolling.” he said hastily.
“Patrolling?” Buffy asked.
“Yeah,” he said, “Well, if we want to sort this problem out and get home as quickly as possible, we’re going to have to be out there every night hunting these things down.”
“You’re right,” Buffy said, sitting forward slightly in her chair, “I hadn’t even thought about patrolling yet to be honest. I suppose the spell would have taken us to about the right location but it could take days, even weeks to track the demons down. Do you know where we are, by the way?”
“Hmmm...” he said, “Somewhere in the South West of England, far as I can gather. Circa 1899.”
“See- that was a bit of a shock to the system.” Buffy said, “I was fully expecting to wake up in the old US of A. I don’t know if I’ll be so strong here; familiar ground; familiar demons and all that.”
“Bollocks.” said Spike. “You’ll be fine. And we’re going hunting tonight.”
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A/N: Please tell me what you think!! All reviews welcomed, and a big thank you to everyone who reviewed on chapter one! All comments were greatly appreciated!
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