[Reviews - 11]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2362 times

- Text Size +




“Oh, my God,” Buffy whispered. “It’s his mom.”

“Didn’t Spike say that he killed his mother?”

“He did,” Buffy replied, speaking to Xander while staring at the woman. “She was sick, dying. He turned her then he staked her.”

“She’s standing in sunlight and she isn’t burning up,” Willow whispered through a large fake smile. “What are you going to do, Buffy?”

“I’m going to introduce myself,” Buffy said, standing up from her chair. She inched toward Spike’s mother. “Uh, hello there. My name is Buffy.”

“Where am I? Where is William? Can you tell me where he is?”

“I’m a friend of William’s and you’re in my house. He isn’t here right now, but he will be…soon. He asked me to look after you.”

The woman was small, frail and clearly scared. She continued to touch her neck nervously.

“I know this place is strange to you, but you’re safe here. Please believe me, Mrs…?”

“Pratt. You may call me Mrs. Pratt.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Pratt.” Buffy wasn’t sure if she should shake her hand or curtsey. Instead she smiled. “William has told me a lot about you.”

“How do you know my son?”

“We met at a…a social gathering. I was impressed by his unique way with words. His poetry…it took my breath away.”

“He has a remarkable gift,” Mrs. Pratt replied as her eyes scanned the room. “He speaks from his heart with great abandon.”

“Yeah, it’s a total shame he wasted all that hot air on Cecily.”

“You…he told you about Cecily?”

Buffy nodded. “He could do so much better.”

“I…” Mrs. Pratt trailed off, looking confused. “I am feeling weary. May I rest?”

“Yeah, uh, of course, you may. You can crash in my bedroom.”

“Pardon me?”

“I have a bed. It’s in my room. Follow me, and I will show it to you?”

Mrs. Pratt surprised Buffy by taking her arm. “I would like one of the servants to inform me of my son’s arrival, whatever the time may be. I must speak with him at once.”

“Servants?” Buffy squeaked, surprised again. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Pratt, but I don’t have servants. I’ll let you know when William is here though.”

As soon as they reached Buffy’s room, she escorted Mrs. Pratt to the bed. “I’m sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.” She paused to move her suitcase and knock her stuffed animal to the floor. “If you need anything, just ask. I don’t want to overwhelm you anymore than I already have, so we’ll take things slow. I guess we should start with the basics. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you, uh, need to use the bathroom?”

“Okay,” Buffy continued when Mrs. Pratt didn’t answer. “There will be time for that necessity stuff later. For the record, I think you’ll really enjoy microwavable meals, scented hand soap and a flushing toilet. Until then…” She handed Mrs. Pratt a blanket from the hall closet. “I will stop bothering you and I’ll leave you with my most cuddly blanket.”

“Please wait.” Spike’s mother called to Buffy before she could leave the bedroom. “Excuse my foggy memory, but what was your name again, dear? Perhaps I will recognize your father’s name. In my younger days, I knew the names of all London’s good standing families. I’m not able to get out as much as I used to. William acts as my eyes and ears now, but you know men, they haven’t the taste for socializing and tittle-tattle as us womenfolk.”

“Well, my full name is Buffy Anne Summers.”

“Anne? Why that’s my given name!”

Smiling, Buffy joined her on the edge of the bed. “From the way I talk, surely you’ve figured out that my family isn’t from London. My dad’s name is Hank, but my mom, Joyce; she raised my sister and me. She was a tough lady, a lot like you probably. Sp—um, William said it’s just the two of you at home and that you’re very close. It was like that with my mom too.”

“My son confides in you?” It might have been her imagination, but Buffy thought Mrs. Pratt seemed a tad more pleased than suspicious. “He’s a good boy, my William. He shouldn’t be alone. He needs a woman in his life.”

“Oh. I, um…”

“I don’t know what your intentions are, Miss Summers, but he deserves a honorable wife.”

“Wife?”

“He’s a good boy,” she repeated, but this time her voice wavered. “He’s never left home before. I’m in this peculiar place and he is nowhere to be found. Perhaps you have no dowry or you family does not approve. Perhaps that is why we must hide here until the elopement is concluded.”

“Elopement? Mrs. Pratt--.”

“I’d hate to consider the alternative for even one moment, that I’m being held against my will, kidnapped for a ransom. William read to me about such a case in one of his serial novels.”

“Mrs. Pratt, William’s a great guy, but I don’t--.”

“Oh, I knew it!” Suddenly the older woman burst into tears. “It was too good to be true! You’re using my son’s kind heart against him! You’re playing with his emotions so he’ll fall in love with you and in return you’ll only seize his inheritance!”

“She got this all off a Victorian cereal box?” Buffy whispered the question under the sound of noisy sobs. “Mrs. Pratt—Anne, please--.”

“Although he tries to hide the terrible truth from me, I am aware that he is mocked and ridiculed in our social circle. And you, Miss Summers, are no better! You—you’re a trollop! You’ve clearly earned his trust and now--.”

Her words dissolved into a coughing fit. Moving fast, Buffy supplied her with a cough drop and Kleenex box. “The tissues are disposable. Blow your nose, wipe your eyes, and throw it away. Okay, maybe not in that order, but this box of bad boys beats a cloth hanky any day. And the cough drop, suck on it, it might help. It has vitamin C and it tastes good. It will soothe your throat.”

“I don’t know…”

“Then don’t use them. I won’t force you,” Buffy said. “I just want you calm enough so you’ll listen. This trollop has something to say. She just isn’t so sure what to say yet…or how to say it.”

Taking a deep breath, Buffy considered her options. She could tell the truth, she could make up a fresh lie, or she could make an old lady happy.

“Damn you, Spike,” she whispered. “You’d give me so much crap about this.”

“Mrs. Pratt, William has confided in me. I know all about his awful poetry and his pathetic life as a male spinster. And yes, I’ve mocked and ridiculed him a lot more than those Victorian bullies, but there’s no need to go all mama bear on me, because I’ve learned the errors of my ways.” Buffy crossed her arms over her chest then she said, “I don’t want to hurt you or your precious son. I love him. I’m trying to find him.”

“William is missing?”

“He’s been kinda misplaced.”

“I don’t understand, but then I only seem to understand half of the words you say, Miss Summers. I must know, is he in danger?”

“No, that’s one thing I can swear to you.”

“And you’re in love with him? Once he is found… If you truly love him, will you accept his hand?”

Buffy looked away, unable to take Mrs. Pratt’s hopeful, pleading eyes. “I don’t know,” she replied. “First, no hand has been offered, and second, Spike and I—Mrs. Pratt, you need to rest. You can give me the third degree about my love life later, okay?”

Not waiting for an answer, Buffy left the room and shut the door.

“It’s no wonder he killed her,” she mumbled out loud as she walked through the hallway. The conversation with Anne Pratt left Buffy feeling breathless and unsteady.

She was still trying to shake off the uncomfortable sensations when she entered the dining room again. Xander and Willow were still around the table, but they were eerily quiet.

“Okay, what did you do while I was gone? Did you conjure up somebody else? What did the handkerchief bring us? His uncle, a twice-removed cousin from his father’s side?”

“Oh, hey! Hi, Buffy!” Acting as if she were caught, Willow jumped in her chair. “How’d it go with Spike’s mom?”

“Just peachy.”

“Is she freaked? Do she swoon? People from her day do that, they swoon all other the place.”

“Guys, what’s going on?” Buffy asked. “Willow’s doing that nervous rambling thing.”

“Buff, you should take a seat.”

Stubbornly, Buffy continued to stand with her arms crossed. “Xander, explain.”

“Well, you told Willow that you thought Spike wasn’t dead. After the spell went wrong--.”

“We did a location spell!” Willow interrupted, talking quickly. “We did it and it said he’s in California, Buffy. But not in Sunnydale. He’s in Los Angeles!”

“What…? But why? How?”

“When was the last time you spoke to Angel?” Xander asked.

“When he gave me the amulet, the night before… Are you saying Spike is with Angel?” Buffy gripped the top of one of the chairs for balance.

“I had a crystal and when I held it over a map and said the incantation--.”

“Willow, just tell me.”

“Spike’s at that law firm of Angel’s. I think that’s why the spell brought his mom to us. She’s dead. Spike isn’t. Well, I think he’s still vampire-dead, but he isn’t dead-vampire dead, you know?”

“You should call Angel,” Xander suggested calmly. “Ask him--.”

“No!” The word sprung from Buffy’s lips before she realized it.

“I will not call him,” she continued quietly. “I’m going to Los Angeles.”

“But what about Spike’s mom? Are you going to send her back?” Willow asked. “Are you going to break the locket?”

Willow slid the locket across the table toward Buffy. She picked it up and squeezed it in her fist then she announced, “I’m going to take Mrs. Pratt to her son.”
***





You must login (register) to review.