"The Secret Diaries of Samuel B. Pepys..."
Summary: In another past life of Buffy and William...A
desperate-to-keep-the-case Anyanka tries to redirect their curse using
a unique
stratagem...With interesting results suggesting that a certain famed
17th
century diarist and his lady had more going on than even his published
diary let us
know...(More or less a Cicelyverse sequel to "Original Sin..."/prequel
to "Romance Palace"...)
Note: The best way to know Mr. Pepys is through his magnificent nine
year daily Diary...Which is now available on-line on a day-to-day
basis at http://pepysdiary.com/
courtesy of the wonderful Phil
Gyford.
I would also recommend "The Unequaled Self", a new biography by Claire
Tomlin...Just terrific and fills in the gaps the diary leaves...
PS: The following makes no claim to be a biography or history but is
simply a work of fan-fiction with a number of historical events
sandwiched into one year. (In other words...I know the Great Plague
actually hit London in 1665/6, the Great Fire in September 1666,
etc...But I wanted the Medway attack to happen at the same time so you
get it all in one action-packed AU year...)
Archived at the Buffy Rebecca verse,
www.geocities.com/buffyrebecca/Cicelypg.html
Disclaimer: All BTVS characters remain the property of Joss Whedon,
Mutant
Enemy, and all other owner/creators of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer
series...
***
Part the sixthteenth...
The dancing in the Pepys' elegantly appointed parlor was now in full
swing...Sam contentedly leading Bess through a turn...
Only a few sideliners watching, including a rather put out Mr. Knipp
whose fellow card players, fools to his thinking, had chosen to join
in...And a steadily fuming Major Hobbes who'd taken to lubricating his
annoyance with wine while watching his host and hostess...
Grand little nabob...No one, nobody but for a well-placed cousin...To
serve a gallant member of His Majesty's Forces the business as he
had...Ought to be fired from the cannon's mouth at daybreak...Or at
least given a good run through with the bayonet....
And Dr. Hooke, watching the dancers from the corner he'd selected,
quietly relishing his glass of claret..._
A handsome lot on the whole, he thought_Rather a pity so many of them
would quite probably be dead before the month's out..._
***
"And now that we at last are ready to unleash death and destruction on
England and have a weapon to use to neutralize the Slayer, courtesy
our brilliant Doctor..." Buckingham beamed to his Inner Circle of
followers...Undead only, sorry...But at least including some
relations... "It's time we learned enough about the dear lady so that
we can deal with her...We must lure her out of hiding..."
"You said the Doctor could only promise the substance would allow you
to influence the Slayer, not control her absolutely..." his niece,
daintily sipping from the glass cup placed before her a substance a
bit too thick to be wine...
"It will be enough...Provided you and the others fulfill your duties
to me and obtain the information I need to manipulate her..."
"But Uncle...Er, sire..." she hastily corrected at his stare...
"Pamela...Uncle, by all means...You know I believe in family..." he
smiled...
"Uncle...How do we find her?...Except for Gnaticus' followers and
Bertram, there..." Bertram the ex-monk, smiling politely at the
recognition... "...who didn't get a very good look...Or didn't survive
it...None of us knows what she even looks like..."
Indeed...One male, a former footman, now pleased to find himself newly
elevated to the privilege of the Inner Circle...All right, serving the
Inner Circle, he sighed, pausing in offering more 'wine' to the Duke
who waved him off...A welcome promotion nonetheless...Thought...The rumors
of the appearance of the hideous, terrifying, and above all, fast-
moving Slayer creature, being both infinite and running to the edge
of belief...
'Course personally he disparaged the notions of her being eleven feet
tall with fingernails ten inches long...Lady like that would be hard put
to conceal herself...
Though there was that giantess of seven feet or thereabouts on view at
Bartholomew Fair...
"We will bring her out, dear..." Buckingham insisted confidently... "Our
first release of plague will deliberately leave her just enough clues
to lure her to seek us even more intensely than usual as the cause..."
Say what?...Several minions eyed each other...Seek...?
"...And once we learn of a young woman prowling about with deep
interest in investigating the plague's cause...A few hours careful
surveillance should unlock her secrets..."
"But if the elixir slows her down, why not just kill or take her?..."
Other minions keeping a guarded, noncommital reserve...The Boss often
not tolerating even implied criticism well...
"My dear niece..." Buckingham sighed... "I have not taken my time with
this Slayer for casual reasons...There is more to Unlife and Evil than
simply winning a single battle...I seek to establish Hell on Earth
forever, not merely kill another Slayer in the line...To do that, in
the end I must destroy the Council of Watchers and root out the
Slayers entire...Even a vampirally-turned Slayer, though useful, is
quite not enough for my plans...But a broken, human Slayer...One whose
soul has been corrupted and placed at my service...Who can penetrate
and destroy her Council or at least assist us in doing so...That, my
dear, is a goal worthy even of me..."
And failing that we can always fall back on the turn or kill
options...he noted happily...
***
"What?" Sam blinked at a suddenly alert Bess...
Tell me the Undead haven't found us out and a way to bypass the house
protection...Nothing puts a greater damper on a party than bloody
slaughter...
"Creed..." she hissed...Glancing carefully toward the parlor
door...Where a rather hawk-eyed, tall, dark-haired gentleman in plain
yet elegant clothes was with shrewd, brooding look appraising those
about the room...
Lovely...Thought...Hoped...We'd be denied that pleasure...
Not that my former rival when in Lord Sandwich's service wasn't an
interesting man to hold discourse with...But the constant need to
watch oneself with him, the knowledge that he would catch and latch
onto any mis-spoken, careless word...And make the best use of it he
could, no matter how long off in the future that use might suit...
Rather wearying at times...
He'd even come close to sniffing out Bess when we used to have to do
accounts for my lord at night...Before my lord at last sensed that I
had moved off from him a bit and might not be so inclined to paper his
errors and blots as I once was...
Damn...He'd assured me he'd be out of town, though appreciated the
invite...
But with him one can rest assured his right hand has not the slightest
word from the left...Even and perhaps especially when folded in
prayer...Cultivating the solemn image of a devout angel in repose...
A sudden crash from the opposite end of the room...A sheepish Jonathan
apologizing to a rather put-out Jane eyeing the former contents of her
laden tray, now strewn about the floor in front of her...
"Very sorry, Jane..."
"Pepys...Good hostess..." Creed had found them out... "I'm so glad I
was able to come to you tonight after all...A last-minute change of
plans by my business associates left me free...I hope you don't mind
my accepting the invitation after my previous decline..."
"Not at all, John..." Sam smiled, offering a hand...
"We're so glad to have you..." Bess, likewise smiling...
Creed, an open smile, scanning their faces and then again a quick
glance about the room...
Doubtless necessary as I'm sure several here he tormented back in
Cromwell's day wouldn't mind seeing him six feet under...Sam
thought...Still one must concede, a most fascinating man...
"Was it a matter of my Lord's?..." he asked politely... Creed quickly
eyeing him...Evaluating...
Well, I suppose one formerly so throughly a Puritan as to be entrusted
with watching others on matters of faith and morals must tread
carefully in these times...Sam returned a friendly, non-committal
smile...
"Not precisely...Though my Lord remains my chiefest employer, I must
do all I can to make my way...Not yet enjoying your success, dear
Pepys..."
Oh, Lord... Bess repressed a frown and eye roll...Bloody imitation of
Christ...What's he and his pointy hair up to with my Sam now...
Like I believe you don't have four or five times my stash of gold and
silver tucked away somewhere...Sam thought...
"And you, dear one..." Creed turned to Bess... "Have you actually
managed to distract our Pepys from his labors for an evening?..."
"I thought so, Mr. Creed..." she smiled, a bit faintly... "But I
suspect matters will eventually intrude..." she gave him a slightly
narrow look...
Whatever you're up to...Drag my boy into something dangerous and die,
buddy...
"Pepys, might I beg to take you away from our gracious lady for just a
moment?...I did have a word or two to chew with you...Mere petty
business, fair lady, it shall not detain him long from your side...But
as it does concern our joint duty regarding my Lord Sandwich, I fear
we must leave you for a moment..." beaming smile to Bess who managed
to restrain from an eye roll...Though she caught Sam's eye with grim
look...
It's not my fault...His hapless return stare as Creed pulled him
off...
***
"So Buckingham or one of his men has penetrated our people..."
Coventry eyed his fellow Watcher as they stood in the shadows of
several of the empty stalls of the Whitehall complex's small merchants
and vendors...Only an occasional passerby and the hourly watch, so far
all human, to be seen at instances...
"There's no doubt...No minor vampire lord would have taken such a
risk...Or would have had the patience..." Fogarty showed the crucifix
in his palm which he'd insisted on taking in hand to dispel any
concerns...Coventry carefully placing his own cross back in pocket...
"They must be close to the time of their attempt, seeking to learn
what we know..."
"That is my conclusion as well, Sir William...And so we must redouble
our vigilance...And urge our gallant lady to new efforts..."
Yes...Coventry nodded, folded hands to chin...Then...
"Fogarty...Do you think it possible they know who our Slayer is?..."
"Difficult to say, Sir Will...Elisabeth has done everything she could
to conceal herself...But..."
"Then perhaps we should consider striking first?..."
"An assault on Buckingham directly?..." the priest pondered... "We've
ruled that out in the past...If we failed and he retained his human
pose as loyal friend of the King, the Crown's wrath might fall on us
all...Our whole organization in England could be lost as well as our
Slayer...The Council would have no source of information for the next
poor girl..."
"We needn't necessarily risk Elisabeth..." Coventry said quietly...
***
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