The Vampire as Metaphor...Book III of the (Semi) Complete Works of
William Soames Walthrop...
PG-13
Summary: A lost work of one William Soames Walthrop (...aka Spike) as
it was delivered at one of Cicely Addams' house parties, shortly
before Will's demise. See the reference to it in "Drusilla"...
Disclaimer: All BTVS characters remain the property of Joss Whedon,
Mutant Enemy, and all other owner/creators of the Buffy the Vampire
Slayer series...
Contributions to the recovery of the lost works of England's third
worst poet are always welcomed...
***
***
Part III...
Two hours later...The New York docks...
A somewhat nettled Detective Harris having agreed after young Mr.
Potter's careful phrased lack of satisfaction with his investigative
efforts to make inquiries as whether anyone might have seen the person
responsible for the unfortunate crate incident, he, Potter, and
charmingly concerned Miss Springs...Wonder if it's customary among
American women to stay unrelentingly by a man they've saved from
death, Potter wondered, eyeing her...Had made an exhaustive circuit of
the dock area...
No one apparently had seen 'nuting' as Detective Harris put
it...Though to Potter's surprise that seemed to disturb the dockyard
detective more...
"That crate couldn't've come out of nowheres...There weren't no ship
abouts...And nobody coulda tossed it far...Somebody's musta seen
sumtin'...And somebody's lying..."
Not good in his business...Harris noted to his companions...Which
relied on the trustworthy support and complicity of the local dockers
both honest and less so...Without that...Chaos...And rapid escalation
of the main problem of the docks from petty theft and delay to large-
scale robbery and paralysis...
Yes, well...Potter was now tiring a bit of the law officer's
investigative enthusiasm...He'd merely wanted a slight show of effort
and concern...Not to spend the fast-vanishing afternoon wandering
around endlessly... "Thank you for your efforts, Mr. Harris..."
"I think I'd best be off to my hotel...Miss Springs..." he politely
touched his hat to the girl who frowned at him as he took up his
bags... "Hey...Wait..." she followed him...
"You said you had something for me!?..." she was beside him in a
second...Hmmn...Fast girl, he noted...
Perhaps possibly in more ways than one...The thought occurred to
him...But he halted...Yes, of course...
"I have a letter and a box for you...From a gentleman I met on the
boat crossing over...A Mr. Merritt...?"
"Yeah?..." she eyed him... "Somebody you met, huh?...On board?..."
"You don't know him?..." Potter paused... "Perhaps I should..."
"No, no...I know Merritt...You can give it to me..." she smiled
sweetly... He frowned, but put his bags down and opened
one...Here...he handed her an envelope and a small, rectangular
box...She took them and putting a leg on one of his bags to prop the
box level in the crook of her elbow and arm, opened the envelope,
smoothing the letter within on the box...
"Thanks...So...Where is Mr. Merritt?...Did he leave the boat ahead of
you?..." she looked at him...
"I haven't seen him since he gave these to me the third day out..." he
paused, considering whether or not to politely ask her to please move
her...Rather interesting leg...From his bag or wait her out...
Waiting out after all being the more gentlemanly route...Not to
mention perhaps the more pleasurable one...
She frowned at the letter and gave young Potter a hard glance...Damn,
clearly she'd been mistaken...Well, no harm done...The Brit seeming
utterly clueless...Merritt must've sensed trouble and figured he could
always retrieve the stuff from him if things went well... But if he
didn't make it she'd see this Potter as the likeliest candidate for
contact...And if the little fellow became a target himself in the
meantime...Well...No great loss...
"Anything wrong...?"
"Nah..." she shook her head...A quick smile...Hmmn...Wonder what the
heck his game really is?...she looked the young Englishman over
carefully and throughly...Eh, just another clown hoping to make a pile
in the California gold fields or something like that...
[Hmmn...Cicely eyed Will carefully...As he blinked, the catching of
her intense stare throwing him off a rather good stride for an
instant...Land of Opportunity?...California gold fields?...Poor
college graduate with a brother and sister to support and little
money, but for the contribution of the mysterious (if even actual)
'Mr. Walthrop'...He wasn't by any chance, considering?...Ok, then,
maybe time to push things along relationshipwise after this enchanting
evening...
Wonder if Henry was planning to use that cottage of his up in the Lake
District this weekend?...
Hmmn...Henderson thought, giving as concealed a glare as possible at
the precious little 'poet'...So perhaps our diminutive pest is
planning a move westwards?...What a pity...]
Still he was headed her way...Hmmn...In fact...Perhaps Merritt's
scheme was worth continuing...At least until she'd learned what had
happened shipboard...If Nast and co thought she'd linked up with her
new Watcher without incident...They might show their hand faster...
But first things first...She moved the box up for opening...He eyeing
it as well, somewhat interested after carrying the thing for
days...She gave him a...Yes?...stare and he backed off
slightly...Sorry...
"Not at all..." she shook her head... "Just that some of the contents
might be...Personal...You do understand?..." Certainly, he
nodded...And tried to look elsewhere...Ummn... "Perhaps if you'd let
me have my bag and be on my way...?" he suggested...
"Sure, sure...Just a minute..." she waved him off hastily and opened
the box...Mmmn...
He slipped back in a bit, seeing the large, well-bound book
inside...With a rather sinister raised illustration on the
cover...Well?...he looked at her...Quite a piece of workmanship...he
noted...
Yeah...she recovered the box... "Pity I can't read it..." Hmmn...A
thought struck her... "Say..." "Potter, Peter Potter..." Potter
reminded her... Yeah... "You don't by any chance read Latin and Greek,
Mr. Patter?..."
Does a fish know how to swim and a bird to fly?...he did not
say...Though rather wished he had a second after nodding yes...I
believe so...
"Great...You can read this thing to me tonight...At our hotel..."
Our hotel...? he stared at her...
"We're both starting for California tomorrow, right?..." she noted...
"So odds are we're staying at the same hotel...Or..." she beamed at
him... "We could be...Especially as I've not booked a room as yet for
tonight..."
Oh...?
[Interesting...Jonathan thought, watching William...So, assuming
Walthrop knows something about his subject...What they say...At least
in those circles not frequented by ladies...About American girls is
really...?]
"And it wouldn't be safe for me to wander these streets
alone...My...Uncle...Mr. Merrick..." "Merritt..." "Merritt,
right...Not having showed as yet..."
"Well...But then...Shouldn't you call Mr. Harris back and...?"
"Yeah..." she cut him off... "I'll leave a note with him to have Uncle
reach me at the...?" she gave him a...Well?...stare...
"Well...I'm supposed to be staying at the Germania...A friend
recommended it..."
"Here..." she handed him the box... "Just let me get my things, I left
them in the baggage office when I came out here...I'll leave a note
there, too..." she hurried off, leaving him a bit speechless...
But not necessarily displeased...
So...This is how it's done in the New World...
***
Encountering Detective Harris once again in the baggage office, Miss
Springs politely thanked him for his efforts and recovered her
things...Glancing out the window several times to confirm that young
Mr. Potter was keeping what she chose to consider a promise...To wait
for her...
After she left Detective Harris stood near the large window and
watched her meet with Potter outside and head off...He turned to an
assistant... "I wanta know where they go...What they're doing...When
one of 'em heads for the latrine...I know it...Got it?..." he eyed
him...
Aye...the assistant nodded and left...
***
A few minutes later...
The New York sewer tunnel #1, triumph of modern (1860's modern)
engineering...Though perhaps now a bit...Dank...
Temporary lair of Heinrich Nast, would-be Napoleon of the
Underworld...Who'd called his available minions in for a quick
consultation...
[Nast?...Cicely blinked a moment...Where have I heard that name?...]
"Gentlemen..." he nodded politely to New York's finest...Of the Undead
variety...
And including several representatives of fairly prominent local
families...None of course comparable with the lineage of Nast or his
handful of European colleagues who'd made the dangerous journey to the
Land of Opportunity...Gregor standing somewhat downcast off to one
side...
"I fear I have bad news...Our attempts to derail the Slayer's meeting
with her new Watcher have failed..." he sighed... "Though not for want
of effort on our dear Gregor's part..." he smiled at the shamefaced
Gregor...
[Slayer?...Watcher?...Cicely stirred in her chair a bit
nervously...Still the "Vampire Slayer" thing has been used by other
authors...I'm reasonably sure...No reason to assume...she told
herself...]
"This should not be considered a true disaster however..." he noted...
"As she now must have the location of the Hellmouth portal in her
possession...And we can track a Slayer much more easily than a mere
puny human Watcher..."
[Come to think of now...Didn't my Watcher mention a 'hellmouth'
once?...Ummn...Maybe I mentioned it to William as a interesting
legend...Or to Henry...Yes...That has to be it...]
"So..." A newly-arrived fellow, fully covered in heavy overcoat,
scarf, and hat to guard against the remaining afternoon sunlight...
"Your Olive must have failed with the Watcher at sea..."
"Yes..." Nast sighed sadly... "A great pity...I fear we may have lost
poor Olive outright..." Or will when she shows her miserable face
round here...he did not say...
"Now that would be tragic..." the fellow in overcoat
nodded...Switching to a feminine pitch... "Especially after she
managed to kill that Watcher for you, Heinrich..." the coat and scarf
dropping away to reveal a rather beautiful brown-haired, grey-eyed,
tall...One might assume but would be slightly off the mark...Woman...
"Olive?..." Nast stared... "So you say you succeeded in destroying the
Watcher...?"
Floating somewheres in the north Atlantic, my love...she beamed... "A
very charming man, actually...Quite brave...Refused to tell me
anything and jumped before I could transform him, more's the pity..."
"But...?" Nast looked at the even-more shamefaced Gregor... "Gregor
saw the Slayer make contact with the Watcher?...At the docks...He even
tried to kill him..."
"Not the Watcher sent from England, my love..." Olive smiled...
"Whoever this new fellow is, he's not the one I tracked..."
"I suppose they might have sent two...A rather sensible precaution on
the Watchers' part..." the Leader pondered...
"Wait..." Olive looked over at Gregor... "Gregor, the man you tried to
kill...Was he short, brown-haired?...A bit...Well, not the most
prosperous-looking of men?"
Gregor pondered in turn...As much as his limited pondering capacity
would allow for... "brown hair?..."
"There's your explanation, Heinrich..." Olive beamed... "Our Watcher
handed his materials over to this fellow...Probably never knew what he
had..."
Indeed....Nast placed fingers together...Plausible, yes... "But the
fact remains that the Slayer now knows where the Great Hellmouth
Portal is and we do not..."
So?...Olive shrugged... "We follow her to California, we kill and you
transform her, she hands you, her sire, the Hellmouth in gratitude for
her new lease on Unlife...We...er...You obtain access to unlimited
power via said Hellmouth...I reign as your new Queen Consort after
killing the said vampiral Slayer..."
Loathing competition as I do...she noted to all with bright beam...
***
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