Things Present – Things Past
By Estepheia and Marcee
Part 3 - Someone to Watch over me
Buffy regained consciousness, frantic questions began pummelling her still
fuzzy mind... *Where did the music go?
and Why am I lying down? In a bed that's
so not my own? Did someone put something in my drink?* Because her limbs
felt kinda heavy. And rising above the clatter, another question taunted her: *Whatever happened, why did it have to
happen, just when Spike was gonna ask me to dance?* She turned this one
over in her head a few times. She had seen his question coming, and she'd been
prepared to say something suitably rude but affirmative, like "Sure, as
long as you don't try to cop a feel..." But now? Where was she?
with her eyes closed she could tell that Spike wasn't there. She would have
sensed his presence. But someone else was in the same room with her, someone
unfamiliar. Without opening her eyes, she took in the smells and sounds of the
place. *Leather. Sweet tobacco smoke.
Wood polish. Warmth. A crackling fire? The clatter of hooves?? The sound of
wheels on a nearby road - huh? Horse-drawn carriages???*
raised her lids a bit just enough to take a peek. She was lying between crisp
linen sheets in a museum piece of a four poster bed, complete with canopy and
curtains. A typical Hammer Horror movie bed. She slowly turned her head and saw
a thin man in his late forties, dressed impeccably in a very conservative grey
suit with matching vest, gleaming cuff links and a golden pocket watch. He was
covering what was obviously a chalk-drawn magical circle by unrolling an
expensive looking carpet. An open leather bag, like a doctor's, sat on the
floor. The man quietly put a number of objects inside: black and white candles,
a large crystal, like the one Tara used to focus her magical powers, a little
brass bell and a few items she couldn't quite make out.
*A warlock or a
sorcerer. Oops. Bad news.*
room she was in looked very old fashioned. It was illuminated by a petroleum
lamp. There were bookshelves, some armchairs, a large desk, side tables and a
small sofa. The walls were hung with paintings of horses and dogs. Everything
appeared quite old and expensive. There were three large windows, but the
curtains were drawn. Only one door led outside. Except for the bed it looked
very much like an office. *Ok, how the
hell did I get sucked into Masterpiece Theatre?*
turned her head back and closed her eyes. But inwardly she readied herself for
action. *Ew, my muscles feel like jelly!
I wonder what kind of drug they gave me. Whoever `they' may be.* She could
hear the man walking around and the sounds of a heavy chair being pushed nearer
to the bed. Then the man sat down and began to turn the pages of a book.
where were we... `Chapter 22." He cleared his throat. "Mr. Rochester had given me
but one week's leave of absence: yet a month elapsed before I quitted
Gateshead. I wished to leave immediately after the funeral, but Georgiana
entreated me to stay..." He had a slightly nasal voice, and a very crisp English
upper class accent. He made Giles sound positively slang-y.
opened her eyes again. *Now this is
weird! First drugs, then bedtime stories?* She turned her head to read the gold lettering
on the binding. "Jane Eyre?" she said, startling the man. "Oh yuk, this is so
before my time. Come on, can't you at least read the latest Stephen King or
sat upright and swung her legs out of bed. That's when she realized that
something was seriously wrong. "Hey, look at those legs! They're all pale and
thin! And who put me into this horrible nighty? How gross."
got up. Her knees almost buckled, but she held on to one of the bed's posters.
*Whoa, they must have kept me under
sedation for ages.*
thin man had risen from his chair, the book still clasped in his hands. At
first there was a look of joy on his face but this was quickly replaced by
looked around "I have a feeling that I'm not in Kansas anymore," she
said. "I must be over the rainbow."
the man asked with a frown. He came closer. "Is everything alright with you, my
dear? Please, you mustn't overexert yourself. You are still weak."
"Is this another one of your stupid tests?" Buffy
"Do you know, who I am?" he asked worriedly.
like a watcher, talks like a watcher, looks like a watcher... hey, you must be a
watcher. You know what? Watch this." She turned around and walked towards the
door. "So, Travis thought he could drag me out of my life to perform some tests
on the recently resurrected? Just like that? Well, he'd better think again,
cause I am so gonna kick his ass!"
wait," he hurried after her. She opened the door and walked down the hallway.
There was a coat rack with several conservative looking coats. She was about to
grab one and then rush out through the front door when Buffy caught sight of
herself in a big mirror.
slender figure of medium height, with pale skin and curly red hair, green eyes
and freckles. That's not me! She touched her face, her reflection did the
same. *Oh no, not again!* She
groaned. She still remembered inhabiting Faith's body. She turned around to
glower at the man who had followed her into the hallway. "Okay, so you mojoed
me into this body. You know what? Been there. Done that. Undo it!"
"Oh dear Lord!" the thin man exclaimed in horror.
Continued in Part 4 - Get Ready to Rumble