ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES

CHAPTER 196 – ST. ALBAN’S

DECEMBER 27, 2009
SATURDAY
11:00AM

“Have they gone?” Giles asked, coming out of his study.

“Yeah, they just left,” Willow said, pointing out the window. Giles glanced out just
in time to see Buffy and William round the corner at the end of the street.

“Do we know how long they’ll be out?”

“Buffy didn’t say, but it sounded like William was going to take her around to see
some of the places from his past.”

“Good. That ought to keep them busy for quite some time then, I should think.”

Willow followed him back into the study. Taking a key from the inside of his jacket
pocket, Giles proceeded to unlock the bottom drawer of his desk and pull out the
cardboard tube containing the original scroll of the Shanshu Prophecy.

"Shall we, then?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOON

HAMPSTEAD


“St. Albans and Highgate Roads,” called the driver.

“That’s us, luv.”

Buffy looked out the bus window expectantly, then back at William.

“We walk from here.”

“Okay,” Buffy said. Rising from her seat, she followed him down the aisle to the
door.

Last night as they paused in front of the Royal Observatory, William asked if
she'd like to see where he'd grown up. Of course, she readily agreed. Now, two
trains and two busses later, they were nearing his destination.


Throughout, he had narrated the sights of London as they made their way across
town, until the last leg of the journey. As the final bus headed further north from
the heart of the city, William became less talkative, until finally, he fell silent,
pensive.

Sitting next to him, Buffy could feel the nervous energy coming off of him in
waves; all the while, his hands restlessly fidgeted on his lap. She reached over
and covered them with hers, and they stilled. William lifted his eyes to hers. He
brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, letting his lips linger for a moment
over the ring she now wore again.

Once off the bus, he took her hand again, and they started to walk. He pointed
out his old school as they passed it, and shared his memories of what the area
had looked like over one hundred years ago.

Finally, William stopped in front of a three-story brick house whose number on
the mailbox read 2203 Highgate Road. A low lying brick wall surrounded the
yard, except for where two gateposts stood as silent sentries on either side of the
drive. Towering bushes, now sparse from winter, grew against the inside of the
brick wall.

"This is where you grew up," Buffy stated softly, looking over at William who
nodded.

“Yes.”

"It looks just like I'd imagined it would from the way you described it to me last
year. Only smaller."

"It was; that part wasn’t there when I lived here," William said, pointing out the
addition that had been added to the original structure. As he did, neither he nor
Buffy noticed the figure in the upstairs window peeking out from behind the
curtain.

~~~~~~~~~

“Mummy!” Alyson yelled as she ran down the stairs.

“Shh, Grandma Beatrice is napping,” Amanda reminded her daughter.

“Mummy! Mummy! The man is back! I told you he’d be back!”

“What man?”

“The sad man who was outside in the rain that day! Remember, Mummy?”

“He’s there again?” Amanda asked, brows knitting in a frown.

Alyson’s little head bobbed up and down in quick succession. “There’s a lady,
too.”

Amanda went over to the parlor window and looked outside. Just as Alyson had
said, a man and woman stood just beyond the drive, looking towards the house;
their heads tilted towards each other as they spoke. She watched as the man
suddenly hung his head, and the woman reached over and put her arms around
him.

She startled as her husband Robert put his hand on her back.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m not quite sure,” Amanda explained how Alyson had seen the man another
day and how he and a woman were now standing in front of the house.

“Well, why don’t I go out there and ask him then?”

“Oh...well, I suppose,” Amanda said, as Robert started for the front door. “You’ll
be nice, won’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know...of course you would. It’s just the man looks troubled.”

“Troubled? You mean dangerous?” Robert asked, returning to take another look
out the window.

“No, not that way. Troubled as in sad.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“At first, when I couldn’t remember the simplest things from this time era and only
seemed to be able to remember everything from the past - my past - I believed
I’d just lost my mind along with my memory somehow. But this...seeing the home
I grew up in looking so different; it’s like the definitive proof of everything, isn’t it?”

Before she could answer, Buffy felt William tense suddenly. Following his gaze to
the house, she saw a man walking towards them.

“We should go,” William said tersely, pulling back from their embrace.

Before she could answer him, she heard the man call to them.

“Hello. Can I help you?”

“No, we’re just leaving,” William answered, grabbing hold of Buffy’s arm.

“Wait!”

William turned back toward the man, his eyes wide.

“You were here before, weren’t you? My daughter saw you a couple of weeks
ago.”

William nodded, self-consciously, and Buffy could feel his fingers tighten the grip
they had on her arm. “I’m sorry,” he said, once again starting to turn to leave.

“What is it you want?”

“I...”

“I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to stand there gawking in front of your house,” Buffy
said, thinking quickly. “You see, William here has been doing some genealogy
research lately, and has reason to believe that family of his lived in this house a
long time ago.”

“How long ago?” Robert asked, his voice suspicious.

Buffy turned to look at William. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

“About one hundred thirty years ago. Around 1880 or so.”

“What did you say your name was?” Robert asked.

“I apologize,” William said, clearing his throat. “I’m William Worthington, and this
is Elizabeth.”

“Worthington? Is that the family name you were researching?” Robert asked.

"Yes."

"Sorry, it doesn't sound familiar."

“That’s alright; we’re sorry to bother you,” William said. Turning to Buffy he
mouthed, “Let’s go.”

"There's Spencer, also. That's the other name," Buffy said.

“That’s alright," William said, shaking his head at Buffy while he spoke; "I’m sure
we’ve taken up enough of your...”

“Spencer? Well, I’ll be! That my wife's grandmother's name. Please, come inside.
I think you’re going to want to talk to them,” he said, beckoning to them to follow
him.

William hesitated as he looked towards the house. To him, it was merely a little
over a year and a half ago that he'd awoken in a strange place - alone, naked,
and disoriented, but still believing that it was the same night that he’d bid his
mother good evening and gone to the party in Kensington. In reality, over a
century had passed since he’d walked out of this house and fallen into another
world altogether - one where he'd lost his life, his self, his very soul; one where
for over a century, he’d been a monster.

Awash in the emotions, William stood rooted to the ground, looking from the
house to Elizabeth, lost.

She took hold of his hand, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Are you coming?” Robert called once he’d reached the front door.

“One minute,” Buffy answered, then turned to William.

Robert nodded, then retreated into the house.

"Elizabeth..." William said, running his hand through his hair, as his eyes
implored hers.

“I'm sorry, William. I shouldn't have butted in. Whatever you want to do, it’s okay.
It’s your choice.”

"What will I say to these people if, indeed, some distant relationship exists? How
can I possibly speak of my relationship to those who they will consider ancestors
long...long gone for over a century now, but whom I knew of as my family? How
can I pretend not to know them as such?" William asked, his voice growing more
desperate with each new scenario he imagined." How can I pretend that I don't
recall that I lived here, that I know each room, that I..."

"You're right. It will be hard," Buffy said solemnly. "But if you want to do this, I'll
help you."

"How?"

"I'll try to deflect as many of their questions as possible. That way, it will give you
time to think before you inadvertently say something you don't want to."

"Follow your lead, then?" William asked, his eyes distant as he weighed her
proposal. "Maybe..."

"Besides, William," Buffy said, taking his hand, “these people might really be your
family.”

“No!”

“No? Didn’t you just say...”

“No,” William repeated softer this time, as he brought his free hand up to cup her
cheek. “Not family. They may very well be related to me, but you’re my family.”

“I know,” Buffy whispered, blinking back tears.

He held her gaze a moment longer before giving her a short nod. Hand-in-hand
they started up the walkway to the house.

~~~~~~~~~~

December 27, 2009
Saturday
Noon
St. Sebastian's
Greenwich

Reverend Handley ran his hand through his hair as he closed the newest Greater
London Directory of The Church of England, that he'd just received in the post
this past week. Sent out at the end of every year, the directory told not only the
number of parishioners attending each church (a plus or minus after their
numbers), but the name of the vicar at each church, and how long they'd been
there. As he had recalled correctly, St. Alban's vicar was Reverend Moody, at the
proverbial pulpit since 1970 to the present. Thrumming his fingers against the
desk, he waited until his computer booted up.

Around five years ago, the diocese had insisted all its vicars learn how to use the
Internet, thus thrusting them, (some kicking and screaming) into the new century.
The computer’s screen let him know it was ready, and the reverend connected to
the Church of England’s Diocese Central, as it was jokingly referred to. A quick
search of St. Alban’s, indeed, showed there had been a Reverend Stephens --
from 1856 until 1880! Disbelieving, he read the passage again.

Had he not, inadvertently, overheard a conversation between two of the young
slayers who had come back to the church this morning to help finish cleaning up,
he would’ve only attributed Mr. Giles’ houseguest having mentioned Reverend
Stephens as an honest mistake.


After morning prayers, he had been walking back towards his office from the
sanctuary, by way of a shortcut through the rear door of the church's pantry.
Stopping for a moment, to look over the remaining food supplies, he'd heard their
voices coming from the partly opened door, which led to the kitchen:

“...Have you ever come across a vampire who you were...nevermind.”

“What?”

“Sort of attracted to?”

“God, no! How can you think that Megan?”

“I didn’t say I was, I mean you know...eww, bumpies and all that.”

“Yeah, not to mention the blood sucking and wanting to kill us thing,” Teresa
added.

“I know, there was just this vamp that night that Giles had us out looking for
William before Christmas...”

“What about the vamp?”

“Nothing,” Megan said, turning back to the large cooker she’d been scouring in
the sink.

“It’s not nothing, or you wouldn’t have brought him up,” Teresa said.

“Okay,” Teresa said, not turning around. ”This vamp...well, he was just sort
of...no, not sort of – he was really handsome. At least until he vamped out. So, I
just thought for a moment that it was a shame that he had gotten turned, is all. It
just made me wonder, if, under the right circumstances, he could’ve turned out to
be anything like Spike did.”

“What did you do?”

“I dusted him, of course. But, I did find myself hesitating just a bit.”

“You can’t do that! You hesitate, and they gain the advantage, then you’re dead!”
Megan said. “Besides, it’s not like some random vamp, handsome or not, can
just go to Souls R Us, or wherever, and get himself a soul; not that he’d want to.”

“I know, I know. But if Spike could do it, why couldn’t some other vamp?”

“I don’t know. As for Spike, according to Mr. Giles, he was always an anomaly,
even a bit before he got his soul. Just don’t forget, he killed two slayers – one in
China and one in New York City, and tried to kill Buffy, too.”

“Yeah, but that was before he fell in love with her, and went to get a soul,” Megan
said, dreamily. “And now he’s back as William, human and all.”

“Yeah, he is,” Teresa said, smiling as she thought of him. Being one of the
outside slayers yesterday, she quite enjoyed his company. All the girls did. He
was sweet and sexy and...

Shaking herself, she turned serious again. “Just don’t forget that Spike wasn’t
your usual vampire. There isn’t likely to be another one of him, so don’t get all
googly-eyed and stupid over some vamp.”

“I won’t,” Megan said. They worked in silence for a few moments, before she
added, “Do you ever wonder if William still has some of the same...um...abilities
that Spike did?”

“What sort of abilities? He’s still a good fighter, but I he’s not as strong or fast as
we are, or vampires.”

“I wasn’t talking about those sort of abilities exactly.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

“Well, I’ve heard that vamps have amazing...you know, stamina,” Megan said,
blushing.

“Oh, God!” Teresa said.

At this point, Reverend Handley, shocked by what he’d just heard, and not
wishing to eavesdrop anymore of this particular line of musings, tiptoed back the
way he had come. The girls, now helpless with giggling, never heard him.

Now, connected directly to St. Alban’s site, the vicar’s finger hesitated on the
mouse; the cursor hovering over the link that would take him to the pages
containing the names of all its parishioners throughout the years. He glanced up
at the crucifix that hung in his office, and said a silent prayer for guidance.


END CHAPTER 196