"The Metropolis Story..."
Archived at the Buffy Rebecca verse, . You might want to take a gander at the Cicelyverse page to get a handle on the Cicely Addams material...
Disclaimer: All BTVS characters remain the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and all other owner/creators of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer series...
Summary: Poet/Champion turned reporter/Champion (the vampire thing was involuntary) for the second least respectable news organization in Metropolis, William Soames Walthrop is assigned the job of uncovering the mysterious silence of a famed, deceased silent film star of the great film inspired by the greatest city on Earth. Both the other reporter/Champion and other reporter/seedy investigator of things mysterious in town hate his guts.
Part X...
"So...Rupert." Karl leaned back in the booth of the pub Giles had suggested as a fine lunch spot near Heathrow, sipping at his pint. Brit beer eh, not bad, not bad...Famed hat on table hastily moved to his lap as Margaret gave slight yelp as her poured beer from pitcher slightly foamed over to the table. So sorry, Karl...Apologetic look. "It's fine, Meg." Wave to her nervously grateful look...
Though glad someone appreciates the value of a grand ole hat... While Spike, to Margaret's left, content to see his own favorite jacket quite out of range.
"You and your friends here are all with the Royal Society of Antiquarians and Library Scientists?" Kolchak eyeing the new acquaintances among the group.
Well, the Wells character definitely looks the part... The girls, however...
"Yes, though I trust we're not quite as boring as the title would suggest..." Rupert smiled. "As you can see, the job can even attract the young."
"Oh, yeah..." Barbara agreed as Inga nodded, draining her pint. "Of course, I have a degree in history...And Inga in forensics."
"Really?" Kolchak nodded.
Would not have figured that...Fashion, maybe...Cheerleading, perhaps.
Margaret smiling... "Well, I think it must be fascinating...All that access to History, especially here in England and Europe. The things you must uncover in your work."
"Indeed..." Giles, Wells next to him, Barbara and Inga beside him...
"And you, Miss Summers..." Karl turned to the young, dark-haired, woman, who'd just met them at the pub, currently chatting a mile a minute at Walthrop, whom she'd wedged in beside, to his left, holding his arm rather tightly. Spike looking distinctly uncomfortable, yet somehow...Pleased?...At her earnest and obvious fondness.
"You're also with the Council?"
"Me? Nah..." the woman shrugged. "My sis does some work with them but I'm at University as they say here. Milan for my main school but I'm doing a semester at Cambridge. It's where my dad went." She smiled at Spike who stared.
"Nibs? Your dad went to Cambridge?" he blinked.
"Years ago..." Ms. Summers nodded.
"I thought ole Hank never left California till he took off for New York or wherever he ran to..."
Ms. Summers offering quick shrug, slight smile...
Niece maybe? Kolchak pondered. Well, have to be one several generations removed, natch, but the resemblance is pretty...
"So, Ms. Summers?" Margaret looking over from her spot in the booth, opposing side of Spike...Likewise her clear fondness both disquieting and pleasant to him, at the same time.
"Dawn..." kindly smile, offhand wave...Raising glass.
Put that beer down, Nibs...Spike hissed. "You're still not twenty-one."
"It's eighteen here, seventeen in some places." Dawn frowned. "And Giles lets me..."
"Does he?" frown to Giles who gave an apologetic look which, Andrew noted with some interest, William accepted without surprise...
So, the instinct remains...Through a hundred years of Undeadness and cluelessness...
Fascinating...
"Well...When your sis tells me she's ok'd it, you can imbibe. Till then..." stern tone.
"...how are you related to Mr. Walthrop?" Margaret concluded.
Andrew, Giles, Barbara, Inga quietly looking everywhere else possible...
"Well..." Dawn smiled.
"Yes..." Holmes, with Bertha, in a nearby booth, smiled at the barmaid stopping to politely inquire as to their orders. "I think a pint of your best stout would be very nice indeed. Bertha, my dear?"
"Oh yes, thanks, Holmes."
"Very nice..." the barmaid grinned at the obvious role-players. Sherlock Holmes and Emma Peel, eh? And the accent's not too bad, assuming they're Yanks like most of their lot.
...
"Cousins?"
"Second, about to be removed..." Spike, frowning at Dawn, to the curious Margaret...
Nibs? What the hell?
No need to be making fun of ole Dru, you know...
"I didn't know you had relatives among this Council, Walthrop." Kolchak noted, wryly pleased to note Will's discomfort.
Girl must be in on his secret...He glanced at Dawn smiling at Will...Unless...
I mean, given Margaret, let alone Spike...And Liam Angel.
Whew...Could she be? A more careful glance at Dawn...
If she is, nice job of adjusting to our century, kiddo.
But the Summers girl...The older sis if the kid's not lying...She's a kid from California, with birth record, etc. And the heretofore current Slayer till she and her friends activated all the others...If the stuff Miss Emily and Liam told me and that guy on the Internet wasn't all hooey.
Come to think of it? Wasn't that clown on the net with the blog named "Wells"?
"So, this mystery...About the film actress, Ms. Helm...?" Margaret, carefully... "It involves your family, Will? Was she a relative?"
Dawn eyeing Will... "You might say that..."
"A family friend...Nothing more that I know of..." he replied. "Nibs? If you know more...?"
"Nibs?" Margaret smiled. "That's a cute nick-name..."
"For Niblett...And meaning she's too young to be drinkin'..." he eyed Dawn, her eyes rolling.
"Excuse me, Miss..." he summoned the passing barmaid. "Could you bring the young lady a Coke? Thanks."
"'Niblett'? Oh, that's very sweet...Does it run in the family?"
"Like blood..." Will nodded. Dawn giving smile.
"Oh, Karl?...I think Miss Lane is still with us..." Margaret noted quietly to Kolchak, nodding at the pub window where a woman in trenchcoat was standing near a bus stop, occasionally peering in.
"She's tenacious...Gotta give her that." Karl grinned, glancing out the window.
"She ought to be resting, after her experience." Margaret shook head. "I'd think Mr. Kent would be more careful of her."
"I'd imagine he should worry about what she'll do, especially, to him, to get this one..." Karl noted.
"For a story supposedly to get Will out of Metropolis to let things quiet down..." Margaret eyed him, a bit reprovingly.
"More than I know, Duchess..." Karl shrugged. "But the mind of Vincenzo is a Sicilian steel trap. And it seems to have sprung on the Planet's star reporters."
"Really?" Margaret eyeing him drily.
Andrew quickly glancing away as her eyes caught his stare...She, offering brief, gentle smile. "So, Mr. Wells? Are you a historian? I gather by your accent you're an American."
"I'm...With the Council...Which makes me a historian of sorts, I guess." Andrew shrugged.
"Andy's from my ole hometown, Sunnydale." Dawn noted.
"The site of the disaster a few years ago?" Margaret asked. "The sinkhole or crater that swallowed the whole town?"
"That was it..." nod.
"It's lucky so many survived..." Margaret shook head. "Karl, didn't you do a story on it? The strange one about a huge battle between Good and Evil? It turned out to be that but something to do with a corporation illegally fracking or something?"
"The one I had to retract under pressure from the Governor of California...And the fracking involved an eruption of vampires from a dimensional portal." Kolchak frowned.
"You did get a lot of attention from conspiracy theorists, I remember. It was just when I started working for INS." She noted, shaking head. "But, really...Karl? I know you love bringing in that sort of thing but...Vampires?" chuckle.
Heh-hah! Andrew, nervous cackle...
Andrew...Spike glared.
"You did accept the alien story, girl." He noted to Margaret who shrugged. Well...
"I'm open to it...You did have compelling evidence, Will. But vampires in California?" she shook head, chucking again. "And we both know Karl loves to spin out a yarn from the thinnest cloth."
"Why, I can't allow my honor to be impugned. Especially before a Royal Council..." Kolchak, mock affront.
"Karl...You know I love your tales..." Margaret sighed.
"More things in Heaven and Earth, Drusilla...Er, Margaret Drusilla..." Andrew, hastily...Gulping at Spike's...Kolchak's...And Giles'...frowns.
Mr. Wells...We discussed this...Giles' stern look.
"How did you know my middle name?" Margaret smiled. "Have you been studying up on us?"
"Uh, yes...I like to have complete information, to better understand the needs of our clients. Or those simply seeking our assist." Wells, nervously.
Sorry...Glance to Spike, Kolchak, and Giles, in turn.
"Seems pretty crazy..." Dawn nodded dutifully. Sidelong glance to William. "But if I remember the racy story Mr. Kolchak did, the guy who sealed the portal did it for love of a Vampire Fighter or something?"
"Slayer, they're called. Or so the stories say..." Kolchak noted. "And thanks for the 'racy' vs 'utterly crazy', dear." Smile.
"Would have to be a real romantic nut, if you ask me..." Dawn shook head. "But I'd go with the evil corporation fracking story, so...Maybe the guy actually just worked for Frackers, Inc and blew the whistle and things got out of hand when the corporate types panicked? These things get so exaggerated..."
"Well, that's the story I was allowed to go with in the final, reissued version..." Kolchak shrugged.
"For love of a woman...That is romantic." Margaret smiled. "Would you do that, Will? For the right woman, I mean?"
"If I recall the guy roasted alive whether fightin' vampires or fracking executives and security, so probably not." Will, firmly.
"I dunno...You look the type who would, deep down." Dawn smiled.
"There's not that much depth to me, Ms. Summers." Walthrop frowned. "And I've not heard of any response from the woman involved...Slayer or environmental expert as Karl's final story described her."
"The things I'm forced to do in the name of national security." Kolchak frowned, sipping his beer.
"Maybe she's been mourning...And maybe waiting for the guy to resurface..." Dawn eyed Spike.
"Considering he likely blew up or roasted, quite a waste of her precious time..." Spike shrugged.
"Unless he survived...In which case, he'd have to be quite some combination of jerk and coward." Dawn, frowning now.
Kolchak leaning back, attempting to repress grin for the somewhat distressed Margaret's sake.
They seem to be getting quite annoyed at each other, the cousins...She thought.
"Well, it hardly matters to us. We have the here and now to focus on. So, Giles? You and Andrew have anything on Ms. Helm?" Spike, insistent.
"Some..." Giles nodded. "Her life is fairly well-documented until she sought permanent voluntary exile in Switzerland with her husband."
"Rather romantic in itself..." Margaret, wistfully. "She rescued her Jewish husband from certain death at the Nazis' hands while still one of the biggest stars in Germany."
"With Minister Joe Goebbels breathing down her neck, probably literally, to get her to dump the poor bastard and carry on her career as film star as well as a new one as his mistress. One of many, I understand." Karl nodded.
"You know she was nearly 'The Bride' in 'The Bride of Frankenstein'..." Andrew noted. "Her place of exile might have been Hollywood if she'd accepted James Whale's offer."
"Wouldn't have worked with that German accent as Mary Shelley..." Spike shrugged.
Oh...Margaret eyed the raindrops on the pub's window pane... "It's starting to rain. Perhaps we should ask Miss Lane in to join us?" she asked Kolchak who struggled to repress smile.
"Lois Lane the Pulitizer-prize reporter? From the Daily Planet?" Dawn perked up...
"Yeeah...?" Spike eyed her.
This has the disturbing tone of idol worship...God, Buffy isn't letting the Nibs consider the media as a career?
Our...Well, her...But mine in a spiritual sense...Dawn has the delicate sensitivity for great literature...Historical fiction, perhaps.
Perhaps, even...Poetry?
Or at least writer on a fine miniseries...
"Can we call her in?" Dawn, eagerly. "I'd love to meet her...I'm taking..."
Sigh...Spike eyed her eager face...
"Journalism, this semester. I might make it my major."
Might...Hope, there...
Might...He thought.
And if she sees the seediness and sordidness that is modern-day journalism...
"Right. By all means don't let the poor damsel get wet out there..." William, affecting sincerity.
"Fine by me..." Kolchak shrugged, smiling. "Though I'd suspect the lady might not love the idea we caught sight of her..."
"Is she tailing you guys?" Dawn, excitedly. "This thing about Ms. Helm must be big."
"Seems to be getting bigger by the second..." Karl grinned. "Inflated by the hot air of our Don Vincenzo in Metropolis. Gotta hand it to him...He came up with a doozy. Say, Lois!" he tapped on the window he sat near...Waving at her.
Or Liam Angel did...For his own and perhaps other reasons involving forces we weren't expecting...He eyed Spike who eyed him...Both then eyeing Giles who offered a friendly but fathomless expression.
And clearly...This little distraction may indeed be bigger than we thought...
...
Holmes quaffing his pint with casual relish, watching the group from the booth shared with his colleague Bertha, likewise enjoying hers. "No sign of the Kryptonian here yet..." he noted. "But if the Watchers' Council is involved, the Slayer is...And that is enough to suggest we should stay our hand and learn more." Shrewd pull at pipe restored to mouth.
"By all means, Holmes. I agree." Bertha nodded.
Especially if it means we don't make some hopeless attack for a bit yet...I'm rather enjoying this time out of Hell.