King of Hearts

King of Hearts

Chapter 12

The Queen in Question


Author's note: thanks to my betas Kar and Mariana, here's the new chapter. Enjoy!

Lyrics of "A Thousand Kisses Deep" by Leonard Cohen.


Buffy did not want to go to the reception, but she knew she had no choice. Refusing the Royal Medal of Courage would embarrass her father, so without much fuss on her part, she decided she would have to endure the ceremony, even if it killed her, or well, at least her dignity. She decided to wear a very conservative grey costume with a white blouse and plain shoes (no need to provoke PLAYBOY to repeat their offer), then, she’ll proceed to go upstairs for the reception at the ballroom. The more she thought about it, the more she considered the reception a truly bad idea. If someone was planning on killing Spike, she doubted they would give up after having failed at the opera.

*

The tiny state-of-the-art microphone Wesley was wearing was virtually invisible. "Center to all units. Report anything extraordinary under all circumstances. Over."

"Acknowledged. Over and out."

Wesley eyed all the people present in the ballroom suspiciously.

At that moment, Fred entered, wearing a light blue jacket and matching long skirt. He took a deep breath and walked up to her.

"Wesley," she said, scared, looking about anxiously. "Anything wrong?"

"Everything's wrong." He lowered his voice. "I need to talk to you."

She shook her head. "There is nothing to talk about."

"I beg to differ." He opened the door for her and led her out into the corridor. Security outside was not paying attention to them. "Fred, let me speak to your father once more. I love you. I'm willing to fight." He took a tiny box from his jacket and opened it. Fred held her breath. In it was the most perfect engagement ring she had ever seen.

"What do you want me to say?" she breathed.

Wesley looked at her expectantly. "Just say yes."

Fred looked away. "You know I can't. I'm sorry." Suddenly she looked very vulnerable. "Just let me go. I have to be with King William."

His expression cooled. "Is that your place now?"

She looked at him desperately. "I guess."

"Fred, please." He took hold of her hand in an act of desperation.

She shook it off. "Are you crazy? You can't do that in public!"

"I don't care," he said, louder than was necessary.

"I'm sorry." She made to walk past him. She felt his gaze piercing her back which made her turn around, pleading and suffering eyes showing on her face that in his angry state went unnoticed. "Just …Forget about me."

His face was burning. "All right. Then forget about all of this!" He tore off his microphone and trampled it on the floor, then, in a helpless, rebellious gesture, tore off his tie. "I quit!"

"Wesley! You can't quit now, you're the leader of the operation, His Majesty needs you here!"

He looked at her coldly. "From now on, I'm going to take care of what I need."

"Wes," she pleaded, "Talk to me!"

"There is nothing to talk about." And with that final statement he stormed out of the corridor and of her sight.

*

Spike was waiting in a private chamber next to the ballroom. He looked relieved when Fred entered. "Fred!"

She looked worried. "We have a problem. Wesley. He's gone!"

"What do you mean, he's gone?"

"He quit."

"Why?"

"Because of... because of me, I guess."

Spike was getting even more nervous, but for Fred's sake tried not to show it. "All right. Can't be helped now. I'll enter the ballroom with two Gurkha Orderly Officers; the body guard and the Yeomen of the Guard are on duty, and half the people in the ballroom are security. I'll be ok."

Fred nodded.

Sir Rupert made his way towards them. "Your Majesty, I'm sorry to interrupt, but it is five o'clock. We should begin."

Spike nodded.

Sir Rupert lowered his voice. "Have you talked to Lady Winifred about what we discussed?"

Spike avoided his eyes. "Not yet."

Fred looked at him questioningly. "Talked to me? What about?"

Sir Rupert smiled. "There are some things I have to attend to before the Investiture begins. Let me know when you're ready." He discreetly closed the door behind him.

Spike took a deep breath. "We need to talk."

Fred shifted uneasily. "Now?"

"Now."

*

Journalists and reporters from all the major newspapers and TV stations had been invited to join the reception and were waiting anxiously, cameras ready. The recipients of decorations were gathered in the ballroom. Each of them had been allowed to bring three friends to witness the occasion. Buffy had invited Xander and Willow along, who felt strangely out of place at the ballroom of Buckingham Palace.

Buffy was watching the door to the adjoining chamber intently. She noticed Lady Winifred sneaking out of there and taking a seat at the front row.

Then two officers left the room, accompanying the King.

Buffy's heartbeat almost stopped.

Sir Rupert stepped forward and cleared his voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, please stand up for the National Anthem."

Music was provided, as Sir Rupert had already told her, by a military band. Buffy's eyes were scanning the crowd. Some of them she recognized as security, others as recipients and their families, others were wearing name tags of the newspaper or TV station they worked for. None of them appeared to be an assassin.

After the anthem, Spike stepped forward for his welcoming speech. He reminded everyone present of the virtues that had established the Empire, and of the courage and effort of individuals that had been the pillars of society since the beginning of time.

Buffy was getting sick hearing it.

Uniformed servants were presenting the medals and decorations which were to be awarded to valuable citizens that day.

The first ones to be awarded that day were the recipients of a knighthood, who would be entitled to style themselves Sir from now on. They were called forth by Sir Rupert in alphabetical order and had to kneel on an Investiture stool before the King. Spike used a sword that had belonged to his grandfather, King George VI, to dub the Knight.

Each time, Spike had to repeat the ceremony. Buffy noticed to her surprise that, unlike in the movies Buffy had seen, he never said the words "Arise, Sir X", but merely touched their shoulders lightly with the flat sword. She was a little disappointed. Spike then invested the knight with the insignia of the Order to which he had been appointed. By the time Sir Zachory had been knighted, Buffy was truly bored.

Finally, when the knights were through, the recipients of other decorations were called forth, again starting with the letter A. Buffy silently reproached her father for not marrying her mother, she would have preferred a last name starting with a G instead of an S. In high school, being so late in the alphabet had burdened her with reports on topics no one else wanted and waiting for her diploma at graduation until no one was willing to listen any more nor clap to the hard-worked graduate. It had been right down torture, since everyone at that point was silently longing for dinner.

She was getting increasingly more nervous. The air seamed to have left her lungs on two occasions; when two of the attendants, surely invited by a recipient, reached into their respective pockets, thankfully, not producing a gun. The first time was when the husband of Mary Carpenter, a social worker receiving the George Cross, was scratching his shoulder because his skin itched under the heavy wool of his suit, on the second case, the sister of Sir Christian was searching her pockets for a handkerchief because she was so touched by her brother's knighthood she began crying.

When a woman with her last name beginning with an R was honoured for her achievements to improve the literary education of British youth by getting kids to read, Buffy noticed the housemaids getting ready to serve champagne for the guests after the ceremony. All guests were paying more attention to them, definitely more attentive in the prospect of getting a free glass of champagne than to acknowledge the ceremony. She sighed. Graduation Day, Part two!

Sir Rupert cleared his voice and smiled at her when he announced: "Summers, Buffy Anne. Royal Medal of Courage, for extraordinary awareness and patriotism."

Buffy's knees were weak when she stepped forward and faced Spike.

His blue eyes were even deeper than she remembered them. His hands were trembling so much he dropped the medal. Two attendants were at his side immediately to pick it up from the floor and hand it back to him. The audience giggled.

Spike gave her the ghost of a smile.

Buffy's face was stern.

He placed the decoration on her and took her hand.

"Congratulations, Miss Summers," he said, barely audible.

Her eyes filled with tears. She felt she could not bear his touch any longer.

The journalists moved closer to get a good photo of the woman who had saved the king's life and begged for another moment to take their pictures.

"Miss Summers, here, please!" someone said.

Buffy turned her head to look at the camera. From the corner of her eye, she saw a tall, dark-haired man in a black suit, reach into his jacket. Nobody seemed to pay attention to him. In the brief flashlight of a camera, something metallic glistened as he took it out.

The assassin! He was right in front of them, within a yard of Spike and no one between them.

Buffy did not think twice. Without another thought, she pushed against Spike and thrust him to the floor, drawn with him by the momentum and landing on top of him.

Security reacted at once and rushed forward.

"He's got a gun!" Buffy yelled, pointing at the man.

Secret service men and yeomen of the guard held him and started searching his pockets.

Buffy stared at Spike, still on top of him, so stunned she did not even think of moving.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

He nodded absently, still in a shock.

"Thank God," she whispered, pressing against him. She paused, then looked at him. "Have you been working out a lot? Your muscles feel like steel."

He shrugged apologetically and opened a button of his uniform so Buffy could see a Kevlar vest underneath.

"Oh."

Guards were running towards them to help them to get to their feet, while the press's whole attention had turned to the arrest of the assassin.

Spike ran his fingers through Buffy's hair. "I'm all right... thanks to you."

"I don't know what I'd have done if he had killed you," she said softly. "Spike, I... I didn't mean what I said last night. I don't care if you're the King of England, the Archbishop of Canterbury or the Pope! I love you, and I want to be with you."

Spike stared at her, overwhelmed by her confession.

"Your Majesty," a member of the secret service said.

"Not now," Spike said harshly, still looking at Buffy.

"But Your Majesty..."

"I said NOT NOW!"

"Your Majesty, he hasn't got a gun!"

"WHAT?" Spike walked up to the secret service man. At once, press and security pushed past him, separating him from Buffy.

"No gun," a guard confirmed.

"I was just making sure I had turned my cell phone off," the putative assassin apologized.

"It was just a trick of the light that made the phone look like a gun from where Miss Summers stood," another guard added. "This is Sir Toby of Pickford, you awarded his son knighthood today."

*

"We could all use a glass of champagne after that shock," Sir Rupert tried to save the situation and urged the housemaids to serve the appointed beverages to the guests.

Buffy's face was red. She had made a complete fool of herself.

Willow tried to calm her while order was slowly returning to the ballroom. "You couldn't possibly have known!" she said, "What if he really have had a gun?"

"He didn't, and Spike is wearing a bullet-proof vest!"

"Well, yeah, but he could have been shot in the head!"

"No damage there," Xander remarked. Willow shot him an angry glance.

Buffy shook her head. "If it hadn't been for my little outburst..."

Willow frowned. "Outburst?"

Buffy nodded. "When everyone was paying attention to Sir Toby... I told Spike I love him."

Willow smiled. "But that's great news! Now he knows, and he'll talk to you, and everything will be fine!"

Buffy looked at her doubtfully when Willow pressed a glass of champagne into her hand.

Unexpectedly, Spike drew everyone's attention back to himself. "Ladies and gentlemen, I know this is a little unusual, some people may call it outrageous even, in the light of what's just happened. But there is something I have to say that cannot wait."

Buffy's head flew around.

Spike paused until every camera in the room was focused on him. Only then did he speak again. "In the past few days, my life has been in danger several times, and I have come to realize that death might be just around the corner without our knowing. I have had time to think. About the future of England, and my own. There has been one woman who has always been there for me throughout these difficult times. She is brave, she is clever, she takes care of others and she possesses all the qualities I could possibly wish for in a woman. Rumours in the recent press are correct. I have come to realize my feelings for her run very deep. And she has confirmed only today she feels the same way."

Buffy's heartbeat stopped.

Willow grinned. "See? He's talking about you!" She pushed Buffy a few steps ahead. "Go!" she whispered.

Buffy took a deep breath. She could not believe Spike was doing this in front of all those people. She prepared to walk up to him.

Spike briefly closed his eyes, and then faced the crowd. "I have asked her to marry me, and she said yes. I would like you to meet Lady Winifred Burkle, my fiancée and the future Queen of England."

Under the cheers of the crowd, Fred smiled shyly into the cameras as Spike kissed her cheek.

Buffy was suddenly feeling very dizzy. Her world lost its colour. She stared at Spike.

He met her gaze. His expression was like stone.

Buffy shook her head in disbelief, her eyes filling with tears. "I wish you luck," she said coldly.

Spike opened his mouth to speak, but fell silent as she ran from the room. His fingers lost their grip on the champagne flute, he dropped his glass.

A housemaid was immediately there to clean up the mess.

*

The barrel of the gun shone in the sunlight. Its owner chuckled as he was watching the live broadcast. "You didn't think I would be that stupid, walking right into your trap!" The assassin glanced at the calendar at the wall. "One more week until your coronation, Your Majesty. Enjoy it. And take a good look at your crown. It will be the last thing you'll ever see."

*

Dawn Summers was the first one to pick up the phone. "Helloooo!"

"Dawn? Is that you?"

Dawn's face lit up. "Buffy!"

Buffy smiled. "Hi, Dawnie. How's school?"

"I'm a reserve cheerleader," Dawn announced proudly.

"That's great news," Buffy replied, trying her best to sound happy.

"How's England?"

Buffy did not reply for a moment. She took a deep breath. "Is Mom in?"

"At the gallery."

"Can you tell her something for me?"

"Sure."

"Tell her... tell her I'm coming home. I'm coming home next week."

Dawn was a teenager, but she was not stupid. She heard her sister did not sound happy. "Everything ok?" she asked with concern.

Buffy forced herself to smile, but the smile did not find its way into her voice. "I'm just tired. Tell Mom I'll call her tomorrow."

"Ok. I'm glad you're coming home, Buffy."

"So am I." Buffy hung up before her voice failed her. She fell on her bed; all rolled up in a small ball and started crying. Wish they'd killed you! When she had no more tears and her eyes were all red and puffy, she turned the radio on and started packing her bags to a song by Leonard Cohen.

I’m turning tricks, I’m getting fixed,

I’m back on Boogie Street.

I guess they won’t exchange the gifts

That you were meant to keep.

And quiet is the thought of you,

The file on you complete,

Except what we forgot to do,

A Thousand Kisses Deep.

*

"Sir Rupert, could I have a word with you?"

Buffy's father turned around in surprise. It was not too often that one of the housemaids addressed him. "Of course," he said. "What is the matter, Sally?"

"At the Investiture, His Majesty dropped his glass, and I came to clean it up," Sally explained.

"Yes? So what?"

Without another word, Sally showed him the cloth she had used. There were holes in it. "Those weren't there before," she said, "Personally, I think there was something in the champagne."

"No word to anyone," Sir Rupert ordered, "Give that to me. I'll have it analysed. If I find out you told anyone about this, you can pack your things and look for another job... in Timbuktu. Am I making myself clear?"

"Perfectly."

TBC...