Reflection of Love

Title: Reflection of Love
Author: Pattyanne snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Summary: AU. Buffy has inherited a house where she finds a mirror in the attic. A mirror that belonged to William Cathcart more than 100 years ago.

Part four....


The picture in the mirror was becoming sharper and more focused. Buffy could see the rest of the room with far more clarity, and it puzzled her as much as William's clothing had.

Heavy, ornate looking furniture dominated the bedroom. It was just the sort of antique pieces that her mother had liked so much. But they didn't look all that old.

The bed was massive. A fourposter behemoth with a brocade canopy, it had several fat looking pillows piled up against the dark walnut headboard, and there was a heavy down quilt spread over it's surface. There was a large roll top desk, covered with sheets of paper in total disarray, a dresser, an armoire, and a...a washstand with a china pitcher and bowl, and a cabinet underneath.

"Is there someone in here?"

His voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Yes, hi! I'm here. Sort of, I mean," she blurted out before thinking. "Gosh, this feels weird. Kind of spooky...don't you think? If I didn't know better, I'd think I was on Candid Camera. Or maybe that other show on MTV...the one with the practical jokes. Not that they're funny, but still..."

The man whirled around and stared straight ahead, almost as though he was looking into her eyes. His face was white with shock, and he whipped off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "What...what sort of witchcraft is this?" he demanded. "Show yourself!"

Buffy sighed. "I can't. I mean, I don't know how. And it's not witchcraft. I am NOT a witch."

William was walking slowly towards her. Could he somehow see her, as well?

"Hi!" she said again, raising one hand and wiggling her fingers in a friendly manner.

"I...uh..." he stammered, staring more intently. "Who is...is speaking?"

"That would be me," she said, trying to sound very non-threatening. He already looked a little nervous and she didn't want to scare him out of the room. "I'm Buffy."


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When he heard the girl speak, William's heart began to race and his hands grew clammy. Not because there was anything frightening about it, but because it sounded familiar in some way.

She spoke with an odd accent, using words and phrases that he had no knowledge of. Her voice was soprano in register, almost child like in it's eager friendliness, and for some strange reason...he wanted to speak with her.

He had already been able to deduce that her voice was emanating from his mirror, and when he decided to get closer, he noticed that the glass had gone a bit cloudy.

Then, it began to clear and he found himself looking into the face of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen...although she was dressed in the most scandalous fashion.

It appeared that she was garbed in a pair of mens trousers with the legs cut off. Her slender legs were completely bare from her mid-thighs down to her toes, and she wore no shoes or stockings.

His face felt warm and he was quite certain he was blushing.

Her upper body was in a piece of red fabric that seemed painted on her. It had no sleeves, and the midriff ended just above her...Good Lord...her navel! It was brazenly on display...a shallow little indentation in a waist that appeared to be so tiny that he could surely span it within his hands.

The girl was nearly naked! And she was quite undisconcerted by it!

Her hair was...oh, it was glorious. A thick, shiny mass of honey and golden brown, she wore it loose, contributing to her already unconventional appearance. It tumbled around her face in soft looking waves that made his fingers itch to touch it.

Shocking! Absolutely shocking!

But...lovely, as well.

As he moved closer, he was able to see her face more and more clearly. It was just as beautiful as he would have expected an angel to be. Her skin was fair and flawless, with a golden glow he'd never seen on any of the girls he associated with, as though it had been just lightly kissed by a summer sun.

She had large green eyes framed with lush, dark lashes that gave her a luminous gaze...and a rather forward stare.

When she smiled and waved her small hand, she displayed perfectly straight, white teeth. Not one of them was even the slightest bit out of place.

"I'm Buffy," he heard her say, and he automatically started to put out his hand, forgetting completely that she was on the other side of a mirror.

Struck dumb by her beauty, he stammered out his own name, all thoughts of Cecily Underwood disappearing from his brain permanently.

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He was even cuter close up, Buffy decided. She just loved that thick, tousled head of hair, and the boyishly bemused expression on his...startlingly attractive...face.

And his eyes were blue! A beautiful shade of blue that she suspected probably changed colors with his moods. He looked very intelligent, and a little whimsical, both at the same time.

Maybe it was the clothes. Where in the world did he live, that people still dressed that way?

Well...there was only one way to find out!

"So," she said brightly, "Where are you from?" It sounded like a pick-up line in a bar, but it was all she could come up with.

He looked surprised, as if he wasn't accustomed to being asked such questions by a woman.

"Uh...from London," he finally replied. "My home is in...in Belgrave Square."

Buffy grinned widely. "London, England?" she asked, then felt foolish. Of course it was London, England.

William nodded. "That's correct."

He ducked his head, shyly...and Buffy just wanted to hug him, it was so adorable. This was so much fun, that she was no longer wondering just how the hell it was happening. She honestly didn't care anymore.

"If...if I may be so bold as to ask..." he began uncertainly.

"Sure. Go ahead. Ask me anything!" **Like if I have a boyfriend...or if I might be available some evening.**

"Where are YOU from? I...I don't wish to seem vulgarly curious, but you're most oddly dressed and I wondered..."

"I'M oddly dressed?" The words were out before she could stop them. "Have you taken a look in a mirror lately?"

He frowned. "I happen to be looking in one at this exact moment," he replied. "And, for some reason, I'm seeing you and not my own reflection. However, I can assure you that my manner of dress is completely...."

"Wait a minute!" she yelped, holding up one hand. "You see me...in a mirror?"

"Well, I...yes. The mirror in my..." His cheeks reddened again, and he cleared his throat. "My bedroom."

Buffy felt a shiver run down her spine. "William...I'm looking in a mirror, too. I can see YOU in it, but not myself. It's like...like a television screen."

"A...I beg your pardon? What kind of screen?"

"Television," she enunciated clearly, thinking he had simply not heard correctly. "You know...TV."

He just looked at her, blankly, shaking his head. "I'm afraid I don't understand. What exactly is a...a TV?"

She snorted a laugh. "What...you don't have TV in England? I know that's not true. I've seen Masterpiece Theater, and...and...."

His expression was sincerely bewildered. It was clear that he didn't have the slightest notion what she was referring to.

"You're serious, aren't you? You've never seen a television program?"

"Quite serious. What is it?"

Buffy shook her head. An idea of exactly what might be happening was beginning to form in her brain, but it was so ludicrous...so completely inconceivable...that she couldn't bring herself to take it seriously.

"I'll...I'll tell you later," she said absently. "Um...you had asked me something before..."

He thought for a moment. "Ah, yes! I had asked you where you're from, then we went off on a tangent about our clothing and...you didn't answer."

She took a deep breath. "I'm from California," she said briefly. "Sunnydale, California."

"California? In the United States?" He seemed excited by the information. "I've always wanted to see America, but my mother isn't up to traveling and I couldn't leave her alone here. Is it...very savage?"

Buffy shrugged. "Depends on where you go," she murmured. "William," she asked quietly, "this is probably going to sound like I'm insane, but could you tell me what year it is...where you are?"

He laughed. "Well, I should imagine it's the same year where you are, of course. Eighteen-hundred and eighty. Do you...are you all right?"

Buffy staggered backwards and sat down on the floor, her legs having given out.

"Miss Buffy?" He sounded frantic. "Are you well? Do you feel faint?"

When she finally gathered her wits about her, she stared at him, wide eyed. "William...it's not eighteen hundred and eighty where I am," she said, her voice shaky.

"What do you mean? How could it not be?"

"I don't know how. All I know...for a fact...is that the year is...two-thousand and four. It's a hundred and
twenty-four years later than you think."

Her heart was booming in her chest like a kettle drum.

The mirror. Somehow, it had connected them not only across the ocean...but across time as well!

TBC.....