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!


Rating: Up to NC-17 (It's getting there, it's getting there!)

Summary: Buffy inherits a house and finds an antique mirror in the attic, a mirror that was once owned by William Cathcart over a hundred years ago.

Part five....


Well, the girl was obviously deranged, William decided, taking a step back from the mirror. Lovely in face and form, but mad as a March Hare.

"This is insane," she muttered.

Yes. His thoughts exactly. No sane person would dress in such a way or invent such ludicrous tales. From the future, indeed!

And yet....

Was this not already the most unbelievable situation he'd ever found himself in? Something he would never have imagined possible just moments ago?

Because whether or not he accepted her bizarre suggestion of time travel, he WAS conversing with her through a piece of mirrored glass. If such a thing was truly happening, could ANYTHING be too far fetched?

"You believe me...don't you?"

Did he? Could he make such a leap of faith?

She was back on her feet now, close to the mirror once again. Her smooth brow was furrowed, her expression worried, and he suddenly felt a desperate need to comfort her, to ease that particular distress.

"I...I suppose I must," he replied, tugging nervously at his cravat.

"Because for a minute you were looking at me like I just escaped from the nut house."

"From...from the what?"

"The nut house. You know...the cracker factory. Laughing academy? Loony Bin?" She sighed at his continuing confusion. "The place they put the crazy people."

"Oh! You mean the asylum for the insane?"

"Yeah. But I'm not!"

"I never imagined that you were," William said gallantly.

Buffy smirked. "Oh, come on...not even for a second?" she asked, placing both hands on her hips.

William found himself smiling back. "Well...perhaps for a moment," he confessed. "But if what you claim is true..how can such a thing be?"


**************************************

It was a good question, and Buffy was unable to answer wit without causing even more confusion for the poor boy.

How could she explain this to him? She believed and accepted it by virtue of the fact that she'd been raised in an age of fantastic possibilities. Things that were commonplace to her would seem like unimaginable fairy tales to William.

What if she were to tell him what the next hundred years had in store; of electricity and automobiles...of splitting the atom...of space travel? Wouldn't that all seem just as preposterous as what was happening now?

And not only had she grown up in an age of true miracles, but she'd cut her teeth on fantasy and science fiction.

When a person has seen dozens of movies and read countless books, from Jules Verne and H.G. Wells all the way up to Stephen King and William Gibson, they're slightly more inclined to believe in the utterly unbelievable.

"I don't know," she finally said. "I can't explain it...and I'm not sure I want to."

"What do you mean? Why would you not want to?"

Looking into his gentle blue eyes, Buffy shivered as a wave of excitement passed through her. She felt more attracted to the young man on the opposite side of the mirror than she'd ever felt to any flesh and blood male that had passed through her life.

This experience was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to her. Strange and inexplicable, yes...but amazing and wonderful as well, and she didn't want to question it too closely.

"It's just...well, if it's magic," she said, lowering her voice to a whisper, "then I don't want to disturb it. I don't want to do anything that might make it go away."

On the other side of the mirror, William stepped closer. "Magic?" he asked softly.

Buffy smiled. God, he was adorable.

"Oh, William...don't you feel it, too?"

*********************************************

Yes, he felt it. He wanted to shout the words out loud.

He'd felt it the moment he'd heard her voice, the instant he'd seen her face.

It WAS magic. It had to be. Even if there was a logical and scientific explanation for this occurrence, William was convinced it would still be secondary to its true nature. Nothing this wonderful could be anything other than the most fantastical enchantment.

Miss Buffy was right. Some things were better left unexplained.

William had no idea why HE had been chosen to be on the other end of this splendid encounter, but he had no intention of turning away from it.

"I do feel it," he said earnestly. "And...it's magical."

If possible, her smile became even brighter at his words. Her green eyes...well, they sparkled. There was simply no other way to describe it. Like starlight...or the sun dancing on water...or...or diamonds! No...emeralds. What rhymes with emeralds?

He began automatically cross referencing in his brain, searching for words he could use to describe this golden haired angel in prose...then he met her gaze and those thoughts were put aside.

This could very well end as suddenly and unexpectedly as it had begun, and he was not going to waste any time trying to come up with pretentious phraseology designed to impress his peers with his intelligence. He didn't want to write about this girl.

He wanted to talk to her, spend time with her, learn all there was to know about her.

Especially why she dressed in such a provocative fashion.

Was that the way young ladies were garbing themselves in the year two thousand and four? If so, he couldn't imagine how a gentleman could possibly concentrate on the daily business of living.

Why, he was finding it difficult remembering to breathe with her standing before him in such...abbreviated garments.

"You're staring."

Her voice shocked him out of his trance, and his face flushed with shame.

"Oh...I...I do beg your pardon," he stammered. "It's just that...well, I...I...I'm sorry."

How atrociously rude! To stand here and gape at a lady in such forward manner! This cad-like behavior was completely unlike him. Mother would be.....

"It's all right. William. Come on...look at me. Please?"

Even in the extremes of his embarrassment, he could refuse her nothing. Reluctantly, he lifted his eyes to meet her direct gaze. "Miss Buffy...I don't know how to..."

"William," she cut in. "It's all right for you to look at me."

She tilted her head a little, giving him the cheekiest smile he'd ever seen.

"Do you like looking at me?"

Her hands were clasped behind her back, a position that thrust her breasts forward enticingly.

All the blood that had rushed to his face, now redirected itself to points south.

"Do you?"

Oh, good lord! She was speaking to him...and she obviously expected a coherent answer.

"Yes," he said, his voice sounding strained to his own ears. "I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."


***************************************

Highly pleased at his compliment, Buffy was equally thrilled by the expression in his eyes.

The lovely blue of his iris had darkened behind his spectacles, giving them an intensity that could easily steal a girl's breath away.

She would give anything to be able to reach through that mirror and remove those spectacles, to smooth that unruly lock of hair back from his brow, to trace her fingers over the high arch of his cheekbones.

Would it shock him, if he knew what she wanted to do with him?

After all, wasn't 1880 part of England's 'Victorian Age'? A time when, if she remembered her history properly, everyone was operating under a strict set of moral standards imposed by the queen, its prudery taken to sometimes ridiculous extremes.

It was a time when you couldn't even SAY the word 'leg' in mixed company, let alone expose them.

No wonder he'd been staring. Had he ever seen a woman's bare legs before? Or any OTHER part, for that matter? If not...maybe it was time he did.

It was a tantalizing thought.

Just how innocent was he?


TBC....
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