Disclaimer: Joss owns the BTVS characters. I own Reagan.

Feedback is really really very much appreciated. Special thanks to Bloodytearsoflife, who kindly Beta-ed this chapter for me and provided some wonderful suggestions.
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Chapter 1: Underwood and Fairchilde

Elizabeth Cecily Underwood fanned herself as she stood in the parlour of Mrs. John Chambers. It was unreasonably hot in the room, and Buffy, as she was known only to her closest friends, was dying to leave this party.

She couldn’t believe that her watcher had actually accepted this invitation on her behalf. She knew that the Scourge of Europe had been making the rounds of parties in fashionable London, but honestly, there was only so much that she could possibly put up with.

“Oh Miss Underwood?”

Buffy turned to the voice and smiled sweetly.

“Mrs. Chambers,” she acknowledged with a small bow of her head.

“Miss Underwood, I hope that you are enjoying yourself this evening?”

“Oh yes, Mrs. Chambers, delightfully so. I only stepped this way because of the dreadful heat.” Buffy fanned herself for emphasis of her point.

“Oh yes I understand Miss Underwood. The weather has been extremely warm of late. Perhaps some punch, Miss Underwood?”

“Oh yes, thank you Mrs. Chambers.”

Mrs. Chambers scurried away and Buffy rolled her eyes imperceptibly behind her fan. Mrs. Chambers was the niece of the current head of the Watcher’s Council, and though it was doubtful that she knew that Miss Underwood, Buffy, was in fact the slayer, it was clear that Mrs. Chambers knew her to be a person of importance to her uncle.

Buffy looked upon the mantle piece and the clock that resided there. This evening would never ever end! Luckily Buffy caught a glimpse of someone she did want to talk to. Mrs. Chambers, delightful woman that she was, had employed Mr. Fairchilde to bring her punch.

“M..Miss...C..Cecily, Mrs. Chambers bade me bring you punch.” Mr Fairchilde held out the cup with a shaky hand.

Buffy dipped her head and took the offered cup, making sure to brush her hand against his. The brief contact sending tingles down her arm. She flashed the young man with curly brown hair a dazzling smile.

Buffy had been introduced into society by her middle name and generally she didn’t mind that no one knew that her first name was Elizabeth. But, she thought, I wouldn’t mind if William Fairchilde knew it.

She really liked him. He was sweet and unassuming, kind and thoughtful. And she had a sneaking suspicion that he liked her too, or at least he wrote poetry about her. She only wished that he wasn’t so nervous around her all the time. They usually spent the more boring parties talking together, in a manner that even Buffy’s best friend had commented that Mr Fairchilde’s attentions had begun to turn in a serious direction.

“Thank you Mr. Fairchilde, I am sure,” Buffy said, looking into her companion‘s clear blue eyes. “I had not expected you here this evening.”

“Oh, no Miss Cecily, I had not an...anticipated my attendance either,” William replied, nervously brushing a wavy lock of hair from his forehead and readjusting his glasses.

“So it seems that fate has brought us together once more then,” added Buffy, taking a small sip of her punch.

“A f..fanciful notion, Miss Cecily.”

Buffy fluttered her eye lashes. “Perhaps Mr. Fairchilde, but a wonderful notion all the same.”

That comment had actually sent him into a blush. Buffy smiled and sipped her punch again.

“Some of the other ladies were discussing the formation of a musical club,” noted Buffy. “It often plagues me that I was not given the opportunity to learn the pianoforte.”

“To be sure Miss Cecily, it is a great loss.”

Their conversation was interrupted as Mrs. Chambers once more appeared at Buffy’s side.

“Mr Giles is at the door Miss Underwood. He says it’s urgent.”

Buffy immediately put down the cup of punch with a frown. The evening had just turned interesting. Buffy offered her apologies to Mr. Fairchilde and bade him a cordial farewell. If Giles was at the door, then it was serious indeed. He hated Mrs. Chambers with a passion.

Buffy turned briefly to look at her former companion in conversation once before making the turn towards the door and losing sight of him.

Stepping into the entrance of the house Buffy noticed at once that her watcher was livid. He had been kept waiting in the entrance by the hostess’ orders. Mrs Chambers disliked Mr. Giles as much as he did her.

“We’d best be away Buffy, there is evil afoot,” said the watcher in a low tone.

“Isn’t there always?” the slayer commented, taking her wrap from the butler and heading out after her retreating watcher who didn’t even bother to say a polite goodbye to the hostess of the evening.

Edmund Giles was always a man who understated the obvious. If he said that there was evil afoot, it must have been very serious indeed.

“What is this evil that I am to fight?” she asked as they walked.

“The Scourge.”

The colour left Buffy’s face. The Scourge. Angelus, Darla and Drusilla. The vampires that had killed most of her hometown only weeks after she had been chosen. The vampires that had killed her father.

“Where are they?”

“Kensington.”

That meant a carriage ride, she thought ruefully.

“We are not going to confront them tonight. Tonight, we prepare. My intelligence on the group has indicated that they have only just acquired the house they are in now.”

“I am not to confront them tonight?”

“No.”

“Mr. Giles! Pray excuse the outburst, I am ready. I have been training to confront Angelus and his brides for years, surely you cannot deny me this!”

Giles looked at his slayer. “Buffy, you cannot battle against the Scourge this way, headstrong and impulsive. It will only lead to your death. We must prepare for the impending conflict.”

“Angelus killed my father Giles,” Buffy added quietly.

“Yes, I am well aware of that fact Buffy.”

“Then you know why I have to kill him,” she said before turning and continuing on her way.
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Buffy, dressed in her training clothes: a pair of boy’s breaches and shirt, struck out at her watcher, who was holding pads to protect himself. They had been ‘preparing’ for two hours now and Giles was starting to show that he was tired.

“You should have seen William Fairchilde once you left the party,” came a voice from the doorway.

Buffy turned to see her best friend, Reagan, standing in the doorway. Reagan was the daughter of another watcher and one of the few women her own age that the Council allowed her to associate with.

“Did he say anything?” asked Buffy, instantly forgetting the presence of her watcher in light of this new topic of conversation.

“He was most disappointed that you left. I think he retreated into a corner to write more poetry. I don’t understand how you put up with his simpering and stuttering,” said Reagan with an honest look to her face.

“He is a good man, and a brilliant soul. There is something intensely pure about him,” said the slayer wistfully.

“I will have to take your word for it Buffy. Personally, it is a wonder he even leaves his house.”

“He leaves his house to see me,” said the slayer with a smile on her face.

“You aren’t thinking about marrying him are you?” asked Reagan bluntly.

“Why not? He’s a nice man, and he seems to like me a great deal. He may not be the wealthiest man in society, but then he isn’t a pauper. I like him Reagan, so...should he make me an offer...I do not think that I will reject him.”

“Mrs. Elizabeth Fairchilde,” said Reagan smiling.

“Mrs. Cecily Fairchilde,” corrected Buffy.

“Pray, tell me that your husband will know your proper name?”

“Yes,” said Buffy rolling her eyes. “I just prefer that society knows me by the name Cecily.”

“Miss Underwood, could we possibly, resume our training for the evening?” said Giles annoyed.

Buffy blushed a little and looked sheepish.

“Please forgive me Mr. Giles,” said Buffy moving once more into a fighting stance preparing to hit the pads Giles was holding.

“I do not understand your penchant for social attachments. I would have hoped the lesson of your father’s death would have made you wary to bringing any other persons into your life,” lectured the watcher.

“A girl can’t be lonely forever Giles.”
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Reagan and Buffy were escorted home by a council guard. Buffy certainly didn’t need an escort, but Reagan did, and there were appearances to be kept up.

“Buffy, surely Mr. Giles will tell you to break off your friendship with Mr. Fairchilde? The last slayer was forced to break off her engagement when she was called,” said Reagan.

Buffy really didn’t want to think about it. Of course it was always a possibility. She had heard the stories too; of the chosen ones being forced to give up friends, family and lovers in an effort to keep them safe. She knew a little about the matter actually. She had hesitated when the council wanted her to leave her family. She hadn’t kept her father safe, and that’s why he was dead.

Angelus had decided to make her his next pet project, and her father and half of her town had paid for it.

Mr. Giles had spent a month trying to convince Buffy to leave her family when she had been first chosen. By the time she finally agreed to be trained, the Scourge had already tracked down Buffy, the next slayer, so that Angelus could have the honour of making her his pet. So, alone in London, fast friends with Reagan, Buffy was blissfully unaware when the Scourge massacred her village. Buffy was an orphan in the Council’s care.

The truth was, that with the exception of Reagan, Buffy had no friends of her own. Everyone was a watcher’s something. She lived with the Travers family, a family who had been watchers for eons. She had been taken there when she was brought to London for her training. Mr. Giles was a bachelor and it was unseemly for Buffy live with him alone in his small but fashionable flat.

The Travers twins, Miranda and Felicity had been potential slayers at one time and had taken an instant dislike to Buffy at once, as she had committed the grievous sin of being chosen. The mutual dislike had turned to bullying on the part of the twins and icy glares on the part of Buffy.

There wasn’t a day in which Buffy didn’t curse the day she was called.

Buffy left Reagan at the door, bidding her friend goodnight and in the company of the Council’s escort and trudged up to her room. Miranda and Felicity were already in bed, snoring away. Buffy thanked the Lord for small blessings.

Buffy sat down in her small room and lit a candle. She fumbled around for a few moments before bringing a journal out of a hiding spot. The worn book, which had seen tears and anger, had been bound and rebound, was held closed by a blue ribbon.

Undoing the delicate ribbon, Buffy opened the journal to reveal a few well loved photographs. The eyes that stared back at her were familiar and any stranger who happened across the photos would know at once that the individuals shown there were family.

Buffy wiped a tear from her cheek and placed the photos of her father, mother and little sister back into the journal. She secured the book with the blue ribbon and set about dressing for bed.

Buffy had no lady’s maid, unlike the Travers twins. She had to do up her own corset every morning. There were times she felt that she was a second class citizen in her adoptive home. That was why she fantasized about marrying and getting away from the sneers and jeers of the Travers home.

The problem was that she wasn’t a normal girl. Reagan was destined to be a watcher. Miranda and Felicity too. Buffy would be a slayer until she died, which probably wasn’t far off.

Buffy slipped in between the covers and settled down to a restless sleep. The Scourge were in town. Maybe her death was closer than she thought.
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The next day Buffy was called into the board room of the Watcher’s Council and was faced with seven dour looking old men sitting around a rectangular table and staring disapprovingly at her.

“It has come to our attention Miss Underwood that you are harbouring feelings towards one William Fairchilde.”

“I am,” she admitted.

Buffy realised her mistake right away. She should have never discussed William in front of Giles. Or in the Council’s training room, where eyes and ears were always at key holes. No one could keep a secret from the Council.

“You are aware, I should hope, that any relationship you anticipate to have with this young man is not only dangerous to yourself, but also to him,” said Mr. Quinn, the head of the council.

“Yes, Sir,” said Buffy looking down at the ground.

“Therefore, you are hereby ordered to make it clear to the young man that there will be no further relations between you.”

Buffy looked up in shock at the head watcher.

“You can’t make me do that!” she protested, her heart breaking.

“You are Our Slayer, Miss Underwood. You will do as we say, or we will take steps to provide ourselves with a Slayer that is more obedient.”

Buffy hung her head. She had heard this threat before. The same threat that she had obeyed with in the past, leaving her family unprotected in their small hamlet of a village in Sussex. She had obeyed then too. Self preservation, a key ingredient to the council’s program of control by fear.

“So that’s it then? I break his heart and you let me live?” she asked, not needing the clarification that it provided.

“Essentially.”
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tbc...