Disclaimer: Legal stuff, don't own characters, haven't made any money, this is for entertainment purposes, no profit earned, lawyers go away. –kisses-
Pairings: Buffy/Riley, Tara/Willow, Xander/Anya, Dracula/?
POV: Shifts Perspective
Spoiler Alert: There are tidbits from past episodes. The Dracula mythos naturally plays a part. Also be warned that it will eventually have some Slash-components, I don't think it's real explicit.
Notes: Third story in the Spanderverse-universe, following “Spike”. Everything from the television series through the defeat of Adam also occurred as depicted, in the Spanderverse.
People’s thoughts are depicted in italics. You’ll find emphasis depicted with an underline.
More Notes: BIG thanks to Joss, the ME creative team and the crew of one of the best shows on television.
WE MISS YOU!
For online script reference I want to thank twiztv for script transcripts. I need to thank Bram Stoker, of course, as well as romaniatourism.
Finally, thanks to the authors of Fanfiction wherever you may post. It’s probable that I’ve read at least one of your stories somewhere. I apologize for recycling concepts inadvertently from the plentitude of stories I’ve read. I also feature Xander's folks, and I couldn't find their first names believe it or not: they've become Walter and Peggy Harris.
Ch 1/14: On the Sea
The large vessel was plying across a wind swept sea, its sails being snapped back and forth in their rigging as the storm tried to tear them from the ship and send them out into the dark. On the deck there was no other movement, but that caused by the wind and the sea. The ship raised itself upon wave after wave and then violently crashed down between crests. Its wooden planks groaned and cried at the brutal punishment it was receiving. If there were anyone to give it thought, they may have imagined the ship itself were begging for its life, pleading with the ocean not to batter it into floating debris.
Below decks, lay four coffins. The only cargo the vessel carried. They were securely tied to the supporting beams, keeping them from shifting to and fro by the tumultuous movements of the ship around them. Upon the tightly secured lids of the coffins could be seen an intricate Transylvanian crest. It was adorned with a dragon motif in a deep red, having been hand-crafted upon the lids. The coffins themselves were also hand-crafted and showed hours of meticulous workmanship. The six foot by two foot by two foot boxes were a dark, polished mahogany with brass accents. All of which were polished to a gleaming shine that would show a man’s face as well as any mirror. If, that was, there were any aboard to admire the care and expertise that had gone into their manufacture.
There was no living aboard the vessel. Not since the coffins had been loaded back in the port near the city of
The ship itself, lifeless upon the ocean showed no signs of sinking, though its barren deck continuously was awash with salt water. The sails should have been torn and tattered as they were full to the fury of the storm surrounding the vessel, but they remained defiant. The boat wheel spun furiously, first clockwise and then back counter-clockwise as the storm caught hold of it, and yet the mighty ship’s course never deviated in the slightest. Even as the wind howled and shrieked on its way toward the west, the ship continued to ply its way eastward across the Pacific; facing into the storm.
The storm itself was a mystery. Weather satellites reported the localized low pressure zone moving slowly from west to east about eighty miles south of Hawaii and heading on a trajectory that would, in a month or so if it were to last that long, bring harsh weather to California on the United States coast. Advisories were passed along its route and ships deviated from their own courses to avoid the strange and brutal storm. Not quite typhoon strength, the winds were recorded as hovering around sixty miles per hour.
The passengers of the vessel in the heart of this storm took no note of its struggles to reach its destination. They were comfortably ensconced in their Romanian soil within the coffins the vessel carried.
So the ship continued sailing itself; ignoring the opposing wind and the torrential rain just now beginning. No one was aware of the vessel struggling in the midst of the storm, for no vessel was close enough to detect its presence. Even if a vessel were within radar range of the ship, it would not show on such a device. Even if the Coast Guard had a cutter out in this hellish weather, men’s eyes would glide over the vessel with no recognition, the mind becoming still, but clouded upon seeing its features. On the stern of the vessel, a small carved placard said 'Demeter'.
End Ch 1