Recognizable characters that have appeared in any book, television series or movie, together with the names, titles and backstory, are the sole copyright property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended by the author, and no monetary profit has been made in the writing of this story. However, the story itself, as well as any original characters, are the sole property of the author. Please do not copy the story from this site or post these stories elsewhere without the express written permission of the author.

Authors note: The first chapter of this story is done through the medium of the diaries of four people the slayer, the watcher, and the two men who peruse her with occasional input from Buffy as the reader of the diary and society pages and household accounts taken in context of the time. This first chapter includes only the diaries of the two principle female characters and some setup with Buffy and Giles. Then it reverts to third person as the other method was a little difficult. I'll switch between the two methods where I think the story needs it. All feedback and ideas are welcomed. Please r&r

Eighteenth century girl

A Slayer in a society family

Chapter 1

In the new library of the Slayer Training building, Buffy Summers, the original vampire Slayer, was helping her Watcher Rupert Giles, the new leader of the Watchers Council, unload the Watcher diaries and a few other things contemporary to them. He was explained the new almost scrapbook method he had come up with of compiling all this information, the librarian side of his spirit soaring at the freedom he had had to play about with the historical 'stuff' since the demise of the council.

"So what is all this?" Buffy asked, indicating the volume in her hands with a jerk of her chin.

"That one is one of our most exciting finds." he smiled the joy at being surrounded by all this history "It has the diary of an eighteenth century Watcher, but also that of the Slayer, some media of the time and diaries of some of her contemporaries.

Buffy smiled at the mention of the time remembering her experiences of being a 'normal' girl of that time after being taken over by a Halloween costume provided by Ethan Raine. Her belief at the time had been 'my job is to look pretty, and then someone nice will marry me...possibly a Baron.'

She wondered what it must have been like to actually have been the Slayer in a time when this really was what was expected of women.

She looked at Giles "Can I...?"

"Since when has it mattered what I say?" but he spoke with a smile in his voice "of course, you need to know this anyway. You have to educate the new youth after all."

She settled in a chair, tucked her legs underneath her for comfort and began to read.

January 1785

Miss Farnwood

I am pleased to say that since I came to Miss Attwood, these five years since. I came to a spoiled, over indulged girl who would never be prepared for her destiny. I admit that I even went so far as to question the Council as to whether they had sent me to the right girl, the girl who even after so long seems more concerned with the latest ball season than with the female vampires that flock to these places to eat the eligible bachelors. Though a possible strategy for getting her to focus may be to put the idea into her head that the vampires might be depriving her eligible men may get her to shift her focus to what is really important.

Though to be sure, her marrying is a fairly important to her as the only girl in the family , which only has access to a middle income. It may actually become suspicious if I prevent her from entering the circuit. I may have to contact the Council and try to arrange an advantageous match from within the fold.

She is a very unusual girl in a very unusual situation. A Slayer in a high society family and therefore caught in the constant chaperoning of the time, which makes it even harder for her to function properly in her destined role.

Some Slayers are easier to come by when families knew that the duty of their girls might be different from being sheep, or even, dreadfully they were even more of a salable asset than they are know with this veneer of respectability over it all.

Miss Attwood

My name is Milicent Attwood, the eldest child and only daughter of my family, who are of a modest income and are for now at least of decent social standing. At sixteen I am supposed to be debuting in society soon, and my making a good marriage early in life would mean my family will not have to support me than any longer than is necessary and it could advance my father and brothers if I managed to secure good social connections via my marriage.

Yet somehow, I do not focus on it as much as I should, as much as my compatriots in the same social and economic strata as me do. But maybe, it is because I am the Slayer that I do not. I have seen more of the world than those who I sit with waiting for a dance like a potato sack at the balls. I may not have even been as far in miles as some of them, who have been as far as Spain and the America's, though they do not deign to speak to me often because their families often have a lot more money than we do, but they have not seen a vampire, or even the poor quarter of their own city alone or at night. And they certainly have never dressed in poor boys clothes and their hair tucked under a cap and slipped out of the servants door into the dead of night with a bag full of weapons and a heart full of fear but of the fight as well.

I tell you in this last year since I became the Slayer Miss Fernwood has become an expert dresser as well as the governess who has taught me French and music and how to hold my cup properly in society. She is also my Watcher, who has taught me Ancient Sumerian and how to use a crossbow. And who gave up a life and a marriage and the reality of womanhood in our time to tutor me, to lie for me and to keep me alive.

2007

Buffy Summers raised her eyes from the book "And I thought I had it tough."

"In fairness you did just not as tough as either of them did."

Buffy returned her attention to the book.