It's Hyacinth Bouquet [Wesley, Hyacinth Bucket]
TITLE: It’s Hyacinth Bouquet
FANDOM: BTVS/Keeping Up Appearances
AUTHOR: Dizzy Flower
CHARACTERS: Wesley, Hyacinth Bucket
SUMMARY: Wesley is called to investigate an infestation of demons at the house of Britain’s snobbiest housewife.
DISCLAIMER: BtVS and Angel belong to Joss Whedon. Keeping Up Appearances belongs to the BBC.
A/N: This is my answer Pairing #514 for the FFA.
Wesley straightened his tie nervously. This would be his first assignment since rejoining the new and improved Watcher’s Council, and he wanted to do a good job. After saying that, though, it was Christmas Eve and Wesley was eager to go back to the comfortable Watcher’s Headquarters and enjoy a bit of eggnog in front of the fire.
However, that would have to wait. His job now was to investigate if the house in front of him was invested with Cilpok demons, and if so organise for a Slayer to come and clean them up. It was a simple job that Wesley hoped could be done in a little less than half an hour.
Wesley took a deep breath and knocked on the door of the house in question. Supposedly the owners had no idea that their house was invested- one of the neighbours had raised the alarm. Wesley had thus concocted a plan so he could check the house without seeming too suspicious or alerting the owners to the presence of the demons.
Wesley was about to knock on the door again when it opened, revealing a large, middle-aged woman wearing a hideous red sweater. He blinked before asking smoothly, “Mrs Bucket, I presume?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “It’s Hyacinth Bouquet,” she intoned airily, and Wesley sighed inwardly. It seemed as if this was going to be harder than he’d thought.
“Mrs Bucket,” Wesley said again, making sure to pronounce her surname correctly (though he had been sure he’d pronounced it right the first time). “May I come in?”
Hyacinth Bucket frowned. “It’s Christmas Eve,” she told him a trifle grumpily. “I’m in the middle of making salads.”
“My name’s Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, and I’m here from the local council. It seems as if there’s been a spate of thefts recently in the area, and as a consequence of this the council has decided to make sure that all homes are burglar-proof.”
Mrs Bucket looked horrified. “Thefts?” She said, sounding worried. “I don’t want anything of mine stolen- I have some rather expensive objects in this house, I’ll have you know. Come in, young man, come in.”
Wesley gave her what he hoped was a comforting smile as he followed Mrs Bucket into the house. “You have a lovely house, Mrs Bucket,” Wesley felt obliged to say, though really it was rather overdecorated for his tastes.
It was obviously the right thing to say, because Mrs Bucket beamed. “Thankyou, Mr Wyndham-Pryce! I really am rather proud of it. Shall I show you my-”
“Perhaps it would be best if I began to look around for possible entries for burglars,” Wesley interrupted smoothly, and Mrs Bucket looked disappointed.
“Yes, of course,” she began, “I’ll show you-”
At that moment the phone rang. Mrs Bucket sighed. “I’d better answer that, she told Wesley. “It’s probably someone very important.”
As she left to answer the phone Wesley walked quickly into the next room. He could hear Mrs Bucket’s phone conversation through the wall.
“This is the Bucket residence, lady of the house speaking!…No, this is not the Chinese takeout, this is a residential number and you are speaking to the lady of the house…No, I do not know the number of the Chinese takeout…”
Wesley’s mouth twitched as he looked around the room.
Cilpok demons usually left tiny holes in the walls where they’d tried to burrow in, but Wesley could see no evidence of such a thing in this room.
“There you are, Mr Wyndham-Pryce! I was wondering where you had gotten to!”
Wesley pasted a fake smile on his face and turned around to face Mrs Bucket. “I was just looking for any evidence of bu-”
“I see you were looking at my photos,” she told him happily, and Wesley realized with growing horror that he was, actually, standing in front of Mrs Bucket’s rather large collection of photographs.
“This is one of my son Sheridan…handsome, isn’t he?” Said Mrs Bucket, reaching for the nearest one.
Wesley made a noise of agreement.
“At University now, of course…and here’s one of my sister Violet, she’s got a Mercedes, swimming pool, and room for a pony…”
“I really should be looking around, Mrs Bucket,” said Wesley a bit desperately. He knew of better ways to spend Christmas Eve than looking at photos of Violet, who had enough room for a pony, and Daisy, who didn’t.
“Nonsense, nonsense,” said Mrs Bucket shrilly. “Richard and I wouldn’t mind at all. In fact, I’ll make you some tea, how about that? Go and sit down wherever you like, I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
With a sinking heart, Wesley walked over to the chairs. It looked as if this job would be taking a bit more than half an hour.
“But not there, Mr Wyndham-Pryce! I always like to face the window!”
Wesley gave a very deep sigh.