Rating: PG 16 so far.
Couple: Willow / Spike
Disclaimer: Joss owns all - I don't pretend that any of this is mine (how I wish....) Cheers.
Summary: Willow gets some alarming news that shows she is not who she thinks she is; and why are the Council and Wolfram & Hart so interested in her?
Feedback: Uh huh.
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~Part: 1~
"No. There must be some kind of mistake. You’re definitely wrong."
"We don’t make those kinds of mistakes Ms Rayne."
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and exhaled slowly desperately trying to overcome the urge to begin a panicked panting that would only cause her to hyperventilate and faint. Things were already bad enough as it stood – she didn’t need to add extreme embarrassment to the list.
"My name is not Rayne. That is what I have been trying to tell you, my parents are-"
"Ms Ra..er, Miss. We KNOW who your parents are. That is why we are here."
She threw her arms up in a helpless gesture before sliding heavily into the nearest chair.
"This is insanity, you know that right? I mean, come on, isn’t just a little TOO fortuitous that the best friend of the Slayer would also happen to be the supposed daughter of…of..that snake."
"Be that as it may, the facts remain the same. I suggest you take a day or two to resign yourself to that. We will of course, need to speak to you again regarding the matter."
She had her head buried in her hands and didn’t bother to look up until she heard the soft click of the front door signaling the departure of her unexpected ‘guests’.
How could this possibly be true? She might not have the greatest relationship with her parents but she had never had any cause to doubt they weren’t her REAL parents. She even had the same red hair as her Mother! No. they had to be wrong she knew who she was – Willow Ann Rosenberg! Not….not….Willow Ann Rayne. Not Ethan Rayne’s daughter. Please not Ethan Rayne’s daughter!
Spike watched through narrowed eyes from across the street as the line of carbon copy people filed out of the front door of the witch’s house. He had seen them arrive and knew they had been there for an hour or so, he was lucky that he had been running late for his meeting with the witch. Two minutes earlier and he would have found himself surrounded by…..the Watchers’ Council. That’s definitely who they were. He could smell a watcher a mile off and these tweed-coated twits just stank of the Council.
So back to the $64 000 question, what were they doing here in Sunnyhell? More importantly, what the hell were they doing at Red’s? Had Red been expecting them?
Flipping his half finished cigarette away he made his way quickly across the street and slid uninhibited through the front door of the comfortable Californian bungalow undetected by Willow who was still seated dejectedly in the chair, face in hands, breathing raggedly and struggling not to cry.
"What’s going on, Witch?"
~~~*~~~
Lindsey struggled to keep the disgust from showing on his face. The slimy little bastard before him had successfully illustrated the most basic failing of humankind. Shit, his behavior had been more dishonorable and despicable than pretty much all of the hell beasts and demons he had dealt with so far. But Holland had gone to great lengths to impress upon him the fact that this man was a powerful ally who just happened to have an unlikely connection to their priority one project – Angel.
Lindsey swallowed the rapidly rising bile and smiled vacantly "Mr Rayne, you believe that Willow Rosenberg is the key to ensuring the return of Angelus?"
Ethan nodded smugly drawing deeply on the Cuban cigar he had been offered by Lindsey McDonald upon entering his office half an hour earlier. "She’s best friends with the Slayer, she returned Angel’s soul to him, got him out of the hell dimension – and she’s my daughter."
Yeah, she’s your only child and you’re willing to sell her out, you piece of shit. "So Mr Rayne, you think Miss Rosenberg may prove to be the person best placed to assist us with our current…..situation."
"Absolutely. Just call her trigger!"
Always aware that the ears had walls in Wolfram and Hart, Lindsey decided that he had better get on with the task at hand. He might not like this little scum bag, but he had to admit that the very thought of bringing the mighty Angel down was so appealing that he was more than happy to ignore his misgivings.
~~~*~~~
Spike sighed unnecessarily and rolled his eyes, however there was no one about to see his theatrics. No, this was a call he would most definitely have to make in the privacy of this crusty public phone booth. He had promised Red he wouldn’t be spilling the beans to her mates and while Spike was a demon’s demon, he didn’t renege on his promises. He didn’t usually make them.
Still, what she had told him was disturbing to say the least. Being the kind hearted little soul that she was, she had no idea how the more disturbing aspects of her newly acquired news might affect her in the future. Her trusting nature would be her downfall, but Spike had first hand and extensive knowledge of the Watchers’ Council, he knew what they were capable of – despite the reassurances he was sure they would give, he knew that they represented a grave danger to the girl. He had urged her to speak to Giles, knowing that the watcher would immediately come to the same conclusions as he himself had, but Giles had been the one Willow was most afraid would find out, and in her distress she had managed to get him to promise not to tell.
"Getting bloody soft." He snarled to himself as he punched in the digits to a phone number no one would ever believe he had memorized.
"Angel Investigations we help the hopeless"
"Wanna speak to the Poof"
"Spike…….what the hell do you want?"
"Just get my Sire, Cheerleader, haven’t got time to flirt with you."
"Ewwwww as if!"
"Get. Peaches. Now."
"Alright, shesh! Rude, much?"
Spike kicked at the side of the phone booth absently while the Cheerleader wandered off to find his almighty poofiness. Now Peaches didn’t breathe, but Spike knew the moment he picked up the phone nonetheless. "We have a problem, mate. It’s Willow."
~~~*~~~
Angel hung his head in an uncharacteristic display of exhaustion. Since his somewhat stilted conversation with his Childe 48 hours earlier he hadn’t stopped. Spike was right – the news that Willow’s father was Ethan Rayne was bad. What made it worse was the news that the Council had decided to make Willow their ‘business’.
Like any powerful and ostensibly secret organization, the Councils’ motives concerning the little witch were suspect at the very least. Conspiracy theorists - as crazy as they often sounded - couldn’t be paranoid enough where the Watchers were concerned. Historically their actions rivaled those of the KGB or even the CIA in duplicity and even evil – which of course naturally led one to comparisons with Wolfram and Heart.
This was where the shit had really hit the fan. In the midst of his hasty arrangement making with his Childe, Spike had raised the question of Ethan’s whereabouts. Believing that information to be of secondary importance to that of Willow’s immediate safety, Angel had sent Cordelia and Wesley on a fact finding mission to see if the traitorous bastard could be tracked down while he and Spike organized a safe house for Willow.
Angel slammed one large booted foot angrily against his desk. Wes and Cordy had found Ethan alright. Right under their noses in fact. Ethan Rayne was currently enjoying the hospitality of Wolfram and Hart! The coincidence was a little too much for Angel and he had to agree with his furious Childe – it looked as though Willow was about to become the center of a three-way tug of war. Wolfram and Heart V’s Watchers’ Council, Vs Angel and Spike. There was no other way to look at it. Things were about to get nasty. Capital N.
~~~*~~~
One of the more salient features of Spike’s personality was his laid back almost uncaring demeanor under pressure. He never dropped the ball; he was always ‘up for it’. While his style was a little more showy than that of his silently brooding Sire, he was nonetheless, a chip off the old blockhead in this regard. He got the job done. Maybe that was why his nervous pacing and obvious concern was scaring the shit out of Willow.
"Spike?"
He spun to face her hearing the worry in her quiet voice. "It’s alright, Pet. Me and the Poof are gonna take care of it."
She frowned in concentration for a moment before speaking again. "But I don’t understand, Spike. What exactly are we supposed to take care of? I mean I’m scared, but I don’t know what I’m scared of – Spike what’s going on, why are you so worried?"
He cocked his head to the side and thought for a moment "The Council has been around for a very long time, Pet. They’re even older than Peaches! Well, no organization lasts that long unless they’re good at what they do right?"
Willow nodded "I guess that makes sense. Yeah"
"Right then. What is the Council’s core business then luv?"
"They fight evil, train the Slayers…you know that, Spike why-"
"Let me explain it to you, Pet. Something Angelus taught me well was to know your enemy. He wasn’t wrong; it’s always the key to victory. Kind of like you Scooby kids with your research, without it the Slayer is going in blind – know your enemy." He stopped for a moment while she mulled this theory over and lit himself a cigarette. She was a smart kid wouldn’t take her long to get her head around the concept.
"To be as successful as the Council has been and for so long, they have had to know their enemy – evil. They have spend centuries fighting evil on evil’s own terms, the line between good and evil becomes blurred, Pet. "
Willow’s eyes widened momentarily "You mean that the Council has been so good at the fighting evil gig, because they’re so good at it themselves – evil that is. They know what the baddies are gonna do even before they do it because all they have to do is think – what would we do in this situation?"
He grinned. "Precisely." And then he shrugged before continuing. "Sides, the motivating factors for humans and demons are the same – power and control – we’ve all got that in common, pet."
She smiled spectacularly for a moment pleased, as she always was when she obtained some new piece of knowledge that she could store away in her considerable mind to bring out later to build upon and even improve, but then she remembered that this was why the Council should be considered a potential threat. To her. "Man, if they were willing to put their own Slayer through that test on her 18th birthday and let Angel die, imagine how insignificant my life must be to them!"
Spike quickly dropped to his knees before the witch who was curled in his crypt’s one and only chair "I wouldn’t say your life was insignificant to them, Pet. You are obviously important to them in some way. We just don’t know how yet…and while they may not necessarily be interested in killing you off – in fact I doubt they are, you’d already be dead if that was the case – it doesn’t mean what they have planned for you is any more pleasant than, say, murder."
Willow screwed her eyes shut tightly for a moment. She wasn’t brave like Buffy, she was comfortable with her ‘behind the scenes’ involvement in their daily struggle against the hell mouth, she wasn’t used to being the focus of things like Buffy always was, she wasn’t equipped to deal with it.
"We really should talk to the Watcher, Red."
Her eyes shot open and she grabbed at Spike’s jacket desperately "No! You promised, Spike. We can’t tell Giles! Please!"
If her panicked words weren’t enough to convince him the fear he could smell emanating from her and the sudden pounding heartbeat would have been enough evidence to assure him that she believed Giles finding out about Ethan being her father as a fate worse than anything the Watchers’ Council had in store.
He looked down at her consideringly and came to a slow understanding. The chit considered Giles her father; she was obviously terrified that if he learned of her parentage she would somehow lose him. He supposed she was a good deal more vulnerable to that kind of insecurity than most, particularly since her own parents were so negligent and uncaring. With the Dog and Witchypoo leaving her too, he supposed she had some serious abandonment issues. Spike understood about abandonment issues. Angelus, Dru……..Yeah, Spike understood all too well.
"Alright then, enough of the dramatics, witch. Get your shit together Peaches is expecting us and his royal poofiness hates to be kept waiting ya know."
~~~*~~~
Cordelia watched her brooding boss over the top of her Marie Clare as he paced nervously back and forth across the hardwood floors. Spike and Willow weren’t due to arrive for another fifteen minutes but she could tell he was already considering which of his favorite torture techniques to use on his recalcitrant childe if he got Willow here even one minute later than expected.
She almost pitied Spike, but the small scar on her abdomen was a constant reminder of exactly why she shouldn’t feel sorry for the little bastard – he was a menace.
"You know Angel, they say that black is this year’s black. Lucky for you huh!" Cordelia chirped waving her magazine about "I mean, you’re gonna save a bundle since you don’t own anything that isn’t black. So, think I could get a raise broody boy?"
Angel barely spared her a glance fully aware her prattling was really only an effort to distract him from his worry. He couldn’t help but love the little brat and he knew she couldn’t help but love him too. He was one lucky vampire. But he was also one anxious vampire, and an anxious vampire was a grumpy vampire, so he didn’t bother to answer his secretary who was still looking at him with eyebrows raised in query.
He rolled his eyes a little and continued his pacing.
"Rude much"
Cordelia decided she had done her level best to distract Angel and it hadn’t worked, so she moved on to other musings and ignored him.
Just then Angel stiffened and halted mid stride, turning to face the door. A minute later Spike was sauntering into the room dragging a sleepy looking red head behind him.
"Hello Daddy" he drawled around the cigarette in his mouth, clamping Willow firmly to his side as he offered Angel his most obnoxious smirk in greeting.
Angel barely suppressed a snarl at his childe before softening his glance as it fell on the witch. "Willow, hi."
"Hey" she responded with a small wave to the dark vampire. Stealing a nervous glance at Cordelia who had yet to raise her eyes from her magazine Willow offered a cautious salutation "Hey, Cordy"
Cordelia raised her dark eyes slowly before closing the magazine and setting it down on the coffee table. She raked her gaze very obviously over the red head before she responded "Willow. Looks like you’ve finally got a clue."
Willow blushed a little and studied her shoes for a brief moment "Thanks. I think"
Cordelia grinned slowly, happy to have established her superiority she was now free to relax a little. "So, Ethan Rayne huh. Don’t seem to have much luck with parents do we?" Cordelia said gently as she stood.
Willow shrugged "Guess not."
Women were strange creatures Spike decided. They spoke in english but it was glaringly obvious that the conversations they had were all riddled with underlying and cryptic meanings that no man would ever be able to learn. Take these two chits for example, despite what they were saying, Spike had the distinct impression their conversation was about something else entirely – but it seemed to have gone well, Willow had relaxed her shoulders and the cheerleader had dropped the predator vibes she had been giving off the moment they walked in the door. Catching my Sire’s eye above the women’s heads I knew he was probably thinking the same thing as me, and was probably as equally lost – hell I’d wager Peaches was even more clueless than me about these things. Despite choosing to live and align himself with them for so many years, my Sire still didn’t even begin to understand humans. Ponce.
"Well as interesting as this isn’t I suggest we get on with dealing with the Watchers and the Lawyers."
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