Title: Protector
Author: Serendipity
Email: trekchic@usa.net
Distribution: Y'all know me. I say yes. Just ask beforehand so I know.
Disclaimer: the characters belong to Joss Whedon
Rating: PG-13 (language, violence and content)
Author's Notes: Oz doesn't exist...again (I'm SORRY!!!) and uhm..Oh, this is my take on what fourth season would be like for 'Buffy' and for the new series 'Angel'. (meaning, all of the previous seasons are fair game. I haven't seen Grad2 yet, though, so don't worry about that type of spoilage. Angel is in L.A.) Only difference: (big one) the Scooby Gang is still in high school. So, the events of season 3 took place their junior year. Oh, and lastly, for those who have read it and are wondering, this is totally unrelated to one of my other stories, When Stars Collide. :) Feedback is, as always, adored, highly appreciated, very motivational and always responded to.
Dedication: to everyone who's ever wanted to have something dedicated to them but never has, this story is wholeheartedly for you.
Part 4
She had just finished putting the last of her underwear in her drawer, when she heard a soft knock.
“Come in.”
“You decent?”
Smirking in spite of herself, she turned to face the door, “As decent as I’m going to get.”
Whistler poked his head into the room, “Good. You like the place?”
Glancing around at her spacious bedroom, she noted the old fashioned fireplace, gorgeous cream canopy bed and vibrant pictures covering the walls, “I couldn’t love it any more.” She smiled at him sincerely. Ever since the episode in the library, an odd calm had settled over her. For the first time in a very long time, Willow felt in control of her life. She decided that, if anything, she may as well make the best of her situation. She was also looking forward to seeing Angel again.
“Well, it’s yours. Make yourself at home. Dinner’s on the table. Come on down when you finish up here.”
“I gotta admit, this isn’t really what I expected…” she responded.
“What isn’t?” he pushed the door open a bit wider and leaned on the doorframe, regarding her carefully.
“Well…let’s see…” she bit her lip, trying to recall all the things she’d seen, “Large screen tv, brand new computer, full internet access, fax machine, my own cell-phone, CD player, the biggest entertainment center I’ve ever seen, these beautiful bright pictures all over the walls, plush carpeting…should I go on?”
Shrugging, Whistler shook his head, “Well, kid, my sense of style doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with how I live. Besides, not everyone can have the terrific sense of color and design that Angel does.” He shot her his best broody look, “Black. Old. Depressing.”
Giggling, she shut the drawer to her bureau, “So you don’t hate technology like all other good demons?”
“I never was one for the bandwagon. Anyway, the computer and all that other stuff is for you. The Council of Elders would consummately pee if I used that much of their money on stuff for myself.”
“And the Nintendo 64 in the living room…?” The redhead quirked an eyebrow.
Whistler looked thoughtful, “That was….a gift. For me. To thank me. For putting up with you.”
Bouncing playfully, Willow started laughing, “So what’d you have to buy Angel to put up with me? Let me guess-a car. Black. With leather interior.”
Slowly, the demon’s smile faded, “Yeah. Yeah, a nice car. Look, kid, there’s still some stuff we need to talk about. Let’s go eat first, though.”
“When do I get to see him?” She asked softly, “He isn’t really mad, is he?”
“Mad? Well…I wouldn’t say that he was mad. More upset-at me, definitely not at you.”
“Upset? At you?” She looked puzzled. “Why?”
“Look kid, the chinese is getting cold downstairs and there’s nothing worse than cold fried rice.”
“Fried rice….” Suddenly, she was a million miles away, “That always reminds me of Xander. He used to eat buckets of chicken fried rice. His parents were never around and it was all he’d ever want for dinner when we’d order take out. God, I miss him, already.”
Sighing, Whistler entered her room, pulling the door shut behind him.
“Okay. Screw it. Let’s talk now.”
Stalking around his apartment, Angel fumed in silence. < I knew it. I just knew it wasn’t possible. There was absolutely no way that I could have a Protector without something being seriously wrong. Somehow, I’m putting this poor girl into danger and Whistler’s too much of a cryptic bastard to tell me anything. >
He was starting to realize why certain parts of his own personality had infuriated Buffy so many times before.
< Buffy… > Shaking his head, he refused to contemplate his relationship with the slayer < In the past. Gotta push it into the past. > Given a few centuries, he was fairly certain he could accomplish his goal.
Staring darkly at the clock, he waited impatiently for the sun to set, “Just fifteen more minutes…” he murmured under his breath.
Tonight, he was going to get some answers.
His hand shaking, Giles punched in the number he knew by heart.
“Good evening, Foster Savings and Loan, how can I help you?” A pleasant voice responded.
“Yes, this is Rupert Giles, I’d like to order a large…ahhh…” he tried to remember the code exactly, “A large pineapple pizza with onions and anchovies.”
“Just a moment.”
After a short pause, a young man answered the phone, “Wesley Wyndham-Price.”
“Oh for the love of God…” the obscenties that followed the librarian’s complaint were muttered too softly for the man on the other end to hear, “Price, you idiot, where in bloody hell is Patrick?”
“Pardon? And who may I be speaking too?”
“Why you prissy little…Rupert Giles, you ninny! Stop answering calls in Patrick’s office and hand him the phone you little brown-noser.”
“Well, if someone isn’t in a bad mood,” the Watcher sniffed.
“You have no idea.” Giles growled.
“How do I know if you’re really the real Rupert Giles or if you’re just someone trying to impersonate Rupert Giles, hmm?” Wesley’s voice took on an almost sadistic quality, “Perhaps I should ask for your identification code an-,”
“Give Patrick the phone or else I’ll fax him the prom pictures I have of you and Cordelia Chase.”
“Patrick, here.” A gruff voice responded almost immediately.
“Took damn well long enough, can you get rid of him?”
“Wesley, get out of my office this instant. What have I told you about hanging around here when I’m not in?” After a few moments of shuffling, Patrick cleared his throat, “Alright, Rupert, sorry about that. What’s happened?”
“Secure channel?”
“As always.”
“Do you have any idea where Willow Rosenberg has taken off to?”
“Willow Rosenberg?” his voice took on a strained quality, “The next Immortal Watcher? That Willow Rosenberg?”
“One and the same.”
“N-no…I haven’t. Oh dear lord, Rupert, where is she? What’s happened?”
Snorting, Giles shook his head, “Well old man, your guess is as good as mine.”
Breathing slowly, Willow tried to calm the rapid beating of her heart, “So I can’t see him…” she whispered.
“I’m sorry.” Whistler looked down at the floor, unable to meet her eyes.
“Too dangerous.”
“That’s what I’ve been told.”
“Can you tell me why?”
“A lot of reasons. One of which is the whole complication with the Watcher’s Council.”
“You mean the fact that I’m going to be immortal?”
“Well, yes, that.”
“How long?”
“What?” he stared at her, confused.
“How long am I out here doing this alone?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“How long before I’m immortal?”
“Two months, 14 days aaaand…” he glanced at his watch, “ About nine hours.”
“When I turn eighteen.” She looked at him thoughtfully, “And you knew. You and your Council of Elders knew about it all along, just like Giles said.”
“Willow, the fact that you were appointed Angel’s Protector has nothing to do with you being Immortal Watcher. At the time, we * didn’t * know. It wasn’t until after you were marked that it became apparent. You’re special for a lot of reasons.”
“So,” she stood up, snapping out of her revelry and putting on her resolve face, “Speaking of special, when do I get my powers?”
“Huh?” he stared at her as she slowly paced in front of him.
“You know, super strength, speed, invincibility. The ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound, be faster than a speeding bullet, make witty jokes while slaying vampires…when do I get all of those?” She glanced at him expectantly.
“Uhm…never?”
“You’re kidding.” That sickly ache that had been plaguing her all day returned with a fury.
“Willow, you’re not the slayer. Your job isn’t to protect the innocent, it’s to protect one man’s life. If we could choose someone to be duped up with super powers, well, then anyone off the street could be a Protector. The point is, that isn’t how it works. You already have everything you need. You’re brilliant, caring, a powerful witch and damn funny already. If you were under-qualified the way you are, then you wouldn’t be here. All we need to do is sharpen the skills you already have.”
“How?”
“You dug on school, right?”
“Most of the time…”
“Well, you didn’t think that becoming a savior for Good was going to get you out of classes, did you?” He sent her a wry smile.
“Meaning?”
“Tutors. I have a schedule lined up starting bright and early tomorrow. You’ll meet with me for basic training, and then individual instructors who specialize in different areas: martial arts, logic and witchcraft. The curriculum has been tailored to your specific talents. At night, I’ll have you come with me to trail Angel on his rounds.”
“Trail him so he doesn’t see me…” she clarified, the sadness apparent in her voice.
“Yeah, something like that.”
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Swiftly, Whistler stood, relief etched all over his face.
“And there’s one of your tutors now.”
“Okay, I’m driving us back to your house after we get Willow.” Buffy stated firmly while walking down the hall.
“Why?” Xander whined.
“I absolutely refuse to be seen in public with you wearing that jacket.”
Looking down at the black and purple coat he had on, he shrugged, “What’s wrong with it?” “How much time do you have?”
Rolling his eyes, he followed her into the library, “Seriously, Buffy, I like the jacket.”
“Giles!” the blonde slayer called out, ignoring him, “Willow? You guys in here?”
“Buffy!” The Watcher emerged, pulling his coat on with one hand while balancing his briefcase with the other, “Good, I called your house. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Oh no!” She sighed dramatically,
“No more evil. Too much evil for one week. I NEED to go out tonight, Giles. The slayage is getting tedious. Just one night to myself. You promised!”
“I’m leaving.” He responded.
“Okay, okay, forget the night out. I was just kidding. I can do that later, geez…”
“N-no, Buffy, I’m leaving for a few days. I should be back shortly, but in the interim, I actually WOULD like you to lighten your patrol time.”
Briefly, concern clouded her blue eyes, “It isn’t serious is it?”
“Serious?” He looked torn, “Ahh…no. Not serious. Not serious at all. Just a-a thing I need to get done that just popped up. You keep up house while I’m gone. Xander, you help her.” With that, he pushed open the library doors.
“Wait, G-man, you seen Willow?” the dark-haired boy interrupted.
The librarian started violently, “Willow? Ahh…no. That is to say, she isn’t here. She’s….ahh…yes. She’s going with me. She’s in the…at the…waiting for…ahhh….me….elsewhere.”
“Oh.” Buffy cocked her head to one side, “Uhm. Okay.”
“Well, you guys have tweedy fun,” Xander nodded, “Tell her I’ll see her when she gets back.”
“Quite. Goodbye.”
“Wait, Giles!” Buffy waved her arms emphatically.
“What, Buffy?” The watcher turned back around, exasperated.
“Look at Xander’s jacket. Opinion?”
Sparing the teenager a quick glance, he shrugged, “It makes him look like a pimp.” And with that, he was gone.
After a moment of silence, Buffy burst out laughing, “See? Didn’t I-?” she began.
“DON’T say it.” Xander warned.
“Changing the jacket?” She asked sweetly as they headed out of the library.
“Burning it.” He affirmed.
“Cordelia?” Willow stared at their visitor in shock.
“Hi, sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch.” The brunette self consciously stepped through the door,
“Hi Willow.”
“OhmyGod!” In an instant, the redhead threw herself into the other girl’s arms, nearly weeping from happiness over seeing a familiar face. She’d been positive that she’d never see anyone from her old life again.
Her own eyes tearing up slightly, Cordelia gently disengaged herself from the other girl after a few minutes, “It’s good to see you, too.”
“Your timing is brilliant as always,” Whistler smiled at her.
“Which reminds me,” she threw her keys at the demon, “That scratch on the passenger side door of your car was SO there before I drove it over here.”
“Oh geez…” Snarling, he snatched up the silver bundle and took off to inspect the damage.
“Men are so easily distracted,” grinning, Cordelia shut the door, “I’m glad you’re finally here.”
“Me too.” Willow smiled back, shy all of a sudden, “Sorry to jump on you like that…”
“Not a problem,” she responded graciously, “Look, I’m guessing that Whistler’s told you about what’s going on, right?”
“Most of it…Cordelia, not that I’m not really happy to see you here, but what are you doing here anyway?”
“Long story. Let’s just say that I tried to stay out of the weirdness that abounded in Sunnydale when I first came to L.A. After a few months of avoidance, though, I realized that no matter what I did, it’d keep following me so I just gave up.”
“And decided to fight?” The redhead’s eyes shone with admiration.
“Attempted to fight is more like it.” Standing in the middle of the living room and having a conversation with someone who had once been her mortal enemy should have been the weirdest thing in the world for Cordelia. Oddly enough, though, she felt totally at ease. Her comfort only strengthened her resolve to do what she had decided to.
“Well, either way, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah, well, with Angel around, I couldn’t help myself. After all, I’ve never been able to resist tall, dark, handsome men.”
The smile swiftly vanished from Willow’s face as Cordelia internally kicked herself for bringing up such a sore spot so soon into the conversation.
“How is he, Cordelia?”
Licking her lips, the brunette chose her words carefully, “He’s holding up.”
“I hear he’s upset with Whistler.”
“Pissed off as all hell is more like it.” Cordelia responded dryly, “He hates the fact that he doesn’t know who you are. He really wants to get to know you and to work together and he almost thinks this whole idea of ‘staying away’ is as asinine as I do.”
“Well, according to Whistler, there isn’t any other way.”
Wrinkling her delicate nose, Cordelia made a face, “According to Whistler, those pants he’s wearing are still in style.”
Trying to hide her grin, Willow turned towards the kitchen, “Do you want something to eat?”
“No, I’m cool. Look, Willow…”
The hacker turned to face her, “Hmm?”
“You want to get in touch with Angel, right?”
Startled, she looked somewhat unsure, “Well, I’d love to but-,”
“No buts.” The brunette scrutinized her.
“Yes.” Willow straightened out her shoulders, “Yes I would. I want to see him or talk to him, at least. This, what we're doing here with sneaking around and all...it just doesn't feel right. How do we bypass Whistler, though?”
“Sweetie, the man may be an all powerful demon but he isn’t quite omniscient.”
“He sure seems to be.”
“Not against Cordelia Chase he isn’t.” She stuck her chin out proudly and swallowed her uncertainty before shooting the redhead a conspiratorial smile, “Besides, I have a plan.”
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