FIC: In Another Life (19/22) - BtVS/Numb3rs
Title: In Another Life (19/22+Epilogue)
Author: lyl_devil
Rating: PG-15
Fandom: BtVS, Numb3rs
Pairing: Willow/Don
Beta: strangevisitor7 & kallie_kat
Words: ~38,500 (as of Jan 11, 2009)
Disclaimer: I don’t own either show. I just like to play in their sandboxes.
Summary: Every action has a consequence and every deal comes with a price. Willow’s life is wiped clean, so she makes a new one for herself in LA.
Master Post
Note: I don’t claim to know anything about magic, medicine or the FBI - what I didn’t pick up from tv and books, I made up.
~!~
Part 19
Several hours later found Willow entering a precinct of the LAPD, her hand clenching Don's. They were led back through a maze of desks to the detective who had taken over her case.
She found the process of giving a statement was in some ways more traumatic than the actual event leading to the statement, but Willow was determined to see this through. She may not remember learning all the social cues to personal interactions, but she did know that there were limits to what a random person on the street could expect from a stranger. Body checking, bear hugs that left bruises, and unwanted 'kisses' were definitely beyond the boundaries.
Which was why Willow was actually going to be pressing charges, and not feeling guilty about it. Really, though, she was angry; angry that she could have lost the baby she barely had time to know existed.
Don stood near her the entire time.
As she finished reading and signing the written statement, Willow listened to Don as he talked to the detective, trying not to smile as Don became Agent Eppes. He'd come wearing his gun, badge and ID, and Willow wasn't blind to the covert looks being shot in their direction. From what Don had told her of interagency relations, having a feeb in their midst who did nothing more than look intimidating had to be weird.
“Has she said anything yet?” Don asked the detective - Portman, she thought - referring to the Kennedy girl who had attacked her yesterday.
“Nothing much beyond lawyering up,” said Portman. Willow could hear the frown in his voice. “There's a rep from her organization here who's been mouthy enough for both of them, though.”
“Oh yeah?”
“What organization?” asked Willow, handing the signed papers back to the detective.
“Some outfit out of England. Tried to use some 'diplomatic immunity' bullshit but it didn't stick,” he explained. “Ms Rowler is still a citizen of the US - no dual citizenship - and diplomatic immunity means nothing in-country.”
“Do we know why she went after Willow?” asked Don, and Willow could see his investigator's mind working. She really shouldn't find it that hot.
“She said something about this all being a misunderstanding, and that once Ms Rosenberg realized who she was, everything would be cleared up,” continued Portman, watching her closely. “Tried to explain the attack as an 'over-enthusiastic reunion' because she thought you were dead. Also said she was your girlfriend.”
Willow froze at this, hardly daring to believe. Another blast from her forgotten past? Would they all turn out to be disasters?
“Don?” she called out quietly, relieved when his hand reclaimed hers.
“Did she say anything else?” asked Don.
“Nothing else before she lawyered up,” he said, and Willow could feel Portman's gaze burning her.
“She knows me?” Willow asked steadily, choosing to ignore the 'girlfriend' bit for now.
“So she claims,” the detective answered warily.
“Is there any way to--”
“Ah hell,” swore Portman, interrupting Willow's next question. “She's back.”
“Who?”
“The mouthy company rep who's been baby-sitting the suspect for the past six hours.”
“She have a name?” asked Don as they turned. Willow looked over the woman who was stalking - literally stalking - her way towards them. She had dark hair and dark eyes, which matched her dark clothes - and black leather pants, for crying out loud - Willow sensed a theme here, and it was dark and dangerous.
“Hey, Portman, little buddy!” she called out as she crossed the crowded bullpen. “What's a girl gotta do to get some - holy crap! Willow?!”
Willow took a step back, because the last time she'd heard someone call her name in that same tone of surprise/shock, she'd been tackled and assaulted. She felt Don stiffen beside her, moving to put himself between her and the brunette staring in shock. In fact, she felt several of the surrounding police officers come to attention, for which she was grateful. If this woman was anywhere near as strong as Kennedy had been-
“Hot damn, Red!” cried out the brunette, genuinely happy to see her, as proven by the big smile curving her lips. “I knew Miss Bossy was rambling about you, but I didn't think it was legit.”
“Hi. Who are you?” Willow asked from Don's side.
“Red? Are you okay?” asked the woman, looking at Don suspiciously. “In fact, how are you not dead? The general consensus was you hadn't made it out alive, considering we barely did.”
“You're talking about Sunnydale?” asked Willow, her curiosity overcoming some of her fear and nervousness. It hadn’t occurred to her that this Kennedy knew her from Before, just that she had some weird, disturbing, violent fixation on Willow. “I was there, right? Around the time it collapsed? Are you saying you were, too?”
“Woah, Red, what's going on? You know what happened,” said the woman, now frowning. “Right?”
“You still haven't told us who you are,” countered Don. He was using his Federal Agent voice, and Willow tried not to smile; for some reason, watching him turn into the FBI Agent always gave her a little shiver of pleasure.
“Name's Faith,” said Faith, confrontationally. “You?”
“Don Eppes,” he told her. Willow saw Faith's eyes move between the two before moving down to their joined hands.
“Way to go, Red,” Faith congratulated with a big smile, followed by a suggestive smirk.
“So, what the hell is going on?” asked Faith, collapsing into the nearest chair, oblivious to the glowering detective standing next to it. “What's with all the questions about Sunnydale? Don't you remember?”
Willow watched her for a moment before deciding that there were worse places to have this kind of conversation. She might finally be getting answers about her life pre-amnesia.
Pulling up the nearest chair - this one offered by a nice young detective - Willow turned and sat down facing Faith, constantly aware of Don at her back.
“Actually, I don't. Remember, that is,” Willow began. She hated talking about this; every time she had to do it, she hated it a little bit more. Why couldn’t she be normal? “I was found by a rescue crew on the road outside of Sunnydale, a few days after it sunk. When I woke up in the hospital, I had no memory.”
“--of the 'sinking'?” asked Faith, wincing, as if she didn't really want to really know.
“Of anything,” Willow told her. “I still don't. I haven't had a flash or even a twinge of a memory in five years.”
Faith breathed out a low curse and looked at the ceiling, her hands tapping some unknown rhythm on her thighs.
“So you don't remember me,” Faith breathed out, her eyes wide and surprised. “Or Sunnydale. Or Kennedy. Or Buffy, Xander, Giles, Dawn, Anya, Andrew - wait, Andrew might be a good thing to forget. You don't know about -- daaaamn.”
Willow's head was spinning at the mention of so many names - names her parents refused to provide. She felt Don's hand fall on her shoulder and squeeze.
“Were - are those my friends?” asked Willow, her foot starting to bounce in excitement.
“Friends, family, barely tolerated insects,” Faith confirmed with a rueful laugh that sounded decidedly painful.
“Wait, that means-” Faith trailed off as if something had just occurred to her, and Willow watched as Faith's eyes moved between her and Detective Portman several times, before coming to rest on her. Faith was looking at her very carefully, and then she realized that Faith was cataloguing Willow's injuries.
“Kennedy saw it as a grand reunion,” Faith said closing her eyes in resignation, though of what, Willow wasn't sure. “Any chance of you dropping the charges?” Faith asked her, but Willow felt that Faith didn't think she would, or should.
Willow gave the question some serious thought. True, the entire assault could be termed one giant misunderstanding and Willow could let it go at that, but it didn't sit well with her. When she was finally out in the world and on her own (with Milo as backup), she'd made a series of promises to herself. She wouldn't let herself become a victim; she wouldn't let things just 'happen' to her; she would let people's actions speak for them.
But most importantly, she would not feel helpless and defenseless like she had in those first few weeks after her memory loss.
Kennedy had made her feel both. She'd taken away some of Willow's hard won independence, and had almost taken away more.
“No. The charges stand,” she said, looking Faith straight in the eye. Faith stared back, a look of surprised respect on her face as she nodded her approval.
“This should hopefully bring Lady Attitude's ego down a bit,” Faith cackled in evil glee.
Well, at least she hadn't been the only person who wasn't fond of Kennedy.
End Part 19
Part 20
Author: lyl_devil
Rating: PG-15
Fandom: BtVS, Numb3rs
Pairing: Willow/Don
Beta: strangevisitor7 & kallie_kat
Words: ~38,500 (as of Jan 11, 2009)
Disclaimer: I don’t own either show. I just like to play in their sandboxes.
Summary: Every action has a consequence and every deal comes with a price. Willow’s life is wiped clean, so she makes a new one for herself in LA.
Master Post
Note: I don’t claim to know anything about magic, medicine or the FBI - what I didn’t pick up from tv and books, I made up.
~!~
Part 19
Several hours later found Willow entering a precinct of the LAPD, her hand clenching Don's. They were led back through a maze of desks to the detective who had taken over her case.
She found the process of giving a statement was in some ways more traumatic than the actual event leading to the statement, but Willow was determined to see this through. She may not remember learning all the social cues to personal interactions, but she did know that there were limits to what a random person on the street could expect from a stranger. Body checking, bear hugs that left bruises, and unwanted 'kisses' were definitely beyond the boundaries.
Which was why Willow was actually going to be pressing charges, and not feeling guilty about it. Really, though, she was angry; angry that she could have lost the baby she barely had time to know existed.
Don stood near her the entire time.
As she finished reading and signing the written statement, Willow listened to Don as he talked to the detective, trying not to smile as Don became Agent Eppes. He'd come wearing his gun, badge and ID, and Willow wasn't blind to the covert looks being shot in their direction. From what Don had told her of interagency relations, having a feeb in their midst who did nothing more than look intimidating had to be weird.
“Has she said anything yet?” Don asked the detective - Portman, she thought - referring to the Kennedy girl who had attacked her yesterday.
“Nothing much beyond lawyering up,” said Portman. Willow could hear the frown in his voice. “There's a rep from her organization here who's been mouthy enough for both of them, though.”
“Oh yeah?”
“What organization?” asked Willow, handing the signed papers back to the detective.
“Some outfit out of England. Tried to use some 'diplomatic immunity' bullshit but it didn't stick,” he explained. “Ms Rowler is still a citizen of the US - no dual citizenship - and diplomatic immunity means nothing in-country.”
“Do we know why she went after Willow?” asked Don, and Willow could see his investigator's mind working. She really shouldn't find it that hot.
“She said something about this all being a misunderstanding, and that once Ms Rosenberg realized who she was, everything would be cleared up,” continued Portman, watching her closely. “Tried to explain the attack as an 'over-enthusiastic reunion' because she thought you were dead. Also said she was your girlfriend.”
Willow froze at this, hardly daring to believe. Another blast from her forgotten past? Would they all turn out to be disasters?
“Don?” she called out quietly, relieved when his hand reclaimed hers.
“Did she say anything else?” asked Don.
“Nothing else before she lawyered up,” he said, and Willow could feel Portman's gaze burning her.
“She knows me?” Willow asked steadily, choosing to ignore the 'girlfriend' bit for now.
“So she claims,” the detective answered warily.
“Is there any way to--”
“Ah hell,” swore Portman, interrupting Willow's next question. “She's back.”
“Who?”
“The mouthy company rep who's been baby-sitting the suspect for the past six hours.”
“She have a name?” asked Don as they turned. Willow looked over the woman who was stalking - literally stalking - her way towards them. She had dark hair and dark eyes, which matched her dark clothes - and black leather pants, for crying out loud - Willow sensed a theme here, and it was dark and dangerous.
“Hey, Portman, little buddy!” she called out as she crossed the crowded bullpen. “What's a girl gotta do to get some - holy crap! Willow?!”
Willow took a step back, because the last time she'd heard someone call her name in that same tone of surprise/shock, she'd been tackled and assaulted. She felt Don stiffen beside her, moving to put himself between her and the brunette staring in shock. In fact, she felt several of the surrounding police officers come to attention, for which she was grateful. If this woman was anywhere near as strong as Kennedy had been-
“Hot damn, Red!” cried out the brunette, genuinely happy to see her, as proven by the big smile curving her lips. “I knew Miss Bossy was rambling about you, but I didn't think it was legit.”
“Hi. Who are you?” Willow asked from Don's side.
“Red? Are you okay?” asked the woman, looking at Don suspiciously. “In fact, how are you not dead? The general consensus was you hadn't made it out alive, considering we barely did.”
“You're talking about Sunnydale?” asked Willow, her curiosity overcoming some of her fear and nervousness. It hadn’t occurred to her that this Kennedy knew her from Before, just that she had some weird, disturbing, violent fixation on Willow. “I was there, right? Around the time it collapsed? Are you saying you were, too?”
“Woah, Red, what's going on? You know what happened,” said the woman, now frowning. “Right?”
“You still haven't told us who you are,” countered Don. He was using his Federal Agent voice, and Willow tried not to smile; for some reason, watching him turn into the FBI Agent always gave her a little shiver of pleasure.
“Name's Faith,” said Faith, confrontationally. “You?”
“Don Eppes,” he told her. Willow saw Faith's eyes move between the two before moving down to their joined hands.
“Way to go, Red,” Faith congratulated with a big smile, followed by a suggestive smirk.
“So, what the hell is going on?” asked Faith, collapsing into the nearest chair, oblivious to the glowering detective standing next to it. “What's with all the questions about Sunnydale? Don't you remember?”
Willow watched her for a moment before deciding that there were worse places to have this kind of conversation. She might finally be getting answers about her life pre-amnesia.
Pulling up the nearest chair - this one offered by a nice young detective - Willow turned and sat down facing Faith, constantly aware of Don at her back.
“Actually, I don't. Remember, that is,” Willow began. She hated talking about this; every time she had to do it, she hated it a little bit more. Why couldn’t she be normal? “I was found by a rescue crew on the road outside of Sunnydale, a few days after it sunk. When I woke up in the hospital, I had no memory.”
“--of the 'sinking'?” asked Faith, wincing, as if she didn't really want to really know.
“Of anything,” Willow told her. “I still don't. I haven't had a flash or even a twinge of a memory in five years.”
Faith breathed out a low curse and looked at the ceiling, her hands tapping some unknown rhythm on her thighs.
“So you don't remember me,” Faith breathed out, her eyes wide and surprised. “Or Sunnydale. Or Kennedy. Or Buffy, Xander, Giles, Dawn, Anya, Andrew - wait, Andrew might be a good thing to forget. You don't know about -- daaaamn.”
Willow's head was spinning at the mention of so many names - names her parents refused to provide. She felt Don's hand fall on her shoulder and squeeze.
“Were - are those my friends?” asked Willow, her foot starting to bounce in excitement.
“Friends, family, barely tolerated insects,” Faith confirmed with a rueful laugh that sounded decidedly painful.
“Wait, that means-” Faith trailed off as if something had just occurred to her, and Willow watched as Faith's eyes moved between her and Detective Portman several times, before coming to rest on her. Faith was looking at her very carefully, and then she realized that Faith was cataloguing Willow's injuries.
“Kennedy saw it as a grand reunion,” Faith said closing her eyes in resignation, though of what, Willow wasn't sure. “Any chance of you dropping the charges?” Faith asked her, but Willow felt that Faith didn't think she would, or should.
Willow gave the question some serious thought. True, the entire assault could be termed one giant misunderstanding and Willow could let it go at that, but it didn't sit well with her. When she was finally out in the world and on her own (with Milo as backup), she'd made a series of promises to herself. She wouldn't let herself become a victim; she wouldn't let things just 'happen' to her; she would let people's actions speak for them.
But most importantly, she would not feel helpless and defenseless like she had in those first few weeks after her memory loss.
Kennedy had made her feel both. She'd taken away some of Willow's hard won independence, and had almost taken away more.
“No. The charges stand,” she said, looking Faith straight in the eye. Faith stared back, a look of surprised respect on her face as she nodded her approval.
“This should hopefully bring Lady Attitude's ego down a bit,” Faith cackled in evil glee.
Well, at least she hadn't been the only person who wasn't fond of Kennedy.
End Part 19
Part 20