![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lyl_devilAgain, sorry with the lateness. :)
Title: In Another Life (17/22+Epilogue)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
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 17
Kennedy sat in the back of the police car, pushing down her instinct to break the cuffs and bust out of the car. Buffy and Giles had both been very insistent that they try and keep slayers and demons out of the public eye, and that included the police. Instead, she watched with slayer eyes and listened with slayer ears, and still none of this made any sense. When she'd first seen the flash of red hair in her peripheral vision, she'd instinctively turned to seek out the source, as she'd been doing for years. None of the original groups of slayers and Scoobies had ever completely believed that Willow was dead, but over the years the search had become merely habit, not hope.
Until now. Now, she had proof that Willow was still alive; alive and living in LA.
At first, Kennedy had thought she was dreaming, or hallucinating, but the form had been solid and the person had been real. Willow was alive and well, and all Kennedy's dreams were coming true. None of the lovers she'd taken over the years had in any way compared to Willow, but now she had a chance to have her back. She'd been so excited that this redhead wasn't just a pale copy with only a mild resemblance to her Willow, but the real deal. She'd even acknowledged the name ‘Willow’, which just tipped the scales for Kennedy.
She'd rushed in, so happy and excited to see her girlfriend after five long years. In hindsight, she could see how Willow may have been frightened by the overly affectionate display, but nothing she'd done had been deserving of cops. Willow had been just as happy to see her, so her running to the cops had been a surprise, especially when they threatened them both with guns. Willow didn’t like guns, yet she had run towards them. Everything was even more confusing when the misguided officers told her that Willow was pressing charges.
This part, Kennedy didn't understand. Being reunited with your long lost girlfriend was no reason to arrest someone, even if it had gotten a little rougher than usual. They’d been separated for years, and it was only natural that they’d both be excited at being reunited.
So now, she was using her slayer senses to eavesdrop and figure out what had happened to Willow. Something was going on, and Kennedy was determined to find out what is was so she could fix it and get her girlfriend back.
And Kennedy had a feeling this 'Dawn' person was right in the middle of it.
~!~
Willow watched as Don came flying into the emergency room, his neatly pressed suit rumpled and a slightly wild look in his eye. Willow wondered if maybe she really had been too incoherent in her phone message, but then remembered that Don had been calling Megan at five minute intervals since he'd checked his voicemail, so really, this couldn't be laid directly at her feet.
It didn't stop her from being extremely glad to see him, or even slightly pleased that he'd been so worried. Don may not say it often – or ever, really – but it was things like this, and things not like this that let Willow know that he cared for her. Maybe even loved her, but she wasn't going there until he did, even if she already was… ‘there’ that is, because she was. She tried not to think about how she'd feel if she ever found out that she was in that place, but Don wasn’t and never would be.
Willow idly wondered if she'd hit her head harder than she thought, because even she could tell that her internal monologue was losing coherency. But right now, her attention was fixed on Don as he wrapped his arms around her, shutting out the entire world – or just the busy ER around them. Burying her face in his neck, Willow felt the tension drain out of her shoulders as she squeezed him tight. Don had always been her anchor when her world was spinning out of control, and nothing had changed.
“Are you ok?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look her over. He fingered the bruises on her cheek and the scratches on her temple, and he gently kissed away the sting of her split lip. Don-kisses were better than painkillers, Willow thought, no longer able to feel any of her bruises or scratches – and she had a lot. She really didn't remember fighting nearly enough to account for all her wounds, but the witnesses said she had, and the physical evidence backed them up. Willow was just disgruntled because if Kennedy had been a man, she could have at least kneed him in the balls and maybe gotten away.
“All better,” she said, keeping her eyes closed and pulling him in closer to her. So far her day had sucked, but Don was on course to making it a whole lot better.
“I want to go home,” she told him, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. She wanted to get him home as soon as possible, too, because she knew his day hadn't been any better, though his had at least avoided any kinds of physical assault. Well, she hoped. But court days were always stressful for Don, and he often needed some sort of distraction when it was all over or he'd brood about it for days, especially if the bad guy got off.
Adding the whole ‘Park Incident’ on to a court day, and he was bound to be in a crappy mood. At least she'd managed to distract him, though she could have wished for a better way of doing it.
“It should be soon. I should go find a doctor to discharge you,” he told her, but didn't let go. “Dad's expecting us for dinner.”
“I just want to be somewhere that’s not here,” she whispered, imagining nothing more than their shared apartment with their hot shower and comfy sofa she could curl up on with Don. She hoped it was enough to banish the memories of Kennedy's hands and mouth and body on hers.
“You think Dad's going to let you get out of being mother henned by him?” joked Don with a small laugh, and while her preferred way to spend the evening was with Don, having Alan coddle and feed her was next on the list.
“How did he find out, anyway?” she asked, wondering if her afternoon adventures had managed to make it through the FBI gossipvine as well.
“He called as I was driving here,” was all he said, and really, it was all he needed to. Alan had a sixth sense where his sons were concerned, and that was apparently now extending to Willow, as well.
Willow looked around for either Dr Heine or someone to send to find Dr Heine – Don was staying right where he was, damnit. Megan was talking to the nice police officer who'd followed them to the from the park.
Luckily, just as Willow was about to send either Megan or the uniformed officer out hunting for her, said doctor show up.
“Willow, feeling better I presume?” she teased with an indulgent smile. Dr Heine had been her personal doctor for over four years, and Willow loved her. The first few doctors had treated her like a small child, or a stupid adult. They seemed to assume that 'no memory' meant 'no understanding'. On her first visit with Dr Heine, she'd spent over two hours going through what little medical history was available, and then talked about what the amnesia meant for Willow as both a patient and a person.
They'd done some medical investigation to fill out more of Willow's history, finding out that she had no allergies, she'd never been on any form of birth control in recent years, and she'd had chicken pox when she was a child, but no measles. X-rays had showed several healed fractures, but most were several years old and were most likely due to high school mishaps. Willow had found out more about herself from Dr Heine than anywhere else, including public and not-so-public records.
“All better,” Willow told the doctor, smiling from where her head rested on Don’s shoulder. She was really grateful to the paramedic who had run back and gotten Dr Heine from her office for Willow, but “Can I go home, now?”
The doctor just laughed indulgently and handed Willow a brown paper bag, “Here are the pills we talked about.”
“What pills?” asked Don, frowning down at Willow.
“I'll tell you later,” she said, exchanging a quick look with the doctor.
“You're all signed out and ready to go,” she said, motioning to the clipboard she held. “I'll see you in a few weeks.”
Willow gave a quick 'bye' and grabbed Don's hand, moving towards the door. Megan and the officer joined them as they exited the hospital, with Megan splitting off to usher Willow to where Don's Suburban was illegally parked. She heard Don talking to the police officer behind her, but didn't really mind, though the words 'tomorrow' and 'statement' were ominous enough.
But Willow was going home, and that was all that mattered.
~!~
Kennedy paced the length of the communal jail cell, barely giving the other occupants huddled against the far wall much thought. She had more important things to worry about than a bunch of women acting paranoid and scared in a jail cell, such as why Willow was acting weird.
Willow should have been throwing herself into Kennedy’s arms, joyful for the reunion with her lover, not running to the nearest cop to have her arrested. Her behaviour didn’t fit with the Willow she’d been separated from, and it was definitely cause for concern. She was treating Kennedy like the enemy, and that was wrong. It was completely not right.
Willow couldn’t be mad about the other girls, could she? Kennedy wondered. Willow had been missing for so long that Kennedy had gotten lonely, but none of them had compared to her Willow. They were mere shadows of what Willow was, and had never measured up. Surely Willow knew that.
Kennedy shook her head, banishing the thoughts. Willow wouldn’t begrudge her some comfort, so that wasn’t the problem.
Maybe it had to do with this Dawn person Willow had called from the park. It only made sense, if you thought about it. Willow’s strange behaviour, the presence of another woman – two women, actually. Kennedy remembered the second woman Willow had called, a ‘Megan’.
Kennedy summed up what she knew: two women, Willow acting beyond strange, Willow and this Megan actively helping the police to arrest and confine her….
Willow was under a spell. That had to be it. This Dawn and Megan were part of some demon coven, determined to control and use Willow and her magic for their own purposes.
Now that she had a good idea of what was going on, Kennedy started to plan. She needed to get Willow away from those demon witches and break the spell. Willow was all that mattered right now, and she was determined to free Willow from whatever hold others had on her.
But first, she needed to get out of this jail cell, and that would require a lawyer, preferably one that was non-evil, which meant calling the nearest Council representative. Great.
“Hey!” she yelled out through the bars. “I want to make a phone call.”
Hopefully in a few hours, she’d be out of here and on her way to getting Willow back by her side, where she belonged.
End Part 17
Part 18
Title: In Another Life (17/22+Epilogue)
Author:
lyl_devilRating: PG-15
Fandom: BtVS, Numb3rs
Pairing: Willow/Don
Beta:
strangevisitor7 & kallie_katWords: ~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 17
Kennedy sat in the back of the police car, pushing down her instinct to break the cuffs and bust out of the car. Buffy and Giles had both been very insistent that they try and keep slayers and demons out of the public eye, and that included the police. Instead, she watched with slayer eyes and listened with slayer ears, and still none of this made any sense. When she'd first seen the flash of red hair in her peripheral vision, she'd instinctively turned to seek out the source, as she'd been doing for years. None of the original groups of slayers and Scoobies had ever completely believed that Willow was dead, but over the years the search had become merely habit, not hope.
Until now. Now, she had proof that Willow was still alive; alive and living in LA.
At first, Kennedy had thought she was dreaming, or hallucinating, but the form had been solid and the person had been real. Willow was alive and well, and all Kennedy's dreams were coming true. None of the lovers she'd taken over the years had in any way compared to Willow, but now she had a chance to have her back. She'd been so excited that this redhead wasn't just a pale copy with only a mild resemblance to her Willow, but the real deal. She'd even acknowledged the name ‘Willow’, which just tipped the scales for Kennedy.
She'd rushed in, so happy and excited to see her girlfriend after five long years. In hindsight, she could see how Willow may have been frightened by the overly affectionate display, but nothing she'd done had been deserving of cops. Willow had been just as happy to see her, so her running to the cops had been a surprise, especially when they threatened them both with guns. Willow didn’t like guns, yet she had run towards them. Everything was even more confusing when the misguided officers told her that Willow was pressing charges.
This part, Kennedy didn't understand. Being reunited with your long lost girlfriend was no reason to arrest someone, even if it had gotten a little rougher than usual. They’d been separated for years, and it was only natural that they’d both be excited at being reunited.
So now, she was using her slayer senses to eavesdrop and figure out what had happened to Willow. Something was going on, and Kennedy was determined to find out what is was so she could fix it and get her girlfriend back.
And Kennedy had a feeling this 'Dawn' person was right in the middle of it.
~!~
Willow watched as Don came flying into the emergency room, his neatly pressed suit rumpled and a slightly wild look in his eye. Willow wondered if maybe she really had been too incoherent in her phone message, but then remembered that Don had been calling Megan at five minute intervals since he'd checked his voicemail, so really, this couldn't be laid directly at her feet.
It didn't stop her from being extremely glad to see him, or even slightly pleased that he'd been so worried. Don may not say it often – or ever, really – but it was things like this, and things not like this that let Willow know that he cared for her. Maybe even loved her, but she wasn't going there until he did, even if she already was… ‘there’ that is, because she was. She tried not to think about how she'd feel if she ever found out that she was in that place, but Don wasn’t and never would be.
Willow idly wondered if she'd hit her head harder than she thought, because even she could tell that her internal monologue was losing coherency. But right now, her attention was fixed on Don as he wrapped his arms around her, shutting out the entire world – or just the busy ER around them. Burying her face in his neck, Willow felt the tension drain out of her shoulders as she squeezed him tight. Don had always been her anchor when her world was spinning out of control, and nothing had changed.
“Are you ok?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look her over. He fingered the bruises on her cheek and the scratches on her temple, and he gently kissed away the sting of her split lip. Don-kisses were better than painkillers, Willow thought, no longer able to feel any of her bruises or scratches – and she had a lot. She really didn't remember fighting nearly enough to account for all her wounds, but the witnesses said she had, and the physical evidence backed them up. Willow was just disgruntled because if Kennedy had been a man, she could have at least kneed him in the balls and maybe gotten away.
“All better,” she said, keeping her eyes closed and pulling him in closer to her. So far her day had sucked, but Don was on course to making it a whole lot better.
“I want to go home,” she told him, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. She wanted to get him home as soon as possible, too, because she knew his day hadn't been any better, though his had at least avoided any kinds of physical assault. Well, she hoped. But court days were always stressful for Don, and he often needed some sort of distraction when it was all over or he'd brood about it for days, especially if the bad guy got off.
Adding the whole ‘Park Incident’ on to a court day, and he was bound to be in a crappy mood. At least she'd managed to distract him, though she could have wished for a better way of doing it.
“It should be soon. I should go find a doctor to discharge you,” he told her, but didn't let go. “Dad's expecting us for dinner.”
“I just want to be somewhere that’s not here,” she whispered, imagining nothing more than their shared apartment with their hot shower and comfy sofa she could curl up on with Don. She hoped it was enough to banish the memories of Kennedy's hands and mouth and body on hers.
“You think Dad's going to let you get out of being mother henned by him?” joked Don with a small laugh, and while her preferred way to spend the evening was with Don, having Alan coddle and feed her was next on the list.
“How did he find out, anyway?” she asked, wondering if her afternoon adventures had managed to make it through the FBI gossipvine as well.
“He called as I was driving here,” was all he said, and really, it was all he needed to. Alan had a sixth sense where his sons were concerned, and that was apparently now extending to Willow, as well.
Willow looked around for either Dr Heine or someone to send to find Dr Heine – Don was staying right where he was, damnit. Megan was talking to the nice police officer who'd followed them to the from the park.
Luckily, just as Willow was about to send either Megan or the uniformed officer out hunting for her, said doctor show up.
“Willow, feeling better I presume?” she teased with an indulgent smile. Dr Heine had been her personal doctor for over four years, and Willow loved her. The first few doctors had treated her like a small child, or a stupid adult. They seemed to assume that 'no memory' meant 'no understanding'. On her first visit with Dr Heine, she'd spent over two hours going through what little medical history was available, and then talked about what the amnesia meant for Willow as both a patient and a person.
They'd done some medical investigation to fill out more of Willow's history, finding out that she had no allergies, she'd never been on any form of birth control in recent years, and she'd had chicken pox when she was a child, but no measles. X-rays had showed several healed fractures, but most were several years old and were most likely due to high school mishaps. Willow had found out more about herself from Dr Heine than anywhere else, including public and not-so-public records.
“All better,” Willow told the doctor, smiling from where her head rested on Don’s shoulder. She was really grateful to the paramedic who had run back and gotten Dr Heine from her office for Willow, but “Can I go home, now?”
The doctor just laughed indulgently and handed Willow a brown paper bag, “Here are the pills we talked about.”
“What pills?” asked Don, frowning down at Willow.
“I'll tell you later,” she said, exchanging a quick look with the doctor.
“You're all signed out and ready to go,” she said, motioning to the clipboard she held. “I'll see you in a few weeks.”
Willow gave a quick 'bye' and grabbed Don's hand, moving towards the door. Megan and the officer joined them as they exited the hospital, with Megan splitting off to usher Willow to where Don's Suburban was illegally parked. She heard Don talking to the police officer behind her, but didn't really mind, though the words 'tomorrow' and 'statement' were ominous enough.
But Willow was going home, and that was all that mattered.
~!~
Kennedy paced the length of the communal jail cell, barely giving the other occupants huddled against the far wall much thought. She had more important things to worry about than a bunch of women acting paranoid and scared in a jail cell, such as why Willow was acting weird.
Willow should have been throwing herself into Kennedy’s arms, joyful for the reunion with her lover, not running to the nearest cop to have her arrested. Her behaviour didn’t fit with the Willow she’d been separated from, and it was definitely cause for concern. She was treating Kennedy like the enemy, and that was wrong. It was completely not right.
Willow couldn’t be mad about the other girls, could she? Kennedy wondered. Willow had been missing for so long that Kennedy had gotten lonely, but none of them had compared to her Willow. They were mere shadows of what Willow was, and had never measured up. Surely Willow knew that.
Kennedy shook her head, banishing the thoughts. Willow wouldn’t begrudge her some comfort, so that wasn’t the problem.
Maybe it had to do with this Dawn person Willow had called from the park. It only made sense, if you thought about it. Willow’s strange behaviour, the presence of another woman – two women, actually. Kennedy remembered the second woman Willow had called, a ‘Megan’.
Kennedy summed up what she knew: two women, Willow acting beyond strange, Willow and this Megan actively helping the police to arrest and confine her….
Willow was under a spell. That had to be it. This Dawn and Megan were part of some demon coven, determined to control and use Willow and her magic for their own purposes.
Now that she had a good idea of what was going on, Kennedy started to plan. She needed to get Willow away from those demon witches and break the spell. Willow was all that mattered right now, and she was determined to free Willow from whatever hold others had on her.
But first, she needed to get out of this jail cell, and that would require a lawyer, preferably one that was non-evil, which meant calling the nearest Council representative. Great.
“Hey!” she yelled out through the bars. “I want to make a phone call.”
Hopefully in a few hours, she’d be out of here and on her way to getting Willow back by her side, where she belonged.
End Part 17
Part 18