Author: Sirius (after the star, not the Harry Potter character)
Genre: Supernatural/Humor/Romance
Pairings: Charlie/Zoey, Willow/Will
Rating: PG for now
Disclaimer: So far, none of the characters are mine. If I owned them, life would be a lot more interesting.
Author's Note: This fanfic is a response to two vastly different challenges, and I honestly have no idea where it come from, but it won't leave me alone, so I had to write it. For those of you who are familiar with/have read my "Tempered by Fire" Series (WIP – West Wing), I am still writing it, but this story had to get out. Willow was never involved with Tara, but after the Initiative mess in the series, left Sunnydale and went to work for Angel in L.A. She came back to help defeat Glory, and Buffy never died (therefore, Willow never had to bring her back). She was never addicted to dark magic and is a very accomplished witch. Now, what does this have to do with West Wing? Well, you'll see. Also, I've royally messed with the timelines in both series.
Part I: A Red-Headed Witch in Washington
Debbie looked up to see an unfamiliar young woman walk through the office. She was about to greet her when the redhead put a finger to her lips and shook her head, then looked mischievously at Charlie. The young man was concentrating so intently on his work that he hadn't noticed her.
Seeing that the guest wore a visitor's badge – and that the Secret Service agent near the door wasn't disturbed by her presence – Debbie relaxed and settled back to watch the scene unfolding before her.
The redhead walked softly up to Charlie's desk, removed a large book from her backpack, dropped it… and grinned as Charlie jumped out of his chair. The agent – having guessed what she was going to do – didn't budge.
Charlie took a deep breath and gave her a quick hug. "Geez, Will, give a guy a heart attack, why don't ya?"
"I try," was her quiet, teasing response.
"I wasn't expecting to see you in D.C., Willow. What's up?"
"Not much… thought I'd drop off the wedding piccies and surprise my uncle."
"He lives in town?"
"Yep. Works nearby, too. How are things progressing with Operation Frog Prince?" The mischievous grin was back, but Charlie was nowhere near as happy.
"Stellar," he said, his tone at odds with his answer.
"Oh, definitely with the not good. Want me to see what I can do?"
"Nothing…"
"Nope. Nothing like that – promise."
"In that case, I'd appreciate the help, as long as it doesn't take you away from family." Willow heard him mutter something that sounded like, "Damned French nobility, practically lives in a castle, probably has a moat, wish he'd drown in it…" She had to struggle to suppress a grin. He really wasn't dealing well with this.
"No, Charlie, my uncle won't mind. I don't think he likes him much, either."
"He knows Jean-Paul?"
"In a manner of speaking. He's met him, he's spoken with him… he can't stand him. To be one with the fairness, though, my uncle didn't actually say much about it. He doesn't say much about most things."
"So he's like you in a quiet mood."
"Well, if I were Oscar the Grouch… yeah, kinda."
"And who is this illustrious uncle, exactly?" Charlie was beginning to have a niggling suspicion in the back of his brain. Who did he know who knew and disliked Jean-Paul? Realizing that that list encompassed most, if not all, of the Senior Staff and President Bartlet, he revised the list of characteristics and added "grouchy."
Willow didn't answer his question, choosing instead to smile and stand calmly near his desk. The doors to the Oval Office opened to reveal the Senior Staff, who exited the room in mid-discussion. Charlie saw Willow silently counting off the seconds with her fingers – so she knew that Charlie noticed. She had reached five before Toby Ziegler did an abrupt double-take and came to a complete halt – which, in retrospect, may not have been the best action, as it led to Will Bailey running into him from behind.
Willow chuckled, and Toby realized that what he was seeing wasn't just a figment of his imagination. "Willow?"
"Hi, Uncle Toby."
The rest of the Senior Staff stared in amazement as Toby grinned before heading over to his niece and gathered her into such a strong hug as to lift her off the floor. She just laughed and hugged him back.
"What are you doing in D.C., Willow?"
"Playing messenger, relaxing a bit… taking a vacation, kinda."
"Messenger?"
"Yep. I dropped off some pics for Charlie from Gunn and Fred."
"Whoa, wait… Gunn and Fred?"
"Charles Gunn," Charlie interjected. "He's my cousin, works at a small investigation and security firm in L.A. Fred – short for Winifred – is his wife. They were married last month. Remember the mess on my desk when I came back?"
"I do not make messes, Charlie." The booming voice of President Jed Bartlet was easily recognizable to the staff, though Willow jumped a bit in surprise. Bartlet stood in the doorway of the Oval Office, watching the scene with quiet amusement. "I fix them."
Charlie watched, eyes twinkling, but said nothing… for now. He could debate the "mess" issue with the President a little later.
Toby, making quick introductions, didn't notice the slightly startled look on the faces of the President and Will Bailey upon hearing the names "Willow Rosenberg" and "Sunnydale, California." Debbie did, but wasn't quite certain what to make of it.
As Toby ushered Willow toward his office – after she had made arrangements to meet Charlie later that evening – Will's eyes tracked the young witch. Feeling the gaze, she glanced back, and when their eyes locked… he smiled.
Willow had had something of a working lunch with her uncle – she had run down to the Mess and grabbed a few sandwiches, then sat and talked with him while they ate and he wrote. She knew that rarely would she ever see Toby without some means of writing nearby, be it pen and paper or laptop computer. It was just who he was. At least he took her more seriously than her parents ever had.
She'd come into his office and was initially surprised by the large space that looked as though it should have been a window… but had no glass. Her curious glance at it had gotten more from her uncle than a grunt and what she could have sworn was a snicker. Hmm… she'd have to ask someone else about it, and at the moment, Charlie was the most likely candidate. He was the only other person here that she knew, after all, though certainly not the only person that she'd like to know. Her gaze flickered over to the "window" again, and a tiny smile teased the corner of her mouth.
When she finally left her uncle's company that night, it was only to head to the desk that was three feet from the Oval Office, so that she could drag Charlie out of the building and shove some food down his throat while discussing what to do about a certain troublesome Frenchman.
Uh oh, she thought. I should have realized that if Charlie was working, it probably meant that the President was still here… my bad. Charlie was standing in the doorway of the Oval, but must have sensed movement behind him, as he turned his head to glance in her direction briefly.
Willow mouthed, "Sorry" and started to back away, but Charlie shook his head and motioned her forward, still listening intently to the conversation taking place on the other side of the open doorway.
The two challenges to which this is a response are as follows:
The "How to Lose a Frenchman" West Wing Challenge:
I hereby issue the following challenge: Write a piece
of fanfiction in which Jean-Paul is removed from the picture so that Charlie
and Zoey can get back together. Rules:
1)
The story can be any length.
2)
It can be any genre, from silly to supernatural to serious.
3)
Jean-Paul DOES have to be in the story - AUs where he was never in the picture
at all would deprive readers of the chance to see how you, as a writer, would
get rid of the little menace.
4)
HAVE FUN.
"The Bet" BtVS challenge:
Pairing can be: W/Xander, W/Spike, W/Nathaniel (AB), W/Will
(West
Wing), W/Harry (HP), W/Logan (X-Men), W/Remy (X-Men)
Willow loses a bet and is forced to serve one week in servitude
to
one of the above mentioned men. What is she forced to do and what is the
eventual
outcome of that close time together?