1 Chapter Four-
2 It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time
Disclaimer- The only character I own here is Rowan herself; the rest I borrow.
Summary- This takes place before Cordelia becomes part demon and before Connor is born. Please read and review! Feedback is greatly appreciated….
Angel sat back, contemplating what Rowan had just revealed to him. Rowan herself felt drained. The knowledge she had just shared with him was…well, it was her life. She had been raised with the story of the vampire with a soul, and her duty to watch him in his struggle for redemption. She had grown up knowing about him, and spent hours 'checking up' on him. He'd never seen her before today. A bit of shock was completely understandable. She waited for some kind of reaction on the vampire's unreadable face, but he seemed lost in his thoughts.
Rowan let the silence go on for what seemed liked forever, until she couldn't take it any longer. Any interruption was better than more of this silence. "Not to interrupt your thoughts, Angel- but we've been talking awhile, and I was waiting for a bit before you showed up. Is there a ladies' room I can use?"
Angel took a minute to respond. "Um, yeah. Cross the lobby, first door on the left." He didn't rise, and Rowan let herself out after a quick look turned up her shoes.
Complete lack of a reaction was not a good thing, Rowan thought to herself as she clicked across the marble floor, toes pinched every inch of the way by Italian leather. But then again, just what kind of reaction did she expect? She's just told him that someone else- on the side of good- had sacrificed herself and several generations of her family to make sure that he became a warrior for the Light.
She snorted at her own stupidity. As if Angel didn't already carry around massive amounts of guilt- some of it much more recent from his soulless state in Sunnydale. And she goes and throws more fuel on the fire! Pushing open the heavy door, Rowan headed straight for the mirror to see just how bedraggled she looked from the tackle-and-pass-out session earlier.
Not too bad, considering, she thought. Smoothing back her long, auburn tinged locks, she carefully rubbed at the beginnings of raccoon eyes. Looking closer at the face, she examined it for similarities to Angel. After having met him, she was that the family resemblance was not as pronounced as her grandmother had sworn it was.
"Ah, Gram. I finally met out elusive kinsman," she whispered to herself. Her grandmother had caught one small, real-life glimpse of Angel in her capacity as generation watcher; Seemings and scrying images were close to the actual person, but not always completely accurate. Now that she herself had seen him, Rowan would be able to conjure a much clearer image of Angel in her own watching.
If he would still allow it, now that he knew. Rowan considered that now, something she hadn't thought through before her visit. What if he wanted nothing to do with her or her mission? Angel could simply ask her to stop, or use magical means to stop her; it was possible to do so. Would he? Rowan had also informed him, no matter how good the intentions behind it were, that he had been actively spied on for the past two hundred years. Yeah, she acknowledged. I guess that would creep me out, too.
Entering the stall, Rowan continued her train of thought. Yep, imagine someone magically watching right now. It gave her an odd feeling on the nape of her neck, to think that someone could watch her through walls, She had always known it could be done- she had done it herself- but she had never really thought about it from the observed's point of view. Hurrying to finish and wash her hands, Rowan sped- as quickly as her sore feet would let her- back into the lobby.
As soon as Rowan pushed the door open, Angel was waiting for her. He gave her a measured look before he spoke, crossing his arms and leaning against the smooth wall. "Why did you tell me all this? It seems to me that you- and the family- would be better off if I never knew that you existed."
Rowan inwardly winced. This was not the question she was ready to answer yet. She had not been able to work out in her mind why she so wanted to talk to this unusual vampire; but he haunted her dreams until she had decided that she would go see him. Naturally shy, Rowan was never good when meeting new people, especially important people. Yet she had walked in here as confidently- at least to appearances- as if she were a runway model. Laughing in an unsteady voice, "You sure don't ask the easy ones, do you?"
Angel followed her back to a seating arrangement in the lobby, sitting across from her when she settled into a wing chair. His steady gaze never left her. "I'm curious. Your story is very elaborate, and seems true enough. But why tell me now? It's been two centuries; a decade here or there doesn't really make a difference at that point."
Rowan bit her lip. "There's a lot of different reasons."
Angel shook his head, anger flitting behind the dark eyes briefly. "Give me one."
Dropping her shoes off again, Rowan curled up in the chair. Tugging her skirt down to a respectable length, she settled in to try and think through her answer out loud. Just then, the tall brunette who had fallen to the lobby floor in such pain stumbled down the stairs and took away Angel's attention.
"Cordelia looks pretty bad, Angel. Go look after your Seer- I'm not going anywhere." In her shock at the girl's appearance, Rowan forgot to edit her words. Too familiar, she cursed in her head when Angel gave her a disturbed look as he headed over to Cordelia.
A whispered conversation followed, too low for Rowan to make out, but it involved a lot of looks in her direction, not all of them friendly. Cordelia headed down another hall, presumably to get water to take the pills she picked up from a desk on her way. Angel returned to the seating arrangement, fixed Rowan with an indescribable stare, and sat back down.
"Why are you here?" he declared flatly.
"I can tell Cordelia already doesn't like me." Rowan tried to joke, but it died on her tongue given the look on Angel's handsome face. He really was more attractive than she thought he would be. Giving herself a mental shake, she returned to his question. "I honestly don't know. The chance to visit the area came up with this conference at work, and I just got the idea into my head. I didn't really think it out any further than that."
Angel's lips thinned at her answer. "Not good enough. You just blew a two- hundred-year-old secret. I can't think that as a witch you don't think through everything that you do very carefully before you do it. You control power that requires a clear, logical mind if you don't want it to eat you alive."
Rowan leaned her head back and looked blankly up at the ceiling. Dark spots periodically appeared across the white expanse; stains from a leaking roof, she guessed. Her eyes felt very heavy as she inspected the fancy molding encircling the ceiling. This place was old, and while the public areas seemed in good repair, she wondered about the rest of the building.
She must have spaced out for a few seconds, because the next thing she knew, Angel's hand was on her arm shaking her back to the world. His hand was cool, surprisingly not uncomfortable so. Snapping her head back to face him, she gave him a tiny, apologetic smile. "Sorry. I flew in this morning and was at the conference all day, and I guess this was more taxing than I thought it would be. I just nodded off."
Angel sighed, a deep, low sigh that twisted out of his chest like a frustrated animal. "I still want answers. But I can see how tired you are. Why don't you go pick a room, and we'll get back to this in the morning."
Rowan sighed herself. "I'm sorry. I'm just really tired. But all my luggage is still at the conference hotel. I have a room booked there."
Angel shook his head. "No. I want you here. I don't want you to pull a disappearing act on me until I get more information."
Rowan stiffened, her heart speeding up and her face lightly flushing. "Are you holding me hostage?"
Angel nodded. "Basically. There's a phone over there to call the hotel. Ask them to deliver your bags here."
Rowan thought briefly about trying to leave. Using magic, she could probably get away. But she didn't think that Angel wanted to harm her, or he already would have. She still needed to talk to him more, as well. And she was very tired. Mumbling to herself about vampires and less than good manners, she made the phone call quickly. Turning back to Angel, ready to tell him that he at least owed her dinner, she was surprised by the sound of the lobby doors crashing open. The British man, with a black man close behind, stumbled in looking a bit worse for wear.
Angel immediately looked them over. Finding them still intact despite some minor damage, he asked "Did you get it?"
The British man hadn't seen her yet, and spoke with honestly. "Between the two of us, we managed to seriously wound the Fester demon- but we didn't kill it. The wound should have killed it, too- so there must be something or someone else working with it that extended it additional protection-" Just then, spying Rowan, he cut himself off, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish.
Rowan almost grinned at his discomfort, then remembered that while she knew these people, they didn't know her. It was just such a Wesley face! "Don't worry, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. I know that there are things that go bump in the night other than vampires."
Angel gave his agreement. "She's aware. And she's on her way to find a room right now, so we can talk in your office." Angel gave her a curt nod, and motioned the two men to follow him. Directing a low comment to her after the men had passed, "I expect that I can trust you for now. Good night."
Rowan agreed. "I'll go find a room." She headed up the stairs, trying to find an open door. The first open door that looked likely- the bed had linens on it and there wasn't a layer of dust all over everything- turned out to be occupied by someone. Looking at the stylish dark male clothing hung neatly in the closet and the lack of mirrors, she surmised that this was probably Angel's own room. She couldn't help but peek around a bit, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Aside from some small photos, most of them of people whom she could identify from her Watching, there were some sketches hung up on a wall and some toiletries in the adjoining bathroom. The only other items that hinted of an occupant were a collection of leather bound books on a small shelf. All the titles were "classic" texts she had read- but not necessarily enjoyed- as part of her college education. It amazed her that someone could live for centuries and not accumulate more stuff, thinking ruefully on her own somewhat messy apartment back in Philadelphia. There were items stuffed in every available nook and cranny back at her place.
Chuckling in wonderment, curiosity sated, Rowan continued on down the hall until she found another inhabitable room. Hanging her suit jacket on the room's only chair, she settled down on the bed to rest until her luggage arrived. As she lay, her wind running a replay of the day, her last thought
2 It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time
Disclaimer- The only character I own here is Rowan herself; the rest I borrow.
Summary- This takes place before Cordelia becomes part demon and before Connor is born. Please read and review! Feedback is greatly appreciated….
Angel sat back, contemplating what Rowan had just revealed to him. Rowan herself felt drained. The knowledge she had just shared with him was…well, it was her life. She had been raised with the story of the vampire with a soul, and her duty to watch him in his struggle for redemption. She had grown up knowing about him, and spent hours 'checking up' on him. He'd never seen her before today. A bit of shock was completely understandable. She waited for some kind of reaction on the vampire's unreadable face, but he seemed lost in his thoughts.
Rowan let the silence go on for what seemed liked forever, until she couldn't take it any longer. Any interruption was better than more of this silence. "Not to interrupt your thoughts, Angel- but we've been talking awhile, and I was waiting for a bit before you showed up. Is there a ladies' room I can use?"
Angel took a minute to respond. "Um, yeah. Cross the lobby, first door on the left." He didn't rise, and Rowan let herself out after a quick look turned up her shoes.
Complete lack of a reaction was not a good thing, Rowan thought to herself as she clicked across the marble floor, toes pinched every inch of the way by Italian leather. But then again, just what kind of reaction did she expect? She's just told him that someone else- on the side of good- had sacrificed herself and several generations of her family to make sure that he became a warrior for the Light.
She snorted at her own stupidity. As if Angel didn't already carry around massive amounts of guilt- some of it much more recent from his soulless state in Sunnydale. And she goes and throws more fuel on the fire! Pushing open the heavy door, Rowan headed straight for the mirror to see just how bedraggled she looked from the tackle-and-pass-out session earlier.
Not too bad, considering, she thought. Smoothing back her long, auburn tinged locks, she carefully rubbed at the beginnings of raccoon eyes. Looking closer at the face, she examined it for similarities to Angel. After having met him, she was that the family resemblance was not as pronounced as her grandmother had sworn it was.
"Ah, Gram. I finally met out elusive kinsman," she whispered to herself. Her grandmother had caught one small, real-life glimpse of Angel in her capacity as generation watcher; Seemings and scrying images were close to the actual person, but not always completely accurate. Now that she herself had seen him, Rowan would be able to conjure a much clearer image of Angel in her own watching.
If he would still allow it, now that he knew. Rowan considered that now, something she hadn't thought through before her visit. What if he wanted nothing to do with her or her mission? Angel could simply ask her to stop, or use magical means to stop her; it was possible to do so. Would he? Rowan had also informed him, no matter how good the intentions behind it were, that he had been actively spied on for the past two hundred years. Yeah, she acknowledged. I guess that would creep me out, too.
Entering the stall, Rowan continued her train of thought. Yep, imagine someone magically watching right now. It gave her an odd feeling on the nape of her neck, to think that someone could watch her through walls, She had always known it could be done- she had done it herself- but she had never really thought about it from the observed's point of view. Hurrying to finish and wash her hands, Rowan sped- as quickly as her sore feet would let her- back into the lobby.
As soon as Rowan pushed the door open, Angel was waiting for her. He gave her a measured look before he spoke, crossing his arms and leaning against the smooth wall. "Why did you tell me all this? It seems to me that you- and the family- would be better off if I never knew that you existed."
Rowan inwardly winced. This was not the question she was ready to answer yet. She had not been able to work out in her mind why she so wanted to talk to this unusual vampire; but he haunted her dreams until she had decided that she would go see him. Naturally shy, Rowan was never good when meeting new people, especially important people. Yet she had walked in here as confidently- at least to appearances- as if she were a runway model. Laughing in an unsteady voice, "You sure don't ask the easy ones, do you?"
Angel followed her back to a seating arrangement in the lobby, sitting across from her when she settled into a wing chair. His steady gaze never left her. "I'm curious. Your story is very elaborate, and seems true enough. But why tell me now? It's been two centuries; a decade here or there doesn't really make a difference at that point."
Rowan bit her lip. "There's a lot of different reasons."
Angel shook his head, anger flitting behind the dark eyes briefly. "Give me one."
Dropping her shoes off again, Rowan curled up in the chair. Tugging her skirt down to a respectable length, she settled in to try and think through her answer out loud. Just then, the tall brunette who had fallen to the lobby floor in such pain stumbled down the stairs and took away Angel's attention.
"Cordelia looks pretty bad, Angel. Go look after your Seer- I'm not going anywhere." In her shock at the girl's appearance, Rowan forgot to edit her words. Too familiar, she cursed in her head when Angel gave her a disturbed look as he headed over to Cordelia.
A whispered conversation followed, too low for Rowan to make out, but it involved a lot of looks in her direction, not all of them friendly. Cordelia headed down another hall, presumably to get water to take the pills she picked up from a desk on her way. Angel returned to the seating arrangement, fixed Rowan with an indescribable stare, and sat back down.
"Why are you here?" he declared flatly.
"I can tell Cordelia already doesn't like me." Rowan tried to joke, but it died on her tongue given the look on Angel's handsome face. He really was more attractive than she thought he would be. Giving herself a mental shake, she returned to his question. "I honestly don't know. The chance to visit the area came up with this conference at work, and I just got the idea into my head. I didn't really think it out any further than that."
Angel's lips thinned at her answer. "Not good enough. You just blew a two- hundred-year-old secret. I can't think that as a witch you don't think through everything that you do very carefully before you do it. You control power that requires a clear, logical mind if you don't want it to eat you alive."
Rowan leaned her head back and looked blankly up at the ceiling. Dark spots periodically appeared across the white expanse; stains from a leaking roof, she guessed. Her eyes felt very heavy as she inspected the fancy molding encircling the ceiling. This place was old, and while the public areas seemed in good repair, she wondered about the rest of the building.
She must have spaced out for a few seconds, because the next thing she knew, Angel's hand was on her arm shaking her back to the world. His hand was cool, surprisingly not uncomfortable so. Snapping her head back to face him, she gave him a tiny, apologetic smile. "Sorry. I flew in this morning and was at the conference all day, and I guess this was more taxing than I thought it would be. I just nodded off."
Angel sighed, a deep, low sigh that twisted out of his chest like a frustrated animal. "I still want answers. But I can see how tired you are. Why don't you go pick a room, and we'll get back to this in the morning."
Rowan sighed herself. "I'm sorry. I'm just really tired. But all my luggage is still at the conference hotel. I have a room booked there."
Angel shook his head. "No. I want you here. I don't want you to pull a disappearing act on me until I get more information."
Rowan stiffened, her heart speeding up and her face lightly flushing. "Are you holding me hostage?"
Angel nodded. "Basically. There's a phone over there to call the hotel. Ask them to deliver your bags here."
Rowan thought briefly about trying to leave. Using magic, she could probably get away. But she didn't think that Angel wanted to harm her, or he already would have. She still needed to talk to him more, as well. And she was very tired. Mumbling to herself about vampires and less than good manners, she made the phone call quickly. Turning back to Angel, ready to tell him that he at least owed her dinner, she was surprised by the sound of the lobby doors crashing open. The British man, with a black man close behind, stumbled in looking a bit worse for wear.
Angel immediately looked them over. Finding them still intact despite some minor damage, he asked "Did you get it?"
The British man hadn't seen her yet, and spoke with honestly. "Between the two of us, we managed to seriously wound the Fester demon- but we didn't kill it. The wound should have killed it, too- so there must be something or someone else working with it that extended it additional protection-" Just then, spying Rowan, he cut himself off, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish.
Rowan almost grinned at his discomfort, then remembered that while she knew these people, they didn't know her. It was just such a Wesley face! "Don't worry, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. I know that there are things that go bump in the night other than vampires."
Angel gave his agreement. "She's aware. And she's on her way to find a room right now, so we can talk in your office." Angel gave her a curt nod, and motioned the two men to follow him. Directing a low comment to her after the men had passed, "I expect that I can trust you for now. Good night."
Rowan agreed. "I'll go find a room." She headed up the stairs, trying to find an open door. The first open door that looked likely- the bed had linens on it and there wasn't a layer of dust all over everything- turned out to be occupied by someone. Looking at the stylish dark male clothing hung neatly in the closet and the lack of mirrors, she surmised that this was probably Angel's own room. She couldn't help but peek around a bit, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Aside from some small photos, most of them of people whom she could identify from her Watching, there were some sketches hung up on a wall and some toiletries in the adjoining bathroom. The only other items that hinted of an occupant were a collection of leather bound books on a small shelf. All the titles were "classic" texts she had read- but not necessarily enjoyed- as part of her college education. It amazed her that someone could live for centuries and not accumulate more stuff, thinking ruefully on her own somewhat messy apartment back in Philadelphia. There were items stuffed in every available nook and cranny back at her place.
Chuckling in wonderment, curiosity sated, Rowan continued on down the hall until she found another inhabitable room. Hanging her suit jacket on the room's only chair, she settled down on the bed to rest until her luggage arrived. As she lay, her wind running a replay of the day, her last thought
