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.

Chapter Seven

Family Skeletons Worse Than the Scourge of Europe

The air hung heavy with Rowan's revelations, and the Fang Gang all suddenly seemed to find something interesting to look at other than Angel or Rowan. Fred twirled her long hair around a finger; Wesley nervously cleaned and then re-cleaned his glasses. Gunn toyed with a belt knife, testing the edge with his finger. Even Cordelia, shifting in her seat, examined her perfectly manicured nails very closely.

The ill will Rowan could almost touch a moment ago had completely dissipated in an aura of simple, uncomfortable tension. After several minutes of silence and a deep breath, Angel was the first to break the mood. "Ah, um, yeah." He ran his hands through his already tousled hair, and shrugged his broad shoulders. "So, did you find the spell you were looking for?"

Rowan marveled at Angel's sincere lack of people skills in that particular moment, but was very grateful for the change in subject. She'd really rather discuss the whole reason for her being here privately without the whole group ganging up on her; she only brought it up because... She cleared her throat and replied, "Yes. I don't have all the ingredients with me, though. I was hoping that Wesley would have the rest."

She turned to Wesley and handed him the grimoire to look at. "Do you?"

Wesley, carefully folding his eyeglass cleaning cloth, pushed his glasses back further up on his nose as he looked the list over. His lips moved as he read it and regretfully shook his head. "I'm a little short the yarrow root, and I know that I don't have any dried mugwort or bloodworm on hand, either. I used the last of it up last week for a spell to keep the Vagalyr-"

Angel interrupted. "Yeah, Wes, here." He hastily scribbled the list of needed ingredients on a slip of paper and handed it to Wesley, his eyes only briefly leaving Rowan's. "See if you can get this stuff- soon. We need to find out what Wolfram and Hart are up to." Breaking eye contact, Angel turned to Gunn. "Gunn, can you go see if you can find out anything about where this demon might be nesting? Talk to some snitches or something."

Gunn mumbled under his breath but headed for the door, "Sure, Kojak. Later." Wesley was close behind him.

Turning to Cordelia and Fred as the men headed out, Angel continued issuing orders to clear the room. "Cordy, could you and Fred go online and see if you can get into the Watchers' database?"

After a brief glance at Rowan- less anger filled, but still measuring- Cordy shrugged. Rising, she smoothed back her hair and straightened her clothing. "Just what should I be looking for? If I can get in at all, that is."

Angel spoke to Cordelia but looked back hard at Rowan. "See if you can find the Angelus journals. Maybe it's time I read those."

Cordelia was already out the door, muttering "Talk about re-runs." Fred was close behind her. Angel closed the door behind the girls and returned to the table, taking the seat to Rowan's right and slouching comfortably back.

"Good story," Angel stated. "If I wasn't two-hundred and some years old, I might get sucked in."

His tone cut Rowan to the quick. "You know, I really didn't want to tell you that way." Rowan hardened her own voice as she glowered at him. "That was really a case of TMI for them."

Angel's face looked briefly puzzled at her words. She saved his confusion with a sigh and a shake of her head. "Too much information."

Rowan squared her shoulders and looked directly into Angel's dark brown eyes. She was a little tired of him alternately running hot and cold. "Angel, you may not trust me, but could you at least not treat me like a sworn enemy? I haven't done anything that caused danger to you guys." Rowan thought she heard a whine creep in to her voice and mentally tried to steady it. "This wasn't easy for me to do, you know; this was probably harder for me to come here and see you than it is for you to accept my 'story.'"

Angel actually rolled his eyes, some emotion invading that cool façade. "Harder for you than me? I don't think so! You just handed me a family of spies who know me better than I know myself. That's beyond disconcerting and… down right creepy." Rowan swore that his voice actually had a tremble in it by the end his speech.

Rowan rose from the seat and stopped in front of him. She put her hand on his shoulder in a gesture intended for comfort. He didn't shake her off, but suddenly stiffened. Biting back a comment, Rowan took her hand back and ran it through her long hair, tangling her fingers in the curly ends. "I can only imagine how it is for you. But please let me finish telling you why I came out here to meet you."

Angel looked away form her pleading eyes as she pulled her chair closer and maneuvered it directly in his line of vision. He shrugged. "You might as well. There's nothing else for us to do until one of them comes back with some more information."

Leaning her elbows on her knees, Rowan took a deep breath. "My mother died when I was still a child. My grandmother raised me until she died four years ago. I really have no other close family, and I am not the kind of person who makes friends easily."

Angel's mouth quirked up a little at the corner. "Now that, you might have inherited from me."

Rowan half-swallowed a chuckle, afraid to offend the nearly humorless vampire. "My life never made making friends easy. If it wasn't some hocus- pocus crap stinking up the house, it was mundane, regular crap. When I was growing up, I knew what I would one day be expected to do- Watch you. And I was less than thrilled about it. It's not like there's a ton of money in it, or a special "Souled Vampire" degree. What was I supposed to do on career day? They don't exactly have a booth for 'Magical Stalkers.'"

Angel suddenly looked lost in deep thought. Clearing her throat and catching Angel's eye, Rowan continued. "The problem was compounded by the fact that I was damn smart. Two years ahead of other kids my age, further ahead in some subjects. I graduated high school when I was only sixteen, and went straight on to a full scholarship in Physics at MIT."

Angel broke in. "But you have a Ph.D. in comparative mythology! That's a long way from Physics!"

Rowan played with her claddaugh ring again. "My life dramatically changed direction in my freshman year. I found out that my mother wasn't exactly dead, and the father that I never had known was a Watcher."

Angel slowly, nerve-wrackingly cracked each knuckle in his right hand, the popping noises filling the silence between them. Rowan waited to continue until Angel finished the other hand and asked the question she knew he would figure out on his own. "Why wasn't your mother exactly dead?"

Rowan bit her lip, hating to hear this part out loud. "Because she was a vampire."