Please review!!! This story was started over a year ago, and I am having
trouble getting back into the groove. Comments would be most helpful (And
make updates appear more quickly) !!!
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 11
The Morning After
Warm, yellow light blazing down on her blanketed form woke Rowan up. The light confused her; she was sure that Wesley and Gunn should have been back hours before full day. Rolling over and pushing the blankets aside, Rowan tried to rise but fell back on the bed, the agony of intense ache wracking through her body. The Powers really didn't look out much for the comfort of their human vessels.
Just as Rowan made a second attempt to rise, Cordelia popped her head into the room. "Good morning!" Pushing the door the rest of the way open, Cordelia help up a glass of water and two tiny pink pills. "Just what the witch-doctor ordered for supernaturally-caused headaches!"
Cordelia waited while Rowan swallowed the pills and handed the glass back, then helped Rowan make her way to the bathroom. "There are fresh towels in there, and I'll get some clean clothes out of your bag for you. I'll leave them on the bed, and I'll see you downstairs."
Rowan narrowed her eyes at Cordelia, suspicion darkening her tone. "Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?"
Cordelia bit her lip, pausing a moment. "Well, Angel filled me in a little on your, uh. conversation last night. And let's just say, I know what it feels likes to have someone powerful in your brain with a message for Angel."
Rowan rubbed her aching neck. "So, you trust me now?"
Cordelia nodded slowly. "At least a little bit. Enough that I know you won't physically try to hurt Angel." A shadow crossed Cordelia's hazel orbs, and her lips thinned in a small frown. "Emotionally, well, that's a whole other story. But you aren't going to stake him or turn him evil, and I'll take what I can get, for now. The Powers sent you, apparently, and I trust Them." Pause. "Well, mostly."
At that, Cordelia turned back to her self-appointed task, heading directly for Rowan's luggage and leaving Rowan to make her own way into the bathroom. Rowan showered slowly, still shaky, and pondered Cordelia's one- eighty. Just how much of last night- and Rowan's history- did the girl know? It took her much longer than usual to get herself ready, but the pills seemed to be helping. It was nearly ten o'clock by the time she finished dressing and carefully descended the lobby stairs, her hand tightly gripping the ornate banister the entire way down.
Most of AI was in the lobby, lounging on various pieces of second- hand furniture and turning pages in old books. Rowan cleared her throat from the center of the room and watched everyone but Cordelia jump with surprise. "Good morning, everyone. Sorry I overslept."
Wesley sprang up and practically ran to her side. "Oh, no bother at all. We got back with the herbs too late to start the spell this morning anyway. And you need your rest for this evening." Wesley blathered on in a very proper, courteous, English way until Cordelia interrupted him.
"Hey! I get my head kicked around by the PTB on a regular basis, and you're never that nice to me!" Cordelia slammed her book shut and sat on the sofa with her arms crossed and her eyes angry.
Gunn chuckled just loud enough for everyone to hear. Wesley's face grew red in the awkward, silent moment before Angel interrupted them with his arrival from the training room in the basement.
Angel was shirtless, a sheen of sweat covering his upper body, and held a very sharp battle axe in his right hand. His tattoo was harshly dark on his pale skin as he walked through the lobby. "Good morning, everyone," he said, but his eyes stayed on Rowan.
Cordelia responded for the group. "You can only say good morning if you've actually been to bed the night before, Angel."
Angel frowned at her, and continued toward the kitchen wordlessly, dropping the axe on a coffee table. Cordelia's eyes followed his progress appreciatively. "Hey, bring me a Diet Coke on your way back out!" she called as she cracked her book open again.
Rowan made her way to Cordelia's sofa and sat next to her fellow Seer. "He never went to bed last night?"
Cordelia spoke as she continued to turn pages. "Nope. He's been down in the training room since dawn."
Rowan pursed her lips. "Does he do that a lot?"
Cordelia shook her head negatively without even looking up. "No. Usually only when he's brooding over something. Like a Buffy-brood."
Rowan considered Cordelia's assessment for a moment. Angel had a right to brood, all things considered. "So, what are you all looking for?"
Wesley perked right up, and opened his mouth to explain, but got cut off by Fred's quick response. "We're trying to find out more about these Fester demons. Festers look scarier than they actually are- everything we've found so far points to them as a peaceful race of demons, so it makes no sense that they should have attacked anyone."
Wesley jumped in. "So we are trying to find out what could have changed their nature."
Rowan looked over Cordelia's shoulder. "Or who. Maybe that necklace was doing a lot more than just casting a protection and projection spell."
Wesley's eyes brightened and Fred sat up a little straighter. "So, what are you thinking?" Angel voice echoed in the hall as he returned from the kitchen. Handing Cordelia her can of soda, Angel leaned on the sofa's back and looked expectantly at Rowan.
Rowan turned to look him directly in the face. His attitude toward her seemed guarded, but the request sounded genuine. "Well, demons are much like humans. They respond to many of the same stimuli- and threats. Maybe the demon's mate or children were threatened."
Angel cocked his head to one side, never breaking eye contact with Rowan. "Still not in them to fight like that. According to these books, Festors are usually passive, even if you are trying to kill them. They won't fight back. Sort of the Amish of the demon world."
Rowan took a deep breath and thought again. "Okay, then maybe some kind of demon-drug? Even the calmest human on PCP will respond something like that demon did to Wesley."
Angel's turn to take a deep, though unneeded breath. "That's a thought." He was already rising and heading to his room as he called out orders to his fellow investigators. "Gunn, you and I need to talk to a few more people about this while the rest do some more research and Rowan prepares for her spell."
Gunn shot up. He was never much for the research, anyway; he much preferring the ass-kicking side of his job. "I'll grab the weapons and meet you at the tunnel entrance."
Rowan looked questioningly at Cordelia, who seemed to know that the look was addressed to her without ever raising her eyes. "He uses the sewers to get around during the day. No rest for the wicked around here."
"The wicked?" Rowan questioned, one eyebrow arched.
Cordelia sighed and looked up. "Okay, the reformed wicked. Or the very good, apparently, since I still have a stack of books to look through."
Rowan took the hint, and slid off of the sofa. Angel was right in that she did have to prepare for the spell casting tonight. Although she had yet to explain how the spell worked to Angel, she now knew that he would go along with anything she asked him to do. A messenger from the Powers would never intentionally hurt any being without just cause. But she still needed to review the complicated spell and devise the proper ritual for its casting, as well as memorize the incantation itself so that there was no chance she would screw it up. Heading back towards the stairs, she hesitated next to Wesley.
"Is there a room safe for magik use here, a workroom or something?" she asked, taking his attention back from his reading. It was in old Teskhan, she noted over his shoulder.
Pushing his glasses up and nodding negatively, Wesley looked uncomfortably abashed, as if the lack of a magik workroom were something of which to be ashamed.
Rowan thought he looked very... appealing. when he was uncomfortable. He certainly seemed, or so Gunn had thought earlier from his chuckle, eager to please her, and looked crushed at this perceived shortcoming. She tried to make him feel better, wondering as she did it why she bothered. "I figured there wasn't, but it never hurts to ask."
"Although we use magic from time to time, none of us are spellcasters or witches." Wesley fidgeted with the Teskhan tome, randomly flipping pages back and forth. "Does the spell require an actual workroom?"
Rowan nodded. "Well, to be safe, yes. A simple protection circle just isn't enough." Biting her lip, Rowan pondered the best solution. Knowing the kind of work that went on, she really hadn't considered that there wouldn't be a workroom here, despite her comment to Wesley. The only solution she could think of would delay her spell-casting another whole day, but there really didn't seem to be a way around it. "I'll need to create a temporary workspace, then."
Wesley closed the book her had been perusing instantly, eager to help. "The basic supplies, I assume? Candles, sage, etc.?"
Rowan smiled at him and started for the stairs. "Yes, the basics. I'll start looking for a suitable room while you-"
"Actually," Wesley interrupted, "there is a suite on the fifth floor that I always thought would be perfect for magic use. It's very enclosed except for a balcony looking out towards the mountains, and quite peaceful."
He absolutely beamed at her instant interest. "I'll just go get those supplies and be right back-" he called, already half-way into the next room. Rowan sat on the steps to wait for him. Cordelia, obviously listening to the exchange while she read, took that opportunity to make her way over to Rowan. Holding her place in the musty tome with her index finger, Cordy addressed Rowan in a low but serious tone. "Hey, witch-girl, take it easy on the geek. He's a puppy dog, and I wouldn't like to see him kicked."
Rowan chuckled, a bit uncomfortable with Cordelia's implication. Right now, Wesley was a colleague. A smitten colleague, Rowan could tell, but a colleague none the less. Rowan didn't think she wanted anymore than that. "Don't worry, Cordy. I like dogs."
At Cordy's "humph" noise, Rowan amended her words with a small smile. "I like dogs, but not too much."
Cordy looked her over once more, top to bottom and back again, then went back to her sofa and pile of books. Wesley made his way over just then, and the two of them headed up on the elevator to the fifth floor.
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 11
The Morning After
Warm, yellow light blazing down on her blanketed form woke Rowan up. The light confused her; she was sure that Wesley and Gunn should have been back hours before full day. Rolling over and pushing the blankets aside, Rowan tried to rise but fell back on the bed, the agony of intense ache wracking through her body. The Powers really didn't look out much for the comfort of their human vessels.
Just as Rowan made a second attempt to rise, Cordelia popped her head into the room. "Good morning!" Pushing the door the rest of the way open, Cordelia help up a glass of water and two tiny pink pills. "Just what the witch-doctor ordered for supernaturally-caused headaches!"
Cordelia waited while Rowan swallowed the pills and handed the glass back, then helped Rowan make her way to the bathroom. "There are fresh towels in there, and I'll get some clean clothes out of your bag for you. I'll leave them on the bed, and I'll see you downstairs."
Rowan narrowed her eyes at Cordelia, suspicion darkening her tone. "Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?"
Cordelia bit her lip, pausing a moment. "Well, Angel filled me in a little on your, uh. conversation last night. And let's just say, I know what it feels likes to have someone powerful in your brain with a message for Angel."
Rowan rubbed her aching neck. "So, you trust me now?"
Cordelia nodded slowly. "At least a little bit. Enough that I know you won't physically try to hurt Angel." A shadow crossed Cordelia's hazel orbs, and her lips thinned in a small frown. "Emotionally, well, that's a whole other story. But you aren't going to stake him or turn him evil, and I'll take what I can get, for now. The Powers sent you, apparently, and I trust Them." Pause. "Well, mostly."
At that, Cordelia turned back to her self-appointed task, heading directly for Rowan's luggage and leaving Rowan to make her own way into the bathroom. Rowan showered slowly, still shaky, and pondered Cordelia's one- eighty. Just how much of last night- and Rowan's history- did the girl know? It took her much longer than usual to get herself ready, but the pills seemed to be helping. It was nearly ten o'clock by the time she finished dressing and carefully descended the lobby stairs, her hand tightly gripping the ornate banister the entire way down.
Most of AI was in the lobby, lounging on various pieces of second- hand furniture and turning pages in old books. Rowan cleared her throat from the center of the room and watched everyone but Cordelia jump with surprise. "Good morning, everyone. Sorry I overslept."
Wesley sprang up and practically ran to her side. "Oh, no bother at all. We got back with the herbs too late to start the spell this morning anyway. And you need your rest for this evening." Wesley blathered on in a very proper, courteous, English way until Cordelia interrupted him.
"Hey! I get my head kicked around by the PTB on a regular basis, and you're never that nice to me!" Cordelia slammed her book shut and sat on the sofa with her arms crossed and her eyes angry.
Gunn chuckled just loud enough for everyone to hear. Wesley's face grew red in the awkward, silent moment before Angel interrupted them with his arrival from the training room in the basement.
Angel was shirtless, a sheen of sweat covering his upper body, and held a very sharp battle axe in his right hand. His tattoo was harshly dark on his pale skin as he walked through the lobby. "Good morning, everyone," he said, but his eyes stayed on Rowan.
Cordelia responded for the group. "You can only say good morning if you've actually been to bed the night before, Angel."
Angel frowned at her, and continued toward the kitchen wordlessly, dropping the axe on a coffee table. Cordelia's eyes followed his progress appreciatively. "Hey, bring me a Diet Coke on your way back out!" she called as she cracked her book open again.
Rowan made her way to Cordelia's sofa and sat next to her fellow Seer. "He never went to bed last night?"
Cordelia spoke as she continued to turn pages. "Nope. He's been down in the training room since dawn."
Rowan pursed her lips. "Does he do that a lot?"
Cordelia shook her head negatively without even looking up. "No. Usually only when he's brooding over something. Like a Buffy-brood."
Rowan considered Cordelia's assessment for a moment. Angel had a right to brood, all things considered. "So, what are you all looking for?"
Wesley perked right up, and opened his mouth to explain, but got cut off by Fred's quick response. "We're trying to find out more about these Fester demons. Festers look scarier than they actually are- everything we've found so far points to them as a peaceful race of demons, so it makes no sense that they should have attacked anyone."
Wesley jumped in. "So we are trying to find out what could have changed their nature."
Rowan looked over Cordelia's shoulder. "Or who. Maybe that necklace was doing a lot more than just casting a protection and projection spell."
Wesley's eyes brightened and Fred sat up a little straighter. "So, what are you thinking?" Angel voice echoed in the hall as he returned from the kitchen. Handing Cordelia her can of soda, Angel leaned on the sofa's back and looked expectantly at Rowan.
Rowan turned to look him directly in the face. His attitude toward her seemed guarded, but the request sounded genuine. "Well, demons are much like humans. They respond to many of the same stimuli- and threats. Maybe the demon's mate or children were threatened."
Angel cocked his head to one side, never breaking eye contact with Rowan. "Still not in them to fight like that. According to these books, Festors are usually passive, even if you are trying to kill them. They won't fight back. Sort of the Amish of the demon world."
Rowan took a deep breath and thought again. "Okay, then maybe some kind of demon-drug? Even the calmest human on PCP will respond something like that demon did to Wesley."
Angel's turn to take a deep, though unneeded breath. "That's a thought." He was already rising and heading to his room as he called out orders to his fellow investigators. "Gunn, you and I need to talk to a few more people about this while the rest do some more research and Rowan prepares for her spell."
Gunn shot up. He was never much for the research, anyway; he much preferring the ass-kicking side of his job. "I'll grab the weapons and meet you at the tunnel entrance."
Rowan looked questioningly at Cordelia, who seemed to know that the look was addressed to her without ever raising her eyes. "He uses the sewers to get around during the day. No rest for the wicked around here."
"The wicked?" Rowan questioned, one eyebrow arched.
Cordelia sighed and looked up. "Okay, the reformed wicked. Or the very good, apparently, since I still have a stack of books to look through."
Rowan took the hint, and slid off of the sofa. Angel was right in that she did have to prepare for the spell casting tonight. Although she had yet to explain how the spell worked to Angel, she now knew that he would go along with anything she asked him to do. A messenger from the Powers would never intentionally hurt any being without just cause. But she still needed to review the complicated spell and devise the proper ritual for its casting, as well as memorize the incantation itself so that there was no chance she would screw it up. Heading back towards the stairs, she hesitated next to Wesley.
"Is there a room safe for magik use here, a workroom or something?" she asked, taking his attention back from his reading. It was in old Teskhan, she noted over his shoulder.
Pushing his glasses up and nodding negatively, Wesley looked uncomfortably abashed, as if the lack of a magik workroom were something of which to be ashamed.
Rowan thought he looked very... appealing. when he was uncomfortable. He certainly seemed, or so Gunn had thought earlier from his chuckle, eager to please her, and looked crushed at this perceived shortcoming. She tried to make him feel better, wondering as she did it why she bothered. "I figured there wasn't, but it never hurts to ask."
"Although we use magic from time to time, none of us are spellcasters or witches." Wesley fidgeted with the Teskhan tome, randomly flipping pages back and forth. "Does the spell require an actual workroom?"
Rowan nodded. "Well, to be safe, yes. A simple protection circle just isn't enough." Biting her lip, Rowan pondered the best solution. Knowing the kind of work that went on, she really hadn't considered that there wouldn't be a workroom here, despite her comment to Wesley. The only solution she could think of would delay her spell-casting another whole day, but there really didn't seem to be a way around it. "I'll need to create a temporary workspace, then."
Wesley closed the book her had been perusing instantly, eager to help. "The basic supplies, I assume? Candles, sage, etc.?"
Rowan smiled at him and started for the stairs. "Yes, the basics. I'll start looking for a suitable room while you-"
"Actually," Wesley interrupted, "there is a suite on the fifth floor that I always thought would be perfect for magic use. It's very enclosed except for a balcony looking out towards the mountains, and quite peaceful."
He absolutely beamed at her instant interest. "I'll just go get those supplies and be right back-" he called, already half-way into the next room. Rowan sat on the steps to wait for him. Cordelia, obviously listening to the exchange while she read, took that opportunity to make her way over to Rowan. Holding her place in the musty tome with her index finger, Cordy addressed Rowan in a low but serious tone. "Hey, witch-girl, take it easy on the geek. He's a puppy dog, and I wouldn't like to see him kicked."
Rowan chuckled, a bit uncomfortable with Cordelia's implication. Right now, Wesley was a colleague. A smitten colleague, Rowan could tell, but a colleague none the less. Rowan didn't think she wanted anymore than that. "Don't worry, Cordy. I like dogs."
At Cordy's "humph" noise, Rowan amended her words with a small smile. "I like dogs, but not too much."
Cordy looked her over once more, top to bottom and back again, then went back to her sofa and pile of books. Wesley made his way over just then, and the two of them headed up on the elevator to the fifth floor.
