Actions & Consequences (3/?)
Jun '03, Greenwich Connecticut
Charles Ashford stared proudly at his children as they played in the games room, their entire attention focused on the adventures of their stuffed toys. He wiped at a proud tear as his Hope leapt up and engulfed her brother in a hug. "Get off Hoppy!" Alex screamed, a look of mortification on his face.
Yes, they were a couple of prizes there was no doubt about. Every day he thanked his old friend Richard Wilkins, a business man he'd run security for on his east coast businesses, for getting in touch four years ago with news of a young girl who worked in his office who'd got in trouble with a boy from the wrong side of the streets. Unable to have children of their own, he and his wife had jumped at the chance to adopt the twins.
And whatever their biological parents' problems, they'd certainly passed on good genes to their children. Both the three year olds were adorable with the darkest eyes, most brilliant smiles, and more energy than a caffeine freak. Just a sharp as knives too, very intelligent. They could be anything they wanted – movie stars, athletes, scientists, the world was their oyster, he and his millions would make sure of that.
Suddenly Alex looked up at him, his dark eyes shining. "Daddy, you wanna play?"
Charles smiled at his son. "I'd love to Alex, just -," his head turned at a slight sound in the front room. "Stay in here," he ordered, his hand dropping to the .32 he carried under his jacket. As head of the nationwide Ashford Executive Security and a former Secret Service agent, he was licensed to carry a firearm and if someone was breaking into his house, threatening his children, then they were going to get a very unpleasant surprise. "And be quiet until daddy comes back."
He moved quickly into the corridor, his movements smooth and controlled, three decades of training and experience coming to the fore. Reaching the lounge door, he kicked it open and strode in, a confident expression on his face as he drew his automatic. "Drop to the gr-."
His voice stuck in his throat and his gun dropped through nerveless fingers as he registered the impossible sight before him. There stood a grey scaled nine foot tall biped with no eyes but a huge curved horn sticking out of its forehead, feasting on his wife's lifeless body. Suddenly the monster was on him, its huge hand around his throat, squeezing inexorably. His last thought before his larynx collapsed was that he'd failed in a parent's most important duty – to protect his children.
* * *
Hauser spoke into his radio as he exited the house. "Romulus and Remus are secured," he muttered even as he watched the two sedated children being flung into the back of the van. "Be careful with the cargo!" he bawled.
His plan had worked perfectly. Aware of Ashford's reputation in the world of security he'd realised that the only certain way not to suffer any causalities would be to use something even Ashford would be unprepared for - a demon. He looked back at the three storey mansion. "Are the children secured?" he asked into his mouthpiece.
His earpiece crackled with static for a second. "Both in place."
He nodded in satisfaction. It had taken a couple of days but they'd managed to find and snatch a pair of children the same age and size as their targets. The orphanage they snatched them from would report a pair of runaways, but the amount of effort the police would put into tracking down two children with no family would be practically non-existent. "Get out then, time to blow the house." Four bodies burnt to a frazzle, all the hallmarks of a tragic accident, a gas leak. Nobody would suspect a thing.
* * *
Ten days after 'Chosen', San Diego
Faith stared at the lonely figure stood on the hotel veranda, his back bent as if carrying the weight of the world. She supposed it was a good sign, him being out of his hotel room, he hadn't left it since they'd booked themselves in. But he looked so wrecked. Summoning up her courage, she strode over. "Hi," she whispered.
Xander flinched at her voice. She in turn cringed, fuck he wasn't still frightened of her after all these years was he? She'd made mistakes in the past but she'd never hurt any of them again, him least of all. "Just leave me alone," he ordered, his voice husky with pain and sorrow. "I haven't the energy to deal with you right now."
Instead, Faith started to talk. "I'm sorry about your loss, Xman. If sometime you wanna cut loose, tell stories about Anya to someone who didn't know her, maybe you'd keep me in mind." When her words didn't get a reaction, she tried again, putting a jauntier note into her voice. "Now that the First's toast, and there's a ton of Slayers, what ya gonna do? 'Cause if you're leaving, I was hoping we could hang for a while firs-."
Xander turned to face her. "Hang with you?" the look that her one-eyed companion was contemptuous to say the least. "Hang with the cold-hearted bitch tried to kill me and everybody that tried to help her? That chose a black mage over us? No thanks, I've picked up enough scars recently, I don't need another one in my back to match the one you put there last time."
Oh fuck this, Faith's temper snapped. She had Angel, Wes had forgiven her, she'd been accepted by Red, Ken, and Pip, all the junior Slayers respected her, Wood maybe loved her, and her and B were at least talking again. She didn't have to put up with Xander's crap. "You know when me and Red were on the way to Sunnyd, I was crapping myself with thoughts of what sort of reception I'd get from B, G, and Pip. One person I didn't worry about though was you. You know why? 'Cause I remembered this sweet guy who always tried to help a stupid little bitch who was too suspicious for her own good. I knew that Xander wouldn't hold a grudge, it wasn't in him. Trouble is I get back to Sunnyd and that Xander isn't there, in his place there's this grade A asshole. Well you can go to hell, I really looked forward to seeing you again, hooking up, maybe taking you up on that friendship you were always offering. Well I don't fucking need or want to be buds with the new improved Xander. The other one comes back, give me a call."
Faith turned to leave, only for Xander to grab her by the shoulder and spin her round to face him, his single eye glaring coldly at her. "You finished?" Xander asked. Without waiting for an answer he continued. "Then go fuck yourself. Better yet have Woodie do the job, poor bastard." The man released his grip. "If I want to talk to someone about Anya, I'll go to Giles, Will, or another member of my family. And that doesn't include you. And it never will. Turn on them again and I'll kill you, Angel, Wood, and anybody who takes your side."
* * *
"Faith are you-."
Her glare caused Andrew's words to die in his throat, as she stormed through the hotel corridor. God, if she hadn't walked away from him, she'd have done something to him, something real bad. She didn't know what it was about Xan that got to her, some of the guards inside had been far cruder towards her but she'd never once reacted until they tried to get physical.
Maybe it was because despite everything that had happened, she respected him for getting involved in the demon-fighting biz by choice, not being forced into it like her or B. What Red had told her about Xan saving the world from her when B couldn't had shaken her, she didn't think anybody could succeed at something that B couldn't, but Xman had managed it.
Tears of humiliation blurring her vision, she reached her hotel room. Unable to find her key she let out a frustrated snarl and kicked the door open. Striding in she looked around. "Woodie?" God she needed to feel his arms around her, to hear him tell her she wasn't a worthless slut. Her shoulders slumped when she didn't receive an answer. "Damn it Woodie, where are you?" she muttered. Deciding she'd have to make do with a morale- boosting call to Angel she moved over to the phone by the bed.
And stopped at the sight of an envelope on the bed. She lifted the manila envelope. "No postmark," she muttered. Noting it was addressed only with a 'F' she deduced it must be for her and eagerly tore it open, a piece of paper falling out of the envelope and onto the bed. Her earlier hurt replaced by curiosity, she began to read, stumbling occasionally over the double meaning contained within.
Dear Miss Faith,
It has come to the attention of Wolfram & Hart, that in '00, you entered into an agreement with us to undertake a certain job for us. You then broke our contract, an action that caused our law firm considerable inconvenience and loss of face within the community.
"Glad I could be of help," Faith muttered as she continued to read.
For a considerable amount of time the subject you were contracted to deal with has remained a thorn in our side. However given your newfound status our firm has decided to give you another chance to fulfil the work you were paid to do and enter into new employment with us. A fresh start if you will, working as our top contractor.
"You can fuck off," she growled. No way was she hurting Angel for anyone!
This post will include considerable side-benefits including but not limited to a hefty financial package, a sports car of your choice, an executive apartment, a healthcare package that is out of this world, and private schooling for your children. All paid for by W&H.
"What?" blood drained from Faith's face as the meaning of the words dawned on her. Her body trembling she continued to read.
If on the other hand you refuse this generous offer that would secure both your and your children's future, Wolfram and Hart cannot be held responsible to what could happen to them. This is, as you are most painfully aware, a cruel world for two children without a proper parent's protection. It behoves you as their mother to protect them. Make the right decision, be in LA in 24 hours' time. Your children are missing you.
Yours Sincerely
Mr. Daniel Wolfe
Faith's blood ran cold at the threat implicit in the letter's last paragraph. Her babies, the little twins who's ultra-sound she kept under the pillow of her prison bunk, kidnapped by Wolfram & Hart. It had to be a bluff. Except....
She looked down to the bed and picked up the paper that had dropped out of the letter. Her heart caught as she realised it was the photograph of two three year olds.
"Oh god," once again Faith felt tears burn her eyes. She thought she'd been scared before but now... She recognised the girl in the photograph. When she was three, before her mother's drinking had gotten real bad, they'd been out one day on a picnic and had a photograph taken of them together. She'd kept that photographs for years, until she'd met Jan her Watcher, to remind herself that her ma had once cared for her. And the baby girl in the photograph, her baby, god she looked so much like her at that age she had to be her daughter, she had to be. And the boy, Faith smiled tremulously, she recognised that goofy grin, could remember the days when the boy's father would direct it at her.
Her smile withered as she realised what she had to do. "I'm sorry Angel." Grabbing her duffle bag, she shoved some clothes into the bad and hurried out. Given the choice between her hero and her babies there wasn't a choice at all.
Jun '03, Greenwich Connecticut
Charles Ashford stared proudly at his children as they played in the games room, their entire attention focused on the adventures of their stuffed toys. He wiped at a proud tear as his Hope leapt up and engulfed her brother in a hug. "Get off Hoppy!" Alex screamed, a look of mortification on his face.
Yes, they were a couple of prizes there was no doubt about. Every day he thanked his old friend Richard Wilkins, a business man he'd run security for on his east coast businesses, for getting in touch four years ago with news of a young girl who worked in his office who'd got in trouble with a boy from the wrong side of the streets. Unable to have children of their own, he and his wife had jumped at the chance to adopt the twins.
And whatever their biological parents' problems, they'd certainly passed on good genes to their children. Both the three year olds were adorable with the darkest eyes, most brilliant smiles, and more energy than a caffeine freak. Just a sharp as knives too, very intelligent. They could be anything they wanted – movie stars, athletes, scientists, the world was their oyster, he and his millions would make sure of that.
Suddenly Alex looked up at him, his dark eyes shining. "Daddy, you wanna play?"
Charles smiled at his son. "I'd love to Alex, just -," his head turned at a slight sound in the front room. "Stay in here," he ordered, his hand dropping to the .32 he carried under his jacket. As head of the nationwide Ashford Executive Security and a former Secret Service agent, he was licensed to carry a firearm and if someone was breaking into his house, threatening his children, then they were going to get a very unpleasant surprise. "And be quiet until daddy comes back."
He moved quickly into the corridor, his movements smooth and controlled, three decades of training and experience coming to the fore. Reaching the lounge door, he kicked it open and strode in, a confident expression on his face as he drew his automatic. "Drop to the gr-."
His voice stuck in his throat and his gun dropped through nerveless fingers as he registered the impossible sight before him. There stood a grey scaled nine foot tall biped with no eyes but a huge curved horn sticking out of its forehead, feasting on his wife's lifeless body. Suddenly the monster was on him, its huge hand around his throat, squeezing inexorably. His last thought before his larynx collapsed was that he'd failed in a parent's most important duty – to protect his children.
* * *
Hauser spoke into his radio as he exited the house. "Romulus and Remus are secured," he muttered even as he watched the two sedated children being flung into the back of the van. "Be careful with the cargo!" he bawled.
His plan had worked perfectly. Aware of Ashford's reputation in the world of security he'd realised that the only certain way not to suffer any causalities would be to use something even Ashford would be unprepared for - a demon. He looked back at the three storey mansion. "Are the children secured?" he asked into his mouthpiece.
His earpiece crackled with static for a second. "Both in place."
He nodded in satisfaction. It had taken a couple of days but they'd managed to find and snatch a pair of children the same age and size as their targets. The orphanage they snatched them from would report a pair of runaways, but the amount of effort the police would put into tracking down two children with no family would be practically non-existent. "Get out then, time to blow the house." Four bodies burnt to a frazzle, all the hallmarks of a tragic accident, a gas leak. Nobody would suspect a thing.
* * *
Ten days after 'Chosen', San Diego
Faith stared at the lonely figure stood on the hotel veranda, his back bent as if carrying the weight of the world. She supposed it was a good sign, him being out of his hotel room, he hadn't left it since they'd booked themselves in. But he looked so wrecked. Summoning up her courage, she strode over. "Hi," she whispered.
Xander flinched at her voice. She in turn cringed, fuck he wasn't still frightened of her after all these years was he? She'd made mistakes in the past but she'd never hurt any of them again, him least of all. "Just leave me alone," he ordered, his voice husky with pain and sorrow. "I haven't the energy to deal with you right now."
Instead, Faith started to talk. "I'm sorry about your loss, Xman. If sometime you wanna cut loose, tell stories about Anya to someone who didn't know her, maybe you'd keep me in mind." When her words didn't get a reaction, she tried again, putting a jauntier note into her voice. "Now that the First's toast, and there's a ton of Slayers, what ya gonna do? 'Cause if you're leaving, I was hoping we could hang for a while firs-."
Xander turned to face her. "Hang with you?" the look that her one-eyed companion was contemptuous to say the least. "Hang with the cold-hearted bitch tried to kill me and everybody that tried to help her? That chose a black mage over us? No thanks, I've picked up enough scars recently, I don't need another one in my back to match the one you put there last time."
Oh fuck this, Faith's temper snapped. She had Angel, Wes had forgiven her, she'd been accepted by Red, Ken, and Pip, all the junior Slayers respected her, Wood maybe loved her, and her and B were at least talking again. She didn't have to put up with Xander's crap. "You know when me and Red were on the way to Sunnyd, I was crapping myself with thoughts of what sort of reception I'd get from B, G, and Pip. One person I didn't worry about though was you. You know why? 'Cause I remembered this sweet guy who always tried to help a stupid little bitch who was too suspicious for her own good. I knew that Xander wouldn't hold a grudge, it wasn't in him. Trouble is I get back to Sunnyd and that Xander isn't there, in his place there's this grade A asshole. Well you can go to hell, I really looked forward to seeing you again, hooking up, maybe taking you up on that friendship you were always offering. Well I don't fucking need or want to be buds with the new improved Xander. The other one comes back, give me a call."
Faith turned to leave, only for Xander to grab her by the shoulder and spin her round to face him, his single eye glaring coldly at her. "You finished?" Xander asked. Without waiting for an answer he continued. "Then go fuck yourself. Better yet have Woodie do the job, poor bastard." The man released his grip. "If I want to talk to someone about Anya, I'll go to Giles, Will, or another member of my family. And that doesn't include you. And it never will. Turn on them again and I'll kill you, Angel, Wood, and anybody who takes your side."
* * *
"Faith are you-."
Her glare caused Andrew's words to die in his throat, as she stormed through the hotel corridor. God, if she hadn't walked away from him, she'd have done something to him, something real bad. She didn't know what it was about Xan that got to her, some of the guards inside had been far cruder towards her but she'd never once reacted until they tried to get physical.
Maybe it was because despite everything that had happened, she respected him for getting involved in the demon-fighting biz by choice, not being forced into it like her or B. What Red had told her about Xan saving the world from her when B couldn't had shaken her, she didn't think anybody could succeed at something that B couldn't, but Xman had managed it.
Tears of humiliation blurring her vision, she reached her hotel room. Unable to find her key she let out a frustrated snarl and kicked the door open. Striding in she looked around. "Woodie?" God she needed to feel his arms around her, to hear him tell her she wasn't a worthless slut. Her shoulders slumped when she didn't receive an answer. "Damn it Woodie, where are you?" she muttered. Deciding she'd have to make do with a morale- boosting call to Angel she moved over to the phone by the bed.
And stopped at the sight of an envelope on the bed. She lifted the manila envelope. "No postmark," she muttered. Noting it was addressed only with a 'F' she deduced it must be for her and eagerly tore it open, a piece of paper falling out of the envelope and onto the bed. Her earlier hurt replaced by curiosity, she began to read, stumbling occasionally over the double meaning contained within.
Dear Miss Faith,
It has come to the attention of Wolfram & Hart, that in '00, you entered into an agreement with us to undertake a certain job for us. You then broke our contract, an action that caused our law firm considerable inconvenience and loss of face within the community.
"Glad I could be of help," Faith muttered as she continued to read.
For a considerable amount of time the subject you were contracted to deal with has remained a thorn in our side. However given your newfound status our firm has decided to give you another chance to fulfil the work you were paid to do and enter into new employment with us. A fresh start if you will, working as our top contractor.
"You can fuck off," she growled. No way was she hurting Angel for anyone!
This post will include considerable side-benefits including but not limited to a hefty financial package, a sports car of your choice, an executive apartment, a healthcare package that is out of this world, and private schooling for your children. All paid for by W&H.
"What?" blood drained from Faith's face as the meaning of the words dawned on her. Her body trembling she continued to read.
If on the other hand you refuse this generous offer that would secure both your and your children's future, Wolfram and Hart cannot be held responsible to what could happen to them. This is, as you are most painfully aware, a cruel world for two children without a proper parent's protection. It behoves you as their mother to protect them. Make the right decision, be in LA in 24 hours' time. Your children are missing you.
Yours Sincerely
Mr. Daniel Wolfe
Faith's blood ran cold at the threat implicit in the letter's last paragraph. Her babies, the little twins who's ultra-sound she kept under the pillow of her prison bunk, kidnapped by Wolfram & Hart. It had to be a bluff. Except....
She looked down to the bed and picked up the paper that had dropped out of the letter. Her heart caught as she realised it was the photograph of two three year olds.
"Oh god," once again Faith felt tears burn her eyes. She thought she'd been scared before but now... She recognised the girl in the photograph. When she was three, before her mother's drinking had gotten real bad, they'd been out one day on a picnic and had a photograph taken of them together. She'd kept that photographs for years, until she'd met Jan her Watcher, to remind herself that her ma had once cared for her. And the baby girl in the photograph, her baby, god she looked so much like her at that age she had to be her daughter, she had to be. And the boy, Faith smiled tremulously, she recognised that goofy grin, could remember the days when the boy's father would direct it at her.
Her smile withered as she realised what she had to do. "I'm sorry Angel." Grabbing her duffle bag, she shoved some clothes into the bad and hurried out. Given the choice between her hero and her babies there wasn't a choice at all.