AN: Thank you for encouraging me in my guilty pursuits, MysticWolf1! Yes, I never wanted Rachel to be an all-powerful witch type (because, let's face it, all-powerful characters are just kind of boring). As far as power goes, I'd say she's average.
I know I mentioned that Lindsey and Lilah would be in this chapter, but it started running really long, so I had to break it up some. Tune in next chapter upload to see you favorite evil lawyers.
Chapter 5
Angel, Cordy, and Gunn departed, leaving Wesley alone with their latest "client." They stood regarding each other warily for a few seconds.
"Well," Wesley finally said. "It will be a while before they're back. Perhaps you should get some rest while it's quiet." A lot of rest, he mentally amended. She looked like death warmed over with a side of hash. Wesley was well versed in the stages of exhaustion. If she'd slept at all in the last two days, he'd eat his copy of the Ashuntu Codex.
"I'll rest when my uncle's safe," she replied shortly. She caught herself, seemed to realize that she was being rude, and smiled apologetically. "I mean, thank you, but I can't."
She was grateful when he didn't press the issue. "Tea then?" he asked. When in doubt, offer tea.
Wesley left her alone for a few minutes and returned to the lobby with a mug in one hand, and several books tucked under his arm. He handed off the tea and settled into an armchair across from her, spreading his source materials out on the coffee table. Rachel curled up in the corner of the sofa, watching curiously.
"Can I ask you a question?" she asked after a minute.
"Of course."
"Why are you guys helping me?"
Wesley glanced up from his book. "Angel told you why," he said.
"He did. But I think you'll give me a straight answer."
"Angel helps people in trouble. It's just what he does."
"I've never met that many helpful vampires," Rachel said.
"He's different. He has a soul."
"Big deal. People have souls and we do horrible things to each other all the time."
"He's been working to redeem himself for over a century. Soul aside, you don't do that unless you genuinely care about helping people." Wesley paused, and then decided to go for complete honesty. "And then there's the fact that Wolfram & Hart attempted to take advantage of your situation. That makes matters a bit more personal. He has quite a tumultuous history with them."
"Yeah, they don't like him very much either."
"Indeed."
"So by helping me he scores redemption points and gets to stick it to Wolfram & Hart?" Rachel asked. Because that was much easier for her to digest than the idea that the vampire wanted to help her just for the sake of helping her.
"I suppose you could look at it that way." Wesley raised an eyebrow. "Are you complaining?"
She held up a hand. "Nope. Right. I'll back away from the gift horse now." She took a drink of her tea and nearly choked in surprise at a sharp, spicy taste that made her nose and eyes burn. "Ivenseed?" she asked.
"Most effective for shoring up and helping to restore depleted magical reserves," Wesley replied. "It seemed advisable. Too strong?"
"No, it's fine." Just unexpected. She'd used her magic to attack them, and this one was concerned with getting her back up to full power? It crossed Rachel's mind that maybe everyone at Angel Investigations was certifiably insane.
"My Aunt Kathy mixes ivenseed so strong that it could almost take the top of your head off," she said, rambling a bit for the sake of filling the silence. "Anytime one of us even had a cold, it would be right there along with the chicken soup. Once she tried mixing it in the soup, but that didn't go over too well."
Wesley picked up the photo that Angel had left on the table and looked at the laughing woman. "You must be very close to your aunt and uncle."
"They raised me. Since I was nine," she replied.
"What happened to your parents?"
"They were killed," she said. "Line of duty. They were both Kindred too. So are two of my cousins. It's sort of a family tradition."
"Ah," Wesley said, managing to pack a world of commiseration into one syllable.
"Chris and Amy are on assignments out of the country right now. Which is just as well. Otherwise we'd all have to go back and face the music when this is over." At Wesley's questioning look she said, "I disobeyed orders by coming after the Saavin. Even Uncle James is going to read me the riot act if………" She trailed off, rubbing her thumb absently along the rim of the mug.
"If there's the slightest chance of getting him out of this alive, Angel will do so," Wesley said.
They lapsed into a not entirely uncomfortable silence. Wesley read and took notes, pausing every so often to ask Rachel a question about what she had observed of the Saavin. Rachel finished her tea and stared around the lobby of the Hyperion.
It really was a bizarre choice for a headquarters, she thought. The whole agency was bizarre. An ensouled vampire, a former Watcher, a street fighter, and a sometimes-actress. Wolfram & Hart's file on Angel had contained very little information on his human colleagues and how they had all wound up here. And Rachel could feel her curiosity starting to get the better. Surely they wouldn't mind if she asked some questions of her own.
But before she could, the single leaf of greymint that Wesley had slipped in her tea along with the ivenseed took effect, and she slid almost instantaneously into a deep and dreamless sleep.
"God, this place is a dive," Cordelia said.
The Riverside Motel wasn't exactly the Ritz. It wasn't even the Budget Inn. It looked like the sort of place where you paid in cash, were in walking distance of discount liquor, and the motel room artwork consisted of chalk outlines and avant garde blood spatters. Gunn and Cordelia had to edge past a wino, passed out on the walkway, to get to the door of Rachel's room.
Cordelia opened the door and fumbled for the light switch. Gunn closed and bolted the door behind them.
"All the warmth of a French prison," Cordelia said, looking around. "This reminds me of my first apartment."
"It's a sight better than some of the places I've lived," Gunn said. "I guess she wanted to keep a low profile. Let's make this quick. We still have to swing back around by Caritas and pick up her car."
There wasn't much to do. The motel room looked largely untouched. There was a duffle lying across the made-up bed, and a sturdy brown canvas shoulder bag on the floor by the desk. This clearly served as some sort of spell kit, judging by its contents and the paraphernalia spread out on the desktop. Cordelia carefully packed these items up as Gunn did a quick sweep of the room.
Cordelia sighed at the thought of Caritas. "So much for our night off," she said. "What are we doing instead? Playing bellhop in pay-by-the-hour central for a woman who dumped garbage on my head and tried to kill my boss. Does that strike you as even remotely right?"
"She needs help," Gunn said, checking the closet.
"Well, she's not exactly helpless," Cordelia replied. "And when she did decide she needed help, she went straight to Evil Inc."
"She thought she didn't have a choice."
"You always have a choice," Cordelia said. "And her choice was Wolfram & Hart."
"Sometimes when you're backed into a corner, you make stupid decisions," Gunn said. "Besides, I didn't hear you objecting to any of this back at the hotel."
"Yeah, well…." Cordelia hedged, not quite ready to give up indignation for sympathy. Still she couldn't quite help it. "She had that look. You know?"
"The 'loved one in mortal danger' look? Yeah, I got that too," Gunn replied. They saw that look a lot in their line of work.
Cordelia zipped the bag closed. "It looks like that's it. I say we drop the key at the office and get the heck out of here."
"Fine by me." Gunn hefted the duffle and held open the door for her. "I wonder how Angel's making out."
"Well, he's already taken out a witch tonight," Cordelia said, carefully stepping past the sleeping drunk. "What are a few demons?"
As their footsteps retreated, the drunk opened one eye and glanced around. He stood up, brushed off his clothes distastefully, pulled a cell phone out of his pocket, and dialed a number.
"Mr. McDonald? It's Rogers—you had me staking out the witch's motel? No, she hasn't come back, but a couple of Angel's people just stopped by. It looks like he killed her."