8. "Girl Interrupted"
The rush of air made Giles pause with his cup of tea halfway to his mouth; he was familiar with sound of air being displaced that accompanied teleportation, however Willow and Tara usually had the common courtesy to materialize outside his front door, "Giles!" Tara called out.
Giles emerged from the kitchen, "I'm here."
He almost backed up when he saw the expression on her face, "When was the last time you had contact with the Watchers Council?" she demanded.
"Well apart from paying my salary every month the last time would have been when I asked them to fax me some pages from a manuscript." Giles answered even though he wasn't happy about being interrogated.
Tara seemed content with his answer and Giles realised that she had been reading his aura; looking for any sign he was lying. That offended Giles almost as much as it worried him, "What is going on Tara?"
Tara fixed him with a hard stare, "I need to know everything you know about the Watcher's headquarters."
"With a view to doing what precisely?" Giles wasn't answering without at the very least being treated with some respect.
"Knocking it to the ground if we have to." Was Tara's unsettling reply.
"Tara," Giles began in a soothing tone.
Tara cut him off, "Giles don't. You can be our friend or you can be a Watcher but right now you can't be both. You have to choose."
It was clear to Giles that Tara deadly serious. To make the decent and conciliatory Tara Maclay so harsh and angry the Watchers must have done something appalling; and that made the choice simple, "Alright I'm hardly an artist but I can draw you a rough map and give you a good idea of what to expect by way of precautions."
Tara relaxed visibly; she hadn't been looking forward to a confrontation with Giles. She had been prepared to do it if necessary but she would really rather not.
As he was drawing Giles decided to try one more time to find exactly what was going on, "Tara I might be able to help more if I understood what was going on, I might even be able to talk to the Council."
"Definitely not." Tara turned the offer down flat.
"Tara please you can't simply expect me to help you destroy them without knowing why." Giles held the finished map in his hands; he knew Tara could simply take it from him, he hoped that she wouldn't.
"They took her." The words hurt Tara to say.
Giles didn't understand, "They took Willow."
"They took LJ, they took our daughter." Tara took the map from Giles hands as she spoke and then dematerialized.
Giles barely even noticed she was gone; too appalled at the suicidal insanity of the Council to pay attention to anything else.
Willow stormed up the steps of the hotel; she had only the vaguest notion of its location and that meant she had to settle for teleporting into a clear area nearby. Before she could touch the doors Angel stepped out of the shadows, "Hi Willow."
"You were expecting me?” Willow let magic crackle over her fingers in readiness.
"Cordelia had a vision." Angel explained; he maintained an easy stance to avoid antagonizing Willow. Cordy had been very clear that would be a bad idea.
"You aren't going to stop me seeing Wesley." Willow made it sound like an order.
Angel found it hard to stay casual. Willow had changed a lot since he left Sunnydale and right now he wasn't sure it was for the better, "He's one of the good guys, so it would be nice if you could do it without making his head explode."
Willow didn't respond; she simply walked past him into the lobby. The first people she spotted as she entered were a young black man and a girl with long dark hair engaged in earnest discussion, "Where's Wesley?"
The dark haired girl approached her, "You're Willow, I'm Fred."
The girl was doing her best to be friendly and any other time Willow would have been happy to indulge. Right now all she wanted was a few words with an ex-watcher, "Hello, now where's Wesley?"
Fred took a couple of steps back as Willow's eyes flared into blackness. A door at the back of the lobby opened and Wesley stepped out, accompanied by a green skinned demon that looked vaguely familiar.
"Long time no see." Lorne announced.
"Forget the pleasantries, she thinks her personal problems entitle her to walk all over us." Cordelia had been upstairs but walked out onto the landing as she heard Willow's voice.
"Cordy." Angel warned her.
"Oh what she doesn't care, she's just wants to blow this place up to make herself feel better." Cordelia responded dismissively.
From any other source that remark might have precipitated a flurry of energy bolts. There was another instinct at work however; an old ingrained desire to prove she was a better person than Cordelia Chase, "I'm not here for trouble I just need to talk with Wesley about the Watchers," she tried, not wholly successfully, to sound reasonable.
"I'm prepared to help if I can." Wesley offered.
"Then you have you heard from Quentin Travers lately?" Willow asked tartly.
Wesley shuffled uncomfortably, "He phoned me a few weeks ago, he wanted me to help him."
"With what?" Willow asked dangerously.
"That he would only tell me if I agreed to work with him and since I didn't agree he didn't tell me." Wesley explained, "I wasn't especially interested. I made my break with the Watchers a long time ago and I suspected Quentin was looking for someone expendable in case he needed a scapegoat."
"You have no idea where he is?" Willow was slightly mollified by Wesley's candour.
"If I did I would be glad to tell you."
Willow had to accept that, Wesley had no reason to lie and the way the rest of Angel Investigations were arrayed to protect him said that they believed him, "You won't mind telling me everything you know about the council HQ then?"
Wesley hesitated, "Do it Wesley." Lorne and Cordelia called out practically in unison. Both had caught glimpses of how important this was and under their joint pressure Wesley had no choice.
Gareth Thompson was an nth generation Watcher. His family pedigree with the organization went back so far that it simply merged with the mists of time. In all that history no one had bothered to mention that a great part of watching consisted of staring at a clock on a wall. Of course there was only one Slayer, well two after the peculiar events of recent years, and that meant that only one Watcher could be engaged in the highest calling but there a small army of potential successors to be found and trained, events in America simply reinforced the importance of that work.
Unfortunately that work also needed someone to man the office and maintain the support system that made it all possible, and the someone at the moment was Thompson. When the phone started ringing Thompson answered it in a leisurely fashion since he was certain it would simply mean more paperwork, "Gareth Thompson."
"
Thompson? I want to speak to the council."
"Rupert Giles? How are things in Sunnyvale?" Thomas was grateful to hear from Giles; the Watcher's field reports were among the few highlights of Thompson's working life.
"It's Sunnydale and I don't have time for chit chat." Giles sounded very perturbed.
Thompson was smart enough to know that meant trouble, "You have some new crisis?"
"No, you do, and it’s entirely of your own making." Giles let all his frustration spill out.
Thompson on the other hand felt as if his wish for some excitement was coming back to haunt him, "What exactly are we talking about?"
"The Council's apparent decision to declare war on the Slayer's friends." Giles wanted to speak to someone who actually had authority but he knew Thompson; the man wouldn't let him past unless he was convinced that it was important, or at the very least it wouldn't make him look foolish.
Thompson still hadn't reached that point, "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. As far as I know we have no interest in any of the Slayer's friends."
"Thompson listen to me, if you don't pass me up the chain quickly there may not be any Council this time tomorrow." Giles was practically pleading.
"There isn't anyone here right now and I’m not calling anyone without knowing what I’m calling them about." Thompson was not going to be bounced into premature action regardless of how belligerent Giles became. He didn't hear Giles response because a very loud alarm bell drowned it out. It was several seconds before it sank in that the building was under attack. Thompson ran for the office door; leaving the receiver dangling from the desk and Giles demanding to know what was going on.
9. "Who Watches The Watchers?"
Thompson practically ran over one of the security men and nearly knocked the gun out of his hand, "What's happening?" Thomas demanded.
"Well how the bloody hell should I know?" The guard was aggrieved.
Thomas was going to reprimand him when a second alarm joined the first. He decided he better head to the front door and see for himself, which proved easier said than done. As he ran down a short staircase towards what had once upon a time been a grand reception hall he was halted by one of the Watcher's wizards, "I've raised a barrier across the inner doors, that should hold them for a while."
Thompson had a sinking feeling as soon as the wizard made his confident pronouncement. His instincts proved correct as lightning crackled over the inner panels of the double doors. The doors shattered as if they were made of glass and the barrier flared and flickered. Turning to look at the wizard Thompson saw that the man was sweating and shaking. As the cloud of debris settled the Watcher finally caught site of their attackers and suddenly remembered that he had left Giles hanging on the line.
Racing back into his office Thompson scooped up the receiver and was relieved to discover that the other Watcher was still there, "They're here!" Thompson practically shrieked.
"Willow and Tara?" It was a rhetorical question on Giles part.
Thompson was too panicked too realise that, "Rosenberg and Maclay of course that's who I mean! What do they want? What should we do?"
Giles could hear the faint sounds of chaos at the Watchers HQ even over Thompson's shouting, "[/i]Under the circumstances I would suggest surrendering[/i]."
Thompson was still staring at the telephone when the security guard staggered back into the room. He raised his firearm but it flew out of his hand before he could use it. The guard was pinned against the wall as Willow and Tara walked in. The couple was practically glowing with magic and their eyes were jet black. Under the circumstances Thompson did the only thing he could think of; he stretched his hands above his head.
Rounding up everyone in the building took Willow and Tara a little time but most of them went quietly. One exception was the wizard who had put up the barrier; he was gently sobbing, "Try and show a little dignity." Willow found the display disturbing and nauseating in equal measures.
Tara was watching Thompson who was sat at his desk with his hands carefully folded on the polished top. He hadn't said a word since his surrender; largely because he had no idea how to open the conversation.
Willow walked back into the room; "I locked them all in the library."
"Keeping them in their natural environment." Tara observed.
"I thought so." Willow turned her attention onto Thompson, "Are you going to co-operate or are you one of Travers toadies?"
Thompson began to get an inkling of what this was about, and it didn't make him feel any better, "If I say that I have no idea where he is will that get me turned into a rodent?"
"It could." Willow growled.
Tara could tell that Thompson was terrified but truthful, "Tell us what you do know."
Thompson could tell the difference between a request and an order, "Quentin, despite appearances to the contrary, did not take being put in his place by the Slayer well. He stepped up the covert surveillance and took a great interest in Giles’ back dated reports about something called 'The Initiative'."
Willow nodded, so far all Thompson was telling them was what she had already guessed, "And then he just what, went out to lunch one day and didn't come back?"
"He informed the Council that US surveillance had turned up a governmental operation interfering with things better left alone. It seemed entirely reasonable that he should go and personally over see the effort to persuade them to discontinue it." At the time it had seemed reasonable. Thompson was no beginning to grasp that they had given Travers a blank cheque for some personal crusade.
"Then we need to see the records." Willow decided.
Thompson was hesitant, "Which ones?"
Willow smiled at his bemusement, "All of them, we need to track down everyone he could have recruited to help him and everywhere he could be hiding."
"I can't just open the archives." Thompson was truly horrified; whatever he did here it was the end of his career.
Tara was quiet but firm, "Yes you can Mr. Thompson because you don't have a choice."
The atmosphere in the lab had become increasingly tense since Willow and Tara had departed. This was largely due to the fact that it was only after they had gone that anyone dared breath a word about what had happened. Soon rumours were flying around the complex; growing larger and more incredible as they went. "The way I hear it their going to polygraph and drug test everyone in the company."
"Come on Lisa they can't do that." The woman's colleague really wanted to focus his attention on the tray of food in front of him.
Lisa however wasn't about to give him the opportunity, "What makes you so sure? Have you read all the small print in your contract?"
The man wasn't going to admit he hadn't, "Even if they could it would cost a fortune to do it. The bosses aren't going to waste money like that. I think this is all some screw up and by tomorrow this whole security circus will have moved on." With that he looked at his plate and shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth.
At the next table the man known to his colleagues as David Sloan had been reading his newspaper and taking the occasional sip of coffee from a plastic cup. With the coffee finished Sloan folded up his paper and walked quietly out of the canteen. He managed to maintain an air of calm detachment despite being on the brink of panic.
There was not supposed to be any sort of official investigation into what had happened here; Tomarov should have been too afraid to go to his superiors and there had been no evidence of any outside collaborators. At the very least Sloan should have had weeks to quit and leave without arousing any suspicion. Instead he saw little choice but to finish out the day and then climb in his car and disappear.
Sloan walked into his office, and immediately tried to walk right back out. The door slamming shut of its own accord prevented that.
Willow was sat in his chair and Tara was stood next to it. Tomarov was gazing out of the window. None of them looked very friendly, "There's no point in trying to leave Mr. Coleman."
Hearing his real name startled Coleman but he maintained a calm exterior, "I'm afraid you're mistaken."
Tara had been holding a sheet of paper with a photograph paper clipped to it, "Well then its a really amazing likeness in this file we got from the Watcher archive."
Coleman took the paper reluctantly. The sight of what was clearly an original cracked the agent’s veneer, "How did you get that?"
"We kicked in the door and took it," Willow explained reasonably, "You could speak to Mr. Thompson except we ripped the phone out before we left."
Coleman felt vulnerable and alone, which was naturally the point of this approach, "What do you want?"
"I want to know where Travers has taken the embryo." Willow demanded.
Coleman looked at Tomarov, "That's what you were working on?" Coleman was surprised, "I just knew it was some sort of bio material." Coleman could see he didn’t impress the witches, "Look Travers had me watching this place. Last week he calls me direct and wants to know if anything big has happened. I told him that the doctor seemed especially pleased with himself and I thought he had made some big breakthrough."
Tomarov looked over at Willow and Tara, "How could this, Watcher, know before Sloan, Coleman told him?"
"The Watchers keep a bunch of Seers on their payroll. When you succeeded there was a really big magical surge and they felt it." Just like I did. Tara couldn't help berating herself; LJ had been calling to her and she hadn't understood.
Tomarov didn't notice Tara's brooding, "So he put two and two together and contacted this rat."
Coleman bridled at the description, "I was doing my job."
"Just obeying orders huh?" Willow couldn't resist the jibe.
Coleman bit back an equally sharp response and Tara decided to get back to what was important here, "Where is Travers now and what did he do with what he stole from the lab?"
Since it was perfectly clear that the Watchers couldn't very well complain about his spilling secrets Coleman gave them what he had, "He didn't share about the, embryo, but I do know where he was heading. He was going to Los Angeles to tidy up some loose ends. The way he said it I was glad he left me here."
Tara found that the knot in her stomach was actually capable of getting tighter. Travers heading for California could only mean trouble, Slayer type trouble.
10. "The Great Escape"
Lizard Island women’s prison was one of the newest in California; built in the same law and order jag that brought in the 'three strikes' rule. It was a matter of debate amongst the politicians whether the way it had rapidly filled up constituted a success.
The exercise yard was a rectangle of concrete bounded by the grey wall of one of the cellblocks on one side and multiple layers of fences and guard towers on the other three. The yard itself was dotted with a series of token gestures towards giving the inmates something to do; a basketball hoop, a bench with weights and some fading lines for various sports marked out on the cement. In practice the main recreational activities were yard fights and glowering at one another.
One recreational activity that Faith had put a stop to was Slayer bashing. When she first arrived there had a queue of people intent on showing her that she wasn't so tough. After she bent and broke half a dozen of the contenders the word got out that she was that tough. That in turn had created its own problems. A number of women had approached her looking to get physical in a quite different way.
Faith had turned them all down; not because she was repelled so much as she simply wanted to be alone and get on with her time. Her instinct was to pull back from getting close to anyone regardless of gender.
A tap on the shoulder made Faith spin round, "Visitors for you."
"Thanks I'd tip you but I'm fresh out of change." Faith knew it would just get her a hard time but she still hadn't learnt to keep her mouth shut.
The guard had heard it all before, "Yeah, yeah. Before you get your hopes up it ain't the tall moody guy."
Faith hadn't been expecting Angel to visit for another week or two anyway, and certainly not in broad daylight, "It isn't a girl my age, blonde or maybe a redhead?"
The guard gave Faith a nasty grin, "Guess you're more 'flexible' than you let on. No it’s a bunch of do gooders from some prison reform group. Got the governors permission to interview prisoners."
Faith was relieved that it wasn't Buffy or her buddies, still that didn't mean she was going to be taken advantage of, "So I don't have to see them right?"
"You're within your rights to refuse. Of course if I have to waste my time hanging around while they pick someone else that isn't going to make me happy." The guard pointed out.
And if you're unhappy I'll be downright miserable. Faith understood the implication clearly, "Fine, I'll go talk to them."
The guard handed Faith off to one of his colleagues who sat her down in a meeting room. Once she was settled the door opened again and the delegation walked in. The door slammed shut and the guard pulled her gun before even Faith could make a move, "Please sit down Faith."
Travers attempt at politeness cut no ice with the Slayer, "What the hell are you doing here Quentin?"
"Haven't you heard? We're reviewing prison conditions. How exactly are you finding them?" Travers clearly felt he had the upper hand.
If it hadn't been for the gun trained on her Faith would have been happy to correct that impression. She glanced at the prison guard, "I guess she's one your trained chimps."
Travers pursed his lips, "We aren't here to discuss her, we're here to discuss your future."
Faith put her feet on the table, "Yeah well that's pretty much settled for the next two to four."
"It doesn't have to be," Travers corrected her, "We have contacts, arrangements could be made. You could be out of here within a week."
"Right and then you own my ass." Faith was disparaging, "Sorry Q you'll just have to go buy it somewhere else, like you usually do."
Travers shook his head, "A pity but if you want to remain here we'll both just have to live with that."
One of the group had been holding a silver pen, and hearing the code phrase they depressed a switch and a dart struck Faith in the neck. She tried to rise but found her limbs had turned to jelly. "Don't worry Faith it's simply a muscle relaxant." Travers explained and then produced a small syringe from his pocket, "This on the other hand will induce an aneurysm in the brain. Given your record of head trauma no one will question your untimely death. I'm sorry its come to this Faith; we need to secure the future of the Slayer. It has to be put back in the hands of those who understand the big picture."
"I don't think I like your picture." Travers practically broke his neck looking over his shoulder. Willow reached out and plucked the syringe from his hand.
The guard swung his gun from Faith to Willow, at which point Tara appeared next to him and put her hand on the automatic. Magical energy surged through the weapon and the guard had no choice but to drop it. She couldn't even flex the fingers let alone hold a weapon.
Willow raised her hand and let lightning play across her fingers, "Unless anyone wants to get fried they better line up against the wall," she gestured to unbroken wall to her right.
The Watchers filed between Willow and Tara and lined up with their backs to the wall. Travers made to rise and Willow put her hand on his shoulder, "You stay right where you are Quentin."
Tara kept one eye on the Watchers and placed her hand on Faith. The Slayer felt a surge of warmth and her body started working again. She was considering giving Travers a taste of his own medicine by the simple expedient of breaking every bone in his body. Something in Willow's expression dissuaded her.
Willow walked around to face Travers. Without another word she struck him with a bolt and he jerked in his seat, "I want you to understand if you don't give us what we want I'm going to keep hurting you until you do. And if she's gone then this will be your last day on earth."
Faith wondered how Willow expected Travers to fall for a bluff like that; Willow wouldn't hurt a fly. She was going to make a comment when her gaze locked with the witch’s; it was no bluff, "Jeez Q you really know how to piss people off."
Travers managed to shake off the bolt, "I have a higher responsibility that I won't betray."
Willow knew that she had to puncture Travers pomposity, "If you mean to the Watchers then I wouldn't worry about that. We've pretty much taken care of them."
"What do you mean?" There was a minute quaver in Travers voice as he spoke.
Tara answered the question, "She means we walked in, rounded them up and they're probably still locked in that library."
Willow didn't give Travers time to react, "We got all the records. We know where your agents are; we know where you keep your money and all the interesting information you use to extort favours from people. You don't run the Watchers anymore; we do." As she spoke Willow drove a series of images into Travers mind. Images of Thompson and the HQ, not mention all the documents they had read.
"You wouldn't destroy the Watchers, the damage you would do to the cause." Travers was dazed and reeling.
Faith laughed contemptuously, "Yeah cause you guys have been doing such a bang up job lately."
"Give her back Travers, or I swear it’s the end of your little club." Willow could see the doubt shifting into panic in Travers eyes as she spoke.
Travers didn't want to believe what Willow had shown him; it had to be some sort of bluff. And yet how could they know so much if it wasn't true? How could he take the risk and destroy the organization he had given his life to? "The embryo is unharmed. We arranged its safe storage until we could decide on a suitable recipient."
Now Tara gave him a hard look, "That was never your decision to make."
Willow pulled Travers out of the chair, "Lets go Quentin," she looked at the other Watchers, "I'm sure you'll manage to talk your way out of here, and if not, tough."
Tara suddenly looked at Faith, "We could take you with us."
Faith considered it for a moment, "Nah, the whole fugitive thing is a drag. Besides it'll be fun watching these clowns try and explain where Q went."
Tara nodded and took one of Travers arms. In a flash the two witches and the Watcher were gone.
Faith climbed out of her chair, "Before you go I think I'm going to give you all something to remember me by."
The remaining Watchers had a hard time talking their way out of the prison, especially as they had lost one of their number and acquired an inexplicable collection of cuts and bruises.
11. "Golden Years"
Nothing about the rest of the day helped improve Willow and Tara's mood. To begin with Travers idea of a safe place to keep the embryo was a facility used in the artificial insemination of horses and cattle. That had nearly gotten the Watcher fried on the spot. To make matters worse they couldn't simply teleport Tomarov to them. He was insistent on driving his equipment to them; he was concerned it might be destabilized by teleportation and he couldn't guarantee LJ's safety if they teleported her to him.
That had left Willow and Tara cooling their heels in the company of Quentin Travers. By the time Tomarov arrived they were pacing like caged animals, "Ladies I got here as quickly as I could, I even have the speeding ticket to prove it," he spotted Travers sat on his hands, "this is the gentleman who broke into my lab?"
Willow nodded impatiently and Tomarov strode over to Travers. Without a word Tomarov swung a right hook and knocked the Watcher off his chair, "How dare you interfere with things beyond your comprehension."
Travers was so taken aback that he simply lay there staring up at the scientist. Tomarov turned back to Willow and Tara flexing his hand and wincing, "That was surprisingly satisfying."
"Could you please check the container?" Willow could appreciate the sentiment behind Tomarov's action but right now she had bigger concerns.
Tomarov nodded and unpacked the equipment he had brought from the laboratory. With the speed and precision born of long experience he hooked the monitoring equipment into the module. After a few minutes of calibration Tomarov came up with an image. He tapped away on a console and the image went through a series of different colour schemes until Tomarov was finally satisfied, "Everything is fine, she's none the worse for her adventure."
"Then you can transfer her back to the lab safely?" Willow wanted to be very clear that this was risk free.
"No." Willow was startled by Tara’s emphatic comment; "I mean that's not the safest place for her."
"Then where do we take her?" Willow felt events were still staying a couple of paces ahead of her.
Tara took Willow's hands in hers, "I'm pretty sure you already know. You know why I heard her when you didn't."
That had bothered Willow. Yes LJ's Slayerness had affected Buffy and Dawn but only Tara had heard her. Why one parent and not the other? Because one has a closer connection than the other. There was only one possibility, "You're right baby, but are you ready?"
Tara smiled, "Never more ready," she walked over to the containment device and let her fingers rest on the chamber. Do you want come with me? Tara wasn't sure what answer she expected but suddenly her ears were filled with the sound of a laughing child and then there was a rush of magic like none she experienced before.
As Tara staggered back Willow rushed to her side and supported her. Tomarov looked at the display screen and was concerned to see it was blank. He looked at the two witches and it sank in. He smiled and nodded; "I think I'm out of a job, especially since my lab computer is about to have an unfortunate accident which will destroy all my notes."
Having made sure Tara was ok Willow turned to Tomarov, "That could cause you problems."
"I don't think so, the director is too afraid of a return visit from you two; he'll be more than happy to help me sweep it under the carpet."
Tara had felt woozy for a minute or two. As her senses returned she spotted Travers edging towards the door, "Don't go anywhere Mr. Travers we still want to talk to you."
Tara spoke softly and yet Travers felt compelled to freeze on the spot. Tomarov gave the Watcher a disdainful look, "Will you be alright with him?"
"We'll be just fine." Willow assured him, in a tone that made Travers shiver.
The living room of the Summers house was bursting at the seams. Not only was the entire gang in attendance but there was the whole of Quentin Travers team; and of course the man himself.
Tara had the comfortable armchair with as many cushions as Dawn could force on her. Willow settled for balancing on the arm of the chair and watching amusedly as Dawn ran back and forth offering her other half the contents of fridge and medicine cabinet.
There was a rap on the front door and Giles went to answer it. Gareth Thompson walked in flanked by a couple of the other Watchers from the headquarters. He looked nervously around and fixed his gaze on Quentin Travers. Willow was enjoying their mutual discomfort but decided Buffy would probably like her living room back sooner rather than later, "As you can see Mr. Thompson we didn't turn him into a frog or anything."
After several days of being in the custody of Willow and Tara Travers had managed to re-establish his usual cool veneer, "Have you made our travel arrangements?"
Thompson shuffled his feet, "More or less but there are other issues to be discussed."
"Then perhaps we should discuss them in private." Travers suggested.
Now Willow interrupted, "That would be sort of difficult since it involves us as well."
Travers looked distinctly unsettled by that, "You have nothing to do with Watchers Council business."
"And neither do you." Willow knew it was petty to enjoy that but she couldn't help it.
Travers looked at Thompson, "I'm afraid the rest of the Council met in your absence; they agreed that it would be best for you to retire."
"That is absurd, I insist on speaking to them personally." Travers blustered.
Willow answered before Thompson could, "They won't change their mind, " she glanced at Thompson, "At least they better not."
"I assure you we won't renege on the terms." Thompson told her hastily.
That dragged Travers attention to the witches, "What is he talking about?"
Willow decided to defer to Tara, "Mr. Travers have you heard the phrase; 'who watches the watchers?' Well the answer is we do."
"That's absurd." Travers reaction made Thompson wince.
Giles spoke up, "Not really Quentin, you've demonstrated that you are unfit to wield the power you hold. And how many of the others let you get on with it on a nod and a wink? Someone has to restrain your ego."
"We weren't bluffing in LA," Willow reminded him, "We do have all your records and we will be watching to see how you behave. Any thing like this happens again and we really will pull the whole thing down."
Travers was going to answer that but he took in the expressions on Willow and Tara's faces; not to mention Thompson's. Without a further word Travers and his gang filed out past Thompson, who simply nodded by way of farewell and followed after them.
"And that's that." Buffy was relieved to see the back of the Watchers; not least because she had only just vacuumed the carpet. She decided that she needed a coffee and walked into the kitchen. Willow and Tara saw their opportunity and followed behind her.
"Buffy we wanted to talk to you about something." Willow commented; almost making Buffy drop the coffee mug she was holding.
Putting it down safely Buffy answered them, "Sure. Wait this isn't about the Watcher's records is it? You didn't find out something terrible about me did you?"
"Nothing we didn't already know," Willow teased, "this is something personal, about LJ's name."
Buffy looked blank and then it sank in, "Right, LJ not actually being a name."
Tara nodded, "We decided the 'L' should be for Lydia after my grandmother."
"And we wondering, "Willow took over smoothly, "if we could make the 'J' for Joyce."
Buffy nearly knocked the coffee cup off the worktop, "Joyce? As in my mom?"
Tara looked concerned, "She did so much to help us we thought it would be right. But if you don't want us too..."
Buffy cut that off with a crushing hug and then remembering Tara's condition let her go and turned to Willow instead and practically hugged the life out of her, "It's a great idea thank you so much."
The couple had gone for a walk in the park and Willow was watching Tara closely, "What?" Tara wanted to know.
"You are sort of glowing." Willow explained.
Tara smiled and then frowned, "You mean that figuratively right?"
"Yeah, the bloom of motherhood, not magic." Willow chuckled.
"Do you think she hated the names?" Tara asked abruptly.
Willow was puzzled, "Buffy seemed really happy."
"I mean Lydia Joyce, or LJ as she seemed to prefer." Tara clarified.
Willow slipped an arm around her waist. "Honey if that's the most embarrassing thing we do to her as parents then she's getting off lightly."
Tara laughed out loud, and she could swear she heard an answering giggle from somewhere inside her.
Willow: ...I have to tell you....
Tara: No, I understand you have to be with the person you l-love
Willow: I am
at: 6/30/03 11:53 am
) and reading!!!
