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Title: Fall Along the Way
Author: Karen U
E-mail: ksu2@juno.com
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All wrestling characters belong to the WWF; all BtVS/Angel
characters belong to Joss Whedon, the WB, and Fox Studios
Distribution: Anyone with previous permission to post my fic is welcome to
this
Pairing (as of now): Willow/Jeff Hardy
Spoilers: For WWF - the July 10 RAW where Jericho got attacked by Triple H;
For Buffy/Angel - this is set a year after Season 4/Season 1, so there will
be a lot of changes, but all episodes up through Restless/To Shanshu in LA
are fair game; also, Tara never existed
Summary: I suck at summaries, so please just give this a try
Feedback: Please

Part One

Matt Hardy took a seat on the barstool, setting his drink down on the table
and glancing at the two men he was with as he did so. "So, guys, what are
we doing?"

"Coming up with new ‘I’s," Jeff replied, his voice a bit distracted. Matt
noticed that his rainbow-haired younger brother had peeled the label off his
half-empty beer bottle and was now playing with the pieces, a definite sign
that he was bored. After a few seconds, however, Jeff’s words sank in, and
Matt blinked in confusion.

"New eyes?" the older Hardy repeated questioningly.

"Yeah, for Kirk Angel," Chris Jericho, the other occupant of the table,
replied, once again purposely screwing up the Olympic gold medalist’s name.
"You know, integrity and all that crap. We’re coming up with new, more
appropriate ones. So far we’ve got ignorant and idiotic. We need one
more."

"Okay," Matt said slowly as he studied Jericho. Now, he wouldn’t say that
Y2J was drunk - at least, he wasn’t yet - but the man was definitely buzzed.
"Um... how about imbecile?" Matt offered after a moment.

Chris nodded slowly before taking a gulp of his beer. He was pretty sure
that the beer he was currently working on was his fourth, but there was
always the slight chance that he had counted wrong and it was actually his
fifth. "Imbecile," he said, trying out the word Matt had come up with.
"That’s a good one. I like it. Now on to the next challenge," Chris stated
as he shifted uncomfortably on his stool. His ribs were killing him - damn
that Triple H - and he was drinking as much as he could in order to take the
edge off the pain. Of course, the drinking would leave him with a pounding
headache in the morning, but hey, thanks to the stitches in his forehead,
his head already hurt anyway.

"And what is this next challenge?" Matt asked, not entirely sure he wanted
to know.

Jeff looked up from the design he was currently creating using the scraps
from his beer label and smirked in response to his older brother’s question.
"New adjectives to describe Stephanie."

"Skanky trash-bag tramp," Jericho muttered as he placed a hand over his
injured ribs. Visions of Stephanie’s husband hitting him with a
sledgehammer danced through his head, and the handsome Canadian scowled,
anger flashing in his blue eyes. "She can just go to hell. And so can that
dumbass husband of hers..."

The Hardy brothers exchanged a glance, both knowing that a long and
swear-laden tirade was on the way. Not that they really blamed their
injured friend. If Triple H had done that to one of them, they’d be beyond
pissed, too. Plus, some of the images of the bloody and violent things
Chris wanted to do to Triple H and company were kind of intriguing. Even
so, Matt lost interest in the monologue sometime during a particularly nasty
idea involving pliers.

As Y2J’s words faded into background noise for the wrestler, Matt let his
gaze travel around the club they were in, his eyes resting momentarily on
Edge and Christian. The tag team champions were sitting with one of the new
wrestlers - some guy by the name of West (Matt wouldn’t have been able to
remember the guy’s first name if his life had depended on it) - but neither
brother was paying much attention to the guy. In fact, if Matt wasn’t
mistaken, Christian was nearly asleep. Edge, on the other hand, was
spending his time grinning at passing coeds. When that West guy (what was
his first name, dammit?) realized he had lost his audience, he glared at the
tag team champs before lapsing into silence.

Sighing, Matt pushed his dark hair out of his face before shifting his gaze
to his younger brother, who had apparently lost interest in making smiley
faces with beer label scraps, instead staring at something (or, more likely,
someone) just outside of Matt’s peripheral vision. Trying not to be obvious
(not that Jeff would have really noticed it if he was - the younger Hardy’s
attention was definitely focused elsewhere) Matt turned his head slightly,
and he immediately saw just what his younger brother was staring at.

A trio of young people - two girls and a guy - were gathered at the bar,
talking. Matt immediately scratched the guy off the list of possibilities
for Jeff’s attention, but he couldn’t tell which of the two young women his
brother was staring at. Both girls were pretty, and both were definitely
dressed for clubbing. The brunette was wearing dark jeans with a sheer
black top, and the redhead wore black leather pants and a green halter top.
The two seemed to be arguing about something, however, and Matt could see a
look of annoyance cross the redhead’s face as the brunette grabbed the hand
of the guy they were with and pulled him to the dance floor. As the redhead
looked at her watch - clearly ready to leave - Matt switched his gaze back
to his little brother, whose eyes were still glued to the young woman at the
bar. Matt smiled slightly. So it was the redhead that Jeff was staring at.

Taking another gulp of his beer, Matt turned his gaze back to the redhead,
who was now talking on a cellular phone. As soon as she hung up, she made
her way to the dance floor, passing by the table occupied by West, Edge, and
Christian (who now appeared to be fully awake) on her way. Matt smiled at
the disappointed look that crossed Edge’s face when the redhead passed by
without so much as a glance in the blonde wrestler’s direction, but his
smile faded quickly when he saw the stunned look of recognition that crossed
West’s face. The elder Hardy exchanged a glance with his brother when West
stood up to follow the pretty young woman. Before he could reach her,
however, the redhead and her friends were heading out of the club in two
different directions - the redhead made a quick stop to apparently pay their
tab before going out one exit while the brunette and the guy used another.

And West was following the redhead.

Matt quickly exchanged another look with his brother, and the two both stood
without a word and headed after West, not sure what he wanted with the
petite redhead that had caught Jeff’s eye, but curious to find out. It was
at that moment, while the Hardy brothers were deserting him, that Jericho
realized that he’d long since lost his captive audience, but, to his credit,
he didn’t complain, instead simply going with them, stumbling only slightly.
The trio was quickly joined by a confused Edge and Christian, making it
appear that the unsuspecting redhead was playing the role of pied piper to a
bunch of wrestlers as she headed outside into the night.

"Well, well, well." West finally spoke up once they were in the alley, his
voice nasty. "If it isn’t Rosenberg. All dressed up for Halloween, I see.
When do you plan to head back to Sunnydale and go back to the nerd gear you
usually wear?"

The redhead stiffened at the statement, and, for some reason, Matt found his
gaze being drawn to the small but intricate-looking cross tattoo at the
small of her back. He vaguely remembered hearing somewhere that that was
one of the most painful places for a tattoo - something about all the nerve
endings at the base of the spine. Of course, he’d been like fifteen when
he’d heard it, so he didn’t really remember anything for sure. He was so
caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed it when the redhead finally
did speak.

"You think you know me," she said as she turned around, unknowingly echoing
the music Edge and Christian walked out to. A small smirk curled her lips
as she continued. "But you don’t know me, Percy. You never have, and you
never will."

And with that, she walked away, climbing into a black convertible and riding
off with her friends, who had apparently taken a different exit than she had
in order to get the car. The six wrestlers stood there for a few minutes,
unsure of what to say, until the silence was broken by the incredulous voice
of Chris Jericho.

"Your first name is *Percy*?"

Part Two

"So what’s the what?" Willow Rosenberg asked as she burst into the offices
of Angel Investigations, her high-heeled boots click-clacking on the tile
floor. The redhead’s brooding boss was nowhere to be seen, but the office’s
secretary, Cordelia Chase, was sitting at her desk. Of course, she was
filing her nails rather than working, but hey, she was still actually at her
desk, which was a cause of surprise for Willow. "Didn’t you have a date
tonight?"

"Yes, I did," Cordelia replied, her voice sounding annoyed. Of course, that
was normal for the brunette, so Willow couldn’t tell if Cordy was really
angry or not. "At least, I had a date until our charming boss decided I
needed to cancel it. Apparently, the guy was evil or something. I didn’t
really pay attention when Angel explained it to me."

"Yeah, well, whatever this is about, it had better be good," Faith said as
she breezed in just steps behind Willow. "He dragged us away from Club
Hell."

"Club Hell?" Cordelia echoed incredulously. "You went to Club Hell without
inviting me?"

"Relax, Cordy. Faith’s just trying to get a rise out of you. We all know
she’s not allowed there anymore, what with her starting that fight last
time," Willow reminded the other girl.

"That was not my fault," Faith protested, barely blinking as Charles Gunn,
the guy she and Willow had been out with, entered the office.

"Faith, you knocked a guy unconscious and nearly started a riot," Willow
pointed out.

"Oh, yeah, you did do that," Cordy said thoughtfully. Since it had been
over a year ago, she had forgotten about the incident. "So where did you
guys go?"

"A few places. Nowhere that great," Gunn replied.

"Oh, but that the last place we were at, this guy was checking Wills out in
a major way," Faith piped up.

"He was not!" the redhead protested.

"Oh, please! Rainbow Boy was totally into you," Faith said before turning
to Cordelia and continuing in a conspiratorial voice. "He couldn’t take his
eyes off of her."

"Rainbow Boy?" Cordelia questioned.

"Faith’s description of his hair," Willow informed her.

"Then he’s no good. You already dated a guy who couldn’t decide on a hair
color. Remember Oz?"

"Like she could forget that slimeball," Faith replied before Willow could
speak. "But this guy’s completely different. Oz just went from color to
color. This guy’s going for several colors at once. And it actually works
on him."

"Are you forgetting that he was with Percy?" Willow asked, and the
expression on Cordelia’s face soured instantly.

"Percy? As in, Percy West?"

"The one and only."

"Then can I just say eww?"

"Who is this West guy, anyway?" Gunn asked, and all three women turned to
look at their friend. They’d completely forgotten that he was in the room
with them. After a moment, Cordelia spoke.

"That’s right, you wouldn’t know him. He graduated with Willow and me a
couple of years ago. To tell you the truth, the only reason Percy graduated
was because Willow tutored him."

"Which I was forced to do by Principal Snyder," Willow added. "Percy was a
major athlete, which is really the only reason anyone even gave a damn
whether he passed or not. Anyway, long story short, he was a complete jerk
for awhile, but then he decided to play nice. The last time I saw him was
about a year and a half ago, and I overheard him saying some pretty nasty
things about me. I guess he’s gone back to the direct approach: being rude
to my face."

"And Rainbow Guy was with him?" Cordelia questioned, her face showing her
distaste at the thought.

"They weren’t sitting together at the club," Faith pointed out, leaving
Willow to wonder just when her friend had noticed this mystery guy watching
her... If he had even really been watching her, that is.

"Yeah, but he was with him outside," the redhead reminded Faith. That was
when Willow had noticed the guy. To tell the truth, he was the only guy
besides Percy that she had even really noticed during the exchange with her
former classmate, though she knew there had been others there. There was
just something about this guy...

"But he was staring daggers at Percy," Faith stated. "I could tell that
much even from the car."

"Whatever. That still doesn’t mean the guy was even remotely interested in
me. I mean, look at me. I’m not all that noticeable," Willow said with a
sigh. Since moving to LA the previous fall, she had gained a lot of
self-confidence, but sometimes her old insecurities still came to the
surface. Sighing again, the redhead reached up and pulled the clip out of
her hair, knowing that it was starting to come loose. She ran her hand
through it in an effort to straighten it slightly, then gave up.

Gunn watched his pretty friend’s sad face, then studied her for a moment,
taking in her wide green eyes, porcelain-like skin, and wavy red hair that
fell a few inches beyond her shoulders. "I’m looking at you right now," he
told her. "And believe me, you are definitely noticeable."

"Especially in an outfit like that," their boss (who also happened to be the
person that Angel Investigations was named for) stated as he entered the
room. His gaze flicked from Willow to Faith, and his frown deepened as he
took in the brunette’s outfit. Faith’s shirt may have been long-sleeved,
but it was so sheer that he could clearly see the tattooed design that
circled her upper arm. "And that goes for both of you."

Faith merely snorted at the comment, more than used to Angel’s disapproval,
but the words raised Willow’s hackles. "And just what is wrong with what I
am wearing?" the redhead demanded.

"It has no back."

"Damn. I knew this outfit was missing something," Willow said
sarcastically, and Angel had to suppress a smile. In all honesty, he
thought the redhead looked beautiful, it was just that it was difficult for
him to reconcile the young woman before him with the shy girl he had met
five years before. There was still much about her that was the same, but
her appearance was definitely different.

"So, Angel, if you’re done complaining about the way Wills and I dress, why
don’t you tell us why you called us down to the office at one in the
morning?" Faith prompted.

"Well, you were supposed to be back by midnight."

"And why is that anyway? It’s not like there was some dire even that needed
our attention at exactly midnight."

"True. But it was my car that you were using, and I wanted it back by
midnight," Angel countered with a small smile.

"Aw, were you worried that we might mess up your baby?" Gunn asked as he
tossed the keys to his boss. "Well, don’t worry; your car is fine."

"And your car sure as hell better not be the reason I got dragged down
here," Cordelia warned.

"Remember that book we’ve been trying to get our hands on?" Angel asked.
When the others nodded, he continued. "Well, my contacts finally came
through with it, but someone has to go get it."

"Where is it?" Willow asked.

"In New York."

"Um, Angel, I’m thinking maybe you need to brush up on your geography,
‘cause New York is like a few thousand miles from LA," Faith stated.
"Haven’t these people ever heard of Fed Ex?"

"They won’t just hand it over to anyone, and it could easily fall into the
wrong hands if it were mailed to us," Angel told them.

"Whatever. So... refresh my memory," Faith said. "Is this book one of
those ‘how to hold the world hostage in ten easy steps’, or is it more of a
prophecies a la Nostradomus sort of thing?"

"A little of both, actually," Angel replied.

"Cool. So we get this thing, read up on the prophecies, then destroy the
parts about world domination."

"Something like that," her boss replied dryly. "But we have to get our
hands on it first."

"I’ll go," Cordelia piped up, and Willow knew that her friend was thinking
about all the great shopping she could do in New York.

"And what if you have a vision or something on the plane?" Gunn asked. "Or
anywhere, for that matter?"

"Well, Angel can go with me and protect me and stuff," the brunette replied.

"Um, Cordy, in case you’ve forgotten, Angel’s not exactly travel-friendly.
Remember? No shopping or going to Central Park or, well, anything during
the day..." Faith trailed off there, and Cordelia wrinkled her nose up in
distaste.

"Actually," Angel said after clearing his throat, "since I know Gunn is
afraid of flying, I was thinking that Faith and Willow should go. It’s
summer, so Willow doesn’t have any classes, and well, I’d really prefer it
if both of you went."

"Us? To New York? Without anyone else?" Faith questioned with a grin.

"Well, I thought about asking Wesley to go with you, but he’s still busy in
Sunnydale. I figured Willow could act as chaperone."

"This is so not fair," Cordelia said. "I can’t believe you two are going to
New York."

"This isn’t a pleasure trip, Cordy," Willow told her.

"But still..."

"When do we leave?" Faith asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon, which is why I wanted to talk to you tonight. I
thought it would give you more time to get ready."

"Speaking of, we probably ought to get back to our apartment and pack,"
Willow stated.

"And since my license is currently suspended, it’ll have to be Gunn who
takes you to the airport tomorrow. Well, that and it would be too
depressing to see you off, so I’ll go ahead and give you my advice right
now," Cordelia piped up. "Just remember, while you’re in New York, don’t do
anything I wouldn’t. Oh, and keep in mind that men are pigs, and sex is
bad."

"Actually, I tend to think of men as dogs," Willow told her with a smile as
she headed for the door, pulling her roommate with her. The two headed on
their way, laughing as they heard Cordelia’s parting comment.

"And don’t forget to buy me something!"

Part Three

"Well, tonight was certainly interesting," Jeff muttered as he stepped out
of the bathroom, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

"Interesting? You could say that, I guess. Your attention was definitely
caught by something," Matt replied mildly, shooting a look at his younger
brother.

Jeff shrugged, not even bothering to pretend he didn’t know what Matt was
talking about. "So I was eyeing a girl. It’s not like I haven’t done that
a bunch of times before," he said as he grabbed a pair of boxers and slipped
them on, letting his towel drop to the floor.

"True," the dark-haired Hardy said with a sigh. He waited a beat, then,
seeing that Jeff had no intention of picking the wet towel up off the floor,
reached down for it and tossed it back into the bathroom, where it landed in
the sink. Once that particular irritant was gone, he turned his attention
back to the matter at hand. "But usually when a woman catches your
attention, you at least *speak* to her."

"She left before I got a chance to talk to her," Jeff protested as he ran a
hand through his wet, brightly-colored hair.

"We followed her outside!"

"Give me a break. What exactly was I supposed to say to her at that point?
‘Hi. I know I’m standing here with the butthole who was just incredibly
rude to you, but I was wondering if you’d like to come back in the club and
dance with me.’ I’m sure that would have worked *really* well. She
probably would have laughed in my face, or kicked me or something. And
those boots had heels on them. Kicking could have been painful."

"Somehow, I really don’t see that happening. Although I bet she wanted to
kick Percy," Matt replied with a grin. The smile faded, however, when he
thought about the words that had been said to the young woman. "I just wish
I knew why Percy was such an ass to her."

"Yeah, he acted like a total jerk-off," Jeff agreed, his expression becoming
clouded. "Obviously he knows her, but it’s definitely not the kind of
situation where I can ask him to introduce me to her, you know?"

"You think? I don’t know. I thought they seemed like such good friends,"
Matt replied, his voice more than a bit sarcastic, which earned him a glare
from his brother. "I wonder what happened between those two..."

"Who knows? I’m not about to ask Percy about it, either," the younger Hardy
stated as he flopped down on his bed, lying on top of the covers. He turned
on his side so that he was facing his older brother, who was reclining on
the other bed. "Maybe Edge or Christian would know something. They were
hanging out with the guy."

Matt shook his head. "You saw the looks on their faces when Percy was
following that girl. They seemed just as confused by the situation as we
were," he said, getting a laugh from Jeff.

"Yeah, but that’s their natural state. Not exactly the sharpest knives in
the drawer."

"Sharpest knives in the drawer? Oh, God, you must be tired. You’re using
clichés."

"Oh, shut up, you jackass."

"So now I’m a jackass, huh? That’s really sweet. I’m so touched," Matt
said, laughing. He always enjoyed getting a rise out of his younger
brother. It was part of the fun of being the older sibling, and, truth be
told, he was pretty damn good at it. "And now I’m actually wishing you’d
had enough beer to get drunk, or at least buzzed. Unlike most people,
you’re actually *easier* to deal with when you’re plastered."

"Oh, that’s real nice. Great to know you think so highly of me-"

A snore from the far corner of the room interrupted Jeff’s words, and both
Hardys jumped in response, quickly turning towards the source of the noise.

"Speaking of drunks..." Jeff said, his voice amused as he took in the sight
of Chris Jericho sleeping on their couch.

"Damn," Matt muttered. "He was so quiet, I forgot he was even in here."

After leaving the club, the trio of Matt, Jeff, and Chris had headed back to
the hotel where they’d decided to just hang out for awhile. They’d all been
kind of tired, but they’d been too hyped to sleep, so they’d just sat around
talking and had ended up watching a rerun of SportsCenter on ESPN. At some
point (Matt really wasn’t sure what time it had been), Lita had called their
room, and sometime during the extended conversation Matt and Lita ending up
having, Jeff had decided to take a shower, which meant that Chris Jericho
had been left to his own devices.

And now Jericho was asleep on their couch.

"What do you think we should do with him?" Jeff asked. "I mean, do we wake
him up and send him to his room, or do we just leave him there?"

Matt shrugged. "Somehow, I think he’d be a pain if the butt if we woke him
now."

"He’s a pain in the butt all the time," Jeff reminded his brother, and Matt
snorted.

"Well, so are you, actually," the older Hardy replied as he stood up and
made his way over to Chris. He studied his friend for a moment. Y2J was
definitely asleep (the light snoring attested to that), but he was sitting
up, and his neck was at a really odd angle... "I guess we can leave him on
the couch for the night, but that position cannot be comfortable. Here,
help me move him," Matt said, and Jeff sighed before pushing himself up from
his very comfortable on his bed.

"Grab his legs," Matt said as his tag team partner made his way over, and
Jeff grinned as his brother leaned over their friend getting hold of the
man’s shoulders. It looked almost as if Matt was hugging the other man, and
Jeff couldn’t resist a dig at his older sibling.

"So, uh, Matt, are you sure there isn’t something you need to tell me?
About you and Chris, I mean?" he asked innocently, gesturing to the couch.

Matt glared at his brother. "Just move your ass and help me, okay?" The
younger Hardy laughed, then moved closer and helped his brother get Jericho
into position so that the man was actually lying down. Chris didn’t stir
during the entire process.

"Damn, he really is out of it."

"I think he just went off the good painkillers yesterday, and he drank a lot
tonight, so he’s probably not going to be all that with it for awhile."

Jeff nodded as he headed back to his bed, yanking the covers down and
climbing into bed. "Yeah, I imagine you’re right." Sighing, the younger
Hardy reached out for the alarm clock that was sitting on the table between
the two beds and looked over at his brother. The alarm clock actually
belonged to Matt - not all hotels had alarm clocks in the rooms - and the
brothers used it because they occasionally had the tendency to sleep through
their wake-up calls. "What time should I set it for?"

"Seven, I guess. I think we have to be at the airport at eight."

"Think that’s enough time for Jericho?"

"If it isn’t, he’ll just have to deal," Matt replied, and Jeff shrugged and
set the alarm.

"Works for me. Where are we going next, anyway? I can’t remember."

"New York."


Part Four

"I’m *so* going to kill Angel for this."

"Um, hate to break it to you Red, but he’s actually been dead for awhile,"
Faith replied as she and Willow continued on the task of negotiating their
way to the gate, cursing softly as the strap of her carry-on bag once again
began the journey off her shoulder. She jerked it back up and quickened her
pace, trying to keep up with the redhead.

"I can’t believe he did this to us. He said we were leaving this
afternoon..." Willow muttered with a shake of her head that sent her
ponytail bouncing. She was dressed more casually than the night before in
jeans, a white tank top, and boots. The ensemble included a leather jacket
as well, but she was forgoing wearing it for now, instead carrying the bulky
garment.

"Yeah, well, for once he was actually wrong. Deal with it," Faith said with
a shrug before reaching up check her hair. She’d used hair sticks (borrowed
from Willow) to put it up that morning, and the brunette wasn’t so sure it
was going to stay up. It just didn’t feel all that secure. "Look, I’m not
saying that I’m not pissed about this myself, but there’s really nothing we
can do about it right now."

"Since when are you the level-headed one?" Willow asked.

"Oh, God, I am being that, aren’t I? Maybe we woke up with switched
personalities or something this morning. Is this our gate?" she questioned
suddenly, and the redhead glanced at the piece of paper in her hand before
nodding.

"This is it."

The two young women had been awakened at six o’clock that morning by the
phone ringing, their boss on the other end, explaining that he had screwed
up. When he had called the airline, he could have gotten them on two
different flights, one in the morning or one in the afternoon, and well...
he’d booked one and had told them he booked the other. He hadn’t realized
his mistake until that morning, and that was why Willow and Faith were
currently hurrying through the airport and mentally maligning their boss’s
character. Gunn had dropped them off as promised, but, given the fact that
neither woman was really in the best of moods, had opted not to stay with
them while they waited for their flight.

"Well, see we still made it," Faith said. "And we can try to catch some
sleep on the plane. The flight’s what, five hours-"

"What the hell are you doing, Rosenberg? Following me?"

The voice came from directly behind the redhead, and Faith looked over her
friend’s shoulder to see Percy West standing behind her. Some blonde guy
that she was pretty sure had been at the club the night before was standing
a few feet away from him, but he was giving Percy an annoyed look, so Faith
figured he wouldn’t be any trouble. Quickly, the brunette’s eyes flicked
back to Willow, trying to discern just how the redhead was going to take
this unfortunate little surprise.

The redhead turned her gaze to the ceiling. "You really hate me, don’t
you?" she asked, speaking as if she were questioning a higher being.

Percy reached out and clamped a hand down on Willow’s shoulder. "Hey,
Rosenberg, look at me when-"

"Don’t you ever touch me!" Willow hissed as she whirled around, her carry-on
bag hitting Percy in the gut as it swung out in an arc. It hadn’t been a
planned move, but the redhead was pleased with it just the same.

"Damn it, you little bitch-"

"Okay, that’s it. I’m really not in the mood for this right now," Faith
said as she stepped between Percy and her friend, getting right in the man’s
face. She knew that Willow was capable of fighting her own battles, but she
just couldn’t help it. Percy was really pissing her off. And when Faith
got pissed off, she simply reacted. "If you know what’s good for you,
you’ll stay the hell away from her." She caught a movement just beyond
Percy, but she dismissed it as a potential danger when she realized that it
was just the blonde guy - who was actually kind of cute - moving closer to
Willow. He simply stood beside Willow, drinking some sort of soft drink,
but something in his expression told Faith that if he decided he was needed,
he would interfere, and it would be on her behalf. Of course, he had no
idea that the brunette wouldn’t be needing his help. She’d faced far worse
things than Percy West.

"Back off. This is between me and Rosenberg."

"No, it isn’t. You mess with Willow, you mess with me. And let me tell you
something, neither one of us are exactly easy targets. And why the hell do
you have such a problem with her anyway? Wait, don’t answer that, ‘cause I
don’t really care," she told him as she pulled the hair sticks out of her
hair, holding one of them in her fisted hand, almost as if she were
brandishing a weapon, which, given the nice sharp point at the end, they
kind of were. They had certainly been used as such before. "You see this,
Percy?" she asked, waving it in his face. When he nodded, she continued.
"Nice and sharp, isn’t it? Now, I’m going to put this as simply as possible
so you can comprehend
it. If you don’t leave Willow - and me, for that matter - the hell alone,
I’m going to see just how far I can shove this up your ass."

Percy’s eyes widened at the rather painful-sounding threat, and he stepped
backwards in surprise as a choking cough sounded behind Faith. The brunette
turned around to discover that the blonde guy, who had apparently taken a
drink just as she had voiced her threat, was in the middle of a coughing
fit.

Willow quickly reached out and pounded the man on the back, and, after a
moment, he managed to stop coughing. "You okay?" she asked, not really
feeling any malice towards this particular guy. Even though she was fairly
certain he had been with Percy the night before, he hadn’t actually
personally done anything to piss her off.

"Oh, yeah. Just dandy," Edge, who just happened to be the blonde guy who
had been standing there through all of this, replied, still trying to get
control of himself. Had that girl really said what he thought she had said?
He turned to look at the redhead, and she smiled slightly at him.

"Faith kind of has that effect on people," she explained.

"Does she generally make threats like that often?"

"Oh, no," she said, and Edge breathed a sigh of relief. Just a little too
soon, as it turned out. "Usually they’re far more graphic."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Matt Hardy made his way over to his younger brother, who was currently
sitting in an uncomfortable airport chair, his head leaned back against the
window and his eyes closed. Jeff had his headphones on, and the CD he was
listening to was turned up loud enough that Matt could hear the garbled
words, but he couldn’t quite tell what it was his younger brother was
listening to.

"Hey, turn that crap down for a minute."

"Leave me alone," Jeff grumbled, opening one eye. He quickly shut it again,
swearing softly when his brother sat down beside him. The gate area they
were in was mostly empty, only fellow wrestlers and a few corporate-types
going to New York for business were there, and Jeff had hoped for a little
time to himself before boarding the plane. Now, however, the plan seemed to
be off since Matt didn’t appear to be leaving any time soon. Sighing, the
younger Hardy gave in, shutting off his music as he opened his eyes and
lifted his head, looking around him. Several of the wrestlers had actually
left for New York the night before, so only about a dozen or so guys were,
along with Lita and Chyna. "Couldn’t you bother one of them instead?" he
asked, nodding in the general direction of the other wrestlers.

"Yeah, but somehow I don’t think they’d really care about what I have to
say."

"Oh, and what would make it so interesting to me?"

"Well, it’s about your redhead. She’s here, and, unless I’m mistaken, she’s
on her way to New York. On the same flight we’re on."

Part Five

He was sitting with her.

He didn’t know how it had been arranged, but Jeff figured he probably had
his brother to thank for it (or kill for it, depending on how things went.)
Of course, with the way things were going at the moment, he was leaning
towards killing. And he may have to kill the dark-haired girl who was
friends with Willow (yes, he’d finally discovered the redhead’s name -
they’d introduced themselves when they had found themselves sitting
together) as well.

Not that it was really their fault or anything. It was his - he just
couldn’t think of what to say to her, and he didn’t know why. He’d never
had trouble talking to women before. But now, he was finding it so damn
difficult... Maybe it was the situation. Last night, they were at the club,
and if he’d managed to talk to her then, then any conversation would have
only been half-heard as they were out on the dance floor, moving in time to
the beat. Now, they were sitting in what seemed to be an almost-silent
airplane, and he just knew that his nosy brother, who was sitting just in
front of them with Lita, would be trying to listen in.

Jeff hated it when people tried to eavesdrop on him. But still, this could
be his only chance...

"So, um, what are you going to New York for?" he asked, hoping that New York
was really where they were headed. That was what Matt had told him last
night, wasn’t it?

Willow looked over at the sound of the voice, which carried a pleasant
southern accent that was as undeniably attractive as the man himself.
"Business, I guess," she replied. She’d been prepared to kill Faith when
her friend had somehow found a way to get her sitting with Jeff, but now she
wasn’t so sure. Jeff was actually talking to her, so maybe he had been
eyeing her at the club the night before. But then again, he could just be
trying to be polite by starting a conversation...

"Business, huh? Do you mind if I ask what kind of business?" he questioned,
taking in her appearance. She looked young, maybe even a year or so younger
than he was, and her outfit didn’t exactly scream ‘I’m on business.’

Willow thought for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to say this.
"I guess you could say I’m on an errand for my boss. He’s a private
investigator, and the people were dealing with right now don’t exactly
believe in using UPS, and well..."

"They’re really important people, so you do what they ask."

"Yeah," the redhead said with a nod, wondering what Jeff would say if he
realized that the ‘important people’ were Druid monks.

Jeff nodded, not sure what to say next. It was then that he realized that
part of why he hadn’t felt uncomfortable at the start of this conversation
was because of what he had seen the night before. He was avoiding it,
unsure of how she would react to his bringing it up, but he knew it was
probably on both of their minds. Percy wasn’t all that far away from them,
only a few rows up and across the aisle - and he was studiously ignoring
them both - but that didn’t change the fact that he was there. And Jeff had
seen Willow glance at the guy once or twice.

"What is it between you and Percy, anyway?" he asked suddenly, and he saw a
little flash of surprise cross Willow’s face before, she settled back in her
seat, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"We went to high school together, and we didn't exactly get along. He was a
jock, and I was one of the smarts kids. A nerd, I guess."

Jeff laughed softly. "Somehow, I don’t see *nerd* when I look at you."

The slender redhead smiled and shook her head. "Well, I didn’t look quite
like this in high school." She wrinkled her nose as she thought about that
statement, then shrugged. "I guess I really did look like this. I just hid
it. I dressed differently, and I was shy, and I... I just never really
stood up for myself. Basically, I was a wimp, which made me an easy target
for the likes of Percy."

"So he pretty much picked on you at every chance he got."

"No, actually, he tended to ignore me... That is, he ignored me until I
ended up getting assigned to tutor him. Suffice it to say we didn’t get
along."

"He bullied you," Jeff guessed.

A small smile curled Willow’s lips. "Only until I humiliated him. I guess
you could say he ended up getting knocked on his ass. It caused, um, a
distinct change in his personality."

"Until last night, I’m guessing."

"Yeah," the redhead replied, then smiled, thinking of Faith’s threat. "But
somehow, I don’t think he’ll be bothering me again any time soon."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Faith sighed softly as she turned her attention away from the magazine she
was reading at looked over at the blonde man beside her. "Are they
talking?"

Edge jumped slightly at the unexpected voice, and he closed the book he was
reading, careful to mark his place. The young woman beside him made him a
little uncomfortable, but hey, he imagined most men would be uncomfortable
around a woman who went around threatening to shove hair accessories up
people’s asses. Especially if they actually believed the woman meant it.
And seemed to be capable of it. "Is who talking?" he asked cautiously, not
sure what she was talking about.

Faith sighed in exasperation. "My friend and Hair Boy... Jeff, or whatever
his name is. I would check for myself, but I can’t exactly see around you,
you know?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," Edge said, half-turning in his seat. The first thing he saw
was Chris Jericho and Christian sitting across the aisle from him, both of
them asleep, Lita and Matt in the seats behind the two men, apparently
having a debate of some sort. Edge couldn’t tell what it was about because
they were keeping there voices down, but they were both definitely into it.
And then there were Jeff and the redhead - her name was Willow, wasn’t it?

"Oh, yeah, they’re talking," Edge said with a grin as he turned back to face
the brunette. "Definitely deep in conversation and all that."

Faith smiled, glad her friend was taking the chance and talking to this guy.
Ever since Oz had walked out on her - the stupid bastard - Willow had
basically avoided spending time around guys she was attracted to, and Faith
was certain that Willow was attracted to this Jeff guy. Which, of course,
was why Faith had talked to Edge, found out that Jeff had an older brother
named Matt, then approached Matt and asked him to help her make sure Willow
and Jeff ended up sitting together during the flight. She knew Willow had
been annoyed with her for it at first, but hey, they were talking now,
weren’t they?

And who knew what could happen in five hours?

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

They talked during the entire flight. It seemed that once they got started,
they couldn’t stop. They talked about music, books, wrestling, Jeff even
listened when Willow started talking about computers... whatever came to
them, they discussed it.

"Damn, I can’t believe this flight’s almost over," Jeff muttered as the
pilot come over the intercom, telling them that they would be landing in New
York City in just a few minutes.

"It certainly didn’t seem like five hours," Willow agreed, feeling a little
disappointed that it was over. Once they got off the plane, they would be
going in separate directions. Two different hotels, two different reasons
for being in New York. They’d probably never see each other again...

"Do you want to have lunch with me tomorrow?"

Or maybe they would.

Part Six

"So, Red, do I need to duck and cover, or are you okay with what I pulled?"

"Then it was you," Willow said, glancing over at her friend with an amused
look on her face.

"I did have some help," Faith admitted with a shrug as she flung her bag on
one of the beds in the hotel room. She had waited until they’d made it to
where they were staying to broach the subject, wanting to have at least some
privacy so she could pump the redhead for information. "But, yeah, it was
me. So are you pissed or what?"

Willow shrugged. "I should be pissed. I mean, you did interfere in my
life, and that’s pretty much a no-no."

"But you’re not mad at me," Faith supplied, knowing from the look on her
friend’s face that what she said was true.

"Not this time. But if you ever try it again..."

"I’m toast?"

"That would be putting it mildly."

"Duly noted. So, since I risked my potential well-being and all for this,
I’m thinking maybe you owe me some details," the brunette wheedled, glad
Wills wasn’t pissed off at her. It would have made for a lousy trip if she
had been.

"Faith, it was just a plane ride. Jeff and I talked; we didn’t run off and
have sex in the bathroom."

"Now that’s something I would have paid to see," the brunette said with a
grin, earning herself a half-hearted glare from her friend. "What? I’m
just being honest here. You and Angel are always on my ass about the
honesty thing, don’t get pissed when I try it out. Anyway... are you ever
going to see Rainbow Boy again, or was my attempt at matchmaking a complete
bust?"

"Tomorrow."

"You’ll be seeing him tomorrow? Really? And what’s the plan?"

"We’re keeping it simple. I’m meeting him at his hotel..."

"His room?" Faith interrupted, her eyes flashing. Willow’s
sex-in-the-bathroom comment aside, if this guy actually tried anything...

"The front lobby," Willow replied, giving her friend a look. "We’re just
doing the lunch thing. We’re planning to go to some little place near the
hotel... whatever it is we happen to be in the mood for. If we decide to do
anything after that, it’ll be one of those ‘play-it-by-ear’ things."

"And if something does happens?" Faith asked.

"Then it’s my own damn business. Remember, I’m all grown up now," the
redhead said. "I can handle myself."

The brunette studied her friend for a moment, then flipped on the television
as she flopped on her bed, trying to appear nonchalant as she began
channel-surfing. "So, uh, you really do like this guy, don’t you?"

"I hardly know him," Willow told the other girl as she sat on her own bed.
"I mean, sure, we talked during pretty much the whole flight, but five hours
is just that: five hours."

"Yeah, but..."

"Look, here’s the deal. Jeff’s really, *really* good-looking, and he’s
nice, and he’s funny, and dear Lord, I never realized how sexy a southern
accent can be..."

"Oh, yeah. You like him," Faith said in a decisive tone as she found MTV,
then quickly moved on. Damn Britney Spears video. "You really have a thing
when it comes to this guy."

"Maybe I do," the redhead admitted before deciding once and for all that it
was time to change the subject. "What about you, though? I saw that guy
you were sitting with, and he wasn’t so bad himself."

"His name’s Edge," Faith replied as she found ESPN, which was airing a
baseball game. "I think he’s afraid of me."

"And I wonder why that could be?" Willow mused with a smile, thinking of the
threat Faith had made towards Percy. Edge had been standing right there
when it happened...

"Hey, I’m completely harmless," the brunette protested. "I wouldn’t hurt a
fly."

"Very good. I actually almost believed you," the redhead said, acting as if
she were assessing a performance by her friend. "But next time, you should
try it on someone who doesn’t know you."

"Cute."

"I thought so. So, no sparkage with this Edge guy at all?"

"Nope. I mean, he is a hottie, and his smile... Well, actually, his smile
is the problem. It just screams ‘I’m a player.’ Which probably means he’d
be perfect for me," Faith went on, her voice self-deprecating. "That’s my
style, isn’t it? You know, jumping from bed to bed..."

"You don’t do that anymore, Faith."

"But I used to," the brunette protested as she sat up and turned to face
Willow. "I started acting that way when I was fifteen years old, Red. I
was Faith, the girl you saw when you wanted a good time. I was the town
slut."

"Maybe. But the operative word is ‘was.’ You don’t act that way anymore.
You don’t do that, and we both know it. You’ve changed over the past year
or so Faith, and you’re a good person."

Faith sighed softly, briefly wondering why she had brought this whole thing
up. Maybe it was because she still thought of herself as the same girl she
had been four years ago, and she needed the reassurance that she wasn’t; the
reassurance that she had changed... "Thanks. For saying that. And before
you go any further, I know you mean it. And that makes it mean more. And
holy God, when did this conversation get so friggin’ deep? We’re supposed
to be having fun here!"

"Actually, we’re supposed to be retrieving a book that holds the secrets to
world domination."

Faith shrugged. "Same thing. Hmmm... I wonder what the boss would think of
you making nice with Rainbow Boy while we’re on a mission."

"What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. It’s no big deal, anyway. Tomorrow
morning we go, get the damn book, then you can... do whatever while I go out
with Jeff. Then, under the pretense of taking longer than expected to get
the book, we’ll stay here a few days, do some sightseeing, and buy Cordelia
something so she doesn’t bitch at us when we get back, and our boss won’t be
any the wiser. Besides, Angel’s all the way in LA. What could he do about
it even if he did know?"

"Not a damn thing," the other girl said as she laid back on her bed. She
glanced around the hotel room, really taking in the surroundings for the
first time. The room was huge, with two king-sized beds, a couch, even one
of those little bars... Not the type of place Faith was used to staying in,
and by far the nicest hotel room she had ever seen. "Of course, he could
pull the plug on the payment for this place."

"He’s not paying for it."

"Then who the hell is? I know you’ve got cash from all that freelance
computer stuff you do, but you didn’t..."

"Nope. Not me, either. My parents."

"Your parents? How’d you managed that?"

"Credit card. I use it; they pay the bill. Actually, I’ve never really
used it before. First time for everything I guess. I figure since they
forgot my twentieth birthday, and never did get me a graduation gift back in
high school... they may as well foot the bill for this little adventure.
They’re even paying for the tickets home. Angel paid for the ones to get
here."

"And what are you’re parents going to say when they get this bill?"

"Like I really care. Maybe it will actually remind them that they have a
daughter."

Faith opened her mouth to reply to this, only to be interrupted by the sound
of Willow’s purse ringing. Well, the cell phone in her purse. "I thought
you turned that thing off this morning."

"I did; I turned it back on in the cab," the redhead replied, pulling the
phone out of her purse and hitting the ‘talk’ button. "I’m here... Yeah, we
just got in a little bit ago... We’ve got the info... You can just call us
here if you need to; Faith’s got her cell phone, and well, we’re talking on
mine right now, so I’ve obviously got it with me... we’ll keep you posted.
Okay. ‘Bye."

"Angel?" Faith asked as Willow hung up.

"Yeah. Worried that we didn’t have the address of where to go and all that.
Oh, and I could hear Cordelia in the background, whining about how she
didn’t get to come with us," the redhead finished, causing Faith to sigh.

"We’re really going to have to get her something good, aren’t we?"

Part Seven

Willow flipped her hair back over her shoulder as she made her way down the
busy sidewalk, studiously ignoring the looks she was getting. She was
dressed simply wearing a red tank top and a patterned skirt, but guys’ eyes
still seemed to be homing in on her neckline. Living in LA, she had gotten
used to the looks, but comments still managed to piss her off on occasion.
She smiled slightly at the thought. Oh, yeah... some of those guys who
pissed her off had ended up with a knee to the groin, which had admittedly
been fun. Well, fun for her, anyway.

Realizing that she looked stupid wandering down the street with a smile on
her face, Willow shook her head and cleared her expression, concentrating on
finding her friend, who was supposed to meet her in exactly - Willow checked
her watch - five minutes so they could get this little mission done.

And Faith was already waiting for her.

Well, maybe not waiting for her. The brunette was standing outside of their
hotel, a lollipop in her mouth. She was staring at the teenage son - the
guy was maybe sixteen or seventeen - of some rich couple, and, as Willow
watched in bemusement, Faith slowly drew the lollipop out of her mouth, then
licked it seductively before sucking it back into her mouth with an audible
slurp. Shaking her head in a mixture of amusement and exasperation at her
friend’s antics, Willow walked up behind the other girl.

"Well, you just gave him one hell of a boner," she said, and Faith jumped in
surprise before turning around.

"What? Please. I’m just having some fun. Giving the kid a little thrill,
being bad little me and all that. No touching, though," the brunette
finished helpfully. In reality, she hadn’t been planning on doing that to
the kid. It was just that she’d seen him staring at her, and, well, even
though she was *trying* to be good, she just couldn’t help teasing the kid a
little. It was in her nature. Besides, who knew that a guy could find a
watching a girl suck on a lollipop so erotic? Well, given her previous
experiences, Faith did, for one. It had very little to do with the damn
lollipop, and just about everything to do with the guy imagining the girl’s
lips somewhere else.

"Yeah, I could see that," Willow replied, rolling her eyes at her friend.
"God, I can’t take you anywhere, can I?"

"Oh, come on, Red. You know you love it. Living vicariously through me and
all that crap."

"Oh, yeah, right. Just don’t pull that on the Druid monks, okay? I don’t
think they’d appreciate it."

Faith laughed as she quickened her pace to catch up with her friend. "Now
that... that would be fun times..."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Matt tossed the newspaper he had bought on the bed, then glanced over at his
brother, who was currently watching a rerun of Scooby Doo on the Cartoon
Network. "I ran into Jericho in the hall. He’s eating lunch with Edge and
Christian, and they invited us to join them."

"Then at least you’ll have some company today," Jeff replied. "I’ve got
plans, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, right. Lunch with Willow. Sorry, I forgot about that. How long
do you think you’ll be?"

The younger Hardy shrugged. "A few hours, I guess. We’re just eating, then
hanging out for awhile."

"Well, don’t forget-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Public appearance tonight. It’s at what, seven? I’m
meeting Willow in the lobby at noon... I think I can handle getting back
here and ready to go... wherever it is we’re supposed to be going on time.
Don’t worry so much, big brother. I’ll be there with bells on."

"God, I hope you don’t mean that literally," Matt muttered. Of course, with
his little brother, one could never be sure...

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Faith shifted from foot to foot as she and Willow stood in the new age store
that the Druid monks ran. Given her lack of diplomacy and general dislike
of authority, the brunette was letting the redhead do all of the talking for
them. The monk was asking all sorts of questions about their work, and he
was also asking about things that Faith had no clue about. Thankfully,
Willow knew what she was talking about. Or, at least, she seemed to.

Sighing, the brunette wandered away from the front counter where Willow and
the monk were currently speaking to each other in French and began browsing
the aisles. There were plenty of things to look at: small sculptures,
crystals, figurines of fantastical creatures. Faith cocked her head as she
spied a little unicorn figurine - when she was little, she’d always loved
unicorns - and she carefully reached out to touch it, running a finger over
the smooth glass. So absorbed with her browsing was she, that she almost
jumped out of her skin when a voice sounded behind her.

"And we’re out of here!" Willow said, and Faith turned around to find her
friend looking slightly frustrated, but still smiling, which had to mean
that the mission had been a success. The brunette promptly smiled back,
giving the unicorn one last look before following her friend back outside
the store.

"I take it we got what we came here for?" the brunette inquired as she fell
into step beside Willow.

"Yeah, we did," the redhead replied. "And I’d like to thank you so much for
all your help in there. Couldn’t have done it without you. Oh, wait. I
did."

"Hey, you’re the one who’s all good with the authority figures and stuff. I
don’t do the talking thing. At least, not well. You can smile and say the
right thing and all that crap. I don’t do that. I lean more towards
violence... I’ve discovered that you get faster results that way."

Willow nodded solemnly. "You also get jail time that way."

"Whatever. Look, Red, we both know that you’re the brains, and I’m the
brawn. That’s the way things work, which is why I kept my distance. Now,
if you’d have wanted me to beat that guy up back there..."

"It probably would have made for a less annoying encounter," the redhead
muttered, then winced slightly, sending her friend a sideways glance. "I
actually said that out loud, didn’t I?"

"That you did. And here I thought you were supposed to be the sweet,
well-behaved one."

"Well, compared to you, I am."

"Why thank you so much," Faith replied, then decided to change the subject.
"What time are you supposed to meet Jeff?"

Willow quickly consulted her watch. "In about twenty minutes, which means I
should probably get my ass in gear unless I want to be late... Which I
don’t. What are you going to do while I’m gone?"

"Oh, thought I’d find a few unsuspecting people and beat the hell out of
them."

"Very funny. See how I’m not laughing. For real, Faith."

"I thought I’d head back to the hotel, maybe check out room service. Watch
some dirty movie on cable... I figure when you get back we can go shopping
and stuff."

"Works for me," the redhead replied as she discreetly slipped the book she
and Faith had been sent to New York to retrieve out of the side pocket of
her purse and handed it to the other girl. "I guess you should be the one
to take care of this, since I’m going to be out and about this afternoon."

"Cool," the brunette said, taking the book and glancing down at it. It
certainly seemed small and harmless, but Faith knew that it could be the
cause of some very bad things if someone else got hold of it. "I’ll stash
it somewhere, keep it safe. You have fun with Rainbow Boy."

"I intend to," the redhead stated as she began to head off in the direction
of Jeff’s hotel.

"Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!" Faith called after her, and Willow turned
to grin at her.

"And what exactly would that be ruling out?" she asked innocently before
going on her way.

Faith watched her friend walk away for a moment, then turned and headed back
towards their hotel, slipping the thin volume she held inside her jacket as
she did so.

She needed to find a safe place to hide this thing.


Part Eight

"I just think it would be scary, you know, getting in that ring in front of
all those people."

"Sometimes it can be, with all the crazy stuff that happens out there, but
with the crowd yelling and screaming and everything, it’s just... Wow. I
mean, the crowds are amazing."

"And, you see, that’s probably what I would find the scariest. The crowds,"
Willow told Jeff before taking a sip of the drink they were sharing.

"Stage fright?" he asked, smiling down at her.

"The worst," the redhead confirmed with a nod of her head. "Back in high
school, I would actually start shaking just giving a presentation to the
class. It was so embarrassing."

"And now?" Jeff asked, pausing as they reached a curb. Having already eaten
at a small cafe several blocks away, he and Willow were now wandering around
and talking, simply enjoying each other’s company.

Willow cocked her head to the side thoughtfully as the ‘walk’ sign flashed
and she and Jeff began making their way across the street. "Not so bad, I
guess. I mean, I think big crowds would probably still get me. Since I
work for a private investigator, I think I’m actually pretty good at
performing in front of small groups now. That’s what going undercover is,
isn’t it? I know I’m out there to get information or whatever, but I’m
still playing a role and everything."

"You do undercover stuff for this guy you work for?" Jeff asked, pretty sure
he didn’t like the idea of that. Couldn’t that be really dangerous? Of
course, given the fact that he jumped off the top rope and occasionally
ended up going through tables for a living, he didn’t really have much room
to talk when it came to danger, but still, that was different... No one he
got into the ring with was going to pull out a gun and shoot him. Well, he
was pretty sure they weren’t, anyway. In Willow’s line of work, however, it
was a completely different story.

"Just small stuff, mostly," Willow assured him, fully aware of the basic
train of thought his mind had hopped on. "I pose as a reporter for some
newspaper or something, some of it is even done over the phone. You’d be
amazed how much people are willing to talk to strangers who call them. One
woman kept me on the line for an hour talking about what a slime her
ex-boyfriend was."

"And let me guess... The ex-boyfriend was your client?" Jeff said as he
accepted the drink from Willow and took a gulp of it.

"Score one for the wrestler," the redhead replied.

"Is that the kind of stuff you usually handle?"

Willow wrinkled her nose, pretending to consider his question. Truth was,
the feuding exes stuff was far from normal fare at Angel Investigations,
although they had taken on more of it recently. However, they still
generally handled the supernatural stuff, and she really didn’t see how she
could explain that to Jeff... but she didn’t want to lie to him. "We handle
some stuff like that, but not a ton. We do missing persons and the like...
lots of people don’t trust the cops to handle that on their own; they want
as many people as possible looking for their loved ones, especially if it’s
kids. And sometimes part of what we do is simply trying to keep stuff from
falling into the wrong hands."

"What kind of case are you on now? Or should I not ask that?" Jeff
questioned. He had to admit, he was fascinated by the type of work Willow
did, even if it was a bit dangerous.

"Faith and I are just here to pick up some information," Willow said with a
shrug. She could see Jeff’s hotel just up the street, and she knew that
their afternoon together was probably coming to a close, which saddened her
slightly. She’d been having so much fun, she didn’t really want the day to
end. "Nothing too dangerous."

"Is a lot of stuff you do dangerous?"

"It can be," Willow said, thinking of her life back in Sunnydale, as well as
the year she had spent in Los Angeles. Boy, could it be. "I admit, there
are times I’ve been scared half to death. But I like helping people... so
this is what I do. And sometimes I do get the easy stuff. Take this little
trip, for instance. Faith and I have already gotten what we came here for,
so we have the next few days to have a little mini-vacation. You know,
explore New York, maybe visit Central Park or the Statue of Liberty."

"Any concrete plans?" Jeff asked, knowing that the WWF was going to be in
the New York area for a few more days. Tomorrow night’s SmackDown was
somewhere on Long Island, Heat was going to be in New Jersey, and wasn’t RAW
supposed to be at Madison Square Garden?

"Nothing really planned. Just some vague ideas."

"Great. ‘Cause I was thinking that we could-"

Jeff’s statement was cut off, and a muffled scream erupted from Willow’s
throat as the pair was suddenly yanked into the alley next to Jeff’s hotel.
They were both shoved roughly against the brick wall of the building, and
Willow winced as the pain raced up her back. Oh, this was so not good.
Getting mugged was definitely not the way to end a first date.

Of course, this wasn’t exactly an average mugging.

"Where’s the book?" one of the men holding Jeff barked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jeff asked, as he struggled to free
himself from his attackers’ grasp. Given the fact that there were two of
them, and each one was bigger than he was, the younger Hardy wasn’t having
much success.

"Not him," an annoyed voice said from the back of the alley, and both Willow
and Jeff strained to see who was talking. "The girl."

The man holding Willow glared down at her. "Where is it?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," she lied, kicking out at him, but
to no avail. He just gripped her tighter, his hand easing over her throat
and squeezing.

"Get your hands off of her!" Jeff yelled, only to be silenced by a sharp
blow to the head that left him a bit dazed. Damn, that bastard had a mean
right hook.

"Don’t lie, little girl," the unseen man said as he stepped closer.
However, given the bulk of the man holding her, Willow still couldn’t see
him. "I saw you at that shop. You talked to the shopkeeper. And before
the man died, he told us you had it."

"Well, I don’t. It’s not here," Willow said, trying to hold in her shock.
They had killed the shopkeeper? Oh, God what else would they be willing to
do? And what would happen if they actually got their hands on what they
were after?

"Then where is it?" he asked.

"I don’t know," Willow managed. And it was the truth. She had no idea what
Faith had done with the book.

"Does your friend have it? The girl with the dark hair?" the man asked, his
voice suddenly silky. At the look on Willow’s face, he smiled and nodded.
"I take it she does. I wonder how she’d feel about a trade? Take them."
And with that, he turned and headed deeper into the alley.

Almost as soon as the ominous words were out, Willow felt a cloth pressed
over her nose and mouth, and she struggled to hold her breath, knowing that
the rag was soaked in chloroform, knowing that she was fighting a losing
battle. The redhead could hear Jeff struggling against his captors, and the
damning thought that Jeff would have never been put in this situation if it
hadn’t been for her swam into her mind. She tried to keep the tears from
filling her eyes as the images around her blurred and she began to give into
the drug that she was being forced to breathe, her thoughts running together
incoherently and the dizziness setting in...

And then, everything faded to black.

Part Nine

Faith sat on the couch in the hotel room she was sharing with Willow, her
eyes on the clock.

8:30.

Not late, per se, but far later than she had expected her redheaded friend
to be. A first date couldn’t last over eight hours, could it? No, it
couldn’t - or, at least, it shouldn’t - especially not when the fact that
she and Willow had plans to do something that day was considered.

Sighing, Faith reached for the remote and turned the television off, not at
all happy with the situation. This wasn’t like Willow. Willow, if given
the chance, would have called to tell her that she’d be late. And she
should have had the chance. She did, after all, have her cell phone with
her.

"Damn it," the brunette muttered. "What in the hell am I supposed to do
now? If I go and look for her, and nothing’s wrong, she’ll just get pissed
off at me. But if I don’t and something is wrong, then... Screw it. I’m
going."

Quickly, Faith got up off the couch and headed for the door. When she had
her hand on the knob, however, she stopped and looked back at the desk where
she had stashed the book she and Willow had been sent to New York to get.
She bit her lip in indecision for a moment, then went over to the desk and
grabbed it, slipping the thin volume inside the light denim jacket she was
wearing. The brunette then grabbed her cell phone - just in case Wills did
decide to call - then went back to the door. The redhead had told her the
name of the hotel that Jeff was staying at, so she at least had an idea of
where to begin her search.

With one last backward glance at their room, Faith stepped out into the hall
to go in search of Willow.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Matt Hardy sat on his bed trying to decide whether he should be completely
pissed off at his younger brother, or just worried. Jeff should have been
back hours ago, and, while his little brother could be a bit forgetful, he
was always pretty damn careful about making sure he didn’t miss any public
appearances.

Which was exactly what he was doing now.

Thankfully, Matt had realized what was going to happen in time, and he had
called the necessary people and managed to convince them that Jeff had a
terrible case of food poisoning (who knew Lita was so good at making
retching noises?) and that he had better stay with him. He’d felt so guilty
lying to the woman he spoke to - she sounded so concerned about Jeff’s
welfare - but he hadn’t really seen another option. If they missed an
appearance without a good reason, they’d be in big trouble. Anyway, the
Dudley Boyz had been nice enough to go and cover for the Hardy Boyz, and
Matt just hoped the fans weren’t too pissed off about it. Maybe Buh-Buh Ray
could put someone through a table or something... the fans always seemed to
love that.

"Come on, little brother, where the hell are you?" the elder Hardy muttered.
"’Cause I’m really dying to get my hands on you so I can kill you right
about now."

But what if something really was wrong?

The little, naggingly persistent voice made it’s way into Matt’s head for
what had to be the millionth time that night, and the older of the two Hardy
brothers sighed softly as he glanced at the clock. Their public appearance
had been supposed to begin almost two hours ago. Was it possible that Jeff
was really that late? Well, maybe, but that really wasn’t all that likely.
What was more likely was that something had held him up... or maybe
something was wrong.

Sighing, Matt pushed himself to his feet, grabbed his key card, and headed
out the door to look for his brother. And if Jeff didn’t have a damn good
explanation for this, he was going to kill him.

Quickly, Matt made his way to the stairs, deciding it was better to use them
than to take the chance of running into someone in the elevator. He really
didn’t feel like explaining to one of the other wrestlers why he and Jeff
weren’t where they were supposed to be.

As Matt came to the first floor, he raked his hand through his dark hair,
reached for the door that would let him into the lobby, and... almost ran
into Willow’s brunette friend.

"You haven’t seen them either, have you?"

"What?" Matt asked, slightly surprised by the girl’s direct question. She
definitely wasn’t one for pleasantries.

"Willow and Jeff. They aren’t here, are they?"

"I imagine you already know the answer to that one."

"Damn it!" Faith said, her voice quiet but still forceful. "They should
have been back by now. Willow and I had plans."

"And Jeff and I had a public appearance to make about two hours ago," Matt
put in.

"And you’re just now going to look for him?"

"What about you? I doubt you’ve been looking very long either."

Faith shrugged. "Wills and I didn’t have any concrete time for our plans...
We just had plans." Sighing, the brunette ran a hand through her hair.
"Damn it. I can’t believe this is happening."

Matt cocked his head to the side as he studied the young woman before him.
"You think something’s wrong, don’t you? Why?"

Faith thought for a moment, her mind going through all that she, Willow, and
the others had been through in the past few years. It wasn’t exactly
something she could share with a guy she barely knew. "Let’s just say I
have a tendency to prepare for the worst. That way, if things don’t
completely suck, then I get a pleasant surprise."

"That’s a way to think about it."

"Look, Matt," Faith began, giving him a glance as if she was trying to
determine whether or not she had called him by the correct name, "I know
that whatever they were doing was supposed to be around here. That means we
should probably start our search in this area."

"Should we call somebody?" Matt asked, concerned by the absolute seriousness
in the young woman’s voice. It was almost as if she expected something to
be terribly wrong. "Security maybe... or even the police?"

"Can’t do that. Cops don’t care unless the people have been missing for
twenty-four hours. I say we head out, search in and around the hotel, that
kind of stuff," Faith said as she began heading for the door that led
outside, Matt following her without even thinking about it. "First, we
should probably check around the building, see if we can find anything."
She nodded to the left. "You go that way, I’ll head in the opposite
direction, and we’ll meet in the back of the hotel." Matt barely had time
to nod his assent before Faith turned and went on her way.

The young woman quickly made her way around the building, biting her lip
nervously as she searched for a clue that meant Willow had been there.
Geez... what was Angel going to say if she had to call him and say that she
had lost Willow? What would he do? And, for that matter, what the hell was
she going to do if something had happened to her best friend?

"Damn it, Faith, get a grip," she muttered to herself.

She had hardly managed to get the words out when a side door that opened
into the alley swung out, smacking full force right into her forehead.

She didn’t even have time to swear before she fell to the ground,
unconscious.

Part Ten

Christian’s mouth dropped open in surprise when he heard the thud, and he
pushed past his brother and ran out the door, dropping to his knees beside
the unconscious young woman. He quickly checked the already-forming bump on
her forehead, then looked up to glare at Edge.

"You hit her with the door," he said accusingly.

"I didn’t mean to! It was an accident! How was I even supposed to know she
was out here? This is an alley, for Christ’s sake!" the blonde Canadian
exclaimed as he rushed out the door and joined his brother in kneeling next
to the fallen young woman, whom he immediately recognized as Faith, the girl
he had sat next to on the plane ride to New York.

The pair (well, trio, actually, although one of them was out cold at the
moment) was quickly joined by Chris Jericho, who dropped to his knees on the
other side of the brunette. "Should we go get some help? I mean... she’s
unconscious. You must have hit her pretty hard."

"It was an accident!" Edge protested again, glancing at the offending door.
Maybe he shouldn’t have opened it so damn forcefully. But it had seemed to
be sticking, so... "Besides, it’s a heavy door. Maybe I didn’t hit her
*that* hard... it was just ‘cause the door’s so heavy..."

"Shut up, you two," Christian instructed them, his eyes on Faith’s face.
"She’s coming around."

"Oh, damn," Faith moaned as she began to come to. She cautiously opened her
eyes, wincing at the pain in her skull. Her vision wasn’t exactly clear
yet, and all she could see were three blonde human-looking blobs hovering
over her.

"Are you okay?" One of the blobs - it seemed to be the middle blob - asked
her in a voice laced with concern.

"Yeah, just dandy," she muttered. "Except for the fact that I think I’m
seeing triple."

"Triple? Oh man, that can’t be... Hey, there are three of us," Edge told
her.

Faith blinked a few times, waiting for sight before her to lose the blurry,
underwater quality it had going for it. After a moment, it did, and she was
able to see that the three blonde blobs were actually three blonde men, all
of whom she had actually seen before, though the only one she knew by name
was Edge. "Yeah, okay, the vision’s clear now," Faith said as she started
to sit up, groaning as she did so. She immediately felt a strong arm
helping to prop her up, and she turned her head to find herself face to face
with one of the two men she didn’t know.

"Be careful," he warned her in a quiet voice. "You took quite a hit there."

"Speaking of which, what exactly happened?" she asked, allowing herself a
moment of leaning on him.

"Edge hit you with the door."

"It was an accident!" the man in question protested once more.

"Damn, man, you’re beginning to sound like a broken record," Jericho
muttered as he stood up. He watched silently as Christian proceeded to help
the young woman stand, and he was happy to see that she seemed alert. With
any luck, she just had a bump on the head and not an actual concussion.

"We should probably get you to a doctor," Christian said as he continued to
support the young woman. She seemed steady enough, but he was still
reluctant to let go of her.

"No. No doctor," Faith told him, shaking her head and stepping away from
him. She winced at the pain caused by the sharp motion, but she remained
steady. Truth be told, she’d had far worse injuries than this before.

"Christian’s right, Faith. It’s probably a good idea to see a doctor," Edge
told her.

"I said no. I’m fine," she told him. "Besides, I have other things to do."

"Like what-"

"Faith!"

All four people turned at the sound of the voice, and the guys were more
than a little surprised to see Matt Hardy coming towards them with something
in his hand.

"What is it? Did you find anything?" Faith asked as she rushed over to the
dark-haired southerner. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw just what
it was that Matt was carrying. "That’s Willow’s purse."

Matt nodded. "I kind of figured that, what with it having her driver’s
license in it and all. They must have been mugged."

"Maybe," the brunette replied, reaching for Willow’s purse, which Matt
quickly relinquished to her. "But that doesn’t explain where the hell they
are now," she continued as she began rifling through her friend’s purse in
search of answers. "Nor does it explain why her cash is still here," Faith
said as she pulled out several bills, most of which appeared to be twenties.

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Chris Jericho asked, a confused
look on his face.

"Willow and Jeff never came back from their date, and that was something
like nine hours ago," Matt told the others. "Jeff missed a public
appearance-"

"-And Willow and I had made plans to do something."

"So... they just ditched you?" Edge suggested in a questioning voice that
said he didn’t really believe his own statement.

"Yeah, without Willow’s purse," Faith said with a snort. "Her credit cards
and cell phone are still in here, too."

"Is there anything missing at all?" Christian asked.

"What else would someone be after?" Jericho returned, and a sudden sinking
feeling settled in the pit of Faith’s stomach at the question. The book she
had tucked away in her jacket now seemed to be burning a hole in her pocket.
As a sudden thought came to her, she upended Willow’s purse, spilling the
contents of it on the concrete and falling to her knees to look through the
items now scattered on the ground.

"What is it? What are you looking for?" Matt asked as he knelt down beside
her watching as she frantically searched for... well, something.

"Damn it. They got her key card," Faith muttered as she finished going
through Willow’s things.

Matt sent a measured look in the young woman’s direction. "You think you
know what these people were after, don’t you?"

"God, I hope not," Faith returned.

"What is it, Faith? What are you and Willow involved in? Is it something
illegal?"

The brunette gave a hollow laugh. "I wish it were that simple, but no, it’s
not something illegal. And don’t worry, Willow and I are the good guys...
Of course, that means that the bad guys have Willow and Jeff."

"So we go to the cops," Jericho said, and Faith shook her head.

"Won’t do. Cops won’t be able to do a damn thing, and Wills and Jeff are as
good as dead if we do that. They’ll come to me. They have to."

"And why is that?" Christian asked, his voice solemn.

"Because I have what they want, and they know it." Sighing, Faith scooped
Willow’s things up off the ground and tossed them back in her purse, then
stood up. "They’ll probably go to the hotel room, leave a message or
something. That’s got to be why they took the key card. God, they probably
had someone follow us to find out where we were staying. I’ve got to get
back to the room."

"Maybe you should stay with us instead," Edge suggested suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

"You’ve got dangerous people - people who apparently took Willow and Jeff -
after you. They’ve got a key to where you’re staying. It would just be
safer for you to stay with us, at least for now."

"Edge is right," Matt said, nodding his head.

"I’ve still got to go back to the hotel and get my things," Faith told him.
"Not to mention the small fact that they’ll be looking for me there... and
they’re the way we’ll get Wills and Jeff back. Even if I stay with you
guys, I’ll have to keep the room at the other hotel so they can find me. If
they can’t leave me a message or whatever, then they can’t tell me what they
want."

Matt gazed steadily at the brunette. He didn’t know why she seemed so
certain about what was going on, but something about her made him trust her
instincts. Until she gave him reason not to, he was going to follow her
lead. "Will you be able to give it to them?" he asked.

Faith thought of the book in her pocket. "Don’t know about that, but can
give them one hell of a fight, that’s for sure."

"That’s reassuring."

"It’s the best I can do right now," she told him as she ran a hand through
her hair. "Was there anything else that might be considered a clue where
you found the purse?"

Matt shrugged. "Once I found the purse, I kind of stopped looking."

"Okay, then you guys can go check back there while I go get my stuff. That
is, if you still think I should stay with you."

"I think that would be best."

"Fine. Then I’ll be back in awhile," she told them as she turned and began
to walk away.

"Wait!"

Faith turned back around to find the blonde that Edge had referred to as
Christian - the guy who had seemed so concerned about her after she’d
regained consciousness - coming towards her. "What is it?" she asked.

"I’m coming with you."

Part Eleven

Faith briskly and silently made her way towards the hotel, not sure what to
say to the man walking beside her. She was torn between being glad that he
was with her - she really wasn’t feeling like being on her own at the moment
- and wondering why he had offered to come with her. Well, he hadn’t
exactly offered per se, he had actually just simply announced it. Sighing,
the brunette paused in front of the massive building that housed the hotel
she and Willow had been staying in.

"This is it," she told him unnecessarily.

"So, we’re just getting your stuff, then heading back, right?" Christian
inquired, glancing at Faith, who seemed to be a bit preoccupied.
Considering the fact that her friend had apparently been kidnapped, it
really wasn’t a big surprise.

"That’s the plan," Faith replied as she led the blonde into the building.

Christian easily fell into step beside her, quickening his pace as she did
the same. He seemed to sense her nervousness and accept her need for
silence, and for that Faith was grateful.

Moving quickly, the brunette made her way to the stairs, forgoing using the
elevator for the moment. Once they had reached the fourth floor, she led
Christian down the hall, stopping at the proper door and digging around in
her pocket, finally pulling out her key card. She quickly unlocked the
door, then pushed it open and stepped into the room.

"Oh, my God," she breathed as she took in the sight of the room.

At the stunned sound of Faith’s voice, Christian eased the brunette farther
inside, then entered the room himself, shutting the door behind him before
looking around the room. He had to bite his lip in order to keep himself
from repeating the young woman’s earlier words.

After taking a steadying breath, Faith made her way across the trashed room,
reaching out to touch the message that had been left on the wall. It was
still wet, and some of it got on the sleeve of her shirt.

"It’s only paint," she said after a moment. "They just wanted to get my
attention."

"I’d say they managed that quite well," Christian replied, still staring at
the blood-red words that were dripping down the wall. ‘Where is it?’
That’s all it said, just those three words, but they clearly meant a great
deal to Faith. Whether she admitted it or not, she certainly seemed to know
what it was that these people wanted. Christian just hoped she told the
right people what it was before it was too late. "I take it this little
message means they didn’t get what they came for."

"You think?" Faith said with a snort as she looked around the room at the
overturned chairs, pulled out drawers, and empty suitcases. Sighing, she
ran her hand through her hair, then looked over at Christian. "If I have my
way, they’ll never get their hands on what they came here for."

"Do you usually get your way?"

"Almost always," the brunette replied.

"And what happens when you don’t?" Christian asked.

"Then I usually make people really sorry for it.," Faith told him, a slight
smirk on her face. All hints of a smile faded from her features, however,
as she once more glanced around the room. "I guess I ought to get my stuff
together so we can get out of here. I don’t think they’ll come back
tonight, but if they do, I don’t particularly want to be he when they show
up. I’m not really up for a fight right now. Maybe tomorrow."

Christian simply nodded in response to that statement, although personally
he couldn’t imagine ever wanting to face the people who had done this. At
least, not without back-up, anyway. After a moment, though, a thought
occurred to the Canadian. "Shouldn’t we be calling security or something
about this?" he asked as he made his way over to one of the beds and sat
down, beginning to put some clothes back into one of the suitcases so that
he and Faith could leave as quickly as possible.

"What good would it do? Security’s not going to be able to catch these
assholes, and we can always deal with the trashed room later," Faith replied
as she knelt down and started grabbing some of Willow’s clothes from the
floor and tossing them into one of the other suitcases. It was in mid-toss
that she noticed the paint on the sleeve of her shirt. "Damn it," she
muttered as she stood up and headed over towards Christian, who just
happened to be in the process of packing her clothes. Without thinking
about what she was doing, the young woman yanked her shirt off over her head
pausing only when she heard Christian’s gasp.

Although he had admittedly been a bit surprised when Faith took her shirt
off, that wasn’t the reason for Christian’s gasp. Because he was sitting on
the bed and Faith was standing almost directly in front of him, the nasty
scar that marked the young woman’s abdomen was impossible to miss.

Slowly, almost as if of it’s own volition, Christian’s hand moved to Faith’s
abdomen, his fingers lightly tracing the scar. He could feel her trembling
slightly under his touch, and he immediately pulled his hand back at the
sound of her sharp intake of breath.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked softly, even though he knew that wasn’t
possible. The scar was nasty, but it was old enough to have already begun
fading a bit.

Faith shook her head slowly, her eyes locked on Christian’s. Damn, he had
nice eyes. And they were so intense... "No, it doesn’t hurt anymore," she
made herself reply, annoyed by the slightly breathless tone of her voice.
What the hell was wrong with her? Quickly, Faith pulled on a new shirt and
stepped away from Christian. Maybe putting some distance between herself
and the blonde would help.

Christian sat back as Faith moved away, blinking a few times as he tried to
figure out exactly what had just happened between him and the brunette.
Shaking his head slightly, the blonde decided that he would think about it
later. However, there was still something he just had to ask. "What
happened to you?"

Faith paused for a moment, then shrugged and continued her task of picking
clothes up off the floor. "I got stabbed," she stated simply.

"You got stabbed," the tag team champion repeated in a voice that was just a
bit stunned.

"Yeah, about two years ago. I was... uh, I was in a coma for about eight
months after it happened."

"A coma? For a stabbing?" He knew that the scar looked bad. but it didn’t
look like enough to induce an eight month coma...

"There was also a really bad fall involved," Faith hedged, not really
wanting to talk about what had happened. Christian noticed her reluctance
to discuss the subject and decided to let it drop.

"Are you almost ready?" the blonde asked, his eyes briefly meeting Faith’s.

"Just about," she answered as she started shoving her makeup back into its
bag. It was the last thing she had to do before they could leave. The
brunette glanced up into the mirror, surreptitiously watching as Christian
finished putting the last of her clothes back in her bag. Ever since he had
touched her a few moments before, the feeling in the room had changed
somehow. Maybe it was because of how gentle he had been, or how concerned
he had seemed, but there was just something about this man... No, this was
not the time, Faith told herself sternly as she zipped her makeup bag and
turned to face the blonde. "You ready?"

Christian looked up from his spot on the bed, where he had paused in the
process of zipping her suitcase and was now holding something in his hand.
"I think you need to take a look at this."

"What is it?" she asked, moving towards him.

"Another message," he replied, holding the object out to her.

Faith frowned as she reached out to take the photograph that the Canadian
was offering to her. Her frown deepened and her fist clenched reflexively -
wrinkling the picture - when she realized what she was looking at a photo
of.

Willow and Jeff.

Part Twelve

Willow moaned softly as she came to; the first thing she was aware of was
the pounding in her head that was left over from whatever she had been
drugged with. She slowly came to realize that her head was slumped forward,
and that her face was curtained by hair, not all of it her own. Well,
either it belonged to somebody else, or somehow part of her hair had turned
blue while she was unconscious...

Jeff Hardy. It was his hair; it had to be. Jeff had been with her, and he
had been taken, too. Damn it.

As the redhead continued to regain her senses somewhat, Willow became aware
of a strong, steady heartbeat beneath her cheek. She shifted carefully,
moving her head slowly away from the strong chest that she knew had to
belong to Jeff and lifted her face in order to look up at him. Green eyes
locked with green eyes, and Jeff managed a weak smile in her direction.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Hey," Willow replied eloquently, her eyes still locked with his. "Are you
okay?"

"I’ve been better," Jeff told her. After a moment of thought, however, he
added, "But I’ve been worse, too."

"Yeah, well, have you ever been handcuffed to a pipe before?" Willow asked
as she looked over their heads to where their hands had been secured.

"That’s one thing that I can’t say has ever happened to me before," the
young man responded as he shifted his position. "Where the hell are we,
anyway?" he asked.

The redhead winced as she turned her head to look around; her neck was stiff
from the time she had spent with her head slumped forward against Jeff’s
chest, and it hurt to move too much. "I’m guessing we’re in a warehouse,"
Willow said as she took in their surroundings. There were boxes and crates
all around them, and they were sitting amongst one of the stacks of crates,
actually one top of one of the crates, in the corner of the warehouse.
"Where exactly this warehouse is... Well, your guess is as good as mine."

"Which means we have absolutely no clue where we are," Jeff stated softly as
he stared at Willow’s profile. He frowned as he caught sight of a bruise
forming at the young woman’s jawline. "Are you okay?" he questioned,
suddenly realizing he had yet to ask her about her well-being.

"I’m fine," Willow assured him as she turned to face him once more. She was
slightly surprised by the sudden look of concern on the southerner’s face.
"Why do you ask?"

"You have a bruise," Jeff told her. "Right here..." The handcuffs holding
his hands to the pipe overhead clanked loudly as the wrestler tried to reach
his hand out to touch her jaw, and he scowled up at the offending metal
before returning his attention to the woman in front of him. "It’s right
here," he said again, this time leaning forward to gently nuzzle the bruised
area.

"Oh," Willow whispered, her voice slightly breathless because of Jeff’s
unexpected actions. "I didn’t even notice."

Jeff shifted back slightly and looked at the redhead, their eyes locking
almost instantly. Even though Jeff had moved, their faces were still so
close that their breath was intermingling. If either one was to lean
forward even a little bit...

And then Jeff did lean forward, and suddenly they were kissing.

They both rose from their sitting position to come to their knees, moving
closer together, though they still weren’t touching. In fact, their only
point of contact was their lips, which was both thrilling and frustrating.
Jeff loved the feel of Willow’s soft lips pressed against his and the way
she made a small sound of pleasure when he swept his tongue inside her mouth
to explore, but the fact that he had no way to touch her, no way to wrap his
arms around her and hold her close was driving him crazy.

After what could have been a moment or an eternity, they both pulled back,
stopping to stare at each other in silence. It was Willow who spoke first.

"I don’t know what that was for..."

"If I was out of line, I’m sorry-"

"But I liked it," Willow finished with a smile, and, even given their
predicament, Jeff couldn’t help but smile back.

"Oh. Well, that’s always a good thing." Sighing, Jeff looked back up at
their bound hands. He knew that spending too much time in this position
would make them seriously sore. "How the hell are we going to get out of
this?"

Willow looked up to study their cuffed hands for a moment. The pipe seemed
more than sturdy enough to hold, as did the handcuffs themselves. With a
sigh of her own, the redhead glanced around the empty warehouse. The
windows in the building were fairly small and at least twenty feet off the
ground. "I have no idea," Willow reluctantly admitted. She didn’t know if
they could break the pipe - and even if they could, how far would they get
in handcuffs? - and she didn’t see any way to signal anybody who happened to
be passing by outside. "I think we may just have to wait for awhile and
either try to come up with a plan or wait to be rescued."

"But who even knows that we’re missing?"

Willow glanced at the windows once more, then turned to face Jeff again.
"It’s dark out right now, which means whatever they drugged us with probably
took us out for awhile. I’m sure Faith knows that something’s up by now..."

"...And Matt’s probably pissed at me for missing our public appearance,"
Jeff broke in, suddenly remembering the scheduled event.

"If Faith’s talked to him - and I’m willing to bet that she has by now -
then I’m sure he’s more worried than anything," the redhead countered,
making a face as she shifted uncomfortably.

"Are you okay?" Jeff asked, immediately noticing her expression.

"I’m fine," she replied as she moved from a kneeling position back to a
sitting position, frowning once more as the movement caused her to pull on
her arms. "It’s just that this isn’t the most comfortable position in the
world."

Jeff nodded sympathetically in response to her statement. He understood
what she meant; his muscles were already getting stiff from being like this.
Carefully, he shifted his body backwards, making a face at the clanking
noise the handcuffs made as he dragged them the length of the pipe.
Finally, he felt his back hit the wall behind him, and he sat down, leaning
against the concrete wall. Once this was accomplished, he looked over at
Willow. "Come over here," he instructed.

The redhead raised her eyebrows at the command but obeyed anyway, making her
way over to him on her knees. Once she was in front of him, she remained
kneeling and gave him a look. "Somehow, I don’t think that position is
going to work for me," she told him, nodding in the general direction of his
seated form. "I’m shorter than you, so it pulls too much on my arms to sit
down for very long, which means I’m kind of stuck here."

Jeff thought for a moment, then stretched out his legs, placing one on
either side of Willow. "Here," he suggested. "Sit on my lap."

"Won’t that hurt your legs after awhile?" the redhead asked, knowing full
well that they could be stuck in this warehouse for a long time.

Jeff shrugged - or, at least, he shrugged as best he could given the
circumstances - and gave Willow an adorable half-smile. "I don’t mind," he
replied. "Besides, I’d rather have you close to me."

The young woman considered the statement for a moment, then carefully made
her way over so that she was sitting in Jeff’s lap. The southerner sorely
wanted to put his arms around the redhead and pull her closer, but because
of the damn handcuffs that were being used on him and Willow, it was
impossible. After a few second of Willow just sitting there perched on his
lap, she settled in slightly and leaned her head against Jeff’s shoulder.
Jeff then rested his cheek against her forehead, and the two simply sat
there, drawing comfort from one another as they tried to figure out just how
in the hell they were going to get out of this.

For now, all they could do was wait.

Part Thirteen

Faith walked down the street, not really paying attention to where she was
going. She seemed to be in a bit of a state of shock, and, the truth be
told, she didn’t know for sure why she felt this way. It wasn’t as if she
hadn’t know that Willow and Jeff had been kidnapped; she’d known it before
she and Christian had even left to go back to her hotel room, so she
shouldn’t have really been all that surprised by the mess they had found
there. Yet she was.

Or was she?

Maybe it wasn’t the ransacking of her room that had her so freaked out -
Lord knew it had been done before and it would be done before. No, maybe it
was something entirely different that had her concentration shattered into
about a million pieces... Maybe it was the man trailing just a few steps
behind her.

Maybe it was Christian.

She didn’t want to admit it, but it was true. There was just something
about the blonde man that got to her. When he’d touched her scar earlier,
there had been this instant heat, the likes of which Faith had never felt
before. And his eyes. Good Lord, when he’d been staring at her, she’d
nearly gotten lost in his eyes...

"Hey, watch yourself."

The voice came from directly behind the brunette, and Faith jumped slightly
when a strong arm banded around her waist and pulled her out of the street
and just beyond the reach of a passing car. Damn it, she’d been so zoned
out that she almost managed to get herself killed.

"You okay?" The voice was soft and full of concern, and it was almost
directly in her ear. taking a deep breath to steady herself, Faith turned
her head to find herself once more looking into Christian’s eyes. Holy God,
he had beautiful eyes...

"Yeah," Faith told him, her voice barely above a whisper. Damn it, why was
she letting him affect her like this... This wasn’t like her, she’d never
reacted to a guy in this way before, and she was pretty damn certain she
didn’t like it.

"Are you sure?" he questioned.

"Yeah," Faith assured him. "I’m fine." The brunette silently cursed
herself for mentally adding ‘and so are you.’ God, what was wrong with her?
She was twenty years old, she had more experience with men than most women
twice her age, and here she was, acting like some girl with her first crush.

If Christian noticed how Faith was reacting to him, he chose to leave it
left unsaid. Instead, he dropped his arm from the brunette’s face and
stepped back slightly, giving her a bit more space. "Good," he replied
softly as they began walking again, reaching for Faith’s hand as they did
so.

The young woman looked down at their joined hands, appearing a bit surprised
to discover that yes, she was indeed holding Christian’s hand. She took a
deep breath as she allowed her eyes to travel up his muscled arm to his
shoulder, and then from his shoulder to his face. She blushed slightly when
she realized he was watching her, and she immediately turned to face the
direction in which they were walking. A faint smile touched the blonde
Canadian’s lips at the young woman’s actions, but he didn’t comment. He was
afraid that if he did so, she’d pull her hand away, and he didn’t want that
to happen. There was something highly enjoyable about being in contact with
Faith, even if it was only their hands that were touching.

After a moment, the brunette spoke, her mind still on the strong, gentle
hand that was holding hers. "So, um, when we get to the hotel, whose room
will we be going to?" she asked, then mentally scolded herself for saying
that. It just sounded... wrong somehow, like they were about to go off and
do something. Not that she’d mind... No! Damn it, what the hell was wrong
with her? She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about doing naughty things to
a guy she hardly knew, and she hadn’t meant it that way, anyhow. She’d
simply wanted to know if Christian had an idea of what room the others would
be in. She’d forgotten to ask before they had left earlier.

"Probably Matt and Jeff’s room," the blonde replying as they approached the
hotel. As they neared the alley, Faith glanced into the dark abyss, and she
frowned.

"What were you guys doing coming out of the side door earlier tonight
anyway?" she suddenly asked, her mind on the slight throb she still had from
getting hit in the head with the door.

Christian frowned for a moment, caught off guard by her sudden change of
subject, but then he realized what she was talking about and relaxed.
"There were a couple of crazed Jerichoholics in the lobby, and Chris, Edge,
and I were trying to avoid them." At the brunette’s confused look, the man
rushed to explain. "Jerichoholics are fans of Chris’s. His name’s Chris
Jericho, so... Jerichoholics."

"Jerichoholics, huh?" Faith mused with a faint smirk as she and Christian
entered the hotel. "Is that anything like alcoholism? ‘Cause, you know,
there are twelve step programs for that kind of thing."

The blonde laughed and smiled at the girl, enjoying the comment. "I’ll have
to ask Chris about that," he said as he led Faith to the elevator, ignoring
the speculative looks he received from a couple of the guys that were coming
out of the hotel bar. He knew they were probably thinking he’d found some
action, but he didn’t really feel like taking the time to tell them that
they were wrong. He just hoped they left him alone about it.

The pair stood in silence, still holding hands, as the elevator ascended a
few floors, then stopped, the doors opening. They waited quietly while a
bleached blonde with huge breasts stepped onto the elevator and pushed the
button for the floor she wanted. Faith quickly dropped Christian’s hand
when she saw the pointed look the woman gave them.

"Evening, Trish," Christian said softly. "You going to visit Test?"

"Who else would I be visiting?" the woman asked, and Christian smirked a
little in response as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. He waited
until he and Faith were stepping off the elevator before answering.

"Oh, I don’t know, Trish. Given what the locker room talk says about you, I
can think of several."

The blonde woman’s indignant reply was cut off by the door sliding shut once
more, and Faith turned to Christian, a smile on her face. "Who the hell was
that woman?"

"Trish Stratus. She manages a few of the guys."

Faith nodded, then glanced back at the elevator, knowing the one that
carried Trish was long gone by now. "She must feel pretty safe in a plane
crash," the young woman commented. "What with having those built-in
flotation devices on her chest and all."

The blonde Canadian couldn’t help but laugh at the snide remark, but his
laughter quickly faded as they came to a stop in front of Matt Hardy’s hotel
room door. He looked over at Faith, not surprised that she had sobered as
well. "We’re going to have to tell him about the room, you know."

Faith nodded, reaching into her pocket and touching the photograph of Willow
and Jeff that had been left for them. "I know," she replied. "But that
doesn’t make it any easier."

Part Fourteen

"So what the hell do we do now?"

Faith looked over at Matt Hardy, who was sitting on one of the two beds in
the room he was supposed to be sharing with his brother. That was the key
phrase, now wasn’t it? ‘Supposed to be.’ ‘Cause Jeff certainly wasn’t
there, and they had no idea when - or even if - he’d ever be back. Sighing,
Faith shook her head, glancing around the rest of the occupants of the room
- Christian, Edge, Chris Jericho, and a woman named Lita that had been
introduced simply as a friend of Matt and Jeff’s - before returning her gaze
to Matt.

"Look... What we have to do is this... We have to find out who these
bastards who took Willow and Jeff are, we track them down, and we kick their
asses."

"Sounds like a plan," Matt retorted. "The only trouble is, you have no idea
how to execute it." For a moment, the dark-haired young man stared down at
the photograph in his hand, then stood up, thrusting the picture in the
brunette’s face. "Look at this! They are unconscious! They are in
danger-"

"Don’t you think I know that?" Faith yelled at him, stepping closer so that
they were practically in each other’s faces. Christian tried to hold Faith
back, but she shrugged him off. "Don’t you think I know how bad this is?
Don’t you think I want them back as much as you do?"

"Jeff’s my brother!"

"Oh, and that makes it different? That means you care more? That’s crap.
You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve been through. To me, Willow is
family. She’s the closest thing to a sister I’ll ever have. I never knew
my dad, my mom kicked me out when I was fifteen. Those people aren’t my
family. People like Willow and Angel? They are my family. They’re who I
care about the most. I’ve done some bad things in my past, and they’ve
given me chances time and time again, even though I keep screwing up. And I
will stop at nothing... and I mean *nothing* in order to help them. Do you
understand me?"

Matt stared into Faith’s eyes, and he could see the determination and
emotion in her eyes. The same determination and emotion that was mirrored
in his own. After a moment, he stepped back, and the room seemed to breathe
a collective sigh of relief as it became apparent that the confrontation
wasn’t going to turn into a knock down, drag out fight.

"I’m sorry," Matt muttered softly, pushing his hair out of his face. "I
shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. I know you’re worried, too, and
all that..."

"It’s no big deal," Faith said, trying to shrug it off, though she knew it
wouldn’t be that easy. She’d never really put into words how she felt about
the people at Angel Investigations until now, but what she had said was
true. They were her family.

Matt nodded, knowing that the brunette simply wanted to drop the subject.
"Then what do we do? Call the cops?"

"That wouldn’t help," Faith replied. "They won’t be able to find them."

"And you will?" Lita asked, speaking for the first time.

"It’s what I do," the younger woman said after a moment. "I track the bad
guy, kick his ass, and help make things right. I do work for a private
investigator, you know."

"That’s all well and good, but this is a big deal," Chris Jericho put in,
his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

Faith gave a hollow laugh, thinking about the things she’d seen and done
over the past few years. If they only knew... "Look, I may be young, but
I’m not the child you seem to think I am. I’ve dealt with a lot of crap in
my life, and I can handle this. Believe it or not, I know what I’m doing.
Have a little Faith, okay?" She paused there, wrinkling her nose slightly
as she took in her own words. "And that just sounded really wrong coming
from me, didn’t it?"

Edge gave a small cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, and Faith
looked over at him, knowing he’d probably caught the same connotations she
had. The blonde man saw her looking over at him and shrugged. "Maybe just
a little. But we have other stuff to worry about right now," he said,
glancing over at Matt, who was still holding the picture of Willow and Jeff.
"How do we even go about finding them?"

"Well, if this were LA or Sunnydale, I’d go around talking to my sources and
beating up Willy the Snitch until I got some information. Unfortunately, I
don’t think that’ll work here. We can wait for the bastards to come give me
another message and track them then, but that may take awhile. I want
something faster. I can talk to Giles and Angel... maybe even Spike. They
have contacts all over; they can give me information on where to go and who
to beat up."

"Who exactly are Angel, Giles, and Spike?" Christian asked.

"Angel’s my boss, and Giles and Spike are old friends... Well, actually,
Spike’s more of an old enemy, but he’ll help."

"Are you sure about that?" Matt asked. "What if he sends you in the wrong
direction? And how would he even know the direction to send you in? Is he
even in New York?"

"He knows that if he screws around with me, he’s dead," Faith replied
bluntly. "And no, he’s not in New York, he’s in California."

"Then how would he know in what direction to send you anyway?"

"Let’s just say that the people I work with may have an idea of who these
bastards are."

"And what about what they want?"

"That, too," Faith admitted.

"Then why don’t we just give it to them?" Matt asked.

"Because if we did, Willow and Jeff wouldn’t be the only ones in danger,"
the young woman replied, her voice totally serious. Sighing, she knelt down
and took her cell phone out of her bag, then headed towards the only other
room, the bathroom. "I’m going to make some calls, see what I can find
out," she told them before entering the room and closing the door.

After she left, Lita turned to Christian. "Interesting girl."

"That’s for sure," the Canadian replied.

"I don’t really think we’ll be getting anything done tonight, and um, Matt
told me she’s staying here at this hotel, so we probably ought to figure out
some room arrangements. With how tense they are, I really don’t think Faith
and Matt should be staying in the same room. They’ll either piss each other
off or freak each other out."

Christian nodded; he’d been thinking along much the same lines. "What do
you have in mind?"

"I could stay here and sleep in Jeff’s bed, and Faith can use my-"

"I don’t think she should be alone... Same goes for Matt. You should stay
here with him. You’re closer to him than the rest of us are. Maybe Edge
can take your room, and Faith can stay with me."

"Are you sure?" Lita asked. She thought she’d picked up some sort of vibe
between Christian and the young woman, but she wasn’t sure what to make of
it.

"Yeah, I’m sure." At the look on the female wrestler’s face, a small smile
curved his lips. "Don’t worry about. I can handle it," he assured her,
though he wasn’t really sure that was true.

Part Fifteen

Jeff shifted a bit, wincing in discomfort as he did so, and trying to be
careful not to wake Willow. He wasn’t sure how it was that the slender
redhead had managed to fall asleep under these conditions, but she had, and
he wasn’t about to disturb her sleep. She undoubtedly needed the rest.
Sighing quietly, the wrestler looked down at the young woman sleeping in his
lap, wishing beyond anything that he could find a way to get them both out
of there safely, but he didn’t have a clue where to start, which was as
frustrating as hell. Jeff had never exactly been what one would call a
patient person, and the idea of waiting to be rescued from... well, whoever
the hell it was who had kidnapped them... really chafed at him. Plus, he
didn’t know why the hell they had even been taken in the first place.

But he was pretty sure Willow did.

He hadn’t asked her about it before because he had been too concerned with
her well-being and trying to find a way to escape, and then, when he had
managed to convince her to climb into his lap, he had simply enjoyed having
her curled up against him. He hadn’t wanted to ruin the moment by speaking.
But now that she was asleep, and he had ample time to think about what was
going on... Well, there were a few things he wished he had thought to ask
her.

Things such as ‘What the hell is this book those guys mentioned?’ and ‘Do
you actually know where it is?’ The men had certainly seemed to think that
she did. And though he hadn’t been able to see Willow’s face throughout the
ordeal that had led to them being drugged and dragged away to this abandoned
warehouse that was hopefully still somewhere in New York City, the way the
men had reacted to her told Jeff that something in her face had indicated
that she not only knew what they were talking about, she knew where it was.
And, unless Jeff was terribly mistaken, it seemed that this book was most
likely in Faith’s possession... The way the man had acted when he’d
suggested that... Something on Willow’s face had to indicate that the
brunette had the book. And somebody had already been killed in these men’s
quest to get their hands on it. They had said something about a shopkeeper,
hadn’t they? They’d killed the shopkeeper that Willow and Faith had
apparently gotten the book from, which meant they’d probably be willing to
murder someone again if they felt that they had to. But what would make
someone feel that they had to kill in order to get a hold of a book?

What the hell was in this thing?

"Damn it, Willow, what have you gotten yourself into?" he muttered as he
looked down at her sleeping face. He was torn between sitting there and
just watching her sleep and shaking her awake and demanding answers so that
he could help her get out of whatever mess she and her friend were in. Of
course, given the fact that his arms were currently immobile, the second
choice really wasn’t a feasible option, which meant the only thing he could
really do right now was go over what he did know. He knew that Willow
worked for a private investigator - she’d told him that, and he had no
reason not to believe her - and he assumed that her friend Faith worked for
the same person, but somehow he didn’t think getting kidnapped and held
hostage for an inanimate object should fit into her job description.

But did she think that it did?

Jeff didn’t really think that was possible, but, given the way she had
reacted to the whole situation... Any woman he knew - even Lita, who he
considered to be an incredibly strong and level-headed individual - would
have probably been completely freaked out after being kidnapped and waking
up in a strange place. But Willow... sure she’d seemed scared when the guys
had grabbed them, but she’d really had it together when they’d woken up in
the warehouse. She’d seemed prepared to wait until help came, and she’d
even kissed him, for Christ’s sakes. Or, she’d let him kiss her... But she
had kissed him back... And, oh who the hell cared? The point was, she was
far more calm and collected than the average person would be - damn it, she
was actually *asleep* right now, wasn’t she? - and she seemed to have total
confidence that her friend Faith, who couldn’t be any older than she was
herself, would know what to do.

What twenty year old would know what to do when faced with something like
this? It wasn’t exactly something that they offered courses in at the local
college. Or, at least, he didn’t think they did. But where had Willow
gotten this calmness from? Had she been through something like this before?
Damn it, he didn’t want to even think about that as a possibility. But
what if she had... What did that mean? What exactly was it that Willow and
Faith were involved in, and what had they experienced in the past? For
Willow to be so composed, so damn calm and collected, even in the face of
what was going on, was a clear indication that her job wasn’t as safe as
she’d wanted him to believe. Looking for lost kids or trying to catch
cheating boyfriends in the act was a far cry from being abducted by a bunch
of lunatics.

Shaking his head slightly, Jeff looked down at the redhead once more, his
gaze falling on her face. The bruise on her jaw had darkened a bit, a harsh
contrast to her pale skin. Damn it, she looked so young and fragile, but
something told him that there was an inner strength inside of her that he
hadn’t yet begun to see. Even so, even though he knew she was far tougher
than she appeared, that didn’t stop him from wanting to protect her and keep
her safe, it didn’t stop him from wanting to wrap his arms around her and
hold her close-

And damn it, his hands were still cuffed. He’d nearly forgotten that.
Apparently, holding her close was still out of the picture, at least for
now. Maybe later, once they had gotten the hell out of there, and after he
had actually gotten the feeling back in his arms... Not to mention how stiff
his shoulders were. And if he was this sore, imagine how Willow would feel
when she woke up...

Sighing once more, Jeff closed his eyes and leaned his head against the
wall, resigning himself to being stuck for at least awhile longer. He had
no idea how they were going to get out of there, but, if Willow seemed to
believe that Faith was going to be able to find them, he was to trust her on
that point. Besides, their boss was a private investigator. Maybe he would
have connections that would lead Faith and the others to him and Willow...
Maybe they would be saved.

And then, after it was all said and done, maybe Jeff could figure out a way
to get Willow out of the dangerous life that she lived.



Part Sixteen

Christian paused at the doorway as he exited the bathroom, his eyes drawn
immediately to Faith. She was sitting on one of the beds, wearing a T-shirt
and boxer shorts, and her face was completely scrubbed free of the makeup
she had been wearing earlier. The whole overall effect of the outfit -
especially in contrast to the sexy clothes and semi-heavy makeup she’d been
wearing earlier - made Faith seem young and innocent, and nothing like the
forceful young woman she’d been earlier that night in Matt’s hotel room.
She looked so small and lost sitting there on the edge of the bed, and all
the self-confidence and bluster that had propelled her in her earlier tirade
seemed to have faded away. It was all he could do not to go over to her and
just hold her, but he wasn’t sure how she would react to that, so he managed
to hold himself back. Even so, he couldn’t just ignore how sad she looked.

"Faith?" Christian asked in a soft voice as he stepped into the room. "Are
you okay?"

The brunette looked over at the blonde man, who was ready for bed wearing
only a pair of track pants (he’d thought they’d both be more comfortable if
he slept in something other than the boxers he usually wore), and Faith had
to force her gaze away from Christian’s bare chest and towards his face.
"I’ve been better," she admitted, her own voice abnormally subdued. "But
I’ll make it."

"Do you want to talk about it?" the Canadian asked as he sat down on the bed
opposite from her.

"I wish I could... It’s just, I don’t know what to say. When something bad
happens, Willow’s usually the one I turn to. She’s the person I lean on. I
depend on her... Too much, probably. And now she’s gone."

"We’re going to get her back," Christian promised, and Faith gave him a
melancholy smile.

"Thanks... for saying that," she said, reaching out to briefly take his hand
before pulling back. "But we both know that that’s not a certainty. We can
try, we can do our damnedest to get them back, but things don’t always work
out the way we want them to."

"You shouldn’t say that, Faith. Thinking that way-"

"Doesn’t help. I know. And I try not to think like that. But sometimes
things just hit me, and I can’t help it, you know? Bad habit, I guess.
Anyway, I go out there, and I say that I will stop at *nothing* to get
Willow and Jeff back... And God knows I mean it. It’s the truth. It’s how
I feel, and it’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to give everything I have
in me in order to get them back. But sometimes you can go through hell, and
it just doesn’t matter. You try and make things better, you try to fix
things, and they just get worse. Sometimes everything isn’t enough."

"Faith-"

The brunette waved away whatever words Christian was about to say. "Don’t.
I know I’m not making any sense, and it’s nothing you really need to worry
about. Too much sugar and adrenaline earlier... Now I’m getting the
downside. And really, it’s just been an incredibly long day, and, as much
as it’s a really bad cliché to say it, I know that things will look better
in the morning... Or at least I hope they will," she amended, sending a
sad-looking half-smile Christian’s way. "And on that note, I think it’s
time for me to go to bed."

"Are you sure about that? I mean, we could stay up and talk for awhile..."

"I’d just end up depressing us both," the young woman replied as she stood
up and pulled the covers down on her bed, then climbed in, laying back
against the pillows and staring at the ceiling for a moment before rolling
onto her side, facing away from the blonde man she was sharing a room with.
"Good night, Christian."

"Good night, Faith," he replied quietly, watching her for a moment before
climbing into his own bed and turning off the lamp, which was the only light
they had been using. Sighing softly, Christian lay down and stared at the
ceiling, not sure what to do now. He was tired, sure, but he was more
concerned with Faith’s behavior than he was about getting eight hours of
sleep, and he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to sleep well unless he
knew she was sleeping peacefully, which meant he could be up awhile. God,
how he hated to see her this way, this lost and unsure. She said that it
was only because the day had caught up to her, but he sensed some genuine
self-doubt in there as well. Faith was worried, but whether it was doubt in
her own abilities or how bad the people who were holding Willow and Jeff
were that had her so freaked, he didn’t know.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

After awhile, Christian detected the slow, even breathing that signified
sleep, and he rolled over onto his side, watching Faith as she slept. "What
happened to you?" he whispered into the darkness, thinking about the
different sides of the young woman he had already been exposed to in just a
few short hours. She could be strong and determined, a real powerhouse...
But she was young and afraid as well. She was tough as nails, but she could
still sit there and look for all the world like a little girl in need of a
hug. She could be completely confident in her abilities one moment, then
worry that she wasn’t good enough to get it done the next.

"Jesus, what a contradiction," Christian muttered to himself as he watched
her. The girl was a walking paradox, for Christ’s sake. Both strong and
weak, both fearful and brave, both scarred and innocent... Scarred. That
nasty scar on her abdomen. She hadn’t explained where she'd gotten that,
not really. And some of the things she’d said earlier, about how she’d been
kicked out of her house, never even knowing her father... Not to mention her
comment about tracking the ‘bad guy,’ then kicking their ass. He knew she
worked for a private investigator, but she was acting almost as if horrible
things like Willow and Jeff’s kidnapping were old hat, and, at her age,
there was no way that should be possible.

"Damn it, man, what have you gotten yourself into with this girl?" Christian
muttered to himself, then fell silent as a whimpering sound from the next
bed drew his attention. "Faith?" he whispered, his eyes focused on her
now-trembling form. "Faith, are you all right?" He waited a moment,
watching her in silence, then stood up and went to her bed, sitting on the
edge of it and leaning over her prone form so that he could see her face.

It was clear that the brunette was still asleep, but it was also clear that
she was in the throes of a nightmare of some sort. Christian carefully
reached out to stroke her hair, hoping to calm her if he could, and he
jumped slightly when she rolled over to face him, moving closer to him,
moving nearer to the comfort he was offering. Unsure of what to do,
Christian sat completely still for a moment, a small frown on his face that
deepened when she whimpered again. Being careful not to jar her - and
wondering just what in the hell he thought he was doing - the Canadian slid
into the bed next to her and drew her closer to him. She immediately curled
into his warmth, and Christian indulged himself a bit by continuing to play
with her hair, a gesture that seemed to comfort the young woman. After
awhile, however, he stopped the motion and gave in to the desire to settle
into the bed a bit more deeply and close his eyes.

It wasn’t long before Christian joined Faith in sleep.

Part Seventeen

Willow awoke to the sound of voices. Unfamiliar voices. Her head was still
resting against Jeff’s shoulder, and she could tell by the sound of his
breathing that he had given into exhaustion and fallen asleep at some point.
Cautiously, the redhead opened one eye, sending up a quick prayer that she
wouldn’t get caught as she did so.

There were three men in the warehouse, and God, did they look like
stereotypical thugs. Why was it that all thugs looked the same? Was there
some sort of thug school where they learned to look and act a certain way?
They may as well be wearing signs that said ‘Hey look at me, I’m a bad guy’
for all the lack of subtlety they had.

As one of the thugs, whom Willow had quickly deemed ‘Bald Guy,’ turned
around, the redhead snapped her eyes shut, trying to resist the urge to hold
her breath and trying to continue to breathe as evenly as possible in an
attempt to appear like she was still asleep. As she sat there pressed up
against Jeff and trying to look as though she was relaxed in sleep, her mind
was racing. Though she hadn’t gotten much more than a glance at the men she
knew they weren’t the ones who had grabbed her and Jeff in the alley. Which
meant that there were at least six thugs, plus the man whose voice she and
Jeff had heard but whose face they had never been able to see.

The man who had ordered that they be taken.

And just where the hell was he? Probably off somewhere ordering his yes-men
to kidnap or kill other unsuspecting people. People like Jeff.

People like that shopkeeper.

Damn it, why had they had to do that? Why had those bastards had to take
the life of a harmless Druid monk? And Willow had no doubt in her mind that
was exactly what they had done. Evil people rarely lied about the murders
they committed. That was why they were called evil; they actually did what
they claimed to have done. And now she and Jeff were more or less being
held hostage by some evil people.

Okay, time to enter panic mode.

No, wait, she couldn’t do that. If she did that, the men would know she was
awake, and somehow she instinctively knew that she was much better off if
they thought she was asleep.

"They look harmless enough," one of the thugs said. "I don’t see why we
have to be here watching over them."

"Orders from the boss," a second voice said, his voice annoyed. "He thought
they might be trouble."

"They’re asleep," the first man argued. "What harm could they do?"

"Well, first of all, they could wake up. Supposedly the redhead’s a little
spitfire. And the guy’s tougher than he looks. Really knocked Jack for a
loop when they drugged the girl. They didn’t have an easy time taking him
down."

"Why didn’t they just kill them then?"

"Yeah, that would have been real smart," a third voice replied snidely.
"Whoever these people are, they’ve got the damn book. We’ve got to use them
for leverage, you know? Offer a little deal, get the book..."

"How do we know they’ve even got it?" the second man protested.

"That little bastard shopkeeper sang like a canary when the others put on
the pressure. When we saw the two girls at the shop earlier, we thought
they might be up to something, so we had them followed. Then we got the
dirt from the shopkeeper."

‘And then you killed him,’ Willow added mentally, fuming inside. Damn it,
she wanted to get these guys, but she knew that right now she was in no
position to do so. Basically, as she sat there handcuffed, she was
helpless, and so was Jeff.

"Who are these twerps, anyway? And why didn’t we know they were after the
book? I mean, I thought all we had to worry about was that former bad ass
turned do-gooder Angelus, and he’s out in Los Angeles or something saving
lost souls."

"Which means we’ve got to get our hands on that book soon," the first man
stated. "If Angelus gets out here, and he will as soon as he finds out
where the book is, we’ll be in all sorts of trouble. He may not be evil
anymore, but he’s just as zealous on the side of good as he ever was on the
side of bad. Annoying bastard."

"You’ve dealt with him before?"

"No, but some friends of ours have. Wolfram and Hart," the man stated, and
Willow was pretty certain her heart skipped a beat. She could hardly hold
back a gasp at the sound of the familiar name, but she didn’t know why she
was so surprised. Wolfram and Hart had been giving Angel Investigations
problems for something like two years now, even attacking them directly. It
shouldn’t have come as a shock that the firm was after the book, especially
after all they had pulled in the past.

"Aren’t they the people who want this book?"

"The very ones," came the reply.

"Do they know what’s going on right now?"

"They know we’ve got these idiot kids stashed away, and they know we’ve got
a bead on who’s got the book. They’re keeping an eye on Angelus and his
little group of goody-goodies, and they’ll let us know when they make a
move."

"And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?"

"Get our hands on the book. After that, we kill the kids."

"Mitch!" a new voice called.

"Yeah!"

"The boss wants to see the three of you. Now."

Willow listened as the men left, opening her eyes as soon as she heard the
warehouse door slam shut, signaling that the men had left.

"Oh, God, this is bad," the redhead whispered, trying vainly to calm herself
down.

Wolfram and Hart. The people who had once hired Faith to kill Angel. The
Wolfram and Hart who had hired an assassin to kill a bunch of blind kids.
The very same people who’d had the first office of Angel Investigations
blown up - with Wesley still inside. And now... Now they were after the
book.

And they were keeping an eye on Angel.

How long would it take before they found out that she and Faith weren’t in
LA, and, after that, how long would it take for them to find out that they
were in New York? And God, what would happen when Wolfram and Hart found
out that the men they had hired to get the book actually had her, one of the
people they hated the most, already in their hands?

Willow didn’t want to wait around to find out. She was pretty sure that
doing so would be an automatic death sentence... For her, and for Jeff, the
book be damned.

"Jeff," she hissed, shifting around so that she was straddling his legs, her
face on the same level as his. She wanted to yell and shake him awake, but
neither option was really feasible. Screaming at him would certainly bring
the thugs - Wolfram and Hart’s thugs, no less, she reminded herself -
running, and she couldn’t move her arms. "Jeff. Damn it, Hardy, wake up,"
she ordered, leaning in close to his ear, causing him to flinch.

"What? What is it?" he asked, his voice slightly groggy as he opened his
eyes. Once they were opened, his eyes immediately locked with Willow’s, and
he sat up straighter, coming fully awake as he saw the intense seriousness
on her face. "What happened, Willow? What is it?"

"We’ve got to get the hell out of here. Now."


Part Eighteen

Faith awoke slowly, not really wanting to give up the comfort of sleep, not
really wanting to reawaken to the reality that awaited her. Because of
this, her mind forced the sluggishness of sleep away languidly, and the
first even semi-coherent thought in her head was somewhere along the lines
of ‘man smells nice...’

Wait a minute. There wasn’t supposed to be a man in her bed... Was there?

Faith’s eyes snapped open at the thought that she had just had, and she was
more than a little surprised to discover that she was basically staring
someone in the throat. She knew instantly that it had to be Christian who
was with her, but, for the life of her, she couldn’t recall how they had
ended up in this position.

Cautiously, Faith eased herself slightly away from the blonde man, lifting
herself up just enough so that she could see his face, which was peaceful
with sleep. The brunette bit her lip as she studied him, not wanting to
wake him up, but dying to find out just what the hell had happened the night
before. The last thing she remembered was climbing into bed and closing her
eyes, then... nothing.

More than a little apprehensive, Faith cautiously slid her foot over so that
it touched his leg, relieved when she came in contact with clothing rather
than bare skin. Breathing a sigh of relief she lowered her head for a
moment, her foot still touching his leg, moving up and down it just a bit.

"What are you doing?" a tired voice questioned, and the young woman’s gaze
snapped back to the man she was with, not sure what to do now that he was
obviously awake.

"I was just, uh, well... I was checking to make sure you still had clothes
on."

"Excuse me?"

"I was trying to make sure we hadn’t done anything that I had forgotten."

"What? You think I would molest you in your sleep or something?" Christian
questioned, and Faith graced him with a sad smile.

"If you really knew me, you’d know it would have been more likely to be the
other way around. I didn’t think you had done anything, Christian. Trust
me... If you had tried something and I hadn’t wanted it, it wouldn’t have
happened." The young woman paused there, her eyes trained on Christian’s
face. There were emotions she didn’t understand there, but she didn’t feel
like questioning him about them. It would just complicate things, and
things were more than complicated enough already. After a moment, Faith
opened her mouth to speak again. "What did happen last night, anyway?" she
asked, the corner of her mouth quirked upwards in a little half-smile.

The blonde man was silent for a moment as he looked into Faith’s face,
wishing he could stop time, or maybe even turn it back a little. The
sensation of waking up with her in his arms had been more than pleasant, and
he wanted to be asleep once more just so he could experience it all over
again. He didn’t really want to ruin the moment by bringing up the
nightmare from last night, especially if it meant reminding her of the
melancholy mood she had been in the night before. However, he also knew she
would press the matter if he tried to avoid it. "Well, you were asleep..."

"I kind of figured that much. What happened? I meant, how did we end up
like this?"

"You, uh, you had a nightmare."

"A nightmare," Faith repeated with a frown, not really liking the sound of
that. Her brow furrowed in thought, she pushed herself up a bit, moving so
that she was kneeling next to Christian instead of lying half on top of him.
The movement caused the covers to fall away, revealing the man’s bare
chest, and she had to force her eyes away from him as she tried to remember
what her nightmare was about. For most people, a nightmare was just a
nightmare, but for her, that wasn’t necessarily true. It *could* have been
just a bad dream... but it also could have been something more. Call them
warnings, call them portents (which Wesley was fond of doing), but sometimes
her dreams were more than just dreams, and she hated never being able to
tell for sure which was which.

"It really wasn’t a big deal, Faith," Christian told her, concerned by the
serious reaction that the information brought about in the young woman. "I
just went to comfort you, and, well, I guess I fell asleep, too. I didn’t
exactly plan for it to happen..."

"It’s okay. No big deal, really," the brunette assured him, her mind still
on the nightmare. Vague recollections of her dreams were coming back to her
now, and she wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved when the
memories of her nightmare came back to her. The dream had been a reminder
of times past rather than a warning of the future, which was good in some
ways. It meant that she hadn’t gotten a warning for an impending apocalypse
that she needed to stop; however, it also meant she hadn’t gotten any clues
as to Willow and Jeff’s whereabouts...

"Damn it!" Christian cursed as the cellular phone on the nightstand rang,
startling him.

Faith smiled slightly at his reaction, then leaned across him to grab the
phone, unaware that she was putting her chest right at his eye level.
Sighing softly, she pressed the ‘talk’ button, then put the phone to her
ear, settling back as she did so and not entirely oblivious to the sigh of
relief that Christian gave as she did so. She smiled a little as she
realized what she had done, a slightly wicked curve of her lips that
received a glare from the man in the bed.

"Faith here. Talk to me."

Christian lay quietly in bed, listening to the brunette’s end of the
discussion, but not being able to follow what was going on. Faith’s part of
the conversation tended to involve the words ‘yeah,’ okay,’ and several that
would be censored by any major network, as well as some cable stations. As
the young woman hung up the phone and tossed it across the room, the
Canadian raised his eyebrows at her.

"Bad news?"

"You could say that. That was Angel."

"He can’t find anything?"

"Oh, he found something, all right," Faith muttered.

"What is it?"

"Well, I now know who has Willow and Jeff."

"Isn’t that a good thing?"

"When you consider who has them..."

"You know them?"

"Yeah. Whoever actually has Wills and Jeff are probably just hired thugs,
but I know a whole hell of a lot about who hired them. Not exactly good
people. They’re known for leaving a body count on occasion," she told him
as she climbed out of bed, then went over to get some stuff out of her bag.

"I take it you’ve dealt with these people before?" Christian questioned as
he sat up in bed, watching Faith as she got her clothes together, obviously
planning to take a shower and get dressed.

The brunette stood as she finished gathering her things. "More than that,"
she replied, turning to face him. "I’ve worked for them."

"What?"

Faith smiled sadly. "You don’t want to know me, Christian. You may think
you do... but if you really knew me, you’d run off screaming in the other
direction. The things I’ve done..."

"Are you trying to warn me away from you?" he asked, incredulous.

"I guess I am. But it’s for the best. You... you just don’t want to know
me."

"Shouldn’t that be up to me?"

Faith shrugged. "Maybe. But you can’t say I didn’t warn you. If... if I
do let you know me, you’ll want to forget you ever met me. And you’ll be
thankful that nothing happened between us last night. That way, you’ll have
nothing to regret." Suddenly unsure, Faith glanced at Christian’s bare
chest, then looked back at his face. "Nothing did happen last night, did
it? I mean, I just assumed, but you never really straight out answered-"

"Nothing happened last night, Faith," Christian assured her, his gaze
locking with hers. "But I wouldn’t have regretted it if something had, no
matter what you say."

"You don’t know-"

"Trust me, Faith. I know."


Part Nineteen

Lita stood in the corner of the Hardy brothers’ hotel room, leaning against
the wall and half-afraid that she was actually going to fall asleep standing
up. Matt had only slept sporadically - and very restlessly - the night
before, and she’d been so damn worried about both him and Jeff that she
really hadn’t gotten any sleep to speak of either. Sighing softly, the
redhead glanced around the room, wishing that Jericho and Edge would hurry
up and get their asses over here so that they could get on with... well,
whatever this was. She didn’t really know much about what was going on, but
she did know that Faith had apparently gotten some news of some sort.
However, the brunette had decided to wait until everyone had gotten there to
divulge the information, and Lita could understand why. By doing things
this way, Faith wouldn’t be forced to repeat herself...

"You look like you could use this."

Lita blinked a few times as the sound of the voice drew her out of her
reverie, and she quickly focused her somewhat blurry eyes on the dark-haired
young woman who stood before her, and the redhead smiled slightly as she
reached out to accept the cup of coffee that Faith was holding out to her.
"Thanks. I certainly could use this. I could use about a gallon of this.
Or even better... A straight IV of caffeine. That would be heaven."

"I take it last night was rough," Faith inquired as she leaned up against
the wall next to Lita. She kept her voice low in order to avoid bothering
Matt and Christian, who were sitting on the beds and talking amongst
themselves.

"Without a doubt. I was pretty much up all night," Lita informed the other
girl, then sent a half-hearted glare in the brunette’s direction when she
heard Faith snort, apparently trying to hold in her laughter. "Not in that
way."

"I know, I know. It just sounded funny. Besides, right now I’m for
anything that would lighten the mood a little," the brunette answered,
taking a sip of her own coffee as she looked over at the two men. Her eyes
settled on Matt momentarily, and she shook her head, sympathy in her eyes.
The poor guy... He looked like hell, and she imagined he probably felt like
it, too. "This can’t be easy on him," she said softly.

"It’s not easy on any of us," Lita stated. "We’re worried about Jeff;
you’re worried about Willow... Damn it, this whole thing is just such a
complicated mess."

"You have no idea," Faith muttered, her mind on Wolfram and Hart. Sighing,
she shook her head, her eyes going over to Christian... Yet another
complication.

Lita bit her lip as she followed Faith’s gaze towards the blonde Canadian,
and the redhead smiled slightly as the man looked up, almost as if he sensed
the brunette looking at him. The pair locked gazes for a moment, and,
despite the utter seriousness of what was going on, Lita couldn’t help but
smile fully at the vibes she got from the pair.

"Well, well, well," the redhead murmured, her eyebrows slightly raised.
"Looks like someone had an even more difficult night than I did."

At the other woman’s words, Faith broke her gaze with Christian, and she
turned to look at the redhead. "No kidding. I actually did get a pretty
good night’s sleep last night, but I spent every waking moment trying to
keep myself from jumping him. Well, that and reminding myself why I have no
right to jump him... And why am I telling you this? I hardly even know
you."

"Female solidarity?" the other woman suggested with a shrug of her
shoulders. "I mean, we are the only women here, and I really don’t picture
you telling Edge that you want to jump his brother... Just like I would
never tell Jeff that I want to jump Matt... And did I just say that aloud?"

"You certainly did. So... you and Matt, huh?"

Lita shook her head. "I wish. I... I don’t know how he sees me... Probably
as just a friend, or - God forbid - a sister. Can’t you just picture that
one?"

"It couldn’t hurt to try..."

"Not now. Not with everything that’s going on... I couldn’t toss this at
him."

"But after it’s over? After we’ve got Willow and Jeff back?"

Lita thought for a moment, contemplating the possibility, then shrugged. "I
don’t know, Faith. I just don’t know..."

The brunette opened her mouth to speak once more, but immediately snapped it
shut once more when the knock came at the door. She stood there silently,
still leaning against the wall, and watched as Christian opened the door,
stepping back to allow his brother and Chris Jericho entrance.

"Okay, so we’re here," Y2J announced unnecessarily. "What is this about?"

"Faith has some news about Jeff and Willow," Matt informed them.

"Well, sort of," the brunette stated. "I mean, I know who has them, but I
don’t know what to do about it."

"Uh... How about calling the cops?" Edge suggested, his voice implying that
he thought that was the obvious option. Which, of course, it was... Unless
you knew Wolfram and Hart.

"Yeah, that would work," Faith replied, her voice a bit sarcastic. "And
while the cops were out in Los Angeles trying to pin this on them, Willow
and Jeff would be here in New York... getting dead. They wouldn’t hesitate
to kill them, okay? And once they realize they have Willow... She‘s as good
as dead."

"And you know this how?" Jericho put in.

"Because I know our foe." That said, the brunette began pacing the length
of the room, trying to put it into words that would let the guys know just
how serious this was. "Their name’s Wolfram and Hart, and they’re a law
firm in California. I’ve dealt with them a lot before. They cater to the
bad guys, and they’re really good at what they do. They once got an
assassin off, then hired her to kill a bunch of blind children. If it
hadn’t been for Lindsey, Angel would have never been able to save them."

"Who’s Lindsey?" Christian asked, speaking his first words since the others
had entered.

"A guy who works for Wolfram and Hart."

"Would he help us?"

Faith shrugged. "He occasionally has random attacks of conscience, but
right now, I’m betting that the people who have Willow and Jeff are just
hired thugs who have no idea who Willow is. If that’s true, I’m sure as
hell not going jeopardize her life by telling Lindsey. I mean, sometimes
he’s simply disgusted by what the firm does-"

"If he’s disgusted by it, then why doesn’t he leave?" Lita inquired.

"Well, Wolfram and Hart doesn’t exactly have a high turnover rate... And
their severance package has a tendency to involve a bullet to the brain,"
the brunette replied, going over to the window and staring down at the
street below. "Right now, the only thing we’ve got going is the knowledge
of who we’re dealing with. Hopefully, they don’t have that... And I do know
Wolfram and Hart very well. Cordelia - one of the people I work with - is
looking up any possible buildings owned, leased, or rented by Wolram and
Hart or one of its pseudonyms..."

"And we’ll check those places out first," Lita finished when Faith just sort
of trailed off.

"Or we can just follow them."

"What?" Matt asked, quickly coming to stand next to Faith. She sensed his
presence instantly, and pointed to something down below.

"You see that woman getting out of the limo?"

"Yeah."

"I think our luck may have just changed. She’s our ticket to finding Willow
and Jeff... And she’s staying here."


Part Twenty

"Damn it, Willow, what is going on? What are you doing?" Jeff asked as he
watched the redhead frantically trying to figure out a way to get them both
free.

"What do you think it looks like I’m doing?" Willow asked tightly, her voice
holding a frightened edge to it that Jeff found more than a little
disconcerting. "I’m trying to get out of here. We *have* to get out of
here," she continued as she frantically jerked her hands against the steel
pipe overhead, completely ignoring the sounds she was making.

"What happened, Willow?" Jeff asked, his voice both soft and urgent as he
slid his own cuffed hands along the pipe to reach for and grasp hers,
stilling her motions. He was alarmed to discover that her hands were
ice-cold and trembling beneath his. "When we fell asleep, you seemed
content to wait for the others to come and find us, and now you’re
practically chewing your damn hand off in order to get out of here... What
happened while I was asleep, Willow? What happened that scared you so damn
much?"

Willow stopped in her attempts long enough to look Jeff in the eye, and the
fear he saw there was enough to send fingers of fear rising up his own
spine. "We’ve got to get out of here," she whispered, her voice harsh. "If
we don’t, we’re as good as dead..."

"You don’t know that-"

"I know," she interrupted.

"How-?"

"Right now, they don’t realize just who it is that they have... The people
who are holding us are hired thugs, nothing more... But the people they work
for... If they figure out-"

"Willow, slow down," Jeff urged, hoping his voice sounded soothing rather
than terrified. The way words the were tumbling out of her mouth - brokenly
and barely coherent - was more frightening to him than anything she was
actually saying. Where had the calm demeanor and confidence gone? And,
more importantly, what had chased it away? "Breathe, okay, honey? And
maybe try to string the words into actual sentences."

"Jeff..."

"Hey, I’m serious here. If you don’t calm down-"

"We’re both screwed," the petite redhead finished for him, a small semblance
of calm beginning to settle over her. She took a few deep breaths, still
clearly trying to control her emotions. After a moment, she met his eyes
once more, and, though the fear was still there, she had obviously gotten
control of it. "Thanks, Jeff. I’m sorry about acting like that, it’s
just..."

"You got scared," the rainbow-haired young man said softly.

"You’d think I’d be over that by now," she muttered. "I guess... I just
didn’t expect this..."

"What exactly is this?" Jeff questioned, still trying to figure out just
what the hell was going on. "You never said..."

"The people who were hired to take us... They are just that - hired.
Nothing more than thugs... But while you were asleep, I woke up, and I heard
them talking..."

"And whatever you heard had you scared spitless."

"Something like that... I know who hired them, Jeff."

"Meaning?" he asked, his eyes still locked on hers. If she meant what he
thought she meant, then he was pretty damn sure that this private detective
job she had was far more dangerous then she had led him to believe. Of
course, given the way she had reacted to their being kidnapped in the first
place, he had already been leaning heavily towards that particular thought
anyway.

"I’ve... Angel Investigations has dealt with them... Many times, in fact."

"And who would *they* be?"

"Wolfram and Hart... A law firm out in Los Angeles."

"A law firm?"

"Yes, a law firm... You sound so surprised... And here I thought it was a
well-known fact that all lawyers are evil."

"Oh, yeah, definitely," Jeff replied. "In league with the devil and all
that crap."

"You have no idea," Willow muttered, then quickly continued her explanation
before the young man could question her about her comment. "Anyway, they’re
bad news... And they know exactly who I am... With what they’re looking for,
they won’t be content to let a bunch of flunkies handle it, you know?
They’ll... they’ll send someone out here to pick it up... or supervise...
whatever. And if that person sees me... We’re dead."

"I don’t understand... Why would a law firm... "

"Want me dead?" she asked when he trailed off. At his nod, she continued.
"Angel Investigations... Well, we’re not your normal PI firm, just as
Wolfram and Hart is far from the normal law firm. Some of our clients...
They come to us because they have nowhere else to go. And Wolfram and
Hart... Well, they cater to evil. Hell, they do more than cater to it, they
are evil. They frickin’ create it. And I - along with everyone else
involved with Angel Investigation - am on their hit list. You’d be killed
just for being with me."

"Look, Willow..." Jeff began, then trailed off when he heard the sound of
approaching voices.

"Oh, God," the redhead managed to gasp as the door flew open, her eyes wide
with alarm.

"Now listen here, you stupid, incompetent, morons... You’re supposed to get
the damn book, not the people who have it... or who you think have it. Now,
if you’d killed them while in the process of getting the book, then that
would be an entirely different matter. But, no, that isn’t what you did.
You merely grabbed a couple of kids that you think may have-- Well, hello
there," the professionally dressed woman said coolly, ending her tirade
towards Wolfram and Hart’s current hired idiots with a smile as her gaze
fell on Willow. "I should have known..."

"But you didn’t, did you?" the redhead returned, and Jeff could almost sense
the armor that seemed to go up around the young woman as she stared down the
lawyer. "You had no clue whatsoever, did you, Lilah? I guess that just
goes to show that you people don’t *quite* know everything."

"Well, I admit, I did think that you were still in LA, doing that whole
saving people thing," the woman said with a sigh. "Quite boring and
redundant, if you ask me. Bring her to me," Lilah instructed the thugs, and
they immediately headed towards the redhead.

"Don’t you dare touch her!" Jeff growled out, lashing out and nailing one of
the thugs with a foot to the face. However, due to his relative immobility,
he wasn’t able to prevent the men from unlocking Willow’s handcuffs and
dragging her towards Lilah with the redhead struggling all the way.

"Well, he’s certainly a feisty one, isn’t he?" Lilah asked with a grin.
"Wherever did you find him?"

"Kiss my ass, Lilah," Willow replied.

"Well, that was nasty. Of course, it’s completely understandable, seeing as
how you’re about to die... You do know that, don’t you? Oh, why am I even
asking that? Of course you know, because Lord knows you are not a dumb
girl. Quite intelligent, in fact. Too bad you had to use that intelligence
for the wrong people... Sometimes morals can be a bitch, can’t they?"

"How would you know? You don’t have any."

"Oh, very cute. Amusing, even. You would have been loved around the
office. If only you had joined us... We could have used someone like you-"

"Just like you could have used someone like me, huh?" a new voice said, and
Lilah whirled around to face the intruder. Well, more specifically,
intruders.

"Faith. I didn‘t expect to see you here," she said, her voice no longer as
full of confidence and her smile wavering just a bit.

"Lilah. Just the bitch I wanted to kill."

Part Twenty-One

Willow sensed the distraction in her captors, and she immediately lashed
out, nailing one of the men in the groin. Faith stifled a laugh as she
watched the man fall to his knees, clutching himself. Despite all the
training they’d had, sometimes the best move was the simplest. Without
giving the man holding her friend captive time to recover, the brunette
leapt forward, knocking him on his ass and away from Willow. However, the
other man still had hold of her, and he quickly yanked out a knife, holding
it to the redhead’s throat and causing everyone in the room to freeze.

"One wrong move..." he threatened, dragging Willow with him as he walked
backwards, intent on getting to the back exit. He’d heard the name Lilah
had called the brunette, and he knew exactly who this girl was... Faith was
dangerous, one of the most dangerous beings he knew of... The girl was
lethal.

"Oh, God," Jeff whispered, his eyes glued to the knife at the redhead’s
throat. How in the hell was Willow going to get out of this? And how in
the hell could he help when he was handcuffed to a freaking pipe?

"One step closer, and she’s dead," the thug who held Willow warned, inching
backwards a bit more.

"I don’t think you want to do that," Faith said coldly, her eyes flashing, a
satisfied smile beginning to curl on her lips.

"And just why is- Upmh!" The man’s question ended in a rather unintelligible
grunt as Chris Jericho nailed him from behind with a two-by-four, Edge
yanking Willow into his arms and to relative safety as the man fell to the
floor. As per Faith’s game plan, while Matt, Christian, and Lita had
entered with her, the other two men had entered from the back, hoping to
catch someone by surprise... and they certainly had.

Faith turned to Lilah. "Well, that was exciting. Got anything else for us,
or are you going to just accept the inevitable and give up?"

Lilah smirked, trying to show confidence that she didn’t really feel. She
knew that she and her people had Faith and... well, whoever the hell these
people were outnumbered, but that didn’t mean she could count the brunette
and company out. Faith sure as hell wasn’t the type to come to a fight
unprepared... And she wouldn’t bring people who were, either. However, the
lawyer wasn’t about to act like she was scared or uncertain. She knew that
showing fear would just put her at that much more of a disadvantage. So,
instead screaming, she sneered, turning to the men around her. "Get them,
boys." That said, she turned to Faith. "You’re going to regret ever coming
here."

"Oh, well, now, that was in no way cliched. What else you got for us?"
Faith asked as she nailed the man attempting to sneak up on her with a fist
to the face followed by a stomp to the groin. "We’ll be sorry we ever
messed with you? Come on, Lilah, you can do better than that... And I
would’ve thought you could hire thugs with better fighting skills, too," the
brunette continued, smirking as she spotted Lita almost nonchalantly beating
the living daylights out of one of the guys. She knew that like Christian
and the others, Lita was a wrestler, but still... The man she was fighting
was a lot bigger than she was, but he was still being pushed to the brink,
and Lita didn't even seem to be working all that hard...

Working furiously in an effort to free himself and get to Willow, Jeff
cursed as someone jumped up beside him, then relaxed when he saw that it was
Chris. "Damn it, Jericho, you scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry," the blonde Canadian muttered, not sounding the least bit contrite
as he pulled something out of his pocket and glanced towards the action. He
winced as Faith nailed one of the ‘bad guys‘ in the gut with a hammer,
feeling almost sympathetic given his own bruised ribs before reminding
himself that these assholes were just that... Assholes who deserved whatever
they got. Damn it, they’d kidnapped Willow and Jeff, and that bitch leader
of theirs had seemed intent on killing them... Sighing, Jericho turned his
attention back to Jeff and reached up to unlock the handcuffs that were
holding his friend immobile.

"Where the hell did you get the key?" Jeff exclaimed when he realized what
Y2J was doing.

"From the unconscious guy with the knife," Jericho muttered. "God, but it
felt good to hit that bastard."

Jeff winced at the unneeded reminder that Willow had been held at knifepoint
only minutes before... "Willow... Is she...?"

"Not a scratch on her," Jericho replied, knowing instantly that was what
Jeff was asking. "Edge and Matt will take care of her, though somehow I
don’t think that’s entirely necessary. She’s definitely... feisty, shall we
say?"

"Say whatever the hell you want, just get me the hell out of here!"

Having already easily taken down the only men who had dared come near her,
Faith eyed the fight going on around her, then looked over at Lilah, a smile
on her face. "You’re losing your men, you know. Those that aren’t getting
the crap kicked out of them are running away... What a leader you are," she
said silkily, almost stalking the female lawyer. The brunette’s eyes were
cold and hard, and the other woman knew that she was in big trouble.

"Stay away from me!" Lilah cried out, panic lacing her voice and penetrating
through the surrounding sounds of fighting, causing all those around her to
freeze.

Faith was well aware of the fact that all eyes were focused on her, and she
raised her eyebrows, stepping even closer to the woman she had grown to hate
so much. "Do they know about me, Lilah? Do they know who I am, what I‘m
capable of? Is that why they’re so afraid? Because I can feel their
fear... God, I can see it. Look at their faces... Your men are terrified of
me. It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so sad. Big, strong men, afraid
of little ol’ me. I look harmless enough. Of course, maybe they know that
looks can be deceiving."

"Faith..."

"Shut up, Lilah," she ordered, reaching into her jacket and pulling out a
wicked-looking knife, holding it up so that she could look at it. "Now
this... this looks pretty damn deadly... And I can assure you, it is."

"Faith, please..."

"Don’t even... You have caused so much pain to so many people... You deserve
whatever I do to you. Do you know how many people would *thank* me for
taking you out?"

Lilah was practically whimpering now, cowering in the corner, and she looked
to see if anyone would help her, but those that were supposed to be under
her control had either fled or were just standing there, staring. She was,
in effect, completely alone and at the mercy of this woman...

"Don’t do it, Faith," a soft voice said, and the brunette tensed as she felt
a hand descend on her shoulder, the touch firm but gentle.

"And just why shouldn’t I? She deserves-"

"Is that really up to you? Deciding who deserves what?" Christian asked,
knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to stop her if she really wanted
to take this woman out. There was something about Faith, something
powerful, and, though he didn’t know or understand what it was, he knew just
as well that it was there, and it was real. "Come on, Faith... Is she worth
it? Is revenge on this bitch worth ruining your life?"

He could feel her tensing, and he closed his eyes, dreading what was to come
when she began to move the hand that held the knife... And put it back in
her jacket.

"Come on," Faith said after a moment. "Let’s get out of here."


Part Twenty-Two

"Where did you get that knife?" Christian asked softly, his eyes trained on
Faith as she stood at the window of the hotel room they had shared just the
night before. The others had gone to different rooms upon arriving at the
hotel, so he and the brunette were alone.

"From a friend," Faith replied vaguely, thinking of the man who had given it
to her over two years before... The mayor of Sunnydale... At the time, she’d
thought he was a friend, and even now, she had to admit that he had seemed
to care about her, he’d thought of her as a daughter of sorts... Which would
have been nice to think about if he hadn’t been a sick and twisted weirdo
bent on world domination.

"Some friend," Christian muttered. "Why would a *friend* give you something
like that?"

Faith turned her head to glance at him for a moment, then looked back out of
the window. "You don’t understand my world, Christian. My world... It’s
not safe."

"That knife could easily be lethal."

"You think I don’t know that?" Faith asked, unconsciously touching her
abdomen, but Christian noticed the move.

"My God," he whispered. "That mark... that scar... it’s from that knife,
isn’t it? What happened, Faith? How did you manage to get stabbed with
your own knife?"

"I lost it," the brunette replied, thinking back, not exactly sure why she
was admitting this to him, knowing she didn’t really have to... No one, but
no one could force her to talk if she didn’t want to. Sighing softly, she
touched her hand to her abdomen again. "A ‘friend’ gave it back to me."

"And once again... Some friend."

Faith shrugged. "At the time, I deserved it." That said, she turned to
face Christian, not entirely sure she wanted to see the look in his eyes,
but knowing she was more than strong enough to take it. "You... You don’t
really know me... It would be impossible for you to understand me... I don’t
even understand myself."

"Maybe I know you better than you think," the blonde said, and Faith gave a
sharp laugh.

"And maybe you’re lying to yourself," she told him, then grew dead serious,
stepping closer to him and looking him straight in the eye. "I could have
killed her, Christian. I wanted to kill her... For everything she’s done.
To me, to my friends, to other people... I could have killed her for that...
I could have done it... So easily..."

"But you didn’t," he reminded her, not flinching or backing away from her.
"You didn’t kill her, Faith."

"I could have... And God help me, I wanted to. I wanted that bitch’s blood
to be on my hands."

"But you didn’t do it," he said again, enunciating each word carefully.

"I could-"

"Could have, would have, should have... Whatever, okay? The point is, Lilah
is still alive, and you are the reason she is."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Faith asked, a scowl on her
lovely face.

"I know you could have done it, Faith... You wanted to, I could tell. But
you didn’t. And you know what stopped you?"

"You did," she told him, and he shook his head, the corners of his lips
curling up just a tiny bit.

"No, I didn’t. You made the choice, Faith. Maybe I said don’t do it, but
it was still your choice. If you’d really wanted to, I couldn’t have
stopped you. Nothing I could have said or done would have changed your
mind, and Lilah would be dead instead of scared spitless and running back to
her boss."

"She really did deserve to die," the brunette grumbled.

"Yeah, well, that’s not your decision to make. You’re not God, Faith. And
Lilah... She’ll get hers someday, I’m sure."

"Maybe... Maybe not," Faith said with a sigh as she sat down on one of the
beds. "There isn’t always a happy ending, Christian. The good guy doesn’t
always prevail, and evil doesn’t always get punished. Sometimes the good
guy gets screwed over royally, and the bad guy walks free... I should know.
I mean, here I am... And trust me, Christian, I don’t belong."

"How can you say that? You’re not-"

"You don’t know me, Christian."

"Maybe I know you better than you think. I’ve watched you... These past
couple of days... You warn me away from you, you tell me you’re bad or
whatever... But I don’t see it, and I have been watching. All you gave a
damn about was getting Willow and Jeff back... You didn’t even know Jeff."

"But Willow-"

"You would have looked for Jeff even if Willow hadn’t have been missing."

"And you’re so damn sure about that?" Faith asked, not sure why she was
being so belligerent.

"Yes, I am. Face it, Faith. You’re not bad..."

"Yes, I-"

"Maybe you used to be... But now? If you were bad, or evil, or however you
want to put it, you would have left Willow and Jeff to the wolves... You
wouldn’t have even been out here in New York in the first place ‘cause you
sure as hell wouldn’t be working for a private investigator... And you
warned me away from you..."

"So? It was for-"

"My own good? Thank you, Steven Richards."

"What?" Faith asked, clearly confused, and Christian just shrugged.

"Don’t worry about it... Just a wrestling reference. The point is, if you
were really this bad, horrible person that you seem to think you are, then
you wouldn’t have tried to warn me about how bad and horrible you were..."

"And that is in no way contradictory," the brunette said with a snort.

"You know what I mean... You think you’re bad - hell, maybe you once were -
but you’re not... Not anymore, anyways."

"You sound like Willow."

"I’m not sure how I feel about that comparison," the Canadian said, and
Faith laughed sadly, then tired rubbed her hands over her face.

"This wasn’t supposed to happen."

"Willow and Jeff weren’t supposed to get kidnapped? Well, that’s news to-"

"I wasn’t supposed to meet you... I wasn’t supposed to care," Faith
interrupted, her voice sounding forlorn and half-exhausted.

"You weren’t - what?"

She looked up at him, a sad smile on her face. "You heard me. This whole
thing... It’s just a mess. Wills and I were supposed to get here, get the
book, and get gone..."

"Things don’t always work out as planned," Christian said as he sat down
beside her, a serious expression on his face.

"But it would have been a whole hell of a lot easier if it had... Less
painful, too."

"Painful?"

"Look at us, Christian. I mean... I care about you... More than I’ve cared
about a guy in a very long time... It could turn in to more... But I can’t
let it."

"Why not?"

"We’re in two different worlds, Christian. And you don’t belong in my world
any more than I belong in yours. We’re just two people who met... And have
to say goodbye."

"I don’t see-"

"Because you don’t want to," Faith told him, her eyes boring into his. Damn
it, she hated this. The one time she met a guy that she thought she might
really be able to fall for... And it was just all wrong. Deciding to give
into temptation just this once, she leaned over and kissed him, pressing her
lips to his, then pulled away, putting her hand on his unshaven cheek.
"Willow and I... We’re leaving tomorrow. We’ve got to get that book over to
Angel... We have to make sure it’s safe. I don’t have the information with
me, but I’ll leave the flight number at the desk, in case you want to come
and say goodbye..."

Christian watched as she stood up, obviously preparing to leave. "Faith,
wait..."

... But she was already out the door.

Part Twenty-Three

Willow carefully finished bandaging Jeff’s wrists, which had been rubbed raw
to the point of actually bleeding from his efforts to free himself during
their ordeal. "There. That should do it," she said as she completed her
task, then looked up at him. She bit her lip and stepped back, a bit
flustered by the intense expression on his face. "What? What is it?"

"How can you be this way?"

"What do you mean, ‘this way‘?" she asked, her voice more than a little
offended. "What 'way' would that be?"

"So calm... I mean, damn it, I’m still pretty weak in the knees because of
what happened, and you’re practically humming a merry tune while you’re
bandaging my wrists. And you were the one that was held at knifepoint back
there..."

"What? How would you have me act, Jeff? Would it make you feel better if I
fluttered around like an incompetent idiot and passed out or something? I
used to be that way... Well, kind of. But you know what? I couldn’t stay
that way and survive in my line of work, so I changed."

"Maybe you should have changed your line of work instead," he countered, and
she shook her head, exasperated.

"That’s not going to happen, okay... So don’t even go there."

"What you do is dangerous-"

"Same goes for you... You could take a header off the top turnbuckle or
something..."

"And you could get kidnapped and have a knife held to your throat... Oh,
wait, that actually happened. Geezus, you act like it was no big deal, like
it’s happened before or something..." Jeff trailed off as he took in the
expression on Willow’s face, the suddenly closed-off look that covered her
features as she turned away, and his jaw dropped open. "Oh, my God."

"What?" she asked as she turned to look at him, her expression still
guarded.

"It has happened before, hasn’t it? You‘ve been kidnapped and held at
knifepoint before."

"Not at the both at the same time. Well, actually..."

At those words, Jeff threw up his hands, clearly at a loss. "This is just
great... This is fantastic. God Lord, I don’t understand you. I mean...
You’re brilliant. You pretty much proved that while we were talking on the
plane to New York. And you’re only twenty years old... Shouldn’t you be in
college or something instead of running around risking your life? Couldn‘t
someone else be in the line of fire?"

"I am in college," she told him. "UCLA, actually. And tell me something
Jeff... If I didn’t do this... If I didn’t work for Angel... Then who would?
Who would do what I do? Because I’m telling you, somebody has to do it."

"Why does it have to be you?" he asked, his voice almost desperate, and she
smiled sadly at him.

"Because I know... I know what’s out there. I’ve seen the ‘dark side,’ or
whatever the hell you want to call it. I’ve seen what it does to people,
Jeff... Whether it’s hurting them, or sucking them in... Evil... It’s out
there, okay? And I just... Now that I’ve seen it, now that I know what’s
out there... I can’t just sit back and not do anything. If I didn’t do
something..."

"You wouldn’t be Willow," Jeff finished for her when she trailed off, and
she looked up at him. Biting his lip, the younger Hardy brother stepped
closer to her, reaching out to take her hands.

"No, I wouldn’t," she told him, flipping her hands over and entwining her
fingers with his. "Look, Jeff, you pretty much said it yourself... I’m not
stupid. I know the dangers in what I do. And I’m not going to lie and say
it doesn’t scare the hell out of me sometimes. Sometimes I wish it was
someone else out there dealing with people like Wolfram and Hart. Sometimes
I wish I didn’t know about the kind of crap that goes on out there... But I
do. And I couldn’t live with myself if I just turned a blind eye to it."

Jeff studied her face for a moment, taking in the expression there, and his
own expression saddened as a realization set in. "You’ve... you’ve lost
someone, haven’t you? Did... did Wolfram and Hart-"

"I... I have lost people," she answered after a moment, thinking of Jenny
and Kendra what seemed to be countless others... "Not to Wolfram and Hart,
though that’s not for a lack of their trying. Wolfram and Hart’s not the
only enemy I’ve made... And if that’s what you’re getting at, they are part
of the reason I work for Angel... I don’t want other people to go through
what I did... But I’m sure as hell not entirely noble... I want revenge; I
want people to pay for what they've done."

"And you don’t intend to change, do you?"

"Would you really want me to?" she asked, her brow raised.

"I don’t know... I want you safe, but I don’t want you to be a different
person."

"Nobody’s ever really ‘safe,’ Jeff. I learned that one a long time ago.
And God, this conversation is becoming a downer," she said before adding in
a whisper, "And it’s probably about to get worse."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" he asked, and, at the look Willow gave him,
he cursed softly. "You’re leaving, aren’t you? Going back to LA or
whatever... When?"

"Tomorrow," the redhead admitted softly.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because... because I need to be there. Faith and I... We got what we came
here for. And now... You saw what people will do to get their hands on that
book. Faith and I have to get it back to Los Angeles, and we have to do it
know. Wolfram and Hart’s going to know we have it, and they’re going to try
and take it. After everything... I can’t let that happen. So I’m leaving
tomorrow. This shouldn’t be all that surprising, Jeff. You knew I wasn’t
going to be around that long."

"That doesn’t mean I want you to go."

"But I have to," she told him before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to
his lips. When she finally pulled back, she lifted a hand to his face,
touching his cheek for a moment, then let it fall away. "I’m sorry... But I
have to go."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Jeff and Christian stood at the window, watching as the plane took to the
sky, both Willow and Faith on board. Christian took a slightly shaky breath
as he stood there, hating beyond anything that he hadn’t been able to do or
say anything to stop Faith from going. He’d certainly tried to when he’d
first arrived at the airport, but the look on her face had told him that it
was a lost cause. Sighing, he shook his head, then glanced over at Jeff,
who didn’t seem any happier than he did.

"We’re never going to see them again, are we?"

Jeff heard Christian’s words, and he shrugged, fingering the business card
he held in his hand, the business card he’d taken from Willow’s bag... Angel
Investigations... Complete with address, phone number, and fax number. The
WWF was sure to be back in LA before too long...

"You never know, Christian. You just never know."

The End