A/N: Hey guys, sorry about the wait. I’m at my parent’s house at the moment...my little brother had a stroke on Saturday night, so we’re spending as much time with him as possible. Hope you like the chapter, thanks for reading, please review! Love xx Shezzi
“Hold onto the strap, you two, or I’ll break out the leash,” Willow told the twins as she wheeled slowly along the corridor, the children walking beside her, chattering to each other in their own special language. They both moved closer, clutching the handles built into the leather strap on the side of her chair, muttering at the mention of the leash, an invention that they hated with a passion.
They reached the sidewalk, and were approached by a tall brunette woman, who smiled gently at them. “Miss Rosenberg? I’m detective Olivia Benson; I’ll be giving the three of you a ride to the station today.”
“Can I see some ID please?”asked Willow, taking the offered badge and card when Olivia pulled it out, studying it carefully before handing it back, having performed a small cantrip to confirm its authenticity. “Thank you. Ok, you two, this is it,” she smiled at the twins, who were staring shyly at Olivia.
Olivia, seeing the looks she was getting, crouched down and smiled calmly at the twins. “Hello, you must be Meghen and Reece, your mummy told me all about you,” she told them, and they relaxed ever so slightly, although she didn’t know that this was because they had identified her scent as human and not because she had made herself unthreatening and friendly.
“Here’s the car,” Olivia said, pointing out the black sedan parked in a disabled space a few doors down. “Do you need...”
“Just get the twins in, I’ll take care of myself,” Willow said, smiling her thanks for the thoughtfulness, however unnecessary. She carefully wheeled herself to the front passenger side, positioning herself behind the door to open it, then moving up and swinging back the arm of the chair to slide herself across into the car. She did up her seatbelt as Olivia took the wheelchair and folded it into the boot, marvelling at how lightweight it was.
Olivia slipped into the driver’s seat, having double checked that the twins were securely fastened in the booster seats in the back of her car, grateful Elliot had been able to dig them out of his garage in the thirty minutes he spent at home last night.
“What are they saying?”she asked Willow softly, as the twins babbled to each other in the back seat.
“I have no idea,” Willow admitted softly. “I know a few words, but their language is really incredibly complex, and the grammar rules...they tried to explain it to me once. I didn’t get it.”
“I’ve heard of ‘Twin’,” Olivia replied, nodding. “Are they learning English as well?”
“Of course, and Gaelic,” Willow replied. “Although I think their parents would rather they wouldn’t pick up on that one, because it makes it much harder to have secret parental discussions.”
“Not many people speak Gaelic anymore, do they?”asked Olivia, curious.
“In Ireland they do,” replied Willow. “And Liam may not have much of an Irish accent, but he’s old school Irish.” ‘You have no idea just how old school’, she thought to herself.
“That makes sense,” agreed Olivia before turning her attention fully to the road in front of her, needing to pay attention to navigate the traffic.
Soon, they were at the station, the twins ensconced in the play room with a friendly Asian man, who settled them down at a table with so many crayons it wasn’t funny, and started them drawing pictures.
Willow wheeled herself through the station, her gloved hands turning the wheels as she skilfully avoided people who seemed not to notice anything below their own head height.
Soon, she was down in the squad room, sitting opposite Olivia and Elliot.
“So, Mr O’Connor told us you’d only just moved to New York?”asked Elliot.
“That was because of me,” Willow explained. “I do freelance work for several different software companies, as well as a couple of government contracts, and being in New York made me nice and accessible if any face to face meetings were required. I’m not exactly the ‘jump on a plane and make a meeting across country’ type of person” she added, gesturing to the chair.
“Mr O’Connor intimated that Mrs O’Connor had some enemies, can you explain that?” asked Olivia, curious.
Willow frowned thoughtfully as she tried to decide how to phrase her answer. “Buffy’s enemies are...sort of hereditary, I guess,” she said slowly. “There were a lot of people who were bitter about her surviving Sunnydale when hardly anyone else did, and stuff...look, detectives, I really don’t know what to tell you. The most we normally have to do is keep ourselves unlisted, to avoid the phone calls and hate mail,” ‘and go out and kill the evil things every night’, she added silently.
“So, you don’t have any idea who could have done this?” asked Elliot, watching her closely.
Willow flinched slightly, because she knew exactly who had done this to Buffy, courtesy of a call from Angel, and she had spent the last few hours making charms and scrying for locations. “Honestly, it’s hard to know. Some of the letters were fairly brutal, but...” she shrugged, hoping she hadn’t laid it on too thick or thin.
“Were any of those letters signed?”
“No. And we had no idea how they kept tracking us from town to town, either. They haven’t found us here, and hopefully won’t,” Willow replied, shrugging one shoulder. She wasn’t lying; the letters had been brutally explicit in their descriptions of exactly what they would do to Buffy and her ‘demon spawn’ if they ever caught up, but it didn’t make sense that they were sending them using blood magic but didn’t use the same magic to simply track her down unless that just wasn’t what they were interested in. It was Willow’s opinion that whoever it was sending the letters simply enjoyed causing them pain, and wasn’t actually interested in taking them on.
“Do you still have any of them? Did you notice if they all had the same postmark?”
“No. Not long after we started getting them, we could identify them from the outside of the envelope, so we just started destroying them without ever opening them. We just wanted our privacy, so we chose not to come to the police. I see now that that was a mistake.”
Reading the honest distress in Willow’s face, Olivia reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. Willow smiled slightly at her, then withdrew her hand, laying it in her lap.
Before they could say anything else, Willow’s cell phone started to ring. With an apologetic glance at the detectives, who waved for her to take the call, she answered it.
“Angel? How is she? Are you sure...ok, we’ll see you at home. Yes, I’m still at the station; the twins are in the kiddie interrogation room here playing with the toys. No, Angel, they are not interrogating your children, I just couldn’t find anyone to take them at such short notice. They’re fine; they’re drawing or something. Anyway, we’ll see you two at home soon.” She closed the phone and slipped it back into her bag, turning back to the detectives.
“They’re leaving the hospital?” asked Elliot, frowning. “She was in no state...”
“Buffy hates hospitals,” Willow told him. “She’s doing well enough to get out, as far as she’s concerned, so she’s getting out.” ‘And not a moment too soon, because if the Slayer heals her much more she’ll end up as someone’s labrat.’ “So if we could get a lift home, that would be really good,” she told the two detectives.
“Sure, we were pretty much done here anyway,” Elliot allowed. “We may ring you with some follow up questions, though.”
“That’s fine,” Willow replied as she pulled her chair away from the table. “Oh, just out of curiousity, how are the new computer programs treating you?”she asked, glancing at the various consoles around the room. “I don’t often get a chance to ask anyone who’s actually on the other end of the production line how it works out.”
“You’re responsible for the new upgrades?”asked Olivia, curious.
“I wrote a fair bit of the code, is all,” Willow demurred. “But I heard it was being installed in the local precincts...so how’s it going?”
“It’s fantastic. Hardly any of those little bugs that often come hand in hand with new tech,” Elliot told her.
“Good to know. Now, I should get the twins and we should head home,” Willow said. “They’re anxious to see their parents.”
“Of course,” agreed the two officers. Willow followed Olivia back through the station to the small room where the twins were now sitting playing with blocks, chattering to each other and blithely ignoring the rather flummoxed looking Asian man who had been left in charge of them.
Seeing Willow, he slipped out of the room, leaving the twins to their game for a moment. “Do they speak anything other than their own language?”he asked, frowning slightly.
“Oh, they didn’t,” Willow groaned. “The whole time?”
He nodded, and Willow sighed. “Just a moment,” she said, opening the door. “Meghen! Reece! Come here, please!”
“Ooops, busted,” said Reece to Meghen in Twin, one of the sentences that Willow clearly understood.
“You’re darn right you’re busted, mister. Now, you can just apologise to...I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
“George Huang,” the man replied, and Willow nodded before turning back to the twins.
“To Mr. Huang for being so rude. In English. You know the rules.”
“We’re sorry,” the two of them said together, blushing and looking at their feet. “We know we’re not meant to exclude other people.”
“That’s quite alright,” the FBI profiler told them, smiling gently.
“Okay guys, it’s time to go home. Da’s bringing mummy home now,” Willow told them, and they cheered.
“’illow, get mummy ice cream?”asked Meghen.
“We’ll see, baby girl. Mummy might not quite be up for ice cream yet, but if she is, we’ll go to Mrs. Richards and buy some for her, alright?” Willow combed her fingers through the little girl’s dark hair, oblivious to the humorous looks being directed at them.
“Come on, I’ll give you a lift,” Olivia told them, and the twins happily took hold of the strap on the wheelchair, following the two adults down the hall and out to the car.