Magic In Numbers by Elisabeth

Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Joss et al. and Scott Free.
Distribution: Willow's Dragony Dreams: http://www.dragonydreams.com/
The Mystic Muse: http://mysticmuse.net
Spoilers: Post-Chosen.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Author's Note: Thanks to Angel's Kuupio, Emmy and KallieRose for all of your help and handholding. BtVS: Okay, so in order to make this story work, I had to play around with storylines a bit since this takes place Post-Chosen, in LA. Basically, Angel didn't take over Wolfram & Hart, he killed Connor and Cordelia died in her coma. The rest comes out in the story. Numb3rs: Takes place mid-season 2, after 'Mind Games' but before 'All's Fair'.
Pairing: Willow/Other

Summary: The FBI is called in when teenaged girls go missing, who just happen to be new slayers.

Don Eppes slipped his sunglasses into the pocket of his blazer as he walked towards the apartment complex. His eyes idly followed the pretty redhead that was coming from the building, heading to her car. He squinted against the mid-day sun, forcing himself to re-focus on the case at hand.

He glanced to his right, noticing that Megan looked just about as excited as he was to have pulled this assignment.

"Never am, but that hasn't stopped me yet," she answered, ringing the doorbell of the apartment they'd stopped in front of.

A haggard-looking woman opened the door, brushing a loose piece of hair from her face. "May I help you? This really isn't a good time."

"Mrs. Stewart? My name is Don Eppes, this is Megan Reeves, and we're from the FBI. Could we have a moment of your time?"

"Not yet," Megan answered. "We'd like to ask you some questions about her disappearance, though."

They followed her inside the poorly lit apartment. Dust motes floated in a shaft of light peeking through the parted curtains, trying to dispel the gloominess of the room.

"Ma'am, we just have a few questions regarding Casey's disappearance. Now, according to the police report, you said that Casey didn't come home from school yesterday. Is that correct?"

"Y-yes. She's supposed to take the bus home after cheerleading practice and then start her homework when she gets in."

"City bus. Anyway, when I got home from work last night, she wasn't here. I thought that maybe she'd just gone to one of her friends' houses without telling me. She does that sometimes, no matter how often I've asked her not to..."

"Well, I'm going to need a list of her friends, so that we can talk to them," Don said.

"Can you think of anyone at all who would want to harm her, you or your husband?"

"Have you been contacted at all?" Megan asked. "Have there been any ransom demands?"

"Not yet. Is that bad? That's bad, isn't it? There should have been some kind of demand. Unless she's already dead!"

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Megan said, trying to stave off a panic attack.

A small smile lit up Mrs. Stewart's face. "Yes. That's from the cheerleading semi-finals. They came in second place that night."

"That's five girls missing in Los Angeles County in a week," Megan said, looking over the board of victims.

"What is it about these girls?" Colby asked. "There doesn't seem to be any connection between them. They all go to different schools, no two identical after school activities, all different races. Heck, one girl isn't even here legally."

"Oh, nothing. Dad wanted me to see if you were going to be coming by for dinner tonight. Said something about you not eating enough. So what's all this?"

"I can see that," Charlie agreed, looking over the information on each of the girls on the board. "Would you like me to take a look at their files? I can run a comparative analysis to see if any patterns appear that you may have missed. Give me what you have on the girls and I'll see what I can link together."

Charlie rushed into the meeting room, where everyone was gathered to discuss what they'd found on the missing girls, or lack thereof.

"You found a link?" Megan asked, excited by the prospect that they'd found a break.

Charlie quickly pulled up a web page on his laptop as he connected it to the projection machine.

"The Summers School for Girls?" David Sinclair read. "But none of the girls go there."

"Not yet," Charlie agreed, "but they have all recently been recruited to go there."

"All of them?" Don asked, coming closer to look at the information on the screen.

"But we've been to their schools and these girls are all in different grades and academic achievement. I know that at least one girl is failing most of her classes."

"And not all of these families would be able to pay for a private school," David added.

"They wouldn't have to," Charlie said. "While it is a private school, run by a Mr. Xander Harris, the upkeep of the school is paid for by private donations. The girls' families don't have to pay a cent."

"Right." Someone entered the room and handed Don a piece of paper before he could continue. "Colby, David, you go talk to this Harris guy, see if the school's on the up and up. Megan, you're with me. Another girl's gone missing."

"And I'll keep looking for other possible links," Charlie said to their retreating backs.

"Do you really think that a school could be involved with these kidnappings?" Megan asked Don as they approached the house.

"I certainly hope not, but it's the only thing that we have to go on at this point. It can't just be a coincidence that all five--"

"Hopefully Mrs. Bennett will be able to tell us more about it," Megan said, ringing the doorbell.

The door opened and a young woman, a redhead, nearly collided with the FBI agents, as she was half turned towards Mrs. Bennett.

"I promise," the redhead was saying, giving Mrs. Bennett's hand a squeeze. "I'll be in touch if we hear anything. Oh, excuse me," she exclaimed upon seeing Don and Megan blocking her path.

"Willow Rosenberg. And you are?" she returned, a bit taken aback by the accusation in his tone.

"Don Eppes, FBI," he said, flashing his badge. "The Bureau didn't say anything about someone already covering this case." He glanced to Megan for confirmation.

"Interfering? I'm not interfering. I had some business with the Bennetts and they called me when their daughter disappeared."

"The Summers School for Girls." Don's voice was clearly accusing her of being associated with their prime suspect.

Her eyes widened in surprise that the FBI had heard of the school. "In that case, yes. I am from the school."

"Because as of right now, you're our number one suspect in the kidnapping of six girls," Don answered, escorting her towards his car.

"This is a school?" Colby rhetorically asked, stepping out of David's car and staring up at what appeared to be an old hotel.

"According to the school's website, it used to be the Hyperion hotel. It went out of business after a rash of murders in the Fifties. At least until a few years ago when a PI firm, Angel Investigations, bought it and used it as their base of operations. Then they just offered up the building to be used as the school," David supplied.

"What, they just handed over their headquarters to a bunch of schoolgirls?" Colby questioned.

"Something like that, I guess. Maybe we can find out how that transaction happened when we get inside," David suggested, wondering if the school was some kind of front for something seedier involving the girls.

"Hello," a young blond man said from behind the former-registration desk. "Welcome to the Summers School for Girls. My name is Andrew. How may I be of service?"

Colby showed his badge as David said, "FBI. We're looking to speak with a Xander Harris. Can you point us towards his office?"

"Holy mother of Chris Carter," Andrew whispered under his breath, eyes widening in surprise and excitement. "Xander didn't do anything wrong. He's a good man and a fine administrator."

"Look," Colby said, "he's not in any trouble. We just have some questions to ask him."

He came out from behind the desk and led them to the adjoining office. Knocking on the closed door, he said, "Xander, there are some men from the FBI here to see you."

"You may proceed," Andrew said, standing back after opening the door with a flourish.

"Xander Harris?" David asked, stepping the room and approaching the desk. He tried not to show his surprise at the man's eye patch.

"Yes, I'm Xander Harris. What can I do for you?" Xander gestured to the chairs in front of his desk, silently inviting them to sit.

"We just have some questions for you about some missing girls," David said. He pulled out photos of the kidnapped girls and set them on the desk. "Do you recognize any of these girls?"

Xander looked over the photos, worried that one of the new slayers had been killed while patrolling on her own, without supervision. He internally breathed a sigh of relief when none of the faces struck a bell.

"That's funny," Colby said. "Because all five of these girls received letters of admission from this school. They also all happen to have been kidnapped in the last several days."

Xander sat back in his chair. "That explains it. I only interact with current students. Willow's in charge of Admissions. If these girls haven't started here yet, then I wouldn't have met them." Sitting forward again, he looked over the photos more carefully. "I know that she's been busy lately meeting with families in the area. It's possible that these girls have all been invited to enroll here."

"Invited?" David questioned. "You said 'invited to enroll here'. Anyone can't get in?"

Xander shook his head. "We created this school to educate girls with very specific abilities."

"And what abilities would those be?" Colby asked. "From what we can tell, these girls have nothing in common, aside from an invitation to attend this school. They didn't know each other. They're all from different parts of LA. All in different grades at varying levels of academic success."

Xander hated this part of the job. It's why Willow was in charge of Admissions and he was in charge of Student Relations. She was just better at lying. And wasn't that just too funny for words, considering how bad she had been at it as a teenager.

"I know that it may not be obvious to the naked eye, no pun intended, but these girls are very special. We have developed tests to evaluate the girls and we offer them the best possible education to make the most of their abilities," Xander said.

"Who exactly pays for this specialized education?" David asked. "According to your website, the girls don't pay to attend the school."

"We have several private investors, most notably David Nabbit. And just because we don't charge for tuition, doesn't mean that the families don't contribute. We hold fundraisers and the families, if they're able, can contribute that way. Most of them are eager to help finance their daughters' education."

"Oh, he and Angel go way back. Angel's the one who gave us the hotel to use. He told Mr. Nabbit about what we were doing here and he was only too happy to give us the financing we needed to fix the hotel up and turn it into a school. And believe me, it needed a lot of work. Most of the rooms on the upper floors were uninhabitable when we took over and major structural work needed to be done before we could even think about taking girls in. Then we had to turn the conference rooms into classrooms and get the industrial kitchen back in working order. It took us close to a year to get the building ready, but now the girls, and most of the staff live and work here."

"Where can we find Willow?" David asked. "If she's the one meeting with families, we'll need to speak with her."

"Hang on a sec." Xander pressed a button on his phone. "Andrew, can you come in here? And bring Willow's schedule."

Andrew came bustling into the room. "Here you go, Mr. Harris," he said, handing over the print out.

"It looks like she's meeting with a prospective student's family right now, but she should be back later this afternoon. Would you like to wait? Or you can always make an appointment with Andrew for another day."

Colby's phone rang before they had a chance to respond. Answering it, he said, "Granger ... Really? ... We're on our way."

He hung up the phone and said, "Never mind, we won't be needing an appointment." Turning to David he said, "Willow was at the house of the sixth victim. Don and Megan are bringing her in."

"Shit," Xander said soon as the door closed behind the FBI agents. "Andrew, call the others, even Angel. Tell him to bring Lindsey. But don't tell them why."

Half an hour later Buffy, Robin, Angel and Lindsey were gathered in the lobby, wondering why Xander had called them here in the middle of the day.

"Look, I'm just going to cut to the chase. I just had a visit from the FBI about the missing slayers. Apparently they've taken Willow in for questioning."

Lindsey managed to make himself heard above the rest. "I should get down to FBI headquarters. Make sure Willow has her legal representation. I don't want her saying anything that will get her, or us, into trouble."

"Thank you. That's why I called you here," Xander said with relief. "I've never been happier to have you on our team."

"My pleasure. Angel, I'll see you at home later," Lindsey said. "I better run and change into a suit first though."

"Wear the black one with the pinstripes. You always look great in stripes," Angel said, mentally picturing his lover in that suit.

"You're just jealous," Lindsey said as he headed for the door, blowing Xander a kiss.

"Xander, leave them alone," Buffy admonished her friend. "If I can take my ex living with another man, so can you. Just remember, if Lindsey hadn't changed his wicked ways and gone to work with Angel, we wouldn't have him around to go help Willow with the FBI."

"Well, they know that six girls have been kidnapped. Unfortunately, we're the primary suspects since the only link they can find between the girls is a letter from us inviting them to enroll here."

"And the Feds automatically assumed that we have something to do with it," Angel guessed with a groan.

"They have every reason to be suspicious," Robin pointed out. "It's not like we can tell the Feds that we run a school for slayers. They'd never believe us."

"Tell me about it. You should have seen the looks on their faces as I tried to explain that we're a school for girls with special abilities, despite the fact that these girls appear completely ordinary."

"Do you know if Willow's had any luck figuring out who's been taking the girls?" Buffy asked.

"Or maybe they're following her," Angel suggested. "What if they're somehow tracking her movements and taking the girls whose homes Willow visits?"

"That's a good possibility," Buffy agreed. "After all, Willow is her own locator spell to finding these girls. I doubt that any psychic the kidnappers have would be half as good at finding the new slayers as Willow, what with her having that ability to sense every slayer that she activated."

"They're all new, untrained, slayers," Buffy stated. "Obviously they want them for something. But what? Ransom? To build their own slayer army?" She stopped her pacing. "You don't think it's the First again?"

"No," Robin said. "Going after the slayers wouldn't do the First any good. There's too many of them now. It's lost."

"I told you," Willow calmly stated, "Mrs. Bennett called me after her daughter was kidnapped."

"Why would she call you at all?" Megan asked. "What did she think that you could do?"

"She knew that her daughter was special. It's why I had been there before to try to get Madelyn to attend the school," Willow said.

"Is that how you go about getting families to agree to send their girls to your school at no cost?" Don asked, accusingly. "You kidnap them and then once the families agree that it's safer for them at the school, they agree to send them?"

"What!?" Willow exclaimed. "No. Not at all. Why would we need to kidnap the girls if we don't charge tuition? It's not like we'd need a ransom in the form of money. That's not what we're about."

A knock at the door interrupted Don's rebuttal. Colby opened the door, saying, "Sorry to interrupt, but this man says he's Ms. Rosenberg's attorney."

"Someone from the school probably called him, seeing as how we were there when you called about bringing her in," Colby said.

Addressing Lindsey, Don said, "Look, I'm sorry you came down here, but your services aren't required."

"Maybe not yet, but I think that I'd like to sit in while you're interviewing my client, just in case," Lindsey said.

As soon as the agents had left the room, Lindsey sat next to Willow. "How're you holding up?"

"A couple of guys from here were talking to Xander about the kidnapped girls when they found out you were being brought here. He called a meeting. The others are still there trying to figure out what's going on. They sent me to make sure you didn't put your foot in your mouth," he said with a wink.

"I need to get out of here, Lindsey," Willow said. "I can't do anything to find the girls if I'm being questioned about their disappearance. They think we had something to do with it!"

"What? Lindsey, they're human, all of them. How can I offer to let them help when the girls' disappearances most likely have to do with the fact that they're slayers?" She whispered the last part.

"We're never going to get them off our backs if they think we're suspects," he explained. "By offering to help figure out who may have taken them, they'll ease up on watching us, and we can keep working on tracking down the missing girls. And hopefully stop more from being taken."

While Lindsey and Willow were talking, Charlie wandered into the observation room, where the others were congregated.

"The redhead is Willow Rosenberg and the guy is her attorney, Lindsey McDonald," Don answered.

"And you think she had something to do with it?" Charlie asked in disbelief. "She looks upset."

"I think you were right before, Charlie," Don said. "That school is definitely involved in this somehow. This isn't the first time I've seen her at a victim's house. I'm pretty sure we saw her leaving the Stewarts' apartment complex yesterday."

"And I think she arrived at the Anderson place the day before that as we were leaving," David said.

Lindsey appeared at the door to the observation room. "Willow would like to speak with you," he said.

Charlie followed Don and Lindsey back into the interrogation room. Lindsey moved to stand behind Willow. "My client has agreed to help you in any way that she can without compromising the school."

Willow looked up from studying her fingernails and gasped when she saw Charlie. All eyes turned to her. "You're Charlie Eppes," she said in surprise.

Charlie took a step forward, wondering how the pretty young woman knew who he was. She didn't look familiar, after all. "Yes, I am. Have we met before?"

"No," Willow said, shaking her head. "I'm familiar with your work though. I've been reading articles you've written for years, for fun. I've also attended some of your lectures at CalSci when the timing has been right."

"Nope, computer science nerd at heart, but that doesn't mean that I don't have a healthy appreciation for applied mathematics," she said.

"If I could interrupt this love fest," Don said, "you were about to help us try to find six kidnapped girls."

"Why don't you start by telling us why your school was interested in these girls," Don suggested.

"I've developed a program to scan for certain abilities in girls based on their school records," Willow said, nervously.

"How so?" Charlie asked. "I've been over the school records for all of the missing girls, and I didn't see anything, academically or otherwise, that would make them stand out."

Willow swore under her breath. While that line generally worked on the mundane public, she'd forgotten that it probably wouldn't fly with a mathematical genius like Charlie Eppes.

Lindsey saved her by asking, "Does it really matter how these girls came to our attention?"

"I'm sorry, but it does. If there's something about these girls that's making them a target, then we need to know about it. You've admitted that they're special in some way. If your school isn't involved in their disappearance, then someone else must know about this specialty and is trying to exploit the girls because of it."

Charlie pulled Don into the hallway. "Why don't you let me try talking with Willow alone," he suggested.

"Don't tell me you didn't notice how she was practically bouncing at meeting you," Don teased his brother. He constantly marveled at how oblivious Charlie was to women.

"Only on an intellectual level," Charlie insisted. "But do you think that will help?"

"Her clear infatuation with you? I don't see why not," Don said. "Who knows, maybe you'll even get lucky."

"Don't be absurd," Charlie protested. "Not only would it be unethical, it would be..."

Charlie crossed his arms over his chest, defensively. "That's none of your business."

Don chuckled. "Let's see how that answer changes after this investigation. Alright, go charm the pants off her," he said with a wink.

Charlie paced for a minute outside the interrogation room before successfully putting aside Don's wild notions and returning to speak with Willow.

"Well, technically, you're not under arrest. And I'm not an FBI agent, so there's no real reason why we can't have a meal together."

"Perhaps. I'm not trying to trick you into giving anything away. I promise," Charlie said.

"I'm a big girl, Lindsey. I think that I can decide whether or not I want to have dinner with someone." Turning back to Charlie, she said, "Which I'd love to do."

"I know, I know," Willow cut him off. "I'll be careful. But c'mon Lindsey, he's Charlie Eppes. Charlie Eppes asked me out for dinner. Did you really expect me to say no?"

"Frankly, I'd never heard of him before. And since when did you swing that way?" he teased.

"Swing? There's no swinging. I mean, yes, he's attractive in a scholarly, drool-worthy way, but that doesn't mean that there's been swinging over here."

"Really? And when's the last time you went out on a date with a woman?" Lindsey asked.

"You know that I haven't dated anyone since Kennedy and I broke up before she left for Brazil," Willow said.

"Careful, or I'll tell Angel you were checking out the guys at the FBI," Willow said.

"Yes. Do you mind if we go get my car first? I wasn't allowed to drive it here," Willow said.

"So tell me," Charlie began, after placing their orders with the waiter, "how are you locating these girls?"

Willow nervously shifted in her chair, unsure of how to get around his questions without giving away the truth. She was dealing with a man of science, after all.

"Oh, you know, the usual way. I created a data mining program that was distributed to the schools in the area, which is set to single out students that meet our criteria," Willow said with a shrug.

"C'mon, you don't need to dumb things down with me," Charlie pressed. "I've been over the files on these girls and aside from a slight increase in physical altercations, I haven't been able to find any reason that these girls would be 'special', let alone singled out to attend a school for 'special' girls. Besides, your students aren't just from this area. They're from all over the world."

"Trust me, you don't want to know the real way that I found these girls," Willow muttered.

"Why is that? Is it something so simple that I'm overlooking it?" Charlie asked.

"No, it's rather the opposite," Willow admitted. "Believe me, it's not something that you, as a scientist, would consider."

Willow took a deep breath, trying to decide if she should tell him the truth. She knew that he'd never leave it alone now that his curiosity had been piqued. She was the same way when faced with a mystery.

"Don't be absurd," Charlie refuted. "Magic is nothing more than sleight of hand and optical illusions. It's as fantastical as a grown man thinking that he is psychic. And what does that have to do with finding the girls?"

"I'm not talking about magic tricks. Those are for amateurs. I'm talking about spiritual, natural magick."

Charlie laughed. "You're trying to tell me that you used magick to find the girls?"

"Yes. I used a locator spell to find each of the girls that attend the school," she evenly said.

"Come on," Charlie said, still laughing. "If you don't want to tell me what your data mining criteria are, then don't. You don't need to make up fanciful stories to keep your secret."

Willow sighed. "This is why I didn't want to get involved with the Feds," she mumbled. "No belief in the supernatural."

"They aren't delusions. I am a witch, a good one mind you, but a witch nonetheless," Willow calmly stated.

"Great, next you're going to tell me you fly around on a broomstick at night," Charlie joked.

Willow paused as the waiter brought their food, before responding, altering her tactics. "You know, I used to think that way too. Magick, witches, demons, vampires - they were just stories told to children to scare them into being good. Sometimes I wish that I hadn't learned the truth. But it's real. All of it. There are forces in the world bigger and scarier than you can imagine."

"Oh, I believe that there is evil in the world. I've been working with the FBI long enough to know that," Charlie said.

"Human evil is nothing compared to some of the things that I've faced," Willow said. "But you're not just going to take my word for it, are you? Of course not. You need to see what I'm talking about for yourself."

"Then let me show you that you're wrong," Willow offered. "Come with me after dinner and I'll show you why my prospective students are being kidnapped. Then maybe you'll all let me get back to trying to find them."

"You think that you can find the missing girls, all by yourself?" Charlie asked in disbelief.

"By myself? No. But with my friends, absolutely," Willow said with a definitive nod of her head.

Willow carefully walked through the cemetery, with Charlie a few steps behind her. She knew that Buffy was bringing a group of students here to stop a couple of newly risen vamps from getting much farther than their graves' surface.

"You brought me to a cemetery?" Charlie asked, noisily trying to keep up with Willow.

"Yes, vampires," Willow agreed. "Just be quiet, I know that they're around here somewhere." She paused as she heard the sounds of fighting a little off to the right. "This way."

Charlie was helpless but to follow her as she took off towards the sounds of a fight. What he saw when they found it had him stumbling back to lean against a tree. There were four girls fighting in hand-to-hand combat against five people with grossly disfigured faces. He stared in disbelief as a blonde girl, a little older than the others, thrust a piece of wood into the heart of the man she was fighting and he exploded into dust.

He blinked. His eyes must be playing tricks on him. But when he focused on the fight again, another of the disfigured men turned to dust. Then another.

He was so enthralled with the fight that he didn't hear anyone coming up behind him. Too late, he found himself being yanked around to face one of these...things...in the unnaturally yellow eyes.

"Willow," he yelled, before a very strong hand was around his throat, cutting off his air supply.

He did. A second later a bright light flew past his ear and the hand was suddenly gone. He collapsed to the ground, coughing as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Vampire," she simply stated. "And I threw a fireball at him, and he went poof."

"What are you people?" Charlie asked, wide-eyed, taking in the girls standing a short distance behind Willow.

"Well, as I said at the restaurant, I'm a witch. They," Willow said, gesturing behind her, "are slayers."

"I think that I'm just going to..." Charlie passed out before he could finish speaking.

"Well, that went well," Buffy said, looking down at the unconscious mathematician. "What were you thinking bringing him here, Willow? He could have been killed."

"I know, but he needed to see for himself," Willow said. "I know his type. He wasn't going to let up until he knew the truth. Even if it wasn't a truth he wanted to know."

"So you could have taken him to the school and asked Angel to go all grr for him. He wouldn't have liked it, but he'd do it before putting an innocent in harms way."

Willow shook her head. "Charlie still wouldn't have believed it if it was just Angel. He needed to see all of it. Don't worry; I know what I'm doing. Now, can you help me get him back to the school?"

"If you just wanted to get him into your bed, I'm sure there was an easier way," Buffy chided her friend.

Buffy laughed as she bent down and picked Charlie up, placing him over her shoulder in a fireman's carry. "Hey, I'm not knocking your choice. He's a hottie."

"Isn't he though," Willow sighed, then coughed. "I mean, for a man. A very intelligent man."

With a chuckle still in her voice, Buffy turned back to face the junior slayers. "Come on. Time to get back and report on a successful mission. Great job, girls. And as Willow was so kind to demonstrate, it's not a good idea to bring your date to scheduled slayage. It's one thing if you're out and get attacked, but it's not a good idea to pick up your date on the way to wait for vamps to rise. Got it?"

The three newbies all nodded their heads with smiles on their faces at how uncomfortable Ms. Rosenberg looked.

Charlie opened his eyes slowly. He glanced around the unfamiliar room, wondering how he got there. Then he felt the bed dip and looked up to find Willow sitting next to him.

"Where am I?" Charlie asked, slowly sitting up. His head hurt a bit, but he managed to sit back against the headboard.

"Um, this is my room, at the school," Willow said, a faint blush tinting her cheeks.

Charlie raised a hand to the back of his head, feeling a slight bump from when he'd passed out. "How did I get here?" he distractedly asked.

"I don't know how much you remember, but you passed out after the fight, so we brought you home with us."

"Fight?" Charlie quietly questioned, furiously trying to remember what had happened. In a flash he saw the fight in the cemetery, the vampires, dust, fireball, then nothing. "You're a witch," he said, meeting Willow's eyes.

"I think that I must have hit my head really hard," Charlie said. "It can't be real. It just can't."

"Why not?" Willow asked, giving in to the urge to brush the hair away from his face.

"I really don't like using magick for frivolous things, but for your sake..." Willow took a centering breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them she met Charlie's eyes.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. Then he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw a wooden hairbrush floating towards the bed. He scrambled back, away from it. "How are you doing that?"

The brush stopped, hovering in front of him. "I telekinetically lifted it off of the dresser and brought it to the bed. Go ahead and take it. Feel the air around it, if you'd like. No strings are attached."

Charlie slowly raised one hand and moved it around the brush. Nothing. He lifted his other hand and moved them in alternating patterns around the suspended brush. Finally he wrapped his hand around the handle and was able to pick it up. He noticed that Willow had relaxed her shoulders, now that she wasn't keeping the brush levitated. He dropped it to the bed.

"No. They are slayers; girls born to fight vampires, demons and the forces of darkness. That is what this school is for. We find the girls destined to be slayers and we bring them here to teach them about their powers. We teach them how to fight and how to survive."

"We currently have 300 students at this school, but we aren't the only one. There are so many slayers now that we have another school in Cleveland and one in London. But this was the first, and largest," Willow said.

Willow raised an eyebrow in surprise. "They are. Until two years ago there was only one; well, two, but that was due to other circumstances. Traditionally there has only been one; one girl in all the world who was destined to become The Slayer. When one slayer died the next was called, which is how we had two, because Buffy was resuscitated after she drowned, but her momentary death still activated the next slayer."

"Um, I did," Willow admitted. "We were fighting an enemy greater than anything we'd ever faced before. It was trying to wipe out the slayer line so that there would be no one left to fight evil. I did a spell, the biggest of my life, and I activated all of the potential slayers. Now we're in the process of tracking them all down and bringing them to one of the schools to teach them."

"No wonder I couldn't find anything with my analyses," Charlie said. "This isn't something that would show up on any records. On anything that I could track."

"Exactly," Willow agreed. "Since I was the one who activated them, I have a small link to each and every slayer out there. Through meditation, I am able to concentrate on one link at a time and locate the girls. It's a long process though. And exhausting."

"Not yet," Willow said. "I tried after the first girl was taken, but whomever kidnapped her must have her in a protected place. Like she's in a vacuum. I can't reach her. And I just haven't had the time to try again. I doubt that my luck will change any though, if the girls are being kept in a warded space."

"I don't think so. Except maybe keep your brother off my back. As I'm sure you've noticed, this really isn't a matter for the FBI. We'll be able to find the girls faster if we are able to use all of our contacts. We believe that someone is after the untrained slayers for some greater purpose. Maybe to train them to fight against us. We're the good guys, after all."

"I'll see what I can do, but Don doesn't give up easily. He may take my advice when it comes to math, but I doubt that he'll back off on investigating the school simply because I asked. You're right; I can't tell him about this being a school for slayers. He'll never believe it. I'm not even sure that I fully believe it. But I do believe that you believe all of this, and I'm willing to risk believing in you."

"Thank you so much," Willow gushed. Before she could think about it, she pulled Charlie into a hug then pulled back enough to give him a quick kiss on the lips.

Charlie was stunned. He'd automatically wrapped his arms around Willow when she hugged him, but then she kissed him. Granted it was just a friendly peck, but it had been so long! He met her eyes and despite her embarrassment, he thought he saw desire too.

Maybe Don was right, maybe she was interested in him a little, as a man, and not just a man of science. Keeping eye contact, he slowly leaned in again. He waited for her to pull back, for any sign that she didn't want this. Instead he only felt her breathing increase the closer he got, until he pressed his lips against hers again, kissing her in earnest.

Willow couldn't believe it. She was kissing a man. And not just any man; she was kissing Charlie Eppes! On her bed, no less. Her hands slid up his back to run through his long, curly hair. She held his head as she kissed him back, eagerly parting her lips when she'd felt his tongue tentatively seek entrance.

As Charlie rolled Willow onto her back, still kissing her, he marveled at his actions. He could hardly believe that he was being so forward, making out with a girl that he'd just met, when he'd been dancing around Amita for years, working up the nerve to ask her out. Yet here he was, lying on a virtual stranger's bed, kissing her like he couldn't get enough of her. Which, frankly, he couldn't.

When they paused for breath, Charlie wonderingly asked, "Am I under your spell?"

"No," Willow answered, tracing his face with her fingers. "This is simple physical attraction; hormones and pheromones doing what they do best. Do you not want this?" she nervously asked.

"Oh, I want this. More than I should," Charlie said. "This is just so unlike me."

"D-do you want to?" Charlie nervously asked her. His body was practically vibrating with the lust he felt for Willow.

Willow ran her eyes along his body, causing Charlie to flush slightly under her heated gaze. "Most definitely," she breathily answered.

Charlie swallowed hard, all of the blood in his body rushing south at the desire he heard in her voice. He leaned back in and passionately kissed her. Their bodies shifted on the bed so that he was lying partially on top of her, letting her feel how much he wanted her.

Willow gasped at the press of his erection against her hip. The sound was caught by his mouth, and she began to work at the buttons on his shirt. Once he was free of the shirt, Charlie broke the kiss only long enough to pull his undershirt over his head, before reclaiming Willow's mouth.

Charlie groaned at the feeling of Willow's silk blouse rubbing against his bare chest. Knowing that her skin would feel even better, he set about removing the soft material. Willow sat up enough to help him slip the garment off of her, removing her bra herself, before lying back down.

Charlie's eyes dropped to the two perfect breasts staring up at him. Moving on instinct, he leaned down to kiss each puckering nipple, drawing one into his mouth. Willow's sigh was all the encouragement that he needed.

It wasn't until he felt Willow's hands trying to open his belt that he had a sudden realization. Sitting back, he blurted out, "I don't have anything."

"Protection. I don't have anything. I never expected this to happen..." he said.

Willow's eyes widened in realization. "Oh! I don't have anything either. I haven't had a male lover in a long time now," she dejectedly admitted. "Wait!"

Willow closed her eyes, a look of intense concentration falling over her face. With an audible pop a box of condoms dropped onto the bed. She opened her eyes and grinned.

"Where did those come from? You didn't steal them, did you?" Charlie asked suspiciously.

"They're, um, Xander's. I'll buy him new ones. He'd have given them to me if I'd asked, but this way I don't have to get dressed again," Willow said, grinning.

"That's definitely a good thing," Charlie had to agree, reaching for Willow's skirt. "I'm starting to like this magick thing."

Willow giggled. "In circumstances like this, it certainly is handy." Returning to opening Charlie's pants, Willow slipped a hand inside, circling his erection. "Hey Charlie?"

Charlie strolled into the FBI offices, a dopey grin on his face. He and Willow had spent the night making love. He'd woken late this morning to find himself spooned behind her warm, naked body.

Don looked up at Megan's question and noticed that Charlie was still in the same clothes. They were a little dirty and rumpled, but definitely the same. Realization dawned on his face and before Charlie could answer, he said, "You spent the night with her. The redhead."

"Her name is Willow," Charlie reminded him. "And not that it's any of your business, but yes, I did."

"Can we not talk about my personal life, please?" Charlie asked, clearly uncomfortable having his sex life be a topic of discussion.

"It's just that we so rarely have the opportunity," Don joked. At Charlie's pained expression, he relented. "Fine, have it your way. So what did you find out?"

"I thought the point of taking her out last night was to try to get some information from her," Don pointed out.

"So you think that just because you slept with a suspect that she's now off the hook?" Don asked. "Sorry, brother, but it doesn't work like that."

"She isn't involved in the kidnappings. She took me to the school and explained some things to me and I believe her. She wants to find the girls as much as we do," Charlie said.

"There really isn't anything that she can do. The methodology that she used to find the girls in the first place won't work now, as they are no longer in their own homes," Charlie pointed out.

"She wasn't able to give you any information about who might be after these girls?" Don doubtfully asked.

Willow walked into the staff room with a silly grin on her face. She felt fantastic, a little sore, but so happy.

She didn't even notice the others until Buffy began to sing, "Willow and Charlie sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

"Willow's right," Xander said, crossing the room to her side. "It was much more than kissing."

He leaned over to whisper in her ear, "I believe that you owe me something from last night."

Willow felt her blush deepen. "I hope you don't mind, but we were kinda desperate. I'll pay you back."

He chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad someone had use of them." He gave her a quick hug before returning to his seat.

"Tell him about what?" Willow asked, still recovering from being put on the spot.

"Oh, that. I told him the truth," Willow said, moving to grab a muffin from the snack table.

Exclamations of surprise assaulted her as she took her usual seat at the table. Finally she had to wave her hands to get everyone to stop talking.

"What was I supposed to say after he saw the slayage last night?" Willow countered. "He's not FBI even though he sometimes works with them. He won't tell them the truth. He's going to try to get them to back off so that we can find the girls."

"You don't honestly believe that the Feds are going to back off, do you?" Angel asked.

"I said he's going to try. I didn't say that he'd succeed. Look, I know what it means to have exposed us like that, but I trust him. He's a mathematician, a man of logic and science. He needed to see with his own eyes what this school was about and why I couldn't be more honest with the FBI. I'm hoping that they'll believe it when he says that there isn't anything more that I can do. Now, have we had any luck in figuring out who is taking the girls?"

Everyone was quiet for a moment before Angel admitted, "No. I've checked with all of my regular contacts and no one seems to have heard about anyone collecting slayers."

"Same here," Buffy said. "No one's admitting to having any knowledge about what's happening."

"I need to try the locator spell again. I've gotten items from each of the families who have had girls taken, so I'm hoping that will make the spell stronger. I have a feeling that they're being kept in a warded room somewhere, and if that's the case, then the spell won't go anywhere."

"It would depend on the ward. We wouldn't want to accidentally make it stronger by using the wrong deactivation spell," Willow said, shaking her head.

"Angel actually had an idea about how they're finding the girls," Xander said. All eyes turned to him. At Angel's go-ahead gesture he continued. "What if they're not tracking the slayers per se, but they're tracking you, Willow. I mean, face it, all anyone who is after untrained slayers would have to do is see who you're visiting to recruit. Then bam, kidnapped slayer."

"Is there a way to check to see if you are being tracked some way?" Buffy asked Willow.

After thinking for a minute, Willow said, "I haven't noticed that I've been tailed by anybody. Then again, I also wasn't looking for a tail."

"Well, something long and hairy should be pretty obvious to most people." Xander's joke was met with resounding groans.

"Those are usually pretty hard to detect. I've never heard of the person being sought knowing they were trying to be located."

Buffy nodded. "We could send Willow with her arsenal of materials to a home of our choosing. Then when they go to kidnap the daughter, they'll find one of us instead."

"But we can't use one of the students. For one thing, they're not ready for something like that. The kidnappers would also probably already know who all of the students are."

"Oh, I think that I have the perfect girl in mind," Buffy said. "Will, think you could manage to get us a little professional back up?"

"So, you and Charlie, huh?" Colby asked as he and Willow sat at the dining room table of the sting house.

"Uh, yeah," Willow said, blushing, as she always seemed to do when someone mentioned her and Charlie.

"Really," he confirmed. "Are you going to tell me what's really so special about the school?"

"No. I know that I'm not carrying a bug, and I doubt that the people who are following me would be able to hear what we're saying. Just look like you're looking over the information and agreeing to send your daughter to the school."

"No, usually I actually tell them about our program," Willow said. "But that's because it's where their daughters should be. Your 'daughter' wouldn't exactly fit in, but they don't need to know that."

Colby stood, gathering the materials spread out on the table and set them in a neat pile. Then he escorted Willow to the door.

He clearly said, "Thank you Ms. Rosenberg. I'll look over the materials with my daughter and let you know if she's interested later this week."

"How'd it go?" Charlie asked, looking up from the papers he was grading. He leaned over to give her a kiss.

"Don't know yet. That was the easy part. Now we have to see if they take the bait," Willow said, pulling out of the driveway. She studiously ignored the van sitting a short distance up the street as she drove past.

Around midnight, Don noticed movement across the street. He checked the monitors and was able to make out three people dressed all in black silently approaching the house.

"Copy that," Colby quietly said, keeping his eyes on the television in front of him. He was glad that his part of this assignment at least let him watch the game tonight. It was difficult though, resisting the urge to get up and patrol the house. He knew that 'his daughter' was protected in her room, but he still felt a little left out of the action.

A minute later Colby heard a thud coming from upstairs followed by a loud, "Dad!"

He was up like a shot, running towards the commotion. He turned on the light as he entered the bedroom, stepping over the body still convulsing with shocks from the taser. Gun raised, he stated, "FBI. Step away from the girl."

The black-clothed figure pushed the girl into Colby's arms as he dived out the window.

"Don'll get him. My job is to keep you safe. Nice work with the taser," he said.

"C'mon, let's get this guy down to the van for questioning," Colby said, pulling out his handcuffs.

While he knelt to cuff the unconscious man, he missed the figure come up behind Dawn, close one hand over her mouth and the other around her waist, and pull her from the room. She tried to call out, but the sound was muffled by the thick black-gloved hand.

Colby turned back around, saying, "All set," when he saw that Dawn wasn't there. Cautiously he stood, raising his gun again, and stepped out into the hallway. "Dawn," he called out. He was answered by silence. "Dawn, honey, this isn't funny." He heard the front door open and close and ran for the stairs.

By the time he got outside, Dawn was standing on the front stoop and her kidnapper was lying on the ground with a broken nose.

Buffy was standing next to him and Colby heard her say, "Nobody gets away with attacking my sister."

Don and David came up from around the side of the house, dragging the man who had jumped out the window with them.

Buffy knelt next to the man with the bloody nose. "Who do you work for?" she demanded, hitting him again.

"I need to know," she insisted. "These men are kidnapping girls, my potential students, I want to know why."

"We all want to know why," Don agreed. "But in order for it to be legal, I need to take them in to headquarters."

"What did you want with the girl?" Don asked, for what felt like the tenth time.

"I already told you," the man sitting at the table said, his voice distorted from Buffy breaking his nose, "I don't know what they wanted with her."

"And who are 'they'?" Colby asked. He turned around the chair on the other side of the table and straddled it.

"I. Don't. Know." The kidnapper enunciated. "I just do what I'm told. I don't ask for details and I don't care. It's none of my business who they are or what they want the girls for."

"Girls?" Don questioned. "So you admit that you were involved in the other kidnappings?"

"How's it going in there?" Lindsey asked, joining Buffy, Willow and Charlie in the observation room.

"Jerk's not talking," Buffy said. "I tried to get them to let me do the questioning, but they have some rule against using physical violence to get people to talk."

"Buffy, you know that a coerced confession isn't admissible in court," Lindsey pointed out.

"I know. But I also want answers. We're so close to finding out where the girls are. You know how much I hate waiting."

"Looks like you're going to be waiting a little longer," Don said, entering the room. "He's asking for his lawyer."

"Nah, he's already got one coming from Wolfram & Hart. They're on their way," Don said.

"You could say that," Lindsey said. "I used to work for them, a long time ago. Bet you anything that these guys work for them."

"Of course," Willow groaned. "I don't know why we didn't think of it before. It makes perfect sense for Wolfram & Hart to want to kidnap the sl-- girls."

"Why's that?" Don asked, suspicious of this new information. "What would a bunch of lawyers want with a group of teenagers?"

Willow glanced at Charlie, knowing he would understand why they were lying to his brother. "Let's just say that we've had problems with them before. They are probably interested in using the abilities our girls possess, and not in a nice way."

"You still haven't told me what is so special about these girls," Don pointed out.

"Can you trust me that it doesn't really matter?" Charlie requested. "If Willow is right, then we know where the girls are. Or at least the people who know where they are."

Just then, David knocked on the door. "Sorry to interrupt, but there's a Gail Pendleton here to see the kidnappers. She says she represents all of them."

"Thanks, David. I'll be right out," Don said. Turning back to the others he said, "When this is over you are going to tell me everything." Then he left without giving them a chance to respond.

Charlie took Willow's hand and gave it a squeeze of reassurance. "You're probably going to have to tell him. Stubbornness is kind of a family trait."

"Yeah, I figured. We'll find a way to tell him as much as he needs to know," Willow assured him. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss before they refocused their attention on the interrogation room.

"My client has already told you that he isn't able to tell you who his employer is," Gail was saying when Don entered the room.

"Sure," the guy smirked. "Took 'em to a safe house in Glendale. But I doubt that they're still there. My employers aren't that dumb."

"I, uh," the guy dared a glance at his lawyer, but Gail's face was a mask. "Well, I don't know who they are by name, but I'm guessing that if they're smart enough not to do the dirty work themselves, they wouldn't leave the girls at the drop spot."

"Forgive us if we don't take your word for it," Don said, dropping a notepad and pen in front of the kidnapper. "I want the address of anywhere you delivered a kidnapped girl."

"The kids aren't there," Lindsey said. "No way Ms. Pendleton would have let him give out that information if they were."

"But we can at least go check it out," Colby said from behind them. "If we can verify that the girls were there, it'll give us something to go on."

"I can also use that information to try to predict the most likely place that the girls are being kept," Charlie offered.

Willow and Charlie sat in her car across the street from the house Charlie was certain the girls were being held in. They watched as the team of FBI agents advanced on the house, bulletproof vests in place and guns raised.

"Can you sense anything?" Charlie asked, still doubtful that she could 'sense' the location of another person.

Willow concentrated and a small smile spread across her face. "It's faint, but it's there. This is it. There are wards in place to shield the girls from detection, but with so many in one place, it's strengthened their combined signal."

"What? Do you want to play magical Marco Polo?" Willow teasingly asked. "You go out in the city and I'll sit at home with a map and a locator spell, then call you on your cell to tell you where you are."

"And how would I know that you're not just hooked up to a GPS monitoring system?" Charlie teased back.

"I suppose you're just going to have to take my word for it," Willow said, grinning. She leaned over to kiss Charlie and he eagerly kissed her back.

The shout of "Open up, FBI" coming over the police radio sent them jumping apart.

"The girls are going to be frightened. They'll need to see a familiar face, and that'll be me," Willow said.

No sooner than he spoke several confirmations of "Clear" came over the radio. Willow grinned and hopped out of the car, running towards the house.

"I need to assure them that it's really safe," she replied, moving into the room where six teenaged girls were huddled together.

"It's okay, it's over," she assured them. "Come on, we're going to take you home."

Slowly, they got up and one by one they gave her a hug. She had to quietly remind some of them, "Careful, remember your strength."

"We'll talk about that later," Willow said, nervously eyeing Don, who was watching her closely.

The last girl was just leaving with her parents, after having agreed to come to a meeting with the other kidnapped girls at the school the following day.

"So what was that comment Madelyn Bennett made to you back at the house?" Don asked Willow. "About them being taken because of their strength?"

Charlie stepped in and said, "Upon reexamination of the data, it would appear that I had missed the fact that these girls have all shown an increased level of strength in their physicals recently. It would appear that they all have a genetic trait that enhances certain characteristics - strength, agility, balance, etc."

"And that's what your school specializes in?" Don doubtfully asked. "Strong girls?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Willow agreed, grateful for Charlie's quick thinking. "In a regular educational environment, the girls can accidentally hurt their classmates due to this inborn additional strength. By attending a school where everyone has this same...ability...they are safer; not only from harming others, but also from getting into trouble for such accidental actions."

"Uh huh, right," Don reluctantly acknowledged, still not sure he believed her. "Well, good luck with that."

Don left the room to return to his desk, but Charlie caught up with him just outside the door. "Will you be coming over for dinner tonight?" he asked.

"No reason. It's just that I'm going to bring Willow over, to meet Dad," Charlie said.

"I really like her, Don," Charlie said. "So please, now that this case is over, go easy on her."

Charlie went back to where Willow was waiting for him. "You ready to get out of here?"

"Not yet," Willow answered, looping her arm through his. "Why? You asking me out?"

"Well, I, uh, I was, um, hoping that you'd like to come back to my house, for dinner," Charlie nervously suggested.

"I'd love to," Willow said, loving the idea of them being alone for the evening.

"Great. That's great. I can't wait for you to meet my dad," Charlie said, stepping onto the elevator.

"Technically, he lives with me. I bought the house from him last year, but we both still live there. Don will most likely be joining us too. Is that okay?"

"If you'd rather go out, we can do that," Charlie suggested, seeing her disappointment.

"No, I'd love to meet your dad," Willow said. "Besides, it'll be a nice change, eating in a real house."

"And what about the possibility of sleeping in one?" Charlie hesitantly asked, hoping he wasn't being too forward.

"Have I ever mentioned that I am an excellent card player?" Charlie asked as they walked out of the building.

Main What's New Fiction by Author Fiction by Pairing eBooks

Subject Index Submissions Gallery Forums Links Awards Contact Us

If you find problems on these pages please email your host.

Magic In Numbers

by Elisabeth

Copyright © 2007

dragonydreams@yahoo.com