A week later Anton had been consulted and a reasonable set of parameters, arguments and possible compromises established.

The High Master, the Consort and the Destroyer traveled across to Interlaken by private car.

Both Xander and Connor enjoyed the trip immensely despite Spike’s intermittent complaints at their ooh-ing and aah-ing over the scenery. Due to the timing of the meeting and consequent drive, the Master Vampire was unfortunately condemned to the cover of a sunlight proof, purpose made ‘body tent’ on the back seat, for almost half the trip.

A coven representative greeted the car at the base of the mountain and directed the vehicle to a side entrance where there was shade from the sun, and another wiccan led them through a series of tunnels and into the meeting rooms.

The labyrinth of tunnels was best described as the entrance to a series of aircraft hanger sized catacombs, it was the perfect ‘neutral’ meeting place. The construction was one of many such structures dotted around Switzerland and generally buried deep in the mountainsides of the pretty Alps. Most of the man made caves were built in the early nineteen sixties and seventies as shelters for Swiss citizens in the case of nuclear war.

As the meeting place was owned by the powerful Interlaken Coven and often used to resolve matters of a ‘delicate’ nature amongst the magical community, it was strongly warded to protect negotiators from any outside attack. It was also accepted that diplomacy was the only way within the walls of the Coven’s ‘keep’ and all negotiations were monitored closely. Spike knew that even the Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart would be unwilling to risk attacking the meeting place. The High Master was confident of their safety – and so just past midnight, the three entered the meeting room.

Spike, Xander and Connor were directed to seats on the opposite side of an enormous boardroom table directly across from the two green demons and their interpreter. The aggrieved demons put their case with the young Fl’aath demon politely nodding to the interpreter as various points needed to be translated. Just as the ‘interpreter’ seemed to finish the last part of the statement, he surprised them all by rising and leveling what looked like an ornate walking at Connor, and uttered “desiderium ut vestri orsa” (regress to your beginnings). Spike and Xander saw the magical staff rise although Connor was slower, still focused on absorbing ‘the case’.

The youngest Aurelian was abruptly thrown from his chair by Spike and promptly covered by the High Master and his Consort just as a blinding flash of orange energy whizzed overhead. The flash rebounded from the ward – something none of the Wolfram and Hart people or the warlock had expected. Consequently the warlock was hit and instantly vaporized by his own power in a terrifying explosion.

Red energy engulfed the other side of the table and the two demons who had been negotiating on behalf of Fl’aath had apparently disappeared. Then as the energy hit the ward again behind the Aurelians it dissipated and instead showered them with golden sparks. Connor blinked as he took in the resulting bizarre scene.

…………………….

Connor had indeed been protected but despite the dissipation of most of the energy, the High Master and Consort bore the residual effects of a deadly regression spell designed to take the three - and in particular Connor - back to their newborn state. Had it worked, it would have rendered them all helpless and allowed Wolfram and Hart to complete their plan of raising Connor from birth as a perfect instrument for the Senior Partners.

Instead however two small boys were now draped over Connor in their original positions, almost completely engulfed by their own previously fitting clothes.

Connor sat up slowly allowing the two dazed youngsters time to move off him and recover also. He adjusted the leather coats on both of them then stood to look tentatively over to where the young demons had been. There were obviously two figures inside the clothing but instead of babies, when Connor lifted front of the jacket one of them had been wearing he found an egg around the size of an ostrich egg but soft to the touch. He found a similar thing on the other chair. Apparently the exploding warlock had corrupted the energy of the spell, leaving the poor demons with the unfortunate fate of being regressed to pre hatching. Connor carefully picked up the two mottled pale green items and gingerly wrapped them in one of their jackets. He then tied the bundle carefully to the end of a slightly charred warlock’s staff and placed it on the table.

Despite his years out of the ‘magical world, he remembered enough from the ‘before’ to know that identifying the staff and the spell might allow it to be reversed. Returning the eggs to the demon clan with a full explanation – and the closed circuit tape the coven was always so careful to take whenever mediation was occurred - would hopefully appease the clan and lead to discovering the origins of their ‘interpreter’.

Connor heard a whimper from one of the youngsters he’d left on the floor, so swiftly moved and dropped to his knees beside the two now teary eyed and terrified little boys, both hugging their respective leather coats desperately. Neither could have been more than four or five years old.

“Hey… Um… Are you OK… I think… Um…” Neither lad moved, instead both simply continued to stare wide eyed and breathe far too quickly, before giving simultaneous distressed whimpers and passing out. He checked their vital signs – belatedly realizing that the smaller blonde lad had a pulse, which in itself was a relief as it would make their lives easier if the youngster could walk in the sun.

Connor made a nest of the various bits of clothing before placing the two little boys in the centre and lifting the entire bundle. He paused briefly to pick up his second ‘prize’ before hurrying as fast as he dared toward the exit and the car, where their personal driver still waited patiently.

Seeing the young master with the two unconscious small human boys but no High Master or Consort, the driver did not immediately recognize the seriousness or urgency of the matter. It was only Connor’s state of panic as he gently lowered the two sleeping figures on the back seat and fastened a seat belt around both as best he could, then reached over to place an odd looking bundle on the front passenger seat, that clued the driver that something was dreadfully wrong. “Back to the Coven now – fast… And pass me the cell phone!”

………………………………

Connor rang Anton, the Interlaken Coven, then Willow en route. He unconsciously petted and adjusted the positions of his small charges. Whenever they stirred he broke his phone call to quietly encourage them to return to slumber.

Stopped outside the Coven headquarters in an ancient farmhouse on the western outskirts of Interlaken, the two adults alighted and carried their precious charges inside. Gently easing both now oversized t-shirt clad boys onto the High Mistress’s enormous bed, Connor settled them under the covers then placed their leather dusters over the top so they might wake to a familiar smell.

By the time he was happy the boys were settled, Anton was in the air and on his way. Willow was ready to take a conference call as soon as needed and would meet them back at their home if the situation did not resolve itself. And the Demon Clan leaders had agreed to an immediate meeting at the coven itself – being told of events via a series of digital images taken from the closed circuit footage. Anton was fluent enough in the Fl’aath language to act as interpreter – and was highly respected by the clan, despite his recent role in the Aurelian Court.

An hour later Connor had spoken to Anton briefly then departed to attend his charges, leaving the Immortal speaking quietly to the last of the Fl’aaths.

A little figure stirred. He approached the bed quietly, “Hi there… I’m Connor… I’m… Ummm… You were in an accident but you’re safe… You’re safe now.”

Connor could not help but compare the little blonde boy, to what he had always imagined ‘Christopher Robin’ might look like as the lad raised his head to reveal impossibly long lashes, framing enormous tear filled crystal blue eyes set in a pretty pixie-like face. The little fellow began in a frightened small voice but perfect upper class diction (and the occasional unintentional residual hiccup courtesy of crying). “My name is William, William um… [hic] I’m sorry sir [hic]  ohh…”

Connor stepped in “Aurelius?”

The little lad looked hopeful for a moment then his face fell, “Oh… I’m sure that’s not right [hic] Sir.  I’m William Bartlett…” He trailed off then blinked slowly, something about the man in front of him felt like he should know him, and he was in a big bed he did not recognize. He decided he must have bumped his head very hard when he fell from his tricycle this time, but wondered why Nanny wasn’t present. Perhaps she had gone to inform Mother. He did hope she wouldn’t be too cross at Nanny, or worse, tell Papa.

He didn’t mind being scolded by Nanny, but if Papa were to find out he would have to stand in front of Papa’s reading chair in the drawing room and wait until his father looked up from whatever he was reading. Then there would be that disappointed look again. He didn’t mind the sting of the two strikes of the cane, or even not have pudding for weeks, but the disappointed look was terrible.

Last time he had fallen, he tore the knee of his pants and skinned his leg, but Nanny told him she didn’t have to tell if he could be brave. Then she stitched his pants so well they looked just like new. She really was ever so nice, but where was she? He began to cry again.

Connor sat quietly watching all manner of emotions wash over the expressive little face and could smell the fear and worry. But when William began to sob once more, Connor threw caution to the wind and hauled the little fellow onto his lap and hugged him tight whispering nonsense words to the little lad until he calmed again. “Are you [hic] a doctor?”

Connor was about to answer when Xander stirred for the first time. As Xander’s chocolate ‘puppy dog’ eyes opened. Connor noted for the first time that Xander’s missing eye had been restored.

Xander blinked a few times then rolled onto his back, rubbing his right eye with a tiny fist before his expression turned to one of panic at the odd surroundings.

He managed a squeaked “Mommy?” before a louder wail “Mom?!!!” signaled the start of a flood of tears before the little boy flipped himself over and buried his face in the pillow

Connor gave William a small squeeze and whispered, “Will you be OK for a minute?” William nodded hesitantly, staring wide eyed at his brunette companion.

Connor slid off one side of the bed and rounded the other side of the classic design double four poster. He squatted down and reached out calmly with one hand, placing it on top of the covers and the leather coat and rubbing the little boy’s back in soothing circles until he felt him calm. The young man eased himself to sitting onto the bed beside the little fellow never once breaking the reassuring caress.

Finally Xander rolled enough to look fearfully at Connor and whisper, “Was I bad? Did they give me ‘way to v’ gypsies?”

Connor kept the back rub going and answered in the softest tone he could manage, “No sweetheart, you’ve um, your both just…”  Connor scrambled to come up with a plausible story that did not include inducing more panic in the little boys. “You were both um… sick… and your parents thought you should come for a holiday until you are quite rested and well, OK? I’m Connor by the way – and this little man next to you is William.”

Xander sat up a little and turned to William with a shy smile, then looked worried, paled completely and just had time to say, “I think I si…” before convulsing and rolling toward the outer edge of the bed while vomiting violently - mostly onto the rug on the floor below but some in the bed as well. There was little Connor could do but hold the boy’s clammy forehead until the storm passed then ignore the mess, scoop up the limp little body and carry him to the bathroom.

Connor propped Xander up beside the basin, cradling the boy’s upper body and head with his left arm and letting the legs dangle over the side of the bench. He was just in the process of wiping Xander’s face with a cool face washer, when a wide eyed little blonde appeared at the door. The straw blond curls, and over sized Tshirt (obviously being gripped and held up so as not to trip when walking), and rather forlorn look reinforced the Christopher Robin image.

Connor’s preternatural hearing was sometimes a blessing (though his oversensitive olfactory system was no advantage right now). He barely made out the terrified whisper, “Is he going to die??”

“No sweetheart he’ll be fine.”

“…baby Eliza got sick an’ she died.”

“He’s just got an upset tummy, he’ll be fine you’ll see. Tell you what, could you sit with Xander for a minute while I clean up in the bedroom.”

William seemed to rally to the suggestion that he might be useful and even smiled a little as Connor settled them both on a bath mat positioned so the little boys could lean against the wall. William put his arm around the much larger, still rather smelly, new friend and smoothed dark wet curls away from the other boys eyes with his other hand, like he remembered Nanny doing whenever he was ill. Xander relaxed into the small boy’s touch, too tired now to question who or why it felt nice, then pushed himself down until his head was in Spike’s lap.

Connor flew out of the bedroom, found two of the resident witches and arranged for new linen and the rug to be removed and laundered, then mopped the minor amount that had spilled onto the polished floor. He returned to the bathroom to the touching sight of William yawning widely, adjusting his sitting position a little, then carefully examining the boy snoozing on his lap with a look of genuine concern.

Connor eased Xander up and dressed him in a borrowed shirt (kindly offered by one of the smaller women in the coven) before thanking William for his help and carrying the brunette back to bed. He was just settling him again after a few sips of water when he spotted a set of blonde curls and small hand on the other side of the very tall bed. The little boy was attempting to scramble up but impeded by the need to keep one hand free for hitching up the too long Tshirt. Connor could smell the distress rising rapidly, so in a move of preternatural speed, rounded the bed and lifted the boy with an arm around his waist, and plonked him down on all fours with an over dramatic “Ummpff” that finally elicited a delighted giggle from William.

A soft knock on the door signaled the arrival of a young witch who rather shyly handed the handsome full blood Aurelian two soft toys. “We thought the boys might like these – they’re welcome to keep them if they like.”

William’s eyes lit up as he spied the beautiful brown teddy bear – so very plush and soft compared to his rather worn one at home. There was also a beautiful Panda – both toys wonderfully suited to cuddling.

Connor didn’t miss the expression of joy on the boy’s face, “Which one would you like William?”

“Oh… well… um” William was obviously enamored by the brown bear, yet paused and suddenly looked very serious. “I really think I should let Xander pick first, after all he has been very ill tonight.”

“Wow, that’s really nice of you,” Connor smiled at the blonde who was still eyeing off the brown bear but had obviously resigned himself to letting Xander have first pick.

Xander had been half asleep but opened his eyes to Connor standing at his side of the bed – bearing… bears. “William is giving you first pick Xander.”

Xander turned his head toward William and grateful brown eyes met blue as he said in a rather croaky voice, “I have always wanted a panda, if that’s OK?” William’s smile could not have been wider. The two little fellows needed no encouragement to snuggle down with their prizes firmly held and fall easily into slumber.

Connor left the room wishing he might just fall into bed with the two, so was utterly relieved to see Anton striding up the hallway toward him. The Immortal opened his arms and took Connor into a warm hug that almost had Connor in tears of exhaustion and relief.

“Sire… Thank you… thank you for coming.” Anton said not a word, instead he opened his wrist and offered it to Connor. At the first taste of the ambrosial fluid of family Connor sighed and relaxed a little then felt the incredible boost of energy that always came with the taking from an elder. Anton pulled his wrist away and Connor bared his neck as was expected.

“Thank you but I will wait my youngest, for now let us focus on the problem. I would see my altered Childer then the other information we have to assist us”

Connor turned and led the way back to the Mistress’ bedroom.