Set just after Chosen. Once again, I don't follow season 8 continuity. Willow and Kennedy are the property of Joss Whedon. The crossover characters were created by Susan Harris.

This is a Willow's Real Family fic.


"Thanks a lot, Sheila," Willow said as she slammed down the phone.

Kennedy, who'd just entered the room she and Willow shared, stopped abruptly. "Okay, should I come back later?"

"What? Oh, sorry, honey, not you. Just got some bad news from my 'mother.'" She did air quotes around the word mother.

Sitting down, Kennedy said, "Yeah, I got that when you tried to murder the phone. What's up?"

"Apparently," Willow said, still audibly angry, "Sheila and Ira Rosenberg have now decided that, at the age of 22, I'm old enough to understand where I came from."

"She tried to give you the sex talk?" Kennedy said, snorting. "'cause there are a few billion other people who need that advice way before you do."

Despite her irritation, Willow smiled briefly. "Back atcha, and thanks, but that's not what I meant. No. Apparently I was adopted."


"Yup. As in, Sheila and Ira Rosenberg aren't my natural parents. Knowing them, I'm half convinced they've been treating the last 22-plus years as one really long experiment. No, this was back when they just got out of college. Sheila --" and don't think Kennedy didn't notice that this was Willow's second pointed reference to her by her first name -- "Told me she found out that she couldn't have children, wanted one, and I fell into their laps. She's emailing me all the information."

"Did she tell you anything?" Kennedy asked.

"Only that I was born in New England somewhere. Apparently the birth mother set a condition for my adoption that I had to be relocated as far away as possible. Why, Sheila didn't know and didn't care. She was just happy she had someone to test her child-rearing theories on."

Kennedy knew better than to go there, but promised to herself that if she ever met Sheila or Ira Rosenberg that she would politely explain to them that they were in fact bad parents and bad people. She'd only hit them a couple of times.

Maybe three or four.

"So, right now . . .?"

"Right now," Willow said, "I'm waiting for the confirmation. And, oh, look, here it is." She looked over the records for a few moments. "The birth mother apparently left instructions that I could only be told her name after someone -- hey, isn't this the dictator?"

Kennedy looked over it. One of the few things she knew more about than Willow was world politics, though mostly from an economic standpoint, "Yup, that's him. Can't imagine two people with that name."

"Anyway, after he either died or was removed from power."

"Oh, I hope to hell he's not the father." Kennedy said.

Willow said earnestly, "Me too. Finding out my birth father was a dictator? Not in my top ten list of things to do. But it's not him, anyway. Thank the Goddess."

"Thank God," Kennedy added. "Still, is that why your mother didn't tell you? The condition?"

"No. They only couldn't mention who my birth parents were, not that I was adopted in the first place. And -- wow."


Willow said, "She was 50 when she gave birth to me. I don't think that's a record even for then but it's got to be darn close."

Then there was quiet for a few minutes while Willow studied the papers. Eventually, Kennedy asked, "So, are you going to meet her?" right as her girlfriend began doing a rapid internet search.

"That depends . . . yes. She's still alive."

"Was that a yes to 'you're going to go meet her'?" Kennedy asked.

"I'm not sure. What if she doesn't like me? What if she doesn't like lesbians? Or witches? Or redheads?"

"Then to hell with her," Kennedy said simply, getting up and giving Willow a quick squeeze.

"You always make it sound so easy."

"It usually is. And when it's not? That's what you've got me for."

Another period of silence while Willow studied the screen. Finally, she sighed, stood up, and said, "Let's go."


Standing outside a beautiful home in Dunn's River, Connecticut, Willow said aloud, "Last chance to change my mind. Last chance just to pretend I never learned any of this."

"Too late," Kennedy said, and rang the bell. When Willow glared at her, she said, "Well, you weren't going to do it anytime soon."

There was a muffled conversation inside the house, and then the door swung open.

The moment of truth was here.


And what had that conversation been? A familiar exchange between two old friends.

"You want me to get that?"

"If you don't mind."


So, who's on the other side of that door? Does Willow know? Does Kennedy know? Does Kennedy care? And are these 'old friends' people Willow wants to know? And what show does this story cross over with? These questions and many others will be answered in the next chapter of this fic!