Author: faolan228 PM
Season 1 happened as it did on the show. Everything after has been molded and reshaped to my lunacy. Moral ambiguity abounds. Lying is sometimes okay for the right reasons, and genocidal rage perfectly normal. AU W/T that may or may not be a comedy.Rated: Fiction M - English - Fantasy/Family - Tara M. - Chapters: 20 - Words: 37,651 - Reviews: 18 - Favs: 11 - Follows: 16 - Updated: 03-09-13 - Published: 08-07-11 - id: 7264060
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
AU like woah. It's mostly what I'd imagine a re-boot of the series to be like, though for the most part, season one was pretty much the same. Everything afterwards I melded and transformed into some giant cluster-fuck that we'll all figure out as we go along. I am making this up as we go along, folks.
W/T definitely. Other pairings will...Fluctuate.
Chapter One (A Slayer contemplates her life choices, and an interlude with witchy, Watcher young'uns)
It was on nights like these, Faith decided, that a Slayer felt truly alive.
Sure, the nights where one was up against a whole nest of 30 vamps were exhilarating, and a wild chase through the sewers got the blood pumping, but this.
This was a hunt.
It was primal, this act of tracking down the enemy, the prey, in the darkness. No worrying about random bystanders, no distractions, no rushing flurry to win. The knowledge that both huntress-Slayer-and prey had an equal chance of taking one another out, this simple act of stealth and tracking, one that began with thousands of years ago with a single girl from the desert and would continue hundreds of years from now with a simple young thief.
A Slayer, prowling in the darkness.
Or, at least, Faith prowled. Buffy kinda just power walked through the place like she owned it.
Eh, whatever. Different stroked for different folks or some shit like that. Besides, Faith supposed the older Slayer had earned that right, taking out the Master and all.
Heh. The Master. Faith's old Watcher had always creamed her little British britches over that Doctor Who show.
…well damn. Now she had gone and made herself sad again.
Kendra, the Slayer who was called after Buffy's not-quite death, had been killed in New Mexico on her way to Sunnydale. As a result of that unprecedented chupacabra attack, Faith had been called. She and her Watcher immediately hauled ass to get to the Hellmouth.
And then her Watcher got eaten in Texas.
Jesus fuck, she hadn't even known Bigfoots were real.
And why the fuck were they even on that state's endangered species list?
And the Council claims there's no Hellmouth in the southern states.
That was over several months ago. There had been some posturing at first. The world wasn't meant for two Slayers and a pissing contest was inevitable. But soon a mutual respect was formed and the two had even learned to share a Watcher. Sure, Faith still had some issues to work through, but Red hooked her up and now she had weekly therapy sessions with one of the Rosenbergs' colleagues who thankfully, was all in on what really went on in SunnyD.
And all that led to now. The two Slayers power walking and prowling in the dark, looking for some sneaky-ass demon with lightning powers. The thing had been sapping energy from the local power plant, causing blackouts, and frying small children and puppies.
And Faith liked puppies, dammit. And she was pretty sure Buffy did too.
Tough chicks like Faith were allowed to get all soft over puppies. It wasn't like kittens. Getting caught cooing over those was grounds for mockery. But puppies grew into dogs, which were like wolves that obeyed you and that was five-by-fi-
When the lightning demon grabbed the dark haired Slayer by the throat and pumped her full of electricity, her first thought was, surprisingly, 'Don't tase me, bro!'
Stupid Willow and her stupid viral videos.
And then her heart stopped beating.
A Brief Interlude
13 years ago
"Tamara, come here!"
The sandy haired little girl in question rushed to her mother, clasping her hand tightly. Still, wide blue eyes took in everything around her with the same curiosity found in all five year olds.
Well, okay. Four and a half.
But Tamara was a big girl now, either way. She knew because Mama said so. She'd said it a lot, since several days earlier, when Elizabeth had come to her daughter in the middle of the night and took them both away from Daddy's house.
Daddy was mean. It was always his house, never their home.
But now Tamara could forget about Daddy's house. Now they had a castle.
Every little girl's dream, of course. All the way across the ocean. Tamara knew, of course, because she saw it out of the window in the big plane. SWOOSH!
Tamara loved to look. To listen. To watch. Even now, as she watched her Mama talk to the man who picked them up from the airport and took them to this castle. From what she gathered, he was a friend of her Mama's from when she was Tamara's age.
What Tamara did not know was that not only Jack Tiler a childhood friend of Elizabeth's, he was also a member of one of the only organizations in the world willing to take in a homeless, jobless witch with a young daughter.
The Watcher's Council.
Not that Jack had double motives, oh no. He'd have taken Liz and her daughter in no questions asked, regardless. But, at least this way, Liz could get paid doing what she loved and her kid could get some training, too. Putting on his best smile, he offered his hand to the little girl as Liz watched on approvingly.
"Hello there, I'm Jack!" The little girl took his hand and smiled up at him, a little lopsided thing that made Jack think, 'Most definitely Liz's child.'
"You gotta funny accent!" the child exclaimed in delight.
"And you look just like your mum! Shall I call you mini-Liz, then?"
The little girl seemed to smile even brighter now, the grin now accompanied by an arched brow.