Author: Knight.of.Ink PM
When a Slayer is called a year later than expected and refuses her training, seemingly poised on the edge of that dark abyss, who better to bring her back than the Dark Slayer herself? Rating may change later.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Supernatural - Faith L. & Quinn F. - Chapters: 4 - Words: 3,256 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 15 - Updated: 01-07-13 - Published: 12-22-12 - id: 8821640
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Faith had been hunting rogue slayers for the council for a little over two years now, and it never got any easier. Her only saving grace was the friendship that Spike offered as they traveled the world, saving as many of those lost girls as they could and sorrowfully dealing with those that they couldn't. Their jobs began to wear on them, slowly tearing away at the confidence and feelings of redemption that they'd both managed to build for themselves. And of course none of the Scoobies seemed to notice that the two members of their governing Council who had already been outcasts were retreating even more from the group.
It took three weeks of complete absence from Council functions for the calls to begin. And at first they were more annoyed than concerned. Even after all they'd done, including Spike's death and resurrection, the main Scoobies still considered the two of them loose canons. Dangerous and not to be trusted, even worse they saw them as redundant. After all they had Angel and Buffy, the first ensouled vampire and the new First Slayer in the eyes of all the newly called. Who needed a reformed and ensouled William the Bloody or the Dark Slayer for more than extra hands during apocalypse season and rogue clean-up duty when you had the original models?
Another week and a half passed before Giles showed up at the door to their Council-bought apartment. The place had seen more use in the last couple of months than it had since it was chosen as their home base when they weren't out on missions. Currently they were engaged in a vicious battle of wits and strategy as they bantered back and forth while battling one another without mercy in Super Smash Bros. It was violence, an intrinsic part of both their natures, but without all the emotional baggage that came with the rest of their life. As such they didn't hear Giles' attempts to politely catch their attention from outside the door. Finally the Watcher simply took out his copy of their key, he had one for all the Scoobies as well, and let himself in. What he found was the signs of a place lived in for a long period of time with no care to keeping it presentable. There were empty take-out and pizza boxes on the table, empty cups in the sink, and several beer bottles littering the counters. In the living room he saw Faith sprawled across the floor in a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt that was most likely Spike's, judging from the fact that it was a little too large on her, the vampire himself was laying on the couch in only a pair of boxers, groaning as the slayer crowed her victory. They each had a beer within reach and at least one empty bottle nearby as well. Spike was the first to notice him and he smirked.
"Oi! Fai, look who dropped by to see if we're still alive." He commented, bitter sarcasm weighing heavy in his voice. The young woman looked up, and if Giles was expecting the Dark Slayer to reside in those expressive eyes of hers he was proven wrong. Instead there was only weary resignation, the eyes of a warrior too tired of the fight to keep going. Inwardly the British man wondered how she'd managed to stay alive with that sort of depression so deep in her. The answer, of course, was given to him as the bleach-blonde vampire snarled at him from the couch for staring too long at the slayer that the other man saw as a little sister. Giles turned back to him, absently cleaning his glasses while clearing his throat. Scowling the vampire stood, motioning Giles to follow as he led the way to the kitchen. With his back turned to him Giles could see the tattoo that both ensouled vampires now carried. It was a sun, situated in the center of his back and just below his shoulder blades. Inside the flames around the circle was a ring of ancient runes stating the protection spell which surrounded a compass-like design. The tattoo was designed and spelled to allow them to walk in the sun unharmed. They didn't tan, much to Angel's annoyance, but they didn't burst into flames either. Spike cleared the table quickly, putting all the trash in a large black plastic bag before pulling out and lighting a cigarette. The two men sat across from one another, silence reigning for a few moments before Spike spoke.
"She can't do it anymore Watcher-man. Every time we have to take a girl down she gets a little worse." The pale man took a drag from his cig as light poured across his face from the uncovered kitchen window. Despite having been present for the application and blessing of both tattoos it always surprised him when the vampires didn't burst into flames when exposed to sunlight.
"So who we gotta kill for ya this time G?" Faith asked as she slumped into the kitchen, startling the man from his thoughts. The brunette slayer dropped into a chair, staring blankly at the watcher now as she waited for his answer.
"No one, I just wanted to make sure you two were alright." The British man answered calmly. He jumped though when the young woman snarled at him. She leaned over and snatched up the leather briefcase he'd brought with him. Popping it open she scooped out the folder and dropped it on the table. It opened as it fell and on top of the papers inside was a picture of a girl. She couldn't have been more than seventeen, but she was leaning against a chain link fence with a lit cigarette between her lips and a familiar scowl on her face. Familiar because Faith was known to wear one just like it. Faith stared at the picture, a pained look on her face as she took in the grunge clothes, raggedly-cut pink hair, and closed off hazel eyes. Spike on the other hand glared murderously at the Watcher as Giles removed his glasses to clean them once more and try to come up with the right words to explain his way out of the situation he had found himself in.