Loosening the Ties That Bind
Author: WyseQuack
Written: January/February 2002
Rating: PG-13 for mildly offensive language
Spoilers: This story contains references to events in "Checkpoint" and "The Gift". Also, if you're not up to date concerning Faith's history through the end of Buffy's fourth season and Angel's first, you might not want to read this until you are.
'Why am I here?' Giles thought to himself, as he sat in the visiting room of the Los Angeles area jail.
He'd been contacted by Angel a little over a week after Buffy had sacrificed herself to seal the portal and save Dawn. The souled vampire had relayed Faith's urgent request for Giles to come visit her. Angel had been most insistent that he accept the invitation. At the same time, he had been maddeningly vague about the reason for Faith's sudden need to confer with him.
He took off his glasses, wiped them clean, and replaced them on the bridge of his nose. Dealing with Faith had always been a challenge for him, and his experiences in that area were now somewhat outdated. He hadn't seen Faith - unless you counted the memorable occasion when she literally hadn't been herself - since she'd awoken from her coma. She'd apparently changed a great deal since that time, but he hadn't actually seen it for himself.
When that was combined with his complete ignorance of the topic Faith was so anxious to discuss with him, he was feeling decidedly nervous.
He watched as the door on the other side of the glass partition opened and Faith walked in. She was clad in nondescript prison denim, of course, but the air of confidence she habitually projected faltered, if only for an instant, when she caught her first glimpse of Giles. The guard who had escorted Faith through the doorway quickly departed back through it.
Faith walked over to the chair in front of the partition, sat down and picked up the telephone receiver. She paused for another moment taking in the posted sign warning "CONVERSATIONS MAY BE MONITORED". She seemed unhappy at the prospect that someone else might be privy to their conversation, but after a momentary hesitation she seemed to accept there was nothing she could do about that. Giles picked up his own receiver.
"Thanks for coming, Giles," she began.
"Angel seemed to feel it was important I do so," Giles replied neutrally.
"Would it make any difference if I said I was sorry about Buffy?" After a brief pause, she added, " 'cause I am."
'Sorry for what you did to her, or sorry that she's gone?' thought Giles in a mood equal parts anger and sorrow. Seeing nothing to be gained from a confrontational approach, he responded, "Of course it does, Faith."
"Thank you," Faith answered in a quiet voice. At a slightly louder volume, she observed, "The last time I saw B she gave me the impression nobody in Sunnydale wanted to hear any apologies I might have to make - or anything I might have to say, period."
Giles' free hand moved up to touch his glasses. He resisted the impulse to wipe them, mostly because it would require him setting down the receiver to use both hands.
"Faith, I wouldn't attach too much importance to what Buffy said in the heat of anger. She may well have thought differently once the anger passed. And even if that were not the case, it does not mean the rest of us all felt the same way.
"I, for one," he went on, "have a rather bitter lesson in my past about the pointless futility of holding fast to a grudge. It is not a mistake I'm inclined to repeat."
They stared at each other in silence for a few moments after that, each waiting for the other to speak.
Faith spoke first. "I guess neither one of us is big on small talk right now, so I might as well get to the reason I asked to see you."
"Which is?"
"What happens now that she's gone again? Will another slayer be called, or is it a first-time only thing?"
"No one knows for certain. The situation is rather unprecedented."
"But the council's looking."
"They have not specifically told me so, but I would be amazed if they were not."
"And if they don't find what they're looking for?"
"If there is one to be found, I expect they will find her. They - we - found both Buffy and yourself in short order after you were called, as you may recall."
" 'They? We?' " Faith questioned. "You a part of them or not?"
Giles hesitated before responding. "That's somewhat up in the air at the moment. When the council reinstated me as Buffy's Watcher, there was some duress involved. Now that the situation has changed - Well, I'm not entirely sure the council will welcome my input any longer."
"They're gonna fire you again. Or they already have," Faith stated, taking in the older man's expression to be sure she'd translated the Giles-speak correctly.
"It's certainly a possibility. Assuming I don't resign first."
"Why make it that easy for them?" objected Faith.
"Faith, if I do resign, I won't be doing it to make things easy for the Council. As matters stand, I think remaining in the Council's employ might be more of a handicap than an advantage to me."
Faith shook her head. "Wow," she said. "I asked you to come see me 'cause I thought I needed your help."
"Help with what?" Giles asked.
"The Council," she replied.
Giles gave her a non-verbal invitation to elaborate by means of raised eyebrows and a subtle nod of his head.
"If they don't find a new Slayer, sooner or later the council is going to assume there isn't one to be found. As long as Buffy was around, they could forget about me, but if there's only one Slayer now, and I'm a long-term guest of the state of California - well, I'm thinking they might see that as a problem."
"It could hardly be seen as an ideal situation," Giles admitted.
"So would they do something to change it?"
Giles paused, then asked, "Faith, are you asking the council to obtain your early release from prison?"
"Hell, no," Faith replied in an offended tone. "They're the last people in the world I want doing favors for me. Besides, they don't trust me, and I sure as hell don't trust them. They aren't gonna want to help me unless I promise to do things their way, which is something I'm never gonna do."
"So the reason you're asking is . . ."
"I'd like to know how long I have until they send Larry, Moe and Curly to try and put my lights out again."
After another pause Giles responded, "I hope the council will not find it necessary to resort to such drastic measures."
"Me, too," Faith replied. "But that doesn't mean it's not gonna happen."
"I wish I could tell you your fears were groundless," Giles admitted. "I do have some hope I can dissuade them from such a course of action. I'm sure I can delay it, but I don't know if I can stop it entirely."
"What if I could make it so there wasn't any need for it?" Faith asked. Her voice had the swagger of someone savoring the feeling of having solved a riddle that had stumped everyone around them.
Giles stared at the young-yet-somehow-weary woman's face as he tried to decipher what she meant by the statement. It didn't give any clue as to the riddle's answer, but the gentle air of nervousness which Faith wasn't bothering - or wasn't able - to hide suggested to him that it leaned towards the outlandish.
"I don't follow what you mean by that, Faith," he told her.
"If they go along with my plan, I can give the Council a new slayer. But it's not a freebie. I want some serious payback."
Giles was shocked. And confused. "Faith, what good will this payback do you if you're dead?"
"Who says I'm gonna be dead?"
Now he was really confused. "You've figured out a means of calling another Slayer without killing yourself?"
Faith smirked. "Yep."
"Well, I admit that will certainly entice the council's interest. Just what is it you want from them in return?"
"I've got a couple extra conditions, but what I mostly want from the council is for them to leave me the fuck alone. The trick is getting them to agree to that."
"Faith, how has the council been bothering you?" Giles inquired.
Faith gave him a you've got to be kidding look.
"Since you've been here," he specified.
"They haven't done anything - not since I turned myself in," Faith reluctantly admitted. "And I'd like to keep it that way."
"Why would they do anything?" Giles wondered aloud.
"Maybe to make sure I never get out of here?" Faith offered.
That wasn't beyond the realm of possibility, Giles admitted to himself. Given her history, the idea of Faith's eventual release made many of the council uncomfortable. Understandably.
"You may have a point there," he said aloud. "So, you're primarily worried about the council sabotaging any future parole hearings you might have?"
"Yeah, that kind of thing. Look, I'm not asking for a get out of jail free card, just a fair shot like anybody else is supposed to get."
"That . . . doesn't sound unreasonable, I suppose" Giles conceded.
"So will they go for it?" Faith asked with a touch of anxiety.
"I think it will depend on how much confidence they have in this plan of yours. And I believe you mentioned something about other conditions." He trailed off, and gave her a look that invited her to elaborate.
"First off, I want it clear this is a one-shot deal. If I ever do get out, I'm not going back to taking orders from the council. They have to get, when this thing is over, we're through with one another."
Giles didn't respond verbally, but his free hand did come up to adjust his glasses.
"What?" Faith barked at him. A little more loudly than she had really meant to, but Giles' reluctance and fidgeting had unsettled her.
"Faith, I can understand why you want to distance yourself from the council," Giles replied in a calm tone. "I found my own temporary separation from them to be not without its advantages. However, if and when you are released or paroled the council will have understandable concerns that you do not resume the . . . activities that resulted in your incarceration."
A wicked smile lit Faith's features. "Fine. No more confessions to the cops."
Faith saw the exasperation creeping into Giles' features.
"Kidding, Giles," she offered in semi-apologetic explanation.
"I should hope so." After a few moments of consideration, he continued. "That is going to be . . . problematic. I'm sure that certain parties on the council will insist on interpreting your determination to distance yourself from them as 'proof' that your rehabilitation and contrition are a deception intended to trick them into lowering their guard concerning you."
"Stones and glass houses," Faith responded in voice full of resentment. "Who the hell's keeping an eye on them? Not that I'd apply for that job, even if I could. I'd rather stay far, far away from them."
"It's true, the council has made some mistakes," Giles began.
Faith gave a derisive snort.
"While it's true their methods may be clumsy at times," Giles persisted, "they really do mean well."
"Excuse me? Aren't they the people who had you drug B to sap her strength, made you lie to her about it, and then while she was still wondering what the hell was going on with that, were gonna force her into a steel cage death match with a pissed off vamp?"
She had him there.
He chose his words carefully. "Faith, I myself don't agree with, or condone, the Council's actions on that occasion. That being said, when the Council ordered that test to go ahead, I do believe they honestly thought it was serving the greater good."
"What the hell does that mean?" Faith asked angrily.
"That the consequences of not giving the test would be even worse than the consequences of giving it."
Faith thought about that for a moment. "That's nuts."
"I'm afraid I can't explain this very well, Faith, because I have to admit I've never understood the logic behind the Cruciamentum myself."
"You sure it's not a devious plan to bump off any Slayer who's been 'round long enough to notice what a bunch of idiots the Council is?" she wondered.
"That's . . . rather cynical." Giles observed.
"Think about it. The more Slayers they go through, the better their chances of finally getting the mindless puppet Slayer they seem to be looking for. Of course, if they ever get her, I give the world about another twenty minutes," she finished.
"Is that what you really think of the Council, Faith?" Giles asked.
"What else should I think? They did run the test."
"With my participation," Giles reminded her.
"Hey, you came clean at the end. And at least you realize how idiotic it was. The way I heard it, most of the Council thought B didn't have any reason to be pissed off at them about that. Which is yet another reason I don't want anything to do with them.
"Hey, Giles, I just had an idea. You want to get rid of this thing, right?"
"What thing?" Giles asked, not entirely sure what she was referring to.
"This dumb test we were just talking about. I could make getting rid of it one of my conditions for going through with this plan."
"That may complicate things more than you think," Giles cautioned. "There are still members on the council who think the Cruciamentum serves an important purpose."
"Which only goes to prove how whacko they are. Even when I was at my craziest I never saw the point to it."
She went on in a more serious tone. "Look, I made the choices that landed me in here, I'm not trying to deny that. But knowing the council had done something like that to somebody who was on the same side they were - when I thought about it, it didn't make it any harder for me to switch sides."
Faith suddenly found the frame of the glass partition strangely fascinating. This was, in large part, because she'd found herself unable to meet Giles' eyes after she'd finished her last comment.
"No, I don't imagine it did," Giles acknowledged with a hint of sorrow in his tone. Giles found his thoughts taking him back to the aftermath of Gwendolyn Post's deception. That event had underscored how Faith didn't give her trust easily - how fragile that trust was, even afterward - and how hard she took it when her trust was abused. Maybe if the council had bothered to take notice, things might have gone differently. But it hadn't, and things had gone as they had.
"Faith, I would not be the least bit disappointed to see the Cruciamentum abolished. However, I find myself curious why you would want to concern yourself about it," Giles prodded.
Faith made a sound halfway between a sigh and a grunt. "It's just that - ever since I came up with this idea I've been feeling a little bit guilty about one part of it."
"And that would be?"
"The part where the new girl gets stuck with the council. Nobody deserves that, but I don't see how I can change it. It's just - if I can get them to back off about that screwy test, I could think of that as my way of apologizing to her."
Giles paused to digest that. Faith just kept surprising him today. And she still had yet to explain the details of her plan.
"So what exactly is this plan of yours, anyway?" Giles inquired.
"I'll need the council to pull some strings and get me out of here - just for a couple hours, probably. They take me somewhere with proper medical attention and equipment, flatline me, and bring me back."
Giles found himself speechless for a good thirty seconds. Then he reclaimed the receiver, which had somehow slipped out of his hand, and found himself saying, "Flatline?" in a barely audible voice.
Faith was rather enjoying watching Giles' reaction. She'd clearly staggered him with the idea - not an easy thing to do, and watching him try to regain his composure was the most entertainment she'd had in weeks.
"Yeah, Giles. Stop my heart, just for a few seconds. Then start it back up again. You must know what it means."
The man she was addressing had gone silent and still. Maybe she'd overdone it. "Giles?" she prompted.
"I am trying to decide," Giles started, fighting - but not quite succeeding - to keep an even tone in his voice, "if this reckless plan of yours is ingenious or insane."
"Don't forget it looks like my other choice is sitting here and waiting for a hit squad to show up," Faith reminded him. "I'm not too worried about them sending the stooges again - although I'm not promising to leave them intact this time - but what if they decide to shell out for somebody competent?"
"I suppose there is that," Giles conceded without much grace. "Faith, you do realize it's going to be difficult - if not impossible - to find a reputable doctor who will go along with this scheme of yours."
"There has to be somebody, Giles." Her voice quavered as she said it, contradicting the certainty in her words.
"Well, it's possible I am being unduly pessimistic on that point," Giles backtracked. "I still cannot imagine who at the moment, but leaving that aside, I see another obstacle. If I take your proposal to the council, they may decide to simply kidnap and flatline you themselves, assuming the idea hasn't already occurred to them."
"They can try," Faith said, in a voice that suggested she'd make anyone who did regret it. "And where are they gonna find a doc who'll do it their way, if it's gonna be so hard to find one who'll do it my way?"
"The stumbling point there is the word reputable," muttered Giles, low enough that Faith could and did pretend not to hear him.
There was a prolonged silence before Giles spoke again. "So in return for your co-operation in this venture, you want the council to . . ."
"Ignore me. Forget I exist," Faith interrupted to explain.
"Given your history, I can't see the council finding that acceptable," Giles told her gently.
"Yeah, can't have the nutcase slayer wandering around by herself," Faith jested. "Somebody's got to watch her - but why does it have to be them?" she finished in a frustrated tone.
"They see it as their responsibility," Giles explained. "And for all their faults, which I will grant are numerous, they do take their responsibilities seriously."
"I actually get why they don't really want me wandering around like a loose cannon," Faith admitted. "But when I look back on things, it's pretty clear to me that the council made plenty of screwups of its own. I've owned up to my mistakes, and I'm doing what I can to make things right again, but I'm not convinced the council can say the same - and I wouldn't believe them if they tried. It's just - If I ever do get out of here, I want to get it right this time. And that's gonna be hard enough without a pack of jackasses getting in my face everywhere I go." After a momentary pause, she went on, but without any real hope in her voice. "Do you think there's any chance at all they'd let somebody else hold the leash they think I need to be kept on? Angel, maybe?"
"Certainly not Angel. Even if they didn't have their own issues with his . . . unique status, there is the matter of the difficulty he would have keeping track of you during the day."
"I'm more of a night person myself, or at least I was," Faith half-objected, "but I guess I see your point. Nobody else, either?"
"To be acceptable to the council, it would have to be someone they trusted," Giles began.
"Do they trust anyone else?" Faith inquired.
A ghost of a smile flashed across Giles' lips. "There you have the crux of that matter," he responded.
"That means no, right?" Giles nodded.
Faith sighed, then continued. "Damn. There is no way I'm going to do this unless they agree to give me some space. I am not their pet, or their slave, no matter what they might think." She gave Giles a penetrating look. "You don't see any way around that?"
"Getting the council to entirely forget about you? No. However, that doesn't mean they can't be persuaded to give you some 'space'," he went on to elaborate.
Faith gave him a wary look. "I'm listening," was all she said.
"The Council is going to insist on monitoring your activities, there's no escaping that, but I think they will agree to do so in an unobtrusive fashion."
Faith paused to digest that. "So they'll still spy on me, they just won't be obvious about it?. That sounds awfully generous of them," she replied in a voice full of sarcasm.
Giles sighed. "I can't make any promises for them right now, and I won't mislead you about their likely reactions. However, I think they will agree simply to observe you without making any effort to control your actions - unless of course, you suffer a relapse."
"I hate that part."
Giles studied her carefully. "Faith, do you want to make this offer to the council, or not?"
She considered that for about twenty seconds. "Yeah," she finally admitted. "But there's another part to it I haven't mentioned yet."
"Which is?"
"I don't know much about how the council picks the Watchers for each slayer," she began. "Okay, I never asked. But when they pick the Watcher for the next girl, they have to give you a veto."
"A veto?" Giles echoed, puzzled.
"Yeah. Whoever they choose, you have to approve them, or it's back to the drawing board."
After a brief pause, Giles asked her, "Why?"
"'Cause last time, they picked Wesley."
"Was Wesley really such a bad choice?" Giles asked softly.
"Oh, yeah," Faith replied. "Look, Angel still visits me once or twice a month, and he tells me Wesley's actually become a useful human being and a decent fighter - which, in a way, might just be the most unbelievable thing I've ever heard. But that's who he is now, not who he was then. Believe me, I get that kind of difference.
"But he was a disaster as a Watcher," she went on, "and we both know it. Maybe he knew his demons, but he didn't know squat about people. I mean, he was supposed to be there as your replacement, but he kept meeting with us in the library - your turf - with you right there. It made it hard to take the guy seriously. And then some of the stuff he did . . ." she trailed off and shook her head gently in disbelief.
"Indeed." Remembering a couple of situations where Wesley's less than smooth handling had threatened to turn crisis into catastrophe - arguably, in the case of Faith herself, that had actually come to pass - Giles wondered why he'd bothered to defend the man, however gently, at all. 'Of course, it might be that my own past is far from spotless,' Giles thought to himself. 'Wesley and Faith aren't the only ones who have had youthful mistakes to live down.'
Giles returned from his reverie to see Faith peering at him. "So you want me to have this veto to prevent the council from making another such mistake?"
Faith shrugged. "Thought it would give the new girl a better shot at getting somebody decent," she explained.
"I hope you're right," he replied.
Giles was flattered by the confidence her words had showed in him, but he decided not to mention it aloud. Discussing it openly would only make Faith more uncomfortable than she already was.
After a spell of silence Giles asked, "So, is there anything else?"
"Nope. That's it."
"So, just to be sure this is clear in my mind - You are volunteering to undergo this procedure on the condition that the council agrees to have no further contact with you afterward, abolishes the Cruciamentum and gives me a veto on the choice of the next slayer's Watcher?"
"And doesn't pull any dirty tricks to keep me in here - actually, make that doesn't pull any dirty tricks on me, period. Other than that it sounds right," Faith confirmed. "Except . . ." she hesitated.
"Yes?" Giles prompted.
"A couple of things. First, when this happens - can you be there? Just to make sure they don't 'forget' to bring me back?"
Giles thought she was doing the council a disservice with that comment, but her history with the council did give her reason to be wary. Besides, he himself was not entirely certain such a precaution was unwarranted.
"That can be arranged," he assured her. "What else?"
"The new slayer - and her Watcher - if they think they need to talk to me, it's okay. I'll do my best to answer their questions."
"Any other exceptions?" Giles asked.
"You can stop by whenever you like, even if you and the council decide to stick with one another," she told him. "But that's it."
After a quick internal debate Giles let out the breath he hadn't realize he'd been holding and announced his decision. "All right, Faith. I'll present your offer to the council. But only if and when it becomes apparent that Buffy's latest death hasn't resulted in a new slayer. I think it would be imprudent to tempt them with this offer prematurely."
Faith nodded. "I'm okay with that. Just make sure you tell them about it before they send the first assassin. It might save them the cost of a funeral."
Giles gave Faith a strange look, which prompted Faith to explain, "I meant for the assassin, Giles."
Something about that comment bothered Giles just a little bit. He found his gaze drawn to his hand, the one he'd used to smother the life out of Ben that terrible night. Was his own guilt the reason he found Faith calmly discussing killing someone who, after all, would be trying to kill her, so upsetting? There had been no better choice, but he did not recall the action with any fondness.
"Giles?" Faith rapped on the glass, bringing him back to the present.
"I'm sorry, Faith," he said softly. "I'm afraid my wind wanders easily these days when words like death or funeral come up in conversation."
"Sorry, Giles. I guess I really didn't think about how hard this would be on you."
"Well, I suspect it was difficult on you, also. And I fully appreciate why the matter couldn't wait. As for your proposal, I can't predict whether or not the council will agree to it with any amount of confidence, but I will present it to them - if and when it proves necessary."
"Thank you, Giles." After a brief internal debate, she added something else. "If you think it will help, you can give the council another message for me."
"What message would that be?" inquired Giles.
"If they don't stop trying to yank my chain - or succeed in offing me - when I get out, I'm gonna go over there in person to knock some badly needed sense into some of their thick heads."
Giles suppressed a chuckle before he replied. "That would certainly get their attention, Faith, but I have my doubts it would produce the desired result."
"I was afraid you'd say something like that," she said with evident disappointment. "Thanks, anyways. For everything."
Faith hung up the receiver, got up from the chair, walked back and knocked on the door. It opened, and a guard came through, ready to return Faith to her cell.
Giles hung up his own receiver as he watched them depart. As soon as the door closed, with both his hands free once more, Giles removed his glasses and began to wipe them off.
He found his thoughts drifting back to the night Buffy had faced down the Council. She'd forced them to back down by forcing them to admit they needed her even more than she had needed them. He wondered if that story had reached Faith, and inspired the imprisoned slayer's plan in any way.
Not that it really mattered. Whether or not the original idea was hers, Faith had certainly managed to put her own spin on it. He doubted he would ever have seen Faith's imprisonment as an opportunity to get concessions out of the council, but she had seen the opportunity and was willing to seize it.
The council would be outraged, of course, at Faith, of all people, presuming to dictate terms to them. But enough of them, he hoped, would remember that they were supposed to be the good guys. And that good guys didn't resort to murder - at least not when there was a reasonable alternative. Now they would have one.
Somehow, as Giles exited the prison, his heart was just a touch lighter than when he had entered.
END