Disclaimer: Since my name is not Joss Whedon, 'Buffy: The Vampire Slayer', 'Angel' and the characters associated with the show belong to someone who in't me. I also do not own the storyline, that is taken from gidgetgirl's 'The Lost Child Challenge' (details below) posted at the Chocolate Covered Strawberries Archive.

The Lost Child Challenge

When Faith was fourteen, she was raped by her mother's boyfriend. After that, she left home on her own, pregnant with the rapist's child. When she was found by the Council, her first Watcher took the baby, assuring Faith that it would be taken care of... the Watcher then was killed by Kakistos before she could give Faith more information. Now, years later, the child has come back into Faith's life.

Requirements:

- Faith dealing with mixed feelings about the child: a mother's love and the memory of the rape.
- The child having a Faith-esque attitude problem
- The council having had some hand in the child's conception
- The child having an amazing destiny
- Faith wanting to save her daughter from her own mistakes

Author's Note I: This chapter takes place after the Season Seven Finale of Buffy, about five years after the prologue.

Author's Note II: To Freezyboncoolipants – Since Buffy was called at fifteen, I figure Kendra and Faith were too. Since Slayers don't live very long, replacing a Slayer with someone older wouldn't make sense. Plus I wanted to factor in that she was fourteen when the baby was conceived.

Author's Note III: To gidgetgirl – Sadly, I think most of the Council, including Travers, are already dead so he won't be getting the ass-kissing he so richly deserves, although a big thank you to Imzadi for reminding me about Roger Wyndham-Pryce still being among the living – I'd forgotten about him.

Author's Note IV: To Faeries Twilight and C'est Magnifique – Thanks for your advice on genre. Angst/Drama sounds about right.

Chapter 1

Kent, England.

The immaculately kept lawn in the garden of the large, walled estate had just been mown and the scent of the freshly cut grass tickled her nose as she carefully took aim, leveling her crossbow, a gift from her adoring guardian, at the target and firing.

"Bullseye." Her trainer congratulated her warmly. "Well done."

Acknowledging his praise with a curt nod, the little girl, slightly built even for her five years, impatiently brushed away a dark curl that had escaped from it's ribbon, narrowing her eyes at the painted circle in front of her, preparing for a second shot.

Mr Faulkner had started teaching her how to use a crossbow just a few weeks before the bad news about her guardian had arrived and, although he said that she was a natural, she couldn't muster the same enthusiasm she had had when she had known that Uncle Quentin was going to hear about how she was getting on, that he was going to come to visit to see her, that he was going to be proud of her.

The people who took care of her, her tutors, her trainers, even her nannies never stayed very long, sometimes only for a couple of months.

Even the people who worked in the house, who did all the cleaning and cooking, were always leaving.

Everybody always left her.

Everybody except Uncle Quentin and now, he too had been taken from her.

She felt tears pricking her eyes and blinked fiercely to suppress them.

Only the weak cried.

She was special, Uncle Quentin had always told her that.

She was going to be a great warrior and she was going to help a lot of people, maybe even save the world if she worked hard and did everything she was supposed to.

When she was grown up, she was going to be a very important person.

She liked to think that when that day came, when she was a great warrior and a hero, her not-a-mother would somehow, magically know about it.

Then she would be sorry that she hadn't wanted her, that she'd abandoned her.

And Uncle Quentin would see, even from up in Heaven, and he would be happy with her.

London.

Headquarters of the Inner Sanctum of the Watcher's Council.

" 'Slayer is willful and insolent. Her abuse of the English language is such that I understand only every other sentence.' – Giles, I'm hurt!" Buffy looked up at him with an expression of mock pique. "Is that what you really think of me?"

Giles looked away sheepishly, taking off his glasses and cleaning them as he tried to think of an appropriate response but Buffy, immersed in the file she had – amid the very vocal protests of the two gentlemen entrusted with the task of file-keeping, who had not yet given up their complaints that only those with the highest security clearance were permitted to access their files – liberated from the Record Room, had already forgotten about him.

"I guess the 'S' stands for Slayer." Willow observed, tracing the old-fashioned wax seal on the cover of Buffy's file with her finger.

"It can't be that." Kennedy observed practically. "Mine has one too and those two" She nodded in the direction of their very unhappy audience. "Didn't know about your spell until we told them."

"Mine has a 'H' on it." Faith narrowed her eyes suspiciously, glaring at the hapless clerks. "What's that supposed to be for?"

"Hot head?"

Dawn, who had made the suggestion, ended up on the receiving end of a death-glare.

Faith grunted as she lifted the file. "This thing's heavy." She opened it to reveal a large, fold out sheet of yellowing paper detailing a web of names, mostly women's, some of them highlighted. "You Watcher types really go into detail, don't you?" Her tone was grudgingly admiring. "This thing must go back at least five hundred years, maybe more."

"Good Lord." Giles looked impressed as he leaned forward to inspect the carefully mapped out family tree. "I didn't know you were related to Rachel Knight."

"Neither did I." Faith responded with perfect truth.

Her mother had never been one for sentimental reminiscing and family history.

"And Rachel Knight would be . . .?" Xander prompted.

"A Slayer in America during the early nineteenth century, quite a celebrated one. Some of her exploits are legendary."

"I don't have one." Buffy complained. "Was the Summers family not worth researching?"

"Mine wasn't either, if that's any consolation." Kennedy offered.

"Maybe Faith's Slayer royalty?"

Faith grinned at Dawn's suggestion. "I can live with that."

Xander, intrigued, traced the line with his finger, noting with some amusement and slight indignation that men seemed to have been beneath the notice of whoever had complied the family tree, which included several names he vaguely recalled from the seven years worth of research he had done as a member of the Scooby Gang.

His handsome face became serious as he found Faith's name, a narrow line leading from it to another.

His brow was furrowed, his expression puzzled as he looked up at the dark-haired Slayer.

"Who's Eleanor?"

TBC.