FIC: Faith Wayne (7/?)

London, England

"Mr Giles! Mr. Giles!"

Giles sighed as his door burst open and one of the new Slayers, a usually polite Brummie by the name of Mary, raced into his office, her face flushed with excitement. "Young lady," he fixed her with his most forbidding stare, "you're not a yank, you should have at least enough manners to knock!"

"Sorry sir." The curly-haired brunette seemed to barely register either his reprimand or his frosty glare. "But have you looked on Entertainment Weekly's website this morning?"

"Oh yes dear," he sniffed sarcastically, "it's the first thing I do, right after I've finished The Times. Sometimes even before."

"Well you should look!" Giles blinked when the girl more or less pushed him aside and started typing at his computer's keyboard, yes he'd been forced to concede to technology and progress. "They've got a photo of Bruce Wayne's daughter up!"

Giles raised an eyebrow, he'd heard of the billionaire of course and the furore surrounding his recently discovered mystery daughter, but couldn't care less about some pampered yank or other. "Fascinating I'm sure, this concerns us-." His words trailed off when the website flickered up to reveal a very surprising but very familiar face. "Oh good lord!"

"It's Faith!" Mary cried.

"I have eyes," Giles mumbled, unable to shift his gaze from the screen. It was crazy, but there was Faith, sandwiched between a man he recognised as the infamous playboy and Xander. He winced inwardly as he considered Buffy's jealous reaction. Somehow he guessed the Italian Slayer House's shoe budget would rocket as she comfort-shopped for the next few weeks.

Or, dear god, years.


"Hello Faith, Xander," her father greeted as they entered his house the morning after the charity gala. "Xander, I understand you wanted to try out the gym?" Bruce queried.

Xander glanced at her, Faith could recognise a dismissal when she heard one. Faith nodded slightly. Xander looked at her dad. "Yeah, but I forgot my gear."

"There's always some spare clothes in the locker room ny the gym," Bruce smiled. "Tim's waiting for you there."

Faith turned towards her father the moment Xander was outta of earshot. "Never ever do that again. Anythin' you wanna say to me, Xander can hear too, you dig?"

"As you wish," her father nodded apologetically. "A friend of mine has asked a favour of you-."

Memories of her mom telling her she should be a good girl for one of 'mom's friends' flashed in her mind. "You can back the fuck off now," she warned. "And me and X are leavin', I see you again and I'll cut your fucking nuts off!"

"What-," her father looked briefly rocked by her rage. Faith turned away from him before she gave into the temptation to put her fist through his face. "Wait!"

"Big mistake," she snarled as her father's hand landed on her shoulder, her own hands shooting up to grab his thick wrist as she snapped forward at the waist and flung him over her. No man had gotten away with man-handling her in a long time. Her eyes widened when her father hit the ground on his shoulders and rolled up into a crouch. "How did you do that!"

"My first ward, Dick Grayson, came from a family of acrobats. When I took him in, I learnt the skills as a way of getting close," her father explained, a wary expression on his face.

"Whatever," Faith growled with a shake of the head. Somethin' didn't ring true 'bout that, but she was too pissed to think 'bout it overmuch. "I'm gettin' Xander and goin'."

"My friend is a reporter as his wife, he's asked for the exclusive for his wife," Bruce paused. "She might be easier on you than someone we don't know."

"Right," Faith stared at the man, a slight warmth rising in her cheeks as she realised her suspicious nature and hot temper had combined to get her in trouble again. "Um, sorry." Jesus, she'd nearly punched his lights out.

"Faith, I know what your mother was and how you were treated as a child. There's nothing I can do about that, as much as I'd like to. But I can guarantee I'll never stop trying to make up for not being there."

"Yeah," Faith stared warily at the man. He was kinda closed off, like there was a public Wayne, the playboy, and a darker, more serious one that could give Angel tips on brooding. "I guess we better set up an appointment or somethin' with them-."

"They're in the study."

"You assume a lot don't ya?" Faith half-smiled, her embarrassment easing.

"You meeting them made sense," her father replied before leading her towards the rear of the sprawling mansion. "And where did you learn judo?"

"My guardian hired a sensei to train with me after school," Faith explained, that much at least was true. As a potential she'd learnt Muay Thai, Aiki-jitsu, Tae Kwon Do, Jujitsu, and Wing Chun. All in all, despite only bein' a recognised Potential for three years 'fore bein' called, she was probably one of the best trained out there. Course her skills base had expanded rapidly upon Calling. "And ever since becomin' a PT instructor I've tried to learn as much about the Martial Arts as I can."

Bruce looked at her, something flickering behind his impassive stare. "She looked after you?"

"Diana and I were tight," Faith replied. She wasn't about to share the fact that Diana had been the nearest thing to a parent the child version of her had ever known, that nightmares of her gruesome death had haunted her for months after her murder, and that she still missed her today.

"Good, I'm glad you had somebody." Bruce came to a halt by the study door. "My friends are to be trusted, still….."

"Be careful what I say?" Faith wrinkled her nose. It was an uneeded warning, but she nodded anyhow. "Yeah, figured that."

"Excellent," Bruce opened the door and strode in to reveal a beautiful brunette about her height but ten to fifteen years older and a thick-set man maybe her dad's age. "Lois, Clark, this is my daughter Faith." Bruce looked towards Clark. "Clark, why don't we leave the ladies to it?"


"Very sly of you, separating Lois and I," Clark smiled wryly as he followed his closest ally into his drawing room.

"I wasn't about to allow you and Lois to gang up on Faith," Bruce replied as he poured two glasses of wine and passed him one. "Even if she is super-powered."

"What?" the glass was half-way to Clark's mouth when Bruce's words hit home, his eyes widening slightly.

"She's something called a Slayer according to Alfred." Bruce chuckled. "And you should be very grateful Lois got this interview, Faith threw me across the room when I first suggested it."

Clark listened with increasing surprise as his friend explained. "What do you intend to do about this?"

Bruce pulled a face. "I'm not sure I can do anything, I can't stop her from being a Slayer. She's not someone who seems to respond well to being told what to do. Information about this Council is a little difficult to come by. Given that Oracle failed to hack it, I suspect their computer systems are magically protected. And I can't exactly ask Faith, because that'll open up a whole load of other problems."

"Have you considered talking to Blood or Fate?" Clark suggested as he supped at the red.

"Considered it, but they're a little hard to get hold of at the moment, and I don't want to risk word getting out in the occult world that the girl revealed as Bruce Wayne's daughter is a Slayer."

"No, I don't suppose you would," Clark pursed his lips. "I could check at the Fortress to see if I have any information about Slayers? There might be something under Earth legends or the supernatural."

Bruce's lips pulled up in an all-too rare smile. "I'd appreciate that old friend."

Clark smiled back. "First chance I get," he promised, his brow furrowing as another thought occurred. "I'm betting the rumours I hear about you accidentally meeting her at a business meeting aren't the whole truth."

"They are as far as Faith knows," Bruce replied. "The truth is rather different. And not publishable."

"Oh, I was taking that as read," Clark sipped at his wine. His constitution ensured he couldn't get drunk, heck he could drink a wine cellar and not even get a buzz, but he liked the taste. "But I'd like to hear the story."

"Of course," he listened as his friend talked. To anyone else it would have sounded like a clinically impersonal recital of events, but to someone so versed in Bruce Wayne and with his enhanced senses, he could hear the pride in every word.


Luthor smiled as he entered the single-storey nondescript office building via the side entrance and crept down its dimly lit corridor. He'd worked years building contacts in the political, business, and judicial worlds to ensure that all of his schemes had as smooth as possible passage. Of course those costumed clowns frequently got in his way.

But not for much longer. Luthor smirked as he stopped at the door at the end of the corridor and knocked authoritatively.

His knocks were still echoing through the corridor when a deep voice growled from within. "Come in sir."

"Thank you Amanda," Luthor replied before grasping the door's brass handle, opening it, and striding into the plushly decorated office, complete with immaculately varnished desk, avant-garde artwork adorning the walls, and a thick, fluffy carpet.

There was nothing plush about the woman sat behind the room's orderly desk. She was sheer business, a square box of a woman with a determined jaw-line, intelligent eyes, and short-cut, unfeminine black hair. The plain grey suit she was wearing only added to her no-nonsense aura.

Ms. Waller had had a chequered career in the murkier aspects of government service having run both the Suicide Squad and Checkmate, but having been ignominiously fired from both lofty positions. However through all her trials and tribulations she had remained steadfastly dedicated to him.

To be honest, he wasn't sure if it was because of loyalty, fear, or a lack of imagination. "Your call was quite intriguing," he murmured as he settled into the chair opposite his underling. "You mentioned some news about Ms. Faith Lehane?"

"Her name triggered a memory, so I checked our files." Waller pushed a burgundy folder across the gleaming desk. "She's a mystically-activated Meta-Human, not a major one, but perhaps a danger nonetheless."

Luthor's eyes widened as he read the range of the 'Slayer's' skills and abilities. "Talented," he muttered. He chuckled as he read on, read the young woman's history, seeing the potential for mischief.

"I thought you'd be interested in her," Amanda commented.

"You thought correctly," Luthor steepled his fingers together as he sat back in his chair and pursed his lips in thought. "We'll keep her powers secret, let Wayne think we have no idea what his bombshell really is." His mouth pulled up into a cruel smirk. "But that whore of a mother and the criminal record on the other hand. Leaking them to contacts other than our usual in the press could prove very uncomfortable to Wayne. After all, the people have a right to know!" He chuckled. "And provide me with at least a little entertainment."

"I'll get right on it sir."