A:N: To my American readers, the bars Giles mentions are famous fictional British pubs.
FIC Faith The Series S 3 Ep 9 (36?)
"Hey, Jesse."
"Hey Teg-," Jesse's voice trailed off as he looked at the blonde Slayer dressed in a two sizes too short black mini and her curvy upper body practically poured into a white blouse with the top three buttons daringly unfastened, displaying more a hint of -. Jesse shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the alluring sight, forcing them to the Slayer's smirking face. "What are you doing wea-, in here," he quickly, stutteringly amended.
Tegan flashed him a gleaming smile. "I understand you're having trouble with history." The girl leaned over the polished library desk, her blouse falling alarmingly open. "So am I, study buddy!"
The blood drained from Jesse's face. Standing on suddenly shaky legs, he began to edge for the door. "Um, I'd love to," he licked his lips, forcing his eyes not to concentrate on the curve of the Slayer's ass or the contents of her blouse but on her face. He had a great girl-friend, he reminded himself. "Only I've got martial arts practice. See you later!"
Tegan laughed softly to herself as the boy fled out of the library. His reaction had confirmed everything she'd guessed. Miss. Chase was too good to lower herself to sleeping with Mr. McNally, the boy was practically brimming with hormones. Making her little project so much easier.
And so what if she had to lower herself to dressing like Faith? Tegan sniffed as she fastened the undone silver buttons on her blouse. The methods she used to get her revenge weren't important, only leaving Chase broken and humiliated.
Giles stepped through the bar's entrance, into the warm, smoky environs of Sunnydale's only British themed bar, complete with snooker table, darts table, and the comically Dick Van Dyke sounding bartender. And the ruffled dresses on the barmaids were like something out of the 1890s not 1990s.
But, Giles made his way to the bar, it was the only place in town whose jukebox played the music of his youth and served traditional British beer rather than the awful American crap. And, he added with a note of guilt, it was the only place that Faith wouldn't track him down to, giving him some much needed peace.
He loved his Slayer with all his heart, but that unfortunately was part of the problem.
"Six days," he muttered.
"What was that Mr. Giles?" queried the barmaid, a brassy type that one might find down at 'The Rover's Return' or 'The Woolpack'.
Giles smiled in vague embarrassment. "Nothing," he shook his head. "I'll have my usual." He reached into his pocket and brought up a ten dollar bill. "That'll cover me for tonight."
The barmaid smiled before taking his money from him and going to get his drink. Alone again, he descended back into his morose broodings. Six days until Christmas. Last year, his chest caught at the memory, last year, there'd been him, Faith, and Jenny. He smiled sadly. His Slayer had hidden it well, but he knew his girl, and he knew she'd been excited at having Jenny there for Christmas, the child deep inside her wishing that one day they'd be a family.
But thanks to Angelus and his brood that would never happen.
A part of him had died that day too. With the love of his Slayer, although of course he'd never use such a word in her hearing, a half-smile tugged at his lips, and her quite amazing friends he'd managed to pull himself back together, eventually. But emptiness remained deep within him, an emptiness that gnawed ever wider with the approach of the holidays.
"You're clearly a man with a lot on his mind."
Giles started at the slightly husky voice by his side. Turning, he saw a ravishing, golden-haired beauty with startling green eyes, dressed in a business suit sitting on the bar stool beside him, the only slight flaw with her elegant outfit her gaudy necklace. "I beg your pardon?" he said, tongue tripping over the words at the blonde's gorgeousness.
"A problem shared is a problem halved," the woman offered him a perfectly manicured hand. After a second he shook it. "I'm Runa, and you're?"
"Gil-," he caught himself. "Rupert. Rupert Giles. Can I buy you a drink?"
"A red wine would be lovely, thank you," Runa smiled at him. Once the drink had arrived and the bartender been paid, Runa continued. "That's a very British name, Rupert Giles. And what brings you over the pond?"
Giles ventured a half-smile. "Family, duty, the boring old things that the English seem to put such store by."
"You sound bitter."
"It's been a hard year," he sighed, grateful for the opportunity to open up to another adult but as always careful as to what he said. "My girl-friend was murdered." The woman gasped. "If not for my adopted-daughter," he reached into his pocket, bringing out the photograph of Faith he always kept in his wallet, "I would have fallen apart."
"She's very beautiful," Runa commented.
"Oh she's so much more than that," Giles trailed a finger down his Slayer smiling face, "she's brave, loyal, and kind. And soon," guilt deadened his heart. "Soon, she'll have to face something no child should face."
"That sounds terrible," Runa commented uncertainly. "As a parent it must be horrible to be unable to help your child."
"Not unable, I'm still working on a way-," he corrected fiercely before shooting his companion an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, it's been a stressful year."
"I quite understand," a strange gleam entered the woman's eyes. "I bet you wish the entire year hadn't happened?"
More than anything, he wanted Jenny back. But his own wishes were unimportant next to his Slayer's happiness. "I wouldn't anything wish for myself," Giles looked down at the lovingly laminated photograph of his pride and joy. "I'd just like her and her friends to see snow before," his throat tightened as he remembered one of the few pre-Sunnydale times he and Faith had actually connected, a snowball fight on Christmas Eve the year before she was Called. "I'd just like it to bloody snow for once." Rising, he smiled politely at the woman. "I'm sorry, I'm terrible company this time of the year, perils of being hundreds of miles away from home."
"Somehow," the Scandavian flashed him a dazzling smile, "I have the feeling that home is wherever that girl," the woman's long fingernail tapped his laminated photograph, "is."
Giles smiled. "You're probably right. Well, Runa, it was a pleasure. Good-bye."
"Good-bye, Rupert," Runa, wish demon for the bereaved, smiled to herself as the Englishman walked out of the bar. "Wish granted."
"Bloody hell," Giles stopped and gaped as he stepped out of the bar and found himself knee-deep in snow. A terrible suspicion forming, he turned back to the bar and hurried in, only to find Runa had gone, mysteriously disappeared. "Oh, bugger," he muttered. Turning to the bartender, he stopped, his fears confirmed. Gone was the thick-set, florid face he'd come to expect in his fortnightly visits, replaced instead by a rat-faced fellow.
Turning, he hurried out of the smoky bar, wrapping his coat around him in the vain attempt to keep out the lashing cold. He had to find Faith.
If his Slayer even existed in this alternate universe he'd stupidly created. "A wish demon," he mumbled through chattering teeth, "you pillock." Wish demons were creatures controlled by a mysterious arch-demon, preying on the wishes of the emotionally hurt to grant their wishes, warping them in some way to cause the maximum damage. Although to be fair, their existence was only a whispered rumour.
Mainly because no-one had ever survived meeting one.
A long hour later, he'd completed the normally twenty minutes walk home, aghast by the horror he'd created, the snow in some places shoulder high, and the town a deathly silent, snow-white morgue, completely empty of people. Even at its bleakest, Sunnydale had never been this devoid of life.
A dead weight hovering on his chest, Giles trudged up the front path and tried his keys in the front door. For some reason, probably trembling fingers, they wouldn't work. Hoping against hope that Faith was inside, he knocked impatiently on the front door, shivering helplessly in the bitter, cutting cold. "Whose is it?"
Giles blinked in confusion at the drunken voice inside his house. If Faith had a young man inside, he would not be happy. He slammed his fist on the door again. "Open the bloody door!"
Seconds later, the door swung open to reveal a tall, pot-bellied man with three days' stubble and alcohol-hazy eyes. A drunk carrying a pistol, a quite calamitous combination in Giles' estimation. "Is Faith here?" he demanded.
"Faith?" the man looked puzzled before belching and scratching his groin. Oh dear god, thought Giles with a shudder, let me die now. "Ah," the man's eyes brightened. "The tramp who hangs with my boy and his group," Giles' eyes hardened at the man's insult to his Slayer but mindful of the gun he didn't otherwise react. "They're always hanging at the library," the man's lips parted in a sneer, "much good it does him. Alex's grades stink. Poor genes from his mom," the man concluded before slamming the door shut.
Alex. Giles blinked at the closed door. "Xander's father," he whispered. Shoving aside the question as to how the Harrises ended up living in his home as unimportant next to the fact that his Slayer was alive, Giles started towards the school.
He just hoped in this alternate universe the place had central heating. And was in the same place.
"I'm ready to kick some demon ass!"
Samuel Zabuto forced a smile at his Slayer's butchery of the English language. His Slayer was a fine young woman, albeit with more than a few rough edges, but the progress she'd made since he'd adopted her out of a Boston state home five years ago through sheer strength of will astonished her. He just wished she'd pay more attention to her studies. But then he also wished she'd safely reached the cut-off age of 18 without being called. "You be careful out there," he softly counselled.
Despite recent events, his adopted child's smile had lost none of its beauty to him. "Careful ain't no fun."
Zabuto stared pointedly at Faith's left cheek. "Careful gets you through the night uninjured," he reproved, a note of sternness entering his voice.
Faith flinched at the reminder. "We'll be careful," she promised.
"Don't see the point, we're all doomed."
Zabuto and his Slayer exchanged worried glances before looking towards the library table. Sat behind it was a sunken cheeked youth, his eyes hollow and despairing. The death of his girl-friend, Cordelia Chase, and best friend, Willow Rosenberg, a month ago had broken the previously annoyingly optimistic Xander Harris. Where before the boy had always been a morale-booster to the other teens, if a continual irritation to him, the youth was now moody and brooding, listlessly taking part in their activities. Zabuto suspected he only continued to come here because it was marginally better than staying home.
"Hey X," Faith turned to the slouched boy, "maybe you wanna go out with us tonight. Help kick some giant ass?" The youth shrugged and shook his head. His Slayer's eyes flickered with frustrated pain before turning back to him. "We'll be back in two hours, k?"
"Very well," Zabuto nodded as his child hurried out, her friends flanking her. "Now," he started to go through some books newly shipped from England at great risk, hoping that there was some clue, a hint to indicate what had caused the snow that had engulfed the world for the past ten years, "let's see what we have here."
"You alright, Faith?"
"Five by five, Wolfie," Faith grinned at the rock guitarist stood beside her, her heart lifting as always by the sight of her blue-haired boyfriend. "It's just, X, ya know?"
"I know," Oz nodded. "But I get it. If I lost you," the werewolf sighed.
"Yeah?" Faith queried.
"Yeah," Oz half-smiled. "It would take me weeks to find a blow-up doll with the right dimensions."
"Asshole!" Faith laughed and punched her boyfriend in the shoulder. Unmindful of the others, she laid her head on Oz's shoulder. "It's just, he was the first." Her boyfriend raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue. "The first guy who was my bud, not just after me for the goodies. He was the first Scooby, and it's tearing me apart not being able to do shit."
"We keep him safe," Jesse comforted. "That's something."
"Maybe a makeover?" Jesse's girl-friend commented. "That always cheers me up."
Everyone turned to the busty blonde. "Harmony, what have I told you about thinking before talking?" Faith reproved.
"That's always assuming she can," Larry muttered. Devon laughed before kissing his boyfriend's neck.
Faith grinned at the good-natured bickering going on around her. No matter how down she got, her buds could always be relied on to keep her spirits up. "Hey!" Amy put in, "is that a man over there?"
"Fuck!" Faith cursed as she noticed the silhouette of a man, moving through the town, heading unerringly towards them. What sort of idiot was out at this time? And moving through one the frost giants' most favoured hunting grounds no less? "Let's go."
Her friends followed her at a jog. Within a couple of minutes they were at the shivering man, he was a guy in his mid-forties, good shape for his age, and kinda cute in a nerdy sort of way. Will would have dug him for damn sure.
The man's eyes widened when he saw her, his bluing lips pulling up into a shivering smile. "Faith! Thank god! It's good to see you!" Faith squinted at the man's exclamation, she'd never seen the dude before. The man's face fell. "Oh Faith, what happened?"
Faith flinched when the man reached to touch her ravaged left cheek, torn apart in a fight with a frost giant six months ago, the poison in the beast's claws ensuring the wound still itched and stung. "Who the fuck are you?" she demanded, her anger at being reminded about her wound bubbling through.
The man tore his eyes from her scar to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry," the man apologised. "I'm Rupert Giles, in another reality I was your Watcher-."
"That's whack!" she exploded. "Samuel Zabuto's my Watcher!"
"Samuel?" The man smiled. "A good man. But in my world he was Kendra's Watcher."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Faith demanded. But on the other hand, the dude did know her.
"Faith," Oz interrupted, tone tense. "Maybe we should be moving."
"Yeah," Faith agreed before looking challengingly at the Englishman. "You're coming with."
The man smiled at her. "Five by five."
"Yeah, sure," Faith gaped before shaking her head. The dude definitely knew her, but from where? Faith's brow furrowed, maybe he was a plant like that W&H bitch who'd been made to look like her mom. Quelling the urge to behead the bastard on the spot, she spoke. "So how come you got here?"
The Englishman scowled. "Not my finest moment I'm afraid-."
A pair of frost giants erupted out of the snow behind them, their shaggy white fur meaning that only their golden eyes, flashing claws, and gleaming teeth were visible. The stranger roared in pain as one of the claws ripped through his back, blood showering through the always winter air.
Leaping forward, Faith flung her axe into the air, the sharp blade crunching into the space between the demon's eyes, dropping it with a howl. At the same time, Oz, Jesse, Larry, and Devon unleashed crossbow bolts into its partner, likewise killing it.
"Fuck!" Faith leapt over to the crumpled, convulsing man lying on the ground. "You're gonna be five by five," she lied as she held the man.
"No I'm not." The self-described Watcher smiled at her, blood staining his teeth, the knowledge of approaching death in his eyes. "I've caught you in enough fibs to know when you're lying. But that doesn't matter," the man shook his head. "It's a wish demon, Runa," the man coughed. "If you destroy her power base, you'll reverse anything. And no matter what," the man reached up, stroking her hair, "I was always proud-." Faith felt a strange sense of loss as the last of the man's blood bubbled out of his mouth, crimson droplets both falling onto the snow beneath them and staining her leather jacket.
"Faith," she started at Oz's hand on her shoulder. "We have to get out of here."
"Yeah," after a long look at the corpse she rose. "Back to base, we gotta see Boss Man."
Yamir looked up at the sound of his throne room door being flung open and his chief subordinate, proud Asvido, whose left ear had been taken by that bitch of a Slayer, prowling into his inner chamber. Yamir rose off his throne made of human thigh bones, a smile parting his gaping mouth. "You have them I see," his gleaming teeth flashed in the dark making the hostages whimper in terror. "Well done, our wonderfully heroic Slayer won't be able to resist running head-long into our trap. And then we'll feast on her flesh!"
"Boss Man!" Zabuto looked up at the sound of his Slayer's strident voice. "We got big -, who the fuck is that!"
Zabuto glanced towards the corpse led on the floor by the door to his office, the man's left arm ripped off. "That was Mr. Snyder, the principal of Sunnydale Elementary," he sighed. "It appears that one of his buses broke down and the children on-board were snatched by the frost giants." He paused, heart heavy. "He risked coming across town to tell us." Zabuto shook his head. Mr. Snyder must have been a remarkable man, to get all the way here, even after having one arm torn off. The cold would have slowed the blood loss, but even so, it showed true dedication to his students.
"How many?" Faith asked her face ashen grey.
"About twenty-five."
"FUCK!" His Slayer exploded, kicking over the table, knocking books flying. She turned back to the door, long hair swinging angrily. "I best go rescue them!"
Oz stepped into the Slayer's path. "What about what the guy said?"
"He was talking bullshit."
"He knew you, Faith," Jesse pointed out.
"What guy?" Zabuto put in, anxious to stall, put off the inevitable for as long as possible.
His charge turned around to face him and shrugged. "Some dude named Rupert Giles-."
"Rupert Giles!" Zabuto felt his legs almost buckle beneath him.
"You know the guy?" Faith looked at him in puzzlement.
"The Slayer before you, a Miss. Buffy Summers died in a fire killing a demon called Lothos. Her Watcher was also believed to have died with her, he was a Rupert Giles. He said he knew you?"
"Yeah," Faith looked as bemused as he felt. "Said something about you being the Watcher to some chick called Kendra."
Zabuto was vaguely amused to note that from the jealous look in his Slayer's eyes, just the thought of him being someone else's Watcher turned her borderline homicidal. However that amusement was submerged under concern at what the ravishing brunette was saying. "There is a Kendra, Kendra Merrick, amongst the potentials. It was commonly thought that she, rather than you would be called after Miss. Summers."
Faith's mouth dropped. "Oh fuck," she croaked.
"Well, my sentiments precisely," he said sarcastically. "perhaps you better tell me what else Mr. Giles said." He listened with growing excitement as his charge talked. "It's just possible," he muttered. "We'll have to summon Runa," he realised Faith was heading towards the door. "Where are you going?" he demanded.
His charge turned to him, eyes impatient. "I don't have time for this shit," she growled. "Missing kids, remember?"
"It'll be a trap."
"Well shit, Sherlock," Faith snorted at Xander's comment. "I got that one already. But I ain't gonna sit around doing fuck all like some I could mention."
"If we stop Runa, the children will no longer be missing," Zabuto pointed out.
Faith looked at him for a long second before finally shaking her head. "Too risky, if this is bullshit, we wait, the kids die anyhow. I'm going."
Zabuto pursed his lips. What the teen was saying made a disturbing sense. "Very well, then in that I'll stay here and try the summonsing spell. But someone will have to stay and help me, Wish demons are rumoured to be very strong."
"I'll help." Everyone turned towards Xander. The teen shrugged at everyone's surprised looks. "It's a chance to get Cordelia and Willow back, right?"
"Indeed it is," Zabuto nodded.
"Boss Man, can I talk to you in your office?"
Zabuto's forehead furrowed at the pensive look on the brunette super-hero's face. "But of course," rising, he walked over and opened the door. "After you."
"Thanks." Once inside, the teen turned to him. "If this Giles guy wasn't a fucking nut it means," the girl swallowed, "it means when everything changes you won't be my Watcher anymore, right?"
Zabuto grimaced. "That is possibly correct."
He was observant enough to notice the tears that briefly welled in the brunette's eyes, but far too discreet to mention them. "Well, I'd just like to say, I really lo-," the girl coughed. "I really appreciate all the stuff you did, for me thanks." The girl strode out of the office. "Guys, saddle up! Time to kick some giant ass!"
Zabuto smiled sadly as the girl walked out. "Yes Faith, I love you too," he whispered.
Faith slammed her foot into the cavern door. The entrance flew open with a highly satisfying crack. It felt good to have something to take her frustrations out, what with the thoughts of losing her Watcher, her mind plaguing her with thoughts of whether this other reality be any better for her than the current one. Zabuto was the nearest thing to a parent she'd ever had, she'd never know her pop, and her mom was a worthless slut who didn't give a shit what happened to her daughter as long as she had money for crack.
But Zabuto, he cared. Yeah, he was wicked strict, but he'd never let any one take advantage of her or try to himself, and he never hit her, even before she had her powers. That English dude had seemed on the level, but who the fuck knew? And she hadn't liked the easy way he'd touched her scar, not even Zabuto would do shit like that.
Shoving her own concerns aside as selfish, ten years of worldwide snow, that had to end, she strode into the darkened chamber, friends flanking her and her eyes searching the darkness. "Yo! Yamir! How about you get your mangy ass out here now?"
"Slayer, time to die!"
Faith gulped inwardly when a frost giant stepped out of the shadows. Most of the frost giants stood around eight - nine feet tall. This bastard stood close to twelve, with a thick powerful build to match. Forcing her terror down deep, she hefted her battle ax. "Your lines?" Faith raised her axe. "Who wrote them, a Roseanne writer?" Geez, she just hoped in the alternate reality that piece of shit got cancelled.
"That's the summonsing ritual?"
Zabuto nodded nervously at Xander's question, the pentagram seemed correct, and the spell was clear enough. It was just no one had ever been stupid enough to try this before. "I suggest you hide yourself Mr. Harris, element of surprise, remember?"
"Sure." The youth nodded before ducking behind the library counter.
No sooner had the teen done so, when a swirling vortex made up of crackling black energy appeared, shaking the entire library until it cleared to reveal a beautiful blonde.
"You dare summon me!" thundered the demon. "You dare demand my presence?"
"Oh dear," Zabuto breathed. It would appear she was a tad irritated. Gathering himself he spoke. "I demand you remove the wish -, ugh!"
His words were cut off by the demon lunging across the pentagram to grab him around his throat and lifting him off the ground. "Remove a wish?" she screamed. "I don't remove wishes."
Yamir beamed as his tribe stepped out of the shadows, surrounding the Slayer, she might bluster, but he could smell her fear. His smile broadened as he noticed something. "Such a pretty scar."
The raven-haired warrior's eyes darkened. "You bastard!" As he'd expected, the Slayer charged him, flailing axe leading the way. Grabbing the weapon's shaft, he smashed a paw into her face, her jaw shattering with a pleasing crunch.
The girl hit the floor in a heap, but to her credit, she rolled right back up. Laughing to himself, he threw the axe to her feet. Without a weapon, not even a Slayer was a challenge.
The bleeding girl snarled before smoothly scooping the weapon up. When she came in this time, she came in more cautious, blood still seeping down her face. Suddenly she darted to his left, he moved to block her, and she turned, her axe blade ripping through his side above his hip, blood bursting forth.
Pain making his breath shorten, Yamir exploded. His roar shaking the cavern, he hit the girl with a backhanded slap, knocking her back a step. The female warrior swayed before diving back in, leading with the pointed tip of her axe.
Yamir grimaced when he parried the attack, the tip tearing into his blocking paw. Ignoring the pain he lunged forward, grabbing the girl by her neck and flinging her into the wall behind.
The girl twisted in mid-air, ensuring that she hit it shoulder rather than head first, but on landing she let out an anguished scream, her right ankle twisting unnaturally beneath her. Before she had time to recover he was on her, knocking the axe to the ground, he lifted her overhead by her hair and belt before bringing her down hard on his knee, the sound of bone cracking echoing in his ears.
"Slayer," he breathed in the limp girl's terror, her spine shattered and raised her to his mouth. Of all humans, a Slayer tasted the finest.
"This is for Will and Cor, bitch!"
The demon screamed when Xander's axe cut through the top of her head, but most worryingly didn't die. Which didn't bode well for either of them if the rest of the plan didn't work. Forcing aside his worries, Zabuto lunged forward, grabbed the necklace around her neck and yanked it off.
"Wish granted!" Runa blinked when the wish didn't work, she reached for her power necklace around her neck only to find it gone. "Wish granted!" she shouted with increased panic. "N…no."
The Englishman stared strangely at her, his eyes widening. The man chuckled and shook his head. "You almost sounded like a -," he shook his head. "A silly fancy. Well," he stood and smiled. "It's been a pleasure, goodbye, dear."
"Wish granted!" Runa screamed forlornly at the man's departing back.