Chapter 8 - Of Good Intentions

"Cameron Grey?" Giles said, sounding surprised. "Why, he's the new Slayer's.er Hope Mason's, Watcher. Why do you ask?"

"I have my reasons," Faith replied, gripping the phone a little tighter. "What do you know about him?"

"Well," Giles said, pausing thoughtfully. "I met him at a Watchers' retreat a while back. A clever chap. Good with computers. Seemed to be a real modernist."

"Modernist?"

"Um, yes. As I recall, he had some interesting ideas for bringing the Watchers' Council into the twenty-first century. Even had a few projects on the side that he'd financed with his own money. A comprehensive Watcher database, for one-"

"You mean there isn't one already?"

"Lord no."

"Oh."

"Yes, well, as I was saying, he'd financed these projects with his own money. His family is rather wealthy."

"I see." Faith thought about the three-thousand dollars she'd taken from the dark-haired vampire.

"The Grey's happen to own an auction house in London. Over the years, they've been instrumental in acquiring many rare artifacts for the Council archives."

"Hmmm. This is all really interesting." Faith bit her bottom lip, "but what I really wanna know is if he's."

"If he's what?"

"Evil."

"I.I wouldn't think so."

Faith snorted. "Not like it never happens. Remember that Watcher I had-"

"Gwendolyn Post. But that was different. Believe me, Cameron Grey is Hope's Council appointed Watcher. He has excellent credentials. I don't think there's anything to worry about."

"I'm not so sure." Faith hesitated, then went on to tell Giles about how she'd found the note with Grey's telephone number in the roll of bills lifted from the dark-haired vampire. "I'm not sure about what's going on," she said, "but you've gotta admit, something's fishy here."

Giles agreed. "I'll look into this," he said. "Until then, let's not jump to conclusions just yet."

He was about to hang up when Faith stopped him. Hesitantly, she told him about her run in with Hope.

"I.I told her." she said. "I told her I was a Slayer."

Giles inhaled sharply. "You didn't."

"Yeah, I did. Call me crazy, but I thought I could help her somehow. The girl's a walking time bomb-sound remotely familiar? I just thought." Faith's voice trailed off . "But she didn't want my help, and now she knows. I figure it won't take long for the word to get out. She'll tell her Watcher. He'll alert the boys in London. They'll figure out it's me and then send out the goon squad. I probably should've skipped town, but."

"You were worried about her."

"Yeah."

"Well, perhaps the Council won't figure it out-that you're still alive. And perhaps."

"Perhaps what?"

"I don't want to raise false hope, but I've perceived a change, albeit a gradual one, in the Council-an evolution. The old school. it seems to be dying out. New Watchers are rising to prominence, bringing with them new ideas. There's been talk of Travers being forced into retirement. His actions-ordering your assassination-have caused dissention among the Council members. Many feel that you were wronged."

"You think that maybe someday-I could come out of hiding?"

"I do."

* * *

In a luminescent ten-by-ten cubicle of blue light located in a luxurious loft apartment-turned-training room, she stood poised, a fifty-pound battle- axe in hand. Waiting.

"Who will it be today, Hope?" asked her Watcher, sitting several yards away from her. He surveyed the computer screen in front of him and tapped the tab button several times. Images of various demons briefly flashed on the monitor. "How about a Fyarl?"

Hope glanced at Grey and shook her head. "Nobody hard, okay. I'm tired of getting my ass kicked by a stupid simulation."

"Ah." Grey tabbed several more times and stopped on the image of an ordinary-looking vampire. "Let's just go with a vampire then-one fresh from the grave."

Hope nodded. "Fine."

Grey hit "enter" and a vampire of medium stature, wearing a brown tweed suit materialized in front of her. He snarled at her, all yellow eyes and pointy teeth, and took a swipe at her midsection. Hope backpedaled out of the way then swung her axe at the vampire's head, missing by almost a foot.

The vampire growled and advanced on her, grabbing for the axe. Hope retreated, almost to the edge of the wall of light. She shifted the axe out of the vampire's reach, barely maintaining her balance. The simulated demon then lunged for her, successfully knocking her out of the computer- generated arena. Hope fell down hard on her backside as the cubicle of light and vampire's image disappeared.

Hope arose to her feet, cursing. "I thought you said he was fresh from the grave! That guy had to have at least a level four-"

"No. He was only a level one vampire. We can't get much lower than that, unless you want to fight simulated grandmothers."

"Well, I still say-"

"Hope, maybe we should work on your concentration. Have you been doing the meditation exercises I taught you?"

Hope walked over to where her Watcher was sitting and sank down into the black leather chair next to his. "What's the point?" she asked.

"Excuse me?"

"I said what's the point. I'm no good at this Slayer stuff. You know it as well as I do."

"Hope-"

"I don't know what idiot upstairs decided that I would be the champion of champions, the defender of good, the blah, blah, blah, whatever bull story they give you, but I think they made a mistake."

"There's no mis-"

"Every night I go out there, I get this close to becoming urban road kill. It's scary. But you know what's even scarier?"

Grey shook his head.

"What's even scarier is that sometimes I think that I'd be better off." Hope's voice became low. A whisper. "I just want it to be over." She turned to her Watcher and looked him directly in the eyes. "I can't do this."

Grey's brows furrowed. "Hope, you know that you just can't stop being what you are. You know that you're-"

"What? The only one?"

"Yes. Except for Buffy Summers, of course-"

"But you're wrong. There're more Slayers out there. I know it. I met one."

"That's impossible."

"No. It's true. I ran into her last night. She was strong like me. She said.she said she was a Slayer."

"She was lying. Probably a vampire playing with your head."

"I don't think so. Something about her." Hope frowned. "She said she'd been watching me. That she knew what I was going through. She said she wanted to help me."

Grey's eyes narrowed. "What did this 'Slayer' look like?"

"Um. Brown hair. Kind of wavy. Brown eyes. A little taller than me."

Grey turned to his computer and typed furiously for several seconds. A girl's image appeared on the screen. Hope glanced over his shoulder and her eyes widened.

"That's her," she said, staring at what looked like a police mug shot. "That's the girl I met last night."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."