This is fun.

I should do the whole research thing more often; it's by far more entertaining my way than watching Giles get his geek-groove on.

Just how often does he have four Unholy Creatures - possibly from the Foul Pits of the Neverworld - spellbound and eating out of his hands like little puppies?

Not that I would actually hand feed Foul Fiends so much as, you know, lop off their heads and scatter their entrails. The feeding thing would just be gross. For all I know Fiend Saliva is highly corrosive and I'd have to invest a fortune in hand-cream just to repair the damage.

Better stick with the whole stopping-the-spread-of-their-evil deal. It's so much simpler in the long run.

Where was I?

Oh right, evil.

I don't think that any of the occupants of the room I'm currently in actually fall into the evil camp per-se, I mean I have at first hand experienced that they can be callous and crass, at least towards their own kind and the Jury is still out on the amazing personality deficient Clay.

However, the last time I checked, having a facial expression arsenal consisting only of snarls, growls, scowls and sneers isn't a crime, just unfortunate.

Maybe the wind will change and his face will stick like that. Not that I think anyone will be able to notice the difference. At the very least he'll get his comeuppance in wrinkles.

I personally have never prescribed to this whole, black and white philosophy of morality, if you believe that things are either good or bad and never in between, how do you explain Jerry Springer?

Or mars bars?

Or the Sci-Fi Channel?

Nope, I'm a friend of the good old moral ambiguity, and not just because I'm still not entirely sure just which camp I actually belong to. Sure, jail taught me my lesson- killing bad- crocheting evil, but what does that actually mean?

I get that you shouldn't kill defenceless little Assistant Mayors who are only looking for you to spill their weasely little guts about evil plots afoot and then when you've realised what you've done, you should definitely not go tell the nice Watcher that Buffy made you do it, but really, how often does that actually happen in one lifetime? In the end effect, I think this whole no-killing-humans rule for Slayers is stupid.

That doesn't mean that I think we should have carte blanche to do whatever we want, Slayers may be the supernatural police force but that is not the same thing as being a killer and we should never feel that we are above the law, because then things like me happen.

However, I think that it's this whole no killing humans thing is a rule that leads to the belief that all demons are automatically evil and all humans are basically good.

Which they aren't.

The scariest thing about evil is when it has nothing demonic to it whatsoever.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is that the crimes I committed were wrong, and I had succumbed to the darker side of the force. I realize that it was wrong to kill the assistant mayor and that guy Andrew keeps insisting was a Vulcan expert.

They were innocent.

I killed them.

I regret it but I'm not going to cry about it. There's no point. But the fact is, I cannot promise to never kill another human being, I really can't. In the joint I saw such examples of human depravity that I think that under certain circumstances, I would kill again, as a last resort, but a resort I am willing to take. I realize that I have no right to be judge, jury or executioner. That being said, sometimes, someone has to make the decisions that have to be made, when other people cant, even if you know you're going to pay for it.

I wonder if this is how Cromwell felt.

While I've been pondering on this line, the wolves and Jaime have not stopped staring at me. Clay is still doing his I'm-a-hardass growl which (deserves nothing but a sticking out of the tongue by yours truly), Elena is alternately staring at me as if she's filing every move I make for later and sneaking glances at a set of vases on the mantle piece while Jaime has discovered a bottle sherry and is medicating her nerves and Jeremy is looking at me.

Just…looking.

I can't read him at all, he's lot calmer than I would have expected from a werewolf alpha, Oz non-withstanding. His head is cocked slightly to the right and he's studying me, without staring. He smiles at me slightly and I can't help myself, I smile back.

I like him, he's got minerals.

"So whatdaya wanna know pops?"

That earns a snort from Elena; maybe I should tune down the insolence just a spot? At the very least I'll be saving Clay from death by apoplexy, the poor dear looks like he's bust a vein. Jeremy is still smiling though, his eyes flicker to Claytons red face and for a split second his smile turns into a grin.

"Why don't you tell us something about yourself, Miss Summers?"

Ah, it's share time.

"Ok, well, as we've already established, my name is Faith…you can drop the surname, Summers is my highly irritating semi non-blood-related sister…so just Faith will do. Uhm, I'm from Boston originally but I've spent a lot of time down south, I enjoy Thai food, mud wrestling and drum 'n bass. My favourite colour is black and I'm not really a morning person. How about you?"

Stony silence, then:

"Black isn't a colour."

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Jaime Vegas, international superstar and smartass extraordinaire.

"You're right, my bad. How about dark red?"

That get's a nod from Jaime, apparently my choice is acceptable.

Jeremy remains unruffled, even Giles would have cracked by now.

"How fascinating. And may I ask, Faith, what is it that you do when you're not indulging in Thai food or mud wrestling? Something that would explain your presence here for example?"

"Oh you know, this and that, I duck, I dive, I wave and I uhm…weave? I guess you could say I'm a field agent of sorts, working for the Council and whatnot."

That gets a reaction from everybody in the room, particularly Elena:

"You're attached to the council? I've never seen you at any of the meetings, who do you represent?"

"Myself mainly, thankfully we've got Buffy so I don't have to make nice to the suits. Being the second oldest really does have its perks."

"No I mean what race do you represent? Paige would have told me if she was sending one of hers…not that she has anyone now that I think about it…and you don't smell like Aaron or Cassandra. Adam handles his end, so what exactly are you?"

Just as I'm about to answer her question, Jeremy leans forward and asks:

"Just exactly what Council do you represent?"

Ok, now I'm confused. What the fuck are they talking about? What Council? There's more than one? And who are these people they're chatting about?

Also, I resent people sniffing me, it's icky.

"The Watchers Council of course."

"Is that like Trainspotters Anonymous?"

Ouch. I think Jaime's had enough sherry for today.

"What? No! Do I look like I wear anoraks?"

I'm feeling a little bit off balance. Suddenly I'm aware what it must be like to be facing me. Elena on the other hand is seemingly unimpressed:

"So what exactly is it that you watch? Trees? Birds? Squirrels? Impressive rock formations in the sewers of downtown Manhattan?"

"What? I don't watch, a Watcher watches. They observe …supernatural things…like demons and stuff. Monsters, things that eat people? I don't know, it's not really my department. If you're that interested I'll get Wes to send you his CV, it'll have you snoring in seven seconds flat. I'm a Slayer. You know, she who wields the pointy stick and sarky come-back?"

Now everyone is looking just as confused as I'm feeling, everyone except Clay who actually has the gall to laugh at me.

"No you're not. There's no such thing as Slayer, they're a myth, a fairy tale."

Look who's talking.

"That's quite rich coming from a werewolf. And don't call me a myth to my face, it's rude. I'm just as much of a non person as you, thank you very much, and I have feelings too."

"What a load of rubbish! That Travers guy sent you, right? Look, I told him two years ago, I'm not interested in joining a cult that worships little make belief teenage girls. Why don't you go on and toddle back to your boss, tell him we're not interested in any of the games he wants to play and we'll forget all about this little episode. You don't talk about us and we won't be forced to eat you, how does that sound?"

Did he just threaten to eat me? That is so gross! I'm having really nasty mental images right now, but more importantly I'm wondering why Giles never told me they tried to hire this guy.

"Travers tried to recruit you? No wonder you hate me, the guy's a dick. Or was, I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that he got blown up by incorporeal bottom-feeding Evil. We're all very sad about it. The Council is under new management now, and I think I can safely promise that no one there will want to work with you. Ever.

You horrible, mean person you. For your information, I have not been a teenager for almost a year now, thank you. Let me tell you once and for all, I am not make belief. There's no need to get all personal and resort to name calling."

Bastard.

I'm going to sulk now.

Ha! They all deserve to be locked in a room with Andrew.

After he's had three cups of coffee.

Now that everyone has settled down a bit, Jeremy looks up from where he has been studying his nails for the last five minutes and calmly speaks in my direction.

"Right. I think I speak for every other than Clay when I say that I didn't actually understand a word of that. Could you start again from the beginning please?"

I am never volunteering again.

AN:

This chapter sucks. You know it, I know it. I might revise it at some point, but it annoyed me so much I just had get it over and post it.

I've tried to space out the lines and make it more readable, I hope this helped?

Slight reference to the film Snatch, anybody find it? Also, since Canon never actually states how old Faith is, I've decided to make her a year younger than Buffy which means that by my calculations she's now 22. Then again, I failed maths so I could be horribly wrong. Just pretend it was deliberate and go with it.