A.N: To Summersfan (seeing as you don't have an email address).
First, thank you for all the nice stuff you said in your reviews, now to your criticism, mainly regarding the difference between Faith's attitude to Spike and Clem-
1. Spike has killed Slayers, Clem hasn't.
2. Clem has Giles and Xander to vouch for him, Spike doesn't.
3. Spike is a soulless vampire, Clem isn't.
4. Clem never threatened any of their lives, Spike did.
In addition, as far as any one with an ounce of intelligence (ie. Not Buffy) could see there was always a chance Spike's inhibitor chip would fail and he'd be back to murdering in no time. The safest thing to do was take him out of the picture while he was helpless. I never bought noble Spike, unsoulled or not, and to my mind someone as street-smart as Faith wouldn't either, and she wouldn't have any qualms about killing a 'helpless' vampire. Just my opinion, never liked the guy (S2 S4 aside).
I guess just as I like 'Deconstructing Hell' for your chars other than Spike, you like 'She's Gone' for the same reason. (BTW: Anyone reading this, read DH at - http: original plot-line).
FIC: She's Gone (17?)
"It'll be fine Faith."
"What?" Faith glanced away from staring at the phone to look at Pip sat at the Magic Box table doing her homework. Faith allowed herself a small smile. Her as Dawn's babysitter, what crazy alternate universe had her hot little ass been dropped into? "I'm just waiting on some suppliers," she lied.
Dawn grinned knowingly. "You wouldn't be missing a stuffy but kinda cool Englishman would you?"
"Nah," she drawled. "Bond hasn't called since I wore him out that lost weekend in Vegas. And FYI, 007? Real generous, personal experience says more like 004.5" Faith joked. She forced a grin at Dawn's giggle. God she hoped things went okay with the Council. She looked up as the door opened. "Hey Clem!"
"Hi Faith!" The demon grunted slightly as Dawn launched herself into his side before chuckling. "Hello Dawnie." The floppy-eared monster smiled at her. "What lifting needs doing boss?"
Faith resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but just barely. Ever since G had left, Clem had come into the shop every day at closing to check if she needed any heavy lifting doing. Which was sweet and all, but real dumb too. She'd considered arguing, but she didn't want to hurt the big goof's feelings. "Sure Clem," she nodded and smiled at her friend. "There's some crates in the basement I need bringing up."
"I'll show you!" Dawn volunteered with all the eagerness of a teenager looking for any excuse to bail on her studies. Before she had time to object, Dawn had the saggy-skinned creature behind the counter and heading to the steps.
Shaking her head, she returned to her book-keeping, the classes she was taking at the college were really helping. She glanced at her watch to see how long it was 'til closing and sighed. "An hour," she grinned unwillingly. And then X would be here.
"And that concludes my report," Giles looked around the vaunted Council hall, remembering the days the likes of Travers and Whyndham-Pryce had in turn awed and intimidated him. Now he just held these traditionalist pencil-pushers with contempt, cowards that hid behind their desks while children fought their battles for them.
Reminding himself that displaying his disdain could only hurt his charge's chances, he kept a bland expression as he stared at the five men sat before him. "In the past eight months, not only has Faith fought off demon biker gangs, Wolfram Hart assassins, a Malltac, and the Scourge, she has also slain Drusilla," alright that was Dawn, but he was sure the teen wouldn't mind his Slayer taking the credit if it kept her in the Council's good graces, "the killer of her predecessor. In addition, she has proven herself a diligent employee at my shop, has entered into a stable, loving relationship with a young man I consider to be my son, and is studying hard at the local college. All in all, she is blossoming into a well-rounded young woman."
"Yes," Travers seemed less than pleased at his glowing report. "But there is still the question of her worthiness. After all, she has not yet Tested."
"Excuse me?" Giles stared at the Council Head in disbelief. "Faith is almost twenty, two years past her Cruicatmen."
"Yes," Roger Whyndham-Prcye nodded. "And we all know why she didn't face her Cruicatmen at the prescribed time. She was in prison for two murders. She should have been put down at the time, like the mad dog she was. I for one was in favour of turning her life-machine off when she was in her coma," Wesley's father sniffed. "Saved all us a lot of inconvenience."
Giles shoved his hands in his pockets to prevent the panel of senior Watchers from seeing his suddenly clenched fists. "Yes," he nodded slowly, his always tenuous hold on his temper slipping. "One accidental death and the other which might have been avoided if the Council, myself, and," he stared directly at Pryce, the intensity in his eyes, making the older man flinch. "Your son hadn't made terrible mistakes in caring for her-."
"A Slayer isn't to be cared for," Pryce huffed, his face reddening with outrage as he rose out of his chair. "She's a weap-."
"She was a scared girl, you thundering bloody pillock!" Pryce paled at his rage and returned to his seat. After a second, he continued, his voice cold. "A scared girl who'd been forced to watch as the only person she'd ever loved and been loved by was brutalised and murdered before being likewise tortured. A Slayer's body might heal better than a normal human's, but let me assure you, her mind doesn't. Yet despite that, she turned herself into the authorities to receive punishment and so that she wouldn't hurt others. I'd say Faith has been more than tested."
"Huh," he turned his stony gaze onto Travers as the Head Watcher spoke. "You've become notorious not only for the lack of respect you show our organisation but also the unseemly amount of care you show those put into your care. I start to wonder if you were the right choice as Watcher after all. "
Giles reached into his jacket pocket and dropped his trump card on the desk before him. "That is a letter from a Colonel Riley Finn, the head of the UN's demon-hunting unit."
"Amateurs.."
Pryce's voice trailed off at his glare. "Detailing Faith's help in stopping a particularly nasty species of demon from breeding in Sunnydale. It also contains his strong hope that no hostile move that would be taken against an American citizen on American soil."
"The US. Government and even the UN. have no jurisdiction over the Watchers' Council," huffed Travers.
"Perhaps," Giles stared at his titular superior, "I haven't made myself clear. If any attempt is made to hurt Faith or perform such a barbaric test on her, then I'll do what I have should have done when you enacted such savagery on Buffy." His eyes glittered. "Then myself, Angelus, anyone I can pull in from my varied occult contacts, and several dozen US. Special Forces troops will spend the following few weeks making sure every damn one of you pays!"
"How dare you!"
"You are an anachronism Mr. Travers," Giles cut in, his voice disapproving. "I had wished to avoid this confrontation but it seems you insist on pushing for one." He nodded. "Very well. So be it. I resign from the Council-."
"Outrageous!"
"Oh do belt up!" He roared at the man who'd been introduced as Samuel Zabuto. His disdain he could at least understand. If he'd been any sort of Watcher he'd hate the idea of another replacing his Slayer. He continued in a calmer voice. "This meeting is over. Faith has proven her worth a dozen times in the past eight months. Come at her and you can consider me your enemy. And gentlemen, that is something you do not wish to entertain." Turning, he strode out of the room without a second glance.
Willow smiled as she looked at her fellow Wicca and girl-friend. A beautiful spring-day, a picnic, she glanced at the basket, she'd made up earlier, and the woman he loved. "How are you feeling sweetie?"
Her girl-friend didn't open her eyes, just laid back on their garden sheet. "Pretty good, you?"
"The same." Her smile slipped when she considered Faith's presence. That bitch would never be good enough for her Xander. And the way she sneered at her, looked at her as if she was dangerous. She'd made a couple of minor mistakes, but she'd never killed anyone. And bringing her to town to replace Buffy, it was a disgrace. "Something will have to be done," she murmured.
"Sorry sweetie?"
"Nothing Tara," she lied. Rolling onto her side, she leaned into her girl-friend and kissed her. "All these clothes," she whispered. "We can't work up an appetite with them on."
Her only answer was a giggle.
"You've mastered the bindings?" Rack smirked at Amy's nervous nod. "Remember you'll have to be quick, otherwise she'll beat us both. We have to catch her by surprise."
"I won't fail," Amy promised, her eyes hardening. "I want our revenge."
Rack pulled his remaining addict into a hug. "Oh, we'll have it my sweet," he promised. "We'll have it." They'd been forced to run and hide after their confrontation with Angelus but now they were returning to finish off first Strawberry's precious girl and then Strawberry herself. "A dish best served cold," he murmured.
Xander grinned as he glanced at his watch. "Time to go home," he rose, grabbing his coat off the hook. "See you in the morning guys."
"Leaving on the dot?" laughed one of his crew, "not like you boss."
"Have you seen that sweet thing he's poking?" one of the others leered. "Man I'd never ," the man's voice trailed off at his glare.
"Johnson," he said, his voice cold. "It looks like you're going to be getting up early to open up the site all next week. Any other comments?" The man shook his head. "Good," quelling the urge to smash his subordinate's nose through to his brain, he grabbed his bag. "See you guys."
"My, how deliciously carnal."
Willow's head snapped up from kissing her girl-friend, pulling her blouse together even as she glared at the smirking Rack stood in the shadows of trees some thirty feet away. She reached out to magically assault the mage. And gaped when she couldn't find her power. "Thank you my dear," the mage purred before advancing on them.
"You're welcome." Eyes widening, Willow looked behind her to see Amy stood behind her. "Who's in charge now?" her fellow Sunnydale High graduate demanded.
"And now," Rack shook his head as he looked at Tara. "Far too pure. You make me sick." Rack smiled as Tara began to scream. "Ah, nausea over."
Tara writhed under the mage's magical attack, sweat pouring off her body as he bombarded it. She attempted to reach her powers but found them blocked off, something that seemed to have happened to Willow too. She screamed as her heart exploded.
"Those callous, unthinking idiots!" Martha watched as her student paced the floor of his cottage. "All she's endured, the effort she's put in and they think they can just treat her like she's nothing. Less than nothing!"
"She is a kindred spirit isn't she?"
Rupert stopped at her words, his eyes widening. "The girl is less than half my age," her now very proper protégé protested. "And she's dating a boy I consider my son!"
"And once such things wouldn't have mattered in the slightest to you," she needled. Seeing Rupert's eyes darken, she chuckled. "I'm only teasing Rupert. That wasn't what I meant at all. I just thought this Faith sounded more than a little like 'Ripper'."
A wry but pained smile flickered across the middle-aged man's face. "You are right, there's a wildness in her that scares me at times, excites me too," the Englishman admitted. "Makes me remember myself at that age." The light in the Englishman's eyes dimmed. "But there's a desperation there too, something I never had. A need to be loved, cared for. She judges her worth by what others think of her."
"A dangerous cocktail in a Slayer."
"Quite," her student agreed. "Her evil was never as focused as mine, but for all that, she was by far the greater dan," Rupert's eyes widened. "Martha, what's wrong?" the Englishman rushed over to take her in his arms, preventing her from pitching face first to the floor.
It was a struggle to speak, the terror she felt constricting her throat. "Rupert, a great evil has arisen in Sunnydale."
"Faith," Rupert's eyes filled with pain.
"No," she shook her head. "This has magical power. Immense, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to sense her, not at this distance."
Rupert paled. "Willow," he breathed. "What have you done?"
Rack smirked to himself as the witch slumped to the ground, blood pumping out of her ears and nose, staining the grass. "My dear," he turned to the sobbing red-head. Still restrained he noted, while he could attack both Strawberry's partner and magically bind her, Amy had neither the power or the experience to do that. Taking her chin in his hand, he lifted. "Your-."
His voice trailed off when Willow's eyes turned jet-black. Sensing that the Wicca was about to escape her prison, he turned and ran.
Amy's eyes widened in horror as her master hurried away. Realising she'd never be able to hold the enraged witch, she sobbed. "Please Willow," she pleaded. "It was Ra-. ARGGGH!" she screamed as her world turned to pain, bursting into a column of fire.
