Faith the Vampire Slayer:
The Master
2. Bad Eggs
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Principal Flutie's office was beige and brown. Nothing on his desk was sharp or heavy. His suit was gray with a light blue shirt and dark paisley tie. He was just heavy set enough to be out of shape. Everything in the office said inoffensive. It would have screamed it but that might have offended someone.
Faith's school records were the most colorful thing in the room. Flutie gave a cursory glance at them before sitting down. He saw low grades and frequent absences. "Faith Lehane, freshman, coming to us all the way from Boston. Interesting record, quite a career..." Flutie tore the page into four pieces, "Welcome to Sunnydale! A clean slate, Faith, that's what you get here. What's passed is past. We're not interested in what it says on a piece of paper, even if it says... Whoa."
"Mr. Flutie…"
He interrupted her, "All the kids here are free to call me Bob."
"Bob…"
"But they don't," He began reassembling the torn sheet.
"Bob," Faith repeated firmly. "I know my transcripts are a little... ok, they're terrible. But see that's why I'm here."
He glanced up at her.
"I was in a bad situation. My mom… drinks. She couldn't deal. Not with life, bills or me. I was angry and going to school in a bad neighborhood. Not a good combo. Then I found out that my dad ain't dead; he's in prison." She sighed, "I ditched school, caught a bus and went to see him. We talked. He told me I should stay with Uncle Rupert until mom sobers up, get's her act together. Things'll be different here, I promise. Everything'll be five by five."
"Don't worry. Any other school they might say 'watch your step', or 'we'll be watching you'. But, that's just not the way here. We want to service your needs, and help you to respect our needs." He put the poorly repaired sheet back into her file.
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Faith headed to health, her first class of the day. The instructor was writing 'SEX' on the board when she arrived.
"Goody," Faith gave a wan smile and handed him the note from Flutie.
"I'm Mr. Whitmore. Take a seat; you can get to know people on your own time."
Faith found an empty desk next to Xander.
"The sex drive in the human animal is intense. How many of us have lost countless productive hours plagued by unwanted sexual thoughts and feelings?"
Xander began to raise his hand and nod but Faith grabbed the elbow of his checkered overshirt and pulled it down.
"Of course, for teenagers, such as yourselves, these feelings are even more overwhelming. With all sorts of hormones surging through your bodies, compelling you to action, it's often difficult to remember that there are negative consequences to having sex. Would anyone care to offer one such consequence?"
The attractive brunet Faith had bumped into at the Bronze raised her hand. She had on a black turtleneck and a leopard print miniskirt. Mr. Whitmore nodded to her, giving her the floor.
"Well, that depends; are you talking about sex in the car or out of the car?"
Mr. Whitmore looked confused.
"Because I have a friend, not me, that was in a Miata at, parked at the top of the hill, and then she kicked the gearshift, and, and..."
Mr. Whitmore interrupted, "Yeah, I, I was thinking of something a little more commonplace, Ms. Chase."
Willow raises her hand; he nodded again to indicate that she should speak.
"How about pregnancy? That would be a major one, right?" Willow blushed.
"Thank you, Ms. Rosenberg!"
Willow smiled smugly.
"Among teens unwanted pregnancy is the number one negative consequence of sexual activity. So, as discussed last week, I present you with..." he swept a sheet off of two trays of eggs, "...your offspring. You will split into parenting teams. You and your partner will share equally in the daily task of raising your egg. Now, please choose a partner and come pick up your children."
The attractive girl immediately grabbed the shirtsleeve of the boy sitting across from her, "You wanna have a baby?"
Faith, Willow, Amy and Xander waited until the other pairs had selected their egg. "So, who gets Xander?" Faith asked.
"You can have him if you want," Amy offered.
"Do I get a say in this?" Xander raised an eyebrow at her.
"Nope," Willow grabbed an egg.
"Well, looks like it's just you, me and Xander Jr."
"Aw, I wanted to name him scramble," Faith stuck her lower lip out.
"You are no longer allowed to name children or pets," Xander took an egg from the tray.
"Oh, Mr. Whitmore," Willow turned around, "Are these fertilized eggs? Because I can't have pets, and Amy's mom is allergic to feathers."
"No, they're not."
"Good," She sat back down as Mr. Whitmore explained the 'egg diary.'
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The quartet entered the library later that afternoon. Giles looked up from his newspaper, "Why do you have eggs?"
"Well, you know, it's the whole 'sex leads to responsibility' thing, which I personally don't get," Xander answered. "You gotta take care of the egg. It's a baby. You gotta keep it safe and teach it Christian values."
"Our egg is Jewish," Willow pouted.
"Then teach it that Dreidel song," the boy placated.
Willow smiled at that.
"Yeah, the only thing that stresses me is when do we tell them that they're adopted?" Amy joked.
The teens all chuckled at that.
"So," Faith grinned at Giles, "Grandpa, are we training here or at home?"
"Don't call me that," the librarian grumbled. "We'll train here."
"Sweet," She moved to get the mats out. "Can Xander train too?"
Giles sighed, took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Only so long as he can keep up with you." He turned to the boy, "I do hope your medical insurance is paid up."
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"Okay, Xander Jr. has had his bath, been fed, burped, and changed," Faith checked off each item on the list.
"Did you make boiled eggs?" Giles asked.
"Seemed like a waste to boil him alone." Faith passed him an egg salad sandwich and began munching on her own. She frowned slightly at the taste.
Giles took a bite, "Ugh! I believe these eggs are off."
Faith shrugged, "Better that week old bread scrounged out of a bakery dumpster."
"Oh, Faith," the watcher said softly.
"What?"
"I'll make dinner," Giles began pulling out a pair of steaks. "And would you like a packed lunch tomorrow?"
"Sure, I guess," Faith cocked her head at him. He just gave her a sad little smile and asked how she liked her steak. They talked all through dinner; mostly about her and what she liked.
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Giles walked out from behind the stacks to get more books to shelve. Xander, Willow, Amy and Faith were at the bottom of the steps looking up at him. "Oh! Why are you lot hanging about? Don't you have classes to go to?"
"Health got canceled," Faith told him.
"Mr. Whitmore's out. Couldn't find an egg sitter or something," Xander joked.
"Well, then, can you give me a hand?"
"Sure!" everyone but Willow replied cheerfully.
"Willow, are you feeling alright?" Giles asked the girl. "You seem a little sluggish."
She shrugged and sat at the study table clutching the basket her egg was in.
"Are you quite sure everything's alright?" he pressed.
"Maybe something I ate," she mumbled.
"Or perhaps it's the burden of parenthood. Notice how seriously you've taken this egg thing," Xander ribbed her. He took Xander Jr. out of his shirt pocket. "While we, in turn, have, uh, well, chosen a more balanced approach." He tossed the egg to Faith, who tossed it back.
"Xander, maybe you shouldn't," Willow began.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about," He continued to toss the egg. "You can't stress over every little thing! A child picks up on that. Which is a one-way ticket to neurotic city." He tossed the egg to Amy but missed her return.
Amy and Willow gasped in fright as the egg hit the floor. Xander picked the unbroken egg up while throwing a sheepish grin at Faith.
"It didn't break!" Willow gasped. "How come it didn't break?" She narrowed her eyes at Xander.
"Which is another secret to conscientious egg care: a pot of scalding water and about eight minutes," The boy replied.
"You boiled your young?" Willow gaped at him.
"Not me, Faith."
"I know it sounds cruel," the slayer said, "but sometimes you gotta be cruel to be kind! I mean, you can bet that Xander Jr. is thick-skinned now."
"Isn't that, technically, cheating?" Amy looked at Xander as she shelved a large tome. At the back of the shelf was an egg.
"No! It's like a shortcut. You know, when you run a race?" he tried.
"That would also be cheating," Amy laughed.
"You should be ashamed," Willow glared at Faith.
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The night watchman walked along the corridor checking doors to ensure that they were locked. He stopped at the intersection and glanced each way. To his right the door to the basement stood ajar. He moved over to it. He opened the door wider. The watchman looked inside then went down the steps making no attempt to be quiet. At the bottom he found the doors to the boiler room were open. He stepped in and tried the light switch. Nothing happened.
"Hello?" He called pulling out his Maglite. "Is anybody in here?"
He turned the flashlight on and continued into the room. Just past the boilers, there was a huge hole in the concrete wall hidden behind a stack of boxes. The watchman moved cautiously over to the stack with his flashlight held over his shoulder like a bat, lighting the way but ready to swing if need be.
No one was there. He set his Maglite down and pushed a stack of boxes aside. A tunnel continued on beyond the hole. Grabbing his flashlight again he stepped up to look into the hole.
His was oblivious to the approach of Mr. Whitmore behind him. He would have been shocked to see the teacher carrying a pickax and dumbfounded when the man struck him with it, knocking him unconscious.
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The next day at lunchtime Xander was snacking on a candy bar. He looked down at the off-brand chocolate coated treat as he chewed the unyielding caramel, "Mm, Cardboardy." The boy sat on the wall and finished the rest of the candy bar. "Still hungry." Xander opened his satchel and dug through it. He pulled his egg out. He regarded Xander Jr. for a moment. Sighing Xander decided, "Sorry, Junior, but a man's gotta eat." He tapped the egg on the wall next to him and rolled it back and forth under his hand. Xander smiled and nodded at the girls when he noticed them heading his way. "Hey." He held up the egg, ready to take a bite. Xander looked back to the egg as he raised it to his face. A purplish-gray creature, dead from being boiled, was curled inside. A startled shout escaped him as he tossed the egg away.
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They entered the library and called frantically, "Giles! Giles!"
"What?" he asked emerging from the stacks.
Faith thrust the half peeled egg at him.
"Gyughhh!" Giles flinched back from the hard-boiled demon embryo.
"I see your 'Gyughhh!' and raise you a Nyaghhh!" Xander huffed, "I almost ate that thing."
"What is it?" the watcher asked.
"Xander Jr.," Faith told him.
"So, now I guess, uh, we know what happened to Mr. Whitmore," Xander said.
"He saw this and ran away?" Amy asked hopefully.
"Without warning the students that their egg-babies are contaminated?" Faith frowned. "I don't think so."
"Faith?" Giles pointed to a thick book, "Would you get me that tome out of the cage?"
The slayer did as she was asked. Giles shut and locked the cage door behind her. Furrowing her brow Faith kicked the door open. It struck him in the face.
"Oh, bloody perfect," He went down with a thud.
Willow brained Amy with a thick tome. Then she turned to Xander.
"Willow! What..." he shouted.
Faith punched the girl in the back of the head.
"What are we gonna do?" Xander asked.
"See if you can wake Amy. We can't fight these things until we know something about 'em. So we look it up," the slayer answered. She drug Giles and Willow to the cage.
"In what?" the boy asked while he checked on their friend.
"A book," she said slowly.
"Which one?"
"I'll start with this one," she moved to grab the tome Giles had specified earlier. One of the grey-purple creatures leaped at her from behind the book. Faith shrieked, but managed to bat the thing away on pure reflex. She grabbed the thick book and slammed it down on the wriggling creature. "Gross," She lifted the goo covered tome. Tossing it on the table Faith went into Giles' office to grab some paper towels.
"Even with Amy this'll take forever," Xander complained. He helped the girl into a chair.
"Yeah," Faith called back. "Plus we don't know if the book we need is even here." She sighed, "Slayers are not cut out for research."
Xander snorted, "Yeah, well we're short one Watcher guy, we gotta try."
"We're short one Watcher guy, but maybe we can get a hold of the Watcher's Council!" Faith came out of the office with the Rolodex. She navigated her way through the phone system and finally reached the home office. "Is this Quintin Travers?"
"Yes. What can I do for you, Miss Lehane?" a gruff British voice asked her.
"I need you to look up a creature…"
"Why?"
"Because you're a watcher, what else are you good for? Your job is to help the slayer. Look this thing is latched onto Giles' spine. I need to know how to stop it. So, grab a book and start looking for a mind control parasite, scorpion-like, about a foot long, purple-grey, slimy, six legs, bulky mandibles, eggs like a chicken."
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A line of students led up to the hole. One by one they stepped through and slowly made their way down the tunnel. At the end, they found a cavern twice as wide as it was tall with a deep pit on the far side. A path of crude plywood ramps made the uneven ground safe to traverse.
Strong and able-bodied students were given pickaxes, shovels and other digging equipment to excavate more of the floor. Less fit students were pulling eggs from the crevices, cleaning them and placing them in boxes. Mr. Whitmore and the night watchman stood sentry, ensuring each new entry was assigned a suitable task.
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"Bezoar? Like the hairball of a goat?" the slayer asked into the phone.
"Yes, the spelling and pronunciation are the same," Travers answered. "It is a pre-historic parasite. The mother hibernates underground, laying eggs. The offspring then attaches to a host, taking control of their motor functions through neural clamping."
"That sounds unpleasant," Faith grimaced. "How do I get it off of Giles?"
"Do not attack the parasites directly," he warned. "While not a hive mind they do communicate telepathically through the Bezoar. Each parasite will either be enlarging the den or acquiring more hosts. The hosts are worked into exhaustion. The Bezoar then eats expended hosts. You must sneak into its den and kill the Bezoar before it can reassign the parasites to attack you."
"How are we going to find the den?"
Before she could get an answer screams of desperation rang out from the hall. "Somebody help me! Get this thing off me! Get this... Somebody help me! Help!"
Faith and Xander ran into the hall. A short boy with dark hair – Jonathan Livingston from her Algebra class if Faith remembered correctly – was struggling with a parasite. Still screaming the boy fell to the floor. The screaming stopped and Jonathan got back up.
"Are you okay?" Xander asked
"I'm fine. I slipped," was the emotionless reply. Jonathan turned and headed down the hall.
Faith and Xander exchanged a look. Xander shot back into the library to let Amy know that they were following Jonathan to the Bezoar den. He then ran to catch up Faith.
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Jonathan walked into the boiler room and headed straight for the hole in the wall. Faith and Xander cautiously slipped into the room as Jonathan climbed through the hole. The pair followed him into the tunnel.
The digging and egg gathering activity continued in the Bezoar den. Faith and Xander peeked into the room.
"I'm gonna need a weapon. A big weapon," Faith whispered.
"I'll handle it. Um, can you, uh, hold down the fort?" Xander asked with more confidence than he felt.
"Yeah," Faith replied, nodding.
Xander walked into the room staring blankly ahead. A large brunette boy handed Xander a chunk of rock to carry away. He took it but quickly dropped it to the side. He passed the night watchman to get to the pile of digging tools. Grabbing a pair of pickaxes Xander made his way back to Faith.
Together they advanced toward the pit, tapping their pickaxes on the rock here and there as they went. Faith jumped into the pit. She slashed at the Bezoar, ripping its flesh. The monster's screams reverberated through the cavern.
The digging activity in the room came to a stop. As the students and teachers gathered around the pit to watch Xander spotted a tentacle slithering toward Faith. He leaped into the pit between her and it. He slammed the pick into the tentacle pinning it to the floor.
Streaked with slime and panting Faith pierced the eye of the creature. She struck the bulbous orb again and again. Vitreous oozed out of the large socket. The Bezoar finally went silent.
The hosts collapsed to the floor, the parasites falling from their backs.
Faith helped Xander climb out of the pit. "I need a serious shower," the slayer wiped various slimes from her face and arms.
Xander nodded, "You can head to the girls' locker room I'll go check on the gang."
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"Yes, yes, uh, i-i-it was a-a, a gas leak, everyone. Uh, well, just, uh, get some air, and a... good night's rest, you know, uh, you'll be fine. These gas things... will happen," Giles stuttered through an explanation to the students milling about. He turned to Xander as the boy approached him, "W-w-what was it really?"
"Mind control parasites," Xander tried to sound casual. Sirens were blaring in the distance.
Giles nodded, "How is Faith?"
"Tired and worried about you. She's getting cleaned up."
"Did I…"
"Tried to lock her in the book cage. She kicked the door in your face." Xander gave him a lopsided grin. "Trust me, she knows it wasn't you. She's fine, G."
Giles touched the bridge of his nose gingerly. "Trust is what I'm worried about."
Faith came out with Willow and Amy. Willow was apologizing to the young witch. Faith smiled when she spotted the guys. She jogged over to them and threw her arms around Giles.
"Um, well," he patted her back with one hand. "There, there."
Sensing his discomfort Faith pulled back and gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder, "Glad you're okay."
Giles blushed slightly and gave her a soft smile. "Yes, well…thanks to you." He said, patting her shoulder. "Let's get everyone home."
"Good idea." Faith said, returning his grin with a smirk.
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Giles groaned into his pillow as he heard the knock on his bedroom door. "Come on, G. Time to get up." He looked at his alarm clock and noted that it was just after eight in the morning on a Saturday.
"Bloody hell," he said, groggily. Given the day they'd both had previously, he'd hoped beyond hope that she'd have been willing to be a normal teenage girl for once and sleep in. Abandoning any prospect of doing just that, he rolled to his side and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm up. I'm up. Stop that infernal pounding," he shouted to her.
"I'll put some tea on," she said from the other side of the door.
"Yes." He said rubbing his eyes as he heard her thunder down the stairs. "You do that." He rose to his feet and gathered his clothing for a shower.
Faith put the kettle on the stove and turned it up. She grabbed a dozen eggs out of the fridge and stopped, staring at them. The image of the egg popping open to reveal something from an H.R. Giger painting shot across her mind caused her to think twice. "Yeah. Gonna be a while before I cook you guys again." Faith said as she put the eggs back. She instead pulled out the bread, ham, and cheese and decided on grilled ham melts.
She set about slicing the cheese, buttering the bread and frying them off. She removed the pot of water when it was ready, poured it into his beautifully crafted bone china teapot and placed the black and white cow shaped tea cozy over it. She set this on the tea tray with two cups and took it into the living room and placed it on the coffee table.
The sandwiches had just finished cooking when Giles came down the stairs. "Good morning, Faith."
"Mornin' Tweed." She said, offering a plate with two ham and cheese sandwiches cut in half. "Thought you might want something to eat to start the day."
He gave her a warm smile. "Why, thank you Faith." He took the plate and made for the living room. "To what do I owe the pleasure of you cooking me breakfast?"
"Well, you're letting me get down and dirty with your Citroen. I figure I oughtta do somethin' to pay you back for that." Faith said, taking a plate with three of her own sandwiches in to sit across from him. "It's gonna be a rough build, but I've been doing some checking. Parts are almost nonexistent for something like that in the states. Yours, from what I saw had the one point nine-liter." She shook her head. "I did a little checking around town and found a wrecking yard up north that had a sixty-nine DS. Talked to the guy over the phone and he says that the engine in that one is still good, but it's a two point three liter. So I figure we'll go up there today, I'll check it out and see if it's worth it, and if so pick it up and swap it straight across." She gave him a shrug. "Easy."
He stopped eating and stared at her. He knew she was making light of the task. Swapping engines in a car without the proper space and tools to do so would be a monumental undertaking. Not something, as far as he knew, that could be done in a single weekend. "It sounds as if it would be cheaper and easier in the long run just to buy a new car."
Faith shrugged. "Depends on what's all wrong with your car. And engine replacement takes care of everything that is mechanically wrong that I heard. If you have suspension or drivetrain problems then you're looking at serious bread. The guy only wanted six hundred bucks for the engine of the other Citroen. If it's in good shape, that's a pretty good deal."
Giles sighed and nodded. He knew next to nothing about cars and even less about pricing of said automobiles. To him, six hundred dollars for the engine of a car seemed rather expensive. But he had to trust that Faith knew what she was doing. "I'll leave it to you."
She smiled and gave him a nod. It was nice to be trusted.
They finished breakfast and climbed into Giles' car and made their way toward the wrecking yard. "Just out of curiosity, how many junkyards does Sunnydale have?" He asked as they drove along.
"Three inside city limits." Faith said. "Another four once you get into unincorporated Sunnydale County." She was concentrating on the ride and movement of the car now, instead of just the engine. From what she was able to feel, the suspension was a touch on the saggy side but wasn't beyond what was expected for a rig that had been pampered since it was brand new. "We might wanna look into putting some new shocks and struts on this thing when we get a chance." She offered. "It's a bit soft."
Giles gave a noncommittal grunt. The more Faith told him of the car, the more he was starting to dislike it.
The pair reached the car yard and followed the short round man in the coveralls out into the yard itself. "This is it." He said, motioning to the Citroen he'd spoken about. The rear end had suffered a massive collision. The tail was pushed clear up into the boot. "Ass end is toast, but the engine is still in pretty good shape."
Faith immediately popped the hood and looked around. "Yeah, it's a two point three liter," she said, pulling a small flashlight out of her pocket. She checked it all over. "Doesn't look like it's leaking or anything." Giles had to give her credit, her check was meticulous. Faith ran her fingers along the side of the block, under the edges and all around the carburetor. "She's clean as a whistle. I think she's been rebuilt."
The owner shrugged. "I wouldn't know. Just got her about a week ago. Really ain't had time to tear into her."
"Can we hear the engine run?" Faith asked.
"Haven't tried starting it, to be honest," he said. "She didn't come with keys."
"That's not a problem," Giles said moving over to the driver's side. "I own one very similar and have had to improvise on occasion." He reached under the dashboard and pulled a handful of wires from beneath. He tapped a pair of them together and caused the car to tick over. After giving the gas pedal a push, the engine fired right up.
Faith reached in and pushed the throttle back. "She sounds good." She said, nodding. "You know what? We'll take it."
"You want the whole car or just the engine?" The man asked her.
Faith looked at Giles a moment, then climbed underneath the car to look around. She found that the shocks and suspension looked to be all brand new. Given what she knew of Giles' car, pretty much everything could be solved by parting out this one. "We'll go ahead and take the whole thing." She climbed out from beneath it. "What are you looking to get?" She asked him. "Keep in mind, I'm a car girl. I know what you've got and I know what it's worth."
He stared at her. "Two grand." He said, simply. Faith reached up and began running her fingers through the man's hair. He stepped back, looking at her. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Trying to find the goose egg, because you must have bumped your head." She said to him. "Two grand is about three times more than this piece of shit is worth and we both know it. The engine is just about the only thing on this heap that's worth a damn and you want six hundred for that. The chances of anyone coming in here looking for Citroen DS parts is slim to none." She pointed to Giles. "He's one of four, four people in Sunnydale County that has a Citroen DS licensed to him. The other three are in the hands of private collectors." She shook her head. "The only one that would be looking for this kind of thing is standing right here." She narrowed her eyes. "And you ain't the only one in the county with parts. He can go elsewhere. And if you keep trying to shaft us, that's exactly what we'll do."
The man stared at her. "Fine. Twelve hundred. Not a penny less."
"Grand." Faith said, crossing her arms. "Not a penny more. Given the current market, you're making about two hundred dollars profit at that price."
"Gotta have at least eleven." He said, shaking his head. "Can't take less than that."
Faith shrugged. "Nice talkin' to you." She said. "Come on, tweed. There's a place out by Mission Canyon that's got a sixty-four that's in decent shape." Giles followed behind her as they made for the exit of the yard.
She was surprised. The pair of them nearly made it to the gate before he shouted back. "Ten-fifty." She stopped and looked back at him.
Slowly she walked back toward him. "Ten-fifty?" She asked, making sure she heard him right. "That includes the entire car, title and all." She said to him. "And you haul it for us."
He sighed and offered his hand. "Fine."
"Deal." She said, shaking it. "Appreciate you doing business with us."
"You need a job, by any chance?" He asked her.
Faith and Giles both looked at him. "Doing what?" Faith asked him.
"Negotiating with the people that come in lookin' for stuff." He said, smiling. "You're good."
"Don't know." Faith said, shrugging. "I'll have to think about it."
"Let me know soon, yeah?" The man said.
After paying for the car, Giles asked her several questions. "How did you know there were only four Citroen DS's registered in Sunnydale County?"
"Didn't. I was just makin' that shit up." Faith said. "But he didn't know that."
"So you lied to him?" Giles asked her.
"I was bluffing. Huge difference. I have a hell of a poker face."
"That also begs the question, where exactly did you wish to do this? Surely not on the street in front of my flat."
"I figured since you're a staff member, we could do it at the auto shop at school." Faith said. "I talked to Mr. Gates. He said that as long as I've got adult supervision, he doesn't mind me using the shop over the weekend. I told him you were gonna be there. You've got, like keys and stuff, right?"
Giles stared at her a moment. "You know, I would never have thought of that. How very resourceful of you."
"I try." Faith said, grinning.
As the day progressed, and Faith tore into the pair of Citroens, Giles was incredibly impressed. For the most part, he sat at a table reading as the young girl went to work. He had to admit the music she chose wasn't bad. She'd settled on the local classic rock station and had the volume cranked up. Currently, Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin was blaring out of the speakers.
With the extremely well-appointed auto shop, Faith had managed to finish her work at just after nine at night. A little over ten hours, all told.
"Moment of truth." She said, stepping back from the car. "You wanna do the honors?" She asked him.
He moved over and looked at what she'd done. "Good lord. That's quite a bit larger, isn't it?"
"Well, the original one point nine had about seventy-five ponies brand new. Figure yours, you were lucky to get fifty. But this thing, after I acid dipped it, cleaned it up and put it back together," She pointed off to the side. "And with that turbo added, you're looking at about one hundred and seventy-five horses." She turned to him. "You're gonna have a lot more power when you put your foot into it."
Giles gave her a nod and moved around, sliding behind the wheel. He pumped the gas and turned the key over. The car ticked over but refused to catch.
Faith expected as much and poured a bit of gas into the carburetor. "Try it now." She said to him. Again he turned the key. The car hesitated for a moment then turned over. She smiled and pulled back on the throttle. The engine wailed sharply. "Nice." She stepped back and looked to him with a thumbs up.
He climbed out of the car, happy as a clam. "Good show." He said, giving her a grin of his own.
After cleaning up the shop, Faith went back to Giles' flat and took a shower. When she emerged, she smelled something truly wonderful. She slid on a pair of sweatpants and a loose fitting tank top then headed out of her bedroom and went down the stairs. Sitting on the coffee table was a large bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken, complete with biscuits, mashed potatoes and gravy and potato wedges.
Giles himself was sitting at his desk, poring over a tome. "You should eat something." He said, trying not to smile.
Faith simply stared at the meal. "Have you eaten anything yet?"
He held up a plate with a few chicken strips and a bit mashed potatoes. "I've been seen to. The rest is for the young mechanic in the room." He looked at her with a bright fatherly smile. "As a thank you for raising the dead."
"It wasn't so much resurrection as it was performing defib." Faith said, tucking into her chicken. "God, this is good. Thank you." She said, between bites.
"You're welcome, Faith." He said, going back to his work. The sound of the slayer joyfully inhaling her food was more a sign of appreciation than any words of gratitude.