Hand of Fate
Disclaimer: the Buffy-verse and Highlander-verse do not belong to me. I'm writing this simply out of enjoyment and so I can procrastinate on my school work. No money is being made. Not by me anyway.
A/n: Hey, so I've been working on this story for a while and thought I would share, even though I should really finish my other stories first. Whoopsies. I guess I just like to overwhelm myself. :) Anyway....this is a Methos/Faith story I've been throwing around in my head for a few weeks. I've got a substantial amount written already. If anyone would care to beta it for me that would be awesome.
The hand of fate is on me now
It pick me up and knock me down
I'm on the run, I'm prison bound
The hand of fate is heavy now
I killed a man, I'm highway bound
The wheel of fortune keeps turning round
-Hand of Fate", The Rolling Stones
Getting away with murder. Or more accurately, getting away with two.
Weren't killers supposed to be happy when they beat the system? She supposed she just wasn't like most killers. She didn't want to win. She wanted to pay for what she'd done.
It was also that she just wanted to be...away. Dead to the world. Get away from everything for a while. 30 years in a maximum security prison had sounded like a retreat. She tried to forget that the Slayer part of her would probably flip at being cooped up for such a long period of time with no way of release. Unless, of course, she got bored with the whole redemption thing and started offing the other inmates.
But she'd deal.
Especially if it meant she'd finally get some rest. Peace and quiet. Even before she was called, she'd lived in constant fear. Fear from her mother when she'd come home drunk, high, or both. Fear from the drug dealers and gang members trolling the Southie projects. When she'd been approached by her first Watcher and learned that the demons under her bed were real and she may or may not be called to fight them, it became a fear that she'd never live to see her eighteenth birthday.
It was the same type of fear as it had always been, just different
She's learned a long time ago that rest was for the dead or the dying. You wanna stay alive, you gotta pay attention, don't turn your back, don't you dare start thinking the world wasn't out to get you. The moment you thought like that was the moment the world bit you on the ass.
"The prosecution has no proof that my client was even at the scenes of these two crimes, except for a few flimsy eyewitness reports. And the crime scene investigators inability to do their jobs properly does give them the right...."
Faith stopped listening to the attorney's words and gazed out the window on other side of the courtroom. Birds were fluttering around the tree plucking at the cherries. They took away bits a pieces of them, the fruits much too big for their tiny beaks. Their song was almost deafened by her attorney's rambling, but she could still hear them. They flew off when a squirrel ran up the tree and shot across the branches like an acrobat. It made its way to the very end of the branch where the cherries lay. The squirrel's weight bowed the branch to the point that it seemed it might snap. But, despite the danger he continued to the very end of it to snatch a ripe cherry before leaping away.
"The only reason my client confessed to these crimes was due to the state of duress the LA and Sunnydale police departments put her through. They put out a full scale state wide manhunt for a murder suspect
? Not convicted
mind you, but only a suspect? She'd just gotten out of a coma for god's sake, you can't expect a young girl or anyone to respond well to-"
"Objection, your honor! The defendant was belligerent, assaulted officers of both police departments on multiple occasions, she was..."
Her lawyer interrupted him spouting off some legal jargon she didn't understand and care to. It was all bullshit anyway. She'd done it. She'd even confessed
to doing it. Apparently that hadn't been good enough. Faith just let the Wolfram & Hart lawyer spin his little tale. She just couldn't seem to get up the energy to argue the point. Whatever reason W&H had to make sure she didn't
spend the rest of her natural born life in a prison cell couldn't be a good one. Whatever, she'd slaughter that chicken whenever it finally came to roost.
They'd changed the time her arraignment, so that Angel wouldn't make it. Faith couldn't contact him as she had no way to get to a phone. He couldn't keep coming to rescue her whenever she needed it anyway. This was her problem, so she'd deal with it. She just wasn't going to deal with it right now was all.
There was another twenty minutes of back and forth accusations between her lawyer and the prosecution when the Judge finally reached a decision.
6 years, significantly less with good behavior. She'd gotten off of the murder charges, as her lawyer had ripped the prosecution's evidence to shreds. So instead Faith had been charged only for the multiple assault charges they'd actually been able to pin on her, including several assaults on cops. That was the thing that impressed her. You attack one of the boys in blue
, they'd usually slap as many years as they could onto your sentence. Maybe the judge was owned by good ol' W&H. If she hadn't known it already, she knew it now. Wolfram & Hart were good. Real good, but in a very bad
way. That thought made Faith itch uncontrollably beneath her skin. They no doubt could have gotten her off of everything if they'd wanted. Clearly they were looking to teach her a lesson. You fail Wolfram & Hart you pay the price. Fail them twice, well then don't expect to find all your appendages attached for very long after.
As the bailiff took her out of the court room, her lawyer who she'd never caught the name of (she'd sort of just grown accustomed to calling him evil
Perry Mason), lent down to whisper in her ear, "You owe us in a big way, Miss Lehane. When you get out you remember who got you there. And you will do whatever we ask of you. And you will
finish any job we give you. If you don't, there won't be enough of you left to put into a prison cell." He smirked in a overly condescending manner, "The lord giveth and the lord taketh away."
Faith glared back at him coolly and said nothing. The cocky grin melted from the lawyer's face and he backed away. His bosses had the power, not him. Clearly 'Perry'
had finally remembered it when he'd seen her feral gaze. You didn't want to piss off a psychotic Slayer when all you had to defend yourself with was a leather suitcase and slick Armani suit.
As the bailiff took her away, Faith wondered what prison would be like. She'd been to juvie often enough as a child, maybe it wasn't much different than that. And unlike then she'd be more than capable of taking care of herself. It probably wouldn't be all that bad.
Who was she kidding? It would probably suck.
But it was better than being dead, or being scared shitless that she was losing herself and becoming someone she didn't want to be.
+++ One Year Later
A year was over before she knew it and she'd been accepted for early parole. She hadn't done anything wrong. Maybe she should have roughed up some of the guards or something. Maybe then they would have made her stay her full sentence. It wasn't long enough. She wasn't ready. She was still a danger to others and to herself.
Angel had said she was welcome to stay at the Hyperion during her parole and maybe even after if she wanted. And she had wanted too, at first. Then she'd come to the realization that she simply couldn't bring herself to live there. Faith couldn't bring herself to see Angel, Cordelia, and most of all Wesley every day. They would be constant reminders of what she'd done. The crimes she could never truly repay even if she spent a hundred years in prison.
She had to leave to escape her past and whatever future Wolfram & Hart had planned, if not forever, at least for a little while. Her parole officer, Danny, had agreed to letting her leave the state as long as it was still on the west coast. She had to call Danny every week to verify she was still where she said she'd be. He was sweet on her, Faith knew.
She just couldn't stop herself from flirting with pretty much anyone who'd pay attention. And Danny did. Oh, he made a good effort to look like he didn't. He was a good guy though, so she didn't toy with him too much.
There wasn't anywhere in particular she wanted to go. Just not L.A. and not
Sunnydale. Faith had pulled out a road map and pointed at a random city on the west coast and decided that was where she'd go. She didn't have any money, so Angel, who understood her need to disappear from her regrets for a little while, paid for her bus ticket and had given her a little extra for food and things to get her through for a short while until she got back on her feet. She didn't like taking his money, but she hadn't really a choice. She'd pay him back, even if he'd said he didn't want her to.
The trip on the bus had been a long one. Several days in fact, with multiple stops here and there at random pointless tourist attractions. Why would you want to see the Statue and Mural of Bobbie the Wonder Dog
They'd passed into Washington a few hours ago and then finally reached her selected destination. Stepping out of the bus she breathed in the salty ocean air of the harbor town. It almost
reminded her of home. Almost, but not quite. It still had that way about it that screamed Pacific coast
. Faith thought that was a good thing; the bit otherness mixed with inkling familiarity. Maybe this Seacouver would be just what she needed.
a/n: So, I tried to look up standard sentencing for assault charges and I don't think Faith sentence is exactly realistic? Not sure, but I was just going under the idea that W&H can do anything. Also, I'm not sure if a parolee can actually leave the state or not. Some websites said no, others said yes if the parole officer agrees but only for short periods, others said with parole officer agreement you could live in another state...so I went with that one. I am happy to say that I am no expert on crime sentences and parole laws. I'm a good girl. ;)
Oh and in case you cared Bobbie the Wonder dog was a dog that was lost by a family on vacation in the 1920's and traveled 2,800 miles in 6 months showed back up at his owner's house in Silverton, Oregon. And the Statue and Mural is an actual tourist attraction there.