This is why I shouldn't buy cheap DVD box sets… I've been wanting to do a Real family story for Faith for a while. When these two ideas crashed together I had to write something.
I don't own either MacGyver or the character of Faith. This work of fan fiction is done purely for fun and not intended for profit.
The detective looked at her as if he didn't know what to do. Leer at her or back away. Faith couldn't blame him, she didn't know either. Eventually he started flicking through the papers on his desk. Looking down at her report sheet she felt ill. It was three pages long and read like some sort of natural disaster. The deaths and injuries just didn't stop.
To make things worse she could see them all. Remember each and every one. Sure some weren't saints, that creep at the bus station for instance. Still she was a Slayer and they weren't vampires.
"Alright." The detective said. "You admit to all these charges?"
"I…" her mouth suddenly felt very dry. In an instant she saw the door, it was on the other side of the room. There was a window closer. All it would take would be to smash her chair over his head, break the cuffs and jump the window. She could be half a mile away before they even got off their ass's. "I haven't read all of it, so I don't know if that's everything."
He watched her for a moment. "We'll have to go over it then." He picked it up again and then took up a note pad. "We're going to have to start at the beginning." he looked at the sheet. "Name?"
Out the window, across the parking lot. She could jump someone, take their wallet and jacket. She'd be out the state by morning. "Faith. The name's Faith"
"Full name." He growled out.
Out the state by morning, just keep on running. She didn't have to kill, just beat people up. "Faith Lehane MacGyver." She admitted. "You want me to spell that?"
Faith stepped into the recreation yard and popped her shoulder. Eight months she'd been cooped up in the Women's prison and if she was honest with herself she was beginning to go stir crazy.
Even in her coma she was doing something, mostly dreaming about Buffy killing her but it was something. Here she didn't even dream. Just slept lightly incase one of the guards got a little too close. That had only happened once, when one thought a impromptu pat down search should get frisky.
That she didn't kill the guy was a good sign in her book. She got solitary for a couple of days before some of the other girls came forward. Turned out it wasn't the first time he'd tried it. Faith and the others were lucky that the warden was on the level. She wasn't one bit happy about it and things cleared up.
Sure some of the guards didn't like that their friend was kicked out but there wasn't much they could do about it. Some of the girls on the other hand saw her as a threat. She kept out of their way and spent most of her time reading. She might not have finished school or have much in the way of prospects even if she did get out one day, but it was either read or share smokes with the girls in the south yard. And she was trying to quit.
Pulling out her last packet she shook one out. "One bad habit at a time." She whispered to herself as she strode to the nearest guard. She new the woman which was a good thing. Too many had heard about what she'd done, both inside and out. "You got a light on you?" Faith asked. Con's were allowed cigarets, but not lighters or matches.
Didn't make much sense to her, but not much did in life. "Thought you said you were giving up?"
"Girl's gotta have some vices." Faith laughed, Angela was one of the good guys. She knew that just because the girls had fallen on the wrong side of the law didn't mean they weren't human. If she didn't know Angela she would have missed the tightening of her eyes.
Faith had seen that before, she'd felt it. She was about to do something she didn't like. All too suddenly Faith saw the rifle in Angela's hands. The way her knuckles whitened over the trigger. "Oh Angie," Faith whispered. "Don't do it."
Her friend shrugged. "Can't. Sorry Faith, they've got my brother and the money… I need it too much." There was a terrible moment while Faith just prayed she wouldn't. "Look, go for the gun okay? It would make it a lot easier."
Faith backed off, holding her hands up and dropping the cigarette. "I told you. Look I have a friend out there. They can help, I've thrown my life away. Don't do the same."
"They've already dealt with it. I don't know why they want you dead, just know that it's you they want." Faith knew the signs, from both sides. Killer and prey. Faith did the only thing she could, she jumped back and threw herself to one side.
Angela threw her rifle down, pulling out her pistol and began firing. Faith had a fraction of a second to do something and everything snapped into place.
It had been years since she'd done anything like this. Fighting for her life, every sense screaming and every second a year. Faith knew there was nowhere to hide in the yard, on the other side there was some exercise equipment and nothing but fellow convicts between here and there. The guards were all missing and Faith realised just how much trouble she was in. Whoever wanted her gone had covered all the bases.
Rolling away Faith began searching for options and only came up with one. Get in close and disarm her, painlessly if possible. Somewhere an alarm went off pointlessly as she got her feet underneath her and kicked off. Tackling Angela to the ground as a bullet grazed her back.
Even up close her Slayer strength was a heck of a lot more than Angela had. Wrestling with her Faith tore the gun from her hands and threw it as far as she could, clear over the security fence and into some bushes. Angela scrambled for a knife in her boot, a nasty little thing. Faith could see she was probably going to plant it on her. Angela still hadn't got it though and Faith did the only thing she could think of. A short sharp head-butt, it stunned her and gave Faith the leverage to throw the knife the same way the gun went.
Two guards appeared out of nowhere and pulled the Slayer to her feet. "What's going on here!" the warden shouted across the yard.
"That guard just went crazy boss." One of the Convicts piped up. "Never seen anything like it."
"That true Faith?" She asked as she got closer, the guards didn't let go even though they knew she could throw them off at any time.
"Self defence warden, I swear." She didn't want to get Angela in trouble but there was nothing she could do about it. "I asked her for a light and she muttered something that sounded like sorry and started blazing."
Two hours later Faith was cooling her heels in her cell, facing off with the Warden. "Doctor Collins tells me Angela won't be awake for at least an hour. What happened out there this morning?"
"I told you, I went out for my hour. I had a smoke left and saw Angie was on guard. I knew I could bum a light off her so I asked. She just looked at me for a moment, muttered something about being sorry and I think something else that sounded like other, could have been brother, I don't know. I backed off. She went for her gun and everything went to hell."
The Warden frowned; "That's all you can tell me? Listen Faith, your in here for life. Now I've cut you some slack 'cause I've seen you exercise out there. You could walk out any time you wanted, but I'm not having this sort of thing here. This is the second time you've caught trouble, now you level with me or I'll have you in maximum detention so fast you'll think you were born in the dark. Who would want you dead?"
Faith looked at her, she could think of two groups. The Watchers and those lawyers from Wolfram and Heart, problem was they'd have moved already and it wouldn't be gun toting guard. Poison, mystical heart attack, there wasn't any end to the ways they could do her in without calling attention that she couldn't stop. No Angela was a message and it didn't feel like it was aimed at her.
Faith was about to come up with an answer when she saw two old guys come up. She'd never seen them before, the two of them were complete opposites. One was overweight, bald as an eight-ball and dressed in a full suit. The other was tall, in good shape for an old guy and slouched. He wore an ancient battered bomber jacket and faded jeans. They couldn't be any different if you paid them.
"Alright who are you, how did you get in and what do you want?" the Warden turned on them, obviously pissed at being interrupted.
The old fat guy pulled out a wallet. "Peter Thornton. Director of DXS. We need to talk to Miss MacGyver."
Faith winced at her last name, she really hated that and she almost missed the wince the other guy gave. She ignored that and turned on Thornton. "And what if I don't want to talk to you?"
"Then nothing. Listen, miss, we intercepted a coded message from one of our old enemies, giving your name and a kill order. Now we know why they wanted you dead, but not who they are or when they'll try again, you're a target. Now we're taking you to go into protective custody. You have no say in the matter."
"Now hang on a minute…" The Warden started but Thornton pulled out an impressive pile of papers.
"Official orders transferring Miss MacGyver to our care. This is out of your hands."
Faith blinked this was happening fast, almost too fast. "And if I don't want to come with you."
"Kid, you're coming with us." The other one barked, "Even if I have to hog tie you and drag you onto that helicopter."
"Good luck." Faith met his glare with one of her own and felt something lurch inside. She'd seen that look before but she couldn't place where.
After she won the contest the tall guy turned to his friend, "I'm getting her stuff from the lock up."
"Mac…" Thornton began but he had already turned away. Faith blinked, as she watched him leave she remembered a photo she'd found when she was a kid. Her mom was passed out from drink again and she was looking for enough money to order pizza. Hidden in the back of an old book was a single photo.
Give the guy a mullet, blond hair and take off a few years and it was him. Right down to the jacket and jeans. The name scrawled at the bottom, the thing that reminded her, was simply Mac.
When she asked her mom who it was she hit her across the back of the head and told her never to look again. It was the only time she ever actually hit her and probably the only reason she remembered it.
This was Mac, a guy from her mother's past. What the hell was he doing here and why was those freaky eyes' of his so familiar?
End Chapter One
This will be a short one, about three chapters but it's just for the fun of it the end.