A Flicker of Light in the Dark
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Faith’s dreams had been confusing for the last month or so. Her subconscious, or her Slayerness maybe, had been telling her that B was dead, but at the same time her instincts had told her to remain where she was. It hadn’t been until Angel had come for his weekly visit that her suspicions had been confirmed and he had told her that she was the only Slayer now.
They had proceeded to have a short, but low and intense, argument over whether or not she should stay in jail or break out. B’s absence was bound to be noticed pretty quickly over there. After all, the blonde Slayer had always done regular patrols in Sunnydale’s many and sundry cemeteries.
Faith had absently wondered if the other girl kept an eye on the obituaries or if she just made the rounds every night. She figured asking wouldn’t be appreciated right now.
The two of them had reached a compromise when Faith had suggested that Angel should contact Giles and hear if there was a need for a Slayer at the Hellmouth or not. There was a chance that B’s geeky sidekicks could handle things, and just call in Angel if they needed some extra muscle.
She probably shouldn’t have been so relieved when he returned a week later and told her that, according to the Watcher, Sunnydale was usually calm in the summer but, he would be in contact if they needed her help.
There had apparently been some questions about how she knew about B’s death and why she hadn’t left already, but the only answer she had was “I just know
”. Somehow she didn’t think Giles would be satisfied with that, but whatever.
This week’s visit from the vampire had been rescheduled since he was out of town, and her Monday evening had been taken up by exercise and the usual staring at the walls instead.
Tuesday, however, brought a surprise in the form of a letter. Faith frowned at it, she was pretty sure she wasn’t expecting anything. Not that she really got any mail, her lawyer and the freaky fan mail didn’t count, but hey, she wasn’t complaining. Almost anything was preferable to the monotony of the prison cell.
Her name and the address to the Facility were written in a definite male script, and when she flipped the envelope and read the return address she could feel her heart rate speed up. The addresser was a Jethro Gibbs, and beneath the name was an address in Washington, D.C.
She quickly tore open the flap of the envelope and pulled out a single piece of paper with the logo of something called “NCIS”. She peered closer and saw that it was an abbreviation for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service.
He was a Navy cop? What happened to being a Marine?
She sat back down on her bunk, pulled her feet up, and began reading. Faith, I don’t remember a Christine Rodriguez and I definitely don’t remember giving any girls my full name. However, I was in Boston around the time of your conception (Feb. 1980). Could you tell me more about why she thought I was your father, and why she didn’t contact me to find out for sure?
Faith grimaced a little. How was she supposed to tell a Federal Agent he had gotten an underage girl pregnant? Or maybe the better question was why he hadn’t looked at Christine’s date of birth. Gibbs was a G-Man, he should’ve checked.
She absently eyed the ceiling while she took a deep breath before continuing. A basic background search on you turned up two legal guardians who had custody of you after your mother’s death. Neither of them appears to be relatives, or even friends of your family. In fact they are both British Nationals who flew into the country right before they were given custody of you. Court records show that a Diana Dormer received emergency custody of you on March 16th, 1996 and that she lost it upon her death in October, 1998. Shortly afterwards it was granted to a Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, the same man you’re convicted of torturing and who testified in your defense, despite the fact that you were 18 years old at the time.
Faith cursed creatively. She should’ve known he would catch that.
Diana had explained the Council’s practice of taking full control of Potential Slayers on the day she moved in. That way they could dominate the girls’ entire life. What she ate, when she slept, how she exercised, what knowledge she was taught. Where she went at any given time and why she went there. The list was nearly endless and depressing as fuck.
The Watcher had attempted to manage Faith’s life, organize it into the schedule the Council had used on the Potentials for centuries with very few changes over the years.
Except that Faith was 16 and had been in charge of her own life for a long time and refused to be collard and go through obedience training with Diana Dormer and her Masters at the CoW holding the leash. And she told the woman as much.
There was no way she would allow the restrictions Dormer tried to impose on her. In the end they had found a middle ground; Faith got food, a roof over her head, and the freedom to go wherever she wanted in the evenings. In exchange Diana would be in charge of the mornings where she would teach Faith various combat styles, martial arts, melee weapons, and educate her on demons, vampires, and the Slayers that came before her. Why did you need a legal guardian when you were 18, and why is there no notification or explanation in your records? What happened to Miss Dormer?
Oh, G-Man, she thought, leave it alone. There’s nothing good down that way. In any case, I will come down to California if you agree to take a DNA test. Gibbs
Well, at least he seemed to have done his homework, she thought drily.