Adventures in Vampire Slaying: While You Were Sleeping
For the first time in her life, she had felt needed. Like someone worth a damn, like someone who would be missed should something happen to her… In Faith’s line of work, something always happens. When Diane had told her that Slayers had a limited shelf life, she had taken the news with her typical nonchalance. After all, living in Southie had taught her that a girl had just as much chance of being hit by a stray bullet or a drunk driver as she would of living into her nineties, and frankly, Faith had never quite seen far past the next month. It was no big thing to find out that pimps and dealers were not the only denizens of the night, at least until she met Kakistos. Same shit, different day…
See, before she had met Diane and Giles, though, she would not have admitted to using big words like “denizens” and “nonchalance”. Not like she had much use for them with the sort of circles she’d traveled in. Couldn’t imagine seeing herself sipping tea with a raised pinkie and learning to curtsy, and then she met Giles, and Sunnydale went the way of the dodo… Suddenly, Faith found herself a modern day Eliza Doolittle. Only her Professor Higgins wasn’t interested in romance, nosiree. For most of their acquaintance, Giles had wanted to be her Daddy Warbucks, and she couldn’t fault him that. Hell, she’d wanted a dad, a mom, someone who cared more for her than for a bottle of whisky. If it floated his boat, she’d be his Annie, and not in a twisted role-playing way, either. (While playing Fluster the Englishman was always fun, she’d learned when to tone down the flirtation, lest she send the old man into cardiac arrest.) In all honesty, though, she liked that he found her attractive, even if their relationship as mentor and protégée would never allow it to flourish. He had seen her as a woman that night on the stairs and not as a Slayer or as a piece of flesh, although she could tell that he approved in a very male way of her dress. To see him look at her that way, with such pride and awe was worth much more than she’d ever admit to.She felt, well... beautiful.
She secretly wanted to please him, to prove that there was more to her than the hard harbor chick persona that she presented. While she had not seen much use for a diploma before, she had used her stint in the women’s correctional facility to brush up on her Shakespeare, so to speak. When Giles had come to her with her last assignment, to take down a noble rogue Slayer, her improved vocabulary had certainly come in handy. Building upon her successes, Faith completed her GED and started training for her certificate in social work.
Trouble was, a girl could get used to being treated with respect and valued, and sooner or later would begin to demand it. She couldn’t just go back to the girl that she’d once been, much like Eliza. She’d begun to carry herself differently afterwards. Briticisms slipped easily into everyday conversation, albeit with a Boston accent. She’d even started paying attention to the clothing that she wore. Her deal with the man in tweed had been that she’d jump through one last hoop for him in exchange for a clean slate, but she had never counted on wanting to forge a different path, nor did she suspect that she would find a calling in life. Slayers didn’t retire, not really, but for the first time, Faith began to dream of a life outside of the hunt. She was grateful to the men in her life for giving her second and even third chances. She knew that the urge to do a little violence would never completely go away, but she could use her mistakes and hard knock life to help other girls learn to deal with the consequences of their actions. In the few short months since bridging out into social work, Faith had discovered much to her surprise that she had a knack for dealing with troubled girls.
In her new digs, an old church that the Diocese had been forced to sell amid scandal for practically nothing; Faith had set aside training space and a makeshift shelter for runaways. While her goal had been to find and recruit potential Slayers, the doors of the Faith Outreach Center were open to anyone who needed a warm bed and time to sort things out. Some had been abused. A few had been pregnant. Some were scared of their new strength and restlessness. Others were just tired little girls from the suburbs, who found themselves regretting their decisions to run once the harsh realities of life set in. On occasion, though, Slayers passed through her doors. They were snarky, confrontational, and completely in over their heads. In short, they were Her.
* * * * * * *
See, before she had met Diane and Giles, though, she would not have admitted to using big words like “denizens” and “nonchalance”. Not like she had much use for them with the sort of circles she’d traveled in. Couldn’t imagine seeing herself sipping tea with a raised pinkie and learning to curtsy, and then she met Giles, and Sunnydale went the way of the dodo… Suddenly, Faith found herself a modern day Eliza Doolittle. Only her Professor Higgins wasn’t interested in romance, nosiree. For most of their acquaintance, Giles had wanted to be her Daddy Warbucks, and she couldn’t fault him that. Hell, she’d wanted a dad, a mom, someone who cared more for her than for a bottle of whisky. If it floated his boat, she’d be his Annie, and not in a twisted role-playing way, either. (While playing Fluster the Englishman was always fun, she’d learned when to tone down the flirtation, lest she send the old man into cardiac arrest.) In all honesty, though, she liked that he found her attractive, even if their relationship as mentor and protégée would never allow it to flourish. He had seen her as a woman that night on the stairs and not as a Slayer or as a piece of flesh, although she could tell that he approved in a very male way of her dress. To see him look at her that way, with such pride and awe was worth much more than she’d ever admit to.She felt, well... beautiful.
She secretly wanted to please him, to prove that there was more to her than the hard harbor chick persona that she presented. While she had not seen much use for a diploma before, she had used her stint in the women’s correctional facility to brush up on her Shakespeare, so to speak. When Giles had come to her with her last assignment, to take down a noble rogue Slayer, her improved vocabulary had certainly come in handy. Building upon her successes, Faith completed her GED and started training for her certificate in social work.
Trouble was, a girl could get used to being treated with respect and valued, and sooner or later would begin to demand it. She couldn’t just go back to the girl that she’d once been, much like Eliza. She’d begun to carry herself differently afterwards. Briticisms slipped easily into everyday conversation, albeit with a Boston accent. She’d even started paying attention to the clothing that she wore. Her deal with the man in tweed had been that she’d jump through one last hoop for him in exchange for a clean slate, but she had never counted on wanting to forge a different path, nor did she suspect that she would find a calling in life. Slayers didn’t retire, not really, but for the first time, Faith began to dream of a life outside of the hunt. She was grateful to the men in her life for giving her second and even third chances. She knew that the urge to do a little violence would never completely go away, but she could use her mistakes and hard knock life to help other girls learn to deal with the consequences of their actions. In the few short months since bridging out into social work, Faith had discovered much to her surprise that she had a knack for dealing with troubled girls.
In her new digs, an old church that the Diocese had been forced to sell amid scandal for practically nothing; Faith had set aside training space and a makeshift shelter for runaways. While her goal had been to find and recruit potential Slayers, the doors of the Faith Outreach Center were open to anyone who needed a warm bed and time to sort things out. Some had been abused. A few had been pregnant. Some were scared of their new strength and restlessness. Others were just tired little girls from the suburbs, who found themselves regretting their decisions to run once the harsh realities of life set in. On occasion, though, Slayers passed through her doors. They were snarky, confrontational, and completely in over their heads. In short, they were Her.
* * * * * * *