Episode 2:
"Unto Every Generation..."

Late April 2000

Writer: Laura Fones

Title: Unto Every Generation… Author: Laura Fones E-mail Address: rb46528@aol.com Distribution: Just ask. Spoilers: None Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: I own nothing in relation to the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all. Feedback: I love it, I thrive on it, and I answer all of it. Author’s note: I know, huge spacing between the episodes. No inspiration, you know how it is. Anyway, hope you enjoy the finished project.

Her chest heaved with the exhilaration of adrenaline. Her footing slipped and was regained quickly as she ran through the slim-covered lair. A deep roar came to her ear; she turned and saw two men, backing her down with their footsteps.

"So this is she." One stated as his face suddenly became deformed and hideous. She gasped and slinked back slowly.

"The master wants her destroyed," The other one replied, "She will destroy his plans if she remains alive."

Both of them gave an unpronounced nod and ran for her, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling the sleeve of her shirt down to reveal her neck. Her voice came in ragged gasps as one let out a loud roar and sunk his teeth into her neck.

"Ahhhhh," Faith screamed as she sat up in her thin-sheeted bed. The familiar musky smell of her apartment filled her nose as she gave a deep sigh. "Only a dream." She reassured herself but absentmindedly stroked her neck to make sure.

Giving a relieved moan she glanced over at the clock. 5:36 PM. Her shift started in a half-hour. "This nocturnal thing cannot be healthy." She swung off the bed and turned on her bedside lamp.

Her sleep shaky footing found it’s way to the small bathroom in her cramped apartment. She’d been living out in Missouri for over 6 months. Originally, after she had left Boston, she had moved to Dedham, but everything was too familiar there, so she got out and moved up here. She had found a job easily enough, a barmaid, or as she liked to think of it ‘the beer wench.’ After she had established a steady cash flow she had found a small apartment building near the bar and rented it out. First class, no, but after living in South Boston on the East Side, she was used to third rate.

After showering and taking care of the essential cleaning propriety, she slipped into the low cut uniform she had worn since she’d been here. She then quickly walked down the stairs of the building and out into the street where she ran to the bar.

A figure walked out its shadowy hiding place, smiling and speaking into a small cellular phone. "Yes councilman, she’s had her first dream. She’s the one?"

"Yes," The breaking reception managed to maintain, "I trust you’ll speak to her tonight Marie."

"Got it." She pushed the glowing ‘end’ button and followed Faith’s quick paced steps.

Faith rushed in through the back alley, where the fence polls hung and threatened to transpierce an unwatchful passerby. She rapidly placed her purse onto the back table and ran up to the front.

"You’re late," Christine whispered as Faith took her place behind the bar counter.

"I slept in." Faith said and picked up a small pad and pencil and put them into the pocket of her uniform.

"Until after 5?" Christine said wide-eyed, "Do you * ever * see sunlight."

"Only on my off days." She moved from behind the counter and into the semi-full stools and tables, swiftly writing down drink and snack orders.

Marie didn’t enter the bar, knowing she wouldn’t have to. Knowing that Faith would know, it was her time.

Faith rustled through pages in her little order pad, scribbling down unreadable writing that only she could decipher. She walked back behind the counter to relay the orders when she heard the bar doors swing open, so clearly and distinctly that it frightened her. Every sound stopped for a moment as she looked to see a pair entering, so familiar, so distinct. Her eyes widened and she started to speak. But she quickly stifled herself, thinking some weird coincidence was responsible, or that she couldn’t know the faces, it was a dream and nothing more. Sighing slightly, she turned to Christine and told her the orders.

Christine nodded and pointed to the new male pair in the bar, "Can you take them while I get the drinks and crap ready."

"Yeah, sure," Faith said distractedly as she watched the two men approach a women and start to hit on her. Faith chuckled over the girl’s easy attraction; "Guess the only thing she’ll want to drink tonight is them." She shrugged as she watched her whisper something in their ear, to which the men smiled and followed her, as she drew them in alluringly.

The three-some passed Faith by the counter and began to head out to the alleyway. As they passed, Faith had to hold her stomach as a cramp coupled in it. But after they had left, it vanished. A weird instinct seemed to engulf her body. A protective feeling towards the girl. To save her. Faith felt a strange need to follow them. She slowly walked out to the alley through the back of the kitchen.

Faith looked out through the small window of the kitchen door, watching as the girl giggled as one man began to nibble on the girl’s neck, giving the other a silent signal to leave. That one exited and Faith noticed the other one’s face morph and sharp fangs penetrate the girl’s neck. Faith’s eyes grew wide as the girl screamed and dropped limply to the ground.

A strange instinct filled her. Faith shoved open the door and held the man up against the wall with inhuman strength. "What are you?" She demanded firmly.

"Slayer," The creature/man growled out.

"What." Faith said, confused and a little high off the adrenaline rush that coursed in her veins.

"I am your worst nightmare," The vamp pushed her back, surprising her with an attack to the stomach.

Faith held her stomach, expecting immense pain, but adrenaline ran so high that she felt none. She quickly regained control and kicked the vampire to the side of the building. She remembered this, this feeling; she knew the rightness of it. A déjà vu of kinds, she knew she was supposed to be here, doing this, enjoying it.

She gave a silent smile and let loose on the vamp, kicking his groin and stomach, making him double over in pain, then crunching her foot into his face. She pulled him up, amazed by her own power, and threw him against a protruding fence board. Her eyes grew wide as she saw him scream and explode into dust.

A slow, almost sarcastic clapping came from behind her. "Well done Faith, well done." A voice traveled to her ears as a petite figure stepped from behind the alley.

"Who the hell are you." Faith demanded as her disbelieving eyes traveled from the pile of dust to the woman standing in front of her.

"My name’s Marie," She said, "Well, actually it’s Catherine Mary, but it always sounded too Catholic-school-girl to me. I’m your watcher."

"And what do you plan on watching," Faith said, moving her hands to her hips and tilting her body against a board.

"You heard what he called you," She said knowingly, "You’re the Slayer."

"What the hell is a ‘Slayer.’"

"God, I hate repeating this stupid prophecy," Marie held her fingers up to her temples and sighed, "Okay. Unto every generation there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the vampires, demons and forces of darkness. She is the Slayer. And then there’s big dramatic intro and flashes of you beating the crap out of some vamps. Enough information?"

"Vampires," Faith chuckled, "When’d you escape from the loony bin?"

"You had a prophetic dream tonight."

"And what the hell is a "prophetic dream.""

"This vampire you killed was the one you saw in the dream."

"Hey," Faith said, "Who allowed you to have an all access pass to my head."

"I’m your watcher… I know all." She held up her head smugly.

"You know," Faith scoffed, "They say self-adulation isn’t healthy."

"What do you think he was." She thumbed over to the now disappearing pile of dust.

"A random case of spontaneous combustion."

"Wittier than the last Slayer, I like that," Her face twisted into a smirk, "Of course she was less delusional." Faith glared at her.

"So what’s the deal, then?" Faith said, "You "watch" as I make slaying my career choice?"

"Do you want the real digs on this?"

"Well, I’ve got nothing else to do."

"Come with me, then."

"Why is it old people drink tea?" Faith asked, running her fingernail along the side of the cup.

"I’ll have you know," Marie said, dropping into her chair and taking her own cup in hand, "I am only 22. And drinking tea is relaxing."

"So, what? You’re a closet Brit." Faith said rocking back in her chair, "Cuz, you don’t have an accent or anything, and the red hair, not a huge British trade mark."

"It’s an unwritten rule in the watcher’s council," Marie said, smirking, "You either wear tweed or drink tea. I honestly never thought I was a tweed person."

"What exactly is tweed anyway?" Faith sipped a bit from the cup and pulled back suddenly at it’s temperature.

"Tweed is a coarse, rugged, often nubby woolen fabric made in any of various twill weaves and used chiefly for casual suits and coats." Faith raised her eyebrows in confusion, "In other words, really ugly, itchy gray fabric."

"Oh." Faith left her mouth to form the words, "So…why am I here exactly."

"Do you want the long version or the easy 4.0 format?"

"I’ve got time."

"All right then," Marie rolled her neck as if preparing, "In this generation, a slayer was born. Well, actually, she was "called." You see, at the council, we used to have the whole "born" routine, but with the uprise of vampiric activity and lack of caring from speculating populace, we have ‘em made to order. Anyway, she was called after our last slayer was murdered. From what I know, she was a vacuous bitch at first."

"Loving the flashback and all, but, what’s the reason I was ‘Called’."

"Quick version?" She leaned back against her chair, "Buffy, the slayer, was basically at the base of a prophecy. ‘The master will rise and he will kill the slayer, blah, blah, blah.’ And so, since she was destined to be killed, her replacement was trained since birth at the watcher's council. And when that day finally came, she was drowned, then revived. But since she had technically died, Kendra was assigned a watcher and sent off."

"So then Kendra dies and you call me?"

"Not exactly. She hasn’t died yet, but we have reason to believe that she will. And so you were called. To replace her when she dies, and so you are to be trained."

"Trained." Faith arched her eyebrow; "I need to be trained. Why? I mean, simple job, kill this, kill that, save the world. I did fine out there tonight, why should any other time be different."

"What you fought tonight was a fledgling; a minion, actually. And even I could take him on. He was a test. Marloc knows about you, the slayer, he wants to…"

"Wait a second. What’s a Marloc?" Faith’s mouth curved in confusion.

"Big Daddy Vamp." Marie said seriously, "You’re not ready for him yet. You don’t know your true power. Or how to tap into it."

"What, is there some huge, special process to becoming a bad-ass slayer?" Marie remained silent. "Oh… So, then train me. Large wooden stakes, sunlight, take away their coffin. That’s how they do it right?"

"There are no coffins involved. These jobs require sunlight, a beheading, or a stake to the heart."

"You know, you can kill a lot of things with those last two." Faith’s lips curled into a smug-knowing smile, making Marie sigh.

She pulled back her crimson hair and continued, "You are to be trained immediately. You will move into a special facility they have set up outside of town."

"I" She accentuated the word, "will do nothing. * I * will chose to do whatever the hell I want. But any rent-free, non hell hole is an improvement from my apartment."

"Your things have already been picked up."

"Excuse me." Faith whined, "Who gave you a permit to invade my privacy?"

"The watcher’s council." Marie returned with a vainglorious smile, making Faith glare at her owning mockery.

"Fine." Faith said and threw up her hands, "Where’s this training facility?"

"In an old factory we renovated."

"Oooo, comfy." Faith said sarcastically.

"I think you’ll find it to your liking. Other slayers have."

"I’m not like other slayers."

"I know," She gave a small knowing smile, "I know."

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