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tamingthemuseTitle: Taking Control
Author: Sunnyd_lite
Fandom: BtVS/AtS Sn 4/1 (Sancutary)
Rating: R for language
Prompt: 78 Emancipation
Word Count: 726
Disclaimers: Owed by Joss, Mutant Enemy & other corporate bodies. Just playing!
A/N: This is my third take on the prompt. This takes place in the Faith arc, she is such an interesting character.
The rust of handrail scraped her palm as Faith zigged and zagged down the fire escape. A touch of pain that grounded her, helped her focus on escape. She could still hear shots and yelling from the rooftop.
Her life had turned into a Die Hard movie, copters and everything. Must be the Council goons Wes brought home. As if the critter with too many legs had fallen from the ceiling --and that kinda had the lawyers' name all over it—wasn't bad enough. Then B. turning up. God was there ANY group out there not after her? Fine, taking the lawyer's money to kill Angel, not the smartest. But she'd had a plan. He was supposed to kill her. Nothing in her life was that easy.
She doesn't get it. Oh, Angel that she understands, better than B. does. But B. and Wesley, why the fuck are they helping her? When someone hurts her, she wants to hurt back.
And she has.
Her little talk with Wes? She lied, there's another torture group – words. Knew that those words would creep their way into his insecurities. Cuts heal, but words? Some torture just keeps giving.
Not that she learned that the hard way or nothing.
She paused at the first floor, catching her breath and doing a quick recon. Her paranoia proved on the money as the alley wall was suddenly lit up with the red and white lights of a cop car. They must have come in silent. Fuck.
A quick scan showed her a mirror fire escape on the opposite wall. She scrambled up one flight and then hopped up onto the flimsy railing in a crouch.
"Where is she?"
She wasn't sure which direction that came from. She could still hear the copter and, in the distance, police sirens. Didn't matter. All that mattered was to be not here. Another quick look at her target and she lept, catching the bottom of the landing with her already scrapped hands. Son of a bitch! That stung.
"Well if we can't find the girl, we can take Angel in for aiding and abetting a known fugitive." Faith quickly pulled herself on to the fire escape and looked to where a blonde haired woman was standing, arms akimbo. "I think I know how to get him to talk."
She was turning towards the alley, so Faith squashed herself against the brick wall, scrapping her cheek. Damn she was getting tortured by inches here. Everything was getting a bit of her.
This place was too hot. In a minute someone would be releasing dogs or something. She edged up the stairs, keeping the sight lines from both rooftops in mind. Would they really go after Angel? What was that about? Unlike B's suburban world view, she didn't expect cops to play fair, and God knows she had no political protection, not anymore.
Damn. She blinked, hard. No time to tear up and crying was for wussies. The Mayor had been dead for months, even if it felt like just a week for her. He'd believed in her, like Angel did. And she hadn't been there on his big day. She'd let him down.
Fuck why did that stab like B's knife in her gut, while she was only kinda of upset over the weasly man's death? No, Angel said she had to accept what she'd done. Face her victems. His name was Allan Finch.
And now they were going after Angel, all because of her.
B's going to think she pulled a runner.
Not like she hadn't before. She was at the roof line; looked like things had calmed down, 'least the copter had left.
B. was all about control. About fixing things. She'd never got that control was one thing Faith didn't have.
Until now.
There was one way to take control, to free herself from everyone else's agenda. Even do Angel a good turn, and wouldn't that confuse the hell out of B.
But this wouldn't be for B. Not even for Angel, not really.
He'd told her what she should do, but she was the only one who could do it.
She knew where she was heading now. It was time to take control. Free herself from the voices of her dead.
The police station wasn't far. This was something she could fix.
A/N:Yup my muse liked the irony of Faith 'freeing' herself by going to jail, even if it was on her terms.
Author: Sunnyd_lite
Fandom: BtVS/AtS Sn 4/1 (Sancutary)
Rating: R for language
Prompt: 78 Emancipation
Word Count: 726
Disclaimers: Owed by Joss, Mutant Enemy & other corporate bodies. Just playing!
A/N: This is my third take on the prompt. This takes place in the Faith arc, she is such an interesting character.
The rust of handrail scraped her palm as Faith zigged and zagged down the fire escape. A touch of pain that grounded her, helped her focus on escape. She could still hear shots and yelling from the rooftop.
Her life had turned into a Die Hard movie, copters and everything. Must be the Council goons Wes brought home. As if the critter with too many legs had fallen from the ceiling --and that kinda had the lawyers' name all over it—wasn't bad enough. Then B. turning up. God was there ANY group out there not after her? Fine, taking the lawyer's money to kill Angel, not the smartest. But she'd had a plan. He was supposed to kill her. Nothing in her life was that easy.
She doesn't get it. Oh, Angel that she understands, better than B. does. But B. and Wesley, why the fuck are they helping her? When someone hurts her, she wants to hurt back.
And she has.
Her little talk with Wes? She lied, there's another torture group – words. Knew that those words would creep their way into his insecurities. Cuts heal, but words? Some torture just keeps giving.
Not that she learned that the hard way or nothing.
She paused at the first floor, catching her breath and doing a quick recon. Her paranoia proved on the money as the alley wall was suddenly lit up with the red and white lights of a cop car. They must have come in silent. Fuck.
A quick scan showed her a mirror fire escape on the opposite wall. She scrambled up one flight and then hopped up onto the flimsy railing in a crouch.
"Where is she?"
She wasn't sure which direction that came from. She could still hear the copter and, in the distance, police sirens. Didn't matter. All that mattered was to be not here. Another quick look at her target and she lept, catching the bottom of the landing with her already scrapped hands. Son of a bitch! That stung.
"Well if we can't find the girl, we can take Angel in for aiding and abetting a known fugitive." Faith quickly pulled herself on to the fire escape and looked to where a blonde haired woman was standing, arms akimbo. "I think I know how to get him to talk."
She was turning towards the alley, so Faith squashed herself against the brick wall, scrapping her cheek. Damn she was getting tortured by inches here. Everything was getting a bit of her.
This place was too hot. In a minute someone would be releasing dogs or something. She edged up the stairs, keeping the sight lines from both rooftops in mind. Would they really go after Angel? What was that about? Unlike B's suburban world view, she didn't expect cops to play fair, and God knows she had no political protection, not anymore.
Damn. She blinked, hard. No time to tear up and crying was for wussies. The Mayor had been dead for months, even if it felt like just a week for her. He'd believed in her, like Angel did. And she hadn't been there on his big day. She'd let him down.
Fuck why did that stab like B's knife in her gut, while she was only kinda of upset over the weasly man's death? No, Angel said she had to accept what she'd done. Face her victems. His name was Allan Finch.
And now they were going after Angel, all because of her.
B's going to think she pulled a runner.
Not like she hadn't before. She was at the roof line; looked like things had calmed down, 'least the copter had left.
B. was all about control. About fixing things. She'd never got that control was one thing Faith didn't have.
Until now.
There was one way to take control, to free herself from everyone else's agenda. Even do Angel a good turn, and wouldn't that confuse the hell out of B.
But this wouldn't be for B. Not even for Angel, not really.
He'd told her what she should do, but she was the only one who could do it.
She knew where she was heading now. It was time to take control. Free herself from the voices of her dead.
The police station wasn't far. This was something she could fix.
A/N:Yup my muse liked the irony of Faith 'freeing' herself by going to jail, even if it was on her terms.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 07:12 am (UTC)And your characterizations of the others - Buffy, Kate, Angel - were all great as well and there were some great observations about them in there. So, yes, as you can tell, I liked this! :)
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 01:13 am (UTC)