Role Playing

Disclaimer: Don't own them, but wish I did.

Summary: Faith fell into a coma and awakened a new Slayer, unbeknownst to the Council. Four years later, the new Slayer is found and Faith has a new role to adjust to.

Rating: PG to PG-13 because, come on it's Faith. Need I say more?

Spoilers: The whole show, but only refers to Seasons 3 and part of 4. Basically everything Faith related is fair game. Kind of a crossover-ish with a movie. You'll see what next chapter.

Feedback: Sure, why not?

A/N: First attempt at BtVS fic. Oh, and don't remind me, I already know that the title sucks.

Two guards led a young girl down a long corridor, roughly shoving her every so often. She just continued to walk down the hall at her own pace with her head downcast, despite the provoking from the guards.

They eventually got to an empty room where a man in a gray suit and a briefcase sat. The guards led her to a seat and walked off.

"You are the infamous Faith," the man says in his thick British accent.

"What the fuck do you want?" She asks in a low voice, not bothering to lift her head in acknowledgement.

"I am Sheldon Winters. I have come to congratulate you," he says darkly.

"Yeah? Well yay for me. What the fuck did I do to get congratulated?" She asks sarcastically.

"You have done the impossible. You defied Prophesy," Sheldon says with irritation with her impatience.

Faith finally looks up to give him a questioning expression. "What are you talking about?" She asks with clear confusion.

"Do you remember that night on the roof when you and the other Slayer were fighting and you jumped off the roof and went into a coma?"

"No, it doesn't ring a bell," she sneers.

He chose to ignore that statement and continue. "When you landed, your heart stopped beating, for just a second," the man stopped and looked at her.

Faith's dark eyes, if at all possible, further clouded over as a look of realization came over her face. "What does a new Slayer have to do with prophesy?" She asks.

"You weren't supposed to die. You aren't supposed to die until next week. Hell, you aren't even supposed to be in prison. The night you die, you're supposed to die in Sunnydale. Stabbed by a mugger. Not a particularly noble way to go for a Slayer, but you were never very noble to begin with, were you?" He asks with a smirk.

"Why the fuck did you come here?!" She asks. "To kill me? I mean, shit, forget only two Slayers, now you have three on your hands. The last thing you need is another extra Slayer," she seethes.

"You weren't supposed to jump that night. If you hadn't have punched the other Slayer and jumped, then the two of you would have eventually reconciled. But no, you jumped and another Slayer was called before the Council found out who it was and could train them. We didn't even know about her until a month ago. We had heard reports in Detroit of a young girl fighting a gang of deformed teenagers."

"How old is she?" Faith asks with concern.

"The girl was called when she was twelve, she just turned sixteen. Her name is Michelle," he states.

"Well, thank you very much for informing me that my eternally fucked destiny has been fulfilled. I'm going back to my cell now," she says as she rises.

"The Council needs your help!" he cries out desperately.

She stops dead in her tracks and turns around. "What could the Council possibly need my help for?"

"Like I had said, she had been called without us even knowing. She's been solely relying on instinct," he says.

"And I repeat, what do you want me to do? I fail to see how I could possibly been of any use of anyone for anything," she says with uncertainty.

"Michelle, the new Slayer, is very much like you. Once we had found her, she rejected the very idea of a Watcher. We do not want yet another Rogue Slayer on our hands," he explains, sneering the last part.

"Gee thanks. I'm touched," she says while rolling her eyes. "You know, you aren't helping your cause, whatever it may be, with that attitude," she teases. "So, what is it? You need her ass locked up too and the prodigal Slayer is too busy with the Apocalypse of the month to chase her down?"

"No, we don't want her imprisoned. Unlike you, she hasn't broken any laws," he snaps.

"I'm crushed," Faith grumbles. "So, what is it that you need my help for?"

"Seeing as how you two seem to be kindred spirits of sorts, we need you," he pauses to wipe off his glasses and rub the bridge of his nose to ward off the impending headache. "We need you to be her Watcher," he admits, the very idea paining him to no end.

"Oh, fuck me," Faith says incredulous as she sinks back into her seat. She then bursts out in laughter. "Tell me that was a joke," he shakes his head to the negative and her laughter rises. "The conservative, old-fashioned British assholes need my to be a Watcher to mini me?" She continues to crack up and as her laughter subsides, she takes a moment to wipe away the tears forming behind her eyes.

"Quite," he says with the trademark British stuffiness. "Are you finished?" He asks with more than a little irritation.

"Please, let me enjoy the irony," she begs. After a moment, her face goes serious. "Wouldn't you have been better off enlisting the aid of the 'good' slayer?"

"Well, she may be the 'good' slayer, as you put it, but you actually read the Slayer's manual. You know what is and is not acceptable," he says.

"All the good it did me," she scoffs.

"The way we figure it, there is no one better to train her than another Slayer. As much as the Council hates to admit it, you were actually somewhat on the right track with Buffy."

"What the hell are you talking about 'right track'?" She asks with a snort.

"She needed to see the positive part in her slaying and enjoy it as you so obviously did. The thing that separates you from the other Slayers is that, when you died, it was on your own terms. You didn't let anyone beat you."

"I'm sure that B sticking me with my own knife helped it along," she says with a s twirl of her index finger for emphasis.

"The only person that beat you was yourself," he says with a focused expression on his face.

"Please buddy, can you not wax philosophical on me here? I think I may be physically ill if you keep that shit up," she says with mock disgust. "Can you just be specific as to what exactly this will consist of?"

"So you'll do it?" He asks with hope.

"If it will get me out of this hell-hole, damn straight," she says with enthusiasm.

"Well, you need to train her and help build her skills as a Slayer. You will also need to educate her on her duties and the like."

"So, I will be multitasking as a Slayer and a Watcher," she asks and he nods. "Tell be Shell, will I be getting paid for this double duty?" She asks.

"Oh, of course you will. However, there is a catch," he says sheepishly.

"Shit, figures. What might that be?" She asks with a grimace.

"As you know, she is of high school age and actually attends school," he says pointedly and she raises an eyebrow. "You need to go back to school," he says, closing his eyes and steeling himself for a blow.

"What good will school do if I won't be around long enough to use this useless crap? I mean, if I am supposed to die soon, what's the point. How do you know that I won't die on the way to Detroit?" She asks.

"Michelle is no longer in Detroit," he states.

"What? Did she run away or something?" Faith asks with mild interest.

"No, her family has moved from there," he says to her.

"So, are you going to leave me hanging, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?" She asks, frustrated at his wanting to stall.

"She is in California now. They are about to move from L.A. to San Diego," he informs her.

"That's fan-fucking-tastic, I don't even get to leave the state. It's still pathetically close to Sunnyhell, the Prodigal Slayer and the dorky Slayerettes," she says while rolling her eyes. "She still lives with her family?" She asks.

"Yes. Her parents and her brother, who is also sixteen"

"This is fabulous. Parents always tend to make things a little more complex," she thinks about this a moment. "Oh well, not my problem. When do we leave?" She shrugs.

"Get your things and I'll sign you out," he says with excitement.

"Wicked cool," she says and she smirks at the guards as they take her back to her cell to collect whatever belongings she may have.