One day is an attempt, two days become a pattern! I am putting these together on the same day, but I do hope to get better at making these daily posts.

A couple of things of notes with these (a disclaimer for every post):

• I do roll up a word count aspiration, but I am trying not to view myself as a failure if I don’t hit it for some reason.
• These are all one-shots. They’re to get me in the writing headspace, as well as play with some characters I love.
• I do post these on my blog, as well as on AO3, as well as on my Tumblr. So, the off chance you see it somewhere else, that’s why.

Today’s prompt is:

An ex-con wants to investigate a defeated cult [that was] based on a mass grave, but justice will come too late for the living.

Here’s how it came about. You’ll notice I forgot to roll up a fandom, so I sat to think where there was any ex-cons before I retconned someone into one, and once I remembered my love of Faith Lehane, it all came together.

And if this one isn’t your particular flavor, here’s the cards so you can make your own!

And without further ado, here’s today’s story!

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Faith stood in the graveyard, hands on her hips. Something about tonight’s patrol felt… off, and not in a good way. She debated calling Buffy to see if it was a Slayer intuition thing, then shrugged the idea off. She needed to trust her own instincts more, now that she was out of prison. She appreciated Buffy and Angel’s decision to not send her back, what with her helping stop another apocalypse and all. While Sunnydale was still a large hole in the ground, the area around it had started to develop, treating the cave in as some new valley.

The hellmouth was always going to attract new souls to torment. But that was one of the Junior Slayer problems; she and Buffy had left for different corners of the earth. She did the math again — Detroit was on central where Buffy was, and Faith supposed she was roughly seven hours ahead. She picked up the phone and dialed.

“Greetings, Faith,” the soft British voice came through the phone. Giles had returned to England after Evil tried to even the scales. He was working with Willow and Little Summers to start back up the Watcher program.

“Hey Giles,” Faith replied. “My spidey senses are acting up; wanted to check in.”

“Interesting. Where are you patrolling these days, again?” She heard a click as he put her on speaker phone so he could move between books easier.

“Greece. I stopped through on my way to Croatia. Figured I’d get a tan during the day, kill some vamps at night. But now I’ve got the willies,” she said.

“Greece in August? Something about that does sound familiar. Dawn’s just finished cooking dinner; let us look through some books and call you back.”

“Sounds good; give my best to the little one.” Faith hung up before Giles could offer any response. The relationship between the old Scooby gang and her was still rocky; it likely always would be. She put the phone into her back pocket and continued on her patrol.

It didn’t take long before someone fell into step behind her. She didn’t turn or let on she knew they were there, but continued walking the dark streets, hands in her leather coat. Fifteen minutes later, she couldn’t deny that not only was she being followed, but she was now outnumbered five to one.

She rolled her neck, popping and stretching it out. Realistically she was still as limber and flexible as she had been when called to be a slayer, but that didn’t mean she could completely ignore that she was aging. Even still, five to one — even if it turned out to be five vampires — was still a walk in the park. “All right, I think we can all agree following a woman while she walks alone at night is grounds for kicking your ass, so might as well come out now.”

It was silent around her for a moment before several people stepped out from the shadows, maintaining their distance. “We need your help,” a small man standing in front of her said.

“Sorry, not working on commission these days. Plus, following a woman at night for her help is hella icky,” Faith replied.

“I assure you we mean you no harm,” a second one spoke up. Faith looked over at the woman as she stepped into a street light. “You’re Faith Lehane, correct?”

Faith felt her pulse pick up as she tried to keep herself from reaching for a weapon. “Who’s asking?” she bit out. She felt her phone buzz with an incoming call, which she ignored. Even if it was Giles, this took precedent.

The woman in the street light sighed, rubbing her eyes. “My name is Adriana Clark. I am on loan for the museum you’re trespassing through.”

Faith looked around, realizing she was standing in a courtyard. “Ah — sorry. I wasn’t paying attention; I can get off your property.”

“That’s not what I’m asking, actually. Forgive my bluntness, but you are the slayer, correct? We called the Watcher organization, but given what’s happened over the last few years, we weren’t expecting a quick response.” She held her hands up, showing that they were empty. “Could we convince you to come inside and chat?”

Faith surveyed the group as they all came into the light. While none of them looked particularly tough, she wasn’t convinced they were entirely human. Still, she was intrigued in what a museum would need with a Slayer.

“Yeah okay. I could use a coffee.”

She followed the crew through the back door into a building, down a corridor of office doors. The conference room they stepped into was cozy, with research papers and folders spread out throughout the room. It reminded Faith of Willow’s organized chaos over the years. They even had a cork board with documents posted to it. She felt her phone buzz again, this time with a text message. She pulled out her phone, confirming Dawn had messaged her.

“Giles looking more info on Greece and Slayer spidey senses. Further deets?” – Dawn

Faith shot back a text: “Ambushed by museum geeks. Not sure if related? Who is Adriana Clark?” She put kept her phone in her hand as she put it back in her coat pocket. “Whatcha got for me, doc?”

“The Edwardian cult is back,” Adriana responded, no preamble. Before Faith could ask, she added, “they were a cult defeated back in the 1200s. Archeologist often confuse their worship sites as mass graves due to violence or war, but its a sign of devotion.”

She pulled a few folders of info together and passed it to Faith, who started reading the top page. It took her a few minutes to read through the first few pages and finally put together what had these people so concerned. She pulled her phone out, hitting redial.

“Hey Little Summers,” she said when Dawn picked up. “Fire up the Scooby jet. It’s time to head to Greece and stop another apocalypse.”