A/N: AU story. There are a lot of differing "theories" out there as to Faith's age. Most people seem to think that since she was called after Buffy that Faith is younger, but, the Buffy and Angel Wiki put her at about a month older. I have no idea if that has ever been declared canon or not, but, I am going with that.

A/N2: Rated M for language, violence, sexual situations and probably femslash and at least references to spanking.

A/N3: I am not classifying this story as a crossover as I will only be using characters and events from BTVS as well as OC's and my own events. That said, I will be using ELEMENTS of other shows with a supernatural bend to them. This wil lbecome more evident as time goes on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or any of the characters, events, or places. Kinda glad I don't. That sounds like a loft of pressure. Only things I own are the story and original characters that may appear.

Guardians Of The Hellmouth

Prologue: Decisions.

The world is full of possibilities. What if's. What if Adolph Hitler had won World War II? What if Jimmy Carter had been elected a second term instead of losing to Ronald Regan? What if Ringo Starr had been a REALLY good drummer?

Your life, your destiny, even the world can be changed by a simple decision. Do we move to Ohio or stay in California? Do we call the police or not? Do I leave my husband or not? So, if one decision can change the world, what happens when at least four decisions are made differently than we are used to? Come with me, and we'll see._Whistler

Romania 1898

Darla was bored with Romania already. It was a dreary little country, crawling with gypsies. She could tell Angelus was bored too. Darla had gone off hunting on her own the night before and found the most charming little gypsy family with a teenage daughter who was JUST the type Angelus loved to go after. She'd decided to kidnap the young girl as a gift for Angelus. THAT ought to bring some excitement!

She was about to leave the house they had "adopted" this evening when a sudden wail caught her attention.

Drusilla! snarled Darla internally. As useful as she could be, Darla was going to stake the mad vampire herself one of these days. And her idiot lover William, no, the fool insisted on being called "Spike". Angelus ghad proven himself very creative when he'd driven Dru mad,then turned her, but, both she and her progeny were proving to be more trouble than they were worth, with Dru's fits and Spike constantly bringing angry mobs down on them. Darla sighed and went in the other room to see what the twit was on about now.

Dru was on her knees on the sitting room floor, practically tearing her hair out, Spike kneeling next to her, cradling her in his arms.

"What's wrong love?" he asked, concerned. Darla stepped up next to Angelus who looked equally perplexed.

"Daddy!" screamed Drusilla. She had this ANNOYING habit of looking on Angelus, her sire, as her father, and Darla, as Angelus' sire, as her GRANDMOTHER of all things! "They're going to take him all away!"

"Who's gonna take me away, darlin'?" asked Angelus, is Irish brogue getting stronger, as it always did when he was perturbed.

"The gypsies!" wailed Dru. "The nasty wretched gypsies. They're going to take my Daddy away and leave only the Angel Beast!" She looked at Spike. "Don't let them, my Spike! Please, don't let them!"

"I won't, Luv," answered Spike in his still affected cockney accent. Darla had little doubt that enough time doing it and that accent would eventually become real.

Darla turned to Angelus. "What the fuck is the "Angel Beast"?" she asked.

Angelus shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I don't like the sounds of it."

"Then we need to make sure the gypsies CAN'T take you from us," said Darla, possessively.

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It was finally daylight, and Magda led the children of the Kalderash back to their camp. When Petru had come to her, breathless, and told her that four mad vampires were slaughtering the camp, she'd wasted no time in gathering as many of the children as she could and escaping into the woods.

They walked into the smoking remains of the camp, to find everyone dead. Most drained of blood, but, there was apparently a limit to how much a vampire could consume, as a number simply had their necks broken

Magda happened along the body of Petru's daughter, the favorite daughter of the camp, frequently called the Jewel of the Kalderash. The girl had obviously been violated at least once before she'd finally been drained.

Magda spat on the ground and cursed. Those filthy vampires! She looked at the crying children. She knew they would bear this grief the rest of their lives and pass it on to their children and their children's children. The suffering of the Kalderash would be eternal.

And so, the suffering of the vampire's would be eternal. Magda remembered a spell. It was dark magic and would surely cost her her soul but it was worth it. Vengeance was a living thing and it was time to feed it.

Decision

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Boston, Massachusetts Early 1997

Faith Lehane was fifteen when her mother's latest boyfriend tried to rape her. Key word here, TRIED. Faith's father had left years ago, and her mother had descended into alchoholism and abuse. Faith was no stranger to getting smacked around and having no idea what the reason was. When she got big enough to fight back, her mother just had one of her boyfriends smack her around. But, given the scumbags her mother dated, Faith had miraculously managed to avoid being raped. Touched, yes, Kissed a few times, but never violated.

Until the latest asshole had come home drunk and horny and Faith's mother, Doris, was already passed out. He'd grabbed her and started pulling at her clothes. Faith had wasted no time in kicking him right where it did the most good, screaming the whole time, then run and locked herself in a closet, screaming bloody murder. Neighbor's had heard her, as they had heard her screaming during beatings before, and had apparently had enough, because, they'd called the police.

That was two months ago. Now, Faith, now 16, had spent the last two months in a foster home with people who obviously cared way more about the money they could get for taking her in than about Faith herself, as the courts investigated whether or not to remove Faith from her mothers custody. The decision had been a resounding yes, and Faith's mother was in jail awaiting trial on child abuse charges. The last Faith had heard that asshole Freddy was in a prison hospital, recovering from a surgical attempt to repair the testicle she'd shattered when she kicked him. Right now she sat in a social workers office, waiting to find out what was to be done with her.

The social worker came in and sat down, spreading a file on her desk. "Hello Faith," she said.

Faith nodded. "What's gonna happen to me?" she asked.

"We've found the relatives you told us about," the social worker said.

Faith nodded again. Her mother had an older sister named Margaret, or Aunt Meg. Meg had married a nice man named Peter McNally and they had a son her age named Jesse. Faith hadn't seen them in years, as they had sort of shunned her mother as she spiraled further and further into alchoholism. "And?" Faith asked, not wanting to jump to any conclusions.

" "They've agreed to take you in," answered the social worker. " We need a couple of days to process everything, then you'll leave on a bus for Sunnydale, California."

Decision

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Los Angeles, California The same time

Buffy Summers sat on her bed sadly. Her parents divorce had just been finalized, and their house was up for sale. Her mother, Joyce, said she wanted to move from LA, and get a fresh start for her and Buffy. But, Buffy knew, no school in LA was going to accept her after the trouble at her old school, Hemry High. She'd been kicked out after burning down the school gym. That wasn't entirely her fault though. She'd been called as a Vampire Slayer a few months ago, and, in the pursuit of her duties, she'd started getting into trouble. Then, after getting kicked out of school, her parents divorced. Buffy blamed herself and this so called calling for that. Now, her Mom was scouting locations for their move.

"Buffy?" called her Mom as she walked upstairs to Buffy's room and stood in the open doorway. Joyce was an attractive woman, with sandy brown hair. Buffy favored her a lot in looks, but, was a good four inches shorter than Joyce.

"Yeah, Mom?" said Buffy, a little nervously. Things had been strained between them since the trouble. Both were trying, but it was hard for both of them.

Joyce smiled as she sat on Buffy's bed next to her. "I just got off the phone with an old college friend of mine," she said. "Remember how I was wanting to open an art gallery wherever we decided to move to?" Buffy nodded, she knew her Mom had her BA in art. "Well, my friend happens to own an art gallery and is looking for a partner. I agreed to buy into the gallery, so, we'll be moving within a few days."

"Where to, Mom?" asked Buffy, a bit sadly. She really didn't want to leave Los Angeles.

"Cleveland, Ohio," answered Joyce.

Decision

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A small town in Alabama. At the same moment.

Diana Maclay stood in the ticket line at the bus depot in her home town in Alabama. Though sixteen was too old for this she was holding her daughter Tara's hand. She couldn't help it. The poor child had been through so much in her short life.

Diana had married Donald Maclay fresh out of high school. He'd been so handsome and charming back then. Little had Diana known how controlling, manipulative, and downright mean he was. He'd refused to allow her to work, saying a woman's place was in the home. As time went on, Donald had gotten more and more controlling, and actually abusive. They'd had a son, Donald Jr. who was Donald's pride, and a daughter, Tara, who Donald barely acknowledged at first.

Then, things had gotten weird. Donald started abusing Tara too, no broken bones or anything, just smacking her around, or spanking her even if she didn't deserve it. He told Tara, and had completely convinced her, that the women in their family were part demon, and only the men could keep them under control. Diana was a hereditary witch, and when Donald had caught her trying to teach Tara to use her own powers he had gone ballistic,beaten them both, and told Tara her powers were PART of her demonhood. Shortly after that, Donald had started teaching Donny how to "keep his siter under control" and turned responsibility for her over to him.

Recently, Diana and Donald had walked in to find a naked Tara, with welts on her back, bottom and thighs, on her knees in front of Donny, crying and protesting as he had a fist tied in her hair, yelling "Do it!" His pants were around his ankles and he was sporting an erection.

Diana had freaked, but Donald had merely told the boy to get dressed and go to his room, saying "boys will be boys" and actually trying to blame Tara for tempting her big brother. Diana had had enough after this and spiked the beer Donald had demanded with two sleeping pills. After Donald had passed out, she'd taken Tara and the bea tup old truck they owned and left, Donny yelling at them all the time. She'd driven to the bank, emptied their account, thank the Goddess Donald had let both of their names be put on the account, abandoned the truck and walked to the bus station.

"Mama," said Tara, in a scared voice. "What if Daddy finds us?"

Diana swallowed down a lump, looking into Tara's trusting blue eyes. "He won't, Baby, " she assured her, as they were called next in line.

"Where to?" asked the bored looking man behind the counter.

"We need a bus that's leaving quick," said Diana. "Doesn't matter where as long as it's far away from here."

The man consulted his charts. "We have a bus leaving in twenty minutes for a little town called Sunnydale, California,"said the man.

"We'll take it," said Diana, smiling down at Tara as she paid the man and took their tickets.

Decision

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Watchers Council Headquarters, Great Britain a couple of days later.

Rupert Giles sat in the office of Quentin Travers wondering what the devil was going on. To his right was sitting a woman several years older than himself named Diana Dormer. He knew her a little, enough to greet by name if they ran into each other. She seemed intelligent, very competent, and perhaps a bit less tied to tradition than most Watchers. To his left, was a young man named Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. Giles didn't know him at all, but had heard he had fairly recently graduated to full Watcher, and had graduated top of his class in the Watcher academy. Well, bully for him. The acadamy did provide good training, but, couldn't REALLY prepare you for what it was really like out there.

Giles was confused as to why they were all here. When he'd originally recieved the summons, he entertained the notion that he might be assigned as Watcher to the current Slayer, Buffy Summers following the death of her former Watcher, Merrick Jaimeson-Smythe, but Diana and Wesley's presence made him doubt that. Not that he was likely to be anyway. Not with his reputation amongst the Council as something of a "rebel".

Quentin Travers came in, greeted the three and sat down. "I know you're all wondering why you're here," he said without preamble. "Well, you are all three being reassigned. Normally ,these interviews would be conducted separately, but, time is of the essence here.

"I know you have all heard of the death of Merrick Jaimeson-Smythe. His Slayer..." Travers studied his notes. "Miss Buffy Summers' mother has recently decided to move Buffy to Cleveland, Ohio. Ms. Dormer, as senior Watcher here, you will be located to Cleveland as Miss Summers' Watcher."

Diana nodded. "Thank you, Quentin," she said.

"There has been some speculation within the council as to where Miss Summers is needed," said Travers. "Cleveland HAS been recently discovered to be a "hotbed of supernatural occurrances" if you will, so, Mrs. Summers decision to move there SEEMS well advised, but, we've also discovered two other "hot beds". Los Angeles, California, and Sunnydale, California.

"Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, you will travel to Los Angeles and assess the situation there. Report to me directly so the Council can decide if THAT is where Miss Summers' abilities would be better put to use."

Wesley smiled. It may not be supervising a Slayer, or a Potential Slayer, but this WAS an important job. "Thank you, Sir," he said, a little pompously. "Rest assured I will do everything in my power..."

"Yes, yes yes, of course you will," interrupted Travers. "As Roger Wyndam-Pryce's son, I expect no less." He turned to Giles.

Giles was fuming. It was pretty clear he was about to be assigned to Sunnydale. Sunnydale was a much smaller town than Los Angeles or Cleveland, and thus, the least important assignment. Wesley, a fledgling Watcher, was being assigned to Los Angeles while HE was being assigned to Sunnydale? It was an insult! Giles was sure his rebel reputation was behind this. Well, he wasn't going to take THAT.

"Mr. Giles," said Quentin. "A newly discovered Potential Slayer by name of..." he consulted his notes again. "Faith Lehane is also moving to Sunnydale to stay with relatives there. We are sending you to Sunnydale both to supervise Miss Lehane, and to do the same job in Sunnydale Wesley is in Los Angeles."

Giles was stunned. He might have expected one job or the other but BOTH? This was now a VERY important assignment. "Er, th-thank you, Quentin," he said.

Travers smirked at him. It was clear, he'd done the assignments this way to get Giles goat. Ah well, Giles thought as all three were dismissed.

He was off to Sunnydale.

Decision

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A/N3: Probably my longest prologue yet. LOL. But then, there was a LOT of scene setting to do. Hope you're all intrigued by the idea and enjoyed the prologue. As always, I'll try not to be TOO long between updates, but, the Bill muse does what the Bill muse does. LOL