Trials and Restorations

~ Part 17: Joyce’s Trials ~

December 19th.

Joyce marked it in her diary and sighed. She was supposed to be back on assignment by now, but she had to admit that she was having way too much fun in Sunnydale.

It was awesome to be with her mom and to see Faith smiling and happy again. It was a sight that she hadn’t seen much of back at the barracks.

The barracks... Home. Where her other family and friends resided. See, here in Sunnydale, she was just a kid. Her mom’s sweetheart, Faith’s kiddo; surrounded by aunts and uncles that loved her...

But back home, she was cadet Finn... a soldier-in-training, with team mates and important, top-secret responsibilities.

Joyce cast her mind back to her last assignment and the request that she’d made on graduation. There had been candles, there had been cake... there had been ultimatums. She was now eligible for emancipation and she was unfazed by that. But her mirth was short-lived when she had asked what would happen to Faith now. The answer was simple; she would be tried for her 'crimes against the Initiative' and if found guilty, put to death.

Her crimes? A few cases of assault and the murder of Captain Riley Finn. Her dad. When Joyce had been told of the murder, she barely understood its severity. She knew that what Faith had done was wrong and that she needed to be punished. But she also knew the slayer a little more than everyone else and knew that she wouldn’t hurt somebody who didn’t have it coming. Her comrades had speculated about it with her and she’d paid regular visits to the on-site shrink... But her questions had remained unanswered for the most part. In fact, the only person that could answer her questions was the only person that they’d not allow her to ask.

Joyce and Faith had been kept separate for the most time, when they’d first arrived at the military base somewhere in a remote South American location. So it was only months later that the cadet had had a chance to ask Faith about what had happened and ask her why the others were calling her a monster. The slayer hadn’t replied at first. Joyce thought that even if she’d wanted to, she’d been too weak to do so.

Thus, much of their time together was spent in silence. Every day after classes- psychology, ops training, target practice classes- Joyce would sneak up to the containment room to sit with her, try to talk to her, guard her.

Eventually, the slayer began to open up to her. Each passing conversation brought some new information. She’d filled in a few gaps and told her a few things that the Initiative officers had neglected to mention. Things like the fact that they had organised Faith’s kidnapping and poisoning before forcing her mother to sign her over to the military. Yeah, that had conveniently slipped their minds.
Faith had said that she was sorry, but explained that she wasn’t going to 'let the assholes that had taken me, to lay a fucking hand on' Joyce. She told her ‘kiddo’ of the oath that she’d sworn to always love her, provide for her and protect her. Faith was like a father... Only better ‘cause she was a girl... and let’s face it; girls rule.

Joyce knew all she needed then; she had all the assurance she needed. After all, Faith was the woman who had helped raise her, read to her when she was bored, sung- albeit horribly- with her in the car on their way to school. Held her at night when she couldn’t sleep…

She’d tried to tell their captors all of this, but the attempt had fallen on deaf ears. There was no doubt in Joyce’s mind as to the way the trial would go and there were a lot of people who were out for Faith and there at the barracks, there was no such thing as a 'fair' trial. Only one that had the Initiative’s best interests at heart. No, she couldn’t take any chances.

She remembered calling the attention of her superior to make her plea.

"Brig?" she’d said, at the doorway of her commanding officer's room.

"Cadet Finn," her senior replied, in the make-shift, small cubby that was her office whilst on operation on foreign soil.

"Lieutenant Hammond said you wanted to see me."

"Yes." The sturdy lady took a deep breath and stood. "Look, Finn, are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And there’s nothing that I can say to change your mind about this?"

The youngster shook her head. "No ma'am."

The officer let our a defeated sigh, as she stood. "Then you have my permission. You will of course remember the rules surrounding our covert military operations - emphasis on the *covert*."

"Yes."

The Brigadier had then anticipated the question Joyce was to ask and continued, "No one will follow you; you have my word. But I want you to give me your word that you will return in time for your assignments in December."

"I promise."

"Ok. We'll try to make your 'escape' look as realistic as possible - within reason, of course." The woman then gave a throaty chuckle. "That said, the slayer's not exactly the sharpest tool in the box; she shouldn’t take much convincing."

And that was that. The plan was set in motion and the charade of their getaway was scheduled to begin at 18:00 hours the following week. Joyce was briefed on the plan, on checkpoints and where they’d find the tools they’d need for their return to America... and finally the expiration date for her freedom.

She looked to the calendar again. If only she’d been briefed on how to make her extraction from her new life hurt less.

But it had to. She knew that if she didn’t go back, they would just send a team for her; she’d been warned as much. No, she needed to go back of her own accord. That way, they might let her come back to Sunnydale during the holidays.

She could only hope.

Joyce looked to the classroom door at Sunnydale High, as it opened as the school bell rang through. She stood along with the rest of her classmates. She slung her backpack on and filed out into the playground, with one of her friends following closely beside her.

"Coming to my house? Jess and Tyler’ll be there." Mikey asked her, as they exited the building. It was officially the last day of school and there was fun to be had... Just not at Mikey’s house.

"Can’t," the youngster replied, she’d already made plans. She caught sight of her guardian for the weekend, casually leaning against her jeep across the way. "Another day, though?"

"Sure thing. Ty’s gonna be bummed though."

"Tell him I’ll make it up to him later!" Joyce called, glancing briefly behind her, before running up to and received a hug from Faith.

"Alright, kiddo, our weekend officially starts now, you ready?" The slayer asked, looking at watch and missing the emphatic nod, the blonde gave in response. "We starting with Sea World or Six Flags?”

"Sea World." Joyce whooped and took her position on the passenger seat of the black auto and reached for her shades from the glove compartment.

"You got it." Faith strapped herself in and started the car and maneuvered the vehicle out of the space. She double-checked with her passenger, "You pack a bag?"

Joyce nodded again. "At home, by the door."

That earned her a thumbs up from the brunette beside her, who simultaneously gunned the engine.

Though Faith eyes were on the road ahead, Joyce could sense that the slayer had something on her mind, so was relieved when she shared, "You know your mom’s hitting the big 3-0 next month? Celebration’s gotta be epic."

"Like as big as my party was?"

"I say we try and amp it up a little, whaddya say?"

Holy wow. Considering the amount of effort her parents had put into her twelfth birthday, topping that was going to be insane.

She thought back to her birthday which had been awesome. Her mom had spent about two weeks before it, organizing it and all her new friends from school were talking about it like it was going to be the best event ever.

Faith was in charge of the music and food – naturally, as they were two of her favorite things. Her mom was in charge of... well, everything else. They’d worked well together as a team. Every other night before patrol, they’d sit with folders and charts, planning and co-ordinating. Joyce had wondered whether it was all totally necessary for a kid-party, but her mother had explained that there were going to be forty adolescents in one non-sound-proofed hall and so ‘major destruction reduction techniques’ were required to ensure that no one lost an eye.

But, the planning had worked. The party had gone off without a hitch and her popularity at school had almost tripled. It was beyond cool.

SO much cooler than her birthday the year before. She’d spent that one in Huxley with her family on her father’s side. Until that Winter, she didn’t know it was possible to have that much corn... Or that there was that much corn in the world… But every meal had a ‘corn’ pre or suffixed to it: corn balls, corn bread, corn cake, corn syrup, corn soup, popcorn… Or just the plain old cob-y kind. Man, Iowa had been dull. Even when there’d been a remote chance of fun with the mention of a football game at the ‘local’ highschool… The four hour drive there had been the nail in that coffin. Then came the icing on the cake… Her grandfather Lou was a farmer and so she’d got to experience the horror of milking a cow.

"See, you gotta squeeze her udders real nice and slow," the easily two hundred-two hundred fifty pound oldie bent low next to the cow, massaging its teat.

"Is it okay?" Joyce had asked in reference to the sounds emanating from the beast.

"Ohh yeah. That gruntin'?" Oh dear God he was bending lower - thank goodness for coveralls. "She loves that, don’t ya, Gilly-Sue? Gonna give us a lot of milk today, aint ya, baby? Today’s milk’s gonna go down real smooth in Pop’s cornbread."

If only he could have seen the scene himself through Joyce’s eyes, he would have anticipated the fact that Joyce’s corn-cereal breakfast was about to make an unwelcome return… All over the barn floor.

The youngster hoped that the cleaning bill for that would be the antidote to any future invites from the Finn-clan.

Oh she was most definitely a city girl. The bright lights, fast pace, the shopping sprees… Her finger was totally and firmly on the city-pulse. That’s why she loved it whenever her mom and her had ‘girl-time’ weekends down in LA.

Los Angeles was definitely the place to be and not *so* far away from Sunnydale. Joyce wished that she could move down to LA for good one day. Her aunt Cordelia had told her that it ‘didn’t look like she’d got the dwarf-gene from her mom' and so she could probably be a model if she got an agent. It was something that Joyce had never really considered, what with her wanting to be a Psychiatrist slash military-sponsored Astrophysicist one day… But she guessed she could fit it some modelling in around that; she’d make it work.

Faith’s car pulled up outside a small house on a quiet street and upon looking out of the window, Joyce’s face was a picture of the confusion that she was feeling.

"Thirty seconds, kiddo. Gotta change. Come on in, you can meet D."

D. The infamous Delana. Or the home-wrecking-bitca (HWB) as she was un-fondly referred to as - courtesy again of aunt Cordy. Faith seemed so smitten with her. Every other day it was 'gotta get D this' or 'have to make D that'. It was totally vomit-worthy.

Faith let them into her new home and the HWB was stood in her living room painting. She couldn’t see the picture, but she was sure it was dumb. Who paints anyway? Hippie!

"How was work?" HWB asked.

"Like work." Faith laughed. The youngster beside her stood forward as she was introduced with a, "Babe, Joyce. Joyce, D."

HWB did that annoying crouch-to-eye-level thing that adults did when they were trying to be super-nice. "It’s so nice to finally meet you," she said, sickly-sweetly. "Faith talks about you all the time."

"Hi," was all the blonde would get from Joyce.

The cadet heard Faith laugh and ask her to, "Give me a second to get changed would ya? But sit, chill."

"Ooh!" Miss I-so-get-my-hair-colour-from-a-bottle perked up. "Can I give Joyce some of your special Pecan Pie?"

The youngster caught the slayer’s momentary hesitation followed by the narrowing of her eyes. "Alright... Just don’t leave her alone with it, okay?" Faith then proceeded upstairs, ridding herself of her motor-oil stained tee.

The moment had made both girls laugh simultaneously and the youngster un-tense... A little.
"Come on," Delana took her by the hand. "You have to try this pie, Joyce. It’s delicious."

Then a little more.

The youngster was led to the kitchen and had a chair pulled out for her at the dining table.

Okay, okay, so maybe the whole HWB title was a little harsh. Delana was nice enough... She just wasn’t Joyce’s mother.

See, her parents belonged together... Period.

Anything or anyone standing in the way of that needed to be annihilated... Period.

Only problem was, she was running out of time.

--

Next: Faith’s Trials.