Learning Curve
by rebelrsr
Chapter Fifteen
[reviews]
Disclaimer: All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and lots of people in expensive suits. I'm not making any money here, just trying to create a happier Buffyverse for my favorite characters.
Spoilers, etc.: I altered the timeline of "The Yoko Factor," "Primeval," and Angel the Series "Sanctuary" with reckless abandon. It's mostly AU from here. Thanks to the best beta crew: Desirata41, Zenithar, and Zigpal I couldn't do it without you.
A/N: Character thoughts are enclosed by **. Flashbacks are enclosed by //.
Archiving: By permission only.
Tara looked up at the question. Faith stood just inside the door, head covered by a towel and her arms filled with shower supplies. At first, she couldn't think of an answer. However, that difficulty soon ended as the witch remember her first heart stopping reaction to Faith's disappearance. Leaping off the bed she marched toward the Slayer. "What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong, Faith. I got back and you weren't here."
The brunette actually backed away from the irate blonde, until her back was pressed against the closed door. "What part of 'it isn't safe for you to go out' did you not understand?" Tara demanded.
"Whoa, hold on a minute, Blondie. I just went down the hall. No one was around." And then, in a brief flash of unaccustomed honesty, the Slayer admitted, "Well, there was this one blonde chick, but she was in a hurry to get to class."
Tara glared at the unrepentant Slayer. "Faith," she said between tightly clenched teeth, "why are you back in Sunnydale?"
Looking confused, the younger girl answered, "'Cause B's outta commission for a while and you said you needed help with Adam."
"So, you are here to take over until Buffy's out of the hospital." Tara repeated.
"Yeah, T. I don't get the attitude. I'm still right here, waiting to be called off the bench." The Slayer moved from her position by the door and walked around the blonde. "Now we've got that all cleared up, can we eat? I'm starving."
Tara kept her back to the Slayer, getting her emotions back under control. *Getting mad isn't going to help*, the witch thought. *She doesn't see that getting caught means more than just jail time*. Finally, after a few deep breaths, she pivoted. Faith had put the robe back in the closet and hung the wet towel over the register to dry. She was pawing through the various bags, examining the meal options. The last of the witch's anger drained away as she laughed. "So, why didn't you just grab a belt to help keep those up?" she questioned, gesturing at the pants the Slayer was still holding on to her slight frame.
Smirking, Faith replied, "Didn't think about it until I was down in the shower room." The Slayer sat on the floor and spread several containers around her. "Better hurry, T. I wasn't kidding when I said I was hungry. If you don't get started, there may not be any left."
The witch joined the brunette on the floor and took a few of her favorites. She could tell the Slayer had a question from the way the younger girl would glance up and then quickly look away again. "If I have food on my clothes, just let me know. Otherwise, ask your question."
Surprisingly, Faith blushed. "OK. Um, I'm glad you're not mad anymore, but mind clueing me in on what got you so heated up a few minutes ago?"
*Goddess, I'm not sure either one of us is ready for where this conversation might lead.* Tara knew her feelings for the brash Slayer were moving quickly. After Willow, she didn't want to get too involved too fast, especially since Faith had mentioned her motto. The brown eyes gazing at her weren't going away without answers, though. "I'll try," she replied. "First, though, let me ask you a question. When you first got to Sunnydale and started working with Buffy, did you do the whole Scooby routine? You know, research, food runs, moral support?"
"Hell, no. I stayed in my crappy motel room until they called me up," Faith bitterly responded. She paused and looked away. "Alright, Blondie, that ain't entirely true. Me and B clicked right away; although, she never was comfortable with my attitude toward Slaying. Things were going great until my new Watcher showed up."
"Wesley?" Tara interrupted.
"Even Wes would have been an improvement over the first one. Gwendolyn Post. She showed up and kinda separated me from everyone. Told me I was special and I didn't need the gang's help." A wry smile twisted Faith's lips. "She was saying just what I wanted to hear. Me and B got sideways of each other pretty quick, and then I found out she was hiding Angel up at the manor. Long story short, my Watcher had been fired and had really come to Sunnydale to get some magical glove. After that, it was like I said. I warmed the bench until Giles thought B needed a breather or backup."
"Thanks for being honest with me, Faith," the witch said.
"Ah, hell, Blondie. Don't make a big deal out of it," the Slayer grumbled.
Putting away the leftover food, Tara looked over at the other girl. "It is a big deal, and it's part of the reason I was so mad."
"You were mad 'cause I lied to you?" If anything, Faith sounded even more confused.
"No, sweetie, it had nothing to do with you telling the truth. I was mad because you weren't thinking of anything beyond just taking a shower. You didn't consider what would've happened if someone had recognized you."
"Sunnydale PD isn't exactly brimming with talent, T. I would have been able to outrun them."
Frustration snaked through the witch, but she forced herself to say calmly, "Maybe. That isn't really the point, though. You came here to help Buffy and the rest of us defeat Adam. If you had to run from the police, or if you were sitting in a jail cell somewhere, who would be left to fight Adam?"
Finally, a glimmer of understanding lit Faith's brown eyes. "Oh. So if something happened to me, then Plan B wouldn't work and you don't have a Plan C."
"Oh, for Goddess' sake, Faith, I don't think of you as just 'Plan B,' Tara exclaimed. "Do you really think we only see you as a tool and not as a person?"
"Sure, Blondie," the Slayer shrugged. "Just ask Giles. That's exactly how the Council views Slayers. We serve a purpose, for a while, and then we die and they get a new one."
Tara wasn't sure if she wanted to cry, scream, or be sick. The younger girl believed the words she'd just uttered. No doubt, no hesitation, no anger. To Faith, the truth of those words was absolute. "I don't even know what to say to that," the witch stammered.
"Nothing to say," Faith replied casually. Cocking an eyebrow at the cartons next to the blonde, she asked, "You want to save that?" She flashed a dimpled smile. "I'm pretty sure you mentioned your fridge is too small for food."
In a distracted tone, the witch said, "Go ahead," and scooted the food toward the Slayer. Still mulling over the last few minutes of conversation, she idly watched Faith devour the last of the food. "Faith?"
"Yeah?"
"When all this is over, we really need to talk."
***
Both girls froze. Willow's hand still rested on Buffy's breast beneath the blanket, and she devoutly hoped the thin cotton masked exactly what had been going on. She cast wide green eyes at the Slayer, begging silently for help.
The blonde came to her aid, just like always. "Hey, Mom. Ah, Doctor...?" Although she was flushed, Buffy's voice was calm, like she got caught in compromising positions every day.
"Girls, this is Doctor Gardner. He's here to give us some more information about Buffy's condition." Joyce valiantly tried to swallow her grin. Willow hadn't moved since they'd interrupted the intimate exchange and she looked terrified. Her daughter, on the other hand, was watching her intently, gauging her reaction to the scene she'd witnessed. Deciding to tease the new couple a bit, the older Summers commented, "Willow, dear, I think you forgot to mention a few things when we talked last night. When were you going to tell me about your new girlfriend?"
Willow gave a choked whimper and tried to bury her flaming face in Buffy's neck. "Mom! That's so not nice," the Slayer said.
"Hmmm, maybe not. But I'm your mother. It's my duty to make sure Willow has the proper intentions in mind before I can give you my blessing." Joyce smiled fully at the couple. "Now, Willow, why don't you stop trying to meld with my daughter and get off the bed, OK? I'd like to at least pretend Buffy is pure when you go to your marriage bed."
The redhead catapulted off the bed. Still avoiding eye contact, she sat down in the chair she had vacated earlier.
"Ms. Summers, you were very lucky. The puncture wound in your side missed any vital organs. The torn muscles will be painful, but will heal in time. I am more concerned with the swelling along your spine," the doctor said. He was a tall man with a patchy goatee. Buffy wasn't sure if it was his dry, monotone delivery or the serious nature of the message, but she disliked him instantly. "So far, we haven't found any damage to the spine itself, but until the swelling goes down, there is a danger of further injury."
"But, I'm healing. This isn't a permanent thing," Buffy said.
"Not permanent, no. But you are looking at a lengthy recovery process. Possibly as long as six weeks. During that time, if you are making proper progress, you'll need to see a physical therapist to strengthen the damaged muscles."
"Six weeks?" Willow finally recovered her voice. "But-" she clamped her mouth shut. *Six weeks? We can't wait that long. We have to go after Adam soon*.
"It's OK, Willow. I'm sure things won't take that long. You know me, I heal pretty quickly," Buffy tried to reassure the redhead that she would be ready for duty sooner than the doctor thought.
"I admire your optimism, Ms. Summers. It will go a long in helping the recovery process," he nodded to Joyce. "If you have further questions, I'll check in some time tomorrow. We'll see about scheduling the therapy then."
"Thank you," the older woman murmured. She waited until the doctor had gone, closing the door behind him.
An uncomfortable silence filled the room. "Mom —" Buffy began. She stopped when her mother raised a hand.
"Don't, Buffy. Teasing aside, what happens between you and Willow is your business. I think I've learned a few things over the years." Joyce walked over and put a comforting hand on the redhead's shoulder. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. But, come on, girls, it was priceless."
The young witch giggled suddenly. "Yeah, Mrs. Summers. I'm just glad you came in when you did. We kind of got carried away." She glanced up at Joyce with an apologetic smile. "This wasn't really how I thought we would tell you. Besides, we," she looked shyly at Buffy, "haven't really had a chance to work out all the details ourselves."
"It looks like I'll have plenty of downtime to get used to the new 'us,' though," the Slayer commented, grasping Willow's hand. She tried to smile. "I guess we really need to talk to Tara about other options."
The novice witch grimaced. "Oh, boy. I'm so not looking forward to that conversation. I've got some serious apologizing to do."
"You'll get your chance soon, Willow. Mr. Giles and Xander are on their way. Faith and Tara will be here around seven." Ignoring the girls' shocked expressions, Joyce continued calmly. "It's time this family made its peace."