Learning Curve
by rebelrsr
Chapter Sixteen
[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.
"Maybe you're right, Mom," Buffy smiled at her mother's look of disbelief. "Not joking, really. Tara was able to see it wasn't me in my body at the Bronze so she must be pretty good at seeing auras or whatever." The Slayer looked at the redhead next to the bed. "We're going to have to trust her about Faith, no matter what. I'm not ready to go after Adam myself." She stroked Willow's face. "I'm thinking it's time we all grew up, Will. Let the past go."
"But, Buffy-"
"No, Will." The Slayer interrupted the flustered girl. "We need Faith, and somehow Tara convinced her to come back and help out. Be honest, baby, if you were Faith, knowing how much we all hate you, would you come back? I would have laughed at Tara and kept on running."
"Faith didn't have a choice about coming back." Joyce smiled faintly at the pair of confused looks she received. "Whatever else she may have done, Faith is still a Slayer. She can't ignore that any more than you can, Buffy."
"She ignored it just fine while she was working for the Mayor," Willow snapped. "I mean, hello, she held me at knifepoint and she killed that professor."
The older Summers frowned. "Well, I don't know the whole story. Someone," she flicked a sharp glance at her daughter, "keeps me out of the loop on most things. But I saw her today. She's not doing very well with being here." Joyce hesitated. She didn't want to divulge the brunette Slayer's breakdown, but she needed to find a way to get Willow to back down from her anti-Faith stance. "Look, Willow, whatever reasons you have for not liking Faith, you have to put them aside right now." Without shame, the blonde woman used her trump card. "It's either Faith or Buffy heading out to face Adam. Make your choice."
The young witch looked less than pleased. She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't trust her."
Sharing a look with her mother, Buffy fielded this objection. "Baby, I get that you don't trust her. But you told me earlier you trusted Tara. Has Tara ever lied to you? Been wrong when she's read someone's aura?" Buffy slowly rolled onto her side so she could face the redhead. "You and me — we can't see what Tara does. What if she's right about Faith? Can we risk letting a bunch of people die just because we're too stubborn to admit we're wrong?"
Staring at the bedridden blonde, Willow mulled over what she'd just heard. Finally, reluctantly, she replied, "I guess you're right. Tara is a really powerful witch. She told Giles earlier that she can see surface emotions in auras, but I think she really sees more than that. Plus, she doesn't give her trust very easily." She looked away from Buffy momentarily, thinking about some of the stories the blonde witch had told her about her family. "I'll shelve my feelings about Faith until after Adam's been destroyed."
The admission was reluctant, but Joyce relaxed slightly. "Good. Now we just need to get the men on board before Faith and Tara arrive."
***
Swallowing a mouthful of food, Faith smirked. "Yeah, Blondie. I think you've said that before. You're gonna be awfully busy after the big showdown."
Tara raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I am?"
"Hell, yeah. That's twice you told me we gotta have a big heart to heart once the Tin Man's out of the way. And," the smirk got bigger, "we have a little unfinished business to take care of."
The blonde could feel her face heat, but responded smartly, "It seems we are going to be busy, then. I'm not doing either of those activities alone." The brunette nearly choked on her food as she laughed. "Now," Tara glanced at the clock, "we have a couple of hours before we need to leave for the hospital. Although my power reserves are in better shape than this morning, I'm going to need to do some meditation." She smiled teasingly at the still eating brunette. "We also need to see what we can do about your clothes."
"No worries, T. I'll just use one of your belts," Faith replied.
"I don't think you want to go to the meeting in my retro-60s flower power pants," the witch commented. "Somehow, it takes away from your bad girl, evil killing persona."
Finishing up the last of the leftovers, the Slayer stretched out on her stomach propping herself up on her crossed forearms. "Think it would keep Red from using her magic on me?" Despite the humorous tone, Tara could tell Faith was uneasy about the upcoming meeting. "I mean, if it keeps me in one piece, I'm willing to look like a hippie."
The blonde laughed at the vision of Faith in her embroidered bell bottoms and a paisley top, flower stuck behind one ear. "Maybe some other time," she said. *When we don't have an audience and you aren't trying to hide your emotions with jokes*. "I'll take your other clothes down to the laundry room. We should have enough time to run a load through." She climbed to her feet and began grabbing supplies and clothing.
Faith looked away from the witch. "Hey, Tara?"
Tara looked up in surprise. It was the first time since their initial meeting in the Bronze that the brunette had used her full name. "Yes, sweetie?" she asked, concerned.
"Thanks for all this." The younger girl moved slightly and waved a hand at the room. "I mean, you put yourself out on a limb for me. I —" she struggled to put her thoughts into words. "Just wanted to say thanks for trusting me enough to let me stay and helping me get back on the right side of the fight."
"It's my pleasure, Faith." Tara was very glad the embarrassed Slayer wasn't looking in her direction. The shy, hesitant words from the normally brash and confident brunette brought tears to her eyes. Blinking the tears back, the witch tried to diffuse the heavy emotion with humor. "Promise you won't sneak out for another shower or a trip to the Pump?" she asked, hand resting on the doorknob.
Dimples just peeking out, Faith nodded. "Sure, T. Don't want to cause any more waterworks today." With a chuckle, she continued, "Save 'em for when we meet with the Scoobs. Sure to be plenty of heavy hitting and nasty comments then."
Growling a little, Tara dropped her bundle of laundry and stalked toward the prone Slayer. "You know, I'm really hurt you still don't trust me to keep you safe," she said. "What do I need to do to prove that I won't let anyone," she emphasized the word, "hurt you?"
Startled at the blonde's vehemence, Faith sat up. "Whoa! Damn, Tara, I didn't mean anything. I was just trying to lighten things up."
"In case you missed it, I'm not laughing." The witch wasn't going to let this go so easily.
"Yeah, got that." Faith looked directly at the older girl for the first time since the aborted love making earlier. "T, I got no doubts you'll get between me and anyone trying to take me on." The brown eyes were filled with new emotions: fear, concern, and *maybe, just maybe*, Tara thought, something more intense than simple friendship.
"As long as we're clear on that point, Slayer." Tara stepped back, breaking the tension slightly.
"We're more than clear, Witch," Faith mocked the blonde's choice of names. "Now, since you said no hippie clothes and I don't really want to face the gang naked, can you go wash those clothes already?"
Shaking her head and laughing, Tara picked up the pile from the floor and headed out of the room,
***
Buffy fell asleep waiting for Giles and Xander. Sitting close and resting against the edge of the bed, Willow kept an uneasy vigil over the blonde. Periodically, she glanced at Mrs. Summers who sat perched on a chair across the room. Willow wanted to talk to her surrogate mother about the afternoon's startling revelations, but this didn't seem to be a good time. Contemplating the meeting coming up, the teen felt a leaden ball grow in the pit of her stomach. *What do I say to them? I mean, I didn't really mean everything the way it sounded, but, damn it, some of it was the truth*. Sighing and gently stoking the arm closest to her, Willow acknowledged that she was simply going to have to apologize and hope it was enough.
Nearly an hour passed before a light tapping sounded from the doorway. Giles and Xander stood there, both wearing hesitant expressions. Mrs. Summers walked over to them while Willow gently shook the Slayer. "Buffy? Come on, sweetie. The Scooby gang is here. It's time to talk," the witch tried. As she had noted the other morning when she woke wrapped in Buffy's arms, the blonde slept like the dead. Getting a bit more energetic in her shaking, Willow tried to wake Buffy. "Hey, Slayer, rise and shine. Xander and Giles are here to see you." Finally, she noted a change in the other girl's breathing. "That's it, sweetie. Open your eyes so we can get started."
Hazel eyes crept open. "Get started with what, Will?" The Slayer's voice was rough with sleep. "Didn't you get enough groping earlier?"
Willow's face exploded into flames at the husky teasing. Joyce snickered, while Giles and Xander seemed frozen in shock. "Um, no, sweetie. Remember the meeting with Xand and Giles? It's started without you."
Although Buffy's eyes widened a bit as her brain caught up with the witch's words, she smiled naughtily. "Too bad. Was wanting to pick up where we left off." Rubbing sleep from her eyes and carefully pushing into a more seated position, the Slayer greeted the two Scooby statues. "Hey, guys. Sorry about not being ready for the big meeting. Did Mom and Willow fill you in on everything?"
Recovering slightly, the ex-Watcher replied, "Ah, no, Buffy. I'm afraid we've just arrived."
"Oh, OK. Then we can do the whole explaining thing now," she said. Grasping her witch's hand, the Slayer continued. "I know I've missed a lot of drama the last couple of days, but can we hold off on the heartfelt apologies Willow has planned and get down to business?"
Smiling slightly, Willow squeezed the hand holding hers. "Buffy, you don't have to protect me. I'm OK." Turning to face the others, the witch forced herself to meet their eyes. "Giles, Xander, I don't even know where to begin. What I said in the chapel was uncalled for and not exactly the truth." She frowned. "I can't explain it. Ever since Faith showed up in my room, I've been Overreacting Girl."
From the minute Buffy had woken up and asked about the groping, Xander's attention had been focused solely on the by-play between the two girls. Finally shaking off his preoccupation, the young man looked at his oldest friend. She was wearing the same clothes she'd had on when they'd found Buffy. Dark circles ringed tired green eyes and her hair stuck up in an interesting and asymmetrical spike pattern. It was obvious she was running on nerves alone. Despite a lingering resentment for his college-attending friends, Xander knew Willow hadn't intentionally shut him out. "Hey, Will, you're my best friend. This little bump in the road isn't going to change that." He bent over awkwardly and hugged the much smaller girl. "Just — let's try not to get so wrapped up in our lives that we lose contact again. I'll come out of my basement and stop pouting," he grinned, "if you and the girls venture off campus every once in a while."
"Oh, Xand, I promise," the redhead choked out.
"Now, just so I know you're sincere and all, what's the what with you and Buffy? You guys seem closer than normal." He tugged at a strand of red hair. "Is this the reason you were so hesitant to commit to Tara?"
Willow couldn't answer the question. She stared at the brown-haired boy in shock. Thankfully, there were more pressing issues at hand, and Giles stepped in to remind the teens of their jobs. "Perhaps we should spend our time more constructively? Hmmm?" Reluctant amusement showed in his eyes, but the years dealing with the outrageous bunch of students gave him experience in hiding his own sense of humor.
Sucking in a huge breath, the young witch nodded rapidly. "Good-good idea, Giles," she said. However, she wasn't ready to move on entirely. She had yet to tell the older man just how sorry she was for lashing out at him.
The ex-Watcher noticed her bracing herself and guessed at her actions. "Willow, my dear, it's forgotten. Although your delivery was a bit harsher than necessary, your point was valid. It's bloody humiliating when someone nearly half your age can see what's going on before you can." He gave his trademark half smile. "I'd say the Scooby gang is back and ready for action, yes?"
Before the redhead could respond, a voice drawled from the door, "Sure hope the forgiveness train still has a few empty seats."