Learning Curve
by rebelrsr
Chapter 26
[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 everything after "Who Are You.' 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: Thoughts enclosed by **. Flashbacks enclosed by //.
Archiving: By permission only.
Faith turned around and looked at her witch, reclining on the bed. "I think it's strange," the blonde said. "I mean, I think I should worry."
"Worry about what, T?" the Slayer wandered to the bed and sat down.
Avoiding the question, Tara looked at the brunette. "You're not worried?"
Regarding her lover seriously, Faith replied, "I never worry here." A slow smile tilted normally pouting lips. "I'm safe here."
"Maybe." The blonde sounded sad. "But, am I safe with you?"
"What?" Shocked brown eyes stared at the faintly amused blonde. She stood and paced restlessly to the window.
"It's OK, Sweetie. They will find out, you know. About you."
*About me? What about...* Feeling sick, Faith watched as the blonde rolled over, wrapping the sheets around her body. In denial, the Dark Slayer mumbled, "I don't have time to think about that. I have a lot of work to do."
"Do you think you can get done before class?" The sheet pulled taut around the witch's form as she moved onto her back.
"Class? T, come on. I don't do class." Faith smirked. "You got something you wanna tell me, Blondie?" She waited for an answer, lazily checking out the body posed on the bed.
"That's why I was so surprised you'd enrolled in a drama course, Slayer." A flush rose on the blonde's face. "You don't want to be late. You might miss something important."
"But, I don't want to leave here." Faith was anxious at the thought. It really was safe here. Tara would make sure nothing harmed her.
"Why not?" The blonde sounded only mildly interested, but the question upset the Slayer immensely.
She turned away, walking to stand in front of the curtain-clad window. Lifting the heavy red velvet, Faith squinted into the sunny day outside. "It's so bright," she informed the witch. "And there's something out there," she said in surprise. A black shadowy figure moved through the desolate landscape outside the window.
Tara looked concerned. "Maybe you should check it out on the way to class."
"Sure, T, sure." The Slayer reluctantly grabbed a stake and a long knife. With a last, lingering look at the sexy blonde, she left the room. Once outside, the brunette found herself in the main hallway of Sunnydale High School. Lockers lined the walls, and she was happy to see Xander and Oz. "Hey, guys. What are you doing here?"
Willow's ex-boyfriend gave his small smile and walked with the Slayer as she headed for her locker. "I heard you're taking drama. Tough course."
Frowning in irritation, Faith looked at the slightly built young man. "Dude, I don't take classes. Been outta school for a long time."
"Maybe, but Buffy saw your name on the class roster. She was thrilled. She and Willow are taking the same class, too." Xander stood close behind the werewolf.
"Great. Welcome to the Hellmouth." Faith twirled the lock on locker number 137. "Think you could ask Giles to look into this? Cause I didn't sign up for a drama class, especially one with B and Red in it." Clicking the dial to the combination, the Slayer tried to open the narrow locker door. It didn't budge. "Fuck. I know that was the combination." She cleared the tumblers and started again.
A bell rang stridently. "Hey, better hurry, Faith. You'll be late," Oz commented.
"What is it with everyone?" the brunette snarled. "I ain't going to class. So there's no lateness to worry about."
Xander smiled goofily. "You have to go, Faith. They're all waiting for you. You've got the lead role; the show can't go on without you."
"Whatever." The Slayer stalked off, leaving the boys in the hallway. She headed toward the library, hoping Giles was there. However, when she shoved open the double doors, the teen found herself amidst a variety of costumes, with people scurrying around.
Warm hands grabbed her around the shoulders. Jumping in shock, she turned her head and saw Cordelia dressed in a traditional German outfit. "Isn't this exciting?" the cheerleader gushed. "Our first production. I can't wait for our scene." The taller girl grabbed Faith in a bear hug.
"Whoa, Queen C, what's up with you?" The Slayer stiffened in the embrace. She backed away, staring at the other brunette.
With her trademark hair toss and superior look, the prom queen snapped, "Nothing's up. Just be sure not to step on my lines."
"Whatever," Faith mumbled, confused and a little angry. She walked away, looking for the exit.
"Faith!" Buffy squealed from across the space. She ran over, decked out in a beaded, roaring twenties outfit.
With a smirk, Faith took a long look at her sister Slayer. "Looking good, B. Did Red help you pick that out? If so, gotta say her taste in clothes has improved."
"This place is packed!" The blonde, wearing a short black wig, exclaimed. She completely ignored the mocking comment. "Your whole family is here in the front row."
Faith froze. Her family? Fuck, no. "You sure, B?" she asked, panicking.
The shorter girl smiled. "Of course I'm sure. They're front row, center, and they look really angry."
*Yeah, I bet they are.* The Dark Slayer felt her stomach clench. It had been years since she'd seen her family, but it was still too soon for a reunion. Trying to keep her voice from shaking, Faith asked, "Hey, B, isn't this supposed to be a drama class? I mean, they don't normally do plays on the first day, right?"
Buffy looked at Cordelia. "Is that in the script? I don't remember that line." The shorter Slayer glared at Faith. "Just stop it! Stick with the script." The flapper stepped back and looked around the bustling set. "Where's your costume?"
"B, for the last time, I am not in any play and I am not taking a drama class. What the fuck is wrong with you?" The brunette was getting scared. Was everyone under a spell?
The older Slayer's eyes got big. "Don't worry so much, really! Your costume is perfect. No one will know the truth about you."
Suddenly, Faith felt the old urge to run flare up. She needed to get out of here. As she turned toward the backstage exit, a new voice rose above the din.
"Alright, everyone. Pay attention." Reluctantly pausing, the brunette turned to watch the speaker.
Dressed casually in a faded pair of 501s and a Grateful Dead T-shirt, he waved his hand, beckoning Faith to the center of the crowd. "Faith, are you ready?" The stage lights glinted off the gold hoop in his left ear as he gestured at the curtain behind him. "In just a few minutes, that curtain is going to go up on our first production. The theatre is packed." He slung an arm around a stunned Faith. "And they're all here to see you."
The Dark Slayer was about to respond when movement caught her eye. A shadow flitted through the crowd, disappearing between racks of clothing. "Hey, did you see that?" she asked the older man.
"Now, stay focused," he advised. "Stay in character, remember your lines, and energy, energy, energy, especially in the musical numbers." The man clapped his hands, and the costumed throng melted away, heading for various places backstage. It was time to get some answers.
"Got a few questions for you," Faith said.
"Of course, Faith," he responded. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he waited for his leading lady to begin.
"Who are you?" the Slayer asked. It was a lame question, but the brunette needed to know. So far, he was the only unfamiliar face.
The bearded man smiled genially. "I'm Professor Z. I'm the drama instructor."
"'K, see, that's a problem." Faith stepped closer, lowering her voice threateningly. "I ain't a student and I sure as hell am not in a play."
"The plays already started," he replied. "Have you rehearsed your lines? Your first scene is up soon."
Growling in frustration, the Slayer stormed off. To hell with this, she just needed to find Giles. He'd be able to help reverse the spell the rest of the Scoobies were under. Wending her way through the strangely dressed cast, Faith looked for a way out. Seeing an opening in the curtain, she stepped through, nearly stumbling over the person on the other side. Ready to apologize for barging in, the brunette paled, getting a good look at the individual. "Boss?" she gasped. Richard Wilkins III, late Mayor of Sunnydale smiled genially.
"Hello, Faith. I've been waiting for you." He waved a slim hand at the table in front of him. "I saved some room for these. I just knew you would want them."
Displayed on rich velvet, the Slayer noted the array of torture implements she had planned on using with Buffy in the Mansion. Sickened, she knew she had to leave now. Giles, Scoobies, spells, they didn't matter. She had to get out. Running past the still-smiling man, Faith dashed down a long, dark corridor between two curtains. Finally, not seeing an end to the passageway, she slowed and then came to a halt. Looking around in confusion, the brunette tried to find a way out. "Fuck!" she yelled. Tara appeared out of nowhere to her left.
"It's not going very well," the witch commented.
"No? Really?" Faith mocked. "What's going on, T?"
"You don't understand yet, do you?" Tara looked concerned.
It took every ounce of self control at her disposal, but Faith managed to withhold her scream of frustration. Speaking slowly, between clenched teeth, she said, "I don't understand jack, Blondie. All the funky conversations, the play...And, is something following me?"
"Yes."
"Damn." Faith tensed at Tara's answer. "I need to get to Giles. Maybe he can help me figure out what to do."
"Everyone's starting to wonder about you," the blonde said, staring at the Slayer in concern.
Throwing her hands in the air, Faith snapped, "Tell 'em to join the club, T."
"You have to take this seriously!" The witch looked frightened. "If they find out about the real you, they'll punish you. I can't help you with that."
The sick feeling returned, and Faith wiped sweating palms on her jeans. "Can you at least tell me what's following me? I mean, I just saw the Mayor. It got something to do with last year?"
"Shhh!" Tara warned. She glanced around.
Faith, too, examined their location. Faintly, the Slayer heard a conversation. "Hey, did you hear that?" she asked, trying to locate the source of the voices. It sounded a little like B, but the brunette couldn't be sure. Then, as quickly as they'd come, the voices disappeared. "Fuck!" Faith turned back to her girl, but she was gone. "Tara?" What the hell was going on? Frantically searching for the missing witch, the Slayer forgot to keep her senses on alert.
A taloned hand shot through the curtain, slicing a narrow gash on her shoulder. Hissing in pain, Faith dropped to the ground, rolling away from the attack. More hands and the occasional knife ripped through the velvet. With nowhere to go, the Slayer huddled on the ground, trying to avoid getting stabbed or clawed.
A hand grabbed her arm. Faith couldn't help it, she screamed. "Faith! Come on!" Professor Z peered at her through a gap in the curtain. He pulled the prone brunette to her feet, but kept a firm hand on her back. "Stay low," he commanded. They crept through Restfield Cemetery. "What do they look like?"
"I don't know. I've never seen them," the Slayer answered.
"Of course you know, Faith. You've been here before." Her escort sounded impatient. "This isn't about a play; that's just the metaphor your mind created."