Hear No Evil

SHAMELESS PLUG: Please go visit my very lonely, unreviewed, unrated story, "Breaking Glass", over in Angel fandom. It has Faith! It's slashy! Whee!

We now return you to your regularly scheduled fic.

Chapter Four

Buffy stared after Giles' car until he turned a corner, trying for one last glimpse of the dark head pressed against the window. Willow and Xander ran up behind her--she'd leftm alm all in the dust rushing to get to Faith. Oz followed more slowly, hands in his pockets, watching her with his particular mix of curiosity and understanding.

"So what now?" Xander asked. "Back to the caf for some yummy Jell-O snacks? They're putting grapes in it today. It's crazy, I know, but darn it, it just might work."

Buffy fought down the urge to give Xander a friendly throttling. "No. We're going to research. Will, I need you to look for anything that can cure Faith. Giles said he'd found what kind of demon caused it--the book's on his desk. Xander, you and Oz make a list of anybody who might want to go postal on the school. Find them, question them, tie them down if you have to."

"But, Buffy--" Willow made an apologetic grimace. "We have that quiz on Othello in English today, and..."

"You think that matters?" Buffy asked incredulously. "This is more important. This is--well, there's sillier on the loose."

"But we still don't know that," Xander said. "Okay, I agree, Faith's really sick...but are we just going to believe her?"

Willow shrugged. "I guess Buffy's right. We can't afford not to. I mean, if we don't do anything, and everyone gets killed tomorrow, saying 'Oh, Faith, turns out you were right, oops', isn't going to help."

"Well, I think we should all work on that, then," Xander said. "There's like, eight hundred suspects if we're talking about the whole school. Narrowing it down isn't going to be easy."

Buffy folded her arms against the breeze. That night in the alley, she'd been the one to shove Alan Finch to the ground, caught up in the energy of the slay. She'd been happy, finding the fun, like Faith wanted her to. She'd come so close to saying something--or just grabbing Faith and showing her exactly what kind of fun she wanted to find. And then--she'd almost staked that man herself. One second later, or if Faith had been the one to push him down... It was Ted all over again. That had been the first time she'd lost control, and killed a human--or so she'd thought. Why hadn't she ever told Faith about that? Why did she have to back down when Faith had closed her out? She'd been scared, afraid of what she felt, of what she'd almost done, and now--

She looked up at Willow and Xander, both of them staring at her with concern. Would they have condemned her like they had Faith, if she'd been the one to kill Finch? They didn't know how close it had been...and they never would know; they'd always assume she could restrain herself. But Faith was the poster girl for recklessness, so they just let it all rest on her. They didn't see what Buffy could--that the brash, sexy, overconfident Faith hid someone deeper, someone scared. That was the Faith who had driven off with Giles, her mask stripped away by the pain and the confusio the the demon's aspect.

"We're supposed to be the good guys," she said, finally, quietly.

"Yeah...we are," Xander said, with a confused frown. "See, saving people, right? No mass murders on our watch."

Buffy shook her head. Why couldn't he understand? It was too easy to be self-righteous, play the game as if everything was black and white. "You guys keep saying Faith's evil, but...if we let her die, then what does that make us?"

Xander's face fell, and his dark eyes were solemn. "This is really what you want to do?"

"No," Buffy said honestly. "It's not." What she really wanted to do was to go home and sit beside Faith. She wanted to watch over her, as if being there were the only way to be sure that she didn't fade away. But Xander was in no way ready to hear that. "But it's what we have to do."

Willow reached out and took Oz's hand. "We have to help her," she said. "I know. But it's just--"

"It's Faith, Will," Buffy said. It was all she could say, and it came out sounding weak and lost. She didn't want this--she'd hidden her feelings for so long, and she thought she'd buried them completely. She could have been Faith's enemy, so easily. She could have hated her, turned back to Angel for comfort, forgotten all about this. Left Faith, and all the difficulties she represented, behind. But now, it seemed, everything was forcing her feelings to the top again.

Oz nodded decisively. "So we do it," he said.

Willow smiled at him. "Right. And the sooner the better." She poked Xander in the ribs. "Xander?"

"Yeah. Okay." Xander tried a grin. "Scoobies to the rescue. I won't even hold it against you if we have to write a make-up essay for English class. Come on, Oz, I'll let you play sappy good cop to my tough-as-nails bad cop."

Oz raised an eyebrow at Buffy, gave Willow's hand one last squeeze, and followed Xander.

Willow gave Buffy a little half-smile and touched her hand. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know...with everything...and, okay, I'm supporto-girl, here. I am. But you need to know--I still don't trust Faith not to go running back to the Mayor. And--well, I just don't want to see you get hurt."

Buffy shook her head. "That's not really up to you, Will."

"Yeah...but if it was, I'd kick Faith's butt five ways from Sunday," Willow said. "She--"

"She needs your help," Buffy interrupted. "I need your help."

Willow sighed. "Okay. Right. I am in full research mode. But what are you going to do?"

"I have some things to take care of," Buffy said. "I'll get back as soon as I can."

"All right...if you're sure." Willow tried to hide her worried frown behind a supportive smile.

"Yeah. Go on." Buffy waited until Willad ead entered the school and stopped giving her worried glances over her shoulder. Then she set out at a run for Angel's mansion.

*

Angel looked up from the book he was reading when she burst through the thick curtains, bringing a swath of sunlight behind her. "Buffy," he said. "I wasn't expecting you..."

Buffy nodded. She stepped towards him, then stopped, and started pacing in front of the fireplace. This would be so mucsiersier if she were the one who could read minds--she'd just see what he thought about her, about what he'd done with Faith, and then... Well, and then she'd be the one going insane, slowly and painfully, but somehow right now that seemed preferable to having this particular conversation.

"Last week--" she started, and hesitated. "When you were pretending for Faith..." She glanced over at him, but he was sitting there with a blank look on his face. Not that that was any different from his normal look, but this one seemed more purposefully blank. She bit her lip, then plunged ahead. "You didn't, uh--I mean, you kissed her, but you didn't--" She tried to finish the sentence by jutting out her chin and making a little hmotimotion.

"No." Angel set his book down. "Is that what you've been worried about this week? Whether I slept with Faith? Because, Buffy--"

\ it\ it's not." Buffy stopped pacing and faced him. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, watching her with gentle concern. His eyes were dark, nearly the same colour as Faith's, but so different--instead of her wild brightness, Buffy could only see the shadow of a hundred years of brooding. He'd been truly h jus just once in all that time, and it was her fault. It hurt, that she still feltguilguilty for making him happy. And even then it had been a kind of tender, unhurried yearning, because he'd thought he had all the time in the world. If it had been Faith--

Buffy felt her face warm. If it had been Faith, it would have been like getting caught in a thunderstorm, dazzling and unstoppable.

"Buffy, I didn't sleep with her, and I didn't want to sleep with her. Even if it was safe--I don't feel about her the way I do about you." Angel stood and wrapped his arms around her. He was cold, as always, but she remembered how Faith had felt when she'd carried her from the school, the heat surrounding her body like an aura. She shivered, and turned her head into Angel's chest so that she wouldn't have to look at him.

"Do you ever think about the future?" She closed her eyes, listening to the silence where a heartbeat ought to be, feeling the stillness where there should be the movement of his breath.

"Yes..."

She made a small humphing noise, half muffling her words in his shirt. "But not the real future, right? You think about the future where this all somehow works out. I mean the future where the Mayor or a demon or some random vamp kills me, or the one where I get old and you just...keep going."

"I have thought about it, Buffy." His words were set and emotionless and again she thought how different Faith was, how every word she spoke was filled with something, innuendo or anger or laughter.

"And...it's not going to, is it?"

"What?"

Faith would have understood what she meant. She sighed. "Work out. You and me. This. Us."

Angel took a step back and lifted a hand to her chin, trying to make her meet his eyes. She shrugged away from his hand and moved
away from him.

"What are you saying?" he asked. "That i ove over?"

Buffy picked up the poker and prodded at the dead ashes in the fireplace, keeping her back to him. "When I sent you to Hell..." She swallowed, but forced herself to continue, to talk about the things that they'd refused to acknowledge for so long. "I didn't say goodbye then. I kept thinking that somehow..." She shook her head. "But later--after Faith came--I had to let you go. I came back here. Left your ring on the floor. And the next thing I knew you were running wild in the woods, and then it was just so easy to fall back..."

"Is this about Faith?" At last, she heard something in his voice, hurt and anger, but it felt like it was coming from so far away.

Buffy took a deep breath and turned towards him. "Yes. And no. She--Faith's sick. A demon hurt her. She came back, and--"

"Like I did." Angel was frowning, his eyebrows beetling together. "And you want to think she's reformed?"

"I don't want to think that, I do think it...well, sort of. I mean, I think she wants to be reformed."

"Before Wesley showed up with those idiots from the Watcher's Council, I might have believed you," Angel said. "But now? She doesn't think she can trust us. And, frankly, she might be right. Last week you were holding knives to each other's throats. Now she's making nice, because she's sick? Maybe sing ing ing you to find a cure, and then it's back to business as usual."

"She knows she can trust me," Buffy said simply.

"How?" The word was a challenge.

"The reason she's sick is that she can read minds," Buffy said. "It's killing her."

Angel stalked a few steps away and gave a frustrated sigh, staring at the black-curtained windows. "And this made you decide to come here and tell me you're ending it?"

"It's been ending for a long time," Buffy said. "That's what I came to say."

"Buffy..."

"Goodbye, Angel."

"I'll stay, you know." Angel's was was dark, helpless. "To be with you in thght ght against the Mayor. But after that--"

Buffy nodded. "You'll leave Sunnydale?"

"Yes." He hesitated, then added, "You and Faith..."

"It's not what you think," she said. Yet.

"You don't know what I think." Angel's lips were tight. "That night I found you in the alley, with blood on your hands--you think I couldn't smell her on you?"

Buffy felt the blush staining her cheeks, but refused to turn away. He thought he could treat her like she was a criminal, but she'd done nothing wrong. "We'd been dancing."

"I know. I saw you. But I thought it was just her. I didn't know you wanted--" He shook his head. "I thought we were forever."

"I think you know," Buffy said, "that I don't have forever. And you just wanted me to say it first."

"Wait," Angel said.

She stared at him, waiting, but thinking of Faith, sick and helpless.

Finally, with a hopeless shrug, he said, "You're right. I didn't want to be the one to say it. I couldn't hurt you like that."

"I know," Buffy whispered.

She pushed through the draperies blocking the door and walked away from the mansion, and she didn't look back.

*