Wearing Masks (Part 4)
Disclaimers
Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.
Archive:Go right ahead. Just let me know, please
Spoilers:All the way up to "Who Are You?"
Summary:Buffy is Faith, and Tara is . . .
Rating:R (MPAA) - violence, language, f/f concepts
Notes:Faith (in B's body) has seduced Willow and murdered the Mayor (who was in Tara's body). Unknown to her, Buffy is free, and has revenge on her mind.
The picnic was my idea.
Way I figure it, I must be going soft. We'd been back in the dorm room only twenty minutes when I started gettin' hungry. It was pushing on for eleven, and I hadn't eaten anything since early the night before. Even in B's body, my hunger turned out to be kinda vocal.
Red, who was sitting at the computer, calmly getting ready to hack into UC Sunnydale's records, twisted in her chair and gave me a shy smile.
"Someone sounds hungry."
"Yeah." I answered, as my stomach reminded me that I didn't even get to eat those two oranges, after what went down with the Mayor.
"Why don't you go get something at the coffee shop? They should be open by now. I can work here until you get back."
If I had the faintest clue where the coffee shop was, I'd do just that. But the experience of trailing along behind Willow, trying to pretend like I knew where 'our' dorm room was, still hung in my mind. Red's no dummy, and sooner or later she's gonna pick up that 'Buffy' is actin' a little odd. Gettin' lost while looking for the coffee shop ain't about to help matters.
"I got a better idea." I peer out the window. As usual, it's a bright, sunny day. A fact that reminds me uncomfortably of the mayor. "Why don't we go by the store, get some food, and eat out on the lawn?" At least I know where the store is.
"You mean like a picnic?" Red gives a bashful smile. "With me?"
Damn, she's cute when she pulls that 'shy rose' thing she has. When I first blew into town, I figured Red was my prime rival. Then it turned out B was so straight you could rule lines with her, and I ended up losing out to the walking corpse, instead.
"You see any other hot chicks in the room for me to picnic with?"
"Just you." She deadpans, then goes bright red. I laugh, then pull her toward the door. Just as we reach it, she stops and frowns.
"What's up?"
"Buffy . . . are we doing the right thing?"
I suppress a sigh. Emotional stuff sets me on edge. But I can't blow the question off. For one thing, I need Red's help too much. For another, Buffy would give her an answer. As for anything else . . . well, let's just leave it at that.
"This is about Tara, right?"
She nods,
"And Riley."
"Riley's out of the picture." I can answer that one easily enough. The boy has no imagination. "I'll tell him next time I see him."
"Are you sure?" Willow looks down, "He's our only contact within the Initiative, Buffy."
I'm glad Red's looking at the floor, 'cos I have no idea what she's talking about. I'm getting that familiar feelin'; the one that things in my life are way outta my control. So I do the same stupid thing I do every time that happens: I try to tough it out.
"When you feel something, you feel it." I squeeze her hand, "I don't feel anything for Riley." And that's the purest truth. "We'll get by without him, if we have to."
"And Tara?"
I pause, wonderin' what the hell to say to that. Finally, I clear my throat,
"If I'm right about her, you're better off with her outta the picture. If I'm not . . . she was probably dead before you even called me, last night." I try to soften my voice for the last part, but I don't know how good a job I do.
Slowly, Red nods, then looks up at me.
"But you don't think you're wrong, do you?"
"No." I admit, with the sincerity of someone who knows exactly how right they are.
"Okay." Red says in a small voice, then gives me a wobbly smile, "let's go picnic."
As we head out of the dorms, I'm feelin' pretty good. Buffy's off to England to face my just desserts, Red's obviously smitten, and I can even pretend to myself that the mayor might be out of the picture for good.
Yeah. I know. Stupid.
----------
I lean against a tree near the centre of the lawn, enjoying the feel of Red snuggled up against me. We could've gone for one of the tables near the path, but Willow wanted to sit on the grass. My ass is a little damp from giving in to her pouts over that, but the sun's baked off most of last night's rain, so it's not too wet. Besides, I'm feeling too good to be bitchin' about it. For one thing, I'm stuffed from the meal we just ate. For another, it turns out that shy little Willow knows a spell or two for falsifying ID. Who woulda thought it?
I grip the neck of one of the beers she bought and stifle a belch. It wouldn't do to belch. Not very Buffy-like. The thought forces me to stifle a giggle. Maybe drinking in this body wasn't such a hot idea. Four brews never used to affect me this much.
"Shouldn't you slow down with those beers, Buffy?" Red has been nursin' her first for nearly an hour, and pulling a face every time she takes a sip. She tilts her head up to look at me, her expression concerned. "Remember what happened last time."
To cover the fact that I have no idea what she's talking about, I lean down and kiss her. Her mouth tastes like beer, but sweeter. I could get used to this.
"I'll be careful." I hedge, and waggle the bottle casually. "Last one. I promise."
"Not much of a promise, since we only bought a six pack." She mock-grumbles. I blink, and check the empties beside me. Oops. Five brews, not four. Musta lost count. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I don't think we're supposed to drink alcohol here."
"Relax, Will. Ya gotta find the fun." That earns me a funny look, though I ain't sure why. "What I mean is, it's Sunday. There's no-one here to bitch at us, right?"
As if to prove me wrong, two guys come jogging across the lawn. One black, one white, both studly in the clean-cut way that B seems to dig these days. The black guy glances across at us just as I lean in to kiss Red again, and damn near trips over his own feet.
Willow has her eyes closed, so she doesn't see the two of them come to a halt, staring at us. Damn pervs. But we both hear a fragment of what the black guy says to his friend:
"-ing dyke-"
Willow opens her eyes in time to see the look on my face. She tries to grab my arm, but by then I'm already on my feet, walking toward the two guys. I ball my fists, my good mood gone.
"You got a problem, asshole?" I fling the words at the black guy, ignoring his friend. Muscle jocks, both of 'em. Probably gayer than I am.
"No problem, Buffy." The white guy says calmly, putting his hand on his buddy's arm.
"Yeah, we just hadn't heard you and Riley had broken up." I guess he should've put that hand on his buddy's mouth, instead. "Good to see you got over the heart-ache so quick, though."
I flatten the smart-mouth with a right hook, and glance to see if the white guy wants any trouble. He steps back, spreading his hands to show that he doesn't. I think about hitting him anyway, but figure it might be the booze talking.
"You should get your buddy to a doctor." I suggest, pointing at his unconscious friend. "I think I hit him a little harder'n I meant to."
He gives me a grim look and shoulders the body as I head back to Red. It isn't until I get under the shade of the tree that I realise she's pouring out the last of my beer onto the ground.
"Hey!" Dammit, I sound whiney. "That's m'beer."
"I think you've had enough." Red can look wicked determined when she wants to. "You're not acting like yourself, Buffy."
"What, them?" I gesture vaguely after the two guys, "They were assholes. Nobody talks about my girl like that."
Red blushes, but doesn't back down. The girl has stones, gotta give her that.
"Weren't they Riley's friends?" she sounds worried. After a second, it occurs to me that maybe I should be too. New body or not, I'm doin' the same stupid-ass things I always do. Red's no fool, and neither is the Watcher. I keep this up, and one of them is going to cotton on to me.
Then I look past Willow, across the lawn, and I realise that it's a little too late to start worrying.
----------
Even after a whole day to get used to my new look, it's wicked odd seeing my own body walking toward me. I should've realised that those Council idiots would never be able to hold a Slayer, even if it was just B. She's brought friends, too. Xander, Giles and the college boy are all with her, spread out in a line like the guys in that movie, "Tombstone". Coming with them is a smart move on her part. It'll help to convince Willow who she really is.
Letting me see her coming wasn't so clever.
Red hasn't noticed them yet, and I reach a hand up to gently caress the side of her neck, looking straight at B as I do. She slows, then stops, as do her stooges. We both know I could snap Willow's neck before any of them had a chance to stop me.
For a long, silent moment, we stand there. I see Red notice my stare, and start to turn. I know it's my chance. If I grab her round the neck, I can use her as a hostage and a shield. With Red's life on the line, B won't be able to try anything. I'd be able to walk out of here, then get the hell outta town, like I shoulda done in the first place.
Red sees B, squeaks in fear, and backs up against me, hard. In Buffy's body, I'm exactly the right height to look at her neck. The neck I should be grabbing.
"Shit." I mutter the word out loud, disgusted with myself. All I have to do is play the hard-assed bitch one more time, and I can walk away. But I'm remembering the way that girl looked at me last night. The way Red's been looking at me all day. The look that says they think you're something special.
And suddenly, I'm tired of it all. Too tired to add another lousy, screwed-up act to my lousy, screwed-up life. Twelve months too late, I'm gonna take B's advice and stop runnin' away every time I foul something up. Don't get me wrong, I ain't going all Mother Theresa all of a sudden; I'm just tired. And, fun though this body is, I want it to be me in the mirror when my number finally comes up.
"F-faith." Willow stammers at last, still staring at the others.
"Actually, that's B." I pitch the words just loud enough for Red to hear, and she freezes instantly. It's a long, silent second, before she turns to look at me. Her face is whiter than I've ever seen it, and there's a look in her eyes like she just wants to die. I give her a crooked smile, trying to ignore that it hurts to do it.
"Sorry, Red."
For a second, I could swear she's about to hit me. But instead, she slowly walks backward, her horrified eyes still locked with mine. Immediately, B and her lackeys are moving toward us, but I don't look away.
"Red . . . Willow . . ." my voice is even more hoarse than usual as I start to talk in a rush, "I know you've got no reason to trust me, but I meant what I said about Tara. Find out what she was up to. All our lives could -"
Then my own fist knocks me cold.