TITLE: Crosses To Bear (14/?)

AUTHOR: Rebecca Parker

EMAIL: NumfarGal@aol.com

RATING: R

PAIRING: B/L

SUMMARY: Buffy is with Lindsey for a year to get Faith out of jail. Things are getting complicated...

TIMELINE: Just for clarity, let's say this fic takes place somewhere between Seasons 4 & 5 of "Buffy".

FEEDBACK: I do the dance of joy upon receipt of feedback.

DISCLAIMER: Joss and Mutant Enemy own all.

DISTRIBUTION: All the usual suspects. All others, please ask first.

DEDICATION: To Moe.





Cordelia sipped her coffee with her knees pulled up to her chest, an involuntary yawn escaping her throat. Her hair was a mess, her clothes wrinkled. She had spent the night researching their latest case with Wesley, since Buffy's arrival had put them back a few days with their clients.

"Anything at all?" Cordelia asked, exasperated as she flipped another page aimlessly. She stared at Wesley, who sat across from her, looking every bit as tired as she.

"I'm sorry to say- nothing at all," Wesley said, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "It would help if we had some more support. A case like this, there's so many books we could need to go through."

"Yeah well, Gunn's out hitting the streets, and Faith and Angel are off dreaming of sugar plum fairies or whatever," Cordelia said, putting the book down in front of her and reaching up to pull her hair into a ponytail. She sighed as she fastened it with an elastic that had been wrapped around her wrist. "This whole Buffy thing was the worst thing that could have happened. As if things weren't weird enough with Faith being back."

"Yes," Wesley admitted, looking to her. "I know I try to pretend that everything is fine, but-"

"But," Cordelia agreed. "Angel's just expecting too much of us if he thinks he can just snap his fingers and we'll forget everything that happened. I mean, OK, we were good for a few days, but even I'm not that good of an actress. And you- you're like a Pauly Shore."

"Hmm?" Wesley asked, confused. "What does that mean?"

"It means that when it comes to acting like you're cool around Faith, you suck. You avoid looking at her, make lame excuses to get yourself out of a room when you're with her. Do you want me to go on?"

"Not usually," Wesley said, grinning slightly. "I try. I do believe she's trying to change."

"You do?" Cordelia asked, leaning forward. "I mean, really?"

"I suppose," Wesley said. "In all honesty, I do believe that. It's not that I don't trust her."

"It's not?" Cordelia asked, surprised. "Cause I figured that's what it is. You know, especially since I don't, and I just got an elbow in the face. Compared to you, that's like a paper cut."

Wesley nodded. "I believe that's what the cause of my discomfort is. It's not that I doubt her sincerity in this recovery period, it's more that I can't help but remember the details with such vividness when I'm around her."

"Well," Cordelia said, leaning back in her seat and rubbing her tired eyes, "Maybe you should just keep on avoiding her in the one on one sense. I mean, until you're ready."

"I'm not sure that will ever happen," Wesley admitted. "As much as I may want it to."

"Well then we may have a problem, Wes," Cordelia said. "Cause Angel seems to think having her around is just a dandy plan, and if you're going to always be uncomfortable with her around, I think that's just about as un- dandy as you can get. Maybe you should talk to him," she said, her voice low and sympathetic. "Wesley, you're more important than her."

"I'm not a Slayer, Cordelia," Wesley reminded her. "I'm just a washed up ex- Watcher whose only skills are in researching."

"I don't think so," Cordelia said. "I think you're skills are that you tend to always be right, as frustrating as it may be at times. But right now, you're wrong. You're way more important than her. She's just a ticking time bomb, Wes."

"Mornin'," Faith said, moving into the room and stretching her hands into the air as a long yawn escaped her throat. She wanted to pretend like she hadn't heard what was just said, and hoped she was doing a good job at it. "Long night?" she asked, flopping down in the empty chair next to Cordelia and crossing one leg over the other.

"Yes," Wesley said, shifting in his chair. He adjusted his glasses, trying to balance out the different levels and reasons of unease that had washed over him. "This latest case is quite the enigma."

"Yeah well, I'm sure you'll figure it out. You were always good at that book stuff," Faith said, shrugging. "So you'll figure it out, and then we'll go kick some ass."

"Sounds like a plan," Cordelia said, yawning again. "That is, if we ever do figure it out. Not sure how good of a job researching we're going to do with our eyes shut tho."

"Been up all night?" Faith asked, leaning back in her chair so the front legs came up.

She looked the two of them over and noted how wrinkled and exhausted they both looked. "Shoulda come and got me. Been having problems sleeping lately anyway."

"We didn't want to disturb you. You and Angel both came in so late last night. Was everything alright?" Wesley asked, flipping the page and avoiding looking directly at her.

"Yeah. We went to some karaoke place." Faith shrugged. "That's some weird shit."

"Caritas," Cordelia said, nodding. "You didn't sing, did you?"

"I resisted the urge,' Faith said, smirking.

"And Angel?" Cordelia said, her voice almost afraid. "Did he...sing?"

"He resisted it too," Faith said, laughing. "He's that bad, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Cordelia said, laughing. "I think I've lost part of my hearing since his musical debut." She smiled. "Thankfully. Cause he's given a few encore performances since then."

"Yeah well, I didn't get the pleasure of hearing him. He just got in a little spat with that green demon guy." Faith frowned at the memory of her conversation with him. "I didn't like him. Weird vibes on that one."

"Lorne?" Cordelia asked, tilting her head to look at Faith. "Oh, Lorne's a darling!" she said, smiling. "Angel got in a fight with him? What happened?"

"Well, no blows were exchanged, but it wasn't exactly the friendliest conversation ever. Guess this Lorne guy knows what's the what with Buffy, but apparently mum's the word."

"Lorne wouldn't help Angel?" Wesley asked, looking from Cordelia to Faith. "That's peculiar. He must know how important this is to Angel. When it comes to Buffy-"

"Yeah, and maybe that's why he's keeping his mouth shut for once. Maybe the news isn't good and he doesn't want Angel going all Angelus on us all," Cordelia offered. "Maybe it's best if we just forget about Buffy and Lindsey and just work on what we're here to do- help the helpless." She sighed. "And pay the rent! Does Angel know how bad our finances are?"

"He does," Angel said, walking into the room and heading straight for the coffee machine. "You know, you guys should really work on being quieter. Sound carries in this hotel," he said, pouring himself a cup.

"Oh, like you don't know what we think of this whole situation," Cordelia said, frustrated. "So listen, maybe you didn't hear the part where we talked about how we've been up all night and how we're getting nowhere on this case which, by the way," Cordelia said, her tone higher, "is a paying gig. So as much as I bet you'd love to find out what's going on with Buffy, it's not a priority."

"To you," Angel corrected her.

"Heck yeah, it's not one to me. And it shouldn't be to you either. Angel, you're not together anymore. You haven't been for a long time."

"Thanks for the history lesson," Angel said sarcastically. "And while normally I appreciate your opinion, Cordelia, this is not one of those times. I'm going to find out what's going on with her."

Wesley sighed, looking away from the group for a moment. He had yet to tell Angel what he had been dreading, and now seemed an opportune time. "Angel, when I went to see her yesterday, there didn't seem to be anything wrong. She seemed...happy," Wesley said. "Now, I may not like her choice, and I may continue to worry, but I do believe her feelings are true. And we don't have time to waste to mend your ego."

He looked away again, his words coming out harsher than he had intended. This wasn't an argument meant to be had when half the people involved hadn't slept in days. "Angel, I think you need to accept it."

"I don't have to accept anything, Wesley. I make the decisions around here, and we are going to find out what's going on. I refuse to believe she would be with him by choice."

"Of course you wouldn't," Faith said, scoffing. "You know, for someone who pretty much lives in a world of gray, you sure do have a knack for seeing everything in black and white."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Angel asked, turning to the Slayer and glaring at her.

"It means that maybe your little Buffy isn't the little Princess you think she is. Maybe she's got reasons for being with him that you don't want to hear."

"Yeah," Cordelia said, standing up and placing her hands on her hips. "Faith's right, Angel. There are a lot of reasons she might be with Lindsey. Sex, for instance."

"I don't want to hear this," Angel said, turning away angrily.

"Of course you don't," Wesley said, standing up and walking towards Angel. "But whatever her reasons, she is with him now. And I believe her feelings are true. I'm sorry Angel, I am. But perhaps you need to accept it. This is all clouding your judgment. You're willing to throw all we have away just to satisfy this situation to yourself, and I'm afraid you never will."

Angel turned back to the group, and his face was glowering with anger. "This conversation is ending right now. We're going to continue to find out what is going on, and if anyone isn't fine with that, they know where the door is. I suggest they use it."

With that, Angel took his cup of coffee and stormed out of the room angrily. The rest of them were standing there, astounded.

"Well this is great," Cordelia said. "Way to lose focus. Buffy always does this to him. She's like his Kryptonite or something. He gets around her, and all of the sudden, he has the mentality of a three year old."

Wesley nodded, sinking back into his chair and throwing a nervous glance to Faith, who had returned to hers. "We'll have to continue to work on both cases," he said, sighing. "He won't budge, but we still need to pay our bills." He sighed. "I suppose it's fortuitous that you came to us now, Faith." He smiled awkwardly. "With you and Gunn back on our team, we at least have some extra manpower."

"Yeah," Faith said, shrugging. "I'm in. Still working on this whole teamwork thing, but I'll give it my all." She looked around. "Where is Gunn, anyway?"

"He's out researching the case on a street basis," Cordelia said. "He'll probably check in later tonight." She got up, stretching her arms out and yawning. "Well guys, I'd love to just stay up all night and page through books on innards and gizzards and stuff, but if I want to be able to think clearly at all, I need my beauty sleep." With a wave, Cordelia left the room.

"Yes, I suppose I'll call it a night as well," Wesley said, closing the book in front of him. "Faith, would you mind researching for a bit? You know the details of the case, do you not?"

"Yeah, I remember," Faith said, nodding as she grabbed a book and flipped to the middle.

"Perhaps you should start at the beginning," Wesley said, leaning over and turning the pages to the front. He looked up at her, his eyes searching hers for a minute. "There," he said, pulling back. "That text may contain valuable information."

"OK,' Faith said, smiling at him shyly. She couldn't help but notice that his hands shook when he turned the pages, and she still felt guilty for what she had heard him say before she walked in.

She closed her eyes for a minute, and the sound of her laughter came back. She could feel the heat of the blowtorch; she could feel the sharpness of the blade of glass that she had used to cut him. She shivered as it all faded away as quickly as the memory had come over her. He wasn't the only one who was haunted by that night.

He started to walk away and she opened her mouth. "I'm sorry," she said to him, and he stopped.

Wesley turned around, watching the Slayer look to him with compassion and sorrow. "You heard," Wesley said, nodding. "I'm sorry also. You weren't meant to-"

"No," Faith said. "It's fine. I knew it wasn't going to be all peaches and cream and shit," she said, shrugging. "Listen, I know you guys need help, but I don't have to stick around if you don't want me to. I can pack a bag and find somewhere else to go tonight if you want."

"I don't want that," Wesley said, shaking his head. "I don't. I just need time, Faith. What happened that night-" His voice drifted off, and he had to shake his head to get the memory out of it.

"Yeah," Faith said, nodding. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Wesley said. He wanted to say something else, but he found that words failed him. "But we do need you here, and I do appreciate the help you've given and the attempts to redeem yourself. I just need time," he said again.

He turned around again, feeling as if this was an awkward situation he no longer wanted to be a part of. His lack of sleep was impairing his thinking, and this was, again, another conversation he needed to have when he was thinking more clearly. "Good night Faith," he said, and he didn't wait for her response before he left the room.



++++++++

Buffy had purposefully slept late; thinking correctly that Lindsey wouldn't wake her when he left for work. She had kept to her side of the bed, and he had kept to his, and, for that, Buffy was grateful.

She had rarely been so confused over her feelings. Even with Angel, things had made more sense.

She rolled over in bed and hugged the pillow close to her. She had no reason to have feelings for Lindsey. He was, she knew, a symbol of what she spent her life fighting. He represented evil- literally.

She closed her eyes, moving her hand up to cover them and block out the light that seeped in nevertheless. She had patrolled for hours the night before, coming home only minutes before her curfew. Things had been slow, and she was starting to catch on that vamps in LA operated differently than vamps in Sunnydale. Patrolling the cemeteries wasn't nearly as productive, and considering the higher rate of graves, that wasn't a good sign.

She opened her eyes again and glanced at the alarm clock that sat beside the bed. Even through the blurring, she could read that it was only 11:30, and she rolled back over with a frustrated sigh. She was so tired of spending her days inside this apartment. Shocked as she was to admit it, she even missed school. She hadn't planned to take the semester off, and her mother had been upset when she had given her the news about dropping out and moving away.

Joyce hadn't understood, and Buffy couldn't say she blamed her. The scene seemed all too familiar to the one they had before Buffy ran away those years ago, and the memory of both fights still upset her.

The first time, she had known her mother was wrong. She didn't understand what it was to be a slayer- the sacrifices that had to be made. The second time, she had known her mother was right. But she also knew that her mother didn't understand the guilt that had consumed Buffy for months over Faith, and the willingness she had to give up everything to make it right.

Buffy sat up in bed, swinging her legs over the side as she heard her mother's words in her head. "This isn't you, Buffy. I don't understand how you can do this." As she moved from the bedroom to the bathroom, she continued to remember that last argument. "You're making a mistake, Buffy. You're throwing everything you have away, and you're not even thinking about who and what you're leaving behind."

Buffy groaned as she reached the bathroom, her feet stepping onto the cold tile. She didn't want to think about what had happened in Sunnydale before she left; the fight with her mother was one of the lesser ones she had had when she announced her decision to move to LA. At first, they had all assumed it was an Angel thing, but she had set them straight. She couldn't let them think that, even though it would have at least made things somewhat easier to explain.

Buffy stripped out of her pajamas and grabbed her bathrobe from the back of the door where it hung neatly next to Lindsey's. She reached into the shower and turned on the hot water, feeling the steam begin to fill the room. She walked away, closing the door behind her and heading to the kitchen.

She was about to open the refrigerator when the phone rang, and Buffy sighed; she didn't quite feel like talking to anyone. She picked the phone up off the counter and held it to her ear for a moment before she answered it. "Hello?" she finally said, her finger depressing the on button.

"Buffy, it's me," Lindsey's voice came from the other end.

She didn't answer for a moment; her breath caught in her throat at the different emotions hearing his voice caused her.

"Buffy?"

"Yeah. Buffy Summers, Present," she said finally. "What do you want?"

Lindsey was put off by her tone of voice and took a moment to answer. "I just wanted to check in. See if everything was OK."

"Everything's fine," Buffy answered, not willing to say any more for fear of what would come out.

"Um. OK," Lindsey said, and Buffy could hear the confusion on his end. "I just wanted to remind you about tonight. I probably won't be home until morning."

"Yeah," Buffy said, nodding as she moved to sit on the kitchen stool. "Kate night."

"Yeah," Lindsey answered, trying to judge the tone of her voice. "Are you OK with that?'

"You're really asking me that?" Buffy asked, laughing. She couldn't help it- she couldn't imagine how, after last night, he could possibly think she would be.

"Yeah. Sorry. Stupid question," he said. "You'll be alright home alone tonight?"

"I don't know," Buffy said, sarcastically. "I mean, I have these supernatural skills to destroy evil, but those shadows in the corner are kinda threatening."

"You're angry," Lindsey commented.

"About constantly being belittled? Yeah, a little," Buffy said, switching the phone to the other ear. "Look, you go out with Kate tonight and you have a wonderful time. Tell her you like her shoes- that usually works. And you know, I'll be at home knitting and mixing you martinis, and I'll see you whenever you find your way back."

"Buffy-"

"Drive safely, Lindsey," Buffy said, slamming the phone down on the counter and struggling to catch her breath. He made her so angry and, at the same time, she still couldn't help but feel those jealousy pangs that had kept her up the night before.

"Damn you Lindsey," Buffy said, heading back to the bathroom and opening the door, the steam rushing out and enveloping her as she let her bathrobe slip to the floor.

She hated him right now. And all she wanted was, for five minutes, to forget.



TBC.....