About three hours had elapsed since Buffy and Faith had parted ways on the street, and the greater portion of that time had been spent very uncomfortably answering the questions of Detective Stein. Having no other option, Buffy had told him lie after lie until he finally left her alone, though he didn't look as if she had convinced him.

It was no good. She needed to talk to someone about this. And, as she also needed to repair the rift that had grown between herself and Willow, her house was where she headed. She felt the stress coiling and twisting in her insides as she raised her hand to knock on Willow's balcony door, thinking that she was probably going to have stomach ulcers by the time this was over—if it ever ended.

The door opened, and there was Willow, looking unsure of how to react to seeing her best friend standing there.

"Hey," said Buffy.

"Hey," said Willow.

"I need to talk to you," said Buffy, making no attempt to conceal just how desperately she meant it.

"Good," said Willow, turning and walking towards her bed. Buffy entered and closed the door behind her. "'Cause, I've been letting things fester. And I don't like it. I want to be fester-free."

"Yeah," said Buffy with a weak smile. "Me, too."

"I mean, don't get me wrong," said Willow. "I-I completely understand why you and Faith have been doing the bonding thing. You guys work together. You...you should get along." But she didn't sound as if she understood it quite that well.

"It's more complicated than that," said Buffy.

Willow looked hurt and frustrated. "But, see, it's that exact thing that-that's just ticking me off! It's this whole 'Slayers only' attitude. I mean, since when wouldn't I understand? You, you talk to me about everything. I-it's like, all of a sudden, I-I'm not cool enough for you because I can't kill things with my bare hands."

Buffy burst into tears and covered her mouth with a hand.

"Oh!" said Willow, looking aghast. "Oh, Buffy! Don't cry." She wrapped her arms around Buffy in a slightly awkward attempt to console her. "I'm sorry. I-I was too hard on you. Sometimes I unleash. I-I don't know my own strength. I-i-it's bad. I-I-I'm bad. I'm a bad, bad, bad person." She stopped speaking, looking stricken.

"Wil, I'm in trouble," said Buffy.

"You want to-to talk about it?" asked Willow, trying to look sympathetic rather than distressed. Buffy nodded, and Willow gestured at the bed. They both sat down on its edge, and Willow listened with a mixture of shock, disbelief, alarm, and horror as Buffy explained what had happened.

"And Faith acts like she doesn't even care. The way she talks, it's like she didn't even make a mistake."

"Do you think she's, like, i-in shock?"

Buffy sighed. "I don't know. And I think that detective knows more than he's saying. I think he knew that I was lying."

"You have to go to Giles, Buffy," said Willow. "He'll know what to do."

"But what if Faith finds out and tells the Council about Angel? How can I risk it?"

"Well, If Giles can hide stuff from a bunch of guys who probably graduated from Oxford, then what makes you think he can't hide this from one high school dropout who isn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer?"

Buffy looked at her, still uncertain.

"Buffy, Giles will protect you. He always protects you. You need to talk to him, and you can't let Faith scare you away from him."

[o]

Buffy walked into the library, feeling better after talking to Willow, but still not entirely convinced that this was a good idea. "Giles?" she called hesitantly.

The ex-Watcher stepped out of his office. "Buffy," he said.

"Uh...," she began, twisting her hands together uneasily. "I don't really know how to say this, so I'm-I'm just gonna say it. I can't keep something like this from you—" She broke off, panic and fear erupting within her as Faith stepped out of the office and stood next to Giles, her eyes on Buffy, her expression hard. "But, um…." Buffy struggled to come up with something else to say that would convince Faith that she hadn't been about to tell. "But I-I've been blowing off my classes," she invented feebly, fighting back tears. She hated this! "You know, in-in the sense of not attending. And, uh...."

"It's okay, Buffy. I told him," said Faith.

Buffy looked at her in surprise. "You told him?"

"I had to," said Faith, not meeting her eyes. "He had to know what you did."

"What I did?" Buffy repeated blankly. Then her meaning sank in and she recoiled in horror. "Giles, no," she said. "Tha-That's just not what happened."

"I don't want to hear it, Buffy," said Giles coldly.

"No!" said Buffy desperately, the threat of oncoming tears growing ever more insistent. "It—"

"I don't want to hear any more lies," he said, cutting her off mid-protest.

Buffy turned to Faith in horrified disbelief. "You can't be serious! Blackmail wasn't enough, so now you're setting me up?"

"Get in my office, now," ordered Giles. "Faith, I'll talk to you in the morning."

"Giles, please," said Buffy, the tears now making their way down her cheeks. "You have to—"

"Now!" he barked.

Buffy fell silent, feeling numb and cold. How had everything gone so wrong? She walked past Faith and Giles without a word. He believed Faith. After everything they'd been through together, he believed Faith over her. Believed that she was a killer. That she was even capable of something like that. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't.

"Um…sorry," she heard Faith say, then the sound of her combat boots against the floor as she left. A few seconds later, Giles joined her in the office.

"Giles, I didn't do this," she said imploringly. "I swear. The murder, i-it...it was—"

"Faith," he said grimly. "I know."

Buffy stared at him, feeling a small shoot of hope come to life in her frozen chest.

"She may have many talents, Buffy, but fortunately, lying is not one of them."

"Oh. Oh, God," said Buffy weakly. She sank, knees trembling slightly, into his desk chair. "I thought...." Overcome with relief, appreciation, and the remnants of horror from what she had believed he thought of her, she couldn't complete the sentence.

"I'm sorry," said Giles, and Buffy knew he meant it. "I needed her to think that I was on her side. I don't know how far she'll take this charade."

"Try far," said Buffy, thinking of everything Faith had said; what she'd threatened to say. "Like, all the way."

"You should have come to me right off," said Giles sternly.

"I know. Well, I, I wanted to," said Buffy earnestly.

"But Faith wouldn't hear of it?" he guessed.

"She threatened to turn Angel over to the Council if I told," she said, anger starting to eclipse her other emotions again. She shook her head to clear it. "But the deputy mayor—it wasn't all her fault, Giles. We both thought he was a vampire. I only realized it a second before."

[o]

Wesley walked into the library, intending to retrieve a book he thought he might have left there. It was a rather spooky place at night, he thought, then mentally berated himself for letting something so trivial get to him. It was quite a few times more inviting than the dungeons at headquarters, after all, and he'd had no trouble going down there day after day—but he still found himself hoping that Angel wouldn't mind starting those training sessions a little sooner than they'd discussed. And, really, there wasn't much sense in putting it off, was there? A vampire or demon seeking to attack him couldn't be expected to wait politely until he was ready to confront it.

Wesley found the book he'd left almost at once, as it was sitting alone on the counter. He picked it up and turned to go, but realized as he did so that voices were coming from the office. More specifically, the voices of Buffy and Mr. Giles. What were they doing here so late? Ignoring the small admonitory voice in the back of his mind that sternly pointed out that he was eavesdropping, he paused to listen.

What he heard was not at all to his taste. It seemed that Faith had been the culprit behind the death of Deputy Mayor Allan Finch—though, according to Buffy, that had been an accident. While this news alone was quite shocking enough to be going on with, what really caught Wesley's attention was that Faith had apparently threatened Angel in an attempt to ensure that Buffy would remain silent about the incident.

Wesley barely registered the next portion of the conversation taking place in the office, though the small part of him that was still listening whole-heartedly agreed with Mr. Giles in his decision not to involve the Council. To do so would be to bring them far too close to Angel, and that was not something Wesley was willing to risk, no matter what Faith had done.

Anger pulsed through him in hot, bubbling waves. To think that, after everything he had done for Angel—after everything Angel had been through, it could all come to nothing because of the selfishness of one unruly girl. She had fought at Angel's side, had she not? And she had certainly fought at Buffy's, for over half a year! How, therefore, could she be willing to go as far as destroying him, and probably her as well?

Within the office, Buffy and Mr. Giles were now talking of helping Faith; of getting her to claim responsibility for her actions. Wesley, however, did not feel like being so indulgent. He would much sooner lock her up and make her live in conditions like those Angel had been forced to endure in the bowels of Council headquarters than show her compassion and understanding. And then, perhaps, she wouldn't be so quick to threaten sending Angel back to that place.

Incensed as he was, though, Wesley was not foolish enough to imagine for a second that he would be able to accomplish this dark fantasy. Faith was a Slayer—an unbalanced Slayer, moreover—, while he was an inexperienced Watcher who had already proven that he was embarrassingly lacking the arena of physical combat. With that knowledge, Wesley was forced to the unpleasant conclusion that, unless by some highly unlikely stroke of luck, Faith was struck dumb and forgot how to write, the only logical route to take was the one Buffy and Mr. Giles were discussing. He walked forward until he stood in the doorway of the office.

"Forgive me," he said, "but I couldn't help overhearing." There was nothing pompous about his manner now. He was grave and purposeful. "I want to help, if I can."

They stared at him, Buffy looking somewhat glad to see him, Mr. Giles looking slightly skeptical and wary. "It is appreciated," he said, "but you're not exactly the most impartial person in this matter."

"Nor are either of you," Wesley countered.

"I'm sorry, Wes," said Buffy, and she meant it, "but I don't think what Faith needs right now is another authority figure."

"Well," he said, trying to recover from this rejection. "I'll see if I can't plant a few false telephone numbers for her in the event that she tries to contact the Council, then, shall I? I didn't go all the way to Romania to have the Kalderash anchor Angel's soul just so my admirable employers could throw him back in that dungeon."

"What?" said Giles sharply. "Anchored?"

"Angel won't be able to lose his soul again," said Buffy.

"How can you be certain?" he asked in concern.

"I'm, um, pretty certain," said Buffy, feeling the heat rising in her face. Wesley realized what she meant by that and blushed as well.

"I see," said Giles, both his tone and expression unreadable. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but decided to set it aside until after this business with Faith had been resolved.

Aaand, *more* canon-lifting. *head desk* *head desk* *head desk* Hopefully the scene with Wesley in the last third of the chapter made up for it. I particularly like the part when he's imagining locking Faith in a dungeon so that she can see what it was like for Angel. It feels like getting a glimpse of the sort of emotions that enabled him to chain Justine up in his closet for months. Bwaha.