Author: Alexandra Huxley
Email: alexandrahuxley@yahoo.com
Notes: This is the ninth and final (for now) fic in the "Spinning Wheels" series, and I wanted to take this opportunity to thank those of you who have provided support and encouragement throughout this whole process. First and foremost - Cynthia and Moe. It has been one thing to write a fic per week (or almost); it's another thing to have two people willing to stick to that schedule and beta on a weekly and often last minute basis, not to mention happily (or at least without complaint) participating in fairly regular talk-me-down sessions. Thanks to Mistress Ace, for constant encouragement and reminding me of Sam's role in Riley's life. And to Ace and/or Em, for the line in BMItL that inspired the title of this last story. Pamela also gets a special thanks for being the first person to mention that I had a series on my hands after "As You Weren't." I just wanted Riley back - a series had never occurred to me, so thank you. And finally, to everyone who gave me feedback over the course of this series - Chris M., especially, who has written to me after every story, without fail, but also to my regular responders Mandy, Remy, Pamela, Em, Sharon B., Kate, and Jess as well as everyone who took the time to send feedback (sorry not to mention you all by name, but you know who you are). Your words have been an incredible inspiration and have kept me going when it seemed I just couldn't write another word.

After getting Giles' assurances that the Willow threat was over, Riley called in to Vaughan. She said things seemed under control all around and that she had already called most of the squads back in. She had scheduled a debriefing for the next morning and told Riley she didn't want to see him before then.

"But, Colonel, I-"

"Take the damn day off, Riley. You earned it."

"Yes, ma'am."

He hung up the phone and went into the living room. To Kaplan, he said, "It's over."

"Yeah, I figured," she said, smiling.

"Does that mean I can go home now?" Clem asked.

"Me, too. I'd like to go home now," Anya said.

Riley nodded. He gestured to the door. "After-"

The door burst open and Buffy came running in. "Xander? Will-" She stopped abruptly when she saw Giles sitting in the chair. "Oh," she said, quietly, her hand at her mouth. "You're not." She crossed the distance between them and kneeled down, hugging him. "Anya said."

Giles hugged her back as best he could. Within seconds he was engulfed by Dawn's arms, too. "Buffy. Dawn," he said, his voice muffled. "Air, please."

They pulled back, laughing and crying at the same time. Buffy gave him one more quick hug before saying, "It was Xander, wasn't it? Xander stopped her."

Giles nodded.

Buffy wiped away her tears as she stood. She turned and hugged Anya first; Clem next. "You are so lucky that Dawn is o.k."

Clem shrugged and gave her a nervous smile.

Buffy bent down to Kaplan, who was sitting on the edge of the couch, and hugged her, too. "I don't have any idea who you are, but thank you for whatever you did."

Buffy turned to Riley, touching her hand to an ugly scratch on his forehead. "Rough night?"

Riley smiled. "Had worse."

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around him. "Please tell me you don't have to go anywhere right now. Can you stay? For a little while at least?"

He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "No place I'd rather be."

Buffy reluctantly pulled away from him. "Has anyone talked to Xander or Willow? I should go find them."

"Buffy," Giles said, "I think Xander will call when Willow's ready. This may take some time."

"But-"

"I know. But Willow needs time, as do we all. The best thing to do right now is get some rest."

Buffy looked down. "You're saying she doesn't want to see me."

Giles put his hand out to her. "I think she'd rather not see any of us. Wait until Xander calls; I'm sure we'll hear from him soon. In the meantime, I don't suppose you have any of that tea I sent you for Christmas?"

Buffy started for the kitchen but Dawn held out her hand and said, "I'll get it. Anyone else? Anything?"

Kaplan stood up, "Thank you, but I think we should be going." To Riley she said, "I can take the others home if you'd like. Well, if I can take your car. You have anything you want out of it?" After Riley nodded, she murmured, "I still think you should see a doctor."

"You're kidding, right?" came Graham's voice from the doorway. "Nice try, but he only sees a doctor when he's unconscious. Because that's the only time he doesn't have a choice."

"What are you doing here?" Riley asked. He'd had his back to the doorway and hadn't noticed Graham come in.

"He drove us home," Buffy said. "I was actually happy to see him." She smiled at Graham and got a smirk in return. "He has the day off. I told him he should stay here."

Riley looked at Buffy. "You did?"

She shrugged. "Does that earn me a kiss?" Before he could answer, she had leaned against him and pulled his head down. "I missed you," she said.

"Oh, gross," Dawn said as she came into the hall from the kitchen. "Is the world you're going to show me X-rated?" Dawn asked, spilling Giles' tea as she dodged Buffy.

Riley followed Kaplan outside and grabbed his things out of the car. One of the first things he had learned in Belize was to always have an overnight bag stashed somewhere, ready to go. Clean clothes, dry shoes, and a few other things that never failed to come in handy.

When Riley came back inside, he found Graham on his way up the stairs.

"They said I could crash in Dawn's room," Graham said, nodding towards the living room. "I figured I'd find my own way."

Riley looked in to see Buffy holding Dawn tightly as they sat on the couch. Giles had pulled his chair over to them and was leaning in, speaking quietly to Dawn as she cried. Clearly not a time for outsiders.

"I'll show you the way," Riley said. Once they were upstairs, he said, "O.k. Let's hear it."

"Hear what?" Graham asked.

"I don't know. Whatever disapproving thing you're about to say."

Graham shook his head. "Not today. I'm so fucking tired and sore right now that I really don't give a rat's ass about anything other than a soft, warm bed."

Riley laughed. "So eloquent." He turned to leave the room, but stopped when Graham spoke.

"I always liked her, Ri. Hated what she did to you." Graham held up his hand as Riley started to protest. "Fine. What you did to yourself. Whatever. But if you can make this work, then I'm all for it. Just don't screw it up." Graham closed the door in Riley's face.

Don't screw it up. Right. Thanks for the advice, Graham.

Riley took his backpack into the bathroom and put it on the floor. This was not going to be fun, but there was no excuse not to get on with it. The EMT had done a cursory job of cleaning and disinfecting, but Riley had been impatient and had insisted on the absolute minimum. Which of course meant that everything hurt that much more now. And the longer he waited, the worse it would get.

He hated this part, though. He hated looking in the mirror and seeing the scar. Sam always said it was a badge to be worn proudly - an indication of how far he had come. But Riley only saw it as a sign of how far he had fallen.

Just look in the damn mirror.

He was surprised to see that his face wasn't too bad. His jaw would probably turn black and blue, and there was an ugly scratch above his right eye, but other than that, not much.

Riley peeled off his shirt. That was another story. There was already a nasty bruise right above his hip, where he had taken the brunt of the punches. And a big, red mark on his chest where they had slammed him into the car. He turned so he could see his back - a bad scrape right below his shoulder where he had gone into the wall. And he must have connected with some broken glass because there was a bloody streak across his back where his skin looked almost shredded.

It should probably hurt a lot more, but he wasn't totally surprised that it didn't. He was still buzzed from the fighting. After a night like that he figured he still had a few hours before the crash.

"Wow. What does the other guy look like?"

Riley turned to see Buffy standing in the doorway. "Guys plural. Dusty. And, um, don't you knock?"

She came into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. "Door was open."

He shook his head. "Sorry. Guess I'm used to-"

"Sam?" she asked.

"Communal living. Most of the time we didn't even have doors."

"Blech."

"Tell me about it. How's Dawn?"

She shrugged. "Sad, tired, hurt. But she'll live." Buffy rummaged through the cabinet under the sink.

"What are you doing?" Riley asked.

She pulled out a huge bottle of disinfectant, bandages, towels, and a bag of cotton balls. "I used to have this boyfriend that had combat medical training. He went to Belize and all I got were these lousy supplies. They have come in handy, though. Sit," she said, pointing to the edge of the bathtub.

"Back first." It took her twenty minutes to clean the glass and gravel out of his back. "This is disgusting," she said. "See why I wanted a normal guy? Most dates don't require basic medical."

"Could you concentrate less on talking and more on being gentle?" Riley asked through clenched teeth. Pain was one thing; Slayer-strength industrious wound cleaning was another.

"Turn around," she said a few minutes later. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"I like having you as my nurse."

"Really? Even without the outfit?"

His grin widened. "The outfit's o.k., but without is better."

"Tsk, tsk. All in good time." She wet a washcloth and leaned down.

"I can do that one," Riley said as she cleaned the cut on his forehead.

"I know," she said, smiling. She took a step back. "Anywhere else?"

Riley shook his head and stood up. "I think I can manage from here," he said.

She caught his wrist. "Wait, there's more blood on your arm. Let me-" She stopped suddenly.

He looked down and saw that the blood from the bite had trailed down his arm. And instead of neat holes, there were two deep, jagged scratches.

"Got kind of heated, huh?" Buffy asked, quietly.

"Guess you could say that." He poured some disinfectant over the bite, swearing as it burned. He had forgotten to point that one out to the EMT so it hadn't even gotten a preliminary cleaning.

"Is there some story behind that? Like maybe it just looks like a bite but it was really a stab from a serving fork wielded by an evil chef?"

"No," he said, watching her carefully. "It's a bite. Not by choice."

She didn't respond right away, but instead backed up against the wall. "Would you tell me if it was?"

He sat back down on the edge of the tub. "That's not going to happen again. I know I don't deserve your trust, but I swear to you - it will never happen again."

"Then how did it? Happen, I mean," she said.

"You know, the usual - fight to the death, I got distracted, she bit me, I staked her. I can give you the color commentary if you'd like, but that's pretty much it."

"That's not exactly usual. You never got bit before. I mean, well.before."

It was Riley's turn to be quiet. He looked down at the floor. "They know me, Buffy. It's like a challenge to them. Even the ones that never saw me there can. I don't know. It's like they can sense it." He shook his head. "Maybe it's still there somewhere - the hunger for it. I don't feel it, but maybe they can smell it in my blood. Spike could probably-"

He looked up to find her standing right in front of him. She bent down and kissed him, resting her hands lightly on his shoulders. He could taste the tears on her lips.

"Buffy - you're. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"The scar. The one on your neck," she said, fingering it. "You got that before you left, didn't you?"

He nodded slowly. He wasn't sure where she was going with this, but couldn't imagine anyplace good.

"When?"

Someday he was going to have to tell her. And if she insisted, he wouldn't lie. But not right now. Unless she pushed it, not right now. "Could we just leave it at 'before'?"

He didn't expect the new rush of tears. Why was she the one crying? Maybe it was the concussion, but this made absolutely no sense to him. "Buffy?"

"I'm." She sank to the floor in front of him, her head in her hands, crying softly. "I'm so. I'm so sorry I didn't know. Xander was." she said, taking a deep breath and forcing the tears to stop. "I should've seen what was happening. I'm so sorry I didn't see."

"There were other things going on, Buffy," he said, careful to control his anger. She would think it was directed at her. She would be wrong. "You shouldn't have had to. I should never have-"

"No. It wasn't you," she said. "It was never you. You were always there for me."

He couldn't look at her. He couldn't listen to her take the blame for something that he had managed to fuck up pretty much on his own. "Could we just stop this?"

She looked up at him, surprised by the bitterness in his voice.

"Nothing about this will ever be your fault," he continued. "Everything you said that night was..." So true. Harsh, but true. "I used to blame Spike for bringing you there, for forcing it. Thought I was so close to stopping. That if only I could have told you on my own..." He shook his head. "Yeah, there were things I wish had been different, but there were so many other paths. So many better paths than the one I chose. *Every* path was better than the one I chose. Couldn't have come up with something worse if I tried."

Buffy wrapped her arms around his leg and rested her head on his thigh. "You could have tried to kill my friends. Like Angel did. Or Spike when he was. Before the chip. Or Willow, come to think of it. And me. So maybe not; it seemed like such a bad thing the first time around; now it's just a normal day at the office."

"You trying to make me feel better? 'Cause that's not going to do it."

"No, I guess not. That's just.sad." She pulled herself up so that her face was level with his. "Look - I'm not kidding myself. It took both of us to mess things up." She held up her hand as he started to protest. "I'm not sure where we should have ended up but it wasn't there. Maybe someday we'll figure it all out, but isn't it enough right now that we want to? Isn't that a good thing?"

"I guess it's a start," he said slowly.

"Because I really want to. I want to figure this out. Maybe even later tonight. But I'm tired of talking right now. I am so done with talking."

This was not even close to where he thought their discussion was going to end up. Light years away. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

She undid the button on his pants and pulled down the zipper. Reached behind him and turned on the shower, straightening up as she pulled her shirt over her head.

"I just spent the night getting beat up by my best friend and watching her do horrible things to - mostly - good people," she said, unhooking her bra. "That was when I wasn't fighting dirt monsters and climbing out of a grave for the second time this year." She pushed her pants down over her hips and stepped out of them. "And I spent the last half hour looking at the half-naked man in my bathroom and wishing that the reason he had no clothes on was because he wanted me as much as I wanted him."

She kneeled down and bent forward, kissing right above the waistband of his pants. "Did that hurt?" she asked when he flinched.

"I can manage," he said, grinning.

Buffy smiled and tugged at his pants, pulling them off him. She leaned down again, and kissed the inside of his knee. "Good. Because I'm so tired of being sad." She kissed him a few more times, working her way up his thigh. "I am so tired of everything being wrong." She wrapped her hand around him and brought him to her mouth.

"Jesus, Buffy," he said, leaning back and trying to brace himself against the slippery tile wall, the hot water spilling over his face and chest. Laughing as he fell backwards into the tub, and pulling her in on top of him.

"Didn't think that was going to work," he murmured into her mouth as he kissed her.

"Oh, this will work," she said, standing up and pulling the shower curtain shut. She reached out her hand to help him stand and pushed him back against the wall. She put her hands around his neck and moaned as he hiked her up against him. Lowering herself onto him slowly, she smiled as she watched his face. "You sure that doesn't hurt too much?"

"I'll.deal."

"What hurts? When I do this?" she asked, raising and then lowering herself back down.

"No," he gasped. "When. I. breathe."

"Should I stop?" She raised herself until he was no longer inside her.

"God, no," he said. His turn to smile and her turn to gasp as he pulled her back down, not very gently. "Pain's good. Lets you know you're alive."

"Oh, is that the secret?"

He cupped the back of her head and pulled her to him. "Buffy - stop talking."

"O.k."

Riley sat up slowly, wincing as the bandage on his back rubbed against the raw skin. Must have been what woke him up. That or the fact that everything hurt - his ribs, his jaw, his entire back. It wasn't quite as easy to manage the pain when you were asleep.

"Wanna go again?" Buffy asked, smiling. She inched over and started to put her arms around him but pulled back as he tensed.

"I didn't think I'd ever say this, but no. I don't think so."

Careful not to touch him anywhere else, she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. She rolled out of bed and quickly pulled on some clothes.

"Be right back," she said, returning a few minutes later with a glass of water and a bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol.

He swallowed a few down and gave her back the glass. "Thanks."

"Anything else?"

"Morphine?"

"Sorry. Fresh out."

"What time is it?" The light had completely changed and it was looking more like afternoon than midmorning.

"Four. Are you hungry?"

"No." Even the thought of food made him feel sick.

"I am. I'm going downstairs." She kissed him again and left him in her room, closing the door behind her. She turned to go downstairs, but stopped and turned around instead.

She could smell the stench of blood and death as soon as she opened the door to Willow's room. Funny how it was something she dealt with every day, but this time she couldn't bear it. She backed out quickly, her hand covering her mouth. Throwing up would do nothing to freshen things up.

The carpet would have to be pulled up and the window needed to be fixed. Buffy wondered if Willow would ever be able to step foot in this room again. In the first week after her mom died, Buffy had avoided the living room whenever possible. But after that it had been the only place where she could find comfort - lying on the couch, hugging the pillows to her chest, clinging to the faint scent of her mother's perfume. She had never quite managed to tackle her mother's bedroom; it was almost a relief to come back and see that Willow and Tara had taken it over.

Buffy wiped the tears from her eyes and closed the door. She couldn't be there anymore. Tara's death in her mother's room. Too much.

She went downstairs, peeking her head in the living room as she passed - Dawn was asleep on the couch and Giles in the chair. Buffy wandered into the kitchen and looked in the refrigerator. Nothing. Nothing even remotely appetizing. Not in the cabinets, either.

She checked the answering machine. There was a call from Xander, but Giles had picked it up before Xander said much. She grabbed the phone and took it out back, dialing Xander's number. The machine picked up. She almost didn't leave a message but finally said, "Hi. It's me. I'm just calling to-"

"Buffy?"

"Xander - are you o.k.?"

"A little sore. You?"

"Doing o.k." She paused. It was so hard to ask the question; so hard to acknowledge that it needed to be asked. "How is she?" Buffy finally said. She could practically hear Xander shrug.

"Sleeping. When she's not crying."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"I don't think so. Not now." He paused. "Buffy - she'll be o.k. We'll get her through this. Things are already looking up. We're not dead. We're not - right? Everyone's o.k.? I mean, except for. I mean nothing's changed since I talked to Giles?"

"All present and accounted for."

"Good. I thought so. You'd tell me, right?"

"Of course. You're always the first person I think of when horrible things happen."

"And that means so much to me."

"Xander."

"You still there?" Xander asked after she didn't continue. "Got some words of wisdom? Can always use words of wisdom."

No, definitely not wisdom, Buffy thought. Just confusion and bewilderment. Like, how could you do this to us, Willow? How could you let it get that far? But of course that just sounded petty and selfish when the words actually got as far the tip of her tongue. Instead she said, "We don't deserve you, Xander. You're so good to us."

"So, now you figure it out."

"I love you so much. Both of you," she said, because of course she still did. It was just going to be a little harder to show Willow that for a while. A little harder to feel it. Almost guiltily, Buffy added, "She knows that, right? You'll tell her?"

"I'll tell her. I promise. We'll call you later."

She shut off the phone and walked down the steps, heading over to the chairs. She sat down, stretching her legs out and lifting her face up to the sun. It felt so warm, so comforting. So nice to just be sitting out here in the peace and quiet, the only sound being the birds chirping and the crunch of potato chips.

Who was munching on potato chips?

She sat up straight and whirled around, causing Graham to jump back and drop the bag.

"Shit! Don't scare me like that!"

"Where did those come from?" Buffy asked. "How did you get those?"

Graham held out the bag. "I make it a point to never be without snacks if at all possible. I've also got Pop Tarts and chocolate chip cookies."

"The chocolate doesn't melt?"

"Oh, no. It totally does. But if you try really hard, you can pretend that they're just out of the oven."

She looked at him suspiciously. "Does that really work?"

"Not usually. It depends on how long it's been since you've seen civilization. Or how bad the night before was."

"You have any extra?"

Graham grinned. "I'll get the cookies; you get the milk."

"You're on," she said, jumping up. She ran inside and got the glasses and milk and was back outside in less than a minute.

"Finally!" she said when Graham reappeared another minute later, arms laden with cookies and chips.

"A little hungry?"

"*So* hungry. I don't think I've eaten since breakfast yesterday." She yanked open the bag and downed four cookies before offering some to Graham.

"Uh, no thanks. I'll stick with chips. You know - potato. It's a vegetable. It's good for you."

Buffy ate another cookie. "I can sort of see the just out of oven thing. They're all warm and melty. So is this how you guys eat when you're in the jungle?"

"The first few days. The good stuff's gone pretty quick."

"You don't eat bugs - do you?"

"Only dead ones."

"Ick."

"You concentrate on the crunch not the taste."

She narrowed her eyes. "Really?"

Graham smiled. He tore open a Pop Tart packet and gave her one. "So you were really dead, huh?"

She nodded.

"Well, welcome back."

"Thanks," she said, smiling.

"It must be weird."

"Yeah."

"O.k. Not a topic of discussion. I get it."

She shrugged. "It's not easy to talk about."

Graham nodded.

Buffy ate another cookie. "You're not going to take him away again, are you?"

Graham looked at her. "It's not my call."

"Whose is it?"

"A lot of people who don't give a shit about what I say. But after last night he'll probably be able to write his own ticket; for a little while at least."

"He did good, huh?" she asked. "He said he got a couple."

"Is that what he said? Yeah - more like six."

She sat up straight. "Six? By himself?"

"We were spread a little thin."

"You guys aren't on those super-drugs anymore, are you? Six is a lot. He shouldn't be doing that."

Graham shook his head and looked away, his whole demeanor changing. "Is that how it happened last time?"

"What do you mean?"

Graham paused before saying, "Don't ask that of him. If you love him even half as much as he loves you, just don't do it."

"I don't-"

"The thing is, he'd probably do it. Even after what happened, he'd probably do it again. If you asked him."

She looked down. "It's just because-"

"Because what? You love him? You're trying to protect him? He doesn't need that. He didn't then, and he really doesn't now."

"What - because you're his protector now? Is that why this is your business?"

"No, it's my business because for three months I watched some stranger tear his way through the jungle, picking fights he had no business winning. I was the one who had to pick his bloody body off the ground when whatever was driving him wasn't enough to keep him standing." Graham stood up and started pacing. "You know? I'm not exactly happy that he took on six vamps either, but it's his job. He's really good at it. And if that's what it takes to keep him out of the hell he was in, then that's good enough for me."

Buffy sat there in stunned silence. She looked down as she spoke. "I had no idea."

"No, I figured you didn't." Graham sat back down, leaning back in the chair and staring straight ahead. "I'm sorry. It really isn't my business. I just. I don't know if he could go through that again. I know I can't."

She didn't respond, just sat there eating cookies.

"Are you going to eat that whole bag?" Graham finally asked.

She shook her head and held it out to him. "Thank you."

Graham looked up. "For what? The cookies? Or for behaving completely inappropriately?"

She smiled at his not so good effort to apologize. "For keeping him alive. For giving us a second chance."

"Oh," Graham said, surprised that she hadn't torn his head off. "You're welcome."

They sat in silence again, but comfortably so. After a little while, Buffy turned to Graham and asked, "So do you have any good stories from last year? I'd like to hear about apocalypses that I had absolutely nothing to do with."

Graham laughed. "A few."

"Well, let's hear them," she said.

"Hmm. Well it had nothing to do with the world ending, but did he tell you how he got his scar?"

"Unh-uh." She took a drink of milk and settled back into her chair.

When Riley woke up again, it was dark. He couldn't figure out what had woken him up until he realized that Dawn was standing over him.

"You're not Buffy," she said.

"Not the last time I checked," he said, sitting up.

"Does that hurt?" Dawn asked, pointing at the bruise on his chest.

"Yes."

"What did you do last night?"

"Mostly got beat on by vampires. You?"

"Lots of stuff. Mostly not fun," Dawn said, as she shrugged and looked away. "Killed a monster, though." A small grin broke through. "Totally surprised Buffy with this cool rolling dive and then I cut the thing's head off."

Riley smiled. The tears were still there, but it was nice she had something to smile about. "That's great, Dawn."

"You think maybe she'll let me go patrolling now?"

"Probably not, but it's worth a shot. Could you, um, hand me that shirt?" He was not at all comfortable sitting here practically naked in Buffy's bed. This was precisely why he rarely spent the night here after Buffy moved back home. That and the time he ran into Mrs. Summers in the middle of the night when he had nothing on but a pair of boxers.

"Sure. So she didn't tell you? Buffy? That I killed the monster?" Dawn asked.

Riley pulled the shirt on over his head, easing it slowly past the bruises and bandages. "We haven't actually talked much."

"'Cause you were boinking?"

Riley's mouth dropped open and he felt a rush of heat as the blush covered his face. "No. *Sleeping*." Mostly. "Were you looking for Buffy?"

"Oh. Right. The police are here - they need to get into Willow and." Her voice caught. She took a few ragged breaths before continuing. "Willow's room. Something about a crime scene. And Xander called; he said he's bringing Willow over soon."

"Really?" Riley asked. She was so sad, and trying so hard not to show it. He wanted to reach out and hug her and just make it all go away. Not that this was going away anytime soon. And besides, that would just be way too weird without any pants on. Way too weird. "That's great. About Willow, I mean. I can talk to the police."

"O.k.," she said, standing up. "You probably want to get dressed. I'll go now." She paused and turned as she reached the door. "Riley?" she asked. "Do you think she'll be the same as she was last night? She was just so.harsh."

Riley had wondered about that. Buffy had brushed off his questions but he figured there was something more to it than just Buffy being tired.

He grabbed his jeans and made Dawn turn around as he put them on. If this was going to be a heart-to-heart, then he was going to be fully clothed. Plus it gave him some time to figure out how to answer the question. No matter what he said, there was no denying the fact that things were going to be rough for a while.

"I think Willow loves you very much," he finally said. "And whatever she said or did last night doesn't change that."

"So the answer is 'yes.' That she's still going to be all witchy." Dawn came back into the room and sat next to Riley on the edge of the bed. "But we love Tara, too. We're sad, too."

"Yeah. I know," Riley said, his heart breaking as he watched Dawn try to hide her tears. "But I think she's so sad and angry right now that she doesn't see that. And it's probably all so close to the surface that it's hard for her to control who she takes it out on." As he spoke, vivid images from those first few months away from Sunnydale came rushing back. Despite what Willow had done, he couldn't help but feel sympathy for her. He had done pretty much the same thing. Luckily for him, his violence was government sanctioned.

"Well, maybe she should try," Dawn muttered, looking away, furiously brushing the tears away. "It's kind of hard to feel sorry for her when she's being so mean."

"Graham could probably give you a little more insight on that one," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder, "but somehow it seems to turn out o.k. in the end."

"'Cause we Summers women are tough?" Dawn asked, a small smile breaking through the tears.

"Yeah," he said, pulling her in for a hug. "Something like that." He waited until her tears had subsided before saying, "So, the police?"

"Oh. Right," she said, jumping up and wiping tears away. "They're waiting downstairs."

Probably not very happily, Riley thought. But they could deal.

He would have preferred to have something a little more official looking, but black jeans and a gray shirt would have to do because his uniform was a lost cause. The black hid most of the blood, but it was torn in a few places, not to mention covered with dust and gravel - not exactly presentable. The pants would be o.k. after a washing but the shirt was going to have to be thrown out. The reason for the Kevlar vests was coming back to him.

Riley headed downstairs and, after making sure that the police were there because of Tara's death and not on some hunt for Willow, he led them upstairs. It occurred to him that he didn't really know for sure which one was Willow's room, but it had to be Mrs. Summers'. That was confirmed as soon as he opened the door. It was hard to mistake that smell for anything else.

It didn't take them too long to get the tape up. The crime scene team said the detectives would probably be back in the next day or so, but there had been a commotion at the police station the night before so everything was backed up. The technician assured Riley that the investigation was still a priority, though, and every effort would be made to track down the shooter.

Riley just nodded. He had a feeling the shooter was no longer a problem, based on the fact that Willow tore apart the police station to get to Jonathan and Andrew. They probably wouldn't have been on her hit list unless Warren was dead. Which reminded him that he needed to talk to Buffy about what had happened to said prisoners since he was now responsible for them. That was going to go over real well with Command.

But all that could wait until tomorrow, he thought, as he thanked the investigator and closed the front door.

Riley headed into the kitchen where Giles was slowly reaching for a glass from the cabinet. He sat down next to Dawn on one of the stools.

"Scotch?" Giles asked.

Riley shook his head. Probably not a good idea given the way he was feeling. And alcohol usually just made him feel worse. "Did you find Buffy?" he asked Dawn.

"I'm sure she's around somewhere. I didn't really look. What do you think about ordering pizza?"

"Not really that hungry."

"Dawn, why don't you decide what you want and go ahead and order it," Giles said. "I'm sure whatever you choose will be more than acceptable."

Dawn glared at Giles as she slid off the stool. "You could have just said you want me out of the room because you wanted to talk to Riley," she said. "I understand those kinds of things."

Giles smiled as she left the kitchen. "I keep forgetting how much she's grown. Even just in the last few months. Don't you think?"

"Everyone has. I hear it was quite a year."

Giles leaned back against the counter. "Yours as well?"

"It had its moments," Riley said cautiously.

"I expect it was quite a journey."

"Quite. Got to see a lot of places."

Giles folded his arms and smiled. "That's not what I meant."

"No, I didn't think so."

Riley waited for Giles to say something, but nothing else came. He was usually pretty good with this game, but it was different with Giles. This was more like getting in trouble with Dad after being caught spending the night at his girlfriend's house. Dad didn't care that she had been the one to invite Riley over, just said Riley should have known better. There hadn't been any yelling then, either. Just that quiet disapproval that was ten times worse.

"I know I screwed up," Riley said, looking down at his hands. "It won't happen again." Sir, he almost added.

"I would hope not," Giles said. "Especially considering that you're a married man now. You have your own family to take care of."

Yup. Thought there was going to be more to that subject than the nice pat on the shoulder. "I don't, actually."

"No?"

"Brought my wife to Sunnydale. She said I was still in love with Buffy and I'd be a fool to mess it up again. Told me to pack my bags."

Giles' expression didn't change. He still had a vague smile on his face. A vague smile tinged with disapproval. "Interesting woman."

"Yes, she is."

Giles looked away for a moment. "Buffy's still fragile. She's not the same girl you knew. I'm not sure if this is what she needs right now."

"Is that really your choice to make?" Riley asked.

"There are things she needs to learn for herself."

"I understand that, Giles. I really do," Riley said. "I know I may not be what she needs, or even what she wants, but until she tells me to go, I'm staying."

Giles' stare was unnerving, but Riley refused to look away.

"Even if she can't be who you want her to be?" Giles asked.

Who he wanted her to be. That was the question. A question he had spent a lot of time thinking about over the last year. Wondering what might have happened if there was no transport waiting to take him away. If she had somehow forgiven him and taken him back. Would that have been enough?

Could he have managed with the knowledge that she could never love him the way he loved her? Would never open up her heart and soul to him because her heart belonged to Angel and her soul belonged to.everyone. To the whole damn world. And no matter how much he tried to be what she wanted, no matter how many hoops he tried to leap through. No matter how much or how many, it would never be enough because what she wanted was something she could never have. It wasn't humanly possible to give her what she wanted because what she wanted wasn't human.

Quite a question.

But he had finally found his answer. Found it in the middle of the rainforest with his clothes sticking to his back and the water dripping down his neck, rifle cocked in his hands. Found it on the edge of a desert, his face touched by sand as old as time. Found it on the top of an ice-capped mountain, higher than he ever thought he'd be.

Somewhere along the way, he realized that he had become whole again. That the emptiness in his heart wasn't because of what she couldn't give, it was because of what he had lost within himself. Strength and courage and honor and peace. Not what she had taken; what he had let slip away.

Turned out he had been asking the wrong question. The question was never who he wanted her to be. It went much deeper than that. The question was: who was he?

Not that that was an easy question, either. And not one that could be answered in a year. But it made everything else a lot clearer. It made him realize that if by some freak twist of fate he was ever given a second chance he wasn't going to waste it wondering if he was enough for her. He wasn't going to wonder, period. He was going to show her. Show her rainforests and deserts and mountains. Show her prairies and cornfields. Show her heaven on Earth underneath an Iowa sky.

And maybe he'd never stir her soul, maybe he'd never set her blood on fire. But he could win her heart. Because the heart didn't belong to the vampire world - the heart was human. Warm and pulsing and full of love. The life he could give her. If he got a second chance.

"I'm not leaving her again. And if she lets me, I promise you I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make her happy. Anything else is between her and me."

After what seemed like forever, Giles nodded and smiled. Another test? Riley wasn't quite sure if he had passed this one, but Giles must have decided that it was enough, because he started asking Riley about Belize and the Army. They were in the midst of a discussion about the right amount of firepower to use against Tamor demons, when they heard voices and footsteps on the back deck. The door opened and Buffy and Graham walked in, laughing and carrying empty bags of various types of junk food.

"So you guys finally woke up," Buffy said. She smiled at the look on Riley's face. "Graham's been telling me stories."

"Really," Riley said, stunned. "How long were you out there?"

Buffy looked at the clock. "A couple of hours."

"Close your mouth, Ri," Graham said. "We can be civilized adults."

"No," Buffy said. "Don't close it." She came over and kissed him in a way that she usually didn't do in public.

Riley pulled back and saw a twinkle in her eye. She was putting on a show, not that Riley minded. Maybe she got in trouble, too - Riley wouldn't put it past Graham to make his opinions known. He certainly hadn't held back at any point over the past year.

She turned to Giles. "So do we have a plan? Did Xander call back?"

"Xander's coming with Willow," Dawn said, coming back into the room. "Not bad," she mouthed at Riley.

"Eavesdropping?" he asked.

She was saved from answering by the sound of the front door opening and Anya's voice saying, "She's not an invalid Xander. She can walk into the house on her own."

"I know that, Anya," came the terse reply. "I'm just trying to be polite. I realize that's not a concern for vengeance demons but we humans try it out every once in a while."

Xander appeared in the doorway, followed closely by an irritated Anya and a hesitant Willow. "Did anybody think about dinner?" Xander asked. "I'm really hungry."

"Pizza's on its way," Dawn said, grabbing a stack of dishes and handing them to Xander. "Here. Be useful."

Xander put them on the counter and sat down on the stool. "I was very useful this morning. I find that it's tiring. Someone else can do it."

Anya picked up the stack of dishes and shoved it against his chest. "Set the table, Xander. You may have saved the world, but everyone else was busy, too." She grabbed a bunch of napkins and followed him into the dining room.

As their bickering faded into the background, Willow said, "Who would've thought that trying to end the world might have brought them back together?"

"I know you were worried about them," Buffy said, "but maybe next time you could be a little less dramatic?" She took an unsure step towards Willow.

Willow nodded and closed her eyes as tears spilled over. She was immediately enclosed in Buffy's and Dawn's arms and led into the living room.

Riley looked at Graham. "We should probably go."

"No," Giles said. "We'll need to know the full extent of the damage. We're going to have to talk about what happens next. You should be here." He followed the others into the living room.

Graham said to Riley, "Your call."

Not a hard one to make.

By the time the pizza came, they had managed half an hour of almost normal conversation. The tension was still there, but for now everyone seemed willing to do whatever was necessary to just get through the night. Taking it one step at a time.

It wasn't until after dinner, when the talk turned to the ramifications of the previous night, that Willow's tears came. Mostly silent tears just streaming down her face. Buffy grabbed Willow's hand and Xander put his arm around her.

"Are you sure they should be here?" Anya asked, gesturing at Riley and Graham. "Aren't they obligated to tell someone whatever they hear?"

"It doesn't work that way, Anya," Riley said. "We're not the police. They barely even know we exist. But we don't need to be here if it makes anyone-"

"Riley stays," Willow said. "Graham can, too."

"It seems Spike should be here, too," Giles said.

"Spike's gone," Buffy said sharply.

"Good riddance," Xander muttered.

"Don't," Buffy warned.

"Could we get on with this?" Willow asked.

Everyone looked at Giles. "Well, Riley - what did the police say?"

"The police were here?" Buffy asked. "When?"

"Earlier this evening. Putting up yellow tape. Taking samples." Riley turned to Willow. "They said detectives would come tomorrow or the next day. 'Identifying the shooter is a priority.' They'll most likely want to question you."

"About Warren?" Xander asked.

Riley nodded, forcing himself to look away from Willow. From the look that had just flashed in her eyes - haunted and lost and icy cold.

Buffy said. "Will they ask what's happened to him?"

Riley shrugged. "Probably not. They probably won't make any connection with. where he is now." Which several people in this room clearly knew, Riley thought as he saw three heads go down. Not Willow's though; she met his gaze with a hard stare.

"But you should still have a lawyer," Graham said to Willow. He had seen the reaction, too. And he remembered enough from Riley's explanation to know that Warren was the one she was after. "We can recommend someone who's dealt with this kind of thing before. She's really good; and the police here aren't that smart. So you should be o.k."

"You mean I'll get off?" Willow spat out as she abruptly pulled away from Buffy and Xander. "I won't go to jail? Isn't that where I belong?" She turned to Riley, her voice bitter. "What would you do with someone like me? Is there some secret prison somewhere where they strip away the magic? Make me into what I was before?"

Riley glanced at Graham before answering. "Actually, we'd probably hire you. Maybe even give you a medal."

"This isn't something to joke about," Buffy said.

Graham responded, "He's not joking."

Buffy sat back in her chair. "Oh. That's kind of, well, disturbing."

"Your tax dollars at work," Riley mumbled. That wasn't what was disturbing him right now. Willow was. Not just what she was saying or how she was saying it - that was to be expected. But he kept coming back to her eyes. The grief and the pain and the anger and hate. No interest in her own salvation because she had no interest in being saved. Something he remembered all too well.

"Moving on," Giles said. He looked at Riley. "Did your injuries have anything to do with Willow?"

Graham answered, "Yes."

Willow leaned forward with her head in her hands, tears flowing again. "Oh, God."

Riley glared at Graham. He recognized what Graham was doing, but Willow didn't need that. She didn't need it thrown in her face. Not right now. "It's unclear," Riley said. "There was some kind of convergence on Sunnydale, but it may not have had anything to do with anything else that was going on."

"Thanks, Riley," Willow said, head back up again and tears fading. "I appreciate the effort, but don't bother." The coldness of her voice was in direct contrast to her words. She sat back in her chair and looked at Graham, the only person in the room who didn't seem to care about protecting her feelings. The only person she seemed to be responding to. "What happened?"

"Vampires. Demons. Taking advantage of the diversion."

"Was anyone else.?" Willow asked quietly.

"A couple of minor injuries," Graham said. "Nothing unusual by Sunnydale standards."

"That's not unusual?" Dawn said, looking at the gash on Riley's forehead. "I don't remember you coming back with bruises like the one on. Like the one you have."

"Well, maybe that's a little bit worse than normal," Graham said, "but don't cry for him. He's probably getting a promotion out of this."

"A promotion?" Buffy asked. "For killing six vampires? And I don't even get paid. There is something so wrong with this picture."

Graham shook his head. "Total kill count was forty-two vamps, twenty-three demons between the town, the graveyards, and the woods - and that doesn't count the ones that got scared away. If things had gone according to Command's original orders, the demons would have taken over Sunnydale, we probably would have lost a lot of men going after Willow, and Willow would have the U.S. Army tracking her down right now. I think that's worth a promotion - don't you?"

Everyone turned to look at Riley, who looked away, clearly uncomfortable.

"Xander and Riley - saving the day," Xander said. "Thank you, Willow, for allowing us to get our manhood back from you girls."

"You're liking yourself very much right now," Anya said. "Be quiet."

"Yes, ma'am," Xander said, grinning as he caught the smile on Anya's face as she turned away.

"Did you know that would happen?" Buffy asked Giles. "The demons?"

"It makes sense. I didn't know for sure, but I'm not surprised."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"There wasn't much time, for one thing. I didn't think there was anything you could do about it, for another." He looked at Buffy pointedly. "Now, perhaps if you had told me that Riley was not only alive but back here in Sunnydale, I might have mentioned it."

"Does anyone want more Coke?" Dawn asked quickly, before Buffy could say whatever it was that she was about to say in response.

"I'll get it," Riley said, standing up. Everything was starting to hurt again, plus he was getting a headache. Graham was talking more than enough for the both of them and Riley wanted some fresh air.

That was one of the good things about the Army - there wasn't much of an opportunity to think. You kill, you conquer, you don't have to worry about the consequences. You accepted that or you resigned your commission. Or you got court-martialed, but that was another story.

He walked into the kitchen, turning around when he realized there was someone behind him. Dawn.

"I actually wanted more Coke; you just wanted to get out of there."

"Was it that obvious?"

"I don't think so, but I didn't feel like waiting for you to do whatever it is you were going to do. I'm thirsty." She grabbed two cans of Coke from the fridge, offering him one.

"Thanks."

"Take the phone with you," she said, pushing him out the back door. "I'll tell them you had to talk to somebody."

"It's really o.k." he said, putting the phone back on its hook.

"No, it's not. You have a really weird look on your face. Is it because of the Spike stuff? I don't think you need to worry about that."

"Dawn."

"Well, whatever it is, get over it and come back inside."

Yeah, whatever it is. Get over it. Not quite that easy.

Riley opened the door and went out on the deck, leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars. After seeing so much death over the past year, it seemed that it should be easier to deal with; that he should have come up with some way to handle it better. But it was always worse than he remembered. And those were all soldiers. Those were all men and women who did their job every day knowing and accepting what the ultimate sacrifice could be. This was different. This was Tara. Sweet, shy, innocent Tara. Wrong place, wrong time. Horribly, tragically wrong.

And it shouldn't be such a beautiful night, this night that would be so hard for so many people. Warm breeze, clear skies. Made no sense when there was so much anger and so much hurt. It seemed impossible that it was all because of love.

But he understood. And as much as he empathized with Buffy and Dawn and Giles and Xander, he ached for Willow. For what she had yet to go through.

Because it wasn't the first night that was the worst - most people assumed that, but it barely counted. Even if Willow hadn't gone off on some rampage and this was just your run-of-the-mill devastating grief, the first night was nothing. The first night was when you were still in shock. In total denial. Not really believing that your whole world had just changed. Somehow, it seemed, that when you woke up everything would be right again.

The second night, though - that was the killer. That was when you realized you really were alone. That nothing would ever be the same again. That no matter what you did, you could never take back what had happened, and you'd have to live with it for the rest of your life. Unless, of course, you decided you didn't want to. Live, that is.

Not that this was the same - not entirely. Riley hadn't actually lost the woman he loved - not to death at least. Just to some stupid, idiotic, ridiculous mistake. One he could never take back. And no matter how much they seemed to be dealing with it for the time being, it would always be there. With reminders that were impossible to ignore.

Sometimes Riley wondered what would have happened if he hadn't left. If he had been there to see her fall. Would it have been better somehow because she did it to save the world? Would that have made it easier to live with? Or would it have just been one more reminder that he was too weak, too helpless. That he would never be enough of a man for her. That he couldn't keep her safe. That he would never be able to.

But he had been given a reprieve. By some harsh twist of fate, he had escaped. That part at least. Escape. Not exactly an accurate description. More like, good-bye frying pan, hello fire. Confronting his own demons, seeing his own death; caring so little about his own life that it was just another thing to throw away.

He could see it, all of it - the despair, hatred and loathing emanating from Willow's soul. Despising a world that made no sense; disgusted by the futility of those around you. A revulsion so strong that it dwarfed everything else; everything except the contempt for the weakness you felt deep within you. He could feel the grief washing over him, the pain he had felt every day for those first few months coming back in a rush. Emptiness and loss. Crushing him. Suffocating him to the point where it hurt to just be. Desperately trying to find the strength to fight the wracking sobs that were always one breath away. Reliving every moment; every wrong turn. Killing his way out of the darkness, one demon at a time.

It was written all over Willow's face. He could see it so clearly; could feel it with each pained breath she took. And he knew he wasn't just imagining it, because Graham saw it, too. Riley had no doubt - the way Graham was handling this was the same way he had dealt with Riley - making Riley understand the consequences, forcing him to see the new reality, laying it all out on the table because it was the only way to make it to the other side.

The only way, maybe, but it was a brutal road. It seemed like the hardest thing in the world to be going through it, except maybe when you watched it happen to someone else. Ice cream and chocolate weren't going to make this better. There would be anger and hate and lashing out at everyone who gave a damn about you. And nightmares to remind you that you'd find no escape when you closed your eyes.

Maybe it wasn't the only way. Maybe there was another way, but Riley certainly hadn't found it.

"Was it something we said?" Buffy asked as she closed the door behind her and came out onto the deck.

"What?"

"You left kind of abruptly."

"Yeah, I guess I did. Sorry."

She waited for an explanation, but when she got none, she said, "Congratulations."

"For what?"

"Your promotion. For saving Sunnydale. For being the hero."

Riley laughed harshly. "Yeah, right. Total luck. I found someone to give me an excuse for not sending eighty men after Willow. So that she could kill a man and have one more thing to eat away at her for the rest of her life."

"The way Graham was talking it could have been a lot worse."

"I guess." This was not something he wanted to talk about. It seemed really wrong to get a promotion out of something that caused nothing but misery. "Not that Graham wasn't talking out of his ass - he does that sometimes."

"I noticed."

"So she really killed him?" Riley asked after a few minutes.

"Do you really want me to tell you? Couldn't it get you in trouble?"

"Maybe. Probably. So, no, I guess not."

Buffy nodded and hiked herself up onto the railing. "It's so quiet out here," Buffy said. "You think other people are happy? That they're sitting on their porches, swinging on their swings, and not knowing that everything's falling apart around them? I wonder what it would be like to be one of those people." She grabbed Riley's hand and leaned her head on his shoulder. "She's not going to be the same again, is she?"

Riley's voice caught. "Probably not."

Buffy looked at Riley and said, "Thank you for loving my friends so much."

He turned to her. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head. "It's. This could have been so much more devastating."

Riley shrugged. "It's Willow. That part wasn't hard."

"That's what I mean." She looked at him closely and reached up to wipe a tear from his cheek. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

He tried to look away but she grabbed his chin and pulled him back to her. "It's o.k., you know," she said.

"You telling me it's o.k. to cry. That's a good one," he muttered. He pulled away from Buffy and walked into the yard.

She followed him to the chairs and sat down on the footrest across from him. "I don't understand. What is this about?"

Good question. Excellent fucking question. "It's about. I don't know. It's about the fact that life just sucks sometimes and there's nothing you can do about it. Or that sometimes you're the one who makes everyone else's life suck."

"You didn't."

"No. Not that." He shook his head. "It's Tara. And Willow. And your Mom. Even Jonathan. Good people getting caught up in horrible things. And that you do everything you know how to make the world a better place and it's just not enough. You can't stop people from hurting. It's never enough."

She sat back. She had never seen him like this. "It's not your job to save everyone," she said.

"Oh, right - sorry," he snapped. "That's the Slayer's job."

"Hey," she said, sharply. "Things are already too weird. Bad Willow seems to have hijacked my best friend again; Giles and Graham are talking about lawyers; Xander and Anya have, well, I swear I saw them actually smile at each other; and Dawn is taking it all in without pulling any hissy fits which means that absolutely nothing in this world is making sense right now. I don't think I can handle it if you wig out on me, too."

He looked at her. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. That was totally uncalled for."

"Completely totally."

Riley leaned forward. "It just. It brings everything back. All the bad stuff." He took her hand. "Remember how it used to be so simple? How everything just worked? Going out and fighting bad guys. Side by side with the woman I love. It should have been so easy. It *was* so easy. So right. In my whole life I've never been as happy as I was that summer with you. Do you think that's really possible? To be truly happy?"

"I didn't." She could feel her eyes welling up. She couldn't do this. Not if he didn't believe it. He needed to - that was what had always kept her going. Even after he left, his words were the only things that gave her hope that life could be like that. Could be something good.

"Not until you showed me," she said, desperately trying not to cry. Trying to give him the comfort he needed. Something she had failed miserably at so many times before. "Some ridiculous thing you said about not doing it alone."

He smiled sadly. "Right. Worked out pretty well, didn't it? Good thing you trusted me." He let go of her hand. "God, I am so. So damn sorry. I wish I could go back. Just figure out the moment it changed. Just erase it and put everything back the way it was. Maybe it would have made things right."

"No," she said, losing the battle as the tears streamed down her face. "It was a pretty good moment; it just got handled badly."

"Really," he said. "And you can name the exact moment."

She nodded. It hadn't been too hard to figure out once she started thinking about it.

"O.k. Try me," Riley said.

She leaned her head back and looked up at the stars, somewhere far, far away. It had been quite a shock, that moment. When everything became clear. When she saw everything for the first time. Angel's fault, really. Faith's too. Buffy had always found it ironic that her first love and Riley's first betrayal had made her see it.

And it was doubly ironic that after seeing it, it was so overwhelming that she was so afraid to lose it. So afraid that she built herself a box and climbed right in. Closing it up tight every time Riley did something else that touched her heart. Every time he bought her ice cream or grabbed a book from the top shelf for Willow or laughed at one of Xander's jokes. And every time he stowed the stake in the back of his waistband or grabbed the taser as he went out the door.

Because every single thing Riley did, every time she could feel her chest swell with contentment and warmth - every moment of unbridled happiness was followed by an icy, cold despair that told her with the greatest certainty that she would lose him, too.

That moment was when she stepped off the path. The first moment where things started to go wrong. If she had only told Riley what she knew to be true.

But there were other moments, too; other things that she could have done differently, and still managed to have held on. Like maybe if she had told Giles about the dreams - the ones she had been so grateful to say good-bye to when September rolled around and they finally went away; maybe Giles could have figured out their true meaning. Or maybe if she had told Riley what she saw at night - vampires surrounding him and drinking from him and stealing him away from her as she stood there watching. Maybe if she had told Riley then it wouldn't have happened.

Instead she tried to protect him, foolishly thinking she could outwit the fates. She vowed not to let him die in her arms atop some nameless grave, victim of some vampire's lucky day. She tried to lock him up in that box with her, keeping him safe and close so that he could never leave. Stripping him of his joy and spirit because she couldn't bear to watch another man she loved slip away.

Angel's fault. And Faith's. In one, clear moment.

The moment when she was overcome with rage at Faith for stealing something she hadn't realized was quite so precious. The moment when she wanted to hurt Angel so badly, telling him she had a new love. The moment when she realized that it was true. That she needed Riley in her life. Wanted him. Yearned and ached and pined for him.

That moment when she realized that her wish wasn't for death; it was for life. For the life he could offer her. The life Angel had wanted for her. A life she thought she could never have. A moment of clarity and truth - so much to live for. But also so much to lose. So much that it was too painful to think about; it was easier to shut down.

And so many things danced in and out of their lives, clouding the truth. Making her think that the danger had passed. Weaving a shimmering veil of daydreams and fairy tales. Birthing a sleek, proud, arrogant hunter who thought she could protect those she loved by locking them away.

But dreams do come true. Shadows can't be conquered. Gods aren't always good.

And love is defined by the darkness left behind when it's gone.

"It was when I fell in love with you," she said. "That was the moment."

He was silent for a minute. Everything had become very quiet. A cricket skittered across the arm of the chair, bounding away again, an arcing leap never ending as its blackness faded into the night. A soft breeze swept through blades of grass, rippling through newly born leaves that rustled in protest. A cluster of stars so young and bright dared to sparkle in a sky so black.

He sat back in the chair, letting her hand slip away from his knee. Looking at her, her eyes shimmering with tears, so beautiful. So clear.

"If that moment happens again?" he asked, a slow smile coming over his face. "Mention it."

A sob caught in her throat, entangled with laughter escaping from the heart that was only starting to know warmth again. She grabbed on to his outstretched hand and let him pull her into his lap, her tears spilling over as he hugged her tightly.

"Riley?" she said into his chest.

"Yeah?"

She looked up at him. "It already happened."

He looked away. It was almost too much. Too many emotions threatening to spill over in a very unmanly way.

"I-"

He put his finger to her lips. "Tell me again later," he said, his voice breaking. "This is good for now. This is all I need."

"All?" she asked, looking up at him, their lips almost touching.

Maybe not all. He put his hand in her hair and pulled her to him. A kiss so sweet, so slow. So right.

"I thought I lost you forever," she whispered.

She kissed him again, losing herself in everything that was familiar. The taste of him, feel of him; the man she knew better than anyone on earth. And the man she barely knew at all.

She pulled away and leaned her head against his chest, settling into his arms.

"When my Mom died, someone said maybe we should sell the house. That maybe there were too many bad memories. I thought about it for, like, ten minutes. Because it's not just a house. It's not just the walls or the beams or even the paint that's peeling off the wall. It's everything. It's where I'm supposed to be." She looked up at him. "It's home."

Home. Where she was supposed to be. Where they belonged. He smiled into her eyes. "There's no place like it."

The End

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