Riley was the second to return, but the first to know that something was wrong.
Unlike Buffy, Riley gave Giles some warning. The day after Buffy's decision to stay on, Riley called on the secure line. This kind of call wasn't exactly rare; Riley and Giles did the best they could to share any information that might be helpful with each other, within the limits allowed by their organizations. Still, based on the demands on both of them, taking the time to call just about always meant it was something important.
After the usual pleasantries, Riley was the first one to get down to business. "I'm sorry to cut this short, Giles, but I don't have a lot of time today. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be coming by in about a week. And probably staying nearby for a while after that."
After a brief pause, Giles responded, cautiously choosing his words. The two men had done this often enough that Giles knew not to ask for information directly without first being fairly certain that Riley would be able to answer. "Riley, you are always welcome here, as you well know. However, I confess to being a tad...um...concerned."
In his best whiny little boy voice, Riley said, "But Giles, I promise I'll be a good boy! I won't break anything, and I'll eat my vegetables and everything."
"Of that I have no doubt," Giles said with a chuckle, but his tone immediately grew serious. A sarcastic response from Riley usually meant the situation was safe to discuss. "No, it's not you that concerns me, so much as what kind of situation would prompt your government to send you over here for an extended stay."
"And how do you know I'm not just taking a little R 'n' R?" Riley replied, trying to keep the conversation's tone light. Unfortunately for Riley, Giles was not going to allow himself to be distracted by friendly banter.
"Well, to my knowledge, you haven't been on holiday since you rejoined the military," Giles replied. The "after leaving Buffy" remained unsaid, but it was understood by both men. "Combined with the fact that you haven't stopped by once since your original visit, the likelihood that this would be a purely social call is, frankly, very low."
Riley's only response was a sigh. After giving him a few more seconds to answer, Giles pressed on. "Taking your lack of response as an acknowledgment, is there anything you can tell me before your arrival?"
"As I'm sure you might have guessed, not really." Following Giles' predictable snort, Riley continued, sounding suddenly more tired than Giles had heard him in quite some time. Since Los Angeles, in fact. "It's not state secrets, or anything like that. Something's going on, Giles. I don't know what it is, but I'm seeing a lot of things cross my desk that don't make sense. I really need to sit down with you and your team, pool our resources, and see if we can figure this out."
"And you think this 'something' that is going on is significant enough that you'd need to not only come over here personally, but also stay for an extended period of time?" Giles couldn't help but sound a bit incredulous. He knew Riley wasn't telling him much, but what he was telling him didn't seem to explain his visit. "Is there any particular reason why we couldn't address this situation via phone, as we have in the past?"
"Yes."
Riley's curt response, combined with his suddenly cold tone, let Giles know that further inquiry on his part would lead nowhere. There was obviously something deeper going on that Riley wasn't free to discuss, even on a secure line. Better to steer the conversation back to safe ground, and not press the matter further.
"Well, in that case, we had better see what we can do for lodging for you. I'm sure we can come up with something suitable..."
Riley interrupted, his tone back to normal. "Giles, I can't ask you to do that. You need all the room you have, I'm sure. I'll just get something in town..."
"Nonsense! If you are coming over to pool resources, as you say, you can most effectively do that if you are closer to said resources," Giles reasoned. "Besides, what's the point of having multiple housing options at your disposal if you don't put them to good use?"
Riley couldn't argue the point, but he had other concerns. "Well, I have some specific needs I'm not sure you can meet."
Giles waited for the specifics, but found he had to draw them out. "There is no way for me to know whether or not we can meet your needs if you don't tell me what they are, Riley."
"Oh, right, sorry," Riley replied. It was clear he had been lost in thought for a few minutes there. "First of all, I need a secure place to report back to my superiors. They're giving me a lot of latitude on this, but I still need to keep them in the loop. And no," Riley continued, anticipating Giles' reply, "I can't just use the secure line in your office. I'll need to be in a separate building, and you'll have to let some of my people come over and sweep the place before I can use it. I can't ask you to..."
This time Giles interrupted. "Riley, if this situation is as serious as you obviously suspect, I would be setting a bad precedent by getting overly territorial. Not to mention violating Rules 2 and 3."
"Rules 2 and 3? What're those?" Riley queried.
"Hmm? Oh, sorry, I thought I'd told you about The Rules. Xander and Willow came up with a list of basic rules for our group during our bus trip to Boston."
Riley smirked at Giles' phrasing. Only Giles could make the evacuation of the Sunnydale survivors and their subsequent trek across the country sound like a field trip.
As the thought passed through Riley's mind, Giles continued. "The two of them solicited ideas for The Rules from everyone on the bus, which resulted in their being generally accepted. We never formally adopted them for the Watcher's Association, probably because it would have been redundant. We all refer to them from time to time to be sure we aren't losing our way."
Riley was a bit surprised to hear this detail of life on the bus, not to mention of the inner workings of the Watchers' Association. No one had told him much about what went on during the trek, and he hadn't pressed. He decided Giles' willingness to share this with him was a good sign, and hoped he could get the logical follow-up questions answered. "So, what's Rule 2?"
"'Take every helping hand offered, as long as you trust the body attached to the hand.'"
"Sound advice. And Rule 3?"
"'Never take any action you know will make things harder in the long run, even if it is easier in the short run.'"
"Also sound advice." Riley suspected he knew the answer to his next question, but decided to ask anyway, just to be sure. "And what about Rule Number 1?"
"Don't die."
Giles and Riley both remained silent for a few moments, remembering their compatriots who had failed to follow Rule Number 1. For both men, there were far too many.
It was Giles who broke the silence. "Well, we can go over the other Rules after you arrive. As it happens, we just recently refurbished the old gardener's quarters. It's somewhat set off from the other residents, and I haven't assigned anyone to it yet. I would have no objection to your team doing a magical and mundane sweep of the house prior to your arrival."
"'House?' Giles, I don't need a whole house to myself, really," Riley protested. "I'd feel guilty about taking up all that room."
Giles chuckled again. "I was using 'house' rather loosely, I'm afraid. As I said before, this used to be the gardener's quarters. Originally, it was just a small kitchenette and sitting area, with one bedroom and a bath, that were added onto the back of the tool shed. We've connected the tool shed to the rooms in the back, and turned the shed into an office of sorts. We've also taken down most of the wall between the sitting area and the attached greenhouse, which we've winterized and turned into what Andrew insists on calling a Florida room. It's pleasant, but 'compact' would probably be the best word for it."
"Well, if you insist, and if you're sure I won't be imposing..."
"I do, and you won't be." Giles sighed lightly. Sometimes, Riley could be so...midwestern, Giles supposed. Certainly the other Americans he had met hadn't been nearly as solicitous. "When do you think your team would be arriving to inspect?"
After they worked out the logistical details, Giles ended the call and began making preparations. As he did so, Giles pondered what would qualify as "something wrong" significant enough to motivate Riley to move into the Association's headquarters until it could be solved. Giles didn't like any of the possibilities his imagination came up with, so he tried to stop thinking about it. He recalled something that he thought he had heard Buffy say once: "No sense in counting your apocalypses before they're hatched." Or was that Xander? Could have been Willow, he supposed...
Apocalyptic train of thought successfully diverted, Giles went back to his usual routine.
For his part, Riley was just relieved that he hadn't needed to explain his second special housing need. Despite his fairly regular contact with Giles, there were many things that Riley kept from him. He knew he was just putting off the inevitable, what with him going over in a week and all, but he felt this particular need was something best dealt with in person.
Not that he was the king of dealing with things in person or anything. No, Riley thought with no small amount of self-loathing, the king of bailing when things get rough sounded more accurate.
Riley shook the negative thoughts off as best he could. He always seemed to get down on himself whenever he dealt with Buffy's team (and that's what they'd always be, in his mind). If he was going to be staying with them for a while, he'd damn well better get past his issues about past failures, both personal and professional. He couldn't afford to spend all his time doubting himself.
After all, Riley reasoned, he had made his peace with just about everyone on Buffy's team back when he and Sam were tracking that Suvolte demon through Sunnydale in '02. He wasn't on Buffy's Christmas card list (if she even had one), but he didn't think she hated him, either. As for Giles, Riley had made his peace with him the first (and only) time he'd been to the Exe River facility, five months before Los Angeles.
*******************************
A week and a half later, Giles was on his way down the steps of the main building, heading home to make dinner, when he spotted a vehicle he didn’t recognize coming down the drive and pulling into the car park. Riley’s people had come and gone several days ago, so he had a pretty good idea who was driving the black Ford Galaxy minivan, but you couldn’t be too careful. He did not approach the van, but instead stood ready to make a break back into the building as the van pulled slowly to a stop at the base of the steps.
The van’s passenger-side front window rolled down, and Giles heard a familiar voice saying, “You know, driving on the left is bad enough, but how am I supposed to get used to turning right instead of left when I circle towards something I want to have on my side of the car?”
Upon hearing Riley’s voice, Giles relaxed and continued down the steps towards the van. “You should try parallel parking,” Giles teased. “The change in perspective makes it almost impossible, until you get used to it. How were your travels?”
“Oh, the usual,” Riley answered as Giles approached the passenger-side window. “Long transatlantic military flights are always a good time. A day or so at the Embassy in London getting everything in order, and then the standard 4 hour drive to get here.”
Riley looked around from his vantage point in the van. “I like what you’ve done with the place, Giles. It looks a lot more lived in than the last time I was here. Oh, and I like the sign, too. Did you know that...”
“Please, do not mention the sign,” Giles interrupted, with a bit of a growl in his voice.
Riley wondered what the sore spot was about the sign, but figured that now was not the time to pursue it. “Sign, what sign?” Riley replied, with a little smirk.
Giles looked a little sheepish as he realized how he’d responded, but he recovered quickly and changed the subject. “I was just heading over to my house to make Buffy and myself some dinner. Would you care to join us?”
The shock on Riley’s face confused Giles for a moment, until he mentally reviewed his recent conversations with Riley and realized he had failed to impart something. “Oh, dear. I’m terribly sorry, Riley,” Giles said. “You threw me off a bit when you announced you were going to be coming, and I completely forgot to mention that Buffy was here as well. I hope that won’t be a problem?”
Riley struggled to regain his composure. Multiple ugly scenarios ran through his mind as he factored in Buffy’s unexpected presence. After a moment, Riley realized there was no point in getting worked up. She was here, and he would just have to deal with it. He took a deep breath, collected himself and responded. “No, Giles, it’s fine. Just a little surprised, that’s all. How long is she staying?”
Giles sheepishly replied, “Actually, she has just taken a position at the Training Centre, so she now lives here. We haven’t worked out permanent housing for her yet, so she is still staying with me.”
“Oh.” Riley had hoped that he’d have a chance to talk things through with Giles first, but it looked like he’d have to include Buffy, too. Best to get the awkwardness and violence over with, he supposed. “Well, that’s great,” Riley said half-heartedly. “Dinner it is, then. I would like unpack a little first, though. When should I come by?”
Giles and Riley worked out the specifics, not just of tonight’s dinner, but also how to get from the main building to gardener’s house, and how to get from there to Giles’ house. Giles was a bit distracted throughout, and Riley figured it had to be because Giles hadn’t told Buffy that he was coming, either. He almost felt bad for Giles as the man stepped away from Riley’s van and headed toward his house, obviously deep in thought.
Riley had no trouble finding the gardener’s house, and was happy to see that it would suit his needs perfectly. A quick tour through the house showed that his team had only had to make a few modifications, which was both good and bad. Good, because it meant they had been done quickly and hadn’t raised any questions that would have forced him to talk to Giles about his situation. Bad, because now he couldn’t put off talking about it any longer, and even worse, he’d have to talk about it with Buffy there, too.
Okay, soldier, Riley thought to himself. No more self-doubt, and no self-pity. He’d always known he’d have to have this talk with Buffy’s team sometime, and that time just happened to be tonight. Nothing to be done about it but face it head on, because it wasn’t going to go away.
Mental pep talk finished, Riley headed out of his house and back to his van for the very short drive to Giles’ house.
*******************************
“I’m getting a definite third-wheel vibe here, Giles. You want me to eat elsewhere tonight?”
Startled, Giles looked up from the table he had just finished setting. Buffy, as was her wont, had stayed upstairs until just before the meal time, and Giles had taken advantage of that situation to avoid discussing their dinner guest. He decided it would be better discussed after the meal was prepared so he could devote his full attention to each task. The alternative would inevitably lead to overcooked pasta and an even-more-upset Buffy, both of which were to be avoided at all costs.
Despite all the extra time his delay had afforded him, he still didn’t know how best to broach the subject. He decided to take a slightly indirect approach. “Actually, Buffy, I’m more likely to be a third-wheel than you.”
Buffy gave him a small smile. “Well, duh. Who would you want to chat more with, the young, beautiful California girl, or the oldish British librarian-type?”
“Actually...” Giles began, only to be cut off.
“Sorry, I forgot for a minute who you were,” Buffy said, her tone still playful. “Who would a normal person want to chat with more?”
Buffy decided to take Giles’ indulgent smile as her answer, and she continued, “Exactly. So, are we going to play Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner, or are you gonna spill?”
No way around it now, Giles thought to himself. He decided to play it casually, and turned back into the kitchen, saying over his shoulder, “Riley.”
Giles expected Buffy to pursue him into the kitchen, and was somewhat surprised when she didn’t. He returned from the kitchen carrying the pasta to find that Buffy hadn’t moved an inch, and was glaring at him, hands on her hips. Oh, dear.
“Riley, as in Agent Riley Finn, as in my ex-boyfriend, is coming to dinner, and you didn’t warn me?”
Buffy’s voice was quiet and controlled, which was the exact opposite of what Giles had hoped for. Histrionics meant she was just venting some nervous energy; calm and collected meant she was genuinely angry.
“I am very sorry about that, Buffy,” Giles said, in what he hoped was his most apologetic tone of voice. “Riley surprised me somewhat when he called and said he was coming, and by the time I got everything arranged for his visit, I was so used to the idea that I forgot to inform you.”
Giles’ voiced changed from apologetic to a more introspective tone, as he said, “In fact, I’ve been so used to being by myself here, that there have probably been many things I haven’t told you about. I do apologize, and I will try to do a better job of keeping you up-to-date about what’s going on here at the Centre.”
Buffy’s glare softened a bit. “Look, Giles, I don’t want to know about the latest plan to trim the bushes differently, or whatever. But when someone is coming to visit that I know, and especially when that someone is an ex-boyfriend, you really need to tell me about it. Okay?”
“I promise, I will tell you about any visitors that you know personally well in advance of their arrival in the future,” Giles replied, and was pleased to see Buffy smile. The smile quickly was replaced by a look approaching horror.
“Oh, God, when is he coming, Giles? I need to change! And maybe take a shower! Hmm, what can I do with my hair...” Buffy paused in her rant as she realized that Giles was chuckling at her. “Look, all this would have been dealt with long ago if you had just told me, so don’t go laughing at my panic now. When is he coming?”
Giles looked at the clock on the mantle. “Actually, he should have been here five minutes ago. Being late isn’t like him. I wonder if he had any trouble making his way to the house..”
Buffy was right behind Giles as he headed to the front door. “Giles, I’m as directionally challenged as they come, and I’m pretty sure that I could get here with no...umph.”
Giles had come to a complete stop on his front stoop, and Buffy had walked right into his back. Giles was blocking her view, and not moving. Not very helpful, in her opinion. “Hey, Giles, could you unpause or something? I can’t see through you.”
Giles didn’t respond verbally, but turned his body very slowly, keeping his gaze locked on something in front of him. He finally moved enough for Buffy to be able to see around him, and when she took in the scene, she froze as well, eyes wide and mouth open.
There was Riley, next to what she presumed was his van. He looked a little older, but otherwise not that different, except for one glaring thing.
He wasn’t standing there.
He was sitting there.
In a wheelchair.
A big, black motorized wheelchair. From the way it was positioned, it looked like Riley had tried to coax it up over the curb, but had given up. He looked at Giles, somewhat sheepishly.
“I’m sorry, Giles, but I guess I’ve just gotten used to having ramps and stuff the places I usually go. Maybe we should have dinner down at my place?” The total lack of a response gave Riley time to gather up the courage to look over at Buffy, and shyly say, “Hello, Buffy. You look great.”
Hearing her name must have unfrozen her, because before Riley could really register that she’d moved, Buffy was standing next to his chair, giving him a very, very tight hug despite the awkward angle.
Maybe this won’t be so bad after all, Riley thought to himself, just before Buffy released the hug, and slapped him across the face.
*******************************
The side of Riley’s face had almost returned to its normal color by the time the meal was over. Buffy had held back when she slapped him, obviously, but she still put enough behind it to make sure he remembered being hit for a while.
Buffy didn’t explain either the hug or the slap, and instead just dragged Riley’s chair rather unceremoniously over the curb and up the stairs into Giles’ house. Giles managed to get himself moving again in time to get out of the doorway and move the third chair away from the dining room table before Buffy deposited Riley there.
Dinner was a mostly silent affair, with Giles and Riley exchanging just a little polite small talk. Buffy alternated between glaring at Riley, which he had expected, and glaring at Giles, which he had not.
Once the meal was done, Giles suggested they adjourn to the sitting room. Buffy seemed to glare even more fiercely at Giles after that, which confused both Giles and Riley for a moment until Buffy slapped her napkin on the table and muttered, “Fine, let’s take the guy in the wheelchair to the room for people who sit.”
Giles’ impatience with Buffy’s behavior overcame his sense of decorum. “For goodness sake, Buffy! It’s just another name for living room!”
“And you couldn’t have thought about it for a second and just called it a living room?” Buffy snapped as she slid her chair back and headed toward the living room.
Riley was torn. He didn’t really want to say anything to Buffy until she had a chance to calm down, having learned early on that an irritated Buffy was to be avoided at all costs. Still, he didn’t like the idea that Buffy was going to be so...cautious around him. If she blows up every time someone says anything to me about sitting, Riley thought, that’s only going to make the others uneasy. Being in the chair is bad enough; having it called to everyone’s attention is worse. I wonder which sitting reference will set her off next...
Riley’s badly disguised snort made Buffy whirl around to glare at him from the doorway between the dining and living rooms. “What’s so funny?”
Riley tried to wave Buffy off, but the glare continued. Riley chuckled quietly, and decided he’d share the slightly inappropriate humor. He put on what he thought of as his most charming smile as he backed his chair away from the table and headed towards Buffy. “I was just thinking that it’s a good thing that the Fonz’s favorite insult isn’t still popular, or you might end up killing someone.”
Buffy’s glare softened slightly as she tipped her head a little to one side. “The Fonz?”
Buffy was still standing the doorway, so Riley pulled up a few feet short. “You know, Fonzie? Arthur Fonzarelli? Giles, help me out here.”
Giles, who had taken advantage of Buffy and Riley’s conversation to start clearing the table, glanced over as he headed into the kitchen with the dirty dishes. “I’m sorry, Riley, but I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Giles replied.
Riley, realizing what Giles was doing, rotated partway toward the doorway to the kitchen and called out, “Giles, do you need a hand with those?”
“Actually, I think I’ll let them sit in the sink for a little while. But thank you for the offer,” Giles answered as he headed back into the dining room to collect the food.
Riley turned back to Buffy and looked thoughtfully at her for a moment, before saying, “I can’t believe you didn’t watch Happy Days as a kid. You know, Richie Cunningham? His bratty sister Joanie? Ralph Malph? Al’s Diner? Pinky Tuscadero? Potsie? Any of this ringing a bell?”
“Potsie? Nope, I’m pretty sure I’d remember a show with people called Richie, Fonzie, Pinky and Potsie,” Buffy replied, her glare gone now, and a hint of a smile on her face.
Riley shook his head in disbelief at Buffy, turned his chair towards the kitchen and called out to Giles, “C’mon, Giles. How could you have lived through the '70's and not remember Fonzie? Even over here, he had to have been popular.”
On that thought, Riley paused for a moment, suddenly becoming unsure. “They did air Happy Days over here, didn’t they, Giles?”
Riley was a bit surprised to have the answer come from the living room behind Buffy instead of from the kitchen. He hadn’t realized that the kitchen had a doorway to the living room as well.
“I vaguely remember a show of that name,” Giles replied as he maneuvered one of the armchairs to the corner of the room. “I believe it was on ITV when I was a young man. At the time, I was rather more interested in making a go of it as a punk rocker, so I can’t say I ever watched the show. Wasn’t that bit before your time?”
Hearing Giles’ response from behind her, Buffy had turned and continued into the living room, heading for the chair against the wall on the left. Riley followed Buffy in and rolled over to the spot on the right that Giles had just created. Giles sat on the couch in between, noting with some concern that he had just managed to place himself in the mediator position between Buffy and Riley.
Riley continued talking as he rolled into position. “Oh, I was old enough to watch the original episodes near the end. The show was on for something like 10 years. But it was the repeats at 7 after the national news that really got me hooked.”
Buffy had been momentarily distracted by the banter, but her irritation with the entire situation was coming back rapidly. “Riley, why are we talking about some random ancient sitcom?”
Riley was a bit startled by Buffy’s interjection. He had been about to launch into a description of a few of the show’s highlights, thinking they would jog Giles’ memory. Happy Days had been one of his favorite shows as a kid, and he was having a hard time with the idea that Giles wouldn’t have seen at least a few episodes over the years.
“What? Oh, right, ah...well, I was hoping that with a little explanation someone in the house might get my joke,” Riley said with a sigh.“But I guess no one will, so I’ll just move on.”
Now that Buffy had successfully halted the harmless banter, Riley really felt like he was in the spotlight. In one last attempt at avoidance, he asked Buffy, “So, how’s Dawn doing?”
“Dawn is a fine, self-sufficient young person, and I’m sure she’d gladly tell you all about how she’s doing when you call to tell her about what the hell happened to you!” Buffy’s voice had risen to an almost-shout, but she visibly forced it back down as she turned towards Giles and favored him with yet another glare.
“And Giles? Remember that talk we had about what sort of things you need to tell me about? This,” Buffy said, gesturing at Riley, “is one of those things.”
Giles suddenly realized why he'd been a target of Buffy's glares over dinner. “I can assure you, Buffy, that I had no idea about Riley’s, erm, condition, until I saw him in the car park before dinner.
"In fact," Giles continued, turning towards Riley, "I probably have more reason to be put out than you do, seeing how I’ve had much more contact with Riley than you have over the past several years.”
Buffy wasn’t done with Giles yet, though. “But you saw him earlier today. How could you not have noticed the whole wheelchair thing?”
Although he really didn’t want to have this conversation at all, Riley’s sense of honor wouldn’t let him sit back and let Giles continue to take Buffy’s displaced wrath. With a small sigh, Riley interrupted, “Actually, Buffy, Giles only saw me from my van. It’s set up for me to drive with hand controls only, and I just lock my chair in the spot where the driver’s seat usually would be. Because the interior’s black, my chair is black, and the hand controls are pretty subtle, it’d be easy not to notice.”
“And you!” Buffy exclaimed, her attention now fully on Riley. “How could you lie to us about something like this?”
Ever since his entire Sunnydale experience, Riley had tried to be as straight with the people he dealt with as possible, so he did not react well to being accused of lying. He attempted to keep himself from sounding too angry as he ground out, “I didn’t lie about anything, Buffy. You never asked.”
“Never asked?” Buffy said incredulously. “What were we supposed to say, ‘So, Riley, taken a nice walk lately?’ Or maybe, ‘How’re your legs doing today? Fully functional?’”
This time it was Giles who attempted to deflect some of Buffy’s wrath from Riley, although he was less than pleased with the young man himself. “Riley, it was at the very least a lie of omission. But, be that as it may, rather than spending the evening pointing fingers, I for one would like to hear how it happened in the first place.”
“Yeah, what he said,” Buffy added, gesturing towards Giles. “So spill already.”
Riley sighed, looked down and began pulling on his right thumb with his left hand. Some small part of his mind recognized the action as his post-accident substitute for the leg twitching he used to do when he was nervous. Keeping his head down and his tone low, Riley replied, “Los Angeles.”
Buffy and Giles both looked confused, but Riley didn’t look up from his hands to catch their expressions. After a fairly long moment, Giles prodded, “I’m sorry, Riley, but what about Los Angeles?”
“That’s when I got hurt. Los Angeles,” Riley answered, still without looking up.
Buffy gasped, and Giles removed his glasses and began the polishing ritual, as they both realized Riley wasn’t talking about the city, he was talking about “The Battle of...”
The Battle of Los Angeles had been their biggest failure to date, and had been a lesson of one type or another for just about everyone in the Watchers’ Association. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the secure telephone line that Riley’s people had set up only a few months before, they might not have even been able to provide what little assistance they did. To know that Riley’s injury came about during Los Angeles added yet another consequence to their failure, and yet another thing for both Buffy and Giles to use to beat themselves up with when their moods turned dark. It certainly served to remove any anger either of them might have had toward Riley for keeping the injury from them.
Buffy was the first one to break the silence. In a quiet voice, she asked, “Was it before Sam, or after?”
Even though the question would have confused an outsider, Riley knew exactly what she was talking about. He continued pulling on his thumb and staring at his hands as he replied, “Just before. I’d been hit in the back of the head by an unknown HST, and fallen to my knees. I was a bit concussed, and had trouble focusing. While I was down, another unknown HST kicked me in the gut, flipping me up in the air so that I landed on my back. At that point, I was still having trouble seeing, so I couldn't determine exactly what type of HST was approaching. Whatever it was, it had huge hands, because it grabbed both of my legs with one hand, lifted me up and attempted to wrap me around the corner of a nearby building.”
Even though Riley refused to look at them, Buffy and Giles could feel the grief and anger in his voice. They also recognized that Riley had slipped into military debriefing mode, but neither felt the need to comment on it. They waited patiently until Riley took a deep, shuddering breath and continued.
“I passed out almost instantly from the pain. Based on the debriefings of the other surviving members of my unit, Sam saw my upper body come around the corner of the building and she immediately ran over to lend assistance. She managed to behead the HST after he had dropped me, and spent the next several minutes killing anything that came near my body, screaming for a medic the whole time.”
Riley looked up for the first time since he began the story, and gave Buffy a faint smile. “Graham said he’d never seen anyone fight like that who wasn’t a Slayer.”
“Of course, she wasn’t a Slayer,” Riley continued, dropping his smile and looking back down at his hands. “She managed to hold off all comers until a backup unit arrived with more troops and a medic, but by then she’d taken too many hits, and lost too much blood. She was dead before we reached the evac point.”
Buffy was stunned. She knew that Sam had died during Los Angeles, but Riley hadn't given anyone any specifics. Now that she knew, Buffy understood why. After what she hoped was an appropriate period of silence, Buffy apologetically said, “Riley, I’m so...”
Riley’s head snapped up and he cut her off. “Don’t. Please, just don’t.”
Seeing Buffy’s hurt look, Riley sighed, and continued, “Look, I don’t blame your people anymore. I know what it’s like to have bad intel, or to not know when someone who looks like they’ve gone rogue is actually a double-agent. It’s a war we’re fighting. People get hurt. People die. Sometimes it’s because the good guys screw up, but sometimes it’s just because of the bad guys.”
Buffy looked like she didn’t agree, but was trying really hard not to say anything. Giles, on the other had, was concerned by Riley’s first statement. “But you did blame us at first?”
“Yes,” Riley replied bluntly. “I was angry. I couldn’t take it out on the bad guys, because I was stuck behind a desk, once they let me out of the hospital. So I blamed you.”
Realizing after a few moments of silence that he was going to have to drive the conversation, Giles gently asked, “Why did you stop? Blaming us, that is.”
“Well, the base shrink helped a bit,” Riley replied with a slight chuckle. “I’d always hated the post-mission shrink sessions, but the grief counseling turned out to be pretty useful.”
Riley made sure to catch Giles’ eyes as he continued, “I think the key thing for me was when she asked me if I would have acted any differently, in your position. At that point, you and I had talked a bit post-Los Angeles, so I knew something about what had happened from your perspective and why. After thinking about it, I had to admit that I would have done pretty much the same things you did. Once I figured that out, it was hard to blame you.”
“But you should blame us,” Buffy blurted out, much to the surprise of the others. And, based on the look on her face, much to her own surprise, too. “Um...I mean, this is our job. We’re the mystically-called warriors, designed to deal with all the demony evil the planet has to offer.”
Buffy’s tone grew more resolved as she continued. “I appreciate any help, don’t get me wrong, but you guys do this by your own choice. That’s great for back-up troops, or dealing with the smallish stuff, but we’re the chosen ones for a reason. We’re supposed to be on the front lines when the apocalyptic-level stuff happens. We’re not supposed to just send in Faith and a couple of newbie Slayers to mop up.”
“Los Angeles should have been our first big post-First Evil battle,” Buffy continued in a softer voice, looking down as she finished, “not our first big failure.”
“Buffy, look at me,” Riley said with a firm but gentle tone. Once she looked up, he continued, “Yes, you are now one of the Chosen many. But there still aren’t enough of you to be everywhere at once. You do the best you can with what you have, whether it's people or information. No one should expect more of themselves. That way lies madness, as the base shrink has told me on more than one occasion.”
Buffy favored him with a small smile, and said, “So, is this one of those ‘do as I say, not as I do’ things? You know, that didn’t work for my Mom, it doesn’t work for Giles, I don’t know why you think it’ll work for you.”
“It will work because I sit in the Chair of Personal Experience,” Riley replied, smirking as he patted the arms of his chair twice. “It adds extra weight to everything I say, forcing all to bow to my superior logic.”
Buffy and Giles had no choice but to laugh.
***********************************
Having dealt with the elephant in the corner of the room, the three spent the next few hours chatting amicably, discussing mutual friends, as well as their own lives. Finally, after letting out a big yawn that he tried to hide, Riley admitted that he probably should head back to his house and get some sleep.
Buffy carried Riley and his chair down the steps, and she helped him drop over the curb and into the parking lot. Both Buffy and Giles were impressed with the ramp that came down from the back of the van, allowing Riley to get himself in and out of the van unaided. Just after Riley had secured his chair in position and was getting ready to pull out, Giles remembered he had one other topic he’d wanted to at least touch on.
“Oh, Riley, one more thing,” Giles called out from the curb, successfully stopping Riley from backing out. Both Giles and a curious Buffy stepped down from the curb and approached the driver’s side window.
Standing close enough to hopefully provide Riley with some sense of security, Giles asked, “Do you think you could give me at least an inkling as to why you’ve come? I’m sure we’ll go over it in detail over the next several days, but I’ve been nearly beside myself with curiosity.”
“Well, it’s more of a feeling than anything,” Riley said, keeping his gaze on the steering wheel. “Like I told you before, I’m seeing a lot of things go across my desk that don’t make any sense.”
“What kind of things?” Buffy asked.
Riley took a deep breath. Well, here goes nothing, he thought, as he turned and looked at Giles and Buffy.
“Do you know where all your Slayers are?”
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