Buffy glanced at her watch irritably. Just because she knew where Riley actually was nowadays didn’t make waiting for him any more fun. "Just a quick sweep tonight, he said," she muttered, barely able to hear herself over the pounding music and the collective roar of party-chatter. "Go ahead, I’ll meet you there, he said. Just a couple hours, I’ll be there by nine-thirty." She glanced at her watch again, the third time in two minutes. "An hour later, and still no sign. Does he think I can stay here all night? I have class tomorrow." This was true. The weekend began on Wednesday afternoon at UC Sunnydale, and it was Thursday night. The Party was in full swing.
Annoyance was a convenient place to put worry. She understood that about her mom now. If all had gone well and the patrol had encountered nothing, then he *would* have been here by nine-thirty. If they had run into some "hostiles", then the "bagging and tagging"—subduing the demon, taking it back to Initiative HQ, locking it up, and filling out the paperwork—might have slowed him down.
Assuming that they’d won the fight.
"That does it," Buffy muttered to herself. "I’m going out and looking for him."
She turned on her heel to go tell Willow what she was doing and nearly ran directly into some guy who’d been coming up behind her. Fortunately, she caught herself before a collision that probably would have sent him skidding across the floor.
"Oh! I’m sorry!" Buffy exclaimed.
"No, that’s okay," he assured her. "I was actually coming over to see you." He held up his hands, each of which was holding a cup of punch. "You were standing over here all by yourself, and—"
"Oh, I was just waiting for my boyfriend," Buffy said quickly. The guy was gorgeous, but even if she wasn't with Riley, he wouldn’t have had a chance. He looked too much like her two Great Disasters—he was tall and muscular with short-cropped, jet-black hair and big, soulful blue eyes.
"Oh," He looked crestfallen. "Well, still, have some punch," he said, holding out one of the cups. "It’s good."
She accepted the cup and he lingered anxiously for a moment while she took her first sip. "It *is* good," she praised, smiling and nodding at him. He smiled back, then wandered off back into the crowd.
Actually, it tasted kind of funny. But except for her adventures in One Million Beer C, she didn’t have much experience with booze. Maybe that was how it was supposed to taste.
*
Fifteen minutes later, Buffy was at the end of her patience. Images of Riley scattered across one of the school lawns kept flashing into her head, and she couldn’t take it anymore. After one last glance out the front door to see if he was coming—her fifth—Buffy crossed over to the couch where Willow was sitting.
Poor Willow. She was still so broken up over Oz. She was just sitting at the end of the couch, watching the party go on around her, staring at the occasional couple making out in the shadows with a mixture of wistfulness and envy. Buffy knew that she couldn’t be having much fun and that she herself should be doing something about that. Until quarter after ten had arrived and she’d realized just how late Riley was, she had been. But right now it was closing in on eleven and she was too worried to be very good company. She’d make it up when she returned with Riley thrown over her shoulder.
"Hey, Will?"
"Uh?" Willow looked up at her, startled out of a reverie.
"Riley’s late, and I’m getting a little worried. I’m going to go out and look for him."
"Oh," Willow said, sounding disappointed. "Okay."
"We’ll be back soon," Buffy promised. "Just sit tight."
*
"Just sit tight," Willow grumbled as she watched Buffy go. "I just bet you’ll be right back…after half an hour or so of smoochies. Why did you even bring me if you didn’t really want to hang out with me you big—" She paused and considered, then a spiteful look appeared on her face. "No, not big, *little*—abandoner?" Not for the first time, she wished that she’d begged off tonight and gone to hang out with Tara.
"Excuse me."
Willow glanced up. There was an absolutely gorgeous guy standing there in front of her—blue eyes and broad shoulders and black hair. Somehow, she didn’t find him as interesting as she once would have. Maybe it was because his hair was all short and spiky, so it reminded her of both Angel and Oz. A Double-Strength Man Trouble Warning Beacon.
"Yes?"
"Is your friend all right?" He asked.
"Oh, she’s a pal," Willow muttered under her breath.
"I’m sorry?"
*You’re being rude*, Willow scolded herself. *He hasn’t done anything.* "She’s gone to pick up her boyfriend," She explained. "They should be back in a while."
"I guess that gives me a little time to get acquainted with you, then," He smiled. "Can I get you something to drink?"
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