"Risk"
Author: DH Artemis
Email: dhartemis@hotmail.com
Spoilers: Takes places sometime between A New Man and Who Are You.
Notes: Special thanks to my sisters, who are blunt enough to let me know
when I'm getting too sappy and make me think of more realistic plots. Hopefully
this isn't quite as cheesy as the first draft they read. =)
Additional Notes: Curses, foiled again! I thought I had at least another week
until this story got Jossed. Oh, well. (And hey, I guess this still could
have happened, and Riley's just a really good actor.)
"Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds."
- William Shakespeare
She thinks I don't already know about him, but I do.
Finding out wasn't hard. I knew she still had secrets, even after we both stumbled on each other's night jobs. I do, too. Everyone does. But I thought Buffy's secrets would be simple, harmless things like mine -- assorted ex-girlfriends, getting arrested for a fraternity initiation prank, the sentimental stuffed dog that I couldn't quite bear to leave in Iowa, even though it hasn't left the box under my bed for three years. So I set about discovering her secrets as part of the giddy process of learning more about this woman who so captivated me, the same way I assumed that she'd eventually uncover mine.
Her friends were mostly a dead end; their reluctance to talk even casually about the past should have been a red flag but wasn't until I had the added benefit of hindsight. But the tense look on Xander's face gave me a vague indication towards unsavory ex's, and Anya made some interesting comments about leather that I'm still trying to interpret. Willow was the only one from whom I learned absolutely nothing. Only my observation that her cheerful conversation changed subtly to higher-pitched cheerful babbling convinced me that I was on the right track -- there *was* something significant I didn't know, I was sure of it. But it was simply a game at that point. I didn't suspect anything of the magnitude I eventually discovered.
It was Giles who literally handed me the solution to my puzzle, and even then it was only by accident. It happened when I was at his apartment for my first all-night Scooby gang research party. I was sitting at his desk working my way methodically through a tall stack of books that Giles added a few more volumes to every time I started to think I was making progress. He didn't notice when he accidentally placed his Watcher's Diary in the pile, and I didn't fully realize what it was until I was already engrossed in its pages.
At the time I thought I had either impeccable timing or amazing karma; I was alone in a room that should have been brimming with people. Giles was upstairs sorting through an old trunk, Anya was snoring soundly in the easy chair, Willow had accompanied Xander on a pastry-finding mission, and Buffy was patrolling, just in case.
If I had realized that the record was literally a diary, not just a dry historical document, I might have had the willpower to put it aside. It's easy to tell myself I would have done it, because there's no way to ever find out.
I really wasn't looking for her deepest, darkest secrets as I skimmed the pages. I just thought maybe I could find a few of the "Buffy breaks her butt" stories that she had mentioned but never described. Idle curiosity. Okay, to be completely honest, I guess it was curiosity tinged with a little macho pride. My girlfriend can fight circles around me, and I'm almost always perfectly fine with that. Hell, I'm proud of her for it. But there was a small part of me that wanted to see if there were monsters she hadn't been able to fight alone. I wanted to reassure myself that there would be times when she genuinely needed me to back her up.
Well, I found a demon she couldn't fight. I was just shocked to find out that it wasn't the actual demon that posed the problem -- it was her love for him that nearly defeated her.
I was working my way backwards through the book, so the specifics of Angel's moment of perfect happiness were almost the last thing I read. Shell-shocked, I turned back a few pages and read one last paragraph detailing Giles' concerns about the budding relationship -- and his suspicions that Buffy's patrols were less than effective when Angel went with her. Remembering a few of the patrols I had tagged along for in the last few weeks, I closed the book and set it carefully on top of the unread stack in front of me. I didn't want to know any more.
Before I had time to round up my poor, confused brain cells and put them back in order, everyone returned. Giles thumped down the stairs with a triumphant shout, clutching some kind of amulet in his hand. As he passed the desk, he picked up the diary and moved it to a bookshelf, bringing me a different book of similar size and binding. "Sorry, wrong stack," he muttered, still staring intently at the medallion in his hands. "You'll have rather more luck finding Alzbek demons with this one." The sound of his voice woke Anya, who immediately started questioning again why the rest of us couldn't just go home when Buffy was the only one in actual danger.
I pasted a smile on my face and said thank you as Willow and Xander passed around the donuts. I even managed to remember Buffy's advice not to take the last jelly donut, although at that point I was so preoccupied I probably wouldn't have noticed if they had fed me rocks. It took me a full minute of staring at the maple bar in my hand to even recognize what it was, let alone remember what I was supposed to do with it. But I choked it down anyway; the donut run had been my idea, and I couldn't risk anyone asking me what was wrong. What would I say? 'Sorry, not too hungry, I just found out my girlfriend slept with a vampire, and it's making me a little sick to my stomach.' -- didn't really seem like a valid option.
As the maple bar joined the knot in my stomach, Buffy slipped through the front door. I watched her, transfixed, seeing her through new eyes. I wondered if her walk used to be more carefree before her heart was broken repeatedly by a monster, or if she used to smile more, and for the first time I seriously wondered what she thought about when she stared off into space and played absently with the only finger on her left hand that never wore a ring.
The confusion was overwhelming. I wanted to yell and rant and break things and hit someone and confront them all for being idiots and fools. And I might have been stupid enough to do it, if I hadn't been acutely aware I had no right to read what I did. Not my place. None of my business. The thought hit me like a ton of bricks, and an eerie calm replaced my moment of insanity.
Desperate to pretend that nothing had happened, I turned back around to stare at the open book in front of me. I only half- listened as Buffy reported what she had seen to Giles, who started muttering and went back upstairs to dig through the trunk again.
I was so successful at blocking her out that I was incredibly startled when she leaned her chin on my shoulder and hugged me from behind. "Find anything?" she asked, nuzzling my neck.
"No," I answered, far too quickly. I gestured to the finished books to cover it up. "So far the most helpful thing I've found is tips on growing beets."
She grinned "I've read that one. So, what are you reading now?" She glanced at the book in front of me. "Hey, I didn't know you could speak ... hmm. Actually, I don't even know what language that is."
I focused on the page in front of me for the first time, only to confirm the book I had been studying for ten minutes was written in a language that uses the Cyrillic alphabet. Damn. "I don't know either," I admitted, trying to smile. "I, uh, must have dozed off. Anya's contagious." I stood slowly and leaned against the desk. I needed to leave before my lame cover-ups reached 'paintball' proportions. "I should probably go. I'm on pre-dawn patrol this week."
She looked a little disappointed, but she smiled and walked with me to the door. As I leaned down to quickly kiss her goodnight, I was suddenly afraid that it might be the last time. What if she got angry or upset once she realized what I knew? Or what if I did? I knew that soon all those emotions I had managed to swallow were going to come rushing back.
So before the numbness fled, I kissed her like I did the first time -- pulling her to me tightly, stroking her face, her hair, filled with fear and desperation and exhilaration. For a moment I could tell she was surprised, but she followed me, her arms twining around my neck. Caught up, I started to kiss down her throat. She shivered, and at the same time I felt the slight roughness of the faded scar near her shoulder.
I let go of her too quickly, overcome by a sick feeling of comprehension and dread. She stumbled slightly as she stepped back "Sorry," I mumbled, instinctively reaching out to steady her.
She watched me closely, eyebrows drawn together in concern. "What happened? Are you okay?" she asked softly.
I nodded but couldn't quite manage a smile. "Yeah. I just have to go." I closed the door behind me before she could respond.
For two days I avoided her and everyone else. I told Buffy I was swamped with Initiative work; I told the team I was sick.
Forrest and Graham each stopped by to check on me. Forrest chided me for being a wimp. Graham sat silently on my bed and watched as I bounced shot after shot off the rim of my miniature basketball hoop. As he left he quietly told me to let him know if I needed anything. I couldn't think of anything to say.
Instead, I spent two days of alternately staring at the ceiling and missing hundreds of basketball shots. Two days of being haunted by images of my girlfriend in the arms of a vampire; two days of thinking in circles: anger, pity, jealousy, despair, anger. I thought about mounting an Initiative attack against a particularly dangerous hostile -- if I could find him. I thought about bowing out gracefully in the face of an obviously star-crossed love. And I thought about stealing a few of Willow's books and doing a little research on forgetting spells.
I couldn't decide. There were a million different actions I could take, options I could pursue, and attitudes I could adopt, but each one eventually boiled down to only three possible outcomes: I could not be able to handle it and break up withher. I could not be okay with it, but try to ignore it until the issue was forced -- and then break up. Or I could make peacewith it, and learn to live with the fear she might never love me as much she loved (loves?) him, and the possibility thatsomeday he would come back ... and she would break up with me.
I didn't like any of the alternatives. There had to be another way, hopefully one that didn't end with my heart being ripped out of my chest. And after two days of debating, I put on my shoes and went to see the only person who might know another option -- or who at least might be able to understand what I was going through. Because Buffy's relationship with a vampire probably felt like a betrayal to him, too.
Giles was surprised to see me, but he hid it fairly well. I stood on his doorstep feeling somewhat foolish, and spent the first few minutes just trying to convince him that I wasn't looking for Buffy. Once that was accomplished, he stepped back to let me through the door. I didn't expect an invitation at that hour of the night, and he nodded, satisfied, when I stepped across the threshold without one. I turned down his offer of tea and sat on the couch fidgeting, suddenly unsure why exactly I had come.
"Was there something I can help you with?" he asked politely.
"I know about Angel," I blurted out. Way to go, Finn. Smooth.
He nearly spilled his tea. "I see," he said slowly. "Buffy told you?" he guessed.
"No." I hung my head slightly, still a little ashamed. "I stumbled across it in your Watcher's Diary when we wereresearching."
He nodded, lips pursed, but refrained from imparting any well- deserved reproach. I was grateful for that. "Why did you come to me?" he asked simply. "Why not Buffy?"
"I don't know. I thought, since you were her watcher, you might have some completely logical explanation for how the slayer got involved with a vampire. I mean, how could anyone have let that happen? You, Buffy, her friends ... why didn't anyone stop it?"
Giles considered this for a moment as he slowly sipped his tea. "T-tell me, Riley, did you know Buffy was the slayer when you started seeing her?"
"No."
"And when you discovered her identity, what were your reasons for continuing the relationship?"
"I -- care about her," I replied, feeling a little indignant, but stopping myself before I could use the word 'love.' "The slayer thing doesn't matter."
"No, of course not," he agreed readily. His conversational tone didn't match his next words. "For instance, it makes no difference that she has a sacred duty to spend the rest of her life battling evil. Or that she has aptly demonstrated her willingness to sacrifice what she loves for her duty. I-I'm sure you've also considered that it will be a miracle if she lives five years more before dying a violent death." He held up a hand to stop me from protesting. "You needn't tell me what sets her apart from other slayers, or profess your determination to protect her and defy fate. Those are both speeches I'm rather familiar with myself. But realistically, the odds remain bleak. Do you see my point? Logic has little bearing once love is involved, Riley. You of all people should know that." He could tell I was starting to understand, and he continued on.
"If you had been told before meeting Buffy that she might very well die before finishing at university, you would have thought twice before becoming involved. I imagine Buffy would have avoided association with Angel had she been warned in time. But when she discovered the truth she already loved him, and they both became oblivious to the peril their relationship posed. The rest of us tended to ignore it as well -- until it was too late."
"Love is blind," I muttered, trying not to sound bitter and failing miserably. "If they loved each other so much, why aren't they together now?"
He smiled sadly. "Eventually it became impossible for them to deny that b-being together was dangerous for everyone, especially themselves. Though others were certainly harmed as well." He stared past me for a few moments, and I glanced over my shoulder at his staircase, wondering what ghosts were lingering there for him. Eventually he shook his head and continued. "Angel wanted Buffy to have more than he could give her." He paused again, and I looked up to see him watching me intently. "He wanted Buffy to have the things *you* can give her, Riley."
I nodded, knowing he expected me to feel somewhat comforted by that. I wasn't. "It wasn't what she wanted, was it."
"No," he admitted readily. "She didn't want him to leave. But she does care for you, you needn't doubt that."
I wasn't too excited that he could see straight through my insecurities, but I wasn't ready for my pity-party to end. "She loved him. I think she still does. If the circumstances ever changed ... his curse ..." I left the statement hanging in the air like a challenge.
"It is possible," he replied gently. "Not likely, of course, but possible."
I sighed and slouched back against the couch cushions. "Why didn't she tell me?" The question was directed more at the ceiling than at Giles, but after a moment he answered anyway.
"I would guess that her reasons are similar to yours for not informing her of your discovery. Such a revelation would almost certainly jeopardize such a new relationship. And I imagine it's painful for her to talk about, even now."
He leaned forward, and I unconsciously mimicked his posture. "You won't find any easy answers in this, Riley, nor will there be any guarantees. Whether or not you can accept that is your decision, and it's not one I envy. Every relationship carries a c- certain degree of risk. I suspect the crux of the dilemma is whether you have the ability to walk away."
After a few more moments of contemplation I stood, and he followed me silently to the door. "Thank you, Mr. Giles," I said, and reached out to shake his hand. "Listen, please don't--"
"I won't say anything to Buffy," he assured me.
I walked home very slowly, lost in thought. Giles' advice had jogged my memory, and it was my own words that haunted me now. *I am by God not going to walk away because I think it might not work.* I told her that right before we started dating. When she was trying to make her own decision about Angel, I realized, and struggling against the same reaction I was battling -- it's too hard, it's too risky, I should cut my losses and run before I get hurt even more. I did everything I could to talk her out of those doubts. Now I just needed to convince myself.
In the end it wasn't nearly as hard as I was expecting. I saw a flash of blonde hair moving through the trees ahead of me as I made my way across campus, and after only a moment of hesitation, I followed her.
I tried not to sneak up on her, I really did. I know better than that, and I purposefully made a lot of noise as I approached her. But she must have been distracted, because the next thing I knew I was on my back on the ground with a stake poised menacingly over my chest. I started chuckling.
"Riley!" She dropped the stake and looked sheepish, but she made no move to let me up. And as I watched her face in the dim moonlight, I didn't mind at all.
"I'd really hate to be someone you didn't like," I said seriously, but I smiled at her a little, reaching up to brush her hair back behind her ear.
"I'm so sorry," she apologized. She seemed to suddenly notice that she still had me pinned, and she stood, offering me a hand up. "Did I hurt you?"
I took her hand and let her pull me into a sitting position, then pulled her down to sit next to me. "No, I'm fine. Just a few cracked ribs."
She rolled her eyes. "Wimp. What are you doing here, anyway? I mean, no weapons, no team. I thought you were on duty."
"I got off early," I avoided. "Quiet night. Listen, Buffy, I need to talk to you."
She looked up, instantly nervous. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I reassured her hastily, squeezing her hand. "I just wanted you to know--" I was on the verge of telling her everything when I glanced into her eyes.
She was gazing at me with an expression of total trust, though her forehead was lined with concern. And when I saw how worried she was about me, I suddenly let go of the rest of my doubts. I could tell she cared about me, and it was enough.
Don't get me wrong, I know I'll probably still be jealous sometimes of the history they share. And the knowledge that this unknown rival could suddenly reappear at any moment is beyond disconcerting. But I love her, even if it's too soon to admit that even to myself. I can't cheat myself of any time I could spend with her. Giles was right. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't walk away.
I smiled my first real smile in days, and leaned over to softly kiss her. "I've missed you."
"Me too," she said, though she looked a little confused. "Is that what you wanted to talk about?"
Think fast, Riley. "Well, no. I realized I never took you driving like I promised. Are you free this weekend?"
She laughed. "That's it? Sheesh, you had me worried. Yes, I'm free this weekend, barring any unexpected apocalypse." She smiled, then gave me a mock serious look. "You know, you said you'd teach me to drive -- that reminds me that I was going to teach you a few things as well. So consider this official lesson number one in the Things Riley Needs to Learn About Women. You ONLY invoke 'we need to talk' for BAD things," she finished, exasperated.
I grinned. If only she knew. "Hey, my exact words were 'I need to talk to you.' There's a difference."
"Whatever," she smiled. "Walk me home?" I nodded and pulled her to her feet. After kissing her good-bye on the doorstep of Stevenson, I walked home feeling surprisingly at peace and turmoil-free.
I know that the subject of Angel will have to come up eventually. I'm glad I realized in time that it doesn't have to be now. Sometimes I find myself leaving subtle openings where she could tell me if she wants to. So far she hasn't, and that's okay. Part of me is still afraid that if she told me it would be as an explanation for why she's leaving me. I'm all in favor of postponing that.
Even before I found out about Angel, there were never any guarantees this relationship would last forever. And I'm sure I haven't spent my last sleepless night of being haunted by the ghost of boyfriends past. But every time she kisses me, every time she smiles, every time I look at her -- I remember all over again that I'm willing to take the risk.
The End