Buffy rolled over in her sleep, murmuring. An out-flung arm caught Riley in the ribs, startling him into wakefulness. His eyes snapped open and he glanced quickly around the room, trying to ascertain the reason. The muscles in his arms and legs tensed, readying for any sudden movements that might be needed. At that moment, Buffy murmured again and shifted, still sleeping. He sighed. Buffy again. He wasn't used to a bedpartner, and Buffy had given him a crash course in learning how to deal with a restless sleeper. She kicked and poked and prodded so much that he was amazed he didn't have bruises. A wide smile stretched his lips as soon as he saw her, though. The moonlight streamed through his window to land in a soft pool on her face and exposed arm and shoulder, turning the skin a milky color, instead of its usual warm golden copper.

Suddenly, Buffy moved again, restlessly, her outstretched arm reaching for something, straining to grab hold of anything it could feel. Riley extended his hand and let hers find it. When she did clutch on to him, it was with enormous strength, as if to pull him away from something and toward her. The murmuring had started again, but this time at a fevered pitch. He'd never heard her so worked up during a dream; her head was thrashing about on the pillow, and her hair was in golden disarray across the dark blue sheets.

The murmurs began to grow louder.

"Don't... please, God don'-....." She broke off, tossing her head to the other side. "I can't lose... too much... I love you..." She paused again, completely unaware of the man lying next to her, his face paling as he listened to her speak. "Angel!...You can't..." The name itself made him wince. He tried to stay still, to let her ride out the dream, but it was a losing battle and his hand crept up, of its volition, to stroke the hair back from her forehead. He was growing a little worried; the dream hadn't seemed to let her go, and she was beginning to tremble. With a shock, he saw tears start to drip out from underneath her lashes, falling in streams that glinted silver in the moonlight. He couldn't stand to see her in so much pain, and leaned over to wake her up.

"Buffy," he murmured, trailing his lips next to her ear. "Buffy, wake up, sweetheart. You're dreaming." No effect. "Buffy," a little more urgently. His hands came to rest on her shoulders and he shook her gently. "Wake up..." He shook her a little harder.

"ANGEL!" she screamed, flying up, tears streaming down her face.

Her eyes cast wildly about the room, searching for *something* familiar to cling to. Her mind replayed the last few seconds of her nightmare: Angel, his body in chains, being tortured in the hell that she had sent him to. His eyes had fixed themselves on her, drawing her towards him, berating her for her actions, telling her that she was little more than a toy. A tramp who would sleep with any man she could charm. Buffy started to sob in earnest, recalling Angel's last few horrible words. "You're a worthless whore, Buffy, and you're a worthless Slayer. You'll never be able to protect the people you love. You'll never be able to protect Riley. And they will die. All because of you." The words whirled round and round inside her head, making it ache fiercely. Cool hands pressed a cup of water to her lips and urged her to drink. Looking up, she found herself gazing straight into the very tired blue eyes of Riley. Who had heard her scream. Oh God.

"Riley, I'm sorry- it was a bad dream, and I was trying to tell him to stop, and he wouldn't- he kept telling me that everyone would die... and I-"

Her babbling was cut off by a large hand that landed over her mouth.

"It's okay." Her head shook frantically back and forth, telling him that it *wasn't* okay, that she wanted to explain... "Buffy, it's alright. Honestly." She looked up at him, clearly not believing what he was telling her. "Now look," he started to explain, "Would Angel say those things to you? Buffy, from what I know of the guy, he loved you-" he stopped, corrected himself, "-loves you beyond all reason. There's no way he would ever say something so hurtful. Therefore, you're safe in assuming that it was a horrible nightmare. And those aren't real, are they." He hadn't made it sound like a question, and it wasn't meant to be one.

"I-I know," she whispered, clutching the sheets tightly in both fists, "but he told me you would die... and-and I can't stand the thought of that. I... worry about you, you know?" Her tiny face with its enormous green eyes was lifted to his in trust, an incredibly vulnerable expression stretched tightly across it.

"Yeah, I know." His arms came up to enfold her in their grip, wrapping tightly around her back and pulling her toward him. They lay down together, her thin body pressed as tightly as possible against his. They stayed that way for what seemed hours, but he couldn't be sure since he couldn't see his clock.

"Riley?" she finally murmured sleepily.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you still with me?"

The question flummoxed him for a moment. Why was he still with her? Wasn't it obvious? "Buffy, I love you." The tone of voice spoke volumes- telling her that it was the simplest and most complicated thing in the world to him.

"Oh." She paused for a second, absorbing the information. "I love you, too."

At her words, all the jealously and unhappiness felt released from his heart. Angel's presence in their relationship had bothered him, like it would bother any man, but he had chosen to wait. He had a kind of blind faith that someday, Buffy would come to love him as well as she had her first love. Not the same love, since he knew that was impossible, but a new, maybe different kind of love that could be just as all-encompassing. Perhaps that day had finally come. His arms squeezed tighter around her body, and he pressed tiny kisses all over her hair.

And as before, they fell asleep, wrapped around each other, their arms and legs a tangle of limbs, her face pillowed in the crook of his shoulder, their breath and heartbeat echoing as one.

The End

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