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As Buffy regained consciousness, two things slowly became clear - number one, that from the knees down she was soaking wet, and, number two, she was still kissing Riley. Quite passionately, in fact - one hand on his waist, the other running through his hair. Despite the "From Here to Eternity" pose they found themselves in however, she could tell he wasn't quite into it - not at all a reaction she was used to.

Breaking away, she saw that she hadn't been imagining it - the uneasiness in his eyes was hard to miss, and it seemed clear that the last place he wanted to be right now was in her arms. Though Buffy would have liked to attribute it to him being partly submerged in water given that he was the one who had ended up on his back, she had a feeling that wasn't the case.

She supposed she couldn't really blame him. It was one of the dumber things she'd done in recent memory - pulling him down into that kiss only moments after he held Sam.

She pulled her head back slowly. Still... "I declare that the official Buffy-recommended way of traveling between dimensions."

He tried to cover with a quick grin and a lightly stated, "It certainly beats the butterflies." He wasn't very successful, though.

Well, Buffy - the deal was that you got to take him home. No one said anything about you getting to stay there with him.

As gracefully as possible, she climbed off of him, allowing him to sit up. She tried to be encouraged by the fact that he didn't actually stand up and walk away, but instead merely scooted back a bit so that he was no longer sitting in the water. He was standoffish enough, however, that she didn't even have the impulse to sit right next to him.

She moved herself to a dry spot just out of arm's reach and sat down. Oh, how tired she was of having this conversation with him. At least this would be the last time.

He didn't seem to be looking forward to it too much, either, seeing that he was completely silent as he found something incredibly interesting on the otherwise unremarkable horizon.

Well, fine, she may as well start it off. "The last time I hung out with God, I swear He looked absolutely nothing like Joe."

Though Riley smiled, he wouldn't meet her eyes. At least not until he turned and looked at her kind of as if he thought she was completely off her rocker. "You really think that was God?"

Riley stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on his hands, somehow managing to shrug at the same time. "I don't know. Does God have minions?"

"I think they're known as angels." She faltered on that last word, although, hey - why not just bring vampire ex-boyfriends into this loaded situation? It didn't matter that she hadn't actually been talking about Angel-angel. Just mentioning the word was enough.

Hell, maybe she could just go for the gold and figure out a way to bring up railroad ties and throw Spike in there, too. Then they could get into Riley's whole thing for vampires, and, to make it really fun, they could surely figure out a way to work Faith in. It would be a ball.

Buffy looked away. His eyes were too expressive, too full of things like pain and grief and guilt. This was going well. "So..."

O.k. New topic. "How are you?" The question sounded entirely lame, and yet she couldn't not ask it. He looked beyond beaten up; he looked like the soul had been forcibly yanked from his body.

He gave her a nice smile, one that seemed to acknowledge the irony of the situation. "Been better. You?"

Given that she'd spent the last day irrevocably proving the depth and strength of their love, her answer should have been something much more optimistic than, "Kind of the same."

His gaze focused on something behind her and his face brightened. "Is that Willow?" His smile faded almost immediately, however. "She didn't bring a shovel, did she?"

Looking over her shoulder, Buffy saw the entire team further up the beach, all alive and well. Not that she had been concerned - God had told her as much. Yes - the Holy One and the same, regardless of what Riley believed.

Sprague was sitting helping Brady build a campfire while Ana fiddled with a com-cam. Joe was back, too, smoking a cigarette as his friends got into their canoes and paddled away. And Graham, well... Graham was pacing back and forth somewhat urgently, waving his arms in a tightly controlled way. He was obviously not at all happy with Willow, Willow who had planted her body between Graham and where Buffy and Riley sat.

Thanks, Will. It was obvious that the only reason Buffy was getting these moments alone with Riley was due to that. Of course, given what she figured was about to happen, maybe it wasn't such a good thing.

Buffy sighed. No. Get it over with. Get back into the conversation, back to what Riley had just said. Which, by the way - huh? - it made exactly zero sense. "Why would Willow bring a shovel? We didn't need to dig you out of anything."

"Say it, Riley. Whatever it is, please just be done with it. Just…" At least she wasn't crying. Yay. "Just do it fast."

He stared at her for a few seconds. Did he remember the night when he'd said those words to her? The night he was so sure she'd chosen Angel over him?

"Sometimes I just don't get you," he muttered, shaking his head and turning away. "With the power you've always held over me…" He seemed exasperated when he turned back. "Why do you keep thinking I'm about to break up with you?"

Um, hello? "Belize. When we left for Quetico. After the bear." She ticked each item off on her fingers.

He leaned towards her, angry almost. "Belize doesn't count. That's just way too shades-of-gray to even think about right now. Quetico was…" He paused. "I don't know. I just thought…"

Buffy tried not to notice how close he'd gotten. He'd moved way into arm's reach range; he was more like in bend-your-head-just-a-little-bit-and-you-could-kiss-him range.

Belize - yes. Much bigger story. Quetico? O.k. That had been a misunderstanding.

At least he had the decency to look chastened, clearly having no legitimate excuse. And he obviously saw the look on her face, saying urgently, "I know that made no sense. Except…"

Riley seemed tentative, as though he hadn't quite decided what his explanation would be and was just sending this out as a test balloon. "When I was fighting with Kasey, I was thinking about why I never really tried to leave before then, and..." He let the rest of the words come out in a rush. "What would you say if I told you I thought it might be part of a spell? A binding kind of thing. To..." He looked away. "To Sam."

Instinctively, Buffy glanced up the beach at Willow. Part love, part locator spell, she'd said. Nothing about binding. Still, it didn't seem completely outrageous. In fact, it kind of made sense.

Buffy sat back; er, kind of back. Not far enough that she'd be out of Riley's reach should he decide that he could still manage to touch her after being so bound.

It had already been established that Harry had made a try for Riley on bear-day; and when she'd been under the spell herself, the feelings for Angel had been so strong that if Riley had been around, she couldn't swear that she wouldn't have said something equally stupid.

O.k., so what? It didn't answer the question, "Why are you breaking up with me this time?"

He was obviously annoyed, saying loudly and clearly, "I'm not breaking up with you."

Oh. "So then why aren't you kissing me right now?" She let her hand fall to the ground halfway between them, not quite believing him enough to actually reach out to him. If he wanted to, though, she wouldn't object.

Riley looked down at her hand - looked so badly like he wanted to take it. And yet he managed to resist. That wasn't exactly a good sign.

"Then what is this all about?" she asked quietly. Because if it wasn't about breaking up, it was obviously about something pretty serious.

He sat forward, picking a rock up off the beach and throwing it, watching it skip through the water. Rip through the water, rather. "I didn't say it wasn't about breaking up. I just said it wasn't about me breaking up with you."

No. Not a good sign at all. Because, given the circumstances - and their whole history together - it wasn't too hard to come up with the right answer. It wasn't too hard to figure out what he'd done that made him expect such a strong reaction from her.

Well, it wasn't as though this was coming as a shock. The only question was who it had been with. Buffy wasn't sure which one would be worse. May as well start with, "Sam."

"Nothing happened with Sam," he answered almost too quickly, whipping another rock across the water's surface.

Though Buffy knew that wasn't technically true, she couldn't blame him for that one, no matter how much it hurt.
So, then: Kasey. Obviously.

"You fought well together." Buffy was surprised she managed to get that out without choking over the words.

Of all the things she'd said to him, she didn't understand why that brought a grin to his face. He knew exactly why that would hurt so much. She wasn't sure what reaction she'd expected. That, however, definitely wasn't it.

He seemed to notice her confusion and, for the first time, actually relaxed a bit, finding his way to surer ground. "She fought like you used to. I just kept telling myself I was back in Sunnydale. With you."

That was where the intimacy came from? Because of her? Not because of four days of, well, quality time with the Princess.

Of course, the happy didn't really last. He pretty much killed it when he quietly said, "I knew it wasn't Sam."

His elbows rested on his knees, his eyes going down to his hands. "It didn't seem to matter, though. It just..." He didn't finish the thought. The way he'd sounded bitter before? It was nothing compared to the acid in his voice now, all of it directed inward. "Somehow I keep doing this to you, don't I?"

A part of her wanted to say, Define 'this.' She stayed quiet, though, since another part of her really didn't want to know. She'd rather concentrate on adjusting to this new perspective, to the realization that his earlier resistance had had nothing to do with him not wanting her - it was all about how she'd respond to what he'd done in that place.

Deep breath, Buffy. As convincingly as she could, she said, "It was a spell. One that was hard to resist."

Maybe too convincingly. And her credibility certainly wasn't enhanced by her turning bright pink. Because, let's be honest, she wasn't completely innocent here.

Riley clearly hadn't lost any brain cells during his stay in Kasey-land. He could put two and two together. "Angel?"

This time he didn't even bother with finding the right rock to skip; he just picked up the biggest one he could find and lobbed it as far as he could. Which was pretty far. "I know I don't really have a leg to stand on, here, but did you...?"

For a minute, the only sound that could be heard was the water lapping against the shore. Well, and the crickets chirping, an owl or two. Maybe Graham's footsteps - back and forth, back and forth. That had to be imagined, though; he was way too far away for her to actually hear.

"Kind of ironic, don't you think?" Riley sounded as though he'd already given up. "Sixteen years and we're right back in the same place."

Except, well, no. Not in the same place. So much older; so much wiser. So much more aware of how much it sucked not to be with him.

"Don't say anything," she said, thinking that she wasn't ready to have this discussion. Not right now. "Maybe it doesn't need to be better. Maybe we can just..." Just what, Buffy? Forget it all happened? Pretend that this whole four day interlude had never occurred? Pretend it wasn't occurring to her that once again she couldn't quite manage to keep him interested?

Oh, stop it. It was a spell. A powerful, overwhelming spell that had practically had her doing it with Angel on Mary's kitchen floor, only hours after Riley's death.

"So maybe I should have slept with Angel," she muttered. "Then we could at least be trading stories and having a grand old time."

There was a pause, and then Riley went back to skipping stones. "That's not actually the story."

From the harsh tone of his voice, she could tell that if she wanted to punish him in any way, she'd have to get in line. He was doing quite a job all by himself.

She looked down at the ground, wishing she could say it didn't matter. That she wanted him back so badly that she didn't care what he had done; that she just wanted to hold him again.

Well, what was wrong with that exactly? Why did it have to be all or nothing? Why couldn't she lean forward - just like that - and reach her hand out? Why couldn't she let it trail slowly down his arm, and just remind herself of how much she needed to feel him?

He looked at her for a minute and then looked away. "That night in Sunnydale? When you and Spike walked into that room?" With every word he retreated further into himself. "This was… It was more than that."

Think about this, Buffy. Think about the last time and how you always wondered what would have happened if you'd had just one more day; if you'd truly understood that good-bye was a permanent thing - that he'd disappear into the night, that you'd lose him to his new wife. That if it hadn't have been for the oddest of circumstances, you would have lost him forever.

She put her hand back, feeling his arm shake as he took a ragged breath. Remembering what Kasey had said, Buffy asked, "You dreamed about me?"

"And the day of the bear," she said, watching the tips of her fingers as they took their own path over the back of his hand. "You dreamed about me then, too."

He grasped her hand, struggling to keep his voice even as he again replied, "Yes."

This was nothing like what had happened all those years ago. This was magic, not free will. Not to mention all the years of experience and perspective she had gained since then, or the realization that after showing him all the grays in the palette of their world, that once upon a time she'd made it about black and white, right and wrong. She'd forced him into that hole, forced him to fly away. Was she ready to do that one more time? Let him disappear out of her life? Actually choose to let him go?

She looked up at Riley, hearing Joe's voice say, Trust in this, Buffy. Have faith. Haven't you learned anything today? Quit being Miss Melodrama and kiss him already.

"Hey," she said sharply, raising her eyes to the sky. No fair. "You don't get to pick sides." When she looked back down she realized Riley's face was only a few inches away.

Buffy closed her eyes and breathed him in, holding his hand tightly as she got to her knees. "Yours," she whispered, leaning in. She brought her hands up to his face. "I…" Her voice got hung up on the lump in her throat. "I missed you so much."

His lips were warm and just the right amount of wet. His hand went to the back of her neck and tightened as the other found her waist. She trailed her fingers down his neck to his chest, resting them where his heart beat against his shirt. It felt good - God, so good - to be kissing him again. To have him kissing her - wholeheartedly, hungrily, and lots of other descriptive words that she would have come up with if she'd had a few more minutes.

She didn't, though. Kissing time was over. Someone was standing over them - quite impatiently, in fact. Graham, muttering, "About fucking time."

The second she and Riley pulled apart, Graham dropped to his knees. He threw his arms around Riley in one of those hugs that guys only allowed each other when they'd just won some big game. Or when their best friend came back from the dead.

Graham grabbed on tight and shook his head, his voice thick with emotion as he murmured, "You're an asshole. A fucking asshole. Next time I tell you to stand down…"

Buffy let go of Riley's hand only at the last possible moment, just as Brady and Sprague flew past her, tackling Riley and Graham. Riley disappeared from sight, catching her eye and grinning as he went down.

"And they say women are emotional." Ana's voice came from just over Buffy's shoulder.

Turning, Buffy saw Ana and Willow approaching, Willow making a beeline to Buffy, asking, "Are you o.k.?"

"Yes," Buffy answered, thinking it was mostly the truth. She had a feeling it wasn't quite that simple, that true 'normal' wasn't quite so easy to restore. The alternative - the without Riley option - was pure suckiness, however.

Willow wasn't fooled by the easy answer, though, and Buffy lost a few minutes encircled by Willlow's arms - trembling as she realized how much she'd nearly just lost. Flat out shaking as the emotions of the last twenty-four hours reared their heads, not to mention the almost overbearing responsibility to Riley's kids. A virtual panoply of stress.

She didn't snap out of it until she felt Willow tense and murmur, "Oh… Buffy."

Every Slayer instinct sprung to life as Buffy pulled back to see what new threat had brought about that reaction.

Except that no one else seemed to be on high alert: Ana, Sprague, and Brady were already making their way back up the slope of the beach, laughing and joking as they walked. Joe was sitting at the campfire smoking. And Graham and Riley were standing behind her, Graham telling Riley that Ana thought she could have a working com-cam in another ten minutes or so.

Buffy turned back to Willow, about to ask what was wrong when she realized Willow was staring at Riley, hand over her mouth and eyes wide, looking like she'd seen a ghost.

It took Buffy a few seconds to realize that, in a way, she had. It had been fifteen years since Willow had seen Riley. Sure, there had been that videoconference thing a couple weeks before, but seeing someone on a TV screen wasn't really the same as seeing them standing a few feet away from you.

Willow reached her hand out, saying, "Riley," in the most reserved, tenured-professor kind of way.

Good restraint, Will. Especially when Buffy knew that inside Willow was practically jumping up and down.

A yelp escaped Willow's mouth and she clapped her hands and giggled. She poked Buffy in the shoulder. "That's Riley!" As Riley looked up and grinned, Willow walked over and threw her arms around him. "You're actually Riley. Xander is going to freak. And Giles..." Willow shook her head as she pulled back. "My God."

Yes. Speaking of which... Buffy looked up toward the campfire to where Joe sat with the others. Turning on her heel, she very deliberately strode up towards the others, hearing Riley call out from behind her, "Is not!" He was obviously still under the mistaken impression that Joe had just been playing some random celestial being.

"Is too," she replied, smiling. It was so much better to be disagreeing about something unimportant - like whether or not they'd actually been in the presence of God. Which they had been, by the way. As she was about to prove. "Joe," she snapped.

"Buffy." Joe looked up warily, his eyes going from Buffy to Riley, Graham, and Willow as they came up behind her.

"We have a bit of a score to settle." She crouched down so that she was at his eye level. "What was the deal back there - the real thing, or just an angel?"

The problem with someone who always seemed like he was laughing was that when he was actually serious, it was even harder to believe him. "You know what I'm talking about. When we were back..." She waved her hand in the air. "...There. You, Riley, Kasey, me. What was-?"

Not now, Graham. Offhandedly, she answered, "The Princess." Back to Joe, she said, "So what-?"

Brady added, "You called her Kasey? You called a trillions' old legend 'Kasey'? How'd that come up? Was she just like, 'Call me-'"

He obviously had no more interest in discussing it than Buffy did in hearing it in front of all these people. "So, Joe-"

"You spoke to her?" Joe said, with awe in his voice. "You spoke to Kaseniiosta?"

Oh, for Heaven's sake. Sam's sainthood was one thing, but now Buffy had to hear about the holier than thou Kasey? "You spoke to her, too. Or did you forget?"

Graham shook his head. "Joe was with us the whole time. And I'm a hundred percent positive that we didn't run into any princesses."

Well, o.k., not really a setback. In fact, it made even more sense. Why bother stepping into someone's body when you could just create the body all over again?

Graham looked at them both suspiciously, although he clearly decided to let it go. Unfortunately, he moved on to a more delicate subject. "Sam? Was she involved?"

Letting that go, too, Graham said, "The Maymaygwayshi? All those guys we were fighting? It's why they didn't really die?"

"And you doubted me." Joe poked at the fire with a stick as he started to laugh.

It was infectious. And Buffy was in a good mood, the Riley-being-here thing hitting her in its totality. She couldn't help but grin. "Never."

As in the markings that the Princess painted all over the men's bodies, showing exactly how well she'd gotten to know them?

Buffy was perfectly fine with the thought of Kasey using Riley's body as her canvas. Of Kasey drawing intricate markings all over his skin.

Buffy made damn sure there was a bright smile on her face when Riley looked up at her as he answered, "Yes."

Still, she was glad that Ana got the com-cam working right at that moment, giving everyone a thumbs up as she said, "Hearing you loud and clear, Brooks. Do we have an ETA on our ride home?"

Riley sank down and sat next to Ana; he suddenly seemed very tired - and a little overwhelmed.

Honestly? If the roles were reversed and Buffy had just been through what he'd been through? The last thing she'd want was her new girlfriend being all clingy right about now. But there was no way in hell she was going to let him just sit there as the reality of what had happened started to hit him. She wasn't going to fail him again. She would be there for him, really be there this time. Not in a your-whole-world-fell-apart-but-you'd-better-be-over-it-by-the-end-of-the-summer-'cause-I'll-be-on-to-my-own-thing-by-then kind of way; no - in a long-term way.

Buffy sat down and rested her hand on his knee, leaned her head against his shoulder. She had to close her eyes, though. The reality was hitting her, too, and she had a feeling that this sudden need to touch him - to hang on tight and not ever let go - was only going to get worse. Luckily, if the way he pulled her close against him was any indication, he didn't seem to mind.

Buffy could feel Riley tense. His warmth was suddenly gone as he lurched forward and grabbed Ana, unhappily asking, "Dead? What do you mean 'dead'?"

"My kids..." Riley urged Ana, agitated as he cut Graham off. "Tell Brooks I need to talk to my kids." His knuckles whitened as his hand tightened on Ana's arm.

With a glance at Graham, Ana nodded and relayed the message to Brooks. Though she looked uncomfortable, she didn't pull away. Buffy reached for his hand and pried his fingers off. "Riley..."

His reaction surprised her - hadn't he expected something like this? What did he think they'd all been doing for the last few days?

"I didn't-" Buffy forced herself to take a deep breath and not take his reaction personally. He was probably barely maintaining sanity right now. A little lashing out was hardly unexpected.

And, thinking back to the first thing he'd asked - the 'How long have I been here' question - she was belatedly realizing that he'd asked with absolutely no idea of what her answer would be, that he'd had no awareness that four full days had passed. The implication being that as far as he knew, there was no reason for his kids to even have been aware that he was gone.

"Maybe you could have started with 'missing'?" He yanked his hand away. "Give them at least a little something to hold on to?"

"Oh, and 'missing' is going to make it all better?" she snapped. O.k. Hadn't meant to jump on him like that. She mumbled, "Trust me. It's just as bad."

That didn't seem to lessen his concern. There was practically fire coming out of his mouth as he hissed, "They've already lost-"

"We found a body, Ri," Graham said softly, crouching down in front of Riley. "Your funeral's the day after tomorrow."
"My..." Riley seemed completely dumbfounded. "My what?"

Graham looked at his watch. "It was supposed to be about eight hours ago. And, yes, I feel like shit for making your mom and dad wait the extra two days." He sat down. "I was hoping the end result would be worth it."

Buffy wasn't sure if Riley even heard what Graham had just said. He was still reacting to the first part, looking at her and asking, "They found a body?"

She nodded, her hand instinctively going to where her chain would have been if she hadn't yanked it off and lost it back in the rainbow. "With your ring."

Riley looked down at his clenched fist; his ring stood out in stark relief. The anger seemed to fade as he considered what Graham had just said. His eyes narrowed a bit. "On making my parents wait?" There was a definite emphasis on the word, 'parents.' He had clearly noticed that Graham hadn't expressed a similar concern about his kids.

His eyes going from Graham to Buffy to Graham again, Riley continued, "What happened?" He turned back to Buffy. "What did Kate dream?"

Not that she hadn't intended on mentioning it to Riley at some point; it just hadn't seemed the time to break the news that his kids were quite familiar with the family business. It was easier to answer Graham than Riley. "Sam mentioned it."

"Sam?" Sighing, Graham ran his hand through his hair. "This is going to be one hell of a debriefing."

"Kate's dream?" Riley repeated. He seemed resigned to that fact that he wasn't going to like the answer.

As apologetically as she could, Buffy smiled. "Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

"Buffy..." Riley was obviously not at all in the mood for stalling, not even when it came to prettily batting eyelashes.

Buffy looked up at Willow, who was absolutely no help. The others all just shrugged and conveniently found other things to occupy their attention.

O.k. Fine. "The good news is that your kids seem to have complete confidence that we'll be bringing you home."

Hmmm. The way Riley was folding his arms across his chest and looking at her in a somewhat annoyed fashion wasn't a good sign. Nor was the way he asked, "That's the good news?" He obviously would have been on Dawn's side of the 'you-told-them-you'd-do-what?' camp.

So - anyway, "The bad news is that Kate seems to have a bit of a prophetic streak in her."

Yes. He seemed to agree that that was the worse of the two evils, closing his eyes and muttering something that contained a lot of words that weren't really mentionable.

Luckily, he was spared further consideration of the fact when Ana held out the com-cam. "Sir. Brooks has your mother on the line."

Riley just looked at the com-cam, hesitating before taking it from Ana's outstretched hand. That was understandable. Though the object was obviously to let Mary know that her son was alive, the goal would hopefully be achieved without giving her a heart attack when she heard Riley's voice.

Closing his eyes, Riley ducked his head. He adjusted the earpiece and listened to something Brooks was saying. Nodding, he replied, "Yeah. O.k. Now's as good a time as any, I guess."

Buffy started to get up, intending to follow the others as they moved away to give Riley some privacy. He blindly reached for her hand, though, and pulled her back down as he softly spoke. Not even bothering with a greeting of any kind, his voice calmly lapsed into a soothing storytelling mode, somehow not betraying the tension Buffy could feel throughout his entire body.

Into the com-cam he said, "You remember when I was ten and you were driving me to a game? There was this truck in front of us - it flattened a squirrel. I mean, totally flattened it." He gripped Buffy's hand, but didn't stop speaking. "And then the squirrel just got up and ran away. As if nothing had ever happened."

Turning so that she could see his face, Buffy wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

He glanced down at her, his tension slowly dissipating as he continued talking to his mom. "You turned to look at me and I was so sure you were going to try and explain it away." There was a touch of laughter - a kind of emotional laughter - before he added, "Except all you said was that sometimes things just don't make sense."

Threading his fingers through Buffy's hair, he pulled her to him and rested his forehead against hers. "Well, Mom, this might seem as if it doesn't make sense." There were a few beats of silence before Riley gruffly spoke again. "Yeah. I'm coming home."

Riley's conversation with his mother lasted all of two minutes. Actually, 'conversation' wasn't even the right word; it was more of Riley listening as Mary woke up the kids, and then his trying to be heard over their screams - ones that Buffy assumed were happy this time.

He was cut off by the appearance of the two helicopters, swooping down past the tops of the trees - one to take Ana, Sprague, and Brady back to Quetico to help Brooks pack everything up; the other to get Riley home. Buffy figured that Brooks had kept them on standby, using the com-cam as the tracking signal the second Ana got it up and running again.

Looking up, Riley said into the com-cam, "Get some sleep. I'll wake you up when I get home."

Riley didn't answer at first, taking a long look around. "You know, there's something about this place. It's kind of weird to be leaving."

Speak for yourself, she thought. Personally, she couldn't wait to get out of here.

She didn't say that, of course. No matter what had happened, Quetico would always be important to him; it would always be the place where he'd said good-bye to Sam.

"You could always come back," Joe said, coming up behind them. "There's a whole lot of park you never got to see. I hear kids like it, too."

Since Buffy knew that all four Finn children were in their house thousands of miles away and that Joe had never had any contact with them, it was clear Riley was talking about Sam.

Buffy stood more slowly, a bit unsettled. For the first time in three weeks, she was thinking of Sam as a part of that family unit - as a living, breathing, non-dead part of that unit. The part of that unit that Joe probably knew better than Buffy did, considering he'd practically spent an entire day with her. Or, at least, with Riley's dreams of her - with Riley's vivid, intense dreams of his wife.

Not that Buffy had been thinking that there'd been an opening which no longer needed to be filled; it was just that her definition of Riley's 'family' was his kids and his parents. The last twenty-four hours put a new - not entirely desirable - spin on things.

Though Riley didn't miss a beat, Buffy could tell he was paying particular attention everything she did. Not really in a suspicious way, as he had when he first saw her not even an hour ago; more as though he were gauging her reactions, trying to figure out where the landmines were.

"I said," he repeated in the most innocuous way possible, "what do you think about that? Next summer - bringing the kids out here."

That sent her reeling for completely different reasons. In the beginning, after the whole 'play for keeps' talk, Buffy had blithely used the word 'stepmother.' Now that she was a little deeper in, she realized it had all been in abstract; that she'd never really considered herself as part of Riley's domestic picture. What he had just said sounded so odd to her. Much, much too grown-up; laden with an entirely different kind of responsibility than the kind she was used to.

Of course, if she stopped to think about it, it would probably be kind of fun to see Liam speed through the rapids and catch some air - better than he could with any skateboard. And she and Jack could trade stories over the campfire - she'd take the vampires; he could cover the ghosts. Not to mention that Buffy was absolutely positive that she and Kate would kill Annie and Riley in a canoe race.

She could feel a grin coming on. "Next summer?" It certainly didn't hurt that Riley's asking also meant that despite his own ups and downs - despite having just held the woman he'd buried eight years before - he was still thinking long-term. He was thinking they could get past the warrior princesses and ethereal wives and just somehow be normal. Together. "I think I could be up for that."

"Yeah?" A slow smile broke over his face. He had obviously seen the panic in her eyes; seen it change into something... grown-up. Turning back to Joe, he said, "Next summer then. Count on it."

The two men shook hands. For once, Joe didn't look amused; he just looked happy.

So, Buffy, don't blow the mood by crying when you reach for his arm and say, "Thank you."

Given the magnitude of what she owed him, the words sounded so completely inadequate. If it weren't for Joe, she wouldn't be standing here right now. Nor, probably, would Riley. And the guy hadn't even gotten his own com-cam out of it. She'd have to figure out an appropriate substitute.

The Joe she knew came back, laughter shining bright in his eyes. As though he'd heard her thoughts - which she wouldn't put past him given that almost everyone in these parts seemed to be able to - he answered, "I'd like to visit Boston someday, maybe Cape Cod. I hear they have some nice sunsets there."

She couldn't help but look up at Riley as she grabbed at his hand, remembering the things he'd promised her the day of the bear. "So I've been told." That was a vacation they'd be taking alone. No kids. Grown-ups only. Turning attention back to Joe, she added, "Come visit any time. I have plenty of room."

Joe nodded and started to turn away. He hesitated for a minute and then turned back, gazing directly into Buffy's eyes. "A Saturday in October. That would be a good day."

Against all possible odds, she heard Bette Midler's voice carried by the wind as Joe walked away.

No way, she thought, the smile dawning on her face. That was what you call proof. She only barely resisted doing a Snoopy dance. Turning to Riley, she asked, "Do you hear that?"

Buffy put her arms around Riley's neck, deciding not to notice the delay in his hands going to her waist. She was on a high right now; she'd concentrate on his grin instead. "Wind beneath my wings, Baby. Wind beneath my wings."

Riley didn't even try to pretend that he had any idea of what she was talking about. "Am I supposed to get that?"

"You will." She nuzzled his neck and started to work her way up his jaw. "But that is so not important right now." Reaching his ear, she murmured, "What is important, is that the only way Joe could possibly have known that is if he had a direct link to..." She pulled back and pointed up at the sky, laughing when Riley rolled his eyes.

Forget the Snoopy dance. Clasping her hands above her head, she gave Riley a dance all of his own, singing, "I told you so, I told you so..."

He grinned, obviously not minding her moving against him. Before he had a chance to concede, though - which she was sure he would have, given the evidence - Graham yelled, "People - could we get the hell out of here?" Unhappily, he added, "And could someone please tell me why I have bad eighties music running through my head?"

Buffy opened her eyes, surprised to see that they had already touched down. Had she really slept for almost the entire trip? She felt all out of sorts, which was probably why it seemed to her that Riley's voice was just a little too hearty when he answered, "Yeah. Thanks for the ride." He unbuckled himself and jumped out of his seat, walking ahead with the pilots and being way too sociable for someone who had just been through, well, whatever he'd been through.

Buffy took a deep breath and forced herself to move. Riley's job meant he had to schmooze all the time; this was just normal. She was sure she just imagining it.

At the moment, Graham certainly wasn't acting like anything was wrong. He was laughing at Willow's attempt to jump out of the helicopter without falling on her face while Willow muttered something about flattening the darn helicopter and showing it who really had the power.

Still, Buffy kept her eyes on Riley the whole way across the tarmac and through the parking lot. He seemed so tired as he leaned against Graham's car, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

Um... Buffy looked at Graham and Willow. They just shrugged as she answered, "No."

Now that was more like it. Buffy's voices were mostly quiet, too. She smiled. "Yes. It does."

Graham let his backpack fall from his shoulder and reached in to get his keys. "You two are weird." Stepping forward, he clasped Riley's shoulder and shook his head. "Man, this is... This is kind of unreal."

He pulled back and grinned at Buffy, leaning down and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Nice to have you on the team." Just when she was feeling all warm and fuzzy, he looked at his watch and added, "The debriefing's in about eight hours. Drink a lot of coffee. I have a feeling it's gonna be a long one." Turning to Willow, he asked, "Ready?"

To Buffy's surprise, Willow nodded. There had clearly been a previous discussion about Graham taking her home.

Willow gave Riley a long, hard hug, saying, "Make sure you wear your seatbelt. After all this, it would really suck if you became a casualty of Buffy's driving."

"Gee, Will, thanks," Buffy said. Nothing like having your best friend be behind you one hundred percent.

The hug Buffy got was much quicker, but no less intense. Willow took a step back and smiled as she looked at Buffy and Riley. "This is nice," she said. "I like this." Turning to Graham, she pulled at his arm. "Come on. Sarah said there'd be cake."
Riley watched the two of them get into Graham's car. "When did that happen?"

"Them being all buddy-buddy." Riley said. He waved as they drove off. "And how does Willow know Sarah?"

Buffy shrugged in a way that she hoped came off as nonchalant. "It's been kind of intense around here."

His hand dropping to his side, Riley glanced down at the ground. "Yeah, intense. That's a good way to put it."

Nice way to open the can of worms, Buff. And yet... "Will you tell me about it?"

Stepping close, Riley put his hand through her hair. "Whatever you want to know. Just..." He seemed to notice something on his arm. "Not tonight, o.k.?"

He pulled his hand away, looking uncomfortable. "I don't suppose there's any chance you carry spare clothes around with you?" He tried to smile. "I'm kind of sick of this shirt."

Of course she had spares - didn't everyone? Nothing was worse than running into a Steesprug demon - the ones who spewed mucous and spit as soon as you got within a few feet of them - on your way to the movies and having nothing to change into. Easy question.

Well, mostly easy; they were Angel's clothes after all. She supposed it was lucky they were even still in the car, though she wasn't sure why she hadn't sent them back to L.A. yet; maybe because she hadn't quite been willing to admit that she was really living on the other side of the country now. Until a few weeks ago, she hadn't really been sure she wanted to stay.
Walking around to the back of her car, she pulled the key out from under the bumper and unlocked the trunk, reaching in and pulling out a gym bag.

Riley obviously wasn't at all surprised that the clothes inside it weren't hers; he hadn't been asking because he was just dying to wear her fuzzy pink sweater.

She closed the trunk and leaned back against it as Riley looked around, probably trying to find a better place to change. Given that they were one of only a few cars in a fairly large parking lot at the edge of a huge expanse of tarmac in the middle of the night, he came to the conclusion that this was as good a place as any. Still, he hesitated before beginning to undress.

There was no one around, and it wasn't as though he'd be showing her anything she hadn't already seen. So why was he-?

No. Don't look for problems. "You know, your clothes don't really look like you've been wearing them for four days, so if you don't want to change..."

Her words kind of trailed off towards the end because she began to wonder why, exactly, his clothes didn't look more worn. A little battered, maybe; a tear or two from the fight. Not, however, worn. "You were..." There was a sinking feeling in her stomach. "You were wearing clothes that whole time, weren't you?"

Geez, Buffy. Jealous shrew much? So maybe not so fine with the Kasey having her hands all over him thing.

'Pretty much?' Not the unequivocal 'yes' she'd been hoping for. From the way he smiled, though, it was clear he wasn't trying to hide anything from her. Not in that sense at least. O.k., so then why was he still just standing there?

Of course, she realized. The markings. The ones that were about to make clear just exactly how close he and Kasey had gotten.

Buffy folded her arms across her chest and looked down. "I'm gonna find out sooner or later."

"Yeah," he said softly, sounding like he was gearing up to tell someone something really sad, in a 'your puppy's been hit by a car' kind of way.

She looked up to see him staring at her. Standing up, she started to move away. "If you'd rather I-"

"No," he replied. "I just..." He shook his head and then, resigned, he pulled his shirt off, quickly reaching for Angel's sweater.

"Wait." Buffy took a deep breath, reminding herself that in any other situation, she'd find this fascinating, this direct connection to a legendary princess from ancient times. The key words, of course, were 'any,' 'other,' and 'situation.'

Even in the poorly lit parking lot, she could see that the markings covered his arms and most of his chest; that they dipped below his waistband. File that one in the folder marked, 'Ouch.'

Fine. No time like the present to find out. She nodded at him to continue, stepping forward as he unbuttoned his pants. "The stripping part is usually a lot more fun," she muttered.

He wisely didn't respond, nor did he make any attempt to touch her as she reached her hand out. He flinched - he actually flinched - when her thumb brushed his skin, tugging a little at his boxers, her hand lingering despite her head telling her that she was fooling herself if she thought she'd ever have him. That chance was lost to her a long time ago.

That Kasey hadn't gotten much further brought only a little bit of relief. Buffy wasn't interested in sharing, no matter what the circumstance. And somehow, with Riley, there was always a circumstance. So much for trust. "You let her."

"I didn't let her do anything." He spat her words back at her, each one punctuated by sharp, tight movements as he pulled Angel's sweater over his head, pushed his arms through the sleeves. The 'let' was particularly clipped.

Had she really thought she'd get the 'happy ever after' ending? Seeing Riley in Angel's sweater was a slap in the face. A pop-up window saying: Did you really think you could have it all? Buffy looked away. "Was this before or after you knew she wasn't Sam?"

Something flashed over his face. Anger? Pain? All he said, though, was, "Before."

It didn't matter. He didn't need to say more. That one word told Buffy all she needed to know. "Because you would have let Sam do whatever she wanted."

Set yourself up for that one, didn't you, Buff? Ironic, that whole role reversal thing.

This would be that point in the conversation where you took a minute to tell yourself that this was just the stress talking, calling up the echo of your former self. That you're not even sure if you believe what you're saying but it's so much a part of you - of you and him - that you can't quite let it go. That you most definitely needed to step back and regroup before saying something really stupid, like, "Does this count as 'evening the score'?"

"Evening what score?" It took Riley a second to catch on. "You mean with Dracula? And...?" He looked down at the sweater he was wearing, obviously realizing she was talking about Angel. Forget exasperated. Now he was downright pissed. "Are you serious? This is so entirely not about that. This wasn't even about us. It was about-"

"Yes, I know," Buffy snapped, with a lot more bitterness than she had any right to have. "Sam. Because everything is." She was 'home.' She pretty much always would be.

Too bad. You make your bed and you lie in it. You choose to share it with someone else.

Biting her lip, Buffy turned quickly, before he could see the tears in her eyes. "Let's get you..." She choked on the word, 'home.' She couldn't quite say that out loud. Without looking back, she walked to the front of the car and got in.

A few minutes later - much longer than seemed necessary to change into new clothes - she could hear and feel the trunk as he slammed it down. She didn't turn when he got into the car. She just sat back and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. I can't believe I said that."

"Yeah, well…" Riley fiddled with something on the car door as he spoke. "Considering I screwed up my entire life when confronted with a similar situation, I think you can be forgiven."

Her head still back against the seat, Buffy turned to look at him. Though he may not have chosen the best way to end things, he wouldn't have gotten Sam otherwise, wouldn't have gotten his children.

Buffy's smile was sad, thinking of the way things might have been; what he'd managed to find while she meandered - mostly aimlessly - through life. "You made a nice recovery."

Not sure what else to say, Buffy leaned forward to start the car. She was startled when he spoke.

"I kind of wish you were right." He looked out the window. "I kind of wish it were all about Sam because then I'd have no reason to feel so Goddamned guilty over how glad I am to be back home."

Right, Buffy thought. Back home. She could take a hint. "I know. You want to see your kids." She started to turn the key.

He unexpectedly grabbed her hand and pulled it away from the ignition. Bending her arm gently, he kissed the inside of her wrist. "Do you honestly think I'd feel guilty if I were only talking about my kids?"

"The markings?" he said. "The ones she painted all over me?" Though he let their hands fall away from his mouth, he didn't let go. "They tell my dreams. What she saw through me."

Buffy shifted so that she could see him. She knew what he was about to say - but God, how she needed to hear him say it.

If it weren't so dark, she had a feeling she'd be seeing him turn a bright shade of pink. A beautiful Northern Lights-evoking bright shade of pink. "Prominently?"

Although he wouldn't meet her eyes, his smile broadened. "Possibly graphically."

Buffy pulled her hand free of his grasp and let it fall to his leg. "How graphically?"

He tried to shrug nonchalantly. That he couldn't pull it off was emphasized by his voice cracking as he answered, "Very."

Although that might have had something to do with the way she was trailing her fingers up the inside of his thigh.
Buffy bit her lip. She knew he wanted to get home - she wanted to get him home - and yet she couldn't help but lean forward and kiss him. And she might not have been able to stop if he hadn't done it for her, pulling back and saying, "Buffy…"

"I know." She quickly turned back to the steering wheel. "That's the last thing you're thinking about."

"Actually, no," he answered with a smile in his voice. "Not the last thing. It just happens to be taking a backseat to the realization of why, exactly, you don't hear much about getting busy in the front seat of a Mercedes convertible." As he shifted uncomfortably, he muttered, "Now, a Chevy pickup. That's the kind of car you can write songs about."

Grinning, she turned back to him, and tilted her head up as he bent down, brushing her lips. It was a full minute before he pulled away again, saying, "O.k. Now we can go."

By the time she pulled onto the highway, he was fast asleep. He stayed that way the entire ride in to the city, until the moment she pulled up in front of his house.

Sitting up straight as the car rolled to a stop, Riley reached for the door handle, hesitating a second before taking a deep breath and opening it. He stepped out and slammed the door shut behind him, walking quickly to the front steps.

Um, o.k., she thought. She'd at least expected a good-bye. But, hey, it had been a long few days. He needed to see his family. She wasn't going to stand in his way.

She shifted the car into gear. "Call me tomorrow," she said, waving to him as he turned to look at her. "Let me know when you're-"

Glancing at the front door, she shook her head. "Your family needs to see you. This isn't the time for outsiders to barge in."

She took a few seconds to think about what he'd just said. "Are you sure?" she asked. "I mean…" Shrugging, she pointed to the sign that was directly in front of her car. The one that basically threatened to take away your firstborn if you even dared to park beneath it. Just to give him an out if he was only doing this out of obligation.

Riley looked up at the sign and then back at her. "I actually have some pull in government circles. I could probably get your ticket taken care of." His smile came easily as he answered her original question. "Yes, I'm sure."

She looked up at the front door again, thinking that the rest of the household might not feel the same way. Still, she smiled. "O.k."

Turning the key, she pulled it out of the ignition and followed him as he walked up the steps. She was so focused on convincing herself that, Yes, she belonged here, that it took her a minute or two to notice that they were standing there, not making any move to go in. She turned to look at him and almost broke down when she saw his face.

All traces of happiness were gone; he was obviously fighting for composure. Noticing Buffy's glance, he looked away. "Sam would always... She always forgot her keys when she was away on a trip. I always figured she did it deliberately just so she could wake everyone up at two in the morning and have an excuse to eat ice cream. The kids..." His voice caught. "They loved it."

"I hated it," he continued. "I was always thinking that one day it wouldn't be her ringing the doorbell. It would be someone else, telling me she wasn't coming back." He closed his eyes. "Funny that the thing you dread never happens quite the way you expect it to."

"Riley..." Buffy put her arms around him and leaned her head against his chest, hugging him tightly as he struggled to breathe, probably being slammed by the fact that he'd essentially been widowed all over again. This was mourning, pure and simple; when every little thing reminded you of how wrong things had gone.

Every teensy little thing. She looked up at him, and smiled sadly. "You have no idea where your keys are, do you?"

Come to think of it, she didn't either. Graham probably had all Riley's stuff. Or Brooks, maybe, back in Quetico. "I think this once you'd be forgiven for ringing the doorbell."

"Yeah." He pulled away from her and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. After a deep breath, he leaned forward and rang the bell.

Within seconds, the door swung open, and he disappeared into a sea of bodies, into a sea of yelling, screaming bodies, pulling him in.

After a moment's hesitation, Buffy followed them in, closing the door behind her.

It was like walking into a Norman Rockwell painting. No, not like walking into it. That implied being part of it. So maybe more like walking into a museum and seeing the painting come to life in front of your eyes.

'Coming Home,' the picture would be called - the four beautiful children surrounding their father as he clung to each of them in turn; as he gathered them around him and didn't let go - not for a good, long time.

Not until Mary pushed her way through, unable to resist any longer. Even Gavin, who didn't seem like an overly demonstrative man, finally got into it, clinging to his son for several minutes before mumbling something about promising to call Riley's brothers the second he stepped foot in the door.

As she turned her head, Buffy could see Gavin reach the end of the hall, making it almost all the way to the kitchen before stopping to lean against the wall, trembling. He put his hand to his mouth and bowed his head briefly before continuing on.
She glanced behind her for the door handle, just to make sure she knew where it was; just in case it became necessary to unobtrusively slip away. When she turned back, though, she realized Annie was standing in front of her.

The girl reached out tentatively, tearfully saying, "This is..." She shook her head, smiling despite her tears. "You brought him back. You really did it."

Annie's arms were suddenly around her. Buffy returned the hug awkwardly, still feeling very much the interloper, the intruder in this perfectly contained cocoon.

Until she felt Liam's arms go around her, then Jack's. And it began to occur to her that she was holding them as tightly as they held her.

No, not just that she was holding them, but that it felt as though she was meant to. That it felt as though she'd come home.

It seemed almost too soon when Mary's voice rang out loudly. "Two scoops each - no more, no less. Annie's in charge of hot fudge, Kate takes care of whipped cream. And I decide how many cherries everyone gets." Her voice faded as she disappeared into the kitchen. "Anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with the management."

It was like a tornado came through, taking Annie, Liam and Jack with it as it left. The three kids followed Mary down the hall in a whirlwind of energy and laughter, leaving a contented silence in their wake.

Buffy looked up at Riley, unable to keep the smile off her face. Even seeing the way Kate possessively held on to Riley couldn't dampen her mood, although - to be honest - if Kate told her to go, Buffy wouldn't fight it. Not tonight. No matter what Riley said.

Except that Kate did nothing of the sort. Instead she stepped forward and grinned. "If you become my stepmother? This might never happen again. But…" She threw her arms around Buffy, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like, "Thank you."

Buffy was so stunned that it was an effort to keep her mouth from dropping open. It didn't help that when she looked over Kate's head - well, o.k., around Kate's head; the girl was already several inches taller than Buffy - anyway, it didn't help that when she looked past Kate at Riley, he raised his arms above his head and did a pitiful imitation of her 'I told you so' dance as he worked his way down the hall.

A second later, Kate was gone, running after him, leaving Buffy standing all by herself in the front hallway. All by herself and yet not alone.

Annie stepped out into the hallway, asking Buffy what kind of ice cream she wanted.