"Black Or White"

Author: Alexandra Huxley
Email: alexandrahuxley@yahoo.com
Notes: Many thanks to Moe and Cynthia for beta-ing and to everyone who asked for more.

Riley snapped the phone shut and threw it on the dashboard. "No signal. No fucking signal." It had been over an hour since Xander called from the hospital. The phone had cut out while Xander was still talking, not that it mattered much, since Riley barely registered anything after the first few words.

"What did he say?" Graham asked, eyes on the road, not sure what was worse - the daze Riley had been in for the hour since the phone call or the frantic, nervous energy that had overtaken him in the last ten minutes.

"They're working on her."

"And?"

"'They're doing everything they can,'" Riley said bitterly, staring out the window. He turned to Graham. "How many times you think we've said that this year? Ten? Fifteen?"

"Eighteen," Graham replied without looking over. That weren't DOA, at least. And those were the ones who made it as far as a hospital.

"And what - three of them made it?"

Two, but Graham wasn't going to mention that. "Don't do this, Riley. She's the Slayer; she's different."

Riley grabbed at the phone and tried it again. "Damn it! Command.?"

Graham just shook his head. They had been no help.

Except for Riley drumming his fingers against the armrest, it was quiet for another twenty minutes until he asked, "How much further? Why is this taking so long?"

Graham counted to ten silently before replying, "Twelve miles."

This side of Riley didn't make itself known that often, but when it did, there were only a few ways of dealing with it: fists flying until the blood was flowing; find Sam and let her deal with him; or - the only option available to Graham at the moment - patience.

"Who's flying us in?"

"China Lake." For most of the time Riley had been off in his own world, Graham had been working the radio. No choppers were available from the Base - some were deployed, some were being used for training, and the rest were undergoing maintenance. Graham had some pull, but not enough to commandeer a bird because his best friend's ex-girlfriend - girlfriend? Who really knew when it came to those two? - had been shot. Even if that best friend was Agent Riley Finn.

Or maybe because of who the best friend was. The officer in charge of the transports lost a brother when the Initiative fell, and although Riley had spent the last year earning back his reputation, no one had forgotten the part he played and some still blamed him for everything that went down. Graham had specifically not mentioned Buffy's name for that very reason, but it hadn't mattered. There were enough people out there who hated Riley purely for Riley's sake.

But there were other options. One of the pilots for the China Lake Mountain Rescue Group had flown for Graham down in Brazil. After leaving the service, she had come home to California. Graham had called her hoping she'd know of someone he could hire, but even better - she had just been asked to fly a team out to the canyons north of L.A. in case the wildfires got too much out of control. If Graham could make it in time, she'd squeeze them in.

The helicopter's blades were already whirling by the time Graham pulled up. Riley was out of the car before Graham had fully stopped. Within a few minutes, they were on their way.

Buffy was alive.

Riley knew it the second he stepped in the emergency room and saw the looks on the cops' faces. Utter confusion. Completely and totally baffled, not to mention helpless and unneeded. A look Riley knew from seeing it on every soldier who had ever come across Buffy, including himself, and for the first time in hours he felt like he could breathe. Not deep life-restoring breaths by any means - those looks didn't necessarily mean everything was o.k. - but enough oxygen was now getting through for the dizziness to go away.

He didn't bother with the uniforms, but instead went over to the guy with the rumpled jacket and bad tie. He handed his badge over and waited until the detective was satisfied it was real before asking what happened.

"I still don't know," said a man dressed in scrubs.

"And you are?" Riley asked.

"Dr. Boden." He had the same confused look as the cops. "A girl came in while we were stabilizing the patient. She told us to leave. And we did. I have no idea why, but we did."

"Buffy?" Graham asked. He had seen the relief on Riley's face but couldn't understand why it was there. As far as Graham was concerned, there was no new information since they had arrived.

The detective answered. "Buffy Summers was the patient. We don't know who the other girl is."

"*Was* the patient?" Graham said, eyes on Riley. "What happened to her?"

"Gone."

Riley's heart leapt into his throat. That wasn't the answer he expected to hear - his gut was telling him that she was alive and usually his gut was right

"Gone where?" he asked, ignoring the look Graham gave him. Graham was clearly trying to think of a way to explain how the whole death thing worked.

The policeman shrugged. "No clue. Upped and walked out of here. Her and the girl and the guy that brought her in."

O.k. Breathing now. For real this time. "You're going to have to explain a little better. Last information we had was that it didn't look good."

Boden said, "I wish I could explain it. The bullet did some damage. A lot of internal bleeding. It makes no sense. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes." He looked stunned. "But she walked right past me. She was completely healed - no blood, no wound. The girl. Her eyes." He shook his head. "She must have done something."

Completely healed. No blood, no wound. Riley wasn't on the best of terms with God these days, but at that moment he would have gladly sung Handel's "Messiah" right there in the middle of the ER at the top of his lungs. If that wouldn't be the most ridiculous sight ever, that is.

"The girl. Describe her," Riley said.

"I can't. I just remember her eyes. They were so. black."

They weren't able to get much more out of him. They interviewed everyone else who had been in the room and they all said pretty much the same thing: they were trying to stop the bleeding and keep Buffy alive long enough to get her into surgery. They were told to leave and they left, almost as though they had no will to resist, much less to look at the person who had told them to go. It was a girl and everything about her was black - eyes, hair, clothes.

That was it.

Riley couldn't figure out who the girl was that they were talking about. Anya? Could Anya have her powers back? Even if she did, would she use them to help Buffy? Because it had to be something like that. Even Buffy didn't heal that fast. Maybe given a day or two, but not in a matter of hours.

Besides, there was more to it. This girl made something happen. The way the witnesses described her eyes would have been enough to convince Riley. He had seen eyes like that plenty of times, most recently being the shamans right before.

Shit.

Willow?

No. Not possible. She wasn't doing magic any more. Besides, they said black hair. Willow's hair definitely wasn't black.

He couldn't get the image out of his head. Too much magic. Air crackling. Suffocating darkness. A deafening roar of sound as hot flashes of light seared the ground. And two men fading into nothingness as they were overcome. No, not fading - fading made it sound peaceful. It was as far from peaceful as you could get - a violent, brutal, vicious implosion sucking in the life from all around.

Please not Willow.

"Do you have security tapes?" he asked one of the nurses.

She looked around. "I don't know. I never really thought about it."

Graham's radio crackled. "Go ahead," he said, heading to the other side of the break room where they were doing the interviews.

Riley said to the nurse, "Who would know?"

He was writing down the name she gave him when Graham came back.

"We need to go," Graham said. He turned to the detective who had been standing against the wall the whole time. "Can you get the tapes? Get copies to us?"

The detective straightened up, looking none too happy. If these kids wanted to come in and ask a lot of questions that was one thing, and the tall one did have a certain air of authority about him, but running the show? Pricks. "I'll have to clear it with my Captain. I'm not sure who has jurisdiction here."

Riley stood up and pulled out a business card. He scrawled his cell phone number on it. "I think you'll find that we do. Call me when the tapes are ready."

It was already dark out when they left the ER. A familiar looking black SUV pulled up, driven by one of the soldiers who worked for Riley. Riley turned to Graham. "What's going on?"

Graham said, "Paxton tried to reach you but your phone's off. He called in to Command. They said to report in."

Riley grabbed his phone out of his pocket. He had forgotten it had been off since they left the desert. The chopper had been too loud to hear it anyway. There were two messages. One was from Dawn asking for a ride home from Janice's - a total sham since she could easily walk home from there in all of ten minutes. Her motives were pretty clear - driving lesson or ice cream. Or Belgian waffles, considering the time she called. He thought she'd like the hole-in-the-wall diner he had taken her to last week, just hadn't expected her to want to go there five times in three days. She really hated the stuff that Buffy brought home from work. He had a sneaking suspicion that Dawn hadn't been quite as happy as Buffy was when she got her job back.

The other call was from Paxton. They had gotten two odd readings right here in Sunnydale. They hadn't thought much of the first one, but when the second one came in, they thought they should find Riley.

Riley called Dawn at the house first. She obviously hadn't known about Buffy being shot when she left the message, but that was hours ago, she must know by now. Even if she didn't, at least this time if she asked what was happening he wasn't going to have to lie about it. He had understood why Buffy didn't want Dawn to know how bad things were with their mom, but he had hated not coming clean. Now, though? 'I have no fucking clue' would be the God's honest truth.

No answer. He tried her at Janice's but they said she had left much earlier. So not at home and not at Janice's, which probably meant she was at Spike's. And since Riley didn't have anything to actually tell her, there was no way in hell he was going to Spike's.

He wasn't even going to think about Buffy being there. Because she obviously wasn't home either, not that Riley thought she would be - something very weird was happening and except for a quick trip home for weapons, it was unlikely she'd be just hanging around. And although he was probably going to have to deal with the Spike thing sooner or later - there was something there between them, no matter how much he'd like to believe otherwise - now wasn't that time. For so many reasons.

He called Buffy's house again. Still no answer. Unsurprising given that it was only a few minutes since the last time he had called.

Riley jumped when Graham spoke.

"He wasn't there?" Graham asked.

"What?"

"Paxton. He wasn't there? No one answered?"

"Oh. No. I didn't call him yet." He didn't have to turn around to know Graham was shaking his head. It was hard to switch gears, but there was nothing he could do for Dawn right now, or for Buffy when it came down to it. And he actually did have a job to do, which he wouldn't for much longer if he didn't get his act together. He turned to the guy driving. "So, Nelson - what's Paxton going to tell me?"

"Don't know, sir."

"Were you there when the readings came in?"

"Yes, sir."

"Any indication of what they're about?"

"No, sir."

God, this was like pulling teeth. "You have permission to speak freely, Nelson," Riley said.

"Sir?"

"You know, like a normal person. Just go ahead and tell me what happened." Riley didn't have to look back to know that Graham was smiling.

"Do it, Nelson," Graham said. "He won't shut up unless you tell him. Just be careful he doesn't get you court-martialed. Some people think he talks too much."

Graham's tone was light, but Riley could hear the warning in the words. Graham had been behind Riley one hundred percent during the last year, well, ninety-five percent at least, but Riley knew that the command at Sunnydale was a test. One that not everyone wanted him to pass. Just the opposite, in fact. He figured part of the reason they put him here was because of how easy it would be to fail - millions of dollars' worth of equipment, a desk job, thirty rookies, and the Hellmouth, not to mention the Slayer ex-girlfriend and the vamps. No way that added up to a winning number.

And it was no accident that Sam hadn't been assigned here with him. They just probably never figured that she'd handle things the way she did - no one at Command ever was able to understand her. Other than Graham and Riley, no one had ever really had to.

But Riley figured that they didn't assign her here because it would force an issue between them, the separation being the very least of the possible problems, with Buffy and the vamps on the other end of the spectrum. Someone had been sick enough to jack up the tension just enough so that if Riley failed, he'd lose everything. Well, that someone was going to be mighty disappointed.

"Nelson?" Riley asked.

"Yes, sir. Two energy surges. The first one was really strong, but by the time we tried to pinpoint it, it was gone. The second one wasn't quite as strong and it was only about thirty seconds. Paxton thought you'd want to know, so we tried to call you but you didn't pick up. And you *always* pick up," Nelson said, a flush rising up his neck as Riley looked up sharply. "I mean, that's kind of cool that you answered even though it was the middle of the night and your girlfriend was there. Everybody thought so. That it was cool, I mean. Jordan needed to be put in his place. He likes the graveyard shift because he never has to do anything. He's lazy, umm, sir."

That brought about a loud laugh from Graham as he reached forward and clapped Nelson on the shoulder. "Now *that's* what I call speaking freely." He looked at Riley. "You did ask for it." He sat back, still laughing.

Riley glared at Graham. "The surges?" he asked Nelson, wishing he had chosen another word to use when Nelson started laughing, too. "Nelson?"

"Right. So Paxton thought it was weird that you didn't answer 'cause Tonopah said you'd been released from the Infirmary but they said they'd track Major Miller down. He told them to go ahead because the sensors started going crazy again. And then we found out you were already back in Sunnydale. So they sent me out to get you. Sir."

"O.k. then," Riley said. "Thank you."

Everybody thought so. Great. How exactly did *everybody* know that Buffy was with him. It suddenly occurred to him that he was probably the subject of as much speculation as Walsh and Angleman had been. Well, that was disturbing.

Riley was incredibly relieved when they pulled up behind the science building. Graham and Nelson got out of the car and headed up the steps. Riley got out and closed the door behind him, noticing the field behind the building as he did so.

"You coming?" Graham asked.

"In a minute. I'll catch up." He hadn't realized it was the field where he and Buffy had had their first date. He usually parked out in front and this wasn't a building he had spent a lot of time in when he was a student here, so it hadn't really hit him before.

Graham gestured for Nelson to go on ahead. "Riley - we have a thing here."

"Yeah. I'll be right there."

"You o.k.?"

Riley looked down. "Long day."

"She didn't call yet?"

Riley shook his head.

"And you're o.k. with that? You're not going charging off to find her?"

"She'll let me know when she wants to be found."

"*If* she wants to be found. If she wants *you* to find her."

Riley leaned back against the car. He wasn't in the mood to hash this out again, even if Graham was only looking out for him. "Graham - please."

Graham was about to say something but he stopped and reconsidered. "O.k. Take as long as you need. Just keep the phone on and tell me if you take off."

"I'm not taking off."

Graham nodded. "Whatever you say."

Riley waited until Graham had gone inside before walking over to a bench on the edge of the field. He sat down, leaning back, and looked up at the sky. Hell of a two days. He'd much rather think about the night before last than the part where he almost died or the part where she almost did.

But death was a funny thing. It certainly clarified things. It wasn't the first time he had come close - he hadn't exactly been cautious the first few months after he left Sunnydale. The words "death" and "wish" had been used several times in his presence, probably a lot more when he wasn't around. The first couple times, he hadn't really cared if he lived or not. Just wanted to be killing things. Taking them apart. And if one of them bested him, so be it. Considering the things he had done, it amazed him that he had made it this far. But if you kill enough, you get real good at it. The more risks he took, the less risky it became.

The third time he almost died had been a fluke. Wasn't even at the hands of a demon, which was why it had been an eye opener. Literally - he had the scar to prove it.

He had been back for three months - a wild three months. Charging in without any regard for the consequences. Hand to hand combat whether it was warranted or not. The only thing that kept him going was a thirst for blood - if he wasn't going to give it away then he was damned well going to take it. And giving it away wasn't an option; Graham had seen to that.

Even Graham eventually got tired of it, though, and this particular night at a safe house in Singapore, he had read Riley the riot act. Had said that twice was enough and if Riley wanted to die that much then fine, Graham was done trying to save him. But there was no way Riley was taking the squad down, too.

They had almost come to blows - it wouldn't have been the first time, but it may have been the last considering how high the tempers were flaring. Riley had never been so angry before, mostly because he knew Graham was right; not that he was about to admit that. He had stormed out into the night. Not an incredibly mature thing to do, but he was way past logical thought by that point.

After aimlessly wandering the streets, Riley found himself drawn to this particular bar. He had no idea where he was in relation to where he started, but he didn't care. He just wanted everything to stop - the dreams, the guilt, the disappointment and despair. He hated what he had become and he couldn't figure out how to get back to where he had been. He knew that losing himself in what this bar had to offer was one of the worst ideas he had ever had. Didn't stop him, though.

He thought about offering up a final prayer, but couldn't even manage that. If he was going to live in hell, may as well make it the real thing. When he pulled open the door, he knew exactly what he was getting himself into.

Or maybe not.

The bar was the oddest thing he had ever seen, nothing had come close before or since: an almost exact replica of the bar from "Cheers" right down to the Norm look-alike sitting on the corner stool. Sam and Diane were bickering on the t.v. which would have been totally normal except they were doing it in Chinese. Everyone in the bar was Malaysian, except for Norm and the bartender, a sixty-year old white man who was polishing glasses and squinting at the waitress.

The waitress was another story. An attitude like Carla's, but the resemblance ended there. She couldn't have been more than fifteen - long, straight hair, big, gray eyes and tall. Really tall.

Riley noticed the looks he got as he walked in, but he was used to attracting attention. Even with the deep tan he now wore, no one would ever mistake him for anything but an American and military at that. Neither of those things was particularly popular, especially in the places that he found himself these days.

He took a seat at the bar and ordered a drink, sticking with beer. The obliteration he was looking for wasn't going to come from alcohol. It was less than ten minutes before he was approached; he could sense her presence before she even sat down. She was putting on a show, he wasn't sure who for but he didn't think it was him. Probably some bet about the crazy American who had wandered into this bar. Not that it mattered; it was definitely working.

It seemed that in Singapore the vamps were a bit more forward. She was on his lap within moments of sitting next to him, kissing his neck and reaching her hand down between his legs. He was about to tell her, no, that wasn't what he was here for, but then her tongue found the scar on his neck and he could think of nothing beyond throwing her down on the bar and fucking her until the pain went away.

He had never let it get this far with the girls in Sunnydale. Not that he hadn't been curious - they took great pleasure in describing in detail what sex felt like under those particular circumstances - but no matter how much he may have already betrayed Buffy, he would never take that final step. He had no desire to. She was the only one he ever wanted to be with.

But Buffy was out of the picture and he wasn't fooling himself into thinking that she was sitting around pining for him. Probably hadn't taken her more than a few weeks to move on. Sam wasn't in the picture yet - she had already joined his squad, but they had barely gotten beyond being civil to each other.

So the only person that this would hurt would be himself. And since nothing else had worked, what did he have to lose? His blood? She could have it. His pride? Long gone. His life? Not worth a thing. He only hoped that she wouldn't turn him - he would pay extra for that. This needed to be over, the sooner the better.

He threw his money down on the bar and stood up - not easy things to do with her body wrapped around his. He put her down, wondering briefly if there was a pool table in the back room and if that was where she was going to take him. He gave one last look around the room, thinking how ironic it was that even half way around the world the last thing he would see was this weird place that reminded him of home.

And then he saw the eyes. Dawn's big eyes staring at him with compassion he didn't deserve. Reaching into his soul and telling him this wasn't the way. A sad smile saying there were places that he had yet to go, so many things yet to do; apologies yet to make. And a mouth that was suddenly spewing a litany of Chinese curses. Not Dawn - the waitress, who was now coming at the vamp with eyes blazing.

All hell broke loose. Norm was off his stool quicker than it seemed possible given his bulk. The bartender was out from behind the bar quicker than it seemed possible given his age and all around cluelessness. And the patrons were out of their chairs and on their feet taking sides quicker than it seemed possible given they were all so drunk that they could barely walk.

The only one moving more slowly than he thought possible was Riley, who found himself in the middle of this fight, not sure who was winning. The vamp, whose face had turned and who was clearly the stronger of the two, or the fifteen-year old waitress who had nothing going for her other than pure fire. For a split second he even wondered if a new Slayer had been called. But only for a split second, because there was no super-human strength there, just a kid who was fighting dirty with whatever means she had available to her, like the jagged end of the bottle of beer Riley had left sitting on the bar.

It didn't take long for the drunken masses to join in and soon it was every man for himself. Half were vampires, half human; Riley could usually tell which was which but he had never been in a bar fight like this, and he wasn't about to use his stake unless he was sure. There was one woman he was sure about though, and she was now on top of the waitress, an evil smile on her face as she sank her teeth in.

Times like this he hated being so tall - Buffy could always worm her way in if she had to, but Riley had to plow down whatever was in front of him. In this case it was two very large men, who Riley managed to push apart in time to wade through and stake the vamp before she had killed the waitress. The waitress, however, was thoroughly pissed off and didn't register that the vampire was now dust and that the face the beer bottle in her hand was connecting with was Riley's.

Not the kind of pain he had been anticipating only five minutes before and it fucking hurt like hell. He couldn't tell if the reason he couldn't see anything was because his eye was gone or because it was filled with blood. He knew he wasn't dead because he could feel every splinter of the chair that was being smashed over his head. And then he wasn't so sure any more because everything went black.

Graham, of course, had been sitting in the hospital room when Riley woke up - he always was. Riley expected the riot act again but was surprised when Graham just shook his head and started laughing, muttering something about a catfight and saying that there were only six lives to go. The waitress came in bearing flowers, apologies and a Cheers key ring that her father hoped would make the American soldier feel better. And also a bill for the chair that had been broken by Riley's head.

The waitress was followed by Sam, who, being the only one on the squad with actual medical training, had been assigned to see to his recovery. Not entirely happily, by any means, but she later said the black patch he had to wear over his eye went a long way in getting her to ignore the fact that she hated him. It wasn't too long after that that he decided he didn't hate her either.

A lot of things changed after that, the third time he almost died. Every time he started to lose it again, his mind flashed back to those big, gray eyes and all the things they told him; and then his own eyes would find Sam and see her smile. He wasn't close to being happy yet, or even sure if he ever wanted to be, but he was ready to find out if he was capable of that again. He was ready to think that maybe he did want to see Iowa again, that he had more to offer his family than shame. Maybe even see Buffy again some day and try to tell her how sorry he was.

He had been much more careful after that, much smarter. There was always a rush with the kill, that wasn't something that would ever go away, but now part of that was knowing that it wasn't just luck that made you come out ahead, it was actual skill and brains and strength.

Or at least most of the time. Luck still played a role - like yesterday. If Graham and his team hadn't shown up when they did, well, that would have been it. In some ways, Riley thought, it seemed fitting - he had done the things he needed to do. He had picked up the pieces and pulled his life together again. He had made peace with Buffy, or at least begun to, and they seemed to be on the verge of something. Where it would take them, he had no idea, but for the first time in a long, long while, he was actually looking forward to the ride.

And he hadn't been lying to Graham - Buffy had changed. She seemed willing to let him in, to open herself up to him in ways that she never had before. Or maybe he was the one who had changed - seeing more, understanding her better; grateful just to be near her again and accepting the fact that she was giving him as much as she could. Or maybe they were meeting somewhere in the middle.

It was probably a little sick, he thought, that of the four times he had come close, the last one was the only time he hadn't really minded. It should have been the opposite; that's the one that should have been the worst - when the nightmare was suddenly changing into a dream. But for some reason it wasn't bad at all. And now that he knew Buffy was alive, there was a strange feeling of contentment. A completely unfamiliar feeling. A sense that he was finally in the place that he should be.

And maybe that's why this time was so different. Not like the first two times when he hadn't cared; and not like the third time, which had finally shocked him out of his downward spiral. Just hadn't minded. Someone up there had given him the chance to make things right again; couldn't ask for much more than that.

A car alarm sounded off in the distance and Riley realized he had been out here for much longer than he had intended. He thought about calling Buffy one more time, but decided against it. He needed to trust her, trust his gut. She would call when she wanted to, and if she needed help she would ask. She knew he was here and that was all that mattered.

He took one last look at the field before standing up. It had been a nice picnic. No demons or vampires or Initiative or Slayer. Just a boy and a girl. And the girl's best friend. He smiled. Xander was right. It seemed wrong to say it, but those were good times. Except for the part where his whole world came crashing down around him, of course.

Time to get back to Graham, he thought as he walked towards the building. He was about to head up the steps when his eyes caught a movement from further down the sidewalk.

"Willow?" With black hair. And clothes. And eyes.

Sweet Jesus. So much for security tapes.

"Willow?" he asked again, putting his hand out to her as she walked past him.

"You're touching me," she said, stopping and looking at his hand on her arm. "Don't."

The pain started in his hand and traveled up his shoulder, resonating as his arm jerked away, seemingly on its own. "Willow - are you o.k.?"

Not that the answer wasn't obvious, but it seemed smarter than saying, Don't you think black is a bad color for you? Or something along those lines.

She stared at him with an odd smile on her face before saying, "Tara's waiting."

Riley watched, stunned, as she walked towards Stevenson. He was reeling. It really was Willow. She was the one at the hospital.

He sank down on the step, trying to convince himself that this could somehow end well. She was strong. She could pull herself back. She did it once before, she can do it again. Right? Please?

He thought about going after her but that didn't seem the best of ideas. Riley had seen enough dark magic to know that he wasn't any match for it. And this was certainly dark. Black hole kind of dark.

Now he really did need to talk to Buffy, he thought, pulling out his cell phone again. If she wasn't home yet, he'd try Xander's, then the Magic Box. And then, God help him, Spike's.

No signal. Of course not. Because he actually had to use the phone. He stood up and turned to head up the steps just as Paxton came running out.

"Sir - we weren't sure if you were still out here. Major Miller needs you inside."

"Yeah," Riley said, glancing back in the direction Willow had gone. "I'm coming."

Minutes later, Riley walked into a scene of barely controlled chaos. Red lights were flashing as alarms sounded. Graham was barking out orders as he watched the big monitor. The map showed helicopters moving in from Nevada and New Mexico. Four were within half an hour of Sunnydale; another eight were forty-five minutes away.

"What've we got?" Riley asked.

"Whatever it is, Command picked it up in Tonopah," Graham said. "It's more than just surges, there's some kind of current overwhelming the sensors. Too much to pinpoint in any one location, but it's really strong at Ground Zero. Bigger than anything we've seen in a long time."

Ground Zero - the Initiative's term for Sunnydale, thanks to the Hellmouth. "Communications?"

"Cell phones are out; satellites come and go. Land lines are stable."

"Tell me more about the surges," Riley said to Paxton. He was starting to think that it wasn't just a coincidence that these readings were taking place on the same day that Willow had gone over to the dark side. Starting to think that things were about to get very complicated. "I want exact times and duration."

"Yes, sir," Paxton said, calling something up on his computer and printing it out.

"And 911 calls. Anything from oh-eight hundred on." Thank goodness they still had the tap into the 911 calls. And since nothing else much ever happened around here, the soldiers had gotten really good at simultaneous transcriptions.

Graham looked at Riley sharply. Riley had clearly figured something out, but he wasn't letting on what it was.

Riley watched the map showing the helicopters as he asked, "What exactly are the teams being deployed for?"

"Eliminate the threat once we determine what it is," Graham answered.

"That's what I thought," muttered Riley. He wouldn't look at Graham. If these readings had something to do with Willow, and by now Riley was pretty sure that they did, then this could get ugly. Career ending ugly. Because if Oz had been worth it, then there wasn't even a question when it came to Willow. But he needed to be sure; and once he was sure, he needed to figure out the best way to handle this.

No way he could do that with Graham standing right there. Graham knew him too well. Riley grabbed the printouts Paxton handed him and took them into his office, closing the door behind him. He laid them out on the desk. Exactly what he thought - the first surge had happened right before the 911 call from Buffy's house. Willow must have tried to invoke something almost as soon as the shots were fired.

The next one happened at about the time they left the hospital. Three calls came in from the ER. One was from the doctor - Boden. The other two were from people waiting in the ER when Willow, Buffy and Xander walked out. Odd calls - not really reporting anything except that something weird had just happened. It was a wonder people even bothered given the fact that they lived in Sunnydale.

The third reading came from somewhere out in the desert. The sensors couldn't give exact locations, but they could pinpoint general areas and this one hadn't been in Sunnydale. 911 calls came from passengers on a bus, reporting that a man had been ordered off and had been attacked by three people, a man and two women. Except the passenger wasn't an actual person, it was a robot. There were two phases of calls - the ones reporting the attack, and then, a few minutes later, more calls reporting that one of the women had vanished into thin air.

So that's where they had gone from the hospital. How or why, Riley had no idea. Most likely something to do with Warren. Riley could understand the feeling - it was probably a good thing he had been stuck in a car on a desert highway when Xander called, because if not, then Riley probably would have been hunting Warren down himself. He had torn the throat out of a Vrakola demon with his bare hands, it was probably a lot easier to do to human flesh.

Willow hadn't hurt anyone in the hospital or anyone on the bus, except the robot. Her rage definitely had a focus, which would buy Riley a little time. There was no way he could hold off the Army if the public was at risk, not that he would want to, even if it meant hurting Willow. Riley drew the line at the feet of the innocents. But if Warren was her target, then Riley had no doubt whose side he would come down on.

Getting involved in a fight like this never worked. Graham's teams had learned that lesson the hard way. They had lost an entire squad to a drug lord in the Colombian mountains, all because of a territorial dispute between him and a vampire. Another vampire with a soul - Riley couldn't have imagined one, much less two. But he knew without doubt that the guy wasn't evil.

The drug lord, however, was another story. Had very subtly threatened the squad even as he welcomed them to his home. Markay, the squad leader had called in to Graham to get his orders. Graham was furious that Command had put him in that position - pandering to some criminal because a congressman had made some deal. And Graham was torn - he didn't trust the Colombian, but he didn't quite believe Riley's take on the vampire, either. He had agonized over the decision for hours, but finally decided that their mission was clear and to take out the vampire.

The last they heard from Markay, the vampire had been staked. The next day Markay's head was delivered in a box - mouth stuffed with cocaine and the word "gracias" cut into his cheek. Graham had been shaken to the core; Riley, not so much. Shades of gray, Graham. Shades of gray.

As far as Riley was concerned, evil was evil, and justice came in all forms. He had heard enough about Warren from Buffy and Xander to know that the guy was tweaked; and Riley had seen the kinds of equipment he had ordered. It wasn't the kind of stuff you played with. If Buffy hadn't gone after him yesterday, then Riley would have. At that point, it had been more of a question of how many years Warren would spend in prison; now Riley wasn't feeling quite so generous. If it came down to a choice between Warren and Willow? Willow. No contest.

Based on Graham's history, it wouldn't be too hard to make the case for Willow. But the bigger question was, what was next after Warren? Would she stop there? Once you went over to the dark, was it possible to come back? Riley hoped so - God, did he hope so - but he wasn't too sure. It was way out of his league, much more Buffy's territory. And that was where he was laying it on the line.

Riley had no doubt that Buffy didn't think it was too late. She wouldn't let herself believe that, even if she could. Willow meant more to Buffy than almost anything in this world, and he had no question Buffy would die to save her. Whether she could do it or not was another question, but he had faith. He was as sure of her as he was of anything.

Of course, he was just as sure that the twelve teams of soldiers rapidly approaching Sunnydale were fully prepared to annihilate Willow. Not that they knew she was the threat, yet, but they would. And not that they had much of a chance - he had seen what the shamans could do. Dropping a chopper out of the sky was child's play. It didn't matter how many teams they sent in, Willow would still be the one standing in the end. The casualties would be enormous - both military and civilian. No, the only thing the military would do here was make things worse. Command would never understand that, but Graham might.

Riley looked up to find Graham staring at him through the office window. Talk about a test. Even after everything that had happened, Graham still trusted him. The question was, was it enough to put both their careers on the line? Not to mention the lives of eighty soldiers and who knew how many civilians?

He stood up slowly, still not sure how to present this to Graham, but he was saved - for a few minutes at least - by the ringing phone. "Finn. Talk fast."

"Riley?"

He was glad the chair was right behind him because his knees buckled and he suddenly found himself sitting down. Her voice had never sounded more beautiful. "Buffy. Are you o.k.?"

"Are you?"

"Huh?"

"'Only sand,' he says. 'No need for back-up.'" Buffy's words were strong, but her voice was wavering. Too much loss. There was only so much one person could take. "Imagine my surprise when Graham answers your phone and tells me you had just almost died. So I repeat, how are you?"

"Oh. Right," Riley said. Yesterday. It had faded away the second he saw Willow. "Fine. Unless my brain freezes, but they think that's unlikely."

"Oh, good," she replied, the smile just barely back in her voice. "Because I've sworn off cold-blooded men for now. If you freeze, I'm gonna have to dump you, too."

He smiled. "If I freeze, I'll have bigger problems."

"Yeah," she said softly. "Bigger problems."

Riley looked up at the map again. Much bigger problems. "So, you've had a busy day."

"This is all your fault, you know."

"O.k." he said. "Not that I'm denying it, but how?"

"Yesterday started out all happy. I told you already, that doesn't work in Sunnydale."

"No, you said love doesn't work in Sunnydale. Nothing about happy."

"Oh. Well, happy doesn't work either."

The tears were still just below the surface, he could hear it in her voice as she tried to skirt around it. He couldn't tell her to just let it out; could never say that to her again. But he could wait - he was a lot more patient these days. And besides, there were other ways to come at it. For example, "How's Dawn?"

"O.k., I guess." Buffy's voice caught. "Well, no. Maybe not so good."

"I wouldn't think so," he said quietly. "Is Xander there?"

"Upstairs with the policemen. They're taking care of.things. But Riley. Willow is."

"Yeah. I know."

Buffy asked sharply, "You know? How do you know?"

Riley thought it probably wouldn't be a good time to tell her that the helicopters were about to land in Sunnydale. And he should probably get off the phone, or else there was no chance that he was going to be able to stop them.

"Riley? What's going on?"

The office door opened before he had a chance to answer. Graham stepped in and closed the door behind him. "What's it gonna be, Ri? You with us?"

No good answer to that question. "Buffy, I have to go."

"Why? Riley - tell me."

"I. Later. I promise." Providing he wasn't in the stockade. "Just. Do what you need to do. We'll be here, o.k.?"

"Who's 'we,' Riley?"

He turned his back to Graham, not that Graham wasn't listening to every word. "Buffy, I don't have time. I really need to go. But." This was one of those moments of clarity, the kind where you couldn't breathe for a minute and you knew that no one else understood how important it was what you were about to say. But it didn't matter, he needed to make himself clear. There wasn't much time to explain.

"I understand now, why you didn't tell me about Dawn. Why you wouldn't let us help. They wouldn't have understood how to deal with her. They would have destroyed her." He was choosing his words carefully, hoping she was hearing what he needed her to. Knowing that Graham had to get it, too. He swiveled back so that he was facing Graham, looking at him as he spoke to Buffy. "I won't let that happen. You need to trust me."

She didn't speak right away. "They know it's Willow."

"The readings aren't that clear."

"O.k. They don't know it's Willow, but they don't care."

"I do."

"You'll keep them out of my way?"

"Yes."

"Can you do that?"

"Guess we'll find out."

"If they put you in jail again, I'm not going to be able to break you out, am I?"

"Probably not. But you could track down my mom, she's handy with a pitchfork."

"See?" she said, her voice thick with tears. "I told you. Those things just don't work in Sunnydale."

"Yeah," he said, closing his eyes. "I love you, too."

"Riley." Her voice caught and she had to pause a moment before continuing. "Be careful. I'm going to stop her. I already lost someone today, I'm not planning on losing you and Willow, too."

"Works for me," Riley said. If anyone could do it, she could. "Buffy, I really need to go. Graham's about to kill me."

"With friends like these."

"Yeah."

"I don't want to hang up."

"Me neither."

"I."

Graham grabbed the phone out of Riley's hand. "This isn't fucking eighth grade," he muttered. To Buffy he said, "It's time for Riley to go get his ass kicked." He blushed while he listened to her reply. "No, I will not tell him that," he said, slamming down the phone. "Did she used to talk like that?" he asked Riley.

"I think she just likes to get you flustered," Riley said, laughing.

"God!" Graham said, turning to look out at the map. "What the hell are you doing here? Did all that mean what I think it did?"

"This isn't our place, Graham. There's no threat to the good citizens of Sunnydale. It's personal. The only thing we can do here is get in the way."

"Are you crazy? I have twelve teams about to land and take care of it."

Riley stood. "'It' is a 'she' who could very possibly be powerful enough to lay them out cold. What do we do then? Bring in another twelve teams? And another? We can't win this fight. A lot of people will die if we try."

"What exactly do you propose? Sit here and watch her destroy this town?"

"Establish a perimeter. Put the teams in the populated areas and have them ready to pull people out. Let Buffy handle this one; we hang back. We only go in if we're needed."

"And that would be when? When Buffy's dead?"

Riley swallowed hard. "Could be."

"How many others?"

"I'm thinking Warren's her first, if Buffy doesn't stop her. But Buffy's probably next in line."

Graham started pacing. "This Warren guy. He's the one who shot Buffy." Riley nodded. "Aren't you a little too invested here?"

"Not my vendetta, Graham. We've been in the middle before. You said you'd never do it again. This guy is no good."

Graham looked up at the map again. "You're willing to sacrifice Buffy?"

"Not *willing* - it's magic, Graham. It's powerful. You remember the firepower we used in Mexico? How helpless we were against this stuff? We can't do this. We need to hang back. You need to trust me."

"And if it doesn't stop there?"

"We do what we have to."

Graham slammed his fist on the desk. "Fuck! This pisses me off."

Riley tried not to smile. That alone would be enough to send Graham over the edge.

"You think Buffy can do this?"

Riley nodded.

"You know what's at stake?"

"Stakes are pretty high."

"Damn it," Graham spat out as he grabbed the door and pulled it open. It banged against the wall as he left the office. Riley followed him out.

No one spoke. They had all been watching through the office window and knew that anyone who said a word would be out the door. And no one wanted to miss this.

Graham held his hand out, gesturing at Riley. "Listen to the man," he said, leaning back against the wall. "I sure hope you're right," he said as Riley walked past.

Riley smiled. He turned to Nelson, "I want the choppers spread out so they cover the town's perimeter. As soon as they land, we'll tell the teams where to go. Weapons ready, but no one is to engage unless they have a direct order from me. Defense, not offense - understood?"

"Yes, sir," Nelson said as he started talking into the radio.

"And Paxton - call the Base in New Mexico. If they have anyone that's worked the reservations, dealt with anything spiritual - shamans, medicine men, whatever. If they say someone's a freak, then that's the guy I want."

Paxton nodded and picked up his phone.

Riley looked at Graham. "Hellmouth, here we come."

 

The End

 

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