"Mending Fences"

Author: Samantha
Email: sammer77@aol.com

The place looked beautiful. The room brimmed with flowers. To the outside observer, the room looked as though it was decorated for a wedding. But behind the carefully laid out floral arrangements and the catered food, there was a backdrop of sadness.

For the room was not prepared for a wedding, but for a wake. Rupert Giles, 61, had died suddenly of a heart attack. It came as a shock to everyone, but especially Buffy. She had been the one to find him lying on the living room floor of his apartment. His face had looked so peaceful-as if he knew his time on Earth was over and welcomed it.

What bothered Buffy the most was not so much that Giles was gone, but that she had not gotten the chance to say goodbye. She didn’t realize how much she hadn’t gotten to say to him. She had just taken it for granted that Giles had always been there when she needed him, that he would always be there.

But now he wasn’t. And he never would be again. That was the hardest thing to get used to. And as she had stood next to his grave, watching silently as they lowered her beloved friend and mentor into the ground, she had spoken to him.

"Goodbye, Giles. I’ll miss you. And I love you. Always."

Riley and Buffy had decided to hold the reception at their house. They stood at the door, politely greeting the guests as they arrived. There weren’t many-Graham, Willow, Anya, Xander, a few of Giles’ friends that Buffy had found listed in his address book. All in all, there probably weren’t more than fifteen people there. That wasn’t including the children. Michael and Josh were in the backyard, while Anne, Jason, and Alexandra-Xander and Anya’s daughter-were napping upstairs.

Buffy wasn’t crying. She had done enough of that the first couple days after she had found him. Riley had been so patient and gentle-holding her while she cried, while she mourned. But now she was cried out. It was time to begin again, to move on.

Giles had been there for her when she was the Slayer. He had taught her, trained her, looked out for her, helped her. He had done his job. Yes, it was sad that he wouldn’t be there to see her start a new chapter in her life.

But Buffy knew he would always be with her.

The reality of life after slaying really began to sink in after Jason was born. Everything was different-lighter, newer, happier. And even though she knew that the world hadn’t changed, hers had. Drastically.

For the remainder of her pregnancy, it hadn’t really felt that different. She wouldn’t have been out patrolling anyway. But once Jason was born, it was as if a door had been opened-one that had been locked to her before. The moment she saw his face and realized that she would be able to watch it mature, it hit her. Her life was different.

Jason was now almost five months old and in that time, Buffy laughed and smiled more than she ever thought was possible. And she did so without the edge of sadness that had always plagued her before. Everything tasted better, everything smelled better. And giving that necklace to Christina was a catharsis. Passing on her last link to slaying to the new Slayer closed the book on that chapter of her life.

And now, after everything, she had gotten what she had always wanted-a chance at a future.

"What’s the occasion?" Buffy asked as she came down the stairs. She looked at her husband curiously, tilting her head slightly. "Okay. What have you done now?"

Riley looked at her, feigned hurt on his face. "Nothing. You are so suspicious!"

"I’ve had a lot of practice, remember?" she said playfully, taking Riley’s hand and allowing herself to be led to the table.

"Yeah, well," Riley answered. "That may well be. But can’t a guy do something nice for his best girl just because?" He winked at her as he pushed her chair in.

She gazed up at him from her seat. "Not when it’s the middle of the week and not a special occasion," she quipped, smiling.

Riley laughed. "Well, I’ll have to remember that."

They ate dinner. Buffy was a little jealous-he was a much better cook than she was. But it was nice and it didn’t bother her. She always said that she would marry a man that knew how to cook. And she had.

But she started to squirm a little when Riley kept smiling at her. Not that she didn’t like it when he smiled at her. It was just that the smiling combined with the glint in his eye gave it away. He was hiding something. She knew it.

"Okay, Riley Finn," she said, sitting back in her chair and throwing her napkin on her plate. "What is it? I know you’re hiding something. So just spill it. Because you know I’ll find out eventually anyway." Her green eyes sparkled in the dim light.

Riley surveyed her silently, sitting back in his own chair. He narrowed his eyes at her. "I can’t hide anything from you, can I?"

"No, you can’t. You are a terrible liar, Riley. Always have been," Buffy answered.

Sighing, Riley relented. "Okay, fine. You got me. I am hiding something." He paused.

"Well?" Buffy probed impatiently, a smile starting to form on her lips.

Riley smiled back at her and reached into his pocket. "I was going to wait until later, but since you’re so insistent," he said as he pulled out his hand, opening it to reveal a small velvet box.

Buffy’s eyes widened. "What’s this?" she asked, reaching tentatively for the small gift.

Smiling, Riley said softly, "Why don’t you open it and find out?" He watched silently as Buffy gripped the small box in her slender fingers and opened the lid. He heard her inhale sharply when she saw what was inside.

"Riley, it’s beautiful!" she exclaimed in a whisper, looking up to meet his eyes, her own brimming with tears. "Thank you."

Riley’s grin widened. "It’s called a Mother’s ring. It contains the birthstones of everyone in our family-you, me, Emma, Michael, and Jason. Do you like it?"

The expression on her face said it all. Tears fell slowly down her cheeks as she smiled at her husband. "I love it," she managed. She looked at the ring again, turning it to see the five little stones sparkle in the light. Then she reached across the table and handed it back to Riley. "Put it on me?" she asked softly.

Taking the box from her, Riley gripped the ring between his fingers and stood up. He walked around the table and kneeled down next to Buffy, looking into her eyes.

"I have a confession to make," he said softly as he took her hand. "I have ulterior motives." He smiled widely and his eyes twinkled. "In giving you this ring, I was hoping that you would be so overcome with joy that you would agree to marry me again without hesitation." He slipped the ring onto her right ring finger, watching her closely.

Buffy was speechless. Her mouth was working to form words, but no sound was coming out. She squeezed his hand tightly and looked into his eyes. Swallowing hard, she managed to ask, "What did you just say?"

Riley laughed gently. "I think I just asked you to marry me again."

"That’s what I thought you said," Buffy whispered, still in shock.

Riley moved closer to her, taking her other hand. "So what do you say?"

Throwing her arms around him, she whispered in his ear, "Yes. Of course I will!"

Holding her tightly, he pulled her gently off the chair and held her against him. "I love you," he whispered against her cheek.

"You’re not serious," Xander said, raising his eyebrows at Buffy.

"Of course I’m serious, Xander. Why wouldn’t I be?" Buffy asked sweetly, grinning slightly.

Xander studied the former Slayer closely. "Well, let’s see. You and Riley want to renew your vows. And not only do you want to do so, like, yesterday, but you want to go to Iowa to do it." Xander tilted his head slightly and cracked a slight smile. "What’s the rush? Did that boy get you in trouble?"

Buffy smirked. "Very funny, Xander. It’s just that this whole thing represents the beginning of our new life together. And I've never been to Iowa. So it’s a great way to accomplish two goals at once." She paused, giving Xander her patented Buffy look. "But if you don’t want to go, that’s fine. You don’t have to." She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms across her chest.

Surrendering, Xander threw up his hands. "Alright. You know I can’t resist that Buffy look of death. I’ll talk it over with Anya when she and Alex get home. But I’m sure there will be no problem." He grinned widely at his dearest friend.

"Thanks, Xander. You’re the best!" Buffy said happily, squeezing Xander’s hand.

Xander blushed slightly. "I know." He winked.

Willow threw her arms around Riley when he told she and Graham about the news. "Oh my gosh! That is so sweet! I am so happy for you!"

Riley hugged her back firmly, laughing. "Thanks, Will." When Willow didn’t let go, Riley eyed Graham for help.

Standing, Graham came to Riley’s rescue, gently pulling Willow away and saying, "Give Riley some air, honey."

Willow backed off and gave her husband an accusatory look. "Why don’t you ever do anything that romantic for me?" She elbowed him in the ribs and went to sit down.

Graham eyed his friend wearily. "Thanks a lot, Riley," he muttered, going to sit down next to his wife.

There was an awkward silence for a moment before Riley smiled and sat down across from his friends. "So, anyway," he began. Graham noticed his demeanor change suddenly-his smile diminished slightly, his eyes darkened. "Buffy had an idea and we hope that you will go along with it."

"Well, what it is? Spill," Graham said, studying his friend closely.

Riley continued slowly. "Well, Buffy wants to have the whole ceremony in Huxley. She’s never been there and my parents haven’t seen Michael since he was a baby and they’ve never seen Jason and we really want you guys there and so we were wondering…" he said quickly in one breath.

But Willow chimed in. "…if we would go to Iowa?"

Taking a breath, Riley nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly, smiling slightly. He looked back and forth between his friends carefully, eyebrows raised. "So will you go?"

Graham smiled, extending his hand to Riley. "We’ll be there." He shook Riley’s hand firmly.

"Great. It’s gonna be fun," Riley replied. But the way he said it, Graham wondered if Riley was trying to convince them or himself.

Fun wasn’t exactly the word to describe their trip so far. For one thing, they hadn’t even gotten off the ground yet. Their flight was delayed for some mechanical problem and they had to wait for another plane. They had been waiting for over two hours-five children and six adults strewn about the chairs at the gate, growing more aggravated by the second.

"This is a sign," Anya stated impatiently. "Things are only going to get worse from here. I just know it."

Xander put his arm around his wife quickly, trying to make an excuse for her comments. "Now, honey, it’s not that bad." He turned to the group. "She’s just a little tired. She doesn’t mean it," he said appeasingly, smiling apologetically.

Willow sighed and rolled her eyes, leaning into the crook of Graham’s arm and resting a hand on Anne who was sleeping in the chair next to her. Graham kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, his hand holding his son’s gently.

Buffy and Riley hadn’t even heard Anya’s comment. They sat next to each other in the chairs facing Graham and Willow. Jason was in his carrier in the chair next to Buffy and Michael was napping in the chair next to Riley, leaning against his dad. Riley’s arm rested lightly across his son.

But while they looked like they were sitting patiently, waiting for their flight, their minds were anywhere but on the situation at hand. Buffy’s hand started at Riley’s knee, harmlessly resting there like it had a thousand times before. But slowly, it began inching up his thigh until her fingers brushed against the fly of his jeans. Which is where it was at that moment, her fingers moving ever-so-slowly against him.

Riley was trying to ignore the slow, deliberate movement against him, but was finding it difficult to do so. His mind was racing and his pulse began to quicken. He swallowed hard, but did not look at his wife. He covered her hand with his, squeezing it tightly. Then he ran his fingers slowly up and down her arm, tracing the inside of her forearm gently. He continued the motion-back and forth, back and forth.

Buffy caught her breath and jerked slightly, feeling her own pulse quicken. She curled her fingers into a fist and grasped his hand. She looked at Riley, her eyes wide.

He could feel her eyes on him and he couldn’t resist the pull they had on him. He turned his face towards her, his own eyes burning into her green orbs. She was beckoning him with her expressive eyes, biting her lip slightly. He raised his eyebrows questioningly, asking wordlessly, "Right now?"

Buffy squeezed his hand again, in need of some immediate gratification. She nodded slightly and swallowed hard.

Riley nodded once in agreement, standing up and pulling Buffy up with him. "Watch the kids," he said to the rest of the group quickly. "We, uh…we’ll be right back. Thanks." He and Buffy walked quickly away.

The four remaining adults looked at each other silently. Anya wanted to say something so badly, but she had learned when to keep her mouth shut over the years. Willow and Graham looked at each other and smiled, shaking their heads knowingly.

They were in a janitor’s closet at the end of the terminal. Riley had looked around cautiously before opening the closet door and dragging his wife inside. It was locked-Riley had made sure of that-and it was dark except for the streak of light seeping in from under the door.

"You know," Buffy said breathlessly as Riley pressed her against the door and began kissing her neck. "What if we get caught? I mean, wonder if someone needs a broom or something…" She pushed her hands under his shirt and pressed her palms against his skin.

"Don’t worry," Riley whispered in her ear as his hands furiously worked at her buttons. With each opened button, he kissed further down her chest, feeling her skin hot under his lips.

Buffy fumbled with the button on Riley’s jeans. "The kids," she muttered, finally managing to open his jeans and push them down. "We just left them. We’re terrible parents."

Riley pulled the rest of her blouse off and made quick work of her bra and jeans, pulling her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. "Yeah, terrible," he said hoarsely, covering her mouth with his own. "Just terrible."

Clinging to him, she moaned softly as his tongue explored her mouth and tangled with hers. But she let out a loud moan when he pushed inside her, digging her fingers into his shoulders.

"Shh," Riley said against her mouth, chuckling softly. He moved rhythmically, methodically, feeling Buffy grow tighter and tighter around him. He was coming hard and fast and wasn’t sure how much longer he could last. But he didn’t want to peak without her. So he slowed down a little, trying to prolong things.

But Buffy shook her head. "No…" she gasped. "I’m almost there…" She tightened her legs around him, driving him deeper into her.

That was Riley’s cue. He buried his face in her neck, taking her skin between his teeth gently, and thrusted into her again and again. Then it happened. He was there. He continued to push into her, gradually slowing down when he felt Buffy shudder against him. Her grip on him tightened momentarily, then loosened as she came down.

They remained silent, the only sound being that of their breathing. Finally, Buffy spoke. "Wow…" She smiled against his cheek, still holding on to him.

"Yeah…wow," Riley answered, moving his mouth to kiss her-a long, slow, deep kiss that had none of the urgency of their previous actions.

From outside, a voice over the intercom said, "Last call for Flight 108 to Des Moines. Now boarding at Gate 12."

"Shit," Riley said, breaking the kiss and pulling away from Buffy, setting her on the floor gently. He pulled up his jeans and began searching for their clothes in the darkness.

"What?" Buffy asked curiously.

"Buffy, they’re boarding. Last call," he said urgently, tossing Buffy her blouse. "Hurry."

"Shit," Buffy responded, repeating her husband’s sentiments.

They were almost finished boarding. Xander, Anya, Graham, and Willow stood scanning the terminal for Buffy and Riley.

"I say we just go," Anya said, annoyed. "If they don’t make it, that’s too bad."

Xander looked at his wife hopelessly. "Honey, there’s no point in going if the guests of honor don’t go," he said, grinning condescendingly.

The flight attendant called out to the group, "Are you folks going to board?"

Graham turned and smiled at the woman apologetically. "I’m not sure. We’re waiting for our friends. They’re running late," he said evenly.

"Literally," Willow said, nudging him in the side. She pointed at the couple running towards the gate.

"That’s them," Graham said to the woman. He turned to gather his bags and help Josh with his stuff.

"We’re not too late, are we?" Buffy asked, fumbling in Jason’s carrier for the tickets.

Willow eyed her friend closely, raising an eyebrow. "No. But almost. Where were you two?" she asked teasingly as she and Buffy walked towards the tunnel.

Riley picked up Michael and slung his carry-on over his shoulder, avoiding eye contact with his friends. But even with his avoidance, he still felt eyes on him. He straightened and headed towards the tunnel quickly, handing his ticket to the woman. "Sorry," he muttered, giving her a slight smile.

But he couldn’t avoid the inevitable. Graham caught up with him halfway down the tunnel, holding his own son. He kept his eyes forward, but said to Riley, "Honeymoon start a little early?" He tried to stifle a smile.

Riley looked over at his best friend, his eyes twinkling mischievously. He noticed him trying not to smile. "Jealous?" he asked playfully.

Graham burst out laughing.

Willow looked at her dear friend closely. She noticed that Buffy was flushed and perspiring. And she knew it wasn’t because of her brief run through the terminal. "I can’t believe you two," she said in mock disapproval. But a wide grin lit up her face.

Buffy grinned at her friend despite her best efforts not to. She raised her eyebrows expressively. "Believe it," she said quickly and turned away.

When they were all seated and settled in the plane, Riley looked over at Buffy and smiled, his eyes glittering. "Missing something?" he asked devilishly.

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him. "Should I be?" she responded, looking at him suspiciously.

His grin widened as he reached into his pocket. "Oh, I don’t know. Maybe this?" he asked softly as he pulled out her bra and dangled it in front of her.

"Riley!" she squealed as she snatched it from hand and balled it up in her own. She turned bright red as Riley laughed.

Graham and Willow, who were sitting across the aisle from them, saw the whole display and began laughing as well. They covered their mouths with their hands to try and muffle the sound.

Xander popped his head over the seat behind Willow and asked, "What did I miss?"

Buffy watched as her husband and friends laughed at her expense. But then she glanced down at what she held in her hand and slowly began to smile. Soon, she was giggling along with the rest of them.

The flight may have begun with a laugh, but it certainly did not end with one. By the time the plane touched down, the gang was no longer smiling. They emerged from the tunnel with expressions that were a mix of relief and nausea.

When Xander stepped foot in the waiting area, he dropped to his knees and literally kissed the ground. "Solid ground!" he exclaimed. "I didn’t think I’d live to see solid ground again!"

Anya grabbed her husband’s arm and tried to pull him up, smiling at the people looking at them and saying quietly, "Honey? Please get up. People are staring at us."

As Xander stood up, Buffy said to him, "Don’t worry, Xander. Everyone on that plane wanted to do the same thing you did. Including me. Am I the only one who thinks that that was actually the plane with the mechanical trouble?" She looked around at the weary faces of the group.

Graham-always the voice of reason-spoke up. "We’re all a little tired. But the important thing is that we’re all okay. So what do you say we go get the luggage and get out of here?" he asked quietly.

Riley was quick to agree. He had an excruciatingly huge headache from hearing Jason cry through all the turbulence. His baby son was now sleeping soundly in his carrier, which Riley now grasped in his hand. His other arm loosely circled Buffy’s shoulders as she slumped against him. "I agree. The sooner we go, the sooner we’ll get out of here."

The six adults and five children walked silently through the terminal towards the luggage pick-up. Riley handed Jason to Buffy. "You get the luggage, I’ll go get the car. Okay?" Buffy nodded silently and tilted her head back to accept his kiss. "Be right back," he whispered.

Graham and Xander followed Riley’s lead and went with him to the rental car desk. Their wives and children remained behind, staring absently at the luggage as it circled around the carousel, looking for that familiar set.

But by the time the men returned, the women were no longer waiting for the luggage. Instead, they all sat on the floor, leaning against their carry-ons, staring at their husbands silently.

"Uh oh," Riley whispered to the other guys as they approached. "This does not look good." He put on a smile and walked up to them, jingling the car keys. "Got the car! Ready to go?"

There was a silence as the women continued to stare at their husbands. Finally, Buffy sat up and spread her arms wide. "Do you see our luggage here? Because I don’t," she said slowly. She started to stand, everyone’s eyes on her. "And do you know why?" she asked as she stepped towards her husband, her voice becoming louder. "Because our luggage is on its way to Philadelphia!" Her eyes glowed with anger.

Riley knew that look; he had seen it often enough, even sometimes directed at him. It was at that moment that he was extremely grateful that she no longer had Slayer strength.

Unfortunately, it was also at that moment that Jason chose to start crying again. Buffy’s look of anger turned to one of futility and helplessness. She gripped her forehead, rubbing her temples and muttered under her breath, "Great." She turned and went quickly to her son.

The embattled group made their way to their rental cars. They just wanted to get to the hotel and fall into bed. Tomorrow they could figure out what to do next.

When they were all settled into the cars, the three families began the slow drive to the hotel. Anya and Alex fell asleep the moment they were strapped in. Which wasn’t much help to Xander because he was exhausted. In Graham and Willow’s car, Willow leaned against her husband wearily as Anne and Josh slept soundly in the backseat.

"What a day," Willow sighed.

Graham tightened his arm around her. "Well, it’s almost over."

Meanwhile, in the lead car, Riley gripped the wheel tightly and looked briefly at his wife, who was leaning against the door, silently looking out the passenger side window. Then he looked into the rearview mirror and saw his two boys sound asleep in the backseat. He smiled slightly and said softly, "It’ll get better." He reached over and squeezed Buffy’s hand gently.

She covered his hand with her other one and looked over at him, fatigue in her eyes. "Well, it can’t get much worse."

"You’re kidding me," Riley said flatly as he stared at the man behind the hotel reception desk. He and Buffy stood in front of the desk, at the ends of their ropes. The rest of the gang assembled behind them. Riley took a step closer to the desk. "There must be some mistake," he said calmly, trying to mask his tremendous annoyance.

The man smiled politely, looking around at the eleven tired faces in front of him. "There’s no mistake, sir. We only hold rooms until 9:00pm. After that, we open them up on a first come, first serve basis. I’m sorry."

Buffy had lost all patience. She calmly turned around and handed Jason to Riley. Then she turned and, in one fluid movement, jumped up onto the desk and grabbed the man by his shirt. "Look here," she said through clenched teeth, her face inches from his. "I don’t care what your goddamn policy is. We want our rooms and we want them now! I have had a shitty day and am in no mood to put up with any of your crap!"

Her friends stood behind her, not moving to stop her. In fact, they were rather enjoying the whole scene.

"We are all very tired and all we want to do is sleep. So you can either give us our rooms or you can try explaining to your manager why there are eleven people sleeping in your lobby. Because either way, we’re staying here tonight!" She tightened her grip on his shirt and glared at him.

The young man put his hands up defensively. "Okay, okay," he said. "But we only have two rooms left."

"We’ll take them," Buffy said, letting him go and smoothing his shirt. "Thank you." She smiled sweetly as she slid off the desk. "You’ve been so much help."

So off they went to the rooms-splitting up almost evenly between the two rooms. Buffy, Riley, Xander, Anya, and the two babies stayed in one room while Graham, Willow, Anne, Josh, and Michael stayed in the other. No one said a word as they settled in for the night.

The next morning, they all silently assembled once again in the lobby. The young man from the night before was still there, lounging in a chair, feet propped up on the desk, reading the paper.

When the group noisily made their way into the lobby, he looked up apathetically. However, when he saw who it was, he stood up quickly and said cheerfully, "Good morning!" He smiled.

Buffy looked at him wearily and tried to smile in return. "Good morning," she said, yawning. "We would like to check out, please." She walked up to the desk and leaned against it.

"Certainly," the man answered, fumbling on the desk for something. He was clearly nervous.

Noticing his discomfort, Buffy looked at him and said, "Look. I’m sorry about last night."

The man laughed tightly, waving her off. "Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry about the inconvenience. And to make it up to you, your stay is on us."

Buffy straightened and perked up. "You don’t have to do that. Really." She eyed him closely.

"It’s alright. I mean it." There was a brief silence before he continued. "Just give me your keys and you can be on your way. Again, I apologize."

Buffy smiled sincerely and extended her hand to him. "Thank you," she said quietly. She shook his hand firmly before turning around. Walking over to the half-asleep group, she said, "Let’s get out of here."

The drive to Riley’s childhood home was very long and very quiet. Buffy stared out the side window, enjoying the scenery. She had never seen anything like it in her life-well, except in pictures. But those did it no justice at all. Everything was so green-so much open space and so few people. It was so unlike the city.

She finally tore her eyes from the view when she felt Riley’s hand cover hers. She looked over at him and smiled. "Whatcha thinkin’?" she asked, noticing that faraway look in his eyes.

He shook his head slowly. "Just about how long it’s been since I’ve been here. I haven’t had much of a reason to come back." He didn’t look at her, just kept his eyes on the road. He pulled his hand away from hers and grasped the wheel.

Buffy noticed him become more distant. She saw the way the muscles in his jaw started working, how his fingers grasped the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. She wondered what was bugging him. "Honey, what’s bothering you?" she asked carefully.

"Nothing," he answered quickly. Then he let his breath out slowly and loosened his grip on the wheel. "This place…it’s just been a while, that’s all." He didn’t look at her.

She knew that it was more than that. Something was eating at him. But she also knew that look and it would be no use to try to get him to talk. He would tell her when he was ready. She reached over and rubbed the back of his neck gently.

He felt himself relax under her fingers and he took a deep breath. It’s gonna be alright, he assured himself. You’ve got your family and friends here with you. It’ll be fine. He turned his eyes to look at her briefly, gaining strength from her smile. Smiling in return, he looked back at the road and continued the drive to his old house.

As the sight of Riley’s parents’ house grew larger on the horizon, Buffy’s heart began to pound. "I hope they like me," she whispered.

Riley laughed. "They will. They already do." He looked over at his wife and saw her wringing her hands. "Relax. It’s gonna be fine," he said, both to her and to himself.

He turned and pulled into the long dirt drive that led to the house. Stopping, he looked over at Buffy and asked, "Ready?" He smiled widely.

She nodded quickly and smiled back. "Ready," she answered.

"Riley?" a woman’s voice called out from the porch. Her face lit up when she saw him step out of the car and she ran down the steps towards him, her arms outstretched.

"Mom," Riley said, enclosing his mom in a tight embrace. He inhaled deeply. She smelled like he remembered-like soap and freshly baked cookies. But when he felt his mother’s arms tighten around him, he found it hard to keep breathing. "Mom," he gasped, trying to push away from her.

She finally let go of her son and held him at arm’s length, looking him over. "Oh, my boy," she said tearfully. "Look at you!" She touched his cheek.

"Mom," Riley said, diverting attention away from him. "Buffy’s been waiting to see you."

The older woman turned her gaze to the petite blonde standing nervously next to the car. A wide smile covered her face. "Buffy," she said wistfully to the young woman whom she had only spoken with over the phone in the last several years. She took a step towards her daughter-in-law.

Buffy took a few shy steps towards the woman she hadn’t seen in a very long time-her husband’s mother. When she felt her mother-in-law’s hand grasp hers, she broke down. The tears that had been on the verge of falling for the last few hours began pouring down her face. She wrapped her arms around her and held her tightly, burying her face in her shoulder.

The elder Mrs. Finn smoothed Buffy’s hair soothingly and closed her eyes, whispering softly, "Shh…shh…"

Riley stood watching silently, his arms aching to hold his wife, the way they always did when she cried. But he was startled from his thoughts by a small hand grasping his and a small voice asking, "Why is Mommy crying?"

"She’s just happy, son," Riley answered, smiling down at his little boy. "She hasn’t seen your grandma in a long time." But as soon as he said that, he watched as Buffy pushed away and ran past the row of cars and down the drive, muttering, "I’m sorry."

Riley and his mother made eye contact briefly, his mother nodding in Buffy’s direction and saying, "Go."

He knelt down in front of his son and held both of his shoulders gently. "Mikey, I need you to do me a favor. I’m gonna go see if Mommy needs my help. So I want you to go and introduce everyone to your grandma. Okay? Can you do that for me?" He smiled slightly at the wide-eyed little boy.

Michael looked at his father and then turned and looked at the smiling, gray-haired woman a few feet away. He didn’t recognize her although his dad told him that he had met her before. He had only been a baby then and didn’t remember. But he decided she looked nice and so when he looked back at his father, he nodded. "Okay, Daddy. I can do that."

"Thanks, Mikey. You’re such a big boy." Riley stood up, patted his son’s head, and began walking down the drive towards Buffy. He caught Graham’s eye along the way. Graham just nodded and began to lead his family towards the house, the Harrises in tow.

Riley inhaled deeply as he approached his wife. She was standing at the end of the driveway, on the edge of the street, her back to the house. He could see her shoulders shaking slightly and she jumped a little when he touched her.

"I’m sorry," she said again, without turning to look at him.

Riley walked around to face her, looking into her tearful green eyes and brushing her tears away gently with his thumbs. "Honey, what is it?" he asked softly.

Buffy tried to blink away the rest of her tears. She took a breath, trying to calm herself. "I don’t know," she began. She focused on his face. "It’s just that when I saw your mom, I realized that I don’t know her at all. I’ve only met her once a long time ago. I mean here’s this woman-your mother-and she’s a complete stranger to me. And she’s a complete stranger to the boys. And it’s my fault." The tears started to fall again and she buried her face in Riley’s chest.

Riley put his arms around her gently and rested his chin on the top of her head. "Buffy. My mother understands all that. She doesn’t blame you. Now you’re just tired. Once you get some rest, you’ll feel much better. Trust me."

"And that’s another thing," Buffy said, pushing away slightly and tilting her head up to meet his eyes. "I don’t see her in over ten years. The last time she saw me, I was in my wedding dress, looking my best. And now, after all this time, I come here looking like hell, wearing the same clothes I’ve worn for two days, the clothes I slept in, with no makeup and teeth and hair that haven’t been brushed in God knows how long. What a pretty picture I must be!" She hung her head in defeat and leaned against her husband.

Riley smiled. "Buffy. My mother doesn’t care what you look like. She’s not judging you. She loves you. She loves you because I love you." He tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. "Besides, none of us look our best. Especially Xander." He winked at her.

Buffy’s mood brightened a little and she managed a slight smile. "You’re right. Xander is definitely not winning any beauty awards this morning." She hugged him tightly for a few more seconds.

Looking back towards the house, Riley noticed that the front yard was empty. Everyone had gone inside. He kissed Buffy on the head and said, "How about we go inside? Get cleaned up."

"Sounds good," Buffy replied.

The couple began walking towards the house hand-in-hand. Buffy sighed and said softly, "It really is pretty here. Prettier than a Grant Wood painting." She giggled, remembering their conversation all those years ago.

Squeezing her hand, Riley laughed as well. "Yeah, if you knew who that was," he answered, going along. He paused and looked around at the place where he had spent half his life, sighing. "It is nice. I had forgotten," he said absently. "But now, since you’re here, it’s really beautiful."

Buffy laughed. "Aw, how sweet. How long did it take you to come up with that one?" she asked, teasing.

"Oh, I’ve had that one. I was just waiting for the perfect time to use it," he said, smiling at her.

"Well," Buffy said, standing on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. "Your timing, as usual, is impeccable."

"How’s Buffy?" Claire Finn asked her son when he stepped into the kitchen.

Riley smiled wearily and sat down at the table. "She’s out. The second her head hit the pillow, she was gone." He chuckled softly. "She almost didn’t make it upstairs."

Claire took a seat across from her son and looked into his eyes. "Is she okay?" she asked.

He thought about that for a moment, then figured out what she was asking. "Yeah, she’s okay. She was just nervous and tired. Everything just caught up with her at once. The last 24 hours have been anything but easy." He went on to explain everything that had happened to them in the last day, smiling at the memory of the janitor’s closet-a description of which he did not offer his mother.

"So the airline is supposed to have our luggage in Des Moines by tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully," he finished, leaning back in the chair and rubbing his eyes.

"Why don’t you go upstairs and get some rest yourself. You look exhausted," Claire replied, smiling warmly.

Yawning, Riley nodded. "I am. But I’m alright." He looked around the kitchen, shaking his head. "It’s strange being back, you know? It looks different and yet nothing’s changed. When I took Buffy up to my old room, it was like stepping into a time warp." He smiled.

"I’ve always said that if any of my children needed a place to stay, there would always be a place for them here," she answered, studying her son closely. He looked different, happier. Granted, the last time she had seen him, he was still mourning for his wife and daughter. And even though Buffy had returned-something that Claire still did not quite understand, but something she had to believe-her son still had a sadness about him. She could hear it in his voice when she spoke to him on the phone. But even that was gone. And she was grateful.

However, she saw his expression harden when he asked, "Where’s Dad?" She knew he was only asking in an effort to break the silence she had prolonged by staring at him. But at least he had asked.

"Oh, he’s in town," she said, watching his reaction. "He had some business at the bank."

"Nothing serious, I hope," Riley said shortly.

"Oh, no. Nothing like that. He’s just opening a new account, is all." She stood up and went to the refrigerator, opening the door and leaning in. She paused and then took a chance. "He can’t wait to see you, Riley."

Riley was not interested in continuing this conversation. He saw his chance to change the subject when he noticed his mom struggling with a huge roast. "Let me get that for you," he offered, bending down to grasp it from his mom’s hands.

Claire noticed the sudden change in topic, but let it go. "Riley, you don’t have to do this. I can manage just fine, thank you. Now go and rest before you fall over. Okay?" She shoved him in the direction of the stairs. "Scoot."

He knew there was no arguing with her, so he surrendered and turned towards the door. But before he began to ascend the stairs, he asked, "By the way, where did you put everyone?"

Claire thought a moment. "Graham and Willow are in Peter’s old room, Xander and Anya are in Amy’s old room, Michael, Josh, and Anne are in your dad and I’s room for the moment, Alex is in your sister’s old crib in the living room, and Jason is in the bassinet your grandmother gave me when you were born." She smiled.

"I’m impressed. You remembered all their names on the first try," Riley said, laughing. "Quite a full house. Are you sure it’s alright? Because we can find other arrangements."

"Nonsense," his mom replied. "It’s gonna be great. Your father and I have been ambling around this huge house for too long. Besides, it’s been a long time since these walls have heard the sounds of children."

Riley nodded in agreement. "Well, you’ll have plenty of those, I can assure you. Michael and Josh can get pretty rowdy sometimes. And Jason still does his share of crying from time to time." He grinned slightly.

"Music to my ears," Claire answered, smiling widely.

Riley chuckled. "I’ll remember you said that." He turned again and headed towards the stairs, taking each one slowly.

When he reached the top, he walked down the hall to his old room, the way he had a million times before. Quietly, he opened the door and stopped. He smiled when he saw Buffy sound asleep on his old bed. For a brief moment, he felt like a teenager again-the excitement he used to feel when he would sneak a girl up to his room. He shook it off and closed the door. He sat down on the edge of the bed and began to take off his shoes. Then he stretched out beside his wife, careful not to bump her. She shifted but did not wake up. She was facing him and her movement caused her hair to fall into her face. Riley propped his head up on his arm and gently brushed the hair away, letting his fingers linger on her skin. Sighing, he kissed her on the forehead gently and traced her cheek with his fingertips.

"Mmm," she groaned and opened her eyes. When they focused on his face, she smiled. "Hey." She pressed against him.

"Hey," Riley whispered. "I’m sorry I woke you."

"S’okay," she breathed. "I’m glad you’re here." She leaned over and kissed him softly.

"Me too."

Buffy rolled over and curled into the curve of his body. Riley put an arm around her and she tucked it around her, lacing her fingers through his.

"Sweet dreams," he whispered into her hair.

"Hmm," Buffy replied sleepily.

Smiling, Riley closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him.

By the time Buffy and Riley entered the dining room, everyone was already there. Including Riley’s father.

"Dad," Riley said evenly, nodding in the elder Finn’s direction.

"Hello, son." Roger Finn stood up and extended his hand. "Good to see you."

Riley shook his father’s hand firmly. "You too." He put a hand on Buffy’s back and introduced her. "You know Buffy."

Buffy smiled warmly at her father-in-law. Riley looked a lot like his father-same height, same build, same smile. The only difference was that Roger had a few more years and a few gray hairs. "Very nice to see you, Mr. Finn." She tilted her cheek towards him as he leaned in to kiss it. She shook his hand, feeling the rough, callused skin. He had worked very hard during his life, she could tell.

"Looks great, Mom," Riley said, turning from his father quickly and leading Buffy to the other end of the table, greeting his friends along the way. He bent down and kissed his mom’s cheek and then pulled out Buffy’s chair for her. Settling into his own, he looked up and down the table. "We’ve never had this many people at this table before," he said, chuckling.

His parents sat at the ends, while Graham, Willow, Josh, and Anne sat on the opposite side across from Riley and Buffy. Michael sat between Buffy and Xander and Anya sat next to Xander. The babies each had their own high chairs-left over from Riley and his siblings’ own babyhood-and sat near their respective parents.

Dinner was delicious, but the atmosphere was fairly quiet-due partly to residual fatigue and partly to lack of conversational topics. One would think that after such a long absence, there would be so many things to talk about. But no one felt like talking about demons and evil and so they restricted their dialogue to small talk about the weather and local town gossip.

Buffy definitely noticed a slight chill between Riley and his father. Every time his dad tried to start a conversation, Riley always changed the subject, focusing the attention away from his father. Buffy realized that Riley had never really spoken much about his dad-when he spoke about his family, it was mostly about his mom and his brother and sister.

So when dinner was over, Buffy wasn’t really surprised when, after his dad offered to take everyone on the grand tour, Riley bowed out and decided to help his mom with the dishes. They all got up and gave their compliments to the chef. Buffy leaned over to her husband and whispered, "Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?"

He nodded and kissed her. "I’m sure. I don’t need a tour. I used to live here, remember?" He smiled at her.

Buffy looked at him a few moments longer, then decided against any further questioning. "Okay." She smiled and kissed him again quickly before gathering Jason up and joining the others outside.

"It must be pretty quiet here for you city folks," Roger said in his best imitation of a southern accent. He was leading them through the yard towards the barn.

The group snickered behind him. It really was very quiet. And dark. The only lights were those coming from the house.

"And before you ask, we do have indoor plumbing and running water." He looked over his shoulder and winked at the smiling faces listening attentively to his every word.

When they reached the barn, Roger opened the doors. "Now this," he said proudly, "is my baby." He flipped on the light, revealing a huge, shiny green tractor. He looked at the group and grinned widely. "You kids can have your fancy sports cars. I’ll take a John Deere any day."

The group looked at each other, eyebrows raised. They knew Riley had been raised on a farm, but they had no idea just how farm-centric his family really was. Except for his looks, Riley was nothing like his father.

Michael ran up to his grandfather. "Can I ride on it?" he asked excitedly.

Roger looked down at his grandson and grinned. "You are so big," he commented, studying the young boy closely. Then he bent down and picked him up. "It’s too dark to ride it now. But you can sit on it if it’s okay with your mom." He looked at Buffy.

"Can I Mommy? Please?" Michael asked hopefully.

Buffy laughed. "Go ahead. It’s okay."

Roger placed Michael in the seat of the tractor, the little boy disappearing inside the huge piece of equipment. "Can Josh come up here, too?" he asked sweetly.

"Sure," Roger said.

"Go ahead," Graham answered in response to his son’s hopeful glance.

After Roger helped Josh into the tractor, he showed the others the rest of the barn. There wasn’t that much to see. They didn’t have any livestock-just a few chickens. But the place was really neat and clean and the look in Roger’s eyes reflected his feelings about his work. He loved it.

"I can’t picture Riley getting up at dawn to feed the chickens," Xander commented, feeling way out of his element.

At Xander’s words, Roger’s demeanor changed. The smile tightened, the voice became more detached, the eyes lost some of their sparkle. "He did. He didn’t always like it, but he did." There was an awkward silence before Roger spoke again. "Well," he said, quickly changing the subject, "that’s about all there is to see around here. Maybe tomorrow you guys can go to town. That’s where all the action is." He winked and headed towards the door, stopping next to the tractor. "Okay, boys," he said to them. "It’s time to go back inside. We’ll talk about that ride later." He helped them down and led them out of the barn.

A few moments after the gang left for the grand tour, Riley stood next to his mom at the kitchen sink drying the dishes his mother washed. They worked in silence until his mom spoke up tentatively. "Riley," she began slowly, handing him a plate. "Don’t you think it’s time you ended this thing between you and your father?" Her voice was soft and she looked at her son carefully.

Riley stopped drying for a moment and rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. "Mom," he said wearily. "Let’s not talk about this, okay?" He resumed the drying.

Claire turned her attention back to the dishes, seemingly dropping the subject. But she couldn’t let it go. It hurt her to see her son and her husband not getting along. She turned once again to her son. "Just talk to him, Riley. Would you do that?"

Setting the plate down carefully, Riley gripped the towel tightly in his fist. He closed his eyes and took a breath to calm himself. Opening his eyes, he faced his mother. "Mom, I didn’t come here to mend fences with Dad. I came here for Buffy. This week is about her and I don’t want anything to ruin that." His eyes gave away his inner turmoil. He looked at his mother a moment longer and then turned, picked up the plate, and walked to the cabinet to put it away.

"So you’re just going to avoid him for the whole week, is that it?" Claire said, frustration evident in her voice.

Riley paused a moment, his hand on the open cabinet door, not looking at his mom. "If I have to," he said calmly, closing the door and turning back towards the sink.

"Riley, please." Claire stepped towards her son carefully, her hand out.

But Riley put his own hand up, stopping her approach. "Look Mom," he said, his voice getting louder with each word. "I’m not the one who started this. Why should I be the one to make the first move? If Dad wants to talk to me, he knows where to find me." He glared at his mother for a moment before turning and stalking out of the kitchen.

Claire was standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring after her son long after he disappeared upstairs, when the back door opened and the gang piled in, all smiles. The sound of laughing and chatter brought her back to her senses and she put on a smile and greeted the group.

"Anyone in the mood for some dessert?" she asked cheerfully.

Of course, the two little boys and Xander said that they were and sat down at the table in anticipation. Graham and Willow politely declined and went into the living room to watch television, Anne toddling behind them. Anya excused herself to feed Alex. Buffy sat down at the table with the boys, holding Jason.

"Where’s Riley?" she asked.

Claire sighed. "He went upstairs," she said simply. She silently dished out the ice cream into three bowls, setting the bowls in front of those who wanted dessert.

Jason began squirming and crying. Buffy stuck her fingers down the front of his diaper and made a face. "He needs changing," she said absently, starting to get up.

"Let me," Claire said, reaching for Jason. "You go talk to Riley."

Buffy gazed at her mother-in-law for a moment before relinquishing her son. "Thanks," she whispered, nodding. She left the kitchen, heading for the stairs, listening to the sound of Michael and Josh laughing hysterically at one of Xander’s antics.

When she opened the door, she found Riley lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. "We missed you outside," she said gently, closing the door behind her and walking towards the bed.

"I’m sorry," Riley said softly, not looking at her.

She sat on the edge of the bed and rested her hand on his stomach. "Wanna talk about it?" she asked cautiously, watching his eyes. She saw them cloud up immediately.

Riley removed one of his hands from behind his head and covered her hand with it. He focused his eyes on her face, trying to smile. "Nothing to talk about," he lied, resuming his study of the ceiling.

Buffy stretched out beside him, resting her head on his chest and putting her arm around him. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I’m fine," he said wearily, playing with her hair. There was a silence between them for a few moments. "How was the grand tour? Did my dad show you the tractor?"

Buffy chuckled. "Yeah. Michael loved it."

"So does my father. He treats that damn thing better than he does his own children. Always has." Riley sat up quickly and clenched his fists, trying to control his anger.

"Riley?" Buffy asked, touching his shoulder.

But Riley shook her off, standing. "I’m gonna take a shower."

Buffy watched in silence as her husband closed up, shutting her out.

Riley pressed his hands against the wet tile, putting his weight against them. The hot water ran down his body and he watched as it circled down the drain, imagining that all of his troubles were escaping with it.

But it wasn’t that simple and he knew it. He had hoped his troubles had stopped when they left the hotel that morning. But they had just multiplied. He hadn’t imagined that all of his "issues" would come flooding back the moment he saw his father.

Buffy had wanted to come here, not him. He told her that he had rarely been back because he belonged wherever she was. Which was true. But it wasn’t the whole truth. The reason he rarely set foot in Huxley anymore was because he dreaded seeing his father. Before he and Buffy were married, he had always gone home for Christmas-mostly to see his mom and his brother and sister. But it was always the same. He’d spend a couple of days and then high-tail it back to Sunnydale.

He thought he could handle it-minimal contact and general pleasantries working together to paint a believable picture of happiness. But he was letting it get to him. He had promised himself that he would do his best to make the week nice for Buffy. And now he was taking it out on her. She deserved to know about everything, but he didn’t want to talk about it. Talking about it only made him angrier. This was supposed to be a time for happiness and love, not anger and resentment.

Shaking his head roughly to clear it, he straightened and quickly finished his shower. He shut off the water and breathed in the steam in a deep gulp. Grabbing a towel, he dried off and stepped onto the mat. He felt a little better; at least calm enough to have a civil conversation with his wife.

He stood in front of the mirror and wiped the fog away with his hand, staring at his reflection. "It’s only a week," he told himself. "You can get through this." Wrapping the towel around his waist, he headed out of the bathroom.

Opening the door to their room, he saw Buffy still sitting on the bed where she had been when he left.

"Feeling better?" she asked softly.

Riley slumped down on the bed next to her, sighing. "Much. Look," he said, gazing at her. "I’m sorry about earlier. It’s not your fault and I had no right to take it out on you."

"It’s okay," she whispered soothingly, smiling slightly. "If you ever need to talk, you know I’m always here for you." She kissed him softly.

Riley pulled away, running his tongue over his teeth. He made a sour face. "I wish I could brush my teeth. Yuck."

Buffy’s grin widened. "Lucky for us, your mom thought of everything." She reached behind her on the bed and grabbed a pile of stuff. "While you were in the shower, she brought these. Toothbrushes, pajamas. She said they were your dad’s. The peejays, that is."

Riley reached for the pajamas, studying them closely. "I remember," he said, running his hand over the fabric absently. "I gave these to him for Christmas when I was sixteen. I never saw him wear them. Not once." He squeezed the fabric between his fingers tightly. Then he snapped out of it. "Oh well. That was a long time ago." He stood up. "We’ll split them." He took the bottoms and tossed the top to Buffy. "It’ll be just like t.v." He winked at her.

Buffy smiled, but her feelings weren’t quite as cheerful. Once again, she watched as he husband switched modes. And it worried her. He wouldn’t open up to her. But she didn’t want to push him, so she left it alone. Instead, she stood and said, "My turn for the shower. I’m long overdue." She kissed him briefly and headed towards the bathroom.

Riley watched her go and then changed quickly into the pajama pants. The cool silk against his skin felt strange. He couldn’t believe that his father still had them after all these years. But he also couldn’t believe that out of everything his mother could have lent him, she chose these pajamas. It was a message, he knew-his mom’s way of continuing their conversation from the kitchen. But Riley chose to ignore it.

He grabbed the toothbrush and headed for the bathroom.

It was after 3:00 in the morning and Riley couldn’t sleep. He could hear Buffy breathing deeply next to him, could hear the house settling, and he felt as though he was the only person in the Western Hemisphere who was still awake.

Careful not to wake Buffy, he rolled out of bed and stood up. He walked into the hall and looked around, seeing all the closed doors. He hoped his friends were having a better night than he was. He walked down the stairs in the darkness, towards the kitchen, remembering all the other times he had made the same trip. But when he reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned to go into the living room instead.

A single lamp burned in the far corner, dimly illuminating the room. The sofa bed was pulled out and the three oldest children were snuggled under the blankets, oblivious to the rest of the world.

Riley walked farther into the room and peeked into the bassinet that held Jason. His baby son lay on his stomach, sound asleep. Riley was grateful that he slept through the night these days. Dealing with five cranky kids would not be fun.

He rested a hand on Jason’s back gently, feeling his warmth. Seeing his father again had really made Riley think about fatherhood. He hoped that he was a good father. He never wanted his sons to grow up resenting him.

Riley turned and weaved his way back through the living room towards the kitchen. The glow of the nightlight over the sink bathed the room in an eerie green glow. He stepped over to the refrigerator and opened it out of habit. He wasn’t really hungry or thirsty, but he grabbed the jug of milk anyway, twisting off the cap and tilting it to his mouth.

"You know your mother hates it when you do that."

Startled, Riley lowered the jug and looked in the direction of the voice. His father stood in the doorway, grinning slightly. Riley grunted and said, "Well she won’t know unless you tell her." He twisted the cap back on and set it heavily on the shelf, shutting the door.

"Couldn’t sleep either, huh?" Roger asked carefully, making conversation. "Me? I’m not used to having so many people in this house." He walked past Riley and sat at he table.

"Yeah. It is pretty crowded," Riley commented politely. He looked at his father. "Do you want something?"

The elder Finn studied his son closely. "Riley, sit down for a minute. I want to talk to you."

Riley hesitated, but finally sat down across the table from his father, folding his hands in front of him. "What about?"

Roger shifted uneasily in his chair before he spoke. He cleared his throat. "It’s…it’s just been a while since we’ve spoken and I’m curious to hear about your life. How are the boys?"

"Fine. The boys are fine," Riley answered quickly.

"They’re so big. Especially Michael," Roger said, trying to smile.

"Yeah. He’s really growing up fast. I think he’s already smarter than me." Riley was very uncomfortable and it showed on his face. He tried to smile but couldn’t.

An awkward silence fell between the two men. Finally, Roger spoke. "So how’s Buffy?" he asked tentatively.

But that was it. Riley couldn’t stand this charade any longer. He let out his breath in a loud rush, shaking his head roughly. "She’s fine, Dad. I’m fine. The boys are fine. We’re all fine. But you can see that for yourself, so what’s this really about?" He gripped the edge of the table and stood up. "I can’t do this. I can’t sit here and act like we’re best friends. Because we’re not. We’ve said maybe a hundred words to each other in the last ten years and all of a sudden you want to have a heart-to-heart? Sorry, Dad. It’s too late for that." Riley stalked out of the kitchen, leaving his father alone to stare after him.

Riley slammed the door angrily and leaned against it. He was trembling with anger and tears stung his eyes. He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. Why do I let that man get to me? he asked himself. He’s not worth it.

"Riley? Honey, is that you?" he heard Buffy ask groggily from the bed. He could see her outline against the window and he walked over to her.

Seeing the tears on his cheeks, she asked softly, "Baby, what’s the matter? What happened?" She brushed his tears away soothingly.

He rested his head against her shoulder and cried, tears of anger and frustration pouring from his eyes. His fingers grasped the hem of her shirt tightly.

"Please talk to me." Buffy’s voice was hoarse from the lump in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut against her own tears and tangled her fingers through his hair. "What can I do?"

Riley lifted his eyes to meet hers and looked into them intensely, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. He ran his hand across her cheek, drawing it slowly across her skin and along her neck. Then he slipped his fingers underneath her hair and brought her mouth to his, crushing his lips against hers. Hungrily he kissed her, urgently tearing at her shirt.

Pushing her down on the bed, he tore at her panties and then ripped off his own pants. He lay on top of her, skin to skin, blindly kissing her along her body, desperately trying to escape the anger, the pain, the frustration colliding together in his mind. All he wanted was her, all he needed was her. He wanted to lose himself in her, to not feel anything but the moment.

Buffy lay beneath him, her hands grasping his arms tightly. Tears streamed down her face-not because he was hurting her, but because he was hurting. It had never been so urgent with them before-so rough, so raw. Not even at the airport. That had been lust, plain and simple. But this-this was something different.

She wished that she could do more to help him. But if all he needed for the moment was her body, then she would give it to him.

Buffy opened her eyes and before she even rolled over, she knew she was alone. She could always feel him next to her even if he wasn’t touching her. But right then, all she felt was emptiness.

Flipping onto her back, she stared at the ceiling, studying the shadows projected on it by the window shades. The room was dimly lit by the sun rays that peeked in through the curtains and Buffy closed her eyes, sighing sadly.

She thought about last night and felt tears sting her eyes. Riley had been hurting so much and she had felt so helpless. He just kept retreating farther into himself, building a wall around his emotions. She just wished he would talk to her, confide in her.

He hadn’t said a word to her at all. He had just reached for her in the darkness and had desperately searched for oblivion in her body, for a moment of peace. He had taken what he needed and Buffy had given it to him without question. And when he had had enough, he let her go and turned away from her. She had reached for him, but he had shied away. He hadn’t said a word. That was how they had fallen asleep.

But now she was alone-alone with the ghosts of Riley’s past and the memories of last night.

He pressed the accelerator almost to the floor. His father’s old truck shook from the velocity, kicking up dirt on all sides.

Riley stared out the windshield at the long stretch of road and thought about how easy it would be to just keep going, to leave it all behind. But he knew he couldn’t do that; he would just be running away again.

But he also wasn’t sure if he could stand going back. Not after everything that had happened, after everything that he’d done. Not only could he no longer look his father in the eyes, but he couldn’t bear to face his wife after last night. He had used her and then rolled over and ignored her. When he woke up and saw her sleeping next to him, the troubled look on her beautiful face, he was disgusted with himself. Because he knew that he had put it there. He had promised himself that nothing would ruin the week for her. But he had.

What the hell was wrong with him?

The rest of the gang was already assembled in the living room when Buffy came down the stairs. "Hey guys," she said weakly, trying to smile.

"Hey Buff!" Xander said cheerfully, grinning widely. "In case you’re wondering why we’re all dressed like Riley’s parents, it’s because our clothes are being washed. These are our loaners."

"Oh," Buffy said, nodding absently. She looked around the room, her eyes resting on Michael and Josh. They were lying side by side on their stomachs, watching cartoons. She was glad that Michael had no idea what was going on with his father, because she didn’t understand it herself and wouldn’t know how to explain it.

Willow studied her friend. She could tell that something was wrong. "Riley still sleeping?" she asked tentatively.

Buffy snapped her head around to face Willow. "What?" she asked.

"Riley. Is he still sleeping? ‘Cause if he is, you need to go wake him up. We’re going into to town when our clothes are dry." Willow sounded cheerful, but felt worried.

"No," Buffy answered. "He’s not here."

"Where is he?"

Buffy shook her head slowly. "I don’t know. He was gone when I woke up." She paused, taking a breath. She focused her eyes on Graham. "Graham, can I talk to you for a second?"

Graham looked briefly at Willow and then looked back to Buffy. "Sure," he said, getting up. He followed her through the kitchen and out the back door. They stood silently on the back porch for a long moment.

Finally, Buffy turned to face him, a worried look on her face. "Coming back here. It’s…it’s done something to Riley. He’s changed," she began slowly.

"He’s okay, Buffy. It’s just the past couple of days… They’ve made everyone a little edgy." Graham tried to sound reassuring.

But Buffy was shaking her head emphatically. "No, Graham. It’s more than that. You didn’t see him last night. He wasn’t himself." She took a step towards Graham, her eyes wide and pleading. "Graham. You’re his best friend. You’ve known him longer than I have. Did he ever tell you anything about his father? Anything at all?"

Graham thought a moment. "He never really talked about his dad much. When we were in basic, he told me that his father was unhappy about his decision to join the Marines. That’s pretty much all he told me. I’m sorry." He looked at Buffy sympathetically. He saw her face fall at his words.

"He won’t talk to me, Graham. He won’t tell me what’s wrong. There’s never been anything we couldn’t talk about." Buffy started to cry, covering her face with her hands.

Gently, Graham reached out to her and pulled her to him. Buffy leaned against him heavily.

"Great news! The clothes are dry!" Willow exclaimed, bursting through the back door. When she saw them, the smile immediately left her face.

Graham just looked at his wife helplessly over Buffy’s head.

"You guys go. Have fun. I’m fine, really." Buffy smiled.

Willow looked at her friend closely. She could tell Buffy was lying, but didn’t press. "Okay," she whispered, squeezing Buffy’s hand. "Do you want us to take Michael?"

Nodding, Buffy answered, "That would be great. He’s been dying to get out of the house. Thanks."

"You sure you’re okay?" Willow asked softly, looking into Buffy’s green eyes.

"Yes! Now go! I’m gonna wait for Riley." Buffy pushed the redhead out the door where the rest of the gang waited. Claire was going to show them around town.

"Okay. See you later," Willow said, surrendering.

Buffy stood in the doorway, waving goodbye as they pulled out of the drive. When they had disappeared into the distance, she turned and went into the house.

"I guess it’s just you and me, kid," Buffy said to Jason, looking down at him. He was awake and looking up at her.

She reached her hand down and took her baby’s tiny hand in hers. Jason gripped her finger tightly in his tiny fist, holding on for dear life. She sighed sadly. "I wish your daddy would hold on to me this tightly," she said to him, knowing he didn’t understand.

Leaning down, she kissed his forehead gently, lingering there for a long moment. She straightened and looked around the room. The house was so quiet, it unnerved her. At least in Sunnydale, even when it was quiet, there was still some kind of noise.

She walked around the living room slowly, studying the place carefully. She tried to picture Riley here as a child. Perhaps he had been happier then. One by one, she looked at the photographs lined up neatly on the mantel above the fireplace. Scenes from Riley’s pre-Sunnydale days-a family portrait, his high school graduation picture, his high school basketball and football pictures. He was all smiles in each of them. Buffy couldn’t help but wonder if those smiles were as fake as the ones he had been plastering on his face for the past two days. Although lately, even the fake ones were lacking.

Everything about the house screamed happy childhood. And Riley had never spoken to the contrary. But Buffy knew that what’s on the surface is not the whole story. If only the walls could talk. She plopped on the couch heavily and leaned her head back, closing her eyes.

"Hey! Where is everyone?"

Buffy’s eyes flew open and she sat straight up. "Riley? Is that you?" But she was disappointed when she saw the source of the voice. "Oh. Hello, Mr. Finn." She sat back against the couch, but was still facing him.

"Please. Call me Roger," the elder man said softly, smiling. "Where’re the others?"

"They went into town. I’m waiting for Riley to come back. Do you know where he went?" Buffy asked carefully.

"Nope," Roger answered shortly. "He’s not in the habit of telling me where he’s going." He paused, noticing Buffy’s expression. He lowered his voice. "Last time I saw him, he was speeding out of the drive in my truck. Sorry."

Buffy sank further into the couch. "Oh. Thanks anyway."

There was a silence between them until Roger spoke again. "Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go upstairs and wash some of this grime off. See you later." He looked at his daughter-in-law briefly, catching her eyes when she turned to face him again.

Buffy smiled weakly and nodded. "Okay. See ya." She watched as he climbed the stairs. He reminded her of Riley in so many ways. And in him, she saw the same switch go on and off that she saw in Riley-pain masked by denial.

Deep in thought, she leaned back against the couch again and let her breath out slowly. A dull ache resided behind her eyes. But she was startled from her reverie once again by a warm kiss on her cheek. She opened her eyes and tilted her head back. "Riley!"

She sat up quickly and turned to throw her arms around his neck. "I’ve been so worried about you! Where have you been?"

"I went to Des Moines to get our luggage. We can finally change our clothes! Isn’t that great?" he exclaimed, pulling her over the back of the couch and setting her down on the floor. His smile stretched from ear to ear.

Buffy looked up at him curiously. His mood was a complete one-eighty from last night. "Riley, what’s going on? Last night…"

But Riley cut her off. "Let’s just forget about that, okay? We’re here to have fun. So let’s have some fun!" He looked around the room. "Where is everyone?"

"They went into town with your mom," she said softly, giving up the argument. She knew he was not going to talk about it.

"What do you say we go unload the truck, get changed, and go find them? It shouldn’t be that hard. The town isn’t that big." He looked at his wife, eyebrows raised.

Buffy shrugged and took his hand. "Sounds good." She turned to leave.

Riley watched after her, his smile gone the moment she turned around. He took a deep breath. It’s going to be fine, he reassured himself. I can do this.

Three days had passed without incident. Riley’s avoidance plan was so far working, but he was glad that the week was almost over. He kept himself busy showing Buffy and their friends what little sights there were to see, helping his mom around the house, and putting his two cents in about the big day. All in all, he had managed to avoid all father-related issues without raising too much suspicion.

And he was eternally grateful that Buffy had stopped asking him what was wrong. He was still having trouble looking her in the eye and he could tell by the way she looked at him that she didn’t buy his act. But she hadn’t said a word and he was glad about that. And his father had also helped his cause by staying away from him. He hadn’t tried to start a conversation with him since that night in the kitchen.

It was a tolerable situation, even if not a very comfortable one. And it was working.

Buffy was more worried about her husband than ever. He had gone from noticeably upset to all smiles. He made jokes, laughed, kept himself busy. But Buffy saw what the charade was doing to him. She saw the pained expressions on his face when he thought no one was looking, the way his eyes darkened a little more everyday. She lay next to him at night while he tossed and turned. She’d reach for him and he’d pull away. He didn’t hold her anymore.

He wore the strain like a 300 pound weight on his shoulders. There were dark circles under his eyes. And he never stopped moving, never took a break.

Buffy was afraid that if he didn’t stop soon, he would be the one to break.

They were all in the living room. It was raining and so nothing could be done outside. Riley and Buffy sat on the couch, Michael between them. Willow and Graham shared the huge recliner, Josh and Anne sitting on the floor in front of them. Xander and Anya lounged on the floor, leaning against each other. Claire was in the kitchen preparing dinner, insisting on no help.

Roger, who had spent most of the day in the garage, had joined the group for the last few minutes of the movie. He sat on the edge of the chair next to the couch, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. When the credits started to roll, everyone began to stir.

"Now what?" Anya asked, looking around the room. She sighed heavily. "Rainy days suck."

"We could watch another movie," Willow suggested.

Buffy sat up. "We’ve already watched every movie in the house." She looked at Riley who hadn’t said a word since his father walked in the room. "Honey, what do you want to do?"

"I don’t care," he said quickly. "Whatever’s fine with me."

"I think we might still have those old board games in the garage," Roger offered, smiling. "Remember, Riley? You and me against Peter and Amy in the Battleship Showdown?" He looked at his son closely.

But Riley didn’t return the gaze. "I remember." Then, "Excuse me." He stood up quickly and walked briskly out of the living room. The back door slammed loudly a moment later.

Looking around the room at her friends, seeing their concerned faces, Buffy didn’t know what to do. She shook her head slightly and whispered, "I’ll go talk to him." She stood up and headed towards the kitchen.

Claire was standing in the doorway when Buffy reached the kitchen. The two women looked at each other silently, sharing a common bond-their love for Riley. Buffy understood the worry in her mother-in-law’s eyes because it was the same worry Buffy was feeling. Claire laid a hand on Buffy’s shoulder lightly and tried to smile. Nodding, Buffy touched Claire’s hand with her own and walked past her to the door.

Buffy pushed open the door slowly and stepped out, scanning the back porch for Riley. She found him standing at the far end, his back to her. She stood for a moment, holding the door open, staring at him. Finally, she closed the door gently behind her, took a deep breath, and walked up next to him.

He didn’t look at her, just continued to stare into the rain. She could see his jaw clenched tightly, his knuckles white as he gripped the railing. When she touched his arm, he flinched.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

Riley took a breath and loosened his death grip on the railing. "Yeah," he said, letting out his breath and looking at her. "I was getting a little claustrophobic, you know? The walls were closing in." He laughed briefly and turned away again.

"Riley," Buffy whispered, grabbing his hand. "I wish you would talk to me. I’m worried about you." She felt tears come to her eyes and she struggled to keep her voice from shaking.

He paused before answering, closing his eyes briefly before turning to face her fully. He took both her hands in his and put on his best smile. "Don’t worry about me, Buff. I’m fine." When he saw the tears in her eyes, he tried to reassure her. "I promise."

Putting his arm around her, he led her back into the house. "Hey, I bet I can sink your battleship," he said, laughing and squeezing her shoulders. "I must warn you, though. I was the Finn family champion eight years running."

Dinner went smoothly-delicious food, small talk. The adults sat around the table, empty dessert plates in front of them. They were stuffed. The children had been excused from the table a few minutes before.

Graham and Xander were in a deep discussion with Roger. Anya was laughing about something with Claire. Willow was talking to Buffy, who was only half-listening.

Riley was sitting quietly next to his wife and Buffy watched as he gulped down the rest of the wine in his glass and reached for the bottle to refill it. He was on his fifth glass since dinner began and it was disturbing her. She hadn’t seen Riley drink a drop in ages and she could see the alcohol starting to affect him. His eyelids were starting to droop slightly and he slumped farther into his chair, all the while watching his father intently.

Before Buffy could say anything to him, Claire tapped her glass with a fork and stood up. "Since this is the last night before the big day, I thought it would be nice if we all made a toast to the happy couple," she began, smiling widely. She lifted her glass and tilted it towards Buffy and Riley. "I can’t believe you two have been married for over ten years. It seems like only yesterday that I watched Buffy walk down the aisle. You have been through a lot and have come through it together. It’s obvious to everyone who sees the two of you together how much you love each other. So here’s to your future. May it be bright."

"Here, here!" resounded around the table as glasses clinked together.

One by one, each of their friends stood and spoke-some briefly and to the point, like Anya, others at length and with no shortage of tears, like Willow. Xander balanced the two extremes out with his characteristic humor.

Everyone spoke but Roger. He remained silent, listening to each testimonial and clinking his glass at the appropriate times. He and Riley exchanged a brief glance before Riley shook his head and turned away, a bitter laugh escaping his throat.

Buffy put a hand on his knee and smiled at the group. "Thank you all so much. Your sentiments really mean a lot."

An awkward silence fell upon the room until Claire spoke up. "Well, I guess I’ll clear the table, then." She began to stand up.

"Wait," Roger said suddenly. "I would like to say something."

This should be good, Riley thought bitterly, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.

Roger stood up and cleared his throat. He looked at Riley. "I, too, would like to offer my congratulations to both of you. I am happy that you have found your life mate, Riley. You deserve to be happy. I know you and I haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I have never wished for anything but the best for you. I hope you have a wonderful future together." He smiled and raised his glass before lowering it and taking a drink. He never took his eyes off his son.

He started to sit down when Riley’s slow, deliberate clapping stopped him. "Bravo, Dad. Well done," Riley said sarcastically. "Such pretty words. Did you make them up all by yourself or did Mom have to help you?" He laughed bitterly.

Roger looked directly at his son. "I meant every word, Riley." He set his glass down.

"Is that right?" Riley asked, standing up. He was unsteady and gripped the table for support. When he was more sure-footed, he looked around at the blank faces staring at him. "Did you hear that, guys? He meant every word. This coming from a man who’s barely said hello to me in the last 13 years." He turned to look at his father.

"Riley," Claire said softly. "This is not the time."

He turned on his mother, his eyes flashing. "This is as good a time as any. You wanted me to talk to my father. So now I’m talking to him!" He turned once again to his dad.

"Riley," Roger said evenly, putting his hand up to quiet him. "I’m not going to talk to you when you’re drunk."

Shaking his head, Riley laughed again-louder this time. "You don’t talk to me when I’m sober, so what the hell’s the difference?" He stepped away from the table and walked in his father’s direction, running his hand along the back of each chair along the way. When he was face to face with his father, he said, "So what is this, Dad? Trying to impress my friends with the picture of our perfect family? Well, they may be buying your crap, but I’m not." His head was swimming and he closed his eyes briefly to stop the spinning. He opened them when he felt a hand on his arm.

Roger gripped his son’s arm firmly and whispered, "Maybe you should sit down before you hurt yourself."

"Get your hands off me!" Riley hissed, shaking his hand off roughly and staggering backwards. He looked at his father, his eyes dark. "Such sincerity. Maybe you should drink something to wash it down. I wouldn’t want you to choke on it." He reached for his father’s wine glass and held it out to him.

Roger didn’t take it. He just watched his son helplessly.

"No?" Riley asked. "Fine." He tilted the glass to his lips and emptied it in one gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Buffy couldn’t tear her eyes from the scene. Part of her wanted to stop it, to tear Riley away from his self-destruction. But part of her said to leave him alone, to let him go through this himself. So she sat glued to her chair, watching.

"Riley, please," Roger said calmly. "I’m just trying to make things right."

But Riley was shaking his head, his voice getting louder with every word. "Right? You wanna make things right? That’s nice. But you know what? I’m not interested." He started to shake and he clenched his hand into a fist. He took a step towards Roger, his breath coming in short gasps.

His father stood his ground, unintimidated. "Please, son…"

"Don’t call me that," Riley spat. "I stopped being your son a long time ago."

"Please just listen to me…" Roger pleaded, his voice maintaining its low, even pitch.

Riley laughed harshly. "I seem to remember saying those exact words to you a few times myself. Coming to you on my knees, asking you to listen, trying to make you understand. And you turning your back on me every time." He paused and took another step closer, his face inches from his father’s. "Well, now it’s my turn to walk away. My turn to say the hell with you!" Riley slammed the wine glass down on the table, shattering it in his hand. Drops of blood fell onto the tablecloth. Riley didn’t seem to notice. He turned and began to walk away.

Roger finally broke. "Don’t you dare turn your back on me!"

Riley stopped and turned around. "It’s not a good feeling, is it? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t. One that I’ll believe." He eyed his father doubtfully, his mouth twisting into a crooked grin. When Roger didn’t respond, Riley grunted as if not surprised. "That’s what I thought," he said disgustedly and headed for the door.

"I’m dying," Roger said softly.

Riley stopped in the doorway, gripping the frame tightly. His shoulders slumped noticeably and his head bowed. But he did not turn around. He stayed that way for a long while as the group watched in silent horror and disbelief, processing everything they had just heard. Finally, without even a word, Riley stepped through the doorway and disappeared from sight.

The group sat in silence. Claire was crying softly next to Buffy, who was too shell-shocked to shed a tear. However, when she heard the screen door on the back porch snap shut, she got up and quickly ran outside.

It was still raining-not as hard as before, but steadily. And Riley was just standing in it, his back to the house.

Without hesitation, she ran out into the rain after him. She stepped in front of him and looked up into his face, watching as the rain soaked his skin. She barely felt the raindrops herself.

He looked down at her, but didn’t seem to focus. It was as though he was staring through her. "He’s dying," he said absently. "The son of a bitch is dying and now he wants forgiveness. Now he wants absolution." He turned away, took a step past Buffy.

She didn’t know what to say. Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she turned and reached for his hand.

But he shook her off, turning to face her, his brow creased in confusion. "For almost half my life, he’s barely acknowledged me. And now that his is ending, he’s in a hurry to make things right." He shook his head slowly, as if he was trying to sort things out in his mind, trying to make them make sense. "If he wasn’t dying, do you think he’d even give a damn?" His eyes were pleading with her to tell him what he wanted to hear, to give him the answer he longed for.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. "I don’t know," she whispered, her heart breaking.

"No," Riley managed. "I didn’t think so." He stood a moment longer, weaving unsteadily under the weight of his pain and the continuing effects of the wine. Then he collapsed to his knees and reached for Buffy, pulling her to him. He buried his face in her stomach, holding on to her as if she was the only thing preventing him from falling over the edge.

Buffy felt his body shake with the force of his sobs, the sounds of which were muffled by the rain pounding in her ears. She tangled her fingers through his rain-soaked hair and let her own tears flow, letting them mix indistinguishably with the rain soaking her face.

He held her for a long time and then suddenly pushed her away and stood up. His eyes were wild and held a desperation that Buffy had never seen. "I’ve got to get out of here," he muttered and ran from her, towards the car.

"Riley!" she yelled, moving to run after him. But a hand gripping her arm, stopping her.

"Let him go," Roger said softly.

Buffy nodded. She watched helplessly as Riley’s taillights disappeared into the rainy night.

She had put up no argument as he led her back into the house. No one had moved from their spots at the table, still at a loss-for words, for feelings. They stared at the two rain-soaked individuals as they stood in the doorway. Without Riley.

Roger had taken a deep breath and explained to them that he had terminal lung cancer brought on by thirty-five years of smoking. That he had quit five years ago at his doctor’s insistence, but that it was too late. He probably had, at the most, a year left.

No one said a word, just nodded in comprehension. Roger had looked at each face one at a time, meeting their eyes. Then he had sighed and said softly, "I guess that’s it, then," walking out of the room.

Buffy had remained in the doorway, alone.

The rain had finally stopped. Buffy sat curled up in the rocking chair on the back porch, her legs tucked under her, wrapped in a blanket. Hours had passed-it was the middle of the night-and still no sign of Riley. But she kept watching the night, straining her eyes to see any sign of headlights in the distance.

Everyone had gone to bed after reassuring her for the millionth time that he was fine. She knew they meant well, but the only person she wanted to hear say that Riley was fine was Riley. And he wasn’t there to tell her.

This whole thing is my fault, she thought wearily. If I hadn’t wanted to come here, none of this would have happened. But she hadn’t known.

She closed her eyes and rocked gently back and forth, trying to let the motion calm her. But it didn’t work. Because when she closed her eyes, all she could see were all the horrible things that could have happened to her husband in the dark, rainy night.

She opened her eyes and tightened the blanket around her. She snapped her head around when she heard someone open the door and step out onto the porch. Her eyes met with Roger’s.

"I know where Riley is," he said simply.

They walked into the police station. "Hey, Charlie," Roger said, shaking hands with the man behind the desk. "How is he?"

"He’s fine. Hasn’t said a word since we brought him in." Charlie stood up. "You can take him home. We didn’t charge him with anything." He reached for his keys.

"I’m not here to take him home, Charlie. This is his wife, Buffy. I was wondering if she could stay here with him tonight," Roger answered calmly.

Charlie looked at his old friend curiously. "Now that’s an odd request, Rog."

Roger smiled slightly. "I know it is. But he’d be better off here tonight, believe me. And I don’t think he should be alone."

Looking at Buffy, Charlie asked, "Is that alright with you, ma’am?"

Buffy nodded weakly. "Please. I need to see him."

He studied her a moment longer before turning back to Roger. "Well, it’s alright with me, then."

"Thanks," Roger said, turning to leave.

"You don’t want to see him?" Charlie asked after him.

Roger shook his head. "He doesn’t want to see me." He looked at Buffy. "Take care of him."

Buffy nodded silently, watching him as he stepped through the doors and to his truck parked in front. Then she turned back to Charlie. "Can I see him now?"

"Sure," Charlie answered, touching her back gently and leading her down the hall to where the holding cells were located. There were only four cells and all of them were empty except for one.

Riley lay on his back on the cot, his arm draped over his eyes. One leg was hanging over the edge of the cot, his foot resting on the floor. The other leg was bent, knee in the air.

"Hey, Riley," Charlie said. "Your wife is here."

Taking his eye away from his eyes, Riley sat up quickly, staring at his wife through the bars. "Buffy," he said, as if he couldn’t believe she was really there.

Charlie unlocked the door and slid it open, the metal sliding against itself loudly. Buffy stepped into the small 10x10 cell without hesitation, listening as the door clanged shut behind her. "I’ll leave you two alone," Charlie said softly and walked away.

The couple stared wordlessly at each other for a long time. Just seeing him, being in the same room with him, made Buffy feel better. He was alive. Everything else could be worked out. She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. "I was so scared," she cried, her lips pressed against his ear. "I thought I’d never see you again."

Riley held her tightly. "I’m sorry. For everything. I’ve ruined everything."

She pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, wiping her own with the back of her hand. "Don’t say that. Everything’s okay as long as we’re together." She touched his cheek and smiled. His eyes were filled with sadness and were still a little red, but at least they were clear and bright. She moved and sat beside him, covering his hand with hers.

Riley leaned forward on his knees, staring at his hands, noticing the dried blood on his left one. He flexed it and opened it, studying the cuts on his palm. For the first time that night he noticed them, noticed the dull throbbing. "I don’t even remember doing this," he said absently, without looking up.

"You broke a wine glass," Buffy whispered, looking at him closely.

"Huh," Riley said in reply. He turned away from the injury and looked up into his wife’s green eyes. For a long moment he didn’t say a word, just stared into her eyes. Then he sighed and asked wearily, "How did I get to this place?"

She knew he wasn’t referring to the cell. His voice, his eyes, told her that he was struggling to figure out how things ever got so out of hand.

"How are the boys?" he asked suddenly, looking at her urgently.

Buffy smiled and squeezed his hand. "They’re fine, Riley. They miss you."

Riley seemed to relax a bit at her words, the corners of his mouth turning up in a slight smile. "That’s good." He pushed himself further back on the cot, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.

Buffy scooted next to him, curling her legs under her and wrapping her arms around him. She snuggled under his arm when he put it around her and rested her head on his shoulder.

"What a romantic place to spend the night," Riley commented.

"Oh, it’s not so bad. The company’s pretty good." She smiled up at him.

He pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. "I’m glad you’re here."

"You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that," Buffy whispered.

Riley sighed heavily. "I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you this past week. I promised myself that nothing would ruin this week for you and I went and did just that. And yet you’re here with me."

Buffy squeezed him tighter. "Of course I’m here. I’ll always be here for you. To listen, to talk, to say nothing at all. Whatever you need."

"What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Buffy laughed. "You were just so cute. I couldn’t resist."

They sat in silence for almost an hour, just breathing together. Riley ran his fingers through her hair absently, thinking. There was so much he had to tell her. But he didn’t know where to start. Putting everything into words was something he had avoided. Maybe that was part of the problem.

"I always knew my father wanted me to be a farmer. He had been grooming me for it since I was a kid," he began slowly, his voice clear.

Buffy sat up and faced him, her eyes wide. She opened her mouth to speak, but he waved her off.

"It’s time," he said simply.

She nodded. "Okay."

Riley continued, taking a deep breath. "His father was a farmer and so was his father before that. He just assumed that I would carry on the tradition. But it’s not what I wanted. I wanted more out of life than what Huxley, Iowa could offer." He closed his eyes briefly, remembering.

"I helped him with the work and he taught me everything he knew. But I hated it. And I resented that he made me do it. I kept trying to tell him that I wanted to go to college, to get out of Huxley. But he would just shake his head and say that my future was already set.

"Well, one day during my senior year in high school, this recruiter came to our school offering exactly what I wanted-a way out. So I enlisted. No questions asked. And of course I didn’t tell my father. I knew that he would just try to talk me out of it.

"So the day after graduation, I left home without warning, leaving nothing behind but a note telling my parents what I’d done." Riley paused, rubbing his eyes.

Buffy listened as he told her about how he went back after basic training, tried to explain why he’d joined the Marines. How his mom had understood, but his dad had refused to listen.

"He wouldn’t even look at me," Riley said softly. "I had betrayed him, had let him down. It didn’t matter that my brother didn’t want to be a farmer, either. I was the oldest and I had disappointed him." He sighed, shaking his head. "I tried several times to talk to him, but it was always the same thing. He is a proud man, Buffy. He would never admit when he was wrong."

He stood up quickly and walked to the door, slipping his arms through the bars. "The last straw for me was when he didn’t come to our wedding. Mom told me he couldn’t get away. But I knew it was because he didn’t want to. After that, I gave up trying. Why should I keep trying when he clearly wanted nothing to do with me?" He paused. "We’ve barely spoken since. The last time I saw him before this trip was when I brought Michael here shortly after he was born." He took a breath. "More of the same."

He returned to the cot and sat down again, looking into Buffy’s eyes. "It wasn’t supposed to be this way," he said. "I thought I could handle it. I’d ignore him, he’d ignore me, everything would be fine. But when I saw him, it all came back and I let it get to me. I managed to turn what was meant to be a fun trip into the vacation from hell." He turned away.

Buffy reached for his hand and spoke softly, watching him closely. "Maybe it’s a good thing that this happened now." When Riley looked at her like she was crazy, she explained. "All I’m saying is that the point of this whole trip was to mark a new beginning in our lives. We came here to renew our commitment to each other, but to also look towards the future and let go of the past. Honey, we can’t move on until you come to terms with your father." She smiled at him.

Riley touched his hand to her cheek and looked into her eyes. "God, I love you," he whispered. Then, after a brief pause, he said, "I just don’t know if I can. How do I talk to him after all this time, after everything I said?"

"He wants to talk to you, Riley. He’s trying to reach out to you. Just go to him. That’s the first step. If you don’t do it now, you may never do it. Don’t let him die thinking you hate him. Because once he’s gone, it’ll be too late to go back," Buffy whispered, her voice shaking.

He looked at her, tears suddenly springing to his eyes. He had almost forgotten the last two words his father had said to him-"I’m dying." Blinking, his eyes wide, he asked, "What does he…?"

But Buffy understood. "Cancer," she whispered. "He’s got lung cancer."

Riley just nodded, unable to speak. He started to tremble uncontrollably.

Buffy reached for him and pulled him to her, putting her arms around him. She could feel his tears on her skin, could hear his breath coming in jagged bursts.

He tightened his arms around her and let himself get lost in her embrace-all the bitterness and pain of the last thirteen years melting away with each passing second.

Luggage and garment bags were piled next to the back door when the battle-weary couple walked up the steps in the morning light. The rain clouds had cleared and the sun shone brightly. They looked at each other curiously. Buffy shrugged and shook her head.

When they entered the living room, they found the whole gang there. The looks on their faces were part worry, part annoyance, and part relief at seeing them again.

"Daddy!" Michael screamed as he stood up and ran over to Riley.

Riley leaned down and scooped up his young son, kissing him on the cheek. "Hey, big guy," he said, grinning.

"You’re hurt," Michael said, pointing to Riley’s now bandaged hand. He looked at his father, concerned.

Flexing his hand, Riley reassured him. "This?" he said cheerfully. "It’s just a scratch." He looked around the room at his friends. "Good morning," he said softly, his smile diminishing.

The group looked at him silently for a long moment. Willow finally spoke up. "How ya doing?" she asked gently, looking at him carefully.

Riley tried to play it off. "Besides a headache, I’m okay. Couldn’t be better." He tried to smile. He looked around the room again and didn’t see any smiles in return. He shook his head and looked at the floor. "Look," he said, focusing his eyes on the group again. "I just want to apologize for last night. I had a little too much to drink and…"

"A little? That’s an understatement," Graham said sarcastically, grinning slightly.

Riley smirked. "Okay. I was drunk. But that’s no excuse." He paused and took a breath. "I know I’ve made this week less than fun for all of you and I want to apologize. I’ve been a real jerk. And now I’ve run you off." He motioned to the luggage by the door.

"You didn’t run us off, Riley," Willow said carefully. "We…we just thought that after everything…that you’d want to leave early." She looked at him cautiously.

"No," Riley said quietly. "I’m not leaving yet. There’re a couple things I have to do first." He felt Buffy’s hand touch his arm and he looked at her. She smiled up at him.

Setting Michael on his feet, he looked at his friends once again and said, "Don’t go anywhere." Then he turned to his wife, kissed her quickly, and went outside.

Riley stood in the barn doorway, looking around at the place he hadn’t set foot in in almost fourteen years. The last time he was here had been the time he came back after basic training. His father had told him to leave and then had walked away.

He took a deep breath to try to calm his nerves. He didn’t know what he would say after all this time. He was just hoping that it would come to him when he saw his father’s face.

Then he heard it-a banging noise coming from the tractor. Riley walked around it, following the sound. He found his father bending over the engine, cursing under his breath.

"Transmission again?" Riley asked.

Roger snapped around to face his son. "Riley," he said, surprised. Then he tilted his head towards the tractor and said, "Damn thing’s acting up as usual." A small smile spread across his face.

A silence fell between them as the two men shifted uneasily, searching for the right words. Years of avoidance made it difficult to strike up a conversation.

Riley shoved his hands in his pockets and swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He looked his father in the eyes calmly and without anger for the first time in years. "I’m sorry for what I said last night. I was out of line." His voice was clear and steady.

Roger studied his son closely, wiping his hands slowly on a rag he pulled from his back pocket. He didn’t say a word for a long moment, gathering his thoughts. Then , after a lengthy silence, he finally spoke. "So was I."

Shaking his head, Riley opened his mouth to speak. But his father raised a hand, cutting him off.

"I had no right to do that to you. I put you on the spot and I’m sorry," he said slowly.

Another silence fell between father and son.

"Why didn’t you tell me you had cancer?" Riley asked.

Roger let out his breath. "I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me. And I didn’t want you to think that that was the reason I was doing…this."

"Why are you doing this? Why now, after so much time?" Riley felt himself getting angry again, but fought back the emotion. Even though he was starting to come to terms with everything, it still hurt to think about it.

Roger looked at the ground and kicked at the dirt with his boot. "Because it’s long overdue, Riley." He closed his eyes and drew in his breath slowly, trying to find the courage to continue. He raised his sad eyes to meet his son’s. "I keep remembering that day when you were eighteen. When you came home from basic training to tell me why you had left. We were standing in almost this same spot and you said to me, ‘Dad. I wish you would try to understand. I did what I had to do.’ It sticks out in my memory, Riley. That day was the day this whole thing started." He shook his head sadly.

It felt strange to hear his father recount that day. Riley almost felt like that scared 18-year-old kid he had been all those years ago. "What I remember most about that day was the look in your eyes when you told me to leave. You said I was a disappointment, that I had let you down. You wanted nothing more to do with me." Riley felt his chin start to tremble and he clenched his jaw to steady it. Surprisingly, he saw the same reaction on his father’s face.

"I was wrong to say that, Riley. You have never let me down. I said that to you because it was easier than admitting that I was the one who had let you down." He paused, trying to control his emotions. "I always knew that you wanted more than being a farmer in Huxley, Iowa. But I thought that I could make you see things the way I saw them, make you love it the way I did. That’s why I always made you work with me, always tried to teach you the tricks of the trade. And when you left…without warning…I knew I had failed you-as a person, as a father. I had been so consumed with trying to make you live out my dreams for you, that I had driven you away. So when you came back, I took it out on you. Seeing you just reminded me of how much I had failed you." Roger stopped, looking at his son.

Riley couldn’t believe it. All these years of not speaking, all the years of pain and resentment, were due to miscommunication and a chronic case of stubborn pride. "So why? All the times I came back, all the times I tried to…?" He couldn’t finish. He stared at his dad, tears of frustration filling his eyes.

"I don’t know. It was just easier to let it go on than it was to say I was sorry. And after a while, you stopped coming. We stopped speaking. And I knew that I had done it again. I had made you hate me even more, if that was possible," Roger tried to explain.

"I never hated you, Dad," Riley heard himself say, although his mind was racing with a million other things. "I thought you hated me…"

"God," Roger muttered. "I can’t believe this. All that time wasted for something so small. I’ve missed so much of your life, Riley, so much of my grandsons’ loves. I never even got to meet my granddaughter…" He was shaking his head slowly, recounting all the things in life that he had let slip away. "So much time wasted, and now I have no time left to make up for it." He was no longer looking at Riley. Rather, he was blindly staring past him.

Riley was watching him. Something was happening to his father, something that he had never seen before. He had a faraway look in his eyes and he was trembling. He reached a hand out to Riley.

"Son, I need to tell you something. Something I should’ve said to you a long time ago." He seemed to come back to his senses and once again focused his gaze on his son. He took a step towards him. "I’m proud of you. I’ve always been proud of you. You’re a good man, Riley. A good husband, a good father." He grasped Riley’s shoulder tightly, almost surprised when he didn’t pull away. "I wish I could say the same thing about myself. Because in the end, that’s all that matters-how you lived your life."

Riley looked into his father’s eyes and for the first time, he felt as if he knew the man staring back at him. They really weren’t all that different. They both needed forgiveness.

"I love you, Dad." Riley couldn’t believe he had actually said the words that had eluded him for years. He had always felt them-that’s why it had always hurt so much. But he had been too hurt and angry to say them.

Roger’s reaction was gradual. His eyes teared up, his grip on Riley’s shoulder tightened, and his breathing quickened. Then he pulled his son into a tight embrace, grasping his shirt in both fists. "I love you too, son," he barely managed to say. And when he felt Riley’s arms tighten around him, he finally let go, crying into his son’s shoulder.

The group sat in almost complete silence. The whole week was supposed to have led up to this day-Buffy and Riley’s nuptials. But after last night, they all figured that that was no longer on the agenda. Which was okay. Riley’s state of mind, his well-being were much more important. He had been very upset-and it had landed him in jail. The last thing he wanted was to stay another day.

And Buffy had been stingy with the details. After Riley’s hasty departure a few minutes before, all she would say was that there was something he had to take care of. Then she had endured a few bad jokes about jail from Xander. When she glared at him, he gave up.

So there they sat, each filling in the blanks with their own theories, trying to ignore the tension that still lingered in the house. The television blared in the background, filling in the void created by the absence of conversation.

Suddenly, Riley peeked his head around the corner, an easy grin spread across his face. "Hey guys!" he exclaimed cheerfully. His father stood behind him, looking at everyone over Riley’s shoulder. Riley raised his eyebrows, grinning. "Beautiful day for a wedding, don’t you think?"

The End