Road Trip

            "I don't like this."
            Riley Finn crossed his arms hard over his chest, clenching his teeth.  He couldn't deal with all this standing around and waiting.
            "There's not much else we can do, Riley."  Willow's gentle voice intended to soothe, but Riley was in no mood to be soothed.
            "In the meantime, Buffy's dying."
            "She'll be all right," said Xander forcefully.
            "Not if we just sit around here doing nothing."  He fell into a chair, exasperated.  This wasn't the way things were supposed to work.  He wanted to find something tangible to do, something he could pummel, or, better yet, kill.  Instead, he could do nothing but sit around waiting for Giles to come up with a spell, or a plan, while Buffy lay upstairs in her room, silent, unresponsive.
            "I'm going up to see her," he finally said, pushing out of the chair.
            "Riley--" Xander started.
            "It's okay, Xander," Willow broke in.
            Riley trudged up the stairs to Buffy's room.  She still lay on the bed, exactly as she'd been the last time he'd seen her.  Joyce sat next to the bed, just watching.  She managed a wan smile as Riley came in.
            "How is she?" Riley asked.
            "The same."  Joyce took a long breath.  "Has Giles found anything yet?"
            "No."
            Joyce's lips trembled, but she regained control before she spoke again.  "I haven't been this afraid for her since...since the last time she was nearly comatose in this bed."
            "This has happened before?"
            "Not this exactly.  About a year-and-a-half ago, she was infected by demon blood."
            "Oh, right.  She told me about that.  She could read minds for a while."  He paused.  "She didn't tell me about the comatose part.  What happened?"
            "Giles found the cure.  They got the heart of the other demon and made a potion and cured her."
            "'They?'"
            "Well, Angel.  He got the demon heart.  Brought it back in broad daylight."  She shook her head, remembering.  "He came in the front door with smoke rolling off him.  He was lucky he didn't incinerate himself."
            Riley nodded, trying not to clench his teeth.  He was getting royally tired of Angel stories.  "Well, if there's any demon-killing to be done, I'm good to go."
            Joyce looked at him in sudden realization, and a little chagrin.  "You don't like to hear about Angel, do you?"
            "I'm sorry--does it show?"  He mustered a smile.  "If Giles found the cure last time, I'm sure he'll come through this time, too."
            He let himself look one last time at Buffy, resisting the urge to go to her, touch her, hold her.  But they weren't sure if touching her was safe.  He went to Joyce instead, laid a hand on her shoulder.  "She'll be all right."
            Downstairs, the mood had changed.  Riley took the last few stairs at a run, seeing Giles in the living room, laying books out on the coffee table.
            "You found something?"
            Giles looked up.  "Yes, I believe I have."  Willow knelt on the floor next to the table, looking at the first text.
            "I think this is it, Giles," she said.  Riley recognized the excitement in her voice and went to stand by the table, looking down at the book.  It was in a language he didn't recognize.
            Giles laid down another book.  Tara positioned herself in front of that one, reading intently.  This one was in Latin, but Riley still didn't recognize some of the words.
            "I'm having some trouble with the translations," Giles said, "but I found two more descriptions of the spell for cross-reference."
            Tara looked up.  "This looks fairly straight-forward, Giles."
            Giles couldn't quite meet her eyes.  "Yes, well, I just wanted to be sure."
            "What is it?" Riley asked.
            "This is a very old spell," Willow said.  "It only affects women, and frankly I find it very offensive."
            "Me, too," said Tara, not quite as emphatically.
            "How can a spell be offensive?" Riley wondered.
            "Well--"  Willow was working up a good-sized snit.  "--it defines a woman's essence by the men who have--and I'm quoting here--'owned' her.  It's just wrong."
            "But how does it work?" Xander put in.  "How can we help Buffy?"
            "Yes, I do believe that is the salient point," said Giles.  "I find it all rather offensive, myself, particularly this translation."  He laid a third book on the table.  "But Xander's right.  We need to focus on working the counter-spell."
            "So what is the spell to begin with?" Riley asked.  "And how did Buffy get caught in it?"
            "You said you and Buffy followed a Trendolian demon into an underground crypt.  I believe the spell was...hung...in a sense, in the entryway, and you triggered it when you went in."
            "And I wasn't affected because I'm a man."  Riley looked glumly down at the books.  Could all that ancient gobbledy-gook really hold the key to Buffy's recovery?
            Xander frowned.  "Why would it be so gender-specific?"
            "I'm not certain.  Perhaps the demon anticipated a Slayer--always a woman--or perhaps he wasn't aware of the spell's effects.  It doesn't matter, in any case."  Giles turned to Willow.  "Do you understand the setup of the counter-spell?"
            "Yes," Willow's voice was tight.
            "So what do we have to do?" asked Riley.  The extraneous byplay was getting on his nerves.
            "Buffy's essence has been removed," Tara said.  She spoke calmly, moreso even than Giles.  Riley focused on her, glad somebody was hanging onto her composure.  "It's in a sort of...alternate dimension."
            "How do we get it back?"
            "The spell defines Buffy's essence according to a sort of key that's based on..."  Here Tara faltered.  "It's based on...well, like Willow said, it's keyed to men who have...'possessed' her."
            "Men?" Riley said.
            "Yes.  It's a very patriarchal spell."  Willow's indignation had returned full-force.  "The only way to free her essence is to send, and I quote: 'The one who tore her, the one who owns her, and the one whose need has never been fulfilled.'"
            "What the hell does that mean?" said Xander.
            "This one is a bit...gentler," Giles put in.  "'The first, the present, and the unrequited.'"
            Riley didn't know much about magic, but this was starting to make a nasty kind of sense.  "It's talking about...men she's been with."
            "So I guess you would be the current owner," said Xander, his voice a little edgier than usual.
            "I don't own her," said Riley.  "Not even close."
            "It's just the terminology of the spell," said Tara.  "Even if we don't agree with it, we have to follow it to set up the counter-spell."
            "So what about the other two?" Riley asked.  "The first, and the unrequited?"
            "Who's unrequited?" said Xander.
            Willow rolled her eyes at him.  "You are, dummy."
            "Oh, come on!" Xander protested.  "I got over that a long time ago."
            "Yeah, right."  Willow turned to Giles.  "So that's two out of three, and we all know who the first was, so I guess we have to go get him."
            "Do we know?" said Riley.
            Xander gaped at him.  "You don't know?  C'mon, you know."
            Riley shook his head.  "No--" Then it clicked, and he ground his molars together.  "Oh.  Him.  It's him, isn't it?  Please tell me it's not Angel."
            "Well, buddy, we could tell you that, but it'd be a big, fat lie."  Xander didn't sound much happier with the situation than Riley was.
            "Well, then," Riley said tightly.  "Somebody call him, tell him to get down here."
            "No," said Giles.
            Riley turned toward him.  "No?  Why no?"
            "It's ten a.m.  He can't get here by himself.  LA isn't that far.  One of us should drive down and get him and bring him back.  That way he'll be here well before nightfall, and we can take the intervening time to work out the rest of the details of the counter-spell."
            "I'll go," said Riley.
            "No."  This was Willow.  "Neither one of you guys should go.  You won't be nice to him."
            "We don't need to be nice," said Riley.  "We just need to get him here."
            "Riley's right," said Giles.  "And Willow, I need you here to help with the translations."
            "I'll go," said Xander.
            "You won't be nice to him, either," Willow protested.
            "I will.  I promise.  Just for you."
            Riley didn't like any of this.  He shoved his hands into his pockets.  "I'll go with you, then."  At Willow's look, he added, "I'll behave myself."  He swallowed, thinking of Buffy upstairs, silent in her bed, and of the dark, decidedly unfriendly vampire who had beaten the shit out of him not that long ago.  "What if he won't come?"
            "Oh, he'll come," said Xander, heading for the door.  "It's Buffy."
#
            The drive to LA wasn't very long, but it was long enough for Riley to think far too much.  He'd managed to push away thoughts of Buffy's dying, but they still popped into his head.  Other thoughts zooming around his brain weren't any cheerier.
            "It was my fault."
            Xander looked at him, frowning.  Riley should have insisted on driving, but Xander's car had a bigger backseat, and they would need that to keep Angel from burning to a crisp on the drive back.
            "How do you figure?" said Xander.
            "I took her into that crypt."
            "You think she wouldn't have ended up in there, anyway?  This is demon hunting we're talking about."
            "Still."
            "Still, nothing.  This is in no way your fault."
            "I should have protected her."
            "Nobody protects Buffy.  It's pointless.  You try, you get your ass kicked, then she comes in like the Masked Avenger or something and rescues you.  It's humiliating."
            Riley chuckled.  "Voice of experience?"
            "You betcha.  Ask Angel.  He'll tell you the same thing.  And he's got that whole super vampire strength going for him, too."
            "And she can still kick his ass?"
            "Oh, yeah."
            "That I'd like to see."
            "That I have seen, my friend.  Warmed the cockles of my heart, whatever that means."
            Riley studied Xander a moment, judging his reaction.  He'd never felt like Xander particularly liked him, but he'd never sensed overt hostility, either.
            "I know why I hate Angel," he said finally.  "Why do you?"
            Xander seemed surprised at the question.  "What's not to hate?  I mean, he's got the hair, and the shoulders, and the coat, and the broodiness...plus there's the whole thing where every once in a while he goes insane and murders your friends."
            "That's avoidable, though."
            "Yeah, and in the meantime he's not getting any so he's that much broodier."
            Riley nodded reflectively.  "You sure you don't just hate all of Buffy's boyfriends?"
            "Hey, c'mon, Riley.  I like you."  He smiled convincingly, then let it drop.  "Yeah, I guess you're right.  I really don't.  No offense."
            "None taken."
            Riley stared out the window, feeling pretty broody, himself.  He had a horrible, dragging feeling that this wasn't going to go well.
            Angel was on the phone when they arrived, but he was ready to go, a pile of heavy blankets waiting next to the door.
            "No, I'm going to be out of town."  He sounded like he was trying very hard to keep his tone polite, ending up just on the right side of successful.  "It's very urgent.  I'm sorry, but it can't be helped..."
            He turned toward the door, caught sight of Riley and Xander.  "Look, Mr. Benson, I apologize, but I have to go.  I assure you, Mr. Price is very competent.  He'll call you this evening."  Angel tipped the telephone away from his mouth.  "I'll be right there."  Then, back to the phone-- "A money-back guarantee?  You'll have to talk to Miss Chase about that.  She handles all the financial matters.  Yes.  Yes, sir.  Thank you for your understanding."  He hung up the phone and stalked toward the door.  "Let's go."
            "Is Cordy around?" said Xander.
            "Out to lunch."  Angel grabbed the pile of blankets.  "You parked out front?"  This was addressed to Riley.
            "Yeah, I parked right outside," said Xander.
            Angel rolled his eyes.  "God, you're driving?"
            Xander glared.  "Yeah, well, we coulda wedged your big ass into the back of Riley's car, but we figured you'd be a little more comfortable in mine."
            To Riley's surprise, Angel looked chagrined.  "Sorry."  He wrapped one of the blankets around his shoulders, and when he spoke again his voice was quiet, cracking a little with concern.  "How is she?"
            "We don't know," Riley said.  "She was still unconscious when we left."
            "She's alive," said Xander.  "That's what matters."
            Angel nodded.  "You guys go get the car door open.  I'll make a run for it."
            Riley went out, Xander behind him, and pulled the back door of the car open while Xander got back into the driver's seat.  With another blanket over his head, Angel ran from the door to the car and wedged himself down onto the floor in front of the back seat.  He'd moved fast, but even so, smoke billowed off the blankets as Riley closed the door behind him.
            Riley went back around the car and climbed into the passenger seat.
            "Mmm.  Singed vampire," said Xander, starting the car.  "It's a lovely odor."
            Angel did smell a little toastier than Riley had expected.  "You okay back there?"  He leaned over the back seat to look, but Angel hadn't come out from under the blankets.
            "Ah, I let a finger slip out."  Angel's voice was muffled.  "I think I burned off a fingernail."
            Riley winced.  "Ouch."
            "I'll live.  Just drive."
            Xander pulled out, his driving, as usual, a little twitchier than Riley found comfortable.  He looked into the back seat again.  Angel had arranged himself so his face was in a shadow, and had uncovered from the neck up.  As usual, he looked grim and dangerous.  Not for the first time, Riley wondered exactly how a person could tell if Angel had gone bad and lost his soul.  It seemed to Riley to be a rather subtle distinction, but he also got the impression that Buffy and the others knew a hell of a lot more about him than Riley had been told.  Well, of course Buffy did--
            He pushed his brain away from that train of thought.  That whole situation just bothered him too much.  After all, he'd known Buffy wasn't a virgin--if nothing else, there'd been the thing with Parker, which Riley had known about.  But Angel was a vampire.  He didn't look like one now, but Riley had seen the teeth and felt the preternatural strength exercised upside his own head.  And all Riley's training told him vampires were for killing, not for sleeping with.  And the thought that Buffy--the frigging Slayer, for God's sake--could actually have been in love with one--
            "Anybody up there got a Band-Aid?" Angel said suddenly.
            Riley blinked at the incongruousness of that, but Xander took it in stride.
            "Riley, there's a first aid kit in the glove compartment."
            Riley found it and handed it back to Angel, awkward because of the angle.
            "Thanks," said Angel.  "You keep your car equipped for injuries now?"
            "Hey, you hang around with Buffy long enough, you learn to pack a couple Band-Aids."
            Angel chuckled--more incongruity.  Riley cleared his throat.  They were going to be in this car awhile--maybe he should at least make an effort.
            "Angel--" he started.  "Um...thanks for coming out on such short notice."
            Angel's eyes flicked up to meet Riley's, his brows drawn down again.  "It's Buffy."
            The look on his face set Riley on edge.  In the long run, this was really what it came down to.  Why he hated Angel.  Because Angel was still in love with Buffy.  And, as much as he wanted to tell himself it wasn't true, Riley had an unsettled, insecure type of feeling that Buffy might still be in love with Angel.
#
            They drove in silence for a time.  A noise from the back made Riley think Angel might have fallen asleep, but he'd covered his face back up, so there was no way to be sure other than to poke him or something, and Riley just wasn't curious enough to start poking a possibly sleeping vampire.
            "We need gas," Xander said presently, "and I gotta pee."
            Riley looked at his watch.  They were making good time.  "Go ahead and stop."
            Xander slanted him a look.  "I wasn't asking for your permission."
            Riley decided not to say anything to that.  He had a feeling this might be a good opportunity for him to learn to keep his mouth shut.
            Xander pulled into the next gas station and got out of the car.
            "I'll fill it up," Riley volunteered.
            "Okay," said Xander.  "You want something to drink?"
            "Yeah, get me a soda."
            "What about you, Angel?  You okay back there?  Need anything?"
            "O positive?" said Angel's muffled voice.  "Too much to ask for an AB, I guess, though the bouquet's better."  At the resounding silence, he flipped back the edge of the blanket to look at Riley.  "Hey, I thought it was funny."
            "A hint," said Xander.  "Vampire jokes?  Rarely funny."
            "Right," said Angel.  "While, by contrast, you're so consistently hilarious."
            Riley laughed in spite of himself.  Xander, looking offended, glared at both of them and stalked off.
            Riley got the gas started pumping, then took a seat back in the car to wait.
            "Willow told me what happened," Angel said.  He had managed to sit up on the floor, keeping his face in a shadow, the rest of him still protected by the blankets.
            Riley leaned over the back seat to look at him.  "About the crypt?"
            "Yeah.  I hope you're not blaming yourself."
            "Why would you care?"
            Angel was silent a moment.  "If you're gonna be with her, you gotta understand the score.  You can't protect her.  You do what you can and then you get the hell out of her way."
            This was not a conversation Riley wanted to have.  "You think you're the best person to be handing out relationship advice?"
            "Maybe not, but I'm one of your better sources for Buffy advice."
            Anger flared.  "And why would you be so interested in dishing it out?"
            "Because if you try too hard, if you start thinking you can keep her safe by getting in her way, you're gonna get her killed."
            Xander returned just then with soda.  He handed a can to Riley, who took the opportunity to cool down as he popped the tab and took a swig.
            Angel wasn't done, though.  "So don't blame yourself.  This kind of thing, it's an occupational hazard when you fight demons.  You get shot, you get skewered, you get ensorcelled, you get impregnated--"  He broke off.  "Well, not me personally, not that last one, anyway."
            Xander's eyes widened.  "What did you do to my Cordy?"
            "I didn't do anything to her," said Angel, indignant.  "And she's not exactly 'your' Cordy anymore, is she?"
            The gas pump clicked off, and Riley stood.  "Jeez, Xander, you're just unrequited all over the place, aren't you?"
            "Shut up, Riley."
#
            They'd been driving about another half-hour when Riley's cell phone rang.  The sound startled him; he'd been staring out the window at the passing landscape, hypnotized by it into not thinking about Buffy--or at least, not much.
            Willow's voice greeted him from the other end of the connection.  It was crackly, though, as if Riley were out of range.
            "Where are you?" Willow asked.
            Riley looked at the road sign.  "We should be there in about an hour."  That didn't seem right, though.  They'd driven an hour already when Xander had stopped.
            "You guys...six hours..."
            "What?"  The connection really shouldn't be cutting out like that.  "Willow!  What did you say?"
            "I said you guys have been gone for six hours."
            "No, we haven't."
            "What?"
            "I said we haven't."
            Xander looked curiously at Riley.  "What's going on?"
            Riley held up a hand.  "What, Willow?"
            "There's something...   You guys...trap."  Willow's voice cracked and popped and finally the connection dropped off.
            By this time Angel, too, had poked himself into the proceedings.  He sat up in the back as best he could, keeping himself out of the sunlight.  "What did she say?"
            "I'm not sure.  The signal kept cutting out."  Riley dialed Buffy's home number, but the connection wouldn't go through.  "Dammit."
            Angel patted himself down, eventually producing a cell phone from an inside pocket of his coat.  "Here, try mine."
            Riley did, but with no better results.  Shaking his head, he handed the phone back to Angel.
            "There's no way we should be having so much trouble calling Sunnydale," said Riley.
            "Maybe there's sunspots?" Xander suggested.
            Angel frowned thoughtfully.  "How long have we been on the road?"
            "Clock says forty-five minutes," Xander said, then, "That can't be right."
            "No, it can't."  Riley looked out the window.  The road sign passing them was exactly the same sign he'd seen a few minutes ago.
            "Willow said we've been gone six hours."
            "Six hours?" Angel repeated.  "That's impossible."
            "So's forty-five minutes," put in Xander.
            "What else did she say?" Angel asked.
            Riley shrugged.  "She said something about a trap."  He looked again out the window.  The same damn sign.  Again.  "What the hell is going on?"
            "Pull over," said Angel.
            Xander looked at the rearview mirror, then blinked and instead turned his head a little toward the back seat.  "Hard to talk to you in the rearview when you don't reflect."
            "Pull over," Angel repeated, more firmly this time.
            "Oooo-kay."
            Xander pulled onto the shoulder and stopped the car.  "So, Angel, I'm thinking you have some kind of theory?"
            "Yeah."
            Riley looked back at him, as well.  "Care to share?"
            Angel, brows knitted, said nothing.  Instead he lifted his hand and held it out into the sunlight that filled the front seat.
            "What--" Riley started, then realized what Angel was doing.  His hand was in full-on sunlight--and nothing was happening.
            Angel's mouth tightened.  He jerked his hand back and opened the car door, stepping out into the sun.
            "What the hell is going on?" Riley said.  Xander just stared for a few seconds, stunned, before regaining enough composure to get out of the car.
            "This isn't real," said Angel.  "If the sunlight's not real, then how can any of the rest of it be?"
            Xander joined them by the side of the road, staring.  "It looks real."
            Angel glared at him.  "Am I on fire?"
            "Um, no.  Take a chill, Mr. Bitchy."
            "No, he's right."  Riley took in the landscape.  He should have seen it--he'd been the one staring out the window.  "Look--two trees, three trees, eight.  Two, three, eight.  The pattern just keeps repeating."
            "You're right."
            Angel had cupped a hand over his eyes.  "I'll take your word for it.  This is killing my eyes."
            "Hold up."  Xander opened the car's passenger door and fished in the glove box.  He came back with a pair of sunglasses.  "Here."
            Angel slid them on, blinked a few times, then examined the scenery, himself.  "You're right, Riley.  Good call."
            Riley found himself surprisingly pleased by Angel's praise.  It disconcerted him, so he decided not to think about it too much.  "So what do we do now?"
            Angel said nothing for a long moment, just staring off into the distance, studying the horizon.
            "Is this some kind of vampire thing?" Xander ventured after a time.
            Angel didn't respond.  Riley gestured Xander to silence, sensing the depth of Angel's concentration.  Finally, Angel lifted a hand to point.  "Can you see that?"
            Riley looked.  "What?"
            "There, where the pattern starts again.  It looks like--maybe a seam."
            Squinting, Riley said, "Is this something only a vampire can see?"
            "Maybe," Angel admitted.  "C'mon.  Let's go check it out."
#
            They walked for a long time.  The sun--or not-sun--seemed overly hot, and Riley couldn't help wondering how Angel was holding up.  He wasn't on fire, at least.  Riley had the feeling Angel wouldn't admit it even if he were uncomfortable.  Hell, he could probably go up in flames and not even whimper.
            "Does anybody have any idea where we're going?" Xander asked finally.
            "I think I'll know when I see it," said Angel.
            "You think?"
            Xander's harsh tone made Riley grit his teeth.  "Xander--" he started, but Angel cut through his protest.
            "When I see it, I'll tell you.  And if I don't see it, then we'll probably end up back in the real world, at which point you'll know right away because I'll burst into flames and disintegrate into a pile of dust."
            "And when do we do then?" Xander's edgy sarcasm hadn't waned.  This time Riley just waited for Angel's answer.
            "Then the cell phones start working again.  So you call somebody to come get you."  He stopped, took off the sunglasses.  He seemed hardly to be listening to himself as he added, "And if you could tell Buffy what happened.  Tell her I--"  He stopped, swallowed.  Then, "There."
            He pointed.  Riley looked, trying not to dwell too much on what he knew damn well Angel had been about to say.
            "I see it," he said.  "Or...him, I guess."
            "Yeah," said Angel.
            In the small fissure Angel had noticed, the place where one repetition of the landscape pattern met the next, stood a figure.  Too blue to be human, but not quite anything else, either.
            "Who the hell is he?" Xander said.
            Angel looked at him, tucking the sunglasses into his coat pocket.  "Let's go find out."
#
            As they approached the strange, blue-skinned, semi-demonic figure, Riley wished he'd come armed.  Something here was very, very wrong.
            Angel didn't seem worried, though.  With his shoulders set and his stride confident, he led the way.  When had he decided to be in charge?  When had they decided to let him?
            "Angel," Xander said suddenly, "you ever seen anything like this before?"
            "No."
            Riley waited, hoping Angel might elaborate, but he didn't.  Instead, he suddenly quickened his pace, closing the distance between himself and the demon.  Riley broke into a run, Xander right behind him, but neither of them was fast enough to catch up.  Before they could close in on him, Angel had fisted his hand in the demon's shirt and lifted him half off the ground.  Angel was in full-on vamp face, snarling with rage.
            "You wanna tell me what the hell this is about?" he growled into the demon's face, his row of ragged teeth, the wicked fangs, flashing in the false sunlight.  Riley slid to a stop a few feet away, Xander right behind him.
            "Well," said Xander.  "Looks like Angel's pissed."
            "Yeah."  Riley wavered, wondering if he should interfere.  He'd probably get his ass kicked if he did, though.  Angel was freakishly strong in human guise, but that was nothing compared to what he could do when he had his vamp on.  Riley decided it would be wisest to wait and see.
            The demon looked down into Angel's angry, contorted face and laughed.
            Well.  Riley hadn't expected that.  Apparently neither had Angel.  Perplexity combined with the bumpy forehead ridge and the fangs looked more than a little comical.  Slowly, he lowered the demon back to the ground.
            "Who are you?" Angel demanded.  "Who are you and why did you bring us here?"
            The demon, still chuckling, straightened his blue Nehru jacket, a few shades darker than his cerulean skin.  "My name is Regnath," he said.  "And I've brought you all here for a bit of a chat."
            Angel glared, the yellow vampire eyes bright and vicious under his glowering demon brow.  Then, abruptly, his face crunched back to human again.  Which did not, Riley noticed, greatly decrease the intensity of his glare.  Or, for that matter, the heaviness of his eyebrow ridge.
            "Start talking," said Angel tightly.
            The demon smiled, then looked toward Riley and Xander.  "Come along, then."
            Regnath led the way back into the forest a few feet to the mouth of a cave.  There he stopped, gesturing to the others to go ahead of him.
            "No way," said Riley, and Angel said at the same time, "You first."
            Regnath smiled, shrugged, and ducked past the entrance.  Angel followed, leaving Riley and Xander to trail after.
            The entrance was low enough they all had to duck, but it opened out quickly into a high, vaulted chamber.  Balls of luminescence hung near the ceiling, filling the place with a smoky gold light.
            "What does any of this have to do with Buffy?" Xander said suddenly.
            "Oh, really very little," said Regnath.  "I've just sidetracked you on your way to taking care of her."
            Angel growled again.  It was, Riley thought, a very scary noise.  "If anything happens to her--"
            Regnath waved it off.  "She'll be fine.  I'll let you all get along with your rescue as soon as I'm done with you."
            "If anything happens to her," Angel repeated, "I'll rip you to pieces."
            The demon regarded him placidly.  Riley took a step forward.  "Angel--"
            To his surprise, Angel faded back a step.  "What's going on?  I want an explanation."
            The demon smiled a little.  He didn't seem at all threatened by Angel, and Riley wondered just how strong the blue-skinned creature was.  "I sold that spell to the Trendolian demon the Slayer and her little boy-toy here killed.  If anyone else had triggered it, I would have left them to figure out the spell, the cure, all that, on their own.  But you three--"  He shook his head, incredulous.  "You three I just had to meet."
            "Why?" said Xander.  "What's so special about us?"
            "The Slayer's men?  That alone would be enough.  But you?  A vampire with a soul--the vampire with a soul, even--a paramilitary superhero who fights demons, and then there's you.  The mook.  The witless sidekick.  Or whatever the hell you are."
            Xander bristled.  Angel, his attention still focused on Regnath, said, "He's a warrior just like the rest of us."
            The hurt on Xander's face turned abruptly to shock, then he squared his shoulders.  Regnath looked at Angel, then back to Xander.
            "Interesting," the demon said.  "I didn't expect you to get all buddy-buddy."  He looked from one of them to the other, sizing them up.  "Let's see what we can do about that.  Which one of you loves her the most, do you think?"
            Riley stiffened, clenching his fists.  No one said anything for a moment, then Regnath said, "C'mon.  Just a guess.  Maybe I can help."
            He turned away and a swirling mist grew in the middle of the room.  An image grew in it and it took a moment for Riley to recognize Angel, dirty and ragged, peering around the blacked-out windows of a car at the golden glory that was Buffy.  She looked so young, Riley thought.  Young and fresh and pretty.  Serious jailbait, but the expression on Angel's face, in the vision, wasn't one of lust.  It was something else, as if he were looking at something profound.  Holy.
            "Would you say it was love at first sight, Angel?" Regnath said.  "She changed you, didn't she?  You'd still be stinking and greasy and lurking in the alleys eating rats if it weren't for her."
            "How do you know this?" Angel demanded, his voice tight.
            "Oh, I have access to every memory you possess."  Regnath's formerly affable tone had tightened, and his odd, white-blue eyes flashed a little.  He had the power here, and wasn't afraid to remind them of that.
            Every memory.  God.  Riley had a feeling this was going to be very, very bad for all of them.
            Regnath turned his attention back to Angel.  "She turned you into something approximating a human being, didn't she?  Made you into the champion you are today.  I don't think either of these other boys can even come close to a story like that, can they?"
            Angel said nothing, for which Riley was grateful.  Regnath looked at Xander.  "What about you?  Pretty much love at first sight for you, too, huh?  Except it wasn't really love.  Just some kind of tingly teenage hormonal lust, am I right?"
            And now they saw Xander's first sight of Buffy as she walked up the steps at Sunnydale High and he, distracted by her shining presence, smashed his skateboard into the railing.
            "Do you think she ever loved you?" Regnath taunted.  "In any way, shape, or form?"
            "She did," said Xander defensively.  "She does.  Just not the same way."
            "Not the same way she loved Angel.  Or Riley.  Or should that be, not the same way she loves Angel?"  The demon's gaze slid to Riley, waiting for him to show some kind of provocation, but he kept his cool.  Regnath looked at Angel.  "Do you think she still loves you?  Even after everything that happened between you?  Because it's all too obvious to everyone that you still love her."
            Riley heard Angel's molars grind together, but still the vampire said nothing.  He was eerily still standing there, his hands in his coat pockets, eyes flashing, not breathing because he didn't have to, no part of his body really moving at all.  Not even a pulse beating in his throat, just the cold, glittery glare of his dark eyes.
            Regnath smiled and turned again to Riley.  "What about you?  You didn't even like her at first, did you?"
            Another scene rose from the mist.  Riley this time, and he heard his own voice say, "She's a little peculiar."  Riley's mouth tightened as he tried to follow Angel's example and just be still, take it, let it happen.
            "Took you a while to realize what you had, didn't it?"  Just the sound of Regnath's voice was beginning to grate on Riley's nerves.  "And then you couldn't quite deal with it, could you?  When you found out the truth?  It's always just a little too much.  She's stronger, faster, more capable than you are at your own chosen profession.  Do you know how hard she had to work to keep from laughing in your face when you bragged to her about bagging seventeen demons?  Do you know how many she's killed?"
            "Hundreds," said Riley tonelessly.  
            "Makes you feel a little less than a man, doesn't it?"  Regnath's gaze slid sideways to Angel before he looked back again at Riley.  "And that whole thing where she slept with a vampire--kinda made you want to never touch her again when you found that out, didn't it?"
            Angel finally moved, turning to look at Riley.  His face was unreadable.
            "I didn't know him then," Riley said.
            "You know him now.  Hasn't changed a thing, has it?  Doesn't make you hate him any less.  Doesn't make him any less of a monster in your eyes.  Doesn't make it any easier to take that he was her first.  He popped her cherry.  Didn't you, Angel?"
            Angel turned back toward Regnath on a slow blink and just looked at him.  The rage on his face was so intense Riley half-expected him to go vamp again, but he didn't.  Riley couldn't help but admire his control.  Had he been able to sprout fangs and kill someone right about then, he probably would have done it.  But he didn't know if it would have been Regnath or Angel.  
            "And Riley, every time you're with her, you wonder."  Regnath was smiling broadly now, showing a double row of razor-sharp teeth, looking more like a demon than ever.  "You wonder what it was like when she was with him, if anything you do can measure up.  Because he's a vampire.  And everybody knows vampires are sensual, sexual creatures.  Did he maybe bite her while he was inside her?  And did she maybe like that?  And if he did, and she did, then there's nothing you could ever, ever do that would make it better for her to be with you than it was for her to be with him.  You ever look down into her face while you were inside her and wonder if she was pretending you were him?  Because she was.  At least once, she was."
            Riley couldn't take it anymore.  He took a step forward, ready to pummel the demon into a bloody pulp.  But Angel's hand shot out and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.  The strength in the vampire's fingers startled him; he could have snapped Riley's arm in half.
            "Buffy," Angel said.  "This piece of shit wants her dead, and if we kill him, or kill each other, that's exactly what he's going to get."
            Riley subsided, swallowing hard, and Angel let him go.  Riley resisted the urge to rub his arm.  He would have bruises there tomorrow, and when he saw them he would think about Angel, and about this conversation.  It was not the kind of memento he needed.
            Regnath laughed.  "Would you like to see?  Satisfy your curiosity?"  He looked toward Xander.  "I'm sure you've wondered, too, what exactly happened that night.  When Angel found his true happiness, just for a moment, a second, a heartbeat of eternal bliss--metaphorically, of course, since his heart doesn't actually beat, because he's a big dead walking corpse.  A big dead walking corpse who boffed your girlfriend, Riley, and boned the love of your life, Xander, and then killed a good number of your friends afterwards.  Would you like to see it?"
            No one said anything, though Riley knew that no matter what they said or didn't say, Regnath would show them whatever the hell he wanted them to see.  There wasn't much any of them could do about it.
            And he was right.  The mist swirled again, and they were all watching the movement of bodies on a narrow bed with red blankets, Angel's body half-covering Buffy's, his hand sliding down her skin, under the blankets.  He had a tattoo on his back, Riley noted absently, almost as if it mattered.  What the hell was it?  Some kind of bird?  A lion?  Both--a griffin with an "A" in its claws.  He found himself focusing on it, the clean black lines of it, because it kept him from thinking about where Angel's hand was going, what he was doing to Buffy under the fold of blanket.  It was bad enough Buffy's breast was showing, bobbing there where Xander could see it.  Riley didn't dare look at him, but he could hear Xander's breath speed up and couldn't help wondering if it was from anger or arousal.  Probably both, because wasn't that exactly what he was feeling right now?
            He dared a glance at Angel.  Angel had closed his eyes.  Coward.
            Buffy moaned, arched her back, as Angel shifted over her again, smiling softly as he watched her face.  She opened her eyes and looked at him and the love there made Riley physically ill.
            "Just feel it," Angel whispered to her, and bent closer, his lips against her forehead, her eyelids.  "Let me show you what you can feel."
            And they had to watch it all, as Buffy's eyes widened in wonder and her body lifted and convulsed under Angel and Angel smiled down into her face as he held her through her climax.  Then, when she had hit the peak, he moved again, and in spite of the blankets--and Riley couldn't express how grateful he was for the blankets--there was no way not to know that this was the moment, that right then, just as she slid down from her orgasm, was when he had taken her, penetrated her, because of the way he moved, and because she cried out, sharply this time, not in wonderment but in pain, and he shushed her softly, stroked her hair, cradled her against him, and Riley had the strange and disconcerting thought that, if he'd been celibate for nearly a century, there was no way he could have stopped then, no way he could have taken the time to hold and comfort her until she was ready to go on.
            But that was what Angel did.  He hushed her, kissed her face, whispered to her.  "I love you.  God, Buffy, I love you so much.  Just hold onto me.  Let me give this to you."  And finally she nodded, and he moved again, and gently rode her to another climax, and then one more, before he finally let himself go, and there was no way not to know that moment, either, because of the look of joyful completion on Angel's face and then, much to Riley's befuddlement, tears.
            A strange sound came from Riley's left, and he turned toward Angel.  Angel had opened his eyes and he was crying, here, in real life, he was standing there choking on tears, and he was a vampire, for God's sake, and he was crying.
            Riley didn't know what to do.  He looked at Xander, but Xander was just standing there staring at Angel with his teeth clenched and his face blank.
            "You had no right," Angel said, his voice thick and shaking.  "You had no fucking right."
            Regnath smiled blandly at him.  "No, I really didn't.  That was far too precious a moment to share, wasn't it?  Especially since it will never, ever happen again."  He looked at Riley, at Xander.  "Any comments?  Suggestions for improvement?  I thought his technique was quite good.  Probably not many girls can claim three orgasms on their first time, but that's a good average for you, isn't it, Angel?  Who taught you that?  You probably learned that from Darla, because she always made you wait your turn, because she made you and you were pretty much a big dildo for her, weren't you?"
            "Shut your fucking mouth."  Much to Riley's surprise, this came not from Angel, but from Xander.  "Haven't you done enough already?"
            Regnath laughed.  "Oh, Xander, my boy, I'm just getting started.  Let's see . . . what can you offer us?  You never even touched her, did you?  Maybe held her once, gave her a hug.  Oh, and there was that dance where she rubbed all over you, got you all bouncing on the edge of happy before she cut you off cold.  That was probably the closest you ever got, wasn't it?  Aside from the fantasies."
            And there was Buffy again, in the vision-mist.  Angel was with her again but this time he had her pinned against the wall, fangs flashing toward her throat.  Before he could sink his teeth into her, Xander appeared, slammed a stake into his back.  Angel dusted with a look of surprise, and Buffy fell into Xander's arms.  He picked her up, laid her down on a nearby bed.  Quick, frantic disrobing was followed by quick, frantic lovemaking, which apparently drove Buffy to ecstasy.  Oddly, her breasts seemed bigger here than they had in Angel's memory.  Angel's had been more accurate, Riley realized.
            "Xander," she gasped.  "You saved my life.  I love you."
            "There were a lot along those lines," Regnath narrated.  The scene shifted, playing out a similar storyline, big breasts and all.  "You wanted to be her white knight, her rescuer.  But you know what I don't understand?"  He looked at Xander, who didn't answer.  "You actually have rescued her, more than once, but that's just not enough for you, is it?"  The scene shifted to a hospital hallway, Xander confronting Angel.  Riley realized suddenly that this wasn't Angel at all, but Angelus, and his earlier question of how to tell the difference was answered.  Angelus had hard, cold eyes, a thin smirk, and honestly there was no mistaking anything about him for Angel, not even the dark, angry, glowering Angel Riley was familiar with.
            "Buffy's white knight," he mocked, but Xander held his ground.  "You still love her.  It must just eat you up that I got there first."
            "You're going to die," Xander bit out, "and I'm going to be there," and for the first time Riley felt a surge of true respect for Xander, the outsider, the sidekick who wasn't really a sidekick, because he had stood up to a true threat, and held it off.
            "Why is that not enough?" Regnath asked.  "Why does it have to be so dramatic for you?  She depends on you--why can't you be happy with that?  Or is it all about the sex?  All about who gets to sleep with her?"
            Again, Xander earned Riley's respect, because he said nothing.  Regnath grinned and turned to Riley.  "And that would be you, wouldn't it?  The one who gets to hold her whenever you like, strip her and touch her and take her--do everything these two would kill to be able to do.  Seeing what you saw, do you really believe Angel would have left her unless he'd had to?  Do you understand what kind of an incredible gift you've been given?  And yet you squander it, because you can't accept her exactly as she is.  You want her to be different."
            "I don't."  Riley had intended to remain silent, but the words came out of him, anyway.
            "But you do.  You wish she wasn't the superhero.  You want to be the strong one, and you just can't quite deal with the dynamic her Slayer-ness puts in your relationship.  Do you really think that ever bothered Angel?  She'd probably be a lot happier with him, if it weren't for that damned curse."
            He moved his hand to shift the mist, and it was Riley's turn to face his humiliation as the pictures showed him with Buffy, trying to keep up with her, first in the cemetery, staking vamps, then in bed.  He'd had no idea how many times she'd tried to take control in bed, only to have him roll her under him.  But there it was, all played out in living color.  Over and over, the same pattern.  God, how many times had he had sex with her?  How many times had he touched her, just like that, rolled his thumb around her nipple, or cupped and caressed the soft inside of her thigh?  Was it that he knew what she liked, or was it that he was afraid to venture outside the tried and true?  And when she arched under him, sometimes tossing her head back, sometimes meeting his eyes to show him her completion, why did it suddenly look so shallow?  Was it his lack of confidence showing, or had she been deeper in her pleasure, happier, more content, when she'd been with Angel?
            "I know what you're thinking," said Regnath.  "And yes, you're afraid.  Afraid to try anything new, because you don't want to fall on your face.  She'd wear you out if she took you as far as she can go.  She has the stamina of . . . well, of a Slayer, and you can't handle that."  He smirked at Xander.  "She'd kill you.  But you--"  He looked at Angel.  "Well, it's too bad things didn't go the way you'd hoped.  But maybe she'll find another nice vampire to warm her bed.  Except vampires aren't really that warm, are they?  Ah, well.  That Spike fellow has a bit of a thing for her, I've heard.  Maybe something will work out there."
            Angel shifted a little and Regnath laughed.  "That'd be a touch of irony, wouldn't it, considering he was one of yours back in the day, eh?"
            Still Angel didn't speak, leaving Riley to wonder what Regnath meant.
            "You know what I find particularly intriguing, though?" the demon went on.  "All three of you love her so much, and yet all three of you have betrayed her."
            "What?" Xander demanded.  "What the hell are you talking about?"
            "All three of you.  Who wants to go first this time?  How about you, Riley?"
            And this time he was in bed with Faith.  Doing the same thing to her that he'd done to Buffy, waylaying her attempt to play sex games with him, maneuvering her away from a good fuck and into a long, slow, sweet session of lovemaking.
            Angel turned, looking at him in disgust.  "My God, Riley.  You slept with Faith?"
            Riley clenched his jaw, but in the end couldn't hold back his protest.  "This isn't fair.  I didn't know it wasn't Buffy."
            "He's right," said Regnath.  "It's not fair.  Or is it?  Because you looked right into her eyes--"  The scene played out behind them, as Riley pulled Faith against him, kissed her soft and tender, entered her, rode her, looked right into her eyes as she came, and said, "I love you."
            Regnath tsked a few times.  "You should have known, Riley Finn.  How could you look right in her face at that moment and not know it wasn't Buffy?  I thought you loved her, Riley.  You told her you loved her but oh, my God, you told the wrong woman.  Isn't that a hoot and a half?"
            There was nothing Riley could say.  He'd flagellated himself enough already over the same question.  How could he not have known?  She'd been acting so strange, for one thing, and in retrospect the rhythm of their lovemaking had been different.  And the way she'd reacted, as if he'd flayed her open and shown her something she didn't want to see--
            "And Xander."  Regnath had moved on.  It was wrong, Riley knew, to be relieved about it, but he couldn't help it.  "Your betrayal seems so small, but maybe it wasn't."
            There was Buffy again, heading somewhere with determination.  When was this? Riley wondered.  In the image, Xander joined her.
            "Where's she going, Xander?"  Regnath said.  "You remember.  She's heading to the mansion to face Angelus.  Willow just told you to tell her she's working on the restoration spell.  To bring Angel back.  And what did you say?"
            "Willow says . . . kick his ass," said Xander's image, and the real Xander closed his eyes in pain.
            Riley looked at him, then at Angel.  Angel twitched an eyebrow, but only a little.
            "What would have happened, Xander, if you'd told her the truth?  Maybe Angel wouldn't have gone to hell, and maybe Buffy wouldn't have suffered over those months he was gone.  Maybe she wouldn't have run away that summer.  You've thought about that, I'm sure.  That was your fault.  All her pain, her fear, her loss--that was you.  How the hell do you live with that?"
            Xander clenched his teeth.  Regnath regarded him for a moment, then turned with a smirk to Angel.  "And you.  Let's forget for a moment everything you did as Angelus.  Dragging that up would be a little low even for me, since that really wasn't you.  Or so you tell yourself and everybody you need to have believe it.  But, as I said, we'll let that go.  Let's look at you.  At Angel.  The man who supposedly loved her more than his own life, and what did you do?"
            Riley sensed Angel's tension as the vision mist shifted again.  He had, Riley realized, quite possibly suffered more here than either he or Xander.  For the first time, Riley actually felt some level of sympathy for the vampire.
            Until he saw the new set of pictures.  Angel with his teeth deep in Buffy's throat, drinking her.  When the hell had this happened?  Abruptly he remembered the scar on Buffy's neck, but she'd never told him Angel had done it.  She'd admitted it was a vampire bite, and that it had been inflicted under peculiar circumstances, but he'd always just assumed she'd gotten careless one night on patrol.  But this was a far cry from what he'd imagined.
            In the pictures, Angel bore her down to the ground, and it might as well have been more sex as she clenched his hips with her thighs.  Riley had heard it was like sex, a pulsing, orgasmic kind of death.  But the sounds weren't sex sounds, they were drinking sounds, Angel's animal sucking and gulping as he drained Buffy's body, apparently oblivious to her fading beneath him, concentrating only on the feed.  Slayer blood, Riley thought.  It had to be something special for a vampire.  Gourmet special, once-in-a-lifetime special.
            The picture faded just as Buffy's eyes closed and Riley wheeled on Angel.  He couldn't stop the surge of rage, even knowing what he'd just seen hadn't killed her.  "You did that to her?  You son of a bitch."
            Angel regarded him stoically.  "Was your little vignette fair?" he said.  Reluctantly, Riley shook his head.  "Neither was that.  It didn't tell the whole story."
            Regnath chuckled.  "Well, I'm going to leave you three to work out your differences."
            "Wait!" Xander protested.  "What about Buffy?  We need her cure."
            The demon nodded.  "That's right.  I almost forgot about our little Slayer friend.  I'll be back in fifteen minutes.  I want to see how you three work this all out.  If you surpass my expectations, I'll give you the cure."
            "And what, precisely, are your expectations?" Riley demanded.
            "I expect to come back and find two exsanguinated bodies and an itty bitty pile of Angel dust, frankly."
            He snapped his fingers and disappeared.
            "So," Xander said.  "He thinks we're gonna kill each other."
            Angel looked at Riley.  "Think we can manage not to?"
            "Maybe.  You want to explain how a vampire who doesn't feed on human blood drank a woman he was supposed to be in love with nearly to death?"  He knew he had to keep his cool, to save Buffy, but it was hard after what he'd seen. After what he'd seen it was all he could to to keep from throwing himself at Angel and ripping  him apart with his bare hands.  Xander seemed calmer, but then Xander probably knew more than Riley.  When it came to the Angel/Buffy situation, everybody always knew more than Riley.
            "You think I wanted to?" Angel said.  "I begged her not to make me do that."
            It sounded like a pretty lame excuse to Riley.  "You couldn't just...not?"
            "I'm a fucking vampire."  Angel's voice was bitter.  "She's a Slayer.  You think she didn't know exactly how to play me?  I was about a minute and a half away from death and she forced me to drink her.  I would rather have died and I told her that.  She's stronger than you and she's stronger than me and by the time she was through working me over I didn't even know what I was doing until it was almost too late."
            Riley wasn't ready to let go of the fury. "You kind of looked like you were enjoying yourself."
            "Yeah, and you kind of looked like you were enjoying yourself with Faith, too."
            Riley bristled.  "I didn't know--"
            "How come you didn't say anything?" Xander broke in.  "In the hospital, when Giles threw you out.  How come you didn't tell us Buffy forced you?"
            "I told you she made me drink her.  I didn't think anyone was listening."
            "No.  I remember that.  But you didn't try very hard."
            "How do you think I felt?  I almost killed her.  By the time I managed to let her go it was damn near too late.  I could feel her pulse in my mouth and it was going dead.  I've drunk a lot of people to death, I know what it feels like, and she was so damn close it scared the hell out of me."  He rubbed the bridge of his nose, collecting himself.
            "She should have let you die," Xander said, but without malice.
            "Yeah, she should have," said Angel, looking up again, despair in his eyes.  "She was stupid to risk herself like that."
            "She did it out of love."  Riley's words surprised even himself.  "Can't fault her for that."
            "If she'd died . . ."  Angel hesitated.  "If she'd died, I wouldn't have been able to live with it."
            "You wouldn't have killed yourself," said Xander flatly.  "I would have killed you before you had the chance."
            Angel said nothing.
            "What about yours?" Riley said suddenly, looking at Xander.  "Was yours fair?"
            Xander shrugged.  "Pretty accurate from what I could tell."
            "So you lied to her," said Angel.  "Big deal.  You probably saved her life."
            Xander blinked in surprise.  "What?"
            "If you'd told her Willow was working that spell, she would have tried not to kill me, or tried to stop me from activating Acathla.  She would have been distracted, and I would have killed her."
            "So you're not pissed at me?"
            Angel actually managed a vague smile.  "Not about that."
            Silence fell.  After a few minutes, Xander said, "So, are we gonna kill each other, or not?  That's what he wants, you know.  That was the whole point."
            Riley shrugged.  "I vote not."  He just felt numb now, incapable of hating anyone, except maybe himself.
            "Yeah," said Xander.  "We all suck."
            "Some of us literally," said Angel.
            Xander shook his head.  "I told you.  Vampire jokes--not funny."
            Angel shrugged, and sat down on the ground to wait.
#
            Regnath returned, as promised, carrying a jar about twelve inches high.  It looked like a genie bottle.
            "Well, well," the demon said.  "Have you boys worked out your differences?"
            "We decided we all hate you," said Riley.  "It's amazing what wonders a common bond will work."
            Regnath nodded.  "I was afraid that might happen.  Ah, well."  He handed the bottle to Riley.  "She's in here.  Take the bottle back, then all three of you have to touch it at the same time and read a little spell ditty thingum."  He took a slip of paper from his pocket and handed that over, as well.  "Her essence will return to her and she'll wake up, good as new.  In the meantime, thanks to all of you for the entertainment.  That little show will keep me going for at least a couple of decades."
            "I hunt demons for a living," Angel said.  "I'll find you, and when I do you're not gonna be happy about it."
            "Oh, I'm tremendously frightened," said Regnath mockingly.  "You have far too much in store for you over the next year or so to worry about hunting down little old me, trust me.  As for the rest of you, well, good luck."  He snapped his fingers and disappeared.
            "I really, really don't like him," said Xander.
            "Yeah," Angel agreed.  "Now, how do we get back to the car?  I'm kind of thinking I don't want to burst into flames at the moment."
            It was a poser, Riley thought, but when they ducked back out of the cave, it was dark outside.  Retracing their steps, they found the car parked by the side of the road.  The clock inside read eight p.m.
            "Well, let's go," said Xander, climbing into the driver's side.  "And let's hope the clocks work right this time."
            This time the road signs changed as they were supposed to, and an hour later they pulled up in front of Buffy's house in Sunnydale.  Riley seemed to move through a fog, through water, through an utter daze, as they headed up to Buffy's room and performed the spell.  A soft, glowing mist rose from the bottle and settled over her, seeming to fall like rain, to be absorbed into her skin.  She took a deep breath, smiled, and opened her eyes.
            "Riley?" she said.
            Riley took a step toward the bed, then knelt next to it, taking Buffy's hand gently in his.  "Are you all right?"
            She frowned.  "I think so.  What happened?"
            "It's a long story."  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.  "I'll tell you all about it later."
            Buffy's gaze shifted, looking over Riley's shoulder.  "Xander?" she said.
            Riley turned to look, as well, assuming she would acknowledge Angel next.  But Angel was gone.  Riley frowned.  "Xander, watch her.  I'll be right back."
            "I wouldn't if I were you," Xander offered.
            "Wouldn't what?" asked Buffy.
            "Nothing," said Riley, giving Xander a meaningful look.  He got to his feet and went downstairs.
            Angel was downstairs on the phone, taking notes on a pad of paper.  "Yeah, that'll be fine.  Eleven fifty-seven, right?  Okay."  He hung up, ripped off the sheet of paper he'd been writing on and glanced at Riley.  "Give me a call in the morning, let me know how she is."
            "She might want to see you before you go."
            Angel shook his head.  "No, she won't.  It's better if I just leave."
            "Better for her or better for you?"
            Angel's eyes flicked up, glittering anger.  "Better for everybody."  He headed for the door.  "Better you don't even tell her I was here."
            "Angel--" Riley started, but he had no idea what he'd been about to say.  Lamely, he settled on, "How are you getting home?"
            Angel waved the piece of paper in his hand.  "I'm taking the bus.  Plenty of time to get home by morning."  The anger had faded from his face.  "Take care of her, Finn," he said.  "And for God's sake, let her be on top once in a while."  He opened the door, hesitated, then delivered one last blow.  "I would have."  He closed the door behind him.
            Riley stared at the door, his fists clenching.  Then he turned and went back upstairs to Buffy.
            Xander backed out as Riley came in, leaving him alone with Buffy.  He sat on the bed this time, and she smiled tiredly up at him.
            "Angel left, didn't he?" she said.
            "Xander--"
            Buffy shook her head.  "Xander didn't tell me.  I just knew."
            "How?"
            "I don't know.  I just did.  Smell or something--I don't know."  She closed her eyes.  "Hold me, Riley.  I'm so tired."
            He stretched out next to her on the bed and put his arms around her, kissed her hair.  But he knew he couldn't hold her.  In some indefinable, inexpressibly painful way, he knew he never could.
            "I love you," he whispered, but she had fallen asleep.

END.