"Can't this thing go any faster?" Buffy's patience was just about gone. Once again, her friends were in danger because of who she was. If Xander hadn't pushed her out of the way, he wouldn't have been split in two. That blast had been meant for her. Instead, he was two halves of a whole. The Xander she'd spoken to was dangerous and capable. And Willow had said her Xander had been panicking and worried. Neither set of characteristics added up to good things. If something happened to Xander because of all this, she would never forgive herself. She couldn't allow herself the luxury of going down that road, so she turned to the time honored tradition of mocking Giles' car, "Ultimate driving machine my ass."

"We're pushing 70." Riley understood her freak out; he was worried about what Xander would do to himself, too. On some level he and Xander understood each other more than the others. Everyone else in the group had some kind of tie to the mystic realms, except for the two of them. Xander knew how Riley felt, his desire to prove he was just as valuable to the group, even without a supernatural boost. Xander also understood what it felt like to be so close to Buffy you could touch her, but at the same time be a million light years away from her. He'd been living that way since high school.

Buffy tried to relax. Riley was driving as fast as he could. It wasn't his fault Xander was in trouble, it was hers. Years ago, she'd fought so hard to keep her friends close, she'd basically ignored every rule in the Slayer Handbook, simply because she wanted to have a normal life. And it had done nothing but put her friends in danger, and get them killed. How many times had Willow or Xander ended up in the ER because of a fight gone wrong? And it wasn't just them; all of her friends could claim at least one overnight stay in the hospital or some kind of battle scar: Cordelia, Oz, Anya, even Tara. Though she hated to think how she would have survived the last four years without them, she knew they'd all be better off without the Slayer in their lives.

"Riley, do you wish…" She didn't necessarily want the answer, but she couldn't stop the words.

"No," he knew what she was thinking. It wasn't hard to figure it out. The guilt was written all over her face and he had heard the tone in her voice in Giles' apartment. She wanted to know if he wished she were different, if he wished he could have just Buffy.

"No?" She was slightly shocked by his firm tone, not even knowing what the question had been. It was stupid and selfish to ask in the first place. The answer didn't make a difference. Clearly Toth's tool would do the job, but that would make her Buffy half way too vulnerable. And it's not like she could hang up her hat and allow her replacement to take over, because Faith was currently serving time in the big house, where there were surprisingly few vamps. And even if he said yes, and it were possible, it wouldn't matter, because she already knew that she could never go back to being helpless. The week surrounding her 18th birthday had proven that to her. At 15, she may have relinquished her slayer-hood if it had been an option, but at 19, she couldn't. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

Riley threw a glance her way. He could hear the cover-up in her voice, her attempt to play coy, but he wasn't going to let her get away with it. Maybe if she saw how much he loved her, she'd be able to let him in just a little. "Yes, I do. You wanted to know if I wished you got hit by that thing, got split in two." He tried to keep his eyes on her, but it was difficult, what with the driving and all.

She conceded. They were going to have this conversation. She'd been less than available for Riley and he had been super understanding. Any normal girl would be head over heels in love with the perfect man at her side. She knew he deserved someone much better than herself. "Well, you have been kind of wrinkly about the Slayer gig." It was a gross exaggeration. Riley was both extremely accepting and supportive of what she was. There weren't many guys who could accept that their girlfriend could kick their ass without breaking a sweat, or a nail. "Instead of having Slayer Buffy, you could have Buffy Buffy," and maybe she could treat you how you deserve, she added to herself.

He waited for her to make eye contact again, "I have Buffy Buffy. Being the Slayer is part of who you are. You keep thinking I don't get that, but…" He trailed off, unsure how to finish. He did get that being the Slayer was part of who she was. And it didn't bother him, most of the time. But he was who he was, and sometimes he wished he could be her white knight. Of course, there was nothing he was strong enough to fight that she couldn't kill herself. And sometimes he wished she'd let him inside the walls around her heart; show him that she could be weak. But she was too determined to be better, stronger, faster, that she refused to let her guard down.

"It's just that, I know how unfun it can be." She'd been dealing with her calling for a long time. She was quite familiar with the setbacks, the conditions that came with her duty. "The bad hours, frequent bruising, cranky monsters…" not to mention the life or death situations, the constant demands on her time, the tendency for her 'job' to get in the way of things normal girls have, like dates.

"Buffy," he cut her off, "If you led a perfectly normal life, you wouldn't be half as crazy as you are. I gotta have that. I gotta have it all. I'm talking toes, elbows, the whole bad ice skating movie obsession, everything." He paused for a moment to allow his words to sink in. "There's no part of you I'm not in love with."

His declaration brought her eyes back to his face. But his words sent her brain in another direction. The trip down memory lane was completely unbidden and almost totally unwanted. It was too painful to allow herself to be pulled into the past, but she couldn't stop it.

His words, though different, reminded her of another night. A night in which she had very much regretted what she was, because it kept her from having a life and hanging out with her friends. She'd been patrolling, stressing about her problem of the week. She cringed inwardly as she remembered that particular night and that particular pain. The aspect of the demon had terrified her at first, though her anticipation hadn't been nearly as bad as the pain that accompanied mind reading.

Angel had found her on a sidewalk, a few blocks from her house. She'd been mad at him, unfairly, for what had happened with Faith. But he had known and he had been understanding, not rising to the bait she offered, not voicing his own frustrations at what she had made him do, and then punished him for doing to well. Instead, he had comforted her, listened to her fears. He had tried to be reassuring and he had managed to make her smile. 'Hey, I'll love you, even if you're covered in slime.' His words had soothed her then, to know there was someone who would love her, who would stand with her, no matter what.

The thought of Angel took her eyes to the window. She knew it was a betrayal of Riley's love to be thinking of her ex, but she also knew it was a betrayal of her own heart to lead Riley on in the first place. She did not, could not, love Riley the way she did Angel. A girl can only have one soul mate, and that spot belonged to the vampire, and it always would. No matter how much either of them wanted, Riley would never have the place in Buffy's heart that Angel had .

Just as she knew Riley would be unable to accept her if she were covered in slime, or subject to some other demonic trait. Oh, he'd play it off, pretend he was fine with it. But he would come to hate her for it. Because despite how far he'd come, Riley was still very much color blind when it came to her world- White and black, demon and human, no gray areas. It wasn't his fault, he was programmed that way. And maybe once upon a time, she had been too. Kendra's words echoed in her head for a moment, He's a vampire, he should die. But her eyes had been opened to the rainbow the night she'd seen Angel's other face, not his true face, just his other face,

She'd asked Giles if a vampire could ever be a good person, but his answer hadn't mattered. She'd already figured out her own. It was possible that if Angel had never come to Sunnydale, had never decided to help her, she would still think like Kendra had, like Riley did. Or it's possible she would have up until she died, because let's face it; she had survived this long due to Angel's efforts to help her.

But he had come, and she had changed. And she had given him her heart. And despite his words, and the distance, he still had it. Just as she knew she still had his. He would love her no matter what and she would always be his girl. Nothing would change that, even if she wanted it to, which she didn't. As great as Riley was, and as much as she truly did love him, she wouldn't trade Angel for anything. She wasn't a normal girl, as Riley had pointed out, and loving Angel was part of who she was, is, and always would be.

She blinked back the tears she could feel forming. They always did when she thought of Angel. Hoping to keep Riley from noticing her pain and her silence, she returned her focus to the problem at hand. "We better get there soon. If Xander kills himself, he's dead. You know what I mean."