"Hey, Xander," Riley said, coming into the shop, "what's going on?"
"We're trying to find out about Buffy's past lives," Xander said matter-of-factly, looking up from his careful arrangement of chocolatey goodness on the table in front of him. "This demon thing has her wigged ... the hypnosis wasn't too helpful ... the witches offered their magickal assistance."
Riley gazed blankly at Xander's thorough collection, "Is she around?"
"I think she went out for some air," Xander said, then noticed Riley's stare, "hey, you want?"
"No," he said, "I think I'll just go find Buffy."
Without waiting for Xander's response he walked out of the shop, searching aimlessly for Buffy; knowing he would never find her if she wished to stay hidden, but hoping she would call out to him. Reach out to him the way he was beginning to realise she never would.
Which was why it surprised him to see her blonde head sitting motionless on the sidewalk a little way down the street, resting her head on her drawn-up knees. He jogged up to her, sitting down next to her, not touching.
"Hi," he said tentatively.
"Hi, Riley," she said with a gentle smile, then they lapsed into uncomfortable silence.
"What's the demon thing and why are you getting hypnotised?" he blurted out, wondering absently exactly when his mouth had lost its connection to his brain.
He didn't notice when she stiffened, and he didn't pick up on the strain in her voice when she answered.
"It's a Slayer thing," she said, "don't worry about it." She forced a light laugh. Remember the Cs - cool, calm, collected.
Caught out.
"It's enough of a Slayer thing for Tara and Willow to be doing spells," he said reasonably, recognising that she was shutting him out and powerless as to how to stop her.
"That demon you... fought... the other day? It's an assassin that's already killed a version of me trying to kill me again, but I want to stop it," she said, praying the tiny amount of vague information would keep him happy, but knowing it wouldn't; that she wouldn't be happy if he tried to fob her off with that. But she was the Slayer; it was her job. His ex-job.
"What?!" he said loudly. He heard 'kill' first, and instinctively tried to drape a protective arm around her shoulders, then tried not to feel hurt when she evaded his embrace.
"I can deal with it," she said sharply.
"We can deal with it," he corrected.
"No, Riley," she said, standing up and turning on him. For once, he looked up at her, and a cynical little part of him taunted him with the knowledge that that felt more normal.
"I don't want you getting hurt," she said.
"Let me help you," he insisted.
"Just be there," she said quickly. "That's all I need."
Now he stood up too, and enfolded her into his arms for a strong hug.
"I love you," he murmured into her hair, hoping she would reply in kind - but knowing she was unlikely to start now.
"PDA alert!" came Willow's good-natured voice from behind them. "Come on, we're all ready."
Riley tried very hard not to notice the relief on Buffy's face as she pulled away to greet Willow and Tara.
* * * * *
"We use these photos to connect us to you so we can find your line," Willow explained as she and Tara diligently set up the spell.
"I look awful in this picture," Xander said, leaning over to pick it up until a warning slap on his hand from Tara stopped him, "why are there pictures of me anyway?"
"There's pictures of all of us," Willow said reprovingly, "it's so we can identify any other lines caught up in Buffy's."
"Sounds complicated," Riley said, unobtrusively scanning the collection of pictures for one of him. He was relieved to see it, a snapshot of he and Buffy relaxing together on the beach from during the summer.
"Oh, you won't understand any of it," Willow said airily, concentrating on the figures she was chalking on to the bare floor. Riley bristled, about to comment.
Tara forstalled him, explaining, "She means what happens to the pictures. We'll do the spell and then we'll translate what happens for you."
Willow got up and looked at Buffy, "Have you got any pictures of Angel?"
"What? Why?" Riley said instantly.
"Because we already know he's been in at least one life," Willow said, surprised at his aggressive tone.
"How do we know that?" Riley exclaimed.
"From her dreams... and the hypnosis," Willow said, belatedly realising she might have said something wrong.
He swung to face Buffy, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I thought you'd react like this," Buffy snapped, reacting to his aggressive behaviour with Slayer-Buffy, instead of the Buffy-Buffy Riley usually saw. She firmly told herself she was being irrational and forcibly calmed her voice to go on, "It's past, Riley. It doesn't mean anything."
"That we know of yet," Tara said in a quiet aside to Willow.
"Then why bother with this, Buffy?" he said, stepping closer.
"Because I want to know," she said, fighting down anger as he continued to invade her space, wondering what was wrong with her; she'd had him far closer than that.
"You want to know about the past," he said resentfully. "What's wrong with the now?"
"Nothing's wrong with the now," she said. "We just discussed this, Riley. I'm trying to make sure I get as much now as possible, remember?"
"But you didn't mention he's involved in it," he said persistently.
"Um, photo?" Willow intervened gingerly, noticing the slight change in Buffy's stance and the 'I'm not taking anymore of this crap' glint in her eye.
Buffy wavered for a moment, then slowly walked over to her bag. Feeling all their eyes on her, Riley's burning into her back, she rifled through the backpack slowly, finding her wallet and pulling out the photo Cordelia had sent over six months ago, on an apparent whim she had never explained to Buffy.
Buffy stared at the precious photo for a moment, forgetting that they were waiting for her. Angel looked so much like she remembered; dressed all in black, he looked distinctly uncomfortable to be photographed, looking past the camera at the photographer, seemingly holding a conversation - his lips were curved in the characteristic smirk that passed for a smile in Angel's admittedly quite limited range of expressions. It wasn't that he didn't feel the emotions, as she well knew - so well - but that he hid them from the world. From everyone.
Except her, once upon a time.
She took a deep breath and turned, not meeting Riley's or Xander's eyes with the question she knew would be there ('why do you carry around a photo of him?'), but giving the picture straight to Willow in exchange for a sympathetic smile.
"Yeah, past," Riley said snidely.
"Not. Here," she gritted out, not looking at him, her patience gone.
"Then where?" Riley said angrily. "Tonight, which you won't spend with me again, or tomorrow when you'll be dealing with this demon you won't tell me about, or the day after when ..."
"So, are we casting this spell?" Xander said loudly, stepping forward.
Buffy's eyes met Willow's.
"Cast it," she said definitely, effectively dismissing Riley.
Tara shooed them away from the careful circle she and Willow had created, then took up her position opposite the other witch. Both took deep, cleansing breaths, their heads bowed, preparing to raise their power.
Instinctively, Buffy drew back, gesturing Xander and Riley to follow. Xander did so immediately, taking a place just at her back; Riley stood resolutely at her side.
Tara raised her head and began in a voice imbued with power.
"Fates, goddesses of fortune. Hear us."
Willow threw a bundle of herbs into the centre of the circle, where they smoked.
"You who determine destiny. Be with us."
Buffy stared at her, unprepared for the sudden unfamiliarity of her best friend.
"Weavers of fate, come to us," Tara and Willow intoned together, focusing on the centre of the circle as they began a slow, synchronised step around its circumference.
"Clotho, spinner of the thread of life; show us this fateline," Willow said. She threw another item into the circle. Craning her neck, Buffy could see it was the picture of herself.
"Lachesis, she who measures the thread; describe us this fateline," Tara said, adding the other photos to the smouldering picture of Buffy.
"Atropos, cutter of the thread; grant us this fateline," Willow said. She flicked her wrist, and a fine shower of powder settled onto the pictures.
As the photos disappeared in a sudden haze of blue smoke, Buffy tensed, prepared to get her friends out of danger. She relaxed when she realised that the smog was confined to the circle.
Tara and Willow stopped simultaneously and walked straight into the centre of the circle.
"The unchangeable, the inexorable, the absolute," Buffy heard them chant from where they were hidden by the billow of pale blue smoke.
"Reveal to us this fateline; show us this past; reveal to us this fateline; show us this past."
There was a blast of pure white light, radiating out from inside the circle.
Buffy dived to the floor, tackling Xander down and pulling Riley with her. Turning to face the circle, she shaded her eyes and seemed to see a thousand silver lines wending their way through, to and around the circle; then the image was gone, and Tara and Willow became visible through the fast-clearing smoke.
"So mote it be," Willow cried, echoed seconds later by Tara.
They moved towards each other and hugged tightly for a few seconds, as the light crackled around them and faded; then they turned, and Buffy felt a wash of relief as Willow gave her old, sweet smile and came out of the circle to help them up.
Buffy peered past her into the circle; the photos were scattered around the circle, apparently randomly.
"So do we know stuff?" she heard Xander say behind her, his voice seeming loud and coarse in the unnatural quiet of the room.
"We can interpret, if that's what you mean," Willow said.
Buffy halted at the edge of the circle, wondering whether she could enter. Tara reached for her, touched her arm gently, and Buffy felt an unexpected zing as the residues of their magick flowed into her. She shared a smile with Tara, then the witch went to join Willow to discuss their impressions, and Buffy entered the circle alone.
She slowly leaned over, picking up her picture.
One edge was completely fused with that of the shot of Angel.
* * * * *
"We're trying to find out about Buffy's past lives," Xander said matter-of-factly, looking up from his careful arrangement of chocolatey goodness on the table in front of him. "This demon thing has her wigged ... the hypnosis wasn't too helpful ... the witches offered their magickal assistance."
Riley gazed blankly at Xander's thorough collection, "Is she around?"
"I think she went out for some air," Xander said, then noticed Riley's stare, "hey, you want?"
"No," he said, "I think I'll just go find Buffy."
Without waiting for Xander's response he walked out of the shop, searching aimlessly for Buffy; knowing he would never find her if she wished to stay hidden, but hoping she would call out to him. Reach out to him the way he was beginning to realise she never would.
Which was why it surprised him to see her blonde head sitting motionless on the sidewalk a little way down the street, resting her head on her drawn-up knees. He jogged up to her, sitting down next to her, not touching.
"Hi," he said tentatively.
"Hi, Riley," she said with a gentle smile, then they lapsed into uncomfortable silence.
"What's the demon thing and why are you getting hypnotised?" he blurted out, wondering absently exactly when his mouth had lost its connection to his brain.
He didn't notice when she stiffened, and he didn't pick up on the strain in her voice when she answered.
"It's a Slayer thing," she said, "don't worry about it." She forced a light laugh. Remember the Cs - cool, calm, collected.
Caught out.
"It's enough of a Slayer thing for Tara and Willow to be doing spells," he said reasonably, recognising that she was shutting him out and powerless as to how to stop her.
"That demon you... fought... the other day? It's an assassin that's already killed a version of me trying to kill me again, but I want to stop it," she said, praying the tiny amount of vague information would keep him happy, but knowing it wouldn't; that she wouldn't be happy if he tried to fob her off with that. But she was the Slayer; it was her job. His ex-job.
"What?!" he said loudly. He heard 'kill' first, and instinctively tried to drape a protective arm around her shoulders, then tried not to feel hurt when she evaded his embrace.
"I can deal with it," she said sharply.
"We can deal with it," he corrected.
"No, Riley," she said, standing up and turning on him. For once, he looked up at her, and a cynical little part of him taunted him with the knowledge that that felt more normal.
"I don't want you getting hurt," she said.
"Let me help you," he insisted.
"Just be there," she said quickly. "That's all I need."
Now he stood up too, and enfolded her into his arms for a strong hug.
"I love you," he murmured into her hair, hoping she would reply in kind - but knowing she was unlikely to start now.
"PDA alert!" came Willow's good-natured voice from behind them. "Come on, we're all ready."
Riley tried very hard not to notice the relief on Buffy's face as she pulled away to greet Willow and Tara.
* * * * *
"We use these photos to connect us to you so we can find your line," Willow explained as she and Tara diligently set up the spell.
"I look awful in this picture," Xander said, leaning over to pick it up until a warning slap on his hand from Tara stopped him, "why are there pictures of me anyway?"
"There's pictures of all of us," Willow said reprovingly, "it's so we can identify any other lines caught up in Buffy's."
"Sounds complicated," Riley said, unobtrusively scanning the collection of pictures for one of him. He was relieved to see it, a snapshot of he and Buffy relaxing together on the beach from during the summer.
"Oh, you won't understand any of it," Willow said airily, concentrating on the figures she was chalking on to the bare floor. Riley bristled, about to comment.
Tara forstalled him, explaining, "She means what happens to the pictures. We'll do the spell and then we'll translate what happens for you."
Willow got up and looked at Buffy, "Have you got any pictures of Angel?"
"What? Why?" Riley said instantly.
"Because we already know he's been in at least one life," Willow said, surprised at his aggressive tone.
"How do we know that?" Riley exclaimed.
"From her dreams... and the hypnosis," Willow said, belatedly realising she might have said something wrong.
He swung to face Buffy, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I thought you'd react like this," Buffy snapped, reacting to his aggressive behaviour with Slayer-Buffy, instead of the Buffy-Buffy Riley usually saw. She firmly told herself she was being irrational and forcibly calmed her voice to go on, "It's past, Riley. It doesn't mean anything."
"That we know of yet," Tara said in a quiet aside to Willow.
"Then why bother with this, Buffy?" he said, stepping closer.
"Because I want to know," she said, fighting down anger as he continued to invade her space, wondering what was wrong with her; she'd had him far closer than that.
"You want to know about the past," he said resentfully. "What's wrong with the now?"
"Nothing's wrong with the now," she said. "We just discussed this, Riley. I'm trying to make sure I get as much now as possible, remember?"
"But you didn't mention he's involved in it," he said persistently.
"Um, photo?" Willow intervened gingerly, noticing the slight change in Buffy's stance and the 'I'm not taking anymore of this crap' glint in her eye.
Buffy wavered for a moment, then slowly walked over to her bag. Feeling all their eyes on her, Riley's burning into her back, she rifled through the backpack slowly, finding her wallet and pulling out the photo Cordelia had sent over six months ago, on an apparent whim she had never explained to Buffy.
Buffy stared at the precious photo for a moment, forgetting that they were waiting for her. Angel looked so much like she remembered; dressed all in black, he looked distinctly uncomfortable to be photographed, looking past the camera at the photographer, seemingly holding a conversation - his lips were curved in the characteristic smirk that passed for a smile in Angel's admittedly quite limited range of expressions. It wasn't that he didn't feel the emotions, as she well knew - so well - but that he hid them from the world. From everyone.
Except her, once upon a time.
She took a deep breath and turned, not meeting Riley's or Xander's eyes with the question she knew would be there ('why do you carry around a photo of him?'), but giving the picture straight to Willow in exchange for a sympathetic smile.
"Yeah, past," Riley said snidely.
"Not. Here," she gritted out, not looking at him, her patience gone.
"Then where?" Riley said angrily. "Tonight, which you won't spend with me again, or tomorrow when you'll be dealing with this demon you won't tell me about, or the day after when ..."
"So, are we casting this spell?" Xander said loudly, stepping forward.
Buffy's eyes met Willow's.
"Cast it," she said definitely, effectively dismissing Riley.
Tara shooed them away from the careful circle she and Willow had created, then took up her position opposite the other witch. Both took deep, cleansing breaths, their heads bowed, preparing to raise their power.
Instinctively, Buffy drew back, gesturing Xander and Riley to follow. Xander did so immediately, taking a place just at her back; Riley stood resolutely at her side.
Tara raised her head and began in a voice imbued with power.
"Fates, goddesses of fortune. Hear us."
Willow threw a bundle of herbs into the centre of the circle, where they smoked.
"You who determine destiny. Be with us."
Buffy stared at her, unprepared for the sudden unfamiliarity of her best friend.
"Weavers of fate, come to us," Tara and Willow intoned together, focusing on the centre of the circle as they began a slow, synchronised step around its circumference.
"Clotho, spinner of the thread of life; show us this fateline," Willow said. She threw another item into the circle. Craning her neck, Buffy could see it was the picture of herself.
"Lachesis, she who measures the thread; describe us this fateline," Tara said, adding the other photos to the smouldering picture of Buffy.
"Atropos, cutter of the thread; grant us this fateline," Willow said. She flicked her wrist, and a fine shower of powder settled onto the pictures.
As the photos disappeared in a sudden haze of blue smoke, Buffy tensed, prepared to get her friends out of danger. She relaxed when she realised that the smog was confined to the circle.
Tara and Willow stopped simultaneously and walked straight into the centre of the circle.
"The unchangeable, the inexorable, the absolute," Buffy heard them chant from where they were hidden by the billow of pale blue smoke.
"Reveal to us this fateline; show us this past; reveal to us this fateline; show us this past."
There was a blast of pure white light, radiating out from inside the circle.
Buffy dived to the floor, tackling Xander down and pulling Riley with her. Turning to face the circle, she shaded her eyes and seemed to see a thousand silver lines wending their way through, to and around the circle; then the image was gone, and Tara and Willow became visible through the fast-clearing smoke.
"So mote it be," Willow cried, echoed seconds later by Tara.
They moved towards each other and hugged tightly for a few seconds, as the light crackled around them and faded; then they turned, and Buffy felt a wash of relief as Willow gave her old, sweet smile and came out of the circle to help them up.
Buffy peered past her into the circle; the photos were scattered around the circle, apparently randomly.
"So do we know stuff?" she heard Xander say behind her, his voice seeming loud and coarse in the unnatural quiet of the room.
"We can interpret, if that's what you mean," Willow said.
Buffy halted at the edge of the circle, wondering whether she could enter. Tara reached for her, touched her arm gently, and Buffy felt an unexpected zing as the residues of their magick flowed into her. She shared a smile with Tara, then the witch went to join Willow to discuss their impressions, and Buffy entered the circle alone.
She slowly leaned over, picking up her picture.
One edge was completely fused with that of the shot of Angel.
* * * * *