Title: Flinch 1/1

Author: Starla (throwmywalrus@b...) or (fuzzylittlepackrat@h...)

Disclaimer: Joss owns all.

Summary: Buffy meets Riley's parents. It doesn't go too well. Not heavy on

plot.

AN: I'm well aware that the title makes no sense. Buffy starts in 2 minutes.

Feedback: Yes please!

***

How did I get to be sitting here?

On my left, Riley leans against the back of my cosy, comfy couch, alternating

between smiling adoringly at me and grinning at the people who sit around the

room.

The people who showed up, unexpected.

Uninvited.

I try not to bristle at the intrusion; this is Riley's family, therefore, by

default, they should be my family... I mean, he...and I .... well, we're...

Not gonna go down that road, where hard thoughts lie, waiting to beat me over

the head with doubt and insecurity and a wistful longing for the past.

Riley's mother is talking to me. I should probably listen, huh? I mean, this

woman holds more influence over Riley than anyone. I should care what she has

to say. I should care what she thinks of me...and I do. I really, really, do.

I'm just not sure why.

Is it because she's important to Riley...or because that's what a normal girl

would want? That is what a normal girl would want, right? Sometimes I forget...

I'll have to ask Willow. Not that she's exactly normal, but she seems way more

up on these things than me.

"So, dear - Buffy - my Riley talks about you all the time."

A ball of nervousness tightens in my gut, and the smile on my face feels

clownish...but not one of those cute 'I've been swimming through a rainbow

stream, care to join me?' clowns, more like Pennywise, from It, or Bozo.

Yeah, Bozo freaks me out.

"I - " I pause, unsure how to continue. It's not as if I've ever really done

this before. I'd known Tyler's parents since I was a kid, and Pike was pretty

much a runaway, and Angel -

Well, it seemed like a lot of trouble to raise them from the dead just so I

could say 'Hi, I fucked the soul out of your son. Care for some tea?'.

I don't mean to sound that way about Angel and I, I really don't. I mean, he's

a part of me, and as much as it hurt, there were some really, truly, beautiful

moments...but in the months...god, more than a year now...since he's been gone,

cold bitterness has been crawling it's way up my body, choking me and changing

me and making me wish for things that could never be... making me wish it could

all just stop.

God, I can't afford to go off on an Angel tangent now. If I do it again, let me

know, k?

Oh, right. You'll stop me. Suuuure. You know you love this.

Damn sadists.

I smile warmly at Riley's mother. "Well, according to my friends, the amount I

talk about him is kinda scary, so I guess we're even."

I feel Riley chuckle against my side, and feel sick because it's not true.

After the initial 'oooh, look, shiny, new!' glow faded from our relationship, I

stopped talking about him so much. I mean, I do, I just...

I used to spend hours with Willow discussing every touch, every word, every

*look* that passed between Angel and I, and I just don't feel the compulsion to

do that with Riley. Not that we don't have great conversations. We do. Really.

Just the other day, he told me about the goldfish he had when he was a kid, so

there.

Riley's mother is not at all what I expected. She seems younger than she

is...funkier, somehow. In a good way, not an

oh-my-god-that-girl-is-turning-into-a-pigeon way. She just seems...fresh.

Happy, and hip. For an older woman, anyway. Bit like my mum would be, if it

weren't for the divorce thing and the slayer thing and that black and gold vest

she insists on wearing even thought that look is *so* over...

She has Riley's eyes, or he has hers - //chicken or the egg?// - and she's

tall, with reddish hair which I suspect to be dyed. It's that purplish-maroon

shade that *never* happens in real life, but it doesn't matter. It's cut

elegantly. She looks nice.

Riley's father is *exactly* what I expected - // Old MacDonald had a farm, eee

aye eee aye oh...// - which is not entirely a good thing. He scares me a

little... he seems very traditional, and I'm...well, I'm not. At all. Not even

a teensy bit.

Never the less, he has a kind smile, and the skin around his eyes crinkles when

he grins. And when we were making tea and coffee together, earlier, I caught

him singing 'Doo Wah Diddy' under his breath, so I've softened to him.

Mrs. Finn laughs, "Well, we always love to welcome obsessive young women into

the family."

"Riley bring home lots of freaky chicks?" I ask good naturedly.

"Riley? No. But Ryan tends to have a rather ... exotic... taste in

girlfriends."

I glance at Ryan, Riley's brother, who is blushing furiously. I smile at him

understandingly, and then grin at Riley, "We should introduce him to Anya."

"I'm sure Xander would be *so* pleased," Riley says with a roll of his eyes.

I giggle, "We'll distract him with a twinkie."

Not that I'd really do that...as weird as it is, Anya and Xander fit in that

way that makes me smile and laugh and feel all light headed for them. Vicarious

belonging, or something, I suppose.

Riley and I don't fit like that, not really. I mean, we do, but we're

not...seamless.

Angel and I were seamless. We had a couple tears, rips in odd places, but they

were mutual rips. One entity sorta deal.

God, I gotta stop thinking about Angel.

I mean it, damnit! I can't keep doing this to myself, or to Riley. Angel is

gone. Riley is here. I sleep with Riley every night, while Angel lies alone in

bed all day...

Or, at least, I hope he's alone.

Oh, god, what if he's not alone?

Images of some phantom woman wrapped around him slip into my mind, and I can

hear their voices even through my internal screaming...

//Touch me, Angel...//

//Always...//

//Love you, babe.//

//I love you. Forever.//

Flashes of rage and hate and jealousy simmer in my gut, and I can feel my jaw

clenching, and my nails digging into my palms. If I'm not careful, I'll draw

blood.

How dare she! How dare *he*? He said he loved me, and then he just goes off and

sleeps with some whore...who I made up...

Oh, shut up. I am *not* still in love with him. Not even. It's just... residual

possessiveness. Yep.

Whatever.

I grin at Ryan. "Oh, well, I suppose Anya's off the menu, but I'm sure we'll be

able to find you a good old-fashioned Sunnydale super freak. There's lots of

them here. I'm pretty sure it's the weather. Makes people all crazy."

Weather, hellmouth, same thing.

Ryan laughs nervously, "Ah, don't worry about it. I've got a - there's sort of

a -..."

"You've got a honey back home?" I say, well aware that I'm just diverting the

attention away from myself.

"Kind of. Maybe. I don't know."

"How decisive of you, bro," Riley notes dryly, and Ryan glares at him.

"Not all of us mate for life, man," Ryan shoots back, looking darkly at his

hands, and I blush furiously.

"... Life?" I feel my hand trembling a little, and my voice is a bit weak.

"Life. That's a...Well, lifetime."

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Riley's mother is saying kindly. "First love is

always a little scary."

"First..." My throat goes dry.

Riley's not my first love...

-//My life, my love, don't go away, don't turn away, don't leave me here, where

are you going? Come back! Come back! Angel! I'm not...I'm all alone, it's dark

here, it's cold, so cold, I love you, I love you, I love you...Let me love

you... Let me love you!//-

"Not my first," I whisper, so quietly that I'm not sure I even hear

myself...but everyone else seems to.

Riley certainly does.

His eyes darken. "Do we have to bring *him* up?"

-//You can't make me go away just because you say it's over!//-

"I just - " I stop, and look at my hands, "Sorry. Never mind. First love. Sure.

Never existed before Riley came along."

"That's not what I-" he starts, but I turn furious eyes on him, feeling this

strange anger bubbling up and out and through my veins, my eyes, my words, my

hands. I feel the Slayer jump to attention in me, deadly, angry, scared.

"Isn't it?" I ask, my voice low and harsh, "Isn't that what you want? Some

pretty little girl that exists only for you and never knew the world existed

til you swept in on your mighty stallion and showed it to her?"

"Buffy - " My mother starts, and stops abruptly. Honestly, I'd forgotten she

was there.

"Don't, Mom, I know your opinion. Angel was nothing, is nothing, means nothing!

I never loved him, and everything I felt, everything that passed between us was

part of some rebellious teenage PHASE!"

Hooo, boy, I have the feeling I've been holding all this in for months.

Bottlers should come with a warning label: May explode at unfortunate and

inappropriate moments. Please keep possible future in-laws out of hearing

range.

I'll have to write a letter of complaint to the manufacturer.

"Sweetheart, you know that's not - "

"Then why didn't he ever get this, huh? Why didn't you ask *him* around for tea

and cookies, not that he needs to eat, but hey, maybe then he would have felt

like part of the FAMILY instead of like my DIRTY LITTLE SECRET!"

I don't mean to be yelling. Can't seem to help myself.

"Buffy, stop yelling at your mother, she-"

"Who do you want me to yell at, Riley? You? Xander? All the rest of the fucking

world who made us feel *guilty* just for LOVING one another?? Yeah, that's a

crime. We're real awful people, caring about each other like that. We should be

put in jail. Or, hey! Maybe you can turn us in to your old Initiative buddies,

so they can do experiments on us and find out the source of our FILTHY EVIL!"

I fall to the floor, exhausted suddenly, not knowing where any of this came

from...for a few moments, there, I hated the world... I just wanted it all

gone.

Just me and Angel and a nice void of nothingness.

I let my head fall against my knee, and press my hands against the carpet.

"You don't understand," I whisper, spent, "and you don't even want to."

Everyone is staring at me, I know they are.

Do I care?

Hmm. I'll decide later how mortified I should be. Right now, all I know is that

I need... I need a fix. An Angel fix...I need to be wrapped up in his coolness

and his warmth and his lips and his love... I need to be cocooned in our

bond... I just need *him*.

"I'm sorry," I say softly, standing with as much dignity as I can muster, "I

didn't mean to... I'm sorry."

With that, I turn, and walk out the door...get into my new car, a present from

my never-present father.

And then I drive away home.

-//drive away, drive away, drive away home//-

***

Angel folds me into his arms the second I walk through the doors of the big

hotel. I'm surprised, but then, again, not. He always knows what I need.

I bury my face in his familiar chest, feel the slide of silk against my cheek,

and start to cry again, clutching at him, whispering incoherent words and

phrases of love.

He kisses the crown of my head, resting his cheek in my hair and running his

hands down my back. I can feel his love radiating through me.

When I start to feel my usual slightly-sane self, I lift my eyes to his and

swallow.

"Normal sucks."

*Fin*