She let the doorbell clammer away unanswered, hoping whoever was waiting on the other side would take the hint and leave. But after a second and a third insistent buzzing she accepted the inevitability of another confrontation.

"Look, now's really not a good time-" she started, incredibly truthfully, as she opened the door, then froze. Shock made every muscle in her body rigid. "Riley?"

She held her breath as if he was merely an apparition of her exhausted mind, but as he relaxed out of his military stance she jolted at the realization that he definitely was standing in front of her. At her house. Like nothing had happened.

Oh my God, I died and went back to the beginning again, Buffy thought sourly. It's like some stupid video game! I just lose a life but I'm still trapped in it!

This is so unfair how does he just get to show up? No… warning!? No nothing?!

"Hello, Buffy," he said, shuffling awkwardly on the front porch, hands still clasped behind his back in a perfect caricature of a soldier on leave. "Forgive me for dropping by unannounced."

"Yes," Buffy nodded, enthusiastically agreeing with the sentiment. "Very unannounced. No… announcement whatsoever."

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly peering into the empty dark house behind her. "This is a bad time?" he clarified but showed no intention of leaving.

"It's always a bad time." She swallowed as she made room for him to pass into the living room, her eyes bouncing from the take-out trash heaped on the coffee table, the dirty laundry heaped in the armchair, and the dust collecting in the corners.

Great. I look like a slob, and the place is a mess. This is exactly the scene anyone would want to greet their Top-Secret-Demon-Hunter-Ex-Boyfriend into. Thanks a billion, universe.

Maybe Angel can drop by unannounced afterward. Really garnish this hell-salad that is my life.

An awkward silence seemed to stretch like a taut elastic band between them before Riley eventually cleared his throat.

"How's Dawn?" he asked and Buffy nodded again feeling more and more like a bobblehead on a car dashboard going over a bumpy road. Like an avatar in an arcade game, wobbling back and forth, waiting for instructions.

Press X to continue…

"Driving me crazy," she said simply. And plenty truthfully.

Riley smirked like she was joking. "And your mom?"

Buffy blinked, taken aback by the question. That hadn't been part of the expected dialogue for this cut scene. Naively she assumed he must've heard about it all whilst he was off acquiring that scar on his face. Doing whatever daring-dos do.

"Dead," she said, too stunned to think of a more delicate way of phrasing it.

The politely-interested-until-we-can-talk-about-why-I'm-here look fell from Riley's face. "What?"

"Dead," Buffy repeated, swallowing hard. "Brain aneurysm. Last year. Was… painless."

Riley's mouth moved silently for a couple of seconds before he managed to mumble a sosorry.

Oh, wildly off script here, Buffy thought fussing with the hem of her shirt, waiting for a blinking dialogue box in her brain to flash up with something to fill the silence with. Waiting for him to say more too, mentally tallying how long they hadn't seen each other. It had been… fourteen months? So… nine for me, if you don't count the brief period of game exit-ness, she thought to herself.

When no further questions came she huffed out an aggravated sigh. "You're here, why? Why with the… you hereness?" she tried, groaning internally. Whoever was in charge of the Buffy controls was making some absolutely appalling dialogue selections.

"We need your help," Riley bounced back as if a button had been pushed that reset the entire scene, jolting them away from that near precipice of guilt and pity. It wasn't lost on Buffy how relieved he clearly was at the change in topic, and some angry piece of her flared a little at that.

Mom died, I died, everyone nearly died, and all he cares about is his mission.

It hurt how un-shocked she was at that realization. Even when her mother had been in the hospital Riley had found some way to turn that trauma around to make himself the victim. To try and claim a bit of her attention even when she was so stretched thin.

Everyone's always like that, she thought angrily, bitterness twisting her face before she could pull it back to neutral Buffy again.

They want something from you, but don't care at all how you're doing on the inside…

Her eyes drift for a half second to the dining room, where Spike's absence still seems to linger.

Not everyone, she thinks with a sting of melancholy.

"Buffy?" Riley said, interrupting her train of thought and she jumped.

"Sorry, uh… help? Me to… help you. Right. Or… Roger. No wait, is that pirates?" She shook her head, making to follow Riley out the front door. Just like old times, she sighed internally, feeling even more stuck on a narrative she couldn't escape from. "Press A to begin."

"Pardon?" he called back over his shoulder, as he unholstered some sort of radio/tracker/taser thing from his belt.

I said that out loud. Buffy rolled her eyes at herself, feeling her sanity taking another stumble. "Sorry, nothing… been dealing with these geeks and it's… been a whole thing," she clarified as she closed the door behind her. "Just… ignore me. Monsters, ho."