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Butterfly Ops
Chapter Two

For most of the car ride, Riley looked out the window. With Graham and Sprague in the front seat, Buffy figured it was safe to reach out and take Riley's hand. All he did, though, was give her a quick smile and squeeze her hand before letting go and turning away.

She leaned back against the seat, angry with herself. How easy it was to fall back into old patterns. Hadn't it only been the night before that she had told herself she wouldn't let herself be afraid for him? That she wouldn't try and interfere with the life he had built? So much for new, supportive Buffy. Wasn't doing that great a job so far.

"So how does this work?" she asked, letting the question hang in the air for whoever wanted to answer. "If the girlfriend is there-"

"Leslie," Riley snapped, his eyes not leaving the passing scenery.

Fine. He didn't have to be obnoxious about it. "Leslie," Buffy repeated. "If she's there. How do you know she's even going to talk to you?"

Graham glanced in the rearview mirror. "Riley will get her to talk. He has a way with the widows and orphans. They know he's one of them."

'Widows and orphans'? Ouch. Buffy was surprised at Graham's harsh phrasing. It didn't seem to bother Riley, though. At least, he didn't react one way or another.

No one spoke another word until they pulled up to a small house on the outskirts of the city. A cute, little house, freshly painted with bright, white daisies in the garden. The look was marred by the overgrown grass and the empty beer bottles on the front porch.

It was clear where all the bottles had come from -- a woman was sitting in a plastic chair with her feet up on the railing, a cold Sam Adams in her hand. Her appearance was like that of the house -- good foundation, not so good upkeep. She had long, vibrant red hair messily pulled back from her face and her porcelain skin was set off by deep, black circles under bloodshot eyes. As she saw the car approach, she looked at them warily and stood up, staring at the car.

Buffy's hand was on the door, about to open it when Riley stopped her.

"Give me a minute," he said.

She nodded and sat back, watching as he got out. Neither Graham nor Sprague had moved -- clearly they had done this before. She had to admit -- she was a little jealous of how well they all seemed to understand each other. It was like someone had pulled each one of them aside and taught them the steps to the secret dance.

Well, geez. That's what happens when you miss fifteen years of someone's life. He moves on.

Still, it made her sad. As did the connection Riley felt with this woman, the one that was obvious from the way he approached her with a deference and solemnity that Buffy hadn't before seen. It was a totally different level -- an automatic bond between two people; completely unlike what he had with Buffy.

Nice, Buff. So now you're unhappy because he's compassionate? To someone who, yes, had the supermodel looks underneath the grieving shell. He probably hadn't noticed that, though.

Sure.

Just to be safe, Buffy slid over across the seat.

"Leslie Willett?" he said, a reminder to Buffy that he'd never actually met the woman before.

"Did you find him?" The hopefulness in Leslie's voice was heartbreaking. Almost enough so that Buffy thought about rolling the window up so as not to intrude. Thought about it. Didn't do it, of course.

Leslie sank back into her chair when Riley shook his head. Her hand trembled as it went to her mouth. It took a minute before she regained enough composure to speak. "You're the ones who've been calling me, aren't you?"

Riley nodded. "I'm sorry. I know this has been a horrible time."

"I meant to call back. The time just..." Her voice trailed off as she started crying softly.

From nowhere, Riley pulled out a tissue. "I know. It's a real bitch."

She let out a harsh laugh. "That's the first reasonable thing anyone's said to me in three weeks." She took the tissue as she nodded at the car. "They send you ahead to soften me up?"

He grinned. "Yup."

"It worked." She smiled and stood up. "Tell them to go ahead and come in. I'd like to change my clothes. I'm afraid the house is a lost cause."

They entered through the kitchen, the room that made 'lost cause' seem like an optimistic description. There were plates piled upon plates, all of which were full of untouched food. It looked like Leslie hadn't eaten in days.

"Should've changed into civvies before we came," Riley muttered, surveying the mess in the kitchen. Then, to Buffy's complete surprise, he started to unbutton the top of his uniform. Graham and Sprague did the same, draping their tops over the kitchen chairs.

Buffy watched them go to work scraping food and washing dishes. "Are the t-shirts regulation, too?" she asked as Riley began pulling things out of the cabinet. By the way, if they were? Good move. Uncle Sam knew what he was doing.

Riley grinned as he looked over at her. He held up a couple of cans of tomato sauce. "Never fails. We tend to have a lot of spaghetti dinners."

Spaghetti Buffy could do. She hunted around for a knife and some garlic and started chopping.

By the time Leslie came in, freshly showered and changed, the water was boiling and tomato sauce was simmering. "Oh," she said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "That smells so good. I haven't..." She didn't finish her sentence, but instead went to a cupboard for dishes.

Buffy was amazed at how much the simple act of setting a table and pouring wine put the woman at ease. And once dinner was on the table, at how subtly Riley and Graham guided the conversation to innocuous topics on which everyone could comment. Though their style was completely different from Angel's, it was just as effective.

"Thank you," Leslie said, finishing off her second plate of pasta and pushing it aside. "I didn't realize how hungry I was." She got up to get another bottle of wine. After refilling everyone's glass, she turned to Riley. "I guess you want to talk about what happened."

He nodded.

"If we go in the living room, will you clean that up, too?" She smiled and led them into the other room, clearing some newspapers off the couches and chairs and dropping them on the floor. As everyone sat, she bent down to pick a photo album off the floor. "Daniel gave me that. The first few pictures are from the night we got engaged. It was supposed to be the prequel to the wedding album." She put it on the coffee table in front of Riley.

Riley paged through it and Buffy could see the pain in his eyes. Did he even have a wedding album? The only thing she'd seen that had come close was a snapshot of Riley and Sam, each caked in mud. He was cupping her chin as he leaned in to kiss her. He said Graham had taken it the day after they were married. Buffy hadn't gotten much more than that out of him. Same flash of pain, though. Then he'd moved on to something else.

As he was doing now, asking Leslie, "Why did you go to Quetico?"

Leslie sat on the edge of one of the couches. "To spread his wife's ashes." She looked down, a couple of tears breaking through. "I know. Bringing your fiancée to spread your wife's ashes. Really dumb. Or incredibly insensitive. Either way, it sounds weird."

Riley glanced over at Buffy. "No, it doesn't." He turned back to Leslie. "Is that why he went off alone?"

Nodding, Leslie answered, "He said he'd be back in a couple of hours."

"How long was it before you reported him missing?" Graham asked.

She wiped her eyes. "The next day. I would have stayed in the camp longer, but we'd already been there a week and there wasn't much food left. Dan could have caught fish or figured something else out." She shrugged. "I'm pretty useless in that respect."

Riley's turn for a question: "Do you remember where the camp was?"

"Pretty much. And the tent is still there with some supplies in it. In case Dan..." She caught her breath and looked Riley square in the eye. "He's dead, isn't he?"

The flash of pain hit Riley's eyes again. "I think that's something you need to prepare for."

The tears that had been trickling became a downpour, and Leslie covered her face with her hands. Riley was next to her in a second, his arm around her shoulders as she cried into his shirt. It took her a few minutes before she could speak again, saying, "The police said there were others..."

Though Riley let go of her as soon as she regained her composure, the intimacy remained. Leslie obviously trusted him completely, the one other person in the room who could possibly understand what she was going through. Buffy felt like she, Graham, and Sprague were merely unwelcome flies on the wall, listening in as Riley said, "We're trying to find some kind of pattern. See if we can figure out why this is happening." He looked down at his hands. "I'm sorry. I know this is the last thing you want to do."

Leslie took a deep breath and then sat back in her chair. "Ask whatever you want. I'll try and answer."

They went over the day her fiancé disappeared from the moment they woke up -- "the most beautiful sunrise I've ever seen -- red, pink, and purple" -- to the minute she reported him missing. Going over the details time and again didn't seem to yield anything new. Nothing sounded unusual. And she said she'd been so out of it during the interview at the police station that she didn't even remember the conversation had been taped, much less the machine being turned off and then on again.

Right before they left, Riley wrote his cell phone number on his business card and handed it to Leslie. "We'll be in town for a couple more days, but you can always reach me here. Just in case anything comes to you. And, you know, if you need to talk..."

Her hand trembling, Leslie took the card. "Thank you. For everything -- dinner, maid service. Making me..." Her voice broke. "I think it will be awhile until I laugh again."

He reached out for her shoulder. "You'll get through this. It's gonna suck for a while, but you will get through."

She nodded, her hands going to her eyes and knees giving way as her tears turned to sobs. Riley caught her as she fell and held on.

Buffy had to admit -- she wasn't entirely thrilled with the heart-to-heart contact. On the other hand, she'd seen enough loss to know that this was exactly what Leslie needed: a shred of hope. Some reassurance that she'd be able to survive this. Still, as Buffy got back into the car, she was glad she hadn't closed the window. Otherwise she wouldn't have overheard Leslie stop crying and say, "I'm sorry. Twice in one day. I don't usually..."

Riley smiled. "Don't worry. This uniform has taken a lot of tears." He turned to go down the porch steps; stopped and turned back when she spoke again.

"You remind me of him." She wiped her eyes. "I feel like I just hugged him good-bye." She bent down to pick up some of the empty bottles off the porch floor. "Good night." She went in the house and closed the door behind her.

When Riley joined the rest of them in the car, Buffy asked, "You o.k.?"

"Yeah," he said, taking the hand she offered to him. Keeping it this time. "Thanks." He looked out the window as Graham pulled away.

~ End of Chapter 2 ~

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Posted November 26, 2003; updated June 10, 2004