"So this is kind of like junior high school?" Buffy asked Riley in one of the few moments they were able to catch alone together. Not that alone was exactly the right word given they were in the middle of the backyard, surrounded by all these other people. "Girls at the picnic table, boys around the grill?"

It wasn't exactly a scene he had ever been able to picture her in: the Slayer in suburbia. She probably preferred the Hellmouth. The fact that she was willing to put up with this made him love her even more, if that was possible. "Thank you for doing this."

"Don't tell anyone, but I'm actually kind of enjoying myself." She smiled. "I hear I'm supposed to play football, though. That you're going to have to pay for."

"Sarah told you about that?" He turned when he heard his name called. "In a minute!" he shouted in the general direction of the grill.

She grabbed a Coke out of the cooler and started back to where Sarah was sitting with several other women. "You're just lucky it's touch and not tackle," she called over her shoulder. "You would be so dead."

He watched her walk back and sit next to Sarah, already looking like she belonged as she laughed at something someone had just said.

Buffy Summers sitting in Graham's backyard. Here with Riley. He'd thought that this would feel less strange as the hours passed. It didn't. It still felt surreal.

"Hey, Ri -- come on!" Graham yelled as he held his arms open. "You gonna hook us up or what?"

Forcing himself to look away from Buffy, Riley nodded his head and reached down to pull out a few bottles of beer. He brought the drinks back over to where Graham and the other guys were standing.

"Well, Sarah seems to have taken to her," Graham said, nodding his head towards the picnic table.

"I'm not the one that needs convincing," Riley replied.

Graham avoided answering by shouting, "Who's hungry?!" He clearly wasn't ready to trust Buffy yet.

Honestly? Riley wasn't really ready to trust her yet, either. Not that he thought she was lying exactly -- he didn't doubt that she was happy to see him; and she'd clearly been enjoying herself. Well, hey -- last night had been pretty enjoyable.

That was the issue, though: last night. One night. This was Buffy after all. Professing her lifelong love for Riley? He didn't think so.

Still, he had an in. He had some time to work on her. And Graham was wrong about how much more he had to lose this time around. Back then Riley had been in a different place. One where there was nowhere left to go but down. That wasn't quite the case anymore. Really -- what could she take from him? It's not like his heart could be broken again. Sam's death had pretty much left it pulverized.

That didn't mean he couldn't love Buffy, though. Far from it. He was as in love with her now as he ever had been. It was just that he was a lot more realistic these days. His expectations weren't quite so high. His definition of what constituted a good relationship completely different. All that mattered right now was that the crazy was still there and it still made him happy. Happier than he'd been in a long time. Much too long. That was enough for him.

Riley managed to actually sit next to Buffy at dinner, thinking that she was right about this being like junior high school. He thought that had probably been the last time in his life he was so affected by the simple act of someone's hand brushing against his.

Not to mention what a different light it put on the game of touch football -- getting a thrill whenever she got the ball because it gave him an excuse to put his hands around her waist. She seemed to feel the same way because somehow even tackle-less football required full body blocking. And Riley was fairly certain she knew that touch football didn't mean that kind of touching. Yet she managed to be right...there. Without anyone noticing.

How was Riley sure about the not noticing part? Because Kate -- who was hyper-aware of everything Buffy was doing -- wasn't acting at all surly. And Graham -- who was watching them like a surreptitious hawk -- was not the kind of guy to let something like that go without comment. That was just fine with Riley. Carrying out major physical contact just below everyone else's radar screen was o.k. in his book.

He was about to catch a pass when it occurred to him that they probably weren't the only ones, however, and every indecent thought that passed through his head -- possibly, even, some of the indecent touches -- had already made its rounds among all these kids. That thought, of course, made him miss the pass, which was caught instead by Annie who ran it in for the opposing team's winning touchdown. Ordinarily, it would have pissed him off to make such a stupid mistake, but in this case it was a blessing. Otherwise he would have spent the rest of the game obsessing about Annie and Charlie. Kate and Ben were pretty circumspect, too.

Man, did this suck.

"Did you miss that on purpose?" Graham asked. "Or are we going to have to get used to losing now that your mind is on Buffy all the time?"

"No more touch football," Riley said, completely out of sorts. "Do you realize what these kids are thinking about? What they might actually be doing? It's like a field day for hormones. Next time we play croquet."

"We've been doing this all summer and you're just figuring that out now?" Graham shook his head and laughed as he walked towards the house.

"Hey -- that was actually fun!" Buffy said, coming over to Riley. "Thanks for helping us win." She smiled.

"Believe me, it was totally unintentional." And anyway, "Not that it mattered -- I saw that last play you made." It had been subtle, the way she'd used her Slayer skills during the game; not subtle enough, though. He knew the way her body worked.

"You noticed that?" she asked, not at all concerned that she'd been caught in the act. She was already on to the next thought. "Did you see that Kate actually passed to me twice? I even got a high five in the end zone." She waved at people as they started to leave. "It's time to go home now?"

She seemed absolutely giddy -- high from the game. Who knew that the way into her heart was touch football and barbeque? Damn. "I was actually thinking we might talk to Graham about the meeting in Toronto. You up for some shop talk?"

"O.k.," she said happily, shrugging her shoulders. "Whatever."

Graham told them to wait in his office while he helped Sarah make sure everything was cleaned up and that the kids were set watching movies. He brushed off their attempts to assist by saying, "We've got it covered. Give me fifteen, maybe twenty minutes."

"Was that like the green light, Graham-style?" Buffy asked as she followed Riley into the room.

"Close enough." Which was pretty amazing, given Graham's whole distrust of Buffy thing. Riley wasn't about to waste the opportunity, however. He closed the door behind him and bent down, marveling how he had gone years without craving her, yet the last six hours of not being able to touch her beyond the confines of the football game had been pure hell.

"Clothes stay on," he warned, talking to himself as much as to her as he led her over to a small couch in the corner of the room.

No -- that actually made it sound like there was some control involved. It was more of a hands all over each other, stumbling across the room thing. They hit the couch by chance and fell down to it, her landing on top of him. The next ten minutes were mostly lost to Riley, although it definitely would go down in his personal history as one of the better times he'd ever had with his clothes on. Well, except for his zipper being down. And Buffy's shirt was kind of up around her shoulders. Other than that, though...

Considering his willpower was pretty much getting shot to hell, it was a good thing when the phone on Graham's desk rang, reminding Riley that he was in his best friend's office, with his kids and all their friends in another room not too far away. Riley stopped his hands from roaming.

Buffy pouted. "What happened? You don't have to answer that, do you?"

"Just coming up for air," he said, sitting up straighter.

She sighed and sat up, pulling her shirt down and smoothing her hair. "I suppose we should stop." She let her hand slowly trail up the inside of his thigh. Let it linger where his zipper wasn't zippered.

Damn, he thought. Or actually, he might have groaned.

She grinned. "Thought you might need something to look forward to." She reached up and cupped his chin, leaning in for one more kiss before completely disentangling herself from his arms and legs. She got up off the couch and glanced back at him. "We're just getting started."

"Yeah?" He zippered up his fly and leaned back smiling, wondering when exactly they were going to finish what they had just started given his schedule over the next few days -- picking up Dad and Liam at the airport tonight, Jack's baseball practice tomorrow night, and the Red Sox game with Liam on Friday.

Maybe a long lunch tomorrow. He had about a billion days of vacation time racked up; no one could fault him for taking an extra hour or two.

He watched her walk across the room, her attention focused on the photographs hanging above Graham's desk.

"This one's nice." She pointed to a picture of Forrest, his arms around Riley and Graham, all three holding their cans of beer out, toasting whoever was holding the camera.

Riley rested his arms along the back of the couch, stretched his legs out in front of him. "Our first week in Sunnydale. Had no clue what we were getting into."

She smiled at him, then moved her gaze to a larger black and white photo -- Riley surrounded by his and Graham's kids as he held an infant wrapped in a blanket. "Who's the baby?" she asked.

"Graham's youngest. Sam," he answered, working hard to keep his voice even as he remembered that incredibly emotional day.

He'd been so touched that Graham and Sarah had named their baby Sam, and yet it brought back so much. Hearing the name uttered over and over again, for one. For another, the twinkle in Sam's eye on the day Jack was born when she said she wasn't ready to name a kid Sam yet, despite her parents' pushing for the family name that hadn't skipped a generation in about two centuries -- she was still a little traumatized by going through most of her life as Sam Adams. But she might be willing to go for a fifth. 'Give me another year or two,' she'd said, laughing as Jack howled in her arms.

Riley sat forward, blocking out the unpleasant and -- unfortunately -- all-too-familiar burning sensation in his eyes as the memory suddenly took hold.

He looked up to see that Buffy's attention had moved on to another black and white picture, this one with even more painful associations. Great.

She asked, "Was this the team that-?"

Crashed and burned? "Yep." He usually avoided looking at that particular picture when he was in here with Graham. This time, however, he didn't seem to have much of a choice.

It had been taken by some random soldier right before the helicopter took off. Sam was already inside, smiling at the camera, but unable to hide the fierce look in her eyes. Riley had never been able to make up his mind whether the look was from the fight they'd had the day before or because of the excitement for the mission. He tried not to give it too much thought because either way it hurt too much: the guilt from their last angry conversation battling with the painful loss of her energy from his life.

Connors, the pilot, was just finishing his pre-flight check. Riley could practically hear him yelling for the rest of the squad to get their asses in gear and in the chopper. Jackson, as usual, giving Connors a hard time, his devilish grin caught on film. Murphy -- always two steps behind, always seemingly clueless, but always there in the clutch -- crouching down to tie his boot, totally oblivious to everyone around him. And Graham, leaning against the chopper, clipboard in his hands as he signed off on some last minute orders.

The picture, taken only hours before the crash, had been part of the investigation, and Riley had had to look at it more than he could stomach in those early days; he could never understand how Graham could stand to have it hanging where he couldn't help but see it almost every day. Even now, it hurt to look at. And yet it was compelling. An almost perfect photograph, one that captured the essence of each member of the team, much better than any of the memorial services Riley had been to in the weeks that followed.

He hadn't realized how lost in thought he'd become until he noticed Buffy sitting down next to him. She put her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek before settling down, her feet curled up underneath her. His arm slipped around her shoulder and she leaned into him, hugging him tightly.

"I'm so sorry," was all she said.

Riley just nodded. Talk about an effective way to kill the mood. Still, he appreciated that she didn't try to offer comfort, didn't try to turn anything around. She simply sat there holding him, not saying a word.

Graham came into the room a few minutes later. "So, what's up?" he asked.

Riley took his arm out from around Buffy and leaned forward, happy to focus on something entirely new. "You get a chance to talk to Sarah yet about the meeting on Monday?"

"He sure did." Sarah pushed open the door with her hip as she carried in a tray laden with coffee cups and a plate of brownies. "No wonder he's been so chatty today." To Buffy, she said, "Graham gets downright conversational when he's in a bad mood, and that woman always puts him in a bad mood." She put the tray down on Graham's desk. "Milk? Sugar?"   

"Yes, thanks," Buffy said, taking the mug Sarah held out to her.

Riley was interested to watch the dynamic between the two women. It was comfortable -- more so than he'd realized when watching them before dinner. There was more to it than just Sarah taking to Buffy -- Buffy had clearly been equally taken with Sarah.

Not that Riley was surprised by that. Sarah was beyond great -- he'd loved her from the moment Graham introduced her. And it certainly didn't hurt that Sarah wasn't at all freaked out by the whole demon thing. She was just pissed that Graham had tried to hide it from her. He'd had to do the entire household's laundry for about five years after that -- through Josh and Mitch's entire potty-training years. Not pretty.

Whatever it was that Buffy and Sarah talked about in the kitchen, Riley had a feeling that at some point Sarah would have revealed she knew what was going on. And seeing that Buffy had always taken on way too much of the life-can-really-suck burden, it probably didn't hurt to have another person added to the circle of people she didn't have to hide things from.

Not, of course, that Buffy would actually confide in Sarah. It just upped the comfort factor. And that couldn't be bad.

"Jessica Cain?" Buffy asked of no one in particular.

Looking at Graham pointedly, Riley said, "Who Buffy is now working for."

Graham sat back in his chair, about as happy as Riley figured he'd be. "You're kidding. Cain brought in reinforcements?" Graham shook his head. "Unbelievable." He turned to Buffy. "What are you supposed to be doing for her?"

Buffy glanced at Riley before looking back at Graham and mumbling, "I can't really talk about it."

Of course she couldn't, Riley thought. It had been obnoxious of him to bring it up that way. He looked at Buffy. "Sorry. Angel should probably be part of this conversation." He shifted forward, hands on his knees as he prepared to stand up. "If you want to talk to him alone first, that's fine."

Riley tried not to sound jealous as he said that. No, make that, tried not to actually be jealous. He had no right. Still, it was definitely nice when she put her hand on Riley's knee -- on the inside of his knee, rather, and flashed him a smile. "I don't need to talk to him alone." She turned to Graham. "Phone?"

Catching the handset he threw to her, she dialed. "Hi, it's me," she said, presumably when Angel picked up. "You have a minute?"

An animated conversation ensued, one in which she was clearly not entirely happy with Angel.

"No, I will not..." She cut off as Angel said something. "Angel... No. What I said was..." She let out a sound that was the verbal equivalent of stomping her foot. "Fine." She held out the phone to Riley. "He wants to talk to you."

"He does?" Riley asked. Really? He sat up straight and took the phone, not sure what exactly to say to the man. Um, vampire. "Angel."

There were a few seconds of silence before Angel responded with, "Riley. Feels like I'm talking to a ghost."

"Feels like I'm talking to a vampire," Riley snapped, thinking that that was an incredibly immature response for a forty-year-old man.

"So it looks like we're not exactly on the same side, here," Angel said.

"I'm on the side of the hikers who keep turning up dead -- which side are you on?" Riley replied, realizing he could be handling this better. He was suddenly reminded of that day in Buffy's dorm room about sixteen years back. Which was probably why there was an edge to his voice, one Buffy clearly noticed, given the way she'd tensed beside him.   

Graham noticed it, too, as was obvious when he hit the button that put the phone on speaker and said, "Angel -- Graham Miller. I work with Riley. Jessica might have mentioned my name."

"Yes," Angel said. "Not entirely in a positive way."

"No, probably not." Graham smiled. "I realize this isn't the way you usually do things, but I think we can all work together on this."

Angel wasted no time in responding, "My client doesn't seem to think so."

Riley had to admit, he was kind of happy to hear that there was an edge in Angel's voice as well.

Buffy didn't seem to feel the same way, if the glare on her face was any indication. Yes, definitely reminiscent of that day. "I think Graham's right," she said, her annoyance obvious. "We're stronger if we do this together. We have the same ultimate goal; there's no reason we should be at odds."

"Would someone mind clarifying what the ultimate goal is?" Sarah asked. "I'm still a little unclear on that point."

Riley had completely forgotten that Sarah was there, but her voice seemed to cut the tension a little. Buffy, at least, seemed less irritated when she said, "Angel, that was Sarah, Graham's wife."

Now, personally, if Riley were in Angel's shoes, he wouldn't exactly be thrilled to find out that yet another person was privy to his client's business. Buffy didn't seem to care about that, though. She seemed more concerned with getting Angel and Riley to talk to each other, prodding Riley, "Tell Angel what you told me." The glare was back, and Riley had a feeling that he could forget anymore of that making out on the couch thing if he didn't start acting his age. Immediately.

Riley looked at Graham. He just shrugged, his response basically: you clearly already told Buffy, why stop now?

The details Riley gave were as much for Sarah's sake as they were for Angel's: the bodies of hikers turning up with no discernible cause of death apart from the fact that their hearts had stopped. In itself, that wouldn't have attracted much attention -- an isolated heart attack or two was to be expected in what could often be grueling conditions. Ten, however, were suspicious, especially when they happened to young, seemingly healthy men. Add that to the fact that the bodies had strange markings on them, and it was clear that something unusual was going on. Something still going on because in addition to the dead bodies, there were four people missing, two of those four disappearing within the last three weeks.

"Why are you involved?" Angel asked. "Why didn't they go to the police?"

"They did at first," Riley answered. "The police are the ones who came to us."

"We can get you the transcripts from the interviews," Graham said. "The ones with the guides are particularly interesting, mostly because of what they don't say."

The guides interviewed had been unusually forthcoming, supplying dates, facts, and copious details in answer to almost every question, baffling the police because none of the information provided had given a clue to how these men had died. During one of the interviews, a policewoman had jokingly said something about an evil spirit, since nothing human could do this so cleanly.

The response spoke volumes -- after that, every single person the police tried to interview refused to cooperate in any way. What had at first seemed to be a joke now seemed to have its roots in truth.

"How did they know to come to you?" Buffy asked softly, with coldness in her voice. She pulled away from Riley. "How did they even know you exist?"

Riley wasn't sure what about this part of the conversation was making her respond in quite this way. "There's usually someone who's heard of us."

"And there are always rumors when something like this is happening," Graham added. "We tend to find out about them."

There was a pause, one heavy and long enough for Riley to realize that there was something Buffy and Angel weren't saying, something big enough to provoke a reaction. For example. Buffy's suddenly flushed cheeks; tears that had sprung to her eyes.

Angel finally broke the silence, asking, "How is it that we've never crossed paths before?"

Riley barely heard Angel's question. Leaning towards Buffy, Riley reached for her hand. "Buffy...?"

"I thought you were dead," she whispered, shaking her head. "But all along..." She yanked her hand back. "Were you watching me? All this time?"

"Watching you?" Riley repeated, still unsure of where this had come from. "All this-?"

"When Sam was alive..." Her voice would have been a hiss if it hadn't been shrouded in pain. "Did you even care?"

He couldn't believe she would say that, much less think it. Of course he'd cared. Too much. She had it entirely wrong.

She looked down at their hands. "Did you ever...?" she said quietly, oblivious to the fact that Angel's question hadn't been answered and all attention was on her. Either oblivious or she didn't care. "Why didn't you ever try to find me?"

God. So wrong.

He grabbed her hand back. "I did."

Once -- when time still felt like a friend and life was full of beginnings, not endings. Only that one time in Sunnydale -- weeks before Jack's birth; still months away from Sam's death. Even though he'd been in Sunnydale with Sam's blessing, every passing hour had seemed to be taking him further into the past, further away from his wife and family. Running into one dead end after another -- at Willow's, at Xander's, at the magic shop -- had seemed like one huge cosmic sign to give up the ghost and let Buffy go.

Now, of course, it seemed as if he had given up far too easily; then, though, it had just felt more like a betrayal of Sam and the life they had built together.

And after Sam's death -- after he'd come out of a hell darker than anything else he had ever been through, after something far worse than those months following Sunnydale -- only then, had he been able to think about Buffy again; only then, when it was too late. After surviving that darkness, he knew he wasn't strong enough to go through it again.

No matter how simple it would have been to find Xander or Willow or even Angel through one of the scores of connections Riley and Graham had forged in their years in this business -- no matter how easy it would have been to make that phone call -- he could never face it. Could never quite face the possibility of hearing that Buffy was dead, too.

Riley couldn't keep the catch out of his voice as he answered, "It was better to think you were alive, than to know you were dead."

How could it possibly hurt so much to say that? How could it possibly hurt so much when he knew she was alive? When she was sitting right here, holding his hand.

She looked at him for a few seconds, biting her lip. Then her arms went around his neck, her head became buried in his chest. "Oh, Riley," she murmured as her voice trembled. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He held her tightly, wondering why she thought she should be sorry. He was the one who had given up, who had just assumed that she was gone despite the obvious lack of proof. And considering the kinds of things he'd seen over the last twenty years, proof required a lot more than a 'for sale' sign. Hell, in her case it required more than a gravestone. More than her body in the grave, in fact.

No. If anyone should be sorry, it was him. He was the reason so many years had been wasted. He was the one who-

Unless... God. Riley put his hand to his face.

Unless she'd done the same. Unless she'd given up, too, which, from the regret in her eyes seemed like a strong possibility.

So many damn years.

Buffy's face was only inches from his and she was looking right into his eyes. Her hand went to his cheek. "I love you," she said softly. "So, so much."

He pulled her back down knowing that he wasn't capable of responding. Not after she'd looked at him like that; not after she'd said that. He could feel the pieces of his heart being put back together, one by one. He hadn't actually been ready for that. One day. It had just been one day.

It didn't matter. He didn't want to let her go. Ever. He silently sent thanks to whatever it was -- God, Fate, Chance, Luck -- that had somehow brought them back together.

Buffy clung right back, not releasing her hold until Angel cleared his throat. She laughed a little as she pulled away, wiping her eyes and mumbling something about being a blubbering mess.

Right. Like those words could ever be used to describe her. He put his hand in her hair. "I promise you," he whispered. "I won't give up again."

She grinned and put her finger to his lips. "Better not."

They both turned when they saw a flash of white from across the room.

Sarah. Grabbing a tissue. She stopped her hand in mid-air. "I'm sorry, that's just so..." She waved her hand. "Sorry. Forget I'm here. Carry on."

Graham rolled his eyes, clearly happy to do just that. "Angel -- you do much work in Canada?"

"No. This is our first case outside of L.A.," Angel replied.

"Well, that explains it then." Graham swiveled in his chair. "Ever since the whole Sunnydale thing our bosses tend to shy away from southern California. From any kind of domestic intervention, in fact -- we'll assist and advise local law enforcement, but only if requested."

"What do you do outside of the U.S.?" Angel asked. "What's your role in this case?"

"That's what Monday's meeting is supposed to be about" Graham grabbed a brownie off the plate and downed it in two bites. "Typically our teams identify and eliminate the threat. In this case, our first priority is actually getting the provincial government to let us into the Park under our terms. The land is highly protected so there are a lot of restrictions on what types of equipment we can use. But I'm concerned about the safety of my men; I don't want to send them in unprotected."

"Then that's probably why they hired us." Buffy held on to Riley's hand as she spoke. "We don't really use any high tech equipment. Crossbows and stakes." She grinned. "I have some cool knives."

Graham looked at Riley. "I'm assuming none of those have the potential to wipe out a couple thousand acres with one blast."

"You don't know Buffy," Riley said at the same time as Angel did, which did not make him at all happy.

Graham, on the other hand, seemed to find that very funny. He actually laughed out loud. It seemed to be enough, however, for him to make the official request: "What do you think, Angel? About working with us? I realize that Jessica's your client and you won't be able to share much information. Still, I think it would help us all if we're on the same page."

Angel took forever to respond. He finally said, "However Buffy wants to proceed is fine with me."

"Great." Graham leaned forward, smiling at Riley. Task accomplished. Major hurdle cleared. "We'll get you those transcripts tomorrow morning. If there's anything else you need, let me know."

"Sure," Angel responded. "Buffy..."

"I know," she said, pulling her hand away from Riley. "I'll call you. First thing tomorrow. And, thanks."

"Don't mention it," he said. "'Night." He hung up.

"I guess we should get going." Riley stood as Graham shut off the phone. "I'll just go round up Kate and Annie."

"Oh, I forgot," Sarah said, standing up herself. "I was talking to the girls earlier about staying over tonight -- I have tomorrow off so I was thinking we'd head to the beach. And your mom called -- Liam and your dad got an offer to go night diving so they're not coming home until tomorrow."

"Really." Riley looked from her to Graham. That all sounded very convenient coming from Miss Matchmaker. "Did you and my mom actually plan all that?"

Sarah shrugged innocently. "Just kind of worked out that way."

Riley muttered, "There just seems something wrong with that."

Laughing, Graham said, "What? Having my wife pimp for you?" He took another brownie. "Man, stop being such a boy scout. Just go with it."

Gee, Graham. Thanks. "Boy scout?"

Buffy was blushing a little, but she grinned. "Looks like it's just you and me." She got up from the couch and gave Sarah a hug. "It was wonderful to meet you."

Returning the hug, Sarah said, "You just look after these boys up there with that woman. She's a piece of work."

"So I've been told." Buffy turned to Graham. "Thanks for being willing to work with us. I guess I'll see you on Monday."