Buffy sat back in the seat, watching Riley as he backed the car out of the driveway.

"What?" he said, smiling as he caught her gaze.

She grinned. "Nothing."

He really was a boy scout. Not her type at all. He'd been wrong, though, in believing he didn't matter to her. She'd handled it badly -- handled him badly. But she'd been happy with what they'd had -- he was exactly what she wanted exactly when she wanted it. That summer had been the happiest of her life. Still was, even in retrospect. It was just that the promise it held -- of the cake she could have and eat, too -- um, figuratively -- hadn't quite been realized.

Partly her fault -- she should have told him that she saw a future there; partly his fault -- he shouldn't have...

No. Don't go there, Buffy. Not right now. Especially when you're not exactly blameless.

She shook the thoughts from her head. She was different now. So much better at this kind of thing. Reaching out, she took his hand.

He glanced down and then back at the road. "So tell me about this living with Angel thing."

His voice held no trace of emotion, not a hint of jealousy. She had a feeling he was working very hard to maintain that. "It wasn't exactly a thing," she answered. "I just lived with him. In his hotel. No big."

The look on his face spoke volumes. 'No big.' She could practically hear him think: the love of her life and living with him is no big. Which, o.k., yeah. 'No Big' may have been a little bit of an exaggeration. Not that much, though. Really.

"His hotel?" Riley was saying. "After Spike?"

"Well, kind of during. Which then became after." To make a very long story very, very short.

"You moved in with Angel while you were still with Spike," Riley said. "How exactly did Spike feel about that?"

Buffy looked out the window remembering Spike's outrage when she was moving to L.A. To Angel's hotel, to be exact. His reaction wasn't a surprise by any means, but she still cringed when she thought about it. By that point, though, they both knew things weren't going to last; it wasn't as though she'd had anything to lose.

"He wasn't thrilled," she responded.

"I'll bet." Riley looked at her strangely. Or so it seemed from the corner of her eye. She doubted he felt too sorry for Spike, but still, he certainly understood the ouch.

"How long?" he asked.

She turned back to Riley. "How long what?"

"How long did you live with him?" His eyes were back on the road; his voice back to that emotionless thing.

"Eight years."

"Eight years?" Riley asked, sitting back in the seat, because, yeah, it was kind of a long time. "And you never...?"

"Never what?" Buffy wished he'd just come out and say it. If he wasn't going to, though, she may as well do the honors. "Slept together? Is that what you're going for here?"

He looked at her, obviously irritated, "Why don't you want to talk about him?"

She couldn't help it even though she knew how much that had hurt Riley last time around. There were some things that still weren't easy for her. Talking about Angel was one of them. "I don't know. It's just complicated."

"Try me," Riley said.

She looked down at Riley's hand in hers remembering a very similar conversation she'd had with Angel, about Riley, in fact. It wasn't like she was any better talking about him, especially to Angel. Not that there hadn't been plenty of opportunity, starting with the night of her mother's funeral when Angel wanted to know why he was the one sitting there instead of her boyfriend.

The year that followed Riley's leaving had been so horrible that it wasn't until months after he came back with Sam that she fully understood the impact he'd had on her life. The impact he would have had if he'd stayed. What her life could have been like.

That had all been part of the soul-searching, which is how she thought of the summer after Tara's death: when she started to make sense of things; when she finally took a step back and actually looked at everything around her instead of feeling responsible for it all. Not until that summer, with Willow in England, with Xander and Anya avoiding each other, and with Spike out of the picture... Not until then did she really start to think about her life - what had become of it, what she wanted it to be. And finally, after what seemed like forever, she started to get back on track.

Every once in a while she'd thought about somehow letting Riley know that she was back on top again, that the wheels were turning. He'd have liked that. He'd have liked that she and Dawn stopped being at each other's throats all the time, and were instead watching each other's backs.

He probably wouldn't have liked her letting Spike back into her life; might not have understood that Spike had been different -- wounded, kind of like where Buffy had been the year before. Teetering on the brink. She couldn't help but hold her hand out and lead him to surer ground.

It took a long time to get beyond the anger, to deal with all the things Spike had done. Slowly, though - gradually - she came to know the man beneath the monster, the man with a heart that didn't beat; with a newly found soul. And she fell in love.

But the darkness was never far away - as she strived to distance herself from it, he seemed to need to hold on to its threads. She had tried to ignore it, tried to pretend it wasn't there. For a few years, she actually succeeded, thriving on the heat and the intensity of what they had. Intensity wasn't always a good thing, however, and when things got bad, they got really bad.

Not that she had ever feared for her life - when it came down to it, she had no doubt she could take him; but she feared for her soul. The longer she stayed with Spike, the harder it was to keep herself from being sucked back in to that deep, black hole. She still hadn't been able to break things off, although subconsciously, she later realized, that was probably why she decided to move to L.A. for good - knowing that being with Angel, even if it wasn't with Angel, would be the final straw for Spike. Making the decision without ever having to actually face it. Taking the easy way out.

She had been living at Angel's hotel for almost six months when the break-up finally came. An awful break-up, mostly because of its lack of awfulness - no fireworks, no tears, no passion. Just an incredibly civil conversation ending with Spike saying, 'Call me when you figure it out, luv. If you figure it out.'

And she really tried to figure it out, what exactly was wrong with her. Why she couldn't make it work, not even with Spike, after all they had been through. Angel left because what they had was too dangerous. Riley left because he had needed more than she was able - willing? - to give. But with Spike - the second time at least - she tried to do everything right. And even that wasn't enough.

It was Angel who, in one particularly long, brutal talk at his kitchen table, had pointed out that maybe that was the whole problem - that she had been trying so hard. That maybe deep down she had been trying to find something that wasn't there. And maybe the reason she had stayed with Spike so long was that she was afraid to admit she'd made a mistake. That she was hoping to find with Spike the kind of relationship she'd had with Riley, something with steadiness and trust and normalcy; something with a future. Or maybe she really did want what Spike offered, but was still fighting it and driving him away out of some kind of guilt. Either way, she was going to have to make up her mind what exactly she was looking for because otherwise she'd never find it and may as well just give up now.   

Gee, Angel, thanks, she remembered thinking. As upset as she had been, though, she knew he was right. She had absolutely no idea of what she wanted. The exhilaration and passion and unpredictability of Spike? Or the warmth and generosity and kindness that Riley had given her?

Or could it just possibly be that she still wanted Angel, who had been a part of her life for so long? Who had been the standard by which she judged every other man since she was fifteen. Who was sitting right in front of her, looking at her with those eyes burning into her...

Too much. Too overwhelming. She had gotten up to leave only to turn and have him right behind her. Taking her into his arms and making love to her with his hands and mouth and finally, coming inside her, kissing away her tears because they both knew that this would never happen again. That the time for pure happiness was long gone, clouded with the reality of time and history. Finally acknowledging that this love was no longer meant to be.

'Well, that answers that,' he had said with a sad laugh, reaching to turn off the bedside lamp. And later, after it was clear that neither of them would be able to sleep that night, 'So, I know the deal with Spike, but what really happened with Riley? Why don't you ever talk about it?'

She had shaken her head. 'It's a long story.'

'We have time.'

And ironically, lying there in Angel's bed she had finally been able to bare her soul, letting all of it out - the anger at Riley's betrayal, the shock and hurt she felt in her gut when she thought of him with that woman - vampire - in his arms. The shame and sorrow when she realized she had driven him there, and the ache that she still felt when she thought of the way his arms felt around her; when she knew it was something she would never feel again. Everything she hadn't been able to tell Willow or Dawn or Xander or Giles. Only then had the healing begun. Six months earlier she had broken free of her life as a Slayer, but it wasn't until that night that she had been reborn.

Unsurprisingly, things with Angel were never the same after that night. The surprising part, though, was that things became less awkward. The unreleased tension that had defined their relationship for so many years had suddenly morphed into something much more comfortable - student and teacher, patient and healer. Soul mates but not lovers.

Over the years he had taught her so much about where she came from and where she was going, as she did for him. And in doing so, they had both realized that for that one period in time their paths had crossed, but ever since then they'd been heading in different directions. His role now was one of redemption whereas hers was one of reward.

She had always joked that they could just stay in limbo and live happily ever after in an unfulfilled sort of way. They both knew, however, that eventually it wouldn't be enough. That eventually someone or something would pull them apart. And that whatever it was would be something worth moving towards, even though a part of her would always regret what it was she was leaving behind.

Maybe someday she'd be able to explain all that to Riley, but for now 'complicated' was the best she could do.

There had been something else, though, that had come out of all those years with Angel. Something that she hadn't realized was happening over the course of countless hours of conversation but that had happened nonetheless: a vision of the future. A confidence that if this wasn't the path she was meant to take - if she'd used up all her chances at love - then she'd be o.k. with that. But also that if there was something still out there for her, she'd know it when she saw it.

She turned to look at Riley in the seat next to her. "He helped me figure out what I wanted."

"Which is?" Riley asked, glancing at her, obviously surprised when she finally spoke.

"This," she replied. "Us." She squeezed his hand. Looking away from him she continued, "It just never occurred to me that it might actually be with you."

Riley was glad they had reached the exit for her house, glad that it was only a couple more miles after the highway, because he needed to be touching her, feeling her. To be completely engulfed by her. Anything to prove that she wasn't some apparition sent here to play with his mind, torturing him by saying all the right things, telling him things that he hadn't even dared to dream about.

Pulling to a stop on the street in front of her house, he turned to her, only to find that she was already out of her seat, not even bothering to wait for him to turn off the ignition before she was kissing him. There was nothing gentle about her touch - fueled by raw hunger, she was pulling at him, at his clothes, not meeting any resistance because he wanted her just as badly.

His hands on her hips, he lifted her until she was straddling his legs. One of the nice things about being so tall - there was plenty of room for her between him and the steering wheel.

As she pressed her body to his, she said, "I knew I should have worn a skirt." She pushed against him, making him groan. "Just imagine what we could already be doing."

He leaned his head back, smiling as her mouth went to his neck. "Guess I should start carrying condoms around with me. I don't think I need any more kids."

She pulled away and sat back abruptly. "You don't want more kids?"

"You do?" he asked, completely surprised.

"Well, yeah." She slid off his lap and back into her seat. "I think so."

"Since when?" Riley asked, sitting back against the door.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "A while now. But it seemed pretty much out of the question until, well, yesterday."

"Yesterday," he said flatly. "When you saw me."

She nodded. "Why does that seem so strange?"

He looked away. Sitting here, talking to the woman he would have given his life for - would have married without a second thought if she had given any indication that she had any interest whatsoever - and she was asking why it seemed strange that now, sixteen years later, she was suddenly talking about bearing his children. Of which he already had four, by the way.

"Why does that seem so strange?" he asked, probably more curtly than was justified.

"Don't repeat the question," she said, exasperated. "What are you thinking?"

"What am I thinking?" Was she serious? "Sorry," he said when he realized he had done it again. "I just... God. I don't know. You just... You surprised me."

Which was as much of an answer as he was going to give because he didn't even want to contemplate more years of sleepless nights, potty training, and, God forbid, the Wiggles, not to mention dealing with adolescence when he was old enough to be getting senior citizen discounts.

Oh right, and the thing about them just getting back together - yesterday .

"Apparently." She seemed not at all concerned with his reaction. "So - what do you think?"

"Buffy," he said, trying to get his mind around this. "Before last night I hadn't even..." He looked at her sitting there. How on earth was this happening?

She smiled. "Were you this eloquent with Sam?"

Maddening. She was absolutely maddening. He looked away again. "Sam and I never actually talked about it. Not the first time at least. It just sort of happened."

"In Nepal," she offered, not at all helpfully.

Riley looked up sharply. "You think maybe we could stick to one big thing at a time?"

"Why was Nepal a big thing?" Her eyes were the perfect picture of innocence.

His turn to be exasperated. "Why was Nepal a big thing?"

"You're doing it again."

He rolled down the window. It was suddenly getting very warm. Not in a good way.    

"Why was Nepal a big thing," he said again, although more to himself. The next part, however, was all for her. "Because seeing you in Sunnydale wasn't exactly the best thing for my marriage. Because Sam decided she wasn't going to let it bother her. Because if either one of us had been thinking right and not so concerned about what was happening to us, we would have realized that she had missed her pills for three days straight and she was going to get pregnant before we were ready."

O.k. So maybe that hadn't all been completely necessary. Certainly not in the harsh tone it came out in.

"Oh," Buffy said quietly. And then, "Wasn't that kind of risky what with being in the jungle and all? I mean, you have to take them at the same time every day or else they don't work and I'd think it would be kind of hard to stick to a..." Her voice trailed off as she realized Riley was glaring at her.

"Thanks for the tip," he snapped. "Any other birth control advice?"

"Sorry." So maybe that hadn't been the most helpful thing to say. She looked out the window and said, "The twins weren't planned?"

"No. And why exactly are we talking about this?"

That wasn't snapping, she thought; that was him actually mad.

Buffy hadn't really planned to have this conversation. If she'd planned it, however, this wouldn't have been going the way she might have expected. "Because you said you didn't want any more kids."

"I didn't say... I never said I didn't want more, I just hadn't really thought about it." His voice was a lot less heated than it had been only moments before. "It's not something I ever expected to be thinking about again. I..." He sat back against the seat and looked at her. "Kids change everything. Are you sure that's what you want?"

So not the conversation she'd expected to have.

She took a deep breath. Nothing like laying it all out on the line. "I want a family some day. I know that. And I'm not getting any younger, so if it's going to happen, it needs to happen soon."

His eyes got really cold - and not in a yummy frozen latte kind of way. "Well then I guess it's pretty lucky that you ran into me yesterday because otherwise you'd have to actually invest some time and energy into a relationship with someone who wasn't a vampire."

Buffy recoiled from the bitterness in his tone. "You think I saw you and said, 'Oh, goody, now I can cancel that appointment at the sperm bank'?" She folded her arms across her chest. "Trust me, I've had plenty of men who would have been happy to donate their services over the last few years."

Speaking of bitter, that had come out a lot more snarkily than she'd intended. And he seemed about to respond in kind when he suddenly snapped his mouth shut and looked out the window.

After a minute, he quietly said, "That's not what I meant."

She sighed. "I know. I'm sorry." Reaching across the seat, she held out her hand. "You meant that this just all seems too easy. Like we got caught in someone else's fairy tale and any minute now the curtain's going to come crashing down on our heads. I keep thinking that, too."

Turning back to her, it was obvious he wasn't quite willing to give in. Still, he took her hand.

Relieved, she leaned forward. "I've spent my whole life worrying about that curtain. I'm tired of it. Maybe this isn't going to work and your kids will hate me or we'll decide that we don't even like each other any more. And I know it's only been a day, but still, I feel like someone up there finally decided that I get to have a dream come true at least once in my lifetime."

He still didn't seem totally convinced, but the look in his eyes had softened. That was a good sign at least. And she certainly didn't feel this was a discussion they needed to have yet. She hadn't exactly intended to bring it up; it was just that she'd been caught off guard by his not-wanting-any-more-kids comment.

"Look, I know this is a little premature," she continued. "Anyway, after watching Anya go through it twice; and hearing about how not thrilled Sam was to be pregnant-"

"Wow. Sarah must really like you," Riley said, a smile escaping. "She's usually the one asking the questions, not answering them." He looked out the window again. "She said Sam didn't like being pregnant?"

"Well, not exactly," Buffy replied. "More that Sam seemed to be angry a lot. Mostly at you and Graham." Was he-? Was he laughing? "I take it Sarah got it wrong?"

"No." Riley shook his head, still smiling. "Not wrong. Just not exactly right, either."

Sam had definitely spent the better part of all three pregnancies pissed off, but not because she didn't like being pregnant - she had actually loved it. More than she had expected. It was just the part where the doctors decided she was high risk and told her they'd put her on bed rest for six months if she even tried to do anything physical, including sex, something Sam happened to be particularly fond of.

And Sam did not take kindly to being denied anything - not by the doctors who ordered her to slow down; not by Graham who ordered her to listen to the doctors; and especially not by Riley who refused to go against any of them.

"She just wasn't someone who liked to follow orders," he said, looking back at Buffy. "Sound like anyone you know?"

"I can follow orders," she protested. "I gave you the phone tonight when Angel said he wanted to talk to you."

"Right. And I'm sure you did that because he told you to and not because he was annoying you in any way." Which, o.k., had been kind of gratifying, Riley had to admit.

"Maybe that wasn't the best example," she mumbled. "But that's different."

"Yes, it's different. That was a phone call; this is everything: what you can eat, when you need to sleep, if you can even, um...train." He pulled his hand away, thinking of how relieved he'd been when Jack hit the age where he no longer needed Riley's help for every little thing.

Except it had been kind of sad, too -- knowing that he'd heard his baby's belly laugh for the last time; that the days of lurching first steps and undecipherable first words were over.

Buffy leaned across the seat again, getting up on her knees so that she could look him in the eye. Brushing her hand through his hair, she said, "You loved every single minute of it, didn't you?"

He glanced away and smiled. She was absolutely right. The love and awe he felt for Sam as she carried new life inside her. The utterly trusting look in a newborn's eyes. Even the cries of an infant communicating in the only way possible. Some of the diapers he probably could have done without, but still... "Yeah. I guess I did. But teenagers are a whole other-"

"You are such a big sap." She leaned in and kissed him. "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have a family with."

He put his arms around her, hugging her tightly as her lips moved from his mouth to his neck. He wasn't quite ready to concede, but, hell, he had always wanted a big family. If Sam had truly been willing to have another kid, he wouldn't have said no. "Is there a timeline I should know about here? Some master plan?"

"No big plan, just something to think about," she mumbled between kisses. "Mmmm... Is that a cell phone vibrating in your pocket or are you really happy to see me?"

Laughing, he tried to reach his pocket, finally resorting to physically removing her from his lap so he could get it. "Finn." He batted away her hand, unsuccessfully trying to glare at her. "Liam. Hey - the prodigal son. So you blew us off for a night dive, huh? ... No, it's not too late - I was up."