When he woke up, she was sitting in the bed, leaning against the headboard with her legs stretched out in front of her, her hair wet from the shower. Smiling, she put down what she had been reading.

"What time is it?" he asked, looking at the shadows on the building across the street.

"A little after six." She leaned over to give him a proper waking up kiss. "We have dinner reservations at seven so you can sleep some more if you want."

"Anything interesting?" He nodded at the papers on the bed as he sat up.

"Transcripts," she said, reaching for the pile again. "The ones you guys sent over. There's really not that much to go on, is there?"

He shook his head.

Well, of course he would. As he'd mentioned before, they'd been through everything about a billion times and still had no clue as to how the men had died or where to begin looking for the missing hikers.

"What do these notes say?" She pointed to something scribbled in the margin, something that was about as legible to her as Willow's Sumerian texts.

Riley glanced at the handwriting. "Graham thinks that something's missing from the interviews. One of the policeman said they were turning the tape back on again."

'Back on again.' Which meant that it had been off, but someone mentioned something important enough to make them want to record again. "Was that the interview with...?" She shuffled through the papers, trying to find the right one.

"Leslie Willett," Riley answered. "Her boyfriend is one of the ones who disappeared."

Buffy let the papers drop to the floor. Riley was up. No need to be overdoing the work thing.

Except for maybe one more question. "You think it was important?"

He shrugged. "We're grasping at straws, but that's all there seems to be in this case."

She moved over into his lap, thinking he might not mind the feel of smooth silk against his skin or, for that matter, her nuzzling his neck. "Have you talked to the girlfriend?"

"She hasn't returned our calls." Riley closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard. "We're planning on trying to catch her at home tomorrow night after the meeting's over."

She mumbled, "Why didn't you just ask the policemen who were doing the interviews?"

His hands started roaming, running down her legs as he answered, "We haven't been allowed to talk to them yet."

"Because of Jessica Cain?" Buffy hadn't met her client yet, but neither Riley nor Angel had had anything good to say about her.

"Has to be," Riley said curtly, tensing and pulling away. "I don't think anyone else would care that much."

Buffy sat back and looked at Riley. Wow. He really didn't like her. "Do you think she's hiding something?"

"No," he snapped. "I think she's being a bitch."

"Oh," she said, a bit taken aback. She didn't think she had ever heard Riley say that about anyone. Even Spike had only been an 'idiot.' And an 'ass-face,' although that was secondhand. "Is she really that bad?"

"Yes." He gave Buffy a quick kiss before shifting her off his lap and getting out of bed. "I'm taking a shower."

Um, o.k.

Buffy watched as he crossed the room and went into the bathroom. She had to remind herself that there were so many things about him that she no longer knew. Or hadn't gotten to know yet. It had only been a week, after all. A week. He had been back in her life again for only a week. Before Tuesday, it had been fifteen years since she'd seen him last. It was just that in some ways it felt like no time had passed.

That last night together - the night before he left Sunnydale for the first time - was still so vivid. She had tried to block out the twenty-four hours that had followed; tried to focus instead on the good things. That seemingly perfect night: looking into his eyes and thinking that she could happily stay in his arms forever. Writing off his vague distraction as concern for her mother. Ignoring the way he had flinched when she touched his arm; turned so she wouldn't kiss his neck -- which she now realized was because he'd been bitten there. She hadn't noticed that scar until the other night. If she'd noticed it then...

No. She probably would have come up with some reason to explain it away. It was Riley. He wouldn't do something like that. She'd expected that things would be fine in a few days, once everything was back to normal.

Yeah, right. What was that they said about denial?

And now, after being with him this past week... So much about him was what she remembered, what she had loved. A lot was different, though, too. He was damaged. Flawed. Not even close to the unblemished man she had first met. Harder than he had been. Softer, too.

She had been in love with him then; as much as she could be at the time. But she had been so naïve. Yes, he'd made her happy, and yes, she'd seen a future with him, one she had happily looked forward to. There had always been that part of her, though, that thought what she'd had with Angel could never be surpassed. That forbidden kisses could sustain her for a lifetime. Of course, when a lifetime had been defined as twenty, twenty-five years, max, maybe it would have been enough.

At thirty-, um, something, things looked different. To find someone who made her feel young again, but could make the phrase "growing old together" be a gift rather than a life sentence. Someone who made her feel like the world was a wonderful place, despite all the horrible things she had seen. Plus, human - bonus. Riley knew all of her weaknesses - knew her at her worst, and yet he still loved her. Still wanted to be with her.

He thought his scars were a sign of weakness, telegraphed by the faded white lines intersecting with angry red marks. He couldn't be more wrong -- she saw them as the marks of a warrior, one whose entire life was written on his skin. Strength and courage of body and soul. Someone who had seen the darkness, but stayed in the light. Like her.

The scars had told her something else, though. That even with the desk job he was still out there risking his life. That just because he had made it this far didn't mean he would stay safe forever.

And yet she couldn't let it bother her the way it used to; couldn't let it scare her so much. Because if she did, those walls would go up and she would lose him. She couldn't go through that again.

To this day, those good times with Riley were some of the best she'd ever had - no worrying about the fate of the world with every kiss, or about the black cloud that was sure to descend. But they'd held back too much from each other; had each tried to protect the other from too many things. Doomed from day one by youth and good intentions.

This time around they were much more experienced -- in life and in love. Much more in sync when it came to needs and wants. And she was not one to squander second chances - her relationship with Angel was testament to that. Spike, Take Two, hadn't been quite so successful, though they'd given it a good try. Now it was Riley's turn, and she actually felt optimistic, not her usual state of affairs.

Content with how far she had come? Yes. Accepting her lot in life? Yes. But optimistic? Not until now.

So she could happily live with the friends who weren't quite so meddling, the mom who wasn't quite so disapproving, the kids who didn't exactly love her, although they didn't seem to hate her, either. And she would deal with the stolen nights and interrupted phone calls; with the way his life was. Because it wasn't any less complicated than it had been all those years ago, but it was still worth it. More now than it had been then.

She heard the water turn off; smiled as she lay back in the bed. Maybe they'd make it to dinner tonight; maybe they wouldn't. She honestly didn't care. He loved her. She loved him. And tonight, nothing else mattered.

THE END
To be continued in Butterfly Ops