“Oh my God,” Buffy said as they came out of the Arlington Street station. “There’s, like, a million people. I didn’t think this many people lived here.”

Dawn didn’t hear her. She was busy yelling at Eddie. “You said that we’d be here in plenty of time. Now we’re not even going to get a spot.”

“We did have plenty of time. But then you insisted on showing Buffy Fenway Park and getting a beer. Those things take time.”

“Well, she had to see Fenway-”

“And God forbid we show it to her tomorrow,” he muttered.

“-and I wanted her to see where we met,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Especially since it took us three weeks to get her to leave her house.”

“Hello – still standing here,” Buffy said. “I can hear everything you’re saying.”

“I wasn’t saying anything bad,” Dawn said. “That three week thing is a fact.”

“I’m settling in,” Buffy responded weakly. She started to make her way through the crowd leaving Dawn and Eddie no choice but to follow her. “Is there a place we can get snacks? I’m hungry.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “There’s a drugstore right before the Esplanade. We can stock up there.”

Buffy walked in silence. Everything about Boston seemed completely foreign to her. She’d visited Dawn plenty of times at Tufts, and then Harvard, and she had fallen in love with the area several times over, but she couldn’t imagine it ever feeling like home. Nothing had seemed like home since Dawn left for college. After years of fighting it, Buffy had finally decided to follow Dawn to the East Coast thinking that might ease the loneliness. So far, not so good.

“What are you thinking?” Dawn asked quietly as they walked down Charles Street toward the river.

Oh, just that this might have been the biggest mistake ever – moving across the country in hopes that it would somehow help her feel less lost and alone. There was no way, however, that she would actually say that; not with that insecure, defensive look in Dawn’s eyes, the look that Dawn had perfected in high school. It had mostly disappeared but it still resurfaced every now and then.

Buffy smiled and linked arms with Dawn. “I was thinking what a beautiful city this is,” she said as they walked down the street. “You’ll have to show me around when we have a little more time. I wouldn’t mind coming back to some of these antiques stores.”

That seemed to placate Dawn. She was quiet as they walked the rest of the way, reaching the drugstore a few minutes later.

Eddie opened the door for Dawn and Buffy. “After you.”

Buffy made her way to the back of the store and grabbed a few bottles of water and some Cokes out of the cooler. Turning around, she saw a couple of teenagers filling up cups with ice and colored syrup. The girl was striking. Fourteen or fifteen with honey colored hair and gorgeous almond eyes. Almost as tall as the boy she was with, a good six inches taller than Buffy. There was something oddly familiar about her, although Buffy couldn’t for the life of her figure out what.

The girl looked up as Buffy was staring. Giving her a self-conscious smile, Buffy turned away quickly. She started up the aisle she thought Dawn was in.

Dawn wasn’t there, but an un-Godly number of candy bars were – which, you know, always good. Buffy bent down for a package of bite-sized Snickers. She came up quickly, whirling around as she sensed someone behind her.

Hot pink ice went flying everywhere, as did the water and Coke Buffy was carrying, which wouldn’t have been too bad if one of the cans hadn’t burst open, sending soda flying everywhere.

“Pretty,” Buffy muttered as the brown liquid started to mix with the ice on the floor. “And very sticky.” She accepted the napkins being offered to her from an outstretched hand. An outstretched hand presumably connected to the body she had knocked into, a body in such close proximity that a collision had been unavoidable.

Big, solid, muscular body, by the way.

Not that that did much to lessen her irritation. She purposefully didn’t look up right away, knowing that it was an accident and this person had no intention of spilling everything all over her and the floor. Therefore it would do absolutely no good to say something like, 'Haven’t you ever heard of personal space?' Not until she could say it with a smile at least.

“I’m so sorry,” she heard the man say in a tone that seemed genuinely apologetic, as it should. It continued as she slowly straightened up. “You look like someone I...”

His voice cut off abruptly.

She raised her head, and...

No.

Um... No.

This couldn’t be real, she thought, backing away and looking into eyes that she hadn’t seen in fifteen years. She stared at him, his face so familiar despite the lines around his eyes and mouth. His hair was beginning to gray in that distinguished way that men’s hair did. Arms and chest and shoulders had lost none of their definition in the time that had passed, nor had they lost their ability to stir something deep within her. Something that hadn’t been stirred in a very long time.

“That’s… It’s not…” she stammered. Not possible, she meant. Beyond that, she was unable to form a coherent thought.

Well, except that Riley seemed to be right there with her, also totally incapable of speech.

“Dad, please tell me you did not make this mess.”

Buffy looked past Riley to see the ice-and-syrup girl coming down the aisle. A girl who called Riley, ‘Dad.’ A girl who was Riley’s daughter.

Um... And again with the no.

Buffy’s eyes moved slowly back to Riley as the girl grabbed one of the bottles of water off the floor and opened it, pouring water onto a napkin that she used to mop up the pink ice dripping down Riley’s arm. She poured more water on another napkin and turned to Buffy. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. If you put water on it right away it won’t be too bad.”

Staring at the napkin the girl held out, Buffy realized she should take it, because, well...

Buffy reached for the napkin and made a sorry attempt to wash off her sweatshirt, dabbing at it blindly. She finally just gave up and stuffed the napkin in her pocket. After all, she’d had much fouler smelling things on her clothes. This barely rated.

She looked back up at Riley and noticed the girl take a protective step in front of him, clearly uncomfortable. Probably because she’d realized that Buffy was the woman who’d just been staring at her a few minutes before. Or maybe because Buffy – with her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide with disbelief – currently looked like someone who should be institutionalized in a secure facility somewhere.

Way to make an impression on Riley’s kid. Nice, Buff.

Now that Buffy saw them together, the resemblance between daughter and dad was obvious. As if that weren’t enough, it appeared that the babble-when-uncomfortable gene was hereditary: “My Dad can be a little klutzy. He goes all spacey on us. It started when my Mom died...”

Buffy looked up sharply at Riley to see a shadow pass over his face. He blinked slowly, then turned away.

Please don’t, Buffy wanted to say. Please just let me see you.

The urge to reach out to him was overwhelming. If it weren’t for his daughter...

God. Riley had a daughter. Who was still speaking. Buffy forced herself to concentrate on what the girl was still saying. Like the part about her mom - about Sam, Buffy presumed - dying.

“...doesn’t happen as much lately, but he still does dumb things sometimes. He’s really sorry and he’ll pay for you to clean your shirt or get a new one or…”

Riley’s hand went to the girl’s shoulder. Riley’s ringless, unremarried hand. He cut her off with an, “It’s o.k., honey.” His voice trailed off as his eyes met Buffy’s again.

Luckily, Dawn chose that moment to appear. “What happened?” She came towards Buffy, not even glancing at Riley, whose back was to her as she walked by. Gingerly stepping around the mess on the floor, she put her hand on Buffy’s arm. “Are you o.k.?” She sounded concerned.

“I…” Buffy looked at Dawn and then back at Riley, feeling oddly as though she were stuck in slow motion. At least her voice seemed to be returning. “I’m so sorry. About Sam. I…”

No. Voice fails again.

That, however, seemed to be a clue to Dawn that all was not as it appeared. After a puzzled look at Buffy, Dawn turned slowly to look behind her.

There was a second of silence, and then an, “Oh my God,” followed quickly by a yelped, “Holy shit!” A huge smile appeared on Dawn’s face. “Riley? Riley Finn?” She crossed to him, not bothering to avoid the mess this time, and threw her arms around him.

For a moment, Riley didn’t react – his gaze was still locked on Buffy, as hers was locked on him. Then, after a jab from the daughter who was obviously not missing a thing, he returned Dawn’s hug, his eyes closing as he murmured, “Dawn. God... Dawn.”

“Dad?” the girl asked tentatively, looking from Riley to Dawn to Buffy and back to Riley again.

Her voice pulled him out of the daze that Buffy was still stuck in. Buffy watched as he let go of Dawn and pulled his daughter to him, kissing the top of her head. Under ordinary circumstances, Buffy had a feeling that might not have been well received – the girl was a teenager, after all. However, these were not ordinary circumstances. You didn’t have to know why to realize as much.

Though Riley’s words were directed to his daughter, he looked up at Buffy as he spoke. “Annie, this is Dawn.”

Annie. His daughter’s name was Annie. His daughter with Sam.

Riley had turned his attention back to Annie and Dawn. He was saying, “Dawn was about your age when I met her. It’s thanks to her that I have even a minimal understanding of what’s going through your head these days.”

Annie held her hand out to Dawn. The introduction seemed to make her more comfortable – normalcy superseding this odd little moment. There was even a warm smile on her face when she turned to Buffy.

It wasn’t echoed by Riley. He still just seemed stunned. “And this...” His voice cracked a bit, and he had to take a breath before he continued. “...Is Buffy. Someone I...” Another breath. “Someone I knew a very long time ago.”

“Before Mom?” Annie asked quietly. No – not missing one thing.

Riley looked down. “Yeah,” he answered softly. “Before Mom.”

Buffy looked at Riley and then at his daughter standing in front of him. “This is…” She was glad she was standing far enough away that she didn’t need to shake Annie’s hand – not because she didn’t want to, but because it seemed a physical impossibility to move. The best she could do at the moment was to wipe the tears from her cheeks – the ones that had appeared from out of nowhere and for no plausible reason.

“Sorry,” she said, glancing away. “This is so much harder than it seems it should be.”

Dawn again stepped in. “Annie – you’ll have to excuse my sister. She just moved here and she still hasn’t managed to get herself together. Maybe we should go find a mop so we can clean this mess up.” Dawn put her arm around the girl and led her towards the front of the store, glancing back at Buffy before leaving the aisle.

Buffy watched them go. She turned back to Riley. “You have a daughter.”

Geez, Buff. That’s the exact perfect thing to say to someone you haven’t seen in over fifteen years.

Um... “You have a beautiful, stunning daughter.”

Buffy closed her eyes. Oh – so much better. Not that compliments were a bad thing, just, well, it had been a hell of a long time since she had seen him last and that was all she could come up with? Smooth.

Riley didn’t seem to mind, however. He obviously didn’t have anything better to say. He just grinned. “Two, actually.”

“Two?” Buffy looked up the aisle. “You have two daughters?”

He nodded. “Twins. Annie and Kate.”

Turning back to Riley, Buffy said, “Any sons?” Well, why not – it was working so far.

Another smile – God, how she had missed that smile – as Riley answered, “Liam and Jack.”

“You have four kids?” She tried to keep the surprise out of her voice. It was just... Four. That was a lot of kids. “How old?”

Nodding in the direction Annie had gone, Riley said, “The girls are fourteen; the boys eleven and nine.”

“Annie, Kate, Liam and Jack,” Buffy repeated, since her brain still seemed to be on standby.

“Yep.” He glanced away. Not for long, though; his eyes came back to hers quickly. “And you? Are you married? Any kids?”

“No and no,” she replied, wondering if his smile got a little wider at her answer or if that had just been her imagination.

There was a heavy silence as he looked away, and there was absolutely nothing Buffy could think of to fill it. Nothing except, “Do you think this would be less awkward if you hugged me right now?” She took a step toward him.

Not that it was necessary – by the time the words left her mouth he had closed the distance between them and pulled her close. Her arms tightened around him and she squeezed her eyes shut. This felt good – much too good.

Apparently for him, too. He let go, saying, “No, it appears that hugging you may, in fact, be more awkward.”

“Riley.” She grabbed his hand as he pulled away, finding that it was hard to let go.

He looked down at their hands, waiting for her to say whatever it was she was going to say. “Yeah?” he asked softly.

Trying to come up with a good answer, she ended up with, “Nothing.” It was just – “I like saying your name and having you be right here.” Because, well, it was true.

The smile he’d been wearing on his face finally reached his eyes. It seemed like he was about to say something, but then he changed his mind and reached out for her instead, letting the back of his hand run lightly across her cheek, letting his fingers brush back her hair.

Oh... That was, um...nice.

Her arms went around him again as she leaned her head against his chest – listening to his heart beat. Hearing his breath catch as her grip tightened.

Without any conscious thought, her chin tilted up, and – even as she told herself that this was such a bad idea – she could only focus on his mouth. On how close it was to hers; on how sweet it would taste.

Not that it meant anything whatsoever. Just a kiss between old friends; just a hug between old lov-

“Dad,” a voice said, and Riley’s body tensed suddenly as he let go.

Buffy straightened up. In a split second, the temperature dropped about ten degrees and Riley transformed back into the father of a fourteen-year-old girl – a fourteen-year-old girl who was just clearing the corner and walking down the aisle.

“Dad,” Annie said, “we got the manager. He said he’d have someone clean everything up and we’d just have to pay for what spilled. Can we go now? Everything’s starting to melt.”

“Um, yeah,” Riley answered gruffly. He cleared the huskiness out of his throat and started over. “I just need to get a couple more for me and... Uh...”

“Ben’s mom?” Annie folded her arms in front of her chest as a smirk came to her lips. “Jean?”

After a quick glance at Buffy, Riley looked down. “Right. Jean.” He started to walk away and then turned back, asking Buffy, “Are you here with anyone?”

Well, duh. “Dawn.”

Riley’s look clearly conveyed that he was not an idiot and that Dawn’s presence had, in fact, been noted. “I meant, are you and Dawn here with someone. If you don’t have a place on the grass already, it’s... It’s already crowded.”

Oh. “No, I don’t think so.” Buffy followed Riley to the counter where the slushies were made. “Not unless Eddie’s got us meeting someone.”

“Eddie?” Riley asked as he filled a couple of cups with ice.

She nodded. “Dawn’s fiancé.”

“Fiancé?” he said, smiling. He held an empty cup out. “Slushie?”

“Um, no. Thanks.” She held up the bottles of water that she had retrieved from the floor. “I take my water without the food coloring.”

They walked to the counter where the rest of their respective groups were waiting and everyone else was introduced. They paid for the various items, spilled and unspilled, and after coaxing the manager into giving them a box in which to carry everything, they left the store.

Buffy was amazed at how natural it was to fall into step, their arms almost touching, but not quite. Deliberately not quite.

“So,” Riley said to Dawn and Eddie, “I was telling Buffy – we have some room on our blanket if you guys don’t already have a place staked out.”

Dawn didn’t even hesitate. “That sounds great.” She looked at Buffy. “Absolutely great.”

Eddie just shrugged. “If they’re happy, I’m happy.”

Riley grinned. “Smart man.”

He seemed to be concentrating very hard on carrying the box of slushies through the crowd as he asked Dawn and Eddie about the wedding. That was fine with Buffy – she was happy to just stare for a few minutes, watching the easy smile come to his face, watching the way the shirt hung in a way that perfectly emphasized his shoulders, watching his hands and remembering how he used to-

She suddenly realized that she wasn’t only doing the watching - she was also the watchee, the object of Annie’s eyes. Staring time over. Think chaste thoughts, Buffy. Think nothing about what those hands used to do.

Ten minutes later, they approached a blanket surrounded by pink flamingos. “Pink flamingos?” Buffy asked. A woman – much too pretty for Buffy’s taste – sat there with two kids: a girl who didn’t seem to be Annie’s twin, and a boy who, actually, could have been Graham’s.

Annie rolled her eyes. “Uncle Graham thinks he’s so funny.”

Uncle Graham. This was absolutely surreal.

“Uncle Graham has a sense of humor?” Buffy asked Riley.

“You’d be surprised.” Riley returned her smile. He handed the box to Charlie, saying, “Earn your keep, kid.”

“I saw that,” he added, when Dawn rolled her eyes. He pulled out two bright pink slushies and handed one to the woman on the blanket – the aforementioned Jean, it turned out – as he made introductions.

“I think you’ll be o.k. now, Ms. Goldsmith,” the boy said as he and the girl got up and followed Annie and Charlie to a blanket not too far away. A blanket on which another boy and girl sat, presumably Kate and Ben.

“Thanks,” Jean replied. To Riley she said, “There was encroachment.” She nodded at the two couples on the next blanket. “Josh and Beth took pity and set up my flamingo force-field. You’d think my own son would have come to the rescue, but, no – Ben’s still trying to pretend I’m not here.” She smiled.

Jean moved over so that there was enough room for everyone else on the blanket. Well, kind of. There was enough room for Dawn and Eddie to sit on top of each other, which they seemed to happily do. That left about an inch of space between Riley and Dawn for Buffy to squeeze in to.

Ordinarily, Buffy would have been happy to take advantage of the opportunity. Now, however, didn’t seem the time; not with his date sitting right next to him. Oh, right, and with the way Annie and – yes, it had to be Kate – were sitting on the other blanket, their heads together as they whispered feverishly and looked back at Riley.

Buffy sat down hesitantly, trying to take up as little space as possible. “Is Josh Graham’s?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Spitting image, huh?”

She nodded and inched as close as she could to Dawn. There was so little room that it was almost impossible not to touch him, and every time she did so – when she unintentionally jabbed his arm with her elbow; when her thigh happened to brush against his leg – she found herself thinking incredibly inappropriate things about a man with four children.

Plus there was that whole thing about Jean. Oddly enough, however, the other woman didn’t seem at all put out, the way Buffy most certainly would have if her date had just come back from a store with an ex-girlfriend, not to mention the ex-girlfriend's sister and brother-in-law-to-be.

“Does Graham have any more kids?” Buffy asked, still sticking with the innocuous family topic that had worked so well back at the store.

“Mitch is Liam’s age – eleven. And the baby’s three. Her name is Sam.” Riley’s lips had turned pink from the slushie.

Don’t look at his lips. “They’re still babies at three?”

“If they’re the youngest, they’re still babies at fifteen,” Jean said, standing up. “I’m going to take a walk before the fireworks start.”

So much for the not-put-out thing. If that wasn’t a signal for Riley to pay attention, Buffy wasn’t sure what would be.

Except that when Riley started to get up, Jean held her hand out. “No.” She smiled. “Stay. I can manage on my own.”

“You sure?” Riley said. “They’re probably going to start soon.”

Jean was already walking away. “I’m sure. Besides, the kids would be mortified if we actually walked anywhere together.”

Well, um, thanks.

“Sorry – we’ve ruined your date.” Buffy said as Riley settled back down on the blanket. Or, actually, as he moved to almost the complete other end of the blanket, seemingly wanting to keep his distance.

Riley grinned. “Not really a date. A total set up by Graham’s wife. Sarah’s been trying to marry me off for the last five years.”

Buffy tried not to read anything into that. Especially not anything like: if Graham’s wife was still trying after five years then that meant she’d been completely unsuccessful. Good.

No. Not good. What is your problem, Buffy? Why, exactly, would that matter? “Still,” Buffy said, “you came here together.”

The grin didn’t leave his face. In fact, it seemed more like he was trying not to laugh. He looked up in the direction Jean had gone. “I’m pretty sure it’s o.k. We’ve already figured out we’re not meant to be.” Leaning back in towards Buffy, he added, “Just don’t tell Sarah.”

Buffy smiled. No problem. “So Graham’s here in Boston, too?”

Riley nodded. “They live in Needham – right outside the city. Been here almost nine years.”

“And you?” Buffy asked. “How long have you lived here?”

The shadow returned to his face. “Eleven.”

He seemed relieved that the orchestra started right then, accompanied by booming fireworks that were impossible to talk over. When Jean came back twenty minutes later, he moved back in such a way that made it very easy to keep from touching him - he’d managed to find the one place on the blanket that put him completely out of reach.

Jean didn’t seem to notice that the seating arrangement had changed. She just sank down next to Buffy and handed her a cardboard tray of hot dogs. “Turns out my daughter’s boyfriend was running the stand,” she shouted over the noise. “I got to cut the whole line.”

“Thanks,” Buffy said, passing the tray along to Dawn and Eddie. She deliberately didn’t look back at Riley as she ate; she was having a hard enough time getting a grasp on this situation without actually seeing his face.

Of course, once she finished, she couldn’t help but steal a glance back at him. Her heart leapt to her throat when she saw that he was watching her. She knew her face lit up the second she saw him smile slowly. He seemed to laugh to himself as he looked away.

Honestly? She felt kind of giddy herself.

Unreal.