Riley had just gotten out of the shower when he heard a knock on the bedroom door.

"Dad!" Kate called. "Are you awake? We're hungry!"

"Ten minutes!" He shaved quickly, threw some clothes on and made his way downstairs.

"How long did they date?" he heard Annie ask his mom as he approached the kitchen.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" she replied, clearly relieved when she saw Riley walk through the door.

"Everyone hungry?" Riley ruffled Jack's hair as he walked to the fridge. He started to pull out the stuff for breakfast, wishing Dawn hadn't mentioned the college girlfriend part the night before. "French toast, right?"

They all nodded and watched as he worked. It had become very quiet.

"A little over a year," he finally said, answering the question that was still hanging in the air.

"Did you love her?" Annie asked. She always had been the forthright one.

He looked over at the table. Their eyes were glued to him -- Annie's, Kate's, and Josh's. Jack was the only one not looking at Riley but instead at the game whirring and beeping in his hands. Riley glanced at his mom; she was pulling dishes out of the cabinet. She smiled encouragingly.

"Yes, I did," Riley answered.

"Did you want to marry her?" Annie again, apparently the spokesperson of the group.

"We were still in school then," he said. "It didn't really come up." Well, there was a non-answer if ever he saw one. Not a lie, but not entirely truth either. It seemed to satisfy the kids, though.

"But then you met Mom," Kate said. "And you married her instead."

"Right," he replied as he put slices of bread into the egg mixture, coming over to the table when he was finished. "I fell in love with your mom and we got married and ended up here." He sat down. "With all of you. I got everything I had ever wanted."

Annie asked, "When Mom died, did you wish you had married Buffy instead?"

"When your mom died, the only thing I wished for was for her to come back," he answered carefully. It was odd to be hearing these questions. Usually they asked about Sam and what she was like, not about how it had affected him.

Talking about Sam was actually easier.

"If you marry her now, can I call her Mom instead of Buffy?" Jack asked, his eyes still on his game. "Buffy's a kind of weird name." He looked up. "What?" he said, seeing the looks on his sisters' faces. "You guys got a mom, I never did."

Riley pulled Jack to him, fighting back tears. The heartbreaking part wasn't actually what Jack said, it was the matter-of-factness with which he said it. "It's a little early for that. But if you don't want to call her Buffy, I think that's probably o.k."

"Are you going to marry her?" Kate asked quietly, looking down at her hands as they rested on the table.

Riley reached over to her. "A little early for that, too. We need to get to know each other again first."

"But you're not ruling it out." Kate's voice was more defiant now. "Do we get any say in this?"

He sat back, releasing her hand. Jack -- very uncharacteristically -- didn't take the opportunity to squirm away, but instead sat there with Riley's arm still around his shoulder. "Not much," Riley said.

"Is she coming to our game today?" Annie asked.

Riley looked at Annie in surprise. "I didn't ask her. Do you want me to?"

Annie shrugged. "Well, shouldn't we at least get to know her better?"

He looked at Kate.

"I thought we didn't have any say in this," Kate said, crossing her arms.

Another response that needed careful consideration: "You don't have any say in whether I'm going to see her or not. That doesn't mean you have to, though. Not for now at least."

"If people are getting a say around here, can I say I don't want to watch them play soccer?" Jack asked, eyes back on his game.

"Who said we wanted you to come?" Annie replied.

Riley stood up, his eyes still on Kate as he walked back to the stove and turned it on. After a few minutes of Annie and Jack bickering, Kate finally joined in, seemingly back to her normal self. That had actually gone better than he had expected, at least for the first go 'round.

"See?" his mom said quietly as she brought a plate over for the finished French toast pieces. "They didn't bite."

"Only minimal scratching," he said.

She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. Taking the now full plate to the table she said, "O.k. Everyone gets one to start with. More are on their way."

For the rest of breakfast, conversation revolved around soccer games and weekend plans. Charlie's name came up several times and Riley was glad that Jack gave Annie a fair amount of trouble for having a boyfriend since Riley didn't feel like he was in a position to do so at the moment. He chose to think of it as delegation rather than dereliction of duty.

He was alone in the kitchen washing dishes when Kate came back into the room. Annie stood behind her in the doorway. Riley shut off the water and dried his hands; leaned back against the counter.

"It's o.k. if you want to ask her to the game," Kate said, hands in her pockets, eyes on the floor. "Dawn was nice. Her sister can't be that bad."

"You sure, Katie?" He hadn't called her that since she was a little girl. Wasn't sure why it slipped out now.

Kate nodded. "It doesn't mean I want her at every game, though. O.k.?"

"Deal," he said. Turning to Annie, he asked, "You have anything to add?"

She shook her head. "I liked her, Daddy. I don't mind if she's at the games."

Riley smiled. "O.k. then. I'll ask her if she can go." He moved back to the sink so he could finish washing up. "So what are you guys doing for the rest of the day?"

"Josh wants to buy sunglasses so Grandma said she'd take us to Newbury Street," Annie said. "Can I have some money? I need new sneakers."

"Grandma will take care of it. Tell her to put it on my tab." Riley turned the water back on. "What time do you need to be at the game?"

"Three-thirty," Kate answered.

He finished the last of the dishes and put them in the drainer. "I'll be home by three. Aunt Sarah invited us to dinner after the game so make sure you bring clean clothes to change into."

"Are you going to get in trouble for going in late and leaving early?" Annie asked.

"Nope -- already took care of it." He looked at his watch. "But I do have a meeting in twenty minutes, so I'd better get moving. Don't give Grandma too hard a time today."

Though Kate still wouldn't look him the eye, she let him give her a hug and a kiss. Annie walked him to the door.

"Don't worry about Kate, o.k., Daddy?"

He looked at her. Since when did Annie become the mature one in this family? "Are you just being nice so I won't hassle you about Charlie?"

Annie smiled and stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. "Have fun at work." She closed the door behind him.

He made it to the meeting just in time, sliding into his seat as Graham started talking.

"Ontario's provincial government is being a pain in the ass on this one. We'll need to do some politicking before we even get into the park..."

An hour later, Graham dismissed the group. "O'Hara's. Twelve-thirty. Spread the word."

"Boxing day already?" Riley asked as they walked out. "Feels like Monday, not Wednesday."

Their team had a standing date on Wednesdays -- anyone who wasn't traveling met up at a run-down gym in South Boston. Riley had found it back when Graham was in rehab and couldn't stand to train in the building's fitness center -- too much of a reminder of what he couldn't do any more.

No, Graham had been a convenient excuse. When it came down to it, Riley was the one with the painful memories -- of Sam in that gym. It was kind of ironic: she'd wanted them to take the jobs in Boston and yet the more time he'd spent setting up the new office, the more time she'd spent in the gym. Spending time away from him. She had hated the office with a passion much stronger than either of them had expected. It hadn't exactly been a surprise that the comment he'd flung at her on that last day was one that would piss her off so completely.

Well, as Riley had admitted to Buffy -- possibly, in fact, the only time he'd ever admitted it to anyone -- he'd chosen his words deliberately, knowing they would make Sam mad. He'd survived for twenty years because of his ability to identify the opposition's weakness; was it any wonder he'd used it on his own wife? It certainly didn't make him proud, though, and it was something he was reminded of every time he stepped foot into the gym. God, how he hated that place.

A few months after he returned to work following Sam's death, he'd been doing chin-ups on the icy fire escape. He'd gotten caught by a janitor who was a regular at O'Hara's. It was only a couple steps above a fire escape, the janitor had said, but at least they had heat in the winter.

Riley made his way there one night not too long after, fighting the temptation to just plunk himself down on a stool in one of the many bars South Boston was known for. He was glad he managed, though. As soon as he walked through O'Hara's door, he knew he'd be spending a lot of time there. If they let him.

It was one of those places where you had to prove yourself. The first night he was there, the punks in the corner came on strong -- pretty boy from downtown had no business in a place like this. They challenged him to a fight, not mentioning the four-on-one part.

Riley got a kick out of taking them down -- after months of nothing but grief and guilt it felt good to have the fire back, if only for a little while. He had been sitting there, cocky as hell, ready to take on whoever came next, when an old guy came up into the ring.

'You want a fight, kid? They ain't worth shit. You want to come back here again? You fight me.'

Riley had laughed in the man's wrinkled, gnarled face. 'I'm not going to fight you.'

'Did you hear me say you had a choice?'

The old guy had swung a punch harder than anything Riley had felt in a long time. It sent him stumbling backwards, falling against the ropes, stunned. He had scrambled up, ducking in time to avoid the next blow and get in one of his own, only to pull his hand back in pain when it hit pure muscle.

The guy fought dirty, and Riley found himself thinking that, with the exception of Buffy, he had never seen such strength and cunning combined in such an unlikely package.

Half an hour later, exhausted and bloody, the old guy finally held his hand up. He bent down, leaning his hands on his knees, and spit out some blood. When he came up, he said, 'You can come back.'

Riley, just as tired and beaten up, had stuck his hand out -- the one that wasn't broken. 'Riley Finn.'

'You don't look Irish,' the man had said. 'Looks like we got ourselves a new punching bag,' he yelled out for the sake of the crowd that had gathered around the ring. 'Goes by the name of Riley Finn. Someone get this kid a drink.' He shook Riley's hand. 'Pete O'Hara. You're lucky you can fight, kid, because I really hate you Army boys.'

Riley didn't make it home that night; spent the night drinking and trading war stories with Pete and his friends. All retired, all Marines, and not one of them giving a damn about the fact that he was now a widower with four young kids and a best friend who sat staring out a hospital window all day every day, barely acknowledging his own family. It was the only place Riley could go to get away from the sympathetic looks and the heartfelt condolences; all well meant, but tiring just the same. When Graham was well enough, Riley brought him there, too.

It had taken a while for Graham to do anything more than sit there in that wheelchair, but Pete -- with a gentleness and compassion that Riley didn't know existed in the old man -- finally got him working out with the weights. Within a few months Graham was walking again, defying all predictions; six months later, he was taking hits in the ring from the street kids and retired boxers that populated the place.

As Riley and Graham got their lives back on track, they began to rebuild the team that had fallen apart after the crash. They chose their men carefully, running them up against Pete and his boys before making any final decisions; and then later using the gym as a training ground, a place to hone skills against the scrappy Irish fighters. As time passed, their squad developed a reputation among the fighters, and Pete had a waiting list of guys who wanted to spar with them. For nearly six years now, Pete had been shutting down the gym on Wednesday afternoons -- working class guys from Southie vs. the G-Men from downtown. No weapons allowed, but everything else was fair game.

Graham often said he owed his life to Riley, but Riley thought it was Pete who had saved them both. In those early years after the crash, it was the only thing that kept them going. Even now it was a haven from the things they dealt with on a daily basis: their teenage kids and demons -- the second and third most baffling things in the world, the first, of course, being women. Which Graham was talking about right now.

"What did you just say?" Riley asked Graham as they walked down the hall towards their offices. He felt like he had been out of it for the last twelve hours, snippets of reality popping out through the haze; most everything obscured by the memories Buffy's reappearance had stirred up.

"What is with you today?" Graham said, looking at Riley with a bit of concern. "You o.k.?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Riley knew this would be the logical time to tell Graham about Buffy, but he had to work himself up to it. They hadn't really spoken about her in years but Graham had been as unforgiving as ever last time her name had come up. "Just tired -- didn't sleep much last night."

Graham said, "Sarah will kill me if I don't ask how things went with Jean."

Riley nodded as someone called out hello from further down the hall. "Jean was definitely my favorite of all the blind dates. Under different circumstances..."

"Yeah, I figured you'd say something like that." Graham laughed. "Told Sarah not to get her hopes up."

"You and Sarah have a nice time?" Riley couldn't help but grin when he realized Graham was actually blushing.

"Very," Graham replied, obviously embarrassed. "Thanks for having Josh stay over."

Yeah, Riley thought. About that... "Thank my mom. She's the one that does all the work."

Graham asked, "Your parents coming to dinner tonight?"

Riley shook his head. "Liam and my dad get in around eleven and Jack finagled an overnight at his friend's. I think my Mom's looking forward to the peace and quiet of an empty house for a few hours."

"Well, if she changes her mind... You know Sarah always cooks for twice as many people as there are."

"Graham!" One of the secretaries called out to him as they walked by. "Ambassador Cain's on line one."

Graham made a face. Jessica Cain, the ambassador to Canada, was one of his least favorite people. "I'll take it in my office," he said. Turning back to Riley he asked, "Did you walk to work today?"

Riley nodded. The office was closer to his house than any parking spot he would get downtown.

Graham stopped at his door. "Want a ride over to the gym?"

"Sure. Just come get me when you're ready." Riley headed to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. It took him forty minutes before he finally got to his office, thanks to the various people he ran into on the way. Graham was waiting for him. Not a good sign.

"What's this?" Riley sat down at his desk and picking up the papers that Graham had thrown down. A fax from Cain.

Graham was pacing -- back and forth, back and forth -- as Riley read. Or tried to read.

"Do you believe this shit?" Graham asked.

"Sit," Riley said. "You're driving me crazy."

Graham sat down across from Riley, tapping his fingers on the armrest as he talked. "I apparently pissed off the Minister of Natural Resources, and now they're saying that they need the Prime Minister and the President involved."

Riley scanned the fax while Graham was talking. It was a highly detailed list of conditions for the upcoming job. "No weapons?"

"No blasters, no tasers, no rifles. Nada." Graham ran his hand through his hair, more agitated than Riley was used to seeing him. "They've got hikers' bodies turning up left and right, and we're supposed to go in there completely exposed. Plus they want to limit us to one recon team of five men, including their guide. You know how big Quetico is? The park is over a million acres of pure wilderness. And that's not including the American side, which is about the same."

Glancing up, Riley asked, "Do we even know where we're supposed to go? Did the maps come in yet?"

Graham shook his head. "'In the mail,' according to Jessica."

Riley picked up his phone and hit the button connecting him to his assistant. "Wendy -- do some research for me? I need any information you can find on two parks: Boundary Waters is in northern Minnesota. It connects up with Quetico on the border with Canada. I'm mostly looking for maps, but some basic fact sheets wouldn't hurt. There've got to be some websites out there, hiking clubs, newsletters, whatever. Just get me what you can by tomorrow morning."

"That would totally be like her not to send me stuff that's readily available," Graham mumbled, sitting back in his chair.

"Might just be easier to take a trip up there, you know," Riley suggested. "Try and smooth things over." He wasn't surprised by Graham's irritated look. Cain had made her interest in Graham very clear at one point; when he didn't return her affection, she made it her business to make any dealings he had with Canadian officials as difficult as possible.

Graham stood up. "Fuck. You know Sarah hates it when I have to go up there."

"I'll be your chaperone," Riley offered. "I'll stick so close there won't even be a chance for an unauthorized handshake."

"You think she's a demon of some kind?" Graham obviously wanted the answer to be 'yes.' "That would make things so much easier."

"Sorry. Human." Riley handed the fax back to Graham. "I'm pretty sure."

"Yeah." Graham sighed. "O.k. I'll make the call and set it up for next week." He paused in the doorway. "Don't suppose you want to head over to Pete's a little early? I could use some extra time on the punching bag right about now."

You don't even know the half of it.

Riley smiled as he shut down his computer. He'd take O'Hara's over the office any day. "Five minutes. I'll meet you downstairs."