Author: Moe
Rating: PG
Pairing: B/R with a little W/Gr, X/Anya on the side
Disclaimer: I own nothing! Joss and Co., Mutant Enemy, Fox, etc owns
everything
Distribution: The Finnatics and anyone I have given permission to use my
fics may have it. Anyone else please ask first. Emmy may review
Feedback: I want it, I need it, I crave it
Spoilers: Season 4
Dedication: To all the people on the BuffyRileyFanfic and FINNSmut lists.
This is for you! Special hug going out to Starcrossed-you are way too good
to me!
Notes: This was going to be only 10 parts long, but as I began writing, I
found that there was another part I wanted to add so it will be 11 parts
now!
Part 9
Her friend stirred in the bed, but she did not wake. Buffy was impressed that Willow was able to sleep so peacefully, what with all the excitement the next day held. She, on the other hand, had been unable to sleep. Staring out the window at the stars, Buffy had remembered those times with Riley that she longed to recapture. The days they would spend at the beach, playing football in the surf, the long walks into the wooded area surrounding Sunnydale, the talks in front of the fire about nothing in particular, just enjoying each other's company.
Willow murmured in her sleep about being cold. Buffy crossed from her place by the window to the bed. Picking up the discarded comforter, she covered Willow and watched as the small redhead snuggled into the added warmth, a small smile playing across her face as she again slipped into a deep sleep.
Envious of her friend’’s restful state, Buffy figured a jog might help her relax a little. Quickly changing out of her pajamas and into some sweats, Buffy grabbed her shoes and silently slipped out of the room.
The night air felt good on her face as she listened to her shoes pound against the concrete. She had been running for half an hour and she still felt tense. The streets all became a blur to her as she ran aimlessly through Sunnydale. Her mind replayed the events of the last couple days as she tried to sort through her feelings. She found herself speeding up slightly, her lungs beginning to burn with the added strain. She ran hard, hoping to outrun the past, her past, her mistakes, but no matter how hard she pushed, they kept up with her, threatening to overtake her.
Though she had made up her mind earlier that she was going to go after Riley, she found her determination wavering. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was better off without her. She was inevitably going to hurt him. He deserved someone better, someone who would never cause him pain and grief. Tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision as she thought about all the times Riley’’s beautiful blue eyes had reflected deep hurt when she had wounded him with word or action. The dip in the sidewalk came without warning, as she stumbled to retain her balance, she flung her arms out, groping for anything that would halt her descent. Finding nothing, her body crashed to the ground, her knees and elbows scraping painfully on the cement.
Cringing, Buffy dragged herself into a sitting position, assessing the damage her fall had caused. Both elbows were red, but the skin was not broken. Her knees were another thing. Her new sweat pants had ripped at the knees and the skin there was torn and bleeding. Shaking her head at her clumsiness, she ripped the bottom of her sweat pants off, tearing them into strips, she wrapped the make shift bandages around her knees. Satisfied with her handiwork, Buffy stood up, dusting herself off.
Glancing around to determine her location, she noticed she was in the drive of the Four Seasons. Willow, trying to encourage her to talk to Riley after the rehearsal, had told her earlier that Riley was staying here and had even given Buffy his room number. Buffy had weaseled her way out of it by claiming she was sure he was busy helping Graham with things and she didn’t want to disturb him. Finding herself here, now, she had the overwhelming urge to be near him. Maybe that was why she found her body propelling itself towards the hotel of its own volition.
Limping past his rental car, she ran her hand over the paint, touching the driver side door handle, knowing his hand had been there. Wincing she climbed the steps to the second floor as she felt her heart begin to pound inside her chest. It always did that when she was anticipating seeing him. It always gave her such a rush to be near him. Though the curtains in Riley’s room were drawn, Buffy could see a sliver of light through the slit in the middle. The window was open and Buffy could hear the television sports announcer clearly. Edging closer to the window, Buffy peered into the small hotel room. Her eyes caught sight of him immediately.
Riley was sprawled across the bed, remote control clutched tightly in one hand, a beer in the other. His eyes were glued to the T.V. and occasionally he would shake his head in disgust over a bad call or play.
Pushing back a few stray hairs that had come loose during her run, she stepped up to the door. Raising her hand to the door, she breathed deeply, hoping to calm her nerves. Why did she feel so nervous? The man had seen her at her most vulnerable. Riley had seen her cry, yell, laugh, drunk. He had seen her naked, knew every inch of her body and soul. So why was she afraid to let him see her beg? Maybe it was the Slayer in her, maybe she was afraid of the rejection, hell, she didn’t know, but standing there, with nothing but a door separating them, she had never felt so naked before and her brain was screaming at her to run away while her heart was pleading with her to stay and fight for him.
Her emotions warring inside her head, she lowered her forehead to rest on the door. The thump of her head against the wood must have been louder than she thought, because she heard the unmistakable squeak of the mattress from inside the room, followed by large footsteps headed toward the door. Fear gripping her, Buffy did the only thing she could think of. She fled. Turning to her right, she dashed for the corner of the building and made it out of sight before he heard the door opening, followed by a questioning, “Hello?” Not wanting to stick around to see if he would come looking for her, she made her way to the back of the hotel and descended the stairs, stealing off into the night, hoping he would never know of her presence there tonight.
*******************************
After tossing and turning for a couple hours on the lumpy hotel bed, Riley had given up on the prospect of sleep. Throwing on some jeans and a t-shirt, he headed out the door. Walking across the street to the 7-11, he noticed how peaceful things seemed. He had yet to see a vampire or demon on his visit and it made him wonder how Buffy was doing in the slaying department. It was something he had always admired about her, her willingness to fight the good fight, her unselfishness and commitment towards the job and her strength. And not just her physical strength, but her emotional and intellectual as well. He had yet to meet another woman who could compare to her.
Picking up a six-pack and some munchies Riley quickly paid for them and made his way back to the hotel. He hadn’t carried a stake with him since he had left Sunnydale all those years ago and he didn’t want to end up something’s midnight snack. Entering his hotel room, he threw the pass key onto the table and ripping a beer from the plastic rings settled down on the bed for a night of bad TV.
After flipping through half a dozen infomercial’s, Riley was surprised and relieved to see a tape-delayed basketball game on. The Spurs vs. the Jazz. Immersing himself into the game, he was able to block out the loneliness he was feeling for minutes on end. But then he would feel the sting of solitude when he would make a comment about a bad call or a player’s style and there would be no one there to affirm or disagree with his opinion. So he kept quiet, guzzling the beer, hoping to get a buzz that would allow him to forget all together.
He was on his fifth beer when he heard steps on the stairs, figuring it was his noisy neighbor he turned his attention back to the game. The footsteps crossed in front of his room, where they paused. Though his interest was piqued slightly, Riley was feeling a good buzz and didn’t want to think about it. It wasn’t until he heard the soft thump on the door that Riley felt the situation warranted investigation. Climbing off the bed with a little difficulty, he wobbled to the door. Bumping his hip into the dresser on his way, he cursed softly as he rubbed the spot trying to reduce the ache.
Reaching the door, he steadied himself before pulling it open. The doorway was empty. Puzzled, Riley stepped out onto the walkway and looked up and down the hall. “Hello?” Getting silence in return, he turned to go back into the room when he caught it. The unmistakable scent of vanilla musk. Turning back around, his eyes searched desperately for her, eager to catch some glimpse of her, hoping his mind wasn’t conjuring up some fantasy just because he needed her so badly. Seeing no sign of Buffy, he shook his head, feeling foolish for even thinking she would come.
Storming back into the room, he flipped off the television and pulled down the covers to the bed, sending the empty beer cans scattering. Shutting off the light, he closed his eyes, praying that sleep would come. But instead of sleep, he felt the tears slowly slide down his face as loneliness gripped him once again. Grabbing the pillow next to him, he hugged it tightly to his chest, imagining it was Buffy instead. Imagining she was there, hugging him, comforting him, loving him.
Just like he longed to be loving her.
To be Continued...
On to part Ten
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