Someone to Watch Over Me

Riley Finn held the crackling radio closer to his ear, trying to make out what the shouting was all about. In the end, it didn’t matter. Whether or not he was a part of the team any longer, a part of the military, he had to help. It was just something he had to do, something he’d not only trained for but was.

Grabbing his gun, clipping the radio to his belt as he raced out of his little sewer hideaway, he went to help. It was, after all, what he did. He helped – whether or not he was on the run from the army or not. He helped humans. He captured demons. He made the world, or this tiny corner of it that seemed more dangerous than anything should, a little safer.

Besides, Buffy would. She’d go and help no matter who was after her, and plenty were. From what he’d been able to gather in the few months he’d known her, every demon, a good many humans who made their living in the demonic world, and several students at UC Sunnydale wanted her dead.

That could’ve been jealousy, however, though he wasn’t sure what that jealousy was about. He’d heard whispers, but nothing conclusive. And Buffy certainly wasn’t talking.

There was more he was missing, but she kept him in the dark about her life, no matter that he shared in that life these last months. She was keeping something from him – about the demons she fought, about the world she inhabited. Ruled, some of the HSTs said.

The Slayer ruled the night. She was the night, they insisted, laughing at him and the other humans who captured them. She was more than they knew, and if they thought to keep her locked away in this lab with them, then they were sorely mistaken. That no one would tolerate.

Yes, he was missing something about Buffy, but had no idea what it could possibly be. No one would tolerate that? No one meaning the demons? Or no one meaning her group, the humans who helped her?

Of course, Xander’s little revelation about sex and Angel and his soul might have totally thrown him.

Racing down the street, grateful to the army for increasing his stamina – Buffy had few complaints about it – Riley rounded the corner just as the last of the team hit the wall and fell unconscious. Raising his flashlight into the eyes of the thing that had done this, for no human could’ve taken any of the Initiative’s teams Riley was certain, he waited for it to attack.

“Riley Finn,” the thing said, voice low and harsh, a slight smirk playing around the corners of its mouth. For an HST, it wasn’t bad looking, certainly more human than some of the demon things he’d seen, but that meant one thing.

Vampire.

“I know you?” he demanded, certain no demon, vampire or not, knew him by name. Spike didn’t count, apparently.

“We have a friend in common.” The thing growled, stalking closer in a slow and graceful way that hinted at repressed strength. Contained anger. And a cunning and fluidity he’d seen in few of the vampires he and his team captured. Again, Spike being the exception, a disturbing frequency Riley resented.

“Angel.” So this was Angel. Riley was taller. Broader in the shoulders…well, maybe taller. And better looking, yeah, he was sure he was better looking. More importantly, Riley was human. Mucho points for that.

“My reputation precedes me,” he chuckled, stopping a few feet from where Riley stood. “Welcoming committee your idea?”

No, but if he had known, Riley would’ve sent more men. To attack and kill Angel. Fuck this capture bull. He wanted Angel dead.

“Way I heard it,” Riley advanced a swaggering step forward, jealously flaring in his eyes, in his voice. “You were all peaceable now. You didn’t by any chance go and lose that pesky soul again, did you?”

Angel growled, flashed his fangs at the boy. “Don’t push me, boy.”

Rage colored his vision, and Riley knew he’d just been challenged. For dominance. For Buffy. It was one challenge he wasn’t going to lose. Not to this piece of shit dead thing. Not to Angel. Or the evil Angel, it seemed. Buffy had slept with the undead bastard. She’d slept with him…damn her. And damn him for not realizing that vampires had such holds on their victims.

“Now what possibly could’ve happened with Buffy that would make you lose your soul?”

Angel was circling him now, stalking him as a predator would his prey. Prey, yes that was it. Well, tough. Riley was alpha here, hadn’t he proven that more than once? Hadn’t he shown Buffy just that? Shown the demons in this town? And he wasn’t going to lose that position to a vampire. An undead HST who was so far below humans, they weren’t on the same damn scale.

“That’d be between me and her, now, wouldn’t it.”

Releasing his baton, Riley picked up the challenge as Angel started to move away, move out of the alley and towards, no doubt, Buffy. This was one fight he wasn’t losing. “Where do you think you’re going?

“Going to see an old girlfriend.” The words were cocky, smug. Sure of himself in this dark alley where Buffy would never have to know Riley’d killed her ex. Where Buffy would never have to know Angel was even in the same town as she. Yes, if he killed Angel, then Buffy would be his alone, and Riley could and would deny all knowledge.

“Oh, you really think I’m gonna let that happen?”

He had the nerve to laugh, to mock. His glare was mean, his stance relaxed as if Riley presented no threat. “You think you’re gonna stop me?”

“I surely do.”

Angel laughed again and punched Riley. Deflecting the direct aim, Riley whipped the baton in Angel’s face, backhanding him in a smooth move. But Angel caught the arm, twisted, bent it in an unnatural direction, and Riley went down on one knee.

Maybe not as easy as he’d originally thought.

Several minutes later, Riley was thinking that if he could make it out of this alley alive, he might be happy. Still, honor was at stake. Honor and pride.

Because damn, even the electric shock did nothing to the damn demon. No, all Angel did was growl at him, in full demon face, and attack harder. Fuck. Riley tumbled to the ground, but Angel yanked him back up, sending him flying to the other side of the alley.  A large pile of heavy metal cylinders broke his fall none too gently.

Pain shot out in all directions as he fell to the ground. Forcing limbs stiff with hurt to move, Riley stood just as the headlights of an Initiative vehicle rounded the corner. Angel was nowhere to be found.

But he knew exactly where the demon was headed.

~~~~~~~~~~

She was already inside. And she was hurt. A low rumble echoed throughout the hallway of her dorm as Angel knocked on the door.

“Angel,” she sighed as he walked in. Shutting the door, she let him wrap his arms around her. Let him hold her close. Let the tension of the past weeks fade away.

Pulling away, she leaned up for a kiss, letting the passion that was always between them warm her from the inside out. Shivering when he pulled away, Buffy rested her head once more on his chest. It was silent, but she didn’t care; knew the intimate workings of his body as well as her own. Better.

Looking back up at him, she frowned. “You’re hurt.”

Angel cupped her face in his hands, thumb grazing the dried blood. “You too.” He kissed the cut, closing the barely seeping wound. “What happened?”

“Big bad of the year. Nothing much.”

“Adam did this to you?” his voice was a snarl. Angry, ready to tear the thing apart slowly and repeatedly.

She smiled, but shrugged. “I’ll live.” Her hand grazed his own cut, almost mirroring hers. “You want to tell me who ran your face into that doorknob?”

“Not really. It’s not world-in-peril stuff. And it’s not why I’m here.”

She caught the note of urgency in his voice, and stopped what she’d been about to say. Their latest charade. Faith, LA, cops, it didn’t matter. Not when her lover was obviously in a rush. Why the hell was he in such a rush?

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Just then, the door burst open to reveal a slightly psychotic Riley holding his service gun. Well, Buffy thought, staring dumbly at the scene as Angel pushed her behind him, blocking her. Protecting her. This wasn’t how their reunion was supposed to go. Riley was supposed to be in some damn sewer, waiting for her to contact him about their next meeting at Giles’. He wasn’t supposed to be here!

“I told you,” Riley said as he leaned against Willow’s desk. “You weren’t coming near her.”

Buffy looked at him, really looked, and snorted. He looked awful. How he was standing, she wasn’t sure. Pity. She could’ve had her reunion then. Still, she had a part to play. Damn her. And Cordelia. And Giles. And Angel himself for this! 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Buffy looked away from Riley, staring at Angel. He knew the role, too. “This is why you came?”

“No.” Of course it wasn’t why he’d come. Maybe he should’ve made sure the boy was dead. Er, unconscious at least. “This was accident.” Maybe leaving him alive was an accident…

Pissed, though she wasn’t sure at whom she was angrier, Buffy huffed, “Running a car into a tree is an accident!  Running your fist into somebody’s face is a plan!  Please, explain this to me!”

Angel didn’t answer, but did look at Riley. He was unstable. Unsteady on his feet and clearly not thinking straight. A bullet wouldn’t hurt him, but could hurt Buffy. And that was something Angel wasn’t willing to take a chance on.

“Put that gun down,” he said calmly.

“It’s pretty much all I got left, so I’m thinking not.” Idiot. Like a bullet would hurt him. Not looking away from Angel, Riley continued. “He attacked four of my men, Buffy.  I think he’s up to his old tricks.”

“He won’t hurt anybody.” Old tricks? What the hell was Riley talking about? What old tricks?

Buffy shook her head. Paused at that last statement and wondered how to explain to her ‘boyfriend’ that Angel, her lover, wouldn’t hurt anyone unless they were a threat – direct or indirect – to her. Or them…Riley wasn’t a threat to them, but the fact that she’d slept with him for months now wore on Angel’s patience. And jealousy.

It wasn’t doing much for her, either. Was he sure this was her idea? She blamed Giles. Or maybe Doyle. Possibly Spike. Yes, blame it on Spike.

“Tell him,” she said instead to Angel.

But all Angel did was move forward. Threateningly and steadily. Stalking Riley. Intimidating him. Showing him who was alpha, who was not. “Might hurt you.”

Taking his own step forward, Riley nodded. “Please try.”

Angel laughed, folded his arms across his chest. “Heh. Some threat. You can barely stand…boy.”

Waving the gun as if he were some kind of gunfighter, Riley sneered, “Trigger finger feels okay.”

Keeping an eye on the boy who thought to take his place, Angel asked Buffy, “You actually sleep with this guy?”

Buffy winced, but said nothing. He was supposed to play along. He was supposed to be jealous. He was. Jealous that was. Insanely so, and everyone knew it. It was why, or one of the reasons, she’d gone to LA. To smooth things over with him. To fight it out – again – and to make up. Again. To show him who she loved, and who she did not. Who she needed.

Taking advantage of Angel’s distraction, Riley used the opportunity to punch the vampire. He missed Buffy’s hurt look. He missed Angel’s eyes as they expressed their love and apology. He missed the entire transaction as he focused all his hatred on Angel. The demon who was no better than an animal. Worse, lower.

Angel hit him back, instantly as if he was only waiting for such an opportunity.

“Okay, stop it!” Buffy moved between them, shoving them apart. Riley slammed into Willow’s desk – she’d have to explain later, but somehow Buffy knew her best friend would understand the mess her side of the room was now in. Angel landed on Willow’s bed, smirking at the display from his fiery lover.

“Okay, that’s enough! I see one more display of testosterone poisoning, and I will personally put you both in the hospital!” Looking back and forth between them, she glared at Angel when he looked like he wanted to laugh. Riley, however, looked like he still wanted to shoot Angel.

Oh, perfect.

“Anybody think I’m exaggerating?”

“He started it-” Angel began in a reasonable voice.

But Buffy held up a warning finger, and, with a last wink at her, he wisely shut up. But couldn’t help the growl when she walked over to Riley. Spoke to him in a quiet and calm voice. Acted like she was in love with him. Acted like she didn’t care Angel was there. His demon flashed quickly, angrily, but Riley didn’t notice. He was totally focused on Buffy.

Bastard. Riley was so dead.  

“Riley,” she began, glancing at his gun which he immediately put away.

“I’m sorry. Just wanted to know that you were safe.”

Buffy ignored that. Like she couldn’t take care of herself. “I need to talk to Angel for a minute.”

That caught him off guard. Good. “What?”

“Riley, please.”

Angel suppressed another growl at Buffy begging this boy for his permission to speak with her own lover. Her mate. The only person she begged was him. Ever. And she would, later tonight.

Carefully schooling his features as Riley looked at him, Angel continued to sit on the bed, elbows resting on his knees. The perfect picture of contrite innocence. Looking down at Buffy again, Riley said in a firm voice, “I’m not leaving this room.” Crossing his arms, he nodded once in affirmation. “I mean it.”

As Riley continued to glare at Angel, Buffy, exasperated, looked over her shoulder and gave Angel a slight tilt of her head, smiling at him, winking as she did so. Without another word, she walked past Riley to the door. Out the door. Not bothering to hide the smirk, Angel stood up, following her.  

Alone, Riley repeated as the door closed with a decisive click .“Not moving a muscle.”

In the empty hall, Buffy turned on Angel. And leapt into his waiting arms. “God, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be, beloved. It’s my fault.”

“Let me guess,” she whispered, lips just touching his. “You taunted and mocked. Made him angry.”

“I should’ve killed him.” Angel growled, crushing her lips with his, tasting the boy on her. But he felt her shudder, felt her need. Knew Riley could never hope to satisfy her, knew the ache deep within her could only be assuaged by him.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” she admitted, forehead against his. “I don’t think I can. It’s so hard. So hard to keep up the pretense. God, Angel, I’m sorry I ever came up with this stupid plan.” She pulled back, offered a tiny smile. “I blame Spike.”

He snorted, though he was hurt and jealous at the entire idea. How had he let her talk him into this? Oh. Right. Sex. Damn. Incredibly hot sex with his incredibly hot lover. He was weak when it came to her. Always had been. Knew he always would be.

“I think we should fight,” Angel whispered against her lips. But his hands said otherwise as they cupped her ass, grinding her against him. Felt her arousal, scented it. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” she whispered, kissing him again. Pulling back in shock, she parroted, “Fight?”

“He’s listening.”

“Damn.” She rested her forehead against the crock of his neck for a moment. Breathed in his scent, his love, comfort. Not understanding, but love and comfort. Support. “God, I’m tired.”

“I know, beloved. Just a little longer. Adam is a ridiculous idea, but with the Council possibly in on this, and several governments funding him, we need to destroy it.”

“I coulda done that without Riley.”

“Yes, and I believe I mentioned that. Several times.” Buffy pouted and nodded in agreement with his irritated words.

“I didn’t think it’d be this long. Or this hard. I didn’t think,” she whispered, a tear falling down her cheek. Angel caught it, as he always did, kissing it away. “That I’d have to sleep with him.”

A shudder of revulsion went through her. She hadn’t told Angel about the night in the frat house with the ghost, or how they’d had sex for hours. He didn’t need to know that. She’d sworn everyone to silence upon penalty of dismemberment, evisceration, and death. Anya had offered to find her a demon who could wipe her memory, but Buffy had, reluctantly, declined.

Just in case the memory-wipe wiped things she wanted to keep.

“But this way,” he reminded her through a jealous growl that went straight through to her soul, “You had access to things you wouldn’t have otherwise.”

She leaned back, and for a moment Angel was struck by her sheer perfection. Her beauty. Her love for him. “I still hate it.”

“Not nearly as much as I do.” He kissed her again. “And trust me when I say, your punishment for this stupid, ridiculous plan will be long. Tell your mother you won’t see her the rest of the summer.”

Buffy shivered, clenched her legs tighter around his hips, bringing her wet heat closer to his hardness. “She hates the plan, too.”

“Everyone hates the plan.”

“Okay,” she nodded, loosening her legs from his waist. “Fight.”  She slid down his body with one last kiss. “I come to see you, to help you, and you treat me like I’m just…your ex.”

“Well, technically-” Angel said, tweaking her nipple through the sweater.

“Shut up!” She batted his hand away, but Angel caught the heat flair in her eyes. His hand massaged her breast, fingers tugging on her nipples. Buffy’s head dropped back, but she continued. A little breathless, but she continued. “You order me out of your city, and then you come here and start pounding on my boyfriend?”

Angel growled, grabbing her by the shoulders, shifted into his vampiric face. Undaunted, Buffy traced his features. “I would really like to know what the hell you are trying to do.”

Angel kissed her again, letting her touch, her kiss sooth the rage. “I was trying to make things better.”

Snorting at his line, Buffy pulled back. “Better?” She started to laugh. Angel, unable to resist the sound, joined in.

“You’re so beautiful when you laugh,” he whispered. Her eyes shone, and he realized how hard this was on her. Not just him, though he’d spent more than one evening. Morning. Week. Killing demonic beings just to work off his anger over the entire plan. Cordelia was ready to throttle him. Wesley wasn’t far behind.

“Yeah, well…” Angel shook his head, vampire face dissolving as he relaxed. “It’s, ah, it’s going pretty good, don’t you think?”

Leaning against him, Buffy giggled again. “Swell. That was such an awful line. We need to rehearse these things, I’m thinking.”

“I miss you, love.”

“I miss you, too. But it’s almost over. Everything’s falling apart. Willy says the demons are ready to fight this Adam-thing, though some are with him. Adam-him, not Willy-him. Most get that he wants to kill them and do icky Frankenstein-y stuff to them. So they’re on our side.”

“Good.” Angel rested his cheek on her head, breathing in her scent. This was wearing on her, and he knew he wasn’t helping. But between the farce of an act in LA and this, he needed to see her. Desperately needed to reassure both of them.

“He’s still listening,” Angel sighed, double checked the door was completely shut.

“And Riley?” Buffy asked like a good little actress.

“I got jumped by some soldiers,” he answered honestly. Adding softly, “Like they could take me.” He felt her smile, felt her relax in his arms. When this was over, they were going away. Cordelia had already book the trip – had, in fact, invited herself and Wesley along. Willow and Xander, not to be left behind, were coming, too. Which meant Tara and Anya were coming. Angel wisely agreed, knowing that after this charade, they all needed a break.

Though he still had issues with Spike tagging along.

Still, Angel booked his and Buffy’s room in separate lodgings, six miles away. Large suite, nice balcony to overlook the moors, and soundproofing so that when he meted out her punishment for her plan, no one else could hear her delicious screams of passionate pain.

“Riley came in the fight in the middle.” he shrugged. “I wasn’t real forthcoming with the benefit of the doubt.”

Buffy nodded, feeling herself start to drift. God, she was tired. Angel shook her awake.

“Not yet, love. Soon you can sleep. Or,” he kissed her neck, fangs grazing her scar, “Other, more pleasurable things.”

“You have to stop doing that,” she grumbled, then louder, “Put yourself in his place.”

“I get it,” he shrugged, but didn’t stop his homage to her neck.

“I need to get back in,” Buffy sighed, but her neck arched into his mouth.

“Do whatever you have to do,” Angel nodded. “I’ll be back in three hours.”

“Yes,” she looked at him with wet eyes. Blinking once, the hard steel back in the beautiful hazel, she nodded. “I’ll be waiting.” Stepping back, breaking contact with him was the hardest move she ever had to do, Buffy’s fingers still clung to his.

“I think the best thing you can do right now is leave.”

“Okay.” He kissed her again. “Later, lover.”

“It means a lot that you came.” She nodded, watched him walk to the door at the end of the hall. Slowly, their fingers still entwined.

He let go, turned to leave. Couldn’t watch her eyes. Knew he had to make this up to her somehow. Doyle wouldn’t want her to be put through this, not for his last vision. And yet, this was the only damned plan either of their teams could come up with to stop Adam and his apocalyptical army of hybrids.

And everyone knew how he’d tried to come up with another plan. One that didn’t require his mate to sleep with someone else.

“Oh,” he paused, turned with a wink. “And Riley?”

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him. “Yeah?”

“I don’t like him.”

Buffy smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“Until tonight, my love.”

Moving to the door, Buffy slowly opened it. Steeling herself for the confrontation. For the news she had to bring. For the part she had to play.

And three hours later, once she’d convinced Riley to head to Giles, once she, in classic cryptic-Angel fashion, told Giles of Angel’s visit and he immediately realized why he was forced to baby sit Riley – complete with stammering and eyeglass cleaning – she went back to her dorm room.

And waited for her lover.

“Willow’s at Tara’s for the night,” Buffy smiled as Angel slipped into the room. “Quite the understanding roomie I have there.”

“Yes,” he whispered, gathering her in his arms. Looked at her in the light that shone from outside. “You look tired, my love.”

“Long…year.”

“Let me make you forget it, then.” His voice was velvet promise, coaxing, pledging. “Close your eyes, Buffy.”

Doing as he asked, Buffy felt herself laying on the bed. Her bed, their bed. She’d never let Riley stay over, always using Willow as her excuse for why she went to his frat house. This was her and Angel’s bed, the bed he made her forget on, the bed he loved her on. Giving herself to Angel, Buffy felt once more.

She smelled like him. Like the boy. He was all over her, and Angel growled at the scent. He couldn’t stand it, and almost hit her for it. Didn’t. Couldn’t.

Slowly undressing her, Angel took his time. Tasted her, teased her. Slowly making his way up one leg and down the other. Swirled his tongue around her belly, bit down hard with blunt teeth on her breasts. And never stopped his litany on the many things he loved about her. The many ways he loved her.

“Your breasts,” he continued, kissing the areole, scrapping the nipple with his fangs, no longer able to hold back. “The scent of them when you’re aroused. The way your nipples harden at my touch.” He blew a breath of cold air on one, smiled. “At my voice.”

Biting around the nipple, drawing a small mouthful of blood, Angel moved to her mouth. Kissing her, swallowing her cry of pleasure, he said, “Open your eyes, love. Look at me.”

“Angel,” Buffy sighed, wrapped her legs around his waist. Begged him to enter her. To complete her. “Please, Angel. Make me forget.”

Thrusting into her welcoming body, Angel growled, “Never say his name in our bed.”

“No,” she shook her head, instinctively knowing that. Wondering why she had. Punishment for allowing her to follow through on this stupid plan? Buffy wasn’t sure.

“God, baby,” Angel said, stilling. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she murmured, kissing him, rocking her hips against his. “I’m sorry, too.”

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” he vowed. Setting a steady pace, Angel moved his cold hand down her body, teased her curls with his fingers, flicked a nail over her clit.

“Angel!” she shouted, clamping around him as she shuddered through her climax.

Not finished with her, Angel drove her up again, watched her shatter around him, only to bring her to a third climax. Catching her cries, her shouts every time. Not wanting to share anything of her, not even that.

“I love you,” he told her, fangs slipping into her neck, reopening the scar that marked her as his.

And this time, when she orgasmed around him, he followed her. Empting everything he was into her body. Complete. Whole.

“Sleep, love,” he whispered, curling around her as Buffy clung to him. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

“Don’t leave me,” Buffy whispered. “I love you too much to let you go.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A week later…

“Damn,” Buffy sighed as Angel helped her walk out of the bunker. Destruction lay around them. Bodies, limbs. Demons and humans. Adam almost had his way. Almost.

“I told you that spell was going to take a lot out of you,” he scolded, ignoring her protests and sweeping her into his arms.

“It hasn’t,” Buffy admitted. “I just like it when you hold me.”

Chuckling, he looked behind him. Cordelia and Anya were helping Willow, while Wesley and Xander were regulated to cleanup duty. Giles was bringing up the rear, Spike trailing behind him. Their demonic army scattered now that the battle was finished.

Tomorrow they’d go back to being enemies.

But that was for tomorrow.

“Buffy!” Riley called, racing up to her.

Angel growled at his approach, and Buffy tiredly lifted her head from his shoulder. “Shush,” she whispered sleepily, lips grazing Angel’s cheek.

“What’s going on here?”

“We adverted the apocalypse,” she mumbled. Maybe she was tired.

“Yup,” Xander nodded, his voice not the usual peppy tone he used at the end of a big battle. Yeah, they were all beat. “Saved the world again. We should start keeping track, Buff,” he told Buffy as he dumped a bowl in her lap just as he was about to drop it. Hey, if he had to carry everything, it was only fair she had to carry something. 

“But…what the hell is going on? Who are these people? And what the hell is he doing here…?” Riley trailed off, looking dazed and lost. Bloody, too, form the battle.

“Riley, Riley, Riley,” Xander shook his head, grinning like a fool as Angel carried Buffy into the evening and everyone else gathered around. He’d won the bet, won the chance to tell Captain Cornball the truth. Spike had wanted to, had actually threatened his life. But fair and square, Xander won the bet.

“Buffy and Angel? Lovers. The forever kind of love. You think you could touch that?” He shook his head, but the mocking grin was unmistakable. “Now, while I personally don’t like to think about what they do behind that heavy oak door separating them from the rest of the world, I do know they’ll love each other until time ends.”

“That failing,” Willow chimed in, “The earth really is destroyed.”

“Eternity collapses,” Cordelia added, just for good measure.

“Hey!” Xander protested. “This is my win! You lost, you all lost!” he glared at Spike. “Spike.”

“How was I to know the bloody ponce would cave?” Spike grumbled. The bet had been simple: Xander said Buffy could talk Angel into participating in the charade-from-hell, while Spike bet no. Absolutely not. Even if Angel was a ponce, no way would he let her shag Captain Pathetic.

There were grumbled sorrys, and Xander went back to his speech. “Now, as I was mocking. I can’t believe everyone buys it! That the gypsies would be dumb enough to curse the most vicious vampire ever with a soul he could lose! Morons. But you have to admit” Shaking his head, Xander turned to walk away, the rest of the group wearily following him. “It’s a great story.”

“It’s a true story,” Willow reminded him.

“Well,” Xander nodded as they walked into the night. “Yeah, great mojo, Will…you sure know how to resoul ‘em.”

Riley stared in shock. Wondering just what the hell had happened. This wasn’t the ending he’d envisioned.

“When’s our flight, Seer?” Spike asked as Cordelia shuffled the book she was carrying.

“Six o’clock day after tomorrow. Wanted to make sure we killed the big bad before we left to party his death. Everyone packed?”

There were quick agreements, though poor Joyce had done most of the packing while everyone else planned for this battle. She was meeting them for a week later in the summer as part of the packing deal.

“Oh, and Riley?” Giles looked back at the boy. “No one really liked you.”

The next day, Riley was dead. Angel denied all knowledge, but Xander and Spike knew the truth. There was no way in hell a vampire as possessive and protective as Angel was, was going to let someone who’d touched his mate get away with it and live.

“Polgara demon,” Angel said simply, despite the fact that in no way did Riley’s death resemble that of a Polgara demon’s methods. More like that of a vampire’s. In fact, when word spread about his death, it was said that there wasn’t a drop of blood left in him. He was shriveled up, not at all like a normal vamp attack where there’s still blood in the body, but not enough to sustain life.

Angel had, of course, drained everything in Riley. Everything that smelled, tasted, or felt like Buffy was no longer in the boy, but once again Angel’s. Solely, completely Angel’s.

Two days after that, Buffy was screaming Angel’s name as he reclaimed her in their monstrous bed in their castle room. They fought, screamed, and argued over the ‘plan’ and their roles in it. They shouted their venom, Angel over Riley touching Buffy, and Buffy over the fact that he had. Then, as Buffy cried in his arms, Angel apologized.

“I’ll never let you go,” he vowed. “I swear, beloved. You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”

All trace of Riley was gone; his scent, his name, everything. All that remained was Angel. And when they finally toured Ireland, three weeks after landing, Riley was a dim memory never to be mentioned again.

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