Title: Bring Me Into the Light (24/?)
AUTHOR: Mistress Ace & Em
E-MAIL: rosewood@inreach.com & vicedragonv@msn.com
FEEDBACK: Is the butter on our bread. We write because the story begs to be told. Feedback lets us know if we struck a chord with you.
DISTRIBUTION: Our site, for the moment. When we post fully edited chapters, those can be posted elsewhere. RATING: NC-17
CATEGORY: Story: Romance, Angst
SPOILERS: As You Were
PAIRINGS: B/R/Sam, m/f, f/f
DISCLAIMER: Don't own the characters at all. (More's the pity) They belong to the Great God Joss Whedon et al. We are just borrowing them for a little bit. That's all. No BtVS characters were harmed in the writing of this fic. Well, maybe just a little.
SUMMARY: Not back for long enough. Not nearly long enough and there were too many things left up in the air. But isn't that the purpose of fan-fiction?
 

Chapter 24

Buffy silently watched the interaction between Riley and Spike until Spike was out the door and Riley had closed it behind him. After another moment to be sure that he was really gone, Buffy closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. She finally let her guard down and the anger dissipate; it left her feeling drained and a little light-headed. She leaned against Sam for a moment, steadying herself until she opened her eyes again.

"Thank you both... for your support, your help," Buffy said in a soft, tired voice.

Sam's arms slid around her waist, holding Buffy tight. "Anytime," she stated simply. It had been an interesting confrontation. First vampire she'd met that didn't get staked.

"That was... different." Riley looked down at his feet and chuckled. "Never thought I'd be the one naked." He knew Buffy was wound pretty tight, didn't need to look at her slumped shoulders to figure that one out. So he tried to lighten the mood, steer it away from his insane urge to pull a Tarzan routine and beat his chest in triumph.

Buffy giggled softly. "I'm glad that your sweater ended up in Willow's room so I could grab it. Easier than getting completely dressed. I just wanted to be covered enough for decency." Didn't want Spike to see her naked. He'd seen enough of that already.

"So, what now?" Buffy tipped her head back and looked up at Sam. They'd kind of been interrupted, but they also had things to do today, too...

"Mmmm, depends on what you're up to." Darkening jade, followed by a slow smile. Sam was perfectly happy to return to their earlier occupation but wasn't sure how Buffy felt about it. They had just faced down her ex, suggesting a return to bed probably wouldn't be in good taste.

Riley joined them where they stood by the kitchen counter. He lifted one hand and drew his thumb across Sam's cheek before sucking it into his mouth. His wife shivered, her attention focused on him for a moment while she held Buffy in her arms. "Gotta say... You two have great timing." No hint of censure. No. There was admiration and amusement evident in his tone; most of the encounter with Spike had been deeply satisfying.

As he'd pointed out to the cocky vamp, payback is a bitch. And he'd gotten payback... finally.

Buffy looked up at Riley, noting the look of satisfaction deep in his eyes. **Guys will be guys,** she thought to herself. "You really enjoyed that, didn't you, Riley?" she asked softly. There was no emotion in her voice; it almost wasn't even a question. She didn't hold it against him, though. Being able to stand up to Spike had been good for her, too. Probably better than she really knew, at this point.

It had worn her out, though. The only thing that had allowed her to get through it was her anger and their support. And maintaining that anger had been difficult, to say the least. She'd been too happy in the past day, and mostly just blank before that. Strong anger was a difficult thing to hold on to. But it had worked.

"Yeah, I really did," he admitted. Honesty was the best policy here, always had been with Buffy and with Sam. He wrapped an arm around each of their waists and held them close. Buffy sagged against him, mute evidence of her emotional exhaustion. "Thank you, Buffy. For standing up to him. I know it was hard."

Sam kissed the top of her head, smoothing her cheek along Buffy's hair. She could feel her lover trembling and knew it was time to do a little prodding. "Finn, go lock the door. Buffy, why don't we go back upstairs, hmm? Hot shower would probably feel good, don't you think?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah. Sounds really great to me." And clean clothes after that - she would definitely have to remember to keep a change of clothes either with her or in their SUV or something. Putting on dirty clothes in the morning wasn't pleasant.

With an effort of will, she stood on her own two feet. She didn't pull away from either of them, but neither of them had to hold her up anymore. It occurred to her after a minute that she hadn't answered Riley and she gave him a bit of a smile. "You're welcome, too. I think I needed to. And it was easier when he started attacking you than if he'd been attacking me. He just made me so mad..."

"Understand what you mean. He's always made me mad." Riley stepped back as Sam took Buffy's hand, leading her toward the stairs. He did as ordered, locked the door and noted the damage Spike had done to it. The hardware store got added to his internal list of places to go. Padding along the hardwood floor, he caught up with them at the bottom of the steps. "I'll call Drum."

"Thank you, honey." Sam acknowledged his choice to allow them more alone time by kissing his cheek and then his mouth. He shivered, tasting Buffy there and had to fight the urge to grab her, to grab both of them. Not that he was certain he could do anything with them right now, it was more the principle of the thing.

Buffy hugged Riley and placed a kiss in the center of his bare chest. With a soft giggle she said, "Not that I'm complaining, but you may wanna get dressed before you get on the phone with your CO..."

Still holding Sam's hand, she took a few steps up the stairs and paused to wait.

Both Riley and Sam looked at each other and he was the first one to snicker. Sam managed to hold back for a few more seconds before they each burst into laughter. A bemused Buffy watched as Riley leaned against the banister, holding onto it while Sam ended up using the wall for support. Every time one of them looked like they were going to stop, the other one raised an eyebrow and they were off again.

Finally Sam managed to stop and when Riley looked up at her, she held up a hand in silent command. Sam turned to Buffy who was obviously awaiting an explanation for their outburst and she flashed her a brilliant smile. "Remember what I told you about the tans? Drum was with us. He's seen Riley in much, much less."

Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Buffy shook her head. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" Before her eyes flashed an image of Walsh and how outraged she would have looked if the guys had paraded around nude on the beach with her present. The thought made her giggle. "Still, I hadn't thought it'd be acceptable as an anytime sort of thing. But whatever."

One more shake of her head, a few more steps up the stairs. With a glance at Sam over her shoulder, she asked, "So, shower?"

"Shower," She agreed, following the sway of Buffy's slim hips under Riley's sweater. It was a pretty sexy look on her, one that Sam heartily approved of. Halfway up the stairs she turned back and caught her husband as he started his way up. "Joining us, Ry?"

"If I do that, we won't get anywhere today," he continued up the steps, drawing level with her. "Just gonna take Buffy's suggestion. Not like Drum would know but position of power thing. Easier to demand things of the CO when I'm wearing more than a towel."

Buffy laughed lightly at that. "He's probably right, Sam. On both counts." She stopped at the top of the steps and looked down at them. An interesting viewpoint, she decided. Very different from her usual vantage point. They were both far too tall, sometimes. They made her feel completely tiny. "Oh, Riley, if you want them... your sweat pants are still in my bottom dresser drawer." Right where he'd left them...

His head snapped up, clearly startled by that bit of information. "Yeah?" She'd kept his clothes. That meant more than Riley could say. He wondered if his favorite green sweater was still here, it had ended up behind the couch the last time they were together. They'd made love on the couch first, undressing each other slowly, moving in time with the music. Then on the stairs, where Buffy had left finger-marks in one of the balustrades.

And finally ended up in her bed, rocking into each other for hours on end. If he'd stayed in bed, if he hadn't gone out that night... he never would have met Sam and Sam was very much part of this. No regrets. They were going to have no regrets. Sam was his and Buffy was his and they all belonged together.

Buffy nodded. "Yeah. You can go ahead and look, if you'd like." There were other things in there, too. A couple of sweaters. A pair of boxers that ended up in her laundry hamper. The box containing the bracelet he'd given her... she hadn't been able to wear it, but didn't want it to get lost in her jewelry box. In that drawer, too, were several photographs of the two of them, and a few with Dawn as well.

"I will. Thank you." Together, he and Sam ascended the stairs, their shoulders rubbing. He held back at the last step, letting his wife proceed him. Upon reaching Buffy, Sam threaded her fingers through Buffy's again, the contact sending a shiver though both of them.

New relationship, everything was fresh and sharp, every sensation something to be treasured. Sam's smile was brilliant as Buffy led her down the hallway toward the bathroom. "See you in few, honey," she called over her shoulder.

Buffy made a detour to the linen closet for more towels, then the two women stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. She got her favorite shampoo and conditioner out of the cabinet under the sink and set them on the edge of the tub. "How hot do you like your showers, Sam?"

She tended to prefer her showers as hot as she could stand them, but she didn't want to scald Sam. Buffy had never inquired about Slayer temperature tolerances, so she had no real idea about the comparison between her preferences and other people's.

"Hot as you can get them," she replied, unbuttoning her top and shimmying out of her jeans. Sam was an aficionado of scalding showers, something she rarely indulged in. Mainly due to a lack of opportunity.

Buffy smiled, watching Sam undress. "Okay, one super-hot shower, coming up. "

She twisted the taps, setting the temperature right before pulling the curtain closed and switching the shower on. Standing up again, she pulled Riley's sweater over her head and let it join Sam's clothes on the floor. Steam was already beginning to float over the top of the shower curtain, silent evidence of the temperature of the water.

Stepping back, Buffy smiled and said, "After you..." with a half-bow and an over-dramatized sweep of her arm. But she couldn't quite smother the giggle.

"If you insist," Sam giggled as well. Formality she was used to with Ry, it was second nature to him. But coming from Buffy, who had an irreverent streak a mile wide, it was pretty funny.

She pulled the curtain back and stepped into the shower, hissing in appreciation of the heat. Just the safe side of boiling, her skin flushing dark red wherever it struck. She moved all the way under the spray, making room for Buffy. Her petite lover stepped into the tub and slid into her arms, pressing her head against Sam's shoulder with a soft, contented sigh.

Open and honest, no hint of awkwardness or regret. Just what Sam had hoped for. Her love for Buffy grew by leaps and bounds in those few seconds. Buffy had faced down her abusive ex, tossed him out on his ear and had every right to be hesitant about being with them. After the crap she'd been through, Sam was amazed that Buffy allowed anyone to touch her, let alone craved their touch.

****

Once more in Buffy's room, Riley undid the knot around his waist as he knelt on the floor. The towel came loose, covering his feet and his calves while he opened the drawer and sat back on his heels. There were a lot of his things in there, more than he'd expected. Sweaters and the sweat-pants and an old t-shirt from his under-grad days that he'd given her one night to sleep in. There was a pair of his boxers and when he picked them up, a silver bracelet fell out of them.

Strange the things that could make you want to cry. Riley held the delicate bangle in his hands, turning it over and over, rubbing the tiny agates that decorated the outer edge. He'd bought it for her as a six-month's anniversary present. There had been cheaper things in the case, ones that wouldn't have set him back so far that he'd ended up eating ramen for two weeks to balance out his budget, but the stones were the exact color of her eyes.

After a few moments, he set the bracelet aside. Riley planned on asking Buffy if she would wear it again. He understood why it was in a drawer, it was human nature to put away the things that make you hurt. And his leaving had hurt more than he'd ever imagined.

He pulled out the dark blue sweat-pants and the t-shirt, those he would wear. There were a few photographs underneath them. Pictures of him, of her with him and Dawn with both of them and that was understandable too. At least she hadn't thrown them away. Underneath the pile of sweaters, he spotted what looked like an envelope and he shifted them aside.

Envelope. Envelopes, actually. Bright pink and creamy yellow and off-white. Not a lot, probably a dozen, maybe two and they all had hand-written addresses. He picked one up and felt his chest tighten. It was addressed to him, in Buffy's curving hand. He riffled through the others - which were all addressed to him.

Most of them just had his name on the front, although a few of them were addressed in care of his congressman. She'd done a bit of research to come up with that. He turned the first one over in his hands and noticed the watermarks on it. Tearstains, the ink on the curve of the 'l' was smeared as was the 'y'.

Another watermark showed up right then, a fresh one and he wiped at his eyes. She'd written to him. Buffy had written to him. She'd never mailed them but it was the thought that counted. These were more telling of what he'd meant to her than just about anything.

Except for her confession about making it to the heli-pad just as he took off.

*****

Buffy snuggled against Sam, letting the hot water and her lover's embrace soothe away the tension and help her to relax. "Mmmm... would you mind if we just stayed like this for a while?" Her voice was soft, relaxed and content. She hadn't thought that she'd ever want to be so close to someone again... until Sam and Riley, when she found that she truly did. She wanted this, all of it.

But she had other motives for wanting to stay here, as well. If Riley actually looked through the drawer with his things in it, he'd find the letters. And he'd need some time to go through them, would probably want to do it alone. They'd been painful to write and would probably be painful to read. And afterward, she'd leave it up to him whether or not he wanted to show Sam.

"We can. At least until the water runs out." Gently, Sam ran her hands up and down Buffy's back, identifying where she was tense. She started close to the spine, halfway down, rubbing lightly and first and then harder as Buffy relaxed into the massage.

The water cascaded around them, Sam's height protecting Buffy from being struck in the face although it did tickle down, wetting her hair and her cheek. Content, Sam hummed to herself, some nameless tune she'd heard in one of their ports of call. Domestic bliss, quite the concept. She had that with Riley and now, she had that with Buffy as well.

****

The envelope wasn't sealed. He leaned back against the bed, resting with one knee raised and the foot tucked in against his body, the other one stretched out in front of him with the towel rucked up underneath it. Riley debated the wisdom of reading the letter, he wondered if Buffy wanted him to. She'd asked him to look in the drawer for his clothes but she hadn't specifically invited him to do that.

From the other room, he heard the shower running and imagined them in there. All sexual urges aside, it was an interesting mental picture. His lovely Sam and their beautiful Buffy, each of them exquisite in their own right. He was a lucky, lucky man.

Before he knew it, the letter was open and unfolded. He held it before him, still unsure whether he should read it but he knew there was no way he could resist. He'd take the consequences of his actions.

The letter was dated for two days after he'd left, and she'd put the time on it as well. 2:27am. It had been written initially because she couldn't sleep. 'Dear Riley,' it read.

I don't know how I'll ever get this to you... part of me still can't believe that you're gone. Even though I saw the helicopter lifting off, even though you never looked back to see me there. I wish I'd been faster, that I'd gotten there sooner. Or that Xander had found me earlier.

Xander told me that you're the "once in a lifetime" guy, but that I'd been treating you like the "rebound guy". He's probably right, too. I never meant to treat you badly or take you for granted. I care too much for that, even if I have trouble saying the words. I never told you that, did I? That I have problems with the word "love" because too many people have said they loved me and left anyway. It's been happening since I was Called.

I'm sorry, Riley. Truly sorry, for everything I've put you through. You gave up everything for me, and I was too afraid to accept it. And now that I know it, it's too late and you're gone. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my past. And I'm sorry I kept things from you now, in the past few months. If it helps any, though, it wasn't just you. I was keeping things from everyone. Including myself.

I wish I could tell you this in person. But I don't know if I will ever see you again, so writing it down will have to do. And if you ever do see this... then I'm glad, because maybe something turned out right after all.

Always yours,
Buffy'

Riley read it again and again, pouring over every word. His face was wet but he didn't care. The words blurred a couple of times and he had to blink to read them but he didn't care. She loved him, the letter didn't come right out and say it but it didn't have to.

It was a good thing she hadn't mailed it. If she had, he would've deserted - again. Would have begged, borrowed or stolen some way of getting back to her. If he'd done that, it probably still would have fallen apart. His addiction had been a hard thing to kick. Getting away from Sunnydale with its endless supply of fixes was a good idea.

He was back now. He was back and he was clean. And he brought Sam with him. Sam, who loved Buffy just as much as he did. They'd make a go of it and this time - they'd succeed.

*****

Buffy relaxed against Sam, enjoying the massage as Sam soothed away her aches with her hands and her soft humming. Finally feeling better, Buffy pulled back and grabbed the shampoo. She pulled Sam out of the spray of water and poured some shampoo into her own palm. Then she rubbed her hands together and started to wash Sam's hair for her. She had to stand on her toes, but she managed; gentle fingertips massaged the shampoo into long, dark hair.

She'd always loved the way it felt for someone else to wash or brush her hair for her. It was a very comforting thing, a feeling of being taken care of. Buffy wanted to make Sam feel that way, if she could.

"Mmmm. That feels nice." Sam leaned forward, giving Buffy better access. Such a dichotomy - Buffy was strong, inhumanly strong and yet, she was the gentlest person Sam had ever met. She closed her eyes as Buffy worked the lather in, then led her back under the spray to wash it out. Once her hair was rinsed and conditioned, Sam returned the favor.

She washed Buffy's hair, then her body. Touching her and turning her and making sure every surface was cared for. The nape of her neck, between each finger, the curve of her hip, behind her knees and finally her toes. Kneeling in front of her, Sam wrapped her arms around Buffy's waist and rested her head against the soft rise of her belly. "I love you," she murmured, her voice barely audible above the rush of the water.

Buffy wrapped her arms around Sam, fingers resting on her back. She swayed lightly on her feet, rocking them both in a comforting way. "I know," she replied in the same barely audible tone. "You too." It was the best she could do, for now. But she would learn, someday. She would. She would work at it for as long as it took.

****

He read the next letter and the next and the next. They detailed most of the things she'd talked about last night. Dawn and Glory. Spike and the Buffybot, and that was an image that made him regret not staking the vamp on principle alone. Her fears, her hopes and her dreams were all poured out on paper. The hardest one to read was written about three days after her mom died.

Unlike the others, the letter wasn't addressed. It just started right in. The very first thing on the page said, 'I need you, Riley. Help me... help me, please.'

The ink was splattered and smudged and he had to work hard to make out some of the words. She begged him to come home, begged him to come back and make the pain go away. Begged him to bring her mommy back. Choked with tears, Riley had to set it aside, lest he ruin it more. He'd left Buffy because he thought she didn't love him, that she didn't need him. God, how she'd needed him then.

The guilt was creeping back in and along with it the doubts he'd felt and his fears. Riley felt a tingle in his arm and he looked down to find that he was stroking one of the bite-scars with his thumb. Not good. So not good.

He had things he needed to do. Namely a phone call that he needed to make. But he couldn't bring himself to move. The letter he held clutched in his hand hurt too much, far too much.

A few more minutes, he'd sit there for a few more minutes and then he'd get up. Get up and get dressed and call Drum. Take care of what he should have taken care of instead of getting lost in Spike's machinations. If he'd been there when Joyce died, Buffy would have had an easier time of it.

****

Against her back, the water was starting to cool. "We probably should get out soon," Buffy murmured. "And Riley's been awfully quiet. I think...” She didn't complete the thought, but she was pretty sure he'd found her letters.

"He's probably downstairs talking to Drum. But, yeah, we should get out." Rising to her feet, Sam looked at her fingers and smiled, ruefully. "Starting to turn into a prune."

That comment drew a worried giggle from Buffy as she shut off the water. The showerhead dripped and Sam eyed it critically. "Probably need to change a washer in there. Do you have tools?" Minor plumbing repairs she could manage and Riley was pretty good with them too. Between the two of them, they could fix just about anything.

"Tools? Yeah, in the basement somewhere. If I don't have what you need, Xander probably does. He's good with that stuff too." Buffy grabbed a towel and handed it to Sam, then grabbed another for herself. She dried off her feet and legs before stepping out of the tub and wrapping the towel around herself. "I need to get some clean clothes from my room. Do you need anything?" Sam shook her head, and Buffy smiled. "Okay, see you in a few."

Towel tucked around her body, Buffy slipped out of the bathroom and padded softly down the hall to her bedroom. As she'd thought, Riley was still in there. A letter clutched in his hand, but he didn't appear to be reading it. Just staring. She knelt beside him on the floor and brushed the remnants of tears off his cheek. "Riley?" she whispered softly.

He shuddered, drawing a quick breath and sitting up straighter. "Buffy... Hey." He folded up the letter and set it aside before looking up at her. Sorrow, thick and heavy lay in his leaden gaze.

Riley didn't need to say anything; he couldn't say anything. That letter shook him to his foundations, laid his sin bare for the world to see. All he could do was look at her, at the girl he'd abandoned.

She studied him for a long minute; then without a word she opened her arms and pulled him close. He needed her now as much as she'd needed him then. She'd caught a glance at the letter before he set it down; she'd forgotten about that one and regretted that he'd found it.

"I'm sorry. I was pretty hysterical when I wrote that. I'd forgotten it was in there with the others... I almost threw it away." Soft words, gentle tone, as soothing as she knew how to be. She ran her fingers through his hair over and over again. There wasn't much in most of the letters that she hadn't told him about last night. But there were a few that hinted about things in the past that he needed to know. But there would be time for that later. She needed to calm him down, for now.

"You needed me and I wasn't there. I wasn't there." the words were spoken into her shoulder, self-loathing evident in every syllable. "He's right. I abandoned you. Left you to your fate because I was weak." Riley shuddered for a moment or two, struggling for control. No need to explain who he meant, no need at all.

"No," soft voice laced with strength and admiration. "You weren't weak. You were strong enough to walk away from a life-threatening situation. You were strong enough to save yourself and turn your life around. You're the example I'm following now. He wasn't right, and he didn't win."

Buffy shook her head, brushing his hair off his forehead. "My fate was my fate, regardless of who was here with me. You were safe and happy elsewhere, and I don't grudge you that. I never will. And whether or not it was my fate, I'm here, aren't I? Here again, with you. It's not your fault, Riley. It's not."

Riley thought about her words, thought long and hard. When she pulled back to look at him, his eyes were downcast - shuttered and dark. He knew she was right, he knew it but it didn't ease the pain much or the bitterness.

She'd lost her mother and he couldn't imagine that. Couldn't fathom the idea of a world without his mother in it. Joyce had been a fine woman and she'd raised two wonderful daughters, mainly by herself. He admired her for that, for sticking by Buffy despite the hell that her Calling had made of her life. Joyce had always been there... now it was his turn.

To always be there.

He looked up at her and the cloud lifted a little. Decision made already but reaffirmed. He'd be there for Buffy and for Dawn. For as long as they needed him. And he knew Sam would do the same. She was cut from the same cloth - loyalty was second nature, it was like breathing.

Buffy cupped his chin in her palm and kissed him softly. "No regrets. If you hadn't left, you'd never have met Sam... and I'm happy with the way things are. What happened, happened. All we can do now is move forward. Together. Okay?"

"No regrets," he echoed, his hands combing through her damp hair. She was alive and warm and beautiful. And his. Again. "Together. All of us."

At Buffy's nod, Riley smiled and the rest of his melancholy melted away. He released her, pushing up off the floor as she moved back. The bright silver of the bracelet caught his eye and he scooped it up, narrowly missed bumping into Buffy as she stood. They eyed each other and Riley was the first to laugh. "Okay, so our coordination isn't always perfect."

His laughter was contagious and she began to laugh with him. "Okay, maybe not always. But we're still darn good." She considered the letters scattered on the floor around where he'd been sitting. "You can keep them, if you want, or else just put them back. They were meant for you, but if you want to show them to Sam, that's okay too."

She didn't have anything to hide from either of them; they knew what she'd done her lowest and still loved her. There wasn't anything worse that she could tell them. Well, worse, maybe, but nothing that she'd done that was worse. Some bad things had happened to her, but Spike was definitely the lowest she'd ever fallen.

"I think I'll put them away for awhile. Lot of things to deal with." Riley wanted to read them, wanted to read every one of them. Read them when he had Buffy and Sam in his arms so he'd know they were real. That he wasn't out in the bush somewhere, reading letters written by a dead girl.

He was immensely grateful that Willow and company hadn't found the letters and shipped them off to him with some misguided notion that they were honoring Buffy's last wishes. If he'd gotten them right after she'd died, the results would have been disastrous. That was pre-Sam and he knew what would have happened.

One of the things that had kept him going during those months was the knowledge, that while she didn't love him, he loved her. For a brief period of time, he'd basked in her light and been something to her, to his personal hero. Had he known that light had been snuffed out, his own will to live would have flickered and died.

First vamp or demon or whatever that would have been strong enough or willing to kill him, he would have sought that. Eagerly.

*****

 
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