// indicates thought

*****

SOUTHEASTERN ARIZONA
0120 HOURS

Newly appointed Second Lieutenant Graham Miller leaned back against the solid loam wall of the old pueblo he'd chosen as cover for his team and closed his eyes, resting for a minute. He couldn't afford to go to sleep, not yet. They still had to clean out the rest of the minions, get down into the large kiva the bloodsuckers were guarding, and keep an ancient vampire god from rising.

Just another day at work.

Sometimes, when he allowed himself to think about the turns his life had taken recently, he could barely believe that only four months before he'd been ready to call it quits. And not because he'd been fighting for his life in a high tech cave under UC Sunnydale, watching the Initiative get just about annihilated in front of his eyes, but because afterwards one man had politely asked him to get out of his life.

He clenched his jaws. Experience showed that thinking about Riley Finn during a mission was generally a bad idea. It put him into a state of mind that scared even his men. They needed their commander to be cool and controlled, not an ounce of stubbornness away from suicidal. He'd gained their respect and their loyalty and was determined not to betray their trust. They were working in a dangerous job, they couldn't afford any distractions.

And still he couldn't keep from thinking about his former CO. Even though he hadn't seen his friend since the Battle of Lowell House, somehow Riley's ghost seemed to be with him where ever he went, whatever he did. At night his body ached with helpless want, longing for the familiar touch of large, rough hands. He could think of Riley when he touched himself, could try to take the edge of the hunger that threatened to overwhelm him at times, but even when he managed to come, there wasn't even the solace of brief satisfaction. It was just a painful reminder that Riley wasn't there; would probably never be there again.

He almost lost his friend to Adam, then had lost him to the Slayer. And yet, try as he might, he couldn't find it in him to regret falling in love with Riley. He'd known from the start there was no way Riley would ever love him back. He'd known he'd get hurt, though he'd had no idea just how much, but it had still been worth it. He'd never known love before he'd met Riley. All the pain could never outweigh that experience.

SUNNYDALE, CALIFORNIA
FOUR MONTHS BEFORE

Graham helped pull the last survivor out of the elevator shaft. Then he assisted the young man who'd worked side by side with him carry the injured soldier into the common room. They laid him down in a corner. Graham waved one of the surviving medics over and tried not to look at the wound he'd tied off with the man's belt. He remembered all too well the sight of the white-faced demon trying to suck the marrow right out of the screaming soldier's bone.

Riley was leaning against a wall at the other side of the room. He looked like he'd been through hell, pale and sweaty and still bleeding from a wound just below his left shoulder. Graham was halfway over to him, his emotions alternating between concern and relief, when from the corner of an eye he caught movement at the top of the stairs. Knowing that he'd been the last one to leave the underground complex, he grabbed the first weapon he happened to find -- a double-bladed battle axe one of the Slayer's friends must've brought -- and threw it, neatly decapitating the demon.

He swore silently at his own sloppiness. He should've known the demons that survived the combined attack of the Slayer and the remaining Initiative soldiers were going to follow the humans out of the compound as soon as they managed to gather their wits.

Since no one else seemed in any condition to take command, Graham ordered half a dozen men to grab their gear and follow him. They obeyed without a question, though their haunted eyes betrayed their fear. He supposed he would've been the same if he hadn't been so emotionally burnt out from the events of the past few days. Things being as they were, all he felt was a strangely distant numbness under a thin layer of cold calculation.

He led the men up the stairs, killing a vampire on his way to the elevator shaft, then glanced down into the darkness. Only his quick reflexes saved him from getting sliced open by a huge, taloned hand. He jerked back and kicked out. His boot connected with something large and solid; the demon lost its grip and fell, pulling two other creatures with him. However, the impact was cushioned by the sheer number of bodies crowding the shaft.

Graham took in the sight with emotionless eyes. "Grenade," he ordered. One of the soldiers handed an Initiative special issue grenade over. He took it, checked the fuse, then pulled the pin and dropped the explosive device into the chaos below. "Fire in the hole," he bellowed and they all sprinted away, putting their hands over their ears.

The explosion shook the house. Plaster rained from the ceiling, but the walls of the elevator shaft had been built to withstand a possible attack and held fast. The major part of the blast went through the basement entrance, though the shockwave was still enough to bring the elevator cabin and parts of the ceiling crashing down.

Graham was the first to get to his feet after the dull roar in his head had receded a bit. He stumbled back to the opening, but had to wait until the dust had settled before he could study his handiwork. He smiled faintly at the sight of the huge pile of rubble blocking the shaft. There were bits and pieces of demons splattered all over the place. Whatever hadn't been killed by the blast had been crushed by the steel and cement parts. The only way anything was getting up that way was for it to dig itself through a ton of debris, and there was nothing strong enough to do that left in the complex.

********************

Two weeks later, he testified for Riley in a military court. He didn't manage to get them to give Riley a medal for bravery, but his testimony was enough to reestablish his friend's integrity.

Afterwards, he was approached by a tall, stern looking officer, who introduced himself as Major Jake Ellis. As it turned out, the major was in the process of assembling a special unit of demon-hunters called the PRD -- the Preternatural Research & Defense division -- and was looking for experienced men. Somebody had told him about Graham's part in what was already becoming known as the Battle of Lowell House, and he'd been so impressed by the reports he wanted Graham as his primary field leader. Graham was wary of the offer -- the Initiative had taught him a hard lesson, and the wounds were still fresh -- but he agreed to meet with Ellis and listen to what he had to say.

Truth was, he didn't want to decide before he'd talked to Riley. So he sat outside the courtroom and waited patiently until the tribunal was done grilling his friend. The debriefing took longer than he'd anticipated. By the time Riley left the room, looking slightly dazed, Graham was on the verge of barging in and asking if they wanted him to hand in the fucking story in book form. Luckily, Riley came out before Graham lost his iron grip on his temper.

"Hey," he said, careful to keep his tone neutral.

Riley looked at him, clearly astonished. "Hey." He blinked. "They didn't kick me out," he marveled. "They just kinda swept the whole deserting thing under the carpet. It's... I can't believe they..." He stopped there, searching for words.

Graham couldn't help it, he grinned broadly. "I knew they'd see reason," he said.

"Yeah. I heard you were pretty vehement in your defense of me," Riley grinned. "I didn't realize you'd go in there singing my praise."

Graham shrugged self-consciously. "What else could I do?" He was slightly taken aback that Riley seemed so surprised at his support. Had he thought Graham would do anything other than fight for him?

Riley mirrored his movement, then winced when the wound on his chest protested. "I don't know," he admitted. "I was just...forget it. Want to go grab a bite?"

The Marine nodded quietly and fell in step with his former CO. In silent agreement they left the building and headed for the park and the little deli they'd discovered on the other side of the green during lunch break.

Graham was uncharacteristically nervous. He knew he had to talk to Riley about what was between them, but he was hesitant. If he hadn't decided to approach the matter after the debriefing, he probably would've kept quiet, but this was his final deadline. He'd had other opportunities before, but he'd chickened out. However, he knew that this was the best chance he was likely to get. They were alone, away from Sunnydale and the town's particular...distractions. The Initiative didn't exist anymore. Riley was relaxed and out of danger for the first time in weeks, and so was Graham. It was just before dark, so the park was all but deserted. Nobody would hear them talk.

So after a couple of minutes worth of gathering courage, Graham forced his jaws to unclench and glanced at Riley. "I got an offer to join a new preternatural defense squad."

Riley raised an eyebrow. "That Major Ellis guy?"

"Yep. Same one."

"So, are you going to do it?" Riley asked, attempting to sound casual. As usual when trying to fake disinterest, he failed pitifully. Sometimes Graham wondered how the man had ever managed to get through covert ops training.

"I don't know. I didn't have enough time yet to check up on the guy and his new unit, but from what I heard so far the deal seems up and up. Ellis has a good reputation. He's a soldier's soldier. No fanatic, no fool. No Dr. Frankenstein wannabe."

"That's certainly a plus," Riley noted dryly.

Graham's brow crinkled in amusement. "Definitely." They were quiet for a while. Then Graham offered tentatively, "I was kinda thinking that if this turns out an okay affair, maybe we could both join. We could use a change of location. And I...you...you mean a lot to me."

//Coward.//

He could sense Riley tense beside him and risked another quick glance. His heart sank. Riley looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Listen, Gray, I know I...we did...and it was great! I mean, it was the best I...*you* were the best I ever...but..." His voice trailed off. He carded a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture that didn't bode well for what was coming next.

Something deep down in Graham cringed in agony. He didn't want to hear the words. He didn't need to. Knowing Riley like nobody else did, all he had to do was look into his friend's eyes and he knew the gist of it. Riley was going to stay in Sunnydale. Not because of the Initiative or the Hellmouth, but because of Buffy. Because the big fool was still confusing loyalty with love.

He raised a hand, cutting off the stumbling explanation with a single word. "Don't." Their eyes met and Graham made sure to keep the hurt hidden, showing only the mask he'd forged in the fires of pain past. "Be careful in Sunnydale," he said. "I won't be there to watch your six."

Riley's hand reached out, fingers trailing gently down Graham's rigid face. "Are you sure? You could come back with me."

For a moment he was angry, then furious. He wondered if Riley had any idea what he was demanding. How goddamn selfish his suggestion was. He had to fight to keep the rage out of his voice, with the result that his answer was like ice turned into words. "I will be your friend until the day I die, Riley. I will be there whenever you need me. But I will not be your whore."

Riley jerked back as if he'd been slapped. His face colored. "I didn't mean...I didn't think..."

"Damn right. You didn't think." Graham's anger dissolved slowly when he saw the expression in his friend's eyes. Of course the idiot hadn't meant it the way it had sounded. It didn't excuse his thoughtlessness. It just made it more difficult for Graham to defend himself against his hopeless attraction. He took a step back, suddenly desperate to get some space between himself and the man who had the power to destroy him completely. "I'll contact you when I know what I'm going to do," he said roughly. "Take care of yourself, man."

He turned to walk away, but Riley's voice stopped him dead in his tracks. "Gray."

Inwardly, he moaned. How could it be that this one guy had so much power over him that all he had to do was say Graham's name and all chances of a dignified retreat evaporated? Then Riley's hand was on his arm, pulling him around, and instead of shaking him off and leaving -- which would've been the smart thing to do -- he allowed it; let Riley stop him, draw him close, kiss him.

And for the duration of that kiss, all was right with the world.

His arms came up as if on their own volition, wrapping around the tall, strong body in front of him, holding him in an embrace that would've crushed a smaller man. He was just careful not to put too much pressure on the healing wound on Riley's chest. His tongue pushed against his lover's lips and was admitted instantly. He closed his eyes and deepened the kiss.

Riley's taste always drove him crazy. He was addicted to the heady flavor, so hot and spicy and, well, Riley. Sometimes it was as if he could taste the sun through his lover's mouth, and he basked in the life-giving warmth. So what if he got burnt occasionally? He could handle it.

Standing pressed against Riley was like leaning against a desert rock, all heat and hardness. The combination of the tip of the Iowan's tongue lazily stroking the roof of his mouth and the growing bulge of Riley's cock rubbing against his own throbbing member was almost too much sensation. It made his skin sensitive, crying for more. His heart was hammering against his ribcage painfully, obviously as eager to join with Riley as the rest of him.

Add to that the familiar musky smell that was tickling his nostrils, teasing him, arousing him past the point of reason, and he had to struggle with the urge to lower his head to Riley's shoulder and bite down, just hard enough to mark his mate. It was tempting. Riley'd think twice about sleeping with Buffy when carrying Graham's imprint.

It was an effort to behave. He couldn't do it. He didn't have the right. He also couldn't rip off Riley's clothes and make love with the man on the spot, though he was getting aroused enough to seriously consider dragging his lover into the bushes and going for his pants there.

Then Riley's lips left his to trace a blazing trail over his jaw and down to his throat, and his head cleared just enough to make him realize they were standing in a public park, hidden from view only by a couple of trees and bushes and the growing darkness. Fuck. Or rather, not. They were one passer-by away from getting lots of unwanted attention.

The thought cooled him down enough to make him scratch together what was left of his self-control and step out of the circle of Riley's arms. At least Riley looked as dazed and frustrated as he felt. It was good to see that he wasn't the only one who seemed to lose every higher brain-function once they started touching. Graham drank in the sight of his lover standing in the twilight, dress-uniform rumpled, panting, hazel eyes clouded with passion; imprinted the picture into his memory. He knew he wouldn't see Riley again for a long time.

He walked away, bleeding inside, but dry-eyed.

It was the most difficult thing he'd ever done.

SOUTHEASTERN ARIZONA
0142 HOURS

"Sir, we've got a tag on the master sucker."

Graham opened his eyes, snapping back into the present. "Is she active yet?"

The soldier -- Brown, Graham remembered, Matthew Brown -- shook his head. He was a young guy, only twenty-one, but he already had the jaded eyes of a veteran. They all did. Graham was leading a Search and Destroy unit. You either learned the ropes pretty damn fast, or you died. Demons were a dangerous lot. So were the PRD soldiers.

"Call Grant," Graham ordered, grabbing his gear. "Give him the HST's location. We're going in."

"Yes, sir!" Brown saluted and disappeared through the narrow doorway to alert the rest of the team.

They were about to take on the largest group of master vampires Graham had ever seen outside of Sunnydale. If they weren't fast enough, they'd also have to face a being a hundred times stronger than any vampire. Chances were, they'd all be dead come sunrise. He found himself smiling savagely. His unit was famous for defying the odds.

//Not going to die today, Ri// he thought. //We're not finished yet.//

He got to his feet in a smooth, powerful movement and went to join his team.

The End