Spike did a passable imitation of Sylvester the cat, all but hanging on his claws from the ceiling. Graham flinched and couldn't suppress a yelp of pain when the vampire's cock was torn out of his body, yet too weakened to do much more than move in front of Riley, instinctively trying to protect him from whatever the Hellmouth was throwing at them now. Riley almost jumped out of his skin, going for a weapon that wasn't there, because he'd left it downstairs with his jacket.

When his mind finally hooked onto the fact that the person in the doorway was blond, petite, and definitely lacking in tentacles and dripping fangs, he recovered quickly, snagging the covers and throwing them over his lover to shield him from Buffy's incredulous stare. Graham tried to get up, but Riley held him down with a hand on his shoulder, gently settling him on his lap. The Marine sank down and rested his head against Riley's thigh without so much as a token protest, which told his CO a lot about his condition.

Having taken care of Graham, Riley concentrated on his girlfriend, only to find her engaged in a shouting match with everybody's favorite vampire, Spike. He should have been surprised at Spike's readiness to cover for them, taking on the Slayer in order to give Riley a little time to get ready for the confrontation, but he wasn't.

He'd seen the way Spike had treated Graham, the gentleness bordering on tenderness, and he remembered what Buffy had told him about Drusilla, and how Spike had cherished and protected his mad lover even through years of sickness and rejection. He had the feeling that this particular vampire was deep down an extremely loyal, considerate creature, willing to go to any lengths to keep his loved ones safe. Of course, why he had included Graham into this very small, exclusive circle was another question, one that Riley didn't know the answer to...yet.

However, helpful or not, if Spike ever tried to take Graham away from Riley, he'd dust him in a heartbeat.

Judging from Buffy's facial expression she was contemplating doing the same thing, if for different reasons. Her voice had lowered to that almost disinterested casualness that meant she was at her most dangerous, and Spike was clever enough not to push it. Lifting his hands in a placating gesture he stepped aside, shooting Riley a quick look that clearly said: "Sorry, mate, you're on your own now. Good luck." Then he grabbed his pants and his duster and headed out through the door...or what was left of it.

Buffy ignored him, her gaze locking first on Graham, who eyed her warily with tired, haunted eyes, then on Riley, who returned her stare evenly.

"Riley, what's going on here?" she asked, struggling for calm.

Riley frowned a little. "Didn't Giles tell you?"

"Tell me what?" she demanded, her voice rising. "I was looking for you this evening, but you weren't at the dorm, and nobody knew where you were! Then I tried to find Willow, and she was gone, too! I searched the whole campus for the two of you before I came here! I opened the door and there was this scream, and then you were yelling and...and...WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!" Again she looked at Graham. "Please tell me it's not what it looks like!"

Riley felt Graham stiffen and draped an arm over his side, pulling him closer. "If it looked like me and Spike having sex with Graham, then it's true."

Buffy blinked. Stared. Blinked again. "I thought you were joking when you said you were a lesbian."

For a second Riley had no idea what she was talking about, then he remembered the incident when she'd found him helping to hang up that Lesbian Alliance poster. Suddenly he had to fight very hard not to break down into hysterical giggles. No. Bad Riley. Soldiers don't giggle. Wasn't that even a law or something? So, no giggles. But if Graham didn't stop sniggering at once, he'd have to do something drastic.

//Like what?// his inner voice asked. //Like kissing him senseless in front of your soon-to-be ex-girlfriend?// He thought about it. //For starters// he answered himself. The little voice -- most likely his libido -- did the mental equivalent of a little happy dance.

"I WAS joking when I said I was a lesbian," he told her.

Buffy heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, good." She paused. "Wait. That still doesn't explain why you...YOU WERE REALLY HAVING SEX WITH GRAHAM?!"

She was either in shock or a little slow this evening. Considering the situation he gave her the benefit of the doubt and opted for the first. "Yes," he said calmly. "I was." He checked Graham's temperature and frowned. "And it seems like I'm going to do it again pretty soon. He's still not entirely out of the woods."

Buffy, who had opened her mouth to say something, shut it again and for the first time really looked at the soldier. "He looks like crap," she noted.

Riley glared at her on Graham's behalf. "What do you expect? He's sick."

Buffy closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, a gesture so characteristic of Giles he had to bite down a laugh. Obviously the Watcher's little quirks were catching after a time.

"Okay," she said, determined to get to the bottom of what was happening. "Time out. I think I'm missing something here. You. Riley. Commando guy. My boyfriend. You are having sex with Graham. Also commando guy. Not my boyfriend. Who is sick. Why? -- And I want the whole story, except for the part with Spike. That was just too gross."

As if on cue, Spike returned, dragging a flustered Giles along and looking determined. He pushed the Watcher into Buffy's direction and snarled.

"Giles, explain. Riley, sex. Now."

Graham, in his tired and confused state of mind, promptly misunderstood and growled a warning. "Mine."

"Yes," Riley confirmed quietly. "Always."

Spike didn't even try to suppress an exasperated sigh. "As if I was going to have sex with Hayseed."

Buffy pulled a face. "Now that's a picture I could live without. Giles, what is going on here?"

Giles opened his mouth, ready to launch into one of his longer lectures, but a wild, yellow glare from Spike made him reconsider this idea. "Maybe we should talk downstairs," he suggested.

"Yeah, sod off," the vampire agreed.

Unfortunately, Buffy reacted badly to that particular tone of voice. She planted her feet and crossed her arms in front of her chest, scowling fiercely. "I won't leave this room before I know why everybody here has completely lost their mind! Riley!"

Riley reluctantly tore his lips away from Graham's and looked up. "Yes?"

"Stop doing that!"

"This would be a good time to have a nice, calming cup of tea," Giles decided. "Buffy, please come with me. Spike, Riley...uhm...do what's necessary."

"Tea?" Buffy repeated, aghast. "This is so not the time to drink tea! This is...they are..."

"Running out of time," Spike reminded Riley grimly. "These continuos interruptions might kill him yet. We soddin' need to keep him stimulated!"

"What are you talking about?" the Slayer yelled.

Spike ignored her, already opening his pants and moving towards the bed. "No time to fool around. Just hold him and don't let him panic."

Riley looked down at Graham, who had started to shiver again, and clenched his jaws. The Marine didn't appear to be in the shape to panic, let alone be taken again. His usually keen eyes were hazy and half-closed, fixed on Riley's face, and far too dull. Every instinct in Riley screamed at him to protect his friend, to let him sleep, but since that wasn't an option he simply wrapped his arms around the sweat-slicked torso and held his lover in a tight embrace.

He heard Spike drop his pants and climb onto the bed, but he didn't look, though he saw from the corner of his eye how the vampire spread Graham's legs and moved between them. A part of him dimly registered Buffy's appalled: "Tea. Giles, did you say something about tea? 'Cause I have this sudden craving for something normal...", but the major part was focused on Graham.

If he hadn't been all but wrapped around his lover, he wouldn't even have noticed him flinch when Spike entered his body in one smooth, gliding stroke. There was a faint echo of old terror in Graham's gray eyes, but he didn't fight, didn't even tense much this time.

Riley could tell that Spike was trying to be careful. Once he was sheathed completely, he was taking it slow, using short, shallow strokes so as not to hurt Graham. At this point, though, his efforts were pretty much in vain. Graham was too sore and exhausted to take much pleasure from the act. His body reacted only due to the demon's lingering influence, releasing a flood of endorphins to ease the pain of the intrusion. He moaned silently and lifted his hips to accommodate Spike, sighing in gratitude when the vampire took hold of his hips and supported him.

Spike was gasping from the struggle not to go faster, and Riley felt a twinge of reluctant respect in the face of his self-control. He remembered only too clearly how it felt to be encased in the seductive tightness of Graham's ass, what an incredible turn-on it was to see this powerful man on his back, to be the one to fuck him. It wasn't only the gorgeous body, or the dark, breathy moans that seemed to seep right into your soul -- it was the way Graham reacted to every touch, the way he seemed to reach out even when holding completely still, transforming even the most vicious fucking into something more, something beautiful. Something like making love.

//Maybe// Riley thought while he held Graham and watched the supposedly evil vampire fighting his own need to make it easier for his lover //that's what made all those demons want him so badly. Maybe they could see what Walsh couldn't. Maybe that's why they never hurt him on purpose, even though some of them were so huge they could've fucked him to death if they wanted.//

Now there was a frightening thought.

*****
Part 14:

Since Spike was being as careful as he possibly could, it took him a lot longer than the last time to reach climax, and when he came it seemed strangely reluctant, as if he didn't want to let go. As if he didn't want it to end. He didn't change into his 'gameface' either, though Riley could've sworn he'd done so the first time.

Graham didn't come, but neither did he shy away when Spike suddenly leaned forward, draping his slim, cool body over Graham's compact, hot form. After a moment's hesitation, the Marine's arms came up and around the vampire's shoulders in an awkward hug.

Riley watched quietly, gently stroking his friend's hair, sensing that he was witnessing something special, something that had nothing -- or at least not much -- to do with sexx. Spike wasn't trying to take Graham away from him, or mock him, or feed off him. There was something else going on, and even though he had no idea what, he knew instinctively that it wasn't his place to intervene.

They stayed like this for what felt like a small eternity, though actually it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Graham was a warm, oddly familiar weight in Riley's arms; heavy, but far too precious to let go of. His tired eyes were half-closed and still locked on Riley's face, even while he held the vampire in a loose embrace. Spike had buried his face against his broad chest, holding on to the soldier as if his un-life depended on it, yet once again careful not to hurt the human.

And again Riley couldn't help but wonder if maybe this was what had drawn the demons to Graham. He'd watched almost a dozen of the video files, until he had to stop or run amok, and in retrospect he couldn't help but notice that not one of the demons and vampires Walsh had let loose on Graham had tried to hurt him. They had fucked him, yes, some of them hard, but they could have done much worse. He'd been completely vulnerable, and Riley knew from experience that none of the soldiers could've moved fast enough to prevent...say...the Ta'rkeen demon from plunging its horns into the unprotected belly in front of it, or the loup garou from burying its teeth into the exposed flesh.

Graham could've been killed or seriously wounded in a hundred different ways, but not a single creature had so much as growled at him.

Riley was not usually given to contemplation. He left the theorizing to people who were good at it, preferring the security of hard facts to the uncertain conclusions his mind could come up with. But staring at a centuries old bloodsucker snuggled against a very mortal young man, looking for all the world like a child seeking refuge in his parent's arms, made him speculate that maybe, just maybe, something about his friend was...making the monsters feel less like monsters.

It didn't work all the time, evidently -- after all they'd been in more than one fight against all kinds of creatures and as far as he could tell they'd mostly done their damnedest to kill them all, Graham included. Maybe it had something to do with Graham being naked, or Graham being vulnerable, or Graham offering himself...he didn't know, and he felt extremely uncomfortable thinking about it.

So he didn't.

He sat on the bed, holding his best friend and silently thanking God for finally making him see what he had in Graham. If he'd reacted a little slower, or listened to Forrest and not stepped in, he would've lost him. And he would have spent the rest of his life trying to mend the bleeding hole ripped into his soul by Graham's death. Knowing himself he wouldn't even have realized it. He was fairly good at denial when he set his mind to it.

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

Spike let go after a minute or two, embarrassed as hell and trying very hard to regain his cool. He moved away a bit, sitting on the bed beside Graham, and reached for his pants.

"You're a pretty good lay, soldier boy," he said with an attempt of his usual sneer, only to lose it again when he looked into Graham's face. His eyes softened. He cleared his throat, fidgeted, then suddenly developed a heretofore undiscovered interest in pastel-colored sheets. "Thank you," he mumbled, very quickly and very quietly.

Graham closed his eyes and leaned against Riley, chuckling wearily. "You're welcome."

Spike nodded jerkily, trying very hard to hide the smile lighting his face, then decided to beat a strategic retreat. He slid off the bed and put on his pants, keeping his gaze averted the whole time. When he was more or less dressed, he stopped, duster in hand.

"He's almost free now," he told the floor. "One last go is all it needs. I think that honor belongs to you, Hayseed." He cleared his throat, finally looking at Riley. "Be good to him," he said.

Riley nodded mutely. Spike turned abruptly, but stopped again at the door. When he met Riley's gaze this time, his eyes were definitely blazing yellow. "Oh, I almost forgot: if you hurt him, I'll arrange for your exceptionally slow and extremely painful death. Have a nice night."

Then he was gone.

Riley blinked. Had Spike just verbally expressed concern towards Graham? More than that, had he just threatened Riley with bodily harm should he ever hurt his lover? And did he really want to know why?

//Nope// his inner voice piped up once again. //You don't want to know. You so do not want to know Spike's motives. You will not, under any circumstances, try to understand an evil vampire. Or any other kind of vampire. Or any other kind of monster. You hear me, Finn?//

This talking to himself thing was certainly starting to become a bad habit. He shook himself, banished Spike and his strange behavior from his thoughts, and concentrated on Graham, who was hanging on to consciousness by the skin of his teeth.

"Did you hear that?" he asked with a forced smile. "Only one more time, then you're out of the woods."

Graham closed his eyes. "Fine. Go ahead. Wake me up when it's time to come."

Riley raised an eyebrow. "Well, thank you very much. I didn't know having sex with me was that boring."

One eye opened again, nailing him with a baleful look. "Ri, I started the day getting raped by a cat-demon, then Walsh made me catch up on our reports, then I nearly died from a supernatural fever, only to be saved by getting fucked within an inch of my life by my best friend and a neutered HST. I'm sore, I'm tired, and the cum drying on my skin itches like hell. Gimme a break, will you?"

"No can do," Riley said quietly. "Not until I'm sure you're going to make it."

His voice betraying a weariness that had nothing to do with the evening's activities, Graham whispered, "Why bother?"

Riley froze. "What?"

"I can't return to the Initiative, Ri," Graham explained. "I can't work under Walsh after what happened. Can't work with Forrest. And even if I could -- as messed up as I am at the moment, I'd probably end up getting you killed. No way I'm going to risk that. So what am I going to do? I'm a soldier, Ri. This is all I know. If I can't do this any more, what's left for me?"

Damn. Riley had hoped they could have this discussion later, when Graham was safe and rested. They didn't have the time for this now. So instead of answering, he leaned down and captured Graham's lips with his own, trying to put all his feelings into his kiss.

Graham didn't react at first, holding himself still and unresponsive, but when Riley's tongue stroked gently along his lips, seeking entrance, he relented with a sound that was part sigh and part moan, opening his mouth in wordless invitation. Riley would've smiled, except he was too mesmerized by the way Graham's breath ghosted over his skin. He took a second to savor the musky, male tang of his lover's scent, then dove in for an even more intimate taste, languidly mapping every nook and niche of Graham's mouth, tasting, teasing, tempting. So good. Addictive.

His hands traveled over Graham's chest and abdomen, touching him, caressing him, methodically arousing him. He didn't seem to be able to get enough of this man; he felt so unbelievably right. Almost as if they'd been made for each other.

He could tell the exact moment when Graham shook off his pain and exhaustion and decided to participate. One hand cradled the back of his head, holding him firmly in place, while another hand grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on something thick and long and hard that was getting even harder when he wrapped his fingers around it.

This time he did smile, his own body reacting emphatically to Graham's arousal. He ran his fingers lightly over the head of Graham's cock, swallowing the gasp caused by his action, then started to stroke the straining length, loving the feel of satiny skin and throbbing hardness. Graham's tongue lost its sureness as he got increasingly distracted by Riley's exploration of his genitals, which of course prompted his lover to slide his hand further between his legs.

When Riley had to come up for air, he was treated to the sight of Graham arched across his thighs, thrusting slowly into his hand and baring his throat in a not-so-subtle hint. More than willing to please him, Riley kissed the tender skin just beneath his jaw, then continued to lick and nibble his way down the pulsing jugular to the hollow beneath Graham's throat. His own erection was pressing insistently against the Marine's back, and he groaned deeply when Graham started to tense and relax his back-muscles, rubbing himself against the hard shaft.

He didn't even notice that he'd started to tease and massage the area around Graham's opening until the man moved his hips and impaled himself on his fingers, moaning in a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Aww, shit, I'm sore," Graham hissed, but didn't stop his movements. "Ri, if you wanna fuck me, now would be a good time."

Riley kissed him, quickly maneuvering them until he was stretched atop his supine lover, his cock pressed against the willing hole, but he didn't enter him at once. There was something he had to say before they did this.

"Not going to fuck you, lover," he whispered into Graham's ear. "Going to make love to you."

Graham's eyes widened. He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a choked cry when Riley drove into him in one powerful stroke. For a terrible second Riley feared he'd been too rough, but then Graham drew a shaky breath and spread his thighs further to allow more of Riley's cock into his body. Sending a quick prayer of thanks heavenwards, Riley moved again, filling his lover completely.

Once he was sheathed to the hilt he felt a strong hand grab the back of his neck, squeezing just hard enough to make him stop and look into his friend's stormy gray eyes. Graham's face was at his most stoic, not betraying anything, but his eyes were swirling with a multitude of emotions. There was hope, and fear, something like desperation, something like disbelief, determination and...love. His voice sounded rough when he spoke, almost angry.

"Don't play with me, Iowa," he warned. "If you say something like that, you better mean it, or don't say it at all."

Riley stared into his eyes and swallowed. He knew what Graham was doing: he was offering Riley a way out, a chance to take his words back, to make this a one-time deal, no strings attached. All he had to do was say the word and Graham would lock his own feelings away and never speak of this night again. Knowing him he'd even help clearing things with Buffy.

If he hadn't been in love with him already, Riley would have fallen hard for Graham then. So he just smiled and leaned his head against Graham's for a moment, feeling more at peace than he had for a long time. The realization that he'd made his decision hours before didn't come as a surprise.

"Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it, Gray," he said gently.

Graham searched his eyes, still doubtful. "Are you sure?" He stiffened. "Are we even on the same page here?"

Riley shrugged, unable to hold back a grin. "Well, I don't know what your page says, but mine has 'relationship' printed all over it. There are some pretty detailed graphics, too." Was it the lamp light or...? "Uh...Gray? Are you blushing?"

The chiseled face darkened even more, though Graham managed to keep his voice steady when he firmly replied: "No. I'm not."

"Pity," Riley purred. "It'd look so cute."

That got him a frosty glare. "I. Don't. Do. Cute."

Riley wasn't daunted by his growl. He just moved his hips slightly, rubbing the head of his cock against Graham's prostate and savoring the answering whimper. God, this felt perfect. No, he didn't mind giving up his life here in Sunnydale. Not if that meant he could spend the rest of his life with this man.

"So," he whispered, setting a slow rhythm without breaking eye-contact. "Are we on the same page?"

Graham smiled, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him closer. "Same page. Same chapter. Same book. Stop talking and start fucking. Now."

"Making love," Riley corrected gently, kissing the curve of Graham's neck.

Graham's embrace tightened. "With you, that's the same thing," he whispered.

*****
Part 15:

They made love, and then Riley somehow found enough strength to half-carry his lover to the bathroom and help him shower. When they returned, the bed had been changed and the hinges of the door had been replaced.

Too tired to really notice they staggered across the threshold and tumbled onto the cool linen. Graham passed out the second his head touched the pillow. Riley checked his temperature and sighed in relief when he found it normal. He spooned up behind his lover, draping an arm firmly over his chest, then drew the sheets over them both and closed his eyes.

He fell asleep with Graham's clean, familiar scent filling his nose and Graham's warm, strong body pressed closely against his own.

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

Riley woke up a few hours later, lured into consciousness by the smell of freshly brewed coffee. For a little while he just rested.

Hmmm, warmth. Skin. A heart beating against his in a reassuringly regular rhythm. A familiar body molded against his, trapping him with a leg thrown over his thighs, which he didn't mind at all. The heady tang of male musk and some kind of soap he didn't recognize. Little puffs of breath tickling his skin just beneath the right collarbone. A large hand spread over the ridges of his ribs, strangely protective. He experienced an odd feeling of belonging, of rightness, and smiled, lazily trailing his fingers over a broad, muscular back.

Stop. Rewind. Male musk? Large hand? Broad, muscular back? Somehow that did NOT sound like his girlfriend.

//Ex-girlfriend// a sleepy voice muttered in his mind. //Remember? It's on your to-do-list for today. Have a talk with Buffy and tell her you're leaving her for Graham. Then go kill Walsh and Forrest.//

Then his brain decided to wake up and hit him over the head with a truckload full of memories. Willow. Hacking into the Initiative's database. The video files. The written reports, all cold and scientific. Finding Graham sick and aroused in his room. Getting him to Giles. Spike telling them about the Aemanan. Having to make the decision of having sex with Graham even though he'd been raped repeatedly. Having sex with Graham. Spike having sex with Graham. Buffy kicking in the door. More sex. Falling asleep holding Graham.

Oh, yes, and then all the other things he'd realized. Like the fact that Buffy didn't love him. Or that Graham did. Or that he returned his feelings. Or that...

Okay. Stop it. He didn't have the time to freak. There was too much he had to do before Graham woke up, first of all getting out of bed and pouring some coffee into this still pleasantly exhausted body of his. Then he had to find Buffy and break the news to her, preferably without getting staked. He didn't look forward to this talk, but she had the right to hear it from him, to be able to ask for his reasons or simply yell at him.

Then there was still the unresolved matter of Walsh, Forrest and the Initiative. Killing them would have been the most satisfying solution, but he wasn't sure he could do it without getting caught, and he couldn't risk that. Not with Graham still weakened from weeks of abuse. Riley had absolutely no doubts that if he got in trouble, his lover would move heaven and earth to get him out of it. Even if that meant going up alone against the US army.

So the direct approach was out. He shrugged inwardly. Not a problem. He was good at this kind of thing. Tactics and strategy had always been his forte. He could already feel the first outline of a plan forming, only a couple of vague ideas and possible solutions, teasing the edges of his mind. Maybe he could rope in Willow for some more hacking. And there were still a couple of favors he could cash in. Some strings he could pull. He'd have to make a few calls. Talk to some people.

He glanced at his watch. 07:04 hours in the morning. Okay, time to develop some kind of battle plan. If he wanted to be done by the time Graham came to, he was working on a tight schedule. He'd have to play dirty to get the results he wanted, something he didn't really have a problem with.

Most people underestimated his readiness to use any means necessary to protect his loved ones. They looked at his honest face and saw...how had Spike called him so fittingly? Oh, yeah. Hayseed. They saw a farm boy from Iowa, open, friendly, a little naive, always fighting fair, always fending for truth, justice, the American Way and all that. And most of the time, people weren't that far off with their assessment of his character. Most of the time he was a 'good boy'.

That didn't mean there wasn't a dark side to him too, though. He was aware of the potential for violence he carried, and he'd learned long ago to use it for his purposes. He couldn't have become a soldier without it, not to speak of the leader of a secret special ops unit.

It was this part of him, the part that would kill ruthlessly to keep his family and his lover safe, that he needed now. It didn't take much coaxing to have it ready at hand. Though usually he hid it deep in the darkest corner of his mind, the events of the past day and night had woken the beast, and it was rumbling just beneath the surface, pulling at its leash.

He slipped out of Graham's embrace carefully, regretfully, resisting the temptation to kiss these much too kissable lips for fear of waking the sleeping man. Graham had gone through hell, he needed all the rest he could get. And Riley would make sure he got it.

He grabbed his clothes and one of Giles' shirts, since his own had gotten torn beyond repair, and left the room, closing the door silently behind him.

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

"I knew the smell of coffee would do the trick," Buffy stated dryly when Riley padded through the living room, heading straight for the coffee pot.

He jumped at the sound of her voice, taken completely by surprise. Somehow he just hadn't reckoned with her being there when he came down. He'd been fairly sure she'd grow tired of the waiting and leave, either to go on patrol or to have a little heart to heart with Willow in private.

"Uh...Buffy...hi!" he stammered, inwardly cursing himself. He didn't know how she did it, but this woman made him feel like he was an insecure teenage boy instead of the grown man, Marine, and demon hunter he was. "You're still here?"

Part of him was not at all happy to see her, because he could've used a bit more time to wake up, drink some coffee, and rehearse what he was going to say to her. The greater part, however, was relieved to get it over with. The sooner they had their talk, the sooner he could get on with the rest of his plans.

So he changed his course and sat down on the couch beside her, forcing himself to meet her gaze. "Did Giles explain things to you?" he asked, uncertain of how to begin.

Buffy smiled nervously. "Yeah, he told me about Walsh and the experiments and the...demon poisoning thingy...and that it was either have sex with Graham or let him die...so...I...I guess I understand. Kind of. I think."

Riley moved uncomfortably. "That's not all, I'm afraid," he said.

Buffy's smile died. "Not all?" she repeated, slightly incredulous.

Suddenly unable to meet her eyes, knowing he was about to hurt her badly, he looked away, staring at his hands. "No," he confirmed. "Not all. Last night...made me realize some things...about me...about you...about us." He cleared his throat. "About me and Graham."

Sudden stillness beside him. He almost turned and looked, but didn't. If he saw her face, he'd never be able to go through with it. He'd just make up something harmless or slightly embarrassing and then disappear without saying goodbye. And she didn't deserve that.

"You and Graham," she prompted, warily.

"First...first you and me," he said. He would do this properly or not at all.

"Okay," she answered, trying to sound calm and serene. She didn't fool him for a second. "First you and me. Or me and you. However."

He kept a close eye on his clasped hands, satisfied that they didn't shake. He could be proud of his self-control. Or maybe it was the lack of caffeine. "I like you," he started, carefully feeling his way through this particular minefield. "I like you a lot. And I do love you -- and always will."

"But...?"

Now he looked up, needing to see her eyes in order to confirm what he already knew. "But you don't love me."

Shock. Hurt. Guilt. Quick denial. "That's not true, Riley! I love you! How can you think I..."

"Buffy." Something in his tone made her stop before she could launch herself into a rant. He kept his voice quiet, hoping she would follow his example. Graham might be dead-tired, but he wasn't deaf. Riley sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't doubt that you like me," he said gently. "I don't doubt that you want me. Same as I like and want you. But that's not love. At least...not the kind of love I was looking for my whole life. The kind of love you share with Angel." She flinched at that, and he knew he had breached her defenses, so he continued before he could lose his nerve. "The kind of love I think I found with Graham."

There. He'd said it. Maybe she'd accept it or maybe not, but in any case she knew. There was no turning back now.

She was quiet for a while, staring at him without blinking, digesting the information. He waited. There was nothing else he could do, though his brain kept calculating how fast he could grab her and drag her outside should she decide to give him a piece of her mind at the top of her voice.

After a few minutes she closed her eyes. When she met his gaze again, he knew she understood. She wasn't happy about it, but she saw the truth in his words and she was strong enough to handle it. //Of course// he thought with a slight smile, feeling incredibly proud of her. //She's the Slayer. She can handle just about everything.//

"You THINK you found it with Graham?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

He thought about it. Really thought about it. "No," he said, unable to contain the smile that was blossoming on his face. "I know it."

Buffy snickered, tried to hide her grin behind her hand, then laughed out loud when he stared at her in confusion. "Sorry," she chuckled. "I don't want to...but...I just...I mean...that must've been an AMAZING night!"

Damn his fair skin, he was blushing again. How did she do that anyhow? He was used to the filthy mouths of professional soldiers, he'd given up blushing years ago!

He jumped up, almost falling over the coffee table, and retreated into the direction of the small kitchenette. "Coffee," he declared, flustered. "I need coffee. You want some too?"

Buffy watched him from the couch, visibly amused. Yes, she was definitely handling this well. She seemed almost a bit relieved about what had happened. "No, thanks," she drawled. "I don't think I could handle the caffeine-boost."

"Yeah, well, I need it," he decided.

"Be a pal and gimme a bag of AB negative while you're at it," a voice with an unmistakable British accent threw in, almost causing the early demise of one Riley Finn.

When he was sure his heart was still beating, Riley turned around, glaring at Spike. The vampire, reduced to a shaking bundle of mirth by his reaction, showed no remorse whatsoever. Buffy had disappeared behind the backrest of the couch, but he could hear her giggling. She sounded slightly hysterical, but at least she was laughing instead of hating his guts.

"Spike..." he growled, wondering if Buffy would be very pissed if he dusted the annoying creature in Giles' kitchen.

Spike grinned at him. "Jumpy today, aren't we, Hayseed?"

Riley contemplated telling him that with most other people he wouldn't have jumped but struck out, but decided to keep that piece of information to himself. Spike didn't need to know that Riley had started to consider him an ally rather than an enemy, and had consequently developed a kind of protective instinct towards the vampire. The last thing he wanted was Spike to get even more cocky than he already was.

"Just...get out of my way, Spike," he grumbled, pushing past the vampire.

Spike snickered evilly, then opened the fridge and started to rummage through the contents, looking for the blood Giles kept there for him. He took great care not to look at Riley when he asked casually, "So, how's the falcon today?"

Riley shot him a surprised look. "The falcon?"

A pale hand gesticulated impatiently. "Graham."

"The falcon?" Buffy inquired from the couch, audibly intrigued.

Spike leaned forward, somehow managing to disappear almost to his hips in Giles' small fridge. "His eyes are strange. Steely bluish gray like a falcon's feathers," he mumbled, embarrassed. "It's kind of pretty. Now where's that damn blood?!"

Buffy and Riley exchanged a look. She raised an eyebrow in a silent question. He shrugged. He had no intention of finding out what exactly the vampire felt for the Marine. He didn't want to know. As long as Spike didn't try to approach Graham, he was willing to pretend he didn't notice the vampire's little slips.

It didn't stop him from keeping a stake handy, though.

*****
Part 16:

It was a busy day for Riley and Willow. While she spent the time in front of her computer, handling the electronic angle of his plan, Riley took over Giles' phone and concentrated on the human angle. Buffy, Giles, Xander and Spike lent their moral support and generally just got in the way. They'd sent Anya home after she'd continued to quiz Riley and Spike on Graham's sexual proficiency until Riley seriously considered changing her status from an ex-demon to an ex-living being.

He could tell that they were surprised at seeing him like this, hard and focused and ready to use all means necessary to get what he wanted. He didn't care. If he had his way, he and Graham would be gone for good in 24 hours at the most. They could wonder who he really was all they wanted. For now he was happy they were willing to help and stand guard so he could do what he had to without worrying about unpleasant surprises.

Riley interrupted his preparations only to check on Graham. At noon he roused his lover enough to coax some water into him, then sat at his side for a few minutes, resting his hand on Graham's side and watching him sleep. Graham looked a lot better already. He was sleeping soundly instead of being unconscious, which was a definite improvement. His skin was warm to the touch, but it was a healthy warmth, not the burning heat of fever. Riley stayed a while to make sure he wasn't plagued by nightmares, then he returned downstairs to call the guy in Colorado he'd been trying to reach.

Around three in the afternoon Buffy threatened to cut the phone-cord if he didn't eat something, so he quickly devoured a sandwich while he was waiting for a connection.

Around half past three Spike alerted him that Graham was having a nightmare. He dropped the phone, leaving a flustered General hanging on the line, and raced up the stairs. Spike was already waiting for him at the door, looking almost frantic and trying very hard not to let it show.

"Come on, Hayseed, do something!" he demanded, all but pushing Riley into the room. "Before he starts screaming."

Riley shook his head, not even looking at the vampire. "He won't scream. He never does."

"Why doesn't he...oh, bloody 'ell, who cares? Shake him awake already!"

This time Riley did look at him, incredulously. "Do you think I'm suicidal?" He stopped, shook his head, and remembered his earlier decision not to try and understand the way Spike or any other HST's brain worked. "Why am I asking? Get out! I'll take care of him."

Spike retreated reluctantly, almost banging against the doorframe because he kept glancing over his shoulder at Graham. "You sure you can do this?" he asked skeptically.

Riley sighed. "Yes. Now would you please leave us alone?"

"Don't do anything you think I would do," Spike counseled wisely. "It'll only get you into trouble."

"Thanks for the tip," Riley growled. "Don't let the door hit you on your way out."

"Your insults need work, Hayseed," the vampire informed him, but he left the room at last and closed the door.

Riley barely took notice of his exit. His attention was focused on the man lying on the bed, straining against invisible chains so hard every muscle stood out in stark relief. He stepped closer hesitantly, unsure of how to proceed. Graham was caught in a nightmare and tense like a spooked rattlesnake. Chances were he'd react without thinking if anybody touched him now; he'd lash out, defend himself. And even weakened and half-asleep he could still inflict some serious damage. Riley had no illusions about who of them was the better fighter. Prepared or not, he knew Graham would move too fast for him to counter in time.

In the end he did the only thing he could think of that wouldn't result in mayhem; he started talking to Graham.

Riley didn't know how long he stood beside the bed, keeping up a steady stream of low, soothing words. He had no idea what he was talking about; he was skimming through anecdotes about his childhood, about his first year in the military, about his less than successful love-life. The words weren't important, the only thing that mattered was the fact that he was there and that he made Graham realize it.

It worked. He could see the tension ease out of his friend's muscles slowly, could hear the ragged breathing calm. Graham turned slightly towards the sound of his voice, one hand sliding over the covers, blindly searching for Riley. Hoping that the danger was over, Riley kicked off his shoes and carefully lay down beside him. A moment later he was pressed firmly against a warm, naked body, only partly covered by the soft sheets.

Even fast asleep Graham seemed to recognize him. He burrowed into Riley's embrace without hesitation, sighing contentedly when he'd found a comfortable position half on top of his CO. It was strange to discover that the taciturn Marine, who'd always seemed so self-sufficient and reserved, was so hungry for touch. Buffy had also liked to fall asleep in Riley's arms, but once she was sleeping, she'd struggled free and slept alone, clearly feeling disturbed when he tried to hold her. Maybe it was her Slayer instincts demanding some space to be able to jump up and fight any second, but he suspected it was more her women instincts complaining about him, because he wasn't Angel.

He'd half-expected Graham to be the same. Granted, he wasn't the Slayer, but he was a fighter on a much more primal level than Riley would ever be. Riley had chosen to become a soldier. Graham, like Buffy, had been born for the job. But unlike Buffy he didn't shy away from his lover's embrace. On the contrary, he seemed to crave the contact, even need it. He was still trembling slightly because of the nightmare, but he sought Riley's nearness, trusting his friend to keep him safe while he was vulnerable.

It felt good to be needed for a change.

Shelving his plans for the moment Riley wrapped his arms around Graham and buried his face in the crook of his lover's neck. His self-appointed mission could wait for a few minutes. Right now it seemed much more important to touch Graham and hold him close. To feel his heartbeat, strong and regular. To be enveloped in his warmth. To silently thank God for the chance to experience this, because he could easily have lost Graham. He could have lost him for good. The thought alone was enough to make his blood turn to ice.

Instinctively he tightened his hold, needing to reassure himself that his friend was really there, alive and well. Okay, so he wasn't exactly 'well', but he was getting there. Riley silently swore he'd make sure that Graham recovered completely from the abuse. No matter how long it took or what he had to do to help his lover heal -- he wouldn't rest until he'd erased the pain and the humiliation. He knew nothing could ever delete the memories, but he would do everything in his power to bury them beneath good ones. And if that wasn't enough, if he had to hunt down and kill every demon that had ever touched his lover to give Graham the peace he deserved, he'd do it. Gladly. Hell, he'd off Walsh and Forrest and the Marines who had watched but not raised a finger to help Graham as a bonus.

Graham seemed to sense his upset even in his sleep, because he mumbled something vaguely soothing and moved closer, nudging Riley's thighs apart so he could settle between them comfortably. His hand found Riley's, their fingers intertwining almost reflexively.

Riley tried to hold on to his anger, but every time he tensed, Graham tensed too, picking up on his CO's agitation and instinctively getting ready to wake up and defend him at the slightest disturbance. Since the last thing Riley wanted was to wake his friend, he forced himself to concentrate on less distressing things. Like Graham's breath on his skin. Like Graham's warm, solid weight pressing against him. Like Graham's beautiful body, highlighted by a single ray of sunlight that had managed to sneak in through the drapes, caressing the broad shoulders, the strong lines of Graham's back, the curve of that irresistible little ass...

//Smart, Finn. Real smart. Out of the frying pan, into the fire. If you keep this up you're gonna wake him. And he needs the rest. So pull yourself together and think of something neutral. Like...Giles. And whatever you do, don't look at all that bare skin.//

Grabbing the discarded sheets with his free hand, Riley tried to cover the sleeping man without touching him or looking at him. It didn't help. The image of a nude Graham draped all over his own fully clothed body had burnt itself into his mind. He wanted nothing more than to get rid of his clothes, to feel Graham's skin on his, to touch and kiss and...

Just then the door was pushed open silently and Spike slipped through the crack, cooling Riley off most effectively. Ignoring the soldier's glare the vampire ducked beneath the sunbeam and sat down on the floor beside the bed.

It took Riley a few seconds until he was reasonably sure he could talk without getting loud. Then he grated in careful self-restraint, "Spike? What are you doing here?"

Spike's voice was even lower than his own, but filled with so much malicious hate his own anger at the unbidden intrusion evaporated. "Giles sent me up to keep an eye on you and the falcon."

An icy feeling of foreboding gripped Riley. Without consciously thinking about it he moved, turning so Graham came to lie beneath him, covered and shielded by Riley's body. The Marine stirred and drowsily murmured a question. Both Riley and Spike froze and waited until he'd settled again, too exhausted to wake up completely. When he felt Graham relax and slip back into the repose of sleep, Riley looked to Spike for an explanation.

The vampire's eyes were blazing with cold fury, the icy blue of his irises almost entirely replaced by reptile yellow. He wasn't sporting his gameface, but he was close. His features shifted continuously, making him look feral and inhuman -- more so actually than after a complete change. Suddenly Riley was extremely aware of the fact that Spike, chip or no chip, was no man but a demon, a killer by definition. A part of him shrank back at the sight, shivering in innate fear. But another part, his dark side, still strong and present because the threat to Graham hadn't been dealt with yet, greeted the creature with approval. Fiend from hell or not, Spike wouldn't hesitate to defend Graham no matter the cost, so he was considered an ally.

Something must have shown in his eyes, because Spike smiled thinly, reluctant respect dawning in his alien eyes. Then the smile died, as another wave of fury washed over the angular face. "We've got a visitor," he informed Riley. "A bloke calling himself Forrest. Says he's a friend of yours, looking for you and the falcon. Red and the Watcher will send him away, but they wanted me to come up here just in case."

Riley's eyes narrowed dangerously. Forrest. Forrest was here. Had the guts to come here and claim to be a friend. Well, that answered one question: The Initiative obviously didn't know yet that he'd found out about the experiments and that he and Graham were AWOL. If Walsh had suspected anything like that, she'd have sent more than one man. No, most likely they thought he and Graham had run into some kind of trouble and needed help. Help. What a laugh.

He looked down at his friend, who was sleeping peacefully now. Graham had survived, but the ordeal had left its marks on him. He looked tired and drawn, almost fragile. Riley knew that impression was deceiving. Graham was all muscle and bone and skin, reduced to the essentials like a wolf after a long, hard winter. He was tough, too tough to break now that he'd made it through the worst, but the knowledge didn't help. Riley still wanted to kill Walsh and Forrest for what they'd done to his lover. He wanted to get up, go down the stairs, walk up to Forrest and gut him.

"Whatever you're thinking about...let's do it," Spike growled, his eyes mirroring Riley's hatred and cold consideration.

And Riley was tempted. He knew this was most likely the best chance he'd get to kill Forrest. If everything went as planned, Graham and he would be gone in a few hours and it might be years until he got another opportunity like this one.

//Kill him// an angry little voice hissed in his mind. //Kill him and let Spike deal with the body. No one will ever find out what happened to him. Walsh will declare him MIA in a few days, then write him off as dead or potentially undead. This is Sunnydale. This is a war-zone. So martial law is in force. He betrayed his team-mates in the worst possible way. Kill him.//

He shook his head, slowly, reluctantly. "No," he said. "Not now. Not here."

Spike snarled. "Why not? He's alone. He doesn't know you know. Go down there and kill him already! This is not the time to get all soft and sentimental, you bloody idiot! The bugger hurt our falcon! I want him dead. Permanently!"

Riley glared at him. "Shut up," he whispered. "You're going to wake Graham. And I didn't say I'd let him live. All I said was that this was neither the time nor the place."

"It's the perfect time and place," Spike breathed. "That fool marched right into the proverbial lion's den! That's a bloody sign! A soddin' divine intervention! Somebody up there wants to see justice done! Let's not disappoint them!"

Riley raised an eyebrow. "What the hell did you smoke?" he asked suspiciously.

The vampire sniffed indignantly. "I thought you were a Catholic."

"So?"

Spike shrugged. "Old Testament? Blood for blood? An eye for an eye? No? Oh, well, it was worth a try. But if you think you know better...what's your plan, Hayseed?"

Riley caressed Graham's shoulder, thinking about it. Finally he met Spike's gaze again. "I know you can't harm a human being, but can you arrange for Forrest's and Walsh's death?"

Spike looked confused. "Of course I can. I'm still a master vampire. I've got connections. But why wait?"

"Because," the soldier explained patiently, "I want to be long gone when it happens. If I do it, now or later, it'll look like a hit. But if you hire a demon to kill them...well, this is the Hellmouth. People are killed in strange ways all the time here."

The vampire blinked. "You know, Finn, I'm discovering a whole new side of you," he remarked. "You're a lot more dangerous than you pretend to be."

Riley stared at him impassively. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Fangs flashed in a quick grin. "Hell, no. I like it."

*****