The regulars were staring at the two, obviously trying to figure out who they were. One of them, a little drunker and a little more gregarious, eventually got sent over to their table to check them out. He pointedly ignored Riley, who was obviously not Greek, and instead asked Xander something in Greek.

Xander shrugged, "Sorry."

"You don't speak Greek?"

"No...." Xander shook his head.

The man nodded slowly. He indicated the bottle on the table, "You like Metaxa?", he asked, giving the name of the brandy a pronunciation Xander knew he would later try to imitate. Xander nodded and took another sip to prove it.

"Good. Metaxa is good. Me, I drink ouzu." He held out a hand. "Tassos."

"Xander." He shook hands.

"Good to meet you, Xandros." His speech was only slightly slurred. Xander usually corrected people when they mispronounced his name, but somehow 'Xandros' sounded right coming from this guy.

"That's Riley." Xander pointed his chin at his drinking buddy.

Riley nodded. The fisherman gave Riley a perfunctory glance and returned his attention to Xander. He shook his head, "'Riley' is not a name. 'Alexandros', that's a name. Your mother is Greek?"

Riley grinned amused, as Xander shook his head.

Too bad." The fisherman said sympathetically, as though not having a Greek mother was the worst fate that could befall a man.

"My mother is still in Greece." The fisherman sighed deeply, as though that explained everything. He lifted his glass filled with some milky-white stuff to Xander, who responded in kind and said "Yasu." The fisherman beamed and replied, "Yasu, Xandros." and went back to his friends at the bar.

Still watching the fisherman, Xander said to Riley, "Must be hard to be away from home like that."

"It is." Riley said, looking down at the table, then lifted his glass and drained it.

Xander's head snapped over to Riley, who was contemplating his empty glass with all his energy.

"You miss it? Iowa?" Xander refilled both their glasses, hoping that Riley wouldn't comment on the fact that he was really only topping off his own even as he refilled Riley's empty one.

Riley nodded, slightly amused. People from California were always surprised that you could be in California and miss somewhere else. "Yeah, a lot, sometimes."

Xander nodded, not really understanding how someone could miss home, yet envious of anyone who did have a home that they could miss. He tried not to let that show in his face. Riley caught it, flashing a slightly sad grin at Xander. "My mom would love you."

Xander shrugged it off, "Yeah, everyone's mom loves me."

Riley heard the unspoken "... except mine" in Xander's voice, and regretted he'd said anything. Too late now, he forged ahead. "I can see you in the kitchen while she's making supper, you making jokes and cracking her up while you steal pieces of carrot or whatever it is she's cutting up. Her asking you what you want her to make for dessert, because you're the guest and because you're making her laugh."

Xander smiled at the image. Then at Riley. A crooked smile. "Sounds nice. I can see why you miss it."

Another pair of glasses were filled.

Riley shrugged, and took another sip of Metaxa.

"Tell me about it. Down on the farm and all that."

Riley leaned back. "It's beautiful there. Just corn fields for as far as you can see. You can just make out the neighbour's silo from my bedroom window. And in the summer you can see if anyone's coming for miles, cause of the dust their truck kicks up."

"Truck?"

"Yeah, Xander. Farm, with barns, and horses and cows, and people driving pick-up trucks wearing John Deere caps, the whole nine yards." Xander grinned, and nodded for Riley to continue.

"There's this creek below the house, with a grove of trees. Just a place to go walk the dogs after dinner, playing fetch with 'em, and joking with the rest of the family. And going back up and having desert and coffee on the porch in summer, watching the sunset. Mom and Dad sitting on the porch swing, just barely touching each other."

Riley sighed a bit. "Mainly I miss just sitting on the porch after supper, while mom is doing the dishes. Dad talking about the crop this year, looking at the sky to see what weather's coming in from the west, and wondering whether the new seed that Monsanto is trying to sell him would really increase the yield enough to make the extra fertilizer it would need worth while. And him asking me how's it going with me. Cause he knows I can't talk about exactly what I do, so he never asks details. And he throws me this look. Like he's ..."

"... proud of you."

"Yeah."

"You told 'em about leaving the military?"

"Yeah." Riley looked down at the table.

"How'd they take it?"

"Mom was relieved, I think. Doesn't have to worry any more about me getting shot in some country she's never heard of."

"And your Dad?"

Riley looked at Xander and finished his glass. "He just said he knew I was doing what was best ..."

Xander looked at him carefully. "But..."

"I dunno, he just sounded..."

"... disappointed."

"Yeah."

"I know that one." Xander examined his half-filled glass, hoping his tone had been light enough. Knowing that Riley had a hint of what his home had been like.

"Xander, you gotta know that your parents are ..."

Xander's head snapped up and he cut Riley off with a barked, "They're the only parents I got, Riley."

Riley backed off. "Sorry."

"Don't be." It took Xander a moment to be able to meet his eyes. His voice collapsed to a whisper, "Shit. I know, OK?"

Riley nodded. Xander grinned a bit sheepishly.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just when I was a kid, I used to lie in bed fantisizing that my real parents were out there somewhere and they were gonna come to get me one day and take me to my real home."

Xander saw that Riley was giving him a pitying look. Quick... "Yeah and my real home had ponies, and a secret elevator from my bedroom down to this cool dock where my speedboat was, and there was a fireman's pole from my playroom, where all the toys were, down to the kitchen, where there was a cook whose only job was to make me snacks whenever I wanted."

Riley was laughing, "I see you gave this a lot of thought."

"Yeah, I kind of spent a lot of time lying in bed, trying not to listen to them."

Riley poured them each another. He stared at Xander.

"If I'm outta line here, tell me. Look, I ran into a lot of stuff with guys under my command. I mean, my Dad put a belt to my ass more than once ..."

"Don't." Xander couldn't meet his gaze.

Riley was surprised by the edge in Xander's voice. "You got it." He answered softly.

Xander looked at Riley and barely nodded in thanks. Yeah, helluva friendship going on here, based on him never asking Riley about Buffy, and Riley never asking him about his parents. They could talk about anything except the important stuff. The stuff that made them crazy.

Riley looked at Xander and gave him an encouraging smile, "You got Anya, she'd do anything for you."

"And does."

"You dog." Total macho comraderie in that voice. "That's gotta be nice."

"Anya's great in her own way."

"Not a lot of enthusiasm in that voice."

Xander shrugged.

"You love her, don't you?"

Xander shrugged again. He looked up at Riley, "I don't know."

"If you did, you'd know, Xander."

"Yeah, I know. But she needs me."

Riley smiled and nodded. "And then there's the fringe benefits..."

Xander bristled, "It's not like I'm just in it for the sex."

Riley backed off. Forrest or Graham would have taken that as a total compliment, evidence of studliness. Not Xander. Riley sighed. He looked at Xander. "You're a good guy, ya know."

"Yeah, that's me, everybody's favourite nice guy."

"No, I mean you're this really decent guy."

Xander looked at Riley, looking for the joke. His brow wrinkled as he didn't see it in that farm boy face.

Riley broke the gaze and looked down at the table.

Xander took a long sip and changed the subject. "You going to Iowa for the holidays?"

"Dunno. Don't think I'm going home this year. You gonna spend Christmas at home?"

Xander shook his head. "I'll probably stop by my parents' place for a few minutes in the morning, before they start."

Xander heard himself and was surprised that he already thought of the house where he had always lived, till just a few weeks ago, as 'his parents' place', whereas Riley thought of a house where he hadn't lived for years and hadn't even seen in a year as 'home'.

"'Before they start'?"

Xander raised his glass as he raised his eyebrows.

Riley nodded. "Got it."

A couple of guys went over to the ancient jukebox, and after a moment's discussion, put in coins, pressed buttons, and waited for the song to start. They stood next to the juke box, glasses in hand and sang along to the slow song. It was a lament, almost blues-like, pure sadness in 9/8 time. By the second verse, arms were over each other's shoulders, heads almost together as they sang the song, mournful, nostalgic, heart-rending.

Misery, but misery shared.

Xander looked at their seemingly easy and uncluttered camaraderie. Looked enviously at it. Why should just putting your arm across a bud's shoulder, just touching him, letting him know you're there, seem so exotic, when it looked so natural? He looked over at Riley and sighed.

Riley glanced at the guys singing, then met Xander's gaze. He shrugged as if in answer to Xander's unspoken question.

"You miss the other commando guys." It wasn't really a question.

"Yeah. I miss all that."

"It was like a second home for you, wasn't it?"

Riley thought a second and then nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

"I just get the feeling that I'm subbing here. Cause the first team isn't around."

Riley blinked once. The look told Xander he'd hit the nail on the head.

"It's cool." Xander reassured him.

Riley shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Xander, I ..."

Xander grinned, "Like I said, it's cool. They're like your scooby gang."

Riley bristled a little at that. "Xander, the U.S. Marine Corps is *not* like the scooby gang."

Xander shrugged, "Bunch of people united in a common cause, people you know you can depend on, trust with your life, all fighting the enemy."

Riley sighed, silently conceding the point.

"OK, you guys have cool uniforms and better weapons and real training and secret instalations and stuff."

Riley chuckled, and then took another sip of the Metaxa. He got serious, "Xander, I had a mission. I just don't know what my mission is here."

"Helping to fight the forces of darkness at the center of mystical convergeance isn't enough?"

"I thought it would be. I really did ..."

"If Buffy ..."

"Yeah, if Buffy..." There was a real finality to Riley's unfinished sentence. There was a moment's hesitation. Riley picked up his glass and finished the little that was left in it. "I thought I was gonna find my place fighting alongside Buffy. But she really doesn't *need* someone fighting alongside her."

Xander looked at Riley and recognized the scared lost kid in those eyes. "But *you* do."

"Yeah," Riley stared at Xander, taken aback. "Yeah, I guess I do."

Riley picked up the bottle and poured them both another. He smiled in satisfaction as he poured the last drops into his glass. "Dead soldier." He announced, holding the empty bottle upside down.

Xander knew the last thing he needed was another drink. But somehow, that didn't matter now. He picked up the glass and held it out. Riley copied his move and they touched glasses and knocked the drinks back, and the two glasses hit the table, Riley's a millisecond after Xander's.

Xander regretted it almost immediately. "Oooh!. OK. Greek brandy, tasty, but ultimately dangerous."

Riley grinned and nodded in agreement.

The bartender made an announcement in Greek. Half of the guys spoke up, and drinks were poured. Tassos the fisherman glanced at Xander and Riley and said something to the bartender. The bartender nodded, and came out from behind the bar with a bottle of Metaxa.

"To teleftaio." He saw the confusion on their faces, and repeated, "The last one, OK?" He poured them each a shot.

Even though he really didn't want another drink, Xander smiled and nodded.

"Thanks."

The bartender looked at him with half a smile and shook his head slowly and told him "This is a Greek Bar, you should say it in Greek. It sounds friendlier."

Xander nodded. If the guy was gonna give them free drinks, it was the least he could do. The bartender grinned and, as if teaching an errant child, enunciated slowly, "Ef Har Iss Toe".

"Efharisto." Xander said, raising his glass to the bartender, who nodded in approval, then turned expectantly to Riley, who also repeated "Efharisto".

The bartended gave the two a smile and a nod. His good deed for the day done, the bartender went back and began to clean up the bar, and put away bottles.

The two guys at the jukebox pressed the buttons for one last song. Another sad slow one. Xander could almost feel the lyrics. "I've already had too much to drink."

"Yeah, it's pretty late. My bad."

Xander and Riley looked at each other, raised glasses in unison, and downed the brandy, the two glasses hitting the table at the same moment. Xander stood up, and immediately regretted it. Riley stood up more slowly, easing himself into his windbreaker. He was feeling it too, in a big way, but had more practice in not letting it show.

"Come on, big guy. Last train is leaving the station." Riley said sympathetically. The two headed slowly towards the door, walking almost in time to the music.

"OK, I think I need to sit down."

"You'll be OK, Xand." Riley put an arm across Xander's shoulders to steady him, and let it stay there. Riley chuckled, "Besides, I think I kinda need you to hold me up."

A groan came from Xander, " I definitely drank too much. I'm totally wasted."

Riley chuckled, and gave the shoulder he was holding a squeeze as they walked out the door.

Several of the fisherman perfunctorily called out 'Good night' in Greek or English as the two headed out into the slightly cool November night. Once outside, Xander put his hand on the back of Riley's far shoulder as they walked unsteadily back towards the centre of town, back to what now passed for home for each of them.

// and as the evening ends,
and it's a pity that you are ...
... that we are so sad and pathetic.//

*****
Part 4: Morning After

Xander awoke with the biggest headache of his life. He opened his eyes. WHOA! Big mistake. He tried to raise his arm to look at his watch but his arm wouldn't move. Oh, shit. Was paralysis one of the side-effects of drinking Greek brandy? He took in a deep breath and tried to clear his head, but only succeeded in making himself wince in serious pain.

He opened his eyes again, this time more slowly. He saw the time on the alarm clock face. OK, he still had an hour before he had to go to work. He moaned and tried to move again. Funny, he could move his legs, but not his arms. Xander wasn't sure, but he thought paralysis started in the legs and worked up. Something else clicked in his head. His alarm clock used to be digital, when did it suddenly acquire a clock face?

He opened his eyes again and looked at the wall. Not his wall.

Not his room.

And so, logically, not his bed. Not Anya's either. No chintz. Just a stark, cheaply furnished bedsitter. He looked down and saw the arm around him, pinning his arms to his sides. He was suddenly aware that that arm belonged to whomever was pressing himself against his back.

OK. This was new. He had heard about guys getting wasted and waking up in someone's bed without a clear recollection of what had happened the night before. OK, last night. Greek bar. Greek brandy, Metaxa. Yasu. More Metaxa. With Riley. Riley, who now had his arm around him, and was snoring lightly as he pressed himself against Xander.

OK. Riley. Riley's bed. Xander looked down. OK. Still dressed. That's probably a good sign. He was pretty sure he remembered leaving the bar with Riley and walking back, arm over shoulder, feeling very drunk, and close to Riley ...

OK. Very close to Riley in a drunken bud kind of way. Not in a wake up in Riley's bed with Riley's arm around him kind of way.

Gingerly, Xander lifted Riley's arm from around his chest, and slid out of the bed. Riley gave a groan and rolled over onto his stomach. Xander slowly stood up. The pain to the part of his brain right behind his eyes was excruciating. He stumbled around the bed and into the bathroom. He had to rest his head against the tiled wall as he unzipped and took a leak. The sound of piss hitting water was really loud. He closed his eyes.

Finished, he zipped up, and automatically flushed, and immediately regretted it. Damn, that was loud. He opened the medicine cabinet. Riley had Alka-Seltzer, aspirin, Tylenol, and two kinds of over-the-counter hangover relief medicines. Unable to make a rational choice, Xander grabbed one of the hangover relief ones, and carried the packet over to the sink. The one glass there looked fairly skuzzy, but any port in a storm. He rinsed it out, more as a gesture than in a real attempt to clean it, and emptied the powder into it and half-filled the glass with water from the tap. He stirred it with a finger. He stared at it for a second, and then downed it, almost gagging on the slightly acidic taste. He put the glass down, and put both hands on the edges of the sink and sighed deeply.

He looked up and saw his face in the mirror. Not the best Xander-face he'd ever seen. More like a been run over by a streetcar and kicked around by demons sort of face. Xander turned the tap back on and splashed cold water on his face, then grabbed the not very clean towel and dried off. He was suddenly aware that the towel smelled like Riley.

He was also struck that he found it completely natural that he knew what Riley smelled like.

He walked back out to the one room of Riley's apartment. He saw the Mr. Coffee machine. He wasn't sure his stomach could handle coffee, but he was positive that his head needed it. He opened the cabinets as quietly as he could, partly so as not to wake Riley, but mainly to protect his pounding head. He found the filters and the can of Folgers. He grinned at that. Riley was a farm boy: no Kona dark roasted beans waiting to be ground before making the coffee. All-American coffee straight out of the All-American can. Xander emptied the coffee pot of day-old coffee, rinsed it perfunctorily under the tap and went about setting the machine in motion.

He switched it on and started looking for a cup. Two mugs, both dirty. Xander actually washed one of them and set it soaking wet on the counter. Against any real hope, he opened the fridge and found a gallon jug of milk.

He grinned. Riley was fulfilling all of his Iowa farm boy stereotypes. Nonetheless, he opened the jug and sniffed it and then took a bit of a swig to make sure it hadn't gone bad. It tasted funny ... or rather his tongue felt funny as he tasted it.

He poured some milk into the mug, and left the jug on the counter. There was a good cup of coffee already in the pot. Unwilling to wait for caffeine, Xander pulled the pot out, and filled the mug, and put the pot back under the drip before too much dripped onto the warming element. The wasted drops of water sizzled between glass pot and heat.

Xander raised the cup to his lips and took a long drink.

"My dad would kill ya if he saw ya doing that."

Xander spun around and saw Riley lying on his side smiling at him.

"Uh, good morning."

"He hated it when someone took the first strong part of the pot."

"Uh, sorry." Xander looked at the offending mug he was holding.

Riley put legs over the side of the bed and sat up. He briefly put his head in his hands before standing up.

He walked over to the sink, grabbed the other mug, and shook the water out of it, and poured himself a mug of coffee. The machine sizzled loudly again.

"I'm not my dad." He grinned as he put the pot back under the drip. Xander smiled, then grimaced as his head reacted to too many muscles moving at once.

"I remember leaving the bar and walking ..."

Riley nodded. "Yeah, we made it back here, and you pretty much just crashed."

"Sorry."

"Not a problem. Better that than you trying to walk home by yourself in the state you were in."

Xander looked at his watch. "Oh shit! I'm gonna be late!"

Riley smiled at him. "Xander?"

"Yeah?"

"It's Saturday."

"You sure?"

"Uh, yeah." Riley's face turned into almost a smirk.

"OK, OK." Xander took the mug and went over to the couch and sat heavily.

It adn't escaped his notice that although he woke up in trousers and shirt, Riley was pretty much just in his boxers.

He took another sip of coffee. "Uh, Riley?"

"Yeah?" Riley said as he walked over and sat in the one chair, across from

Xander.

"Did we ...? Never mind."

"We got very drunk, came back here, talked a bit, and you crashed hard. End of story."

Xander nodded, looking down. Grateful that he hadn't had to actually ask the question. Embarassed that he felt like he needed to ask it. He would wait until later to think about why Riley had no trouble answering it, and smiling ...

"You don't remember, do ya?"

Xander shook his head, more than a little embarrassed.

Riley sighed deeply.

Xander searched Riley's face. "What?"

"Nothing, just drunken talk."

Xander smiled a little. "I remember each of us telling the other what great guys were are."

Riley nodded.

"And we trashed Angel, a lot."

Riley nodded again. "Yeah, your words were 'Deadboy is pretty much the bloodsucking fiend from hell, and that's on his good days'. And something about Cordy and Angel deserving each other."

Xander blushed. "I didn't mean that... no one deserves Angel... or Cordy for that matter."

Riley grinned at him slyly as he took another swig of coffee. "Does Anya really keep a running tally of her orgasms?"

"Shit, I told you that?"

"You were very drunk."

Xander nodded. "Yeah, I must have been, ... and yeah, she really does."

"It's kind of sweet, in a really perverse way. Not to mention kind of impressive."

Xander nodded at the compliment, but his tone of voice was a bit subdued, "Yeah, that's me, orgasm-boy."

Xander noticed that Riley was looking at him, really looking at him. Riley caught himself. "Lemme buy you breakfast."

"I don't think I could eat, Ri."

"I promise you'll feel worse if you don't."

"OK. Just one thing, though."

"Name it, Xand."

"No Greek food."

"You got it." Riley laughed.

Xander winced. "Hey! Laugh quieter!"

*****
Part 5: Catalyst

Giles, grateful that the shop was relatively quiet of a Thursday evening, sat reading through a copy of 'Chronicles of a Slayer Fortold' which he had found among the books that the previous proprietor of the magic shop had left in the storeroom. He was reading it more out of academic interest, since the author seemed unable to distinguish between reality and certain, ahem, fantasy elements of the whole slayer mythos. He imagined that at some point the author had occasion to listen to a vampire who was enjoying having a go at him. Giles was rather enjoying both the stilted Victorian prose, and the delicious feeling of superiority he got from finding the next howling error in the text.

Giles looked up from the tome as Buffy came out of the work-out room and wiped her face with the towel hanging around her neck, and grabbed the water bottle off the counter, taking a healthy swallow. She grinned over at Anya, who was assiduously adjusting the prices on the tags of the most popular items in the store. Adjusting them upwards.

Giles had asked her if she thought that prices were infintely elastic. Anya smiled and shrugged, and had told him that if people wanted the things they would give more money for them. "I like it when they give me more money". Giles glared at her, and she quickly revised her statement, "You, they give *you* more money, and then you have more money to give me."

Buffy and Giles exchanged grins. Life was simple in the Anyaverse: Get money from Giles, and orgasms from Xander.

Buffy, having caught her breath, asked, "Xander still at work?"

Anya shook her head, "No, he's out doing guy stuff."

"By himself?"

Anya thought a moment, "I don't think you can do guy stuff by yourself, I think you need guys plural to do guy stuff."

"Who with, then?"

"Riley."

"What kind of guy stuff?" Buffy asked as she sat on the stool across from where Anya was working. Comparing boyfriends was usually a safe topic with Anya, although she was often the mistress of too much information. But that could be amusing, and provided ammunition for Xander-taunting, should the need arise, which it usually did.

Anya shrugged. "It seems to involve lots of bad food, bottled beverages, and watching guys in funny clothes playing on television."

"Playing?"

Anya nodded, "You know, playing games like basketball and football and monopoly. Wait, not monopoly. But poker *is* involved somehow, but I'm not quite sure how."

"Riley and Xander are hanging out a lot these days�"

Anya nodded and looked at Buffy. "Xander explained it to me. It has to do with doing things you can�t do with your girlfriend."

Buffy nodded.

Giles suddenly looked up at the two, and uttered a slient "Oh, dear."

He looked at the two girls, trying to decide whether to say anything. He sighed. It's not as though he *knew* anything. Just suspected. Quite a bit actually. He closed the book and went over to his desk, and taking a key from his waistcoat pocket, opened the bottom drawer of his desk, and pulled out a volume that he had carefully hidden from prying eyes. Particularly, a certain red-head witch with prying eyes.

He sat down, and opened the fat leather-covered volume. "Sur les Etres Catalytiques et son Influence sur ses Proches" (Geneva, 1623), usually simply known as 'The Catalysts".

Ah, life on the hellmouth. Mystical convergence and all that. He hadn't looked at this book for more than two years. He had thought that Cordelia and then Anya might have obviated this particular problem� Fine, not exactly a problem. It wasn't as though the lad really couldn't do anything supernatural, exactly. It *was* a power. But not to change anyone, just to bring certain � elements to the surface in the people he came close to.

Giles thought about Willow. How he had known what was going to happen, ever since that time when she had been found with him in that factory, locked in a forbidden embrace. Not that it was a bad thing, just inevitable. She had loved him in her own way, but more importantly, she had, ahem, gotten close to him. And Giles was grateful that at least Tara was a good sort, even if Giles didn't altogether approve of her family background. But the two seemed happy enough together. It seemed to have ended well. As young Mr Finn liked to say, altogether too often, 'No harm, no foul'.

Giles leaned back, and sighed. Better that Xander not know. It was a power, but not a power that one necessarily wanted. To have that kind of influence on people. To bring out those kinds of repressed feelings. And sometimes feelings were better left repressed. Such as what Giles suspected were certain sadistic tendencies on the lad's father's part.

The moment that Giles had first given Xander an avuncular pat on the shoulder, he had felt it. Those feelings that he hadn�t felt, well, since the Beatles were still an intact band, and he was called 'Ripper'.

Giles sighed again. No one went through British boarding school without the usual sorts of crushes one developed on upper form boys. More hero worship than anything else. And, well, there was that drug- and magick- influenced period in University with � better not think about that too much.

But the evidence didn't just come from his own experience, he had seen it in the way that Oz had looked at Xander sometimes during meetings. The laconic lycanthrope staring at Xander from across the table and swallowing hard, and then working very hard at focussing on Willow.

And that footballer, what was his name? The one who had come to the library and tried to check out Kraft-Ebbinghaus's 'Psychopathia Sexualis'. Giles had done the lad a favour, and substituted a more modern book on the subject without wink or nod or comment. And surrepticiously slipped a card with the hastily scribbled number of the university gay hot-line into the volume as he checked it out to him. The lad had taken the book, looked at the librarian in an embarrassed and somewhat befuddled manner, and mumbled a question about whether Giles knew Xander, knowing full well that Xander and the librarian were seen talking around the school on a regular basis.

Giles knew the question the lad wanted to ask. And knew he couldn't answer it. Giles had made sure he didn't know the answer. It had taken all of his resolve to maintain a distance from Xander these years. He had worked hard at not finding out if Xander were available. Holding always the greatest fear and the greatest hope that one day Xander would broach the subject with him: knowing he oughtn't even consider it, but knowing he would refuse the lad nothing if confronted. Luckily, that had never happened. Or unluckily (Stop that, Rupert, stop that right now.)

He had brushed off � Larry � yes that was the lad's name, Larry's question. The lad had nodded, glowing red with embarassment, and Giles had watched him walk out, stuffing the book, 'Coming Out Right', into his backpack. And quite the lad, that one. Giles had always wanted to know exactly what was the nature of his and Xander's 'close proximity' that the Catalyst process required. He had decided that discretion was the better part of valour in that case.

Giles sometimes wondered if Xander's mouth-to-mouth resucitation of Buffy might have had somethig to do with the slayer's rather, not to put too fine a point on it, perverse attraction to a vampire. Generations of Vampire Slayers had lived for, well, slaying vampires, and suddenly, he had a slayer on his hands who not only wanted not to slay a vampire, but actually wanted to � A fine line between love and hate, indeed.

No, Xander definitely didn't need to know that. The poor lad would never forgive himself if it had been his catalytic power that had been the ultimate cause of Buffy, ahem, getting together with Angel, and all that had happened afterwards.

To Jenny� Never mind that! Done's done. Giles took off his glasses and held his eyes for a short moment. Then, once again in control, permitted himself a quick sad smile, jaw nonetheless clenched, and then sighed as he replaced his glasses.

Cordelia. Giles stiffled a chuckle. His pet theory had always been that Xander had brought out Cordy's deeply repressed sense of simple decency.

And Kendra. Giles smiled sympathetically at that memory. All sexual feelings successfully repressed by old-school watcher training for her entire post-pubescent life. Poor thing. Merely meeting Xander had been enough for all those feelings to come pouring out. Probably for the first time in her life, young Kendra became tongue-tied and unsure of herself. She maintained herself admirably, Giles thought, even if her accent did wander all over the Carribean whenever she spoke to Xander.

And Angel. Ah well. Poor repressed vampiric Angel. Those soulful (well, when he HAD a soul, that is) eyes flinching at every verbal jab Xander threw at him.

And Anya. Giles had to grin. Giles suspected that Xander's catalytic effect on her had to do with bringing to the surface over a thousand years of deeply repressed heterosexuality. And if the stories he overheard from the gang were to be believed, a thousand years of repression when unleashed can take quite a bit to sate.

Ah, and now Xander was getting close to Riley. From Giles limited experience with the military, he suspected that if Riley had anything to repress -- and most everyone did -- it would be fairly severely repressed. Which meant that if, or rather when, it surfaced under the catalyst's influence, it could be rather � explosive. He looked across the store at Buffy, sitting on the stool by the counter. Giles hoped she could deal with that, should it come. A distracted slayer was not an efficient slayer. But Buffy had been through worse.

And Xander. The catalyst had no effect on himself of course. Should Xander know, the lad would simply withdraw even further, worried about the effect he would have on whomever he managed to get close to. And Xander had enough problems getting close to people as it was. Better leave bad enough alone. But be around to help pick up the pieces. Keep an eye on the situation. A close eye. Do what he had been trained to do: Watch.

Giles quietly closed the book, and shoved it back in the drawer, locking it up again, and then returned the key to his pocket. He sighed. The lads would just have to work it out for themselves.

*****
Part 6: Sports Bar

Riley was glad that Xander had just laughed him off that night when he had called him a wimp like that.

Called Xander a wimp cause he said he didn't really want to have sex with him. Total joke, right? Like the way he and Graham used to joke around in the showers: 'Hey bend over, I got something for you.' Total macho jock-boy kidding around, right?

Right?

Then why did doing the play wrestling with Xander . . . have that effect on him. Riley sighed.

He looked at the half-empty bottle on the table. Or maybe it was still half-full. He looked at his watch. OK, Riley. 11 a.m. Not time to be thinking about the bottle. Jesus this was getting bad. Even though he heard all the jokes about Irish guys and the bottle, that had never been him, or his family.

He picked up the phone and called Buffy's house. Dawn answered.

"Hey, kid!" Riley said brightly, and waited for it.

"I am *not* a kid!"

Riley chuckled, "Is the big sis there?"

"Nope, she went over to Giles' place for some training thing.

"Right. Tell her I called, OK?"

"OK."

Riley resisted the urge to tease her and tell her that Xander said 'Hi'.

Riley sighed and pulled on his running gear, and stretched a bit, and then headed out. That was obligatory. If he tied one on, he had to do an extra-long run to make up for it. Penance or good health, take your pick.

He headed vaguely south. He missed the countryside back home. This time of year it would be all trees turning, fields harvested and lying fallow, waiting for the snows of winter, the first really cold mornings of the year. Not here, sunny and warm even in November. It didn't seem natural. But not a lot seemed natural in Sunnydale.

Riley let go, giving in to the run, his mind almost going blank. Striving for that alpha-state in which he was all body and no mind. Wanting that kind of mental relaxation brought on by pushing the body as hard as he could. He was really pushing his body hard, going for a longer distance than usual, proving to himself he could still do it, even in his current state. He was barely aware of his surroundings as the buildings started to thin out.

Riley looked up from the road, suddenly realizing that he wasn't on his usual running route. He seemed to be heading towards the edge of town . . . towards where Xander said he was working these days. The new construction site, where Xander was heading up the carpentry crew. Riley slowed to a walk and then stopped. He put hands on his waist and bent over slightly, and tried to catch his breath, and his thoughts.

What the *fuck* was going on?

=========================================

Xander answered the phone on the second ring.

"Hey, Xander. Up for a beer?"

"Sounds great, Ri. I just got home. Let me grab a shower and I'm good to go."

"I'll swing by your place, and then we'll head out, OK?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"OK. I'll see you in 15, Xand."

"In 15."

--------------------------

Xander was still drying off when the knock came. He wrapped the towel around his waist and cracked the door a bit.

"La la la, I'm here at Xander's place." Riley's grin was infectious.

Xander chuckled at the reference to the Scooby gang's first visit to his new place.

"Hey!" Xander opened the door and let Riley in. Xander nodded at the couch "I'll be right with you."

Riley had seen lots of guys in locker rooms, so seeing a guy in just a towel wasn't a new experience. But he was definitely checking Xander out. He didn't know why he had thought of Xander as being a skinny little guy. Because he definitely had a nice build. Riley blushed as he realized what he was thinking.

'Yeah go get dressed.' he thought,

Xander came back out in a minute, in clean khakis, as he pulled a shirt right-side out and pulled it on. . .

"How are you doing, Ri?

Riley shrugged, and looked at the fridge, avoiding looking at a dressing Xander.

Xander grinned. "I haven't been to the store in a while, there's probably some week-old pizza in there, and maybe some boxes of juice."

"Juice in a box?" Riley smirked a bit, but good-naturedly

"Yeah. you know, for the lunch box."

"Let me guess, you got a Scooby-Doo lunch box."

"Nope. Anya gave me a totally manly grey metal construction worker type lunch box."

"Manly lunch box for a manly man."

"That's me." Xander grinned.

===========================

The ended up at a sports bar, with the big screen TVs. They sat in a booth near the back, ordered a pitcher of the cheap stuff and debated the merits of nachos versus potato skins and ended up going for both. The waitress flirted pretty shamelessly with both of them. Riley was clearly used to that, and flirted back with a winning smile.

Xander gave him a look . . . like 'you got a girlfriend, dude.'

Riley shrugged, "It's part of her job."

"Pool table's free."

Xander nodded. Riley was surprised when Xander kicked his ass. Three games in a row.

"Misspent youth." Xander shrugged.

Riley watched him as he moved around the table, eyes carefully examining the position of the balls on the table, then going for the shot, all business. Sharp smooth motion of his arm as he moved the cue. Tensed forearm muscle. Nice. Striking the cue-ball with . . . authority. And as soon as he had made the shot, back into the usual goofy Xander mode.

"You miss being in the service." It wasn't a question.

Riley shrugged, then picked up his glass of beer and took a serious swallow. "I miss the clarity. Get a mission, do the mission. We were the good guys, they were the enemy. Easy, simple."

Xander grinned. 'Yeah. plus . . . ."

Xander's voice trailed off.

"What?"

Xander shrugged. "Nobody's butt monkey."

Riley chuckled. "Yeah, nobody's butt monkey." He stopped in mid-shot and looked up at Xander, who was grinning at him, "You saying I'm somebody's butt monkey?"

Xander held up his hands in surrender. "Hell, no!" but his eyes were twinkling.

"I am *not* Buffy's butt monkey."

"Nope."

"I'm *not*."

"Absolutely not."

"And I'm not 'the mission's boyfriend'."

"Huh? Where did that come from?"

"Something Graham said to me. That I used to have a mission. But now I was just the mission's boyfriend'."

"Harsh."

"Yeah." Riley looked at Xander appreciating the sympathy, but a bit embarrassed by it as well.

Xander nodded. "Graham got something against Buffy?"

"No. He really likes her. Thinks she's awesome."

"Graham's the uh.." Xander made like a muscle-bound guy

Riley nodded, "Yup, built like a brick shit house."

Xander nodded. "He a good guy?"

"Yeah," Riley sighed. "The best."

"Is he a good friend of yours?"

Riley hesitated, and then nodded.

"Graham's the one wants you back on the team?"

Riley nodded. "Don't know if it's him or if he's got orders."

"Wouldn't he tell you?"

Riley stared at the beer for a second. "Yeah, I think he would. I think he did."

"So you don't believe him?"

"Naw, I believe him, dammit."

"What do you want, Ri?"

Riley look pained. He stared at the floor and didn't answer.

Xander seemed to take pity on him. He nodded to the big screen. "Game's on."

---------------

Riley pumped his arm as the Bulls took the lead. "Yeah!"

Xander mumbled a half-hearted "yay" in reply.

Riley looked at him, a bemused smile on his face.

"Not exactly into the game, are you?"

"You gotta remember, I'm pretty new to this whole guy thing."

"It's easy, Xand. You gotta pick your team, and you know, their win is your win."

"Just what do I win?"

Riley just grinned at him "Serious vicarious thrills."

Xander, smiled back, considering that, "Hmm, I'm thinking I prefer actual thrills."

Riley's head snapped over. But Xander was back to watching the game.

They watched as Riley's team fell further and further behind.

"So, you were into Buffy?"

"Can we not go there?"

"Why?"

"Look, when she was into . . . her old boyfriend, at least I could tell myself that you know, she was into the supernatural thing, so I couldn't compete. But you're just a guy."

"Thanks a lot."

Xander scrambled, "OK, a really good-looking guy. Plus you got the whole macho soldier thing going for you . . . but you know. . . "

Riley's eyes opened just a bit wider as he heard Xander call him 'good-looking'. He quickly covered, "I'm just Joe Regular."

"It's a little harder to take."

"Can't blame me for not being sorry she wants me. . . "

"No blame."

"You really over her?"

"Pretty much. But I guess you never really get over . . . "

Riley shook his head, "Guess not. Not completely."

Xander nodded. "Look. I know where I stand. Don't worry. Played the fool enough already."

"Are we gonna start singing country songs here?"

Xander grinned. "The music of pain."

"Damn! You and Graham!"

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Boy likes his Garth a little too much for my taste."

"I pretty much stick to the classics. You know, like Patsy."

Riley shook his head.

Xander gave him a 'don't bullshit me!' look, "You sure you're from a farm?"

Riley blushed, like he knew he had been busted, "Yeah OK, Patsy Cline: Crazy, and Triangle, and Walkin' after Midnight."

Xander nodded in triumph, and finished the last of his beer. "Ready to motor?"

Riley grinned at the ancient slang and nodded.

============

Back at Riley's, Xander was spread out on the couch, Riley lying back in the bed, both watching some late night black and white comedy. Xander laughing at the comic's antics.

Xander caught Riley glancing over at him a couple of times, kinda studying him a bit. He flashed him a smile.

Riley was pretty drunk. He wondered to himself whether he was drunk enough to actually say anything?.

"Hey Xander?" He asked, barely above a whisper, as a commercial came on.

"Yeah," replied a sleepy voice.

Riley thought a minute, trying to figure out how to say this, trying to figure out if he wanted to say this, trying to figure out if he could say this.

"That other night when you were over, and I called you a wimp, you know? I mean, I gotta confess, I kinda been thinking about maybe, you know, sleeping with you."

No response. Riley lifted his head, and looked at Xander, fast asleep on his couch. He sighed. Part of him was really relieved that Xander hadn't heard that, and part of him was really disappointed. He wasn't sure which part had the upper hand.

He clicked the TV off, and rolled over on his side, and went to sleep.

==============================

Xander woke up, sat up and looked at his watch. An hour before he had to be at work. Not enough time to go home and change. OK, the clothes would do. Luckily he had worn his work boots rather than his sneakers last night. He sighed. The site was a good half an hour walk from Riley's. He'd better get going. He stood up. He probably reeked of beer. He stripped off the clothes and went into the bathroom and hit the shower.

When he came out, Riley was there with a clean towel for him

"Thanks."

"I got a disposable razor if you want."

"Yeah, great." Riley opened the medicine cabinet and handed it to him

"No disposable toothbrush by any chance?"

Riley chuckled and shook his head. "Been a while since I kept that sort of thing around". he grinned.

It took Xander a minute to figure out that Riley meant he actually used to keep stuff around for his one-night stands.

Riley grinned at him, "I see why they hired you."

"Who?"

"That nightclub."

Xander's head shot over. "She told you about that? Your girlfriend is so dead!"

"So you really did, you know, strip."

"No power in the universe, Riley."

Riley laughed. "Want coffee?"

"Dear God, yes!" said Xander.

"Coming right up."

Xander came back out showered and shaved, and pulled his clothes back on. He checked himself out in the mirror.

Riley handed him a cup. "They're totally gonna notice."

Xander grinned sheepishly.

"What time you have to be there?"

"Eight."

"So you're a few minutes late. . . "

Xander shook his head, "I'm the crew boss, remember. I'm late and the whole crew starts late."

Riley nodded. He understood responsibility.

"Call you a cab?"

"Yeah, maybe you'd better."

Riley picked up the phone and dialed, giving his address to the dispatcher. He turned back to Xander.

"Word of advice?"

"Sure."

"Have the cab drop you off a block away and walk the rest of the way, unless you really want the rest of the guys talking."

Xander grinned and nodded, "Thanks."

"Got the cash for the cab?"

Xander pulled out his wallet and checked. "Yeah."

Xander put the wallet back and finished the cup of coffee. When he saw the cab turn into the parking lot of the complex, Xander looked at Riley seriously, trying to keep the embarrassment from showing.

"Uh, Riley."

"Yeah?"

"I heard you last night."

Riley looked puzzled for a second, and then his face fell. He looked down at the ground.

Xander grinned. "Thanks."

"Huh?"

"Nicest compliment anyone's given me in a long time."

"You're not freaked out?"

"Uh, well, yeah, kinda freaked out." Xander smiled at him, somewhat sheepishly. "And kinda complimented . . . and kinda glad I got to get to work right now."

Riley continued to look down at the ground. But when Xander put his hand on Riley's shoulder, to give him a quick good-bye pat, he felt the shiver through Riley's body.

By the time Riley looked up, Xander was getting into the back seat of the cab, leaning forward to give the directions to the driver.

*****
Part 7: Jefe

"Uh, eight foot , six and uh five sixteenths inch, jefe. . . or five eighths, maybe."

Xander sighed at the new guy. "Santos, you gotta get the measurement right, otherwise you're wasting time and wood."

"But there's a lot of wood, jefe." The kid grinned, pointing to the stack under the tarp.

Xander shook his head and smiled at him. "Go measure it again, Santos."

"Right, jefe." The kid took off to measure again. About 10 yards out, he stopped, and turned around, a bit chagrinned. A waiting Xander tossed him the tape measure.

The kid caught it one-handed, "Thanks, jefe." He turned and jogged back inside the building.

Xander turned to one of the older guys, "And 'jefe' means . . . "

"It means 'boss', boss."

"You sure about that?" Xander raised a mock suspicious eyebrow. "Cause it could be slang for 'moron'."

The guys in the crew all cracked up.

"Harris!" Came the bellowing cry from the trailer. Xander turned his head.

The big boss motioned for Xander to come over to the trailer. Xander told the guys to get back to work, and he trotted over.

He pulled off his hardhat as he walked in.

"What's up, jefe?"

The boss grinned at him. At least Xander knew for sure it didn't mean 'moron'.

"Just wanted to let you know that you're doing a great job. Sort of wanted you to come in here so you could hear me congratulate myself for making the right decision putting you in charge of the carpentry crew on this job."

"Thanks." Xander grinned from ear to ear.

"And you're good with bringing the new ones along. I like that. You're good with people."

"And power tools." Xander added. The boss nodded and smiled at the attempt at a joke.

"We made the bonus deadline yesterday."

Xander nodded. "Appreciated the overtime."

"There'll be a little bonus in your pay envelope as well. You did a good job."

"Thanks. That's great! Uh. . . "

"Yeah?"

"How bout my crew?"

The boss nodded at him. "Yeah. Them, too. An extra fifty bucks."

"Great!" Xander gave him a genuine smile. "Can I tell 'em?"

"Sure."

Xander headed out, at the door he stopped to put on his hard hat.

"Harris."

Xander turned.

"The last carpentry crew boss never asked about his crew getting the bonus."

Xander shrugged, "I can't get the job done without them."

"You learn fast, Harris."

Xander gave him a nod and headed back to his crew. There were high-fives all around as Xander told them about the bonuses.

=================

Xander hadn't seen Riley for a couple of days. They had been trying to meet the bonus deadline at the new construction site, and Xander had been putting in some overtime, and between work and Anya, he hadn't really had time for much else. But tonight, Anya would be at Giles' store till nine.

OK, Xander had freaked a bit at Riley's confession. OK, not a confession. His statement. A statement, pure and simple. He'd been thinking about . . . well, sex. With Xander. Sex with Xander. And OK. Xander had brought it up, well, indirectly. To Buffy. That night when he first saw the initiative. Asked her if he could have sex with her boyfriend. Hey! As a joke! Well, mainly as a joke.

Just cause they'd both thought about it didn't mean it was ever gonna happen. Xander thought about sex with a lot of people, but it wasn't like he had sex with a lot of people. He started to feel guilty. He could have called Riley, could have gone out for a beer with him, played it cool. He had told him it was cool. But shit, he hadn't acted cool. He sighed. Riley was an all right guy.

Xander sighed. Decision taken. Time to go see Riley. Let him know he was still cool.

"Coming for a beer, Xander?" asked one of the crew guys.

"Can't today. Gotta check in on a friend. Uh, did you ask the new kid if wanted to go with you guys?"

"I will."

"Thanks." Xander nodded and flashed the guy a grin.

He stopped at a pay phone, and fishing in his pocket for a quarter, picked up the phone. He dialed Riley's number.

Riley answered on the third ring.

"Hello."

"Hey, Ri. How's it going?"

"Hey, Xand."

Riley did not sound good.

"Uh, you up for a beer?"

There was a bitter chuckle. "No beer here."

"What's going on, Riley?"

"Nothing." Riley's voice assumed a more normal tone. But it was pretty forced. "Nothing's going on, Xander. I'll talk to you later, OK?"

He was sounding worse and worse to Xander. "Look, I'm coming over."

"Xander . . . " Riley started to protest, but Xander had hung up the phone.

=========================

He knocked on the door.

"It's open!" There was no enthusiasm in Riley's voice.

Xander entered. Riley was sitting on the couch, half sprawled out.

Xander looked at him and sighed quietly, putting down the beer he'd picked up on the way over. He pulled a folding chair next to the couch and sat down.

"What's the matter, big guy?" He asked softly. Then he saw the half-empty bottle on the floor. "Riley." he sighed.

"No riot act, OK?"

"Yeah, Ok." Xander hesitated and then reached over and gave Riley's arm a bit of a squeeze.

Riley drew in a sharp intake of breath.

Seeing the pain in his eyes, "What happened, Ri?"

"Nothing. I sat her down and told her how I felt, and absolutely nothing happened."

"No response at all?"

"She just smiled that coy smile of hers and changed the subject."

Xander cracked a bit of a smile. "She's a complicated girl. Trust me, I know. She's action-gal. Maybe you gotta pay attention to what she does and not what she says."

Riley nodded. "Yeah." He did not sound convinced.

Riley bowed his head, so Xander couldn't see his eyes. Xander put a hand on his shoulder. "Dude" he whispered as soothingly as he could. "Shit, Ri. You don't think I ever cried?"

Riley looked up at Xander, tears starting to form.

"It's OK. You can kick my ass afterwards if you need to get all macho again."

Riley managed a crooked smile.

Xander gently pushed him down on the couch, facing away from him, while he moved down on the floor, keeping his hand on Riley's shoulder, just letting it rest there.

There was an attempt at a laugh from Riley.

"What?"

A muffled whisper. "Just imagining what Graham would say if he saw this."

Xander said softly "It's OK, Riley."

Riley's torso heaved slightly. It was more a series of sobs. Xander sat there, staring at the back of his head, finally letting his hand gently massage the back of Riley's neck as the guy softly cried. Xander had to admit to being slightly embarrassed by the whole thing. He was glad Riley couldn't see his face. But he wasn't sorry he was there.

It seemed like it lasted for hours, but a check on his watch showed that it was less than five minutes. Riley stopped crying. Xander pulled his hand away, and got up off the floor. Riley wiped his eyes with his shirtsleeve, and gave a deep sigh. He sat up. He avoided Xander's face, deeply embarrassed. He got off the couch and headed to the bathroom.

Xander went over and got himself a beer, and listened to Riley pissing and then washing his face, as he opened the beer and took a few swallows. He leaned against the table.

Riley came back out and looked at Xander, still a bit ashamed. He managed a sheepish smile. "You think I'm a total wimp, don't you?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Xander grinned at him. "Your macho soldier-boy cover is totally blown."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that."

"Uh, I was just kidding about you kicking my ass afterwards. You got that, right?"

Riley grinned and nodded. "Yeah, I got that." Riley met Xander's gaze. "Thanks."

"No problem, buddy."

Riley sighed. Then brightened. "You eaten yet?"

"Nope."

"OK, my treat."

"Nope, mine. Just got a bonus. We gotta celebrate."

Riley nodded. "But it's gotta be someplace that serves thick steaks."

"with baked potatoes. . . "

"and no vegetables. . . "

Riley pulled on his jacket. "that's never heard of bean sprouts. . . "

"or avocados. . . "

The two headed out the door.

"with no salad bar. . . "

"or vegetarian pasta special of the day. . . "

"or ferns in pots. . . "

"or . . . "

*****