Chapter Text
“It’s seriously dead out here, isn’t it?” Buffy idly played with the stake between her hands. She needed it to be out and ready, but so far tonight, the patrol had been a bust. Apparently all the vampires were back to understanding the Slayer resided in Sunnydale.
Riley had the superior height—practically a foot taller than Buffy, he was well over six feet, which was great for looking over the tombstones in the cemetery and getting a bigger perspective on their nearby situation—and she hoped for a second that she was wrong. But Riley smiled at her in that carefree way. Damn, no monsters. Riley’s military training never let him relax if there was an actual problem to face. “Guess it’s just us.”
Buffy pouted playfully, having to carefully watch her step around this particular spot. Penelope Mathers’s headstone always tried to trip her and it was around here somewhere. She could walk just about anywhere else in this graveyard with a blindfold, but that one kept trying to take her down.
“You wanted a fight?” Riley said.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Things have been a little quiet lately. Okay, maybe not quiet. Dawn has been playing boy bands on repeat and we’ve been getting into it. Mom was threatening to send her to Dad’s for the rest of vacation which while I would love, really isn’t fair to her. I mean, I’m not saying that I’m the one starting all the fights. I’m so not. But—”
“But you’re the one starting all the fights.” Riley chuckled.
“Yeah. Kinda.” Buffy twirled the stake between her hands again.
“You could come over to my place. My roommate’s gone for the weekend. Give you some breathing room.”
A perfect suggestion. Buffy smiled up at him. “That sounds—”
And just when she thought they’d be leaving, she heard the distinct sounds of a fight. Nothing quite sounded like fists meeting flesh. Buffy’s smile turned into a scowl. “Like trouble.”
Riley apparently didn’t hear it, because he was frowning and then confused when she ran away. She didn’t have to tell him to follow, he did so automatically. Her Slayer speed gave her the advantage, so even though he had the longer legs, she pulled away. Leaping over a headstone, she had her stake at the ready as she neared the fray.
Four guys on one. Little more standard to see over by Sunnydale’s only good club, The Bronze, but she’d encountered hapless victims in the graveyard before. Only this guy was not the typical victim fare. Not even the usual macho victim who only thought he had a chance against three vampires. No, this guy was moving like he’d done this a lot. He staked one of the attackers with a sloppy version of Riley’s military professionalism.
He was still vastly outnumbered and way out of his depth. Even as Buffy closed in on the fight, one of the vamps grabbed the guy by his brown leather jacket and pulled him in for a bite.
The other two vamps were smarter and saw her coming. She blocked one blow and countered with the stake. Screeching noise and pile of dust barely registered in Buffy’s peripherals as she engaged the next vamp. One strike, two, counter, kick, stake. More dust. Mere seconds had passed, but she turned and hoped she wasn’t too late. Vamps could feed fast.
This one was still mid-drink, thank God, and Buffy easily staked him. The not-so-incompetent victim swayed and Buffy immediately moved to catch him. “Whoa there. You’re okay.”
Up close, the man was gorgeous. Like cover-of-a-magazine-model handsome. A light dash of freckles went across his cheeks and nose. His jawline was sharp, his lips plump. Moonlight washed him out pale, though his green eyes shined. Buffy was so drawn into them she didn’t quite hear his first words. “Thanks, sweetheart. But I could have gotten it.”
He was moving to stand on his own and she resisted the urge to shove him so he’d lose his balance. She hated saving guys who got condescending afterwards, but he was bleeding. “I take it being snack chow was on your agenda for the evening,” she replied as she crossed her arms.
He laughed and Buffy wasn’t sure if his amusement was endearing or annoying. His smile was too cute. If he didn’t have such a cute smile, she would definitely find that laugh annoying. He clamped a hand over his neck wound. “Come on, I at least rate dinner. Maybe not five-star, but more of a burger joint feel. I eat enough of ‘em.”
So he had a sense of humor. Buffy snorted. “Okay, big guy. But four vamps will make anyone into snack size.”
Riley caught up and from the look on his face, she knew he was feeling a small pang of jealousy. Buffy refused to look guilty though. Giving in to that would only make Riley feel justified about his jealousy. She hadn’t been flirting with Angel when he came to town months ago and even if she was flirting with the handsome stranger-victim, she wasn’t going to run away with him. Keeping her voice flat, she said, “Got any bandages on you?”
“Yeah, a couple.” Riley pulled out some gauze. “Let me see it.”
The man winced as he took his hand off the wound. Craning his neck some so Riley had better access, he asked, “So girl who happens to be in a graveyard with a stake. You the Slayer I keep hearing about?”
“One and well, technically not only, but that’s a long story. I’m Buffy Summers.”
“Dean Winchester.”
Buffy caught the nanosecond hesitation in Riley, the bunch in his shoulders that read warning tension, before he finished bandaging Dean’s neck. The other man didn’t notice, probably because vamp bites stung after the niceness wore off and pain was always a massive distractor. Assuming Dean had even gotten the warm fuzzy part of a vamp bite that kept people immobilized. Sometimes newer vamps just didn’t have it in them to lessen the blow.
But he was going to catch on to Riley’s silence. Buffy waved a hand and said, “And this is Riley Finn. My boyfriend.”
Dean actually shot her a ‘boyfriend? damn’ look right in front of Riley. This time his hotness didn’t win her over. She scowled back at him, which surprisingly made him look apologetic. She couldn’t count on his expression being genuine, but he seemed decent enough. “Dating the Slayer, huh? Man’s got to be secure in his masculinity for that.” He shot Riley a just-us-boys-understand grin, though Riley wasn’t amused by it.
And back to glaring. Buffy steadied one on him that made even her sister Dawn think twice about messing with her.
Dean dropped his gaze downwards, his body language switching to a kind of passiveness that put Willow’s former shyness to shame. He shoved his hands in his pockets, wincing again. When he brought his eyes up again, all that macho crap had left him. He looked sort of sweet and a little too innocent for a guy who had apparently chosen to go wandering out into a graveyard. “Sorry, I’m screwing this all up. Honestly I was kind of hoping to run into you tonight. My dad thinks there’s a demon running around in your town and we could use your help tracking it.”
“Demon, huh? Well, it is the Hellmouth, so it’s likely. What’s your guy look like?”
“Last meatsuit he was wearing was an older guy, maybe forties. He’s got yellow eyes.”
Buffy glanced up to Riley, but he shook his head. Neither of them had heard about a new player in town. “Don’t know anything at the moment. When did your guy get here?”
“Not exactly sure he’s even here. Just our best guess,” Dean said.
“All right, well, why don’t you come by the Magic Box tomorrow during business hours. It’s on Main Street. Can’t miss it.”
“Can I bring my dad and brother?”
There was that shoulder tic in Riley again. Something was bugging him, bad enough to make him go blank face. That either meant danger or he didn’t believe it was dangerous enough to warn her. Keeping the Winchesters close might be a good idea, especially if one of them was stupid enough to go cemetery hunting without backup. “Yeah, no problem.”
“Thanks,” Dean said, relaxing and smiling again. “And thanks, you know, for saving my ass.”
“You’re welcome. Just don’t become anyone’s dinner.”
Dean laughed and headed off.
Riley gave Dean a good head start and then slowly strode the same way. Buffy walked along behind him. “So, going to tell me what’s got you on red alert?”
“I might have it wrong,” Riley said.
“You were practically freaking out about him, twice. I know you. I know your ‘time to watch our six’ shoulders.”
Riley sighed heavily and glanced down at her. “Okay. I might have heard the name Winchester before.”
“So have I. It’s a gun, right?”
“Is this really how you’re going to be right now?” he said shortly.
Business mode. Bad sign. Buffy frowned at him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“The Initiative had intel beyond Sunnydale, we were all over the world. And we recruited. John Winchester was a Marine. Something happened in his personal life, but I never got those details. Dean though—” Riley sighed again. “—I had a file on him. Possible for recruitment. Deemed unfit by Walsh. She said he’d never pass the psych eval. I don’t know why. I was putting together a team. Thought it was weird that they’d even consider him. I was already in the military before I signed on. So was everyone else in my unit.”
“But someone in the upper ranks thought about passing Dean through all the red tape,” Buffy said. She played back the fight in her head and shrugged. “I could see it. Clean up his moves a little and he’d be a much better fighter. And he obviously knows about demons, so there’s that hurdle jumped. But why wouldn’t he pass an eval? Most of the Initiative was already Looney Toons.”
Riley scowled at her, which she didn’t get mad about. Her derisive comments about the Initiative were allowed only so long as they didn’t argue about it. That was one week of fighting Buffy didn’t want to relive. “I don’t know,” he said tightly. “I’ll put a call in and see if anyone gets back to me. No promises.”
They reached the edge of the cemetery. A long black Impala rumbled down the street, with Dean behind the wheel. Buffy squinted after the car as if that would help her see him better. “Guess we’ll need to keep an eye on them.”