Veils
June 10th, 2003
Washington, D.C.
Riley knocked once, and entered his c.o.'s office. "You wanted to see me, sir."
Colonel Fischer jerked a thumb to his left. Riley tensed as he caught sight of the person sitting in front of Fischer's desk.
"Buffy." He acknowledged her with a tight nod and crooked smile. "Long
time no see."
"Same here. Sam's not with you?" She looked past him.
Riley held in his temper. "Sam's...gone.Left a few months ago."
Buffy's eyes widened at his curt tone. " I didn't--I'm sorry. "
"You didn't come here to discuss my personal life," Riley answered.He
forced himself not to meet her eyes. "What do you need?"
Buffy brought him up to speed on Sunnydale's last days, as Riley and Fischer listened . While the Colonel hadn't been involved with the Initiative, he'd heard enough about Sunnydale to take the Slayer seriously. "So now we have approximately a hundred new Slayers that we've located, planetwide. The surviving Watchers keep sending new reports. There's one that-- we need to send someone to her, to make contact. I'm going. It's--gonna be more difficult than most."
"She's not Stateside?"
Buffy shook her head. "Middle East. Somewhere in Iraq."
"Yes, that would qualify as difficult," Riley said wryly . "We can get you in with a military escort, or backup--"
Why did her next suggestion surprise him?
Riley looked at her hopeful expression, complete with puppy-dog eyes, and gave in.
They walked out of the office together, after a long discussion of the needed arrangements. Buffy was almost giddy as they went to requisition equipment.
. "I'm really glad you volunteered, Riley. I..." she lowered her voice, reaching up to touch his cheek. "I've missed you."
"I haven't."
The coldness in those words could have frozen a volcano. Buffy dropped her hand.
Riley felt her staring at his back as he resumed walking. He felt a pang of regret, but suppressed it ruthlessly. This is a job, Finn. Not a date.
She's made her choice. You want leftovers again?
They met Giles at the hotel where the Scoobies and some of the new Slayers were headquartered. By then, Riley was on the verge of losing patience with the "real" Slayer altogether.
"Giles. Hey." He inclined his head . "I've been trying to explain Middle Eastern customs to Buffy. Could use some assistance. She's not happy with what I've been able to tell her so far."
"C'mon!" Buffy protested. "Face veils and all that junk? We're going in to find this girl and get the heck to safety, not--"
"Do you want us to have to fight every step of the way? And you don't know how she may react to Americans. Believe it or not, Buffy, not every Iraqi thinks our presence in their country is a blessing from heaven. Are you planning to force her to accompany you, if she objects to what you have in mind?"
Buffy stared at him. "That won't...what girl would want to live
like that? If she had a better option?"
Riley sighed, exasperated. "Talk to her, Giles. I'll be back in a minute. Want to go over some stuff with Willow before we head out."
She caught up to him at the suite that housed Willow and Kennedy. Willow agreed that a locator talisman would be possible. "Sure, no probs. I can do it in my sleep! Not that I've tried," she added quickly.
Kennedy snickered. Riley hid a smile at the redhead's unintentional double-entendre.
Buffy bit her lip. He glanced at her questioningly.
"I thought we could talk. In private," she said.
Riley shrugged. " 'K by me." He let her lead him outdoors, to a garden at the side of the building.
"Why did...you say that?"
"That I don't miss you? Because it's true." Riley ran a hand through his hair. "Buffy, I got some major lessons fed to me lately, about not lying to myself, or living in the past. I loved you, but I'm not certain we ever would have worked. You have your own road--you've always made your own rules, your own destiny. That's not everyone's purpose. What you've accomplished is...incredible. Got to say though, living with a Great Hero? Not the most cozy or happy arrangement for the significant other. No man, or woman, wants to feel like they always come second. I understand why it had to be that way, but---" he gestured.
"So, it's my fault?"
"Breakups are hardly ever one person's fault," Riley said. "I know I screwed up. Never said otherwise. I hope I've learned something from it besides 'don't let vampire whores drink from me.' Have you?"
Before Buffy could answer, they were, naturally, interrupted.
A black-dressed figure entered the garden. Riley fought the urge to snarl. Here we go again.
"Buffy." Angel walked over, nodding to Riley. "I-- Willow e-mailed me. Told me everything that's been going on."
"Angel, now's really not a good time." The Slayer scowled at her ex. "I phoned you as soon as I could. The rest, I didn't tell you for a reason. Your 'subordinates.'Not the kind of people I hang with, ya know?"
Angel hesitated. "That's...complicated. But--you didn't tell me Spike was dusted."
"Why should I have? It's nothing to do with you."
The souled vampire was thrown by Buffy's assertion. "I thought--you said maybe, if things were different..."
"What? Spike's gone so you just stroll in and act like the last two years didn't happen? No. "
"Come on, Buffy-- I was only--"
"Stalking still isn't a turn-on for me.Never was. Right now, I've got work to do. If you won't help, leave me alone. You're not helping!"
Riley cheered silently.
Angel left not long afterward, in a sulk that would have done a three-year-old credit, in Riley's (unvoiced) opinion.
They landed at an army airfield in Baghdad two days later. Buffy had been resistant to the idea of wearing "that ugly army uniform", but given a choice between that and traditional Iraqi outfits, she relented. "Long black skirts and cloth over my face--uh uh. Whole world of no. Been there, done that." She didn't elaborate; wanting the argument to remain closed, Riley didn't ask.
Just a mission, he kept repeating. "Thou shalt not fantasize on how hot an agent looks while you're out in the field", as the Colonel would say.
Damn it.
The smells of smoke and gasoline were thick outside the plane. Silence
lay over the area, as if the city were somehow holding its' breath.
The regiment's commander refused to allow them to go off base without
bulletproof gear, and extra weapons. Buffy took in the sight of the
old bloodstains and charred areas on the base's north wall, and obeyed,
with uncharacteristic silence. The jokes dropped away, she wore her
"Slayer's gameface" as Riley had learned to think of it during Sunnydale.
Part of him was relieved. The change made not visiting Memory Lane
that much easier for him to pull off.
Consulting a map, and Willow's talisman, they determined that the new Slayer was somewhere in the city itself, in the western districts.
"I don't speak the language. Do you?"
Riley nodded. "My accent's not great, but passable. My instructor said people should be able to understand me."
They skirted what looked like a riot in progress. Buffy wanted to jump in. Riley vetoed that firmly. "You don't know how to use a gun, even a handgun.. We don't fight unless we have to. Plus, do you want to have to try explaining to this girl why you killed one of her friends, or possibly family member?"
"Do you think--" the Talisman all but flew out of Buffy's hand. "This way!"
He followed her to a house that appeared deserted. Old burn marks still blackened one wall. Windows were broken. Buffy pushed open a door.
"Hello?" Riley called. "Is anyone here?"
("Asalam Alaikum.") A tall, dark-skinned woman walked down a staircase, holding a baby in her arms. ("If you are looking for my husband, I must say again that he is not here.")
Riley returned her greeting. ("We need to speak with you, ma'am.")
She glanced at Buffy. ("Your...wife, or colleague? She doesn't speak our language?")
("I regret that she doesn't.")
("My name is Khadija al-Nammari." )
Riley introduced himself and Buffy, and tried to explain. Khadija listened courteously. ("Yes. I have dreamed...Can--You undo what is done? This--power that has taken ahold of me?" )
"She wants what?" Buffy exploded upon hearing Riley's translation.
"She has a family here, Buffy. Her husband, and that's their baby, their son. Her future is here."
"Not anymore." The Slayer's face was like stone. "She can't go back to being normal. If she stays here, alone, sooner or later vampires will find her."
"Then teach her what she needs to know. Believe me, violence? Not a big surprise to these people. She should have more than two choices. There was a time when you believed that too. Screw destiny. What makes the difference is us."
He could see the struggle in Buffy's face. Listen to me, for once,
he thought imploringly. If you won't hope even for her, how can you hope for yourself?
Did she even want to?
Why did he--
Noise from outside the house seized his attention. "Oh God--Buffy, get away from the windows! Get down!" he shouted at her. "Khadija--"
The older woman dashed for cover, having already recognized the sound of guns.
It was the last Riley heard, before the house exploded.
Something heavy and sharp crashed into him, drove him to the floor.
He blacked out.
* * *
When he woke, he was lying on soft earth. Khadija and Buffy were hovering over him. The Iraqi helped him to sit up.
He tasted blood in his mouth, and spat several times, trying to get rid of the foulness.
"Are you all right?" Wincing, he tried to remember how to ask the question in Arabic. Khadija gave him a thin smile.
("I am not hurt. The house burned-- she had to carry you out. Do you feel you can walk? Or should I go for help?")
Riley shook his head. From his position, he'd caught a view of the sky.
Pain sank claws into his shoulder and both legs when he moved. He cursed.
Neither of the women reacted.
("Buffy should go, if we split up. She can defend herself--") and you're an untrained Slayer, outdoors, after sunset, he added to himself.
("Against a dozen or more enemies?") Khadija looked away.("I know Baghdad, as it has been and now. You don't, sir. No matter how strong she is, she can only aim in one direction at a time, I would think.")
"She's right," Buffy admitted. "Tell her ok, but please-- Tell her...I'm sorry how I acted before." She'd been holding the baby, who was now wrapped in her jacket, sound asleep. "I'll keep Qusay safe," she promised, looking into Khadjia's eyes.
The woman nodded. She kissed the baby's nose. Riley watched her slip away into a nearby, shadowed alley. She moved gracefully, in total silence. Like Buffy, he realized.
"You were right. Earlier." The tightness in Buffy's voice brought his gaze to her face.
She sat next to him, seeming on the verge of tears. Riley took her hand in his own. "Right how?"
"About Khadija....and everything. I-- I forgot to be Buffy, somewhere. Not the Slayer. Not 'Spike's girlfriend.' The First was killing them. It sent the Bringers-- and the Ubervamps. It--she--talked one of my girls into hanging herself. I had to be whatever it took to beat that."
"You should be proud of yourself, Buffy! I didn't mean---"
"Yeah. And now we get to pay for it. Spike's dead, so's Amanda, and Anya. And--I was thinking of forcing Khadija to come with us
to London, or the United States. Thinking that she couldn't
possibly understand how important this is, or what it could mean to her. She does. It's not her, or you."
Riley didn't know what response to make.
"If---If I stay here for a while-- I could. She's not too old to learn.Or maybe there is a way to , to un-Slayer her. I'd have to ask Willow. But--"
"I'll help you, if that's what you want," he told her. "You know I
would."
"Part of me--keeps hoping you'll say you want things to be the way they were. I know that's not gonna happen. I... I never stopped caring, Riley. You ought to hear me say . Even if it's 'just friends.' you want."
Riley hesitated, and then leaned in close, kissing her; a light brush of his mouth against hers.
"I didn't either," he said, when they separated. "But, do you know what you want?" He was uncomfortably aware of her warmth, the smell of her perfume and hair...If it hadn't been for the circumstances, he would have tried for considerably more than a kiss.
"I'm not sure. Except that I don't ever want to go back to
thinking like that. Or being alone with the Slayerness. Let somebody
else have it. If--If I go home and slip into being the 'old me' again, someday that'll be all that's left."
"Then, find another way. Change the rules. Not just for Slayers,
for you." He cracked a smile. "Nobody's better at that than you
are. Why should everyone else have all the fun?"
Buffy began to grin. "Good point." She feigned shock. "You, advocating rebellion? The flouting of authority? Now I've heard everything. You're a bad influence, Mr.Finn."
"No, ma'am. I'm an anarchist."
They held their composure. Briefly.
Khadija appeared, escorted by a squad of American soldiers.Buffy and Riley received some odd looks before they could stop laughing.
They were driven to the nearest base. Buffy was quiet. She kept a possessive arm around his waist. Riley would have returned the favor, had pain not stopped him.
He wasn't too worried. There'd be time for.. everything, later. Now that she wasn't the "Chosen One", they could make it work.
He wrapped her in his arms, clumsily, and let his eyes close again.
Washington, D.C.
Riley knocked once, and entered his c.o.'s office. "You wanted to see me, sir."
Colonel Fischer jerked a thumb to his left. Riley tensed as he caught sight of the person sitting in front of Fischer's desk.
"Buffy." He acknowledged her with a tight nod and crooked smile. "Long
time no see."
"Same here. Sam's not with you?" She looked past him.
Riley held in his temper. "Sam's...gone.Left a few months ago."
Buffy's eyes widened at his curt tone. " I didn't--I'm sorry. "
"You didn't come here to discuss my personal life," Riley answered.He
forced himself not to meet her eyes. "What do you need?"
Buffy brought him up to speed on Sunnydale's last days, as Riley and Fischer listened . While the Colonel hadn't been involved with the Initiative, he'd heard enough about Sunnydale to take the Slayer seriously. "So now we have approximately a hundred new Slayers that we've located, planetwide. The surviving Watchers keep sending new reports. There's one that-- we need to send someone to her, to make contact. I'm going. It's--gonna be more difficult than most."
"She's not Stateside?"
Buffy shook her head. "Middle East. Somewhere in Iraq."
"Yes, that would qualify as difficult," Riley said wryly . "We can get you in with a military escort, or backup--"
Why did her next suggestion surprise him?
Riley looked at her hopeful expression, complete with puppy-dog eyes, and gave in.
They walked out of the office together, after a long discussion of the needed arrangements. Buffy was almost giddy as they went to requisition equipment.
. "I'm really glad you volunteered, Riley. I..." she lowered her voice, reaching up to touch his cheek. "I've missed you."
"I haven't."
The coldness in those words could have frozen a volcano. Buffy dropped her hand.
Riley felt her staring at his back as he resumed walking. He felt a pang of regret, but suppressed it ruthlessly. This is a job, Finn. Not a date.
She's made her choice. You want leftovers again?
They met Giles at the hotel where the Scoobies and some of the new Slayers were headquartered. By then, Riley was on the verge of losing patience with the "real" Slayer altogether.
"Giles. Hey." He inclined his head . "I've been trying to explain Middle Eastern customs to Buffy. Could use some assistance. She's not happy with what I've been able to tell her so far."
"C'mon!" Buffy protested. "Face veils and all that junk? We're going in to find this girl and get the heck to safety, not--"
"Do you want us to have to fight every step of the way? And you don't know how she may react to Americans. Believe it or not, Buffy, not every Iraqi thinks our presence in their country is a blessing from heaven. Are you planning to force her to accompany you, if she objects to what you have in mind?"
Buffy stared at him. "That won't...what girl would want to live
like that? If she had a better option?"
Riley sighed, exasperated. "Talk to her, Giles. I'll be back in a minute. Want to go over some stuff with Willow before we head out."
She caught up to him at the suite that housed Willow and Kennedy. Willow agreed that a locator talisman would be possible. "Sure, no probs. I can do it in my sleep! Not that I've tried," she added quickly.
Kennedy snickered. Riley hid a smile at the redhead's unintentional double-entendre.
Buffy bit her lip. He glanced at her questioningly.
"I thought we could talk. In private," she said.
Riley shrugged. " 'K by me." He let her lead him outdoors, to a garden at the side of the building.
"Why did...you say that?"
"That I don't miss you? Because it's true." Riley ran a hand through his hair. "Buffy, I got some major lessons fed to me lately, about not lying to myself, or living in the past. I loved you, but I'm not certain we ever would have worked. You have your own road--you've always made your own rules, your own destiny. That's not everyone's purpose. What you've accomplished is...incredible. Got to say though, living with a Great Hero? Not the most cozy or happy arrangement for the significant other. No man, or woman, wants to feel like they always come second. I understand why it had to be that way, but---" he gestured.
"So, it's my fault?"
"Breakups are hardly ever one person's fault," Riley said. "I know I screwed up. Never said otherwise. I hope I've learned something from it besides 'don't let vampire whores drink from me.' Have you?"
Before Buffy could answer, they were, naturally, interrupted.
A black-dressed figure entered the garden. Riley fought the urge to snarl. Here we go again.
"Buffy." Angel walked over, nodding to Riley. "I-- Willow e-mailed me. Told me everything that's been going on."
"Angel, now's really not a good time." The Slayer scowled at her ex. "I phoned you as soon as I could. The rest, I didn't tell you for a reason. Your 'subordinates.'Not the kind of people I hang with, ya know?"
Angel hesitated. "That's...complicated. But--you didn't tell me Spike was dusted."
"Why should I have? It's nothing to do with you."
The souled vampire was thrown by Buffy's assertion. "I thought--you said maybe, if things were different..."
"What? Spike's gone so you just stroll in and act like the last two years didn't happen? No. "
"Come on, Buffy-- I was only--"
"Stalking still isn't a turn-on for me.Never was. Right now, I've got work to do. If you won't help, leave me alone. You're not helping!"
Riley cheered silently.
Angel left not long afterward, in a sulk that would have done a three-year-old credit, in Riley's (unvoiced) opinion.
They landed at an army airfield in Baghdad two days later. Buffy had been resistant to the idea of wearing "that ugly army uniform", but given a choice between that and traditional Iraqi outfits, she relented. "Long black skirts and cloth over my face--uh uh. Whole world of no. Been there, done that." She didn't elaborate; wanting the argument to remain closed, Riley didn't ask.
Just a mission, he kept repeating. "Thou shalt not fantasize on how hot an agent looks while you're out in the field", as the Colonel would say.
Damn it.
The smells of smoke and gasoline were thick outside the plane. Silence
lay over the area, as if the city were somehow holding its' breath.
The regiment's commander refused to allow them to go off base without
bulletproof gear, and extra weapons. Buffy took in the sight of the
old bloodstains and charred areas on the base's north wall, and obeyed,
with uncharacteristic silence. The jokes dropped away, she wore her
"Slayer's gameface" as Riley had learned to think of it during Sunnydale.
Part of him was relieved. The change made not visiting Memory Lane
that much easier for him to pull off.
Consulting a map, and Willow's talisman, they determined that the new Slayer was somewhere in the city itself, in the western districts.
"I don't speak the language. Do you?"
Riley nodded. "My accent's not great, but passable. My instructor said people should be able to understand me."
They skirted what looked like a riot in progress. Buffy wanted to jump in. Riley vetoed that firmly. "You don't know how to use a gun, even a handgun.. We don't fight unless we have to. Plus, do you want to have to try explaining to this girl why you killed one of her friends, or possibly family member?"
"Do you think--" the Talisman all but flew out of Buffy's hand. "This way!"
He followed her to a house that appeared deserted. Old burn marks still blackened one wall. Windows were broken. Buffy pushed open a door.
"Hello?" Riley called. "Is anyone here?"
("Asalam Alaikum.") A tall, dark-skinned woman walked down a staircase, holding a baby in her arms. ("If you are looking for my husband, I must say again that he is not here.")
Riley returned her greeting. ("We need to speak with you, ma'am.")
She glanced at Buffy. ("Your...wife, or colleague? She doesn't speak our language?")
("I regret that she doesn't.")
("My name is Khadija al-Nammari." )
Riley introduced himself and Buffy, and tried to explain. Khadija listened courteously. ("Yes. I have dreamed...Can--You undo what is done? This--power that has taken ahold of me?" )
"She wants what?" Buffy exploded upon hearing Riley's translation.
"She has a family here, Buffy. Her husband, and that's their baby, their son. Her future is here."
"Not anymore." The Slayer's face was like stone. "She can't go back to being normal. If she stays here, alone, sooner or later vampires will find her."
"Then teach her what she needs to know. Believe me, violence? Not a big surprise to these people. She should have more than two choices. There was a time when you believed that too. Screw destiny. What makes the difference is us."
He could see the struggle in Buffy's face. Listen to me, for once,
he thought imploringly. If you won't hope even for her, how can you hope for yourself?
Did she even want to?
Why did he--
Noise from outside the house seized his attention. "Oh God--Buffy, get away from the windows! Get down!" he shouted at her. "Khadija--"
The older woman dashed for cover, having already recognized the sound of guns.
It was the last Riley heard, before the house exploded.
Something heavy and sharp crashed into him, drove him to the floor.
He blacked out.
* * *
When he woke, he was lying on soft earth. Khadija and Buffy were hovering over him. The Iraqi helped him to sit up.
He tasted blood in his mouth, and spat several times, trying to get rid of the foulness.
"Are you all right?" Wincing, he tried to remember how to ask the question in Arabic. Khadija gave him a thin smile.
("I am not hurt. The house burned-- she had to carry you out. Do you feel you can walk? Or should I go for help?")
Riley shook his head. From his position, he'd caught a view of the sky.
Pain sank claws into his shoulder and both legs when he moved. He cursed.
Neither of the women reacted.
("Buffy should go, if we split up. She can defend herself--") and you're an untrained Slayer, outdoors, after sunset, he added to himself.
("Against a dozen or more enemies?") Khadija looked away.("I know Baghdad, as it has been and now. You don't, sir. No matter how strong she is, she can only aim in one direction at a time, I would think.")
"She's right," Buffy admitted. "Tell her ok, but please-- Tell her...I'm sorry how I acted before." She'd been holding the baby, who was now wrapped in her jacket, sound asleep. "I'll keep Qusay safe," she promised, looking into Khadjia's eyes.
The woman nodded. She kissed the baby's nose. Riley watched her slip away into a nearby, shadowed alley. She moved gracefully, in total silence. Like Buffy, he realized.
"You were right. Earlier." The tightness in Buffy's voice brought his gaze to her face.
She sat next to him, seeming on the verge of tears. Riley took her hand in his own. "Right how?"
"About Khadija....and everything. I-- I forgot to be Buffy, somewhere. Not the Slayer. Not 'Spike's girlfriend.' The First was killing them. It sent the Bringers-- and the Ubervamps. It--she--talked one of my girls into hanging herself. I had to be whatever it took to beat that."
"You should be proud of yourself, Buffy! I didn't mean---"
"Yeah. And now we get to pay for it. Spike's dead, so's Amanda, and Anya. And--I was thinking of forcing Khadija to come with us
to London, or the United States. Thinking that she couldn't
possibly understand how important this is, or what it could mean to her. She does. It's not her, or you."
Riley didn't know what response to make.
"If---If I stay here for a while-- I could. She's not too old to learn.Or maybe there is a way to , to un-Slayer her. I'd have to ask Willow. But--"
"I'll help you, if that's what you want," he told her. "You know I
would."
"Part of me--keeps hoping you'll say you want things to be the way they were. I know that's not gonna happen. I... I never stopped caring, Riley. You ought to hear me say . Even if it's 'just friends.' you want."
Riley hesitated, and then leaned in close, kissing her; a light brush of his mouth against hers.
"I didn't either," he said, when they separated. "But, do you know what you want?" He was uncomfortably aware of her warmth, the smell of her perfume and hair...If it hadn't been for the circumstances, he would have tried for considerably more than a kiss.
"I'm not sure. Except that I don't ever want to go back to
thinking like that. Or being alone with the Slayerness. Let somebody
else have it. If--If I go home and slip into being the 'old me' again, someday that'll be all that's left."
"Then, find another way. Change the rules. Not just for Slayers,
for you." He cracked a smile. "Nobody's better at that than you
are. Why should everyone else have all the fun?"
Buffy began to grin. "Good point." She feigned shock. "You, advocating rebellion? The flouting of authority? Now I've heard everything. You're a bad influence, Mr.Finn."
"No, ma'am. I'm an anarchist."
They held their composure. Briefly.
Khadija appeared, escorted by a squad of American soldiers.Buffy and Riley received some odd looks before they could stop laughing.
They were driven to the nearest base. Buffy was quiet. She kept a possessive arm around his waist. Riley would have returned the favor, had pain not stopped him.
He wasn't too worried. There'd be time for.. everything, later. Now that she wasn't the "Chosen One", they could make it work.
He wrapped her in his arms, clumsily, and let his eyes close again.