Title: Butterfly Ops
Author: Alexandra Huxley
Rating: R
Pairing: B/R
Spoilers: General spoilers through Bring On the Night
(BtVS, 7th season).
Disclaimer: Story and original characters are mine,
everything else belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy,
and a lot of other people who aren't me.
Distribution: The answer's probably yes, but please
ask.
Author's notes: This is a sequel to Celestial Light.
(CL is available at
http://home.mindspring.com/~jenkel/fanfic/index.html
If you didn't read that, then you'll probably wonder
how we got to this place.) Thanks to Cynthia, Moe and
Jess for beta-ing. And it is impossible to adequately
convey my thanks to Diana for her C&C. But (sorry D,
I couldn't help it) I will try.
Summary: Fifteen years after "As You Were," Buffy and
Riley are working together again.
Feedback: Is greatly appreciated! Send to
alexandrahuxley@...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Butterfly Ops
By Alexandra Huxley


Chapter Forty-Seven

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



Before she was even fully conscious, Buffy was tearing
the oxygen mask off her head – which ended up being a
good thing, because otherwise it would have been
incredibly uncomfortable when her jaw dropped open.

They’d landed in the middle of a dust-storm – a
magical, Technicolor, fairy-dust storm, with colors
swirling, whipped up by a whistling wind; scarlet and
rose and marigold and coral – a virtual color palette
come to life. As the wind died and the stardust
settled, instead of fading, the colors grew more
intense, forming hazy plumes spiraling up towards the
sky.

“That must have been some hell of a ‘moment,’” Brady
murmured from over her left shoulder.

As impressive as the colorscape was, however, it was
hard not to notice that the plumes were actually
almost entirely made up of flames. Flames made up of
the most brilliant colors ever, but flames
nonetheless.

“Great,” Sprague muttered. “What now?”

Buffy looked at Graham, his eyes wary as he scanned
the ring of fire, his clothes covered in dead
butterfl-

Ick, she thought, glancing down and noticing that her
clothes were covered as well. In her hair, too? Oh,
that was so gross. She brushed herself off.

Anyway, she knew exactly what Graham was thinking:
they needed to know what was on the other side; needed
to know if it was worth walking through fire to get
it.

She looked up to see that he had already walked
forward. Before she had a chance to say,
‘supernatural healing powers,’ he reached his hand out
and stuck it into the flame.

Buffy wasn’t close enough to grab him back.
“Graham...”

“Not hot,” he said, surprised – and obviously relieved
– as he leaned further in. “Not even really all that
warm.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

O.k., then. With only a second’s hesitation – walking
into a bonfire, no matter how not-hot it was, just
wasn’t a thing you’d normally do – she followed. The
others weren’t too far behind.

Actually, weren’t far behind at all – Sprague almost
ran into her when she stopped short as she emerged on
the other side and saw the welcoming party – or
welcoming regiment, rather – at the
not-so-comfortable-distance of fifty feet away at the
moment. The only reason that they hadn’t noticed the
team – only partially obscured by the thick fog of
color – was that they were marching in the other
direction.

There were a lot of them – that much was obvious, even
though the front lines weren’t visible through the
haze. And, if she had to commit, Buffy was confident
enough to say they came from the same gene pool as the
men she’d fought on the bluff. At the very least,
they all seemed to shop at Tomahawks-‘R-Us. Her hand
instinctively went to her knife – or, actually, Shadow
Riley’s knife – making sure it was where it needed to
be, should it be required.

A hint of a smile appeared on Graham’s face as he
whispered, “Let’s split them up – you take the hundred
on the left, we’ll take the hundred on the right.
Anyone still standing after that can deal with the
rest.”

At least he had a sense of humor about it. “Oh,
Graham,” she sighed. “Don’t exaggerate. There’s
only, like, seventy-five on the left side.”

In his – as usual – unhelpful way, Brady asked,
“Anyone want to take bets on what they’re heading
towards?”

She could only shake her head no – that wasn’t
something she could joke about. Bets weren’t
necessary. She had absolutely no doubt what was on
the other side: Riley. Her feet propelled her
forward.

“Buffy – wait.” As if the words themselves weren’t
enough, Graham’s voice betrayed his concern. His
attention was focused on the regiment; he was
obviously calculating the odds as he spoke. “Do you
actually have a plan here?”

Of course she did. Turning to him, she waved her
knife in the direction of the guards. “We stop them.
We find Riley. We take him...home.”

Could have come out a little stronger on that last
word there, Buff.

Graham’s eyes wandered to Joe and the men from the
tribe; Buffy had no doubt that he was concerned about
his own team, as well. He was probably used to more
back-up; either that, or sides that were a bit more
even.

Honestly? She was, too. But numbers didn’t really
matter in this case; Willow’s power was enough to
annihilate the army with a wave of her hand.

Not that Willow would do that, even if it were the
only way to save Riley’s life. Not to save anyone’s
life, in fact; controlling the magic was one thing;
dealing with the darker side another entirely. Buffy
couldn’t think of anything – including, possibly,
Xander – that would make Willow ever again use magic
to hurt, much less kill, anyone or anything. Even
shadowy spirit guys who vanished into thin air instead
of crumpling in a heap on the ground.

What Willow would do, however, was make it a fair
fight, holding back the masses and only letting
through the amount the team could handle. “Will...”

Willow nodded and handed the taser she was holding
over to Ana. “Just say when.”

Giving one last look to Graham, Buffy raised her
eyebrows and smiled. “When.”

Without a care as to whether anyone was following her,
she strode over to one of the guards who happened to
have the misfortune of being in the last line. She
tapped him on the shoulder. “Where are we going? Can
I come?” As soon as he turned, she gave him a punch
that sent him flying.

That got their attention. As one, ten men whirled
around and came at her.

Ten?

Five was a good number. Five was probably the number
she’d have chosen. Ten, however? Gee, thanks, Will.

It seemed to be the right amount, though. Apparently,
Willow had been through enough of the
messing-with-Buffy-boyfriends things to know that in
this situation, ten was a good call.

Buffy was sure the rest of the team would have helped
if they hadn’t had their own concerns. Like, for
example, that the tasers didn’t work. Modern weapons
didn’t seem to have an effect in this odd little
Wonderland. The only way to kill these guys – or make
them disappear at least – was through good old sweat
equity. The weapons that worked were the ones
propelled by muscle. It wasn’t a problem for Buffy –
though she liked the toys, she’d never depended on
them. Her Lady Guinevere dagger had been the weapon
of choice for the last few years; today she was liking
the knife she’d gotten from Riley on the bluff. Plus
there were always her own two hands.

Two hands she was making good use of. Like, for
example, by flattening some guy’s face with her fist.
That one was dedicated to Kate – it was hard enough at
that age to swallow your pride and ask for help, but
when it’s your father’s new girlfriend that you have
to go to? Yes. Kate definitely deserved a punch or
two in her honor.

Annie, too – whose sweet, kind eyes should never have
had to cry for the loss of one parent, much less two.
Annie, sweetie, this one’s for you. Buffy brought her
elbow up and demolished another guy’s chin.

And, of course, she couldn’t leave Liam and Jack out
of the fun. She kicked straight at someone’s gut,
taking that guy out and the one behind him.

Despite focusing on her own targets, Buffy was highly
aware of the others fighting around her. Joe and his
friends had been trained well; Graham and his guys –
now that they’d fully accepted the dimension’s
no-taser policy – even better. Everyone was more than
holding their own; they didn’t need her.

She went into Slayer blur status – high-speed,
slow-motion, pure destruction mode, working her way
into the thick of things. Out of sight of everyone
she’d come with, all she registered now was blood and
bones – her hands giveth, her hands taketh away. Or
at least, someone taketh away – these were definitely
the same guys from the bluff, the same spirits who
vanished into thin air upon receiving the mortal blow.


That part wasn’t exactly breaking news; not nearly as
disturbing as the realization that she wasn’t getting
the rush she usually did. As the enemy’s ranks grew
thinner, there was a vague, unsettled blah-ness, one
that was highly unusual for her, especially in the
heat of battle. She was beginning to feel apprehensive
– nervous, actually, of how Riley would react when he
saw her; so much so that she actually began to pull
some punches now that she was nearing the front lines.


She preferred to have a challenge to focus on instead;
it was almost a disappointment that these guys weren’t
fighting harder. They seemed to know they didn’t
really stand a chance, despite their numbers. They
seemed to know they were just –

“You have my knife.”

Buffy whirled around to see a familiar face – though
not the one she’d been hoping for, apprehensively or
not – staring back at her. The Princess herself, live
and in person. Live and particularly gorgeous in
person. Oh, and holding a fairly large, fairly
imposing knife, by the way. So much for the not being
evil thing.

“You have my boyfriend,” Buffy said, knocking the
knife out of the Princess’ hand and throwing a punch
that should have sent her sprawling.

It didn’t, though. Instead, the other woman merely
looked amused as she took a step back and rubbed her
jaw. Her eyes crinkled as she cocked her head. “I
didn’t expect you to be this soft. You’re so strong
in his dreams.”

“I...” Buffy’s arm stopped in mid-air at an awkward
angle, still drawn back to strike. “What?” Soft?
Who the hell did this chick think she was?

The Princess reached out to touch Buffy’s hair, which,
though a little unsettling, didn’t seem to be at all
threatening, especially when accompanied by a
murmured, “He loves you very much.”

Dropping her hand to her side, Buffy decided not to
ask the majority of the questions running through her
head at the moment, a key one being: How could you
possibly know that?

There was only one question worth asking right now.
“Where is-?”

“Kasey!” came Riley’s voice from somewhere within a
sea of men. “A little help?”

Tears sprang to Buffy’s eyes as she turned. Thank
God. Thank you, thank you, thank you, God.

And, um... Kasey? He called her Kasey? Like, as in,
‘we know each other well enough to have cute little
nicknames and, no, she’s not evil’ Kasey?

“Excuse me,” the Princess said, heading in the
direction of Riley’s voice. Over her shoulder, she
called to Buffy, “You should come, too. He’s nice to
watch.”

Yes, thank you. I was actually aware of that. Did
you catch the ‘my boyfriend’ part?

Since when did My Little Princess have any right to be
the one inviting Buffy to come along, much less be
saying anything that sounded even slightly
proprietary?

Bitch.

Sigh.

Be nice, Buffy. Especially since this odd development
called into question the ‘evil’ determination.

Unfortunately, however, it also helped bring the
apprehension rushing back, and Buffy found that her
feet were dragging as she followed Kaseniios... –
o.k., it really was a mouthful – through the tinted
mist. She just wasn’t sure about how this was going
to go. She’d tried not to dwell too much on that over
the course of the day, focusing instead on just
getting to him. But this was going to be it. She
figured she’d have an idea as soon as she saw him, or,
rather, as soon as he saw her. She’d see it in his
eyes. What ‘it’ was was the big question. And she
wasn’t entirely sure she actually wanted to know the
answer.

Thankfully, some of the spirit men noticed her and
detached themselves from the clump Kasenii – that
princess really needed to get a more easily
pronouncable name – had waded into. A few more
seconds of relief. Actually, a few more minutes – the
closer she got to Riley the more intense the fighting
became. The Maymaygwayshi had apparently sent the
elite team up to the front. The others were merely
easily beatable cannon fodder compared to these guys.

Still, it didn’t take long before she’d disposed of
enough men for her to see Kasen... Fine. Whatever.
... Kasey kicking up a storm. The Princess was good;
had to give her that. Good, and, it seemed, very
protective of Riley; as he was of her. So, maybe, not
so good. Buffy didn’t even need to physically see him
to know that he and Kasey had settled into a rhythm,
working in tandem; it was clear from the way the
bodies were flying.

The whole fighting thing was like a dance – except
that the object was to kill, not to tango. There was
an intimacy to it, though; something almost sensual.
Knowing how the other person moved; anticipating how
his body would react and respond. Recognizing the
patterns his hands made, the thrust of his weapon.

Once you’d done it long enough, you started to see the
threads fit into the tapestry. You could look at the
way a demon’s throat had been slashed and know that
the knife had been wielded by Angel rather than Spike;
you could see a body respond to a punch and know
whether it had been Wesley or Gunn who had delivered
the blow.

You could watch the Princess smile and know that it
was because Riley had just sent someone her way,
giving her the kill – the kind of thing Riley would
only do if he had absolutely no doubt that Kasey knew
the dance.

That in itself was almost a knife in Buffy’s gut, one
that she decided to use as motivation. Giving in to
that sudden feeling of defeat would do no one any
good. She had to just do her job and fight the fight
and cross the Riley/Kasey bridge when she came to it.
Which, apparently, was right about now, because, as
the last of her men evaporated, she could see Kasey
reach over for the collar of a guy who was standing in
front of what Buffy assumed to be Riley, now no more
than ten, maybe fifteen feet away.

Close enough, at least, for Buffy to see Kasey grin as
she pulled the guy away and say something about
a...did she say ‘sex friend’? No. She couldn’t
possibly have...

Well, she definitely said something to that effect,
because Buffy’s first impression of Riley was that he
looked damn cute when he blushed. The bruise on his
cheek and the blood trailing down his jaw did nothing
to diminish that fact.

She didn’t have much time for a second impression,
however, because as she watched, he looked up in the
direction that Kasey was pointing and saw Buffy. He
closed his eyes for a second and then opened them
again, almost as though he couldn’t quite believe it.
The weapon he was holding – the incredibly cool
weapon, by the way – dropped to his side, and it was
only thanks to Kasey’s quick reaction that he didn’t
become the fifteenth dead man right then and there,
due to a spear coming at his head.

Kasey grabbed it out of the air right before it hit
him. She shook her head and smiled indulgently – not
at all the reaction Buffy would have expected, given
the circumstances – before saying, “Go.”

Buffy stood rooted in place – glad, for once, that
there was no one left for her to kill – completely
unable to move as she watched him make his way to her.
He hadn’t smiled, hadn’t given any indication that he
was happy she was here.

She wasn’t going to concentrate on that, nor would she
think about the two times he had already almost broken
up with her in their first few weeks together, or
about the time long before that when he’d left her –
literally – in the helicopter’s dust. Instead she’d
just appreciate the beauty of the man as he raised his
blade to dispatch of the spirit guy who had just
stepped into his path, and as he barely flinched when
another guy suddenly emerged from the fog beside him.

That one he didn’t even bother to look at. He just
flipped his weapon and yanked it back, sending the
dagger end into the guy’s chest.

Was it sick that she found that incredibly appealing?

Probably.

It was a nice thing to dwell on, though. Much nicer
than all the possible opening lines that were running
through her head, like, for example, ‘Nice kill. And
speaking of dead things – I don’t suppose Sam is
lurking somewhere nearby?’ Or, ‘Does the fact that
you’re out here mean that someone mentioned to you the
whole thing about you getting to choose if you’re
coming back? Because I’m not sure I’m above using the
Guilt card and mentioning how devastated your kids
will be if I don’t bring you home.’

No. Neither of those things would work. ‘I make a
mean veggie lasagna and wait ‘til you see what I can
serve up for dessert’ wasn’t any better. Since he was
now only a couple steps away from her, she decided to
just go with, “Hi.”

Apparently, she’d made the right choice, because even
that seemed to overwhelm him. He looked down and
turned his head away, quietly asking, “How long have I
been here?”

Easy question to start out with. Good – she’d rather
take some time to gradually work her way up to the
hard stuff. “Four days.”

His whole body seemed to relax, although his voice did
still catch when he said, “So my kids...?”

So much for gradually. A mumbled, “O.k.,” was about
the best she could do with that one. Despite the
questionable motivation, she debated adding that that
wouldn’t be the case if Riley decided not to come back
with her. She finally decided not to. He was far
from clueless; the thought had probably occurred to
him.

He was looking at her with what could only be
described as trepidation. Because he knew she was
here to take him back and he didn’t want to go?
Because he was trying to figure out how to tell her
that Sam was waiting for him somewhere in the middle
of this rainbow, and that he couldn’t bear to leave
his wife? Because he couldn’t even bring himself to
touch Buffy, couldn’t even hug her good-bye – again?

“I did notice that, you know,” Buffy blurted out, only
barely managing to keep the suddenly threatening tears
from escaping. “That you hugged Dawn good-bye and not
me.”

O.k., so yes, maybe someone listening might think that
was kind of out of the blue; might have even gone so
far as to be confused, as Riley clearly was. No
problem. She could be more direct. “Don’t I at least
get a good-bye kiss? I mean, these last few weeks
were...”

Damn it, Buffy. Since when did you become a sniveling
idiot?

She briskly wiped her eyes. This was so not the right
path to go down; so not the point. Especially when he
was just staring at her, completely unmoved.

Fine. If that’s the way it was going to be... There
were other ways to get the job done.

Pretend it’s not Riley; pretend it’s just some guy who
you’ve been sent in to save. Deal with the emotion
later.

In a calmer – and much more impersonal – voice, she
said, “Riley – you need to know what this means. I
don’t know what Kasey told you, but if you stay here,
you don’t get to come back. Your kids...”

Buffy clamped her mouth shut as soon as she saw the
look of pain flash over his face. If he’d already
made his choice, she wasn’t going to make it harder
for him; wasn’t going to make him pay for the guilt
she felt for not protecting him well enough in the
first place.

No, Buffy. That’s the whole point – to make it harder
for him. To make him understand that magic had
brought him here; that there were reasons to come
back.

“Damn it, Riley – they need you. They can’t... I
can’t...” So much for keeping the emotion at bay.
“It was all a spell. It’s not real...”

Her voice trailed off as she realized he didn’t seem
to be paying attention. Instead, his eyes were
riveted to something behind her.

Buffy whipped her head around to see that the lavender
mist had begun to settle, slowly revealing a ring of
forty men, encircling them. Make that forty heavily
armed men, whose weapons – bows and arrows, tomahawks,
spears, clubs – were all aimed high enough to take off
the head of a six-foot tall man.

Turning her back to Riley, Buffy realized she was kind
of glad. She’d rather be fighting – even to the death
– than laying her emotions out and coming up empty.
She’d much prefer to be thinking about how to protect
him if all these men decided to fire – throw, zing,
whatever – at once.

“A little breathing room goes a long way,” she heard
Riley mutter unhappily.

She swiveled her head just enough to see that Kasey
had done the same thing she had, instinctively falling
back to protect Riley. Buffy supposed she should be
grateful to have, or rather, for Riley to have the
help; at the moment, however, the only thing that made
her even close to happy was that he didn’t seem to
want Kasey covering his back any more than he wanted
Buffy to be doing it. At least he wasn’t playing
favorites.

“So she’s really not evil?” Buffy kept her back to
Riley. It was easier to talk to him that way. If he
didn’t want to discuss anything personal, he could at
the very least clear up a thing or two.

“Apparently not,” he answered.

He might have said more if not for Kasey chiming in
with, “I’m standing right here, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” both Buffy and Riley mumbled at the
same time, in the same disgruntled tone, though for
entirely different reasons.

She glanced back to see him watching her. For the
first time since she’d seen him, he smiled. He said,
“So, I see you two have met.”

Buffy took a couple steps forward, giving Riley a
little more room even though – as he well knew – if
the arrows started flying, she’d be on top of him in
all of two seconds. Her primary motivation was still
to protect him, but she needed to get out of sensory
range. It was hard to stand that close and not be
able to touch him

“Was meeting the Princess everything you’d...
expected?” She caught herself right before she said
‘dreamed’; given the circumstances of this entire
situation, that would have been a very poor choice of
words.

“That’s a much longer conversation than I think we
have the time for,” Riley replied. Though he was
clearly still smiling, she could hear the sadness in
his voice.

She was determined to keep her tone light. “Maybe we
could all go out for coffee sometime.” Her eyes swept
the circle of men. “I’d love to hear all about it.”

That was apparently the complete wrong thing to say.
There was such a stillness coming from behind her that
she could actually feel it. It didn’t help that she
caught the loaded glance they exchanged. Loaded with
what, she wasn’t sure.

Kasey was the one who answered, albeit not by
addressing what Buffy had brought up. “Do you two
always talk this much? Don’t you think you should be
concentrating on other things? I mean, our odds don’t
seem to be getting any better.”

Yeah? Well... Listen up, Miss Princess, because if
you get to have Riley, then I at least get to speak my
mind.

Or, at least, that’s what Buffy would have said if she
hadn’t been trying to concentrate on whatever it was
that Riley had started muttering about doors slamming
and bears attacking and head games and...

“And what?” Buffy asked. She hadn’t come all this way
just to hear him have a conversation with himself.

Oh, she thought, as his arm slipped around her waist
and he pulled her to him the way the bad guys in the
movies always grabbed their human-body-shield
hostages.

Except the bad guys didn’t usually kiss her neck –
well, kiss the human-body-shields’ necks – in a way
that could be described as spine-tingling.

O.k. So maybe melting into his arms wouldn’t be the
worst thing. She could still hold on to her knife;
could still keep an eye on all the...

She closed her eyes as his hand made contact with the
exposed skin just above her waistband.

Well, really – who said battle dress needed to be
unfashionable?

Her eyes flew open. Battle dress, Buffy. As in, ‘the
heat of.’

“Um, Riley...” she said reluctantly. “I’m not sure if
this is the place...”

“No,” Riley answered, somehow spinning her around so
that she was facing him. “This is exactly the place.”
Though he hadn’t let go of his weapon, he didn’t seem
to be concerned about all the arrows aimed at his
head. “This is a weird kind of place. Things don’t
work the way they should.” He glanced around, his
eyes taking in the men encircling them. “They’re not
here to kill us. If they were, they would have done
it already.”

Interesting point. Still, Buffy noticed that Riley
was far from complacent, highly aware of everything
going on – how she was reacting to what he was saying;
how she was responding to what he was doing, i.e.,
tentatively running his hand through her hair; how
many weapons the opposing team had; and exactly what
he would do if they did, in fact, decide to use them.
The only thing he didn’t seem to be noticing at the
moment was Kasey standing directly behind him. Her,
he seemed to trust implicitly.

More so than he seemed to be trusting Buffy at the
moment. That obviously had to change. “Riley...”

He didn’t speak, didn’t respond in any way except to
look into her eyes, in a deep, probing kind of way.
Probing for what, specifically, she had no idea.

Reaching his hand out to her chin, he tilted her head
up. “Are you part of all this, too? Just part of the
game?”

Did he know there had been a spell? He obviously knew
something had been going on. And the ‘too’ seemed to
indicate that he’d already been played once – by Sam,
was the connotation. Buffy supposed it shouldn’t come
as a shock that he wasn’t sure where she came into it.


It seemed as though she needed to set him straight.
“Riley – though I may not have been the best
girlfriend in the world, I have never played games
with you.” She placed her hand – the one that wasn’t
holding the knife, of course – over his and brought it
to her mouth. Grinning, she added, “At least not ones
that were non-consensual.”

That at least got a bit of a reaction – a narrowing of
his eyes as he considered what she said; a touch of a
smile as he decided that it sounded like truth.

He leaned down and brushed her lips with the most
gentle of touches. Buffy grabbed his collar and
pulled him closer. She couldn’t help it. This had
been too long in coming to let him take his time.

Well, o.k. Only four days in coming. But a really
long four days.

She could feel his lips broaden into a smile of his
own as he took a step closer, mumbling, “Hi,” into her
lips. He put his hand to the back of her neck and
deepened the kiss. Much better. Much, much better.

So what if they were on a battlefield being watched by
forty armed men and one highly decorated princess?
This was a really nice kiss. This was...

“Exceptional.”

Knife in hand, Buffy whirled around to face the body
attached to the voice that had just spoken over her
shoulder. She faltered a bit when she realized who it
was. “Joe?”





TBC in Chapter 48



=====
Writing as Alexandra Huxley
http://home.mindspring.com/~jenkel/fanfic/index.html

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