The Song Remembers When
Chapter Two
RATING: PG
COUPLING: Buffy/Riley
SUMMARY: A/U - Riley has left Buffy, and this is 10 years into the
future.
DISCLAIMER: All BtVS characters belong to the wonderfully talented
mind of Joss Whedon. Sam and Riley's girls are my own though.
FEEDBACK: Pretty pretty please! I really hate to beg,but will .
SPOILERS: All of Season 5, and my own little universe.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is based on a Trisha Yearwood song called
"The Song Remembers When."
AUTHOR"S NOTE 2: Columbia is not in the middle of any election that
I'm aware of, but I chose it as my country in need of Graham and
Riley's help.
Riley pulled the covers up over his 6 year old daughter Hope, and
turned out the lamp next to her bed. 4 year old Tristan hadn't even
made it past the second page before she'd fallen asleep in Riley's
lap earlier. Looking down at his daughter his heart skipped a
beat. These wonders of life, this little treasures where his.
face. It made his heart ache when he looked at her, she reminded him
so much of Claire. Claire use to joke that she was lucky one of the
three girls looked like her, because nobody would believe that the
other two were hers. True, Tristan and his 8 year old, daughter
Jordan were spiting images of him, right down to his blue eyes and
smile. He placed the book they'd been reading back onto the
bookshelf and closed the door behind him.
Since Claire's death he had taken on the job of reading the girls
their bedtime stories. Riley enjoyed this time of the day he'd spend
with the girls, it was a nice way to unwind after a stressful day.
With the way the business was going, Riley couldn't always be counted
on for dinner, but story time was a different. This was their time.
Graham use to tease him about this, until he himself had the pleasure
of having the Finn girl's hanging on his every word. Now, when Uncle
Graham stayed for dinner it was he who read them their story.
Riley went into his room and pulled off his tie, which still hung
around his neck. The day had been stressful, and after a few hair
raising moments in Columbia , which he'd have to speak to Graham
about upon his return, he was bagged. Almost as much as he loved
being home with the girls, he hated being tied down to a desk, away
from the action. He stripped off his shirt and hung his suit pants
in the closet. He'd have to remember to ask Sam to take his cleaning
to the dry cleaners next week.
Riley jumped into the shower and stood under the hot spray, waiting
for it to massage the knots out of his shoulders. Yes, he would speak
to Graham when he got back. He started to hum to himself as he took
the soap in his hand. Without realising it he had started humming
"The Song Remembers When", and as he got to the chorus he stopped.
he showered
the soap off and turned the water off.
Stepping from the shower he looked around. The room seemed different
to him now. Gone were Claire's hair products and body creams. Gone
was the floral air freshener she used to love. Riley sat down on the
toilet seat head held in his hands. It was little things like this,
that reminded him that was Claire was gone. Actually everything
reminded him that Claire was gone. He felt a sudden pain his heart
and he heard a sob break from himself. Two years, and he still fell
apart at the strangest things.
Pulling himself to his feet he brushed at the tears that were rolling
down his face. Maybe he was just tired, a good nights sleep may
help. Walking back into the room he pulled his plaid flannel pants
and white t-shirt from the drawer, and pulled them on. Sitting on
the side of the bed he sighed to himself, the house was so quiet. At
least when Sam was home the music was playing down the hall in her
room, or at least they'd play Scrabble or something. He hated not
having someone to talk to. Almost as if someone read his mind the
phone rang.
"Hello."
"Hey, Man!"
"Where the hell are you!" Riley roared at Graham. After the
assassination attempt on one of their clients, Riley had been on pins
and needles. He hadn't talked to Graham and he was starting to
worry. Graham had gone down to take care of the security at the
National Election in Columbia, when an attempt was made on the
country's president. One of Graham's men, Paul Templeton, had been
killed and another seriously wounded.
"I'm still at the hotel Riley. Relax, I'm okay." Graham said trying
to calm Riley. Graham knew how hard it was for Riley to sit at home
when the shit hit the fan.
"Sure?"
"Positive. Not even a scratch. Look, we're going to have to tear
this job apart and find out what went wrong. I don't ever want to
live through another afternoon like this."
"Me neither." Sighed Riley remembering his own afternoon. The song,
then the 2 phone messages from Willow. He wanted to talk to Graham
about it, but he wasn't sure how to approach the subject. Willow,
was still a name that was off limits between them.
"Rye. What's wrong? And don't tell me it's nothing, I can hear it
in your voice." Graham asked carefully. Claire's death had hit them
all really hard, and there were still days when it was hard for Riley
to get out of bed. Between the girls and himself they had pulled
Riley back from the edge, and propped him back on his feet. Riley
was his best friend, and the last thing he hated to see was him
hurting.
"It can wait til you get back."
"Bad day?"
"Something like that." Riley whispered to himself.
"Look this call is business, so it's a write off. Spill." Graham
leaned back against the headboard for another soul-searching
conversation. Riley was the closest thing to a brother he had, and
the two shared everything.
"Sure? You're not off to pick up some latin lovely?"
"Spill it now, or I'm on the next plane to Boston! And you know what
I'm like asshole, when I don't get my beauty sleep."
Riley snorted at the biggest understatement of all time. Graham
needed his sleep or he was a total bear to deal with.
"It's just been a really strange day. I was at the gas station on
Park side, inside paying the bill, when a song came on the radio."
"You're depressed over a song."
"Not just any song. It was one by Trisha Yearwood."
"Okay Rye, I've told you no more country music. Pearl Jam good,
George Straight bad."
Riley laughed at his best friends attempt to cheer him up. "Look, I
know you like Terri Clark, so shut up."
"That's because she's cute."
"Look do you want to hear this story or not? Anyway the songs called
'The Song Remembers When', and well I started to remember when."
"Remember what?" Graham asked as he flipped the station on the hotel
t.v., trying to find a station that wasn't talking about the mess
that afternoon.
"Buffy."
Graham's attention snapped right back to his friend, not sure he'd
heard him right..
"Buffy? Did you say Buffy?"
"Yeah. Look, I know we haven't spoken about her in like, 5 years,
but it hit me today out of the blue."
"Yeah, that's definitely the blue.'
"It get's weirder. Willow called me and left two messages. She says
it's important and want me to call her back."
"Wow!" was all Graham could say once he'd heard the "W" name.
"I have this horrible nagging feeling that Buffy's dead. You and I
haven't spoken about her in years, but she still owns a large part of
my heart Gray. I don't know what I'll do if Willow's calling to tell
me she's dead." There he'd finally said out loud what he'd been
thinking. He realised that the tears a moment ago were not for
Claire, but for fear of Buffy being dead. Riley truly feared another
woman he loved was dead.
"Can it wait till I get back tomorrow? I'll sit with you when you
call." Offered Graham. Watching Riley deal with breaking up with
Buffy and mourning Claire's death were the two worst experiences of
Graham's life. He wasn't sure he wanted his friend alone when he got
the news.
"I owe it to Willow." Riley said pinching the bridge of his nose,
trying to hold back the tears that were once again threatening.
"Call me back."
"Okay."
"I'm catching the first flight out in the morning Rye. I'll be home
by noon."
"Good night Gray."
"Call me back Rye!"
"I'll try." And with that said Riley hung up the phone and got off
the bed. He slowly walked down the stairs to the kitchen to get
Willow's phone number off the counter. If anyone had seen him
walking down the stairs, they would have thought he was off to face
the gas chamber, not his French Provincial kitchen.
He flicked the light on again and grabbed another beer from the
fridge. His last beer still sat on the counter unfinished, he'd left
it there when he went to read to the girls. Walking to the counter
he sat down again on the same stool and picked up Willow's message.
"Riley, call me, it's important. Willow." Looking at the phone
number he realised the area code was for L.A. not Sunnydale. Maybe
Buffy had died in Angels' arms, just as she'd always wanted. Angel
was after all, the true love of Buffy's life.
Sighing realising he couldn't put it off any longer he picked up the
phone and dialled Willow's number. The phone rang three times before
it was picked up.
"Hello." Said a male voice.
"May I speak to Willow Rosenberg please." Riley asked trying to stay
calm.
"Riley?"
"Zander?" Riley was shocked at hearing Zander's voice. He was
prepared for Willow's but not Zander's. In the background he could
hear Willow.
"Is that Riley?"
"Yeah." Zander said as he handed Willow the phone. Riley could hear
them passing the phone back and forth between them, and he knew they
were talking but he couldn't figure out what they were saying.
Then he heard her quiet voice.
"Riley?" It was if he'd been hit by lighting. Buffy was alive and
on the other end of the line.
The story continues in chapter 3
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