“Anything for sale?”

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose as he glanced at the blonde Slayer standing before him in her training clothes. “No, Buffy. This sale business eludes me.”

“Oh, right, what, they aren't any sales in England?” she bantered and he shook his head.

“Not that I would know about. Anyhow, you are here for training. Not shopping.”

“I know, I know,” she lay her hands on her hips, cocking her head. “But seriously, I figure I better start shopping at the Magic Box since I spend so much time here. Hey…you ever thought of putting on a couple racks of clothes?”

“Clothes are not magickal, Buffy,” he answered wearily as he hung the punching bag from a hook in the ceiling. “Concentrate please. You never know when you may run into Glory again. You must be in peak condition.”

Buffy geared up to beat the hell out of the bag, and threw a couple jabs at it to warm up. “Seriously Giles. You're really being a stick in the mud. Training, training, training. That's all I do now. Geez…have you seen my muscles lately?”

He looked down at the tiny girl, raising his eyebrows and she hastened to exclaim, “Well…maybe you can't see them…but they're there!”

Shaking his head, he motioned for her to begin. Buffy focused all her attention on the bag, beginning to punch lightly, then harder, sweat appearing on her forehead as she kicked and punched the piece of helpless vinyl, her sleek muscles flexing with the exercise.

“Still at it, I see.”

She froze. All the color drained from her face as she gazed at Giles, who looked shell-shocked. Turning slowly, Buffy faced the door. “Riley,” she said blankly as she caught sight of the tall blond man who stood there.

He appeared uncertain as he dropped his bag, nodding to Giles. “Buffy, hi,” he said softly and she shook her head.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were fighting for the good of all military people in some remote area of God knows where?”

Clearing his throat, Giles left the room, mumbling a hello to the commando as he went. Riley took a step closer, and watched Buffy retreat. “Just hear me out,” he began, his expression earnest. “I spent a lot of time in the Jungle…with death on my heels every step of the way. And I came to some realizations Buffy…you're what I want. I'll take what I can get. I swear, I will.”

She hardened and craned her neck to look up at him. “Well that's very sweet,” she uttered sarcastically, “But I don't know what you think…that you can just waltz back into my life and expect things to be the same again? You've been gone for four months. Riley…”

“I know we can't go back,” he murmured. “I want us to go forward. Together.”

Helplessly, she shook her head. “God, I can't believe this. You know…you left. And yeah, I was wrecked. But now…it's different. I don't have a boyfriend and I like it. I'm learning to be Buffy…not Buffy and someone else. I can't go back, Riley. And I definitely can't go forward. Not with you.”

“But…I thought you would be glad…that I came back…”

“Why? Cause I ran after you? Yeah, I did. Didn't know that huh? Well, I did and I thought I wanted to catch you. At the time I did. But now, it's different. What we had,” she paused. “It wasn't real. No matter how much I tried to convince myself after you left…it didn't work. You may have loved me, but I never loved you. Not the way you wanted me to.”

His mouth twisted in a sneer as he stared down at her. “Because of Angel. I know you're still hung up on that.”

“Angel?” she said softly and then laughed without humour as she twisted on her heel and stalked around the room. “You know, I would really love to know what you think gives you the right to talk about him. I may have told you our history as a courtesy, but don't for one second think you understand,” she snapped.

“Well God Buffy, how the hell do you think I feel, how do you think I felt, knowing you still loved him? That my girlfriend cried out at night for some other guy? I mean, really, do you know how much that hurt?” he shouted and she rounded on him, her eyes flashing green fire.

“Do you know how much it hurt me, pretending to be completed by you, when my heart was still his?”

Gasping as soon as the words left her mouth, she clapped a hand over her lips, glancing up at him with widened eyes. Never had she thought she would let those words drip off her tongue. Never had she allowed herself to even think them, let alone say them. Riley's eyes darkened with rage and despair. He had known it, but hearing it said aloud was painful.

“You know, Buffy, I think you should take a good look at your life,” he muttered. “You actually think you're happy? Look at you. You're thin, pale, those circles under your eyes are obviously from lack of sleep…you're walking around dead.”

“I'm as happy as I'm gonna get. This is me, Riley,” she said quietly. “As I told you before, this is the package.”

“I just wonder what kind of package Angel got,” he said coldly and her eyes filled with bitter tears suddenly.

Buffy turned away, her shoulders quivering. “I don't want to talk about him.”

“You never really did,” he cried. “You told me the bare little details. He left you, and that's it. You should have fucking warned me, Buffy. Someone should have told me!”

“Told you what?” she screamed, losing all control, her voice breaking. “What the fuck do you want to hear?? Nothing is ever enough for you, is it?? What the hell do you want me to tell you?”

“That you would always love him!” he yelled back, getting up into her face, his mouth a pained slash, his eyes tortured. “That I would never be able to live up to that star crossed shit you two had going! I mean, really, Buffy, you should have warned me that he would always have your soul!”

“How could I tell you…” she said, her voice small, “when I didn't even know?”

Riley shrugged his shoulders fatally, his whole body wilting as he looked down at the tiny Slayer, his eyes enraged. “Don't act like the victim. And don't tell me you didn't know! You should have stopped me from falling for you…you should have told me, Buffy!”

“I didn't know!” she shouted, her body shaking with fury. “I didn't know! How could I know that I would always belong to him? Love isn't supposed to last forever, Riley! That's just in the movies…how could I ever have known that he would have this hold over me? He left! I should've stopped…and I'm sorry if I hurt you. I am. But I can't do anything about it.”

“I know,” he sighed. “Look, Buffy, I thought I could come back, I guess, but I don't know anymore. Sunnydale was always yours. I may have lived here for a few years, but it became…yours somewhere along the line during our relationship, and I can't look at it the same way.”

“I'm sorry,” she murmured, looking down at the lines her feet were tracing on the floor. “I really am, for lots of things. But I can't apologize for what I am. I just could never feel like you accepted me. The Slayer stuff. The baggage that brings.”

“I couldn't,” he admitted. “But I don't think that was our main problem.”

“Maybe not,” she allowed, her eyes shadowed with pain. “We never would have worked, Riley. Not to sound cliché, but it's better this way. You know, just Buffy and Riley. Not Buffy and Riley, together.”

His face clenched as he stared at her. “You're right,” he said wearily and then picked up his bag. “I'm going to go.”

“Ok,” she replied, nodding. “See you sometime?”

“I don't think so,” he answered, and she nodded again, knowing that was what his answer would be. “Bye, Buffy.”

“Bye,” she said softly, coming forward and hugging him for a quick moment. “I did care for you.”

“Not enough though,” he answered dully, and left the room without a backward glance.

Buffy looked around, her shoulders drooping. She felt like she should be crying or something, but nothing came. Her eyes remained dry. What's the matter with me? she asked herself. Shouldn't she be at least shedding a tear for what she had had with Riley? She supposed that would come later.

She realized it was the end of something tonight. She wasn't sure what. A lot of truths had been aired out. Buffy had come to tenuous terms with herself that she still harboured feelings for Angel. For years now, her heart had been cracking under the strain of pretending she didn't care about him. She was good at pretending that he meant nothing. Take the last time they had talked. The hallway had been roaring with the charged emotions between them as they shared a laugh, a little talk…and a closure of sorts.

Buffy had never admitted it to anyone, but that talk had been the worst she could ever imagine having with him. Even the cruel taunts from Angelus had been better than that cold, sterile, amiable chat they had in the hall outside her room. At least in the past, there was feeling. There was pain, or joy or tears, or cold hatred. But there was never what had been between them that day.

Indifference.

It had throbbed. Dead. They were dead. Everything was gone, shattered. Riley stood between them, but the real thing that loomed was time. Time had worked its will and the space between them was palpably large. It had yawned between them…the time they had been apart. Buffy wanted to weep at the memory.

Picking up her gloves, she started to punch the bag again, lunging and kicking and jabbing until she was soaked with sweat and her hair stuck to her forehead. Grunting, she righted it, then stabbed at it with her foot, wanting to destroy the bag, wanting to release the toxins in her blood.

“Geez…what the hell did the bag do?”

Buffy whirled, panting and stared at the girl who stood in the door, her eyes wide. “Cordy,” she gasped, holding her side. “What's up? What are you doing here?”

“Well…” Cordelia sighed, and came forward. “I have something to tell you…about Angel…”

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