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snoggedTitle: Mission X (1/?)
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Willow/Riley
Word Count: 1680
Overall Rating/Warnings: FRT-13/PG-13 (will be FRAO/NC-17 in later chapters); language, angst, drama, violence, het sex, sexual innuendo.
Setting: AU! Season 6. Parts of this story come from the established canon plot lines and others are my own desire to twist things my way.
Summary: When Riley comes back to Sunnydale, he stays for a reason that’s not Buffy.
Beta: the unmistakable![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
velvetwhip and angelskuuipo. All other mistakes are mine.
A/N: This is my second foray into a guilty pleasure pairing of mine, and I’m looking forward to exploring the possibilities as this story moves along.
All Chapters
The red Sharpie was a sturdy, solid reminder of her progress.
Each ‘x’ she marked on her calendar demonstrated how much she cared about achieving stone-cold sobriety. Each ‘x’ was a symbol of her determination to go back to being old reliable Willow, the Willow that her friends could count on instead of the scary, magic-fried Willow that she’d been. But more than any of that, each ‘x’ echoed Tara’s plea that she give up her addiction. It was meeting that condition that would ensure that they would get back together, and Willow was certain that being with Tara was far more important than levitating a pencil or saving the world from monsters.
It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that Tara was her everything. And the best part was that they were on speaking terms for the first time in weeks, and as she told Dawnie last night, there was no fear of hearing the tone of disconnection if a phone call was made.
Despite their current state of separation, there was no question that Tara still had a firm lock on Willow’s heart. Even if the magic was still embedded deep in her soul, even if the magic was something she’d fallen in love with first.
Willow tapped the end of the marker against the base of the calendar, feeling a surge of disappointment as she calculated the number of white spaces she still had left to fill. Each one of those white spaces represented the potential for getting back together with Tara. Each one represented another phone call, another coffee date, another drink with friends at the Bronze.
Each one meant that things were really getting better all the time, even though most days her fight felt awfully lonely. Her friends had done a little supporting, but she couldn’t ask for more than that. They all had their own lives to worry about, and she just needed to do what her father said when she was eight, and pull herself up by her bootstraps.
“Willow! You home?”
Buffy’s voice rose above her thoughts, and her ears immediately picked up on the extra footsteps. Footsteps that sounded more military than clunky, which meant Xander and Anya weren’t accompanying Buffy tonight. Still, the couple had promised to come over later for some doughnut-crunching and demon-talking so Willow certainly hoped they’d get here soon.
Heading down the stairs, Willow nearly tripped down the bottom three when she spotted a very familiar individual dressed in black spy gear. After all these months, and even though he was out of the Initiative, he remained the embodiment of GI-Joe-meets-Iowa-farm-boy. “Riley?”
Riley pivoted, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips, as Willow wrapped her arms around his neck. She still smelled like Earth, and patchouli, and lavender. And no matter how exotic the scents of the Argentinean rainforest were, he glad to know that some things just didn’t change back at home base.
As the two old friends separated, Riley gestured to the petite brunette standing beside him who looked like she’d walked out of a secret assassin film. “I’d like you to meet Sam. She’s my wife.”
Willow blinked twice, surprised by how difficult it was to respond to his comment. The normal response was probably along the lines of ‘congratulations,’ but her knowledge of Riley’s history in twisted government organizations made her think that maybe the relationship between them was more complicated than that.
Everything she’d ever learned about spies had been enough to make her believe that true professionals kept love separate from work. Sure, Riley had fallen in love with Buffy, but that was different. That was when he was willing to give it all up for her. But any good bookworm could tell you that falling in love had different consequences for people who live out their lives James Bond-style. It made them weak, vulnerable, and susceptible to attacks by bad guys who could take those loved ones hostage at any possible second and torture them in horrible ways.
Speaking of torture…
Buffy looked hard as steel, steadfast in her fight to kick the green monster of jealousy in the ass. Willow couldn’t help how strong Buffy was being considering how things ended with Riley. If Willow was in Buffy’s shoes, she probably would have knocked Sam’s lights out. Or at least, she’d have a pretty detailed fantasy about it so she wouldn’t actually need to hit GI-Jane because the odds of winning that fight weren't high.
So in accordance with the best friend code, she knew it was her duty to hate Sam with a fiery passion regardless of how awesome the woman might be. Furthermore, it was her duty to act as she normally would so that no one, except Buffy, would know. She would be required to behave as sweet Willow, so she offered Riley a broad smile and shook Sam’s hand.
“That’s great, Riley,” she murmured, plopping down on the floral print sofa, knowing that she’d be getting the details of their next Slayer mission soon. “I’m happy for you.”
The sound of a doorknob turning grabbed the attention of both soldiers and their hands dropped to their sides, fingering the leather band on their equipment belts, preparing to attack whatever came through the front door.
“Hey guys,” Xander chirped, stepping through the door with Anya attached to his hip. Barely missing a beat, his gaze locked on Riley and Sam. “Stand down, soldiers. Only weapon we’ve got is a box of jelly doughnuts.” He jiggled the pink box he held and grinned.
Riley visibly relaxed, and even chuckled a little, pulling Xander into an embrace and introducing him to Sam. As Xander went to set down the box of doughnuts, Anya let her eyes linger on the curve of her fiancé’s ass.
“There was one time where I let Xander be a soldier in the bedroom. And he sprayed his loaded gun on my breasts. But it wasn’t a real gun, it was his…”
“Pretty sure they don’t need to hear about that, Anya,” Xander interrupted hastily, shaking his head. He could always trust his girl to bluntly describe the way her world worked to anyone who had ears.
Anya narrowed her eyes and parted her lips, considering a possible retort, but instead she grabbed the only powdered doughnut in the box to console herself.
When everyone was settled into their respective places, Sam launched into a discussion of the Suvolte demon, with Riley filling in all the minor details about the eggs, and mysterious “doctor,” and the dangers this situation posed. Willow did her best to listen intently while simultaneously rifling through her mental card catalog to see if her photographic memory had ever picked up information on this demon before.
“Any chance you’d do some heavy lifting on the magic front, Willow? I’ve heard you’re the best and we could use the best for this one.” Sam smiled encouragingly, so caught up in her willingness to accomplish the task that the possibility of rejection wasn’t even on her mind.
Willow frowned, upset by the level of enthusiasm in Sam’s voice, and she hated the gut wrenching feeling that filled her stomach. The expectation that she could just whip out a few magic spells at the drop of a hat weighed as heavily on her shoulders as the conditions she had placed on herself to defeat the addiction in the first place. When Buffy and Xander didn’t immediately come to her rescue, she stood up and shot a sour glance in Sam’s direction. “I got addicted. Meaning I don’t do magic anymore. So you’ll just have to find some other witch to do your incantations, because my black hat is staying in the broom closet.”
When she excused herself to go into the kitchen, Riley couldn’t ignore the impulse in him to follow her. There was something in her eyes, in her voice, that reminded him of how far he’d gone down the dark, wicked path to self-destruction. And how hard it had been to pull himself out of it once he’d gotten hooked on the rush. He’d done it though, and he wanted her to know how proud he was that she was finding the strength to do the same.
Before he made it over the threshold, however, his phone beeped twice. It was a signal of urgency, and it was a signal he couldn’t ignore. Glancing back to the living room, he saw that the rest of the cavalry had gotten over Willow’s outburst and were exploring other routes to stopping the Suvolte nest from hatching. Looking forward, he caught sight of Willow hunched over the stovetop, breathing in the smell of the flame, and likely distracting herself with her favorite meal of scrambled eggs on toast.
Without saying a word, he slipped into the bathroom and whipped out his phone. He punched in the combination code and the gruff, stern face of General Huth appeared on the tiny screen.
“Agent Finn. What is your current status?”
“Sunnydale, California. Investigating the status of a subterrestrial’s nest and preventing the eggs from being used in international warfare.”
“Current orders?”
“Take out the Doctor and destroy the eggs.”
“And after?”
“Nepal.”
Riley felt his jaw tighten, wondering why the General would need to ask him this information when it was available on the Special Ops databases.
“Get a refund on that plane ticket, soldier. You have a new mission that’s going to keep you right where you are. We’d like you to keep a keen eye on a young woman in Sunnydale. Get close to her, build her trust, and discover her secrets. If not kept in check, this woman will be a danger to herself and to the world.”
“You want me to babysit, General? Is that really necessary?”
“Are you questioning our authority, Agent Finn?”
Riley shook his head, retracting his defiant attitude. “Not at all, sir. Who is the target?”
“Willow Rosenberg.”
Riley nodded, feeling slightly shell-shocked as he closed his phone. Sam wasn’t going to like this plan at all.
Chapter 2
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Willow/Riley
Word Count: 1680
Overall Rating/Warnings: FRT-13/PG-13 (will be FRAO/NC-17 in later chapters); language, angst, drama, violence, het sex, sexual innuendo.
Setting: AU! Season 6. Parts of this story come from the established canon plot lines and others are my own desire to twist things my way.
Summary: When Riley comes back to Sunnydale, he stays for a reason that’s not Buffy.
Beta: the unmistakable
velvetwhip and angelskuuipo. All other mistakes are mine.A/N: This is my second foray into a guilty pleasure pairing of mine, and I’m looking forward to exploring the possibilities as this story moves along.
All Chapters
The red Sharpie was a sturdy, solid reminder of her progress.
Each ‘x’ she marked on her calendar demonstrated how much she cared about achieving stone-cold sobriety. Each ‘x’ was a symbol of her determination to go back to being old reliable Willow, the Willow that her friends could count on instead of the scary, magic-fried Willow that she’d been. But more than any of that, each ‘x’ echoed Tara’s plea that she give up her addiction. It was meeting that condition that would ensure that they would get back together, and Willow was certain that being with Tara was far more important than levitating a pencil or saving the world from monsters.
It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that Tara was her everything. And the best part was that they were on speaking terms for the first time in weeks, and as she told Dawnie last night, there was no fear of hearing the tone of disconnection if a phone call was made.
Despite their current state of separation, there was no question that Tara still had a firm lock on Willow’s heart. Even if the magic was still embedded deep in her soul, even if the magic was something she’d fallen in love with first.
Willow tapped the end of the marker against the base of the calendar, feeling a surge of disappointment as she calculated the number of white spaces she still had left to fill. Each one of those white spaces represented the potential for getting back together with Tara. Each one represented another phone call, another coffee date, another drink with friends at the Bronze.
Each one meant that things were really getting better all the time, even though most days her fight felt awfully lonely. Her friends had done a little supporting, but she couldn’t ask for more than that. They all had their own lives to worry about, and she just needed to do what her father said when she was eight, and pull herself up by her bootstraps.
“Willow! You home?”
Buffy’s voice rose above her thoughts, and her ears immediately picked up on the extra footsteps. Footsteps that sounded more military than clunky, which meant Xander and Anya weren’t accompanying Buffy tonight. Still, the couple had promised to come over later for some doughnut-crunching and demon-talking so Willow certainly hoped they’d get here soon.
Heading down the stairs, Willow nearly tripped down the bottom three when she spotted a very familiar individual dressed in black spy gear. After all these months, and even though he was out of the Initiative, he remained the embodiment of GI-Joe-meets-Iowa-farm-boy. “Riley?”
Riley pivoted, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips, as Willow wrapped her arms around his neck. She still smelled like Earth, and patchouli, and lavender. And no matter how exotic the scents of the Argentinean rainforest were, he glad to know that some things just didn’t change back at home base.
As the two old friends separated, Riley gestured to the petite brunette standing beside him who looked like she’d walked out of a secret assassin film. “I’d like you to meet Sam. She’s my wife.”
Willow blinked twice, surprised by how difficult it was to respond to his comment. The normal response was probably along the lines of ‘congratulations,’ but her knowledge of Riley’s history in twisted government organizations made her think that maybe the relationship between them was more complicated than that.
Everything she’d ever learned about spies had been enough to make her believe that true professionals kept love separate from work. Sure, Riley had fallen in love with Buffy, but that was different. That was when he was willing to give it all up for her. But any good bookworm could tell you that falling in love had different consequences for people who live out their lives James Bond-style. It made them weak, vulnerable, and susceptible to attacks by bad guys who could take those loved ones hostage at any possible second and torture them in horrible ways.
Speaking of torture…
Buffy looked hard as steel, steadfast in her fight to kick the green monster of jealousy in the ass. Willow couldn’t help how strong Buffy was being considering how things ended with Riley. If Willow was in Buffy’s shoes, she probably would have knocked Sam’s lights out. Or at least, she’d have a pretty detailed fantasy about it so she wouldn’t actually need to hit GI-Jane because the odds of winning that fight weren't high.
So in accordance with the best friend code, she knew it was her duty to hate Sam with a fiery passion regardless of how awesome the woman might be. Furthermore, it was her duty to act as she normally would so that no one, except Buffy, would know. She would be required to behave as sweet Willow, so she offered Riley a broad smile and shook Sam’s hand.
“That’s great, Riley,” she murmured, plopping down on the floral print sofa, knowing that she’d be getting the details of their next Slayer mission soon. “I’m happy for you.”
The sound of a doorknob turning grabbed the attention of both soldiers and their hands dropped to their sides, fingering the leather band on their equipment belts, preparing to attack whatever came through the front door.
“Hey guys,” Xander chirped, stepping through the door with Anya attached to his hip. Barely missing a beat, his gaze locked on Riley and Sam. “Stand down, soldiers. Only weapon we’ve got is a box of jelly doughnuts.” He jiggled the pink box he held and grinned.
Riley visibly relaxed, and even chuckled a little, pulling Xander into an embrace and introducing him to Sam. As Xander went to set down the box of doughnuts, Anya let her eyes linger on the curve of her fiancé’s ass.
“There was one time where I let Xander be a soldier in the bedroom. And he sprayed his loaded gun on my breasts. But it wasn’t a real gun, it was his…”
“Pretty sure they don’t need to hear about that, Anya,” Xander interrupted hastily, shaking his head. He could always trust his girl to bluntly describe the way her world worked to anyone who had ears.
Anya narrowed her eyes and parted her lips, considering a possible retort, but instead she grabbed the only powdered doughnut in the box to console herself.
When everyone was settled into their respective places, Sam launched into a discussion of the Suvolte demon, with Riley filling in all the minor details about the eggs, and mysterious “doctor,” and the dangers this situation posed. Willow did her best to listen intently while simultaneously rifling through her mental card catalog to see if her photographic memory had ever picked up information on this demon before.
“Any chance you’d do some heavy lifting on the magic front, Willow? I’ve heard you’re the best and we could use the best for this one.” Sam smiled encouragingly, so caught up in her willingness to accomplish the task that the possibility of rejection wasn’t even on her mind.
Willow frowned, upset by the level of enthusiasm in Sam’s voice, and she hated the gut wrenching feeling that filled her stomach. The expectation that she could just whip out a few magic spells at the drop of a hat weighed as heavily on her shoulders as the conditions she had placed on herself to defeat the addiction in the first place. When Buffy and Xander didn’t immediately come to her rescue, she stood up and shot a sour glance in Sam’s direction. “I got addicted. Meaning I don’t do magic anymore. So you’ll just have to find some other witch to do your incantations, because my black hat is staying in the broom closet.”
When she excused herself to go into the kitchen, Riley couldn’t ignore the impulse in him to follow her. There was something in her eyes, in her voice, that reminded him of how far he’d gone down the dark, wicked path to self-destruction. And how hard it had been to pull himself out of it once he’d gotten hooked on the rush. He’d done it though, and he wanted her to know how proud he was that she was finding the strength to do the same.
Before he made it over the threshold, however, his phone beeped twice. It was a signal of urgency, and it was a signal he couldn’t ignore. Glancing back to the living room, he saw that the rest of the cavalry had gotten over Willow’s outburst and were exploring other routes to stopping the Suvolte nest from hatching. Looking forward, he caught sight of Willow hunched over the stovetop, breathing in the smell of the flame, and likely distracting herself with her favorite meal of scrambled eggs on toast.
Without saying a word, he slipped into the bathroom and whipped out his phone. He punched in the combination code and the gruff, stern face of General Huth appeared on the tiny screen.
“Agent Finn. What is your current status?”
“Sunnydale, California. Investigating the status of a subterrestrial’s nest and preventing the eggs from being used in international warfare.”
“Current orders?”
“Take out the Doctor and destroy the eggs.”
“And after?”
“Nepal.”
Riley felt his jaw tighten, wondering why the General would need to ask him this information when it was available on the Special Ops databases.
“Get a refund on that plane ticket, soldier. You have a new mission that’s going to keep you right where you are. We’d like you to keep a keen eye on a young woman in Sunnydale. Get close to her, build her trust, and discover her secrets. If not kept in check, this woman will be a danger to herself and to the world.”
“You want me to babysit, General? Is that really necessary?”
“Are you questioning our authority, Agent Finn?”
Riley shook his head, retracting his defiant attitude. “Not at all, sir. Who is the target?”
“Willow Rosenberg.”
Riley nodded, feeling slightly shell-shocked as he closed his phone. Sam wasn’t going to like this plan at all.
Chapter 2
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on 2010-02-03 03:08 pm (UTC)