Author's Notes: Please check that you’ve read Chapers 11 and 12 before reading this chapter.

Just a bit longer, and we’ll be firmly into AU territory for a bit. I know that this chapter runs almost perfectly along with canon, minus a few Glory references. I’m sorry. But if I wanted to send of Riley and give Buffy the necessary character development, this had to happen pretty much the same as it did on the show. This is my least favorite chapter, but then, this was one of my least favorite episodes as well. I will state, for the record, that I don’t like Riley, but I tried very hard to understand where he was coming from, even harder to understand Xander’s perspective, and most of all, I tried to write Buffy’s POV as honestly as I could.

I promise that the next chapter will be less dramatic, and will have more Spike, and more Mr. Gordo (though Mr. G will make an appearance in this chapter as well). Thanks for hanging in there with me for this long.

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all recognizable characters, locations, and dialogue belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the various writers. Show writers and any other quoted authors have been credited in individual chapters. I'm making no money from this—it is purely in the name of fun.

Credits: This chapter contains dialogue from the episode "Into The Woods" written by Marti Noxon.

This chapter is, sadly, unbetaed. All mistakes are mine.

Banner by Phuriedae

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Chapter 13

Burn

By the time I've showered and dressed, I have a plan.

Whatever Riley was doing there... whatever it was about that place... I'm taking it down. I'm the Slayer, and a vamp nest that big in my town? I don't think so.

Riley I'll deal with later.

By the time I get the Magic Box, I'm all Slayer.

"I need to find out everything I can about a vamp nest downtown," I say. Giles looks up, surprised.

"A nest? What sort of—," he's frowning.

"There were people there. It... um... it looked like they were paying vampires to bite them."

Okay, that got his attention. Xander, Willow and Anya all turn to stare at me, too.

"Now I know what to get for the person who has everything," Xander jokes, only I'm really not in the mood to appreciate it. I gave Riley everything I had and he still had to go there?

"Who would pay to get bitten?" Willow asks, echoing my thoughts from last night.

Anya, of course, waves it off like it's nothing. "Oh, that's been going on for centuries. Humans hire vampires to feed of them. They... well, you know, they—they get off on the rush."

The rush? This isn't skydiving!

"And the... hazards of the underworld can become addictive to... some people," Giles adds, and I can tell he's only a second or two from a good polish.

Some people? Some people are not supposed to be my boyfriend.

"Why don't the vampires just kill them?" Xander wants to know.

"Because they get cash, hot and cold running blood, and... they don't leave any corpses behind so they don't get hunted," Anya explains. As if the lack of corpses makes it okay to just feed on people like that. Not in my town. Not on my boyfriend. They're not getting a pass from me on this. They messed with the wrong guy.

"But still," Giles says, seeing the look on my face, "it-it can be terribly dangerous for humans. I mean, people can end up dying accidentally, or... or meeting a vampire who only pretends to play by the house rules."

Or turned, I think, wondering suddenly what would happen if Riley were turned. Would I know? Would my friends? Would we just let him in? My Slayer sense would probably clue me in, but the others... they’d never expect that of Riley. Not of Riley.

Giles knows an awful lot about this.

"You knew about this and you didn't tell me?" I'm furious. My sparring session with Mr. Gordo last night got out most of my need for physical violence, but if Giles knew that that nest was there...

"I hadn't seen it since my Ripper days. I had no idea it was going on in Sunnydale," he swears.

"Well it is," I say. "And I'm gonna stop it."

I head for the weapons trunk.

"Buffy... even if I had known, I might not have told you," he says gently.

"What?" I turn to look at him. "Why?"

"Well, with your mother being so ill until just recently... it wouldn't have been prudent to send you into such a situation with so much on your mind."

"Good thing my mom's all better then. Giles, you said yourself, people could be dying in there."

"Yes, and they're willing victims. They know what the dangers are,” he says, which just pisses me off more. Riley knew. If he was in there, it was because he knew what the dangers were... and he didn’t care. He still would rather be there, letting... he’d still rather be there, risking his life, than with me.

Giles is still talking. “I'm... I'm not saying we shouldn't do something about it, but these nests tend to be quite large and perhaps rushing in emotionally... might not be the best idea."

"What's the rush, Buff?" Xander asks. "If we're going into a nest, maybe we should come up with a strategy. Wait for Riley."

We are so not waiting for Riley. We'll be lucky if he's not already there, curled up in a dark corner with some fangy floozy... and I'm so not thinking about that right now.

"Back me up or not," I tell them. "I'm going."

***

Only when we get there, the place is empty. The fire is still burning in the wood stove, but it's starting to die. They must have cleared out just before sunrise.

Dammit.

I clench my fists, wishing for something, anything, to hit.

"Do you think they'll set up shop again in town?" I ask Giles, since he knows so much.

"It's... hard to say. I'm sure they'll lie low for a bit," he doesn't seem certain.

"But they're around somewhere," I say. "There's got to be a way to find these creeps."

I'm already turning ideas over in my head. I could have Xander drive me around and I could look for places where my Slayer sense goes off the charts again... or... or Willow could maybe do a location spell. Surely one of these guys left something behind we could use to track them. Tracking... crap. I wish Oz were here, we could use his nose... or Spike's... I bet Spike would know how to find them...

"Don't worry, Buffy, you'll find them," Willow says, stepping carefully over a pile of something majorly gross on the floor.

"Yeah," Xander says, full of his usual confidence in me, "I'm sure you'll get them next time, champ."

Next time? Seriously? By next time Riley could be dead or worse. I should have gotten these guys ages ago. Then Riley wouldn't have...

The nearby wood stove makes a great target. I pick it up and hurl it against the wall, watching as the flames immediately spread to the dry wallpaper and fabric, and the alcohol bottles beside them.

They're not going to be coming back here again.

Let it burn.

***

I'm in the backroom, pounding on the punching bag when I hear Riley come in out front, his low voice hatefully familiar as he talks to Anya and Xander. I pound harder on the bag. I hope Mr. Gordo is up for another bout tonight because I'm going to need it, if I can't find that nest on patrol in an hour or two.

Riley shouldn't have come. I'm too mad to talk to him right now and I just know I'm going to say something horrible. Right now I need to hit something—preferably something that I can break.

"We need to talk," he says as he comes in. I keep punching, hoping he'll get the picture. Guess he's not that bright right now, huh. Loss of blood will do that to you.

"I'm not ready to talk to you yet," I tell him, grunting as my fists slam satisfyingly into the bag.

"Too bad," he says, taking off his jacket and approaching. I'm not going to look at his arms. I'm not going to stare at the bite marks on his wrists or try to count how many there are and how old. I'm not. Instead I'm going to pound on this bag until it bursts.

Only he grabs it, and punching it would be too much like punching him, so I have to stop.

"I'm serious," I warn him, and the fire inside of me is cold. "Unless you want to fight."

"So let's fight,” he says. “We need to have this out, Buffy. Right now."

No, we do not need to have this out right now. I'd be perfectly happy if we had this out sometime never. This is not a conversation I want to have. What I want is to rewind to last night when everything was normal and perfect and I didn't know about vampire whorehouses and that my boyfriend has been paying them to kill him.

But he's not budging, because since when has anything I wanted mattered?

"And say what, Riley? 'What were you thinking?’ ‘How long have you been lying to me?' Nothing you say right now is going to make this better."

I turn to put away my hand wraps, but he grabs me by the arm and spins me back toward him. His fingers bite... no... tighten ‘til his knuckles are white. It hurts, but he doesn't seem to notice or care. Well, that's par for the course, isn't it?

"I realize that," he says. "I don't expect... I just need you to hear me out." Only he doesn’t sound like he’s going to apologize. He sounds like he’s angry.

Wait, he's angry? At me?

"Fine," I tell him, feeling my anger freeze into something hard and sharp in my chest. "Get your hand off me."

He lets go, his fingerprints standing out on my arm, white against my tan.

"I think... when this thing started, it was just some stupid immature game. I wanted to even the score after you let Dracula bite you," he says, running a hand through his hair.

Excuse me?

"I did not let Dracula—," I start to say, but he charges right ahead, not even listening. Which, clearly, he hasn't been doing for months if he thinks that I let Dracula bite me. It's called a thrall, moron, and I'm just as susceptible to it as any other human if I'm not on guard.

"I know," he says, though, clearly, he doesn't. "On some level I know that. But I was still spun. I don't know. I... I wanted to know what you felt. I wanted to know why Dracula and Angel have so much power over you."

Who with the what huh?

He’s sneaking off in the middle of the night to get his... fix at the end of a pair of fangs and he thinks I’m the one with a vampire obsession? Is he completely deranged?

"You so don't get it," I tell him.

"I wanted to get it, Buffy. I wanted to get you," he says, frowning like he’s trying to puzzle me out.

"So this is my fault?" I cannot believe this. "Hey, gee, Buffy's so mysterious, I think I'll go out and almost die? I think I'll go and let some other w—" I can't finish that sentence. It hurts too badly.

"It isn't your fault. It's mine. I feel like hell for what I've put you through," he says. Yeah. I'm sure he does. He probably just feels bad that he got caught. "It's just... these girls..."

"Vampires," I remind him, angry that I have to. "Killers."

"They made me feel something, Buffy. Something I didn't even know I was missing until—"

Make him stop. Please. Just...

"I can't. I can't hear this," I say. I can't stand here and listen to him tell me how much better a vampire girl is than me. I can't.

He grabs me again. "You need to hear this."

I wrench away, not caring if I hurt him. Nobody lays a hand on me like that. Nobody.

"Fine! Fine! Tell me about your whores! Tell me what on earth they were giving you that I can't," I snarl.

"They needed me," he says, as if that's the answer to everything.

"They needed your money. It wasn't about you."

"No," he says, stepping toward me. "On some basic level it was about me. My blood. My body. When they bit me it ... was beyond passion. They wanted to devour me, all of me."

I don't... what is he telling me? I've been so angry, but this... that cold, hard thing in me is my heart, and it’s finally breaking. "Why are you telling me this?"

"It wasn't real," he says, but I can tell he doesn't mean that. "I know, it was just physical. But the fact that I craved it... that... that I kept going back... even if it was fleeting, they made me feel like they had such... hunger for me."

"And I don't... make you feel that way?" He can't meet my eyes. "How on earth can you compare me to that? How can you tell me that you understand what those vampires are feeling? You aren't a passion to them... you're a snack! A willing, idiotic snack!"

"No, I know exactly what they feel when they bite me, because I feel it every time we're together. It's like the whole world falls away and all there is is you," he says. His eyes are sad and angry.

He thinks... god, he thinks...

"You think I don't feel the same way about you? How dare you tell me what I feel?"

"You keep me at a distance, Buffy," he says. "You didn't even call me when your mom went in the hospital."

He's seriously pissed off at me for putting my mother ahead of him? For... what? Not wanting to go out with him, or have sex because my mom needed me more?

"Oh, I'm sorry," I say, with as much sarcasm as I can muster. "You know, um, I'm sorry that I couldn't take care of you when I thought that my mother was dying."

"It's about me taking care of you! It's about letting me in. So you don't have to be on top of everything all the time."

"But I do," I tell him. God, he doesn't get it, does he? I would love to be able to drop the ball. Love to be able to just lean on him all the time, let him take care of everything. I was scared to death about my mom, but if I just ran off and let him do everything for me, it wouldn't have helped. What I needed was for him to be there for me, but not try to fix everything. For him to let me stand on my own feet. I can't be any other way. It's how I'm built. I have to carry the world on my shoulders. I've done it since I was fifteen. If I let myself lean on him too much I won't have the strength to keep doing it on my own. There’s no one else strong enough to carry this burden with me. Certainly not him.

"That's part of what being a Slayer is," I tell him. But I know that's not the real problem. I think of him back there in the caves, standing before me, his knuckles bloody. Joe Normal... it's not what you need. What Riley wants is for me to be weak around him, for me to need him, so he can feel... "And that's what this is really about, isn't it? You can't handle the fact that I'm stronger than you."

"It's hard sometimes, yeah," he admits. "But that's not it."

"Then what? What else do you want from me, Riley? I've given you everything that I have. I've given you my heart, my body and soul!"

"You say that, but I don't feel it. I just don't feel it," he says.

"Well whose fault is that? Because I'm telling you, this is me. This is it. This is the package. And if it's so deficient that you need to go get your kicks elsewhere... then we really have a problem."

He doesn't say anything. That's all the answer I need.

I'm not enough for him. Clearly, if I don't need him to take care of me, to provide for me... then it means nothing to him. It's not passionate enough, or something. He'd rather be sucked dry by a vampire than loved by me...

"They want me back, Buffy... the military," he says, surprising me. What? "It's deep undercover, no contact with civilians. They came here to get me. Transport's leaving tonight."

"Tonight?" I say, shocked. "When were you gonna tell me about this?" I have this sudden image of him just vanishing in the night. If I hadn't found out his little secret.... would he have just...gone?

"I'm telling you now," he says, like that makes it better.

"Are you going?" I ask.

"I don't know. If we can't work this out..."

What? In the next ten minutes? I'm supposed to just... forgive him for what he did? Apologize for not being enough for him? Promise to make it better next time?

"Then what? This is goodbye?" I thought I was mad before. I was wrong. This is mad. "You are unbelievable. You're giving me an ultimatum?"

"No, I'm not."

"Yes you are! You expect me to get over it now or you're gone!"

"I don't, Buffy. That's not what I meant," he says. But it's what he said.

"I've heard enough. I will not take the blame for this." How did we go from him sneaking out in the middle of the night to get suck jobs from vampire whores to this being my fault because I didn't need him enough and him leaving?

"I'm not asking you to," he says, but he grabs my arm again as I try to leave. Oh, that's IT. Absolutely IT.

"Let go of me," I say, breaking away.

"Or what, you'll hit me?" He spreads his arms, waiting. "Go ahead. Come on, do it."

Hit me. Come on. One good swing. You know you want to. Give it me good, Buffy. Do it!

But Riley isn't Spike. And unlike Spike, I don't want to hit Riley. I could punch Spike through a wall without doing much damage to him. If I hit Riley right now, it would kill him. I don't want to punch him. The last thing I want to do right now is touch him. I don’t even want to look at him. I just want him to go away.

"Get out of my way," I tell him.

"I'm serious, Buffy," he says. "Hit me. Hit me!"

Suddenly I'm tired. Very, very tired. And cold. I grab my jacket off the hook and head for the door. I want to go home.

I want to go to sleep.

"I'm leaving, Buffy," he says, and my heart breaks a little more. They always do, don't they? Leave? "Unless you give me a reason to stay... I'm leaving tonight."

Yeah, so much for no ultimatums.

There's nothing I can say. Not right now, which I guess means not ever.

I leave. I don't look back. See? Now I'm just like them.

***

I take the long route home, detouring through the alleys on the bad side of town. I still have a job to do, after all.

There is so much wrongness in what Riley was saying that I'm having a hard time finding anything right. It's like... it's like someone took my sweet, normal, caring boyfriend and replaced him with this... jerk. Only a real asshole would believe some of the things he spewed at me were true. Only a jerk would insist that a skanky vampire whore was better than me.

I'm beginning to sense a pattern in my relationships.

What I really need to do is find a jerk and spend some time with him and maybe he'll turn into a prince.

Right. Like that would happen.

When I feel the tingles, there's no panic, even though I know there are more than one. My time in the dream room has honed my Slayer senses to a sharp point. My anger gives it edge.

One by the dumpster, two in the mouth of that alley, another ahead, two more behind, several more further back. There are varying levels to the tingles, I realize. None of them read as strongly as Spike, most of them are even below Mr. Gordo, but one or two are stronger than Harmony. Age. Huh. I can tell how old or powerful a vamp is by the tingles. Neat.

"The pyro act was a bad idea, Slayer," says the lead vamp, stepping out to meet me. I'm getting the strongest reading from him.

I feel the others start to move into position around me.

"Felt pretty good to me," I tell him, scanning the alley for potential weapons. I don't even have a stake on me. Somehow, I'm not worried.

"I'm not running," he says. "And you're not shutting me down. In fact, I don't think you're going to make it through the night."

Detached, my Slayer brain counts vampires. Ten of them, the youngest is barely more than a freshly risen fledgling. This isn't a dream, this isn't Mr. Gordo, and I'm not in the mood to play with these guys.

"Walk away," I warn him. "I'm serious. Don't do this. Not now."

He's not very bright. When they rush me, I don't even think, just move. I hit two before another one helpfully provides me with a weapon, a long wooden stick. When will vamps learn not to bring pointy wooden weapons into a battle? I dust all but the leader and the fledge without them ever laying a hand on me. The leader jumps at me, and I duck, jabbing the skewer up into his heart as he passes. It's over in about eight seconds.

The fledge is cowering by the dumpster. When I turn to stare at her, she's shaking, scared as hell.

She should be.

When I see her face, I remember. I remember watching her drink from Riley's wrist.

I lower the staff. Surprised, she only hesitates for a second before making a run for it.

I could let her go.

But she'll only find someone else to drink from. Some other guy who might have a girlfriend or a wife or a family, waiting for him at home while he's risking his life beneath her fangs.

It takes a single throw, and she's nothing more than dust on the breeze.

"So, how'd that work out for ya?"

He's lucky I know his voice so well.

"Make you feel better?" Xander says, coming out of the shadows.

"What are you doing here?"

"I thought you might need to talk. Then I saw the skirmish happen. I was gonna lend a hand, but I noticed you grew a few extra ones," he's trying to joke, but I can see that I startled him.

"Go home, Xander."

"Buffy."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. Something's up. You're acting like a crazy person."

Oh really? Because, what? I find out my boyfriend is cheating on me, trying to get himself killed and I'm supposed to not be mad about it? Not be hurt by the things he said? What am I supposed to do? Is there some kind of scripted way a person is supposed to behave in this situation? God, I wish someone would just tell me, because I'm pulling up a big fat load of nothing here.

I’m so tired of hurting, and Xander isn’t helping.

There's a building nearby, some kind of warehouse, and they've left the door open a bit. Probably where some of those vamps came from. Inside, I wrap my fingers around a chain link fency thing and wait. It's not long before Xander follows me.

"Take this, for instance. You don't wanna deal, so you hide? It's not very Slayer-like," he accuses.

Right. I'm the Slayer. I'm above this, I guess. Good thing I've got someone to remind me. Being the Slayer means I don't get to be Buffy for Riley. And being Buffy means I don't measure up to the Slayer. When is just me going to be enough?

"Just leave me alone, Xander. You have no idea what's going on."

"No? Good, so you and Riley aren't imploding?" Okay so maybe he's got some idea. "It doesn't take a genius. What I can't figure out it how you never saw it coming."

That gets my attention.

"What? Who told you?" I ask, frowning.

"Nobody told me anything, Buffy. It was right in front of my Xander face. The guy would do anything for you!" he says angrily.

"The guy got himself bit by a vampire!" I say. Xander looks surprised. Well, he should. "He lied to me. He ran around behind my back and almost got himself killed! And now he tells me that he's leaving for some covert military operation at midnight unless I convince him not to. Now tell me that you understand. Because I sure as hell don't."

"You gonna let him go?" Xander asks.

"It's not my decision to make," I tell him. It's not.

"Of course it is," he tells me.

Okay, well, I don't see it. "It's not fair," I tell him. It's not. It's not right to lay this on me, to hurt me and then force me to decide.

"Who cares if it's fair? In about twenty minutes, Riley's gonna disappear, maybe forever, unless you do something to stop him," he says.

"What am I supposed to do? Beg him to stay?" I'm not. I won't.

"Why wouldn't you?" he says, clearly surprised I'm not doing just that. "To keep Riley here..."

"I don't know who he is any more. I mean, I thought he was...," I don't know what to say. "Dependable."

"Dependable? What is he, State Farm?" Xander says.

"You know what I mean," I tell him, not appreciating the sarcasm right now.

"Yeah, I think you mean convenient," he says coldly. "I think you took it for granted that he was gonna show up when you wanted him to, and take off when you didn't."

I didn't.

Did I?

"Look who's talking," I remind him. "Look who has Anya following him around like a lovesick puppy."

That pisses him off. "Oh boy, is this not about me."

"Is she more than a convenience? 'Cause that would kinda be a surprise." I'm so angry right now, I don't care if I hurt him. How dare he suggest that that's how I treated Riley. I didn't. I just...

"If you don't want to hear what I have to say, I'll shut up right now," he says.

"Good, cause I don't," I say, ready to leave. He steps in front of me.

"I lied. See, what I think... you got burned by Angel, then Riley shows up..."

"I know the story, Xander.”

"But you miss the point," he tells me, his brown eyes serious. "You shut down, Buffy. And you've been treating Riley like the rebound guy. When he's the one that comes along once in a lifetime. He's never held back with you. He's risked everything. And you're about to let him fly because you don't like ultimatums? If he's not the guy, if what he needs from you just isn't there, let him go. Break his heart, and make it a clean break. But if you really think you can love this guy ... I'm talking scary, messy, no-emotions-barred need ... if you're ready for that ... then think about what you're about to lose."

Oh, god.

Is it true? Did I really hold back?

Then I know I did. I held back because I was stronger, because I was afraid of breaking him. Not just with sparring. I was afraid if I let him share my life... if I let him shoulder even part of the burden of it, he'd break under the stress. Or, worse, that I'd really love him, and he'd end up dead because of me. Because of what I am. I held back...

What if... what if I didn't? What if I let him in?

What if, instead of just trying to be some normal couple I...

I could at least try, couldn't I?

And maybe it would be enough.

"Xander..." I say, not knowing how to tell him what I just realized. But he's there before me.

"Run," he says.

And I do.

***

My heart is pounding in my chest, and I'm using every bit of Slayer speed at my disposal. I tear down the streets and sidewalks, heading for the airport, wishing I could be just a little bit faster.

I'll find Riley. I'll stop him.

I'll... we'll work through this. I'll be less withdrawn, I won't hold back any more. He'll stop sneaking around behind my back. It can work. It can.

It has to, because I don't know what I'll do if it doesn't.

It has to.

I cut through the woods, heading for where I know the helicopter-landing pad is. I scale the fence easily and am running again before I hit the ground. Up ahead, the helicopter is lifting off.

No...

"Riley!" I scream, running out onto the pad. I can see him, sitting there, his head turned away. "RILEY!"

But he doesn't turn around.

"Riley!"

He doesn't look back.

And then he's gone.

***

I wake up in the dream room, once more fully dressed and sitting on the floor beside the bed.

I sit there for a long time, it seems, before Mr. Gordo arrives.

"He left me," I say, into the darkness.

Mr. Gordo is very still for a while, then he comes around the bed. He sits down a few feet away, and I hear the bed creak a little as he leans back against it.

"Has.. has anyone ever paid you to bite them... to... feed on them?" I ask softly. "Without, you know, killing them?"

Silence for a moment, and then I remember. "I mean, I know you're just... you know, a figment of my imagination, but in figmenty vampire land... have you ever been... a vampire prostitute? Or... gigolo? Or whatever the word is for vampires who get paid to eat—," I'm babbling and I know it, but it's babble or cry so I'm going with babble.

He taps on the floor, loudly enough to get my attention. No.

"Oh, okay," I say, staring blankly at... well, nothing. I might as well have my eyes closed.

"Last night," I say, after awhile, "last night... I.. uh... Spike took me to this place. This vampire nest. And... my b-boyfriend was there. He was paying to, you know, be bitten. And at first I was really hurt. And mad. I mean, he snuck out of bed in the middle of the night to... to go be with some... some vampire—"

I look in his direction, suddenly horrified. "Oh, god," I say. "Is that what these dreams are about? That I... Riley, he said... he said it was my fault, because I—"

Mr. Gordo growls.

It's a decidedly non-friendly sound, but I sense somehow it's not directed at me.

"You're growling? Why? Because he said it was my fault?"

Yes.

"Oh," I'm not sure what to do with that. Xander gave me that long lecture on how it is my fault, but Mr. Gordo's on my side?

Then again, he is my imaginary vampire, so I guess it's normal for him to take my side.

"Whatever... the thing is, he said that... that I held back. That I was shutting him out. And—and that I have this thing about vampires. So, is that what these dreams are? My subconscious trying to tell me that I do have a thing for vampires? Not that I have a thing, you know, for you. Cause I can't even see you and you don't talk and...and aren't real and..."

No.

Oh. Okay...

I look down at where my hands are... or where they should be, wrapped around my knees. Not that I can see them in the dark. "The thing is... I held back. A lot. And I didn't even realize I was doing it. Everyone else saw it but me. There I was just... tra-la-la, oblivious Buffy, worrying about my mom and being the Slayer and not realizing that my boyfriend was unhappy. Not that he ever said anything," and there's the anger again.

"Why didn't he say anything? Why just... go on pretending it's all okay and not say 'gee, Buffy, I'm feeling a little taken for granted and maybe we could spend some time together' or... you know, something? Anything. All I needed was just a little sign. A tiny one. Like one of those little strips of paper in a fortune cookie. 'Your lucky numbers are seven, three, and zero, and by the way, your boyfriend is going to go pay vampires to bite him if you don't figure out how to need him...'"

I'm crying by now, but I don't care.

"And... and he said th-that those vampire girls were... were more passionate than me. That they... that they wanted him more than I did and... and then he said that...that if I couldn't get over it and promise to ... that he was going to leave, for some military thing and that would be it. So... I was mad and I couldn't say it, not then, and then... he left."

A cool hand touches my shoulder and then I'm throwing myself into his arms, sobbing hard now. It doesn't matter that he's a vampire, or not real. All that matters is that he's here, and listening, and he seems to care and sort of understand and... he's here.

"He left me," I sob against his chest while he strokes my back. "I ran... I ran all the way to the airport, but... I was too late. And he left. He left me. God... what is so wrong with me? Why is it so hard for men to love me? Why do they always leave?"

He doesn't answer, of course, but his hands tighten on me ever so slightly and it feels good.

Tiredly I lay my head against his shoulder. "I'm just as bad as he is, aren't I?" I murmur. "Turning to a vampire for what I need... instead of him?"

No, he taps against my shoulder. Then, again: No.

Sleepy now, I feel my eyelids drifting shut, and when my next thought comes I'm not sure if I whisper it, or if it's just in my head. "I'm glad you're not real, Mr. Gordo. If you were real... I'd probably have to hate you... or kill you... and, I don't want to. Don't be real. Or... if you are, please don't ever do anything that would make me have to kill you. Please."

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Author's Postscript: I've spoiled you, horribly, by updating several chapters at once. But now that this is caught up with the rest, it'll slow down a little. My usual update schedule is every two to three days (depending on my editor).