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Spike hated the sad look that was on Buffy's face now. She'd barely left his house in three days, the two of them feeling as if they'd slipped out of the world all together, building one of their own. The guilt from her eyes had faded away, and Spike had finally seen what Buffy looked like happy. She was beautiful.

But now the pain and the shame were back. Riley would be home in just a few hours, and Buffy needed to go back home and be ready for him. It would blow whatever it was she and Spike had if Riley came home to find Buffy in bed with the neighbor.

Part of Spike wished she'd tell him that she wasn't going home at all. That she'd forget all about Riley and stay with him instead. But he knew he couldn't ask that of her. It was obvious she still felt something for her husband, despite the decline of their marriage. He pushed her hair away from her face, wanting to commit her features to memory in case she decided not to come back to him again.

Buffy looked down, and Spike tried to imagine what she was thinking, what exactly put that pain in her eyes. He figured she was thinking about Riley, and how difficult it would be to face him with the guilt of how she'd spent their time apart.

"I don't know how I'm going to sleep at night," Buffy said, her voice quiet enough to almost be a whisper.

"Feeling bad about we did?" Spike asked, his chest tightening.

Buffy shook her head. "I meant without you next to me. You…you hold me. How am I going to sleep without you holding me?" Buffy started to cry.

Spike was completely taken aback. He hugged her tightly. "I wish I could hold you tonight, too, Buffy."

"Why isn't this my life, Spike? Why can't I have this?"

Spike didn't know what to tell her. That she could? That all she had to do was throw away her marriage, her home? "I don't know," he said softly.

Buffy clung to him tightly. After a moment, she pulled away, regaining her composure. "We should stay away from each other while Riley's home," she said, her tone now all business. "But he'll be gone Thursday morning. Can I come over that afternoon?"

"Of course," Spike replied.

Buffy beamed. "Good. I'll see you Thursday."

Spike nodded. "See you then."

Buffy gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before walking out the door. She was gone for only a moment before she burst back through the door, throwing her arms around him again. She kissed him deeply, leaving Spike breathless when she finally pulled away again. She gave him one last, longing look before running out the door.

*** *** ***

Clem could tell immediately something was off with Spike. The bleach blond was fidgety and nervous, constantly losing his concentration. "Spike, buddy, are you even with me?"

"Sure," Spike said. He pointed at the T.V. "David Hasslehoff's got a talking car. Bloody brilliant television that. Why?"

"I dunno, you just seem some place else," Clem replied. "You've barely touched your chicken wings. That's not like you, Spike."

"I'm fine."

"It's not nice to keep things from your best friend."

"Clem, we're men. We're supposed to grunt and drink beer, not spill our deepest darkest secrets."

Clem shrugged. "Suit yourself. But I've found I feel much better if I talk things out."

Spike sighed. "I slept with Buffy."

"Buffy…married Buffy?"

"Do you think I'd honestly know two women named Buffy? What are the odds?"

"This is Southern California."

Spike snorted. "Tell me about it. Sometimes I long for the rain of fog of London. All this sunshine is bad for my pasty complexion."

Clem laughed a little before sobering again. "You changed the subject. What happened with Buffy? Did she split with her husband?"

"No. She's there with him right now. Just had the privilege of seeing them eating a nice little dinner together when I went into the kitchen to get another beer," Spike said bitterly. "Makes me want to heave."

Clem frowned. "What about not having sex with a married woman? Spike, buddy, no matter what you feel for this woman, it's wrong."

"Don't you think I bloody well know that!" Clem flinched, and Spike sighed, calming down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. It's just, well, I don't know how this got to be such a mess." Spike ran his hands through his hair. "When she first moved in, I didn't even notice her. Things were just finalized with Drusilla, and the last thing I wanted to think about were neighbors who were the very picture of wedded, suburban bliss. But then one morning, about six months ago, I was sitting on the porch after a, um, rather late night. Buffy came out in this tiny little robe, the early morning sunlight bouncing off her hair and tan skin, and I swear, she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. I thought maybe it was something to do with the fact I'd been drinking for almost twenty-four hours straight, so I came out one morning just to get a look at her sober. And bloody hell, Clem, she was even more beautiful then. Like a sodding angel.

"After that, I came outside every morning I could, just to look at her. Never exchanged more than a few pleasantries with her, never dreamed I'd ever get to touch her. But then it happened. Somehow, we were eating Chinese food on my floor, drinking beer on my back porch, talking about our lives. I just felt such a connection with her, like having Buffy around was the most natural thing in the world."

"So you decided to make that connection physical?" Clem asked.

Spike shook his head. "No, mate. That isn't how it happened. See, she just came over here one day like she'd been doing, and jumped me. Had sex with her right there on the floor." Clem raised his feet a little, but Spike didn't seem to notice. "She ran off after that. Told me later she'd thought her husband was cheating on her, and she was using me. Then apparently, she found out he wasn't. Don't know the details to that."

"Ouch," Clem said with a wince. "So she avoiding you now?"

Spike shook her head. "Almost wish she was. That might be easier. No, she came back, said she knew she shouldn't, but she wanted me anyway. We spent these three really great days together. It got a little rocky at one point, what with the guilt an all, but then everything was perfect."

"Until she had to go home?"

Spike sighed. "Until she had to go home. She's supposed to come back Thursday. Unless she comes to her senses and realizes that the last thing she wants is to have an affair—especially with a guy like me."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short," Clem said. "You have a lot of very positive attributes. I'm sure you could find a nice single girl. Maybe if you gave up on smoking. Women these days hate that. Or so I hear…"

Spike shook his head. "It's not that simple, Clem. Buffy, she's unlike any woman I've ever met. She seems so small and delicate, like she'd break as easy as Dru. But she isn't. I've never met anyone with a fire like hers. And the things she does to me…the way she makes it hurt in all the wrong places. I've never been with such an animal."

Clem held up his hands. "Wow. TMI there, buddy. Too much information… But seriously, great sex can be a wonderful thing, but is it worth ruining your life over, ruining Buffy's life over?"

"It's not just the sex, Clem. Don't you get it? I'm in love with her!" Spike's eyes widened a little bit as he realized what he'd just said—and how true it was.

"You're in love with her?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Spike, man, this isn't good. I mean, I sure this Buffy is a real pretty lady, but, well, she's not really available. And what about how you felt when Dru was cheating on you? Do you really want to do that to some other guy?"

"Riley doesn't love Buffy half as much as I loved Drusilla," Spike replied, his jaw clenched. "Dammit, Clem, he barely even seems to realize she exists. He's gone all the time, leaving her alone and miserable."

"And you're conveniently there to fill up her free time?"

"No, it isn't like that! Buffy, she cares about me, too."

"Spike, I don't know anything about this specific relationship, but I've seen how these things can go. Lonely housewife finds a guy to play with when the man of the house is out. It might start out fun, but in the end, all there is is heartache, my friend."

"Buffy isn't like that. I'm not a game to her—I mean something."

"Didn't you say earlier that she told you she was using you?"

"Just the first time. She wasn't after that."

"Are you sure?"

Spike frowned. In all honesty, he wasn't. But he couldn't let himself believe that he meant that little to Buffy. The way she'd look at him, the way she'd cried when she'd left because she couldn't sleep in his arms that night—that had to be real. "I love her, Clem."

"Yeah, I get that, but…"

"No buts. Look, I know this isn't the ideal situation, but I can't just walk away from this. It's like there's a part of me that Drusilla made dead inside, and Buffy wakes it up again."

"I...I just don't want to see you hurt."

"I know. That's the last thing I want, too, but I can't turn my back on this woman. Now come on, let's get back to the telly, huh? I'm not sure I can take much more of this angst crap right now."

"Yeah…" Clem said, frowning. He smiled again, mainly for Spike's sake. "Let's see what wacky adventures Michael Knight and his four-wheeled pal K.I.T.T. get into."

*** *** ***

"You know, you really should lock your door. Who knows what kind of bad things could creep in here and take you by surprise."

Spike jumped, turning in his chair to see Buffy in the doorway of his study. "Bloody hell, woman, you scared me half to death!" Spike cocked his head when he noticed what she was wearing—or more what she wasn't wearing. "Nice, um, little trench coat you have there, pet."

Buffy gave him a wicked smile. "I didn't think I needed to bother with clothes. Never seem to keep them on around you anyway."

"I thought you weren't coming back by until Thursday," Spike said, surprised he could talk with how dry his mouth had suddenly become.

Buffy walked slowly to him, kneeling down before his chair. "Riley went to play golf. He won't be back for hours. I was bored." Buffy reached out to unzip him, but Spike stopped her.

"Is that all I am to you? Something to alleviate your boredom?"

"No! How could you ask me that?"

Spike ran his hand through his hair. "Buffy, I just…I just don't know what this means to you."

Buffy jumped up. "So what, you assume that it means nothing?"

"No! It's just that, dammit…" What Clem had suggested the day before kept replaying in Spike's mind. "You're a married woman, Buffy. For all I know I'm just a diversion."

"Is that what you think?" Buffy asked angrily. "That I'm just bored with my marriage and trying to get my kicks elsewhere? Maybe you figure I'm going to start fucking the whole block, move right down the street from house to house. Mr. Reynolds, the eighty-six year old widower, lives next to you, doesn't he? Tell me, does he have a history of heart trouble?"

"That isn't what I meant! I just… I know I'm more of a diversion to you, Buffy," Spike said, not sure if he believed himself.

"You are," Buffy said, walking back over to him. "You make me feel, Spike."

"You do the same for me, pet."

Buffy sat in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and laying against his shoulder. "It's been so long since I've just done what I wanted to do," Buffy said softly as Spike's arms went around her. Ever since I lost my mom, I've had to do everything for someone else—for Dawn, for Riley. I had to give up going to school, give up any dreams of my own. Anything I wanted I had to put on hold, had to give up to make someone else's dreams come true. And being with you, well, maybe it's selfish, but it's something I'm doing for me." Buffy let out a deep breath. "It's what I want, what makes me happy. Sometimes I hate myself for it, but I need to be selfish just this once. I was wasting away, Spike. I felt nothing. Every day, it was like living in a fog, like I wasn't even here. Sometimes I felt like I wasn't even really living my life. Like I was going through the motions, but nothing meant anything. Nothing was real. But you, you changed that. This thing we have, it's raw and heavy, and I can feel everything. The pleasure, the pain, I feel it."

Spike was silent for a moment, taking in what she'd said. Whether she meant to or not, Spike knew now Buffy was still using him. It may not be only for a bit of fun when her husband was away, but it was still for something. But he didn't care. He could give her this. In such a short time, she'd come to mean so much to him, and he'd give her this even if it hurt him in the end. He pressed his lips against her temple, breathing in the scent of her hair. "I feel it too, pet," he said softly.

Buffy looked up at him. Their eyes met, and Buffy felt an almost physical jolt. "If eyes are the window to the soul, then William's is beautiful," she thought suddenly. Buffy shook the thought from her mind. She couldn't do this, couldn't let herself fall for this man. She was Riley's wife—till death do us part. Riley could give her the stability she needed to survive. But this eccentric writer, with his penchant for peroxide, punk music, and black leather coats, could give her what she needed to live. She kissed Spike, reveling in the flavor of tobacco and liquor that she would never taste on Riley's lips. She pulled away, giving Spike a tempting smile. "Am I distracting you from your work?" she asked, nodding towards the computer screen. "Because I could go…" She started to get up.

Spike grabbed her hips, pushing her against him. "It's a welcome distraction," he said hotly.

"So I should continue then?"

"Distract away."

Buffy turned so she was straddling him. She unbuttoned the trench coat and shrugged it off her shoulders, showing Spike that she was as naked under there as he'd suspected. Buffy reached for his fly, her hand resting on the button. "You have something in there for me?" she asked, looking up at him wide eyed. "It feels big."

Spike looked down at her, his eyes dark and smoldering. "It is big for you, kitten. Big and hard."

Buffy felt a thrill go through her. She loved the way Spike talked to her, the way he looked at her like he wanted to consume her. It had been so long since she'd felt passion like that, trading heat for the comfortable, safe love she shared with Riley. But this, this she missed. She opened Spike's jeans, then scoot back, giving herself enough room to lean down and take him in her mouth. Spike groaned, grabbing on to the arms of the chair.

Buffy held on tightly to Spike's thighs to keep herself from falling backwards, hollowing out her cheeks as she slid up and down as fast as she could. Spike thrust into her mouth slightly, begging for more, less, he wasn't sure. Buffy took in every sensation, loving giving this to him. She pulled up, and Spike smiled down at her, stroking her hair. That was another thing she loved about sex with him. It was never about demanding, about what he could get out of her. He'd never tried to push her down there when she didn't want to go, never tried to make her continue when she was ready to stop, and somehow she knew he never would.

"You're so good at that, pet," Spike said, cupping her cheek. "Such a gift to feel that pretty little mouth on me. Thank you." Suddenly, Buffy's eyes filled with tears. Spike looked at her, concern apparent in his features. "Buffy, did I say something wrong?"

"No," Buffy said, sniffing a little. "You said something right."

Spike wiped a tear off her cheek. "I don't get it."

"With Riley, that's like a war. He's always pushing my head down, just expecting me to do it whenever he wants. I hate doing it for him. It's like a damn chore. But you, you thank me."

"It's not like a chore with me, is it, Buffy?" Spike asked. "Because if it is, then you don't have to do it anymore, pet. I won't be offended." He winked at her. "And I won't quit doing it for you, either."

"No, it's not a chore with you. And that's why. You make me feel like it's something for both of us, something we share."

"Everything's something we share. I wouldn't want it if you didn't."

Buffy started crying again. "You deserve something better than this thing with me, Spike."

"I don't want anything else. I want you, pet." Spike lifted her slightly, positioning her over his erection and then letting her slide down. Buffy stayed still for a moment, just looking into his eyes. Then she began to move, rocking back and forth, sending tiny shocks of pleasure throughout his body.

Buffy began to move faster, still not breaking eye contact with Spike. He linked his hands behind the small of her back, giving her more support. Buffy's hands roamed from his chest up to his hair and back again, her fingers making Spike feel as if they were leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Still, she held his gaze, and Spike couldn't remember ever feeling anything so intense. The world seemed to telescope in on them until all that was left was this one space in time, this one place. Buffy and her deep green eyes that seemed to be looking right through to his core were his whole world.

Buffy's movements got more frantic, and Spike knew she was close. He began to raise his hips a little, pushing further into her, knowing he wasn't far from the edge himself. Then, he was there, and he realized so was Buffy. She never let her eyes stop being locked with his, and Spike felt himself going with her to a place he wasn't sure he'd ever been before.

Buffy collapsed against his chest, trembling. Spike placed shaky kisses in her hair, holding her as tightly as he could. "How long until you have to be home?" Spike asked.

"Not until late," Buffy said. "Riley's gone all day when he plays golf. He says he goes out for drinks with the guys afterwards. Spike reached down and refastened his pants, then stood with Buffy cradled in his arms. "Where are we going?" Buffy asked.

"Bedroom."

"I know I've said it before, but I really mean it this time—I'm too worn out from that last time to go again."

"I know. Me, too. I just want to hold you."

Buffy smiled, pressing her head against his chest as he walked with her down the hall. "Mmm. Holding is good." Spike laid her gently on the bed before undressing and joining her. He pulled the sheet over the two of them as Buffy cuddled up next to him, using his chest for her pillow. "I've missed this so much," Buffy said, closing her eyes.

"Me, too," Spike agreed, kissing her hair. Spike held Buffy as she drifted off, waiting until he knew she was asleep. "I love you, Buffy Anne Summers," he said softly before closing his own eyes.

*** *** ***

When Spike woke a few hours later, Buffy's side of the bed was already cold. If it wasn't for the scent of her perfume still lingering on the sheets, he'd wonder if it had been real or a dream. He knew she'd had to leave in order to keep her husband from catching her gone, but it still hurt to wake up alone after sharing a moment that made him feel so close to her. He got out of bed and pulled on his jeans, walking into the kitchen to look out the window. Their curtains were closed so he couldn't see outside the house, but he could see Riley's car in the driveway.

The thought of Riley in there with Buffy made Spike angry. Riley didn't deserve Buffy. She was a wonderful woman, with such passion inside of her, and Riley didn't even know how to bring it out. He thought about the conversation he'd had with her earlier about Riley trying to push her into things she wasn't in the mood for and felt filled with rage. That git who treated her like that got to be her husband, while Spike who'd do anything to make her happy got only a cold, empty bed.

Spike picked a glass up from beside the sink and threw it at the wall, enjoying just that small act of destruction. He'd had a reputation once for being the kind you didn't mess with, and although the years had tamed him, the fighter inside him still rebelled at being forced to be kept subdued. He wanted to kill Riley, to tear the man limb from limb, and then take Buffy to a place where nothing could ever hurt her again. But he couldn't. He had to settle for being the second man in her life, the one she only loved in the shadows.

Spike went to clean up the mess he'd made, not even caring when he sliced his finger on a shard of broken glass. The physical pain was a welcome distraction from the emotional kind. He knew Buffy would never truly be his, and the thought ate him up inside. Despite her obvious misery in her marriage, Buffy didn't want to leave it. She'd told Spike that Riley was her husband, and she wasn't prepared to walk away completely from that commitment.

"If only Dru had been that loyal," Spike muttered to himself, bringing the bits of broken glass to the trashcan. He froze, a realization coming to him. He didn't want Drusilla anymore. As much as an emotional roller coaster his relationship with Buffy was turning out to be, he wouldn't trade it for anything, even his ex-wife. Drusilla had been his everything, his dark princess, and now, she'd been pushed out of his heart by someone her opposite in almost every way.

"Oh Buffy," Spike said aloud. "What have you done to me?"

*** *** ***

I know it's a short one, but new chapters two days in a row! Leave reviews, and I'll write more. I'll try to add a little more happiness next time. :)





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