Buffy unlocked Riley's apartment door slowly, still contemplating what she wanted to say to him. It opened with a loud squeak, and she stepped into the dingyness that was his living habitat.

"Riley?" she called out, putting her keys on the bar as she ventured into the room.

"Back here!" he answered. She followed his voice and the loud buzz of a razor to his bathroom.

"Hey." she said quietly, entering the flourscent light of the bathroom and sitting on the edge of the tub."We need to talk."

"Well then go ahead and talk while I get ready for work." Riley said, looking at her through the reflection of the mirror.

"It's kinda serious, so could you stop whatever you're doing?" she asked tersely.

"Shaving, Buffy, its called shaving. Girls shave their legs. Men shave their faces. You should know that, considering you live with one." Riley said shortly, continuing to move the razor over his strong jaw. Buffy stood up and glared at him through the mirror.

"I guess you want to get right to it then, don't you? Tell me why you and Spike argued." she demanded, planting her hands on her hips.

"Spike was being a know-it-all jackass." Riley said with a shrug.

"He was DEFENDING me!!" Buffy shouted, "Something you should have been doing for once in your life!"

"No, Buffy. He was trying to rattle my cage, by getting on Forrest's case, and telling me shit about Adam, and talking about how you LOOOVED his art." Riley spat, rinsing off the last of the shaving gel from his cheeks. He turned around to face his tiny, fuming girlfriend.

"Well, I say 'good on him'. Forrest needed someone to get on his case, since you apparently lack the strength to do so."

"Buffy, please." Riley rolled his eyes, "You really-"

She cut off his next words by raising her palm, and continuing, "And as for Adam, it wasn't shit. I TOLD you I was uncomfortable with him, and that he'd make a move. And way to go me! I was right!"

"Maybe it was a friendly move. Like a brother-to-sister thing, or something. You probably overreacted by punching him." Riley said, leaning against the sink.

Buffy gaped at him, and then laughed increduously, "Right! Of course! I overreacted!! It was a brother-sister move, you know, since INCEST is *sooo* friendly." she said sarcastically, and then turned on her heel and marched to the kitchen. Riley followed her.

"And the art?" he asked her. She grabbed her keys and then looked up at him, eyes swimming with brutal honesty and hurt.

"I do love Spike's art, Riley. I've loved it since I was a kid and he was still drawing cartoon characters and airplanes. You know that. Why make it such an issue now?" she said softly.

"Because you and Spike have always had this incredible bond that no one can touch. And you treat him so well, its almost like he is your husband, you know? And when I fell in love with you, I thought that if I could just get to that point with you...then you and I would be perfect. But the closer you and I get, the more I see how far away from me you are. Spike and you are just best friends. You and I are lovers. But I don't hold that piece of you I want to hold." Riley explained, searching the floor with his eyes as if it held the answer to all his problems.

"Riley...I am trying, okay? But..when you don't defend me against Forrest..and you take all your frusteration out on Spike...it hurts me." she said, tears coming to her hazel gems.

"To be honest, I don't want to defend you from Forrest, because I can see where he's coming from. Spike being the man I want to be for you, makes me more angry than hurt. You're a bitch." Riley said simply, coldness seeping into his eyes when they looked at her again.

Buffy reeled back as if she had been slapped. "What did you say?" she breathed in disbelief.

"You are a bitch. I try and TRY to be the one for you, but you never let me in. Your guy is right here!" he exclaimed, opening his arms to indicate himself, "and you ignore it. You aren't the long-haul girl, thats for sure."

"I- I can be!" she protested, the tears beginning to spill down her cheeks.

"No, you can't. You aren't capable of the commitment it takes for a relationship." Riley said, turning away from her and going to the kitchen to get a snack.

"A-are you breaking up with m-me?" Buffy stuttered, looking at his retreating back while she choked back sobs.

"Yes." Riley said simply, "Now, please return your key, and go home to your roommate."

Buffy let out a squauk of unbelief as the suddeness of the break-up hit her full force. She tugged the key off the ring and threw it at him in rage, and then ran out the door, pulling it shut with a satisfying bang.

She ran home, heedless of the tears running down her face until she caught her reflection in a liquor store window.

Liquor. Now there was an idea...

Spike entered the apartment in his usual fashion: open the door, hang his keys on the hook, pull off his jacket and toss it onto the couch, and then announce to everybody/Buffy/no one, that he was home. But this time he only got to item number 3, when his thrown jacket landed on a very intoxicated Buffy.

"Heeeeeey, Spike!" she drawled, holding up the vodka bottle and sloshing the remaining inch of liquid back and forth.

"Heeeeeey, Buffy!" Spike mimicked, an amused smile settling on his lips, "Wha's that you're drinkin'?"

"Noooo-thing!" she grinned innocently and took another swig, 'bleching' as it made fiery trails down her throat that led straight to her head, not her stomach. Spike jumped over the back of the couch and settled down next to her.

"Nothin', eh? You drank almost all 'f that nothing." he observed, tapping the glass of the bottle. She giggled.

"Yup, and wanna know something?" she whispered, leaning close to him. He nodded and leaned forward too, "Look in the refridgedairatoror."

Spike jumped up and opened the refrigerator door to reveal 10 more bottles full of Vodka, "Buffy! My god, girl. Wha' happened?"

"RILEY!" she answered, holding up the bottle again, "Riley broke up with me! Loser. He had a nice dick, but that's about all I liked about him. An' I bet your dick is ten times....no! One Hundred times better!! We should test that theory."

Spike's eyes shot up at her at that, and then he bit back a laugh. Hooo boy, she was even hornier than he was when he was drunk, "Yeah, okay, Love. You went out an' got drunk just because Whitebread broke up with you?"

Buffy waved her hand through the air, as if erasing what Spike said, "No no no...I'm apprently not the "long-haul girl". I have "commitment problems" and all that bull shit, " She said sadly, studying the label of her bottle, "But I sure am gonna miss his penis."

Spike made an expression of disgust at that, "Oh jeez, now you are startin' to sound like Anya."

"So, gonna join me in my drinking?" Buffy asked, standing up on wobbly legs and stumbling to the kitchen.

"Eh, I don' think so, pet." he said, backing away from her.

"What? You don't want us to," she fluttered her eyelashes, and put a hot hand on his leather-clad thigh, "take advantage of each other?"

"Um...no, I don't think tha' will be a good idea." he gulped at her speaking his words from the previous night, as her hand moved to his inner thigh. He reached down and pushed it away slowly.

"Fine!" she pouted, and then grabbed another full bottle from the fridge and stumbled back to the living room. Spike let out a sigh of relief… and then realized that Buffy was about to down another full bottle of alcohol.

"Buffy-Love, you are gonna get alcohol poisoning if you drink s' much. Why don' you give me that, and I'll pour you another couple'a shots, and then you'll be done for tonight?" he coaxed reaching over the back of the couch to retrieve the bottle.

"You are such a dork, Spike." she laughed, jumping across the coffee table to the Lay-Z-Boy. He leapt over the couch.

"I am not a dork." he whined, stepping over the coffee table.

"You know what? I'm gonna drink to that! To Spike, " she began in an a mock-formal voice, holding up the bottle for the umpteenth time that night, "the king of dorks, who's beautiful girlfriend broke up with him because he's a prude, and now he doesn't get any. Not like he was getting some before. To Spike!"

She took a triumphant swallow before Spike pulled the bottle from her iron grip and raised it in the air.

"To Buffy. The girl who will never get married because she's only good for sex, according to the best friend of her ex. Not like I would know, since I can only stand being friends with her, and since she can't commit to anyone else, I gotta fill the gap. To Buffy!" he took 3 long swallows.

"Hey! Thats too much!!" she whined, and grabbed the bottle back from him. "And Spike? You don't fill my gap. I don't think you're big enough." she said in a sultry tone.

"If I were drunk, I'd have a come-back for that, but I think I'm jus' gonna ignore it now." he said, pointing an accusing finger at her, "Wash your mouth out with soap."

"I'd prefer to wash it out with somethin' else." she said dryly, and gulped down the remaining vodka. "More please!"

"No." Spike said sternly, looking into her red-rimmed eyes. She leaned forward and grabbed his shirt collar.

"I am gonna drink EVERY. SINGLE. DROP. of alcohol in this apartment, so if you don't want me to drink it, you're gonna have to down it yourself, Prude." she enunciated the best she could through the slur of her heavy tongue. Then she stood and fumbled her way to the kitchen again.

"You are such a stubborn-" he trailed off when he saw her twist open yet another bottle and begin to gulp down the clear liquid. He stood up and jumped over and took it from her, putting the mouth of the bottle to his lips and drinking the rest. He gasped when he pulled it back and tossed its emptiness into the trashcan. "Cheers!" he said, and reached for another bottle...

CONTINUED...