A/N: So I decided I couldn’t leave it there and work on Professional Distance like I wanted to, so here’s more. The next chapter should be out soon, hopefully by the end of the weekend. Hope you like it. And reviews are always appreciated.

Skies are grey, I'm looking for anything that will bring a happy glow
Night or day, it doesn't matter where I go anymore; I just go
If I ever saw you coming I don't know what I would do
I'd like to think I could control myself, but it isn't true
That's how it is when things disintegrate
And I don't know how much longer I can wait

I'm doomed to love you, I've been rolling through stormy weather
I'm thinking of you and all the places we could roam together
-Bob Dylan, “Can’t Wait”

Buffy had a lot of time to wonder whether her decision to go to Spike was a good one or not on her way to New York.

She didn't really come to clear conclusion. She called Giles on her way to airport and he hadn't really asked about her motivation, he hadn't encouraged or discouraged her either. He just set up a car to meet her at the airport and take her to the house.

He sounded very tired, she decided. She wondered how much he'd been speaking to Spike lately, and what they had discussed. If she had talked to him since his first call, she may have seen that this wasn't working earlier.

Thoughts about what she could or couldn't have done weren't going to help, however.

When she reached the house, a lot of the lights were on, it was still early enough in the morning that it was pretty dark out. She stood in the doorway with her bags, wondering whether she should knock or not. Then she realized that was a ridiculous thought. Her drunk... probably boyfriend... was inside, passed out most likely, and possibly in danger.

She flung the door open and called out his name, when he didn’t answer she made her way into the kitchen. A good deal of empty bottles covered the counters, one of them was smashed against the wall.

This wasn’t a good sign. She followed the trail of Spike’s clothing and empty beer cans and glasses until she found him, clad only in his jeans, lying on the floor. She was so angry and scared and relieved all at once that she couldn’t stop the frustrated sobs that escaped her lips.

She clamped down hard on her emotions and took a deep breath before bending down next to him.

“Spike?”

He moaned softly and wrapped his arms tighter around his head.

“Spike, get up,” she said softly, shaking him a little.

His eyes blinked slowly open but they weren’t focused. “Give us a minute,” he managed to slur out.

“Spike, get up now.”

Finally, his eyes cleared and widened. “Buff..oh luv, I-”

She covered his mouth with her hand and helped him to sit up. “Don’t say anything, you’re still drunk. We’re not talking until you sober up.” She helped him stand and get into bed. She was more than grateful he didn’t attempt to get into his usual sleeping attire of nothing.

He was almost completely passed out again by the time his head hit the pillow, but he managed to reach for her hand.

Not giving it to him was one of the hardest things she’d ever done, but she knew it was only the beginning.

She walked out of his room and closed the door before she could think twice.

***

Buffy woke a few hours later after setting up shop in the room down the hall from Spike’s. She showered and dressed quickly before grabbing a large glass of water and some pain killers for Spike. She was glad he didn’t wake up before she could get out of there. The phone rang while she was making coffee later and she debated answering it before deciding she’d rather explain her presence to someone rather than wake Spike up. She still wasn’t sure how she was going to deal with him when he did.

“Hello?”

“Umm, I think I’ve got the wrong number, sorry-”

“No, wait, are you looking for Spike?”

“Umm, yes, this is Fred, who’s this?”

Buffy sighed in relief. She thought she heard a bit of Texas twang in her speech. If any other woman called looking for Spike, she might have been even more worried about this whole thing.

“This is Buffy, I don’t know if Spike told-”

“Oh, Buffy, hello, I guess Spike told you about me then? Of course he’s talked about you, all the good things he says seem to revolve around getting back to you.” Fred paused and seemed to realize she was rambling. “Sorry, the reason I’m calling... is everything ok? Spike was supposed to come in early today and-”

“Yeah, something did happen, nothing too major, but he’s a little out of sorts today.”

“Ok... well, Buffy, I know this may be a bit awkward, we don’t really know each other, but can you tell me what happened?”

Buffy sighed and looked around the kitchen. She hadn’t cleaned up yet, she was still deciding whether or not she’d be able to stand looking at it long enough to make Spike clean up his own mess.

“I don’t know, he called me last night, and I knew that he’d been drinking. He started saying things... He was scaring me, and I didn’t think he should be left alone is this is what’s going to happen. He’s passed out now.”

She heard Fred sigh and they were both silent for a moment. “Do you think you could have him call me when he’s awake?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that, I’m sure he’ll want to.”

“Thanks, Buffy, it’s good to finally talk to you.”

“Yeah, the same here, and thanks for all you’ve helped him with so far.”

“He’s lucky to have someone like you.”

Buffy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

Fred seemed to understand. “Goodbye, Buffy.”

“Goodbye.”

Buffy sat the phone down and rested her head in her hands. What the hell had she gotten herself into? She knew that there was no room to be soft with Spike. She had to be firm, she couldn’t let him do this to himself or her anymore. It was enough, she was ready to do what needed to be done.

***

Spike woke up with a groan. He felt like hell, and suddenly, when the memories of the night before and the morning flashed through his mind, he wondered if there was even a reason to get up at all.

He heard noises coming from the kitchen and he realized that Buffy was reason enough. She’d come to help him, he’d already basically spit in her face before by letting himself get this out of hand, he couldn’t do it again.

He saw the pain killers on the bedside table and swallowed them down before draining the whole glass. He stood slowly and shakily and pulled on a shirt before making his way downstairs. He watched Buffy making herself lunch for a while. He wasn’t sure when he’d next get a chance to watch her with open adoration again. She’d be sure to lay down the law today, that or tell him to get a life, she was leaving.

He’d kept drinking after she told him not to, he’d begun drinking in the first place, these were all good enough reasons. He ran a hand through his hair before stepping into the kitchen.

“Hey Buffy.”

She turned and looked him over for a moment before she managed a weak smile. “Feeling ok?”

He shrugged and sat at the counter. “You’re here, that makes things infinitely better than before.”

Buffy sighed and settled in on the other side of the counter. “We’ve got to talk. Are you up to it?”

He really didn’t think he was, but he nodded anyway.

“Things have got to change, Spike. Drastically.”

“I kn-”

“Don’t say it.” She cursed herself for snapping at him. “Sorry, I just... Let me talk for a while, ok?” Spike nodded and looked down. “We’ve tried a lot to work this out lately. Very little of it has worked. You going off by yourself, seeing Fred once a day for a few hours, leaving yourself all this time to sit around in self-pity, self-loathing, whatever, that was bad from the beginning.

“You need to actually live your life. You want to get better? You’ve got to try. We can talk, we have talked, about everything that you’re feeling. You’ve tried therapy now, and I think it’s helping, but you’ve got all this time by yourself to sit and regress. It’s stupid, Spike.

“You’re an addict. We know this. You’ll be addicted to heroin and coke and whatever else until the day you die. It won’t get that much easier, but you’ll be able to do it. You’re an alcoholic. I watched it, when we were together, I let it go because you seemed to be ok, but I get it now. You were pretty happy, we were happy, and you didn’t need to drink. When things start to get hard, you start and you don’t stop. If you just drank once in a while without using it to forget, you’d be ok, but you don’t.

“Everyone, me, your father, your sister, your friends. We all let it slide, we let your addictions slide, let your emotional problems slide. It’s too much for you and us. We all love you, I love you so much I can’t feel anything else sometimes. But I won’t watch you kill yourself. We’ve had these talks before, nothing ever happens. I know now that the reason for that is me not following through. We make a decision to change, and I just let you get deeper and deeper into yourself.

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m not your girlfriend. We’re done for now, for real.” She swallowed hard and looked away from him, trying to keep from crying.

“I can’t give in because I want it, it will kill us both. I’m here to help, but we won’t be sleeping together, resting together, anything like that together. I’m here for you, but we are not together.”

She finally looked up to meet Spike’s eyes. He nodded in understanding, but the pain was clear. “Yeah.” His voice was broken and low.

They sat in silence, avoiding each other’s eyes until Spike stood. “I should call Fred.”

Buffy nodded, and when he was gone she finally allowed herself to cry.

***

They fell into a routine that was much more comfortable than Buffy had first envisioned. That first day together was terrible. They barely talked, and when they did it was pained and curt. Spike went to see Fred and when he came back he was feeling better, but things were still strained.

After a week and a half, things were finally getting better. They’d locked the liquor cabinet and sent the key to his father. They had also gone up the attic and cleared out all of the reminders of he and Dru’s visit years ago. It was hard for Buffy to see it all, but she had expected it, and she knew that he was a different person now.

When Spike told her that he had something important to tell her at dinner that night, she figured she had an idea about what he would say.

“Ok, so Buffy, the thing is... and, I don’t know what this will mean, but-”

“Spike,” she said softly, reaching across the table and taking his hand. It was the first physical contact they’d had in so long she could actually feel the electricity. “Just tell me.”

He sighed. “I want to quit it. Methadone.”

They were both silent for a moment until Buffy squeezed Spike’s hand before letting go and he let out a sigh.

“Do you think you’re ready for that?”

“Quitting everything, aren’t I? Might as well get rid of that as well.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

Spike shifted uncomfortably. “You should probably wait to say that until after I’m done with it.”

“Spike, the fact that you’re willing-”

“Buffy wait.” She looked up at him expectantly and he sighed. “This isn’t all good news, luv. There is a downside.”

“And that would be?” Spike stood up and started taking the dishes to the sink. “Spike, c’mon.”

“I think you should go back to California for a while.”

“Wait, what?” She stood a followed him. “Hold on, you’re deciding to take a huge step, we’ve been working really well together, and now, when you’ll need me the most, you’re telling me to leave?”

“The withdrawals, Buffy. Bloody awful withdrawals. I don’t want you around for that.”

“Spike-”

“I’ll check into a bloody center for a while. I can’t have you seeing me like that.”

Buffy snorted and turned him so that he was facing her. “Please, like I haven’t seen you at your near worst already. I’ve seen the nasty underbelly of life with you, this is part of it, a big part. I want to be here for you, please don’t push me away now, not when we’ve come so far.”

Spike dropped his head down and reached for her hand, this time she didn’t pull away. “Are you sure about this?”

She stepped closer to him, so that their bodies were almost touching, but not quite. Spike felt his body react slightly from her proximity. “I’ve never been more sure about anything concerning you.”

Spike stepped closer, until their bodies were slightly brushing against each other. He brought his hand to her cheek and grazed his fingertips against it. “Buffy,” he whispered, his mouth centimeters from her ear. “You can’t know, what this means to me... what you do to me...”

“Spike...” She let her eyes drift closed. He was so close now, so deliciously near, and they’d denied each other for so long. It would feel so good to touch him again, to let him touch her. He knew her body better than she did, no one had ever made her feel the way he did.

His lips touched hers lightly and all the reasons they couldn’t rushed into her. She staggered back and hit the counter. “We can’t.”

Spike remained where he was, his hand moved up to brush through his bleached locks. “Sorry.”

Buffy took a deep breath and nodded. “It wasn’t just you, it’s ok. We just can’t risk it.”

“I know, and I am grateful for this, Buffy, really, truly in your debt. And even if things don’t-”

She put a finger to his lips and shook her head. “Don’t finish that sentence. Let’s just live in the moment for a while. Not regretting the past and worrying about the future.”

Spike nodded and put his hand over hers, bringing her palm to his lips and kissing it longingly. “Goodnight Buffy.”

She stood on shaky legs in the kitchen long after he’d left.