“So, who made the decision?” he asked.

Buffy Anne Summers turned her head slightly.

Alexander Lavelle III was leaning against the railing of the high-rise hotel room casually. Almost as casually as he’d posed the question. In his bespoke Saville Row suit and perfect wing-tipped Italian shoes.

The billionaire’s hair was slicked and set back. His head was crooked slightly to one side. His face was wearing an infuriating smirk.

It was a question Buffy would rather not answer.

“Does it matter?” Buffy asked. Snippily. Looking straight ahead. Again.

Xander chuckled. Now, he turned. And drank in the sight of her.

The gorgeous blonde was standing ramrod straight. Her hands placed on the railing. She was wearing her glossy, blonde hair down to her shoulders. Exactly the way he liked it. Her face had been painstakingly painted. Her eyebrows plucked. Eyes given a smoky hue. Cheeks contoured to perfection. Lips glossy and kissable. Her cute as a button nose flaring.

Xander’s briefly eyed her soft, creamy neck, before feasting on her high, firm breasts. His eyes ran over her tight, flat stomach before admiring the curve of her hips and her pert, voluptuous bottom – and her killer legs – both accentuated even more by six-inch high heels.

She just so also happened to be wearing the hell out of the silver mini dress his stylists had chosen for her.

Christ, she was beautiful, Xander thought. Gorgeous, actually.

No, Xander thought. Tonight she looked far beyond gorgeous. Downright stunning in point of fact.

And tonight, she was his. All his. To do with as he pleased. After months of waiting. Finally.

The wedding ring on her finger be damned.

Xander wondered if Buffy had truly forgotten to take the ring off. Or was simply waiting for the opportune moment to slip it off. A symbol of what she was putting aside when she went to bed with him. Imminently.

Hell, not that he cared. In fact, he’d prefer that she leave it on. It would make his victory over her poor husband William all the sweeter.

“I’m just curious,” Xander said. “About what made you change your mind.”

“We weren’t going to,” Buffy said. Now, a faraway look came over her eyes. “But then…things changed.”

Buffy took in a breath. Then blinked. Despite everything – the farce her life had degenerated into, the fact that she was here – she couldn’t help but admire the breathtaking view. Underneath them was an exotic island city. Filled with lights and fire. Love and laughter. But there was no love for her here. No laughter. Not tonight.

Briefly, Buffy wondered where she was. Where they were. Not that she’d asked. Or he’d offered to tell her.

“And both of us made the decision,” Buffy said. Finally. “Together.”

Like hell, Xander thought.

The thought of it – Buffy and William discussing the finer points of Xander’s offer and the arrangement – made Xander chuckle. Heartily.

“You don’t know him,” Buffy said. Fiercely. “And you don’t know me.”

“In the end he didn’t refuse,” Xander pointed out. He took a step closer to her.

“I’d never share you,” he added. His voice turning deeper. “Not with anyone. Not for all the money in the world.”

“You’re judging him?” Buffy said. Incredulously. “You’re the one who has to buy women.”

“I don’t,” Xander said. Off-handedly. “Ever.”

“So… what is this then?” Buffy asked. Sceptically.

Xander shrugged.

“You said I couldn’t buy you,” he replied. Now, he reached out. And gently touched her bare shoulder with a finger. “So I proved otherwise.”

“You can’t buy me!” Buffy said. The indignance in her voice took him aback.

Made his eyebrows rise to new heights. Wonder if she’d somehow misunderstood their arrangement.

“We’re just gonna fuck,” Buffy said. In a flat, matter of fact tone. “That’s all.”

Now, Xander smiled. That was music to his ears.

“We certainly are,” Xander said. Now, he stepped behind her. Then using his finger to roll the right strap of her dress down her shoulder. “I have you all to myself, tonight. Best deal I ever made.”

“Point proved,” Buffy said. Coldly.

“You might like it,” Xander quipped. He bent his head a little. Inhaling the sweet smell of her.

Buffy certainly smelled as incredible as she looked, Xander thought. He wondered if she’d taste equally as sweet.

“Don’t bet on it,” Buffy fired back.

“I think I will,” Xander said. Now, he bent his head down a little. And languidly brushing her golden locks aside, pressed his lips to the back of her neck. Buffy’s back stiffened even further. But she inhaled sharply. And the slightest shiver went through her body.

Bingo, Xander thought. He made a mental note to give the investigator who’d interviewed the bloke Buffy had slept with in college – while she’d briefly broken up with her then soon-to-be husband – a bonus.

The guy had bragged about discovering a pleasure spot on Buffy’s neck during their tryst. Of course, Xander had made sure the guy suffered later. He did hate braggarts.

Now, Xander placed his hands on Buffy’s hips. Then leaned forward and placed his lips near her ear.

“I bet you’re going to enjoy this,” Xander said. “Almost as much as I am.”

Buffy made to utter a retort. Something witty. And scathing.

“Turn around,” he added.

Buffy blinked. She knew she had no choice. This wasn’t a request. It was a command.

When she did, she found him standing close. Too close.

Acting on instinct, Buffy took a step back. To distance herself from him. Only to find herself off balance and threatening to go over the railing. Buffy gasped. Her arms shot out. And found only air.

Xander quickly leaned forward. Then, grabbing Buffy by the waist and by her elbow, pulled her back to safety. And straight into his arms.

Now, Buffy found herself left with nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. The desire in his eyes made Buffy bow her head. With embarrassment. And shame. For what she was about to do. For money. With him.

“Nothing will happen that you don’t want to,” Xander said. His tone was gentle. Soothing. “Trust me.”

Now, Buffy scoffed. When she raised her head, he saw her eyes were scathing.

“I could never trust you,” she said. Her voice dripping with disdain. “No more than I could ever love you.”

Xander took a beat.

“Fair enough,” he said. Now, he placed both hands on her hips.

“Now what say you and I….” Xander added. Looking her up and down and licking his lips.

“Carry on this truly fascinating conversation in a far more comfortable location.”

Buffy glanced over his shoulder. To the King-sized bed awaiting them. And a chilled bottle of champagne on ice by the bedside.

You have to, Buffy thought. You know you do.

“Hmmmm?” Xander asked.

Buffy took a small breath. Then nodded.

Now, Xander stepped back and Buffy stepped forward. They took another step. Then another. Buffy glanced over his shoulder again. The bed was getting perilously close now.

“Undress me,” he commanded. Imperiously.

Buffy placed her hands on his shirt, then began undoing his buttons. She forced herself to focus on the task at hand. Anything to not think about what she knew was going to happen. Slowly, she undid button after button. All the while attempting to ignore his hands – which went from her waist to her lower back. Then her bum.

Finally, Xander’s shirt was unbuttoned. And they were standing by the bed. Now, he stepped back and casually tossed his shirt aside. Revealing his killer physique. His stomach was rippling with abs. Not an inch of fat on them. His upper body was muscular without being bulky. Quickly, he unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. Revealing his silk boxer shorts emblazoned with the initials XHIII.

Buffy tried her best not to look at him. She had figured that he, with all that time and money, was in great shape.

Now, Xander plopped down on the bed. And putting his hands behind him, leaned back.

“Now, lemme see you take off that dress,” he commanded. Like the sultan of Assholistan. “Nice and slow.”

Bastard, Buffy thought.

For a moment, Buffy just stood there. Nervously. Wringing her hands.

God, she thought. What am I doing?

Meanwhile, Xander had picked up the champagne bottle on ice placed in a bucket by the bedside. Already, he’d begun to celebrate.

“Take your time baby,” Xander said. Placing his thumb at the mouth of the champagne bottle, he expertly popped it open. Then poured the fizzy drink into a champagne glass placed by the bedside. “We have all night.”

Now, Buffy scoffed.

Baby? Like, seriously?

Xander picked up the champagne glass. Then, looking up at Buffy, took a leisurely sip.

Buffy found herself standing there. Frozen.

“Some liquid courage?” he asked. Wryly. Offering up the glass.

Buffy hesitated. Then scooped up the bottle instead and took a long, defiant swig.

Now, Xander laughed.

That’s right, he thought. That’s exactly what I wanna see, Buff. The fire. The passion.

Suddenly, his patience seemed to run out.

“Take that dress off,” he said. “Now.”

You have to, Buffy thought. So just do it. Get it over with.

Still holding the bottle in her right hand – in case she found herself needing more – Buffy reached behind herself with her left. Carefully, she found the hook of silver mini dress she was wearing. And unclasped it.

Another moment passed. Buffy took in a breath. And the dress fell to the floor. Leaving her clad in just her lacy black bra and panties. And her high-heels.

Xander’s eyes darkened at the sight of her. He sat up a little. To better admire the view.

Buffy Anne Summers was a goddess. A golden goddess. And worth every goddamn penny.

“Fuck Buff,” he rasped. Licking his lips. “You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

Buffy just stood there. In truth, she felt utterly ridiculous in this get up. The entire situation felt like a farce.

Now, Xander to scooted the edge of the bed.

“What are you…” Buffy began. Skittishly. Forcing herself not to jump back.

When he planted a gentle kiss on her left thigh, Buffy gasped.

“So beautiful,” Xander mumbled. Then kissed her right thigh. “So fuckin’ sexy. My beautiful Buffy.”

Not yours, Buffy wanted to protest. I’ll never be yours.

Instead, she took another long, swig of the champagne.

“Do you think he’d enjoy it?” Xander asked. Suddenly. Looking up at her.

The question threw Buffy off balance.

“He?” she asked. Blankly.

“He,” Xander confirmed. Eyeing her high heels as he ran his hands up and down the back of her legs. “Him. Your husband.”

Buffy’s eyes turned deadly. Her nose flared. Her expression turned forbidding.

“Can. We. Not. Talk?” Buffy asked. Through gritted teeth.

“I’m just curious,” Xander continued. “If he’d enjoy it.”

“Enjoy what?” Buffy asked. In a deadly voice. She wasn’t really asking. More like telling him to watch himself.

“Watching us,” Xander said. Placing his hands on her hips. “Making love.”

Now, Buffy just stared down at Xander. Open-mouthed. Lost for words.

“I think William might get a little kick out of it,” Xander said.

Now, he brought her down to the edge of the bed besides him.

“Watching me take you in my arms,” he added.

Buffy was close enough to see it in Xander eyes. His dark desire.

Buffy steeled herself. But instead found herself surprised when he knelt on the floor in front of her.

“Laying you down and worshipping you. Like the goddess you are,” Xander said.

By now, he’d began running his mouth all over her legs. Her breathing quickened.

“My lips everywhere,” he added. “My tongue inside you. Reaching deeper than you could have ever imagined. Making you moan my name. Over. And over. And over again. Until you give yourself to me completely. Until you forget he even exists. Until you tell me you need me inside you.”

He paused now. To find Buffy leaning back. Her hands spread out behind her to supporting herself.

Her face was angled upwards. Haughtily. Her expression was scornful. Her fiery eyes were filled with contempt.

“You’re disgusting,” Buffy said. Finally.

“And you’re quivering,” Xander said.

Buffy took a moment. Then realised that she was. With anger. And disgust.

“Tell me what you want, Buff,” Xander said. “What you need.”

To be home, Buffy thought. With Will. Not here. Not with you.

The thought drove her to take another deep swig of the champagne.

Then, Buffy placed the bottle on the bedside table. Within easy reach. She figured she’d need afterward.

“What…” she began. Then took in a breath and shut her eyes. “What do you want me to say?”

“Remember the first time we met?” Xander asked. Now, he placed his forefinger on her belly button. Then gave it a little tweak.

No, she wanted to say. But she knew that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Besides, she did remember. It was, if nothing else, memorable.

“Yes,” Buffy said. Trying to clear her mind.

“I wanted you from the moment I saw you,” Xander said. His voice turning rough and low. “And you knew that. Didn’t, you?”

“Yes,” Buffy said. Her voice trembling with emotion.

I wish you’d never seen me, Buffy thought.

“I promised myself I would take you to bed that night,” Xander said. He languidly ran his finger from her belly button to the waistband of her panties. “Christ, I wanted you so bad.”

Buffy took in a quick breath when he began toying with the fabric.

It’s just sex, Buffy told herself. Just sex. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Tell me what you want Buff,” Xander said. His heated breath on her thighs.

“What…” Buffy began. When he kissed her thighs again, she bit her lip. “What do you want me to say?”

“Why don't you tell me what you and Will do...” Xander said. “And we’ll do the opposite.”

Now, Buffy’s eyes opened. They were acerbic and disdainful.

“Obsessed with him much?” Buffy asked.

“I’m just saying,” Xander said. “I'd be surprised if he knew what to do with you.”

Now, Buffy scoffed.

“And you think you do?” she asked. Acidly.

“I'll tell you what,” Xander said. “I'm gonna let you be the judge of that at the end of the night.”

“And you think… what?” Buffy said. “That’ll make a difference in my low opinion of you?”

Xander shrugged.

“All you have is my body,” Buffy said. “That’s all you’ll ever have. You know that, don’t you?”

Now, Xander sat up on his haunches.. Bringing them face to face. Nose to nose.

“Is that right?” he asked.

Then leaned forward to take her in his arms again.

“It’s not my heart,” Buffy said. Defiantly. Even as he his hand reached behind her to unclasp her bra. “Not my soul. You’ll never have those.”

Now, Xander paused. Buffy felt elated.

For the first time, she saw indecision flicker across his smug, confident face.

But only for a moment. And then it was gone.

“I’ll get over it,” the billionaire smirked. His hand on the clasp of her bra.

“Question is,” Xander said. “Will poor Willie ever get over the fact that I and his precious, perfect Buff….”

Suddenly, Buffy grabbed Xander by the throat. Hard.

“Don’t talk about him,” she said. Eyes gleaming with fury. “Ever again. Or I swear to god, I will end you.”

Buffy followed through on her threat by squeezing his windpipe. With a surprising strength he couldn’t have imagined she possessed.

But knowing she could probably kick his ass only made him want her more.

“Okay,” he croaked. “Okay.”

A moment passed. Buffy let go of his throat. And dropped her hands to her side.

Xander stood. Then, stepping back, massaged his throat. And cleared his voice.

Finally, having regained his composure, he stepped forward. And extended his hand in her direction.

“Shall we?” Xander asked.

Buffy took one deep, cleansing breath. Then, placing her hand in his, allowed him to pull her to her feet and into his arms.

“Yes?” Xander asked. One final time. For confirmation.

“Yes,” Buffy whispered. As he placed her hands around his neck.

“I meant what I said,” Xander said. Leaning forward, he picked her up. Easily.

Buffy’s hands tightened around his neck of their own accord. Her legs briefly flailed in the air – before he guided them around his waist.

“Nothing will happen that you don’t want to,” Xander said. Stepping forward and onto the bed. “And that’s a promise.”

And then they were falling, falling, falling down onto the bed, tangled together.

Two years ago…..

“Do you Buffy Anne Summers take William Pratt to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do,” Buffy said, beaming, looking resplendent in a fine white gown.
“Do you William Pratt take Buffy Anne Summers to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do,” William said, winking at her.

Buffy couldn’t help the snort of laughter that emerged from her, even as she gave him a glare as if to say ‘not now.’

God she looks beautiful, William thought grinning. Damn but I’m a lucky son of a bitch.

“The rings,” the pastor said. Buffy and William half-turned so that their ringbearers could hand them off. Buffy took her ring from Dawn, and William from his cousin Wesley.

“With this ring I thee wed,” Buffy said, slipping it on William’s fingers. A moment later he had repeated her words. And even before the pastor could proclaim them married, William had pulled Buffy in for a long, passionate kiss.

“Woot Woot!” Faith screamed, as Buffy and William continued to kiss.

After the couple had cut the wedding cake and had their first dance as man and wife, everyone else joined in.

“Hands where I can see them,” William quipped, as Wesley and Dawn danced by.

“William,” Wesley said, his face red as a beet. “I was only just…..”

“He was talking to Dawnie,” Buffy laughed.

“Har har har,” Dawn said, scowling at Buffy.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” William said, pushing one of her stray hairs behind her ear.

“No,” she pouted. “Not today.”

“Well I do,” he said. “Love you. Madly.”

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” Buffy teased.

“Only the pretty ones pet,” William retorted cockily.

“How many pretty ones have you said that to?” Buffy said, her eyes darkening.

“Just you my love,” William said, a teasing lilt in his voice. Then he turned serious.

“Just you.”

A year and a half ago……

“God I love our house,” Buffy squealed. “I mean, I know it’s kinda old and the insides look like it was designed by the guy who does Lady Gaga’s outfits. But still…..”

“Oh don’t hold back luv,” William said wryly. “Tell me what you really think.”

“Shut up,” Buffy said. “I love it. Really”

“It’s a bloody steal,” Spike said, coming forward to touch the stoop of the porch. “And we own it. Not bad eh.”

“Not bad at all,” Buffy said, checking out her husband’s very firm ass, a huge smile on her face.

“My thoughts exactly,” William said, turning around.

Their eyes met. They both were thinking the same thing. Buffy set off, squealing as he gave chase, running all over the lawn in zig-zag patterns, finally ducking into the house. William followed, never bothering to lock the door after him.
“I love you,” she said finally, resting her head on his chest. They’d spent all day christening every room and now, after many hours, they were finally sated.

When William said nothing, Buffy looked up at him. His eyes were closed. Her jaw dropped.

Wait. Was he? He was? He’d fallen asleep on her. The son of a bitch.

Just then, he lifted his head and winked at her.

“Gotcha,” he said, grinning like the idiot he was.

Buffy responded by grabbing him in a very delicate area. Not so delicately.

“Easy,” he pleaded. “Easy.”

“Are you saying I’m easy?” she said, squeezing threateningly.

“Buffy,” he hissed. “I’m sorry allright. I was just….”

“Gotcha,” she said, winking at him.

“By the bloody balls,” he said in wonderment.

“God help me. I love it.”

Buffy smiled indulgently at him, beginning to stroke him gently. When he was the slightest bit aroused she lowered herself to take him into her mouth.

One year ago….

The couple laughed as they entered into the casino hand-in-hand.

“Atlantic city,” Buffy marveled, looking around at the splendid decor. “Wow.”

“I’m so glad we took some time off,” William said. “You really should get out more of that stuffy gallery.”

Buffy fixed him with a pointed looked that told him to change the subject.

“Oh look,” William said, “a water fountain. In the lobby.”

“Huh,” Buffy said, examining the texture, shaking her head. “I guess money can buy a lot, but it can’t buy taste.

Unbeknownst to her, her off-hand remark was overheard by a man sitting in the hotel lounge. The man who owned that very hotel. He looked like any other hotshot wall street broker in a fine suit, reading a crisp financial newspaper.

Xander Harris’s mouth turned up just a little as he surveyed the gorgeous blonde from behind his dark glasses. He took them off, dangling them at his side to get a better look.

God, he thought. She was stunning. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful specimen. He knew he just had to have her. With a subtle wave of his hand, he beckoned the on-duty floor manager.

“Mr Harris Sir,” he heard the employee say. “I’m at your service. I trust…..”
Xander gestured for him to come closer, then whispered his instructions into the man’s ear.

“Yes sir,” Xander heard, never once taking his eyes off the woman. “Very good sir.”

A few minutes later at the front desk, Buffy and William were being told that every room was full and that their reservations were lost.

“Oh you have to be kidding me,” Buffy said, glaring daggers at the hapless employee.

“We apologize again,” the manager said. “Please let us make it up to you.”

“Let me guess,” William said sarcastically. “A coupon right? No wait, a bagel maker.”

“We are prepared to offer you one of the empty suites,” the manager said, adopting a long suffering air. “Until a normal room becomes vacant, of course.”

Buffy and William exchanged an incredulous look.

“OK then,” William said, a little shocked at the turn of events.

“Lead the way skippy,” Buffy said perkily, mouthing wow at her husband.

Xander watched the couple being led away. Just then he received an e-mail on his Iphone. He smiled at the proficiency of his research staff that he employed to get the scoop on women that caught his eye. Many in his organization had dubbed the group ‘The Pussy Patrol.’

“Buffy Anne Summers,” Xander muttered, running his eyes over the words on the hastily assembled document detailing her life and containing some of her facebook pictures.

A smiling happy life, Xander thought. A fulfilled one, or so it seemed. But was it really? Xander was looking forward to finding out.

“I’ll be seeing you soon Buffy,” Xander said.

“I think I could get used to this,” Buffy said, examining the beautiful paintings and the exquisite furnishings of the room.
“Damn straight,” William said letting out a whistle as he tipped the porter who bowed obsequiously and left.

“I’m afraid to touch anything,” Buffy confided as she sat down on the sprawling white sofa.

“Anything?” William said, his tone leaving no doubt as to what he was thinking.

“Well,” Buffy said, patting the sofa. “Maybe not just anything.”

“Come here then,” Wiliam said quickly stripping off his shirt.

“Babe I’m dirty,” Buffy said, faux-whining.

“Right,” William said as he quickly stripped her down to her
bra and panties. “Shower then. Good idea.”

And with that he slung her over his shoulder. Buffy pretended to carry on her protest for just a little while longer, slapping William’s back with her hands and calling him a pig. They made love in the spacious shower twice. Once quickly, and once slow. Finally, they stumbled into the bedroom, where they slept and made love intermittently throughout the day.

“Babe,” William heard his wife shriek, many hours later. “Oh my god. Look at this.”

He raised his head. Buffy was standing in front of an open closet, filled with a variety of outfits of all shapes and sizes. She looked like she’d died and gone to heaven. She held up an elegant red dress against her, then a tiny silver one.

“Do hotels just give out clothes with their suites?” Buffy asked, biting her lip.

“No idea,” William said. “Not exactly richie rich here.”

“Couldn’t help but notice,” Buffy snorted.

“Ouch,” William said, and Buffy gave him a winning smile to soften the quip.

“Why did I marry you anyway?” Buffy said. “Remind me.”

“Because I’m sexy and great in bed,” William smirked. “That and I have a huge….”

“Is that what I told you?” Buffy teased. “Must have slipped my mind.”

Buffy chuckled as her husband muttered something under his breath about ‘women and source of all evil.’

“What are you doing?” William asked, when she picked up the phone.

“Dialling reception. There has to be some mistake.”

“Gifts and horses,” William muttered. “Isn’t that how it goes?”

Buffy shushed him and began talking to the receptionist.

“Huh,” she said, hanging up the phone. “They said it was complementary. To make up for their mistake. Oh and we have the room for the entire trip here. And a thousand dollars credit in the casino.”

“Quite the little scam we have going here,” William chuckled. “We should show up at hotels more often and pretend to have reservations.”

“Shyeah,” Buffy chuckled. “Or someone up there really likes me.”

“Oh and it’s all about you is it?” William retorted raising his eyebrow. “It couldn’t possibly be me Irish good luck?”

“First of all you’re british,” Buffy said. “Ireland is like different. Kinda.”

“So you’re not really a blonde are you,” William sighed.

“And second,” Buffy continued, as if she hadn’t heard him.

“It’s always about me.”

“I’ll try and remember that pet,” William said dryly.

“See that you do,” Buffy warned, then perked up. “So you up for some gambling?”

“Only with my dignity luv,” William said, turning away. “I think I’ll sleep it off.”

“I wanna gamble,” Buffy said outraged, tugging at his shoulder whining just a little. “Spike. Come on.”

“Sleepy,” William said, putting on a show of snoring, ignoring the fact that she called him Spike. She only ever
did that when he pissed her off. “So….sleepy.”

“Fine,” Buffy said, pouting. Then an idea struck her.

“How about one for the road,” Buffy said, lowering her voice until it was low and intimate. “For luck.”

In a flash William had spun around and taken her into his arms.

“For the record,” he said, “I’m only doing this for you.”

“Such a humanitarian,” Buffy said.

“I give,” William said. “I’m a giver. It’s my curse.”

Suddenly Buffy pushed him away, in a not so delicate manner.

“Hey!” William protested. “You get that fantastic arse right back here Summers or so help me god….”

“In your dreams,” Buffy said. “I’m off to play the ponies.”

“You just gonna leave me like this?” William asked, pointing down.

“I thought you were sleepy,” Buffy said, putting her hands on her hips.

“Sleep-ish,” William said. “You misheard.”

“Obviously,” Buffy said disbelievingly. “Are you coming or what?”

“Depends,” William smirked.

“On?” Buffy said.

“On that very talented mouth of yours,” William said. “Or in. Whichever you prefer. I’m a gentleman.”

“Are you coming gambling?” Buffy specified, rolling her eyes. “Perv,” she mumbled.

“Oh,” William said, considering it. “Nah. Night Summers.”

“Argh,” Buffy said. “Men.”

She grabbing the elegant black dress that she had laid out in a huff and stomped away into the bathroom.

“I’m going gambling.” She yelled. “Don’t wait up.”

Under the covers William smirked. The game, Mrs Summers-Pratt is on, he thought.

Twenty minutes later, in the hotel penthouse Xander Harris’s phone buzzed. Only one other person in the world had that number. His private assistant Willow.

“Why the hell am I getting an urgent message from hotel security about some bimbo?” he heard a cheesed off voice say.

Xander chuckled. Only one person in the world could talk to him like that. Sometimes he wondered if he was working for her instead. He probably needed her more than she needed him. She was like a sister, friend and mother all rolled up into one.

“I don’t know why,” Xander said. “I was supposed to get the call about some bimbo.”

“I’ll tell you why Xander Lavelle Harris the Fourth,” Willow said. “Because only I have your number. I had to hang up on someone. For some bimbo.”

“Hang up on someone eh?” Xander said. “You sly dog you.”

“Don’t change the subject,” Willow warned. “So what’s the deal?”

“Oh just some girl staying at the hotel,” Xander said off-handedly. “Nothing much. And that bimbo could be the next ex Mrs Summers. Show some respect.”

“Not bloody likely,” Willow said. “She’s married. But you knew that, didn’t you?”

Xander could sense the judgement in her voice.

“I had no idea,” Xander said. “Relax will. Nothing’s going to happen that she doesn’t want to.”

“God,” Willow said. “I hate it when you say that.”

“So what did security say?” Xander asked, trying not to sound too eager.

Willow hesitated. God, she didn’t want to lie to Xander. She was the one person he counted on to be honest with her. Everyone else just wanted a piece of his money.

Willow looked down at the black and white security photo she’d been given by hotel security. She had to admit that the girl was gorgeous. But still. She was married. And she hated to judge a book by its cover, but come on. A girl like that? She was always looking to hit the lotto. The BBD. The bigger, better deal.

“Will,” Xander said. “What did security say?”

Willow said nothing.

“Will?”

Xander heard his friend sigh deeply.

“She’s on the casino floor,” Willow said.

“Is she?” Xander said, carefully weighing Willow’s words.
“Alone? asked carefully.

Willow could just see the cat who got the canary smile on Xander’s face.

“Alone,” Willow confirmed.

“Not for long,” Xander said, jumping out of bed, holding the phone to his ear.

“Xander,” Willow said in warning. “Stay away from her. She’s trouble. I can sense it.”

“Someone needs to be there for her in her time of need,” Xander said, already picking out his suit. “Might as well be me.”

“Wish me luck,” Willow heard him say, before he unceremoniously hung up the phone.

“Good luck,” Willow said, shaking her head. “Ya dumbass.”

For ten minutes, Buffy just walked around, watching all the beautiful people drinking and squandering thousands and thousands of dollars. She held onto her meagre chips so tightly, she could feel the blood draining from her hand.
Two thousand dollars, Buffy thought. If I had any sense I would just cash it and invest it in low-risk government bonds.

Oh god, Buffy winced. I think I just turned into my mother. I need a drink.

She beckoned to one server, who glided down to her and poured her some champagne.

“Thank you,” Buffy said, brandishing a chip

“No charge,” he said, waiving her away.

“Oh,” Buffy said, feeling foolish. “Wow. No wonder Trump can’t keep a casino open. You guys are just giving stuff
away.”

“More?” he offered, flashing a look at the Casino manager, who gave him the slightest nod.

“No,” Buffy said. “I’m good. Thank you.”

Relieved at having taken care of the lady properly, the server scooted away. He really needed this job. And he wasn’t about to half-ass it. Not for a guest of Mr Harris.

“Don’t go too far,” Buffy ribbed good naturedly, pointing to him, then pointed to her eyes, imitating De Niro in ‘Meet the Parents.’

“I sure won’t Ms Summers,” he called after her.

Buffy frowned. Wait, he knew her name? Then she shook away that thought. Of course he knew. She bet he knew the name of every customer in the bar. That’s probably how they got most of their tips. By keeping tabs on the guests.

Buffy walked over to the roulette table, crowded with mostly trophy wives, and fat men in Armanis who were puffing on cigars.

“Finally,” she muttered. “A game I can understand.”

Buffy turned to an elegantly dressed elderly woman by her side.

“I can’t believe some of those other games. I mean, you have to be like rainman or something. But roulette. Any idiot can play this game.”

“I’m playing this game,” the lady said, sniffling.

“Oh…..I didn’t mean,” Buffy trailed off at the haughty, icy look she was receiving.

“And I’m going to shut up now,” Buffy mumbled, turning away.

“Place your bets please,” the croupier said. A flurry of activity took place. Buffy hesitantly placed one chip onto the
table.

“Sorry ma’am,” the croupier said, shaking his head. “This is a five hundred dollar table.”

“I’m sorry?” Buffy said. “A what now?”

“The minimum bet is five hundred dollars little lady,” she heard a fat gentleman with a southern drawl say.

“Oh,” Buffy said, reaching for her little black ten dollar chip. “Sorry….too rich for my blood.”

“Not if you marry right honey,” she heard someone say. The gaggle of plastic looking trophy wives emitted a shrill noise that Buffy could have sworn resembled something like laughter.

“Excuse me,” Buffy said, grasping the little chip. Suddenly a hand was on hers.

“Leave it,” she heard him say. “Please.”

Buffy turned to look at him. He was very well dressed. Smiling too. Not too bad on the eyes either. Buffy looked down at the table. His hand was still on hers.

“Sorry,” Xander said, withdrawing his hand, giving he a polite smile. “Leave it. Please.”

“Harold,” he instructed the croupier. “You should know better than to be rude to a lady. That’s not the type of
establishment we are.”

“Yes Mr Harris,” the chastened man said. “I do beg your apology madam.”

“Oh don’t worry about it,” Buffy told the croupier. “Really.”

She missed the angry look Xander shot the casino manager who covered his face with his hands.

“Are we going to place some bets or not?” someone in the crowd said and a chorus of hoots and hollers followed.

“Place your bets folks,” the croupier repeated.

“Please,” Xander told Buffy, “place your bet.”

“Okay,” Buffy said. She ran her chip over the numbers, then stopped at Red 17.”

“Why red?” Xander asked.

“I like red,” Buffy said, watching the wheel spin.

“Black 23,” the croupier announced, amidst a few groans and one yippee.

“And 17?” Xander enquired.

“I’m sorry,” Buffy said. “Are you the manager or something?”

Buffy saw his face tighten just a little, and then he was looking embarrassed.

“Actually….” Xander said, trying not to sound like a braggart. “I kinda…..own this hotel.”

“Oh,” Buffy said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“Oh no,” Xander said. “I love to just come here and mingle.
Nothing like a good crowd.”

“A real man of the people huh?” Buffy teased.

“Only here actually,” Xander said. “This was my first hotel.”

“You never forget your first do you?” Buffy said, with a small smile.

“So why 17?” Xander asked.

“It’s kinda personal,” Buffy said delicately. God, she must
sound like a bitch.

Xander threw up his hands, as if to show he was backing off the subject.

“I’ve noticed that,” Xander said, distantly.

“Hmmmmm?” Buffy said, after placing another bet on red 17. “What?”

“People often play the numbers that are very special to them,” Xander said. “Win or lose. They just love the number.”

“Third time’s the charm,” Buffy said. “Red 17. Hundred bucks.”

“Me too,” Xander said. “Red 17.”

“And how much for you Mr Harris?” the croupier asked.

“I don’t know,” Xander shrugged. “Five grand.”

Buffy blinked. Did he just bet Five grand? On her lucky number? A small alarm bell began ringing in her head, even as a voice told her he was just being friendly. Or he was just plain hitting on her. Buffy was flattered, but wary. Better not lead him on or anything, she resolved. Be firm, but polite. God, I wish Will were here, Buffy thought.

“Red 17,” the croupier announced, to a few howls of protest and derision.

“Oh my god,” Buffy said, looking wide eyed, then laughing. “I won. I won. I won!”

“Seventeen hundred dollars madam for you madam,” the croupier said. “Congratulations.”

“I’ve never won anything before,” Buffy said in awe.

“Me neither,” Xander said before receiving a disbelieving look from Buffy. “Okay fine. I win all the time. Are you happy?”

Buffy laughed as the croupier shot Xander a pleading, apologetic look that he only half-acknowledged.

“Wait just a cotton picking minute,” the Texan said. “Do you mean to tell me that the owner of this god dang hotel just so happened to place his bet on Red 17? What type of scam are you people running?”

“Are you calling me a hustler?” Xander said, shooting the Texan a menacing look. Buffy could feel the air change. A tension that wasn’t there before suddenly permated the air. She needed to think quickly.

“Hey!” Buffy said, shoving over to get in the Texan’s face. “It was my number! Are you calling me a liar buddy?”

“No Ma’am,” the Texan said, doffing his hat. “I’d never impugne the reputation of a lady. Her virtue on the other
hand…”

Buffy scoffed as everyone devolved into laughter, then made her way back.

“Oh honey,” the rich Texan said, wiping his eyes. “The pair of balls on you. If I was twenty years younger…”

“You’d be a hundred,” Buffy mumbled, and Xander let out a snort.

“Place your bets,” the croupier said.

“We should stop,” Buffy said, biting her lip.

“Why?” Xander said. “You never stop when you’re on a hot streak.”

“Said the owner of the hotel,” Buffy said distrustfully. “How do I know you’re not just trying to get your money back?”

“Maybe I am,” Xander said, the slightest smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

She has no idea who I am.

Buffy heard muffled laughter from the gaggle of second and third wives huddled together.

“Excuse me?” she said. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re talking to one of the richest men in the country,” the leader of the plastic barbies said caustically. “He probably wipes his…..”

“Ladies,” Xander said, going over and interrupting them. “To the bar! For the next ten minutes drinks are on me.”

The herd sped off at a speed which Buffy couldn’t have believed.

“Good riddance,” the Texan drawled. “Wives and guns. Two things a man should never bring into a Casina.”

“Didn’t I see you on the Simpsons?” Buffy said, pointing her hands into the air and mock firing them as guns. “Do me a favour. Say Yee-Haw.”

“I like you little lady,” the Texan said, with a grin. “You remind me of my first three wives. The nose of the first. The butt of the first. And the third…”

“I think that’s quite enough,” Xander said.

“Sorry pardner,” the Texan said, hooking his thumb into his belt. “Just being friendly. Didn’t mean to upset your woman.”

“I am not his woman,” Buffy seethed.

Xander turned to look at her. “How is that an insult?”

“I mean I’m not anyone’s woman,” Buffy said. “I’m a person.”

“Feminazi,” the Texan said, throwing up his hands. “I’m done here. You’re welcome to her buddy.”

“What a shame,” he said, shaking his head. “We could have had something you and me. Something special.”

“I’ll live,” Buffy said dryly.

“Place your bets,” the croupier said.

“I’m out,” Buffy said.

“Are you sure?” Xander said. “You can play anything. I’m sorry if he was rude to you.”

“No really,” Buffy said. “I should be getting back to…..”

“Me,” she heard her husband say, then felt his lips on the back of her neck and his arm around her waist.

“Hey baby,” Spike said, his voice deeper than usual. “Miss me?”

Buffy glanced at him. Oh my god. She couldn’t believe it. He looked exactly like the day they’d first met. His brown curly hair was gone, and in it’s place the straight bleached blonde. His usual soft smile was curled up into a sneer that made her pussy tingle. She loved seeing this side of him outside the bedroom.

“Mmmm,” Buffy said, as he kissed her neck. “I thought you were sleepy.”

“Wide-awake,” Spike said, his hand moving down to cup her ass. Buffy turned her face to his and Spike swallowed her mouth in a passionate kiss. Xander politely turned his face away, but inside he was seething with jealousy. He knew he shouldn’t be of course. She belonged to another. But still. To him? This guy? And the way she was making out with him in public. They were kissing each other like they were drowning and needed air.

After a moment, Buffy turned her face away, then rested it on his shoulder.

“Xander,” Buffy said. “This is my husband Will.”

Xander gave the couple a tight smile and extended his hand. “My best friend is called Will.”

“William,” Spike clarified, shaking his head slowly. “Friend call me Spike though.”

“I see,” Xander said, thumping the roulette table gently.

“Well...William, would you like to have a go?”

“Would you?” Spike asked, meeting Xander’s eyes, tightening his grip on Xander’s hand.

As the men met each other’s eyes, and squeezed each other’s hand harder and harder it was clear as day to both of them what the other was thinking.

You little shit, Spike thought. You want to fuck my wife. I see it in your eyes motherfucker.

That’s right, Xander thought. I do. I want to fuck that gorgeous wife of yours. Make her scream my name until she loses her mind and forgets you even exist.

Xander already regretted that he hadn’t thought of arranging for ‘Spike’ to be delayed somehow. A girl bumping into him at the elevator and propositioning him back to her room maybe. Or an an unfortunate ‘accident’ on the way. Nothing serious, just enough to keep him sedated and out of the way for a few hours. Nothing he hadn’t pulled before, a million times.

A million, Xander thought, his smile spreading wide. Now that gives me an idea.

Xander knew Buffy wasn’t going to be in his bed. Not tonight anyway. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun. Give give her something to remember him by. And piss off her smug, son of a bitch husband in the process too. Who knows what the possibilities were.

Win, win Xander thought. I always fucking win.

“Uh guys,” Buffy said. “Could you stop shaking hands now? It’s getting kinda gay.”

The men let go of each others hand, frozen smiles still in place.

“Please,” Xander said. “You’re my guests. Let me entertain you tonight.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Buffy said.

Spike was disinclined to let this snake anywhere near Buffy, but the happy look on her face gave him pause.

Fuck it, Spike thought. He doesn’t have the balls to try anything. Not with me around anyhow.

“You’re on Harris,” Spike said. “Lead the way.”

A couple of hours later, the three of them arrived back at the hotel, slightly tipsy and quite exhausted. Despite Spike’s reservations the entire evening had turned out to be quite a blast. They’d visited all the hottest clubs, hobnobbed with celebrities and feasted on sumptuous food. When Xander suggested coming up to his suite for one last drink, Spike’s inhibitions had been lowered enough by the booze that he hadn’t refused when Buffy had insisted she needed one more drink.

“I could so get used to this,” Buffy said, collapsing on the couch.

“Me too,” Spike sighed, stretching out.

“Used to what?” Xander said innocuously. Xander felt his body tingle. He had really turned on the charm all evening, gotten them good and lubricated. He was almost ready to move in for the kill. Just the possibility that it could happen, crazy as it was, was giving him a raging hard-on. Xander felt his mouth go dry. His wicked mind had all evening to formulate the plan. It was go time.

“This,” Spike said, slurring his words slightly. “The good life.”
“Anyone can,” Xander said. “It’s just a matter of doing what’s necessary.”

“What’s necessary?” Buffy asked.

“Doing what’s necessary,” Xander elaborated. “To get ahead. To come out on top. Law of the jungle.”

Spike snorted.

“So where do you see yourself in ten years Spike?” Xander asked.

“Wouldn’t mind being a billionaire like yourself,” Spike chuckled.

“I hear that,” Buffy laughed.

“I mean,” Xander said. “Beyond money.”

“What would satisfy you completely? Let you sleep well at night?”

“You’re saying you’re not satisfied?” Spike said incredulously.

“Who is?” Xander said.

“I am,” Buff said, raising her hand. “Hello. Third wheel here.”

“She mean it?” Xander asked Spike.

“God I hope so,” Spike said.

“I’m right here,” Buffy said. “Am I invisi-girl or something?”

“Well you’re a lucky man William,” Xander said, emphasizing the name slightly. Buzzed as Spike was, the use of his name William raised his hackles slightly.

“I have money, security, businesses…but you have something that I just don’t have,” Xander said, gesturing to Buffy.

Spike’s mouth tightened as he read the meaning in Xander’s eyes.

Don’t have yet, they seemed to say. But I will. That’s a promise.

“I guess there’s limits to what money can buy,” Buffy said, shaking her head, still oblivious to the subtext.

“Not many,” Xander said, casually.

“Some things aren’t for sale,” Spike said.

Like my wife motherfucker, Spike thought. You can’t have her. Ever.

“Such as?” Xander asked.

“People,” Buffy said. “You can’t buy people.”

“That’s naïve Buffy,” Xander chuckled. “I’m a businessman. I buy people everyday.”

“In business maybe,” Buffy said. “But not when there’s real emotions involved.”

“You’re saying you can’t buy love?” Xander said. “That’s a bit of a cliché. Look at all those rich men and their hot young wives.”

“It’s absolutely true,” Spike said, backing up his wife.

“Is it?” Xander asked Spike, then turned to Buffy.

“What do you think Buffy? Really?”

For the first time, Buffy felt a twinge of unease.

“I agree with my husband,” Buffy said, making a point of pronouncing the final word.

A moment of silence held sway.

“I’d like to test that theory,” Xander said. God, he was so horny. His entire body felt like it was on fire.

“What does that mean?” Spike asked, his voice hinting at the slightest hint of threat.

“Suppose,” Xander said. “And I’m only being hypothetical here.”

Buffy looked from Spike to Xander, a knot forming in her stomach. “Suppose I give you both a million dollars,” Xander said, looking straight at Spike.

“For what?” Buffy said, her voice barely a whisper. Oh god. She had a bad feeling about this. A bad, bad feeling.

Xander turned to look at Buffy, giving her his gentlest smile. Buffy knew what he was going to say before he said it. She just knew it. Still, that he could say the words shocked her.

“For one night with you,” Xander said. “A million dollars.”

Oh my god, Buffy thought. The look he was giving her. Like he wanted to take her. Right here, right now. In front of her husband. Buffy was appalled. The silence went on and on and on. Until it didn’t.

“I’d assume you were kidding,” Spike said, his fist tightening by his side, the grin on his face frozen. “Naturally.”

“Of course I am,” Xander said, sitting back, and chuckling. “I’m only kidding. I’m a kidder.”

But that somehow only increased the tension in the air.

“But let’s pretend I’m not,” Xander said, his voice serious once again. “What would you say William? Would you give me your wife tonight for a million dollars?”

“He’d tell you to go to hell,” Buffy said, finding her voice at last. Now that the shock had worn off, Buffy felt nothing but outrage. Oh god. How could he even suggest such a thing? What type of woman did he think she was?

“I’d like to hear him say it,” Xander said, never taking his eyes off Spike.

“I’d tell you to go to hell,” Spike said, through gritted teeth.

“That’s a reflex answer because you view it as a hypothetical,” Xander said, smiling widely.

“Is that right?” Spike challenged.

Go on mate. Show me your cards. I’m calling ya.

“Let’s say there was real money behind it,” Xander said. “Shall we?”

Xander clapped his hands and a man emerged from one of the many rooms in the back. Buffy saw him place two black briefcases on the table. Xander popped each of them open wide and pushed it towards Buffy and Spike.

“A million dollars,” Xander said. “Cash. No questions asked.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Buffy whispered to herself, still in shock. She couldn’t even bring herself to come to terms with it, much less, examine the briefcase. Her head spun. What was going on?

“How about two million?” Xander asked, clapping his hands again.

Another two briefcases were brought and popped open, overflowing with cash. Buffy covered her mouth with her hand. Buffy opened her mouth to scream, but she couldn’t speak. She’d lost her voice. Buffy looked at Spike and saw murder in his eyes.

Keep digging pal, Spike thought. You just keep digging. You have no idea what kind of girl Buffy is. Saves me the trouble of telling her what a no good son of a bitch you are.

“William,” Xander said. “I’m feeling kinda crowded here. Think you could give us some space pal?”

“"Us?” Spike intoned, his voice gruff with anger.

“Xander,” Buffy said, breathlessly, afraid at what her husband would do. “Please.”

“It’s okay Buffy,” Xander said, cutting her off, giving Spike a warm smile. “There’s no need to be afraid.”


Xander looked back at Spike, a sympathetic smile coating his face. The poor shmuck. Xander almost felt sorry for William. It was only a matter of time before he lost her to a better man. It was inevitable. Still, he'd have a few million reasons to help ease the pain.

“I think,” Xander said, choosing his words with care. “Buffy and I are going to have some alone time right now. Get to know each other a little better.”

Time froze. No-one moved. Buffy couldn't breathe. She could see Spike’s jaw twitch.

More than just a little better, Xander thought smirking as he latched the briefcases and pushed them towards Spike.

“What?” Buffy croaked horrified. "Xander what are you saying?"

“It's okay Buffy," Xander said reassuringly. She was shy. That was all. He’d be sure to ease her into it . “We're all grown ups here. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about here. No shame in what happens between consenting adults.”

“Take these downstairs,” Xander said to Spike, tapping the cases. “Don't worry about a thing. Your beautiful wife is in good hands. Nothing will happen that Buffy doesn’t want to. I promise.”

Spike began to rise and Buffy just knew he was going to kill Xander. For real. Straight up murder him. William had left his demons in his teenage years in the past. She wasn’t about to let her husband go to jail. Besides, she wanted to be the one who hit Xander. On the other hand, Xander was already midway to celebrating his victory.

“William you're a lucky....”

Xander didn’t finish his despicable thought. Buffy reared up, slapping him hard enough to draw blood from his lip and knocking him back to the floor.

Probably saved his life, Buffy thought furiously. Bastard.

“I guess you got your answer,” Spike smirked, still wound up tight. Buffy still feared he would rush Xander and beat him to death. “There are limits to what money can buy.”

But Xander only laughed. Uproariously. He wiped the blood from his lips and nose.

“Guys,” he said, still laughing. “I was joking. I told you. I’m a kidder. I kid.”

Buffy and Spike exchanged a look, as if to say ‘Yeah right’

“We should be going,” Spike said, pulling Buffy close, who refused to look at Xander. “It’s late.”

“And I have a meeting in the morning,” Xander said, looking at his watch. “With your permission though? One dance?”

“I think you better got on to that meeting,” Buffy said, giving him a cold look. “Wouldn’t want to miss out on your next million.”

“Goodnight,” Xander said.

“Goodbye,” Buffy said.

Spike said nothing. The couple left the room hand in hand.

“Will?” Buffy asked, sitting up in bed, the next morning. “Last night?”

William nodded, looking out the window.

Buffy shook her head silently. She still couldn’t believe it. The shell shocked couple hadn’t spoken about it last night. In fact, they hadn’t said a word. Not when they were walking back back to the room. Not when they latched the room door behind them or when they were getting ready for bed. Or after they had crawled under the covers, falling asleep instantly in each others arms.

Son of a bitch, she thought. How could he think she would just. That they would just. Son of a bitch.

“I wanna go home,” Buffy said simply, her voice hoarse.

William nodded. An hour later, Xander Harris was informed in the middle of a business meeting that Buffy Summers and her husband had checked out of the hotel suite and were headed to the airport and catching a flight to Sunnydale.

Three months later….

“So what’s the big secret B?” Faith said, peering at her friend from across the table

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Buffy said, a look of intense concentration on her face as she surveyed the dessert menu.

Faith sighed. She wasn’t going to make this easy, was she?

“Oh come on,” Faith said. “You call me out of nowhere.”

“So?” Buffy said, a little too self consciously. “I can call.”

“It’s been ages,” Faith said, shaking her head. “And then….”

“And then?” Buffy challenged.

“You just sit there,” Faith exclaimed.

“Sitting’s a crime now?” Buffy asked dryly.

“The way you’re sitting,” Faith said acidly, her eyes
spelling out the B word loud and clear.

“And how am I sitting?” Buffy enquired.

“Like,” Faith said exasperated. “Like you’ve got a secret or something. Something you’re dying to tell someone about. And you just can’t.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Buffy mumbled.

“Hey!” the blonde protested as Faith snatched away her menu. “I was reading that….”

“No cake for you,” Faith waggled an accusing finger at her friend. “Until you spill.”

“It’s nothing,” Buffy sighed. “It’s stupid.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” Faith said. “Now spill.”

“Well,” Buffy began. “Will and I….we went to Atlantic city a while ago…and….something happened….”

Ten minutes later, Faith sat back, slumping in her chair.

“I need a piece of cake,” Faith confessed to Buffy, fanning herself, then signaling to the waiter. “Garcon?”

“Yes madame?” a handsome young waiter said.
“Chocolate cake,” Faith said. “For two. Chop-chop.”

Faith looked at Buffy. Her friend looked pretty deflated too.

“So I guess congratulations are in order?” Faith said.

“Hmmmm?” Buffy said, distractedly looking up. “What now?”

“Congratulations B,” Faith grinned. “Two million dollars. You hit the jackpot.”

Faith smirked when Buffy glared at her with that death of a thousand suns fury as the waiter brought them two scrumptious pieces of chocolate cake.

“I. Didn’t. Do. It,” Buffy growled through gritted teeth.
“Why not?” Faith said impishly, taking a bite. “Oh my god, this is so good. You’re totally paying for this right?”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed and Faith held up her hand to acknowledge she’d overstepped a boundary.

“Of course you didn’t do it,” Faith said assuringly. “I’m only kidding.”

“Shyeah,” Buffy said, shaking her head.

“I would have,” Faith confessed, off-handedly.

“You would not!” Buffy said heatedly.

“I totally would have,” Faith said, quickly typing on her phone. “This is the guy?”

Faith held up her screen for Buffy to see. It was a picture of Xander Harris, somewhere on vacation.

“I’m telling you B,” Faith whistled. “I totally would have. He’s rich and hot.”

“He’s a creep,” Buffy said. “It was disgusting. The way he thought he could just buy me.”

“What if you were single?” Faith challenged.

“I’m not single,” Buffy said pointedly, holding up her ring finger.

“What if,” Faith said rolling her eyes.

“No,” Buffy said. “Not a chance.”

“What if he never made the offer?” Faith pondered.

“But he did,” Buffy said indignantly.

“You’re telling me that if you were single and you just happened to run into Mr Good-looking moneybags, nothing would happen?”

Faith saw the tiniest flicker of indecision on Buffy’s face, before the blonde put on a firm, unyielding
expression.

“Nothing would happen,” Buffy said playing with her
chocolate cake. “Ever.”

“If you say so,” Faith said.


Three months later…..

William looked up from his tiny workdesk on hearing his name called.

“Will,” a brunette with a Texan accent beckoned frantically. “We’re all wanted in the conference room.”

William struggled to put a name to the button cute woman. He’d seen her around sure. Sheila? Sara? Susan?

“Be right there,” he waved back, quickly organizing his papers into various stacks. William adjusted his shirt and tie, then walked at a steady pace to conference room 1, by far the largest and most spacious one in the offices of Mcann-Stevenson. He opened the door to find the conference room nearly bursting with bodies.

“Is everybody here?” he heard one of the Senior partners say. Another one chimed in, “Well near enough. Get on with it Philip”

Philip Mcann, the founder of Mcann-Stevenson had a pensive look on his face.

“As you all know,” he began. “There have been rumours of a merger with the lawfirm GCP.”

William frowned. A merger with GCP? This was news to him. William looked around to see the same confusion on most, if not all the faces around him.

“An offer has been made,” Philip continued. “A generous offer. One….one the senior partners have since approved.”

A deathly hush came over the crowd.

“What does that mean?” a woman in the crowd asked.

“It means that GCP will acquire all our clients….and some of our talent,” Philip Mcann said, a pained look on his face.

“I don’t understand,” the brunette that had beckoned William to the office confided.

“It means,” William said softly. “We’re all fired.”

And with that, he turned and walked out of the conference room. William undid his tie, threw it near the nearest trash can, collected his papers and walked out.

Three months later……….

“The money’s gone,” William said quietly.

Buffy said nothing. They were sitting at the kitchen table, sparsely picking at their dinner. She didn’t need to ask how. She knew. The last three months had been unlike any other of her young life. First, William’s lawfirm had ‘merged’ with a much bigger one. Most of the staff had been laid off, including Will.

Then, the stock market had completely tanked, wiping out all their investments in one fair swoop. And their savings? That had been ravaged by the money pit that was her mother’s museum. Once it had seemed like a frivolous expense, something to keep her mother’s precious memories alive, but now it was the mill around their necks, dragging them down to debt and ruin.

“How much time do we have?” Buffy asked, finally.

“A month,” William replied. “Maybe two.”

God, I can’t even look at her. I’m such a failure.

“It’s okay,” Buffy said, reaching out to touch his hand. “We’ll get through this. Together. Like we always have.”

“We have to sell everything,” William said. “The house. The car. All of it.”

“For richer and poorer eh,” Buffy smiled weakly. “Can I get a mulligan on that one?”

The lame joke failed to get even a hint of a smile out of William.

“The museum too,” William said.

The words sent a knife straight through Buffy’s heart. Her mom’s art museum. The one she’d spent countless hours at growing up. The one that had given Buffy her love of art. The one her mother had promised her to take good care of on her deathbed. Buffy knew William would never have brought it up unless he had to, but Buffy’s emotions got the better of her.

“How can you say that?” Buffy said, angrily, furiously wiping a tear from her eye. Buffy picked up her dinner and threw the plate in the sink, wincing at the crash. Still she leaned over the sink, looking out at her garden.

“We don’t have a choice Buffy,” William said, his voice deathly calm.

“It’ll turn around,” Buffy said. “I swear.”

One good month, Buffy thought despairingly. That’s enough to buy us some time. Just one.

Two months later…..

Buffy sat in her tiny office in her mom’s museum, trying not to despair. She’d been calling her contacts in the art world all day, trying to get rid of her stock. William was meeting a bankruptcy lawyer, hoping to try to extricate them from this situation. Buffy felt a spasm of guilt run through her.

It’s my fault too, Buffy thought, looking around. Things were bad, but we could have made it. If it wasn’t for this place. If I wasn’t so stubborn.

Buffy, desperate from some distraction turned on the Tv. She glanced at her cellphone from time to time, hoping her husband would call her with some good news. But he didn’t. Buffy stared at the flickering screen with vacant eyes until she reached MTV. Buffy sat back in her chair and closed her eyes, and just listened to some songs. Buffy didn’t know when she passed out or for how long, but when she awoke the sky was dark outside and the a commercial was playing.

“Welcome back to Cribs,” the host said. “Today we’re at the 20 million dollar beach side home of Casino billionaire Xander Harris.”

The name only half registered with Buffy. It was his voice that froze her.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” Xander said, smiling at the camera.

And then Buffy could hear his voice in her head again. Two million dollars. For one night with you.
Buffy’s hands trembled as she picked up the remote. She stared at the screen for an instant before she turned it off, throwing the remote away in disgust.

Disgust as she remembered what the billionaire had proposed, but also at the revolting thought that had come to her, unwanted and unbidden.

It would solve everything.

That night, as they lay in bed together, Buffy found herself turning the channel to MTV. That thought had haunted her all evening. While she’d driven home, parked the car, done the dishes and made dinner. Buffy knew it was partly her fault that they were in this mess. The guilt was eating her up. She’d burdened them when they were most vulnerable. Now part of her yearned to help get them out of it, as the other part told her how disgusting she was for even considering it.

It would solve everything.

Buffy curled up. She knew Cribs would be back from commercial in a minute.

What am I doing? she thought. This is crazy. It would solve everything. You’re disgusting. It would solve everything. We could keep everything, the museum, the house, the car. We’d never have to worry about money again. You’re disgusting.

“Welcome back to Cribs,” she heard the host say “Today we’re at the 20 million dollar beach side home of Casino billionaire Xander Harris.”

Buffy glanced at William. He never looked up from his book.

“Will,” Buffy whispered.

God, what am I doing?

“Hmmm?” he replied distractedly, looking up at her.

Her eyes were fixed on the telly. William looked at the Tv, confused. They were taking a tour of some rich bloke’s mansion. So what?

“Luv?” he said softly. Buffy never replied, her eyes transfixed to the Tv. Her eyes looked sad. Haunted.

William glanced back at the Tv again. Xander
Harris’s smiling face flashed across the screen. William froze.

Him. All these months later, he’d been the conversation they’d avoided having. It had been their silent pact. And now here he was, showing up at their most vulnerable time?

William picked up the remote and turned the TV off, leaving them mostly in darkness. The memory of that day was seared into both their brains. Not even once. William felt dirty suddenly, as if he needed a shower. Quickly he got up, tossing the book aside, then took two steps towards the bathroom.

“Will,” she said, her use of his name stopping him in his tracks.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly.

“Can,” Buffy swallowed heavily, trying to breathe. God, she couldn’t believe she was doing this. Saying this. This was the hardest thing she’d ever have to say.

“Can we at least talk about it?”

She heard the breath go out of him, felt as if she’d slipped a knife between his ribs and stabbed upwards. She could feel his brain work out that this was no coincidence. He knew that she’d planned this somehow. He knew. And now Buffy felt the searing pain herself.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said gruffly. Buffy winced when she heard the door slam with a fury, heard the shower turn on. Buffy curled up to one side, listening to the water running, felt hot salty tears run down her face.

She didn’t know how late it was when he finally came back to bed. It had been hours, for sure. He faced away from her, denying her the warmth and comfort of his arms. Buffy knew he was beyond angry with her.

“It wouldn’t mean anything,” Buffy said hesitantly.

William said nothing, but she could feel his body tense, his breathing get heavy with rage. Rage at her, for even daring to suggest such a thing. Anger at himself for, in his mind, failing them.

“It’s not my heart,” Buffy said, touching his shoulder.
“Not my soul.”

He refused to respond. Buffy waited, looking at him for a long time before her drowsy eyes closed and she fell asleep. When she awoke he was gone and she was alone.

Buffy waited for William all day. The sun rose high in the sky and then fell beyond the horizon. The streets darkened and the kids in the neighbourhood abandoned their games for the comfort of home, but he didn’t return. Buffy knew better than to call him.

She knew he’d want to be alone. Finally, she went upstairs, lay on their bed and stared at the ceiling.
When she awoke it was pitch black. She glanced at the alarm clock. It was 4am. She heard the door open, the footsteps heavy on their steps. Buffy steeled herself as the door opened.

“Hi,” she whispered. Her husband just stared at her.

“Will,” she began.

“Still here are you?” William interrupted. Buffy winced at the hurt in his voice, the bitterness and anger. Buffy noticed how his eloquent tongue was stumbling over his words. He was blind stinking drunk.

“Where else would I be?” she whispered, standing up and coming closer to him.

“Thought you might have run off,” he said bitterly.
“Cashing in that two million dollar lottery ticket you have between your legs.”

Suddenly furious, Buffy hauled off and slapped him across the cheek. Hard enough for her hand to sting.

“How dare you say that,” she raged. “I would never…..”

“No?” William taunted. “Wouldn’t you? Never?”

“That,” Buffy said, trying to hold back her tears. “That’s different.”

William laughed then. An empty hollow laugh.

“Right,” he said. “Keep telling yourself that Summers. You just keep telling yourself that and maybe someday you’ll believe it.”

“You know it is,” Buffy pleaded. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Let me tell you what it looks like,” William said, hysteria creeping into his voice. “Girl meets bloke. Bloke takes care of girl. The world is sunshine and flowers and puppies.”

“Stop,” Buffy whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Please.”

“Then the girl meets a much much much richer bloke. And when the sunshine is gone, the flowers are wilted and the puppies are dead, the girl chooses a much richer bloke,” William finished. “Am I close?”

“Don’t say that,” Buffy said, her voice breaking. “I’m not choosing him over you.”

“But you are,” William said, his eyes filled with tears. “You’re choosing him. Aren’t you?”

“For one night,” Buffy said, trying to make him understand. “A night that’ll come and go, but the money will last us a lifetime.”

“Sod the money,” William said stubbornly. “You’re not bloody well whoring yourself out.”

“We’re drowning Will,” Buffy begged. “Our house. Mom’s museum. We’re drowning. And I can save us.”

“It’s only things,” William said, grabbing a lamp. He threw it against the wall, and Buffy ducked as shards scattered everwhere. “It’s only bloody things Buffy. It’s not us.”

“It’s not only things,” Buffy screamed. “This is us. Mom’s museum is all I have left of her. Our house. We've built a life here. This is our life. I don’t want to lose our life.”

“And I don’t want to lose you,” William seethed. “Don’t you bloody understand? It’ll be the end of us.”

“Is my body the only thing you care about?” she added, bitterly. “The only thing you love?”

“How can you even say that?” he said, looking for all the world as if she’d hit him again. Exhausted now,
William slumped down into the corner of the bed.

Buffy approached him as she would a hand grenade.

“It wouldn’t mean anything,” she said softly, touching his shoulder. William turned his head away from her.

She knew he was crying. That he blamed himself.

“It’s not my heart Will,” Buffy whispered, touching his cheek, making him face her. “It’s not my soul. You’ll always have those.”

“Promise me,” William said, his voice heavy from drink, his eyes nearly closing. “That you’ll always be mine.”

God, Buffy thought. He sounded exhausted.

“I promise,” she soothed, as she brought his face down to her neck, then lay his body down.

“Will?” she said softly.

“I’ll always be yours,” she promised his sleeping form. “Always.”

When William awoke, he had a splitting headache.

“Hey,” he heard his wife say.

“Hey,’ he rasped. William looked around. The bedroom was askew, the covers thrown off, the paintings tilted, the remains of their night lamp scatterd on the floor.

And then last night came flooding back to him. The fight. The words he’d said. The way he’d behaved.

“Buffy,” he began.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, touching his chest, then resting her head against him. “It’s all okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said finally.

“I’m sorry too,” Buffy said as he stroked her back with his fingers. Finally she looked up at him, cupping his chin in her hands.

“And thank you,” she said. Buffy planted a gentle kiss on his mouth, then turned away to begin cleaning up
the mess.

“For what?” William frowned.

“For last night,” Buffy said, looking back at him. He saw her search herself for the words. “For….for understanding.”

“Understanding?” William said.

“For understanding what I have to do,” Buffy said. “For saying….yes.”

William felt his heart stop. Yes? I said yes? No, that’s impossible. I would never say yes to that. Never. His eyes widened. He tried to rack his memory of last night. God, everything was so hazy.

William opened his mouth to argue, but then froze.
Did I say yes? God, could I have said yes? I was so drunk. No, I couldn’t have. William looked into Buffy’s eyes. She wouldn’t lie to him about this, would she? Not about this?

“I said yes?” William whispered. Buffy gave him just the hint of a nod, then turned around and bit her lip.

Guilt flooded her about the lie she’d just told. Buffy knew William would never agree to this. Not a million years. But she had to do this. For them.

He didn’t say no, Buffy reasoned with herself. That’s kind of a yes.

“We both agreed,” Buffy continued, keeping her voice carefully steady, as if she were discussing the weather. “We’ve slept with other people. We’d just
have to think of it that way.”

Finally, she turned back to look at him, having gained control of her emotions.

“Are we okay Will?” she asked. She could see the confusion and hurt writ large on his face, but also a desperation to get things back to normal.

“Yeah,” he rasped finally. “We’re okay.”

“I love you,” she said.

I’m sorry William. I’m so sorry.

“Yeah,” he said, looking away and sliding his legs over the side of the bed. Buffy waited for him to say it, but then accepted her fate. She got to her feet and lingered at the door, looking back. His shoulders were slumped and defeated. He was staring out the window with glazed eyes.

It’s just one night, Buffy reasoned with herself. We’ll move past it. And then we never have to worry about anything again. But a small part of her worried she’d just made a fatal mistake.

Two weeks later…
Buffy sat in front of her laptop, her fingers poised over the keyboard. William was gone all day, applying to different law firms. Neither of them had spoken about it, eager to pretend it never happened, but there had been a strained aspect to their relationship. Buffy had been busy making calls, trying to offload most of her art collection and rent out the space, but she’d had no luck. She’d put it off as much as she could in the hopes that something would change, but things had only gotten more dire.
I have to do this, Buffy thought, taking a deep breath. For us. For our life.
And then she Googled the hotel she and William had stayed at in Atlantic City. Buffy picked up her cellphone and dialed the hotel. She tried to keep her breathing steady as the phone rang. And rang. And rang.
“Welcome to the Haven resort,” a pleasant voice said. “This is Thomas the concierge, how may I assist you?”
Buffy tried to speak. Only a croak emerged.
“Hello?” the voice said on the other end. “Hello?”
“Hi,” Buffy managed, her voice high and unnatural. “I uh…..uhm.”
“How may I assist you madam?”
Buffy didn’t know what to say. How could she even begin to explain.
“I…….I’d like to leave a message,” she managed. “My name is Buffy Summers.”
“Ah,” she heard him say. “Very good Ms Summers. For what room number?”
Buffy thought about it. The room number? What was it?
“The presidential suite,” she remembered suddenly.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” Thomas said smoothly. “The presidential suite is empty. And when it is occupied, it is reserved for…..an exclusive party. No messages, in or out. No disturbances.”
Buffy tried not to panick.
“The message is for Xander,” Buffy managed to say.
Even over the phone, she could tell she had managed to shock the seemingly unflappable employee.
“Just,” Buffy began. “Just tell him….”
What? Tell him what? How could I possibly explain this to a stranger.
Buffy closed her eyes. Think Buffy, think.
“Ask him if he’d like to bet two million dollars,” Buffy said, her voice shaking a little. “On Red 17. Trust me. If you want to keep your job, you need to deliver this message.”
And before the man could question her further, Buffy disconnected the call.
Thomas looked at the phone in his hand. Two million dollars? On Red 17? Losing my job?
The concierge shook his head and swatted the thought away. Some crazy person, that’s all it is. But as he went through the day, Thomas’s mind kept returning to that phonecall.
Two million dollars? On Red 17?
It sounded like a message. Like some sort of code.
Thomas thought about it. He’d been at this hotel for five years and he’d only met Mr Harris a couple of times in passing. The man had been nothing but affable, if a little demanding, but that was to be expected. And on the off chance that he could lose his job? He had a wife and three kids to support. He couldn’t take that chance. And what was the harm if it was a joke or some crazy person anyway? Thomas knew there was no way he could ever get straight in touch with Mr Harris, but his assistant Willow on the other hand…..
“What’s Red 17?”
Xander looked up. His assistant cum best friend Willow was hovering over his desk in his office in NYC, looking as if she wanted to smack the crap out of him.
“Excuse me?” he said.
“Some crazy lady left a message with the concierge in Atlantic City,” Willow said, holding up a scrap of paper in her hands.
“Two million dollars on Red 17?” Willow said. “Ring any bells?”
Willow could see a flicker of recognition in Xander’s eyes.
“What have you done?” Willow said, glaring at him. “Please tell me you haven’t done anything dumb. I’m getting tired of paying TMZ.”
“What was her name?” Xander said, stretching out his hand for the paper.
“Answer me,” Willow said.
“Give it to me,” Xander said, annoyed.
“Or what?” Willow dared him.
“Or you’re fired,” Xander said.
“I’ll need that in writing,” Willow said gleefully, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. “I think I’ll do something a lot more relaxing. Maybe take a job assembling Iphones in China. Or maybe I’ll pick fruit in California.”
“Fine,” Xander grumbled. “I’d fall apart without you. You’re the best. Just give me the goddamn paper.”
Willow shook her head, then placed the tiny scrap in his hand. She saw Xander examine it.
“Red 17,” Xander whispered, a small smile spreading over his face.
What did you do Xander? Willow thought, shaking her head. What the hell did you do?
Buffy was getting antsy. It had been nearly a week since she’d left the message for Xander, but so far there had been no reply. She considered picking up the phone and trying again, but she didn’t want to come off as…..
Desperate, Buffy thought wretchedly. That’s exactly what I am.
Sometimes Buffy couldn’t believe she was actually considering doing this. Even to her it seemed crazy. She’d get angry with herself, before she remembered she was a bad month away from being destitute. Then she would feel sad, as she remembered the young naïve girl she was and what she imagined her life would be like.
And William would hardly ever look at her anymore, much less touch her. She knew he was still angry with her, even though his fury wasn’t burning hot. Maybe he hoped she’d changed her mind about going through with it. Whatever the case, they hadn’t even come close to broaching the subject. But Buffy had decided she’d broach that bridge when she came to it. Meanwhile, William had got several call backs. Nothing concrete, but hope was eternal.
Then Buffy was forced to consider the fact that Xander probably didn’t even remember her. Maybe he just went around making offers to buy women.
What a shock, Buffy thought. The creep.
Finally, in the middle of dinner, Buffy received a phonecall. William glanced at her only half interested, then got back to his meal.
“Hi Ms Summers,” a chirpy voice said. “I’m Fred, Mr Harris’s attorney. I got your number from our guest records. You left a message for Mr Harris?”
“Yes,” Buffy said, trying not to betray the anxiety in her voice.
“Mr Harris would like to discuss things,” Fred said. “I’ll be arriving in Sunnydale in the afternoon. Could you make it to the Hilton tomorrow at 4?”
“Sure,” Buffy said, glancing nervously at William.
“And Ms Summers?” Fred said gently. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but you should probably bring your own lawyer.”
“Okay,” Buffy swallowed. “Bye.”
Buffy hung up the phone and sat down, beginning her dinner.
“Who was it?” William asked, as he folded the paper.
“A buyer for some museum art,” Buffy said, shocked at how easily the lie slipped off the tongue. The slightest hint of a smile flashed across William’s face and Buffy felt another stab of searing pain pierce her heart.
The next day, Buffy found Fred in the hotel lobby. She took an instant liking to the cute as a button brunette and wondered why Xander had sent this sweet girl to be his henchman.
“Did you bring a lawyer?” Fred asked.
“She’ll be here,” Buffy nodded, looking around nervously as if she was afraid of being recognized.
“I’ve reserved the conference room,” Fred said, gently touching Buffy’s shoulder. “We’ll have the utmost privacy.”
Buffy nodded, her cheeks flushing with shame. But there was no judgement in Fred’s eyes, only the deepest sympathy and understanding. Buffy could sense that Fred was a good person, who was just doing her job.
Just then, Buffy spotted the only person she could trust with something like this.
“Hey B,” Faith grinned. “I’m so glad you called. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“Shall we?” Fred said, a little too chirpily for Buffy’s liking.
“Go ahead,” Buffy said. “We’ll catch up in a bit.”
“Take your time,” Fred said, giving Buffy a reassuring smile.
Faith watched Fred go, then frowned at Buffy.
“Okay,” Faith said. “Game’s over Buffy. Haha. You got me good.”
Buffy didn’t reply.
“Buffy,” Faith said. “This is a joke right? Please tell me this….”
“I,” Buffy said. “I need your help Faith. I have no one else to turn to.”
“Buffy,” Faith said. “You can’t do this. This isn’t you.”
“I need the money,” Buffy said sadly.
“Buffy,” Faith said shaking her head.
“Don’t judge me okay,” Buffy said, angrily swiping a tear away from her cheek. “You don’t understand. You have no idea.”
“Shhh,” Faith said, pulling her in for a hug. “Buffy….”
“Please Faith,” Buffy said. “I need your help.”
“Are you,” Faith began. “Sure about this?”
No, Buffy thought.
“Yes,” she said.
“Then I’m here for you,” Faith said. “No judgement okay.”
“Thank you,” Buffy said, as Faith wiped Buffy’s tears away.
“Wanna hear a secret?” Faith said. Buffy nodded.
“I’d do it for free,” Faith said. “That man is hot.”
“Shut up,” Buffy said, trying not to laugh.
“Let’s go,” Faith said, locking her arm with Buffy.
The women settled onto opposite sides of the ridiculously large conference table.
“So,” Buffy began. “How does this work?”
“Well,” Fred said. “We’d need to draw up a legal contract. I’ve established a framework.”
And with that Fred pushed a small binder across the table. Faith snapped it up and began reading it under her breath.
“May I have a moment with my client?” Faith said, taking Buffy by the elbow.
“Of course,” Fred said. “Take your time.”
“What is it?” Buffy said, as Faith led her to a corner.
“Two million dollars?” Faith said. “That’s kind of low.”
“Faith,” Buffy hissed. “I’m not haggling like…..”
Like some common whore, Buffy thought. But that’s exactly what you are, her brain hissed.
“B,” Faith said, “you’re a total fox. I’m your lawyer. I got this.”
Buffy shook her head in disbelief, exhaled heavily, then followed Faith back to the table. Fred looked at them inquisitively.
“Two million dollars is….” Faith said, as Buffy looked away, squirming uncomfortably. “Insulting.”
Oh god, Buffy thought. I could die.
“I see,” Fred said as he phone pinged. “Would you excuse me one second?”
Fred pulled out her phone and texted something. In a moment, her phone ‘pinged’ back instantly.
“Oh,” Fred said.
“What does that mean?” Faith raised an eyebrow.
The door opened behind them. And in walked Xander Harris with a smug, confident smile on his face.
“Hello Buffy,” he said.
Buffy’s eyes widened in shock, then hardened.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she hissed.
“Xander,” Fred interrupted, looking angrily at him, then giving Buffy an apologetic look. “What are you doing here?”
“I was just in the neighbourhood,” Xander smirked, planting a chaste, affectionate kiss on Fred’s cheek.
Oh this is priceless.
“Yeah,” Buffy said, shooting a withering look at Xander. “Right. You just happened to be in the neighbourhood. Sunnydale, out in the middle of nowhere.”
Buffy looked at Faith as if to say, ‘Can you believe this guy?’ But Faith was a little distracted, giving Xander a flirtatious smile. Buffy incensed by her friend’s act, gave her a sharp elbow in the side, making Faith wince.
“Focus,” Buffy whispered, gritting her teeth.
“He’s fine B,” Faith whispered back. “I’d do him for a six pack and a hearty handshake.”
“I really was just passing by Buffy,” Xander said earnestly, trying to catch her eye. “I wasn’t trying to….”
“To rub it in?” Buffy said bitterly. “Of course not. You’re way too classy for that.”
“Would you like me to?” Xander said, dropping his voice a little. “Rub it in, I mean.”
Buffy saw the gleam in his eye and knew exactly what he was thinking. And then Buffy was thinking about it too, and he knew she was thinking about it. And it was sending a hateful shiver down her spine.
You’re disgusting, her eyes told him.
“Can we get back to the business at hand?” Fred interjected, giving Xander a look which said, get out please. A look that Xander pointedly ignored.
“So where were we?” Xander said.
“Two million is a bit low,” Faith said.
“Is it?” Xander smiled. “Did you have a number in mind?”
“Do you?” Faith proposed.
Xander stroked his chin.
“Six point nine million,” he said. Buffy and Fred furried their brows as Faith coughed to avoid laughing.
You’re a bad bad boy, Faith thought.
“How about an even 10?” Faith suggested.
“Done,” Xander said. “But for the entire weekend.”
Buffy blanched. The entire weekend? She didn’t know how to feel about that. But ten million dollars. It was more money than she could imagine. More money than they would know what to do with. Will, she thought again. Just the thought of what she was doing was driving a nail of guilt deep down inside her.
“Shall we move on to some other stuff?” Fred said, assuming the terms were agreed upon. “We have to define certain things.”
Faith looked at Buffy who lowered her eyes in assent.
“Like what?” Faith asked.
“For example,” Fred began delicately, addressing Buffy. “When would you consider intercourse to be had?”
“Anal,” Faith said, examining her nails. “Wait did I say that out loud?”
“I think you should leave Xander,” Fred said, as Buffy looked away uncomfortably. “I can reach you by phone if I need anything.”
Fred gave Xander a look which dared him to contradict her, after which he held up his hands and got up from the table.
“Excuse me ladies,” he said, adjusting his five thousand dollar tie.
Fred watched the door close, then sighed.
“Buffy?” Fred continued. “Are you okay to go on?”
Buffy nodded.
“So as I was saying,” Fred continued, in a small voice. “When do you consider intercourse to have taken place?”
“Why is that important?” Buffy said. “Everyone knows what…it means.”
“Just so both parties agree on what exactly they’re agreeing to,” Fred explained gently. Buffy opened her mouth to respond, then just gaped at Fred, looking lost.
“It’s okay B,” Faith said, rubbing her shoulder. “It’s just us here.”
“Sex,” Buffy said, dropping her voice, her cheeks burning with shame. “It’s like…..you know……”
“Sex,” she finished tamely.
Fred gave Buffy a nod, then picked up her phone, exchanging a few more texts with Xander.
“I think we can agree upon,” Fred said finally, looking back at them. It looked as if it was causing her pain to say the words. “Intercourse is only said to have taken place when both parties have…..engaged in the normal act of heterosexual intercourse, which by its very nature can potentially result in the contraception of a child.”
Buffy found herself aghast. She knew what she would be doing of course, but still. The bluntness of the words, coupled with the matter of fact tone of the voice shocked her. Faith saw Buffy’s discomfort and touched her arm.
“Maybe we should take a break,” Faith said, giving Fred a sideways look.
Fred and Faith shared an understanding look. Fred nodded, then left the conference room without making a sound.
When they reconvened a half hour later, Buffy had calmed down somewhat, though still a bit dazed. Faith looked grim and Fred was officially beginning to hate her life.
“So,” Fred began. “What I meant to say was….we would define intercourse as the act between a man and a woman that could….”
And Fred let the word hang in the air, for emphasis. Buffy looked wild eyed again, but Faith touched her hand and calmed her down.
“Could result in a child,” Fred finished. “It’s legally defined as such just to let both parties know we’re talking about the same act. The only act that could possibly conceive a child.”
Buffy’s breathing became faster again, as the possibility of that terrified her mind.
“But it won’t,” Faith said, determinedly, her eyes daring Fred to contradict her.
“Definitely not,” Fred said, nodding her head. “I assure you….”
“I’m going to need that in writing,” Faith said.
“It already is,” Fred said, marking a section in the contract and drawing Faith’s attention to it.
“What?” Buffy said, looking down at the legalese and feeling utterly lost.
“Condoms,” Faith explained quietly. “And birth control. It’s….a legal requirement.”
No love without the glove, Faith quipped mentally. God I’m such a bitch.
“Oh,” Buffy said, looking around, then retreating to within herself. “Okay.”
“But,” Fred began, prompting a warning look from Faith that said ‘tread lightly’. “If….something was……conceived as a result of…..”
“Relations,” Fred gulped.
Buffy found herself growing ill at the very thought.
Fred continued, her demeanour slightly uncomfortable. “There’s a clause within this document that would absolve my client of any legal or monetary…”
“Wait a goddamn minute,” Faith interjected heatedly. “She gets pregnant and he bears no responsibility?”
Faith voicing that thought seemed to rouse Buffy from her trance like status.
“I am not going to get pregnant,” Buffy hissed, shutting her eyes to block out the horror of the thought.
“Of course not,” Faith soothed. “I’m just saying B…..”
“It is not going to happen Faith,” Buffy said, through gritted teeth.
“Buffy,” Faith said, shaking her head. “Listen to me….”
“Look,” Fred said. “If you sign this….”
“In any….situation,” Fred said pointedly, making air-quotes to avoid using the A word. “You get to decide, of course. The advantage to you is that my client would have no legal rights to pursue you in the future. He is waiving his rights in perpetuity. In exchange for you waiving his fiduciary responsibility towards any offspring.”
“In English please,” Buffy said, rubbing her head to soothe the oncoming headache.
“If you have a kid,” Faith said. “He has no rights. At all. You never have to see him again. But you don’t get any money from him either.”
“Yeah,” Buffy gave a hollow, bitter laugh. “Because I’m just dying to have his kid.”
“And the money?” Faith asked quietly.
“The moment she signs the contract,” Fred said. “All she has to do is sign. The money will be deposited into an account of her choosing today.”
Fred got another message on her phone. And another. And another.
“One last thing,” Fred said nervously, as she pulled out her pad and began writing. And writing. And writing. Finally, she tossed the pad across the table and Faith snapped it up. Faith looked at the page sharply, then raised a brow at the brunette.
“These are the….ummm….activities,” Fred said, blushing profusely as Buffy looked confused.
“That you and my client would be…..engaging in…..during the course of the evening in question.”
What? Buffy blinked. Activities? What was she….
And then it hit Buffy with all the force of a ten ton truck. Activities Buffy thought. Oh god. Of course he would want to do…activities
He made a list, Buffy thought, screwing up her face. The sick son of a bitch. He made a list. What kind of man….
“Buffy,” Faith said, looking up and down the list. “You wanna...”
“No,” Buffy said, standing as if she was burnt, and then walking to the corner and turning her face away. “Just….handle it Faith. God.”
“Well,” Faith said, looking the list up and down. “Number two is out. Good luck hitting number 5. Six is a no fly area. Seven? Yeah, dream on. And number 9 is definitely…”
“Faith,” Buffy growled. “Do you mind.”
“Sorry B,” Faith said apologetically, then continued to read the list in her mind.
“I’m sorry,” Fred said, delicately. “I may have misstated my position.”
“Excuse me?” Faith said, her voice sharp now, as she glanced at Buffy, who had suddenly gone very still.
“My client,” Fred said, pointing to the notepad, trying to retain her composure. “Wasn’t asking……he was….”
“What?” Buffy whispered.
Buffy just knew things were about to get worse. Much much worse.
“He was…..informing,” Fred managed to say. “Informing you…that if you sign this document….you would be consenting to participating in these activities during the course of the evening.”
Faith’s jaw dropped. Buffy looked as if she’d been hit by a grenade. No-one spoke.
“Let’s go B,” Faith said finally, rising and then taking Buffy by the arm. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go through with….this.”
“Wait,” Fred said, her voice tiny and small. “You can still say no.”
“What?” Buffy croaked.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Faith challenged Fred.
“Paragraph eight. Clause seven. Before each….act….my client would need to obtain verbal consent.”
“You would have to say yes,” Fred explained to Buffy.
“And how the hell are we going to enforce that?” Faith said, her eyes full of fire.
“We would record the audio of the…..proceedings,” Fred said. “No video. Let me make that clear.”
“What?” Buffy said horrified. “No. Absolutely not.”
“No-one would ever hear it,” Fred promised. “It goes to a private arbiter who would sign a non-disclosure agreement. And it would only be heard in case of a legal action. Otherwise it never sees the light of day.”
“But what if….” Buffy said frantically, her mind racing with a million thoughts. “What if someone got their hands on this tape?”
“It would be in my client’s best interest to keep that from happening,” Fred said. “The damage to his reputation alone would costs millions of dollars. Plus he would open himself up from a ten figure lawsuit from you. Believe me, the tape stays with a private neutral arbiter.”
“Faith?” Buffy asked. Faith took her arm, then dragged her to the corner.
“Are you sure about this?” Faith asked.
“I don’t have a choice,” Buffy said miserably.
“It’s the best we can do,” Faith said, taking a deep breath. “At least this way you’re protected. And you get to stay in control.”
Sort of, Faith thought.
Buffy nodded, as if giving herself a mental talk. Faith saw a determined look cross her friend’s face. Buffy walked across the room, picked up the pen and with a shaky hand, began signing the papers. Fred turned away, giving Buffy some privacy noting Buffy’s heavy breath. Fred heard the papers rustle as Faith pointed out where Buffy needed to sign. And then Fred heard Buffy walk out of the room, never once looking back.
“I need a drink,” Faith said. “I hate my life sometimes.”
“Me too,” Fred replied quietly. “I’m buying.”
That evening...
Buffy shut the door to her house behind her. The lights were off. The house seemed empty.
“Will?” she whispered, looking around. He still wasn’t home. Buffy let out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. She felt relief for a moment, that she didn’t have to face him. Then the guilt hit her in spasms and waves. Crushing overwhelming guilt.
I lied to him, Buffy thought. I told him he said yes. And today…
“I had no choice,” she whispered to herself, trying to make herself believe it. Do I really believe that? Buffy didn’t know what she believed anymore. All she knew is that she couldn’t lose their house. Her mother’s museum. She didn’t want to lose the life they’d built together.
He’ll understand, Buffy thought. He knows it’s just….
The sound of her cellphone interrupted her thoughts.
“Hello,” Buffy said hesitantly.
“Ms Summers?” an elegantly clipped voice said. “Buffy Summers?”
“Mrs Summers,” Buffy corrected.
“My apologies,” she heard the man say. Buffy placed his accent as British.
“My name is Wesley Pryce,” the smooth, even voice said. “I’m Mr Harris’s private banker. I’m calling about the money.”
“The….the money?” Buffy said.
“Indeed,” Wesley said. “The 10 million dollars. I handle all the high value accounts.”
“Oh,” Buffy said simply.
“May I have the account number?” Wesley said, after a short silence.
“Uhm,” Buffy said, opening up her purse. “Sure. Could you hold on a minute?”
Buffy looked for the scrap of paper she’d stowed away. With unsteady hands she read out the 10 digits, an old joined account they’d opened when they’d first gotten married.
That’ll give me a few days, Buffy thought. To break the news to William. To make him understand. Buffy felt another spasm of guilt and shock, as the enormity of what she had done, no what she was about to do, began to dawn on her. But she knew it was too late. She’d already signed the papers and that posh British voice was telling her the money had been transferred and that she would be receiving a call from her bank to confirm the details very shortly.
“Congratulations Mrs Summers,” Wesley said.
“T…Thank you,” Buffy managed to say, before hanging up the phone.
A few minutes later, Buffy received a confirmation call from one very perplexed, but solicitious Bank manager in Sunnydale, confirming the deposit made in her account and congratulating her and her husband profusely. Buffy barely heard his voice, lost as she was in her own head. He was saying something about investment avenues and how to avoid paying taxes on her sudden windfall.
“I can’t do this right now,” Buffy said, sitting down on her sofa, rubbing her temples. “I….I’ll call you okay.”
“Very good Mrs Summers,” she heard as she disconnected the call.
That evening, Buffy logged on to her bank’s website and into her account. And there it was. 10,000,000 dollars. She stared at the screen blankly. She felt not an ounce of joy, just an empty heavy feeling.
“Lo?” she heard him say. “Buffy?”
Buffy quickly shut off her laptop and slammed the screen shut, trying to keep from looking too guilty. And then William was poking his head into the kitchen door.
“Hey,” he said simply.
“Hi,” she said, giving him a comforting smile.
“No luck,” William said.
“That’s okay,” Buffy said softly. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“Yeah,” William said, dropping his gaze, walking to their table and placing his briefcase on the chair, before removing his coat and hat. “Just a matter of time.”
God, Buffy thought. He sounded so….broken. Like it was killing him to let her down. To be less than what he could be. For in his mind, failing her. In a moment, Buffy flung herself to her feet and threw her arms around him. Buffy saw the surprise in his eyes and felt even worse than she did before. Since their big blowout fight, they hadn’t so much as touched. They’d shared the same bed and the same house, but not intimacy. Only then did Buffy realize how much she’d missed his touch.
“I love you,” she said, as she gently kissed him. “Tell me you love me.”
“You know I do,” he said, as she led him upstairs and into their bedroom.
Later, as they lay in bed, side by side, William kissed her forehead.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?” Buffy said, stroking his chest and rubbing her cheek against him.
“For believing in me,” William said. “For believing in us.”
And Buffy realized what he was trying to say.
Oh god, Buffy thought. I have to tell him.
Buffy opened her mouth, but didn’t recognize the words that left her mouth.
“You’re welcome,” she said, placing her head against his chest. William’s lips curved up into a soft smile as Buffy stared at a fixed point on the wall, wondering what in the world she was going to do.
A few days later….
Buffy was on a knife’s edge. Faith had called, telling Buffy she’d received a call from Fred, saying she needed to get herself ‘tested.’
“When?” Buffy said, glancing nervously at the upstairs bedroom. William was in his study, reading.
“I don’t know,” Faith said. “Soon. Fred said soon.”
And Buffy knew she was running out of time to break the news to William.
That evening….
“Would you hate me?” Buffy asked suddenly as she prepared dinner.
“Hmmm?” William said, looking up from his newspaper.
“If I took up the offer,” Buffy said, her voice trembling a little. “Would you hate me?”
“I….” William said, his voice suddenly weary, his body tense. “I don’t want to discuss it.”
“We’re just….talking,” Buffy said, looking away so he wouldn’t see the guilt in her eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Then let’s not,” William said, his voice harsh.
“I’ve slept with other men,” Buffy said quietly. “Doesn’t that bother you?”
Buffy wasn’t looking, but she could tell her husband was gritting his teeth.
“That’s,” he breathed, trying to control his anger. “That’s different.”
“How?” Buffy said.
“You know how,” William said. He hadn’t raised his voice an inch, but Buffy could tell he was getting angry.
“I wouldn’t hate you,” Buffy said.
“What?” William frowned, taken off guard.
“If you were the one who….” Buffy began, then faltered. “I wouldn’t hate you William.”
“No?” he said, disbelievingly.
“I’d be furious,” Buffy admitted. “But I wouldn’t hate you.”
Her eyes asked him the question. He looked down at his plate.
“Be honest with me,” she said. “Please.”
“I don’t know Buffy,” he said, slamming his fist on the table. “Goddamnit, I don’t know.”
Her lips trembled.
“Then I guess you don’t really love me,” she said, turning away to hide the shame she felt at saying that. She knew she wasn’t being fair.
“Not the way I love you.”
And with that she marched up the stairs. He stayed down in the kitchen for a long time and when he finally came upstairs Buffy could see he was wretched with pain.
“Don’t say that,” he pleaded. “Don’t say I don’t love you like…. You know that’s not true.”
“I thought I did,” Buffy said, wiping away a tear, turning to her side. “I thought I was more than just a body to keep you warm at night. I guess I was wrong.”
“You know you are,” he said, coming up behind her and gently touching her shoulder. “You’re more than that Buffy. I love your heart. I love your soul.”
“Then prove it,” she said.
“How?” he asked.
Buffy steeled herself. “By letting me go.”
Buffy felt his hand recoil from her touch as if she’d burned him.
“Let you go?” he whispered.
“Only for one night,” she said, pleading. “And then we’ll be free. Of everything. Just you and me. For the rest of our lives.”
William looked at her for the longest time. Buffy could see he was being torn apart inside. Buffy saw the turmoil in his eyes and felt guilty that she was lying to him that it was for one night only. I’ll tell him the whole truth later, she reasoned.
“It’s not my heart,” Buffy said, touching his cheek. “Not my soul. You’ll always have those.”
Buffy knew William couldn’t say the words. He could never say the words. So with the slightest, most imperceptible of nods, William finally gave in.
For the next few days, Buffy found her nerves on a knife’s edge. Every ring of the doorbell, every call and message on her phone, every e-mail would jangle her nerves. Faith accompanied Buffy to the hospital for her battery of tests, then collected the reports and sent them across to Fred. Buffy waited, and waited, and waited some more. March, turned into mid-April which turned into May. Meanwhile, Buffy quietly took care of all of the bills. They barely made conversation anymore, slept in the same bed but never touched. The whole affair hanging over their heads like the sword of Damocles. William continued to look for a job without much success.
Finally, in the third week of May, on Monday, Buffy received the call she was dreading.
“Buffy,” Xander said simply. “How have you been?”
“Fine,” Buffy said, determined to keep this conversation as short and unpleasant as she could manage.
“Are you free this weekend?” Xander said.
She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Smug bastard, she thought.
“It depends,” Buffy said coldly. “Am I contractually obligated to be?”
To her chagrin, Xander only chuckled.
“You certainly are,” he grinned. “Unless of course, you’ve changed your mind. In which case, you’re more than welcome to return the money. At fourteen percent interest? That’s a couple of hundred thousand dollars?”
Buffy said nothing. She wanted to tell him to go to hell and that she was going to return the money, but she knew it was a childish fantasy.

“Buffy?” Xander repeated. “Are you free this weekend?”
Buffy knew Xander was enjoying his position of dominance over her. Savouring it.
“Yes,” she said, trying not to scream obscenities at him.
“Good,” Xander said. “I’ll send the car on Friday. Bring your passport.”
“Goodbye Xander,” Buffy said, her finger poised over the disconnect button.
“And Buffy?” he said, forcing her to wait just one more moment.
“Yes?” she said, harshly.
“It’s all I’ve been thinking about,” he said, dropping his voice low. “Tell me you haven’t.”
Buffy didn’t wait this time. She just hung up the phone, tossing it onto a the bed, then sat down on the side, wrapping her arms around herself. Only one thought kept going through her head. How was she going to tell her husband what he feared most was going to come to pass? How am I going to break the news to Will?

For the next few days, Buffy found her nerves on a knife’s edge. Every ring of the doorbell, every call and message on her phone, every e-mail would jangle her nerves. Faith accompanied Buffy to the hospital for her battery of tests, then collected the reports and sent them across to Fred. Buffy waited, and waited, and waited some more. March, turned into mid-April which turned into May. Meanwhile, Buffy quietly took care of all of the bills. They barely made conversation anymore, slept in the same bed but never touched. The whole affair hanging over their heads like the sword of Damocles. William continued to look for a job without much success.

Finally, in the third week of May, on Monday, Buffy received the call she was dreading.

“Buffy,” Xander said. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” Buffy said, determined to keep this conversation as short and unpleasant as she could manage.

“Are you free this weekend?” Xander said.

She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Smug bastard, she thought.

“It depends,” Buffy said coldly. “Am I contractually obligated to be?”

To her chagrin, Xander only chuckled.

“You certainly are,” he grinned. “Unless of course, you’ve changed your mind. In which case, you’re more than welcome to return the money. At fourteen percent interest? That’s a couple of hundred thousand dollars?”

Buffy said nothing. She wanted to tell him to go to hell and that she was going to return the money, but she knew it was a childish fantasy.

“Buffy?” Xander repeated. “Are you free this weekend?”

Buffy knew Xander was enjoying his position of dominance over her. Savouring it.



“Yes,” she said, trying not to scream obscenities at him.



“Good,” Xander said. “I’ll send the car on Friday. Bring your passport.”



“Goodbye,” Buffy said coldly, her finger poised over the disconnect button.



“And Buffy?” he said, forcing her to wait just one more moment.



“Yes?” she said, harshly.



“It’s all I’ve been thinking about,” he said, dropping his voice low.

“Tell me you haven’t.”



Buffy didn’t wait this time. She just hung up the phone, tossing it onto a the bed, then sat down on the side, wrapping her arms around herself. Only one thought kept going through her head. How was she going to tell her husband what he feared most was going to come to pass? How am I going to break the news to Will?



Friday morning….



Buffy paced in the bathroom, trying to keep herself from hyperventilating. She’d spent the past few days trying to bring up the topic, but her nerves just kept failing her. She just couldn’t seem to get the words out. And now Will was getting ready to leave for a promising interview. This was almost certainly her last chance. It’s not like they’d been talking much anyway, other than a few perfunctory greetings.



Buffy took a deep breath and opened the door. He was gone. Buffy looked around and saw nothing. She heard his footsteps on the stairs.



“Will,” Buffy called out as she ran to the top of the staircase. She looked down. He was at the bottom of the staircase, looking up at her.



“Yes luv?”



Buffy swallowed. I have to tell him, Buffy told herself. I have to tell him right now.



“I…..” Buffy began.



He was looking at her. Softly. Hesitantly. Expectantly.



God, she thought. Tell him. Just tell him.



“I love you,” she said.



A sweet smile broke out on his face, something that made her heart shrivel up.



“I love you too,” he said.



Buffy tried to open her mouth, but found it impossible. And then he was walking to the door. The creak of the door shutting awoke her from her stupor. She bounded down the stairs and ran to the door, only to see him driving away.



Buffy grabbed her phone. Call him. Tell him to come home. But her finger refused to co-operate. It was then that Buffy realized that she’d never be able to tell him what she’d done. Never be able to say the words.



So how then? Buffy thought, miserably.



Buffy’s cellphone rang. It was Faith.



“Change of plans B,” Buffy heard. “The car is picking you up. Now.”



“Now?” Buffy said bewildered. “But that wasn’t….”



“It’s complicated,” Faith said. “But long story short. If you aren’t in that car you’re in violation of the contract.”



Buffy heard a knock on the door.



“I have to go,” she said, hanging up the phone.



It was an extremely well-built man, immaculately turned out.



“Buffy?” he asked. She nodded.



“I’m Adam. Mr Harris’s head of security. Are you ready to go?”



“I….”



“You don’t need anything,” Adam said, reassuringly. “Just your passport.”



Buffy took a deep breath.



“A few minute please,” she said.



Adam nodded, then turned around and shut the door. Buffy looked around. Her eyes fell on something on the drawing table. She snatched it up then went upstairs. A few minutes later, she returned, clutching just her passport. Buffy paused to examine her reflection in the mirror just near the door. Her beautiful hair looked dirty yellow and stringy, her eyes were red and her face was puffy. She looked awful.



Good, Buffy thought bitterly. I hope the bastard isn’t too disappointed with what he’s getting for his money.



Buffy walked out the door as Adam opened the limo door for her. Buffy took one last look at the house, then the cellphone in her hand, which displayed the name ‘William.’



“I’m sorry William,” Buffy whispered. Then she turned off the phone, placed it in the purse and got into the car.



Buffy was taken to the airport and chaperoned through until she reached a hangar. The door to the airplane was open. Buffy looked around. It was just her and Adam. She looked at him, questioningly.



“Mr Harris is abroad,” Adam said, delicately guiding her to the steps. “You’ll be flying to him.”



Buffy nodded, shrugging her shoulders, climbing into the plane. She looked around. Expensive looking leather seats surrounded by a home theatre and a bar that was stocked to the brim. A white velvet carpet covered every inch of the floor.



“Please,” Adam said, gesturing for her to sit. Buffy did, looking out the window as the plane taxied out and flew into the sky. She kept awake for as long as she could before, she let herself rest her eyes. Her last waking thought was of her husband.



Buffy awoke mid-descent, momentarily discombobulated. Daylight was fading. As soon as the plane landed, she was bundled into a luxurious car and taken to a hotel. Buffy couldn’t help but notice the beautiful surroundings—the lush fields, dense forests and a noticeable lack of pale faces—if she’d have to guess, she’d say she was on some sort of island.



At the hotel, she was escorted to a private elevator and taken up to the suite on the topmost floor, where a woman was waiting for her.



“Ms Buffy,” said the beautiful exotic looking woman. “I am Maya.”



“Hi,” Buffy said, for the first time, regretting the lack of effort she’d put into her appearance lately. Compared to this creature, Buffy felt she looked like a homeless person.



“I’m the valet for this private suite,” Maya said, smiling at her. “I’m at your service, always.”



“Thank you,” Buffy said. “It’s…..very nice.”



Buffy knew she was understating things. The suite was gorgeous. Like something out of one of her design books. Room after room after room with furniture that looked like it had been designed for

French royalty. But honestly, she couldn’t bring herself to care.



“You have a salon appointment at 7,” Maya said. “That gives you a few hours to sleep of the jet lag. Then dinner at 9.”



“Salon appointment?” Buffy echoed, flopping down on the bed.



“Mr Harris was very specific for tonight’s schedule,” Maya nodded.



Buffy thought of refusing, but what would be gained by that?

Besides, she didn’t want to do anything that would violate the terms of the agreement. She was, despite Faith’s and Fred’s reassurances, fearful that Xander would somehow find a way to screw her out of her money.



No pun intended B, Buffy heard Faith’s husky voice quip.



Get out of my head Faith, Buffy thought, massaging her temples.

“Okay,” Buffy said.



“There’s a telephone here if you need anything,” Maya gestured. “I’m number 9.”



“Can I dial out?” Buffy asked.



“Just dial 10 and the number,” Maya said. “Is there anything you need?”



Buffy shook her head.



“I’ll see you at 7,” Maya said.



Buffy picked up the phone, then just stared at it hesitantly.



At 10 minutes to 7, Buffy was gently roused from her bed. Maya was waiting with a tray of fruit, black coffee and toasted bread. Buffy ate only sparingly before being directed to one of the smaller rooms in the suite and guided into a long hot bath, after which about half a dozen women were waiting for her. Buffy was guided into a bathrobe and a chair, various cold creams were applied to her face and cucumbers placed on her eyes. Her dirty yellow hair was washed again and again and again until it shone like spun gold. Her legs were waxed until they were smooth then rubbed and oiled until they shone with a healthy glow. Her face was scrubbed until it was raw and pink and clean. Buffy was hustled in front of a vanity mirror where her hair was carefully curled and styled and her face was painstakingly made up. Then, before she knew it, she was being made to slip into a dress.



Buffy looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting the uncomfortably tight silver dress. It showed an ungodly amount of golden leg and thigh, ending an inch below her panties. Not to mention it was backless, exposing her skin to the cool air-conditioned air and giving her goosebumps. And the shoes she’d been provided with were a pair of six-inch prada pumps. Something she’d have once loved to own, but that were putting a serious hurt on her legs and back.

You look beautiful luv, she could almost hear William whisper into her ear. His voice was tinged with sorrow. It sent a dagger through her heart, knowing that this was for someone else. Buffy knew she had never looked more gorgeous. Usually, she’d be proud, but for once, Buffy hated what she saw. Her beauty made her desirable to Xander. But he didn’t cherish her. Buffy made her face into an impassive mask. That’s how it’s going to be then, she vowed. Just a cold, impassive mask. No emotion. Just cold, unfeeling sex.



“Buffy,” she heard him say. Her skin crawled at the sound of his voice.



“Xander,” she said, draining her voice of any emotion.



She felt him walk up behind her. And then his reflection was next to hers.



“You look…” he said, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “Sensational.”



“Thank you,” she said insincerely, glancing at him. He was in an immaculately tailored suit that showed off his muscular physique. Buffy knew he’d dressed up to try to impress her and she made a point of not returning the compliment, knowing it would sting his considerable ego. But he didn’t even seem to notice. Buffy saw his eyes languidly run down her back, enjoying the skin on display. Buffy took in a quick breath when she felt his fingers on the small of her lower back.



“Beautiful,” Xander whispered, his thumb and forefinger stroked the

butter soft, creamy skin then massaged it experimentally, glancing up at Buffy’s face. It was impassive. Not a spot of emotion.



“Should I go undress?” she asked monotonously.



Buffy saw Xander’s eyes flicker with anger as he understood her plan. She was giving him her body and nothing else. Not one ounce of what made her her. The next moment Xander was cool again, but Buffy took immense satisfaction from his anger.



“You’ve got to find a more creative way to think about this,” Xander smiled, gently running his hand down to her waist, then squeezing it possessively. “I know I have.”



I’m sure you have, Buffy thought savagely. Bastard.



“Shall we?” Xander asked, not waiting for her reply, just guiding her

into the private elevator.



When the door opened Buffy was in a beautifully decorated ballroom, filled with opulently dressed couples slowly waltzing to classical music. Ordinarily, Buffy would have loved to join in, but not today. Yet she couldn’t refuse when Xander escorted her to the floor. Nor could she chide him when he pulled her intimately close.



“They’re all watching you,” Xander said, his hands running down her back.



Buffy didn’t have to be told. She knew most if not all of the eyes in the room were trained on them. She could feel the adoring, lustful gazes of the men and the jealous, wistful glances from the women. Some wishing perhaps that they were in her place. Buffy had to keep in a bitter laugh. If they only knew.



“How does that make you feel?”



Buffy ignored his question and looked away.



“I love it,” Xander said blithely continuing their conversation. "

Watching their faces when they see something they can’t have. Their jealousy, envy and greed laid bare. Definitely some of the best sins.”



Buffy felt anger when she realized what Xander was doing. He was showing her off. Like some prize toy. What compounded her fury was her inability to do anything about it.



“Do you have a favourite sin Buffy?” Xander asked. Buffy was spared a reply by the song ending. The couples broke apart, politely applauding the band and returning to their tables. Xander followed suit, guiding Buffy to a private candle-lit booth. Buffy sat in silence as the waiters laid out several plates of exotic foods, then opened an expensive bottle of champagne, content to roll her fingers over her glass stem as Xander described the fine vintage.



“It’s not going to work,” Buffy said, after the waiter had poured her a glass. “All this. It’s not going to make me forget.”



“This?” Xander queried, sipping his drink.



“We both know what this is,” Buffy said.



“Foreplay?” Xander smirked. Buffy flinched.



“Pretending,” she said. “That this is something it isn’t.”



“You’re pretending too Buffy,” Xander said.



“What the hell does that mean?” Buffy narrowed her eyes at him.

Xander smiled. “And you never told me what your favourite sin is?”



“Pride,” Buffy said snarkily. “Because it goeth before the fall.”



“I’d bet,” Xander said. “I can change your mind.”



“Oh?” Buffy challenged. “Is that right?”



Xander took a moment to consider his answer.



“My lucky silver dollar,” Xander said, removing a large coin from his pants, then showed it to Buffy.



“Heads is Pride,” Xander said. “If you win, you go upstairs. Alone. I stay down here for the rest of the evening.”



Buffy blinked. Alone? Was this a trick?



“Deal?” he asked, not waiting for her answer by tossing the coin high in the air.



Buffy was hypnotized by the coin’s revolutions. She saw Xander pluck it out of thin air. Buffy knew she had nothing to lose. She nodded. Xander opened his hand and showed it to her. Buffy looked away, the hope squashed inside of her.



Buffy closed her eyes. She could still see the soft smile on William’s face when she told him she loved him.



No, she thought. I’m not going to go there. I’m not going to think about Will.



“We go upstairs then,” Xander said, sliding over to her side. Buffy felt his lips at her ear, and his fingers stroking her thigh. “And indulge in my favourite sin.”



Lust, Buffy thought despairingly, closing her eyes.



When William returned the house was dark. He turned on the kitchen light, then placed the take-out food he’d gotten on the counter.



“Buffy?” he called. “Luv?”



No reply.



William tried her cellphone. No luck.



Prolly just at the supermarket, he figured. Battery must have drained. William waited in front of the Tv downstairs, trying not to keep checking his phone for messages.



He couldn’t wait to share the good news. At long last, he’d done it. He’d landed a position. It didn’t pay as much as the last one, to be sure, and it wasn’t going to get them out of the hole, but it was a good start.



William glanced at the clock. It had been a half-hour since he’d gotten home. And still no Buffy.



“Where are you luv?” he whispered, touching his phone. Suddenly William felt sweaty, dirty. His shirt was sticking to his body. He needed a bath.



Feeling slightly antsy now, William bounded upstairs. He stripped off his clothes, tossing them on the bed with abandon and took a hot, short shower. When he emerged soaking wet, he saw the mess he’d made on the bed and chuckled. He could hear her voice in her ear.



God, you’re such a pig Spike, she was saying. Did you grow up on the farm?



He bent over to pick up his clothes and froze. Underneath the garments, there was an envelope with his name on it. It was Buffy’s handwriting. He knew. At that moment he knew. But he wouldn’t believe it. He couldn’t. She’d talked about it, but there was no way Buffy would ever…No, not his Buffy.



William’s hand shook slightly as he lifted it open and took out the

hand-written note. His eyes began to well up as he read the first lines, blurring out the rest of the words.



I have to go Will. Just for a little while. And then we’ll be free. For the rest of our lives. You’ll always have my heart and soul. I love you. Nothing will ever change that.

B



William felt tears flowing down his face and dropping onto the note, smudging the beautiful penmanship. He didn’t know when his tears turned to anger. Suddenly furious, he tore the note to shreds and threw it away.



“Fucking bitch,” he screamed at the bits of paper. “Fucking….”

And then his voice broke.

Suddenly, William was on his knees, furiously trying to gather the tiny bits of paper and clutching them to his chest with both hands. He didn’t know when he curled up on the floor, suddenly exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep. So he slept. A dark, dreamless sleep.

When he awoke, it was dark. William looked around. It took a moment for him to put it together. Where he was. All alone. In their empty home. For a moment, William nearly called out for Buffy.

Her name was on his lips. And then he remembered. Where his wife was. With whom. And why. It made bile rise in his throat. William found himself needing a drink.

He dragged himself to his feet and their kitchen. Opened up their little-used liquor cabinet and grabbed whatever he could. There, sitting at their kitchen island in the dark, William found himself downing glass after glass.

William hoped the drink would clear his mind. Numb his feelings. Instead, it had the opposite effect. His nerve endings felt like they were on fire. He couldn’t stop himself from fixating on them. Where they were this very moment.

Had the billionaire taken his wife somewhere out in the ocean? On a fancy yacht in international waters maybe? Beyond the reach of the law to consecrate a unholy deal such as this?

Or maybe he’d whisked her away to some romantic city like Paris or Milan? Hoping somehow to woo her. To make her forget – at least for a time – the sordid nature of their arrangement.

Or maybe they were in some exotic island locale? On a beach somewhere with crystal clear waters. Soft, white beaches. With pink, fizzy drinks.

The thought came to him. Unwanted. Unheeded. Unbidden.

Had Xander fucked Buffy yet?

The likelihood that the billionaire had already been intimate with his wife left William exceedingly thirsty. He downed yet another glass.

William couldn’t help but consider it. He found himself considering it. From what he knew about Buffy – or what he thought he did before this sordid affair – jumping straight into bed with Xander wasn’t her style. Not even close.

No, he thought. Buffy would need to be wooed. To be eased into it.

William suspected Xander would be only too happy to play along. There was no hurry after all. He had plenty of time. He could imagine the billionaire’s game plan.

He’d want to take Buffy out. On a proper date. To have her on his arm. To show her off. Of that much he was certain. Hell, he’d even go as far to pick out Buffy’s outfit. Something in alluring red. Or perhaps black. Sexy, of course but elegant. Classy.

Something strapless. With a deep, plunging neckline. Cutting off mid-thigh. And six-inch high heels to show off her gorgeous legs. She, meanwhile, was in no position to refuse.

Then, once Buffy had gotten dolled up, would Xander pick her up. In a sleek, sexy sports car most likely. They’d go someplace exclusive and eye-wateringly expensive. The billionaire would order a $10,000 bottle of champagne right off the bat. Determined to impress her. To flaunt his wealth. Give her a taste of how the .1 percent live.

Then, dinner. Caviar, oysters, and truffles. Aphrodisiacs, one and all. Topped off by an exquisite chocolate dessert. Something truly sinful. A small taste of things to come.

William looked at the clock. It was nearly 1 am. Several hours had elapsed since Buffy left.

Were Xander and Buffy still at dinner? Was she enjoying herself? Just a little? Had the billionaire somehow managed to charm her? Or maybe… Maybe they were back at his place already.

The image of them flashed before his eyes. Buffy and Xander bursting through the suite door. Kissing passionately. Their hands all over each other.

“Christ,” William muttered. Shaking his head fiercely. He found himself eyeing the bottom of yet other glass of alcohol. He’d drunk enough to render himself senseless. And yet, he wasn’t.

William simply couldn’t fathom it. Why the drink wasn’t taking effect. And why he couldn’t stop thinking about them.

Again, he saw it. Buffy and Xander were kissing. Except now, they were on a large bed. His wife was assisting the billionaire in shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt. Revealing his incredibly ripped physique. Then lightly running her hands over his muscular chest and broad shoulders. His hands, meanwhile, were Buffy’s waist and lower back.

“Mmmmm,” she was moaning. Approvingly.

When kiss finally ended, Buffy opened her eyes. Her beautiful green eyes were burning with desire.

Buffy wanted Xander, William realized. She’d wanted him all along.

Xander knew. As evinced by the satisfied smirk he was wearing.

They just stared at each other for a few moments.

Not a word was said between them. None were needed.

The billionaire now leaned in again. And took his wife’s lips anew.

“Mmmmmhmmmm,” Buffy murmured. Approvingly.

Her left hand resting on Xander’s right peck for support. William saw it. On Buffy’s left hand. His wife was still wearing her wedding ring.

Had she neglected to take it off? Or had the billionaire insisted she leave it on?

Regardless, they were soon locked in a steamy, sensual kiss. Now, the billionaire had taken his wife in his arms. And, turning her around, was slowly laying her down on the bed.

William shut his eyes. Put his hands over his face. Trying to block out the images.

Instead, he found himself assailed by the image of Buffy’s perfect face contorted in bliss. As the billionaire’s face was buried between her legs.

“Goddamnit,” William swore. Slamming his fist into the island.

But the image remained before his eyes.

Now, he could hear Buffy’s moans.

“Oh,” he heard his wife murmur. Softly. “Uh. Uhhhhh.”

“Yeah,” he heard the billionaire say. Lasciviously. “Fuck Buff. You taste so good, baby.”

“Don’t stop,” he heard her whimper.

William found himself on his feet. Walking unsteadily to the bedroom. Blinking back tears. Finding himself questioning everything he knew. Their marriage. Their future. Everything they’d planned on for the rest of their lives.

William looked around. To see the new armoire they’d bought together at a flea market. The bathroom they’d renovated last spring. With the pink tiles she’d wanted.

The pictures Buffy had put up of them all over the place. Smiling. Arm in arm. On vacation. On holidays. On their wedding day. On their honeymoon.

Goddamn you Buffy, William thought. Finding himself blinking back tears. Goddamn you for doing this to me. To us. To our marriage.

Now, William found himself thinking of their Vegas vacation. Things hadn’t been perfect between them, but they had been going as well as could be. Everything had changed since then. Ever since Xander had offered them millions for a night with Buffy.

There had been gorgeous women all over the place. And yet, the billionaire had somehow zeroed in on his wife.

“Why did he have to choose Buffy?” William found himself muttering. As he sat on the bed. His hands gripping the bedsheets so tight they’d turned white. “Why my wife? My Buffy? Why?”

William recalled the infuriating smirk on the billionaire’s face when he introduced himself. It had remained all evening as he entertained them. The look in his eyes.

It was as if Xander was certain what would happen. That in just a few short hours, his wife would somehow end up in the billionaire’s bed.

William hadn’t been surprised by the proposal itself. It was the brazenness of it that had taken him aback. The matter-of-factness of it all.

He figured the billionaire would somehow try to get him drunk. Or divert his attention with another woman. But no. He’d come straight out and tried to buy Buffy.

William had found the look on Xander’s face as he and Buffy left the room hand-in-hand extremely satisfying. And yet, looking back now, William recognized something in the billionaire’s eyes. He was beaten sure. But not defeated.

Suddenly, William found the answer coming to him instantly. Why Buffy. Sure, his wife was drop-dead gorgeous. That was a no-brainer. But it was more than that. Xander wanted Buffy precisely because he couldn’t have her. Because she was unattainable. Out of reach. A challenge. Because she was married.

“Son of a bitch,” William swore. To himself. His hands squeezing the bedsheets even tighter. “Motherfucker.”

Suddenly, William found himself noticing a photograph of Buffy kept by the bedside. It was a photo from their honeymoon.

Buffy was lazing in a chair by the hotel pool. Wearing black sunglasses and a white, wide-brimmed hat. From under which her blond locks were flowing in loose waves.

But it was the one-piece yellow swimsuit that grabbed William’s notice. It was hugging every curve. Buffy’s firm, perky breasts. Her slender hips. Her tiny waist and flat, tight stomach. Showing off her tanned, toned arms and legs.

Buffy was wearing a minimal amount of makeup. Smiling slightly bashfully at being photographed. She looked devastatingly beautiful.

Then, the thought struck William. Buffy’s gorgeous lips. Her golden locks. Her slender hips and firm waist. Her tanned, toned arms and legs. Her perky breasts. Tonight, they belonged to Xander. Who had paid millions of dollars for the privilege.

Goddamn you Xander Harris, William thought. You motherfucker. You son of a bitch.

William found himself choking back tears. At the realization that the billionaire had turned his Buffy – his sweet, beautiful wife – into an escort. Nothing more than a high-class hooker.

William could scarcely imagine the billionaire’s satisfaction at the turn of events. At the knowledge that he had triumphed. Defeated them both. That the money had, in the end, won out. It made his heart ache.

Then, the gravity of it finally hit William. What was going to happen. The billionaire was going to fuck his wife tonight. Xander was going to be inside Buffy. The woman he loved. Several times most likely. As well as fulfill whatever other lurid fantasies he had been imagining. And William was powerless to stop it.

William looked at the photograph again. And found himself wondering what Buffy would be feeling. Knowing it was going to happen. That she was going to have sex with Xander tonight. For money. That she was going to be prostituting herself.

William could see Buffy being deeply disgusted by it. By him. By herself. By all of it. That she’d just lie there. Flat and lifeless. Bidding him to take what he wanted and get it over with.

But William couldn’t help but wonder. If some small, secret part of his wife was looking forward to it. Was excited by it even. The knowledge that she would be breaking her vows. Crossing a forbidden line.

Just then, William’s phone buzzed.

“Buffy,” he whispered. He snatched the phone up from the bedside table.

It was a message from an unknown number. William hesitated. Then took a breath and opened it.

And there she was. The woman he loved. Buffy Anne Summers. In all her glory.

Standing in front of a mirror. Her face perfectly painted. In a tight-fitting dress and six-inch high heels. The dress was perfectly tailored to show off Buffy’s best assets. Her legs that went on for days. Her lush, firm bottom. Her tight, flat stomach. But most of all, the plunging neckline revealing nearly all of Buffy’s firm perky breasts.

“Jesus,” William whispered.

William immediately tried calling the number. Nothing.

He tried sending it a message. Again, nothing.

Suddenly, it struck William. Why the billionaire had sent him the photo. Of his wife all dolled-up.

He wants me to see what Buffy looked like, William thought. On their big date. To remind me of what’s his tonight. The love of my life. My wife. My Buffy.

That’s right Willie, the billionaire’s smug voice seemed to say. Take a good look, mate. At just how sexy your wife looks tonight. How desirable. How damn fuckable. And all for me.

Son of a bitch, William thought. Motherfucker.

Now, William found himself staring at the picture again. He forced himself to focus. To look for clues. Something. Anything that would reveal where she was. Where they were.

Buffy was in a well-lit room. She was staring straight ahead. Seemingly unaware of the camera. Which meant that she hadn’t posed for it. For him.

William found himself examining the look on his wife’s face. At first glance, Buffy’s face was impassive. Inscrutable. But William could tell something was simmering under the surface.

It was something in Buffy’s eyes. Anxiety, yes. Anger, sure. But was there something else?

Suddenly, William’s phone buzzed again. It was a video call this time. From Buffy.

William immediately hit the accept button.

The face of the woman he loved filled the screen.

“Luv,” William said. “Where are you?”

“I don’t have much time Will,” Buffy said. In a low, soft tone. “I just wanted you to know that I’m okay.”

“Luv,” William said. His voice trembling. “Come home. Please. I need you.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Buffy said. Sadly. “You know I can’t do that. The money…”

“Sod the money,” William snarled. “Sod everything. I just need you. Here. With me.”

“I’m fine, Will,” Buffy said. “I just… I just need to ask you something, okay?”

“What?” William said.

“Just…promise you’ll be honest,” Buffy said.

William hesitated.

“I…I promise,” he said. Hesitantly.

“Do you….” she began. Then sighed.

“Do you like my outfit, honey?” she asked. In a voice as sweet as syrup.

“What?” William said.

His wife now held the phone up. It showed her sitting on a bed in a hotel room. She used her free hand to smoothen out the dress. A concerned look on her face. Now, she struck a sultry pose on the bed.

“I mean, I look smoking hot, right babe?” his wife asked again.

Rubbing her left leg against her right for emphasis.

“I…..” William began. In disbelief. “I don’t…”

Now, Buffy straightened up. She put her left hand on her hip. And gave him the familiar ‘Just say Yes, idiot’ look.

“Yeah,” William said. Hoarsely. “You…you look beautiful, luv.”

“Good,” Buffy said. Then sighed heavily. “I just wanted to look perfect tonight. I mean, it’s a lot of pressure, right? Going on a date with a billionaire?”

Oh shit, William thought. Oh fuck.

Only now did it occur to him. That someone they know – friends, family, or coworkers – might see a picture of Buffy and Xander on social media or some gossip website. His wife and the billionaire. On a date. In public. Giving rise to a million questions for him. With no possible answer.

William’s heart rose in his chest.

“Luv,” he said. His voice growing frantic. “Please. Don’t do this.”

“Oh honey,” Buffy said. Sympathetically. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. No one will know. And don’t worry about me. I can handle myself. You know that.”

“I can’t,” William said. Looking away. “I can’t bear it.”

“I know baby,” Buffy said. “I just thought it might help.”

William paused. Then looked at her. His wife’s expression was sincere.

“Help?” he asked. Confused. “How is this supposed to bloody help me?

Buffy sighed deeply.

“Help you accept things,” Buffy said. Softly.

William stared at his wife. Incomprehensibly.

“I can’t,” he said. Finally. Sadly.

“You have to,” Buffy said. Firmly. A tinge of sadness in her voice. “You know you do.”

William found himself unable to meet his wife’s eyes.

“Don’t do this Buffy,” he said. “Please. I’m begging you.”

A moment passed. Buffy exhaled. Heavily.

“To be honest….” Buffy began.

William looked up. To see his wife biting her lip. Hope flared in his chest.

“I’m actually kinda looking forward to it,” Buffy said. Dropping her voice to a confessional whisper.

“What?” William asked. Flabbergasted.

“I mean, can you blame me babe?” Buffy asked. Indignantly. “When was the last time you took me on an actual date?”

Try as he might, William couldn’t remember.

“Then there’s the fact that he’s hot and loaded,” Buffy added. Matter of factly.

“My girlfriends would be so freaking jealous if they knew,” she added. Girlishly twirling a strand of her golden hair.

William found himself confused now. At the abrupt change of tone from his wife

“Actually,” Buffy said. She seemed to consider it. Then smiled. “I am excited about it. Really, really excited.”

“What?” William asked. Horrified. “Luv, what are you saying?”

By now, an amorous look had settled across his wife’s face.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Buffy asked. “Look into my eyes, baby. Don’t I look excited?”

William could see it in his wife’s eyes. It was as plain as day. Buffy was excited for her date with Xander. William found himself speechless.


“I can’t wait for him to bring me back here later tonight,” Buffy said. Throatily.

By now, she’d flopped back down on the bed. And positioning her phone against a pillow, was running her hands down her body.

“And take this dress off me.”


“Luv,” William said. His eyes wide and disbelieving. His voice alarmed.

“We’re gonna be right here, Will,” Buffy said. Running her hand across the bed. “Naked.”

“Don’t,” William warned.


“His big, thick dick is gonna be inside me,” Buffy whispered. Her voice grew huskier. Her eyes grew more heated. “Pumping away.”

“Stop,” William snarled.

But she didn’t.

“I don't think he's the pulling out type either," she continued. Arching her back and licking her lips. "I honestly can't wait to find out."

William found himself horrified. And unable to form any words.

Now, Buffy sat up. Her face was contorted in a wicked smile.

“I mean, I gotta give him his money’s worth tonight, right babe?” Buffy asked. With a sly wink. “ And $10 million buys a whole lotta lovin.’”


Suddenly, the image of them was before his eyes again.

Except Xander and Buffy were no longer on the bed. Instead, they were in front of a roaring fireplace. On an expensive-looking white, fur rug. Naked and intertwined.

The billionaire was sitting upright. His legs straight out in front of him. His wife was in his lap. Her arms around his shoulders. Her legs behind his lower back.

Buffy was rocking and grinding on Xander. Slowly. Fluidly. The billionaire’s hands were on his wife’s bottom. Guiding her thrusts.

“Yeah,” Xander growled. Burying his face between her breasts. “Ride me.”

“Oh god,” Buffy moaned. Throwing her head back. “Oh fuck. Oooh!”

William put his head in his hands.

No, William thought. Not love. Not what we have. Just sex.

“You okay, blondie???”

William opened his eyes.

Buffy, he thought nonsensically. His drink-sodden mind somehow conjuring the possibility that his wife had returned.

Instead, he found himself looking up at Faith Lehane. His wife’s best friend.

William looked around. The phone was lying on the floor. He’d been asleep.

It was a dream, he realised. It was only a dream.

Then, he noticed Faith. The brunette’s eyes were tinged with pity.

William found himself hating what he saw in them.

“Faith,” Spike spat out. “It’s you.”

“I just wanted to check up on you,” Faith said. Softly. “See how you were doing. With everything.”

Spike shrugged.

“Peaches and cream,” he said. Dismissively. “All I need….”

Spike looked around to find his half-empty bottle of scotch on the bedside table, then reached out for it.

“Is my medicine.”

Spike chugged the bottle dry, then tossed it aside. The glass splintered with a heavy crash.

“Jesus Spike,” Faith said. “Get a hold of yourself.”

“Sod off,” Spike snarled, looking around. He spotted another bottle by the bedside table and reached for it. Faith grabbed his hand.

“That’s enough,” the brunette said.

“Yeah?” Spike said.

A beat passed. Faith saw a shadow pass over Spike’s eyes and his mouth contort into a wolfish leer.

“You’re right,” Spike said, maneuvering Faith’s hand until her palm was in his. “Enough booze. Let’s find something more fun to drown in.”

Uh-oh, Faith thought. This is not good.

“Stop it,” Faith said, when Spike used his strength to pull Faith against him.

“I’m serious,” Faith added, trying to squirm out of Spike’s grip as he manouvered her across his lap. “This isn't why I came here.”

“No?” Spike challenged, his hands moving to divest the brunette of her clothing.

“No,” Faith said, a little less forcefully than she should have, trying to thwart Spike's busy hands.

“Didn't cross your mind on the way over?” Spike queried, his hands pausing for a moment.

“No,” Faith said, lying through her perfect white teeth. Okay. It had. Faith couldn't exactly help herself. She was a human being, a woman in her sexual prime. And Spike was, well, a goddamn hottie. Faith's mind had strayed to those thoughts, before she'd firmly dismissed it. But Spike seemed to read her inner thoughts.

“See,” Spike said. “The thing is. I know all about your little college exploits.”

“Ancient history,” Faith said, rolling her eyes.

“I know where you live,” Spike sneered. “Wanting a taste of what you can't have. What you shouldn't have. What belongs to her.”

Faith couldn't stop herself from getting goosebumps. She'd always had a yen for what wasn't hers. And the thought of taking what belonged to Buffy. Oh my. That particular thought never failed to get her off. It was an itch she'd always wanted to scratch. She'd even come close once. But no cigar. Some itches never went away. And truth be told, she'd always wanted to jump the delicious Brit one of her best friends had married.

Faith sighed deeply, through her inner monologue.

Buffy's getting laid right now, Faith. Doesn't seem fair for poor William to be left out.

“This is a bad idea,” Faith said, after thinking about it for a few moments.

Not exactly a no, Spike thought, cocking a brow.

“Yeah,” Spike smirked. “But you're a bad, bad girl. And I'm a bad, bad man.”

And with that, Spike lay back, pulling a slightly reluctant Faith down with him.

Sorry B, Faith thought, when Spike pulled her mouth down on his and captured her lips in a searing kiss. I'm a bad girl. But then again, tonight, so are you.

Monday.....
Buffy stood on her home's porch. She just stared at the door, her key in the latch, her hand on the doorknob. The moment was here. The one she'd been thinking about ever since she left her home on Friday. The one she'd been dreading. She'd wondered how William had reacted when he'd found her note. How he'd coped with her absence that weekend. And what he'd say when she got home.

It must have been absolute hell for him, Buffy thought, a wave of guilt eating away at her. Her heart felt heavy. Her stomach nauseous. Her hands trembled slightly.

You can't just stand here forever, Buffy thought. It's time to go home now. And forget....

Buffy took a deep breath, then opened the door. The house seemed deserted.

“Will?” she croaked, before clearing her throat.

“William?” she managed to say, her voice slightly strained.

No answer. Buffy sighed, partly relieved that he wasn't there. That she didn't have to come face to face with him. Yet. She climbed up the stairs, her footsteps heavy. She paused when she opened their bedroom. It looked like a disaster area. Things were flung everywhere, bottles were broken and furniture was shattered. It made Buffy wince.

Buffy took a hot bath, then spent the rest of the day cleaning up.

She figured William would be out job-hunting and that she could take her time. Buffy found the pieces of the note she'd written him strewn under the bed.

God, Buffy thought. He must have been in so much pain.
“I'm sorry I hurt you Will,” Buffy whispered, rubbing her fingers over the tattered notes. “But I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I promise.”

Buffy managed to make their room inhabitable by dinner time. Then she rushed down to cook William's favourite meal, although she doubted any of them would actually be in a mood to eat. More of a peace offering, she reckoned. Something to break the ice. She even changed into a long flowing dress that William liked and let her hair down. Buffy regarded herself in the small mirror in the kitchen.

She looked like one of those 'Mad Men' housewives. Much to her surprise, she didn't hate the way it looked, or made her feel. Buffy had always been a feminist, but for some reason, she felt the need to play the doting housewife she and her friends had always mocked.

She kept glancing at the kitchen clock. It was nearly midnight when she perked up, hearing William's unmistakeable footsteps on her porch. Buffy shook slightly, inhaled deeply to try to get a hold of herself, then swallowed.

And then he was in front of her. He seemed to freeze up at the sight of her, as if he never expected to see her again.

“Hi,” she said.

She saw his eyes reflect the turmoil he was feeling. Shock. Anger. Hatred. Remorse. Guilt. Shame. She could read his eyes so easily. He was always, in his eyes.

Buffy felt her heart shrivel. There was nothing for him to feel guilty or ashamed about. He blamed himself, she knew. For not being able to take care of them. For, putting in her the situation to...

Buffy chased those thoughts away, with a small shake of her head. He was just staring at her. Neither of them spoke for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Hi,” he said, finally, his voice straining to reach normal.

“I uh,” Buffy stammered, putting on a weak smile. “I made dinner. Your favourite.”

God. This was a million times worse than she could have ever imagined. In her mind, he'd been raging. He'd been screaming at her, calling her all sorts of filthy names. But this? He looked just beaten. And haunted.

“I'm not hungry,” he said, then turned and walked up the stairs without waiting for her to respond. Buffy blinked, then chased after him.

“Will,” she said, as he paused on the top of the stairs. She remained on the bottom, hesitant, wondering if she should follow him. “Do you....”

“What?” he said, his voice harsh. Buffy winced at the hurt in his voice.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she said, so gently, she barely heard herself, taking one step at a time until she was almost behind him. She could almost hear him grinding his teeth together. She reached out to touch his shoulder.

“There's nothing to talk about,” Spike said gruffly. And with that, he walked into their room, leaving Buffy reaching for air. Buffy heard the room door click loudly and stood there, in a daze. He'd shut her out. Buffy came forward, preparing to knock on the door. Her fist dangled forward, then gently stroked the door, as if running her hand through his hair. Buffy walked back to the top of the stairs, looking back.

Time, Buffy thought. He just needs some time. And space. We both do. We just need to put this past us. Forget this weekend ever happened and move on with our lives. Buffy sat on the top stair of their home, trying to convince herself that everything would be allright. But William was sitting with his back to the other side of the door, drinking from a flask he'd hidden away under his coat. Tears streaming down his face and mixing with his drink, as he thought how much they'd betrayed each other that weekend.

The month that followed was much the same. Buffy found herself moving into the guest room. She figured she'd try and give him (and herself) some time and space. Despite her best efforts, William managed to leave before Buffy ever awakened. And he returned much, much after she'd given up waiting for him and had gone to bed. She'd always heard his footsteps passing the guest bedroom. He never ate, as far as she could tell. He never told her where his job was. Even his perfunctory greetings seemed ice cold.

Then, Buffy found herself getting angry at him. He's behaving like a child, she thought. We're adults. This is not how adults behave when there's a problem. We need to talk about it.

That was how she found herself sitting on his bed, late one night. Waiting for him. She glanced at the clock. It was well-past midnight. As if on cue, the front door opened. Buffy's resolve weakened, but then she firmed it up.

You can do this, she thought. You have to do this. It's like drawing poison from a wound.

And then he was opening the door. William paused, seeing her sitting on his bed. Buffy saw him flinch visibly at the sight of her.

“Will,” she said softly. “We need to talk about.....things.”

“Things,” he said. Buffy saw the change in his eyes, saw him move to 'Spike' in an instant. She heard the tinge of bitter amusement in his voice, heard the slightly slurred speech. He wasn't drunk, but he'd had a few drinks.

“Right,” he said, flippantly. “Let's talk about things, shall we?”

Spike rubbed his hands together, looking around.


“This lamp,” he said, pointing to their bedside table. “I've always hated it.”

“What?” Buffy said, bewildered.

“And I have to say pet,” Spike rubbed his chin. “Don't fancy these curtains either.”

Buffy found her temper rising, but managed to keep it under control. He's just hurting, Buffy heard her mother's voice say. Lashing out. That's good. He's letting loose his emotions. It's healthy.

“That's not what I mean,” Buffy said.

“No?” Spike said. “What then?”

Buffy tried to say something, but failed. She tried again. Couldn't get it out either.

“Right,” Spike said, turning around. “Good talk then.”

“Wait,” Buffy said, her voice breaking. “Will. Please.”

Spike shut his eyes. He knew she was crying softly.

“Don't shut me out,” she said. “I know it hurt you. What I did.”

She couldn't even say it, Spike thought hardened his heart. She couldn't even say what she did.

Neither can you, he heard William's voice. Ya bleeding wanker.

That's different, Spike argued. I was hurt. Drunk out of my mind.
She bloody drove me to it.

Buffy interruped Spike's conversation with himself.

“Will?” she said gently.

“Fine,” Spike turned around. “You want to talk?”

Buffy nodded.

“Then let's talk about it,” Spike said. Buffy looked pained, then squirmed. “What you did.”

“That's not what I....” she said, her heart hammering in her chest.

Oh god. What could she possibly say? She couldn't tell him what happened that weekend. She just couldn't.

“You said you wanted to talk,” Spike said. “So talk.”

The silence hung between them for a lifetime.

“What,” Buffy began hesitantly. “What do you want me to say?”

“Tell me what happened,” Spike said.

“You know what happened,” Buffy said, softly.

“Don't do this to yourself Will,” she begged. “To us. Please.”

“I want to know Buffy,” he said, forming his face into a rigid ugly
grin. “I want to know everything. Every sordid detail.”

“Why?” Buffy pleaded. “Why does it matter Will. It happened. It's over. And now it's just us. You and me.”

“You and Me,” Spike said. He paused.

“And Him,” he added bitterly. “In this room. The three of us.”

“That's not fair,” Buffy said, wiping a tear from her eyes. “I've left that part of me in the past. Why can't you?”

“Because I can't,” Spike shouted, slamming his fist into the wall, beating it again and again and again. “Because I have to know. It's driving me crazy.”

“Why?” Buffy screamed, bewildered. “Why can't you just let it be?”

“Because I need to know,” Spike said, leaning on the wall heavily. “I need to know what you did. With him.”

At last, Buffy found her anger. Her rage. She grabbed his shoulder, then spun him around, grabbing his collar.

“All right,” she said, her cheeks glistening with tears. “You want to know so bad? Then I'll tell you.”

Buffy saw Spike flinch, but she was too far gone. She was nearly hysterical. If he wanted to know so badly, she was going to tell him. Draw out the poison.

“The man was a stallion,” Buffy said, cruelly. “We were up all night. Every single night. Does that do it for you?”

She saw Spike' face crumble. He was defenseless now. And yet she drove a stake clean through his heart, finishing him off.

“I've never been fucked like that,” Buffy said, using her bedroom voice now, leaning on Spike, rubbing her body against him enticingly. “That hard. That good. That long. I'm getting wet just thinking about it.”

Buffy tried to reign herself in, but it was no use. She was too far gone.

“And then I begged him,” Buffy said, her voice finally breaking. “Begged him to cum inside me.”

Spike snarled, rearing his hand back to hit Buffy.

“Do it,” she screamed. “Hit me. Hit me, goddamnit.”

Spike dropped his hand, then fell to the floor, curling up alongside a wall. Buffy wrapped her hands around herself, still weeping. No-one spoke for a long time.

“Is it true?” William said, taking deep breaths. “Is that the truth?”

“You don't want the truth,” Buffy said, sounding broken. “You want me to lie. To tell you he was awful. And then you won't believe me.”

“Just tell me the truth Buffy,” William said hoarsely.

Buffy took a deep, long, pained breath.

“It was sex William,” she said. “Just sex. Not love. Not what we have.”

“Was it good?” William persisted.

Buffy felt her nostrils flare, but then the fight left her entirely.

“Yes,” she said, finally, with a guilty look on her face. “It was good.”

William rolled away from her, standing up.

“Don't tell me it was just sex,” William said. “You were attracted to him all along.”

Buffy opened her mouth to refute her husband. Draw the poison, she heard her mother say, then remained silent. He took her silence to mean he was right.

“So it's true then,” William said mock-triumphantly. “You wanted him all along.”

“That's not why I did,” Buffy said, pleadingly. “I did it for us.”

“Don't tell me you did it for us,” William said. “You did it for yourself. You were dying to do it. Dying to sleep with a handsome billionaire. Like some bloody housewife in a romance novel. And me, the fool husband.”

“That's not fair,” Buffy said. “You know I did this for us. For the rest of our lives. Not because I've been dying to scratch some ridiculous Harlequin fantasy itch.”

“I guess you make a deal with the devil,” William said, as if he were alone. “And eventually you pay the price.”

“You're attracted to other women too,” Buffy exclaimed. “If the situation were reversed, I know you wouldn't do it for yourself.”

“You sure about that?” William said, his mouth trembling.

Tell her. Just tell her.

“Of course,” Buffy said. “I trust you Will.”

“Let's say I did,” William said. “Sleep with someone. When you were....gone. Hypothetically. You'd forgive me?”

Buffy hesitated, for an instant.

“Yes,” she said.

“You sure about that?” William asked.

“I promise,” Buffy said, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Can we get past this Will?”

“ I don;t know,” he said, pulling back and out of her reach. In his mind, Buffy had given him a one time get out of jail free card regarding Faith.

“Someday?” she said.

“I don't know Buffy,” he said. “Someday maybe. But not today.”

And with that, he left her sitting on the bedroom floor. Alone, again.

Things had gotten better after their big blowup fight. Just as Buffy thought, it had helped drain some of the poison from their relationship. They began to eat their meals together. Watch Tv together. Read the paper together. But still, there was this distance between them. They slept in seperate rooms. They hardly ever talked. They were never intimate. They barely even touched. They were like two strangers.

And most of all, neither of them ever mentioned the money. Buffy used it sparingly, quietly paying off the overdue bills, including the house. William was making only just about enough to cover their expenses.

Buffy looked at the calendar. It was August. It had been three months since 'the weekend.' She missed William's touch. His smell. Sleeping in his arms. And most of all, she missed making love with him. Sometimes, she caught him looking at her. He had the strangest look on his face. Like he was somewhere else entirely.

One night, Buffy decided to take matters into her own hands. They were watching a movie together on their couch. It started with her moving close to him. Then closer. Then she'd rested her head on his chest. She heard him inhale deeply, felt his chest rise and fall. She placed a soothing hand on his stomach, rubbing his chest.

“Buffy,” William said, his voice raw with emotion, his eyes a kaleidoscope of feeling.

“Shhhh,” she said, looking up at him, then stroking his cheek.

And before he could say anything else, Buffy had raised herself up and gently brushed her lips against his.

William was in heaven. Her lips were so soft. So sweet. She tasted exactly like he'd remembered. God, he'd missed her. He'd missed everything about her. Her smile, her touch, her laugh. But most of all, he'd missed her taste. Her touch. The way she felt against him, burning him wherever she moved. Like a living, breathing flame.

Their mouths opened to allow their tongues to meld together, becoming one again. The kiss that had begun slowly, turned frantic. Their mouths opened wide. Wider. Then wider still, as if to try to swallow each other whole.

Months of deprivation washed all self-control away. Buffy found herself trying to tear off her husband's clothes, desperate to feel his bare skin on hers. All the while wrapping her legs around his waist and vigorously pushing herself into his rock hard groin, whining into his mouth.

William wound one hand deep into Buffy's hair, holding her mouth to his, drinking from her lips and tongue like the lost, parched soul that he was. He didn't need to breathe anymore. This is all the oxygen he ever needed.
Delicious, he thought. Absolutely delicious.

Except it wasn't his voice in his head anymore. Just like it wasn't his lips on hers. His tongue tasting hers. His hands, in her hair. On her bum.

Your beautiful wife is in good hands, he heard a self-satisfied voice say. It was a malicious whisper in William's ear. Nothing will happen that Buffy doesn't want to. I promise.

Buffy felt her husband tense up, then go rigid. She stroked his hair, urging him on, but when that didn't work she dropped her hand onto the fly of his jeans. Suddenly, William's hands were on her wrist, stopping her. And then he was gently disentangling himself from her. Not once did he look at her. And Buffy just stood there, bewildered.

“Will?” Buffy asked, breathing heavily.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, still not looking at her, then seemed to shake his head as if he were clearing some cobwebs. “I just....can't.”

“You,” Buffy said, taking in a deep breath. “You can't?”

“No,” William said, running a hand through his hair and turning away. “I can't. Sorry.”

And he climbed the steps, just leaving here there. In shock. She didn't even know when the tears began to flow, or when it drenched the front of her dress.

The next week....

Buffy waited in the cafe, sipping her non-fat mocha latte. She knew she should have done this ages ago, but she kept putting it off. She needed to talk to Faith. She'd texted her that very morning, asking if they could do lunch. Faith hadn't replied for a while, but eventually she'd texted back, saying yes.

Buffy knew why she'd been avoiding Faith. She was ashamed. Ashamed of what Faith would think of her new found wealth. Despite the fact that Faith had helped broker the deal. That's why she'd been avoiding Faith like a plague. And she suspected why Faith hadn't gotten in touch either. Maybe Faith was, in Buffy's opinion, despite her tough talk about monogamy and her libertarian views on sex, ashamed for her. Embarrassed to be around her.

“Hey B,” she heard Faith say. Buffy looked up. Faith looked, well, kind of anxious about the whole thing. That made Buffy's nerves jangle too.

“Hi,” Buffy said.

“How have you been?” Faith said, sitting down, putting her purse
besides her, giving Buffy a strained smile.

“Good,” Buffy said, hesitantly. “I've been.....good” she finished weakly.

Faith could tell that things were far from good. Buffy's posture was closed. Defensive. Her face looked weary. Her eyes looked grim. Faith's stomach churned a little. She'd wanted to call Buffy so often. But what could she really say?

“Me too,” Faith said. “I've been good. And busy with work ya
know?”

“Still trying to save the world one case at a time?” Buffy asked. Faith looked relieved, happy to pursue a non-threatening topic.

“Always,” Faith said. “I wish you had joined me. We could have had quite the law firm you know. Lehane and Summers, Attorneys at Law.”

Buffy smiled a little at the memories of their time together in college.

“Mom always hated the law,” Buffy said, stroking the base of her coffee cup. “She hated that I followed Dad into it.”

“She'd have understood,” Faith said. “Eventually.”

“Yeah,” Buffy said quietly. “Eventually.”

The silence continued for a moment.

“I wanted to thank you,” Buffy began suddenly.

“What for B?” Faith blinked, unsure of what she meant.

“For helping me with.....” Buffy said. “Everything. For not judging me. For being a real friend.”

Faith's heart began to hammer in her chest. So loudly that she felt sure Buffy could hear it. She opened her mouth to reply, but found herself hoarse. Faith cleared her throat a little, then managed to find her voice.

“You're welcome,” Faith said, Faith's face coloured a little as she began remembering the vivid details of the night in question. In the aftermath of the incident, Faith had fled the scene and buried the entire incident with a weekend of heavy drinking and casual hook-ups. But now, it all came flooding back.

The night in question....

Faith looked down at her purse. It was buzzing. An unknown number from overseas.

Another nigerian prince, Faith thought, rolling her eyes and disconnecting the call, then turned the phone off. Later, when, Faith was a little tipsy and in a cab home, she turned her cellphone on. Instantly, she received a text message.

Hey. Could you please check on Will for me? B

Good old B, Faith chuckled, shaking her head. Off screwing a billionaire but she still can't keep her mind off her loser of a husband.

Instantly, Faith felt a pang of regret at the thought. She hated this cruel part of her, which the booze only seemed to exacerbate.
Moments later, the cab had pulled up to Revello drive. Faith had crept upstairs to find William sleeping. In the buff. She'd gone down and made them both some coffee. Then she'd gone upstairs and stumbled on a drunken, newly awoken William.

“I always knew you were trouble,” Spike said, his voice as rough as his eyes. Faith had made quick work of the towel that was haphazardly clinging to his waist, tossing it up. The brunette's eyes lit up and she grinned like she-demon when she saw the magnificent prick that awaited her. Her hands were on him instantly, gently stroking his shaft and cupping his balls.

“You have no idea blondie,” Faith quipped. Spike pulled Faith's barely there dress down from over her shoulders, allowing her large breasts to come spilling out. His hands were on them instantly, copping a good long feel and tweaking a nipple between a thumb,

“Oh I think I do,” Spike sneered. He dropped a hand down, running it under her skirt. He squeezed a succulent thigh, moved his hands upwards and hissed when his palm made contact with her bare pussy.

“No panties,” Spike whispered. He quipped her quim with his palm and Faith arched into his hand, exhaling loudly. “I bloody well knew it. Saw it. Looked like you'd been gagging for it.”

“You talk too much,” Faith sighed, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. She missed the fleeting tortured look on Spike's face.

Spike's eyes watered.

Could see it on her face. In her eyes. Spike looked into her eyes, which seemed to flash hazel green. Then he blinked again and they were dark. Fucking whore, he thought, his mind sodden with drink. Just a goddamn whore after all. Underneath it all. No matter the facade she put up. Wanting it. Needing it. To be shagged out of her mind.

Spike licked the swell of a breast, then dipped to lap at a nipple with his tongue.

“Yeah,” Faith sighed, stroking the nape of Spike's neck with her palm. “Suck my titties baby. I love it.”

Spike opened his mouth, taking in a whole heap of breast and leisurely sucking on it. Then he gave the same attention to its twin.

“Hey,” Faith protested, when she heard a rip. Spike had just torn off the back of the dress. “That was new. And expensive.”

“Do I look like give a damn?” Spike said, as he was sucking on one of her fat nipples.

“Oh that's right,” Faith mocked. “You can afford it now.”

Spike froze. His blue eyes turned as black as the darkest night. His jawline tightened. His handsome face transformed into something animal like as his lips twisted upwards and stuck. Faith felt just a twinge of danger at having overstepped the line and enraged him. She knew he would make her pay. It made her pussy tingle.

“Yeah,” he sneered. Faith found rough hands turning her around, then pushing her onto her stomach. She tried to push back back but Spike had climbed up her back slightly, pressing his weight down on hers. Then he began ripping the dress from her body, punctuating each tear by boldly thrusting his hips against hers.

“You bet your sweet arse on it princess,” he added, smacking her ass hard enough to make her howl from the combined pleasure and pain.

“It's not my arse that's paying for it, is it?” Faith snipped as Spike positioned himself at the cleft of her ass.

“What?” Spike whispered. Did she just say that? Did she just fucking....

“I hope you weren't saving it for an anniversary,” Faith continued,
thrusting her ass high in the air. “Because I bet that particular cherry gets popped tonight.”

Faith turned back to look at him, made a 'popping' sound with her lips, then ran her tongue over her mouth.

“And licked clean.”

Spike saw red. He roared, then slammed himself full-length inside Faith's pussy.

“Fuck,” Faith screamed, rearing back against him.

“Whore,” Spike sneered, almost pulling out entirely, before slamming in all the way yet again. “Bitch. Fucking bitch.”

Spike's voice broke and tears filled his eyes as he curses
tumbled from his lips. Every degrading curse he could call a woman. Cunt. Whore. Slut. Bitch. And with every name, he thrust harder and harder and faster and faster.

“Close baby,” Faith whined. “Keep going.”

She brought Spike's hand up to chest, filling his hands with her breasts. Spike squeezed them hard enough to draw a pain filled moan, then forcefully pushed down on Faith's shoulders, grabbed her hair and pressed her nose to the ground.

“You think you're going to cum?” Spike said. His voice sounded malicious. No, downright evil. Faith found herself more turned on than she'd ever been. Of all the wild things she'd done, the thought of doing this. Getting screwed by him. Buffy's husband. This somehow seemed the most decadent. The most taboo. God, this was wrong. Just wrong. And that made it delicious.

“No,” Spike growled, pumping his hips expertly with every word. “You... don't.... get..... to....cum.”

Faith tried to use her fingers to get herself off, but Spike was wise to her game. He grabbed Faith's hands then interlocked them with his, leaving her wanting.

“I....should.....have.....known....better,” Faith gasped. “Loser like you. Probably can't even get a woman off....”

Spike only laughed at Faith's feeble effort to manipulate him. Instead he focused on milking the brunette's quim for all it was worth.

“Pull out,” Faith gasped, when she felt him tense up inside her.

“Now where's the fun in that?” Spike asked, slapping Faith's ass as hard as he could and drawing a yelp from her.

“I'm not on the pill asshole,” Faith growled. “Pull.....hunh....out.”
“Not my problem,” Spike said, gritting his teeth and tugging on her hair with his hand. “Princess.”

“I'm....oh.....not.....aaah...... fucking around,” Faith managed to say. “Don't...... cum....inside me.”

“Whores don't get to make demands,” Spike said. And then with a groan, he thrust. Once. Twice. Thrice. Spike's body tensed up. His nerve endings were on fire. And then he uncoiled entirely and with a shout and a sob spilled himself inside her.

Faith whimpered. Motherfucker, she thought. Didn't even get me off. Spike's cock was continuing to milk her pussy, even as she absorbed wave after wave of sticky fluid. And she was still on the edge of orgasm. Spike simply pulled out, wiped himself off with the bedsheet, then sat back and reached for the bottle, drinking deep of it.

Faith made an exasperated sound as she gingerly sat up, then looked down.

“Asshole,” Faith cursed. “Son of a bitch.”

Faith turned around to glare at Spike.
“Look at this,” she said, spreading her legs. “Look at what you
did.”

Spike looked. Her pussy was glistening. Drenched with his cum. Her large milky breasts were red with his rough hand prints. The sight of her made his cock tingle.

You're a right bastard, Spike thought, taking another deep swig.

“I told you not to cum inside me,” Faith said, her voice angry. “Asshole....”

Faith reached for the bedside tissues to try to wipe herself clean, but it was far too much.

“Son of a bitch,” she said, trying to slap Spike but he simply caught her hand. Faith tried to slap him with the other hand, but he caught that as well. Faith tried to pull free, but Spike only chuckled, bending her arm backwards and behind her.

“You could have pulled out and cum on my ass,” Faith said, furiously as she tried to wrestle free. “Bastard.”

“Not as much fun,” Spike smirked.“Plus it did make for a right pretty picture.”

“Ow,” Spike swore as Faith bent her head down, biting his peck. “Crazy bint.”

Spike was about to push her off when Faith suddenly began lapping at his nipple with her tongue. Spike raised an eyebrow as Faith began kissing and licking her way down until she'd reached his hip bones.

“How's this for a pretty picture?” Faith said. And then her pouty red lips were sucking on the head of his cock.

“Faith,” she heard him groan. “Faith.”

“Faith?” Buffy said, snapping the brunette out of her reverie.

“Huh?” Faith blinked. And suddenly she was back to the coffee shop, the memories of that night with Spike melting away.

“You kinda drifted away for a second there,” Buffy said, a quizzical look on her face.

“Five-by-five B,” Faith said, hoping her face wasn't flushed red.

Faith thought she saw something flicker in Buffy's eyes.

“It was no trouble at all,” Faith said warmly, leaning forward to take Buffy's hands in hers.

A moment later, Faith saw Buffy's eyes clear. The blonde relaxed visibly. Faith, perhaps eager to change the topic, strayed where she shouldn't have.

“So how was it?” Faith asked. Buffy froze.

“How was what?” Buffy asked slowly, as if she had no idea what Faith was talking about.

“Oh come on B,” Faith rolled her eyes. “You spent a weekend with a hot billionaire. That's practically a romance novel waiting to be written.”

“I.....” Buffy began, then squirmed uncomfortably. “I don't want to talk about it.”

“Argh,” Faith said. “Fine. Don't talk about it.”

Buffy exhaled, as Faith sulked for a moment.

“Just one thing,” Faith began.

“What?” Buffy asked, rubbing her temples.

“Was he good?” Faith asked, despite herself.

Buffy found herself lost for words. Faith pressed on her advantage.

“He was, wasn't he?” Faith said, with a grin.

“He...” Buffy trailed off as the memory of that night came flooding back. “He was...”

And Buffy couldn't help but remember...

Buffy and Xander stood at the edge of the bed. Buffy felt her knees tremble slightly from the anxiety. She could feel the back of her thighs hitting the bedpost. This was it. There was no turning back now. Her stomach was a roiling uncertainty of emotion.

I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought as Xander took her hands then guided them around his neck. Sleeping with someone, she thought. For money.

Buffy flinched when she felt his warm hands on her waist. He stroked them for a moment, then gently grasped her waist.
Buffy felt her cheeks flush slightly when she saw him cock his head to one side and appraise her. Like an object. A prize. His prize.

She felt a flash of anger and that made her cheeks red, which only seemed to inflame his ardour. Xander's eyes ran down her beautiful long hair, enjoying how it glowed gold in the bedroom light. Then he ran his eyes over her face. Her beautiful green eyes. Her gorgeous cheeks. Her perfect tiny nose.

Buffy saw his eyes drop to fixate on her glossy lips, saw his mouth part slightly as his tongue flickered against his lower lip.
And then he was looking into her eyes and now Buffy was sure her cheeks were red. She saw want. Just pure, unabashed want. Shining in his brown eyes.

Not just someone, she heard William's voice inside her head. Him. You're sleeping with him.

And how does that that makes it worse? she asked.

You know how, she heard William's voice hiss. You fucking whore.

Buffy didn't get a chance to argue with the voices in her head. All that had happened in just a moment. Suddenly she found herself off her feet...

Xander had been content to draw out the moment. Letting the tension build in Buffy's mind as he savoured his victory. She'd been so many things to him already. The stunning blonde he'd first seen in his hotel lobby. He'd been fascinated by her, wondered what type of woman she was.

A trophy wife, he'd been willing to bet. One of those women. A snooty, uptight blonde who was looking for the BBD. The bigger better deal. That would have been the easiest way into her pants. She'd have dropped her husband like a bad habit for a weekend in his bed. If she pleased him enough, he'd eventually keep her around for a few months. Until he'd tired of her.

But then Xander found out all about her. The girl next door. A good girl. Kind. Gentle. Moral. Sweet. Practically married her high school sweetheart before he broke her heart, then married her best friend. A devoted wife, by all accounts. Very much in love with her husband.

And that had intrigued Xander even more. The idea of getting that girl into his bed. Away from her husband. The idea had taken a hold of him. It haunted his dreams and waking thoughts and had led him down this path.

To here, Xander thought. To me and Buffy. Alone at last.
Xander never ceased to be amazed by the power of money. It had never let him down. Well, once. He'd been disappointed by their reaction to his more than generous offer. That defiant act had lit a fire under Xander and he'd vowed to bed the beautiful blonde. So he'd waited. And then, finally, an opportunity had presented itself. And Xander had been waiting.

And now here is, Xander crowed mentally. Buffy Summers. The good girl. The girl next door. In my arms. In my bed. And then he realized that she wasn't in his bed yet. And that he couldn't wait another second. So Xander picked Buffy up, guiding her legs around his waist.

Buffy and Xander tumbled onto the bed. Somehow, Buffy landed on top of him. Xander immensely enjoying the delicious friction of their bodies rubbing up against each other. He wanted to draw Buffy out of her shell, to make her a part of this. He was determined that she enjoy this as much as he was intended to. Nothing less would suffice than his complete victory over her. The girl in question's eyes were shut. Her knuckles were turning white as they clutched the bedsheet.

Buffy tried to clear her mind. Tried to control her unsteady breathing through her Yoga lessons. But it didn't seem to work. She could feel his breath on hers, his hands on her skin, his hard body underneath hers.

Xander cupped her chin, then raised it so that he could once again, look upon her face. He examined every inch of her countenance. That smooth forehead. Those flawless cheeks. A perfect little nose. And those lips. Forever glossy and kissable. A siren's song if he ever saw one.

He was a collector surveying an exquisite painting. Devouring it with his eyes. He'd been with tons of beautiful women. He was a rich billionaire. Beautiful women practically threw themselves at him. But there was something different about this one. Something he couldn't put into words.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, turning his mouth upwards for a kiss. Buffy's eyes opened at that declaration and seemed to flare. Just for an instant. Seeing that fiery look aroused Xander even further than he already was, but it was quickly gone, and her eyes were contemptous. Green pools of ice. Xander promised himself that he would see those icy hues melt into a puddle before the night
was out.

Xander ghosted Buffy's lips with his own as he stroked her shoulders with his fingers, running his hands down her smooth back, intending to remove the already slackened bra as he dropped his gaze to her cleavage.

Buffy's breath quickened and her nose flared as Xander licked his lips and admired the swell of her breasts. She reacted on instinct—scooting backwards and away from danger, leaving him grasping thin air.

“Don't,” she said, her lips quivering. Her cheeks flushed.

Buffy knew she had to. But she couldn't deal with it. With him. Looking at her. With his eyes. Not at this moment.

“Okay,” Xander said, surprising her, his hand dropping to his side.

Okay? Buffy thought bewildered momentarily. Then a slow grin formed on his lips.

“You take it off,” Xander said, moving back to rest his back against the heardboard. “Slowly.”

Buffy swallowed. Her eyes flickered to the bright bedside lights.
“The....the lights,” Buffy stammered, glancing at them.

Xander raised a brow.

“I can't,” Buffy said. “Not with the lights on.”

“That,” Xander said, languidly throwing his arms behind his head.
“Wasn't part of the deal.”

And then he looked at her expectantly. Buffy swallowed. This was a million times harder than she'd ever thought it could be. At least with the lights off she could pretend he was a college boyfriend or something. So she didn't have to look at him. Know it was him.

“Please,” she said, hating herself for saying the word. To him. A man she loathed.

Xander seemed to weigh her words for a moment.

“Fine,” he said finally, surprising her.

Buffy couldn't believe it. He was agreeing?

“But,” Xander added with a small smirk. “On one condition.”

Buffy's heart dropped. She knew it had been too good to be true.

“What?” she croaked, finding her throat incredibly dry.

“Kiss me,” Xander demanded.

Buffy's eyes narrowed. He wanted her to kiss him?

You wish, Buffy wanted to retort, but she wisely bit her tongue. Fine she thought. He'd get one closed mouth peck. Nothing more.

Xander took Buffy's silence as an acceptance of his terms. Buffy looked pointedly over at the bedside light, whose soft golden glow was illuminating the otherwise nearly pitch dark room.

Xander followed her gaze, then impatiently clucked his tongue. Buffy saw him reach behind the headboard, dimming the light way way down. He gave her one last longing look, then Buffy heard a click. And then there was only near pitch-darkness. And just the two of them.

“Take it off,” he said. Buffy hesitated a moment, then obeyed, sliding her bra down her arms and disposing of it, though she continued to cover herself with an arm.

A long, silent moment passed.

“Buffy,” she heard him say. Heard the impatience in his tone.

Buffy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

You have to, she thought. For us. Otherwise we lose everything.

So Buffy began moving across the bed. She sensed Xander's hands reaching for her and let out a half sob-half shaky breath when she felt his fingers on her skin.

I'm sorry William, she couldn't help but think, as Xander pulled her down and onto his lap, guiding her hands around his shoulders. I'm so sorry.

Buffy tried to avoid brushing up against his chest, but Xander seemed wise to her ploy, running his hand up between her shoulder blades, then pushing down gently until her breasts were smushed up against his chest.

“You feel amazing,” Xander whispered, conspiratorially. As if to remind her of what she was doing. With whom.

Xander was in heaven. God, the feeling of her in his arms. Her breasts against his chest. He could feel her nipples rubbing up against his pecks, burning him wherever they touched. Jesus the things he wanted to do to her. With her. Have her do to him.

Wait, he reminded himself. Wait for it. Wait for the moment. Buffy gritted her teeth, trying desperately to block out all feeling and sensation.

“Kiss me,” she heard him say. She could see the outline of his face inches away from her. Buffy grimaced, in the darkness. Despite the fact he couldn't see her. The kiss.

You were hoping he'd forgotten? she heard a voice that seemed to perfectly mimic Faith's mocking tone. It's just a kiss B. No biggie.

Yes, Buffy thought. It's just a kiss. One measly kiss.
So Buffy leaned in slowly, closing her eyes and followed the sounds of his breathing.

But it's not, is it, she heard another voice say. A different, sorrowful voice. It's not just a bloody kiss. It's my....

But that distinctive sound in Buffy's ear was cut short by another sound. A short wet sound. Only moments later did Buffy realize what that sound was. It was the sound of her lips smacking against Xander's.

“Mmmmm,” Xander breathed, loving the feel of her petal soft mouth against his. He puckered his mouth, wanting to taste all of her sweetness, rejoicing at how delicious she was. She tasted better than he could have ever imagined.

And there's so much to taste, Xander thought, letting his imagination run wild for a moment, before he reigned himself back in.

Have fun rolling around in my money Willy, Xander thought. Because I'm sure as hell going to enjoy rolling around with your wife.

It took a short moment for Buffy to begin feeling his mouth against hers.

Soft, Buffy thought. It was the first thought that came to her mind. No, was the second thought. No, no, no

She reeled back, separating their mouths for a moment, gasping for air, but then Xander's hand was on the back of her head and pulling her lips back to his.

“Mphh,” Buffy protested into his mouth. But then she remembered. The deal. The money. So she simply stopped fighting.

Buffy didn't know how it had happened. Or when it happened. When one kiss ended and another began. And another. Soon, she lost count of the kisses he'd taken from her. Or had she given them to him? She didn't know anymore. All she knew is that there had been a thousand kisses in the darkness. Until she could have been kissing anyone. Anyone but him. That was when she'd begun losing herself.

“Buffy,” he slurred around her lips.

“Shhh,” Buffy mumbled, pressing her finger to his lips. The voice would take away the darkness. She needed the darkness. The darkness made things easier. Who was to say that things that happened in the dark had really even happened? It could all be a dream.

That's right, Buffy thought. Just a dream. Her hands became bolder. Running over his shoulders experimentally. Through his hair.

His hands became bolder too. Running down her back. Cupping her ass.

Then they began divesting each other of what little clothing remained, their breathing becoming heavier and heavier. His shorts were the first to be tossed overboard, followed by her panties. And then they were in each other's arms and he was laying her down in the middle of the bed.

“C....condom,” she whispered, a firm hand on his chest.

He grunted with impatience, then reached over to the nightstand, his hand grasping only air.

“Dammit,” he said, flicking on the light switch. Xander gritted his
teeth. There was not a single condom in sight. Someone was getting fired for this. Xander shot Buffy an apologetic look, then opened the drawer. Bingo he thought, picking one out between his thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck you're gorgeous,” Xander said, ripping the packet open
with his teeth, loving the dazed look on Buffy' face.

Buffy's eyes felt heavy. The light. It was bright. Too bright. Golden. Blinding. She blinked for a moment. Then another. Her eyes began to focus again.

Where am I? she thought, bewildered. The ripping sound brought Buffy back to her senses. The sight of Xander opening the condom and lowering it between his legs snapped her out of it.

“I've been thinking about this since I saw you,” Xander said. Two steps later he was climbing up her body. Buffy responded by pushing him off and scooting away from him.

“No,” she said, grabbing the bedsheet and covering herself with it. “Stop.”

The smile melted from Xander's face.

“No?” he said slowly.

“No,” she said quickly. “I can't.”

“You can't,” Xander repeated.

“No,” Buffy said. “I can't.”

A moment of silence held.

“Why?” Xander said incredulously.

“Because I love my husband,” Buffy said, half-stammering.
“Because I can't betray him. I thought I could do this. Without it meaning.....something.....everything....but I can't.”

Buffy didn't know what to expect next. Maybe that he would attack her. They were in a hotel room after all. His hotel room. And she'd come with him willingly. In a manner of speaking.

You whored yourself out, she heard Spike's bitter voice say. Who would believe you if you cried rape?

Buffy tightened the bedsheet around herself. She wasn't going to give in without a fight.

And then Xander began laughing. Hysterically. So much so that he rolled onto the floor.

“What?” Buffy said, bewildered. But he didn't stop. He laughed until there were tears coming out of his eyes.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” she said, shaking her head, trying not to look at him. “Have you completely lost your mind.”

Finally, Xander sat with his back against the bed, all laughed out. He wiped his eyes, then chuckled.

“You,” he said. “You wouldn't understand.”

“I don't want to understand,” Buffy said miserably. “I just want to go home. And forget this ever happened.”

Xander's shoulders tensed. Forget this ever happened? No, that wouldn't do. Not at all. Xander was silent after that, for so long that Buffy began to freak out.

“Okay,” Xander said, surprising Buffy. “If that's what you want....”
Buffy blinked. He was okay with that?

“But you know....all your money problems won't just melt away,” he said.

Buffy hated to admit it, but Xander was right. They were in deep.

“We'll figure it out,” she said, hoping she sounded a lot more convincing than she felt. “I just can't......do this.”

“What if you could keep the money?” Xander said.

“What?” Buffy said.
“The money,” Xander said. “Keep it. All of it. ”

“I don't want your money,” Buffy spat.

“I'm serious,” Xander said, turning around, still sitting on the floor. “You can keep the money. Without anything happening tonight.”

Buffy knew she shouldn't bite. But she was curious.

“How?” she said.

“Simple,” Xander said. “All you have to do is go home. And stay faithful to your husband for a whole year.”

This time, it was Buffy's turn to laugh. It was a hollow laugh, devoid of joy and feeling and at this moment it was all she could manage.

“You're out of your mind,” she said.

“Maybe,” Xander smiled. “Shall we bet?”

Buffy looked at him goggly-eyed.

“Fine,” she said. “It's a bet.”

“Oh,” Xander said. “There's just one small condition.”

“Which is?” Buffy.

“You can't tell him about what happened here....” Xander began.

“Nothing happened,” Buffy said hotly.

She knew that technically wasn't true. But she didn't care. As far as she was concerned, nothing had happened. They didn't even really do any....stuff. Not really.

“You can't tell him what didn't happen here,” Xander amended. “Until this day next year.”

Buffy looked at the calendar. It was June. A year? For ten million dollars? Buffy knew she ought to wipe her hands clean of the whole affair, but as Xander had said, she really needed the money. And then Buffy found herself rationalizing things.

I can tell Will in a year, she reasoned. We can deal with it. Our love is stronger than that. Than just...the thought of infidelity.
The word 'no' was on the tip of her tongue. Buffy managed to open her mouth. But the smug look on his face changed her mind.

“Fine,” she said.

“And just to make sure,” Xander said. “There'll be a polygraph test. Every month.”

“Fine,” Buffy said. “A year.”

“Goodnight Buffy,” Xander said, standing up. He chuckled when she averted her eyes.

“I'll see you soon,” Xander said. She heard the lights click out, then heard his footsteps walk away. Buffy sat there in the darkness for the longest time. Not moving a muscle. She didn't know if she was afraid he'd return. She locked the door behind her, then went back to bed. She didn't know when sleep claimed her.

“Buffy,” she heard Faith say. “Yo. B.”

“Where were you?” Faith said. “You looked dreamy eyed for a minute there.”

“I was.....right here,” Buffy said, staring down at her coffee.
“Mmm hmmmm,” Faith said. “That good huh?”

Buffy had to bite back the reply at the tip of her tongue. That she never found out. That she didn't want to. Buffy looked up at the Sunnydale firm owned, where she had an appointment to give a polygraph. And Buffy gave the only answer she could.

“Yes,” Buffy said, never looking up from her coffee. “He was good.”

“So,” Tara began, looking at her newest clients. “Someone should probably talk.” Tara noticed how Buffy and William were sitting on the sofa opposite her—and as far away from each other as possible. Clearly there was something deeply wrong in their relationship.
“I,” Buffy began. “I really don't know where to begin.”
“The beginning is a really good place to start,” Tara said, with a little smile, hoping to lighten the mood. But the joke sank without a trace. Not a flicker of a smile appeared on either Buffy or William's faces.
“We were on a trip to Vegas,” Buffy began. Tara noted how William's jaw tightened, how his body tensed up. Buffy had her arms crossed protectively in front of her, indicating a traditional defensive posture about the entire matter as she launched into the cliff notes version of her story.
Tara tried to keep a professional look on her face, taking notes from time to time, even as the fantastical story unfolded in front of her. William never said a word the entire time, and Tara kept glancing at him. He was staring off into a distance, trying to block out as much of the tale as he could.
“And that's how we got here,” Buffy finished, rather tamely.
If Tara had been at home, she would have grabbed a large tub of Hagendaaz from her freezer and absolutely devoured it. But she was in 'professional mode' and as such, was determined to analyze the situation as best as she could.
“I see,” Tara said, finishing her scribbling on the pad. She was gripping the pencil so hard she was afraid it would snap in her hand.
“Do you have anything to say William?” Tara asked him.
“No,” he said gruffly.
Buffy looked away, pained, then bit her lip as if trying to hold back a comment.
“How do you feel?” Tara asked William, who took in a heavy breath, then shook his head. Tara could see he couldn't trust himself to speak.
“Hurt?” Tara prompted. He nodded, ever so slightly. “Betrayed?” He nodded again.
“I didn't betray...” Buffy protested hotly. Tara stopped her with a hand.
“I didn't say you betrayed William Buffy. I'm asking William how he feels.”
Tara's voice was kind, yet Buffy couldn't help but feel hurt by the accusation.
“That's not fair,” Buffy said, her voice trembling a little. “We both agreed.”
“Feelings aren't fair Buffy,” Tara explained. “They're just....feelings.”
Silence....
“The difference is,” William said. “You wanted to do it. Didn't you?”
“Is that what you think?” Buffy asked. “That I was some bored housewife........”
“I did it for us,” Buffy said. “You have to know that.”
“Oh come on Buffy,”William let out a short sharp laugh. “You're not still on that bend are you? You know it wasn't all about the money.”
“Did you want to?” Tara interjected. “Because its okay if you did.”
Buffy and William both looked at their therapist, googly eyed.
“Partners have these......desires all the time,” Tara said. “There's nothing wrong with it.”
“I'm just tired of this,” Buffy said. “Tired of being judged. Tired of fighting.”
“You can't change the past,” Tara said, looking at William. Whatever happened....happened.”
“You have to make a choice,” she said, quietly, looking at Buffy. “You can either let this destroy your relationship. Or you can move on.”
Suddenly, William's phone rang.
“Excuse me,” he said gruffly, as he left the room.
“You didn't answer the question Buffy,” Tara said. “Did you want to ?”
Buffy opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by her husband poking his head through the door.
“Have to go,” he said. “Work.”
He didn't wait for Buffy to say goodbye, just turned on his heels and left.
William pulled up to the building in a cab. He took the elevator up to the fourth floor, apartment 3b. The door was slightly ajar.
“Come in,” he heard her say.
William shut his eyes, took a deep breath then walked in.
Faith was sitting on her couch, waiting for him.
“Hey baby,” Faith said. “Glad you could make it.”
“What do you want Faith?” William said.


“Actually,” Faith said, coming close to him. “You have something I want.”
Faith attempted to get close to William, but he stepped back.
“Oh come on,” Faith said. “Don't be like that. You might hurt my feelings.”
William heard something in her voice that he didn't like.
“Excuse me?” he said.
“I said you'll hurt my feelings. You don't want to hurt my feelings do you?” Faith said, leaning back on her dining table. “Because then I might cry. And then I'd have to call Buffy and who knows what I could blurt out...”
And then he was moving quicker than he'd ever thought possible. His hand was around Faith's throat.
“Shut up,” he snarled. “You don't say a fucking word to Buffy.”
“Or you'll do what?” Faith croaked “Kill me?”
Spike thought about it for a second, then let go.
“You're pathetic,” Spike said.
Faith rubbed her throat for a moment.
“I can't stop thinking about it,” Faith said, confessionally, beginning to discard her clothing. “All the things we did. Do you remember what we did Spike?”
Spike grit his teeth. He knew he couldn't afford to antagonize her. She had him over a barrel.
“Things nobody knows about,” Faith said, stripping down to her bra and panties. “Things no one will ever know about.”
“No,” Spike shook his head, even as Faith took his hand, then placed it on her ass.
“Nobody has to know,” Faith urged. “Nobody gets hurt.”
“I can't,” Spike said.
“I've never been fucked like that,” Faith whispered.
Spike blinked.
“What?” he said. Those words. They were so familiar. Where had he heard those words? It came to him like a blinding flash of lightning. They were her words. Words she'd said to him. After she'd returned. And then a thought struck him. Buffy and Faith, sitting at this very table. Those very words coming out of his wife's mouth.
“I've never been fucked like that,” she said. He could hear the malicious glee in her voice. Could see the smile on her face. “That hard. That good. That long. I'm getting wet just thinking about it.” And then he could hear her laughing. Like she'd never laughed before. A cruel mocking laugh.
Of course he remembered those words. He'd tried to bury them. Dismissed them. She'd only been trying to hurt him. She'd admitted as much after. But the words haunted him. How could they not?
“I've never been fucked like that,” Faith was saying again. And again. And again. Or was Buffy saying those words? He just didn't know.
And Spike snapped. He grabbed Faith, spinning her around, then roughly bent her over the table.
“Want to get fucked do you?” he snarled in her ear. “Is that what you want?”
“Yeah” Faith grinned, loving his roughness. “Come on. Do it.”
Spike shrugged off his suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor. He kept Faith pinned to the table with one hand, even as he unzipped himself and let his pants fall to his ankles. Faith heard the fabric of her underwear rip as Spike tore it from her body.
“Oooh,” Faith purred. “You're such an animal. I fucking love it.”
“Shut up,” Spike snarled, smacking her ass hard enough to make her howl.
“Uh-huh,” Faith begged, when she felt his cock slide against the crack of her ass. “Come on. Put it in me baby.”
“Oooh,” Faith whimpered, when she felt his rough hand grab her breast. God, it was going to be sore tomorrow. “Unh. Come on. I need you inside me.”
God, Spike thought. What the fuck am I doing.
“Come on,” Faith whined. “Please.”
And then she felt him trying to move away. Faith held onto his hands, which were around her waist.
“I can't,” William said.
“Come on,” Faith said. “Stop teasing me okay. I'm fucking dying here.”
“No,” William said. “I'm sorry Faith. I can't do this.”
“Put it in,” Faith said. Her voice sounded deadly. It wasn't a request. It was an order.
“I told you,” William began.
“I don't fucking care what you said,” Faith snarled. “You don't get to treat me like shit whenever you feel like it.”
“I'm sorry Faith,” William said, trying to disengage with her.
“Fuck you,” Faith screamed. “You sure as hell didn't seem sorry when you were cumming in my mouth the other night.”
“That was a mistake,” William said, trying to pull back on his pants. “I was....upset. And drunk. It never should have happened.”
“Come back here and fuck me,” Faith said. “Or I swear to god, the next call I make......”
“You're right,” William said. “She should know. She deserves the truth at least.”
“You stupid son-of-a-bitch!” Faith said, her eyes narrowing. “You know the only difference between me and your precious Buffy?”
“Shut up Faith,” William said. He knew full well that Faith was just trying to rile him up, but he couldn't help but get angry.
“I'll swallow cum and love it. That makes me a slut,” Faith said icily. “But Buffy waited until the ten million dollar cheque cleared. Or was that your idea?”
“You're pathetic,” William said.
“Get out,” Faith said, shoving him backwards. She couldn't believe her final gambit had failed. “Just get the fuck out of here.”
Faith grabbed his jacket and flung it at him.
“Oh and FYI,” Faith said. “She told me it was the best fuck she'd ever had.”
And with that she slammed the door in his face. William called in sick at the office. And then he went to the nearest bar and drank until he was sure he was going to be sick. When he got home, he stumbled up to her room. He was in the guest room. Still. He turned the knob but the door was locked. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to confess. But he knew she deserved better than this. He resolved to speak to her tomorrow. It seemed easier. Tomorrow. So he stumbled into his room and fell asleep.
Buffy was curled up in her bed. Her cheeks wet. Her tongue salty. She kept replaying the memory. Over and over again.
She had walked upto Faith's apartment when she saw the door slightly open. She almost called out Faith's name when she heard her friend's voice.
“I can't stop thinking about it. All the things we did.”
Buffy could hear the tone in her friend's voice. She smiled to herself. Well, a little afternoon delight never hurt anyone. She took a half-step and turned, trying to be as silent as possible.
“Do you remember what we did Spike?”
That word froze her to the spot. No. Buffy hadn't heard that. She couldn't have. Could she?
“Things nobody knows about,” Faith said again. “Things no one will ever know about.”
She heard it then. Her husband's voice. It sounded like 'No'. But what was Faith talking about? What things? What had they done?
“Nobody has to know. Nobody gets hurt.”
Buffy's heart was pounding so hard she was afraid it would burst through her chest. She took a shaky step forward, braced herself and peeped.
They were standing by the table. Faith was in her bra and panties. His hand was on her ass.
Buffy's brain searched for a way to make sense of this. This couldn't be what it looked like. Could it? This was a mistake. All of it. Just a big mistake. She was about to step forward, but what Faith said knocked the wind out of her.
“I've never been fucked like that,” she heard Faith say.
Buffy didn't know how long she stood there. Dazed. His sudden movement broke the spell. She saw him grab Faith, spin her around and bend her over the table.
“Want to get fucked do you?” he snarled. “Is that what you want?”
“Yeah,” she heard the brunette say. “Come on. Do it.”
She saw her husband shrug off his suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor, even as he kept Faith pinned to the table with one hand. Then he unzipped himself and let his pants fall to his ankles. Buffy wanted to look away. It was like watching a car accident. She couldn't look away. And suddenly he'd ripped the underwear from her body.
“Oooh,” Faith purred. “You're such an animal. I fucking love it.”
“Shut up,” Spike snarled, smacking Faith's ass. When Buffy saw her husband's place his cock against Faith's ass she let out a shaky sob. Buffy covered her mouth horrified.
The last things she heard was Faith say 'Come on. Put it in me baby. I need you inside me.'
And Buffy had heard enough. This time, she didn't care how loud her steps were. How hard she was crying. She fled. She sat in the stairwell, crying hysterically. She cried and she cried and she cried. And then when there were no tears left she walked home. Slowly. She didn't remember when she locked her room or crawled into bed, getting under the covers. The next thing she heard was the sound of her bedroom knob turning. She ignored it, praying it would go away. It did. And Buffy gave herself to sleep.

When William awoke she was gone. The house was empty. He had a splitting headache and downed an aspirin. He knew he would have to tell her. Tonight, he decided. He'd tell her tonight. And let the chips fall as they may. He at least owed her the truth. He went to work as usual, glancing at his phone from time to time. She remained incommunicado. It wasn't unusual. The only time they'd ever talked anymore was at home. Awkard half conversations. Stilted. It had never been this way.

Finally, at around 10 pm, he could take no more.

“Where are you?” he texted her.

“Out with the old college gang. Crash at Cordys.”

William scrunched up his nose. Cordelia Chase? He hated that bint, mainly because she was old money and had always thought Buffy was too good for him. William began texting Buffy back, but then changed his mind and decided to call her. The phone just rang and rang and rang. Just when he was about to give up, she answered the phone.

“Hey,” he heard Buffy say.

“Hey,” William said. “I just wanted to say.... Hi.”

She said nothing.

“I know things have been.....” William began. But words failed him.
“I'm sorry Buffy.”

“It's okay,” she said finally. But William knew there was a false ring to her tone.

“I'm going to try,” William said. “To get past.....things. To move on. To let go. I owe you.....the truth.”

“Truth?” Buffy said. He could hear a slight catch in her voice. “What truth?”

Face to face. William thought. Not over the phone.

“The truth is,” William said.

God. He wanted to tell her. So much. But not like this.

He could hear her on the other end of the line. Waiting. For
something.

“The truth is I love you,” he said. “More than anything.”

“I know,” Buffy said finally. “Me too. Bye”

And with that she hung up the phone. William just stared at the
cellphone in his hand.

Tomorrow, he thought. The truth. Tomorrow. Something faint prickled at the back of his neck, but before he could give it a thought, his office door had opened.

“Mr Wolfram wants to see you Mr Pratt,” a pimply-faced intern said. “And bring the Ledermen files please.”

William swore under his breath. He swept up the files with one hand and tucked them under his arm as he began revising the facts of the case, pushing everything else out his head, including Buffy.

Hours later, William arrived home, exhausted. The house was empty. He didn't even bother undressing, he just plonked down on his bed, resting his head on the pillow and shutting his eyes. William relaxed, even as he drifted off to sleep. His mind turned to Buffy and he began remembering the last conversation they had.

College gang....Cordy.....I love you.....Me too

Me too. William heard those words in his head. Again and again. Me too.

They sounded....wrong...and yet so familiar. And yet. He just couldn't place his finger on it. The words rang in his head again and again as he began losing the battle to sleep. Suddenly, William jolted upright.

“I love you,” he said, blinking. “Me too.”

And then he remembered a conversation they'd had. Years ago. Lying in bed. After they'd made love. Her head on his chest. Discussing their past.

“I love you,” Buffy said, rubbing his face against her cheek. “That's what I told him. After we had......you know....the first time.”

William had held her tight, making shushing sounds, soothing her.

“And do you know what he told me?” Buffy said. William knew it was a rhetorical question.

“He said 'me too.' ” Buffy said, with a strangled sob. “Like I wasn't worthy of his love. Like I was beneath him.”

“Hey,” William whispered, raising her chin. “You're bloody not beneath anyone.”

“I'm tired of being hurt Will,” she said, her eyes welled up with tears.

“I'd never hurt you,” William said, kissing her tears, then her cheeks, then her lips.

“Swear it,” Buffy mumbled, playing with his hair.

The lovers continued to exchange small soft kisses between their already swollen lips.

“Swear that you love me,” she said. “That you'll never hurt me.”

“I swear,” William slurred.

“Say it,” she demanded. Her eyebrows knitting. Her nose crinkling.

Petulantly. Like she was a little girl. Nibbling on his bottom lip for good measure. God he loved her more than life itself.

“I'll never hurt you,” he said, stroking her cheeks with his thumb. “I promise.”

“Good,” Buffy said. “Because if you do. I'll rip your heart out.”

That thought jerked William back to the present. Just a coincidence, he thought. It didn't mean anything. So she said 'me too.' She'd probably said that thousands of times over the years. But try as he might, William couldn't recall a single instance of that ever happening. Part of it was Buffy was such an emotional creature. Needy even. Always needing to be reassured of his love. Constantly reassuring William that she loved him.

It was the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him reach for his cellphone. He dialled Buffy's number, but found it turned off. William felt his shoulders tense up a little. He searched his phone, but didn't have Cordelia's number. So he rolled out of bed and began rummaging through their drawer, swearing under his breath.

“You're overreacting mate,” William said, trying to reassure himself.

“It's prolly nothing. Gonna drive yourself crazy.”

He found Buffy's blue diary, where wrote down all the phone numbers the old fashioned way, then thumbed through it, frantically searching for Cordelia. When he found it he just stared at the number, hoping they would reveal something.

“You're being crazy,” William said, aloud. “Just.....go back to bed.”

He looked at the clock. It was 4am. He'd probably wake everyone up and Buffy would never let him hear the end of it.

Fuck it, William thought.

His fingers shook as he began dialling the numbers.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang.

“Hello,” he heard a tired voice say. An obnoxious tired voice.

“Cordelia,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Who is this?” he heard her whine. Shrill bitch, he thought.

“William,” he said.

“Who?” Cordelia said. “And do you know even what fucking time it is?”

“Buffy's husband,” William said.

“Okay,” Cordelia said.

“And?”

“Buffy....” William began, then caught himself. His mind whirred. If
Buffy staying over at Cordelia's, she would already have passed her the phone. Which meant that Buffy wasn't at Cordelia's. Which meant that Buffy had lied to him. William already knew this, but his mind wouldn't accept it. He knew how pathetic it would sound, but he couldn't stop the words from tumbling from his lips.

“She......she told me she was staying over at your place,” William said.

There was a moment of silence and then he heard a barely concealed derisive snort of laughter.

“Oh yeah,” Cordelia said, not even trying to pretend she was lying.
“She's in the guest bedroom, sleeping off a hangover. Should I go wake her up?”

“No,” William said. “I....I'll talk to her in the morning. Thanks.”

“I'm sure you two will have a lot to talk about tomorrow,” Cordelia said, unable to hide the mirth in her voice. “Night
night.”

And with that she hung up the phone. William sat down on the bed, shaking his head. Buffy lied. She'd lied to him. But why? And where was she? William looked at the clock. It was 4am. William just sat there, wondering what to do.

Earlier that evening...

“I love you,” William said.

“I know,” Buffy said, after a pause. “Me too.”

And with that she disconnected the call, turning her phone off on airplane mode, cutting off communication with the world. She took a deep breath, firing up some music on her Iphone as she placed the phone by the bedside. One of her favourite songs began blaring out of the tiny yet powerful speakers. Buffy shut her eyes, letting the lyrics wash over her. Slowly, subtly, Buffy felt her emotions shift. The heated anger she felt in the aftermath of Faith's confession had been replaced by a cold, calculating fury as she'd considered her options. In the end, she'd settled on the only one she knew would cut her husband. Right to the bone.

I'll be your light, your match, your burning sun
I'll be bright, in black, that's making you run
And we'll feel alright and we'll feel alright,
Cause we'll work it out, yeah we'll work it out
I'll be doing this, if you had a doubt
Till the love runs out

That was how Xander found her when he walked into his bedroom. The sight froze him in his tracks. Buffy was lying on his bed, strategically surrounded by comfortable pillows, in just a glossy black raincoat made of the finest silk.

“Alone at last,” Buffy said, her voice low and sultry, her eyes hooded and dark.

That was how Xander found her when he walked into his bedroom. The sight froze him in his tracks. Buffy was lying on his bed, strategically surrounded by comfortable pillows, in just a glossy black raincoat made of the finest silk.

“Alone at last,” Buffy said, her voice low and sultry, her eyes hooded and dark.

Xander feasted his eyes. Her golden hair was shiny and bouncy and styled perfectly. Not a strand out of place. Her face had been expertly made-up, drawing attention to her flawless cheeks, cute as a button nose and her glossy pink lips.

“Buffy,” Xander exhaled. “Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh I'll give you a lot more than that,” she promised, amusement dancing behind her green eyes at the look on his face. As if all his prayers had been answered.

Buffy raised up her right leg, rubbing it against her left calf to draw Xander's attention to her long smooth legs. They were glistening golden with oil and sweat and seemed to last forever. Xander noted the six-inch pumps at the end of her feet. They screamed 'fuck me' but don't you dare take these off.

Xander licked his lips as his erection swelled to full mast in record time. But even now, Xander couldn't turn off the calculating part of him. Buffy was a beautiful woman, but she had spent a hell of a lot of money to look this damn good. This was about more than just sex. This was something else entirely. But Xander didn't really care at that moment. Buffy had come to his bed of her own free will and he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the sack. And judging by the hungry look on her face, Buffy wanted it bad. Needed it.

Correction Xander crowed. Wants me. Needs me. Only me.

And as much as Xander had thought about this moment, he knew it would be even better if he took his time to savour it.

“How did you get in here?” Xander said, conversationally, taking off his jacket and hanging it over a nearby chair.

“Come on,” Buffy pouted. “It's a party. Aren't you going to unwrap your present?”

That wasn't the reception she'd been expecting. She thought he'd trip all over himself as he tried to undress in record time and get into bed.

Buffy decided to turn the heat up, biting her lip and striking a come hither pose. She smoothened down the raincoat, letting the material bunch up tightly over her chest so Xander could see her nipples strain against the fabric.

“Tell me how,” Xander said, deliberately, undoing his tie, never taking his eyes off her nipples.

Buffy sighed.

“I slipped your doorman a thousand dollar note,” Buffy said impatiently. “You should fire him.”

“I'm giving him a raise,” Xander said, beginning to undo his sleeves.

Buffy couldn't help but give a tiny smile and Xander saw the facade fall for just a moment. The next moment it was back and Buffy was playing the part of the temptress.

“So what changed?” Xander asked, taking two steps forward until he was right by the bedside. Buffy sat up, beginning to undo the buttons on the front of his shirt.

“I heard you were in town,” Buffy said, as he wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her close. “And I guess I was surprised how glad I was.”

“Uh-huh” Xander said, sounding unconvinced. But at this moment, he was enjoying the feel of her body against his a little too much to ponder on that thought.

“It's funny,” Buffy said. Xander was close enough to see her beautiful green eyes cloud over for a moment. She bent her head, teasing his lips with hers, then pulling back slightly. “How you see someone.....but not really see them, you know?”

Xander saw something flicker in her eyes. Pain. Hurt. But then it was gone and her eyes were pools of darkness again.

“Yeah,” Xander said. “It's funny. And it's just getting funnier....”

“Shhhh,” Buffy said, pressing a finger to her lips.

“I guess I got tired of lying to myself,” Buffy said, undoing a shirt button. Then another. “About how much I want you.”

“I want you Xander,” she said again, her finger still on his lips. “And I know you want me.”

Buffy dropped her finger down to his chin as her mouth began moving towards his, forming her lips into a tantalizing 'O.' She ghosted his lips with hers. Xander began leaning in, but found himself suddenly pushed away.

Playfully this time. Buffy laughed, taking the sting out of her actions.

“Lose the shirt,” she ordered. Xander obeyed, slipping it off his shoulders in a deliberate motion to draw her attention to his muscular chest. Buffy reached out to touch him, then ran her hand across his chiselled upper body.

“Not bad,” she said dismissively, although she couldn't hide the spark of interest in her eyes. Nor the slightest tremble of inflection in
her tone.

“Your turn,” Xander said, grinning.

“What makes you think I'm wearing anything under this raincoat?”
Buffy said, pulling her hand back and toying with the hem of her outfit. She parted it slightly. Tantalizingly. Exposing a whole heap of beautiful golden cleavage. And then she snapped it shut, enjoying the tortured look on his face.

“Now the pants,” she said.

“Slowly,” she added, enjoying using the very word he used against her.

Xander undid just his belt buckle. Buffy watched him pull his bell out and drop it to the floor. He undid the button of his fly, then stepped out of his pants.

“Mmmm,” Buffy said appreciatively, her eyes lingering on the bulge in his boxer shorts.

“Say it,” Xander said. “Say the words.”

Buffy struggled with herself for a moment. With the words.

“Come to bed Xander,” Buffy said, scooting up against the
headboard.

“I won't stop this time,” Xander said, planting his knees in the middle of the bed and slowly stalking towards her.

“Is that a promise?” Buffy asked, letting the raincoat slide off her shoulders.

Cut to.......

William paced in his living room, glancing at the clock. It was now 4pm. He had been up all night. Going out of his mind with worry. Calling Buffy's phone. Leaving countless text messages. But there was no sign of her. He'd even tried calling the police, but they told him he needed to wait for 24 hours before he could file a missing person's report. William had left his home in the early hours of the morning, going from bar to bar. Questioning the customers, the staff, random passers-by. He'd been to the bus stop and the train station. Hell, he'd even been to the airport and the mall. Finally he'd come home, hoping that she'd already be there. Smiling at him. With an explanation that made sense of things. But the house was empty. Still. It was driving him crazy. He sat down on the sofa, intending to rest his eyes, just for a moment.

He awoke to the sound of the door opening. He switched on the light by the sofa to see her standing at the foot of the stairs. He wondered if it was really her or if he was still dreaming. She looked so beautiful, it made his heart hurt. And then she looked at him with eyes that were a kaleidoscope of emotions; anger, sadness, hurt. She looked tired. The circles under her eyes that betrayed her lack of sleep.

A million things raced through William's mind but there was only one question on his lips.

“Where were you?” he said, his voice quivering slightly

Buffy exhaled loudly at his words. “Where was I?” she repeated, as if asking herself the question.

“None of your business,” she said dismissively, making to move up the steps. She took one ginger step, then another, moving as if she were in pain. Her answer made William angry, as she knew it would. He took two steps after her, then another two up the stairs.

“I have a right to know Buffy,” William said, grabbing her arm.

“Do you?” Buffy challenged.

“I'm your husband,” William said.

“Yes,” Buffy said, a small bitter smile playing on the edge of her mouth. “You are. And I'm your wife.”

And with that she shook off his hand and took two steps away from him.

“Damnit Buffy,” William said, smashing his fist against their wall.

“Where were you last night?”

Buffy paused. Even though he was looking at the back of her head, William knew things had just gotten worse. Her whole body had tensed up. Like an uncoiled spring. He could practically hear her gritting her teeth. When Buffy looked back down at her husband, her face was a cool impassive mask.

“Are you sure you want to know?” Buffy said. William gave the slightest nod. Buffy took a deep breath.

“I was with Xander,” Buffy said. As if it were that simple. As if that explained everything.

William felt like he had been gut puched. The wind left his lungs entirely.

With Xander? Buffy had been with Xander? Again? A man she hated?

At that moment his brain couldn't even process it.

Buffy saw the confusion on his face. The bewilderment.

“Doing what?” William said. His voice was nearly a whisper. He knew, but he didn't believe. Not yet.

For a moment, he saw pity in her eyes. And then he knew. He could see it now. As clear as day. And on her face. The shame of it. The embarrassment of it. The regret. What she'd done. But he also saw defiance. The 'I dare you to call me on it spirit' that he so loved about her.

“Doing what?” Buffy repeated incredulously. “Doing what?”

She exhaled loudly, closed her eyes and shook her head. When her
eyes opened, they were hard and cruel.

“Use your imagination,” Buffy said coldly. “I know Xander sure as hell did.”

Buffy turned her back on her husband, who was still standing there, shell-shocked.

“Actually don't,” Buffy said, turning back to look at him. “I'll tell you exactly what we were doing.”

“Xander and I,” Buffy said, stepping down so that she was within arms reach of William, who took a step back. As if she had struck
him.

“Were up all night. Doing every nasty thing you can think off,” Buffy said.

“Twice,” Buffy said, with an acerbic smile, holding up her fingers in a victory sign. Even as the corner of her mouth trembled and her eyes welled up.

William felt as if he'd been shot. As if he was bleeding from the chest. He sank to the floor of the staircase, tears filling his eyes.

“Oh and today,” Buffy said, her voice cruel. “Today we did things you can't even imagine.”

“Why?” William said hoarsely, unable to look at her. He knew though.

“Faith,” Buffy spat out, like the name was poison. The poison in their marriage.

There was a long pause...

“I can explain that,” he said miserably. “I was....”

“I don't care,” Buffy said. “I don't want to hear anything you have to say. I only came to pick up my things.”

William looked up sharply.

“What?” William said. He hadn't even had a chance to get angry.

This took him entirely off guard.

“We,” Buffy said, her voice breaking for the first time. The implacable mask slipping. “We need to take some time. To think.”

And with that, she marched back up the stairs.

“Do,” William said, pausing to take in a breath that seemed to pierce his rib. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Buffy paused at the top of the stairs. She knew how much it had cost him to say that. To say those words. Her words. Words she'd said to him. A lifetime ago. She almost crumbled. But she was still furious with him. With his betrayal. And she didn't care.

“There's nothing to talk about,” Buffy said, walking into the bedroom
and shutting the door.

William sat on the steps, tears streaming down his face as. Buffy packed her things. Tears streaming down her face as she remembered how she'd betrayed her husband. She waited until she was sure he was gone, then walked out the door, with only a suitcase full of memories. She never looked back at their home.


When William awoke on the couch, he found the house in darkness. Just utter darkness. Just like his soul. He wanted to call out her name but he knew she was gone. She'd left. She'd just left. He could still taste the dry tears that had run down his cheeks.

Buffy, William thought.

Where was she? Where had she gone? She had no living family to speak off, and only a small circle of friends.

Probably ran back to Harris. Fucking whore.

The thought came unbidden. It enraged him. The thought that she could be with him, at this very moment. He stood there, shaking with rage. And the next thing William knew, he was in his car. He marched into the hotel he knew the son of a bitch owned in a fury. His eyes darted everywhere, looking for an elevator. He spotted it in the corner and made his way over, ignoring the frantic calls of 'Sir' and 'Excuse Me' from the front desk.

He practically smashed the button that was labelled 'Penthouse Suite'. A security guard came running up to stop him, but froze when William looked him dead in the eye. That moment was enough for the door to close. William flexed his fingers into a fist.

I'm gonna kill him, he thought. I'm going to bloody kill him

When the elevator reached the suite, William had the presence of mind to press the large red button that said 'Stop', leaving the elevator disabled. It was Spike who stepped off, stalking through the hallway. Silently. He moved from room to room, searching, searching searching. He found Xander in his private office, behind his desk.

Xander's legs were up and he was puffing on a large cigar. He looked the very picture of a man at ease with himself and his place in the universe.

“William,” Xander said, cheerfully. “I've been wondering when you'd show up.”

Spike said nothing. He curled his hand into a fist, staring a hole through the billionaire.

“Cigar?” Xander offered, holding up an expensive case.

Spike took two steps towards Xander, cocking his fist. Xander shook his head, as if he was personally disappointed in him.

“I know you want to hit me,” Xander said, standing up. “But that won't change anything. Other than making you feel better.”

“Wouldn't you rather know where Buffy is?” Xander said as Spike drew his fist back.

Her name broke through the haze of anger. His muscles coiled and flexed.

“Where?” he said, through gritted teeth.

“All in good time,” Xander smiled, moving back to his seat. “But first there's something you need to know.”

“No games Harris,” Spike growled. “Tell me where she is.”

“Nothing happened between Buffy and I that weekend,” Xander said.

He saw the confusion on Spike's face. The bewilderment.

“What?” he whispered. He didn't understand. Nothing happened that weekend? So why didn't Buffy just tell him that? Why did she keep letting him go out of his mind? Nothing made sense any more.

“She just couldn't do it,” Xander said, examining the cigar, then sighing. “Do you know how disappointed I was? The months I'd spent. Every little detail. And do you know what got in the way?”

Spike didn't respond. He couldn't respond.

“Love,” Xander spat out. He shook his head in disbelief. “She said she loved you.”

“But...” Spike began. “The....the money.”

“Aaah yes,” Xander said, smiling now. “The money. I told her she could keep it. All she had to do was not tell you what didn't happen.”

“Why?” Spike said.

“Because I knew it would drive you crazy,” Xander said, smiling at his own genius before closing his eyes and taking a deep drag. “The very thought of it. Your sweet, precious Buffy.”

“With me,” he said, opening his gleaming eyes.

“And I was right,” Xander crowed. “You pushed her away. And right into my bed.”

“You son of a bitch,” Spike swore.

Spike made to advance on Xander, but suddenly found himself unable to move. A large security guard had grabbed his arms and twisted them behind his back. Another was standing by his side, watching him closely. Spike thrashed helplessly, continuing to swear.

“I thought I could buy Buffy with money,” Xander said, shaking his head. “But a woman like that. No. Only one thing could deliver her to me.”

“You William,” Xander said, coming close to Spike, enough so he could see the triumphant look in his eyes. “Thank you. For an extremely.....”

Xander took a moment to search for the correct word. He closed his eyes, as if to rack his brain.

“Unforgettable,” Xander said. “An extremely 'unforgettable' evening.”

Spike roared. His hands were useless, so he reared his head back, then aimed it at the bridge of Xander's nose. He enjoyed the resounding crack of it breaking and the cry of pain that Xander let out as he fell back.

“Ooof,” Spike winced, when the second security guard lay a heavy punch into his stomach. Then another. The second shot took Spike's legs out from under him.

“Stop,” Xander commanded. The large man, looked at Spike apologetically, as if to say, just doing my job man. No hard feelings.

“Get me a handkerchief,” Xander ordered, trying to wipe away the blood and failing. A handkerchief was produced and Xander held it to his nose.

“Now hit him again,” Xander said. The security guard shrugged, then walked over to Spike. With one more apologetic look, he swung his large fist into Spike's stomach, who cried out with pain.

“Stop,” Xander said, after another two punches had been delivered and Spike's legs were limp/

“Put him down,” Xander ordered and Spike crumpled to the floor.

“I wish you had seen her,” Xander said. “How she looked when she
came to my bed. Her face when she was in my arms.”

Spike wanted to speak, but the pain had numbed his tongue. Xander seemed lost in the memory.

“She cried you know,” Xander confided. “After our first time."

Xander shook his head, almost wistfully.

"I'll never forget it. Buffy. Naked. Crying. Trying to find her clothes. Calling me an asshole. A bastard."

Xander sighed. “ She told me she'd betrayed her husband. Her marriage vows. That she wanted to go home.”

Spike tried to speak. His tongue lolled helplessly and he let out a pitiable groan.

“Didn't tell me to stop when I pulled her back into bed though,” Xander said, grinning. “No. She told me she wanted me to make her forget. Just for a little while.”

Xander let out a little chuckle.

“She said,” Xander began, searching his memory for right words.

“No one had ever made her cum like that. Not like that. She begged me to make her cum again. Just once more. And then she'd go."

Xander looked down at Spike, seeing tears running down his face.

“Oh come on Willy,” Xander said. “A woman like that? That needy?
There had to have been other men. Maybe you even knew about them.”

Xander took a moment. “But you know what?” Xander said slowly. “I bet I was her favourite. Because I was her revenge. Every orgasm I gave her paid you back.”

“Take him away,” Xander waved his hand dismissively.

The two heavies picked Spike up like a sack of potatoes, slinging him over their shoulders.

“Don't worry Willie,” Xander called after him. “Buffy will be the best cared for mistress in the world.”

That was the last thing Spike heard. When he awoke, it was dark and he was in an alley behind the hotel. He struggled to his feet, then sought out the closest bar.

“So,” Tara said, looking up at Buffy. Her eyes darted to the empty chair opposite hers. “Should we get started?”

Tara knew something was wrong the minute Buffy had walked in. She could see the emotions on Buffy's pale face. Her eyes looked red and puffy. Her nose was runny. It was as if she'd done little but spend the last few days crying. Tara knew this was going to be a one on one session.

“He's not coming,” Buffy said, a single tear rolling down her cheek, then
swatted at it angrily. “I knew he wouldn't. Not after....”

Tara wanted to ask what happened, but she bit her tongue. She would let Buffy speak her mind at her own pace.

“It was just sex,” Buffy said, staring at Tara. Her eyes were pleading, as if trying to make her understand. “Just sex. Not what we had. Not love.”

Tara knew Buffy was trying to justify it. To Tara. To her husband. To herself.

“I thought our love was stronger than that,” Buffy whispered. “That we
could survive....anything.”

Oh sweetie, Tara wanted to say. Love isn't the movies. Love is jealous. Love hurts. Love is messy. Love is real.

But Tara didn't say a word. It wasn't her job to judge Buffy, she reminded herself. Only to help her. Counsel her. Help put some pieces of her back again.

“So he hurt me,” Buffy said, clutching her stomach, as if she was in pain. “He hurt me so much. It's like I couldn't breathe.”

Tara didn't need three guesses to figure out what William had done. How he'd hurt her. The same way Buffy had hurt him, she figured.

“And with my friend,” Buffy said, spitting out the last two words as if they were poison. “Fucking whore.”

Although Tara was taken aback by the venom in Buffy's voice, she didn't even blink. She'd seen it all before. And worse. The human condition laid before her, in all its glory.

You always hurt the ones you love, Tara thought. We all do.

Tara just looked down and professionally scribbled on her notepad.

“I was just so angry,” Buffy said, shaking her head in bewilderment. “It's like I wasn't even myself anymore.”

“I hated him,” Buffy said. Her eyes widened, as if she was hearing those feelings out loud for the first time. “I hated him for what he did.”

Buffy paused for the longest time, looking off into the distance before she spoke.

“So I hurt him back,” Buffy said, her lips trembling.

“I hurt us,” she said, sounding as if she was miserable. Her eyes looked haunted. “And I think there's no coming back.”

This time Tara couldn't contain herself.

“Oh Buffy,” Tara whispered. Her eyes asked the question her mind had been wanting to.

What did you do?

Cut to.....

“That...” Xander said, pausing to let his lungs gasp in a deep breath.
“That was amazing.”

“That was.....” Buffy began, trailing off to catch a deep breath, then
letting out an exhale.

Good, Buffy thought. Better than good, she thought.

Xander turned on his side to look at the woman lying besides him. Her eyes were on the ceiling. Her hair still inconceivably perfect. Not a strand was out of place. Her cheeks were flushed. She was breathing heavily through her tiny nose. Her skin was sheeny with a mixture of his and her sweat. She'd never looked more beautiful. God, he wanted her again.

“Thirsty,” Buffy said, almost absentmindedly. Xander reached to his bedside table and grabbed a bottle of Evian, took a little sip, then handed it over, watching as she put her beautiful lips to the bottle and began drinking.

Xander didn't want to move but he was absolutely bursting to take a piss.

“Bathroom,” Xander said, apologetically.

Buffy shrugged as if to say, if you've gotta go, you gotta go.

Xander looked at her ruefully, hating that he had to leave. Then he decided he'd better make it quick.

“I'll be back,” Xander said. “Don't go anywhere.”

And with that he leaned over to plant a quick kiss on Buffy's lips.

Buffy hesitated. She'd gotten what she came here for. There was no
reason to stick around. But then she realised she had nowhere else to go. At least nowhere she wanted to. So she let Xander press his lips to hers. confirmed the continuation of their arrangement.

For now.

Buffy watched Xander go out of the corner of her eye, sipping the water. When Buffy was alone, she let herself search her feelings in the aftermath of what she'd done. She felt....nothing. Not anger. Not sorrow. Nor regret. Just numb. Comfortably numb.

“Hunh,” Buffy said, her voice sounding foreign to her ears. “I guess I am a real bitch.”

She screwed up her face and gave a wistful, bitter chuckle, then took a long sip of water. She reached over to put the bottle on the bedside table. That was when she spotted it. Her wedding ring.

Sitting on the table. Accusingly. Buffy looked at it. Stared at it. Then she looked at her hand. Stupidly. As if she expected to find it there. It wasn't. Obviously.

Buffy searched her memory. Searched through the haze of anger and the cold, calculated fury of a woman wronged. She remembered coming into the hotel room. Getting into the heels and raincoat. Sitting on the bed. Waiting for Xander. She couldn't remember taking it off. And yet she had. She looked at it again. There it was. Sitting on the bedside table. As it had the past half-hour. Silently. Accusingly.

And that was when it hit her. The shock of it. The magnitude of it. What she'd done. It felt like jumping into an ice-cold lake. And then all Buffy felt was a cold panic that wrapped itself around her heart and squeezed. Squeezed until she was literally gasping for air. And then Buffy's ears were filled with the sounds of a woman's sobs. It took a moment for her to realise she was the one that was crying.

When Xander returned, Buffy was hysterical, her face drenched with tears. She was on the floor, the bedsheets wrapped around her body. Searching for something under the bed. Frantically. Clutching something tight in one hand.

“Buffy?” Xander asked.

“Clothes,” she muttered repeatedly. “Clothes....I need my clothes....Need to.....God......”

“What?” Xander asked.

“My clothes!” Buffy screamed at him. “Don't you understand? I need my fucking clothes.”

Buffy turned away from him, leaving him perplexed.

“I have to.....go home,” Buffy whimpered, “Oh god. I can't go home. Not
after what I.......what we....”

And suddenly Buffy seemed to notice Xander.

“You,” she spit out. “Bastard. You took advantage of me. You used me.”

“We took advantage of each other,” Xander said, smirking. “Besides,
I'm not the one who showed up in your hotel room wearing nothing but a flimsy silk bathrobe.”

Buffy flinched at that statement. Because it hurt. Because she knew it was the truth.

“And why do you think that is?” Buffy asked bitterly. “Why did I come here instead of any of a thousand random bars in this goddamn city?”

Xander shrugged.

“Because I knew exactly what type of man you are,” Buffy said, walking over to him, still clutching the bedsheets tight around her body.

“And what type of man is that?” Xander asked.

“A bastard,” Buffy hissed, pushing him with a hand. God, she wanted to hit him. “An asshole.”

This time, she did punch him. In the stomach. Hard enough to make him take a step back and put some distance between them.

“A no good son of a bitch who would stop at nothing until he got exactly what he wanted,” Buffy finished. .“Regardless of who got hurt.”
Her face crumbled momentarily, but then she managed to hold herself together.

Xander shook his head.

“You chose to come here Buffy,” Xander said.

“But you knew,” Buffy said bitterly. “Didn't you? That's why you made the offer. Made it so that I couldn't tell him. You knew what it would do to him. To us. And you didn't care. Not as long as you got what you wanted.”

Xander sighed. For a moment, Buffy thought he looked like he was going to apologise.

“This is your fault,” Xander said. “And his. You know that don't you?”

Buffy's jaw dropped. She looked at him. Outraged. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't. Her lips moved, but the words never came.

“All you had to do was say yes,” Xander said. “And none of this needed to have happened.”

“What?” Buffy finally managed to croak out.

“Think about it,” Xander said. “If you and William had accepted my offer....”

“Did you honestly expect us to just...” Buffy began.

“Yes,” Xander said, cutting her off.

“I don't even....” Buffy began, bewildered.

“Think about it,” Xander said. “We could have had a fun, guilt-free evening together while he counted the money and played the slot machines. And the next day, I could have just moved on. Like I always do. But you just had to do it, didn't you? You had to say no. You had to make me want the one thing I couldn't have. You had to make me...”

“Make you what?” Buffy asked.

Xander sighed. “Fall in love with you.”

Buffy's gaped at him. “You're insane,” she said finally. “This whole thing is just....insane”

Buffy turned away from him, visibly disgusted. With him. With herself.

With this whole sordid affair. Buffy wrapped her arms around herself, weeping softly.

Xander sighed deeply, plonking down on the bed.

“Why are you crying?” he asked.

“Because,” Buffy began. “I betrayed my vows. My marriage. My husband.”

Xander scoffed at that. Loudly.

“It may not mean anything to you,” Buffy said angrily wiping her tears away. “But some people actually believe in these things.”

Buffy took a few deep breaths until she'd controlled her sobs.

“I should go,” she said, standing up. Buffy held the sheet to herself tight, stepping over the mess they'd made earlier. Xander was up in a flash, standing in her way.

“I have a better idea,” he said, his hands on her waist, trying to peel the bedsheet from her body.

“No,” Buffy said, trying to push him off. “Stop.”

“I know why you came here Buffy,” Xander said, maneuvering her towards the direction of the bed.

Buffy's eyes widened. He knew about what William had done?

“Because he hurt you,” Xander said. “Didn't he?”

And then Buffy remembered. Why she'd come here. What he'd done.

“Yes,” Buffy said, her breath catching somewhere between a sigh and a sob.

“I just want to make you feel good,” Xander soothed. Buffy felt the back of her knees touch the bed.

Buffy knew Xander was lying. He didn't care about her. He was only in it for himself. But the truth hurt so much right now, she couldn't help but find herself wanting the soothing embrace of a lie. And right now, Buffy wanted to feel something. Anything other than the pain that gripped her heart. So she let go, letting the bedsheet fall from her body and on to the
floor.

Cut to....

“I just wanted to forget,” Buffy said, staring at Tara. Her eyes pleaded with her therapist. Trying to make her understand. “Just for a little while.”

And Tara forgot herself. Forgot that she was a therapist. Forgot that Buffy was a patient. Her patient. And in that moment, Tara crossed the room and hugged Buffy.

Buffy just sat on the hotel bed. For a long time. She looked around. The room was empty. It felt surreal. This was her life now. Working all day and checking in to an empty room. He hadn't called. Not even once. Not since...

Buffy pushed those memories aside. They made her stomach hurt. She wasn't ready to confront those. Not yet. Her phone rang, startling her out of her thoughts. Idly, she answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“This is the concierge. I'm afraid to say there's been a problem with your room.”

“Oh,” Buffy said. “I hope it's nothing serious.”

“Not to worry miss. It'll be taken care of in a day or two. In the meanwhile, could we offer you a replacement room?”

The voice was breezy and full of self confidence. A trustworthy voice.

“Okay,” Buffy said.

“Very well,” the voice replied. “We'll send up a porter straightaway. And once again, we'd like to offer our apologies for
the inconvenience.”

“It's fine,” Buffy said. “Really.”

An hour later, the porter ushered Buffy and her luggage into the elevator, then pressed the button marked 'P'. Buffy barely noticed. However, she did a double take when the young man led her into a room that looked fit for royalty.

“Erm,” she began. “I think there's been some sort of mix up. This is way beyond my budget.”

“Compliments of the management,” the porter said, waving her worries away. “Enjoy your stay Ms Summers-Pratt.”

“But this isn't...” Buffy called. However, the porter simply chose to ignore her.

“Okay then....” she said.

Fine. Whatever. They just better not be pulling some complimentary upgrade only to gouge me at check-out crap. Buffy made a mental note not to use the mini bar. She decided she'd order room service. After she had a hot shower. When Buffy emerged from the bath almost an hour later, she almost felt like her old self. Almost. There were moments she could even forget. But those were few and far between. She sat on the bed, drying her hair with a hand towel. Her eyes shut.

I love this hair, she could hear him whisper in her ear. So shiny. The way it bounces around when I.....

“Hello Buffy,” she heard.

Her eyes opened. No. Not him. Please.

She wheeled around. Her eyes breathing fire.

“You,” she spat. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you too,” Xander smiled. “Lover.”

She flinched visibly at that word. Xander enjoyed the discomfited look on her face. Took pleasure in how her body tensed up.

“Don't call me that,” Buffy said. Harshly.

“Why not?” Xander asked. He seemed almost hurt by her words.
Suddenly, his tenor changed. At the drop of her hat.

“We're lovers Buffy,” Xander said, stepping closer. She didn't like the possessive tone in his voice. Or the look in his eyes. “You and I.”

“We are no such thing,” Buffy hissed.

“Fine,” Xander said, rolling his eyes. “We were lovers.”

“We made love Buffy,” he said. Imploringly. Then he smirked.
“More than once, if I recall. In fact, I counted at least....”

Buffy had had enough. Heard enough. She took a step forward, then punched him in the stomach. Hard. Enough to double him over.

“Get out,” Buffy said. “I never want to see you again.” She raised her fists again. Threateningly. She could see the surprise in his eyes. Guess his investigators missed out on her black belt in jiu-jitsu.

Xander took a step back, throwing his hands up. As if to say he'd had enough. But when he was at a safe distance, he seemed to reconsider.

“I can't stop thinking about it,” Xander said, still out of breath. “That night. The things we did......”

“Then I suggest you try harder,” Buffy said, gritting her teeth. “Because I haven't given it a second thought.”

“You're lying,” Xander said. “I know you Buffy. You're aren't the kind of girl who just jumps into bed with someone. That's not who you are...”

“You have no idea who I am,” Buffy said. Her voice shivering with rage. “None.”

“Okay,” Xander said. “You win. I have no idea who you are.
None.”

That seemed to take her aback. His next words shocked her.

“Would you let me find out?”

Buffy didn't understand.

“What?” she said. “Are you.....are you asking me out on a date?”

Xander was silent. For just a moment.

“No,” Xander said. Finally.

“Oh,” Buffy said. “Okay. Good.”

Thank god, Buffy thought. Whew.

“I'm asking you to be my mistress.” Xander said.

Buffy's face hardened.

Son of a bitch, she thought. Son of a motherfucking, cocksucking bitch.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“I'd like you to be my mistress Buffy. My only mistress,” Xander said, as if pointing out that tiny detail would make all the difference.

“Don't get me wrong. I'll still be sleeping with other women. But I'll always come home to you Buffy,” he said sincerely. As if he were reciting his wedding vows. “And that's a promise. You'll be my number one girl.”

Buffy had no words. The words had left her. She just shook her head.

“At least until you hit 30,” Xander said. “But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. That's still years away. But I'll take care of you.”

Buffy wanted to explode. She managed to take a deep breath.

“Get. Out.” she said, rubbing her temples. God, she had a headache.

“Don't answer right now now,” Xander said. “Take some time. Sleep on it. Or better yet, sleep with me. Then sleep on it."

“Why can't you just leave me alone?” Buffy asked. God, she felt miserable. She sounded even worse. “You got what you wanted. Why can't you just....god. Why can't you just accept that this......”

“Whatever this fucked up thing was......it's over Xander. It will never happen again.”

“Why not?” Xander asked. Buffy looked at him. He really didn't understand.

“Because I'm not in love with you,” Buffy said. She felt exhausted. As if she were dealing with a seven year old. “Because I don't trust you.”

This time, she saw him flinch. She saw anger flash across his face.

“Because that worked out so well with William?” Xander sneered.
The words were a knife in her stomach. Buffy felt like she'd been stabbed. Like she was bleeding out. Slowly,

“Loving you didn't stop your husband from screwing your best friend that weekend when he thought you were screwing me,” Xander said.

“And it sure as hell didn't stop you from screwing me seven ways from Sunday,” he added. Gleefully.

“So tell me.....how's that whole love and trust thing been working out for you lately,” Xander.

Buffy was silent. Xander seized on the opening.

“You've tried love. Why not try something different? Something honest? Something real. I'm looking for a 'partner' Buffy. My equal. In each and every way. I've been looking for someone my
whole life. And I think....”

Xander took a deep breath.

“I think I finally found you.”

Buffy didn't say a word.

“I've made dinner reservations,” Xander said. “Booked the entire restaurant downstairs. For just us. I'll be waiting Buffy.”

He turned to go, then paused at the door.

“But I won't wait forever,” he said. And then he left the room.

Xander looked at the clock. It was 10 pm. He examined the menu. Checked his phone. Conversed with the waiters. He checked his phone again. He folded his arms over his stomach. He looked at the clock. 11 pm. His jaw tightened. The anger built inside of him. He held it back. He looked at the clock. 11.30 pm. He forced himself to wait. He looked at the clock again. 11.59 pm. He shook his head. Threw down the napkin and stood. And found himself face to face with her.

“Buffy,” Xander said.

She was a vision, he thought. An absolute vision.

Her golden hair was bunched up over her head for once. Although a few honeyed strands framed her face on either side, drawing even more attention to her flawless complexion, razor sharp cheeks and tiny perfect nose. And those lips. Xander could write a sonnet to those lips. So full. So shiny. So perfect.

“Hello,” she said. A bit akwardly. Her hands bunched up in front of her. Xander could see a shiny, bejewelled bracelet around her right hand. Noticed the hoops through her earrings. It took him a moment to realise where he'd seen the silver dress she was wearing. It struck him like a bolt of lighting. It was the dress. The one he'd laid out for her. On the weekend that never was. Well, not quite the dress, he noted. For one thing, this wasn't backless. But close enough. Her slim shoulders were still bare. It still hugged her curves in all the right places and showed an ungodly amount of leg. But best of all, it wound behind her back in an exquisite little knot. She had made herself into a shiny little gift. For him.

Xander couldn't help but grin when he remembered the words she'd said as she was fiddling with the raincoat.

Aren't you going to unwrap your present?

Yes I am, Xander thought. Slowly.

“Hi,” he said. Finally. Took a deep breath.

“I'm glad you came.”

“I almost didn't,” Buffy said.

Xander detected a flicker in her tone. He dismissed it.
Probably just nervous, he thought. Finally admitting what she wants. Still, it would be a nice ego boost for him to hear her say the words.

“What changed your mind?” he asked, pulling out the chair for her to sit down and gesturing to it.

“I guess.....” she began. She had to pause to collect herself.

“I guess I was surprised at how glad I was,” Buffy finished. “To see you.”

“Could have fooled me,” Xander said, giving her a little smile.
Buffy smiled back. Just a little.

“It's funny,” she said, fiddling with the glass on the table. “How you see someone....”

“And not really see them...” Xander finished.

“Exactly,” Buffy said. Xander could see a hint of sadness in her eyes. He knew she was letting go of her old life. Of the old Buffy. He was glad she'd begun to accept it. Accept she belonged to him. By his side.

“Wine?” Xander asked, eager to change the topic.

“I'd love some,” Buffy said.

Xander clicked his fingers and the host scurried over.

“Your most expensive bottle,” Xander said, never taking his eyes
of Buffy.

“Oui monsieur,” the host said, bowing.

Buffy looked around. The restaurant was empty. Just as he'd promised.

“It's quiet,” Buffy said. “I like quiet.”

“I know,” Xander said. He enjoyed the surprised look on her face.

“I told you Buffy. I know you.”

“Are you sure about that?” Buffy asked.

Xander could have sworn she was flirting with him. He smirked.

“I'm pretty sure I have you down,” Xander said.

“Think so, do you?” Buffy said, as the maitre de filled their cups.

“I do,” Xander said. “Or I will. Soon enough.”

“Oh?” Buffy said, taking a dainty sip of her wine. “Got a timetable for that?”

“I was thinking by the end of the evening,” Xander said, mimicking her sip. “Unless you'd prefer to skip dinner and go upstairs right now. Because I'm just dying to get to desert”

Buffy fixed him with an inscrutable look.

“Dinner first,” she said.

“And then?” Xander asked. A little too eagerly.

“We'll see where the evening takes us,” Buffy said. Casually.

“To the evening,” Xander toasted. “And wherever it takes us.”

Right to my bed, Xander thought. Again.

Buffy brought her glass forward, letting it brush his and make a soft clink.

Later, Xander insisted on walking Buffy to her room. They'd both had more than a few sips of wine and he was determined to, as he put it, get her to bed safe and sound.

“Well,” Buffy said. “This is me.”

“I know,” Xander said. "Got the credit card bill to prove it."

“Yeah,” Buffy said. “I figured."

When Xander leant in for a kiss, he found Buffy's arm holding him back.

“Come on,” Xander said. “Don't I get to unwrap my present?”

“Who said anything about a present?” Buffy said.

Then she turned on her heels and walked inside, shutting the door in his face. She made sure to lock the door. Twice. And then she latched it.

“I won't wait forever Buffy,” Xander said. Loudly.

“Yes,” Buffy said softly. “You will.”

She waited until she heard his footsteps fade, then took a cleansing breath.

When Buffy sat down to brush her hair in front of the mirror, she let herself ponder the question again. The question that had been haunting her since she'd found herself face to face with him.

How did Xander know Spike was with Faith that weekend? I
never told him that.

And as Buffy examined the past year of her life, she couldn't help but wonder. Was she being paranoid? Or had someone been pulling their strings along the way? Buffy wanted, no she needed answers. At any cost.

Don’t stare like a yokel, Buffy thought. Don’t stare like a yokel.

Which was difficult given where she was. A ten million dollar Penthouse in Hudson Yards.

“The building was designed by Cary Tamarkin,” the realtor, a tall brunette named Jennifer said.

“The ceilings are twenty-feet-tall. The apartment is a shade under 4,000 square feet.”

“Four beds, four and a half bathrooms, wide plank white oak floors. Slab marble everywhere,” Jennifer added.
Pausing for effect.

“Nice,” Buffy said. Tamely. “Very nice.”

Jennifer sniffed at her and turning up her nose slightly. Clearly, she’d been searching for a more exuberant reaction.

Buffy looked behind her. Willow, who’d introduced herself as Xander’s gal Friday, was on her cellphone. Texting furiously.

She had barely looked up from her phone since they’d met earlier this morning. Clearly, this wasn’t a priority for her.

“In the kitchen you’ll find imported Italian cabinetry,” the realtor continued. “Pietra Cardosa countertops and backsplash. Lefroy Books faucets. Really top shelf in the $10 million price range.”

“Ten million?” Buffy asked. Her voice squeaking.

“We’ll take it,” Willow said. “That is, unless you have some objection, Buffy?”

“I…” Buffy began. “I mean…”

“We’ll take it,” Willow said. “Today.”

“Excellent,” Jennifer said. Clapping her hands happily.
I’ll see you out there, Will,” Jennifer said. Politely. “As always, a pleasure doing business with you.”

Then spun on her stylish heels and left.

“Your trainer, stylist and nutritionist will be here by the EOD,” Willow told Buffy. In a well-practiced tone.

“You’ll also need…” Willow began. Opening her rather plain-looking purse, she began rummaging through it.
“This.”

Willow handed her a sleek, futuristic looking black and gold card with a diamond in the center.

"What is it?” Buffy asked. Taking it with exceeding caution. As if her fingers would soil it. Holding it away from her like she would a bomb.

“Daddy’s credit card,” Willow said.

Rolling her eyes when Buffy blushed at her bluntness.

“This card has no limits and zero restrictions,” Willow said. “So, spend away, honey.”

“Okay,” Buffy said. Not knowing how to respond.

“And last but not least,” Willow added. She pulled out a cellphone.

“I have a phone,” Buffy said.

“Ah, but this is your special phone,” Willow said. As if she were talking to a small child. Her tone rubbed Buffy the wrong way. “You need to keep this on you at all times.”

“Why?” Buffy asked.

Willow looked exasperated now.

“Because,” she began. Sighing.

Gods help me, Willow thought. Why is it always dumb blondes?

“When it rings, you need to…” Willow said.

Buffy was staring at her. Like a lost lamb. Absurdly, Willow found herself not wanting to hurt the woman.

“Be ready,” she finished.

It took a moment for Buffy to understand. And then she did.

“Oh,” she said. Bashfully. “Okay.”

She pursed her lips now and looked away.

“Why are you doing this?” Buffy asked. Suddenly.

Willow stared at her. Hard.

“Because it’s my job,” she said.

“I mean… why are you doing this…for him?” Buffy asked. Awkwardly

“Because,” Willow said. The irritation returned in full force.

For a moment, Buffy thought she caught something in the brunette’s eyes. Something intimate.

“Because he has no else in the world,” Willow said. Her expression making it clear there would be no further discussion on this subject.

For a moment, things got uncomfortable between the women. Really uncomfortable.

“And how many other women are there?” Buffy blurted out.
As she often did when she was nervous.

Willow looked skeptical now.

“Do you really wanna know?” she asked. “I mean, really?”

Buffy considered it. Part of her actually did. She shook her head.

Play the game, Buffy told herself. Just play the game. It’s only for a little while.

“I didn’t think so,” Willow said. “Cya around Muffy.”

“It’s Buffy,” she called. After the retreating figure.

“Whatever,” Willow said.

“Bitch,” Buffy called.

“Whore,” responded Willow.

“Freak,” Buffy retorted.

“Slut,” Willow said.

“Witch,” Buffy called.

As the door slammed shut.

Buffy stood there. Looking around at the gorgeous ten million dollar apartment. Feeling completely empty inside.

The next few days were hell on earth for Buffy. As her trainer, stylist and nutritionist – all women, Buffy noted – poked, prodded and measured every inch of her.

When she wasn’t being examined like a zoo animal, Buffy spent in bed doing research. Checking her main phone from time to time to see if William had reached out. Which he hadn't.

Her husband's former company had been bought out by a bigger law firm. Which was owned by a company in Shanghai.
Which was owned by another company in Mauritius. And so on and so on. Until her head hurt.

But finally, Buffy hit paydirt. The final holder seemed to be a company based out of Atlantic City. Which is where Xander’s hotel was.

Buffy's heart began hammering harder. As she began remembered what had happened to her mother's gallery.

Wealthy clients suddenly refusing to pay on time if at all. Contractors overcharging her. City hall up her ass about everything. Every week they seemed to find a new code that had been violated.

At the time, Buffy had chalked it up to a simple run of bad luck. But now she couldn't help but think a more sinister game was afoot.

There was one more thing she had to do. She didn't want to, but there was no choice. She had to see Faith.

With some distaste, she texted Faith her new address.

When she opened her apartment door to her former best friend, Faith whistled.

“Wow,” the brunette said. “Look at you B. Moving up in the world.”

Buffy responded by slapping the living shit out of Faith.

“I guess I deserve that,” Faith said. Softly. For a moment, she looked like she was going to cry.

So Buffy slapped her again. Harder this time.

“You deserve a hell of a lot more than that,” Buffy hissed. “I trusted you. Fucking whore.”

“And you?” Faith asked. Her voice bitter. “What do you deserve Ms. I'm going to go screw a billionaire for a cool $10 mill?”

Buffy stared at Faith. Incomprehensibly.

“You know it wasn't like that!” she said. “Of all people…”

Faith let out a short, sharp laugh.

“Oh come on, Buffy,” she said. “You were dying to do it. Ditch your pathetic husband and your pathetic life for a weekend of hot, no-strings attached sex with a rich guy. The money was just the cherry on top, babe.”

Buffy couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Newsflash. That doesn't make you a bad person. Just human. Like the rest of us. Stop pretending otherwise,” Faith added.

“And you'd just been dying to screw my husband,” Buffy said bitterly. “Weren't you? Just couldn't wait to take something from me again.”

“Hey,” Faith said. “Come on B. Let's take a little responsibility here. You practically pushed me into it.”

“Excuse me?” Buffy said. Finding herself too shocked to even strike Faith.

“Come on,” Faith said. “That little message you sent me the weekend when you were away with Daddy Warbucks?”

“What… what are even you talking about?” Buffy asked.

Faith scoffed, pulling her phone out of her jeans pocket.
“Hey. Could you please check up on Will for me tonight.
I’m really worried about him. Love, B,” the brunette said. Imitating a Valley Girl voice.

“Come on. You knew what was going to happen if I went over there. Especially after what happened with Riley. You practically gave me the green signal,” Faith said.

Shooting Buffy a triumphant look.

“I didn't send you any goddamn message,” Buffy said. Insistently. “Give it here.”

Faith handed over the phone without fuss. Buffy stared at the screen. The message was there all right. From her number.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Buffy whispered. “It just doesn’t…”

“Yeah right,” Faith said. “Good old B. Always the same. Never willing to admit when you made a mistake.”

And suddenly it clicked into place for Buffy. And then she knew.

“Fuck!” Buffy screamed. Then slung the phone at Faith's head. “Son of a bitch!”

The brunette ducked at let it smash into pieces behind her, wincing at the sound.

“What the fuck?” Faith yelled, shooting Buffy a bewildered
look. “Are you fucking crazy?”

Buffy took a deep breath, calming herself.

“I never want to see you again,” she told Faith. Turning her back. “Get the fuck out of here.”

Faith said nothing for a few moments.

“B,” Faith said. Softly. “I'm sorry. Believe it or not…”
“I am. Really,” she added.

“You're right,” Buffy said. Coldly. “I don't believe it.”

“Please B,” Faith said, her voice breaking suddenly. “I...
I don't have many friends.”

“No!” Buffy said. Feigning shock, she turned around and glared at Faith. “I can’t believe that! Not the whore that screws her friend's husband behind her back.”

“Please B,” Faith said, her eyes brimming with tears.

“I'll... I'll do anything to make it right. Just give me a chance.”

“There's no making things right,” Buffy said. Angrily
wiping away a tear. “Not after what you did.”

“I know,” Faith said. She sounded pathetic now. Broken. “But I can try. Can't I? Please. Please, B.”

Buffy took a deep breath. She couldn't believe she was even considering this. But right now, as much as she loathed Faith, the only thing she had on her mind was destroying Xander Harris. And she could only think of one way.

“Okay,” Buffy said. “I need your tech geeks.”

A week later, Buffy finally got the call she was dreading. On the special phone Willow had given her.

“Buffy,” his smooth voice said.

“Xander,” she said. Forcing herself to sound so sweet and syrupy it made her want to puke. “Hi.”

“How have you been keeping?” he asked.

“The usual,” she said. Casually.

“You have everything you need?” he asked.

I need the truth, she thought. You son of a bitch. What did you do?

“Almost,” she said. Suggestively.

Which made him chuckle.

“Are you free tonight?” he asked. Sounding like he was enjoying himself far too much.

“I’ll have to consult my schedule,” she said. Evenly.

“I already have,” Xander said. “You’re having dinner with me. And then back to your place after.”

“I see,” Buffy said. “Anything else?”

“Pick the sexiest dress you have,” he said. “I’m going to
enjoy taking it off later.”

Before she could respond, he’d hung up the phone.

Bastard, Buffy thought.

Buffy picked up her own phone and dialed Faith.

“Do you have it?” she asked. Carefully.

“Yeah,” Faith said. “I’ll bring it over.”

Fifteen minutes later, the brunette was knocking at her door. When Buffy opened the door, she found Faith holding up a USB.

“This little thing?” Buffy asked. Then, taking it from her, examined it diffidently.

“Just plug it into his laptop,” Faith said. “And my boys will do the rest. Trust me.”

Buffy paused.

“How did you get them to help?” she asked.

“Does it matter?” Faith asked. Snippily.

“Maybe,” Buffy said. Folding her hands across herself.

Faith sighed.

“They wouldn’t do it for good old cash,” the brunette said. “So I….”

Buffy raised a brow.

“Sent them what you would call a ‘saucy snapshot’”, Faith added.

“Nothing NSFW, mind. Just risqué,” she added. When Buffy shook her head. “Some would even call it tasteful.”

“So… are we good?” Faith asked. Eyeing her former friend warily.

Buffy responded by giving Faith the finger. Then slammed the door shut in her face.

“Not by a longshot,” she muttered.

Two hours later…

Xander was standing at his office window. His nimble fingers lightly tapping the phone as he admiring the sealine view.

When he heard the door swing open, he let out an irritable hiss.

“Didn’t I say I didn’t want to be disturbed?” he snarled. When he didn’t get a response, he looked over.

To see Buffy Anne Summers standing there. Wearing a one-piece Satin outfit that highlighted every dangerous curve.
Her hair down. Her makeup flawless.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Placing both hands on her hips to highlight her perfect figure. “I’m not disturbing you, am I?

Christ, Xander thought. As his greedy eyes feasted on all she had to offer. Her lovely breasts. Her slim waist. Her long legs. The left of which she dipped a little to brush her right.

Xander also noted the pricey necklace she’d donned, the golden watch on her wrist, and expensive rings adoring her fingers. And the designer pumps.

Someone’s been spending Daddy’s money, he thought. Worth ever goddamn penny.

“Buffy,” he said. Grinning. “You look sensational.”

Xander casually glanced at it his watch. It was barely 7 pm.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Where have you been this past week?” she enquired.

Shutting the door behind her.

“Been busy,” he said. Casually. Leaning back on his desk.
As if to judge its stability for a quickie. Then moving to sit behind his desk. “Why? Been missing me?”

He leaned back in his chair as Buffy walked over to his glass window, then shut the blinds.

“You,” she said. “Have been making me wait.”

“Guilty,” he said.

“What if I don’t wanna wait?” Buffy asked. Flirtatiously.

“Yeah?” he asked. Leaning back in his chair. “Come over here, then.”

Buffy gave him a winning smile, then slowly began walking over. When she was almost at his desk, she casually gave it a once over. Making sure his laptop was on it. Which it was.

Nice and easy, she thought. Nice and easy.

Xander, focused as he was on her, didn’t even notice.

Buffy took a seat on his mahogany desk, then leaned back a little and crossed her legs seductively. Her left hand, in which she’d concealed the USB, was just inches away from the laptop now.

“Christ, you’re so sexy,” Xander said. Running his eyes up and down her body as he undid his tie.

Buffy knew exactly what he had in mind. Him and her on the mahogany desk of his office.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Buffy said. Haughtily.

When he rose from his chair, Buffy, acting on instinct, placed her hand on his chest and shoved him back down.

“Not yet,” she said. Playfully. Then, leaning forward, began undoing his tie.

Suddenly, Buffy sniffed the air.

“Is that you?” she asked. Crinkling her nose and making a sour face.

“I just finished my office workout,” he said. Defensively.

“What, no shower?” she asked. Raising her eyebrows.

“I was planning to,” he said. “Once I finished up here.”

“Go take a shower,” Buffy said. Leaning back. "I'll wait."

“How about some company?” he asked.Eagerly.

Buffy gave him an appraising look.

“This,” she said. Gesturing to her currently glammed up self. “Took me an hour to put together. Kapish?”

Xander sighed. Then stepped away from the desk and towards his office shower. When he looked back, he saw Buffy was in his chair now. And had put up her feet on his desk. Tapping her high heels on them.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he said. She responded with a saucy look.

Buffy watched him step into the shower and shut the door behind him. She waited a moment.

Then another. When the water finally began running, she leaned forward and, taking hold of the laptop, quickly put the USB into it.

Then, retrieving her phone from her pocket, texted the geeks.

We’re a go, she texted. Hurry.

On it, came back the immediate reply.

Buffy found herself fiddling nervously as the laptop screen flickered.

You in? she asked. Sending another text.

Yes, came back the reply. We need a couple of minutes. There’s a lot of information.

Hurry, she texted. Biting her lip nervously and flexing her fingers. Glancing at the glass door that separated his office from his bathroom.

Buffy heard the water stop. Xander began to hum.

Buffy quickly calculated. It had been what two or three minutes? Tops?

How much longer, she texted back.

A few minutes, they replied. Five tops.

Jesus, Buffy thought. Resisting the urge to stamp her incredibly trendy Christian Louboutin heels into the carpet.

When she heard the door opened, Buffy sprang up on the desk like a cat. And placing her right leg over her left leg, struck a sexy pose.

Buffy saw Xander step back out into the office. Wearing only a towel around his waist.

Five more minutes, Buffy thought. Tops.

“All done,” he said. Gesturing to himself.

“I can see that,” Buffy said. Lowering her head a little, she began running a finger through her hair.

Buffy looked behind her. The laptop screen was flickering. Another two steps and he’d notice.

At any cost, Buffy thought.

When he took another two step forward, Buffy sprung to her feet.

“You know,” Buffy began. “I think….”

“Yes?” he asked. His eyes slightly suspicious.

At any cost, Buffy thought again.

She stepped forward now. Directly into his line of sight and blocking the view of his desk.

“I think I will take you up on that shower invitation after all,” she said. Lightly touching him on the chest.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

Xander paused. Then smiled.

“I…” he began. His hand sliding around her waist, he stepped back. Pulling her with him in direction of the bathroom.

“Never,” he added. Kissing her neck now. Buffy sighed in exasperation. Then, in afterthought added a little ‘oh god’ to it.

Am I really gonna do this? she asked herself. She looked back. To see the laptop screen still flickering.

At any cost, she told herself. Remember?

“Change my mind,” he added. Then Buffy found herself being slung over his shoulder. When he began quickly carrying her to the bathroom, she saw his towel lying on the floor behind them. Forgotten.

When she saw his heel slam the door shut behind them, Buffy shut her eyes.

At any cost, Buffy thought to herself.

“Where do you want to go for dinner?” he asked. Xander was getting dressed by the window. The sun had long since gone down. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

Buffy looked over at him. She said nothing as she pulled her clothes back on. Her mind busy searching for a way to extricate herself from his presence.

To go home and pour over whatever the tech geeks had found her.

“Do you like the way I look?” Buffy asked. Sharply.

“Huh?” he asked.

“Do. You. Like. The. Way. I. Look?” Buffy asked. Icily.

“Yeah,” he said. Frowning now. “Why?”

“Because,” Buffy said. “I didn’t get to look this way by eating dinner. Or lunch.”

“Huh,” Xander said. “Well, touché, I guess.”

“Besides,” Buffy said. Picking up her purse. At the bottom of which she’d quickly stashed the USB when he wasn’t looking.

“I already got exactly what I needed.”

When Buffy returned to her apartment, she took a long, hot shower. Scrubbing herself clean.

When she finally emerged, she retrieved the USB from her purse and plugged it into
her personal laptop.

“Jesus,” Buffy swore. As she began scrolling through the thousands upon thousands of documents and emails.

She checked her phone again. Still no message from William. Part of her felt hurt, but part of her felt relieved. And hated herself for it.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder where he was. What he was doing. She pushed that thought away and shook her head. Then clicked on a random document and began reading.

As the hours turned into days, Buffy spent all of her free time scouring the documents. Thankfully, Xander hadn’t called on her again.

The sheer number of words and legalese often leaving her head spinning. So much so that she, gritting her teeth, called in Faith for reinforcements. And a couple of her law firm interns.

Slowly they began piecing things together. A firm that bought the bank that called in the loan in her mom’s museum? A subsidiary of a subsidiary of a company. Owned by Xander Harris III.

“Holy shit,” Faith had whispered.

More was to come. The law firm that her husband formerly worked at? Merged with a white shoe firm. Both of them now on retainer to many companies owned by Xander Harris.

They uncovered an internal email from the night manager
demanding to know why Buffy and William were being offered a suite that was already taken – at the expense of a paying customer – especially when their room was free and clear.

Call me, came the curt reply from the floor manager. Now.

Months later, Xander’s people had reached out to Cribs – inviting them to film an episode of his beachside home. Attaching a peculiar condition – that it ran on repeat in Sunnydale every few hours for an entire month.

“He planned this,” Buffy said. She was so numb she didn’t even feel the anger. “All of it. Right?”

For a moment, Faith looked as bewildered as Buffy.

“I mean, this isn’t a smoking gun, but I’d say it’s pretty loaded B,” Faith said.

Buffy said nothing.

“So what are you gonna do?” Faith asked. Finally.

“We could turn this over to the newspapers, right?” Buffy asked.

“Sure,” Faith said. “But what’s the angle? I mean, this is a private affair, right?”

Buffy found herself gnawing on her lip. Thoughtfully.

“Maybe there’s a better idea,” Faith said.

“And what’s that?” Buffy asked.

“Take that loaded gun,” Faith said. “And aim it right at his head. There’s no telling what we might find.”

“Go on,” Buffy said.

A week later, Buffy quietly slipped out of the ten million dollar apartment – the same day that Faith filed suit against Xander in civil court.

A few weeks later, they found themselves sitting across a table from Xander, Willow and a veritable army of lawyers, Buffy found herself growing a bit nervous. Faith, on the other hand, seemed unruffled.

“Relax B,” she whispered. “It’s nothing but posturing. Half of these guys are interns.”

“Buffy,” Xander said. Smoothly. With the smug look that only someone who could buy his way out of any situation could give.

“I’d like to begin by stating that my client is suing for...” Faith began.

“Emotional pain and personal distress,” Buffy seethed. “Asshole.”

“I’m sorry it’s come to this,” Xander said. So sincerely she almost bought it. “Believe me when I say I never meant to hurt you.”

“Bastard,” Buffy spat. Under her breath.

“Please refrain from addressing my client,” Willow said. Smoothly.

“B,” Faith cautioned. Placing a hand on her arm. “Relax. I got this.”

“Hold up,” Willow said. Turning over the documents and quickly scanning them. “I’m still not sure what the basis of your case is.”

“You don’t know?” Buffy asked Willow. Skeptically. “Or are you just pretending?”

When Willow gave Xander a ‘what don’t I know?’ look, he shrugged.

“You didn’t tell her, did you?” Buffy asked. Folding her arms over her. “What you did.”

“What exactly are you accusing me of?” Xander asked. Reclining his chair back. “Just so we’re clear.”

“You manipulated Buffy,” Faith said. “Called in the credit on her mother’s museum. Got her husband fired from his job. Backed her into a corner so she had no choice to sleep with you for money. All of it with malice and
forethought.”

“You…” Buffy began. The anger choking up her throat.
“You ruined my marriage,” she said. Bitterly. “Just so you could get what you wanted. Do you get that? What you did to me? To Will? Was it worth it?”

Xander paused. He seemed to consider the question.

“Xander,” Willow said. Out of the corner of her mouth. Warning him to say nothing.

“Prove it,” he said. Cockily. It was a dare.

“Oh we can,” Faith said. With grim satisfaction. “And we
will.”

The brunette leaned across the table, then handed over a USB drive to Willow.

“We have the papers to back it up,” Buffy said. With a wry smile. “A-hole.”

“And how did you do that I wonder?” Xander asked. Shooting his army of lawyers a displeased look. One of them rose to his feet and practically fled.

“A whistleblower,” Faith lied. Smoothly. “Someone within your organization who wishes to remain anonymous. Someone
with a conscience.”

“Oh I doubt that,” Xander said. Easily. “I don’t make it a habit to employ anyone with a conscience.”

“Might I have a moment to confer with my client?” Willow asked. Politely.

Rising to her feet with her hand on Xander’s arm as she handed off the USB drive to a flunky. Who also fled. Ostensibly to verify its contents.

“Get up,” she hissed. In his ear. “Now.”

“Relax Will,” he said. “You’re cramping my style.”

When Willow shot him a murderous look, Xander sighed and rose to his feet.

“Excuse me,” he said. Buttoning his coat.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he told Buffy. Who gave him an icy look.

“What?” he asked Willow. Once they were safely outside.

“You didn’t deny it,” Willow noted. Folding her hands over herself.

“So? Xander asked. Blithely.

“You asked how they got the documents,” Willow said. Pointedly. “But you didn’t deny it. I guess you were
having too much fun in there to cover your ass, Xan. Or maybe you’re just getting sloppy in your old age.”

“Hey!” Xander protested. “Come on Will. I thought you were on my side.”

“You told me nothing would happen that they didn’t want to,” Willow said. Folding her arms. “Isn’t that the point of your little game?”

“Oh Buffy wanted to,” Xander said. Cheekily. “Trust me. She just… needed a little incentive.”

“Xan!” Willow said. Looking appalled. “She doesn’t deserve that! No one does! That’s way over the line!”

Suddenly, Xander found himself irritated.

“Why am I explaining myself to you?” he asked. “I mean, you do work for me. Right ”

“Right?” he asked. Fiercely. Willow blinked. Struck by his fervor, she nearly took a step back. But didn’t.

“Yes,” she said. “I work for you.”

“Good,” Xander said. That seemed to calm down a little. “Now, let’s get back in there and crush them.”

Willow merely nodded. But when Xander turned his back on her, he missed the foreboding look she gave him.

Back at the table, the first thing Xander did put both feet up.

“Cigar,” he demanded. To which a faceless assistant popped out of her seat and immediately provided him with it.

Retrieving a lighter from his jacket pocket, Xander immediately lit up.

“I’m gonna you tied up in litigation for years,” he warned Faith. Puffing on his cigar. Finding himself impressed by how suitable unimpressed the brunette managed to look.

Maybe I should hire her, he thought.

“And you,” he said. Addressing Buffy now. “I’m gonna make you famous, Buff. The woman who slept with a billionaire for money. That’s what you’ll be known as. For the rest of your life.”

Enjoying the fleeting look of nervousness that flitted across Buffy’s face as he taunted her.

“Slut-shaming,” Faith said. Shaking her head. “Way to keep it classy my guy.”

“Is that a threat?” Buffy asked.

“That’s a promise,” Xander said.

Willow had listened to all she could. She knew she had to act. And what she had to do.

“Look,” she began. Placing a soft hand on Xander’s arm and squeezing. “Why don’t we all just take a breath here. Take a step back and see how we can solve this.”

When Xander gave her the subtle nod to play good cop, Willow swung into action.

“Buffy,” she began. Her voice soft and soothing. “I don’t know you. And you don’t know me.”

“I know enough,” Buffy snipped. “Working for a man like that.”

I probably deserve that, Willow thought.

“But I know Xander,” she added. “And I know I’ve never him so happy.”

When she shot Xander a look, he jumped in.

“And you’re the reason Buff,” Xander said. “We’re good together. Really good. In the end, isn’t that what really matters?”

The speed with which he went from threatening her to
flattering her left Buffy suffering whiplash.

“You’re right Xan,” Willow chimed in. “Buffy really is the best of them. She’s your best bet.”

Buffy gave Faith a puzzled look.

“Sorry?” Buffy asked. “The best of them? Who is them?”

“The million dollar club,” Willow said. Leaning forward. “You are. You really are.”

“The… the what?” Faith asked. Noting the surprised look on Xander’s face, and the sheer panic on the face of his
lawyers, she knew they’d struck gold.

“The million dollar club,” Willow said. “You know… all of Xander’s women. I mean, there are so many of them. We talked about it, right Buffy? In the apartment?”

“Yeah,” Buffy said. When Willow gave her a follow my lead look. “In the apartment. Right. Of course.”

“Miss Willow,” one of the lawyers said. But Willow was undeterred.

“How many members would you say there are worldwide?” she asked Xander. Guilelessly. “Fifty? Sixty?”

“Mr Harris...” one of his lawyers said. “You don’t have to…”

“You told me you’ve never done that before,” Buffy said. Accusingly. Exchanging a glance with Faith. The brunette looked overjoyed to hear this information.

“Thought you were special, did you?” Xander taunted. Unable to stop himself from taunting her. “That’s the problem with you women. You all think you’re so special.”

“50 sounds about right,” he added. Pompously.

“Remember the real estate lady from Florida?” Willow continued. “Every time you came near her she would convulse into hiccups.”

Xander grinned at the memory.

“Quite a night,” he said. “You don’t even wanna know what I did to get her to stop.”

“Mr Harris...” another attempted to stymie him. But Xander was enjoying himself now.

“The best part is…” he began. “Both parties are clear about what they’re getting right from the start. The money is right on the table. Where everyone can see it.”

“Mr Harris, please!” he heard one of his lawyers cry out.
Only then did Xander come to his senses. He blinked, then turned to look at Willow.

You fucking bitch, he thought. His eyes narrowing. She’d pushed his buttons perfectly. Played him like a fucking fiddle.

And don’t you forget it, Willow thought. Giving him a disdainful look.

“Nothing said here can be used at trial of course,” one of the other lawyers said. Sounding desperate now.

“Of course,” Faith said. “But these things have a way of getting in the press, right? Especially in this Me Too world?”

“Is that a threat?” Xander asked.

Faith said nothing. But her expression said it all. That’s a promise, she said.

“I’m gonna make you famous,” Buffy said. “Your stock will tank. Your shareholders will be pissed. You might even lose your cushy CEO job.”

“Unless we settle this,” Faith added. “Right here. Right now. For lots and lots of money.”

This is gonna cost me a fucking fortune, Xander thought. Fuck.

He looked at Willow out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t help but admire Willow’s ruthlessness. He made the fatal mistake of disrespecting her. And she responded by going scorched earth on his ass.

Reminding him that he needed her as much as she needed him. More, even. Even though he’d never admit it to her.

“Do what you have to do,” he told Willow. Standing and rapping the table with his knuckles twice.

“Buffy,” Xander said. She folded her hands over herself when he looked her up and down. “It was a real pleasure to meet you. And even more of a pleasure to have you.”

“I’m afraid the pleasure was all yours,” Buffy responded. Through gritted teeth.

“And that’s another O on the end of the cheque,” Faith added.

Xander merely chuckled. He turned to go, then paused.

“Give William my regards, will you?” he asked Buffy. “And tell him… I’ll be in touch.”

Before Buffy could ask him what he meant, he’d turned and walked out of the conference room.

“So,” Faith asked. “We clear on what we’re asking for? The number, the therapy, the public service?”

Faith could see Buffy was still uncomfortable about it.

“I need him to pay Faith,” Buffy said. “I need him to hurt. For what he did to me. To Will.”

“C’mon B,” she said. “We already discussed it. A trial could take years. And in the end it all comes down to the almighty dollar anyway. We have this motherfucker over a barrel right now.”

Just then, Buffy’s cellphone buzzed.

She opened her purse and checked it.

“What?” Faith asked. Seeing Buffy’s complexion turning ghostly white.

“It’s Will,” Buffy whispered. “He wants to meet.”

“Now?” Faith asked.

“I have to go,” Buffy said. “You got this?”

“I got this,” Faith says. “I got you B. Trust me. I’ll make him hurt.”

Buffy inhaled deeply. Then, shutting her eyes, rose to her feet.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I have to…”

“Goodbye Buffy,” Willow said. “And good luck.”

The women locked eyes.

Thank you, she wanted to say.

“You too,” Buffy said instead.

An hour later, when she turned up to her new apartment, she saw him waiting outside. When he looked up, they just stared at each other for a moment. Then he looked away.

He looked terrible, Buffy thought. Gaunt. His eyes sunken.
She could tell he hadn’t been sleeping and eating much, if at all. It made her heart wrench.

“Hi,” Buffy said. Softly.

“Hi,” William said. Softly.

“Do you…do you wanna come inside?” she asked. Hesitantly.
He shook his head.

“You said… you wanted to meet,” Buffy began.

“Yeah,” William said. His voice hoarse and scratchy. “I just wanted to say…. I’m sorry, yeah. For… everything.”

“Me too,” Buffy said. Hastily. “I’m sorry too. I mean, you were totally right. I never should have…”

Buffy knew she was babbling now. But she couldn’t stop.

“I love you, you know,” he blurted out. That stopped her in her tracks.

“Still?” she asked. Hopefully.

“Always,” he said.

When he smiled weakly at her, Buffy’s heart jumped for joy.

“I love you too,” she said. Softly.

“Still?” he asked. Wryly.

“Always,” she said. Which made him chuckle.

“Maybe we could grab a…” she began. She stepped forward eagerly.

Suddenly, William stepped back. Shaking his head.

The somber look on his face gave her pause. Buffy felt her heart drop into her stomach.

“I… I confronted him,” William said.

“Oh,” Buffy said. Softly. “When?”

“After,” he said. Simply. They both knew what he meant.

“What…” she began. “What did he say?”

William shook his head. Buffy could see whatever Xander had said had wounded William deeply.

“Will,” she began softly. “Do you… do you wanna talk about it?”

“Do you?” he asked.

“Not particularly,” she said. Letting out a weak little laugh.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“You…” William began. “You were attracted to him, right? From the beginning?”

Buffy gnawed on her lower lip for a moment.

“Yes,” she breathed.

William exhaled also. Then nodded to himself. He’d suspected as much.

“Why Faith?” she asked. Sincerely.

“Because,” William said. He looked back at her. Blinking slowly. “I wanted to hurt you. Like… you hurt me.”

“Mission Accomplished to quote Dubya,” Buffy said. Giving him a mock salute. She’d meant to play if off as a joke, found herself wincing at how bitter she sounded.

“I mean, you always said you she wasn’t your type,” she added. Weakly.

William waited. Until they both realized Buffy had asked a question.

“She was there,” William said. Gently. “I guess… that’s all I needed that night. A warm body.”

A long silence followed. It was his turn, Buffy knew. She steeled herself.

“Was… was Xander good?” he asked. Finally.

She just stared at him for a moment. Wide-eyed. Wondering if he actually expected her to answer that. She didn’t know what to say.

“Was Faith?” Buffy asked.

William audibly paused. He looked down, unable to meet her eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. Softly. His eyes were moist, she saw.

Buffy felt her own eyes fill with water.

He wasn’t trying to hurt her, she knew. He just wanted the truth.

“Yes,” Buffy said. Finally. “He was good.”

That pained him, Buffy saw. Cut him to the quick.

“Was he?” William began. His voice caught in his throat. “Was he better than me?”

Oh Will, she thought. Oh sweetheart. Why are you torturing yourself like this?

Buffy found herself torn. Part of her wanted nothing more than to soothe his hurt. The other wanted to be honest with him. So she said the only thing she could.

“It was only sex Will,” Buffy said. Softly.

For a moment, he looked stricken. As if his worst fears had been realized. It wrenched Buffy’s heart. She stepped closer. She could almost reach out and touch him. But found herself afraid to.

“Just sex. Not love. Not what we…” Buffy began. Her eyes pleading with him. To let her explain herself. For him to understand. If only I could touch him, she thought. If only I could make him see.

“Can we just…” she began. At last, he looked at her again.
“Someday,” he said. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“But.. but not today?” she asked. Mournfully.

“Not today,” he said. Shaking his head. Then he turned on his heels and walked away.

Buffy stood there for a few moments. Dazed. Confused. Then, as if waking up from a dream, snapped out of it. She withdrew her keys from her purse, then opened her
apartment door.

Once inside, she gently shut it, then placed the keys, purse and cellphone on the table.

Buffy just sat there in her cold, empty apartment. Never had she felt more alone than in that moment. She didn’t know how much time passed before her cellphone rang.

“Yea?” she said. Sounding as tired as she felt.

“It’s over B,” Faith said. “We got everything we wanted. And more.”

“K,” Buffy said softly.

“You okay?” Faith asked.

“I just… I can’t right now,” Buffy said. “Call me in a couple days. Okay?”

“Okay,” Faith said. "I'll send over the settlement papers for you to sign."

Buffy hung up, then found herself sinking into her couch and curling into a ball. Into a dreamless, deep sleep.

When Buffy awoke, she was surrounded by the darkness. She rose heavily, then walked over to the kitchen.

Made herself a cup of coffee and opened her phone. For a while, she aimlessly scrolled social media. Noting how happy everyone looked. How fulfilled and full of life.

Maybe it’s just me, she wondered. Or maybe everyone else is pretending too.

Finally, she retired to her bedroom. Turning her night light on, she picked up the book she’d left on her nightstand. She examined its cover.

The author’s name in big, bold letters was almost to the point of parody: PAULO COELHO

Then the title underneath: Veronika Decides to Die

It was the shadowy figure on the cover that drew her to the book in the window. Made her halt in her tracks. It was the title that made her pick it up.

A brisk 210 pages later and couple of boxes of Kleenexes later, Buffy found herself picking the book up and reading it again. It wasn’t the greatest book she’d ever read. Not even close. But for some reason it just spoke to her. She’d read it at least thrice over the past week.

By the time she turned its final page, Buffy’s weary eyes could take no more. She glanced over at her bedside clock. It was past 1 am.

She swore under her breath, then opened her bedside drawer. To stow it away, for the time being at least.
But before she could stuff the book inside, her eyes fell on it.

The phone. The special phone. The one Willow had given her in Xander’s apartment.

Buffy stared at it. She’d left everything at the apartment, hadn’t she? The clothes, the shoes, the bags. All of it.

She found herself running that day over and over again in her mind. Every stop. Every move. She had absolutely no memory of taking the phone with her. Much less placing in the bedside drawer of her new apartment.

Then, Buffy found herself struck by another thought. Had he planted it? Was he messing with her? Watching her? Stalking her?

For a moment, Buffy looked around nervously. Then snorted. Feeling like a dumb blonde in a slasher fic.

You’re being ridiculous, she told herself. You probably just put it in your pocket and forgot. That’s all, ya big, stupid dummy.

Buffy picked it up in her right hand, then rolled over to the far side of the bed. Reached out for her cute penguin trash can. Only to find her hand grasping at air.

“Huh,” Buffy said. She looked around. But found it absent. She rolled back over, then put the phone in her drawer and slammed it shut.

Making a mental note to dump it in the garbage tomorrow.

A couple of hours later, Buffy found her eyelids heavy but sleep absent. She found herself tossing and turning in her cold, empty bed.

She staring at the ceiling. Wondered where William was. If he was alone or with someone.

Someone who looks like me? Someone who looks like Faith? Buffy couldn’t decide which was worse.

She hugged her pillow even tighter. Aching for sleep that never came. Suddenly, Buffy could take no more. The loneliness. The emptiness. All of it. It was too much.

She found herself turning her nightlight on. Then, rolling over, opened the drawer. She reached inside and pulled out the phone. Holding it in her hands, she stared at it.
Absurdly, finding herself tempted to turn it on.

It would only be once, Buffy thought. Biting her lip. Just for a little while. To forget.

A moment later, Buffy came to her senses. And shook that thought clean out of her head. Then, placing the phone back in the drawer, slammed it firmly shut.

Turning her nightlight off, she grabbed her pillow and smashing it with her tiny fists, turned onto her side. Once again in search of dreamless sleep.

Meanwhile…

Xander was smoking his fifth cigar of the night when Willow finally came into his office.

“Do I even wanna know?” he asked.

“Nope,” Willow said. Sounding exhausted.

Xander made a sour face.

“Tell the accountants I want it written off my taxes,” he said.

“That might be a little difficult,” Willow said. “Given that you don’t pay any.”

He grunted with displeasure.

“Anything else?” Willow asked.

“Speaking of the million dollar club,” Xander began. Enthusiastically.

“We weren’t,” Willow said. Pointedly.

“I have a new contender,” he said. Tossing a folder onto his desk.

“Xan,” Willow sighed heavily. Then picked it up and opened it.

“Dawn Wyndam-Price,” Willow said. Crinkling up her nose as she read the bio. “Another blonde? Really?”

“Gentlemen prefer blondes,” Xander said. “I want $15 million transferred into the account tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that a bit steep?” Willow asked. Her eyebrows raising.

“You get what you pay for Will,” Xander said.

Willow could hear the anger in his voice, though he worked hard to contain it. She knew what that meant. Since he couldn’t punish her, he’d have to settle for someone else.

“I wanna try something new, Will,” Xander declared. “Something… stimulating.”

“Do I even wanna know?” she asked. The question was rhetorical.

But Xander replied anyway.

“I’m gonna sleep with Dawn,” Xander declared. “And make her loving husband Wesley bear witness.”

Willow shook her head. Then scoffed in disbelief.

“Xan,” she said. “Be serious. This is way fucked up even for you.”

“Way I see it,” Xander said. “The least poor Wes deserves is a few million extra to ease the heartache.”

“Seriously?” Willow asked. Finding herself taken aback.

“You wanna do this? After the defcon 1 shitstorm I just averted?”

“Don’t worry Will,” Xander soothed. At the appalled look on her face. “Nothing will happen that either of them don’t want to. I promise.”

That phrase made Willow see red.

“What?” he asked.

“No,” Willow said.

“What?” he asked. In disbelief. The cigar falling out of his mouth.

“No,” Willow said. Firmly. “I’m done cleaning up your messes, Xan. I can’t stand by and watch you destroy another happy marriage for your own amusement I’m done.”

“Will,” he called. She halted at the door. “Come on. Don’t do this.”

“Call me when you grow up Xander,” Willow said. “Or don’t.”

Then slammed the door shut behind her.

“Unfuckingbelievable,” Xander said. “Fuck.”

He picked up his ashtray, and then threw it against the window. Only for it to limply bounce off.

Fucking window is bulletproof, he remembered. Goddamit. Fuck. Shit.

Xander found himself stewing with anger. He sat in his chair for a while. Picking up the cigar and examining it carefully.

Goddamn it, he thought. Fucking Willow. That’s twice she fucked me twice today. Fucking cunt. Fucking bitch.

“Fuck,” Xander screamed. Slamming his hand on the mahogany table. Then winced. “Ow. Motherfucker.”

When, Xander’s eyes fell on the file on his table, he forgot all about the pain. All about Willow.

He picked it up, opened it and began devouring its contents about Dawn and Wesley. Very much liking what he saw. Dawn was the girl next door. A good girl. Kind. Gentle. Moral. Sweet. She taught at a nursery, while Wesley was a young English teacher.

They’d waited until she graduated to start dating. Then married last year. Unable to afford a honeymoon, they’d put it off – until now. The fact that Dawn and Wesley were basically newlyweds sent a delicious thrill through Xander.

Suddenly, all he could think about was getting the gorgeous young blonde in his bed. And making her husband watch.

I’ll see you real soon Dawn, he thought. Grinning. Real soon.

A moment later, Xander’s cellphone buzzed. He looked at the number. It was his head of security. He picked up the phone.

“Yeah?” he asked. Shortly.

“They met,” the gruff voice said. “Today.”

“And?”

“They went their separate ways,” the voice added. “That’s what my guy says.”

“Hmmmm,” Xander said. Putting his feet up on the table. “Well, I want an eye kept on them. I wanna be informed of any… developments. Spare no expense.”

“Yes, Mr Harris,” the voice said.

Xander tossed his phone aside, walked over to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink.

Don’t worry you two, Xander thought. Raising his glass in a silent toast to Buffy and William. The three of us are far from finished. And that’s a promise.

A year later…

William had been sorting their mail for the past half hour when he finally looked up.

Buffy was on the couch. Happily chatting away with the CEO of the cancer non-profit she’d founded in honour of her late mother. She was an extremely active board member – conducting drives, soliciting donations, organising events.

Even now, on a lazy Sunday evening, she had spent the past hour brainstorming how they could take things to the next level. And William had never been prouder.

It had been six months since they reconciled. They'd rented a new apartment. Renewed their vows. Moved on. Together.

William had become a public defender. The money wasn’t good but he found there was nothing more he loved than helping the helpless.

He looked down again. Then sighing, tossed another piece of junk onto the pile.

Next came a small, cream-coloured envelope. There was no name. No return address. Just four words.

For Your Eyes Only

William frowned. He weighed it in his hand. It was exceedingly light.

Retrieving a letter opener now, he carefully cut it open.

Then placing his hand underneath it, turned it over. A
tiny USB drive fell into the palm of his hand.

Huh, William thought. Examining it. That’s weird innit.

“I’m leaving now Meg,” Buffy said. Rising to her feet, clutching her phone via her shoulder, she grabbed up her coat. “I’ll meet you there. You have the address right? Cool.”

“Will,” Buffy said. Slightly irritably.

“Yeah?” he asked. Closing his palm around the USB and letting it hand by the side.

“Honey, I gotta go,” Buffy said. Slightly apologetically.

“What, now?” he asked. Slightly miffed. “I thought we were gonna…”

“Remember that company that big-timed us?” Buffy said.

“Yeah,” William said. Warily.

“Well, their CEO just called Meghan. Wants to set up a meet. Like now. Like right now,” Buffy said. Sounding giddy.

“Great!” William said. Enthusiastically. “You’ll be fantastic luv. Don’t sweat it.”

“I’ll be back in an hour,” Buffy promised. Then seemed to reconsider it. “Two tops. With Chinese food.”

“It’s a date,” William said. Smiling at her.

Buffy gave him a goofy grin and an even goofier wave. And then she was gone.

William found himself carefully the USB. It seemed like a regular USB.

Then the envelope again. Again, it looked like a perfectly regular envelope.

But for those four strange words.

For Your Eyes Only

Huh, William thought. Again. Strange.

He casually pocketed the pen drive and threw the letter in the trash.

Then decided it was time to watch a little football on the telly.

He walked over to the living room and then flopped down on the sofa.

A half hour later, William was in an exceedingly good mood.

He’d enjoyed a couple of beers as he’d watched his boys Man Utd put the boots to Arsenal.

“Two-nil!” he was chanting. Alongside the far more sozzled revelers at the ground.

Finally, William turned off his TV. Then decided to check his email.

He walked over to his man cave, got in his chair and turned on his laptop. For a few minutes he checked his mail. Updates from his bosses at the PD. Checked the statuses of cases he was working.

Then, he remembered the pen drive in his pocket.

He dug it out, then plugged it into the crummy laptop he’d received from his office. It immediately asked what he wanted to do. Scan for viruses, of course.

A minute later, the task was done. No viruses found, the anti-virus dutifully reported.

Now, William clicked on This PC. Drives and Devices showed three options – his own C: an D: as well as the USB as F:.

William moved his cursor to F: and double-clicked. The USB had just two files.

One was labelled Buffy.

The other was labelled For Your Eyes Only.

What? he thought. Buffy? For Your Eyes Only? What the fuck?

William found himself growing uneasy. Part of him wanted to rip out the USB and toss it in the garbage. But another part of him was curious.

“Whatchu doing?” he heard his wife ask. William looked up to see Buffy standing at the door of his office.

“Nothing,” William said. “Hey. You're back. What happened? How was it?”

The words were coming far too quickly.

“Jerk of a CEO stood us up,” she sighed.

“You're not watching porn are you?” Buffy said. Sounding as if she was cross.

“No,” he said. Defensively.

“Are you sure?” Buffy said wryly. “Because you seemed kind of spaced out there.”

“I'm not,” William said, shutting the laptop screen. He subtly disconnected the USB from the laptop and put it in his pocket. “I promise.”

“You'd better not,” Buffy warned. Then smiled. “I’m gonna go take a bath. I feel filthy.”

“Cool,” William said. He waited for a minute. Then another. When he finally heard the shower running, he plugged in the USB again. This time he selected open drive.

And there sat the two videos again.

Buffy

For Your Eyes Only

William stared at them both. He moved his cursor to the
file named Buffy. Then paused and looked. His door was still shut. He could still faintly hear the sound of the shower down the hallway.

When he double-clicked on the video nothing happened.

Then, a few seconds later, it finally opened with VLC player.

The first thing he saw was Buffy. Sitting on a bed in a silken black raincoat.

The video seemed to have been recorded in high definition. Everything was crystal clear.

“Alone at last,” Buffy said. Amorously. Aiming a sultry stare straight down the camera lens.

William found himself confused.

Buffy sent me the USB? Why would she do that ? Is this her idea of some kinky sex game? Spicing things up in the bedroom?

William stood. Intending to call out to her and straighten this out. When he heard a male voice speak.

“Buff,” the voice said. “Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

William felt like he’d been struck by a thunderbolt. He knew that voice. It was unmistakable. Him.

The camera angle switched now. Giving an overview of the room.

Xander Lavelle Harris was standing on one side of the room. Slowly approaching the bed. All the while his wife fiddled with the raincoat.

What the fuck? William thought. His eyes went as wide as saucers. His mouth went dry. His heart began to hammer in his chest.

“I'll give you a lot more than that,” Buffy said. Smiling that perfect smile, she enticingly rubbed her right leg against her calf.

The billionaire now began taking off his jacket.

“How did you get in here?” Xander asked. Sounding merely curious as he hung it on a leather chair.

“Come on,” Buffy pouted now. Like a little girl. Fiddling with the straps of the raincoat. “It's a party. Aren't you going to unwrap your present?”

He saw Buffy bite her lip and strike a sensual pose on the bed. Watched her smooth down the raincoat so that her nipples were straining against the fabric.

Xander had begun to unknot his tie now.

“Tell me how,” Xander said. Taking another step closer to the bed.

Buffy sighed irritably.

“I slipped your doorman a thousand dollars,” she said. Her voice impatient. “You should fire him.”

Now, Xander grinned. He’d begun rolling up his sleeves now.

“I'm giving him a raise,” he said. Cheekily. By now, he’d taken another two steps forward. He was standing right besides the bed now.

His wife, meanwhile, had scooted forward and sat up on her haunches.

William nervously glanced at the time remaining: 2 minutes, 15 seconds.

“So what changed?” Xander asked.

“I heard you were in town,” Buffy said. Her voice low and soft.

Now, her hands were beginning to undo his shirt buttons. And the billionaire’s hands were on her waist.

“And I guess I was surprised how glad I was,” she said.
Softly.

It finally hit William. What he was watching. Buffy seducing Xander. After she found out he’d slept with Faith.

Her payback, as Xander had put it.

Yet again, William found himself consumed with guilt. At having cheated on his wife. At having pushed her unwittingly into Xander’s bed.

He looked at the video again. 1 minute, 45 seconds to go.

“It's funny,” his wife said. Leaning close to Xander. He saw Buffy bend her head and tease his lips with hers before pulling back slightly.

“How you see someone... but not really see them, you know?”

William could see her eyes were flicker with pain and hurt, William saw.

She’s talking about me, he thought. About us.

“Yeah,” the billionaire said. Insincerely. Clearly, he wasn’t buying her words.

“It's funny. And it's just getting funnier....”

“Shhhh,” Buffy said. She’d pressed a finger to his lips now.

“I guess I got tired of lying to myself,” Buffy said. Undoing a button on his shirt. Then another. “About how much I want you.”

William knew exactly what Buffy was doing. And why Buffy was saying it. But it still gutted him to hear her say it. Especially after her admission that she’d been attracted to Xander from the very beginning.

“I want you Xander,” she said huskily. Her finger still on his lips. “And I know you want me.”

William saw his wife drop her finger down to his chin. Her mouth began moving towards his. Lips forming into a tantalizing 'O.'

Stop, William told himself. You have to…

He glanced at the time left. Just 45 seconds or so to go.
Just then, he saw his wife push the billionaire away from her. Then, striking a suggestive pose, was was letting out a sultry laugh.

“Lose the shirt,” Buffy ordered. In a commanding tone.

Xander responded by whipping it off and letting it fall to the floor. Then just stood there. Displaying his absolutely ripped physique. His upper body was muscular without being bulky. Not an inch of fat on his stomach. At least a six-pack.

Meanwhile, Buffy had sat up a little. To appraise him.

“Not bad,” she said dismissively. But the desire in her eyes was plain as day. As was the tiny tremble in her voice.

“Your turn,” Xander said. Wearing a smirk William absolutely loathed.

“What makes you think I'm wearing anything under this raincoat?” Buffy asked playfully.

William found himself alarmed when Buffy, still toying with the hem of her outfit, parted it slightly.

Tantalizingly flashing a whole heap of tanned golden breast. Then snapping it shut.

“Now the pants,” Buffy said. Bossily. “Slowly.”

Xander chuckled. Slowly, he undid his belt buckle before pulling it out of its loop and dropping it onto the floor.

“Mmmm,” she said. Her voice throaty and appreciative as she eyed his Satin boxer shorts. And what was contained therein. “Nice.”

“Say it,” the billionaire suddenly said. “Say the words.”

William saw his wife hesitate. Her cute as a button nose
flared. As she struggled with herself for a moment.

“Come to bed, Xander,” Buffy said. Scooting back now and making those oh-so-familiar bedroom eyes. Her words broke William’s heart all over again.

Now, the billionaire had joined her on the bed. Planting his knees on it, he’d begun moving towards her. Slowly.

“I won't stop this time,” Xander said. Firmly.

To William’s ears, this was a warning and a vow.

“Is that a promise?” Buffy asked. Playfully.

The camera angle switched now. To behind them both.

William watched as Buffy began to slip the raincoat off her shoulders. Then leaned back a little and spread her arms either side of her. Letting it slide off. Slowly.

William saw Buffy’s bare back being revealed as Xander stepped even closer to her. Grinning manically. As Xander moved to take Buffy in his arms, the video faded to black.

A moment later, William heard Xander chuckling and Buffy letting out a coquettish giggle.

And then the video ended.

William just sat there. In shock.

He let out a shaky breath. Here it was. Evidence of Buffy’s unfaithfulness. He knew it had happened, of course. They’d talked about both their infidelities.

About it. Around it. In therapy and out of it.

William had thought about it less and less since over the past few months. Or tried to, at least. But seeing it in all its high-definition glory opened the wound afresh.

Then he realized what day it was. He looked at the calendar on his laptop for confirmation and got it. The day he’d served Buffy with divorce papers last year.

Immediately, William knew exactly what this video was – one final ‘fuck you’ from Xander Lavelle Harris III. With a ‘P.S. I fucked your wife mate and don’t you forget it’.

“Son of a bitch,” William whispered.

Son of a bitch planned all of it, William thought. For who knows how long. Sick fuck. Motherfucker. Cocksucker.

William tried not to. He really did. But he found himself unable to keep from watching the video again. This time paying close attention to Buffy.

Taking in his wife’s every word. Every expression that played across her perfect face –pain, grief, anger, desire – as she played the role of seductress to the hilt.

Then, he turned his attention to Xander. Taking in the billionaire’s smug, self-satisfied expression. His movements deliberate and drawn out.

Secure in the knowledge of what he’d been so desiring these past few months was finally within his grasp.

William couldn’t help himself. He watched the clip over and over again. Scrutinising every detail. Until he knew every beat.

Finally, he sat back in his chair. In mournful silence. His mind, body and heart in turmoil as he recalled in excruciating detail the conversation he had with Buffy that day.

“Was… was Xander good?”

“Yes. He was good.”

William sat back in his chair. Trying to take it all in.

The mail addressed to him. On the anniversary of the day he’d served Buffy with divorce papers.

The USB. The two clips. One marked ‘Buffy’. The other ‘For Your Eyes Only’.

He’s fucking with you mate, he told himself. He’s just sore Buffy picked you over him. Don’t give him the bleedin’ satisfaction.

Still, he found himself staring at that other clip now.

For Your Eyes Only

As it just sat there. Mocking him. Taunting him. Daring him to open it.

What the fuck is it? William wondered.

He leaned forward, then carefully right-clicked on the video, and opened the properties tab.

The file name was ‘For Your Eyes Only’.

Type of file: MP4

Opens with:

Location: F:

Size: 7.84gb

William was no tech expert, but even he knew that meant that the video was of considerable length.

He clicked on the file details tab. The description was the same as the title – ‘For Your Eyes Only’.

Subtitle:

Rating: Unrated

Tags:

Comments:

Length: 06:14:44

That gave William pause. He stared at the figure. Trying to make sense of it.

Six hours, fourteen minutes and 44 seconds, he thought.

“Six hours, fourteen minutes and 44 seconds,” William whispered.

Then, the memory of Buffy standing on their staircase in their home returned to him. After he’d spent a sleepless
night wondering where she was.

I was with Xander, she’d told him. Looking as defiant as she did lovely.

Doing what? he’d asked. Thoroughly gobsmacked by her admission.

Use your imagination, she’d told him. Coldly. Xander sure as hell did.

We were up all night, his wife had said. Doing every nasty thing you can think of. Twice.

Six hours, fourteen minutes and 44 seconds, William thought again.

Then, it finally sunk in. What Xander had sent him. What he had in his possession.

A recording of the night Buffy and Xander had spent together. Every minute of it.

Son of a bitch, William thought. Motherfucker. Cocksucker.
Finding himself shaking with rage. Gripping the chair so
tight his knuckles at turned white.

“No,” William said. Suddenly. Shaking his head furiously.
This is exactly what he wants, mate. To drive you and
Buffy apart, he told himself.

Suddenly, William knew what he had to do. Delete the videos. Throw away the USB. Bury the past.

Quickly, he moved his cursor over to selected both videos. His finger moved to the delete button.

She loves me, he told himself. Finger hovering over the button. What does it matter what happened between them? It
doesn't. It's in the past. It doesn't mean a damn thing.

She loves me. She chose me. Not him. Me. Not him. Me.

Then he remembered Buffy’s words.

It was only sex, Will, she’d said. Her voice soft. Caring. Not love. Not what we…

Only sex, he thought to himself. Not love. Not what we have.

Only sex, he heard Xander’s smug, patronizing voice say.
As if it was right in his ear. William swiveled his head so quickly he found his neck and shoulders sore.

Six hours, fourteen minutes and forty-four seconds worth of sex to be exact, Xander’s voice crowed. In a smooth, self-congratulatory tone.

But not love. Not what you and Buffy have, the voice added. Acidly.

The fuck is happening to me? William wondered. Am I losing my mind?

Suddenly, another memory assailed him. Of standing outside Buffy’s apartment.

Was he better than me? William had asked.

For a moment, William thought he’d glimpsed guilt and panic flash across Buffy’s face. Then it was gone.

It was just sex, his wife had responded. Just sex. Not love. Not what we…

That night, and many nights afterwards, William had wondered if he’d imagined the fleeting expression on her
face.

Buffy never really answered my question, William realised. Not directly.

It was a fact that he’d somehow managed to block out of his mind. Until now.

I have to know, William thought. Suddenly. Desperately. I need to…

William’s finger trembled as he moved the cursor away from both videos and into open space. Then, with a click, he
unselected both of them.

William found his heartbeat quickening as he carefully, he moved his cursor over it. Found his mouth going completely dry. Finding himself holding his breath.

What am I doing? he thought.

He glanced up at the door. To confirm it was still shut.
It was only sex, Buffy had said. Not love. Not what we have.

I have to know, William thought again. I need to…

Taking in a shaky breath, he double-clicked on the video marked ‘For Your Eyes Only’.

Immediately, a little box-popped up.

Password needed, it said.

Please enter the password in the box below.

William blinked twice. Then breathed out. Before he could
do anything, his door opened. It was her.

“Are you coming to bed, honey?” Buffy asked. Gently dabbing at her blonde hair with a soft towel.

Her words, so close to that what she’d said to Xander that night, threw William for a complete loop.

He just stared at her for a few moments. Trying to reconcile her – the woman in front of him, the one he loved most in the world – with the stranger he’d seen on
his screen.

“Yeah,” William said. Finding his voice hoarse, his eyes slightly moist and his throat lumpy. “In a bit.”

Buffy shot him a quizzical look. Tilting her head slightly to one side. William could see the question in her eyes.
She was about to ask him what was wrong.

William forced himself to smile.

“Everything is fine luv,” he assured her. His heart pounding in his chest. “I’ll be right there, yeah?”

That seemed to reassure her if only a little. Clearly, she wasn’t spoiling for a fight. Things had been so much better between them. And she wanted to keep it that way.

“Okay,” she said. Softly. “Just don't stay up too late, hon.”

“Night,” William said.

“Night,” she said.

And then she shutting the door and was walking down the hallway. Leaving him alone in his little home office.

William waited until he was sure she was safely in their bedroom.

What am I doing? he wondered. Again.

I have to know, he thought. I need to know.

As he staring at the little box, typed Buffy as the password.

His fingers trembling again.

He waited a moment, then hit enter.

Password incorrect, it flashed immediately.

Dammit, William thought.

He hesitated, then tried Xander as the password.

Incorrect again.

Xander Harris.

Incorrect.

Xander Harris III.

Incorrect.

Now, William found himself getting agitated.

William, he typed in.

Incorrect.

Then, staring at the screen in frustration, a lightbulb
went off in his head.

For your eyes only, he typed in.

He took a moment to collect himself, then pressed enter.

Still incorrect.

“Fuck,” William growled. He was in utter turmoil now. His chest was heavy. He gave it another thought.

For Your Eyes Only, he typed in.

Then hesitated.

Am I really gonna do this? William wondered.

It was only sex, Will, he heard her say again. Her voice was pleading with him now. Not to do this. To himself. To
them. Not love. Not what we…

I have to know, he thought. Feverishly. Desperately. I need to…

William hit the enter key. And held his breath.

The box disappeared. And nothing happened.

“What the fuck?” William whispered.

Before William could move his cursor, the high-definition video began to play. Immediately picking where the first one left off. Though the camera angle was now on the opposite side of the room.

Buffy had slid the raincoat completely off herself. Showing that she, as had teased, was wearing nothing underneath it.

Though her nakedness was obscured by Xander’s position on the bed right in front of her.

For the first time, William’s ears picked up the soft strains of music in the background. Then, the dulcet tones of a man softly crooning filled the room.

You make it look like it's magic

'Cause I see nobody, nobody but you, you, you

I'm never confused

Hey, hey

I'm so used to being used….

It took William a few moments to place the song. He recognized it from some cheesy romance movie he and Buffy had taken in at a cinema near their home years ago.

Only because he remembered the audience being made up of couples and single women – not a single bloke had come to see the movie by his lonesome.

Most women looked eager and a tad bashful, while their boyfriends and husbands – William very much included – looked embarrassed and put out.

When William blinked, he saw the billionaire had placed his left hand on his wife’s tiny waist. His pricey Patek Phillipe watch still on his wrist.

It was the watch that made it click in William’s mind. He’d seen it in the movie. Which was about a romance between a shy, wholesome young woman and an arrogant, autocratic billionaire.

What? William thought. What the fuck?

Buffy was beaming, William saw. Green eyes aglow, flawless cheeks lit up, perfect lips parted wide, her row of upper teeth brilliantly white.

In anticipation of her payback for what I did with Faith? Her desire for Xander? Or….

William thought back to that evening. He and Buffy had spent the entire time making jokes and flippant remarks. Especially during the lovemaking scenes. Much to the consternation of those sitting around them.

No, he thought. It’s just a coincidence. That’s all.

Then he remembered later that night. How they’d made passionate love. Multiple times.

You were attracted to him from the beginning right? he’d asked.

Yes, she’d admitted. To him. To herself.

William couldn’t help but wonder.

Was his wife acting out some subconscious fantasy with the billionaire?

His heart began to race.

By now, the singer had hit an impossibly high pitch.

So I love when you call unexpected

'Cause I hate when the moment's expected

On the video, he saw Buffy raise her chin as Xander bent his head a little.

No, William thought. Buffy. Please. Don’t. Stop.

But she didn’t. Instead, his wife was turning her face to her favoured left and parting her lips.

So I'ma care for you, you, you…

As the billionaire, leaning forward, turned his face to his left.

I'ma care for you, you, you, you, yeah….

Then, their lips met in a passionate, playful kiss.

It was just sex Will, he heard Buffy say. Emphatically. Just sex. Not love. Not what we…

William could still see Buffy’s lit-up face. Her beaming cheeks and wide smile. Her pearly white teeth. Glittering eyes.

When he furiously blinked that image away, he saw Buffy tilt her head further back.

'Cause girl you're perfect

Xander leaned forward eagerly, turning his face even further to his left.

You're always worth it

The kiss deepened further. Their joined lips making loud, smacking sounds.

And you deserve it

The way you work it

“Mmmmm,” Buffy was moaning. Approvingly.

'Cause girl you earned it

Girl you earned it, yeah

Suddenly, Buffy and Xander both nearly tumbled back. Still kissing, they momentarily teetered back and forth before finding their footing.

You know our love would be tragic (Oh, yeah)
So you don't pay it, don't pay it no mind
We live with no lies

Now, Xander chuckled and Buffy giggled coquettishly.

A moment later, Xander bent a little at the knees. And, winding both arms around Buffy, hoisted her up and into the air.

Hey, hey
You're my favorite kind of night

William could only watch with growing horror as the billionaire now began kissing the holy hell out of his wife.

You're my favorite kind of night

“Mmmmppph,” Buffy moaned. Straight into Xander’s mouth. “Mmmmmm.”

Sounding ecstatic to William’s ears. Xander responded with a guttural growl.

So I love when you call unexpected
'Cause I hate when the moment's expected

It was just sex Will, he remembered her saying. Just sex. Not love. Not what we…

The camera angle shifted again. To overlooking the bed from the far side of the room.

Xander was holding Buffy up with one hand now. They were still kissing. Slowly, the billionaire began carrying his wife across the bed.

So I'ma care for you, you, you
I'ma care for you, you, you, you, yeah

By now, Buffy had wrapped her long, shiny legs – at the end of which dangled six-inch ‘fuck me’ pumps – around Xander’s trim waist.

'Cause girl you're perfect (Girl, you're perfect)

You're always worth it (You're always worth it)

And you deserve it (And you deserve it)

The way you work it (The way you work it)

She was running her soft hands all over Xander’s shoulders and back. Enjoying the feel of his toned, muscled flesh.

On that lonely night (Lonely night)

You said it wouldn't be love

His slow, deliberate movements only heightening her anticipation. The fervour of the kiss only grew,

But we felt the rush
It made us believe it there was only us (Only us)
Convinced we were broken inside, yeah, inside, yeah

Just sex Will, she’d said. Softly. Not love. Not what we…

Just sex, Xander said. In a mocking, merciless tone.

That’s what the missus said. Good one, eh?

When their lips finally parted so that they could draw breath, Xander’s breathing was heavy but steady. Buffy’s breathing was ragged. She was sighing heatedly.

You're always worth it (You're always worth it)
'Cause girl you're perfect (Girl, you're perfect)

Now, she was planting hungry kisses on Xander’s neck and shoulders.

And you deserve it (And you deserve it)
The way you work it (The way you work it)

Not what you and Buffy have, Xander crowed. That’s for damn sure, mate.

The girl in question had extended her right hand across his shoulders. Anchoring herself to him. The billionaire placed his right hand on the bed. Then, stabilizing himself for a moment, laid his wife down.

'Cause girl you earned it, yeah
Girl you earned it, yeah (Earned it, no, no, ooh)

Buffy was placing her left hand behind her to break her own fall but it was unneeded. Her head found the pillow perfectly. Her golden locks bounced a little before settling around her oval face.

Girl you earned it, yeah (Earned it, no, no, ooh)

The camera angle changed to the side of the bed, then zoomed in tight. Until only their faces were filling the screen.

Xander was leaning over Buffy now. A knowing smirk playing across his face. A wicked gleam in his eyes.

'Cause girl you're perfect

Mine, Xander’s eyes seemed to say. Tonight, you’re all mine.

Buffy, William thought. Don’t. Please. Stop. Please.
Instead, his wife parted her mouth. He soft, pink tongue flickered teasingly against her lips. Her eyes dark and inviting.

You're always worth it

Xander responded by dipping his head and flicking out his own tongue.

It was just sex Will, he heard Buffy say. Again. So softly he barely heard her. Just sex. Not love. Not what we…

And you deserve it

When their mouths met in another torrid, passionate kiss, William could take no more.

He grabbed the laptop and flung it into the nearest wall. Barely even registering the thudding sound as it shattered on impact.

He just sat there for a while. Trying to process what he’d witnessed. Was it just revenge for Buffy? Or something else entirely?

I asked her how it was and she said it was good, William thought.

Buffy lied to me, William thought again. She fuckin’ lied to me. I asked her how it was and she said…

It was just sex, his wife had insisted. Just sex. Not love. Not what we…

But the little he’d seen with his own eyes, it was more than just sex. More than just good sex. This was great sex.

Incredible sex mate, Xander’s voice in his head quipped. Sounding exceedingly chuffed with himself. Mind-blowing, headpost rattling, bed shaking, life-changing coitus. A once-in-a-lifetime lay. Her lifetime, I mean.

William just sat there for a long time. Finding himself overwhelmed by all the usual emotions – grief, anger, hurt, guilt – and ones he couldn’t even begin to name.

Already, William knew he’d made a terrible mistake. He’d played right into that bastard’s hands. Opened his own wounds afresh.

Worse, he’d violated his wife’s privacy. He had absolutely no right to know anything about what happened between Buffy and Xander – beyond what she’d already told him.
Much less see it with his own eyes.

“Fuck,” William swore. Finding himself unable to get what
he’d seen out of his head.

Worse, he could feel the makings of a splitting headache coming on. Already, his head was throbbing and his eyes were watery.

Finally, William he knew what he had to do. He rose, then walked over to the far corner of the room. He knelt and picked his shattered laptop in his hand. The USB was still plugged in. His fingers moved to the USB slot, then roughly yanked it out.

He held it in his hand for a moment. Staring at it. Then, rising to his feet, walked over to his desk and dumped it into the trash bin under his desk.

William allowed himself one last shudder and a sob, then wiped his eyes.

It’s over, William told himself. It’s in the past. Time to let it go, mate. No point digging up the past mate. Just let it go. Move on.

William exhaled. Then walked out of his study with heavy feet. When he finally entered their bedroom, the sight of his wife in repose made him halt in his tracks.

She looked so beautiful. Like an angel. So sweet. So innocent.

She loves me, William thought. I know she does. We’ve made a life together. Even after everything. We’ve forgiven
each other, haven’t we? Isn’t that all that matters?

William found himself considering all these things as he stared at Buffy.

My Buffy, he thought. My sweet, small, precious wife. Mine.

That thought brought a small smile to William’s lips.

Yours eh? He heard that low, sinister voice say. Again. You sure about that, mate?

Suddenly, he was back at the foot of their old home and Buffy was on the staircase. Looking down at him with disdain and disgust. For him. And for herself.

We were up all night, she said. Doing every nasty thing you can think of. Twice.

That’s right mate, Xander added. In a faux British accent. Me and your precious Buffy indulged in all manner of depravity. Things she would never do with you. Things you wouldn’t even think to suggest to your beloved wife. All. Night. Long. Mate.

William found himself gripped by an unspeakable terror. That what Buffy had said that day was true.
I have to know, William found himself thinking. I need to…
Suddenly, he found himself back in his study. On his hands and knees, he was digging the pen drive out of the trash.
For a moment, he just held it in his hand. Staring at it.

What am I doing? William wondered. Again. What the fuck am I…

William found himself opening up his drawer, then stashing it inside. He made sure to lock it and slipping the key into his pocket.

Now, all he found himself wanting to do was curl up in a ball. And forget.

Finally, William returned to their bedroom. Taking the utmost care not to wake Buffy, he got under the covers.
This was usually the part where he'd spoon up against her. Bringing her close to him. Holding her as she loved to be held.

But he couldn't bring himself to. Not tonight. Instead William just lay there. In the dark. Alone. Staring at his sleeping wife.

Meanwhile, in his 26th floor office, Xander leaned back in his leather chair. Surveying the scene with a broad grin.

Buffy sound asleep in bed. William, wide awake, watching her. A haunted, stricken look on his face.

The moment William had plugged in the USB into his laptop, his Israeli tech experts had begun to do his bidding. Within moments, they’d taken over every smart device in the home. Their TVs. Their Alexas. Even their goddamn refrigerator.

Letting Xander monitor everything that was happening in their happy home. In every room. On the many large screen TVs mounted in his office.

Ten million dollars well spent, Xander thought.

Xander had watched with growing amusement as William had played the first video. Over and over and over again. Watching his wife’s little seduction ploy.

His expression when he put two and two together about what he had was absolutely priceless.

Then, Xander had paid close attention as William battled himself to keep from watching the second clip. And failing. Much to Xander’s delight.

Then, William’s struggle to figure out the password – so obvious Xander had rolled his eyes. Then put his feet up on the table and loosened his tie.

When William finally entered the correct password, Xander swung his feet off his desk.

“Finally,” he said. Clapping his hands together, he rose from his chair. Then took two steps forward to approach the large TV that was streaming William through his laptop webcam.

“Go on Willie. You know you want to,” Xander said. Gleefully.

When William finally pressed enter, the clip began. Showing himself and Buffy making out. Xander found himself cackling at the heartbroken look on William’s face.

Absolutely priceless, the billionaire thought. Grinning.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Xander taunted. “I told you nothing would happen that Buffy didn’t want to. As you can see for yourself, she wanted to. She really, really wanted to.”

Xander momentarily turned to the other large screen that was mirroring William’s laptop. Now, he and Buffy were locked in a steamy kiss and he was carrying her to the centre of the bed.

The sight brought back flashes of his long, memorable night with William’s beloved wife. For a moment, Xander was content to savour the many beautiful memories he and Buffy had made together.

“Man that was hot stuff,” he said. Letting out a low whistle. “Fuck.”

When he looked back at the other screen, he saw William’s eyes had filled with tears. Which only made him cackle again.

That’s right mate, Xander thought. Took my sweet time with your precious wife. Really savoured it. Was definitely worth the wait.

Xander couldn’t resist looking back at the screen showing the laptop. Watched himself gently lay Buffy down on the bed.

Damn, I'm good, he thought.

When he quickly looked back to get William’s reaction, his gutted expression sent an absolutely delicious thrill through Xander.

“That’s right, Will,” Xander urged. In a soft, soothing tone. “Keep watching, mate. It’s about to get real good, real fast. You don’t wanna miss a thing. Trust me.”

When Xander glanced at the other screen, he saw himself leaning over Buffy.

“And here we go,” Xander declared.

Ripping off his tie and tossing it aside, he picked up the champagne bottle he’d kept on ice nearby for just this occasion.

Eyeballing William now, Xander placed his thumb over the top of the champagne cork.

“Feel free to take notes, mate,” he snickered. “Pick up a few pointers on how to please the missus. Maybe bring a little spark back into your marriage.”

When William flung the laptop away, Xander’s chortling died in his throat. His eyes narrowed.

There goes my fucking weekend, Xander thought. Irritably. Just when I was having so much fun. Son of a bitch.

He slammed the champagne bottle back down on the ice bucket, then picked up his cellphone. Dialling the behavioural therapist he’d recently put on his payroll.

“Yeah? Li?”

“Hey Xander. What’s up? It’s late,” Lilah said.

She sounded irritated, Xander thought. Fucking bitch.

“Yeah. Remember that thing I told you about.”

“Yeah? she asked. Warily.

Jesus, Lilah thought. What have I gotten myself into?

“How did it go?” she asked. Because he expected her to.

Far too reluctantly for Xander’s taste considering the outrageous sums he was paying her.

“Not as well as I’d hoped, but…you know how these things go,” he shrugged.

“I really don’t actually,” she said. Stiffly.

“So, he watched a little bit of it,” Xander added. Ignoring her.

“Yeah?” Lilah asked. Sounding even more irritable that he hadn’t taken the hint.

“That’s a good sign, right?”

Lilah hesitated.

“Maybe he’s just… morbidly curious,” Lilah said.

“Maybe,” Xander said. “Or maybe he’s just dying to get a good look at me and Buffy. Getting it on.”

A few moments of awkward silence followed.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Xan,” Lilah said finally.

“Well, you’ve seen their files,” Xander said.

“I have,” Lilah said. “And?”

“And I’m just looking for some brass tax here,” Xander said. Unable to contain his irritation.

“I don’t know, Xan. I don’t know him. Or her. I can’t make a diagnosis otherwise. To me, they seem like an average, nice couple.”

“You know I could pay you to…” he began.

“And I don’t want to get to know them either. For legal and ethical reasons,” she added. Hastily.

A moment passed. He heard her sigh.

“What I do know is that this isn’t healthy behaviour,” Lilah said.

“Don’t start with this shit again,” he snapped.

“I’m not judging you,” Lilah said. Delicately. Hoping she hadn’t offended the billionaire. “I’m just saying that this…whatever this is….”

“Won’t fix the hole inside you,” she finished. Sounding exasperated. “You know that right?”

Xander said nothing. Neither did Lilah.

“Why are you so focused on this couple?” she asked. “Why them?”

“Because…” Xander began.

For a moment, Lilah thought she’d made a breakthrough. Finally.

“Because they said no,” Xander said. Sounding angry now. “Because all this… began with them.”

Now, he paused and took a breath.

“And because I want to,” he added. Coldly. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

He was like a spoiled child whose toy had been snatched away, Lilah thought. Shaking her head.

Time for some tough love, she thought.

“It’ll never be enough. No matter what you do to them,” Lilah said. “No matter how much you hurt them. You know that right?”

“We’ll see,” Xander said. Dismissively.

“Any news from Willow?” she asked. Eager to change the subject from the present one.

“Still on permanent vacation,” Xander said. “She said she’ll consider coming back if I ‘kicked the habit’. Can you believe that shit?”

“Okay,” Lilah said. Finally. “Call me when you need to talk again.”

“Hey, I have an idea,” Xander said.

“Yeah?” Lilah asked. Warily.

“Why don’t you and your husband come around fo…”

When Lilah hung up the phone, Xander chuckled. He just couldn’t help himself sometimes.

Removing his Bluetooth earpiece and tossing it on his couch, he swiped the champagne bottle and glass from his desk and put his feet up.

He took a moment to survey the large screen – which now showed Buffy sleeping and William still watching her.

“The three of us are far from finished,” Xander declared. Pouring out a drink for himself. “I’ll see you both soon. Real soon.”

Ever since he’d received the USB in the mail weeks ago, William tried to push it out of his mind. Pretend it didn’t exist.

It had growing increasingly difficult. He found himself having difficulty even looking at Buffy. Their conversations had grown awkward. Stilted.

He’d fallen back on that old lawyerly excuse – being far too overworked.

Buffy had backed off and given him space, but she didn’t seem entirely convinced by his explanation.

Then, at nights, he lay awake. Staring at the ceiling. Or at her as she slept. For hours upon hours.

Wondering who she was. How much he knew her. Or if he knew her at all.

Was she the woman he loved most in the world? Or the temptress who’d seduced Xander as payback for his betrayal? Or both? William didn’t know anymore.

Nor could he get what he’d seen out of his mind. Throughout his long, weary days, the images of Buffy and Xander would randomly flash before his eyes.

During his morning coffee – Buffy on the bed. In the raincoat. Waiting for Xander.

When he was in the shower – Buffy and Xander. Kissing.
Driving to work – Xander lifting Buffy up and into the
air.

Waiting at the watercooler – Buffy wrapping her legs around Xander’s waist. High heels dangling at the edge of her feet.

When he was at his desk with case papers strewn across his table – Xander carrying Buffy across the bed.

Going over the cases in his boss’ office – Buffy running her hands all over Xander’s muscled shoulders and back.

Even when he was in court – Xander laying Buffy down on the bed.

Sometimes, he’d stop and stare into space. Other times he’d trail off mid-sentence.

Everyone knew he was off. That something was wrong. His bosses. His colleagues. The judges. Hell, even opposing counsel seemed to cast a sympathetic glance in his direction.

Finally, his boss called him into the office.

“You need a vacation boy,” Rupert said. In his lilting, southern tone. “I’m sending you home. Come back when you’ve cleared your head.”

William wanted to protest. But he knew Giles was right. He knew he was of no use to anyone right now – least of all his clients who deserved the best defence he could provide. He just nodded at Giles and left.

William had spent the next few day locked in his study. Feigning illness. Buffy had attempted to play nursemaid but William was having none of it. He’d told him he was worried she’d catch it too. Whatever he pretended to have.

He’d confined himself to his couch and kept his eyes on the little TV in the corner. Never did he dare even look in the direction of his office desk.

Then, one day, Buffy said she was going out. Client meetings all day. After she left, William waited another hour. To make sure she was gone.

Then, he finally did it. Unlocked his desk and retrieved the USB from his desk. For a while, he just stared at it.

I have to know, he thought. I need to…

Finally, William inserted it into his new office laptop.

Then, taking a deep breath, William double-clicked on the video labelled For Your Eyes Only.

The video immediately resumed from where it had left off.

Buffy laid out on the bed. Xander leaning over her.

The billionaire was staring at his wife. Like a predator eyeing his prey. Like he wanted to devour her whole.

William could see it in Buffy’s eyes. On her face. As plain as day.

Buffy wanted Xander. A man she professed to loathing – forcefully and frequently. Wanted him bad.

It left William reeling. Before he could blink, Xander had dipped down and taken Buffy’s lips. In a torrid, tempestuous kiss.


“‘Mmmmm,” Buffy murmured. Approvingly. Her hands caressing his shoulders and back.

The sight of it was a body blow to William. He found himself jolted out of his chair and on the other side of the room. Shell-shocked at what he’d seen.

What am I doing? he wondered. Again. Running his hands through his hair.

William found himself pressing his face against the door. Screwing his eyes shut. But he could still see it. Buffy and Xander. Kissing passionately.

Worse, he could still hear them.

Buffy ‘mmming’. Xander growling.

Moments later, he heard the sounds of their bodies shifting.

Buffy’s breathing became even heavier. As did Xander’s.

I have to know, William thought. I need to…

A few more moments passed.

“Oh,” Buffy whispered.

That was followed by the sounds of more kissing. And bodies further shifting.

Soon, his wife’s breathing quickened. As did the billionaire’s.

Finally, a faint sound. So imperceptible William had to strain to hear it.

“Uhhhh,” Buffy whispered. “Hunnnnh.”

A few moments later, the faint sound grew a little louder. A little bolder.

Thump, thump, thump.

Suddenly, he heard Buffy exhale.

“Oh!” she breathed out.

William knew that breath. Intimately. And what it meant.

That Xander and Buffy were making love.

“Yeah,” Xander rasped. As if to confirm that fact. “Fuck.”

It was enough to make bitter bile rise up in the back of William’s throat.

Thump, thump, thump.

“Mmmmmmm,” Buffy sighed.

William had thought it would be better. To know. Once and for all.

But knowing was worse. Far worse.

No, no, no, no, William thought. Finding himself slamming his head against the door of his study. Again and again and again. Not love. Just sex. Just…

Thump, thump, thump.

Suddenly, his wife gasped.

“Oh!” Buffy moaned. Loudly. “Oh my god!”

Now, Xander growled.

That was when it finally sunk in for William. What he’d done. What he was doing. This very moment. Listening to Buffy. His wife. The love of his life. Getting fucked. By Xander.

Oh Christ, William thought. His eyes opening and growing wide. What am I doing? What the fuck am I…

William spun around. Practically leaped across the room. Intent on ending this madness that had gripped him once and for all.

Only to be left frozen in his tracks by what he heard next.

His name. On her lips. In bliss.

“Oh Xander!” Buffy groaned. “Oh fuck!”

Thump, thump, thump.

Then her name was on his lips.

“Buff,” Xander rumbled. “Yeah!”

Thump, thump, thump.

Not love, William told himself. His eyes filling with tears. Not what we have. Just sex. Just…

“Oh god!” Buffy moaned.“Oh fuck! Ooooh!”

Suddenly, an image flashed before William’s eyes. Unwanted. Unbidden.

Xander sitting cross-legged on the bed. Buffy straddling him. They were in the Lotus position – a perennial favourite of Buffy for its incredibly intimate nature.
Their naked bodies glistening with sweat. Their foreheads resting against one another. She was still wearing her high heels.

Try as he might, William couldn’t stop seeing it. Seeing them. Intimately entangled. Intertwined. It brought him to his knees.

Buffy, William thought. Wretchedly. Head bowed and in his hands. Tears now streaming down his cheeks. My Buffy. My wife. My love. My…

Then, the images began moving. Their bodies were now rocking against each other. Forward and back. Back and forth. Slowly. Like the waves crashing against shore rock.

“Oh god!” Buffy was moaning. Blissfully. Raising her face to the heavens. Her golden hair falling down to her shoulders.

“Yeah baby,” Xander said. Lasciviously. “You close? Huh?”

“So close,” Buffy whined. “So. Fucking…uhhhhhh.”

Just sex, William told himself. Not love. Not what we…


William found himself curling up into a ball. Trying to block out the pain. By now, a veil of darkness had begun enveloping him. Finally blocking out the images.

“I’m gonna,” Buffy gasped. “Oh! I’mmmaaa….Hunnnnnnnnh.”

“Cum,” Xander growled. His voice harsh and demanding. “Cum for me baby.”

“Oh,” Buffy gasped. A moment later, she let out an ear-splitting, sky-piercing cry of pleasure. “Aaaaaaiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee!”

William heard his wife’s voice hit an impossibly high pitch. Then shatter into a million pieces. Then, moments later, the billionaire let out an primal roar.

Afterwards, only the sounds of heavy sighs, heated breaths and bodies shifting heavily. Until he finally spoke.

“Yeah,” Xander said. Letting out a loud exhale. “Fuck. That was hot shit.”

Buffy was panting heavily. As if she’d just finished a sprint. Finally, she let out a deep, languid sigh.

“Holy shit,” she said. Finally. Taking a fresh gulp of air.

The astonishment in his wife’s voice was a dagger through William’s heart.

“I tried to tell you,” Xander crowed.

William just knew the billionaire was wearing a smug smile and a shit-eating grin at that moment.

“Shut up,” Buffy huffed. Then took another deep swallow of air. “Mmmmmm.”

Now, Xander chuckled.

“Could go again if you like,” he offered.

“Again?” Buffy asked. Incredulously.

“Yeah,” Xander said. Casually.

Buffy paused now. William could practically see the hesitation on her face. Her worrying at her lip with her teeth.

“Tell you what,” Xander said. “Why don’t we…..”

William heard the sound of a heavy body moving over the mattress.

“Leave it to my lucky Silver dollar,” Xander announced.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Buffy said.

“Tails we go again,” Xander said. “Heads we call it an early night. Deal?”

“Like, seriously?” Buffy asked.

“Ladies’ choice,” Xander said.

A few moments passed.

“Deal,” Buffy said. Finally.

William heard the clink of a coin being tossed and then caught.

“Heads,” Xander announced. Grimly.

A few moments passed. No one said a word.

“Screw that,” Buffy blurted out. Suddenly. “Let’s do it again.”

Now, Xander chuckled.

“Yeah?” he asked. Cockily.

“Yeah,” Buffy said. Breathlessly. “I wanna do it again.”

“C’mere then,” Xander said. Sounding elated.

Yet again, William heard the sound of bodies shifting over the mattress.

“Nuh uh,” Buffy said. Playfully.

“Oh come on,” Xander said.

“Did you really think it would be that easy?” Buffy asked. Haughtily.

“C’mere,” Xander said. Roughly.

Now, Buffy giggled.

“You’re gonna have to chase me,” his wife said. Playfully.

A moment later, Buffy let out a mock shriek. Then a wicked little laugh.

When Xander growled and Buffy sighed, William knew his wife and the billionaire were in each other’s arms again.

The last thing William heard before the darkness claimed him was her voice. As if she’d spoken it into his ear. He could almost feel her warm breath on his face.

“Oh,” Buffy gasped. “Oh my sweet lord.”

Then, only the darkness.

When William eyes opened again, he found himself staring up at a ceiling.

Where am I? he wondered. What was I…

It took him a moment to remember. When he did, William bolted upright. Only to find her in his chair.

Buffy was staring at his open laptop. A stunned look on her pale face.

“Buffy,” he said. Licking his dry lips. “I…. it’s not… I can explain. Luv.”

Finally, she looked at him. Her eyes were soft as she surveyed him. Then, they narrowed.

“What in the actual fuck, Will?” Buffy asked. Her voice straining. Her expression bewildered.

“I…” William began. Not knowing what to say. Where to begin. “Luv….”

“What… what the fuck is this?” Buffy asked. Her eyes disbelieving as she took in the screen.

“I mean… why the fuck do you have …” Buffy began. Shaking her head and looking horrified now. “I mean, how did you even…”

William winced. He tried to speak but he found his tongue tied.

For a moment, Buffy simply didn’t know what to say.

“What the fuck, Will?” she finally shrieked. Her voice reaching at least two octaves higher.

“Luv…” he began. Trying to soothe her. Licking his dry lips. “Look, I can… I can explain… just...”

“Did you watch this?” Buffy asked. Suddenly, she was staring at him. Her expression was forbidding.

“I…” William began.

“Did. You. Watch. It?” Buffy asked. Her voice was deadly now. Her eyes were blazing.

“Not…” William began. Catching himself in what he knew was a lie. “Only a little bit.”

That left Buffy open mouthed. And gaping at him.

“Why?” Buffy asked. Incredulously.

Her eyes were watery now. Her lip was quivering. Chin trembling.

“How could you do that to me, Will? Why would you do that to yourself? To us? Why?” she asked. She looked crestfallen. Heartbroken.

“I just…” William began. Finding himself unable to explain it to her. Why he just had to know. Why he needed to know. He could barely explain it to himself.

“We were happy Will,” Buffy said. Softly. A tear trickling down her face. “I was happy. And all you had to do was let it go.”

Buffy shut her eyes and took a deep, unsteady breath.

“But you couldn’t,” she said. When her eyes opened again they were hard. Her voice was severe. “Could you?”

William found himself with no answer.

“No, not with your pride and your ego,” Buffy added. Bitterly. Angrily swiping the tears away from her eyes with her hands.

“No, you just had to know,” she scoffed. Shaking her head.

William looked away. Unable to bear the pain he’d caused Buffy. Again.

“Well, congratulations Will,” Buffy said. Sounding utterly exhausted. “Now, you finally know that Xander was better than you than in bed.”

William flinched now. Like she’d stuck him in the face.

“Like, way better,” Buffy added. Cruelly. “I mean, it’s not even close, really.”

“Luv,” William said. Turning his face away from her. “Don’t. Please.”

Buffy found her anger flaring up.

“I mean, I could go into detail if you’d like. About how we did it. Where we did it. And how often.”

“Stop,” William said. Shutting his eyes. “Please.”

“It’s what you want right? To know all the sordid, seedy details?” Buffy sneered.

“Or maybe you’d prefer to see it for yourself,” she added. With disgust.

William found himself staring at the floor. His eyes filled with tears.

“You know what,” Buffy said. Rising from the chair, she dusted herself off. “I can’t. Not right now. I have to go.”

“Luv,” he said. When she attempted to brush past him, he touched her elbow. Trying to keep her from leaving.

“Don’t touch me!” Buffy shrieked. Then gulped back a sob. “Don’t you fucking….”

William backed off immediately. Letting Buffy flee. He sat there for a while. Staring into empty space.

What the fuck did I do? William wondered. Dazed.

Meanwhile, watching the developments on his Ipad from his suite on his luxury yacht The Sexy Bitch in the Bahamas,
Xander found himself enjoying a hearty cackle.

Being a billionaire is so much fun, Xander thought. Shaking his head. If only people knew. They’d burn us at the stake.

He’d been sunning himself on deck with a few supermodels when he’d gotten a message from his tech team.

Xander wasn’t about to miss this. Not for all the models in Milan. So he excused himself – to their surprise and chagrin – and immediately gone downstairs to his luxury suite.

One of his many attendants had been waiting with the Ipad and Bluetooth earphones in hand. With orders that he not to be disturbed.

Xander had been eagerly awaiting this moment. He’d ordered his tech team to watch William 24x7 and instructions to call, night or day, when William finally dared watch.

Curiousity is a strange and wicked beast, Xander thought. Reflecting on everything he’d witnessed gleefully over the past few hours.

“Paul,” he called.

The door opened.

“Yes sir?” the attendant said.

“Tell Irina I’d like to see her,” Xander said.

“Just Irina sir?” the attendant asked. Pointedly.

“For now,” Xander said. Smirking.

Bounding off the bed and to his bar, Xander quickly prepared her flavour of the month drink – the Kir Royale.

When Xander heard his suite door open, he swung around,
her drink in hand.

“Irina,” he said. Eyeing her with pleasure. “Babydoll.”

The blonde supermodel had swapped the hot pink bikini she’d worn on deck for a black and red lingerie. She was wearing her golden locks down. Just the way he liked it.

“Yes dahling?” Irina asked. Exaggerating her wispy Russian accent beyond recognition. Giving him bedroom eyes as she struck a seductive pose in the doorway of his suite.
“Something you need from me?

“Oh you bet,” Xander said. Grinning. He paused.

“Wanna get engaged?”

Tara knew she hadn’t spoken for at least a few minutes. She’d just sat there. Trying to take in everything she’d heard. Keeping her demeanor calm. Professional. Buffy had done all the talking. While William had just sat there. Silently. Wincing from time to time. Looking away. Until Buffy finally lapsed into silence.

“I’m glad you two decided to come here,” Tara said. Finally. Trying to salvage some positive from the clusterfuck she’d heard. “It shows me that you both still care. About trying to make this marriage work.”

“At least one of us does,” Buffy sniped. Folding her arms across herself.

William sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know what I did… it was wrong.”

“Wrong?” Buffy asked. Incredulously. “Wrong doesn’t even begin to cover it, Will. You had no right.”

“I know,” William said. Sounding exhausted.

“Do you?” Buffy asked. “I feel violated Will. Do you know how that feels? To feel violated?”

“No,” William said. Heavily. “I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up. I did.”

“I can’t believe you would do that to me,” Buffy said. Her lip quivered. “To us.”

“I….” William began. Then lapsed into silence.

“I was wrong,” William exhaled. Deeply.

“But you weren’t honest with me either.”

“I wasn’t honest with you?” Buffy asked. Disbelievingly. “How?”

“I asked you what happened,” William said.

“And I told you…” Buffy began. Her voice rose an octave.

“It was just sex,” William snorted. Derisively. “Yeah. Try another one, luv.”

“It was!” Buffy protested. “It was just sex. Good sex. But just sex, Will. Nothing more.”

William said nothing. His lips turned pencil thin. Tara could see the disbelief written across his face.

“I just can’t understand why you’d ever watch that video,” Buffy said. “Explain it to me, Will.”

William hesitated. Then removed something from his pocket. And handed it to Buffy. It was a scrap of paper. Put back together after it had been torn to pieces. Buffy recognized the writing. It was hers.

I have to go Will. Just for a little while. And then we’ll be free. For the rest of our lives. You’ll always have my heart and soul. I love you. Nothing will ever change that. B

“It’s the letter I wrote,” Buffy explained to Tara. Haltingly. “Last year. Before I…. went away. With Xander.”

“What did you feel when you found the letter?” Tara asked William.

“Hurt,” William said. He paused a moment. “Abandoned.”

“Abandoned,” Tara said. Softly. She paused. As if to let the word sink in. “Tell Buffy what you’re afraid of, Will.”

“Losing you,” William said. Softly.

“Losing me?” Buffy asked. Looking flummoxed.

“I was afraid you’d leave me,” William added. “That one day, you’d wake up and realise… I’m not good enough. Smart enough. Rich enough. Not nearly enough. Not worthy of you.”

Buffy just exhaled.

“I love you, Will. I wanna be with you. Hell, I married you twice!” she said. Shaking her head. Emphatically. “What more do I need to do?”

“Be honest with me,” William said.

“I was,” Buffy said. Defensively.

She turned to Tara for assistance.

“Were you?” Tara asked. Pointedly.

“Excuse me?” Buffy asked.

“William clearly doesn’t think so,” Tara said.

“I….” Buffy said. Gaping at Tara. “Why am I being attacked? I’m not the one who…”

“No one is attacking you,” Tara said. Gently. “I just want you to talk to each other. Really talk.”

“What do you want from me, Will?” Buffy asked. In exasperation. “Tell me.”

William hesitated.

“The truth,” he said. “About him. About what happened.”

Buffy pursed her lips now. Then sighed heavily.

“I told you it was just sex,” Buffy said. “Good sex. But just sex.”

A moment passed. Now, Buffy sighed heavily.

“Really good sex,” she admitted. “Okay?”

William flinched.

“Is that really what you think I care about?” Buffy asked. “Who has the bigger bank account? Who has the faster car? Who is better in bed? Do you think I’m over here keeping score?”

“No,” William said. “It just…it just hurts that he…”

That Xander had held Buffy in his arms. His Buffy. That he’d made love to her. Undoubtedly more than just once. The knowledge had been tearing William up inside.

“And you…” William finished.

Worse had been the nagging suspicion that she – his wife, his soulmate, the woman he loved – had found the experience pleasurable.

“Is that what this is about?” Buffy asked. Acerbically. “That I enjoyed myself?”

William bit his lip. Looking guilty.

“Well, god forbid a woman do anything other than just lay there,” Buffy snapped. “Someone alert the Church elders.”

“You looked like you were doing a lot more than just laying there,” William retorted. “Seemed like the two of you were having a right old time.”

“You had no right!” Buffy said. Vehemently. “None. Not after what you did.”

“I know,” William said. “You’re right. I just…”

“I should never have suggested going through with it in the first place,” Buffy said. “I know that. It was a mistake. I own that.”

“Thank you,” William said. Softly.

“But you have to let it go, Will,” Buffy entreated. “What happened between me and Xander… it happened. I can’t change that.”

“No more than you can change what happened between you and Faith,” she added. “We’ve both made mistakes. Hurt each other.”

“I know,” William said. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? To let it go? Not to think about it?”

“Try harder,” Buffy said. Heatedly.

They both lapsed into silence.

“This is good,” Tara said. “You’re talking to each other. Not at each other. Accepting responsibility for your actions.”

William shot her a skeptical look.

“There’s only one way to fix this,” Tara said. “For you two to connect… intimately.

William shifted uncomfortably.

“We haven’t,” he said.

“Not since…” she began.

“Intimacy,” Tara said. Tenderly. “Not sex.”

“Oh,” Buffy said.

“It’s okay,” Tara said. Smiling now. “People often seem to conflate the two.”

“What’s the difference?” William asked.

“Sex is physical,” Tara said. Pointedly. “Purely physical. A release in its primitive, least evolved form. The purely animal part of being human. Animalistic even. At least it can be.”

“That’s exactly what it was,” Buffy said. With emphasis. Waving her hands to make a point. “Purely physical.”

William knew his wife’s words had meant to soothe him. But her echoing Tara’s use of ‘purely physical’ hadn’t offered him a jot of comfort. And then there were the words Buffy had conspicuously ignored – ‘primitive’ and ‘animalistic’.

The likelihood that Buffy and Xander had engaged in such wild, wanton acts – uninhibited by his wife’s customary need to establish any real connection – left William feeling ill. He shut his eyes and rubbed his temples. Trying to clear his mind of such dark thoughts.

“Intimacy is deeper,” Tara added. Helpfully “It’s emotional. Even spiritual.”

Sounds like a gob of shite, William thought. Though he wisely kept that opinion to himself.

“I have to ask,” Tara said. Delicately. “How are you handling the situation with him? Legally, I mean?”

“We looked into getting a restraining order,” William said. Shifting uncomfortably. “Maybe filing a case.”

“But at this point,” Buffy sighed. “We don’t want…”

Anyone to know, Tara thought. Of course.

“Have either of you heard anything?” Tara asked. “A call? A message? Anything?”

William shook his head. As did Buffy.

“Toxic people like this thrive on conflict,” Tara said. Considering her words carefully. “Suck you into their world. On their terms.”

“Maybe the best reaction is no reaction at all,” Buffy said. To William’s ears, she sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “If we just ignore him maybe he’ll just get bored. Give up and go away.”

“Maybe,” William said. Though he sounded doubtful.

“But if he reaches out to either of you,” Tara said. Emphatically. “You need to talk to each other about it. Immediately. And be completely honest.”

They both nodded.

“May I make a suggestion?” Tara asked.

“Yeah?” William asked.

“I think you both should burn the letter and the USB,” Tara said. “Together.”

“Like here?” Buffy asked. “Now?”

“Think of it as a symbol,” Tara said. “Of letting go.”

Tara rose from her chair, then picked up the waste paper basket from the corner of the room and placed it in front of them. Then handed Buffy a lighter. And sat back and waited.

Buffy took in a little breath. Looked at her husband. Then, holding the letter aloft, set it ablaze.

She watched it burn for a bit, then dumped it in the waste paper basket in front of her.

“Will,” Buffy said. She reached out to offer him the lighter. He took it. Then retrieved the USB from his pocket. He held them both up. Then stared at the USB.

“Burn it Will,” Buffy said. Softly. “Let it go. For us.”

William looked at his wife for a long time. Then placed the lighter under the USB and lit it. They watched as it began to crackle and finally burn. Then William dumped it in the waste paper basket as well.

When William looked at Buffy, he saw tears running down her face.

“I love you,” Buffy said.

“I love you too,” William said.

“I’m sorry that I ever….” she began.

“Me too,” he said.

“Now comes the difficult part,” Tara said. Gravely. “I want you to go home and connect with each other. Like your marriage depends on it. Because it does.”

William and Buffy looked at each other. Feeling, for the first time in a long time, that they had a real chance to move past it.

“I’d like to say something,” William said.

Buffy looked up from her dinner plate.

Ever since they’d gotten home from Tara’s office, there had been a comfortable silence between them. They’d cleaned up, done the laundry, and cooked dinner. Not a word had been said, but there had been no hostility. No animosity.

“I’m not sure I wanna hear it,” Buffy said. Offering him a little smile to make him understand she was only joking.

But her husband’s expression remained solemn.

“You were right,” William said. “What happened between you and him…”

“Will,” Buffy said. She dropped her fork into the plate and put her hands over her eyes. “I can’t…”

“It happened,” William added. “Just like me and Faith. Neither of us can change that.”

“I chose you,” Buffy said. Quietly. “Not him. You. I love you.”

“I know,” William said. Softly. “I love you too.”

Again, they both lapsed into silence.

William reached across the table and took Buffy’s hand. Buffy found herself momentarily startled. It was the first time they’d touched in weeks.

“Whatever happened….,” William said. Caressing her hand with his fingers. “Is in the past. It’s done. No more about it. Ever again. I promise.”

“Just you and me?” Buffy asked. Her eyes growing wide and hopeful.

“Just you and me,” William vowed.

Six months later….

“Do you mind grabbing me another drink, honey?” Buffy said. Her tone exceedingly sweet.

William groaned. But wisely kept it on the inside.

They’d both been lazing by the pool of their hotel all morning. Working on their tan.

Their therapist had finally convinced them to use some of the money on a long-deserved vacation. So they had.

Beautiful Ibiza. A place both of them had always wanted to visit.

William turned to the right. The sight of her took his breath away. Buffy’s gorgeous face was raised upwards. Her eyes were shut. Long, blonde hair falling down the right side of her face.

Basking in the warmth of the sunlight, his wife was positively glowing in that moment. Radiant even. Not to mention devastatingly gorgeous in her tiny, black bikini.

“Another cosmo, yeah?” William asked. Sitting up. Surreptitiously adjusting his tiny black shorts and standing.

“You betcha,” Buffy said. Flashing him a goofy smile.

“Sure thing luv,” William said.

He paused, then bent over her, and stole a little kiss from her lips.

Now, Buffy giggled.

When William attempted to do it again, she placed a hand on his chest.

“Drink now,” she said. Firmly. “Kiss me later.”

When William sighed heavily and turned, Buffy gave his bottom a playful slap.

“Oi,” William protested.

“I’m gonna get you for that Summers,” he warned. Furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Buffy said. Flirtatiously.

She dropped her eyes to his tiny black shorts and bit her lip. Then, looking back up at him, fluttered her long eyelashes. William knew his wife’s bedroom eyes when he saw them. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to get that damn drink and get back to their hotel room. And the little minx knew it as well.

William beat a quick retreat to the beachside bar. The barkeep, who was of course shirtless and with a gleaming six pack, was in deep conversation with a female customer.

“Oi mate,” he said. Raising his hand.

The barkeep raised a finger. Indicating he would be with William shortly. Then resumed his conversation.

“Bloody hell,” William muttered. “Come off it, mate. Yer killing me, here.”

“Scuse me,” he heard a loud voice ring out. William looked over to the right.

A blonde in a hot pink bikini and high heels was leaning against the bar.

“Hello?” she said. Noisily thumping the bar counter. Trying to catch the barkeep’s attention.

Christ, William thought. The first thing he noticed was her incredibly sharp cheekbones and piercing green eyes. Her blonde mane was flowing and gorgeous. Her breasts firm and high. Hips slim and slender. Her legs were long as the day.

Only when she turned to him in outrage, did William realise he’d been gawking at her.

Now, she scoffed.

“So rude!” she said. Folding her arms across herself.

“I….” William began.

It took him a second. And then he realised she was referring to the barkeep.

“Yeah,” William said. Looking away. “Some people, yeah. Just plain old rude, yeah. No helping em, I guess.”

“I’m Irina,” she said. The slightest trace of an accent behind her highly-clipped voice. “And you are?”

“William,” he said.

“Oh, British is it?” Irina said. Appraisingly. “Sun never sets on British Empire, yes dahling?”

Now, William chuckled.

“Guilty as charged,” he said. “Lemme guess…. Russian?”

“Guilty,” Irina said. Offering him a little smile.

Suddenly, William realised he’d been keeping Buffy waiting. He looked back. To see his wife sunning herself.

“Oi mate,” he called at the barkeep. “We’re waiting here.”

Again, the barkeep raised his finger. To indicate he’d be with them in a moment.

“This is ridiculous,” Irina said.

“Tell me about it,” William said. Glancing back again in Buffy’s direction.

“Girlfriend or wife?” Irina asked.

“Wife,” he said. “And you?”

“Fiancée,” she said. Now, she pouted. “Oh, I’d kill for a Kir Royale.”

Finally, the barkeep appeared.

“Ladies first,” William said. Gallantly.

Irina shot him a grateful look, then placed her order.

“And you, sir?” the barkeep asked.

“A local beer and a cosmo mate,” he said. “Room 243.”

The barkeep shot him a thumbs-up, then set to work behind the counter.

Now, they turned to each other again.

“Is it hard?” Irina asked. Playfully.

William nearly choked on his tongue.

“Sorry?” he asked.

“Being married,” Irina said. “Is it hard?”

Of course, William thought. Idiot. What did you think she was asking?

He considered it.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “But it’s worth it.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said. Then giggled.

“You nervous, yeah?” he asked.

“You can tell?” she asked. Innocently.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Should I be?” she asked. Seriously.

He considered it.

“Yeah,” he said.

Now, they both laughed.

“Your orders,” the barkeep said. Tapping the counter.

“Well,” Irina said. Lifting the glass and offering him a flirtatious smile. “I guess I’ll see you around…William.”

William nodded. Then carefully picked up Buffy’s cosmo and his own beer.

Well, he thought. Doing his best not to look over his shoulder. That certainly happened.

When William began walking back, he saw Buffy wasn’t in her seat. He looked around.

And saw Buffy by the poolside cabana. Talking to someone. A moment later, he realised whom Buffy was talking to.

It was him. Xander Harris III.

He couldn’t see the expression on his wife’s face. But her body was rigid. Her back was straight.

William doubled his stride.

The billionaire, meanwhile, was wearing a little smirk. His eyes were behind expensive sunglasses.

“You look real good, Buff,” he saw him mouth.

Immediately, Buffy grabbed a towel and covered herself up.

Now, Xander laughed.

“Relax,” he said. “There’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

By now, he was almost at Buffy’s shoulder.

“Back off Harris,” he barked. “Or I swear to god mate…”

Now, Xander raised his hands and took a step back.

“Hey man,” he said. “Look, I was just….”

“Waiting for me,” Irina said. Chirpily. Now, she hopped into Xander’s arms. “Hello dahling.”

“Babydoll,” Xander said. Wrapping his arms around her.

“You…. you’re his fiancée?” William asked. Disbelievingly.

“You two know each other?” Buffy asked. Raising her eyebrows.

“We just met at the bar,” Irina said.

“Irina, this is Buffy,” Xander said. “And her husband William.”

“Hello,” Irina said.

“Hi,” Buffy said.

“And how do you know each other?” Irina asked. Innocently.

“We’re… old friends,” Xander said. With a thin smile. “Isn’t that right, guys?”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed. William gave Xander a dark look. It was all he could do to keep himself from slugging the bloke in the face.

“Oh that’s wonderful,” Irina said. “Why don’t the four of us have dinner tonight?”

“We already have plans,” Buffy said. Quickly.

I’d rather die, she thought.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Xander said. “Are you sure?”

“Quite,” William said. Placing his hand on his wife’s back. “Shall we luv?”

“It was nice to meet you,” Buffy told Irina.

“Likewise,” Irina said.

Xander and Irina watched them go.

“Such a sweet couple,” Irina said.

“Aren’t they?” Xander replied. Agreeably. “Let’s go get a drink babe. I’m thirsty as hell.”

“Old friends, you said?” Irina asked. Locking her hands with his as they began making their way towards the poolside bar.

“So I said,” Xander replied.

“You slept with her, yes?” Irina asked. Pointedly.

“Yes,” Xander said. “Is that a problem for you?”

“Not for me,” Irina said. “But for him yes?”

“I suppose,” Xander said. He took a beat.

“So, did you flirt with him?” Xander asked.

“Yes,” Irina said.

“And?” Xander asked.

“And?” Irina asked. Pointedly.

“Did he flirt back?” Xander asked.

Irina hesitated. Now, Xander gave her a look.

“Yes,” she said.

“Good girl,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go get me that drink.”