The Vampire could smell the alcohol even before he entered the watchers house, so it was no surprise to find Giles slumped on the couch, glass in hand, glasses relegated to the coffee table, muted TV playing late night infomercials.
"What'd the slayer do this time then?" Spike asked.
"Piss off Spike," Giles replied succinctly.
"That bad eh," Spike grabbed the bottle from the coffee table and took a swig, he was wasting the good stuff on her tonight then.
Giles sighed. "What do you want Spike?"
"Nothing especial, was bored, thought I'd see if there was any evil brewing I could go beat up," Spike shrugged.
Giles snorted. "I'm sure Buffy and her Special Forces boyfriend are taking care of it."
"She's still shagging soldier boy then," Spike said. "Reckon she's only doing it cause he's got all the personality of a wet rag, no danger he'll really hurt her. Not like Angelus did."
Giles glared at him. "Don't speak about Buffy like that, she cares for Riley a great deal."
"More than she cares for you mate," Spike said knowingly. "You’re not even her watcher any more, she doesn't need you and it eats at you. You gave up everything for her and she won't even give you the time of day any more, not when she's got her pretty toy soldier to go to."
Giles leaped up, stumbling unsteadily, falling rather unflatteringly against Spike. He'd been intent on hitting the Vampire, but he couldn't work up the energy.
"Go away Spike," he said instead, rather pathetically.
Spike, who still had his hands on the watchers hips, holding steady, smirked "I don't think so watcher," he said, hands sliding around to grip Giles tighter, stroking down over the still reasonably firm flesh of his ass as he snaked his tongue out over slack lips and was admitted with minimum fuss.
"Why?" Giles asked softly.
"If you can't have what you want, want what you have," Spike said.
"You don't have me," Giles protested, weakly at best.
Spike didn't seem bothered as he kissed him again, sweeping his tongue through Giles mouth without regard as they clung together, the kisses becoming sloppier and more heated, Giles grinding himself against the vampire in a way he knew he'd hate himself for in the morning.
It was foolish, pathetic even, but knowing the woman they both loved, although in wildly different ways, was with someone else, that she no longer needed them, spurred them on-wards. Foolish or not it was something they both needed, wanted... to just loose themselves.
Tonight the needed it. Tomorrow, they could blame it on the scotch.