A/N: I had this idea for a long time before I actually sat down and started this story and I was glad that I was able to post it on the day I intended to post it (Leap Day 2016), which coincides with the episode "Look Before You Leap" on which this story is based. Thanks for reading and for any comments you care to leave. They mean a lot to me!

Niles didn't know how much more he could take. His male hormones were racing like a freight train with no signs of stopping. He'd tried (Dear God how he'd tried!) to quell his burning desire, but the more he tried the more intense those desires became. And now he was at the point of near-insanity.

His ethics had long since flown out the window, despite his brother's well-meaning attempts to bring him down to earth, as it were. But Niles had been deprived of sex for oh so long and now he could think of nothing else.

Now he stood, staring at his older brother who wore a look of complete disdain. But Niles didn't care. He'd made his decision. Maris had gone out of her way to clear her schedule for him and by damned he was going to take advantage of it. Thirty minutes should do the trick. It was all he needed, all he wanted, and frankly thirty minutes was all that she was willing to give him. But in that thirty minutes he was determined to show her pleasure like she'd never been shown before. At the thought his testosterone went crazy inside of him.

"I'm going to Maris!" He announced.

Frasier's anger flared, his face reddening with near-rage. "You will rue the day!" he shouted dramatically, like a Shakespearean actor giving a four star performance on a London stage. But his performance fell flat.

Niles stood his ground. There was no way in hell that he was going to let this perhaps-once in a lifetime opportunity pass him by. "I don't care!" he shouted, in the same Shakespearean manner. "Niles' gotta have it!" And without even bothering to wait for his brother's response, Niles stormed out of the condo, the force of his exit rattling the walls as he closed the door behind him.

He sat alone in his BMW in the Elliott Bay parking garage about to embark on his journey to Maris' mansion, the one that used to be his as well, the one where many memorable lovemaking escapades had commenced.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat, remembering. Oh how she'd made him feel on those cold, cold nights. The things she'd done to him, the things she'd said, the things that she'd ordered him to do to her, even things he had no idea how to do in the first place. It was no problem, for she was an excellent teacher, if not a strict one, yelling at him, scolding him if he made even one wrong move. He should have been offended, even hurt, but it was all a part of the lovemaking process and since their time was on a strict schedule; usually a limit of forty-seven minutes, it was well worth it.

But as his marriage slowly began to unravel, so did the opportunities for sex. They became less and less until they seemed non-existent. But now his mind traveled back to the beginning of their relationship, when their love was new and they were free to explore, learn and grow in their sexual conquests. Back then they were young (well, he was much younger and at that time glad to have such an experienced teacher-or so she'd claimed) and he wanted to learn all he could in order to make his wife happy. After all, wasn't that the job of a loving husband, to show his wife every sexual pleasure imaginable? His eyes still closed, he could easily remember every touch, every caress, every-

Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and he lowered the visor in his car and peered into the mirror. He looked like he had a low grade fever, which was appropriate. He was hot… very hot and he needed Maris badly. But he had to look presentable. He reached into his pocket and removed his handkerchief, using it to blot the sweat from his forehead. If only he had a glass of ice water. No, this heat was good for him. It built up energy inside of him that he could use to his advantage, once he was in Maris' bed. Oh God, his desire was growing even more now and he could barely contain himself. How in the hell was he supposed to drive in this condition? But it was the only way.

He was tired of paying people like manicurists, massage therapists, facialists… the list went on… and on.

Once again he wiped the dampness from his brow and stowed his handkerchief in his car's hidden trash receptacle. And then he slowly backed out of the parking garage. The car moved slowly onto the street. He'd be home soon.

Home…

Never had a word sounded so sweet, even if he no longer lived there. It would be home for tonight anyway.

But as he drove he was tormented by them. They were everywhere; images that reminded him of sex-of making love-of being completely fulfilled; of total and complete ecstasy. They taunted him. Billboards, signs in store windows, even innocent passersby. Just hours before, the sight of a woman wearing a dress that left little to the imagination would have completely appalled him. Why must women insist on dressing like they were working on the streets? Had they no shame? No decency to look presentable? On any other day, perhaps any other day than today, Leap Day, February 29th, he would have been disgusted by the sight. But today the images only served to make him want to make love to his wife (or more appropriately, his estranged wife) even more.

Suddenly his clothes felt too tight and he longed to be free of them. But as it were, he wasn't too far from home. And like a gift from heaven, the mansion came into view on the tree-lined street, causing him to look up, silently praising the gods above. He accelerated on the gas pedal just a bit and pulled up to the large cast-iron gates, entering the code he knew by heart. Luckily, Maris had been thoughtful (or forgetful) enough to not change the code, even if it was unintentional. He didn't even want to think of what he'd have done had he not been able to open the gate. He was never one to climb trees or scale mountains but there was a first time for everything. Scaling a cast-iron gate would have been nothing considering how desperate he was. And desperate men would do anything for sex… anything at all.

The huge metal gates scraped and creaked, and then slowly began to open. It was like entering the gates of heaven. But it wasn't nearly fast enough.

"Damn you!" he shouted, waving his fist in the air. "Damn you! Can't you hurry up? Can't you see that I'm desperate here?"

When the gates had finally opened just enough for his BMW to fit through, he barreled the car onto the driveway and came to a screeching halt. Without even bothering to lock the door, he grabbed his car keys, slammed the door shut and ran toward the house, ignoring the two black Dobermans who kept guard at the French doors, barking loudly at his arrival. He should have been hurt, as those dogs had been faithful companions during his life at the mansion (faithful only in the sense that they never tried to bite or harm him), but he'd been away from the mansion for so long that to them he was nothing more than an intruder, coming to harm their master.

A slow, sensual grin formed on his lips. Oh he was an intruder all right. And what an intrusion it would be.