Like a woman crazed, she stopped at the mouth of the hallway, eying Spike's bedroom door and thinking about what she was about to do. 'Just... do it. You know he wants you, he has said so before. All his sexual innuendos and the way he looks at you. Just go in there, and give him what he wants and take what you want. Easy...'
She nodded her head in determination and walked to his door, opening it without bothering to knock.
He was sitting at his desk, his headphones were on and he was furiously scribbling something on a piece of paper, so he hadn't noticed her come in. Her curiosity got the better of her, so she silently crept towards him and peered over his shoulder, taking a look at what he was doing.
He was drawing. He was drawing a picture of her.
Blushing slightly at the fact that he could draw her (without having a picture to copy from, or even her sitting in front of him), she tapped him on his shoulder. “Hi,” she said, then blushed further. 'You came in here to jump his bones, and you say 'hi'?'
Spike jumped, gasped, then he stared up at her in shock. "Shit! You scared the bloody hell outta' me!" he hollered, then quickly flipped the piece of paper over with one hand as he clumsily took off his headphones with the other. “Uh, hi. What're you doing home so early?” he asked, his voice shaking with nervousness.
Buffy eyed the down turned piece of paper as she twisted her hands nervously in front of her. “I... uh... I got fired... and I want to... you know...” she stammered, searching for her words. “I wanted to see you...”
Spike's eyes widened, then he slowly got up out of his chair, taking a step toward her. “You wanted to see me for... what, pray tell?” he inquired, his cocky attitude back in place.
Buffy took a tentative step back, extremely nervous with the current situation. Her body was telling her to stay, to kiss him breathless and throw him down on the bed, but her mind was telling her to flee. “I... uh, don't really know, actually... I just...” Buffy's arms dropped to her sides and her shoulders slumped. “I'm sorry, I'm just going to do... take a shower, now.”
She headed for the door, hearing Spike follow her. He was going to stop her, get her to talk to him, but she was already halfway down the hall to her room.
He stood in the doorway to his room, hearing her bedroom door shut. “Well, that was weird...” Spike said, then walked back into his room, leaving the door open.
Buffy emerged from the shower and wrapped herself into her towel. 'You are an idiot! You just made a complete fool of yourself in front of him. He drew a picture of you, and you turn into a babbling fool,' she chided herself as she picked up her hair dryer and started to defog with window, pressing the little blue button so it would blow cool air at the mirror.
As the fog disappeared, her reflection came into view and she smirked. She knew she was pretty, but what Spike saw in her, she didn't know. He rode motorcycles while she drove an old VW Bug. He wore leather dusters, she wore pastel blouses. He was cocky and self confident, she was anything but. What did he see in her?
She started to work on drying her hair, all the while thinking about the man across the hall. Why didn't she just go and find out? She had a right to know why he liked her, right? She wanted to know what Spike thought was so sexy or appealing about her. And what was with the sexual comments and stealthy picture drawing? Why didn't he just tell her he liked her, dammit? She was going to go find out. Right now.
She stomped out of the bathroom and into his room, determined to find out why the hell Spike was so... him. With her towel secured under her armpits and her hair damp and clinging to her back, she stopped behind him with her hands on her hips. She didn't care about her state of undress, she only cared about how crazy her made her.
He was once again wearing his headphones, his hands clasped behind his head as his foot tapped along to whatever punk rock 'Sex Pistols' song he was listening to. She immediately snatched them off his head and threw them to the ground, resisting the urge to stomp on them like a child. “You jerk!”
“What?!” he exclaimed, thoroughly confused with her behavior since she’d come into his room earlier.
“You heard me! I called you a jerk. And you're a bonehead!”
“What're you talking about?”
“I'm talking about you! You, with your... your sexy smile and your innuendos!” she shouted, her face turning red with her frustration. “Why don't you just tell me that you like me? Why are you so... you?!”
“I don't... you think my smile is sexy?” he asked, his eyes twinkling at the thought that she could possibly think any part of him was sexy. She was so closed off from him, hardly letting him get closer to her than just her roommate, an acquaintance she lived with.
“Of course you would focus on that, huh? Mister 'I'm So Sexy, Ask Me How'!” she hollered then started to pace the ground in front of him. “And you know what? I haven't been able to get you out of my head for a week now! Ever since your 'wanna explore my body' comment. What if I want more than to just explore your body, ever thought about that?! My mom warned me about guys like you. All sex, no commitment.”
“Buffy...” Spike said and stood up to stop her frantic pacing. When Buffy kept going on about 'men and their raging libidos', Spike put his hands on her shoulders and stopped her. “Buffy!”
“What?!” she shouted, looking into his eyes. Bad move. She wanted to be mad at him, not get lost in his cerulean gaze.
Spike finally noticed that she was only dressed in a towel, tiny beads of water falling from her hair, sliding down her skin and getting soaked up into the towel. His cock stirred in his pants as pure lust shot through his body. The smell of her peach body soap wafted up to his nose, purely feminine and Buffy. He quickly became a man undone.
He pulled her against his body, wrapping his arms around her, then smashed his lips against hers in a passionate kiss. He felt her tense against him, then slowly relax and return the kiss with just as much fervor.