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Title: When it Rains, it Pours
Willow wrinkled her nose delicately as Spike stepped around her, the smell of demon bile clinging to his clothes and skin making her nauseous. He had been closer to the demon than had Willow, and had suffered all the more from the creature's rather messy death due to that. Not that Willow had escaped much easier. Her usually vibrant red hair was coated with a think sheen of yellowish demon ick. "Take off your clothes in the kitchen, and ditch the clothing. You can borrow something of my dad's until you get home," Willow informed her scowling guest as she cautiously tip toed across the living room carpet, trying to keep the floor clean of the dripping mess covering her. She glanced at him over her shoulder, noting the pained look on Spike's face and felt a momentary twinge of sympathy. After all, he did possess keener senses than did she... Willow firmly dismissed that thought. He'd probably wallowed in worse during his bitey days -- and besides which, she was one of the good guys, human, and female -- wasn't that reason enough for an immediate trip to the shower ahead of him? 'Darn tooting!' Willow thought. 'He should just be glad that I didn't make him stay at Giles where there's _three_ people fighting for the bathroom!' Willow was already tugging her ruined blouse over her head as she started up the stairs, grimacing at the feel of it as it moved against her flesh. Normally, she would have shuddered into an embarrassed heap before disrobing in front of Spike, but the clothes really were disgusting, and she doubted that he was paying any attention to her naked back so long as his own clothing was rapidly hardening around his own frame.
'The bloody little chit is actually going to make me wait!' Spike thought indignantly as he heard the bathroom door slam shut. He heard the sound of water falling moments later and nearly groaned. Clean, clear, blessedly beautiful water. Spike nearly tore his clothes off, discarding them in a fresh garbage bag. That done, he found himself standing naked in the middle of Willow Rosenberg's kitchen, alone, furiously scratching at the drying demon goop that had slithered beneath the neck of his shirt when the creature had exploded. And the aforementioned young woman was equally naked and alone and goop covered. "What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn't offer to clean those hard to reach places for her?" Spike said softly, already padding his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Willow yelped when the bathroom door closed behind him. She cautiously peeked out from the shower curtain. Her eyes met his briefly, before skittering downwards. She caught herself before she reached her destination, her eyes guilty flying back upwards. "Spike?" she said, her eyes round. "Get out of here! I'm not done yet!" Willow's hand flicked in an embarrassed shooing motion. "Luv, I'm not about to wait another minute to get this stuff off of me. We're both adults, here. Not to mention, there's little to nothing about crusted demon guts that arouses me," he said, motioning to his arms and chest, both painted with the aforementioned substance. He watched the stubborn set of Willow's features and sighed. "We share, pet, or I'll toss you out of the shower myself, and you can wait until I'm done." "You're naked. _I'm_ naked. Two naked people in a shower are a no-no. Two naked people in the shower don't get clean, they--" she bit off her words. "Damned vampire," Willow muttered sourly as Spike turned pleading puppy dog eyes on her. Angel may have been a useless poof of a sire, but he had truly discovered a manipulative goldmine with that look. "But no looking," Willow said sternly. Spike grinned, already darting towards the shower and it's wonderful promise of cleanliness, 'and unclothed proximity to the witch,' his mind tacked on. "That hardly seems fair, pet. You certainly weren't opposed to getting an eyeful of yours truly when I came in," he said. "Shut up, you!" Willow snapped, her face flushing. Willow seemed to shrink in on herself slightly when Spike stepped under the spray of water with her. Before she resolutely turned her head away from him, her face informed him of exactly what was troubling her. Part of her wanted him to look at her and appreciate her, while the other feared that he'd look, and the furthest thing from his mind would be admiration for her body. Spike nearly told her not to worry -- he found her utterly delectable even fully clothed in one of her god awful outfits. But he'd been honest enough when he told her that demon guts were not appreciated while he was trying to seduce someone. But once they were clean... well, he hadn't said anything about that, had he? ~end~
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