Skinny Feet and Creepy Antlers
The shower was warm, blissfully so - hot even. The steam billowed through the bathroom, covering everything in a fine mist, her skin turned red from the heat. It was such a relief to get clean, to be able to scrub away the stinkiness of her days without showering. She had never realised she could be stinky - that happened to other people, gross people.
It was such a welcome relief to be in a place where the water wasn't brown and spurty - and cold. She lifted her face and let the warm trickle run down her skin, this felt so good - this was what showering used to feel like. It was gonna take a lot to get her to move out of Angel's place. Mr. Broody Pants didn't even realise he had it so good.
She hoped he was unpacking her stuff for her. He would be checking for any cockroaches - god knows how many had stowed away in her bag. They didn't want an infestation here. A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the skinny feet and creepy antlers - and she turned the heat up on the shower, so the water was practically scalding her now. This felt really good.
And sleeping in a bed would feel good too.
She'd eyed up Angel's bed a couple of times when she'd had reason to come down to the apartment during the working day. Not for that reason - gross! As if she would want Buffy cast offs. No - she eyed up the bed because it was big, with a deep and downy looking mattress and lots of pillows. So much better than the ratty old sofa bed with the springs sticking through the mattress that she was used to. She would sleep like a log tonight. Coming to Angel's was definitely the right idea.
She frowned. He hadn't been her first choice though. In her moment of panic she had thought immediately of Doyle and rung him up to beg him to let her come over. But he hadn't answered. Which was totally rude. Why offer your apartment as a place to stay if you didn't then answer the phone? It was like he wasn't serious about it. What a flake.
She snorted in disgust.
But then his cousin was in town after all - she'd spoken to him on the phone earlier, given him Doyle's address. Maybe they had gone out to celebrate. Doyle liked to do that. And when your cousin was over all the way from England - that was cause for a drink or two. Especially in Doyle's book - he'd celebrate the opening of a mailbox with a drink or two.
She wondered where they had gone, if Doyle had taken his relative to a place that he and Cordelia went to - or if they'd gone somewhere more disreputable. She had a feeling Doyle knew places that were a lot more seedy than anywhere he would ever take her. She just hoped he wouldn't be too much the worse for wear in the morning …
'Oh my god!' she said suddenly, out loud, realising something. Something awful. She was just standing here, under the shower, thinking about Doyle for minutes at a time when she was naked. That wasn't good or right or comfortable. Doyle and naked did not go together. Not ever.
She made a concerted effort to turn her mind back to the horror that was her apartment and all those cockroaches: scuttling up the t.v screen; crunching on the floor; their little legs wiggling in the air as they lay on their backs and didn't die fast enough. Skinny feet and creepy antlers, that was a safer subject to think about. Skinny feet and creepy antlers...
