*****
Chapter 3: It's My House
*****
"Speaking of home," she said, glancing at her watch. "I'd better get there before the sun comes up. Jill will be mad at me if I don't feed her." Dawn frowned.
"Jill?"
"My cat," Andrea clarified as she stood.
"Wow, she has a cat." It was clear who Dawn's new role model was fast becoming.
"Andrea, where is your watcher?" asked Giles curiously.
"Probably Tahiti or something. He didn't really like being my watcher. 'She's an unruly part of society. She won't vote. I'm just upset because I'm not getting any,'" she imitated. Spike snorted with barely suppressed laughter.
"I see," Giles assured, cleaning his glasses again. Andrea sighed.
"Well, I guess I'll see you guys later." She paused, halfway to the door. "You guys don't go to church or anything, do you?" Buffy shook her head. "Okay. Goodnight." She opened the door.
"I'll walk you home, love," said Spike suddenly.
"Uh, okay."
"Spike just feels that he needs to assert his masculinity," said Buffy. "He feels bad because he's not the biggest, baddest vamp in Sunnydale anymore." Andrea grinned. Spike had walked over to join her at the door. She lightly pinched his cheek and spoke in a terribly patronizing tone.
"Aw, poor wittle Spike. He's so cute."
"Funny," he growled. Andrea was suddenly struck by how sexy his accent- lilted voice was. And he was looking at her like it was a hot summer afternoon and she was an ice cream cone. She licked her lips nervously as her grin faded, turning her attention back to the Scoobies.
"Bye." She stepped out onto the porch through the open door, which Spike closed behind him. He led her down the front steps and to the sidewalk. He then shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at his feet thoughtfully as they strolled down Revello Drive.
Andrea was different, he thought. She hadn't shunned him the way other people might have. Instead, she had treated him like a man. And she was attracted to him. That much he could see in her hazel eyes. He wanted to kiss her luscious lips until the amused glint in her eyes had been replaced by one of heady desire. Until she moaned in pleasure. Until she begged him to touch her, to take her. He wanted to drag his fingers, then his lips, over her smooth, creamy skin.
"What are you thinking?" Her sudden, unexpected and intimate question took him off guard, startling him out of his fantasy. He stopped, considering whether or not he should tell her the truth.
"Nothing." Instead of outright lying, he chose to dismiss the question. They began the stroll down the street again.
"Spike,"she began softly, "can I ask you a question?"
"Can't promise you I can answer it, love."
"How bad are Buffy's money problems?" It was the second time in as many minutes Andrea had surprised him with a question.
"Why does it matter to you, pet? You don't even know us."
"I'd like to help." He snorted.
"Even if you could, I doubt Buffy would accept any cash you tried to give her."
"How bad is it?"
"After her mum died, she left a nice chunk of change for Dawn and Buffy, but when Buffy was temporarily six feet under the money got spent. Food, clothing. You know. Life's little perks. It's getting pretty bad." Andrea remained silent as a light breeze unsettled her silky hair. They walked in silence for a few moments before a shrill beeping pierced the relaxing quiet that had settled over them. She reached behind her and her hand came back holding something Spike had failed to notice earlier. "I didn't know you had a pager." She glanced up at him, replacing the beeper.
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," she said grimly. She directed them up the walkway to her house. Unlocking the door, she stepped inside. Spike stopped at the doorway.
"I'll just go," he said, starting to back away from the cozy little home. Andrea gazed at him, an unidentifiable emotion flickering through her eyes.
"Come in, Spike," she invited softly, eliminating the invisible barrier in her doorway. He smiled slightly, stepping inside to look around. To his right, a kitchen, his left, the living room. Stairs in front of him led presumably to the master bed- and bathrooms, maybe a study. Andrea tossed her pager and keys onto an end table under a mirror next to the door. "Welcome to my place."
"It's nice," he said truthfully.
"You should feel privileged. You're the first person besides me who's been here since I moved in." He smiled. Spike looked as if he wanted to say something, but stopped when Jill came running to greet them from the living room. She sat down in front of Andrea and cocked her head disapprovingly. "I was only gone for a few hours." Jill meowed shortly and stalked toward Spike, who bent down and held out his hand toward her.
"Hi there, uh, kitten." He smiled at the pun as Jill sniffed his fingers before rubbing her head endearingly against his hand. He scratched her behind the ears and stood. "Well, love," he said to Andrea. "Feel like giving me the grand tour?"
"Speaking of home," she said, glancing at her watch. "I'd better get there before the sun comes up. Jill will be mad at me if I don't feed her." Dawn frowned.
"Jill?"
"My cat," Andrea clarified as she stood.
"Wow, she has a cat." It was clear who Dawn's new role model was fast becoming.
"Andrea, where is your watcher?" asked Giles curiously.
"Probably Tahiti or something. He didn't really like being my watcher. 'She's an unruly part of society. She won't vote. I'm just upset because I'm not getting any,'" she imitated. Spike snorted with barely suppressed laughter.
"I see," Giles assured, cleaning his glasses again. Andrea sighed.
"Well, I guess I'll see you guys later." She paused, halfway to the door. "You guys don't go to church or anything, do you?" Buffy shook her head. "Okay. Goodnight." She opened the door.
"I'll walk you home, love," said Spike suddenly.
"Uh, okay."
"Spike just feels that he needs to assert his masculinity," said Buffy. "He feels bad because he's not the biggest, baddest vamp in Sunnydale anymore." Andrea grinned. Spike had walked over to join her at the door. She lightly pinched his cheek and spoke in a terribly patronizing tone.
"Aw, poor wittle Spike. He's so cute."
"Funny," he growled. Andrea was suddenly struck by how sexy his accent- lilted voice was. And he was looking at her like it was a hot summer afternoon and she was an ice cream cone. She licked her lips nervously as her grin faded, turning her attention back to the Scoobies.
"Bye." She stepped out onto the porch through the open door, which Spike closed behind him. He led her down the front steps and to the sidewalk. He then shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at his feet thoughtfully as they strolled down Revello Drive.
Andrea was different, he thought. She hadn't shunned him the way other people might have. Instead, she had treated him like a man. And she was attracted to him. That much he could see in her hazel eyes. He wanted to kiss her luscious lips until the amused glint in her eyes had been replaced by one of heady desire. Until she moaned in pleasure. Until she begged him to touch her, to take her. He wanted to drag his fingers, then his lips, over her smooth, creamy skin.
"What are you thinking?" Her sudden, unexpected and intimate question took him off guard, startling him out of his fantasy. He stopped, considering whether or not he should tell her the truth.
"Nothing." Instead of outright lying, he chose to dismiss the question. They began the stroll down the street again.
"Spike,"she began softly, "can I ask you a question?"
"Can't promise you I can answer it, love."
"How bad are Buffy's money problems?" It was the second time in as many minutes Andrea had surprised him with a question.
"Why does it matter to you, pet? You don't even know us."
"I'd like to help." He snorted.
"Even if you could, I doubt Buffy would accept any cash you tried to give her."
"How bad is it?"
"After her mum died, she left a nice chunk of change for Dawn and Buffy, but when Buffy was temporarily six feet under the money got spent. Food, clothing. You know. Life's little perks. It's getting pretty bad." Andrea remained silent as a light breeze unsettled her silky hair. They walked in silence for a few moments before a shrill beeping pierced the relaxing quiet that had settled over them. She reached behind her and her hand came back holding something Spike had failed to notice earlier. "I didn't know you had a pager." She glanced up at him, replacing the beeper.
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," she said grimly. She directed them up the walkway to her house. Unlocking the door, she stepped inside. Spike stopped at the doorway.
"I'll just go," he said, starting to back away from the cozy little home. Andrea gazed at him, an unidentifiable emotion flickering through her eyes.
"Come in, Spike," she invited softly, eliminating the invisible barrier in her doorway. He smiled slightly, stepping inside to look around. To his right, a kitchen, his left, the living room. Stairs in front of him led presumably to the master bed- and bathrooms, maybe a study. Andrea tossed her pager and keys onto an end table under a mirror next to the door. "Welcome to my place."
"It's nice," he said truthfully.
"You should feel privileged. You're the first person besides me who's been here since I moved in." He smiled. Spike looked as if he wanted to say something, but stopped when Jill came running to greet them from the living room. She sat down in front of Andrea and cocked her head disapprovingly. "I was only gone for a few hours." Jill meowed shortly and stalked toward Spike, who bent down and held out his hand toward her.
"Hi there, uh, kitten." He smiled at the pun as Jill sniffed his fingers before rubbing her head endearingly against his hand. He scratched her behind the ears and stood. "Well, love," he said to Andrea. "Feel like giving me the grand tour?"