He doesn't know how long he spends under the hot water. It feels like an hour, maybe more, but in reality, it could have been only ten minutes. His clothes are sitting on the toilet lid, washed, when he gets out. He puts on the shirt and trousers, leaving the coat for the moment. He lets his hair go, letting it curl instead of slicking it back. He half wonders if Andrew's going to look at him-there's no way that the bloke doesn't swing his own way-and the cockier side takes it as a compliment, but other than the ego boost, the attention would be unwanted.
The apartment is warm, but it doesn't bother him; he imagines that that's how Andrew likes to keep it.
He steps back into the living room, glad he put his shirt on. Andrew's bright blue eyes snap to him as soon as he realizes that he's in the room with him, looking him over. The kid smiles awkwardly, almost sardonically, and Spike almost asks him what he's thinking.
"Still not back?"
He knows the answer; he isn't sure why he's asking. Why bother making small talk? The shower put some of the unlife back into him, he supposes. Or maybe it's because of how excited the kid had been to see him? It had been a long time since anyone reacted that way to him, and it is refreshing and unnerving at the same time.
"She was gone three days one time."
He almost asks. Decides it's better not to. He doesn't want to know. Angel probably knows, poor sod. He almost pities him. Wonders if Andrew does.
"Want something to drink?"
He probably doesn't, he decides; Andrew never seemed to take a liking to the guy. That thought alone is enough to make him relax around him.
He sits back on the couch, picking his controller back up.
"Got everything I need right here, mate."
Andrew's sitting by him. That same expression is on his face again, but Spike doesn't see.