( spike ) as if you were awfully made for life.
Although it's only coming down at a faint drizzle when Buffy sets out for the Compound, the heavens take their cue to come down on her when she's only a few minutes from her destination, close enough not to accidentally drown yet far enough that she's thoroughly soaked by the time she gets inside. Fortunately, laundry was always the endgame, and Buffy marches her dripping basket of lights and darks down to the basement.
"I wonder if these count as already washed," she muses as she drops the basket on an empty table and starts separating into two piles. This was so much easier when she could call it a chore and make Dawn do it.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spots the familiar swish of... swishy black leather, overly long and of the duster variety. Spike, who she hasn't spoken to since he was in her body, which sounds wrong on so many levels it's difficult to even begin to process. But there's no time like the present, right? Such is Buffy's reasoning for abandoning her piles and walking over to confront Spike. She might have tried for 'intimidating,' maybe, but she's still drenched and feeling more than a little embarrassed in the wake of bodyswitch mania. It wasn't easy on any of them.
"I wonder if these count as already washed," she muses as she drops the basket on an empty table and starts separating into two piles. This was so much easier when she could call it a chore and make Dawn do it.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spots the familiar swish of... swishy black leather, overly long and of the duster variety. Spike, who she hasn't spoken to since he was in her body, which sounds wrong on so many levels it's difficult to even begin to process. But there's no time like the present, right? Such is Buffy's reasoning for abandoning her piles and walking over to confront Spike. She might have tried for 'intimidating,' maybe, but she's still drenched and feeling more than a little embarrassed in the wake of bodyswitch mania. It wasn't easy on any of them.