********************

Willow angrily slammed the door and stormed into her house. She had had a
long day and all she wanted was to relax in her bathtub. However, the sight
she was greeted with was far from relaxing. Her kitchen, her lovely kitchen,
was a disaster area. Sullied kitchenware filled the sink to overflowing. The
door of the refrigerator hung open, leaving the contents to be exposed to
the muggy California heat. The garbage, long past overflowing to the
beautiful white tile floor, blended in with the rest of the kitchen. A stink
of rotted meat, old milk, and blood permeated the room. Willow pinched her
nose in disgust. Burnt, crummy toast littered the counter. The door of the
microwave hung open on its hinges, covered in a crusty, sticky substance.

Angrily Willow stomped to the cabinet to get a mug. A nice, warm glass of
milk would calm her down. She ripped open the cabinet to discover nothing
save empty space. Then she glanced down at the sink, where a plethora of
dirty mugs sat. She picked one up, then dropped it quickly. That one’s
contents had obviously been blood. She picked up another, glaring at the
crusty mess that filled it. She washed it out and stomped over to the
fridge, where she pulled out the jug of milk only to discover that it was
empty. Jaw clenched, Willow stalked over the garbage pan where she took out
her frustrations by slamming the container into the wall.

Then, systematically, she grabbed a large garbage bag from a cabinet, the
only cabinet that remained untouched in the fray. She walked around the
kitchen, picking up the trash laying everywhere. When she had finished that
task she took the trash to the can outside. She returned and used a wet
washcloth to wipe the crumbs from the counter and the floor. Then, she set
out to do the dishes. As she scrubbed furiously, she could hear the TV
blaring away in the other room. With each passing dish her anger grew. She
was sick and tired of coming home to a mess everyday. She was sick and tired
of her ignorant, stupid, bleach blond roommate. Finally she finished with
the dishes, only slightly satisfied that her kitchen was once again clean.
She stomped out of the kitchen and into the living room, where Spike was
watching a soap opera.

"I’m home," said Willow, her voice icy. Spike didn’t respond. "I’ve been
home for over an hour now."

"That’s nice, pet," Spike murmured.

"Do you know what I’ve been doing? I’ve been cleaning the kitchen! Imagine
that!"

"Luv," Spike managed to pull his eyes from the telly, "Can’t you see that
I’m busy here?"

Willow’s last nerve snapped. "MEN!" She screamed. "I HATE THEM!" She stomped
to the television and flicked it off. She turned back to Spike. "You listen,
and you listen good, mister. I’m sick and tired of coming home to a dirty
house! I work hard, Spike, and I’m very busy. I leave the house in pristine
condition, and when I come back it looks like a hellhole! I’m sick of having
to come home and clean it up when there are so many things I need to be
doing! You sit around on your lazy ass all day long and do nothing, save for
making the mess you leave for me to clean up! WOULD IT KILL YOU TO PICK UP
AFTER YOURSELF? IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR YOU TO THROW OUT OLD CONTAINERS
AND MAKE A FUCKING SHOPPING LIST?!"

"Pet," Spike said smoothly, "don’t you think that you’re over exaggerating
just a bit?"

Willow needed to get out of there before she personally staked the idiot.
"AURGH!" She screamed, then stomped off to the bathroom, where she slammed
and locked the door. "MEN!"

Spike just shrugged and flicked the television back on. "She must be
PMSing."

********************

Willow sighed contentedly as the warm water washed over her tired, aching
body. She lifted vanilla flavor bubbles in her hand and blew lightly,
watching as they sailed around the room. She giggled in a childlike,
enraptured manner. She was just reaching for her shampoo when the door of
the bathroom flew open. Willow shrieked and slid under the protective layer
of bubbles. "Spike!" Willow sputtered.

Spike barely gave his naked redheaded roommate a second glance. "Yeah," He
muttered gruffly.

"I’m kind of taking a bath, here!"

"Yeah," he said, "so I noticed."

"GET OUT!" She shrieked.

"Why? He asked. "Doesn’t bother me much."

"IT BOTHERS ME!"

"Oh," Spike nodded knowingly. "You’re embarrassed. Don’t worry about it.
I’ve seen plenty of naked women before."

Willow flushed dark red in a mixture of embarrassment and anger. She counted
to ten slowly in her head. "Spike," she said, "you have ten seconds to get
out of here or I swear to God you’ll be sorry."

He held up his hands. "Wait."

"1.."

"I just came in here to tell you something."

"2..3..4.."

"I’m going out."

"5..6.."

"To see Harmony"

"7..8.."

"I’ll be back in the morning."

"9.."

"Bye!"

"10"

He blew her a kiss and slammed the door shut just as Willow’s shampoo went
flying through the air. It smashed into the now shut door and fell to the
floor. Willow stood up angrily and stepped out of the tub. Thanks to Spike,
her perfectly relaxing bath time was shot to hell. She grabbed her
terrycloth robe and wrapped it around her body, shivering slightly. She
drained the tub and pulled a comb through her hair before stepping out of
the bathroom. Her stomach growled in hunger, and she journeyed to the
kitchen. The sight was a catastrophe- garbage everywhere, dirty dishes and
crumbs littering the counters and the floor. Willow opened her mouth and let
out an ear piercing scream to the empty walls around her. "I’M GOING TO KILL
HIM!"

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