Willow entered the apartment, not surprised to find it empty. The television
was still playing, but Spike appeared to have left. She shut the door behind
her, walking towards her room. She was still carrying the bottle of purple
liquid that Madame Ruth had given her. She entered her room, placing the
bottle on her dresser. She still wasn't sure if she was going to drink the
potion. She wasn't exactly sure what it was, but she didn't believe that it
was a love potion. Despite everything she had seen in her short life, love
potions just didn't seem real. She shrugged, deciding that she would leave it
for a while. She went to her bathroom, showering away the sweat from her
walk. She pulled on an old pair of boxers and a tank top, leaving her wet
hair to air dry.
 

She walked back into her room, her eyes moving straight to the bottle of
potion. Number 12a, Ruth had called it. Willow's lips twitched at that name,
rolling her eyes. Just a gimmick. A way to make money. Of course, a part of
her mind reminded her, she hadn't paid for the potion. It had been a gift
from Madame Ruth. Smiling sheepishly, she opened the bottle. She sniffed, not
smelling any obvious odor. She put the bottle back down, moving to her desk.
She turned her computer on, her eyes moving back to the bottle again. With a
groan, she left her room, getting a spoon from the kitchen. She felt so silly
but she couldn't resist.
 

She held the spoon, laughing as she saw it shaking slightly. She let out a
breath, wondering why she was so nervous if she knew it wasn't going to work.
She held the bottle, carefully pouring out the first spoonful. She drank it
down, noticing that it had a sweet taste. She poured the second spoon,
drinking it down easily. She licked the spoon clean then put the top back on
the bottle. She put the bottle in her top drawer, knowing that she couldn't
chance Spike finding it and asking nosy questions. She was embarrassed enough
knowing that she had just taken a love potion without having the world know.
And if Spike found out, the world would indeed know.
 

She sat at her desk, signing on to check her email. She was reading her
second letter when she heard the door slam.
 

"Reeeeeed," Spike growled as he stormed into the apartment. He saw her door
open and the light on, his eyes narrowing.
 

Willow rolled her eyes as she heard his voice, wondering what his problem
was. She decided to ignore him in hopes that he'd just go to his room and
shut up.
 

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded as he entered her room, not
waiting for an invitation.
 

"Hi Spike. Why don't you come in? Oh wait. You're already here!" she said
dryly, glaring at him before she went back to her reading.
 

"I asked you a question," he said, falling onto her bed, his blue eyes moving
over her slowly, noticing the wet hair, the tight tank top, the glimpse of
stomach the low waist of the boxers showed, down the long legs that were
wrapped around the legs of the chair. He scowled as he watched a drop of
water sliding down her neck, disappearing under the collar of her shirt. He
shifted on the bed, glaring at her as she refused to look at him.
 

"Did you?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "I didn't hear it underneath all that
snarling."
 

"Where did you go," he repeated slowly, his words a warning.
 

"For a walk," she said in an overly polite tone.
 

"For over two hours?" he asked, sitting up and glaring at her openly.
 

"Was I gone that long?" she asked, giving him a lofty look. "I guess I
enjoyed the peace and quiet so much that time flew by."
 

"How long have you been back?" he asked, ignoring her annoyed tone.
 

"I didn't check the clock," she said, scowling at him. "I wasn't aware that I
was supposed to keep track."
 

"You've showered," he remarked, his eyes trailing a new droplet of water.
"You've been home at least an hour. That means you were gone for nearly three
hours!"
 

"So what?" she asked, looking away from her email to look at him. "Three
minutes or three hours, it's my time. What do you care?"
 

He glared at her, growling, "I was worried, damn it!"
 

She felt the fight leave her as he growled, his words giving her pause. He
had been worried? About her? She asked softly, "You were gone when I got
back. Where were you?"
 

"I was looking for you," he said, getting to his feet. "You're usually only
gone an hour when you're in one of your moods."
 

"One of my moods?" she repeated, her eyes narrowing. "Who was it that told me
to leave? If I remember the exact words, they were 'If you don't like the
noise, get the bloody fuck out of here and get yourself lost.' That was what
you said, wasn't it?"
 

He scowled at her, "And when did you start listening to what I said?"
 

"I did tonight," she pointed out, her hand going up to push her hair out of
her face. She looked up, frowning when she saw his eyes moving along her
neck. She looked down, seeing a drop of water drip down to her shirt. Her
eyes looked up again, surprised to see a twitch in his cheek. His hands were
clenched, his knuckles white. She frowned, wondering what had him so on edge.
 

"Whatever," he snarled, not looking at her as he left her room for fear she
would clearly see his arousal. He stormed to his room and slammed the door.
He fell onto his bed, his hand freeing his cock as he began to stroke
himself, visions of her in his head.
 

Willow looked at the empty doorway, her green eyes confused. What the hell
was wrong with him? Yelling at her in her own room then leaving like some
sullen child. She would never understand him, she decided. He was so damn
infuriating. Acting as if it were her fault he had been worried. She felt a
small smile cross her face as she looked back at her computer. He had been
worried about her.
 

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