7.8 Sleeper
Transcribed by CariCranberry for BuffyWorld

SPIKE'S ROOM AT XANDER'S APARTMENT - DAY


Anya sneaks into Spike's room quietly, holding a stake in her hand. Spike's sleeping shirtless in the bed. She sneaks over to his dresser and goes through each drawer looking for something. The shot shows that Spike's wearing nothing under the sheets. Anya goes through his pants which are on the bed, then through his shirt which is on the floor. He rolls over, and she continues rifling through his stuff. He wakes and grabs her wrist. She's frozen in panic.

SPIKE: Anya, do be specific and tell a fellow just exactly what you're doing here.
ANYA: Well, Spike... I'm here, obviously... for...um...sex.
SPIKE: (sits up, retracts) Uh, beg pardon.
ANYA: (kneels beside bed, holding stake) You and me. Here and now. Let's go. Let's... get it on, you big bad boy.
SPIKE: Wait, wait, Anya. Just a minute. This is not exactly—is that a stake?
ANYA: Yes. Kinky. (puts the stake down)
SPIKE: Uh, well, yeah, but what do you—?
ANYA: Shh. (presses her finger to his lips) No questions. No talking. I can't help it. I can't stop thinking about you and us and our brief but unforgettable time together. I mean, it's—why else would I be here? I mean, it's not like I'm snooping around looking for proof that you're some sort of wacked out serial killer. (laughs) I don't know why I said that. Forget I said that. It's craziness talking. It's just nerves. Nerves. Nerves and-and horniness. Oh, just shut up, William, and take me. Take me now. (breathes hard)
Anya has slowly inched closer and closer to him while she talked. She leans over his chest, and kisses his neck. Spike has backed away as far as he can, but there's a wall preventing further retreat, so he just lies there, still and unresponsive. Anya notices the utter lack of reciprocation and sits up.
SPIKE: (sighs) Anya.
ANYA: Hmm?
SPIKE: It's not that I'm not tempted. Obviously, if things were different, you're a ripe catch.
ANYA: I got it. No problem, I understand. (beat) You think I'm fat.
SPIKE: What?
ANYA: Well, it's either that or the haircut.
SPIKE: Ridiculous. The do's quite fetching.
ANYA: Oh, right. Now you like the haircut.
SPIKE: Love it.
ANYA: Sure, as a friend.
SPIKE: Anya.
ANYA: You know, you were a lot more fun when you didn't have a soul.
SPIKE: Oh, come on. Now, I've just explained to you—
ANYA: All I'm saying is soulless Spike would have had me upside down and half way to happy land by now.
SPIKE: I need my pants.
Anya throws him his pants poutily, but she doesn't move.
Cut to:
15 INT. XANDER'S APARTMENT - DAY
Still pouting, Anya's sitting in Xander's easy chair, reading a magazine near a floor lamp. Spike comes out of his room, clothed, buttoning his shirt.
SPIKE: Didn't mean to hurt your feelings, luv.
ANYA: (pouts, doesn't look at him) Who's hurt. I'm fine.
SPIKE: Right. Look, uh, I got things to do.
ANYA: Don't stick around on my account.
Spike walks out of the apartment. Once he's gone, Anya puts down the magazine and picks up the phone.
ANYA: (dials phone) It's me. He's leaving.