"Fix what?"
"Your shirt. I can't let the stain set, and I'm not working late." She approached him as she spoke. When he didn't move, she eased around him, frazzled by his strange intensity and his difficult cat.
Jessi walked into the kitchen and set the cat's bowls on the floor along with the cat. She went to the fridge and retrieved a lemon, pausing to stare at the food in the massive refrigerator.
"You've got like, five cows worth of meat in here," she said.
"It's all I eat."
"Your cholesterol has got to be either really good or really bad."
"You're worried about my cholesterol." Xander was in the kitchen, a few feet away, still gazing at her in a way that told her he really didn't know what to think.
"Bowls?" she asked.
He tilted his head towards one cabinet in response. She opened it and stretched upward on tiptoes to pull down a set of nestled, glass bowls. Selecting the largest, she went to the pristine sink area, almost afraid to run water for fear of leaving water marks in the stainless steel. She turned on the faucet and let it run until it was hot enough then filled the bowl.
Overly aware of his intent scrutiny, Jessi tried to act normal as she pulled a paring knife free from the block of sleek knives and sliced through the lemon.
"Ouch, dammit," she muttered. The knife wasn't like hers - dull enough she had to saw through things with effort. This one slid through the lemon like it was tissue paper and pricked her finger on the other side.
Lemon juice stung. She set it in the bowl in the sink then shook her hand.
"You need to clean that up." Xander's low growl startled her.
"I will when I'm done," she said, glancing at her mess.
"Not that. Blood."
Jessi eyed him. This time, his eyes seemed to glow a little more.
He was wearing vampire teeth.
"Oh. That's right you're a vampire." She managed to say it with a straight face and rinsed the bubbling blood off under the faucet. "Sorry."
"You have no clue, girl."
The menace in his voice made her want to leave even more. She began to wonder if she needed to bring a can of mace.
"Shirt," she directed hurriedly.
"You do laundry in the sink." He wasn't impressed.
"If you want to get a red-based stain out, you have to use lemon, dish soap and hot water," she explained. "Then I'll toss it in the washer and worry about it tomorrow when I get in."
He wasn't moving. She rested a hand on her hip.