The heels of Merussia's boots clicked rhythmically as she walked slowly down the hallway. She was unfamiliar with this part of campus and the room order did not follow any order she could fathom. She moved slowly so she could scan the plaque beside each door as she went. Her stomach fluttered nervously and she couldn't stop herself from fidgeting constantly with her purse.

Finally she reached a door marked "Studio B," where Grey had asked her to meet him, and she placed her hand on the door handle. Standing there for a moment she almost let go and left, but the thought of the money she would earn inside held her fast. Merussia took a deep breath, turned the handle, and gently pushed the door open.

Grey was near the center of the room, setting up his easel. He looked up and smiled as she came in. "Hello Merussia. Did you have trouble finding the studio?"

"Hi.. no-well, a little.. but it is okay." Merussia stammered in her heavily accented English. She returned his smile but averted her gaze quickly to study the room. It was mostly bare, with white walls and large windows along the outer wall. The glass was puckered; no one could see in, but plenty of light came in. An oval, slightly raised platform was in the center of the room, and on it sat a plush, though slightly thread-bare, red divan.

Merussia shut the door behind her and walked over to observe the rest of Grey's preparations. When he had finished placing his paints, brushes, and other implements, he looked up at his model with an air of expectancy.

"Where.. aah.. how.. would you like me to sit?" She asked hesitantly. Her fingers itched to pick at the strap of her purse, but she made them be still.

"You can undress behind the screen." Grey said with an off-handed gesture to the corner of the room. He spoke with such an unexpected tone of normality that Merussia couldn't immediately understand his meaning.

"I... errr.. what?" She stammered, blushing as his words finally sank in.

"I'm sorry.. didn't you know? It's standard, you know-to paint a nude model.. It's to really see and understand the human form."

"Oh, I.. I did not know.." Merussia murmured uncertainly.

"Well, you don't have to, if it makes you too uncomfortable," Grey looked at her sympathetically, "although the payment would be less."

Merussia didn't have to think it over for long-she needed money more than she needed modesty. "It is.. okay. I will do it." She turned quickly, before she could change her mind, and hastened behind the screen. To her relief she found a long, large robe hanging there, so at least she wouldn't have to display herself as she walked back to the divan.

She sat and then arranged herself with Grey's directions before she had to let the robe fall from her shoulders and legs. He studied Merussia quietly and without comment for several moments before he began to sketch lightly on his canvas. Although his regard was steady and penetrating, his eyes contained no emotion to make his novice model uncomfortable-the worst she could say he made her feel was self-conscious.

After he finished his preliminary sketch-with soft, long strokes against the canvas using the side of the pencil lead-Grey picked up one of his brushes and began mixing paints on his palette. He finally broke the silence then, asking Merussia innocuous questions about her life in Russia, her family, and her studies in Sunnydale. At first she felt a little odd, sitting exposed before him while he asked her such everyday questions, but soon she relaxed and even managed to answer some of his questions.

Perhaps more informative than her answers were those questions she avoided or replied to very quickly with a stuttered no. She spoke very freely of her childhood: her dream of being a ballet dancer, her criminal activities to further that goal, and even her antagonistic relationship with her brother; however, when he tried to discover why she had chosen to study engineering rather than dance, or why specifically she chose Sunnydale, she would give only the vague responses she had provided in class earlier that week. Even his understandable curiosity about the snake tattoo on her chest was met with firm, though stammered, resistance.

When the hour was finished, Merussia stood and immediately re-adjusted the robe, although not before revealing the tattoo of a small pentagram on her lower back. While Grey cleaned up the portrait, his model disappeared behind the curtain. Leaning against the wall, Merussia took a deep breath and clasped her hands in front of her to steady them. She did her best not to think about what her father might have said, walking in on such a scene as just passed. Once she was dressed, she felt calmer and more normal.

"May I see it?" She asked quietly, coming up beside him.

"No-" he covered it quickly, "It's ... not ready yet." There was a slight tremor in his voice but Merussia attributed it to artistic peculiarity.

"Okay.." she said, turning away and walking to the other side of the canvas. She studied the room quietly, trying to determine the proper course of action. Thankfully, Grey saved her the need to decide. He pulled out his wallet and swiftly counted some bills.

"Would you like to go out for coffee.. sometime?" He asked, hopeful but uncertain, as he placed the bills in her hand.

"Sure." She smiled, temporarily forgetting her newly acquired wealth and her discomfort of the hour before. With a jolt, Merussia found herself admiring his eyes. She looked away quickly, said goodbye, and fled the studio.