Chapter One:

Buffy rolled her eyes from her hiding place by the stairs in the large ballroom. Her father was at it again, schmoozing Mayor Wilkins, trying to get him to invest in his latest poorly thought out business venture. Her father liked to present himself as a wealthy entrepreneur, but really her family had been living off her grandfather's money for years. They lived in a huge house and Buffy had attended only the best schools, but her father's inheritance was rapidly disappearing.

Since her mother had begged off this evening, Hank Summers had elected to make an appearance at this charity ball with his lovely daughter. When he realized Buffy wouldn't play along with his attempts to leech money from Sunnydale's elite, he promptly ditched her. That was fine with Buffy. She was much happier sipping her champagne, hidden from the supposed upper crust of society and their hoards of mindless followers.

She observed the room and had to stifle a snort as she watched Harmony Kendall in a barely there strapless red dress attempting to shove her tits into some unsuspecting waiter's face. Knowing Harmony, she probably thought the young man was some rich politician's son. Buffy shook her head and smoothed her hands over her much more conservative sleeveless, pale pink gown.

She sat her empty glass on a passing waiter's tray and was about to call it a night, when she saw him. He seemed to be engaged in a rather intense discussion with the Sunnydale police commissioner. Since she clearly didn't even register on his radar, she took her time looking him over. He was lean and nicely formed as much as she could tell in his well-tailored tuxedo. His face was expressive as he attempted to drive home his point to his companion. His cerulean orbs sparkled brightly against his alabaster skin, and his cheek bones were high and sharp. He was quite striking really. It might have been his shock of platinum blond hair or perhaps how he seemed to carry himself with an air of authority. She had never seen anyone quite like him, and she continued to gaze at him unabashedly from her place beside the stairs.

As if sensing her attention, the man turned his head and met her eyes. Buffy gasped at having been caught but couldn't bring herself to break contact. Her cheeks burned as the man gave her a devilish grin before turning back to the commissioner. Buffy let out a breath and looked down. Now that she had thoroughly embarrassed herself, she figured this would be an excellent time to make her escape. She raised her head to seek out the closest exit and found herself staring into the azure depths of the man she'd been admiring.

He grinned at her, raising an eyebrow, "You weren't going anywhere, were you, luv?"

Buffy gaped at him, "I—I—I was just..."

He smirked at her flustered state, "Because the night is young, and I haven't even gotten a dance yet." Giving her a charming smile, "First things first, pet. What do they call a beautiful creature such as yourself?"

She blushed, "Oh...my name is Buffy. Buffy Summers."

"Well, Miss Buffy Summers," he said taking her hand in his, "my name is William Blackwell, and I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance." He raised the back of her hand to his lips and bestowed it with a gentle kiss.

Buffy's cheeks darkened further as she giggled nervously, "Your hand is cold! And your lips...I mean..."

He smiled, "S'all right, kitten. You know what they say—cold hands, warm heart. I imagine the same goes for lips. Don't you think?" He raised an eyebrow and gave her a lascivious grin, "Or maybe something else is warm."

Buffy didn't think her cheeks could possibly be any hotter than they were right then. This man was doing all sorts of interesting things to her body, and he had barely touched her.

"How about that dance now, pet?"

Buffy nodded dumbly and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor. William firmly clasped one of her tiny hands in one of his cool hands and snaked his other arm around her waist, pulling her snugly against his body. Buffy laid her free hand on his shoulder. As they swayed to the music, Buffy felt as if William was pressing her impossibly closer to his body. She tried not to gasp when she felt him nuzzling her neck with his nose before placing light kisses on the sensitive skin. Had she just met this man minutes before?

Buffy's heart sped up when she felt his thick length pressed against her stomach. Suddenly, she felt as if she was drowning. She thought she might faint if she didn't soon make a move to separate their intertwined bodies. As the song ended, she gently pushed against his chest, breaking the connection.

"I really should get going," she murmured breathlessly.

William nodded, "All right, pet, but I'm having a small get-together at my house in a couple of nights. I would love it if you would attend. It's just going to be a few friends by the pool for a little night swim. Very casual."

"Oh...umm..." Somehow the idea of not seeing this man again seemed almost painful. "All right, I'd love to go."

He graced her with a brilliant smile, "Wonderful, kitten." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. Handing it to her, "Just call the second number, and they'll send a car to pick you up." He leaned down and gave her a light kiss on her cheek. "I look forward to seeing you there."

Buffy was in a daze as she left the building in search of her family's car. Most likely, they wouldn't be able to afford their driver much longer. She would use him while she could. She imagined William Blackwell had no trouble keeping drivers on the payroll.

Chapter Two:

It was late Friday evening when William's limousine arrived at Buffy's home. She soon found herself seated in the back gazing out the window as the vehicle sped past the city limits. She attempted to question the driver but found that he wasn't terribly forthcoming. So, she leaned back in her seat—nervously clutching her bag containing her swimsuit, cell phone, and a few other girly items she probably wouldn't need—while she strained her eyes, trying to admire the scenery through the mask of the pitch black night.

This was crazy. She never did anything like this. Buffy always played it safe. She lived with her parents. She handled the books for her father's many unfortunate business ventures as well as at her mother's gallery. She had only ever left home to attend a highly ranked business school at her father's request. She dated only safe men, never getting too emotionally involved. She had lost her virginity in a rare fit of youthful rebellion. That was her first and only sexual experience, an event she would always regret. No, it was much easier playing it safe.

And yet here she was, on her way out of town, to the remote estate of a man she really didn't know at all. They had shared one intoxicating dance. That was all. So why was he all she could think about? Her father had instructed her to get her head out of the clouds more than once over the last couple of days. But how could she, when she could still recall William Blackwell's cool lips on her hand and cheek? How could she cast aside the memory of his body pressed so intimately against hers even through layers of fabric?

The driver pulled off onto a winding, isolated road in a dense, wooded area. As they veered farther from the main road, Buffy couldn't help but think that the ride had taken on the feel of some Hollywood thriller cliche'. Young woman gets into vehicle intending to be driven to strange man's estate. Instead, she is taken to the middle of the woods to be hunted like an animal. She wouldn't be surprised if she had lost cell phone reception at this point.

Just when she was beginning to question her decision to accept William's invitation, the road opened up to an enormous estate. There was a rather imposing four story mansion and several smaller houses off to the side. The driver pulled to a stop beside a set of steps leading up to the main house. He exited the vehicle and opened Buffy's door, taking her arm and leading her from the car. He gave her a nod as he left her with a very thin brunette woman waiting at the bottom of the steps.

"Hello there, Miss. I'm Winifred, but you may call me Fred if you wish. Please follow me. Mr. Blackwell is expecting you." She led Buffy up the steps and into the house. Buffy couldn't help but notice the color scheme of deep wine and black in the foyer and sitting room Fred led her through. She wondered if it was the same throughout the house.

When they were about fifteen feet from a set of glass doors at the back of the house, Buffy could hear muffled yelling from the outside. Fred stopped abruptly and turned towards her, "Mr. Blackwell and his guests are out back by the pool through those doors," she said gesturing towards the glass doors, "would—would you like me to escort you the rest of the way, Miss?"

"Oh, umm, no, I guess not." Fred gave her a shaky nod and wandered off through a door at the side of the room. Buffy took a few steps towards the glass doors and could make out bits and pieces of what seemed to be a heated argument.

"..........not a problem............"

"......that girl.......unless.......planning to........"

"........fucking touch her.........."

Then, as Buffy took a couple more steps forward, the voices stopped abruptly, almost as if they had heard her approach—but that was impossible as she hadn't even reached the doors yet. She paused there for a moment, and when there were no further sounds, she continued forward.

As she walked out the doors and stepped onto the patio, she felt goosebumps break out all over her skin. She looked towards the pool to see William standing by the edge staring at her with an intense expression on his face. He was wearing a pair of deep blue swim trunks that openly displayed his beautifully sculpted body. Beside him was a bulkier brown-haired man in black trunks, also regarding her, but with a sly smirk on his face.

Suddenly, William's face broke out in a wide grin, "Buffy! Come here! I want to introduce you to some people."

She shyly approached William and the other man. As she reached them, she noticed a dark-haired woman and a blonde lounging in a hot tub to the side of the pool. William wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to his body. She was surprised to find his body as cool as his lips and hands had been at the ball. Then again, the temperature was a bit lower than average that night.

"Kitten," he waived a hand at the man, "this is Liam O'Connor." He pointed towards the hot tub. "The ladies are Drusilla Holt and Darla Madison." The women nodded at Buffy from their place in the tub before resuming whispering to one another. "Liam and the ladies are my...business associates."

Liam laughed, slapping William on the back, "Come on, Willy boy, we're much more than that!" He turned towards Buffy, "Spike doesn't like to admit that the four of us are practically inseparable."

Buffy looked confused as she felt William's grip on her tighten, "Spike?"

Liam raised his eyebrows, "He hasn't told you? All of his best mates call him Spike. You should probably get used to it if you plan on joining our little...club."

"Oh, I don't know if I'm going to be—I mean—William...Spike just invited me tonight is all..."

Spike smiled down at her, "Ah, but I'm hoping I can persuade you to let me enjoy your company more in the future, with or without this crew."

Buffy blushed. "I—you said they were your business associates. What exactly is it that you do?"

"I actually have shares in several regional businesses including a rather popular nightclub run by these three. You may have heard of it—Midnight Blue."

Buffy had heard of it. It was an extremely popular nightclub about an hour's drive from Sunnydale. It was probably much closer to William's estate than her own home. Midnight Blue was known for catering to the more extreme side of the goth subculture. Between the hardcore goths, wannabes, and hangers-on—business was always booming.

"Wow, with you owning a piece of so many businesses, I'm surprised my father hasn't hit you up." Buffy's eyes widened and heat crept up the back of her neck as she realized what she had said.

Spike smiled, "S'all right, pet. You can't control your father. I don't imagine he and I are in the same place very often. Most of the events I attend have much...tighter guest lists than the ball the other night."

Liam rolled his eyes, "Are we gonna get on with it or what?" Glancing at Buffy's bag, "I hope you have a two-piece in there."

"Oh...umm...where can I change?"

"Pool house, luv," Spike said, gesturing towards a small building to the side of the patio.

"'Kay, thanks...I'll...just..." She awkwardly broke out of his grasp and started to stumble towards the pool house. Giggling uneasily, "Whoa, feeling a little light-headed tonight."

She reached the building and entered, leaning her forehead against the closed door. What was she doing here?

This was going to be one strange night.

Chapter Three:

Buffy felt insecure in her modest hunter green one-piece swimsuit. Wil—Spike and Liam were probably accustomed to being in the company of beautiful women that weren't afraid to show off their bodies. What little she had seen of Darla and Drusilla had certainly involved a lot of skin. She wished she could give herself a once over before rejoining the group, but she had yet to locate a mirror in the small pool house.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and walked out onto the patio. Immediately, she noticed that someone had turned off the main patio lights in favor of a few dimly lit globes on pillars spread about the deck. As the lights flickered, she realized that the globes actually contained candles. She squinted her eyes to see in the intimate lighting. At first, she didn't spot anyone at all, and for a moment, she thought that maybe they'd all decided she was too boring and had simply wandered off. Then, she spotted four sets of heads and shoulders protruding from the hot tub by the pool. She carefully made her way in that direction, trying not to trip over her feet and embarrass herself.

As she approached the tub, she saw that Liam had taken up residence between Drusilla and Darla, and Spike was sitting across from the three. They were all talking quietly and drinking some sort of dark beverage from glass goblets. She couldn't make out the color in the dim lighting.

"Luv, you should get in. I suspect there's a chill in the air tonight."

Buffy jumped at the sound of Spike's voice. He hadn't even looked up yet. In the near darkness, she had been sure he didn't know she was there. She opened her mouth to answer, but instead stepped closer to the tub. She now had the attention of the entire group. Liam and Darla with their matching smirks, Drusilla with her...eager expression, and Spike—head tilted, waiting.

Embarrassed by the attention, Buffy slipped into the tub between Darla and Spike. She closed her eyes and let out a little moan as the hot bubbles caressed her skin.

"Now that's the kind of sound I like to hear from a gorgeous woman in my presence."

Buffy's eyes flew open to see Liam leering at her. She blushed and looked down. Spike had fixed a glare on the other man and looked ready for an argument when Darla interjected.

"Now, Angel, you shouldn't embarrass the girl. Betty looks likes the sensitive type." She looked at Buffy with raised eyebrows. "Am I right?"

Buffy blinked, "Umm...yeah, I guess so...and it's...Buffy."

Darla smiled sweetly, "Oh, my mistake, Buffy."

"No biggie..." Buffy smiled nervously and glanced over at Spike. He was looking down. She noticed his jaw tic as he stared blankly into the tub. She turned back to Darla, "So, you called Liam—Angel..."

"Oh yes, that's what we call him. I guess our men just have special names..."

"Oh," she glanced at Liam's widely grinning face, "do they call you Angel, because...you're so sweet?"

At that, Darla snorted loudly but tried to cover it with a cough. Drusilla did nothing to disguise her giggles.

Liam, for his part, continued aiming his toothy grin at Buffy. "That's exactly why. You should get comfortable using it, beautiful. I think Spike intends to keep you around for a long time.

"That's enough, Angel," Spike snapped. "You've had your fun. Stop teasing the girl."

He turned towards Buffy and reached a hand out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, "Sorry about this lot, luv, they aren't completely house-trained."

"Nooo, nooo...it's fine. It's me. I'm just...sheltered. All of this must seem really mundane to all of you, but this is the most excitement I've had in weeks!" Buffy's cheeks burned at her admission.

Spike smiled down at her before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Buffy snuggled into his body. She found him to be much warmer than before.

"So, Buffy," Angel began, "Dru was telling us the most amusing story while you were in the pool house. Care to hear it?"

"Oh, I guess—"

"She doesn't want to hear that story, Angel," Spike gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Sure she does! Don't be a stick-in-the-mud, Willy boy. She'll love it, but first," he said raising his glass, "I think this calls for a refill. And Buffy, since your gracious host so rudely didn't offer, would you like a drink?"

Buffy raised her eyebrows, "Oh...oh, no...Buffy and alcohol are unmixy things. One glass of champagne a month is my limit."

"Oh, but you'll like this," Darla said pulling a bottle from behind Angel on the deck. "It's plum wine. Sweet...like Angel." This elicited a new round of giggles from Drusilla.

Buffy bit her lip, "I guess a little won't hurt."

"That's the spirit!" Angel exclaimed, taking the bottle from Darla and pouring a hefty amount of the dark liquid into a glass goblet. He leaned towards Buffy with the glass, and she found she practically had to pry Spike off of her to move forward and retrieve it.

"Thank you," Buffy said smiling politely.

"You're very welcome. You know you have the most beaut—"

"Daddy! When can I tell my story?!" Apparently, Drusilla was getting antsy. She had yet to really involve herself in what was going on around her. Buffy had noticed her muttering to herself earlier but elected not to say anything.

Buffy furrowed her brow. Daddy? Creepy much.

Angel smiled as he settled back against the wall of the tub, "By all means, Dru, tell away."

Drusilla's eyes lit up as she leaned in, "Well, it happened last week at the club. There was this bloke at the bar—a real dark and brooding type—kind of like Angel when he doesn't get his way." Angel rolled his eyes as Dru continued her story, "He had been sitting at the bar for a couple of hours when this ridiculous wannabe Queen of the Damned chit starts rubbing up against him. Her tits were as big as her head! He just ignored her, though. Kept sipping his beer, just staring at the bar. So, she starts whispering in his ear that she isn't wearing any knickers, and—"

"And they all lived happily ever after. The end."

Drusilla pouted at Spike, "That's not how it goes. I want to tell it right."

Angel batted his eyelashes, "Yeah, Spike, let her tell it right. Pleeeease."

Spike turned his head, clenching his jaw.

Drusilla wrinkled her brow, "Now, where was I?"

"No knickers," Darla piped in.

"Oh, right. So, she won't let up. She must have mentioned her lack of undergarments ten times. Finally, he finishes his beer and stands up. He turns to the bird and just gives her this blank look. Well, she clearly thinks she's won him over. Then, all of the sudden, he just takes his bottle, reaches under her skirt, and jams it up her cunt. The funniest part is that she threw up all over the bar. Guess he got it in there good and proper!"

Darla laughed, "Oh no, Dru, that's not the funniest part. Tell her what the guy said!"

Drusilla giggled, "As she was doubled up over the bar, he just leans down next to her head and says 'guess you weren't wearing any knickers then, good to know' and walks off without another word."

The girls dissolved into giggles as Angel chuckled heartily between them. Buffy was fairly certain that she was in shock, so she did the only thing she could think of, she tipped back her glass and downed her wine.

Dru giggled, "It's not as funny as the story about the puppy and the fire extinguisher!"

Angel shook his head at her, "Actually, Dru, I think you're the only one that finds that story amusing."

Buffy nearly choked on her wine at that exchange. Luckily, it all went down smoothly, but she was beginning to feel extremely light-headed. That was a lot of wine for someone with such low tolerance.

"So...uh...do a lot of interesting things happen at the club?"

Drusilla smiled, "Oh yes, like—"

Spike shot her a look, "Like we'll save those stories for another time."

Dru huffed, "You're no fun anymore, my prince. No fun at all."

Angel ran his fingertips down Drusilla's arm, "Maybe if you ask nicely, Spike will let you play with his toys."

Dru perked up at that and slid over to Spike, pawing at his chest, "Oh, please, oh pretty, pretty please, let mummy play!" She continued rubbing her hands over his pectorals until he grabbed her wrists and forcefully pushed her away.

"No! No, Dru, no playing tonight. Not right now." He glanced at Buffy. She seemed thoroughly puzzled by the scene that had played out before her. "S'all right, luv. Dru is just a little touched in the head is all."

"I fear I'll float away in a bubble, and no one will save me." Buffy noticed that Drusilla was now staring into the middle of the tub.

Spike shrugged, "Case in point." He gestured towards the glass in her hand, "You through, pet? Want me to take that?"

"Oh, no, I got it." But she didn't have it. The alcohol in her system had set her depth perception slightly askew. As she twisted around to place the glass on the deck, she managed to both tip it and set it down much harder than she intended. This resulted in chipping the side, and this resulted in an abrasion on her index finger. Thinned by the alcohol, her blood immediately pooled at the surface.

"Ouchie, I am such a klutz! Sorry about your glass!"

There was deathly silence.

Buffy placed her bleeding finger in her mouth and glanced around. The group was regarding her with indecipherable expressions. Well, except for Dru, and she had that eager look on her face again—as such, she was the first to react.

"Come on, dearie. Let's get that cleaned up. Wouldn't want it to get infected, now would we?" She started to rise out of the tub, beckoning for Buffy to do the same, when Spike grabbed her arm.

"No! No, Dru, it's my home. I think I should see to my guests' injuries." Turning towards Buffy, "Come with me, kitten, there are some basic medical supplies in the pool house."

He lifted himself out of the tub then reached down to assist Buffy. Placing a hand on the small of her back, he led her across the darkened patio to the pool house. It was obvious the effect the alcohol had on her system by her weaving gait.

After they entered the building, Buffy stood awkwardly in the small sitting room, waiting for Spike to gather supplies. She continued to suck the blood from her wound, leaving a coppery tang in her mouth.

Buffy's cheeks burned when Spike returned to the room. Through the thin fabric of his swim trunks, it was clear that he was entirely erect. Obviously, he had to know, but he seemed to pay it no mind as he directed Buffy to be seated on a small sofa. He sat down beside her, knees bumping her own. Her heart sped up. She noticed him smirking as if he could tell the effect he was having on her.

"Gonna have to take your finger out of your mouth, pet."

Buffy nodded and slid the digit out. Spike had a strange expression on his face.

"You've got..." he waived a finger in front of his bottom lip.

"Huh?"

"You've got a little..." he pointed to her lip.

"Oh!" She darted her tongue out to lick the remaining drops of blood from her lip.

As she did, she could've sworn that—for just a moment—Spike's eyes flashed a color very unlike his usual deep blue.

He gently took her hand in his and proceeded to meticulously disinfect her wound, taking care to cause her as little pain as possible. Buffy felt he was treating her almost as if she was fragile. Despite the obvious evidence of his arousal threatening to burst through the fabric of his trunks, she had a gut feeling that he was a good man—but her instincts had led her astray before.

He spread a generous amount of ointment on the injury and wrapped it with a small bandage before bringing her finger to his lips for a lingering kiss. He smiled at her adorable pink-tinged cheeks. Still holding her hand, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Now...what will you do for me?"

Buffy shook her head, coming out of her Spike-induced daze. "Huh? What will I do for you?" She furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Yeah."

"I—I don't understand."

Spike rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "It's simple, pet. I fixed your finger. Now, what will you do for me?"

Chapter Four:

"I-I-I don't...umm..." Buffy suddenly felt extremely awkward. This wasn't at all how she expected the evening to go. Sure, the drive had been...a little creepy, but she thought when she arrived at the house, she would regain some sense of normalcy. Yet, it seemed the night was destined to go in a less conventional direction. She slowly shook her head. "I don't know what you want from me."

Spike smiled reassuringly, still gently caressing her hand with his thumb, "What I want from you and what you're willing to give me are two entirely separate things."

She took a breath. "I don't know. This has just...this has been the weirdest night ever. That story about the club was...and-and something about puppies and fire extinguishers...and you've been all with the silence all night...and I think maybe your friends don't like me and now—"

"Luv, you're babbling." He raised an eyebrow. "Now what's this about my...friends?"

She bit her lip and glanced around the room as if looking for an answer before finally meeting his eyes. "It's just...they seem...a little bit...condescending maybe?"

Spike chuckled, "Oh, kitten, they're always that way. It's not just you. Don't let them get to you."

Buffy sighed, "I just don't understand why you wanted me to come here. I'm not like any of you. I don't fit in." She stared at her lap, wishing she was wearing a bit more than the thin green swimsuit.

"On the contrary, I think you'll fit in quite nicely. You just need some more time to...adjust." He used his free hand to place a finger under her chin and force her to meet his eyes. "Please, pet, spend some more time with us. Spend some more time with me." He looked at her beseechingly.

It just wasn't fair. How could she resist those eyes, those lips. "O-okay...sure." She really didn't understand why he was so insistent that she be involved in his life, and she certainly didn't understand why she was going along with it. They really didn't know each other at all.

He smiled warmly at her before tightening his grip on her hand. With one swift jerk, she was seated in his lap, his erection pressing against her bottom. She squealed at the sudden action. He wrapped his arms around her body, cradling her back, and tangling one hand in her hair. "Now, there's that matter of repayment." He didn't allow her time to think. His lips covered hers as he forced her head to stay steady despite the intensity of his kisses, his hand gripping her hair to an almost painful extent.

She felt his tongue begging entrance, and before she knew it, she had parted her lips and welcomed his cool appendage into her mouth. She could taste the sweet wine and the last hints of her blood mixing with their saliva. Spike was already behaving more aggressively than any man she'd encountered before, and yet the deepening of their kiss seemed to trigger even greater intensity. Soon, faster than she thought possible, she found herself pinned beneath him on the hard floor of the pool house.

She was having that feeling again—like she was drowning—like she couldn't breathe. Why was this all happening so fast? Everything seemed to be spinning as she stared at the ceiling of the pool house while Spike moved his mouth against her shoulder and her neck, licking and sucking her sensitive skin. She could feel his hard length pressed against her center. She moaned helplessly as he rocked his hips, stimulating her swollen clit through two thin layers of fabric. It all seemed so unreal. These things didn't happen to her. And then—"Oh!" Buffy pushed at Spike's shoulders, and when he didn't stop his assault, she hollered in his ear, "Get off!" He stilled and raised his head.

"What's wrong, luv?" he asked with a puzzled expression.

"What's wrong?" she repeated, wide-eyed. "You bit me!"

"Oi! Did not!" He pushed himself off of her and leaned against the sofa.

"Oh yes, you most certainly did," she began as she sat up, "and if I could ever find a mirror in this place, I bet I'd see teeth marks." She crossed her arms. "You totally bit me."

Spike scowled, "Was just a little! Not like I broke the skin or anything. It didn't hurt, did it?"

Buffy blushed. "Well, I mean I felt it. Just no guy has ever bitten me before...I-I-I didn't expect it."

He smirked, "Sounds like you've been spending your time with some rather boring blokes, pet."

"Hey! They're just...nice guys." She rolled her eyes. "They don't go accosting strange girls in pool houses."

He cocked an eyebrow, "You're a strange girl, luv?"

Buffy shot him a look. "I'm a stranger to you. You barely know me."

"And I'd like to fix that." He reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. "I'm trying to fix that."

She shook her head and sighed. "You certainly have a very hands on approach." Spike opened his mouth to reply, but Buffy spoke first. "We should get back out there before they decide I'm some sort of crazed lunatic here to kill you and steal your fortune."

He smiled. "All right then." He stood and offered her his hand, pulling her off the floor. "You do realize, that those three are going to have it in their heads that I've pretty well been shagging you six ways to Sunday since we've been in here."

Buffy's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh my god! Are you serious!"

Spike chuckled lightly, "It's no big deal, luv. I just wanted to warn you, in case they say anything."

Buffy felt her cheeks burning. "Oh god, this is so embarrassing. They just met me!" She pointed at Spike, "And YOU! I can't believe you!"

Spike regarded her with amused curiosity. "Afraid you're going to have to elaborate, pet."

She let out a frustrated sigh. "What was with that whole 'what I want is separate from what you're willing to give' thing if you were just going to take what you wanted regardless!" She crossed her arms and awaited his answer.

Spike was extremely intrigued by this more assertive side of Buffy. His lips twitched when he noticed her little foot tapping away on the floor. "Well, luv, I never said I was a patient man...and I never said you had to be willing."

Buffy's mouth flew open, "What?!" Spike just continued to smile at her with that sly little smirk of his, and she let out a breath. He's joking. Of course, he's joking. "Ha ha, very funny. Let's get back out there, so my mortification can be complete."

He pulled the door open and gestured for her to walk through, "After you, pet."

Once again, going from the well-lit pool house to the dimly lit patio left Buffy nearly blind as they weaved their way back to the hot tub. She was thankful that she had Spike there to guide her. Clearly, he was quite familiar with the layout as he had no problem getting around in the dark.

"Oh!" Buffy cried when a figure stepped out from behind a stone pillar. She tried to back up, but only succeeded in slamming into Spike's solid chest.

"Sorry, Miss Summers, I didn't mean to frighten you." Buffy let out a sigh of relief at Fred's soft voice. "Mr. Blackwell, you have a call from..." She glanced at Buffy, "...you have a call, and he says it's an urgent business matter."

Spike nodded. "All right, thanks, Fred." She gave a quick nod and hurried back towards the house. Spike regarded Buffy, "You'll be fine for a bit, pet, if I take this call, yeah?"

Buffy's eyes widened at the prospect of being left alone with the other three. "Oh...I guess...I mean, she said it was urgent..."

He gently gripped her shoulders, forcing her to face him. Meeting her eyes in the dim light, "It's like I said, just don't let them get to you. They know there will be hell to pay if they go too far, luv." Buffy felt a chill go down her spine as the possibilities of what going too far could entail flew through her mind. "You'll be fine, yeah?"

Buffy gave him a shaky nod, "Okay, yeah...I won't let them get to me."

Spike leaned in and kissed her forehead. "That's a girl. Promise I'll be right back. You need me to help you the rest of the way to the tub?"

"No...no...it's okay...my eyes are pretty well adjusted now...just go take your call." With one final smile and nod, Spike left Buffy alone on the patio. She entertained the possibility of staying right where he left her until he returned but decided that she was just being silly. She could handle that wacky bunch in the hot tub. It was time she broadened her horizons. That thought in mind, she straightened her back and continued across the patio.

As she approached the tub, she was somewhat surprised by what she saw. Angel and Darla were in the midst of a heated lip-lock. Buffy had not picked up on the fact that they were a couple. Frankly, after the Daddy comment, she thought Angel might have something going on with Drusilla—but Dru was nowhere to be seen.

Buffy was unsure of how to proceed. She didn't want to interrupt, but at the same time, they had to expect her to return to the hot tub at some point...and they were just kissing. She and Spike had done worse on the pool house floor. She took a step closer to the tub and had to stifle a gasp. Drusilla was there.

Buffy's cheeks burned as she couldn't help but think that her horizons were certainly being broadened tonight. As Angel and Darla continued to entwine their tongues, Dru's head was bobbing enthusiastically up and down on Angel's mostly submerged cock. Part of Buffy couldn't help but be impressed. It had to be incredibly difficult for her to breathe, what with spending so much time underwater.

Buffy could feel her heart pounding—from embarrassment and from shock. Obviously, she couldn't stay. They couldn't possibly want her to witness something so intimate. Clearly, they would be horrified themselves if they realized she was standing there gawking at them. No, she had to get out of there...and fast.

As quietly as she could, she weaved her way back to the pool house. She changed her clothes in record time and threw her bag over her shoulder. She needed to put some distance between herself and the scene that was now burned into her brain. Slipping out of the pool house, she crossed the patio and entered the house through the glass doors she had used before.

She wondered if there would be a driver available. She wanted to ask Spike or Fred but didn't feel comfortable exploring the house in search of them. She made her way back to the foyer following the path Fred had taken her on when she arrived. She was about to check the front drive for a car and driver when she heard footsteps approaching.

"Buffy?" The confusion was evident in Spike's voice. "Are you leaving? Is everything all right?"

She turned to face him, chewing on her lip for a moment before replying, "yeah, I just...something came up. I really need to go...like now."

He furrowed his brow. "Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear that." He tilted his head and regarded her curiously for a moment. "Would you like to come over for dinner...just the two of us? Sunday perhaps?"

Though she found the man to be extremely intriguing, Buffy was finding that it was seeming like an increasingly unwise idea to get mixed up with him and his associates. Something just felt...off about them. Him included, if she was honest with herself. Still, as if she was helpless to answer any other way, she responded, "Sure, that sounds great."

"Wonderful." He graced her with a brilliant smile. "I'll have a car pick you up around 7pm." At her nod, he continued, "Well, sweetheart, there should be a driver waiting out front for you, if you really must go."

She took a breath and nodded again, "Yeah, I really need to get home. It's late and all."

"All right," he reached a hand out and lightly trailed it down her hair, "I'll walk you out, luv."

He pulled open the front door and placed a hand on her lower back, guiding her out to the front steps. Sure enough, the car and driver were still in the same place she had been dropped off at. Spike guided her down the stairs to the back door of the vehicle. Buffy expected the driver to jump out to greet them, but she noted some sort of wordless exchange occur between him and Spike, and he remained in place behind the wheel.

Buffy faced Spike and began fiddling with her bag. What do you say to a man after an evening like that? After a moment, she had settled on a simple 'thank you for inviting me to your home.' It seemed like the safest option at that point, but she only got as far as opening her mouth before Spike had his lips on hers. Surprisingly, he kept the kiss light, and it was over almost as soon it began. Afterwards, he kept his head bowed close to hers.

"Thank you for coming out tonight, luv," he murmured as he rubbed his hands up and down her arms. "Sorry about the others. I had hoped they'd be a little more well-behaved."

"It's fine, Spike. I'm just—I'm just glad that it will just be you and me on Sunday." She took a breath. "I really should go."

Spike nodded and pulled the car door open as he moved away from her. "Until Sunday, luv."

She smiled as she seated herself in the limo. As soon as the door was shut, the car was in motion. Buffy was on her way home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Spike stormed across the patio, stopping when he reached the hot tub, currently occupied by his three smirking friends. Clearly, they were unsurprised by his demeanor.

Clenching his fists, he glared into the tub, "Does anyone here care to tell me anything about that girl's abrupt departure?"

Angel rolled his eyes, "Relax, Willy, we were just having a little bit of fun. You're not gonna lose your girl."

"Dammit, Angelus," Spike spat out, barely containing his fury, "I'm warning you. You will not ruin this for me—not again."

Chapter Five:

"Spike, I'd really like to get to know you, but can we...never hang out with your friends again." No, that won't work.

"Spike, did you know your friends were depraved sex maniacs?" No...and frankly, he was acting a little hinky himself, but he's not like them, right?

"Spike, I really enjoy spending time alone with you." But what if I don't. He barely spoke last night...and there was that whole jumping me in the pool house thing...that wasn't so bad. Maybe I'm losing my mind. I've got to talk to Wills.

With an exasperated sigh, Buffy rolled out of bed. Why did she agree to meet with him again? At least she had until the following evening to call him and tell him she'd changed her mind. She just met the man, yet it seemed like she would just dumbly agree to anything he asked of her. With another sigh, she wandered over to her dresser for a change of clothes.

As she reached to open a drawer, she caught her reflection in the mirror. "Oh...my...god." Buffy was horrified. How would she ever explain this. Spike had completely mauled her neck. It was a mosaic of black and blue bruises. How she climbed into bed last night without noticing the extensive damage to her sensitive skin, she didn't know. It was downright macabre.

Wearing a turtleneck really wasn't an option with the weather being so warm. No, she would just have to cover it with concealer as much as possible and spend the day hiding from her parents. She forgot about changing clothes for the moment and padded back to her bed. Picking up her phone from her bedside table, she dialed a familiar number.

"Hellooo."

"Hey, Willow, it's me."

"Buffy! Oh my god! Did you go to that guy's house? What was it like? Was he as hot as you remembered?"

Buffy snickered, "Slow down, Wills. Yeah, I went to his house last night...met some of his friends."

"Ooooh...was it fun? My dad says William Blackwell has the biggest house in the area...there are rumors that he has a dungeon..."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Yes, his house is totally huge, and yeah the guy seems a little eccentric....but a dungeon? That's just ridiculous. To answer your first question, I don't know if I'd classify the evening as fun. That's actually...uh...why I'm calling."

"Oh? Did something happen? Oh my god, he didn't try to do anything to you, did he?"

"No...I mean...god Willow. His friends...they're kind of snotty, and they have this really sick sense of humor, and...." She just couldn't bring herself to tell Willow that she'd unwittingly been privy to some sort of live sex show. "I don't know...I wasn't there for them, ya know? I just wanted to spend some more time with William...or Spike...whatever he wants to call himself. It was just sort of a stupid experiment...I thought it would be nice not to be boring Buffy for once."

"You're not boring, Buffy! You're just...reserved. So, you didn't like his friends. No biggie. It's not like you're planning on spending the rest of your life with the man or anything. You like him, right?"

"Yes...no...yes, I think I like him. I just know that he affects me. I feel like he's a mystery, and I'll go crazy if I don't solve it. God, maybe I'm already going crazy." She sighed softly, "I almost slept with him, Willow...right there on his pool house floor."

"Oh my god," Willow began in a hushed tone, "that's so..."

"Not me. I know."

Willow's voice was hesitant, "He didn't try to force you..."

"Of course not! Do you really think I'd be this calm if he did? He was pushy all right, but I was...I was going along with it...until he bit me."

"He bit you?"

"Yeah...it startled me. I guess it wasn't...bad. My neck's a mess, though."

"Wow...that's sooo neat."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Getting your inner freak on, Willow."

"Buffy! It's just...every day has pretty much been the same for us for awhile, and now you suddenly have gorgeous, rich men biting you! No one ever bites me."

Buffy laughed softly to herself, "I'm sure you'll find your own biter some day, Wills." She let out a breath, "He wants to see me again. Alone."

Willow giggled, "He must have found you pretty tasty. So...are you going to see him?"

"I told him I would...do you...do you think I should?"

"Well, if you're curious and he's not dangerous or anything, then I don't see why not."

"I'm pretty sure the whole tri-state area would know if William Blackwell was a danger to society. I don't think the man keeps an extremely low profile."

"Well, my only advice is to be careful and have fun...oh, and use protection!"

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Whatever, Wills."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I want you three out before she gets here tomorrow. I mean it, Angel, you're not coming anywhere near this house tomorrow night."

Angel continued to recline casually against Spike's large mahogany desk. "Relax, Willy, you worry too much."

Spike scoffed, "I'm lucky she's coming back at all. You three couldn't even behave decently for one evening."

Angel clucked his tongue, "Do you hear yourself? God, man, what have you turned into? It's pathetic. This whole thing is pathetic.

"Shut it, Liam," Spike snarled from his place behind the desk.

Angel simply smirked and continued, "Really, Spike, this whole plan you've concocted is completely absurd. Do you really think it's ever going to work? You think you're going to get what you want? Have you already forgotten how miserably you failed last time?"

Spike gritted his teeth, "It didn't work last time because of you, you bloody pillock!" He roughly pushed his chair back from the desk and stood. "You just couldn't stand the fact that maybe I wanted something different, something better."

Angel snorted loudly, "Better, Spike? What could be better than what you already have? You're such a poor sap, and you can't accept the fact that's it's not my fault your plans fell through. Face it, man, you got played."

Spike's fist crashed down on the surface of the desk. "Fuck off, Angel! Just stay the fuck out of my business this time and leave Buffy alone."

Angel pushed off the desk and shook his head. "Temper, temper, Spike. Seems to me, this girl is already tearing the family apart." He placed his palms on the desk and leaned in, speaking in a low voice, "If she becomes a threat, I will be forced to take matters into my own hands." He straightened up and backed away. "Control yourself and control your girl, and we won't have any problems." He smiled, "Don't worry, my boy, your family will be there to pick up the pieces when this ridiculous experiment fails."

Spike watched Angel saunter out of the study. It was everything he could do not to hurl a book at his retreating back. God, why did he have to be so insufferable? Spike scowled as he dropped back into his desk chair. No matter what Angel thought, he would get what he wanted this time...at any cost.

Chapter Six:

Just as Spike had said, a car showed up at her house at 7pm on the dot on Sunday evening. Despite Willow's encouragement, Buffy had picked up the phone numerous times in the last day with the intent of calling the night off. She just couldn't bring herself to do it, though. Simply put, her curiosity won out.

Now, she was once again making the journey to Spike's estate. It was dark out, and she wondered if she would ever get the chance to make a daytime trip, so she'd be able to check out the scenery on the way.

She heard rumbling thunder in the distance. It did nothing to abate the ominous feelings she had once again when they pulled off of the main road, driving slowly into the dark woods.

By the time they emerged from the trees and made their way onto Spike's front drive, the previously insignificant sprinkle had become a torrential downpour. The driver pulled in close to the steps leading up to the front of the house. Through the rain, Buffy could make out a blurry figure approaching the car. Soon, the door was opened, and Fred stood before her, umbrella in hand.

"Come on, Miss. Let's get you inside. They say this storm is only going to get worse tonight." She reached out a hand that Buffy took gingerly as she slid out of the car. Together, the two women hurried up the steps and into the house, escaping the cool rain.

"Mr. Blackwell is waiting for you in the sitting room, Miss Summers. You should go there now." She gestured in the direction of a room Buffy had seen briefly during her previous visit to the estate.

Seeing that Fred did not intend to walk with her, Buffy tentatively made her way to the open doorway leading into the sitting room. As she walked into the room, she immediately noticed Spike sitting casually in the middle of a large black leather sofa. His arms were stretched out to either side of his body along the back of the furniture.

Buffy noticed that he was wearing jeans and a dark blue t-shirt that made his eyes appear even brighter. His feet were bare. She suddenly felt a bit over-dressed in her coffee-colored sundress. Though, from the appreciative looks Spike was sending her way, she took it that he approved of her outfit.

He smiled warmly, "Take a seat, luv."

She glanced at Spike's arms stretched along the back of the couch and opted to sit in one of the large chairs located across from him.

He tilted his head, "Not going to sit next to me, pet? Afraid that I'll bite?"

Buffy surprised herself by snapping back, "I know you will!"

Spike simply chuckled at her outburst, "I don't think you'd mind too much."

"Whatever..." Buffy mumbled, "Can we...talk about something else?" She shifted uncomfortably.

"Of course, kitten." He raked his eyes over her form. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look this evening? Absolutely edible."

Buffy's eyebrows shot up. "I'd really rather you not refer to me as edible after what you did to my neck." She gestured at the fading bruises still marring her golden skin. "I had to convince my parents that it was some sort of bizarre rash."

He rolled his eyes, "You're a grown woman. Does it really matter what they think?"

"Spike..." she let out a frustrated sigh, "I don't want them thinking their daughter just gives it up to complete strangers. Maybe you don't care what anyone thinks, but I do."

He stared at her intently for a moment before speaking. "Are you hungry?"

"Huh?" Buffy hadn't expected him to change gears just like that.

"Are you hungry?" he repeated. "Dinner should be served shortly. Why don't I show you to the dining room." He stood up and held out his hand. For a moment, Buffy considered batting it away, then she realized how terribly rude that would be. The man might be a bit forward at times, but she did agree to come to his house. It really wouldn't be proper to be so impolite to her host.

She laid her hand in his and stood. He made no moves to release her as he led her through a few dark rooms into a large dining area. There was a long rectangular table in the center of the room. Buffy noticed two sets of silverware at one end. One was at the head of the table and the other was very close by on the side of the table.

Spike moved to the seat at the side. Pulling the chair back, he beckoned for her to sit down. Once she was seated, he placed himself at the head of the table.

Buffy was startled when, as if by magic, a middle-aged blonde woman appeared carrying a tray of food. She tried to cover her look of surprise by smiling pleasantly at the strange woman but was met by a suspicious glare. Her smile immediately faded. Hmmph. What did I do?

The woman placed the tray on the table and busied herself removing various food items as well as two long-stemmed glasses and a bottle of wine. She had yet to speak a word.

"Buffy..." Buffy turned her head from the woman and met Spike's deep blue eyes, "Buffy, this is Maggie. She's my cook. I think you'll find she does an amazing job." Buffy was shocked to see the cold woman raise her head and actually bat her eyelashes at Spike.

"Oh, Mr. Blackwell, you're too sweet," she positively cooed at the man. Buffy felt the sudden compulsion to stick her finger in her mouth and making gagging noises. Somehow, she held back.

"Well, I can't help but be sweet after I've feasted on some of your delicious cuisine." Buffy rolled her eyes. Gag. "Maggie, I'm being terribly rude. You haven't met Buffy yet."

Maggie's eyes narrowed as she regarded the young woman next to Spike, "No," she said, her voice laced with false sincerity, "I haven't had that pleasure."

Spike continued on, seemingly oblivious to the woman's animosity towards his guest, "Buffy lives in Sunnydale, but I'm hoping she'll be spending a lot more time here."

"That's...nice," Maggie murmured with a tight smile. She finished emptying the tray and backed away from the table. Clearly addressing only Spike, she evenly stated, "If you need anything else, let me know."

Spike waved her off, "I think we'll be fine. Thank you, Maggie."

The blonde woman nodded before exiting through a door at the side of the room.

Buffy snorted, "Well, she's a big ball of fun."

Spike glanced at her curiously, "What are you talking about, pet?"

She stared at him incredulously, "You have got to be kidding me. That woman clearly hates me!" She shook her head in annoyance.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Now, pet, don't you think you're being a bit over-dramatic?"

"No! Did you not see the way she looked at me?" Buffy leaned back in her chair and pouted, "If you hadn't been here, she would have like eaten my spleen or something."

Spike cocked an eyebrow, "Spleen, pet?"

She let out a frustrated sigh, "I don't know...it just made me uncomfortable. I—" She was cut off by a huge clap of thunder. The lights flickered for a moment. Staring wide-eyed at Spike, she squeaked, "Does your...power go out much around here?"

He shrugged as he cut off a piece of his extremely rare steak, "Sometimes." Popping the meat into his mouth, "Why? You scared of the dark, luv?"

"Umm...no..." Buffy mumbled as she took a cue from Spike and began eating her meal.

The two ate quietly for several minutes, the silence only being broken for a bit of superficial small talk. Spike noticed that Buffy wasn't touching her glass of wine.

He gave her a sideways glance, "Not drinking tonight, pet?"

"Mmmm...no..." She glanced up from her plate and gave him a pointed look, "I told you I don't drink much. Last time I drank I ended up cutting myself and getting attacked by a horny blond man."

Spike raised his eyebrows. This girl was speaking her mind more and more, and he had to admit, he loved it. It just made her that much more attractive. Though he had known from the moment their eyes met at that ball, that she would be perfect for...well, just that she'd be perfect.

"Yes, well, I don't think you minded being attacked, but that's neither here nor there." Opting to change the subject, he continued, "So, your mum owns an art gallery, is that right?"

"Yeah, she does..." Buffy wrinkled her forehead. "We haven't talked about my mother...how did you know that?"

Spike shrugged nonchalantly, "I pick up things here and there."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

He let out an exaggerated sigh, "Fine...so, I might have checked up on you a bit after I met you at the ball."

She pursed her lips, "I see."

"It's not a big deal, pet. You can't fault me for wanting to know more about the person I invited to my home."

Buffy chewed on the inside of her mouth. He was right, of course. She'd want to know a bit more about someone before they entered her personal space.

She forced a smile, "No, that makes sense. So....my mom...yeah, she inherited the gallery from my grandma."

"Well, I just thought that you might be interested in looking at some of my paintings upstairs."

"Oh...what do you have?" She tried not to appear as interested as she really was, but she'd never checked out a ridiculously rich man's art collection before.

"Well..." he thought for a moment, "I have a few Seurat...some Waterhouse..." he trailed off, "really, pet, you should just come upstairs and see for yourself. I actually have a fairly extensive collection in the library, as well as several lining the main corridor."

"Oh..." she paused, "upstairs? Yeah...sure..."

"Excellent," he glanced down at her plate, "You finished, luv? We can head up whenever you're ready."

"Oh...uh...yeah."

"Great...come on then." He pushed back his chair and stood. Buffy did the same and was only slightly surprised when he took her hand again.

He nodded at their joined hands. "You don't mind, pet?"

She shook her head, "No...it's fine."

He smiled and began leading her through the house to a large staircase. He tugged her up the stairs and into a long, dim corridor.

He nodded towards the wall, "As you can see, some of my collection is out here. The lighting's not the best, so I keep my more...interesting works in the library." He led her to a set of thick, wooden double doors about halfway down the hall. Opening only one side, he gestured for her to walk through ahead of him.

She gasped when she entered the room. It was enormous. There must have been thousands of books on the many shelves throughout the room. And she noted that almost every spot on the wall not covered by a shelf was displaying a painting. A large black sofa not unlike the one downstairs and several leather armchairs were situated near the center of the room.

She turned to Spike with a genuine smile on her face, "This is amazing. I would kill to have a room like this at my house."

He chuckled softly, "Well, no need to do that, pet. You're welcome in here any time you like." He grasped her hand again, pleased when she immediately laced her fingers with his. He gestured towards the wall with his chin. "Let's see what I've got."

For the next hour, the pair examined and engaged in discussion regarding the many paintings on the library walls. Buffy was surprised by the wide variety in styles Spike had displayed. When she commented on it to Spike, he simply shrugged and stated that 'he liked what he liked.'

Finally, he led her to an odd room off to the side of the library. It was no larger than a walk-in closet. "My special collection," he explained.

Within the small room, there was barely an inch of wall uncovered by a work of art. The paintings were strange...apparently abstract.

Spike smiled at Buffy's confused expression. "You have to look at them for a bit to make out the image."

"Hmm..." she released Spike's hand and leaned in close to one of the paintings. There was a lot of a fleshy pinkish color in this one. Looks like hair too...maybe an eye. "I think it's a person." She frowned at the painting, "Maybe two people...but one of them is upside down...and their faces are pressed against each other's...oh my god!" Her eyes widened and her cheeks burned. "Spike," she hissed, "that's a painting of two people...they're..."

Spike smiled at her innocently, "They're what, kitten?"

She opened and closed her mouth. Maybe she was interpreting the painting all wrong, but it looked like... "Spike, they're...they're pleasuring each other."

His expression was thoughtful, "Hmm...you don't say?"

She blinked up at him, "I do say!" She noticed his lips twitching and her mouth dropped open, "You jerk! You know exactly what this painting is." She glanced around the room and noticed that the same flesh tone appeared in nearly all of the paintings. "Oh my god! Are these all paintings of people engaged in...you know?"

"Well..."

That was all the answer she needed. She lightly pushed him aside and quickly walked back into the library. Spike trailed after her.

"Come on, pet, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Sexual intimacy is a beautiful thing."

"Spike! I've known you less than a week. Can we not discuss this right now? God," she huffed.

He rolled his eyes, "Come now, you can frolic with me in the pool house, but you can't handle a couple of pink blobs shagging on a piece of canvas?"

"I'm not discussing this, Spike! Look, I appreciate you inviting me, but maybe I should go home."

Spike's calm demeanor was cracked by a sudden look of alarm on his face, "No! You can't leave yet. At least, wait until the storm is over."

She crossed her arms and gave him an exasperated look, "It's just a little rain, Spike. It not so ba—" She was interrupted by another booming clap of thunder. Before she could continue, the room was plunged into darkness. She was embarrassed when she realized that the scream she heard was her own.

"It's all right, luv." His voice was smooth in the pitch-black room.

"I kn-know that," Buffy mumbled, her voice shaking uncontrollably. A moment of silence passed. She jumped when she suddenly felt cool arms sliding around her body. "Wh-what are you doing?" she stuttered nervously as the arms fully embraced her.

Spike ignored her question and tightened his hold on her. He could feel her body beginning to relax against him. He spoke in a hushed voice, "You are scared of the dark, aren't you, luv? Your heart's beating so fast." He planted a soft kiss on the top of her head.

She buried her face in his chest. It felt so good to be held right at the moment...safe from the storm raging outside. She couldn't even remember why she wanted to leave only a moment before. She nuzzled her face against the soft cotton of his t-shirt. It really wasn't all that bad being in the dark...

Chapter Seven:

“Luv…?

“Mrrph…” was Buffy’s muffled reply against Spike’s chest, where her face had taken up residence when they’d been plunged into darkness by the ferocity of the storm.

“Luv…the lights are back on. I’d be more than happy to have you stay right where you are, but I figured I should let you know as you’ve questioned my…hands on approach with you multiple times at this point.”

“Hmm?” Buffy furrowed her brow against Spike’s shirt before lifting her head and regarding him with wide eyes. “Oh! Oh…sorry…the st-storm…it was…I mean…dark…”

Spike smirked at the blonde girl who was no longer pressed tightly against him but was still in his arms all the same. “I think you’re trying to say you were a bit startled by our sudden black-out, pet.”

“Yes…” Buffy pushed away from the slim man and crossed her arms across her chest. A bit more forcefully, she nodded and replied, “Yes, sometimes I’m just a little jumpy, that’s all…I mean with the storm…and being in an unfamiliar place…those paintings…”

Grinning widely, Spike looked at her questioningly, “You’d like to see some more of my collection, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buffy muttered not thinking, “I mean no! No…no more of your…collections. I think I’ve had all I can handle for the night.”

He shrugged at that. “Fair enough, luv, but I’ve quite a few more intriguing works here and there throughout the house.”

Buffy snorted, “I’m sure you do, but I think your taste runs a bit…more exotic than mine.”

Spike smiled and murmured, “I’d love to introduce you to a few more of my tastes, pet,” he continued before Buffy could verbalize the response clearly on her lips, “but that will be for another time.”

Buffy bit her lip and stammered, “I-I don’t really know if there should be another time, Mr. Blackwell.”

Spike looked amused. “Back to Mr. Blackwell, are we?” He laughed softly and ran his fingers lightly down her shoulder. She couldn’t help the slight shudder from his gentle touch. “There will be another time Ms. Summers. However, for now, I think you should be heading on your way while the storm seems to have abated for the moment.”

“Yeah…that would be good…definitely of the good. And I totally haven’t agreed to come back or anything, just so you know.” She pursed her lips and crossed her arms more tightly against her body.

Spike chuckled, “Of course not, pet.” He smiled as he gestured for her to follow and led her down the corridor and descended the stairs.

Buffy was surprised to see a driver already waiting by the front door, but she guessed a man like William Blackwell could have whoever he wanted at his beck and call. Well, except her, of course. She’d never give into his so-called power…or charisma…or deep blue eyes…or chiseled abs…

Buffy furrowed her brow as she mentally slapped her head trying to remember what she’d been thinking in the first place. Oh yeah, driver…car…heading home.

She turned towards Spike, unsure of what to say. This seemed to be a common theme when she was in his presence. While she was pondering her options, he took one of her hands in his and pressed a gentle kiss to her palm.

“Thank you for coming out tonight, luv. Sorry for the storm, but the weather is one thing I can’t control.” That fairly innocuous statement still sent a shiver through Buffy’s body as she realized that he really could control most everything else…or so it seemed.

She felt determined to not fall under the scope of his power. Though, there was something a bit intriguing…a bit erotic, even though she blushed at the thought…of being under the control of such an enigmatic and powerful man. Shaking her head to chase away the thought, she attempted a small smile. Her time with Spike might be getting increasingly odd, but he was still her host, and she was brought up to be gracious.

“Thank you for inviting me. Tell Maggie that the meal was delicious. And thank you for showing me your…art.” She nodded to herself, yep, that sounded fairly diplomatic.

Spike turned towards the driver, “I imagine the roads are slick, please take care as you’ll be transporting precious cargo.”

Buffy truly couldn’t decide how to take that. It sounded sweet in a way, but a bit odd to refer to a human-being as cargo. She decided to just let it go. The driver opened the front door and she began to walk through, pausing for just a second when she heard Spike’s murmured, “See you soon…”

She continued down the stairs in front of the house and slipped inside the limo in the front drive after the driver, which she had begun to think of as random driver number two, opened the door for her. She wondered what would happen if she ever opened the door herself. She giggled thinking that the driver would probably scream in terror, afraid that he would be punished in Spike’s dungeon. Buffy rolled her eyes at the thought. Funny how people start the silliest rumors. Like a respectful businessman has whips and chains and who knows what else just laying about in his basement. She scoffed. People just love a scandal, even if it’s obviously false.

The ride home was fairly uneventful. The driver drove a bit slower than necessary. Had to keep his cargo safe afterall. She noted he didn’t pull out of her front drive until she was safely walking through her front door. She couldn’t really decide if it made her feel safe or just strangely…watched.

She shook her head and turned to head up the stairs to her bedroom. As she did, she collided with a large body.

“Dad! You scared me! I thought you’d be asleep by now. Aren’t you meeting with a potential investor in the morning?”

Her father looked weary, “Looks like this one is gonna fall through, sweetie. Have to find someone else.”

“What’s the product this time, dad, stick-proof coasters…hammocks for dogs…mirrors that take off ten pounds? Heh, could use a few of those around Spike’s place. I was checking my makeup by my reflection on a spoon tonight.”

Hank suddenly looked eager, “So, how are things going with Mr. Blackwell. I hear his estate is incredible…I was thinking—”

“No, dad,” Buffy interrupted, “I’m not talking the man into investing in any of your crazy schemes. I don’t even know if I’m going to see him again.”

Buffy was startled by the look of alarm on her father’s face. “Baby! It’s important that we have ties to people like Mr. Blackwell.”

She sighed, “Why is it so important, dad? I mean really?”

Hank gave his daughter a forlorn look, “I hadn’t wanted to tell you this, sweetheart, but we can’t hold onto the house much longer. Your mother just isn’t pulling enough in at the gallery.”

“What?!” Buffy exclaimed, “I knew things weren’t as good as they could be, but you didn’t tell me we could lose the house!”

He put his hands on her shoulders, “I didn’t want to worry you, baby. But you see? You have to keep seeing Mr. Blackwell…he could be the key to us getting back on our feet.”

Buffy tried to hide her look of disgust, “Dad, I can’t just use—”

“You want us to keep our home, right?” Hank spoke matter-of-factly.

Buffy shook out of his grasp, “Dad…I just…I have to think.” And with that she quickly ascended the staircase and locked herself in her bedroom. Leaning against the door, she realized that she couldn’t even begin to process the direction her night had taken.

She pushed away from her door and began undressing in front of her mirror, scoffing at the marks still visible from Spike’s nibbles in the pool house. She sighed deeply. What was she supposed to do?