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Author's Chapter Notes:
Here's a fairly fast update, since I'm trying to get my brain in the right mindset to work on this story. Make sure you didn't miss Ch. 5. *Thank you so much to Vette for my amazing new banner!*
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 End Notes:
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