Chapter Two
The phone call put Buffy in a foul mood. So much so, that, when she returned to her hotel room she didn’t put nearly as much effort into getting ready for dinner as she normally would have.
Pulling on a black skirt and pale-green top, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down. Damn Liam! She should have thrown her cell into the ocean as soon as she’d recognized his voice.
She heard the clock on the landing chime a quarter to the hour and took a final glance in the mirror, hoping that she wasn’t making a mistake in going to dinner with Spike, a man she barely knew.
The restaurant wasn’t particularly busy when she arrived, with only half of the tables occupied. She instantly spotted Spike sitting near a large bay window, his white-blond hair shining in the low-lighting. He stood up when he saw her, a nervous smile on his face.
“Your sister not joining us?” Buffy asked once she’d sat down, for she’d half-expected the girl to be there. Not that she minded the privacy.
“Not tonight,” Spike replied. “She’s asleep. Besides, I invited you to dinner with me, not me and Dru.”
Buffy blushed. “Right, sorry.” After that, the conversation was stilted, the uneasy talk of two people who didn’t know one another very well.
Spike stared at her, his eyes taking in her face and outfit, while she droned on about something inconsequential. “You look beautiful,” he said, throwing her off.
“Oh, um, thanks.”
There was silence again, the background hum of the restaurant keeping it from getting too awkward.
“Want to look at the menu?” he asked, some moments later and Buffy nodded, the movement jangling her earrings.
***
The wine flowed, and talking to him became easier. There were moments of tense quiet but they were offset by a sudden rush of familiarity, of comfort when he spoke. His eyes danced with light and happiness as they spoke, and she knew that the same feelings were reflected in her own gaze.
“So,” Buffy said, spearing a piece of chicken on her fork and fixing him with an inscrutable stare. “The name Spike. Explain.”
“It’s not a very interesting story, love,” he said, but relented when she pouted. “School disco. Put a little of my dad’s whiskey into the punch and got half of Year Nine drunk. Let me tell you, a class full of fourteen-year-olds with a hangover isn’t a pretty sight. Teach gave me a right rollicking, an’ the name just stuck after that.”
“You’re right,” she said, amusement in her voice. “That wasn’t a very interesting story.”
“Hey now!”
“What? You said it yourself. You could come up with something really awe-inspiring to tell people, you know. Like, you got attacked by a maniac with a railroad-spike, and that’s how you got the scar in your eyebrow.”
Spike raised said eyebrow. “You’re an odd one, aren’t you?”
“I try.” Buffy sipped her wine and ducked her head, surprised at how much she was enjoying herself. She’d thought the phone-call with Liam might have dulled her fun, but Spike was sexy, smart, great to talk to and she was having a really good time.
“All right, love?” he asked, a moment later. “Gone a bit pensive on me.”
“Sorry,” she said and carefully placed her fork next to her knife on her empty plate. She pushed the plate away and leaned into the table, looking for all the world like she were about to impart some great secret to him. Spike mimicked her actions, coming closer, and the air was suddenly charged with anticipation. Buffy licked her lips before she spoke. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
Spike let out a quick burst of laughter, and leaned back in his chair. “Thought you were gonna set the world to rights,” he said, then smirked. “Or at the very least give me a kiss.”
Buffy blushed.
“I dunno, really. You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Me being here for this ghost week malarkey.” He paused, and frowned, thinking. “I don’t think death is the end. I think there’s something out there. Call it a ghost, call it a spirit, there’s something. But until I see it for myself…” He trailed off. “I’m sceptical, but open-minded, I reckon.”
Buffy nodded. “I don’t believe in ghosts, but something’s been bothering me since I got here, and then with Liam’s phone call…”
“Liam?”
“My ex,” Buffy said and was inwardly thrilled at the way Spike frowned and the muscle in his cheek clenched. “He called earlier, had some dire warning about a dark energy around me. Just made me wonder, that’s all. He didn’t know I was coming on this ghost week, and it all seems a bit coincidental.”
“You stick with me, pet,” Spike said, after a while of heavy silence. “I’ll keep you safe from all the evil ghosties.”
“Oh thank you, you big, strong man you,” Buffy said, dryly. “But I think I’m more scared of Simkins, than anything else!”
Spike chuckled and raised a hand for the waiter to come collect their dishes. “You up for dessert?”
Buffy nodded, feeling more content than she had in a while and not wanting the night to end.
***
After dinner, she and Spike had stayed in the hotel bar until last orders, when he’d walked her back to her room and left her with a chaste kiss on her cheek. Buffy had been more than a little tipsy, her skin prickly and hot with attraction, but looking back now, in the cold light of day, she was glad that a kiss on the cheek was all that had happened between them.
She dressed quickly, the bubble of excitement in her stomach growing as she thought of the day ahead. Simkins had some ghostly activity planned, details of which would be shared after breakfast, but it was seeing Spike again that had Buffy eager for the day to begin.
The restaurant was busier for breakfast than it had been for dinner the night before, and Buffy spotted several of the other people on the tour dotted around the room. Her eyes were immediately drawn to Spike, however, who was sitting at the same table they’d shared the night before. Drusilla was with him this morning. Although Buffy knew she should have expected his sister to be there, she still felt slightly disappointed not to have him to herself, and more than a little unnerved by Dru’s presence.
She shook the feeling away and moved towards the table, her face lighting up when she saw how pleased Spike seemed to see her. “Morning!” she said brightly, hovering awkwardly next to the table for a moment before choosing the seat to the right of Spike rather than opposite him.
“Morning, love,” Spike said, and the warmth in his voice made her shiver.
“Hello.” Drusilla spoke loudly and clearly and with a certain curiosity to her voice. “William tells me you had a lovely dinner last night.”
“We did,” Buffy replied, meeting the girl’s wide-eyed blue gaze for the first time, then directing her next words at Spike. “I had a great time. Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”
“Great, thanks.” Buffy lied and blushed as she remembered how hard she’d found it to drop off to sleep, her mind filled with thoughts of Spike.
The set breakfast was served a few moments later: a full plate of bacon, sausage, eggs, mushrooms, baked beans, toast and something that made Buffy shudder—black pudding.
“You know,” she said, pushing the offending item to the side of her plate in distaste, “I’ve lived in England for eight years now, and I still haven’t gotten used to how gross some of your food is. Blood sausage first thing in the morning? Yuck.” She wrinkled her nose.
“S’not that bad,” Spike said. “Besides, it’s not like you Yanks don’t have your fair share of nastiness. Like… meatloaf. Is it a meat, is it a loaf? No one knows!”
“Point,” Buffy conceded, but she didn’t touch the black pudding, and at the end of the meal it was still there on her plate.
***
Simkins gathered all the members of the group in the lounge after breakfast. In addition to Buffy, Spike, Drusilla, and the three elderly women they’d met at the ferry port, there was a youngish couple with a teenage boy, two middle-aged gentlemen, and a grungy-looking, long-haired man. It was an eclectic mix.
“Osborne House,” Simkins shouted, without preamble. “Perhaps the most famous of the island’s attractions. Why, Queen Victoria herself holidayed and even died there. It’s said to be one of the most haunted places on the island—not the most haunted, of course—we’ll see that one in a couple of days’ time. Now—” He stood and clapped his hands together. “I’d like us ready to leave in half an hour, please. It’s a rather long drive up to Cowes. Sensible shoes only,” he added, eyeing the heeled boots Buffy had put on to go to breakfast. “The house is large, and the grounds larger.”
Buffy followed Spike and Drusilla back upstairs, where she excused herself to go to her room, feeling slightly put out that she’d been singled out for her choice in footwear. She pulled off the offending boots and changed into a sensible, and not at all sexy, pair of sneakers.
She busied herself with touching up her make-up and pulling a brush through her hair, and finally checked the contents of her handbag: purse, cell, keys, and all the other essential accoutrements.
Despite her reservations about the trip, she found herself quite excited about the visit to Osborne House. It would be a lie, though, if she said it was anything other than the prospect of a day out with Spike that had her most looking forward to it.
Ready at last, she locked her room and made her way downstairs.
A high-pitched wail stopped her in her tracks, and she turned towards the noise. Spike and Drusilla were half-in, half-out of the door to their suite, with Drusilla holding onto the doorframe, petulance on her face.
“I won’t go! You can’t make me!”
“Dru.” Spike’s voice was patient, but Buffy could sense his rising annoyance. “Come on.”
“No. I’m tired; I want to rest.”
“You’ve been looking forward to this holiday for ages!” Spike said. “Dragged me along, too. Stop being stupid.”
“No! I won't be the gooseberry!” Drusilla said, then laughed. “You’ll thank me later. Besides, Miss Edith and I don’t like Victoria at all. We shan’t go to her house.”
Spike sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “Fine, do what you like. Just be careful if you go out, okay? And don’t come crying to me later, when you wish you’d come on the trip.”
“Oh, I won’t go out,” Drusilla said. “You have fun! Look, there’s Buffy.”
With a wink and a smile to her brother, she retreated into her room, and left him standing in the corridor with a bewildered look on his face. He turned to see Buffy and gave her a little shrug. “She can be difficult,” he said apologetically.
Buffy had no doubt that Drusilla was, in her own way, trying to play matchmaker. She kept quiet on that matter, however, and led the way downstairs, feeling intensely thrilled when she caught Spike staring after her.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you to those who read and reviewed the first chapter. Hope you enjoy this second chapter. :)
Chapter End Notes:
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