GOING ONCE (28/?)
 

Willow sat in the passenger seat, trying not to sneak glances at Spike and
failing miserably. They had been driving for nearly half an hour, and she had
no idea where they were going. They had headed south on the freeway and were
headed towards LA. Somehow, she didn't think that could be their destination
but with Spike, who knew? He'd startled her in her living room, covering her
mouth and asking her to accept this mission. She had with a nod of her head.
He had moved his hand, telling her to run upstairs and pack a bag, that they
wouldn't be back until the next night. She had called Buffy's machine leaving
a message that she knew was breathless and vague. She hadn't known what to
tell her best friend. She also hadn't known what to pack. What did one pack
for a date of adventure? She had decided on jeans and a T-shirt, a good
standby. She had luckily remembered to pack her sleeping tank and boxers and
tossed in extra panties and a bra for the morning. When she had gone back
downstairs, Spike had the car in the driveway and was waiting for her. They
hadn't spoken, just got in and started driving.
 

She saw him turn the blinker on as he moved from the left lane to the right.
She sat up, her eyes seeing an exit sign ahead. Seashell. Some small coastal
town that she'd never been to. She sat back, wondering what adventures
Seashell held. She looked back at Spike and caught him looking at her. They
both looked away quickly, Spike watching the road while Willow looked out the
window. She watched as he turned down several different streets, obviously
knowing exactly where they were headed. She saw lights in the distance and
was surprised to see them coming upon a rather large mansion. The car
continued down the twisting road until it entered a pair of metal gates and a
driveway. She couldn't resist any longer. She asked, "Where are we?"
 

"Our adventure," he replied with a teasing smile. He was trying to get her to
talk to him again, like they had before last night. He missed her smile and
her laugh. He shouldn't have to suffer so much for making one mistake.
Kissing her and its aftermath hadn't been a mistake really, it was him losing
control that he hated. Once he had her, had claimed her, then it wouldn't so
concerning. Now, though, he couldn't risk scaring her away before he had her.
"Are you ready, pet?"
 

"Should I be worried?" she asked, trying to forget last night as easily as he
had appeared to. She looked at the large house as the car stopped and smiled,
having no idea where they were or what they were doing there.
 

"Not at all. I know the bloke that owns this place. He was able to fit us in
when I phoned the other night. Owed me a favor or two," Spike said, opening
the car door and getting out. He stretched, glad that Maurice had come
through for him. Seashell was a small town of less than fifty that lay in
between Sunnydale and LA. Trust his old friend to settle somewhere so
overlooked.
 

"What is this place? Fit us in?" Willow asked as she got out of the car and
followed Spike to the trunk to retrieve her bag. Before he could answer the
question, the door to the house opened and a man came out.
 

"William! You've made it. You naughty boy. I expected you at half past eight,
not nearly half past nine," Maurice said with a scolding finger. He looked at
Willow and his smile grew larger, "And who, pray tell, is this delightfully
sinful spitfire?"
 

"Willow, meet Maurice. Maurice, Willow," Spike said, rolling his eyes at the
demon's antics.
 

"Enchante mademoiselle," Maurice said, taking her hand and kissing it.
 

Willow had to laugh. She was standing in the driveway of a large house with a
vampire that she loved behind her and a six foot demon kissing her hand. She
ran her eyes over Maurice, noticing the normalcy of his appearance except for
the two horns on either side of his forehead and the ridges that ran over his
hands and up his arms. His eyes were purple and shining with amusement and
good will. Not at all what she had expected when she had heard Spike mention
friend.
 

Maurice saw her humor and confusion and understood, whispering in a loud
voice, "I'm the only nice friend that scamp has."
 

"You read minds, do you?" Willow asked, teasing.
 

"Your eyes are mirrors to your thoughts, my dear," he said confidentially.
 

"Are they?" she asked, curious.
 

"Only to those trained to read them," he elaborated, looking at Spike.
"Spike, my boy, I like this one. I think you should keep her."
 

"I'll take that under advisement," Spike muttered, his eyes glaring at the
still joined hands. "You can let her go now."
 

"Someone's a growly bear," Maurice said releasing Willow's hand.
 

Willow giggled, "He's always a bit growly. You get used to it after a while."
 

"You, my dear, are charming and far too good for that rascal. Come. Let me
show you my home. Let Spike carry the bags in. He's had the grand tour,"
Maurice said, looking at Spike as the blonde growled a warning. "Don't get
your willy in a knot. I have no plans of luring her into seeing my etchings
or any other naughty business. Not yet, at least. I've put you in your usual
room."
 

Willow felt the ridged arm go around her shoulders as Maurice led her into
the large house. She smiled when she heard Spike cursing behind them, looking
up and seeing Maurice's violet eyes twinkling in amusement. He knew exactly
what he was doing to the blonde and enjoyed it. Laughing, she decided that
she and Maurice were going to get along extremely well.