Visitors -- by Echo


Rating: G

Description: Willow pays a visit to someone's crypt, sequel to Blinded.

Disclaimer: All the characters in this fic belong to a Mr. Joss Whedon. I just like to play. Don't sue, please.


He was stretched out in the hammock. This was far better than lying on the stone floor. For once, Xander had a good idea. It was dark. The candle hand burned out long ago, and he was too lazy to go light the torches Anya had suggested he hang in 'his place'. It was sort of comforting. This quiet darkness. Usually he was bouncing off the walls but not tonight.

Then he heard the door to the crypt creek as it opened. He slipped out of the hammock soundlessly. He stayed low and crept towards the intruder. He could see a figure moving through the crypt in the darkness. He prepared to make his move.

Willow was sure this was the one, but it was very dark. She smelled candle wax. Maybe he was out getting blood or something. She saw movement in the corner of her eye. She got half her scream out before whatever it was collided with her, knocking her to the stone floor of the crypt.

Right as he'd hit the intruder he thought he recognized the scream that got cut off. He knew it was soft human flesh he'd hit as they tumbled to the floor. The pain shooting through his brain confirmed it. He landed on top of the body - hard. It didn't move as he jumped up yelling in pain. He thought he smelled the odd mixture of cloves and vanilla for some reason. His head pounded, and the scent reminded him of something, but he couldn't place it. He pulled out his lighter and started lighting the torches scattered throughout the tomb. Now he could see a little better. He would go and face the trespasser.

Spike froze. Cloves and vanilla. That was what Willow smelled like. He walked back to the entrance slowly. She was there, in a heap in the cold floor. Spike knelt beside her. Her pulse was still strong. He could hear it. He brushed some of the hair out of her face. Her eyes snapped open. She tried to sit up. He put an arm behind her back to help her.

"Someone attacked me. Did you see them?"

"I was 'them', Pet."

"What?"

"I thought you were something else. I don't get many visitors."

She looked around. "Gee, I wonder why."

"Are you mocking?"

"No. Wouldn't dream of it." His arm was still behind her back. She became acutely aware of it. He helped her to her feet.

"Are you ok?" She was staring blankly at him.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you were ok. Did you hit your head?" He started feeling the back of her head for bumps. His hands were in her hair. Willow thought she might faint. He was so close to her. She closed her eyes. It was very nice. His touch was suprisingly light. She almost moaned. "Willow?" She was spacing out on him again. "Willow."

She opened her eyes. "Yes?"

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine."

"What are you doing here? Is there trouble?" Oh there was trouble all right. Just not the kind he was thinking.

"No, I just........ Just...." She couldn't explain.

"Come on, Pet. Let's get you to bed." Her eyes widened. "Your bed." Willow blushed.


"You didn't have to walk me back."

"Actually, I did."

"Well, thank you." She put her hand on his arm and squeezed. It was a very warm hand. She was looking at him intensely again. Right into his eyes. Then she turned quickly and went in her room. Spike stood in the hall unsure of what had just happened. All he was sure of was that something had. He didn't notice the tall figure in the shadows at the end of the hall that had been watching them intently, growling low in his throat.


He walked out of Stevenson Hall wondering what the hell had gotten into Willow. She was acting like little girl with a crush. That's all he needed. He'd inevitably hurt her feelings in this, and Buffy would stake him. What could she possibly see in him? He was over six times her age, dead, and a vampire. Hadn't she learned anything from the whole Buffy/Angel mess? Those kinds of things just didn't work out. Maybe he was imagining it. She was supposed to be smart. She had to be smarter than to be attracted to him. He could only hope, but he knew her heart had sped up when he touched her. She was so quiet. She was kind. She cared about people. She got nervous. She smiled from her heart. She showed her soul in her eyes. She was a living, breathing girl. She was everything he was not. She was also the first visitor he'd ever had. He needed a better place.

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