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Bored Series - Come Into My Parlor -- by Ruby
Rating: PG-13
Description: Spike welcomes a guest, sequel to Sightless Watcher.
Disclaimer: Joss owns all. I own nothing. Story of my life.
Oz thanked the activities director of the campus recreation center. After months of persistent prodding, he had finally persuaded the man to sign on the band for a weekend gig.
It would be a welcome change of venue for the band, and for himself in particular. He'd always enjoyed their sets at the Bronze, but lately, he found himself dreading them. The place reminded him too much of Willow and lost opportunities.
He wondered if he'd ever have the chance to tell her he was sorry, to tell her he understood. As the days past, he doubted it more and more. The realization that he would most likely never see her again had settled into the pit of his stomach like a lead weight. Although he never discussed it with anyone, his thoughts were constantly centered on Willow.
As he made his way to the exit, his ears picked up phrases from a conversation between two women sitting at a table by the wall.
"You saw him, too? Isn't he the most gorgeous thing on two legs?"
"Mmmm, that blonde hair, those cheekbones. I could eat him alive."
"And that British accent, talk about seductive."
Oz froze in his tracks. He turned to the bulletin board hanging on the wall beside the door and pretended to peruse the assorted ads posted on it.
"Wonder where he lives. He can't be a student. I've only ever seen him around at night."
"Billie said she saw him walking toward that old house at the end of Crafton Street."
"Way out there? Nice and secluded. The perfect place for a night of loud sex."
The women's salacious giggles followed Oz out of the building.
The thought of Spike roaming the streets of Sunnydale made Oz's skin crawl. If it were true, and he had no doubt that the vampire was the object of the women's lust, there was a good possibility he was behind the disappearance of Willow and Xander.
He turned off the van's headlights as he neared the house. A thick hedge of tall trees bordered the house on both sides, and the lawn was overgrown and ragged. The stereotypical horror setting, straight out of a B-movie. He stopped a few feet from the driveway and got out. The yard was silent and empty, and a faint light filtered through a dingy window along the front of the house. Oz crept around the exterior of the building in search of another, less conspicuous, entrance.
Spike broke away from Willow's impassioned kiss as a minion appeared in the doorway.
"We've got company," the underling announced.
Willow's body tensed, and Spike laid a comforting hand on her arm.
"Where?" Spike asked.
"Skulking around the back."
"Wait in the corridor. Make sure whoever it is gets well inside before you take him," Spike ordered.
The minion nodded and left.
"Spike?" Willow asked with trepidation.
"It's all right, baby," Spike told her. "Nothing to worry about."
Oz held his breath as the door creaked on its rusty hinges. He stood motionless and waited to see if his intrusion had been detected. The house was quiet and still. Leaving the door ajar, he crept across the cracked and faded linoleum that covered the kitchen floor.
He strained his eyes against the darkness of the corridor and took a few cautious steps. He stopped. Listened. Sniffed. Willow's unique scent permeated the stale air of the house. His heart jumped. She was here.
The minion sidled up on quiet feet behind the intruder. Oz sensed his presence as the vampire moved directly behind him. Oz's nerves began to tingle, and he turned toward his stalker. The vampire snarled once, raised his clasped hands, and clubbed the trespasser. The force of the blow spun Oz around, and he fell, face-first, onto the floor.
The End
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