WORD COUNT: 941
“RED! OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR!”
Alfred did the unthinkable when he heard the racket coming from the front entry way.
He dropped the pot of tea he was fixing.
Spike could feel the approaching sunrise as he once again pounded on the door. Leave it to his stupid git of a Grand-Sire to give the witch a text so valuable and powerful as a wedding gift that it required a trip across the county to be hand delivered. And lucky Spike, he was just the vamp for the job. Not like he had anything better to do at the moment…except to get all dusty if the occupants of this ridiculous sized house did not open the bleedin’ door. Pounding on the door, he glanced over his shoulder and tried to think why he had thought it would have been so easy to find where the little witch was shacking up these days. Well, it would have been easy if he had not gotten lost in Gotham City and ran across a man, dressed as giant bat, of all things, beating the hell out of someone...out of several someones actually. Of course Spike just had to stop and watch as the flying rodent quickly made short work of his opponents; nothing like a spot of violence and bloodshed to sooth the inner demon, even if he was not the one dealing said violence and bloodshed. He did have to give the man credit for originality, form and style. Some of the moves the bat…man…whatever was using on his victims Spike had only seen a Slayer or assorted demons use.
Spike had thought about getting out of the car and joining the fray but the precious book, wrapped up in a pretty silver paper with a giant ridiculous bow, sat in his backseat, waiting to be delivered to one married witch was the only thing that had stopped him. Still Spike had watched until the last guy had slid into oblivion, helped along by the masked man and his fist. He had watched as the fighter had disappeared into the shadows, much like a vampire, or so Spike had thought. He stayed were he was until, off in the far distance, he could make out the sound of police sirens wailing and heading in his direction. Spike could only assume that the police in this city were smarter then the cops of the now long sunk Sunnydale. He put his car in gear and turned around. Between getting lost and stopping to watch the fight, Spike now had very little time before the sun started its fiery and dust inducing march across the morning sky. The shadowy recess of the front entry way would not protect him long once the sun fully arose. He shifted the book to his other hand and resumed pounding on the door.
“COME ON! OPEN THE DAMN DOOR! RED, DON’T MAKE ME…”
The door abruptly opened and Spike would have hit the elderly man in the face if it had not been for the invisible barrier that kept his kind from crossing over the threshold of the house.
“May I help you?”
“Have a gift for the witch from the poof. Gonna let me in?”
Alfred was taken aback by the appearance of the man before him. Something seemed off. Maybe it was the look of terror that was starting to creep across his face as he glanced over his shoulder at the slowly rising sun. It could have been the full length leather duster the man was wearing in the early summer morning. But then again it was probably just the fact that when Alfred heard the Wayne’s coming down the stairs to see what the commotion was and as he had turned to greet them, he could not see the man’s reflection in the hallway mirror. Alfred only raised an eyebrow. ‘Bloody Vampires,’
he thought to himself. Alfred’s hand slipped under his jacket, searching for the cross he had hidden there.
‘Spike!” said Willow as she crossed the front hallway, surprised to see him so late or was it early in the day?
“Pet. Let. Me. In. Now.”
“Oh, goodness. Do come in, Spike.”
Alfred stopped searching for his cross once he heard his mistress invite the vampire into the house. He turned and went back to the kitchen to try to finish making tea he had started before he had dropped the pot.
“Thanks, love. Cut it a little close there,” Spike said as he crossed into the house.
“Spike, what are you doing here? Not that I mind but you are a little far from home.”
“Peaches sent a gift and guess who the unlucky vampire to play errand boy was? Not like I don’t have an unlife to live,” the blond grumbled.
“Angel? He didn’t have to send me anything.”
“Yeah, well he did and so there,” he said thrusting the gaily wrapped package at the woman. He took in Red’s appearance. She truly looked happy, even if she had some big hulking man’s arm wrapped around her pink fuzzy clad waist. Whoa, wait, pink fuzzy? Yup there was a lilac shirt under the fuzzy pink bathrobe. He wondered how her husband would take it if he told her that he would still bite her in a heartbeat. There was just something about a fuzzy pink number with the lilac underneath it. Somehow he didn’t think the larger man would take to kindly to it, so he kept his mouth shut…for now.
“So, witch, got a room in this enormous house of yours that I can stay in for a few days?”