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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the delay guys but I am back on track. Will update more regularly from now on.
Flashbacks are in italics

Buffy’s body and mind were working in different time zones. As William moved her towards her bed she was responding to William’s embrace far quicker physically than she was mentally.

‘Oh my God!’ They fell onto the bed and Buffy realised that all of William’s parts were more than caught up with the current situation.

“Will!” Buffy half spoke, half moaned. “What are you doing?”

William never liked to use clichés but what was happening to him right this instant was the best thing he had ever experienced. He now understood why people wrote poetry, songs, and painted masterpieces to express the feelings currently coursing through what felt like every fibre of his being.

He did not know what came over him. One minute they were talking and the next he was kissing her as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. As first kisses went, he thought he did pretty well. He had done it to shut her up, to stop all the sex talk. However, his reasons for continuing were quite different.

“Painting a wall Buffy, what does it look like?” William answered.

He could not take his eyes off her lips. Were they always that colour? He wondered in all the years why he had never even given a thought to the colour of her lips but right here, in this moment her lips were the most important issue he had ever faced.

William suddenly became aware of their situation. How had he ended up lying on top of her on her bed? ‘That’s right… that happened right after you grabbed her and kissed her senseless.’ He quickly moved off her and rolled onto his side.

As soon as William moved away, Buffy felt a sense of loss. ‘What is that all about?’ she wondered to herself. She sat up and looked at Will lying on her bed trying to regain his composure. She had never noticed his lips before their kisses. Now swollen and flushed from their kisses, but there was more to it than that, something she could not put her finger on.

“So I guess we covered the kissing part.” Buffy broke the silence.

“Yeah, I think we know how that all works,” William replied. He turned over to look at her; she was beautiful. Why had he not noticed before?

“So is Friday still good for you?” Buffy asked.

~

Spike was tired. He was not even through his first physiotherapy session and he was buggered. He looked up at his torturer and pleaded.

“Please luv, can we take a break?” They had been doing leg exercises in the hospital gym and he really wanted to take a cigarette break.

“I don’t think so… you still have ten reps of twenty on this leg to do.” Dr. Tara McClay looked at Spike. “I know this is hard and it’s hurting you, but believe me it will help you in the long run. If it helps, pretend you are back in the gym in high school,” she offered.

Spike laughed at the thought. “If you are trying to make me feel better you are going the wrong way about it luv. Gym class was not a highlight unless you count being picked last for team and having medicine balls thrown at you for fun.”

“Well to look at you, I just figured you were athletic. I mean you look pretty fit… broken leg notwithstanding.” Tara commented.

“Thanks… are you checking out my goodies?” Spike flirted.

“Only in my strict physio capacity. Trust me; I am not interested in your goodies.” Tara laughed.

“You wound me, pet. I have had quite a few compliments regarding my talents,” Spike replied.

“I’m sure you have. It’s just you’re not my type.” Tara moved towards Spike to start the next round of exercises.

“I get it… blondes not your thing?” Spike prepared himself for the next exercise.

“Well even if blondes were my thing I still wouldn’t be interested,” Spike smiled as he ran his hand through his darkening roots.
“No, not blondes, men. Men aren’t my thing.” With that, Tara grabbed Spike’s leg and started to move it.

~

Buffy sat in the staff room drinking her coffee; she was twelve hours into her eighteen-hour shift. Already today, she had seen so many patients she had lost count; after a while, they all just bled into one. No pun intended. Whilst she was always one hundred percent committed to whatever patient was in front of her, her thoughts always drifted back to him.

It had been a week since the accident and she still was resisting the urge to visit him. Buffy knew what floor, what room, and practically every detail of Spike Giles’ care. It was not as if she sought out the information; it was just all the nurses and interns talked about.

High profile patients were rare at the hospital, so Spike’s care and recovery were hot gossip around the corridors. It seemed as though every conversation she walked into or asked to be a part of in some way centred on Spike Giles.

She hated it. She had spent the last eight years carefully constructing ways of avoiding Spike and the pain and heartache he had caused. She had done a good job at it. She had closed herself off to that part of herself that still loved him. If she kept moving, working, ignoring it, it would go away. No, it had gone away. Then in some kind of cosmic joke here it was; eight years of pushing back her thoughts and feelings and they were all coming back in one big rush.

Buffy shivered as she again pushed her thoughts and feelings back for what seemed like the fiftieth time today. She had to do something about it; she had to move on. In addition, as much as she did not want to do it, she knew what she had to do. Drusilla be dammed she was going to do it; she was going to see Spike.

She got up to go to the elevator and as she turned around, she saw the face from her nightmares.

In an instant, she was back to that day. The day everything changed. The day her heart shattered into what seemed like a million pieces and no matter how hard she tried to put them back together, there always seemed to be a piece missing.

“Hello, Sunshine.” The nightmare spoke.

“Drusilla.”





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