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Spike huddled Buffy close to his chest as best as he could while struggling to grab a hold of her small bag that sat the counter top. With one hand under her legs holding the bag and the other scooped around her back he made a slight jostle and adjustment before walking towards the door. With his arms full he had to walk through the doorway sideways, his view of the street obstructed, nearly dropping Buffy onto the ground when an elderly woman almost literally ran into them.

"Oh my goodness is she alright? Does she need a doctor?"

"She's fine, just took a small fall and hit her head is all." Spike reassured the woman as he tried to shut the door behind him. It wasn't an easy task with arms full of damsel and hands gripping her bag tight. The elderly lady looked at him suspiciously and he set her straight. "I'm Detective Giles and I'll see she gets home safe and sound."

"Oh, I-I'm Ruth. I own the little cafe down the street just there. I was actually coming to check on her." Ruth helped him shut the door after seeing him struggling.

"Can you get the keys?"

"Poor, dear. You know she has been acting so strange. Then again she is a strange girl." Ruth took the bag from the hand held under Buffy's knees and sorted through the belongings until she pulled out a set of keys. She locked the shop door for him before placing them back in the bag and securing the bags handle over his wrists. "She comes into the shop every now and then." She peered down at Buffy's form with a frown. "You know I hear her talking to herself sometimes. Just this morning she-"

"I really should be going. Make sure she gets looked after."

"Such a strange young woman."

"Y-yes well I'll see her home safe all's the same, Ruth. Thank you for your help with the door, ta."

"You're a kind Detective Mr. Giles."

Spike nodded and starting walking, Buffy still huddled up in his arms as Ruth ducked into the shop next to Buffy's. He could see her in the window with another woman, their judging eyes watching him as she carried Buffy down the street with strange looks on their faces.

He didn't have time to linger or think what they were talking about. Buffy was still out cold.

It took less than ten minutes to walk to his fathers shop from Buffy's. He stood outside the shops front and nearly laughed at the irony of the situation he was now in. The Magic Box's bright flashing sign stood out against the shop window. The windows display was full of ridiculous items and bits and bobs that the realist in him couldn't understand why anyone would want to purchase such things. Crystal displays with rocks of all shapes and colors were laid out over a purple velvet drape with books on aura's and gem stones lining the window front. His father's previous profession had been one of an upstanding and outstanding college professor in London, but ever since they had uprooted their lives and moved across the pond to the states after the death of his mother, things had changed. From the very first day he spent in the small town of Sunnydale he knew things were never going to be the same. His father had thrown away his job and teaching career and decided to 'retire' and become the glorified owner of the small 'magic' store.

He had never really understood his father's decision to stop teaching and go into retail. Spike saw his father once a week for Sunday roast and very rarely did they talk during the week, so it was no surprise that his father had sounded a bit strange earlier. Spike had his job and his father had the shop that was just the way of it.

Buffy moaned in his arms, her brows furrowed in discomfort as he pushed the door open.

The Magic Box indeed.

"William, what on earth-"

"Don't ask Da," he walked straight into the back of the shop where a few book cases blocked the view of Buffy's limp form from public view and he laid her on the small table there. "I don' have any answers."

"Is she alright?" Giles locked his shops front door after checking that no customers were inside before rushing to the back to check on the woman his son had just brought in.

"Did you get the blankets?"

With a nod his father pulled a bundle of blankets out from behind a bookshelf and laid them across Buffy's small frame who had started to shiver, lips turning blue.

"What happened?" Giles reached over the check her pulse, his eyes downcast on the watch he wore around his wrist. He didn't look at Spike, eyes focused on his watch as the seconds hand ticked by as he monitored her heartbeat. All seemed to be in order, her pulse was strong and steady and only then, satisfied she was in no immediate distress, did he glance up at his son who had nothing but worry and concern written on his face.

"It's a long story, one minute we were talking about a case and the next second she just froze, got a nosebleed and then passed out."

"Why did you call me? Why not call an ambulance? The girl clearly needs a doctor, William."

"That's the strange part actually."

"Strange?"

"She's so bloody cold still." Spike rubbed his hands up and down Buffy's blanket covered arms in an attempt to warm her up, whilst also avoiding how to explain to his father that his dead mothers voice told him to.

"Yes."

Spike ignored his father's weirdness for the moment as he stood and stared at the blonde woman on his shops table and pondered of the predicament he was in. Spike brushed a few strands of hair from Buffy's eyes and with a corner of one of the blankets did his best to wipe away the dried blood that was left under her nose and on her lips from the nose bleed she had sustained earlier.

Buffy's eyes moved beneath her closed eyelids and Spike grabbed onto her shoulder attempting to wake her.

"Buffy."

"She's in a REM sleep."

"A what?"

"REM sleep, it's a certain phase in your sleeping pattern. REM stands for rapid eye movement. It's caused by the relaxed muscles in the body, and causes the natural tendency of the sleeper to dream vividly.

Spike stared down at Buffy's face, having removed his hands from her shoulders. Her eyes went from the left to the right, moving rapidly beneath her closed lids as if she was in the throes of a dream.

"William, oh my dear boy. What have you done to yourself?"

"I hurt myself Ma."

"I can see that."

"OW!"

"Well what did you expect when you run around the house chasing your father who shouldn't be letting you run in the house in the first place! Rupert, you should know better."

"It was just a spot of fun."

"Well no ones laughing now are they."

"No, OW! Stop that."

"It's going to need stitches. Come on, in the car with you both. We're going to emergency. You know you're lucky you didn't lose your eye, William."

Buffy had been in a REM state, as his father had explained to him, for way too long. Spike hovered over her face, eyes wrought with concern as her features scrunched up in distress, brows furrowed. A tiny pinch of color had returned to her cheeks, indicating that the blankets were doing their job in warming her up, but she was still cold to the touch.

"Buffy?" Spike ran a hand down her cheek, watching as the muscles relaxed beneath his fingertips. Slowly but surely, her eyes opened. He almost jumped back from his position hovering over her when he felt small cold fingers trace the scar over one eye that covered most of his eyebrow.

"Your mother was so angry at you. You're lucky you didn't lose your eye, William." Buffy coughed and tried to sit up, spell broken as Spike jumped back from the touch, stumbling on his feet as Giles stood with his mouth open in bewilderment.

"Remarkable."


Chapter End Notes:
My muse is taking her sweet ass time with this story, sorry guys. I've got the outline for the next chapter worked out though :) Let me know your thoughts!



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