"Red!" He gasped. Her skin was pale and beneath her eyes, dark circles rested. Her skin looked mottled and discoloured blotches marred her once flawless features. Spike listened and narrowed his gaze to her throat. Her fine red hair moved minutely it was barely discernable to human eyes but the sheen of her hair shifted, indicating a pulse.

Spike stood as a marble statue beside her, transfixed at her beauty and strength of will. Then suddenly he leapt to the wallphone tapping the number of the Slayers pager almost too rapidly for the phone to decipher.

"We got a live one!" he yelled. Then slammed the receiver back in its cradle; the handset fell from the wall.

He turned back to the table his chest heaving with unneeded breath. Just sometimes, he needed to breathe to be able to understand the living. He dragged the oxygen from the cupboard and set up a mask for Willow to breathe properly. He was standing taking her pulse when Buffy arrived minutes later.

"You’re slowing, Slayer!" Spike announced with his back to Buffy.

"Sue me!" Spike whirled round to be met by a stake.

"Whoa! Not that kind of live one! Shit!" He exclaimed and stepped out of the way. "It’s Willow…"

"Willow?" Buffy moaned, she looked closely at the body on the table and smiled. "We need to get her warm… Spike?"

The vampire had already opened the door to his inner sanctum and scooped up the witch’s body, he smiled sadly at the Slayer. "She’s so light Buffy." He swallowed as his eyes welled with tears, he could feel her bones through her meagre flesh. Buffy’s hand on his shoulder urged him into his flat.

"Then, we’ll have to fatten her up before she sees Giles." Buffy followed him in and was surprised at the calm space, a few books on a board supported by bricks and a tape deck, metal sconces on the walls sported thick church candles and the high narrow window was hung with a dark velvet drape.

Spike swept past Buffy and deposited Willow on his bed. He opened the wardrobe and left Buffy to dress her warmly. He removed the toe tag and went into the living room. He reached under the sofa and brought out his laptop. He was tapping the code number into the database when Buffy came in.

"Spike, you are a constant paradox!" She smiled as she looked over his shoulder and saw the Emergency Room report and probable cause of death. Spike stopped typing as one word grew in his vision to encompass the screen. Buffy gave the cause of his unrest a name.

"Aids–Willow is HIV positive." Buffy scrolled down the report and mentally ticked off the symptoms, Karposi’s sarcoma, high T Cell count and and… Willow had a child? Death in infancy… Spike turned the computer off.

"I’m going to get rat–arsed! Join me?" Buffy nodded and sat back on the sofa, moments later Spike arrived with two bottles.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Only glasses I got are specimen beakers." Buffy accepted the bottle and opened the seal. It was going to be a long night.

Willow dreamt. She was so cold and soon she would see Tara and Oz again. Would they want her still after all she had been through? She closed her eyes on the world fully expecting to see the next when she opened them. But it was strange; did heaven have candles and warm covers? And… She lifted her hips and looked at the magazine that had disturbed her rest.

"Sadie Stern, a magazine for leather… Oh God! Where am I?" she eeped. She felt down her body, she was dressed in a soft warm nightgown that reminded her of one she owned when very small, the summer that she met Xander for the first time. A bright smile lit her face briefly, her jaw ached to smile too much. She moved her tongue about her mouth, her teeth felt like they had fur coats on…

"Toothbrush." She slipped out of the covers and walked lightly to the bathroom.

"shhhusshh… you hear sumfin?" Spike heaved his head off the Slayers lap… and listened.

"Nope, jus, noisy gurgly Slayer tummy" He smiled and nuzzled back down. Buffy listened for a few seconds more, and tipped the remains of her bottle down her throat.

"Okeydokey, Buffy need bathroom…" She lifted her hips and Spike’s head followed. "Hey, hey! Spike! I need to go potty!"

Spike smiled wolfishly, turned on his back and opened his mouth… The Slayer left the sofa; the crash of a vampiric body shook the walls.

"I’m–ok Jus broken neck" Spikes’ voice drifted into the bathroom.

Buffy frowned. Spikes blatant disregard for energy saving offended her ecological principles. She let it mellow and turned the light off.

Willow fell back into her bed and closed her eyes. They sprung open again as she remembered the light. She got out of bed and went back, the light was off. Strange. She flushed the cistern and turned to leave. She froze as she heard thunderous footfalls and swearing.

The light flashed on. "Willow!" Spike and Buffy shouted in unison. They had happy beaming smiles as they bowled into the room together.

Willow backed away from them in terror. She turned her face to the tiled wall and slowly slid down its smooth surface, weeping inconsolably.

Buffy took a step toward her, her hand held out in a gesture of comfort. Willow batted it away, and hunched further down. "Don’t touch me. Don’t look at me. I’m sick"

Buffy knelt by her friend, and just stretched out her hand to touch Willow’s fingertips. "I know Will. I’m just glad to see you." She blinked her tears away and licked her lips. "We all missed you so much! Xander will want to see you and Giles"

Willow whipped her head round at the sound of his name. "Not Giles!" She grabbed Buffy’s hand in a vice–like grip. "Please Buffy, not Giles." Willow’s hollow eyes implored her and at last, she nodded. Willow seemed to relax and take in Spike, she smiled her first shy smile, and he reached out to stroke her flaming hair.

"Your hair saved you Red. They thought you were dead, I knew different." Willow looked puzzled.

Buffy explained. "Willow, Spike works in the mortuary of the hospital. Actually, the workroom is just next-door. Xander and I are doctors, he’s a paediatrician, and I’m an oncologist. Your condition was serious. Umm we know about the Aids, but no one else does."

Willow nodded. She managed to smile at her friend. Buffy was a doctor? She walked back to the bedroom and slipped between the covers. Spike made popcorn and sat on the end of the bed. He looked at her as though she were transparent.

"Spike? How have you been?" He curled round her feet like a panther and fixed her with his azure gaze.

"Oh, fine, a little mayhem, a little molesting. I get along, y’know. I work down here because it’s peaceful and I can’t hurt the customers." He grinned. "Slayer says I know the cause of death before the tests do." He winked at Buffy. "It just means she saves on her budget." He noticed the witch’s eyes drooping. And signalled Buffy.

"Willow, I think it’s time you rested. Do you want me to tell Xander?" Buffy pulled the comforter up to her friend’s neck and tucked it snugly about her shoulders.

"Yes, but don’t take him away from his work! He loves being with kids…a big kid himself isn’t he?" She murmured, soon her eyes closed and her hand holding Buffy’s went limp.

Giles tossed and turned in his covers. The dream was not the usual nightmare, he dreamt of Buffy, of the brief time they had together after Willow and Riley left. It was warm and comfortable, what they both needed at a difficult time. It had lasted a year and then a deep friendship had formed between them that had lasted ever since.

In his dream he shared Buffy’s bed with Willow watching them pale and silent, she moved closer as his climax approached and stood so close that her perfume surrounded him. He left Buffy and Willow stepped away he followed until he was running after her, his heart racing in his chest.

Xander turned the TV low he heard a moan from Giles’ room and then a crash. He shot from the sofa and wrenched open the door of the Watchers room.

Giles was on the floor drenched in sweat with his eyes open and pleading, his arm outstretched toward a receding apparition. Xander checked his pulse, Giles’ heart was racing, and he breathed too rapidly…

"Giles! Take it easy…" He shook the old man mildly. Xander cast his eyes round the room. The mask and oxygen were over the other side of the bed.

Giles’ eyes and lips paled; with his last conscious breath, he uttered her name. "Willow–"

End of pt 3

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