Spike looked over the body one more time and gently ran his hairbrush through the silken hair one last time. He stood back near the viewing window and surveyed his handiwork.

The body of a little girl lay on her side on a small raised bed with a soft looking pillow beneath her head. She was dressed in her favourite nightclothes and clutching a replica of her bedtime toy; she looked as though she were only sleeping. She had died at dawn that morning and the parents were coming in to see her in half an hour.

Spike’s eyes picked up the tiniest flaw in her skin, stepped up to the girl again, reapplied a dusting of powder to her face and a dewey pink sheen to her lips. His hand hesitated and briefly brushed towards her throat to feel for a pulse, he smiled sadly. He always checked now, since Willow came back to them.

"Would you do that for me Spike? When the time comes?" Willow’s soft voice came from behind him.

"’Course, Red, the Watcher too and the rest of you lot…" He turned and saw the livid marks on Willow’s face, the make-up he did for her yesterday when she met Xander had worn off. "How about some breakfast? Then I’ll do your face again, what colour do you fancy for eyes today? " He looked deep into her eyes as she smiled at him.

"I leave that up to you Spike." Her eyes fluttered down to her hands and saw the track of her tears on her fingers. "I used to have beautiful hands–" She sniffed and settled into his chest as he held her tightly and kissed her hair.

"C’mon Willow, you’re not dead yet! Eat and you’ll feel better." He looked down at her and plunged on talking round the lump that had formed in his throat. "I’ve got some of your clothes in a chest in my room, including my favourite fluffy pink sweater. You look too Goth in this gown." He snarled playfully and Willow giggled.

"Xander, why did you wake me?" Rupert’s eyes remained stubbornly closed despite the smell of Earl Grey wafting from the cup that Xander held before him.

"Because you have to come to the ward again today." Xander’s voice was flat.

Giles‘ eyes opened and he half sat up, pain flashed over his face constantly now, he never let Xander see it before. "You lost?" He let the question hang as he accepted his tea from Xander’s shaking hand.

"Lucy…" He sat down and hung his head gesturing weakly with his hand. "Just like that. She listened to Spike telling her a story like he does y’know, “The little Vampire” and went to sleep. She… she didn’t wake up."

Rupert stirred his tea. Saved one, lost one the souls are balanced again. Why did it have to be children? Why not some stupid drunk driver or child abuser? His cup shook then shattered with the pressure of his hand.

"Shit!" He leapt from the bed as hot tea soaked into the duvet.

Xander whipped the covers off and guided Rupert to the shower. "Cold water on that scald, then lukewarm."

Giles stepped into the shower and stayed under the spray. He reached for the soap and imagined Willow standing beside him warm and lithe sharing the shower, her hair darkened to liquid ruby under the water and droplets of it clinging to her pearlescent skin. He moaned as he imagined her hands on his body. Soothing his aches and pains away, creating a new ache in his groin. In his mind’s eye he saw her there, felt her arms weave round his chest and standing on tiptoe to lick and torture his nipples. He gasped as his seed flew from him and spattered the screen, the vision of Willow faded as the evidence of his self-love was washed away. He turned his face to the spray to cleanse it of his tears.

The door opened and Xander deposited a fresh towel on the stool by the bath. "We’re leaving for the hospital in ten, G–man"

"R–right Xander, thank you." Rupert’s voice echoed hollow in the steamy room and he leaned back and softly sobbed, "Willow" into the wall.

Buffy stood by the parents who clung to each other by the curtained window. Spike came from the viewing room and gave the Slayer a nod, then she pulled the curtain cord and Lucy’s parents saw her for the last time.

Buffy looked over at Spike, her eyes bright. The child had died in her sleep and he had preserved that, but here she looked angelic almost as if she still breathed. The people beside her gasped and took a pace forward, they had seen their daughter the night before, pale in death.

They left the room some time later, both still traumatised but a little calmer. Buffy lingered at the threshold–eyeing Spike. "You’re good for a bloodsucker."

Spike placed his pale hand over his heart and bowed his head to the Slayer, in acceptance of the backhanded compliment. Buffy smiled and brushed past him. Spike walked over to the window and muttered. "Off you pop sweetness, go and play with the rest of your mates." Then he pulled the curtain closed and switched off the light.

Upstairs in the Children’s Ward there was great excitement. Balloons and decorations were everywhere, the ones who were able sat around a table eating party food. There was one clean freshly made bed in the corner and a new patient had been admitted. They always had a party to welcome a new child. Xander, Spike and Buffy were there all playing hard.

Giles hung around in the stairwell. He had an uneasy feeling in his stomach and had been in pain since waking that morning. He paced the concrete landing until finally sliding down the wall of the stairs. He reached for his hated painkillers. He swallowed two and closed his eyes, his head resting on the wall behind him while he waited for them to take affect.

He heard a soft step on the stair tread and listened. Swallowing and getting to his feet, he saw a flash of red hair through the banister. His heart beat with the sound of the footfalls as he saw her ascend.

Her face and his wearing the same amazed expression of disbelief and then changing to the dawn of realisation.

Just a pace away from paradise they closed the gap and embraced, murmuring words of apology and acceptance; finally lips greeting. Their warmth melting all pain and the distance of time between them. The moment was one where the universe was held suspended, where no sand flowed through the hourglass and where no pendulum swung.

The lovers united at last and would never now be parted.

End of pt 5

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