Disclaimer: Joss and ME own Buffy and company. David Shore, etc., own House and PPTH. I own nothing but the words.

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Author's Note: I began this story years ago, and for some reason, it just wasn't working. I got off my butt, made it work, and finished it - finally! - for the wipbigbang over on livejournal. Thank you, shen and frea, for making me finish it! And thanks to my friend Lisa for beta-reading.

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"Hey."

Dawn looked up from her Latin textbook and squinted into the sun. It took her a few moments to make out who it was, but then she jumped up from her seat and gave him a hug.

"Oz!"

"Hey," he said again.

Dawn practically pushed him into the seat across from hers at the table and then sat down again, wiping her hands on her jeans once she could do it without him seeing her. It was a cool autumn day in Princeton; she was bundled up in a thick sweater and warm socks under her boots, with a cup of hot chocolate next to her textbook. Why was he sweating like that?

"So, what's up?" she asked. "What have you been up to? And how did you find me, anyway?"

Oz shrugged. "Willow keeps me updated on where everyone is. I've been in Thailand."

"Wow," Dawn said, leaning forward. "I'm starting Asian languages next semester - but Mandarin and Japanese, not Thai. It would be so cool to go there. What was it like?" He wasn't just sweating, he was flushed and looked exhausted. What on earth?

"You'd like it," Oz said. "I wasn't in the tourist-trap areas." He suddenly started to shiver violently, his teeth chattering so much he couldn't talk.

Dawn jumped up again. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Oz shook his head, but couldn't seem to get out any words. Dawn looked around, but didn't see anyone she knew at any of the other tables. They were starting to attract attention, though. The table bumped her leg, and she looked back down at Oz just in time to catch him before he fell off of his chair. She tried to hold him still as she eased him down to the ground, but he was convulsing so hard that his flailing arms hit her several times before she could get him into a good position. She didn't mind that, but she had no idea what was wrong with him.

"I called 911," someone said, and Dawn looked up to see that they'd attracted a crowd.

"Thanks," she said. She was having horrible flashbacks to the last time someone had visited her at college and gotten sick, but she didn't care if this was magical; she couldn't deal with it on her own. She did need a doctor she could trust, though, and she knew just where one was. When the EMTs arrived, she couldn't answer most of their questions, but she could say one thing with certainty.

"Take him to Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital."