Bacon: sweet, luscious bacon. I breathed in then out and gave a satisfied sigh. Until I noticed I wasn't the one cooking it. I peeled my eyes open and the world was as blurry as ever. I stretched, rubbing my eyes and the world was clearer.

"Ouch," I said, feeling the crook in my neck.

"I'd never thought you'd wake." Wesley. He stood by the fiery garbage can with a pan in his hand full of bacon. He looked like he'd cleaned up a little. His bare torso was no longer covered in pus and dried blood but he still had a bandage on, which looked new.

I wondered how the hell he was standing. And why he didn't have a shirt on. It was as cold as hell.

"What time is it?" I asked, turning my gaze from his gleaming six pack. The dim light shining through the bathroom window. Ice was fogging over it.

Wesley shrugged and turned back to his work, humming what sounded like Mary Had a Little Lamb.

"Where'd you get that bacon?" I asked.

Wesley chuckled under his breath, then winced at the motion. "The kitchen. Duh. Seems like you overlook a lot of things or maybe you just don't care."

I scoffed at him. "Really? Cause if I didn't care you'd by lying dead on that bed of yours! So don't judge me if you don't know me."

To my surprise, Wesley laughed, making me even more pissed off. "I didn't mean it as an offense; I meant it as a joke. And thank you, for saving my life."

I pouted and stood up. A rush of dizziness surged through my head, forcing me to sit back down.

Wesley whirled around and held out a plate of bacon and eggs. "Here," he said. "I'm sure you didn't eat much yesterday since you tended to me. This is the least I can do to pay you back."

I looked down at the plate. He'd made the most amazing fluffy eggs and crispy bacon I'd ever seen. Restaurant style. My stomach rumbled at the sight of food and I realized I hadn't eaten that much yesterday. I took the plate. "How'd you get the eggs unfrozen?"

Wesley laughed a short, sweet laugh and sat down on the bed. "It took a little heat."

I watched him as he placed a plate of bacon down for Hope. She barked happily and licked his still-greasy fingers. "Can you put a shirt on?" I instantly regretted asking that. I blushed, looked away, and started eating. "I mean, it's cold." I risked a peak at him only to find him smiling at me.

Why did he have to smile so much?

"I know but the fire warmed me up. And it still kind of hurts to move," he answered.

I blushed again, wondering if he was implying my help.

"So how do you like the eggs? They don't taste frozen do they?"

I was grateful for the change in subject. "No. They're delicious." And they were. I took another bite of heaven. "How'd you learn how to cook like this? Is it in your genes?"

A look of pain washed over his face, but as quickly as it was there it was gone. "My dad. He's a chef; a great one too. I've always wondered how I'm not 500 pounds yet." Wesley smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

We continued eating; the silence hanging over us like an awkward mist. He finished first, and took my plate without a word. I thanked him but he didn't notice.

While he scrubbed the dishes, I silently crept into the bathroom, with Hope keeping me company. I filled the sink with soap and bottled water and stepped out of my clothes. The cold hit me like a slap. Hope barked and jumped onto the toilet, wagging her tail.

"Don't pee on the toilet," I said to her. "I'll wash you later." I hurriedly grabbed the green washcloth and scrubbed the dirt, grime, and blood off of me. The water was freezing cold but the cleanliness was worth it. I washed my hair and pulled it up into a messy bun. I patted myself dry and pulled on my old clothes. They felt dirty on my clean skin. I decided I was going to search the hotel for new ones.

"Now it's your turn, girl." Hope wriggled under my fingers as I placed her in the water. She was probably cold too. I quickly ran my soapy hands through her soft, black fur and rinsed her off afterwards. The water was yellow afterwards. She shivered as I placed her on the floor and shook like dogs always do, spraying me in the process.

I swore and quickly dried me and her off.

Wesley was struggling to pull a shirt over his head when we left the bathroom. Without thinking, I hurried over to him and shrugged the shirt down over his head. His face emerged from it, facing me. Only then did I notice how close we were. I held my breath and he opened his mouth but before he could say anything I stepped away and said, "Sorry."

Wesley smiled, pulling down the rest of his shirt. "I was going to say thank-you."

I looked down; embarrassed. "Oh."

"I see you've gotten washed up. And so has the dog."

"Hope," I corrected. "Her name. I thought she was yours."

"Nope. I've never seen her 'til today."

"Oh, well we're about to go look for some clothes… Cause mine are dirty. And see if there's anyone else here. And see if there are any other supplies we need. And see… Do you want to come?"

Wesley smiled. "I was hoping you'd ask me that."

"I don't know though. You're still healing. I'm not sure if you can take all the stairs. And the cold. You should stay." I said quickly. I hoped he didn't get the wrong idea.

"Yeah, I think you're right. I just don't want anything to happen to you. You might slip, break your neck, and I wouldn't know." Wesley looked away. "I don't know what I'd do without you. If you hadn't found me before…" He didn't have to go on for me to get the idea.

"Thanks for the reassurance," I said sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm sure Hope here will tell you if anything happened to me. I hope…

Hope barked at the sound of her name.

"How long will you be gone?" Wesley asked.

I was surprised he even cared. "However long it takes. You might want to change that bandage and clean it out sometime soon, too. I won't be here to do it for you."

"Yeah. That's a good idea. I'll just…rest."

"Yeah. So we'll just be going now." I slowly backed out of the room and slipped out of the door, Hope at my heels, and Wesley looking eagerly after me.