Two months went by.

Two long, grueling, heart-wrenching months.

Slack had not been in contact. Anya had seen nothing of him since the day he stormed out on her, hurt by her attentions to another man. He must have thought her rather loose, someone who could be won over simply by receiving flattery from handsome men. If Aunt Jane had not stopped her that night, she would have followed him home and stood outside of his door until he had to leave, begging for his forgiveness and trying her hardest to win him back.

But she had not done that. She had stayed, content with the hope that he would come to his senses soon enough and come back to her of his own volition. Things would be different: She would be happy and in the arms of the man she loved, the man she had vowed would be protected by her at all costs.

But nothing had happened. She was still waiting for him, two months later. Waiting for a sign that somehow his hard heart had softened just a little, allowing him to give her some form of solace from the grief that constantly ate away at her.

Every morning she sat at the window in the sitting room, staring out into the street to catch even a second's glimpse of his car should he come by. When the afternoon came and nothing happened, she would take tea with Aunt Jane and stay by the window, allowing the old woman to briefly distract her from her silent vigil for only moments at a time. Once Aunt Jane ran out of things to say, the vigil began again and Anya was left by the window until darkness fell, taking no sustenance but tea and sandwiches, things that could be consumed whilst her eyes were focused on other things. At last, when everyone had gone to bed, she would retire to her room and curl up in her bed, feeling the familiar tears well up on the insides of her lids, and would quietly sob herself to sleep.

Finally, Marple had enough. The poor girl was withering away into nothing, and it did not seem like the cycle would ever be broken unless something drastic happened. If Slack could not be persuaded in any way to see or communicate with Anya, she was afraid that the young angel might simply die from her broken heart, if such a thing were possible for the angel.

Miss Marple woke herself and dressed as usual, stretching her old bones as far as they would let her as her eyes found the sunshine spilling over the earth to bathe the land in color again. It was a warm Monday morning, exactly two months after that dreadful day, and it was time for Marple to have a serious talk with the angel about her behavior.

The girl was not to be blamed in any way for her reaction. Marple doubted the girl had had any experience with something like this before. But things could not go on this way.

She must convince Anya to cease her negative behavior and work on bringing the angel back to her former self. It had been long enough now. Perhaps Anya had to be the one to initiate conversation between the two again. Marple could certainly think of nothing else, and even though she might wish it, her involvement would not be seen in a welcoming light by the Inspector. It was best for her to stay out of the limelight for the moment.

Nodding to herself, the old woman shambled from her room and turned down the hall to confront the angel while she was still in bed. It was best to start early: This could be an all-day project she was undertaking.

She had her hand on the doorknob and was raising the other to knock when she heard something peculiar. Could it be-? She stopped and leaned forward, placing her ear gently against the door as she listened to the movement inside. Yes, there was no doubt about it. The angel was already out of bed and moving around! Why, she had never gotten up this early before, especially not since her gloomy spell! What could have happened to bring about this sudden shift in mood?

She knocked frantically. "Anya? Dear, what is it? Why are you up this early?" she asked, almost frightened to hear the answer.

Footsteps hurried to the door and it was wrenched open by a frazzled-looking angel. She was only half-dressed, pulling on the top to her green suit as she held the door open for Marple. Her eyes were wild with worry, her hands shaking as they did up the buttons to her top.

"Anya, dear, what-?"

"It's Slack, Aunt Jane! I must go to him at once! I can wait no longer. He needs me!" she gasped, frantically doing the last button up. Marple was taken aback at the angel's wild behavior.

"How do you know he needs you, dear? What's happened? Has he contacted you? Oh dear, I must be getting old if I can't hear the telephone anymore." The angel was shaking her head hard.

"No, Aunt Jane! He's sick, I can sense it! Oh, he had a terrible fever this morning and, of course, is not staying in bed and resting, but instead is going to work! He must stay home, this illness he has is taxing his strength too quickly for him to cope alone. He needs someone, and I cannot sit here another moment wallowing away in despair when he needs my help! Please, Aunt Jane, I must go to him!" The angel was nearly in tears as she begged for Marple to understand her reasoning.

The old woman nodded quickly, her hands reaching out to steady the angel. The girl was weak herself, the woman thought. Surviving off of tea and sandwiches now and again for two months had withered away any strength the angel had had. Oh, if only she had insisted on breaking this spell sooner!

"You will take a car, dear. You are in no position to be flying in your state right now. You are too weak. I wish you had taken better care of yourself, Anya. Come now, let's get some breakfast in you and then you'll be feeling better. You need to take care of yourself before you can hope to be of any help to the Inspector, yes?" she said, taking the angel's elbows as she guided her out the door. Anya nodded weakly, helpless even in the frail old woman's arms.

Marple took her downstairs and had Bessie whip up a nice, filling breakfast to bring the angel back to even a fraction of her former self. The angel sat and ate slowly, allowing her stomach to adjust to the sudden influx of food being dumped into it. Marple ate with her, watching the girl with apprehension the whole while. Could she be over reacting with this sense of hers? Marple wondered. No, Anya looked badly shaken. She was very worried about Slack, and so Marple had no doubt that whatever bug the Inspector had caught was serious indeed. If he didn't take care of himself properly, it could even be deadly.

The angel finished quicker than Marple anticipated and stood to take her leave when the old woman stopped her. "I'll call for the car, dear. It should be around in a moment." Anya shook her head.

"I should be fine now, Aunt Jane. I can fly. It will be faster anyway." Marple sighed.

"I would feel better about it if you took the car. You can't afford to exhaust yourself when the Inspector will need all of your strength, yes? What if he collapses? Take the car, dear. You will have plenty of opportunities to stretch your wings once this horrible ordeal is over." The old woman simply beamed with confidence, infecting Anya with her optimism. The angel nodded once, surrendering to the woman's will as Marple hurried to the phone in the front hall to call for the car.

She did have a point, Anya thought. It would do no good for anyone if she pushed herself harder than she should. She must be strong now and harden herself for this new challenge. Slack would not be happy upon seeing her, she knew. He would resent her coming to him and refuse her attentions even though all she would be trying to do was help.

Somehow she must get through the thick shield he had formed around himself. She had to convince him that she would never hurt him, not ever. Not like the woman in his life before had.

Her chest burned at the thought of the pain that woman had caused him. Why, if Anya had been around...What? What would she have done? She sighed, her shoulders sagging in defeat. She didn't know. Marple entered the room in time to witness the defeated pose the angel portrayed and wondered what had changed her mood so suddenly.

"Anya?" The angel looked up, realizing then that she was not alone anymore. She smiled disarmingly, the confidence returning to straighten her posture.

"I'm all right, Aunt Jane. I let my thoughts wander, but I am focused now. Is the car coming?" She got straight to the point, eager for no time to be wasted. In the back of her conscious, she could feel a slow burning fever raging throughout the Inspector's body. It seemed worse now than when she had first been roused by it.

"Yes, the car is coming. Is he still all right, Anya?" The angel shook her head slowly.

"The fever is harsh on his body, Aunt Jane. I'm surprised he is still on his feet. I must get to the station quickly before something terrible happens."

"You don't think that Sergeant Lake-?" Anya shook her head again fervently.

"No, Aunt Jane, Lake won't be able to convince Slack to go home and rest. The man has the stubbornness of a mule, after all. It must be me that does this in whatever way I can. And, Aunt Jane, I will have to stay with him until he is well again," she said uncertainly, feeling almost nervous to say such a thing. What would his reaction be when she did not leave him on his own? He would not be at all accepting of her staying at his own house to nurse him back to health.

This would be the most difficult challenge given her yet. She just hoped that she was up to it.

A beeping outside the front door brought her back to herself as Aunt Jane jumped into action and ushered her toward the hall, offering tidbits of advice along the way. Anya only half-listened, her heart pumping faster now at the reality of what she was doing.

She had not seen Slack for two months now. There had been no contact between them for that period of time, not even a short visit by Sergeant Lake to consult with Aunt Jane on a case. It was strange not seeing or hearing Slack's voice for so long a time. Their meeting seemed almost surreal after such a lapse.

Aunt Jane was swatting at her to hurry and get into the car, the door held open by the patient chauffeur. Anya was in the car with the door closing and Aunt Jane waving at her before she had time to register what was happening. She waved back weakly, her eyes straying to the driver as he turned his head back to hear her destination.

"The police station, please," she sputtered, the words amazingly difficult for her to speak. How was she to do this when she could barely hold herself together? Something had to happen: Something that didn't involve her racing mind to over think a response.

She was still wrestling with her doubts when the car pulled up outside of the police station and the driver opened the door for her, watching her impatiently as she fought to gather herself. With all the strength she could muster, she extended a shaking leg and stepped out of the car, allowing the man to close the door behind her and resume his seat, racing away as quickly as he had come and leaving her stranded at the one place she thought she would never dread coming to.

She didn't know how long she stood staring at the station doors, imagining the enraged face of Slack appearing behind the doors as he came out to yell for her to go away, leave him alone! She was so lost in her imagination, petrified of the image her mind played over and over again that a sudden honk made her jump, her heart launching into her throat as she tore her eyes away from the building and stared at an angry driver who was impatiently waving her out of the way so that he could park his car in the space she was standing in.

She hurried onto the sidewalk, relinquishing the space to the frustrated man. Her head ached with all the scenarios her mind called up to her, each one more frightening than the last, until finally she stopped all thoughts, clearing her mind of everything for a moment as she sought to gain control. She closed her eyes and her mind became a blank slate, nothing appearing in front of her as she steadied her breathing and her heart beat, effectively calming herself before she was swept away on the wave of madness that threatened to ruin her.

She opened her eyes after a moment, allowing herself to take in the sights and smells, sounds and the feel of everything around her. Slowly she acclimated herself to everything again, taking time to come back to herself before her breakdown. She had to gain control or else she would be of no use to Slack when he needed her most. She could not afford that, not when there was something she could do. She took a deep breath, feeling the shakes slowly cease, and looked again at the doors of the police station, Slack's angry face thankfully absent.

Slowly, she started for the door and her stubborn charge inside.

She opened the door to the station and stepped inside, positioning herself to the right for anyone else coming in after her. Her eyes took in the happenings inside, from detectives delivering suspects for statements to secretaries busily click-clacking away on their typewriters. The station wasn't unexpectedly busy today, which she assumed was a good thing. If Slack were to cause a scene upon seeing her, it was best to do it in front of as small a crowd as possible.

Her eyes found the glass-paneled door that led to Slack's office. Memories flashed through her mind of the day that she had fought and beaten the raging uncle of little Ruby Hambledon. She remembered the feel of hands pulling her to safety from beneath the giant and into a pair of strong arms to deposit her on the small couch for the doctor to inspect. It wasn't until Lake had recapped the events that Anya had known that the arms had belonged to Slack and that he had been the one to save her.

Those memories sparked a warmth that spread throughout her body, brightening her mood and her outlook on the events about to take place. Eventually that door would open and she would be staring into the eyes of the man who had caused her so much pain by keeping his distance from her.

The man she loved.

Desperately, she tried to remember all of the highlights of their time together to keep her good feeling going and her confidence growing. She remembered the first time they had met, when dear Aunt Jane had helped her find the police station and the man she had sworn to protect inside. He hadn't listened to her story for five minutes before he threw her out, not believing a single word she said.

She hadn't let things drop there, however. She had followed him to a crime scene and had scared the life out of poor Lake in the process of forcing her help onto the Inspector. Since that agreement, their time together had only increased, and so had the bond that had been forged when she gave her oath in Heaven. They had been through some trials where she was forced to take her vow into account and save him from others, such as the woman Judith when Anya had figured out that she was a murderer, and Uncle Harry in his office, though Slack had come to her aid in the end.

She thought back to their first pitfall, when Slack had cancelled the tea date with her and Aunt Jane so suddenly, and how she had childishly run off and then refused to take his help after he and poor Lake had given much of their time to search desperately for her. She had matured a little after coming to terms with her faults that night and thought longingly of the new tea date that had been set where she had given her apologies and Aunt Jane had in turn solved the torturing case.

One particular thing about that day stuck out in Anya's mind as she stood alarmingly still within the station. She had been pouring everyone tea and when she had gotten to Slack's their fingers had brushed, bringing their eyes together for a time. That brief contact had sparked something deep within the both of them. Perhaps it was the first time they each considered the fact that one loved the other.

A sudden movement startled her from her thoughts. Her eyes found the door to Slack's office opening, the man himself stepping out with Lake and speaking wearily as the Sergeant jotted down notes on the small notebook he always kept on his person. Anya could do nothing but stare, her body frozen in place by this unexpected development. A part of her hadn't thought that he was actually in there. Maybe she had been unconsciously hoping he wouldn't be in the station at all so that she could continue to avoid the inevitable confrontation.

He looked pale, the fever taxing his body exponentially. He shouldn't even be at work, she mused, but at home and in bed resting while his body battled whatever it was that was making him sick. He was not doing anyone a favor by pushing himself.

Her mind vaguely took in the opening of the front door behind her, a small gust of wind tossing strands of hair over her shoulder. Suddenly Slack's eyes were turning toward her, caught by the movement of the door, and locked on her. His eyes widened, his mouth opening and he gaped at her like a fish out of water. She must have looked just as silly staring back at him with a dumbfounded expression on her face.

A body brushed past hers, knocking her shoulder and breaking the spell that held her. That moment was enough for her to gather her wits and turn a smoldering glare on the person who had so carelessly shoved her. The brunette woman paid her no mind as her face lit up in a smile, her hand lifting in a wave.

"Oh, Johnny! I'm home!" Anya followed the woman's gaze and found the baffled eyes of Slack gawking back at the woman, completely forgetting Anya in that instant for this mystery person who suddenly had his undivided attention. The room went suddenly quiet as everyone's attention settled on the two staring at one another, lost in their own world. Anya watched as Slack swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down nervously.

"Sarah?" he whispered, his voice carrying across the still room. Anya's breath caught in her throat. Could she be-? She stopped, staring once again between the two of them.

The brunette laughed, the sound grating on Anya's nerves like the cackle of an old woman up to no good. She winced slightly and stared helplessly as the woman raced toward Slack.

Lake backed up quickly, almost as if afraid of the laughing brunette. His eyes turned and found Anya and his shoulders drooped at her dismay. The poor girl. The Sergeant had had no idea that the Inspector's ex-fiancé was in town, and neither had Slack, he reasoned at the astonishment still registered on the man's face.

The woman named Sarah jumped into Slack's arms, nearly knocking him over in his weakened state. Anya reached a hand out unconsciously in front of her as if to steady him, tears jumping to her eyes as the understanding of these events slowly unfolded in front of her. This woman…she must be the one that Aunt Jane had told her of, the fiancé that had broken the poor Inspector's heart just a few years before Anya had come along.

Her body felt numb as she stood foolishly in her place as this strange woman laughed and held onto the man that Anya loved. What should she do? Clearly Slack was still unwell as he could barely keep his feet beneath the added weight of this woman hanging all over him, completely clueless that the man was ill.

Anya felt a slow anger begin burning deep in her chest. What could she do? She had come all this way to repair things with Slack and take him home to care for him. Her thoughts had not included this old flame of his, of course, and she could feel her jealousy burning within the pit of her stomach, warming her considerably. Her tears disappeared with her sudden flare of temper. How dare she make an appearance after what she had done to him? Anya's voice raged within her mind like a roaring tiger. How could this woman be so callous as to come back into Slack's life after having hurt him so badly and, from the looks of it, expect everything to be fine?

"Sarah, what are you doing here?" Slack was clearly uncomfortable with how his morning had begun, first seeing one woman he still held mixed feelings for and then another who had shattered his life just two years ago. He was confused by all the happenings, not knowing which way to turn or who to look at first. Here was Anya obviously come to torture him some more by attempting to mend the rift between them, and now Sarah had shown up from nowhere to seemingly pick up where they had left off, as if she hadn't run off with another man and torn his heart to pieces. Slack just didn't know what to do, and the strain of his confusion was causing his weakness to increase tenfold as the headache he had had all morning grew worse and the fever steadily consumed the last of his reserves.

Anya watched in horror as he seemed to crumple to the floor in slow motion, his body fighting to keep itself upright. The woman Sarah was calling his name, asking what was wrong, why was he falling, Johnny, are you all right? The fever burning throughout him was more than Anya could take as the heat he felt in himself radiated like small rivers of fire coursing through her veins as well, her body sweaty and uncomfortable as she struggled to shut off her senses to keep herself on her own two feet. She had to help him before he became too sick for anyone to cure!

"Lake!" Anya called desperately as she started toward the Inspector just when his knees hit the floor with a jolt. The Sergeant was there immediately, gently pushing the other woman away as her questions turned to yells as she demanded to know what was wrong with her Johnny. Anya brushed the hysterical woman aside as she kneeled down and took Slack's shoulders gently in her hands as Lake looked on, eyes wide with worry. Slack's head rolled to the side and came to rest on Anya as he mumbled something incoherent. She looked up to find the Sergeant's eyes glued to her, waiting for an order.

"He needs to be taken home and put into bed straight away, Lake. He needs lots of water and medicine to help calm his fever. If we can't bring it down soon, it could turn deadly," she warned sternly. He nodded fervently as he struggled back to his feet.

"The car's out front. I'll drive you both to his place." Anya nodded, a small smile of thanks on her lips for a moment before she turned her attention back to the groaning man in her arms, his body shaking with chills as the fever seemed to both suck the heat from him and absorb as much as it could to fight whatever it was that had decided to attack his immune system. The fever he had was hotter than anything Anya had ever known, and her medical knowledge was expansive thanks to her mother. A fever was beneficial to the body whilst fighting off sickness, she knew, but an extremely high fever, if left alone without the proper fluids and treatment, could become life-threatening. She couldn't let that happen.

"Come on, Slack, let's get you back home and to bed," she said soothingly as she took him under the arms and, with Lake's help, hauled him to his feet. She pulled one of his arms around her shoulder and looped an arm around his waist to steady him, Lake following her example to even the burden.

Just as they started for the front door Sarah seemed to gather her wits and stepped in front of the trio, hands on her hips. "Just where do you think you're going? I'll be the one to take him back to his house and care for him! And who are you, anyway? You certainly don't look like any constable I've ever seen before," she sniffed, moving to take Slack's arm from Anya. The angel stepped back and away from her almost casually as she tried to keep her tone civil for a reply.

"I am not a constable, miss. I am a psychiatrist and a friend of Slack's. We'll do fine to take him there ourselves. We'll let you know how he's doing once we have him settled," she said, keeping her tone officious as if she were in charge.

"You just want him for yourself, don't you? You stupid woman! He's my man and I'll be the one to take care of him!" Sarah's hand came out of nowhere and slapped Anya hard across the face, whipping her head to the side and nearly knocking the angel off balance. Two hands grabbed Slack's arm from around the angel's shoulder and tugged it viciously away as the girl staggered back, head ringing from the impromptu slap.

She watched, eyes watering as the haughty woman took her place beside Slack and, with a bewildered Lake looking on, promptly started for the door, nearly dragging the Sergeant along behind her. He looked back quickly, as if afraid that if he cooperated he would feel Anya's wrath. She shook her head and waved him on as her other hand massaged her cheek, the stinging gradually fading. It would not do for her to begin a fight here in the police station, even if her hand was itching to return the slap given her. Slack's health was too important at the moment. She could not waste valuable time easing her bruised ego while he suffered.

She followed the trio slowly, her eyes piercing Sarah's back as the woman led the listless Inspector and his unwilling Sergeant from the station to the car that Lake directed her to. She stopped at the glass door and watched as the two maneuvered Slack into the back seat, Lake surprisingly more careful in his handling of Slack's limp body than his so-called ex-fiance as she hustled in to sit beside him, waving off the affronted Sergeant. Lake turned to look at Anya again with a silent plea in his eyes. Did he really have to leave Slack in the care of this woman? Anya nodded her consent slowly, giving the distraught Sergeant a small smile to reassure him that what he was doing was fine.

She may not be the one to care for Slack now, but she would take care to keep herself in the loop at all times with his treatment. She did not want this woman near Slack, and especially not caring for him while he was ill and helpless, but what choice did she have? She couldn't very well argue with the woman or fight her for him. After all, Slack was still angry with Anya since she had not had the chance to mend their relationship before his old flame had rushed back into his life. No, let the woman think that she had won for now.

Sooner or later Anya would prove her own worth to the Inspector and help him to realize his feelings for her. Anya was not a bully and did not revel in the pain of others, but she found herself hoping that this woman's incompetence could be shown to Slack in time for him to come to terms with how his life could be with Anya and no one else. Then they would see who came out on top.

That would be ample pay back for the slap, Anya reasoned.

Lake got in the car slowly, reluctant to be driving this horrid woman to Slack's place and even more reluctant to leave the man in her care. But he trusted Anya, and knew instinctively that she would not abandon the Inspector just like that. He knew she loved him, and knew also that Slack had feelings for Anya as well. He just hoped that the sudden arrival of Sarah did not ruin things for the both of them in the long run. He looked back once to the angel, seeing her hand drop from her face as the stinging from the slap receded. She flashed a smile at him once more and winked, motioning him onward. I will take care of this, don't worry, her look said to him.

The sudden shrieking for him to move it from the woman in the back made him jump and start the car rather violently. He pulled out from his spot and raced away from the police station and the beautiful young woman looking on from the front door.

As soon as the car was lost from view, Anya turned and walked back through the police station, finding the bathing room for women. She would shift in there and fly to Aunt Jane's place. She must tell the old woman what had happened and think of her next plan of action.

Stars twinkled brightly on that moonless night. A stargazer would have been dazzled as a large shadow blotted out the stars for a moment before it moved on, heedless of others as it raced through the sky toward its destination. To the untrained eye it would have looked like a massive bird, soaring through the sky on the hunt for something specific. And very eager to move quickly toward whatever goal it had in mind.

Anya flew as fast as she could to Slack's home. Aunt Jane had been kind enough to find out the Inspector's address through her connection with the police. When Anya had come back and told her everything, Aunt Jane had been adamant about Anya going to Slack's place that night to make sure that he was receiving the proper care that he needed from his monster of an ex-fiance.

"She cannot be trusted, my dear. She is a gold-digger, interested only in the next man who has money. The only reason why she has come back is for money. For all we know she could leave the poor Inspector to die in his bed while she spends whatever funds he has saved up before moving on to her next target. Oh my dear, you must take care of him yourself. But since there is no way we can get her out of that house, you shall have to care for him at night while she is sleeping."

And so Anya had set out from Aunt Jane's house as soon as the sun had completed its setting ritual and the land was blanketed in darkness. Now she passed over darkened homes and the occasional car driving beneath her was the only thing to send pin-points of light through the night as she flew in the earth's perfect cover. She thought of her situation as she flew, wondering if Aunt Jane was indeed right in thinking that Sarah was back only for money and would leave as soon as she found a better offer than what Slack had to give.

The familiar burning sensation spread throughout her chest as her anger deepened with her thoughts. She could not let this woman hurt Slack again! She had to be there for him if or when this woman decided to take her leave once more. She just hoped that he wouldn't fall back in love with her before she had a chance to leave again. Could he again love the woman who had so broken him once before? Certainly it was not an impossibility. And that was precisely what frightened the angel.

Suddenly Anya was passing over the old red barn Aunt Jane had told her was by the Inspector's home, and she slowed her flight, lowering herself slowly to the ground as the small house came into view, the windows dark. No sound came from within, reassuring the angel that both occupants were more than likely asleep.

She made her way to the front door, stepping through it easily in her translucent form, and stood still in the front hall, listening for the faintest of movements. Soft snoring up the short stairwell alerted her to the woman Sarah. She could not hear anything from Slack. She stepped forward cautiously, keeping her form to prevent her from knocking anything over in the darkness. She had to find a candle or something and then make her way to the kitchen. She doubted that Sarah had left Slack any access to water, and so would make sure he had at least one glass before she left that night.

Earlier that day she had bought and made a tincture out of hollyhock, the herb her mother had told her of once that was a natural fever reducer. If she could get Slack to drink that and then help him further by infusing her healing energy, she was sure she could break his fever within a day or so.

She found the kitchen with relative ease and set to taking down a large glass and filling it with water before setting to work finding a candle to find her way around the house. As she bustled in the kitchen she stopped a couple of times to listen for the continued snores from upstairs, convinced at times that they had ceased.

After successfully finding a sad, stubby little candle along with a few matches, her eyes looked up to find the dusty, small window situated over the wide sink allowing the cook who used this kitchen during the day to see into the back yard of the house. From what she could make out, it was a rather neat lawn. The housekeeper must tend it, she thought. Slack would never have enough time to do such a thing with his profession. Nor did he seem much the gardening type.

She lit the candle then, stealing from the kitchen. She started quickly for the stairs, her footsteps as light as possible as she struggled to keep hot wax from dripping onto her fingers in one hand and the water from spilling in the other. She ascended the steps slowly, thankfully hearing only soft creaks from them. She gained the landing and held the candle out, illuminating the few rooms at the top of the stairs. The snores from Sarah came from the room directly in front of Anya, and so she walked by that one and opened the door next to it, peering through it to find another bedroom, the bed holding the occupant she was looking for.

At least Sarah was not sleeping in the same room as Slack, she thought with relief as she hurried inside, closing the door gently behind her. Slack made little noise from the bed, but she could hear his teeth chattering at times as his body still fought the fever. She hurried to his side and set aside the water and candle before bending to put a hand against his forehead, feeling his face drenched with sweat. She searched frantically around the room and on a short dresser found a wash basin still full of water with a still-damp wash cloth hanging over its side. She wet the cloth and wrung it out, moving back to place it on his forehead in an effort to bring him some relief. She found a chair in the far corner of the room and carried it to the side of the bed so that she could sit in comfort and wipe him down. After that she would wake him and give him the water and tincture before leaving him in peace.

Softly she wiped his face and neck area down with the cloth, watching as his body shivered from the contact of the cold water with his burning skin. He groaned and stirred when she stopped and she saw his eyes open. He blinked his eyes slowly before turning them to look at her, scrunching in the dimness of the candlelight in an effort to make her out. She smiled and took the cloth from him, placing it on the nightstand by his head for later use.

"Hello. I'm sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances, but it was your decision to go to work when you knew you were sick," she reprimanded gently as she turned to take up the glass. "Can you sit up? Drink this, it'll help keep you hydrated. I have a tincture that will help with your fever as well," she said. He still stared, not quite comphrehending who she was.

"Sarah? Is that you? I didn't think you'd come back to me. It's been so long...Why did you come back? Do you still love me after all?" Tears suddenly jumped to her eyes of their own accord. He sounded so weak and miserable, a man once madly in love with this woman and who had been indescribably hurt by her. Now, he sounded desperate to know the reason why she had come back. He needed to hear that she had come to fix things, to start anew, not because she was a gold-digger who only needed him at the moment because she was strapped for money.

What should she do? Should she crush his hopes by telling him what the woman he loved really was? Or should she keep quiet and pretend that she was this Sarah of his and leave him in peace until he was better? She managed a smile and patted his arm gently, her heart aching at her decision.

"It's all right, Johnny. I'm back now. I won't go anywhere ever again. Now, sit up for me and drink this water. I promise it'll help you get better. Come on now," she cooed as she helped him sit up against the bedframe, piling pillows behind him to make him more comfortable. She reached back for the glass, and when she looked back at him again he was smiling, a genuinely content smile. Her chest contracted and her breath hitched for a moment. Never had she seen such an expression of happiness on his face before. Not even when he had looked at her.

He took the water without complaint and drank a bit in an effort to please her. Once he was finished he handed the glass back with another smile. When she replaced it on the nightstand she grabbed the wash cloth and turned back to wipe his face off again. He grabbed her wrists gently and suddenly pulled her forward, holding her against his chest with all the strength he could muster. She gasped slightly at this sudden advancement, but felt herself slowly relax into his arms, knowing it was wrong. She shouldn't let this go any further than it was, knowing that it would hurt and yet not caring in that moment.

She felt her arms move on their own and wrap themselves around his hot body, holding him with a fierceness she could not contain. Oh, how she wanted to be in his arms like this! If only they could stay like this forever, and he could suddenly forget about Sarah and his past with her. If only he did not think she was someone else!

"I still love you, Sarah. Thank you for coming back. You don't know how much this means to me, having you here again. Please, don't ever go away. Stay with me forever and make me the happiest man on earth. Please tell me you'll stay." With tears now coursing down her face she nodded into his chest, unable to speak in the tumult of emotions that were swirling through her. How could she be so cruel to him like this? How could she stay here and promise something that she wished would never happen?

She gathered her wits quickly and pulled away from him gently, wiping her eyes of her tears. She eased the confusion on his face with a quick smile. "Here, take this tincture and then I'll let you sleep. You need lots of rest. I'll leave this water by your bed and whenever you wake you should drink some. I'll check on you again later, all right?" He nodded in acquiescence. She pulled the spoon and tincture bottle from her pocket and measured out the amount needed. He took it without complaint before maneuvering himself down under the covers again obediently.

She wiped his face down again quickly with the wash cloth and then folded and laid it gently across his forehead. He took hold of one of her hands before she could pull away. "Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?" he asked, his voice already betraying the fatigue that was gripping him. She smiled and patted his hand.

"Yes, of course," she whispered. He gave her another radiant smile and lay back, closing his eyes, his hand still holding hers. Her tears began anew and she let them fall silently as she stared at his face, so serene now that his beloved sat beside him. Unfortunately, she was the wrong beloved.

Oh, what had she done? Now whenever she came she had to pretend she was that horrid woman come to take care of him! Perhaps he would figure out the differences of his caretakers after a while, but for now the fever had left his senses rather shoddy.

She sighed in resignation, her tears fianlly coming to an end as his breathing steadied and he fell fast asleep. His hand loosened and she pulled hers from his grip slowly in an effort not to wake him. She would do her energy work quickly and then leave. She didn't think she could bear to be in the same room as him now that she had betrayed him. She would not abandon him, though. Even though she took up this charade, she would not give in to her grief and leave him to save herself pain. This was something she must do for a time to keep the peace. Who knew what he would do if he realized it was Anya come to heal him in the night, the woman who had caused him grief not two months ago? No, she was better off with this mask until he was well again, at least.

Silently, she set to her energy work, infusing him with wamr, soothing energy that would not make him uncomfortable. She hoped that with these continued treatments of both the energy and tincture, this fever would decline quickly and then they would see about what had caused such a reaction in him.

As soon as she was done she stood and replaced the chair in the corner, erasing most of the evidence that she had ever been there. She left the glass of water and cloth on his forehead and, with a last longing look at his peaceful face, she spread her wings and took flight from the room to come back the next night and repeat the process.

It took three more nights of Anya's continued attentions toward Slack for his fever to finally come down to a normal level and, from there, to taper off and finally break, giving him relief from its incessant burning.

Anya had been there the night his fever had finally died off for good. She had given him his tincture and was setting him up for sleep again so that she could perform his energy work when suddenly he gasped and his eyes sprang open, causing Anya to jump nearly out of her chair. She stared at him, wondering what on earth had happened, when he suddenly turned his eyes toward her and she saw the light of recognition in his eyes for the first time.

"Anya?" His eyes scrunched up in confusion, wondering why she of all people was there and so late at night. He looked around as if unaware of his surroundings. "Where are we? Did I fall asleep at the station?" he asked, his voice reflecting his usual brusque manner. "I had a strange dream that someone I knew long ago came back." He shook his head as if trying to clear it. "But that's impossible." Anya's heart was galloping in her chest as she realized what had happened. She stood quickly, Slack's eyes darting back to see what she moving for.

"I'm sorry, Slack, but I must be going now. You need some sleep, even though your fever's broken. You've been sick this past week and the fever's been terrible. It's no small wonder you can't remember much, but that's all right. You go to sleep," she said, turning to grab the chair to replace it in the corner of the room again.

"Anya, wait!" Slack grabbed her arm and stopped her, staring as she stood shaking in her spot. "I've been sick, you say? No wonder I feel awful. But wait, aren't we in my office? I thought-" He looked around again and his eyes widened. "No, this is my house." His eyes darted back to her again. "Why are you in my house?" he demanded then, letting go of her arm. She gasped in rage and whirled on him.

"This is the thanks I get? Four nights of sneaking in here to treat you, and this is what I get? Well you're welcome! I only saved your life, Slack!" she snapped, her voice suddenly louder than she meant it to be. He stared at her, bewildered, and the guilt hit her in a flash just as noises in the bedroom next to her started.

"What is going on in there?" Anya heard the enraged voice of Sarah as the woman hurried into Slack's room, staring first from Anya where she stood and then to Slack.

"Sarah?" Slack's surprise was the same as when he had first seen the woman in the station days earlier. He must really not remember much, Anya thought.

"Johnny? You're feeling better, I see." Was that disappointment Anya heard in the brunette's voice? Sarah's attention turned back to the angel and her eyes flashed. "You're that bimbo from before! What are you doing here? What are you doing to my Johnny?" she yelled, fingers bent in a clawing position as if she meant to scratch the eye balls from Anya's head. Anya's anger took hold of her in that instant and she could feel the spreading of her wings in a threatening fashion as she yelled back at the irrational woman.

"I was bringing him back to health, thank you very much. Unlike you! If I hadn't have been here, he would have died from that fever! I as his guardian cannot let something like that happen, so I've been coming here at night and treating him while you were asleep." She turned then to the shocked Slack, emotions parading across his face as he fought to understand what all was going on. "You're fine now, Slack. I don't have to worry about you anymore. Goodbye." Her eyes flashed to the brunette woman and Sarah flinched back as if struck at the fury in the angel's brilliant blue eyes.

"And you have better not do anything to hurt him, Sarah, or I'll be back and you will feel the full extent of my wrath." Sarah started shaking in her rage and raised a fist as if to strike the angel when suddenly the blonde disappeared in front of her! She gasped and looked around, but there was no trace of the woman, as if she had just vanished into thin air in that instant! She stared at Slack but he was looking at the place where the blonde had stood, a brooding expression on his face.

Here it is, uploaded at last! Tell me what you think in a review!