The shrill ring of the phone in the other wise still house jolted Willow out of the light rest she had settled into. She rubbed her eyes and simultaneously reached for the phone, knowing Faith would worry if she didn't answer. Her eyes settled briefly on a clock, noticing it wasn't quite nine in the morning.

"'ello'" she croaked, her voice hoarse with sleep.

"Hello? Who is this?" A voice that was quite definitely not Faith's questioned.

"Whose do you mean what's this called here?" Willow's normally endearing lack of sense-making was even further distorted into incoherent babbling by her muddled state.

"I'm sorry," the pleasant male voice laughed, "I think I have the wrong number."

"Ok, bye." She hung up the phone and had taken a step towards the kitchen in search of caffeine when the phone sounded again. She hesitantly put it to her ear.

"Hello?"

She had the awful feeling this was going to turn into a long morning.

"It's still the wrong number," she sighed, starting to feel more awake.

"Is there a Matt Hardy there by any chance?" The name worked as well as any mocha latte in springing her eyes wide open as she glanced to her motionless companion.

"Yes…" she answered truthfully, sensing that any lie would only further arouse the man's suspicions.

"Can I speak to him?"

"He's… not available right now. Maybe you could try again later?"

"Yeah… um, who are you?"

"I'm Mr. Hardy's personal secretary." She crossed her fingers, hoping he'd believe the lie. She was a terrible actress, but she didn't have time to deal with any more complications.

"Matt doesn't have a personal secretary. He barely uses the one the company provides as it is." The line was silent as she tried to think of a plausible explanation, but was saved before it became necessary. "Oh, I get it. That bastard, no wonder he was in such a hurry to leave last night." The man laughed again, and in another situation she might have found herself growing to like the apparently easy-going guy. As it was though, she was merely confused.

"What?"

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what a girl is doing answering his phone this early in the morning." She got the distinct impression that had the mysterious man on the other end of the phone been there with her, he'd be subjecting her to a series of 'nudge nudge- wink wink's.

"You think I'm his girlfriend? Oh! Yup, I am. You caught me. You sure are smart." She rolled her eyes at her horrid acting abilities. "Yeah, so now that you know I'm his girlfriend, I can tell you that we were in the middle of having hot, wild monkey sex so now isn't such a good time. But I'll tell him you called!"

"Whoa, too much information!" Once more, the man on the other end of the line wasn't doing anything to repress his laughter. "Just make sure Matt has his pants on by noon. I've seen enough of his hairy ass in the locker rooms to last me a life time."

"Noon?"

"Yeah, didn't he tell you? Were coming over to bar-be-cue! I got to let you go now- spank him once for me." A click signaled the end of the conversation and Willow slowly placed the phone back in its cradle. Her mind was racing in its attempt to make sense of the conversation.

"Monkey sex, huh? I'm down with that."

The foreign voice intruding upon her thoughts startled her and she spun around to face her boss –now wide awake-looking much better then should be allowed for a man who had been knocked unconscious a few hours before.

"You're awake!" Her relief at seeing him looking healthy was fading fast into a blind panic.

***

He was trying to sit up in bed when pain exploded in his head. The pretty redhead whose conversation he had just overheard rushed over to hand him a glass of water and some aspirin. As the pain started to subside he found himself no less confused. The girl in front of him looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't remember from where.

Something else was wrong too.

An unfamiliar world came crashing down upon him.

"I have a question." He managed to form the simple sentence but was lost as how to ask the half formed thoughts threatening his sanity.

"I figured you might." She sat down in a wingback chair near the bed, but didn't say anything more. He was thankful for the small gesture, as it allowed him to get his mind in some sort of order.

"If you're my girlfriend- who am I?"

Admitting the problem that had been nagging him since he first woke seemed to break the damn keeping the flood of other questions at bay.

"And where am I? How did I get here? What happened?"

"Oh my goddess," the words were breathed so softly he almost questioned his hearing until she spoke again, louder. "You don't remember anything?"

He searched his mind, hard, hating the idea of disappointing her, but finally had to shake his head. He couldn't even recall his name.

She moved from the chair to the side of the bed, his condition tugging on her already susceptible heartstrings. He mistook the guilt she felt for sympathy, and allowed himself to be comforted by her presence.

"Your name is Matthew Hardy, but you go by Matt." She seemed to be battling internally for a moment, before she spoke again, "And I'm Willow."

He struggled to sit up, this time ignoring the small flare of pain in his head. He wasn't entirely successful though, and the small wince that escaped was noticed by his companion.

"I should call a doctor."

He grabbed her arm as she moved to leave.

"Can you just stay and talk to me for a while first? I feel fine- really. I mean, besides the not knowing anything part."

Willow's face showed clearly how torn she was. "I really have to go, but some friends of yours are coming over. They'll be able to take care of you."

"Willow," he tried her name out, "you can't leave me like this."

"I wish I could stay," the insane thing was that she really did, "but I need to leave."

She put on her undefeated resolve face to end the argument-

and for the first time in all her years it was ignored completely.

"Please Willow," his wide trusting eyes focused on hers, "you're all I know."