Willow ran to her door. Her cold fingers fumbled with the keys, half numbed from the rain that still hammered down on the roof of her porch. She got inside, slammed the door, and turned on the light. Her parents were away, travelling Asia for nine months. They wouldn't be back for another eight.

Willow let out a long sigh and leant back against the door You stupid fool! Why do you get your damn hopes up!> .Willow sighed again, and headed for her bathroom.

Spike made his way back to his crypt. His feet felt like they were made of lead. You fool! A woman likes flowers, romantic dinners, moonlit walks, not unexpected declarations of love! Poetry! She'd appreciate poetry! Just have to make sure it's not that bloody awful stuff you wrote as a mortal, so enlisting help would be a good move...think! Who'd be good at this kind of stuff...Willow! She wouldn't laugh in my face! But I think she'd still be stinging from what happened tonight...hmmm...got to make it up to her>. With these thoughts in mind, Spike hurried back to his crypt, changed into dry clothes, grabbed an umbrella, and set off to see Willow, stopping off to by some "I'm sorry" chocolates.

Willow changed into a comfy pair of sweat-pants and white t-shirt with a jade woollen cardigan. She turned the gas fire in her living room on, and settled down on the sofa with a book entitled "An Encyclopaedia of magical herbs and plants".

She started when her doorbell let out a sharp trill. Cautiously, she opened the door, to find Spike with a box of Cadbury's Dairy Milk in one hand, and a clear, dripping plastic umbrella in the other.

"Hey Red. Could I come in?" said Spike with puppy eyes.

This is why I love him. Those eyes...> "Yeah, sure. Come in Spike." Spike walked in and sat down on Willow's couch, not before removing his trademark duster to reveal a red shirt with a black T-shirt underneath.

"I, err, wanted to apologise for the way I treated you earlier. I brought you some chocolates." said Spike, handing her the box.

Willow felt her heart soar Maybe he wants me!>

Spike looked into Willow's eyes.

"I was hoping you could help me with something"

"Yeah?"

"I want to write Buffy some poetry, and I need your help" Spike blurted out.

Willow was crushed You did it again! You got your hopes up! This happened with Xander! You-will-stop-getting-hopeful! You set yourself up for disappointment! >.

"Oh...ok. I'll try." Replied Willow.

The rest of the night was pure torture for Willow. Hearing Spike talk about Buffy with a look that made his whole face soften was driving her insane. Why do I do this to myself?> .