Angel and Spike were trotting over the manoeuvring area of the airport towards the hangar where their private plane was waiting. The bitch black of the night sky had turned to an intense dark blue which was slowly fading to ultramarine, but neither of the two men paid any attention to it. Their little trip had certainly been a disappointment. If anyone wanted to verify the way in which Murphy's law operated on a daily basis their trip to Rome would have been a perfect example. Besides receiving their fair share of beatings in a couple of fistfights, they had also been tricked, ridiculed and on top of that blown up. The latter had resulted in the destruction of Spike's beloved leather duster, which had been a faithful companion for over 30 years… Not to forget that they didn't get what they had come for: the demon head.

They entered the plane an slumped down in their respective seats without taking a look around. All they cared about momentarily was getting home as soon as quickly. Home, where they still had the upper hand and they didn't make fools of themselves. Had they looked around, they would have noticed the young woman comfortably sitting in one of those bolstered leather seats with a huge bag on her lap.

"Tough night?" she said with a sadistic grin on her face, savouring the reaction her unexpected appearance evoked.

Angel flinched slightly, then glared at Spike accusingly like an angry father would do with his child who had gotten himself into trouble despite all well-meaning paternal advise. If he only knew she had taken the Wolfram & Hart's other company plane to get her. She would save that bit information for later. Spike's reaction, on the other hand, was that of pure shock. His eyes protruded comically, while he was gaping for air he didn't need. She enjoyed seeing the look on his face. He deserved feeling like that after what he had done to her.

"You?" he finally managed to get out unintelligently.

"Yes, it's me. Yes, I'm mad as hell and yes, that's the demon head you've been looking for," she shoved the bag into Angel's hands and stormed off to sit down a few rows away from the two vampires. Lisa didn't care much for talking to Spike right now. She'd probably try to stake him or worse. There were certain things a necromancer could do to a vampire…

Ere she could trail further down that gruesome line of thought her musings were interrupted. "Pet!..." Lisa heard him call out. He had already started walking in her direction.

"I don't want to talk to you right now. I might say some things I'll regret later," her voice grew fainter and sounded much more vulnerable, when she uttered the next words, "You've hurt me."

From the expression on his face she could tell he had heard her words. It was a mixture of helplessness and anger, maybe it was directed against him, maybe against her. She didn't care. Due to the lack of sleep, she hadn't rested in the last 48 hours, everything was comfortably wrapped in a blanked of callousness with anger stuffed underneath that only emerged when she was provoked, the rest of the time she was too exhausted to really feel anything at all.

"Just go and sit with Angel. We'll talk back home….eventually," Lisa said tiredly. Spike turned around reluctantly, not without throwing a last look over his shoulder ere he walked back to his seat.

When Lisa awoke she felt slightly disorientated. Where was she? This was not Wolfram & Hart's plane. She was lying in a bed. It felt familiar – at home? The young woman briefly opened her eyes and found her suspicion verified. She was indeed lying in her own bed, but how had she come here? That question was as quickly answered as the first one. Her gaze fell on a pair of dirty boots that were stretched on the carpet beside her bed, their owner sat on a chair next to her bed and was stark asleep. When she looked at him she felt a paradoxmixture of anger and tenderness, the amount of anger was, of course, disproportionately larger than that of tenderness. Luckily he had had the decency not to undress her or else he would have increased her wrath. Smart boy!

Lisa sat up in bed and turned towards him. "Wake up." No reaction. "Wake up!" she raised her voice so that she almost screamed. Finally a reaction. His head shot up, he looked around frantically as if scanning the room for an unexpected intruder, when he saw it was just her and calmed immediately.

"I didn't ask you to carry me here," Lisa stated simply, "If I recall correctly I wanted to be left alone."

"I didn't want to wake you. You looked like you needed a nap," Spike replied simply.

Now what was that supposed to mean? Was this is gentlemanly way of saying that she had looked like crap, so he let her sleep in the hope she got better soon? She let out an angry huff, but refrained from making any comment.

"Pet…," he stretched out his hand to caress her check, but she recoiled from his touch. The hurt in his eyes didn't satisfy her in anyway. It just left her with a cold feeling in her stomach and knots in her throat.

"Look, I just wanted to…," he started softly.

"Don't you dare apologize to me right now!" her voice slightly quivered with suppressed rage. "An apology won't be enough this time. You don't know how it felt learning from…Harmony of all people that you had simply hopped on a plane to Rome without telling me….Because of Buffy."

"I didn't think…I just…," his words just ebbed away. His eyes focused on her, then wandered here and there, unable to hold her gaze.

"Did you find what you were looking for there?" she asked him sadly.

"No," Spike ran his hand through his hair exasperatedly. He didn't want to argue. He just wanted to tell her how much he loved, that he had realized the thing with Buffy belonged to the past, but he couldn't. Not right now! Not when she was so furious. He suddenly couldn't stand sitting down anymore. He jumped to his feet and started pacing.

No? What the hell was that supposed to me. Was that even an answer. Lisa chest was rising and falling in rapid intervals, her cheeks were slightly flushed. She was somewhere between crying and screaming. Her heart was beating inside her chest like a war drum – she could even hear the blood rushing in her ears. She kicked back the comforter with an angry movement and got to her feet as well. Now they were on eye level again.

Lisa ragged her brain for the right words to say, but unfortunately they wouldn't come. As she was incapable of voicing her thoughts or saying what it exactly was she expected from him, she realized that it was rather senseless to continue the discussion. "I'm sorry, but I just can't do this right now," she looked at him in exasperation.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked looking at her in a mixture of defiance and vulnerability.

She hesitated, "We could talk later…tonight? If that's alright with you."

"Okay," Spike answered finally. He grabbed his duster and started walking towards the door.

When he had left, Lisa simply stood there for a while. Her eyes focused on some point on the wall. Somehow she felt empty- as empty as pumpkin that had been carved out for Halloween. She probably looked just as scary, but this was no time to be concerned about outward appearances.

Her throat felt dry. As if running on automatic she started making her way from her bedroomto the kitchen to get something to drink. On the way there bare feet stumbled over something plastic. As she looked down she noticed a videogame that lay carelessly discarded on the floor. Lisa picked it up and looked at it in strange fascination. Then the memories started rushing back:

She hated hospitals with a passion that was almost unnatural. Of course, everybody did, but nevertheless every time she went there, she felt as if she needed to puke. There was only one occasion on which it was a nice experience going to a hospital – a birth(preferable of someone else's child, mind you, because she suspected it was rather painful), but that was it period. Otherwise it was all about sickness and death, the stench of disinfectant hovering through the corridors, old people in wheelchairs, cranky looking nurses.

Luckily this was Wolfram & Hart's own little private infirmary, so visitors were spared most of the usual hospital atmosphere. Still she felt uneasy about coming here. Fred's brief call during which she had only learned that Spike had been injured, but not what had exactly happened, hadn't actually inspired her with feelings of inner calm. She was nervous and worried. What corridor was it she was supposed to go to again?

She finally arrived at the right door. Or at least she guessed it was the right door, since Angel was just stepping out of it. "How is he?" she asked impatiently.

"Unusually pensive," Angel answered and merited her with a brief, but encouraging smile. "But the usual pain in the ass," he added in an afterthought.

"So that means I can go in?" her hand was already resting on the doorknob.

"Yes, go ahead," he motioned her to enter, ere he turned to walk down the corridor.

She gave the doorknob a determined twist and stepped inside. Lisa was not prepared for the picture that awaited her inside. Spikes hands were completely wrapped in bandages and he looked uncharacteristically pale, as if he had sustained excessive blood loss. There were all sorts of machines that either were lighting up every other second and making peeping noises. The transfusion beside his bed was slowly dripping a fluid into the tube that ended in his left forearm. He seemed a lot smaller, less self-confident - strangely fragile. She gulped heavily and couldn't bring herself to move for a couple of seconds. He saw her standing in the doorframe motionlessly and threw her an apologetic grin, as if to say, 'I didn't plan on that to happen.'

Lisa finally overcame her daze and walked up to his bedside. She reached out to touch him, her hand briefly hovered over his before she realized that it probably wasn't such a clever idea, so she hesitantly laid it on his shoulder instead and leaned in to kiss him quickly on the forehead.

"You're determined on giving me a hard time, eh? I'm already trying to get used to you getting your fair share of bruises on a weekly basis, but this is…this is kind of hard to digest," she gave him a sad smile.

"I know, pet. I just didn't expect the bint to be so eager to get a piece of me…actually two pieces," he tried to handle the situation with humour, though this experience had been one of the worst of his life. Losing his hands…he didn't knew if he had been able to put up with that. When he had looked at the two bleeding stumps where once his hands had been, it had felt like his mind congealed in shock. Useless…that was the word that repeated over and over in his thoughts. Luckily Fred's team had been able to patch him up.

"Does that mean she actually…," Lisa's voice died away, the thought was too terrible to be spoken out aloud.

"Yup," he raised his chin stubbornly.

Her lower lip slightly quivered, but she didn't allow her emotions to overcome her. The situation was already bad, she didn't want to make it worse for him by crying. "I'm sorry," she finally said, her voice hoarse and slightly shaky.

"I'll be okay," Spike told her reassuringly. "Fred says I'll heal up completely. The feeling will return after a while, I'll just have to do some exercises to make sure I regain full mobility." When he looked at her he saw the sadness shining in her eyes, though it didn't show on her face. She was trying to be brave for him and he suddenly felt angry for not even being able to take her hands or caress her. He glared down at his bandaged hands hostilely.

"Hey," Lisa carefully sat down at the edge of his bed and lifted his chin with her hand, her touch was tender and reassuring. " You'll be okay. We'll get trough this," she told him.

"Guess so," he gave her a weak smile.

"Besides you just qualified for your own private nurse who will take care of you 24/7. If that isn't something...," she tried to cheer him up.

"Who did you have in mind?" he asked innocently.

"Seems like you're already feeling better, " she cocked her head ( a mannerism she had picked up from him) and looked at him with a hint of amusement sparkling in her eyes.

"Yes, ever since you walked in," Spike answered truthfully.

Lisa scooted closer and hugged him, careful not to touch his injured hands, "I always feel better when I'm with you." After she let go her eyes were kind of watery, she quickly blinked to suppress her tears.

"What kind of exercises did Fred have in mind anyways?"

"Don't know," he shrugged his shoulders. "Something like squeezing somebloodyhand grips… science girlwasn't all that specific about it. Probably doesn't know herself, since vampire medicine isn't her area of expertise, not thatwas anybody's."

"Hmmm, what about we try something unorthodox like a gaming console?"

Lisa put the game down, careful to lay it on the spot from where she had picked it up like a relic.