The room was spinning, colors and smells and sounds intensifying until Buffy felt as if she were trapped in a sensory hurricane. Only one object remained fixed in her blurring sight.

Angel.

Distantly, she heard Cordelia asking her if she were okay, was she going to be sick, did she want to sit down. She opened her mouth to reply, but only a moan issued, as yet another cramp twisted her intestines. She put a hand to her rebellious stomach and blinked back the flood of tears threatening to burst forth.

Angel and Cordelia exchanged a look of concern as Buffy paled to the color of snow. The vampire quickly stood, taking Buffy's arm and guiding her to his chair. "Buffy, you're ill! We should call. . . "

Buffy shook her head violently, damp tendrils of hair slipping from her French twist. "I-I-I'm. . . fine. Fine," she replied as she avoided Angel's searching gaze.

"May I be of assistance? Is the young lady ill?"

Cordelia looked up at the maitre'd, smirking inwardly at his anxiety as he glanced nervously at Buffy. "Could we have a glass of water and a wet cloth?"

He nodded tersely and headed for the kitchen.

Angel touched Buffy with trembling hands, his fingers gently tucking her wayward hair behind her ears. This wasn't going as he had hoped. He had intended to ease back into her life, much as he had when he had first met her. "Buffy, are you here alone? Is there someone we can get for you?"

Buffy shrank back from his remembered touch, even as she fought a desire to throw herself into his arms. "Uh. . . no, I'm fine. . . "

"I'm so sorry it happened like this, Buffy. I never intended to shock you like this. . . " he whispered, aware of the curious stares of the other diners. He lay his hand against her cheek, her skin clammy and cool, even to his cold flesh. Buffy winced as if his touch hurt her and he pulled away.

"Why. . . why are you here?" she asked tremulously.

"I came back for you. I love you, Buffy, and I can't. . . "

The Slayer's blonde head jerked up and she stared at him with feverish, distrustful eyes. "You came back for me? How dare you!"

The hope on Angel's face slipped and he blinked, feeling the hot well of tears behind his eyes. "Buffy, please, we need to talk. Let me explain."

Buffy jumped to her feet, swaying dizzily. Angel reached for her, but she jerked away, stumbling back into the maitre'd. The man lurched to the side, the glass of water in his hand flying from his grip to shatter on the table. Cordelia squeaked and stepped out of the way of the splashing water and glass.

"You're late!" Buffy cried, her tears spilling over in a torrent. "You're too late! I'm getting married, Angel."

"Buffy, please, let me tell . . . "

She shook her head, one hand gripping the low wall behind her. "No! You left me and now it's too late. Too fucking late."

Before Angel or Cordelia could react, Buffy ran from the restaurant, the silent eyes of every person in the room following her.

"I'm going to take Toni with me. Her internship is up in a month and I'd like for her to get one more buying trip in as experience," Joyce said as she hunted through her purse for a mint.

"Has she said whether or not she's going to go on to graduate school?" Giles replied as he glanced at his watch. It had been fifteen minutes since he had pulled the Expedition to the curb in front of the restaurant.

"Her parents want her to, but she. . . Oh, God."

Giles' head snapped up to look at Joyce's face, the tone of her voice one of surprise. She was looking over his shoulder and he followed her gaze.

Buffy was running for the truck, her face streaming with tears and one arm wrapped around her middle.

He started to get out of the truck, but she opened the back door and climbed in. "Buffy, good Lord, what happened?"

"Drive, Giles," she sobbed as she bent over.

"Honey, were you sick again? Maybe we. . ."

"Giles, please. . . "

"But, Buffy, what hap. . ."

Buffy flung her head up and fixed the librarian with a frantic, tear-drenched face. Her eyes, glittering emerald in the dim light, were filled with pain. "DRIVE, GODDAMNIT!" she screamed.

Without another word, Giles turned around and put the truck into gear and pulled away from the curb. A sudden movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Buffy's distress became crystal clear.

Standing outside the restaurant door with Cordelia Chase was Angel, Buffy's former vampire lover. The only man with the power to reduce his strong and confident Slayer to a sobbing, brokenhearted child.

Buffy curled up on the leather seat, each bump the truck hit causing her stomach to twist in agony. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.

"Giles, pull over, I'm gonna be sick."

When the Expedition had pulled onto the shoulder, Buffy crawled to the door and tumbled out. She hit the gravel on her hands and knees, feeling the flesh on her palms tear. She retched helplessly, her emptying her clenching stomach. Digging her fingers into the dusty road, she choked on the sobs building in her throat.

"Oh, honey, it's going to be okay." Joyce knelt down beside her sick daughter, smoothing her lank hair out of her eyes. "Let us take you to the Emergency Room."

"N-no. . .no hospital. . . " Buffy grunted as another wave of sickness flowed through her. She convulsed and Joyce held her as she vomited again.

Giles had found a tissue in Joyce's purse and handed it to her. "Buffy, I think you may have food poisoning. We need to get you to the hospital so you don't dehydrate."

"No! Mommy, please. . . " Buffy whined, struggling to a standing position. Joyce wiped Buffy's mouth with the tissue, then pulled her into a fierce embrace.

"You're burning up, Buffy! No arguments, now. We're going," Joyce stated, as she tried to lead her daughter to the truck.

Buffy, in her delirium, was having none of it. She broke out of Joyce's grasp and started to weave her way down the street. "Nononono. . . no hospital, not now not ever. . . "

Giles caught up with her just as Buffy's world turned black and she fainted.

"That went well."

Angel didn't answer. He leaned against the railing and stared out over the dark, still water. The moon was high in the sky now, a full, silver orb shining down on the sleepy town of Sunnydale. Briefly, he wondered what had happened to Willow's old boyfriend, Oz. A werewolf three days out of the month, he'd have to lock himself up during a full moon such as this one.

"Angel, she was just startled. Plus, I think she'd been sick, so she probably wasn't thinking too clearly." Cordelia laid a gentle hand on his arm and he turned to look at the beautiful brunette. She smiled with what was supposed to be reassurance, but the worry in the dark depths of her eyes belied that expression.

"Cordy, she can’t get married. I can't let her marry someone she doesn't love." Angel groaned and buried his face in his hands, then let them slide up into his dark hair.

"I hate to be the voice of reason here because I know how much you want Buffy back, but what if she really does love him? Ben's a nice guy, if I remember correctly, and I'm sure he treats her well." She paused as Angel shot her an angry glance. "Don't get like that, Angel. It's unproductive."

"Fuck unproductive. I want Buffy back. I will get her back."

Cordelia sighed as Angel stalked off. He was so damned obstinate sometimes, it drove her nuts. "Nothing good can come of this. I just know it. God, I hate this town!"

He had gotten into the Mercedes and was waiting for her. As she got back into the car and fastened her seatbelt, she shrugged with typical Cordelia Chase fatalism. "Okay, then. What's your plan?"

Angel smiled mirthlessly as he glanced over at the designer.

"What I did the first time. I'll make her love me again. Even if it's the last thing I do on this earth."

Buffy moaned and opened her eyes. Nausea made her senses swim with dangerous intensity, but she managed to control the urge to vomit. Not that she could have if she'd wanted to; there was nothing left in her stomach to come up except the few sips of water she was able to choke down.

The hospital room was quiet save for the light snores of her mother, dozing in a chair next to the bed. The blinds were pulled, so there was no way to tell what time it was or even if it was daylight. Sitting up, she reached for the glass of warm water on the bedside table and took a tiny sip, testing her stomach's resolve.

A faint cramp, but nothing too alarming. She took a deeper drink, wetting her parched mouth. That didn't sit too well and she briefly doubled over.

"You're awake," a soft voice said. Giles entered the room, carrying a styrofoam cup in one hand.

"Giles. I thought I said no hospital," Buffy groaned as she fell back on the pillows.

He smiled down at her, his eyes shining with affection for his Slayer and stepchild. "You were hardly in any condition to argue. Besides, the doctor said you have a definite case of food poisoning, probably brought on by the seafood dish you ate."

She sighed and smiled faintly. "It tasted okay."

"Some parasites can cause intestinal distress," he said as he sat down in an empty chair. Joyce shifted and murmured in her sleep.

"Intestinal distress. Giles, I've been puking my guts out and you call it 'intestinal distress' "

He smiled at her crass choice of words. "Speaking of which, do you need to?"

Buffy lifted her hand and laid it against her abdomen. She was surprised to see that her right one was bandaged. "I don't think so. What happened here?"

"You cut it on a broken piece of glass when you fell out of the truck."

"Oh."

They sat in companionable silence and Giles was beginning to wonder if Buffy had fallen asleep again when her voice, sounding tiny and hurt, drifted to him from the bed.

"What am I going to do, Giles?"

He looked up from his cup to see Buffy laying on her side, her fevered gaze fixed on him. He didn't need to ask to know that she was referring to Angel. He sighed, anger and sorrow warring for dominance.

"I don't know, Buffy. You have a lot of decisions to make in the coming weeks. Do you still intend to call off the wedding?"

"I don't know. I don't know what to do. He said he'd come back for me. He said it like he was so sure that I was just going to fall back in his arms. Like nothing had ever happened."

"There is still the problem of his curse."

"I know."

Giles sipped his steaming tea, wishing he had all the right words to ease her pain. Of all times for Angel to come back into her life, he had picked the most inconvenient. An unfortunate coincidence.

Or, was it?

As far as he knew, Angel still lived in Los Angeles and it wasn't farfetched to imagine that he might've heard of the upcoming society wedding. And, if he was still friends with Cordelia, her connections in Sunnydale could've conceivably offered the news.

"Don't think about it now, my dear. You're going to be released in the morning provided you haven't further dehydrated. We'll think about what to do after you've recovered."

"The shop. . . "

"I called Willow after you were admitted and she's going to open up for you."

Her eyes were starting to droop as sleep began to intrude. " 'Kay, then. Promise I can go home?"

Giles nodded and took her outstretched hand in his own, running his fingertips over her silky skin. "I promise. We'll take you home with us so Joyce can take care of you."

"Goody, I can play little girl again."

He continued to hold her hand as she fell into a deep, healing sleep. Giles drank his tea and watched over the two women in his life as dawn approached.