Forgotten Times

Title: Forgotten Times
Author: Jinni (druscilla@cox.net)
Pairing: W/Matt
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: Joss and Co own BtVS/AtS. Vince and the WWE own the wrestling characters. The wrestlers own themselves, of course.
Distribution: Wrestling Fate. All others please ask first.

~*~Part One~*~

The red head walking down the quiet streets of Cameron, had bright eyes despite the fact that she kept rolling them at the person she was currently speaking to on her cell phone. She stopped to look in a store window, amazed at the old-fashioned southern style she saw every time she turned a corner.

"Yes, mom. I'm behaving myself." She snorted, continuing her trek down the street. "I promise!" She exclaimed, drawing looks from a pair of elderly women as they walked past her. Stopping dead in her tracks she frowned into the phone. "Mom. C'mon. I'm in some itty bitty town in North Carolina. Yeah, I know its not that much smaller than Sunnydale. What's your point."

She sighed, listening to her mom ramble on about all the ways she had managed to get into trouble in Sunnydale, despite the fact that it is a small town. "Mom, stop. Sheesh. I'm leaving tomorrow, after all. Aunt Isabel left this morning, after all. No point staying now."

"Okay, mom. Uh huh. I've done my family duty for the year, mom. I'm not traipsing after Aunt Isabel to go visit Cousin Dana. Yes, I know she's having a baby. All the more reason not to go."

People were staring now. This wasn't the type of conversation they usually heard walking along the street she supposed. There wasn't -much- they were used to, she figured. Such a sleepy little town. A lot like Sunnydale now that she thought about it. Except for the vast difference in lifestyles. Cameron seemed so laid back and old-fashioned. Sunnydale was just the opposite - wild and modern.

Okay - so maybe not so wild when the vampires weren't wreaking havoc around town. But still, more modern than this. Cameron was like taking a step back in time. Not to mention the adorable accents the people spoke with. Those were like something straight out of a movie about southern living.

"Mom. I need to go. I'm almost to the store." It was a lie. She was nowhere near any store she would even think of going into and she wasn't on her way to anywhere in particular anyway. She had only left the house to get some fresh air. It had been pure bad luck that her mother had called while she was walking. "See you whenever you come back to Sunnydale. Bye mom."

She hung up the cell phone, shoving it into her pocket and staring off down the street. The town was quiet, definitely the type of place that one usually only saw on television. Why in the world Aunt Isabel had decided to move here, across the country from the rest of her family, no one really understood. It hadn't been for love; in fact her aunt hadn't married until nearly three years after moving there. It was still a mystery to the rest of her family. So now Willow was doomed to have to visit the East Coast at least once every two years.

There were few people still out by the time she turned around and headed back towards her aunt's house. The sun was going was due to be setting within the hour and already things were dimming, the storefront lights coming on. Her Aunt's house would be empty when she got there; Aunt Isabel had undoubtedly landed in Los Angeles already and would be holding her daughter's hand, giving her guidance for the delivery that was becoming more and more imminent with each passing day. Tomorrow Willow would be back on a plane to Sunnydale.

Home sweet home and she was looking forward to it.

~*~

He had been driving for nearly five hours straight when he decided to stop and stretch his legs, fill up the tank on the car, and get something to eat. His trip up the east coast was progressing well. Another twenty hours of driving, maybe less, and he'd be in New York. Far from Florida and the people looking for him.

Far from the Florida police.

They were probably still looking for him in the swampy areas he supposedly liked to hide out in. Maybe at one time that had been the truth, but not now. He had changed with the times. The prostitute that he had left as his calling card only a block from the police station in that last Florida town had been enough for them to call out the dogs, the helicopters. He was a wanted man and so it was time to run for it. To New York, the city where anyone could lose themselves in an endless throng of people.

"Somethin' to eat." He muttered, staring out the dusty windows of the car he had stolen somewhere between Georgia and South Carolina. He was doing that on a regular basis. And maybe he'd do it again here. Steal a car, trash the first and hide the plates. Make things a little more difficult for the police to track him. Keep moving. It was a good plan, one that he thought would work.

He pulled into a narrow alleyway, cutting the engine of the vehicle. First things first. He was going to need some money. The streets were nearly deserted when he stepped to the mouth of the alley. He frowned. This might not have been a good idea. Hard to rob someone if there was no one around to victimize.

Then he saw her.

A bright little spot of color on the rough tan of the sidewalks. Her red hair was illuminated by the setting sun going down behind her. Small, petite. Definitely an easy mark.

And she was going to walk right past his alley.

~*~

"Thanks, Janet."

"You're welcome, Matt. Say hi to that good-lookin' brother of yours for me."

Matt Hardy threw a grin to the clerk behind the counter of the small family-owned convenience store. He hefted the small bag of milk and bread in his arms, pushing open the door. The night air was cooling, chasing away the heat and humidity of the day. It felt almost good to be out.

Almost.

He still couldn't wait to get back to the homey two story home he was currently sharing with his brother. Lita was there as well. They had four weeks of vacation time to soak up. Four weeks of not living on the road or out of suitcases. Out of those four weeks he still had three left.

And he was already bored.

Life on the road may not be too relaxing, but it was definitely more interesting. Not that he was complaining. Jeff needed the time to rest after the injuries he had suffered in their last TLC match and Matt wasn't feeling too hot himself. It would be good to just rest and recuperate. Yeah, maybe rest and relaxation wouldn't be too bad after all.

Then he heard it.

A muffled scream.

It wouldn't have been audible if there had been any more activity on the street. In fact, he hardly heard it above the sound of his sneakers on the sidewalk. But there it was again, a woman's scream. It sounded soft, as though being blocked by something. A hand maybe? There was a crash from across the street, an alleyway. One of the few in the town and dark. Good sense told him he shouldn't investigate, to just run back in to Janet and have her call the police. Suppose the person making the woman scream had a gun? There wasn't going to be much he could do.

But he never had been accused of having good sense and he wasn't going to start now.

He se the bag of groceries down on the side of the street and ran across to the alleyway. Peering in he could see a man on top of a woman. His hand was over her mouth and she was struggling furiously, kicking and hitting at him with her hands while he struggled to strip her pockets of anything they held. Matt watched in horror as a sharp tug on the woman's hair brought her head crashing down to the pavement.

Hard.

She stilled immediately, her body going limp.

Matt knew he would kick himself later for that second of inaction that led to the woman getting hurt. But there was nothing he could do at that time to take it back. He darted into the alley, pulling the mugger off of the woman. He had her wallet already, Matt could see it in his hand.

"Too late, pretty boy." The mugger taunted before running off into the streets. Matt took a few steps after him before remembering the woman still laying still as death behind him. The pulse in her neck was still strong when he reached down to feel for it.

Good.

He stood up, stepping back and onto something. A cell phone. It had obviously been broken before he stepped on it, there were pieces all around her prone body. "JANET!!!" He screamed, moving to the head of the alley. "JANET!!!! CALL AN AMBULANCE!!!!" The clerk came to the door of the store, phone already in hand. Help would be coming.

He turned back to the red haired woman and knelt beside her, praying that she'd be okay.

~*~Part Two~*~

Matt looked down at the little red head lying so still in the hospital bed. She was so pale, matching the white of the starched sheets almost perfectly. The only splash of color was her hair - that bright red that seemed almost too perfect to be natural. He wanted to know what color her eyes were, if they were as pretty as the hair. But he hadn't been able to find out yet.

She hadn't woken up yet.

Two days had passed since the night he had supposedly rescued her from the attacker. Two days and yet she hadn't opened her eyes, hadn't said a word to anyone. She was in a coma and the doctors couldn't say for sure whether or not she would ever wake up. That final blow she had taken as her head crashed into the pavement had been the blow that had done it. That was the one that would haunt him for the rest of his life - the one that he could have prevented if he had just acted a little quicker.

But second thoughts weren't going to make her wake up. They weren't going to bring her back from whatever limbo she was in or make her open up her eyes so
he could finally see what color they were. Sitting here wasn't going to do it either - but that was all he could think to do. Something about her had struck a chord in his heart that night as he waited for the ambulance to come take her away. He wanted, no - needed, to know if she was going to be okay. He needed to know that his indecision hadn't cost her something precious.

The doctors knew next to nothing about her. The wallet she had been carrying was taken by the attacker. Only a small note in her pocket, addressed to a Willow from a Isabel gave them any clue as to what her name could possibly be. He was guessing she was the Willow. Isabel just didn't seem to fit her looks. That, and the little willow tree tattooed on the small of her back. They had placed a newspaper ad hoping that family would come forward, but no one had yet. She was a mystery.

"You doing okay?"

Matt nodded, not looking up at his brother. A cup of coffee was placed in his hand, courtesy of the only other red head he had ever had in his life. "Hey, Lita. Thought you two were going out tonight."

"We are." She nodded. Her voice was soft. Hospitals unnerved her. People in comas unnerved her, too. It was sort of creepy to be in a room with someone who
looked like they would wake up at any minute. "Just came by to check on you before we went."

"I'm fine." He murmured, giving her and Jeff a small smile. "Just sitting here telling her about some of our escapades. Matches and stuff."

Lita smiled at the dark haired man, patting his shoulder reassuringly. He had explained to her, and Jeff, the reason he felt so compelled to sit here with her hour after hour. He felt guilty. There was no reason for him to, of course. Chances are good that he had saved her life entirely. But that was just Matt for you - a heart of gold.

"Make sure you don't tell her anything too alarming - we want her to wake up, remember? Not run into some farther part of her head."

"That's not possible, is it?" Matt asked, looking from his brother to Lita in alarm.

"Of course not!" The red head slapped her boyfriend on the arm and gave him a stern look for his ill-advised comments. "Jeff is just running off at the mouth again."

The older Hardy brother nodded, turning his attention back to the bed. "You guys go have fun. I'll be home later - when visiting hours are over."

He hardly heard their goodbyes. Already his mind had gone back to the woman laying on the bed in front of him, her arms down at her sides, face slack in a sleep she may never wake up from. Lowering his head, he began to pray.

~*~

The nightshift nurse glanced into the room across from her station, smiling sadly at the sight that greeted her eyes. The Jane Doe was still out, a coma the doctors said. Their whispered words indicated that there was little chance she would wake up. But there was always hope, they were quick to add.

And there, next to the bed, the man that had rescued the tiny little girl. He was a local celebrity, some sort of wrestler from what she had heard. No one she knew, she wouldn't be caught dead watching that type of thing. He seemed to have his heart in the right place, though. Three nights had passed since the girl was admitted and each night he had been there until the end of visiting hours, sitting and talking to her as though he knew her.

Visiting hours ended in ten minutes, but she had already decided that he could stay a little later if he wanted. It was so rare to see someone care for a stranger the way he was caring for that girl. It would hardly be right to discourage it.

~*~

"And then Jeff got up on the top turnbuckle. You should have seen it." He stopped, tilting his head to the side. "Well, maybe you did. I don't have the slightest clue whether or not you watch the WWE. Anyway. he got up there and the crowd started going wild. D'Von had already set up a table in the center of the ring."

He stopped again, staring at the girl. Had she just moved? A minute of staring yielded no evidence to support what he had thought he saw.

'Mind must be playing tricks on me.' A glance at the clock on the wall proved that it was late, far past visiting hours. Lita and Jeff were going to be worried if he didn't come home soon.

"I guess I'll have to tell you the rest of that story some other time, Willow." He whispered the name, bending to place a kiss on her forehead. Slipping on his jacket, the dark haired wrestler turned to the door.

And barely heard the one thing he had been waiting on for days.

"Where .. "

He turned back to the bed, eyes wide. Emerald green eyes were staring at him, frightened and confused. "Willow? Are you okay?"

"Willow?" Her brow wrinkled with confusion. Why were her lips so dry? And her throat to? She felt as though she hadn't spoken in weeks. She tried to remember
something, anything, about where she was or how she had got there - and ran into a brick wall. Not only that, but she couldn't seem to put her finger on anything else, either. Everything outside of this moment, waking up in this strange bed with this man she didn't know standing over her, was gone. "Is that my name? I can't really remember anything."

Matt felt the world slide out from under him. He had gotten to see her eyes, the beautiful green a perfect compliment to her silken hair. She was awake and that was good.

But she had amnesia.

~*~Part Three~*~

By the third day after Willow woke up Matt was well-known in the hospital. He would walk in, generally early in the morning and usually with flowers for the red head. All of the nurses would greet him one by one and he would throw them all a wink. And then he’d make his way into the room that the newest woman in his life was occupying. She would smile at him and wave him in, glad to have at least one person that she recognized, even if her knowledge of him only went back a few days.

They would pass the time together with him telling her about the world outside and about himself, Jeff and Lita. Those two would also drop in during the day to spend some time with the woman who was stealing away all of Matt’s time. They didn’t begrudge her for it. There was just something about her that made her likeable to a fault.

Though he didn’t know anything about her, the dark haired wrestler had come to like her for her personality alone. He truly believed that it was her true personality, that that one little thing had to remain with a person even when they couldn’t remember anything else. She was quiet, a little shy even, but she seemed to have a warm heart. Every time he would start feeling guilty for not helping her sooner she would just lay her hand on his arm, look into his eyes and tell him he had done what he could and that she thanked him for it.

The newspaper ad still hadn’t turned up any leads as to who she was. No one had come forward to claim knowledge of the red head, which indicated to the police
that she was probably just visiting the town for some reason. She probably wasn’t from here or anywhere near here. It gave them little to go on. The doctors were still hopeful that she would regain her memory at any time. He hoped so.

He wanted to get a chance to know her better. The real her. He got the feeling that she was probably pretty special and that she’d have quite a few stories to tell if she could just remember them.

As he neared the door to her room that third morning, though, he heard something he hadn’t expected.

Crying.

The door swung open gently, revealing the red head sitting on the edge of a chair, fully dressed. The hospital bed was made and the flowers he had brought in the day before were gone.

"Willow?"

She looked up, rubbing at the tears on her face. "Hi, Matt."

He was amazed at the sudden change of emotion, from crying to a forced happiness. Was she trying to be brave for him for some reason? "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing."

The curt answer told him more than she had probably meant to tell. "I don’t believe that for one second, darlin’. Now tell me what’s wrong, please?"

Her green eyes met his, still wet with unshed tears. She stared at him for a long time, as though searching for something; and then she sighed. "They’re releasing me today."

That brought a smile to Matt’s face. "That’s good news, Will. Right?"

She shook her head and mouthed the word ‘no’.

"Not good news?" He questioned. A crease of confusion appeared between his eyes.

"Not really." She shrugged. "I mean. I still don’t know who I am, where I’m from…" She trailed off, voice breaking as tears rolled freely down her face again. "I’m scared."

He had never thought of it from that point of view. Where was she going to go? He was sure there had to be provisions for this type of thing, right? But did he really want Willow getting lost in the system somewhere? She was already a friend even though he didn’t know the first thing about her. And, as a friend, there was really only one thing he could do.

"Come home with me."

"Uh?" It was incoherent, true, but it was all she could come up with. The question threw her for a loop.

He smiled. This girl was adorable. "Come home with me. Until you figure things out."

"But…but…" She spluttered. "I can’t do that. You’ve been too kind already. Coming to visit me and stuff. I couldn’t possibly intrude on your life any more than I already have."

"You can." Matt argued quietly, a smile on his lips. "And you will. Lita and Jeff will be glad to have you there, too."

Willow looked at him hard for a minute, and then for another, as if trying to judge the truth in his words. Whatever she saw there obviously reassured her, though, because she gave him a sad smile. It was a leap of faith to put her life in his hands. He seemed so nice, though. So kind and caring. She didn’t think that he would do anything to hurt her.

And hadn’t he already saved her once?

But going to stay with him would be indebting herself to him even more. And she wasn’t sure if this would be something she could ever pay back. It was a two-edged sword. She could either go out in the world, see what she could figure out on her own. Or stay with Matt for a little while and try to remember while being around someone she at least tentatively knew. All in all, staying with him might be the lesser of two evils. And it certainly was more of an inviting thought than going out into the world with no clue who she was.

"Thanks, Matt. That would be wonderful."

~*~Part Four~*~

It was hard for her, settling into a home she had never seen before, into a bed that she knew wasn't her own. But that didn't bother her nearly as much as the fact that she didn't know what home she -had- seen before and where her own bed was. She looked around the tastefully decorated room, thinking that somehow it did seem very familiar. Was her own room like this? With white walls and wispy curtains. Did she have a balcony back home; wherever home was? The old-fashioned decoration was very much what she thought was normal for this part of the country, despite the fact that she couldn't figure out what about it was triggering memories for her.

She ran a hand over the comforter, letting the softness soothe her fingertips and senses. It was handmade, probably by someone close to Matt and Jeff. Or maybe someone close to Lita, the red head seemed to live here with them, as well. It was definitely well-made, almost too nice to put out in a guestroom. The stitching and embroidery were things that should have been displayed for all visitors to the house to see. Perhaps in the living room or that front hallway near the door?

Sighing, the red head laid her head on the pillow, closing her eyes. Tears formed before she could stop them and she let them fall. No one was around to see her right now. She could cry in seclusion without Matt around to try to make her feel better. He was just trying to do what he thought was best, but she really just needed to cry, to find release. It was frightening, more so than she could possibly explain to him, to not know the first thing about yourself. There were things around her, everywhere she looked, that reminded some deep part of herself about what she had once known. But they didn't bring the memories back. It was like viewing something through a thick veil; not being able to see clearly what was on the other side but knowing it was something familiar.

And then there was the situation she was in right now.

Staying with Matt.

The assistance and kindness he was showing to her was unbelievable. Not many people in the world would do this for a stranger. Across the room were two bags
of clothes, things he had sent Lita out to buy for her. They were nice, though she instinctively knew that the styles weren't something she would have normally worn. That didn't matter. They were clothes. Fresh and clean. More than she had hoped for when the doctors released her from the hospital that morning. They had told her about programs, set up through the state, that would help her get a new start on life; just enough to maybe help her get to the point where she remembered her own life and could get back to it. Hopefully in the meantime someone would come forward that was looking for her.

It all seemed to lend a lot to chance - not something that had been very hopeful from where she was sitting. Life had already dealt her nothing short of a crippling blow, for all she knew she had used up all her luck just surviving the attack. How was she supposed to just sit back, enroll in some type of county program and pray for the best?

"Goddess," She whispered. "Help me."

She paused, her eyes flying open. 'Goddess'? That certainly wasn't normal, was it? Though she couldn't remember her own life, she could remember that, for the most part, the citizens of the world, most especially this part of the country, worshipped the Christian god.

'Guess I was, am, a pagan?' She questioned silently, trying to make sense of the small flash of insight she had been granted. It didn't spark any new memories, though, and she filed it away for a later time. Maybe once she remembered a little more about herself she'd know enough of that snippet to make sense of it.

She sighed, rolling on her side and cuddling up to a pillow. Matt had told her to rest; that he'd come wake her when it was time for dinner. A smile graced her tired features as she remembered the look of genuine concern on his face. He was being so good to her. So very kind and sweet. Much more so than he had to be. More than anyone else in his position would have been. Was he the type of guy she would like if she could remember who she was?

Probably.

There certainly wasn't anything about him that made her think otherwise. He was kind, caring, and undoubtedly handsome. And he was interesting. The stories he
had told her about his job, his friends and life, had made her smile and want to hear more. It could have been because she was desperate to listen to anything in the hopes that even some random word would jog her memory, but she didn't think that was the case at all. She was pretty sure she liked listening to him for the simple reason that she was coming to like him.

~*~*~

"You like her."

Matt looked up, eyebrows raised. "Huh. Care to repeat that, little brother?"

"Willow. You like her." The younger of the two repeated, a smirk on his face.

"Now, Jeff -"

"Don't deny it." Jeff interrupted. "You like her. I can see it in your eyes every time you look at her. Or, hell, every time you mention her."

Matt frowned. "I don't know her, Jeff. I can't like her. Not like that, anyway." There, he had said it. The same words he had been saying silently to himself all day long. But hearing them aloud didn't make what he was feeling any less true.

The rainbow haired wrestler shrugged.

"Doesn't matter if you know her or not. You know enough to have fallen for her."

"I agree on this, by the way." Lita spoke up, flashing Matt a wicked smile. "Why else would you have brought her home? Offered to let her stay with us? You already care about her."

"Li -"

"Stop it." She laughed. "We're not upset with you. Don't act like we're lecturing you! We just want you to be careful, is all. She doesn't even know who she is, Matt. And neither do you. I believe that her personality is true to who she is, but that doesn't mean anything, really. When she finally remembers who she is, it could be something so totally different from who you are that it could create conflicts. Neither of us," She gestured to herself and Jeff. "Want to see you get hurt."

Matt nodded. They meant well, he knew. It was just so difficult. Willow was bright and perky; even now at what had to be one of the darkest spots in her life. Lita was right, though. When the woman finally remembered who she was, it could mean things that just wouldn't mesh with who he was.

Though what those things were, he really couldn't say at that moment. There was just something about her that radiated compatibility. Like he had finally found 'the one'. And even though he could keep telling himself that he was caring for her out of a sense of responsibility until time itself stopped; that wouldn't change what his heart was telling him or what Lita and Jeff had already pointed out to him.

He had fallen for Willow; and fallen hard.

"Why don't you show her the computer room?" Lita suggested, deciding to take pity on the man she considered to be like an older brother to her. He looked so
confused, so pitiful, standing there thinking hard about, she assumed, what they had just spoken with him about. "Let her surf the Internet and see if anything rings a bell."

The dark haired wrestler looked at her, a warm smile on his face. "That's a good idea, Li. Thanks."

She nodded, watching him run off to get Willow, a small smile on her face.

"Are we like that?" Jeff asked, pulling a kitchen chair closer to Lita and nuzzling her neck. He placed a gently kiss on the skin behind her ear, grinning into her hair when she shivered unconsciously with delight.

"You mean do we act that silly?" Lita murmured, turning to stare into her boyfriend's eyes. She kissed his lightly on the lips, grinning.

"Nah. Not us."

~*~

Willow scanned the headlines on the front page of MSN, her eyes carefully alert for anything that looked even remotely familiar. She sighed, shaking her head ever so slightly, and typed in the address for another news site that came to mind. Repeat process. This seemed futile, but it was better than laying around and feeling sorry for herself. Besides, Matt was sitting there with her, and his presence was comforting.

Matt sat back in his chair, watching as the red head went from site to site, her hands practically flying across the keyboard.

"I think you may have been good with computers."

Willow stopped in mid-keystroke, turning to look at him.

"What makes you say that?"

He chuckled softly, leaning forward.

"Well, for starters you type easily seventy words a minute. Much faster than most people would if they were familiar with computers."

"I could have been a secretary." She argued, giving him what she hoped wasn't too much of a disbelieving look.

"It's not just that." He grinned. "You know all the little shortcuts. You barely touched the mouse the entire time you've been sitting there. You even started a new file and typed in some notes. Now," He laughed. "I'm no computer expert, but I'm thinking you must have been good with computers, if not very familiar."

The more he spoke about it, the more it seemed to make sense to Willow. And, indeed, it did ring a bell in her mind. There was a flash of memory. Her at the front of a classroom, teaching. It was a computer class, of that she was sure.

"I remember teaching." She said finally, giving Matt a hopeful smile. "Computers. I remember teaching computers."

That brought Matt up short. "Teaching? You can't be more than twenty-one. Too young to be out of school yet. Maybe you're doing some type of internship?"

Willow bit her lip, trying to think back on the little piece of memory. In the brief glimpse she had been even younger than she was now. Still high-school age it had seemed. There was no way she could have actually been a teacher. That was absurd. Who ever heard of a high school student teaching a class on computers?

She sighed in frustration. "You're right. Must have been something else. I was too young in the memory."

Matt picked up immediately on the dejection in her voice. He reached out, placing a gentling hand on her arm. The contact was enough to make something warm rush through him. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss away the sorrow he saw there. His conversation with Jeff and Lita came rushing back and he forced the idea away. They were right. He needed to be careful. At least until she remembered a little more about herself.

"Everything's going to be okay." He murmured, giving her a reassuring look.

"Promise?" She asked, her heart heavy and weary. There was nothing she wanted more in the world than to just know who she was. She registered the touch of
Matt's skin to hers, the feeling pleasurable; but pushed it to the back of her mind for a later time. Right now she just needed to know that all would be right again.

"I promise." He said with certainty, knowing in his heart it was the truth. "One way or another; everything is going to be just fine."

~*~Part Six~*~

Angel sat across from Buffy and Dawn, listening attentively as they described what they knew about Willow’s disappearance. Which wasn’t much. They knew that
she had gone to visit her Aunt Isabel in Cameron. However they didn’t know that Aunt’s phone number and hadn’t been able to turn it up in their cursory search of Willow’s room. They didn’t even know if Aunt Isabel was a Rosenberg or had some other last name. It made things very difficult. Her cell phone was out of service and her provider was unable to even get a signal off of the chip any longer. They didn’t know, in effect, whether she was still in North Carolina or not.

Buffy stopped speaking, waiting for Angel to answer. Calling him in had been the hardest move she had ever made. But, when their own pathetic attempts at investigation had turned up fruitless, she had been forced to turn to the pros; and Angel was it. She had thought at first that he was going to be upset with her for not calling him immediately, but if that was the case he wasn’t showing it. He was just as worried about the missing red head as they were.

"So," Cordelia sighed. "She went to visit family on the East Coast and the last time any of you heard from her was about a week and a half ago."

Dawn nodded, turning her head so that the brunette wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. She was getting tired of crying. It hurt so bad to miss someone this much. Like an ache in her heart that she just couldn’t be rid of. Her eyes were stinging and red, her head hurt, and yet all she could do was cry some more. She felt helpless, a far cry from that first night at the airport when she had rallied both Xander and Buffy into action. Now she felt like there was nothing she could do. And she couldn’t even force herself to stay optimistic, much less lend her optimism to others.

"We all thought her cell phone had just gone out and she was too busy having fun to call." Xander muttered. "I guess in hindsight that doesn’t really sound like Wills. Does it?"

The assorted group didn’t comment. None of them wanted to point blame at the other. It wouldn’t make things better. Wouldn’t bring Willow back to them and wouldn’t help them find her. Xander was right, though. They had ignored the fact that Willow was being un-Willowy and had thus probably lost valuable time in trying to find her.

"We’ll help out in every way we can." Wesley murmured. He sighed, glancing around the room. Things were in disarray, as though those that lived there had been devoting ever moment of their time to trying to find Willow.

He only hoped that, wherever she was, she was okay.

~*~

"Stop. Stop. Stop." Willow laughed, doubling over in a vain attempt to try to escape the fingers that were on her stomach, at her sides. She fell back on the couch, realizing at the last second that that was the wrong thing to do. It opened up a brand new avenue of attack.

Her feet.

"Please stop." She gasped between laughs. Her chest hurt from laughing so much.

"Why should I?" Matt countered, pausing in his ruthless assault long enough for her to take one good breath before he began again.

"Because…"

"Because if you don’t I’m gonna start in on you, Matthew Hardy." Lita grinned, stepping up behind the dark haired wrestler. "And I know where all of your tickle spots are."

He stood up, dropping Willow’s foot and backing away. His hands were held in the air as if to say ‘I stopped’. But that wasn’t enough for Willow, the victim of a cruel five minute long tickle attack.

"Want to?" She asked Lita, tilting her head to the side.

"Of course. Get him on his sides. Near the stomach." Was all Lita said. As one the women pounced on Matt, each tickling him with all their might. His laughter echoed through the house, causing Jeff to come to investigate the disturbance.

"Help me." Matt laughed, tears coming from the corners of his eyes.

"And just why should I do that?" Jeff smirked, sitting on the edge of the couch. "It’s sorta nice seein’ the two of them get you all helpless-like."

"If you don’t help me." The older Hardy managed to gasp. "I’ll make sure I tell the Commissioner that we want our first match back to be a tables match with the Dudleys."

"Ow." Jeff grinned. "That’s a low blow, bro." But he took the threat for what it was, grabbing Lita around the chest from behind, effectively pinning her arms to her sides.

"Hey!" She cried indignantly. "Let me go."

"Uh uh." Jeff smirked.

She struggled for a moment, rather halfheartedly, before going limp in his arms, a happy smile on her face. Willow had pulled away from Matt, watching the couple in front of her with amusement. They were too cute. She hardly noticed the fact that she was still resting her body ever so lightly against Matt. Or the way that he inched closer to her with each growing moment.

"Come help me get dinner started?" Lita asked Willow after a moment of companionable silence.

"Sure." She threw Matt a smile and followed the female wrestler towards the kitchen.

"What are you going to do?"

Matt looked at Jeff, the question clear. They were going back to work next week. In fact, there were only four more days left in their vacation. What was to become of the red head? The only things they had found out thus far were that she was great with computers and felt as though she were from California. At least, that’s what always sparked a little recognition in her when she saw something about it on TV.

"I want to take her with us."

Jeff nodded. He had known it was coming. His brother was more than a little attached to the red head, and she him. It didn’t deter either of them that she didn’t know but a handful of things about herself. They danced around their attraction, still, though. Not even the first step had been taken. Not a single kiss. No more than a friendly hug. It would all come to a head eventually, though. And maybe by then she’d know a little more about herself.

"Just hear me out." Matt continued, completely unaware of the fact that his brother hadn’t mounted a single argument. "We travel a lot. Eventually we’re bound to come to someplace that she recognizes. Or, we can find a way to get her on TV and someone she knows is bound to see her."

"Sounds good to me."

"Now don’t be so critical –" Matt began. He snapped his mouth shut, looking askance at his brother. "It sounds good? You’re not going to argue?"

Jeff shook his head. "She’s good for you, bro. Keep her with us as long as you like. Lita agrees." He paused. "Make sure she knows what she’s getting into, though. Vince will find a way to get her in front of a camera soon enough. Whether its just to help her out or not."

That thought had entered Matt’s mind and it didn’t bother him one bit. He happened to believe that the little red head would bring just as much excitement to the WWE as anyone else. In fact, if she got on as a regular, maybe a manager, there’d be an even better chance that someone would see her and know who she was.

He was doing it all to help Willow.

None of it had to do with what he felt for her. Not at all.

Yeah right.

~*~Part Seven~*~

Willow looked around the comfortable little room she had called home for the past two weeks, smiling in fondness. Last night had been her last night here, in this house.

"You ready?"

The red head turned to Matt, a hesitant smile on her face.

"Are you sure about this? I mean. I don't want to be more of an inconvenience than I've already been."

The dark haired wrestler grinned.

"I've told you before. You're not an inconvenience. I like having you around." He faltered, blushing when he realized what he had admitted. It didn't take but a second for him to regroup, however. "Lita and Jeff like having you around, too, of course."

She snickered. "I like being around you, too, Matt. And Jeff and Lita, too, of course." Her voice was teasing. They had been dancing around their attraction to each other for weeks now. For the sake of the life she couldn't remember they had both mutually, yet with never saying a word, agreed to take things slow; very, very slow.

Matt flasher her a smile. "Besides, Red. If it wasn't for me hesitating just that one moment that made him hit your head on the ground - "

"No!" Willow argued, not even allowing him to finish what he had been about to say. She had heard it all before from him and didn't want to hear it again. "You saved me, Matt. It doesn't matter that you may have hesitated." She shuddered. "He probably would have killed me if it wasn't for you. You -saved- me. This," She gestured towards her head, the source of her amnesia. "Isn't your fault. You don't owe me anything."

The wrestler sighed, nodding though he didn't believe what she said. In his heart he would always feel like he should have acted quicker, should have stopped the mugger before he injured her. Willow had family and friends, somewhere, that were missing her terribly, he knew. And that was all because he hadn't acted quick enough; hadn't stopped the blow that had knocked her into a coma, and no doubt caused her amnesia.

"C'mon, Matt." The red head frowned, stepping close enough to him that she could lay a hand on his upper arm, her fingers gently squeezing. The smell of his aftershave filled her nose, sharp and minty. It was a comforting smell to her, had been ever since she had woken up with him in the room with her at the hospital. She supposed it would follow her for the rest of her life, be that rock in the storm; just that one little smell of Matt's aftershave. "Let it go. I'm grateful for what you did and I don't hold against you what you think you should have done. I'd rather not know who I am than be dead, believe me. You do believe that, right?"

Matt looked up into her eyes and exhaled slowly, nodding again. "Yeah - I believe that much."

Willow smiled brightly. "Well, ever little victory counts, I guess. Maybe one day I'll get you to believe it all."

The dark haired man just smirked, not putting up an argument to what she had said. He doubted seriously that he would ever stop blaming himself, or having the nightmares that had plagued his sleep for weeks. The ones where he had hesitated even more and she *had* died.

His eyes glanced across the room, over the bed, and to the bags stacked near the door.

"You ready to go? Everything packed."

She paled, the reminder that she was leaving this house and going off to be with Matt, Jeff and Lita on the road hitting her full force. She knew it was for the best; while on the road she was bound to see even more things that reminded her of who she was and where she was from. There was the warning Matt had given her, though. About his boss, Vince McMahon.

'He'll try to get you on TV eventually, Willow. Don't worry about it, though. You can say no if you want. This is a dangerous business and you've already been through enough.'

True - she had been through enough, but getting on TV would mean that she would have even -more- chance of being recognized by her friends and family. So, she
had made the decision already, that if Vince McMahon offered her a spot on his traveling 'circus', she'd take him up on it without a second's hesitation. As much as she wanted to spend more time getting to know Matt, she would rather get to know him with the full use of her memories of who she really was.

"Yeah - I'm ready whenever you guys are."

~*~

"Hey Deadboy, what's -"

Xander stopped in mid-sentence, watching as the vampire practically flew from his office to the computer set up across the lobby of the Hyperion. He frowned,
following behind the obviously agitated vampire.

They had decided, after much debate and prodding from the staff of Angel Investigations, that the best thing for himself, Dawn, Anya, Buffy and even Spike, was to come stay at the hotel while the investigation was going on. Or until Dawn went back to school, whichever happened first.

They were certainly hoping they found Willow before September rolled around. That was nearly three weeks away and Xander couldn't bear the thought of being
without his best friend in the entire world for another three weeks. It was hard to wake up in the morning as it was, know that he wasn't going to see her that day, and still get out of bed and function like he was still alive. She was their hope, their sparkle; without her they were all well and genuinely lost.

"What's going on?" He asked at last.

"Was talking to a hospital in Cameron. One of the nurses seems to remember a red head being in there the week before. Says the girl had red hair, green eyes - and a case of amnesia when she finally woke up."

"Woke up?" Xander questioned.

"Yeah." Angel frowned, glaring at his email box as though he were waiting for something. "The woman was mugged, got her head hit. Coma."

Xander felt the color drain from his face.

"And you think this could be Wills?"

Angel shrugged. "That would explain why we haven't heard from her. Why she never contacted us. If she doesn't remember."

"So - what are we waiting for. Let's go."

"Hold on." The vampire growled softly. "They're emailing me the picture that they used in all of the local newspapers when she was first brought in. I want to make sure its Willow before -"

The chime on his email box went off, signaling that he had new mail. Now his hands weren't so firm, they were shaking. If this was Willow then they were one step closer to bringing her home, where she belonged. He clicked on the attachment of the email, waiting as patiently as he could for his archaic computer to open it.

And then it opened.

And it was her.

"Oh God. Thank you, God." Xander whispered, falling to his knees in front of the computer. Seeing her face on the screen had to be the most beautiful sight he had ever witnessed. He reached out with trembling fingers to touch the screen, tears rolling down his face. "Wills."

Angel was up, out of his chair the second that he saw her face. He raced back to his office, dialing the number of the hospital and asking to speak to the same nurse that he had spoken with before.

"Yes, that's her. Is she still a patient there?"

He heard Xander join him in the room, just as the words he had hoped not to hear came across the line.

"No? You released her? But - she didn't know who she was - where did she go? She went home with the man that rescued her? Do you know his name? Can't
release that information? Already said too much?"

Angel slammed down the phone in frustration. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain as calm as he could.

"Go pack a bag, tell Buffy too. We're going to Cameron to do some investigating of our own. They released her over a week ago. She should still be in the town
somewhere."

Xander nodded, racing out of the office and up the stairs. Spike and Anya could watch Dawn while they ran off across the country to get Willow back. He wondered briefly how Angel was going to manage to get across country with his serious allergy to sunlight, then pushed the worry aside. Angel would do what
needed to be done, he had no doubt about that.

Not when it concerned Willow.

~*~Part Eight~*~

Willow was exhausted by the time their plane landed and had been mildly disappointed to hear that they had to go to the arena for a little while before they could check into their hotel. The show wasn't until the next night, but Matt and Jeff had to discuss some things with Vince and Lita was tagging along. That was fine and good; but Willow was tired.

"Not too much longer, sweetie." Matt murmured, leading her down a hallway. She couldn't tell if it was a new hallway or one they'd already been on before. They all looked the same to her and, for all she knew, they could've been hopelessly lost. How the dark haired man that was holding her hand could tell the difference between the identical gray halls she just couldn't be sure. Maybe years of experience helped him differentiate between different states of 'blah'.

Behind their backs Jeff and Lita snickered; both at the fact that Matt had just called Willow sweetie and the way he was holding her hand. If anyone else saw the two of them they would think for sure that they were dating. But that wasn't the case. The red head and Matt had stated in no uncertain terms that they were not ready for that kind of relationship yet; that they wanted her to regain her memories and then they'd see what kind of shot they had together.

So why were they holding hands, again?

"There!" Lita cried out softly, pointing at a door at the end of the hall.

"Ah ha!" Willow exclaimed, grinning mischievously. "You guys really were lost, weren't you?"

"Lost?" Jeff asked innocently, putting on his best shocked expression. "Never. We know all of these arenas like the back of our hands."

"Uh huh." She smirked. "You can tell the difference between this gray hallway and that one, I suppose?"

"Of course." Matt played along, squeezing her hand affectionately.

"Sure." Willow drawled. "So why do I remember us walking past this door almost ten minutes ago?"

The two male wrestlers looked at each other, both at a loss for words.

"She's got you there, guys." Lita prodded, grinning happily. Having Willow along while they toured was going to be fun. No longer would she be the only female member of Team Extreme.

Except, Willow wasn't a member of the team per se. Not yet, anyway. She was sure that would all change with the little meeting they were about to go into. It was, technically, just a welcome back meeting for herself and Matt and Jeff, but Vince was sure to notice Willow in the way that any of the WWE talent scouts would. She was pretty and seemed fit enough. Her voice was a pleasure to listen to, something that was always good when dealing with the public. The only thing Lita couldn't comment on, in fact, was whether or not Willow would be any good in the ring.

She had a feeling they'd all find out soon enough, though.

Matt knocked on the door, waiting until he heard Vince call them in before opening it.

"Matt, Jeff and Lita. Nice to have you all back." Vince smiled warmly at the team. The fans had been going crazy for them ever since their vacation started. And now they were back. Ratings were going to be going through the roof for at least the next few shows. He saw another red head enter, right behind the older of the two brothers, and his forehead creased in confusion.

"And who is this lovely young lady?"

Matt frowned. He could see the gears working in Vince's head already, sizing Willow up.

"She's a friend that's going to be traveling with us for a little while." He looked to Willow, asking silent permission to fully explain to Vince who she was and why she was with them. The red head nodded almost imperceptibly.

"It's like this." Matt sighed. "I saved her from getting mugged a few weeks ago. But the scum that did it to her managed to hit her head. She woke up in the hospital with amnesia."

Vince nodded. "And you feel responsible for her?"

Matt nodded. "Yes sir."

"Then we'll be happy to have her with us. What's you name, young lady?"

"Willow." She smiled shyly. This man seemed nice enough; totally different from the way he acted on camera.

"Are you a WWE fan, Willow?" He asked, genuinely interested in her answer.

The red head shrugged. "Honestly, sir. I have no clue if I was before the attack or not. Nothing's really come back to me yet. I've watched a few shows in the past weeks, though. Its entertaining."

"Glad to hear you say that." Vince smiled. "Why don't you all sit down and we'll have a little talk. While you're with us, Willow, might as well find something for you to do, after all."

Lita looked at Jeff and they hid smiles. Sometimes Vince was so predictable.

Before the end of the night Willow would, with her consent, be the newest employee of the WWE.

~*~Part Nine~*~

For Angel, Xander, and Buffy; it turned out that making it to North Carolina, sun-allergenic vampire and all, was easier than finding out anything about their missing friend.

"You would have thought they’d –want- to help. I mean, Wills is helpless." Xander fumed, glaring down the hallway at the nurses’ station. The woman standing behind the counter had been most uncooperative, offering only under extreme duress to even take down their names and contact info just in case Willow should call the hospital for any reason. It was a long shot, he knew, but it was all they had at the moment. Especially with the evil nurse that was currently on duty being so terribly unhelpful.

"I can’t give you any information." Buffy mimicked, her face sour. "Patient confidentiality. BAH! My best friend doesn’t even remember who she is and that woman is worried about confidentiality. Wouldn’t it be for everyone’s benefit for us to just know everything they know? So we can find Wills?"

There were tears glistening in the corners of Buffy’s blue eyes, ready to spill over at any moment. The entire affair, from the moment Willow went missing until right now, was taking its toll on the normally steadfast Slayer. Her lower lip trembled with the effort not to cry, to stay strong.

But everyone needed to cry sometime and, as Angel reached out to take her into his arms, Buffy let go. She sobbed brokenly into the front of his shirt, tears spilling down her cheeks in great, big, fat globs of glistening wetness.

"Gonna have to get that dry cleaned, man." Xander cracked lamely, pointing to Angel’s silk shirt. He ignored the mock glare the vampire sent his way, instead looking up and down the hall to make sure that Buffy’s hysterics hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention. There was a man in a suit standing at the nurses’ station now, with the nurse, now to be forever known as Nurse Evil, gesturing and saying something furiously. She pointed their way, an angry scowl on her face. Xander swallowed hard, wondering what the horrendous creature could be trying to do now. Kick them out of the hospital entirely? He wouldn’t put it past her. A moment later the man shook his head and began walking towards them. Xander followed him with his eyes, trying not to glare too hard. At least not until he knew what the very official looking man wanted.

"Mr. Harris? Miss Summers?"

"That would me. And her." Xander gestured between himself and Buffy.

The man smiled gently. "I hear from the nurse on call that you are looking for information on the red head amnesiac that we had in here not too long ago."

"Yes." The three friends said at once, not daring to get their hopes up despite the man’s seemingly friendly nature.

"I’m sorry for the way Nurse Miller acted." He apologized, spreading his hands as if to say ‘what can you do?’. "It is generally hospital policy not to release information but in a case like this I am willing to make an exception."

"Thank you." Buffy sniffled, wiping at her face with the back of her hands and then drying those hands on her pants. She wanted to hug this little smiling man, if he could do even the slightest thing to bring their Willow back to them. At least he was –trying- to be helpful. Much more than could be said for Nurse Evil, aka Nurse Miller.

"I’m Richard White, the night time director for the hospital. There’s not much information I can give you right now, the file is pretty thin and I’d like to talk to the nurses that worked with the girl. Will the three of you be in staying nearby."

Angel nodded, naming their hotel and room numbers.

"Good, good." Director White smiled, scribbling the information onto a small pad of paper he had in his pocket. "I’ll call you as soon as I’ve had a chance to speak with the nurses. Nurse Miller says she thinks the girl left with someone, but she can’t remember who. Perhaps one of the other nurses will know something more."

"Thank you." Xander said simply, shaking the man’s hand. "We’ll be at the hotel waiting for your call."

"You’re welcome young man. I can only imagine how hard this must be." He turned his attention to Buffy. "And you, young lady. Get some rest before you end up in here yourself."

That made Buffy smile. He sounded so much like an American version of Giles, all authoritative and protective. "Yes, sir."

"Come on Buffy, Xander." Angel motioned towards the door. "Thank you again, Mr. White."

"Well… that turned out better than I’d hoped." Buffy sighed, leaning against Angel as they exited the hospital. Their rental car wasn’t too far away, something Buffy was very thankful for. She didn’t think she could walk far at all. Not after the crying fit she had succumbed to in the hospital hallway. She felt drained from the inside out and in desperate need of some sleep.

"In you go." Xander grinned, holding open the car door for Buffy. His eyes watched worriedly as she climbed slowly into the car, her entire demeanor indicating an intense physical and emotional exhaustion. It was the same way he felt each and every day since he had found out Willow was missing.

But now he had hope.

And hope was a good thing, it brightened the soul and shed some light on the darkness of their mystery. He’d feel even better once they got the call from the director with, if they were very lucky, the name of who Willow had left the hospital with.

Hopefully.

~*~

Willow tugged at the t-shirt the woman in wardrobe had given her to wear. It was tight and very, very short. So short that her entire stomach was exposed. This brought out feelings of insecurity that the red head wasn’t quite sure about, though she was quite certain they had to do with insecurity or a deep abiding sense of not liking to show off all her assets to the world.

"Do I have to wear this?" She whined playfully, pouting at Matt.

The dark haired wrestler looked into her face, her lower lip sticking out, and felt an almost overwhelming urge to kiss those lips, to tease that one pouting lip with his tongue until her mouth opened and allowed him inside. He wanted to plunder her mouth, to ravage her from the inside out.

"Matt? HellooOOoooo?"

"Huh?"

Willow giggled, sitting on the bench next to him. "I asked if I was being forced to wear this shirt and you sorta spaced out. Is that the kind of reaction I can expect from the men in the audience?"

"Men in the audience?" Matt repeated dumbly. His face darkened almost immediately. "They better not be looking at you like that!"

"Like what?" She asked innocently. "Like you just were?"

Matt was very much aware quite suddenly of how close she was sitting to him, how close their faces were from each other. He leaned forward, kissing her lips gently. It wasn’t the kiss he had been fantasizing about only a moment before, this was more appropriate to the kind of kiss a ‘first’ kiss should be like – tender and sweet. She tasted like sweet vanilla; very pure and full of fiery innocence. What had she been like before she lost her memory? Still as innocent? Still as fiery?

He had a feeling he’d like her either way.

They pulled back slowly, Willow’s eyes half-shut and very dreamy. "That was… nice."

"Nice is good." Matt grinned. He reached a hand up to caress her cheek. "I know we agreed to wait but – "

"Waiting was getting old?" She smiled, leaning forward to kiss him again. "I agree."

Matt chuckled, stopping her movement with his hands to her shoulders. "As much as I’d like to keep doing this – all night long, in fact; we do have a match to get out to the ramp for. Right about now, even. Lita and Jeff are meeting us there."

Willow grinned, pushing his hands out of the way to kiss him anyway. She jumped off the bench, avoiding a playful swat to her rear, and started towards the door. "Let’s go, then."

~*~

Dawn yawned, her eyes red from crying. The TV was blaring with one of Spike’s shows. Wrestling. She hated it, but it gave her a chance to just sit with him and be comforted.

"Tired?"

The girl nodded, giving the vampire a sleepy smile. "Yeah. Cried too hard."

Spike smirked.

"Alright, then. Bedtime it is." He reached for the remote, only hearing part of the announcer’s spiel for the next act as the television flipped off.

"And making their way to the ring, from Cameron, NC…"

~*~Part Ten~*~

Walking Matt and Jeff out to the ring had been fun, Willow decided, no more than ten minutes after arriving back in the locked room she was sharing with them. In the back of her mind the entire time, though, had been the nagging thought that this just wasn't *her*; that just maybe she wasn't the type of person that liked going out in front of large crowds. Sure, she had made it through everything okay, with not even a single bruise despite the fact that Lita had accidentally knocked her into the apron at one point; she just still couldn't shake the thought that this wasn't how her life usually was.

"Of course not, Wills." She muttered to herself. "I doubt you were a performer before all of this."

She paused. 'Wills'? Was that a nickname of hers? Something maybe her friends called her? Pulling out a little notebook from her purse, the red head wrote down the clue. The page was filled with all manner of odd tidbits so far. California. Willow. Wiccan? The list went on and on, all things that she had one way or another managed to remember during her trip into amnesia land. And now, at the bottom of the list, 'Wills'.

Closing her eyes, the young woman thought about the latest flash of insight. She could almost hear someone saying that. Two someones. A man and a woman. The woman was blonde? The man was a brunette. Who were they, though? Friends, she could only assume. She sighed, pushing the notepad back into her purse. The locker room was empty. Matt and Jeff had gone to get some sodas. Lita was off somewhere talking to wardrobe. Something about needing some pants that went even lower on her hips than her current ones did. That girl seemed to have a thing for showing her thong to the world.

And Willow did not.

In fact, the little scrap of t-shirt she had been forced to wear out to the ring had been quite revealing enough. That was her second clue of the day - 'does not wear revealing clothes'.

"Knock knock."

"Come in." Willow grinned, her eyes going to the door as Matt stepped in. "Hey. You guys ready to go?"

Matt nodded. "Ready when you are. Lita's waiting with Jeff." He rolled his eyes. He had left the couple doing what he would love to be doing to Willow at that moment - kissing. In fact, he planned on getting some kisses of his own very shortly if Willow was up to it. "We were thinking of having a quiet night at the hotel. Watch some movies and order room service. That sound okay?"

Willow nodded. It sounded more than okay to her, in fact. The last thing she had wanted to do was be forced to go off after the show. And her worst fear had been that Matt and Jeff would want her to go somewhere to meet all of her new coworkers. She was more than glad to find out that they would be making a quiet night of things back at the hotel.

"That sounds perfect." She smiled, taking the hand he offered her and rising to her feet. Before she could think he had pulled her into his arms and his lips were pressing against hers. She sighed into the embrace, melting in his arms. Their mouths were like fire pressed to more fire, each one aching to crawl into the other and become one. Finally they broke apart, panting, eyes glazed with wanting.

"You know.we really should - " Willow murmured, her face in Matt's chest.

"Take things slow?" Matt finished for her, his eyes shut. He reached up to caress her back, hands trailing up and down the shirt she was wearing, while longing the whole time to place them under her shirt, on the smoothness of her skin.

"Yeah. Slow." She agreed, shaking her head slightly, as though she could erase the feelings of want and desire that were lodged so firmly in her brain at that point. "But - " She sighed, grabbing the front of his shirt and hauling his mouth to hers. "I don't want to move slow. Fast is good."

"Definitely good." The dark haired wrestler grinned between the furious kisses she was lavishing on his mouth, his neck, and any other bare pieces of skin she could reach without having to remove some or all of his clothes. He closed his eyes, moaning softly when her lips hit a particularly sensitive spot on his neck.

It felt great, wonderful even, but that didn't stop his overactive brain from reminding him of exactly why they had been taking things slowly. He pulled away from her, grabbing her hands in his own before she could latch onto him again.

"Not that I don't want this, darlin', because, believe me, I do. I just want to wait until you remember a little more about yourself. I don't want us to be strangers when we -"

Willow giggled at the sight of Matt Hardy blushing. Who would have thought that he could be so delicately adorable at the thought or mere mention of sex? He did have a point, though. And it was a good one. There was no way she could just jump in bed with him if she didn't even know who she was.

"Fine. Fine." She sighed, a smirking smile on her face. "Be the reasonable one." She paused, a look of confusion crossing her pretty face. "Though. I think -I'm- usually the reasonable one. The responsible one. " She frowned, taking out her notepad and penciling in the morsel of information.

"Somehow I don't find that hard to believe." Matt grinned, watching as she studiously noted her findings on, well, herself. It was adorable and he completely commended her efforts to scientifically and categorically figure out who she was. She was very methodical about the entire thing, noting everything very carefully in her little notebook. If anything struck her as particularly odd or unique she would look it up on the internet at the first chance she got. That would be a little more difficult now that they were on the road, but he somehow knew she'd find a way. "You strike me as the responsible type."

Willow smiled sadly. "I just wish I knew exactly how responsible I was. Or who I was responsible for. I keep getting the feeling I was responsible for others, like my group of friends or something. Maybe. I don't know." She threw up her hands in exasperation. "This is all so confusing. So scary."

"Shhhh." Matt whispered, pulling her into his arms. "Don't you forget that me and Jeff and Lita are here for you. Look how well you're doing already. You've got friends and a job."

The red head nodded, the back of her mind questioning ever so silently -

Hadn't she had friends and a job before?

~*~Part Eleven~*~

Buffy soon found that their hotel room was far, far too small for two grown adults and one grown, brooding vampire. Angel, she had quickly discovered, was just as disturbed over Willow's disappearance as she and Xander were - if not more so. Willow was the reason Angel had his soul and, even though she had never been able to find a way to permanently anchor it, he felt understandably grateful to her. So much so that having to work her missing person's case was wearing him down, ever so slowly.

"You need to go find some baddie to beat the hell out of."

Angel turned, raising an eyebrow at his ex. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Mister Brood and Pace, you need to go find someone nice and evil-like and beat the hell out of him. Or her. Baddies can be girls, too."

That brought a small, half-smile, to Angel's lips. "Can't do that."

"Why?" The Slayer sighed, throwing up her hands in exasperation. The look on her face clearly said that she would do just about anything to get him out of her hair at that point.

"Sun's out." He smirked.

"Oh. Well. Then. Fine!"

Xander snickered, despite the pain he was feeling in his heart.

"Wanna go for a walk, Buff?"

The Slayer paused, giving Xander an incredulous look. It faded quickly, though. "Yes! Good idea."

She was out of the door before Xander could even get off the bed, Angel narrowly leaping out of the way of the sunlight that suddenly came in the room.

"Betcha never thought you'd see the day she couldn't wait to get away from ya, huh, Deadboy." Xander snickered, patting the vampire on the shoulder as he exited the room.

Angel snorted, flopping onto one of the beds as the door to the room closed again, leaving him in blessed semi-darkness. He closed his eyes, flinging an arm over the closed lids, prepared to get a little rest before Buffy and Xander returned. They didn't seem to get the point that he was a -nocturnal- creature and that this was, technically, a time he would like to be sleeping.

"Or," He muttered darkly. "Knowing Xander, he -does- know and just wants to keep me awake out of pure torture."

Yeah. That had to be the reason.

He sighed, exhaling a breath that he had taken more out of some long past human habit than any actual need. Sleep was creeping in at the edge of his mind, tingeing his thoughts with a cloudy haze. In fact, it looked like he was about to get that sleep he finally needed.

And then the phone rang.

The normally smooth vampire reached for the phone, fumbling it the first time. It clattered and clanked its way onto the nightstand and then onto the floor, a male voice echoing through it in an obvious state of confusion.

"Hello? Hello?"

Angel grabbed at the corded, hauling the phone onto the bed and then, finally, to his ear. "Hello?"

"I'm looking for a Buffy Summers."

"Is this Director White?" The man's voice sounded slightly familiar. And, since he was the only one that had the number other than the crew back in LA, Angel was able to put two and two together pretty quick.

"Yes. Who is this?" Director White was cautious. A good thing in a doctor. Wouldn't want to release information to the wrong person.

"Angel. We met last night. I was with Buffy. We've been expecting your call."

"Oh yes. Of course." He paused and then - "Well. You'll be happy to know that I found out who your friend left with, though I'm afraid I can't give you much information on him. I'm not aware of his address. Shouldn't be too hard. He's somewhat of a celebrity. Him and his brother, that is. Wrestlers."

"Wrestlers? As in the Olympics?"

"No, no." The older man chuckled across the line. "Nothing so decorous. They're professional wrestlers. The type on television."

"Do you know his, their, whoever - do you have any names?"

Director White paused, and Angel could hear the shuffling of papers in the background as the man searched for that information.

"Here we are." He said at last. "One of my nurses was all too delighted to tell me all about these young men. I think she's somewhat smitten with them."

Angel closed his eyes, listening as the Director rambled on and on about his opinion of wrestling and the men that did it. He prayed to the Powers for strength to not blow up at the babbling man, especially since he had gone out of his way to be helpful. He sensed his moment of opportunity after a good two minutes of constant babbling. It was a babble that would have made Willow proud.

"Doctor," Angel spoke, as the man took a deep breath to no doubt continue upon his tirade of wrestling and wrestlers. "Their names, please?"

The doctor paused, and there was some more rustling of papers. Angel closed his eyes, grinding his teeth together in frustration. This man had seemed so collected the night before and now he couldn't hold a thought together for ten minutes. The only thing the vampire could think was that maybe the man had been on duty for more hours than any human being should truly be awake.

The Director chuckled. "Ah. There it is."

"Yes?" Angel waited patiently, the small notepad he had found on the nightstand already in hand.

"The man who she appears to have left with is the same one that rescued her - a Mr. Matt Hardy."

~*~

Dawn had woken early. Early for her, that was, since she usually slept until at least one or two when Buffy wasn't trying to make her 'responsible'. She slipped on a pair of sweat pants and a tank top, tossing her pajamas into the corner, and went out into the hallway. The door to Cordelia's room was still closed. The blonde haired teen blinked sleepily. She could hear noise from the lobby as she rounded the bend in the hallway, the stairs downwards in view.

Cheering. Screaming. It sounded like some sort of sports show. She sighed. Spike was awake already.

She placed a hand on the railing, trailing her fingers down the wood lightly as she made her way down the stairs. The sounds grew louder as she came closer to the lobby, though. They seemed to be repeating? The same chant could be heard, the same thuds, the same cries - now that she was listening and paying attention she realized it was only the space of a few seconds worth of tape that she could possibly be hearing.

"Spike?"

There was no answer.

She stepped off the last of the stairs, walking around and into the back corner where the television and couches were set up. Spike was there, leaning forward, the remote in his hand. His eyes were round, mouth open.

"What's wrong?" She asked quietly.

"Come here and see this. Tell me I'm not bloody dreaming."

That was all he said. Dawn could hear the tape rewinding again, could see Spike's finger pressing the pause button. He was waiting for her.

"What're we watching?" She asked curiously, walking past the television to sit next to Spike on the couch. She couldn't see much of anything on the TV yet. The scene was caught in that blurry haze of pausing and it was all fuzzy. There was a man, two of them actually. And one seemed to be leaping onto the other off of some sort of ropes.

"Last night's wrestling." Spike muttered. "I had it taping so's I could watch it during the day when I needed a good spot of violence."

"O-k." Dawn drawled. "Play on, Spikey One."

She barely registered that he had started the tape before the action began again. And then she saw it. The thing that he had to have been agonizing over each time he had rewound the tape.

"Play it again."

He didn't nod. He didn't even say a word. Just did what she asked.

"Is it - "

"I think so. Wanted someone else's opinion. They even said her name when she came out with those two gits."

Dawn felt her heart leap into her throat. There she was, after all this time searching for her and there she was, on national television. Walking out with two hottie wrestlers, at that.

"Willow."

~*~Part Twelve~*~

"You've been summoned."

"Huh?" Willow looked up, confused, from her magazine. It was basically just a travel brochure type thing, but the cover had boasted thirty-five pages of California 'hot spots', and she had bought it on impulse, hoping to see something to trigger even more memories of her home and who she was. So far though, nothing. The vineyards and majestic hills looked great, but not familiar.

Matt grinned at his girlfriend, pulling her to her feet.

"Vince wants to see you in his room. Now. Stephanie just told me."

The red head blinked in surprised shock. Not even a week into her new job and already she was getting summoned to the boss's office. She'd have to check into whether or not that was a company record.

"Do you know what he wants?" She asked nervously. Matt was rubbing her arms now, his warm hands tracing smooth patterns up and down her skin.

"No clue." He shrugged. "Doubt its anything to worry about, though."

"Yeah, right." Willow smirked. "I've already figured out that getting called to see him isn't a good thing most of the time." She thought back on the previous night when Booker T had been called in to see Vince. That had meant that the former champion was getting placed in a handicap match. It had not ended prettily for him.

Matt leaned down enough to kiss Willow lightly on the lips, his mouth hovering over hers. She tasted as sweet as fresh honey, as delicate as the finest champagne.

"Keep. That. Up." Willow breathed between kisses, her mouth opening and responding to his with all of the passion she had kept bottled up during the weeks they had been trying to bide their time without getting involved with each other. She pulled back from him at last, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm never going to get to Vince's room at this rate."

The dark haired wrestler sighed in all too real disappointment. But, she was right. She had a meeting to attend, in the head honcho's room. And he needed to lead her there.

"Fine." He grumbled, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the room before his hormones could take over for him further.

As they walked down the hall, Willow allowed her mind to wander over the reasons why Vince could possibly want to see her. The walk was short, though, and before she could think up a single irrational theory as to why she was being summoned, Matt had knocked on a door.

From within the room Vince's booming voice invited them to enter. Willow took a deep breath, trying futilely to calm herself as she followed Matt into the room. Despite the fact that he was the CEO of a large and successful company, Vince appeared to be staying in a room with similar quality to her own. He was currently lounging on his bed, feet up, the television on the nightly news. It was not the scene she would normally expect to see him in, looking so relaxed and comfortable. He was even wearing what looked like some sort of pajamas or lounging clothes - definitely not a suit and tie.

"Ah, Willow. Matt." Vince smiled warmly. "Thanks for coming by so soon."

"H-Have I done something wrong?" She asked immediately, cursing herself for the stutter that accompanied the query.

"No, my dear." He informed her gently. "In fact, quite the opposite. I have some good news for you."

"Good news?" She perked up, sitting on one of the chairs nearest the bed. "For me? Are you sure? Because I don't seem to be the type of girl to get good news." She frowned. "Or, at least, that's what I remember. I think."

Vince chuckled politely. The confused look on her face as she attempted to sort through the few memories she had of her past was priceless. That would be eclipsed in a moment, he knew, with the information he was about to give her. News that would rock the little world she had built up for herself.

Though for better or worse, he didn't know.

"Our home offices got a call this morning." He began slowly, pulling a sheet of paper from his nightstand. He held it out to her, waving it slightly as if to say 'go ahead, take it'.

Willow stood, walking the short distance between herself and Vince, and took the paper. She looked down at it in confusion, staring at the names that were written there, the phone numbers beside them. And, across the top, a single name that stood out unlike any of the others.

Willow Anne Rosenberg.

She knew, as if by instinct, that that was her name. It wasn't just that she saw her first name and put two and two together. No, there was something entirely different about this type of recognition. Her heart cried out that -this- woman, Willow Anne Rosenberg, was one and the same with herself.

"Someone --?" She whispered, turning to Vince. Her eyes were bright with tears. This could only mean that her dreams had been answered. Behind her, she could almost feel Matt's confusion. He couldn't see the paper unless he stood up and, for the moment, he was giving her some privacy instead of peering over her shoulder.

Vince nodded. "Someone saw you last night and recognized you. Those are the names of your closest friends, as I understand it."

Willow barely heard Matt's gasp, her eyes flying back to the paper and the names she had only skimmed over moments before. Now she looked at them fully, begging whatever deity was listening for some further glimpses, if not outright realization, of her former life.

Buffy and Dawn Summers. Flashes of blonde hair, blue eyes, ran through her mind. Buffy was the oldest, she remembered. And Dawn was her little sister. Their mother was dead and their father didn't spend any time with them. It didn't seem like much, but it was a wealth of information to the red head that was holding so tightly to the sheet of paper in her hand.

Next on the list was Xander Harris. His name brought up feelings of security, of friendship. He wasn't her lover, she knew that right away. More like a best friend. There were no images in her head to associate with his name, just the overwhelming sense of home.

There were other names - Angel and Spike amongst them. These two she didn't remember anything about, though maybe this Angel girl was another of her best friends?

"You're from somewhere called Sunnydale, in California." Vince informed her, still gently. He could tell that she was in shock. Best to move slowly with her. The last thing he needed was for one of the brightest young divas on the roster to fall over in a dead faint.

"Sit down." Matt ordered, pulling her physically into a chair when it was obvious she was beyond hearing. He knelt in front of her chair, staring into her tear-streaked face. "Are you happy?"

Willow nodded, tearing her eyes from the sheet of paper and staring into Matt's warm eyes.

"I'm happy." She assured him. "Just shocked. Scared. I see names and feel.things. But it still doesn't tell me who I am. I need. I need.." She stood suddenly, steadying herself by placing a hat on Matt's shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Vince called after her, hearing the door to his room open.

There was a pause and then he could almost hear the smile in her voice.

"To call them!"

~*~

Willow hung up the phone, wiping the tears from her eyes. She had spoken with everyone on that piece of paper, one by one, finding that she only needed to make two calls to do it. These people, her friends, were close, and had been together since the time they had realized she was gone.

She had listened to them cry and try to tell them about her life. But it was too hard this way, over the phone. Too impersonal to listen to the story of her life from hundreds or thousands of miles away.

"Tomorrow?"

Willow turned to Matt, a hesitant smile on her face. She nodded. "Tomorrow."

The wrestler sighed, leaning back into his pillows. He patted the bed next to him, begging her silently to come offer him comfort just as he had done for her in the past. He needed it now, to hear her say -

"I don't have a boyfriend." She whispered, crawling up the bed to him. "Or a husband. I'm a single woman and I'm still head over heels for you. Talking with them didn't change that."

"And when you finally remember?" He asked, eyes closed, unwilling to look in her eyes for fear he'd see something to make him break down. He had always known this time would come, and had prayed for it to be sooner rather than later simply for her sake; but that didn't make it any easier to deal with now that it was here.

"When I remember," Willow smiled seductively. "I'm nearly one hundred percent positive that I will still want to be in your arms." She leaned her head against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

"I'm your girl, Matt Hardy."

And, for that he was thankful.

~*~Part Thirteen~*~

Tomorrow dawned with seeming quickness, leaving Willow gasping to get her own emotions under control. She paced the length of her hotel room, stalking the length of it back and forth, back and forth, trying to get her nerves under control. They would be here soon and she would be meeting them for the 'first time'.

She knew, in the logical part of her mind and maybe even a small part of her heart, that this wasn't the 'first time' she was meeting them. Not by a long shot. They were her 'family' from what she understood. They were the friends that were always there for her and had worried over her for weeks and weeks. They were frantic to see her again because they missed her so much. And that touched a spark of something inside of her that she recognized on some deeper level.

She missed them, too; or, at least, she missed what they represented. A home. Family. Close friends. She wanted to remember so badly.

And that was why they were on their way here, now. Matt had gone to the airport to pick them up, leaving her to get her emotions straight before dealing with these people that were going to be so overly enthusiastic to see her. She could understand why, of course. But what was it going to be like? Seeing them again? They were going to want to hug her. To hold her. There was only going to be two of them right now. Buffy and Xander. They were the first wave, as far as she understood, with Spike, Angel and Dawn wanting to come eventually as well if they couldn't job her memory.

There would be an eventual trip back to Sunnydale, she knew. If for nothing else to just try to trigger some spark of remembrance in her, as unlikely as that may seem. She was beginning to think that regaining her memories was something of a pipe dream - nothing that she would ever fully realize. Maybe she just wasn't meant to remember her past. Maybe it was better this way. If her Goddess, and she was dead sure that she was in fact a worshipper of the Goddess, didn't want her to know - who was she to try to remember?

But these people were her family. Her friends. She was right to attempt to recapture what she had lost. And - if it was meant to be, it was meant to be. She'd remember when her body and mind, and perhaps soul and heart, were meant to realize who she had been before the mugger attacked her.

Before Matt came into her life.

She flopped back on the hotel bed, squinching her eyes closed. The anticipation was proving to be almost more of a pain than that actual meeting could possibly be.

Or, at least, she hoped.

~*~

She heard the sounds of the door opening, as if coming through a thick, cottony wall. It roused her from the haze of sleep that had fallen upon her between that moment and the time that she had laid down. She sat up, smiling with a tint of confusion when Matt walked in the door.

Alone.

"Did they not come?" She breathed, her heart speeding up with worry and fear. Maybe they had decided that she wasn't worth it, after all. That helping her to remember wasn't worth whatever she had meant to them at one point. She felt her heart break and then mend, and then break again - all within the space of a few seconds.

"No." Matt grinned, ruefully. "They're here. Getting settled in their room, waiting to see you."

"Oh." She whispered, falling back onto the bed. The pounding fear in her heart had been replaced by abject terror. They were here. They were really, really here. And they were waiting for her to come to them, when she was ready. They were being considerate of her need to take this at her own pace.

Whatever that may be.

"Are you ready for this?" Matt asked. She felt the bed shift and knew, even with her eyes closed, that he had sat down next to her.

"I don't know."

The dark haired wrestler smirked and reached out to grab her hand, squeezing it with gentle reassurance. He brushed a piece of hair from her forehead and replaced it with a soft kiss.

"Think it will get better if you wait?"

Willow shrugged, opening her eyes to look into his.

"Probably not. I'll still be afraid."

"Of what?"

She paused, thinking hard before she answered.

"That I won't ever remember. That I'll let down these people that I can't even remember, even though in my heart I know they'll understand."

"You're heart tells you it will be okay?"

Willow nodded.

"Yeah. I guess it does."

"Then let's go do this." Matt smiled. "They've missed you terribly. All I heard on the way back from the airport was about you and Xander's days in elementary school. Something about a 'We Hate Cordelia Club'. A Barbie doll. And sharing your lunches."

The red head felt her lips twist up in a wry smile. She couldn't remember any of those events, but she knew they were meant to be humorous. They were those little moments in her life that she wanted to reclaim. Sighing, she swung her legs off the edge of the bed and took Matt's hand, pulling him up along with her.

"Okay. I'm ready."

~*~Part Fourteen~*~

Though it only took mere moments for Willow to walk to the door of the room her friends were currently waiting in, time seemed to slow to a halt for the red head. She could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, her heart racing a mile a minute in a fashion that was quite painful and led her to believe that it was completely possible to die of anxiety. Thoughts flitted through her head, in rapid succession, shattering any illusion she may have had that she wasn't rattled to the bone about what was about to happen. All of her anxiety, all of her nervousness, it all came down to those questions -

Would they hug her?

Would they cry?

Would -she- cry?

Try as she might, the young woman could not recall anything other than what she had already figured out, even faced with the fact that her 'friends' were waiting for her. She closed her eyes, leaning against the white painted wall of the hotel hallway, taking some deep breaths, willing her heart to stop trying to leap from her chest to land in a bloody splatter of pain on the floor.

"It'll be okay, Willow."

"Are you sure about that?"

Matt nodded.

"I'll be right there with you."

"I know." She smiled weakly. "And that helps, believe me, it does. But I don't know what I'm going to say to these people. They've been looking so hard for me and I can't even remember them. I can't even begin to recall what I was like around them or how we all interacted with each other. And how will they react to me, now? I don't know if I can handle them trying to get all touchy. I mean, they're practically strangers to me, Matt."

Her voice had taken on an edge of hysteria that Matt had only heard from her at a few points in their time together. He pulled her into his arms, smoothing down her hair with his hand and whispering absolute nonsense into her ear. She was shaking, but not crying, so at least her breakdown hadn't progressed to that point yet. After a few moments of that, standing right across the hall from the room her friends were in, he pushed her back enough to look in her face, his eyes darting to the door and then back to stare into the watery emerald depths of her eyes.

"You still want to do this?"

Willow nodded, swallowing hard. She flashed him a weak smile, her stomach churning with anxiety.

"I need to do this." She reaffirmed, more to herself than him. Her entire demeanor changed with that one statements, as though she had fortified herself inside to do what needed to be done and just get through it like the warrior he knew she was. "I need to know who I was before I got attacked, what kind of life I led. Things like that."

Matt nodded, knowing in his heart that she spoke the truth, yet wishing to protect her from the heartache this could all bring, the anxiety that it had already brought. He wanted to just hold her in his arms and take her away from all of this. But she had just as much of a right to know who she was as he had to want to protect her, more so even. And so he would watch her knock on that door, just as she was doing now.

He would watch the door open and the blonde and the brunette he had picked up at the airport step back, their eyes full of barely contained excitement as they regarded this woman they didn't quite know anymore and who didn't know them at all.

As if he had made it happen just by thinking of it, Matt watched as the door -did- open, and the people he had driven back from the airport opened it and stood back, letting Willow enter when she was ready. They didn't run forward to hug her, though the tears in their eyes belied the fact that they wanted to. They wanted to hold her just as much as he did. They wanted to make things better for her just as much as he could ever want to. He let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding when Willow entered the room hesitantly, glancing back at him as if to say 'are you coming'?

He stepped in behind the speechless red head, forcing himself to relax when it was clear no one else in the room was going to be the calm one. The brown haired man that had proclaimed himself to be Willow's friend since practically she was born broke down first. Tears glistened out of the corner of his eye, falling down his face in crystalline tracks of happiness and pain. It was heart wrenching, even to Matt who was standing on the outside looking in, so to speak.

"Willow." Xander whispered. His arms were crossed in front of him, as though he didn't trust himself not to pull her into his arms. That surprised Matt. That they knew not to push the boundaries Willow had set up for herself in the face of her amnesia spoke volumes about how they felt for her. They weren't going to try to force themselves on her, no matter how much their hearts really wanted them to.

"Xander?" The red head questioned. Her eyes were unfocused, as though she were trying to remember something by simply looking inside of herself. Whatever it was, though, she didn't find it. And she broke down in tears. "I'm sorry. I can't remember. I want to. Really, I do."

"Shhh." The blonde, Buffy, murmured. She took a step towards Willow and then stopped, unsure of what to do, her hands clenched at her sides. It was like something from a made for TV movie, Matt decided. Amnesia victim is reunited with her friends after much searching and no one knows how to deal with it. Sad, really.

"It'll be okay." Buffy continued, maintaining the distance between herself and the woman she loved as a sister. "You'll remember eventually."

"And if I don't?" Willow sighed. She felt very tired all of a sudden, the energy draining out of her as her anxiety left.

"Then we deal, Wills." Xander told her firmly. "We'll still be your friends, even if we have to start all over again."

The red head smiled at him.

"Thanks, Xander."

"We brought you some stuff." Buffy gestured to the bed and a box that was lying on it. "A bunch of pictures and mementos from different things. To try to help you remember." She hesitated. "Do you want to look?"

Willow nodded slowly, taking a seat on the bed next to the box. She felt the bed sink down under the weight of her friends, Matt taking the seat directly next to her. They all crowded around to look in the box with her, to help her with the memories that may come and explain away any questions she may have.

Taking a deep breath, Willow opened the box.

~*~Part Fifteen~*~

This box held, as far as Willow was concerned, a wealth of information about a life she had yet to be able to remember. It was a veritable treasure trove of information gems and tidbit-like jewels. The room was quiet as she lifted the lid, peering down into the mass of pictures, letters, and other bits of documentation that she couldn't immediately put her finger on, though she could almost swear that one of them looked like a report card. And that report card looked perfect from this angle. So she was smart, huh? Not just another pretty face?

She reached for the first picture, right on the top of the pile. It was of herself, Xander, Buffy and another blonde.

"Who's she?"

"Dawn." Buffy answered softly. "My younger sister. She'll be catching up with us in a few days, at your next location."

"Oh." Willow nodded. She could -almost- remember something about them. Something about Dawn and a key. A very important key. Maybe a house key she had lost? But it was just there, hanging on at the edge of her perception, and never quite making it fully into her conscious memories.

"You remember her?" Xander asked hopefully, after Willow had stared at the picture for a long moment.

The red head shook her head in silence. She didn't remember Dawn, just those half-formed memories that were playing havoc with her mind. She placed the picture on the bed and reached for the next.

This one was of herself and a boy. They looked much younger than she did now, so she could only assume that it was from a few years before. The boy had hair that reminded her of Jeff's, for the obvious reason that it was died a startling shade of yellow-blonde. They looked very cozy in the picture, his arm around her shoulders. She swallowed, holding up the picture.

"And this is?"

"Oz." Now it was Xander's turn to answer her question. "He was your boyfriend for a couple years back in high school. The two of you are still friends."

"I don't have a current boyfriend, though, right?" She had already been told that on the phone once, but wanted to hear it directly from their mouths.

"No." Buffy answered immediately. But her eyes flickered to Matt and a gentle smile curled up her lips. "Unless studly there has taken the job?"

Willow laughed, squeezing Matt's hand. She heard his quiet chuckle as her eyes darted over the items in the box, deciding what she wanted to review next.

"You could say that."

They sat like that for hours, with her looking at different pictures or keepsakes from the life she had led, Buffy and Xander explaining them to her, and Matt giving his own brand of quiet reassurance. It was an enjoyable experience.

But it didn't make her remember anything more than she already had.

~*~

The next night meant a match. She schooled her face into her 'game' expression, following Matt down the ramp as hundreds of cameras went off in the audience, their flashes momentarily blinding as her eyes strove to grow accustomed to the periodic bits of brightness. As they passed the front row she flashed a discreet smile at her guests for the evening, sitting as close to Matt's corner as they had been able to manage. Buffy and Xander looked quite excited to be there, even though she was pretty sure this wasn't their type of thing.

Wasn't -her- type of thing, either, from what she understood. But did it really matter that she had been a shy bookworm in her 'previous' life? The person she was now didn't think so. In fact, the person she had become felt very, very happy that she had managed to overcome a very real character flaw of her 'previous' life.

She continued with Matt to his corner, standing down on the floor and placing her hands on the mat as he went from corner to corner, posing for the crowd. A possessive smirk of a smile lit up her face. That handsome man, the one the women in the crowd were going ga-ga over? That was -her- man. Her boyfriend. She felt a rush of heat go from her face, over her chest and considerably lower, the pleasure of lust overriding her normally reserved senses about such things.

Matt's opponent for the night, a rookie that was trying to get his feet wet, came running out from behind the curtain before the tech guys could even cue his music. The red haired newbie slid into the ring, receiving one of Matt's boots in his face before he could even get onto his feet. Maybe that would teach him to slow down and start a match right next time.

She watched the match with detachment, clapping when appropriate and cheering for Matt when he was down. The crowd was behind her, behind Matt, and the heady rush of adrenaline filled her body.

And, suddenly, it was like she wasn't there at all.

Flashed of memories began to rush through her brain. Fights that she had been in. Images of creatures she had only seen on late night horror movies, but she was fighting them. Fighting alongside Buffy and Xander. It hit her, then. Buffy was the Slayer. A vampire Slayer. Vampires were real and Spike and Angel, who were anxious to be reunited with her? They were vampires. The world was spinning, the match didn't even seem real anymore.

Fresh on the tail of those memories came others, blinding flashes, more like movies of her life, playing out in the space of seconds. Was this what it felt like, she wondered? She have your memory come back after such a long time? Why had she always felt that she would just wake up one day and know all about herself? Or that, maybe, she'd get it in slow, less-painful, completely less confusing, mini-bursts of memory?

Why did it have to be like this? And now?

The bell was ringing, she could dimly hear that. Matt had won? She didn't know, didn't care. It was too confusing right now, to know her old life and deal with her new one all at once. She put her hands to her ears, trying to block out the sounds of the crowd, of the announcer, of Matt with his arm around her shoulders and his lips at her ear, asking her if she was okay. She wanted to tell him that, no - nothing was okay, that she had remembered everything and that she needed to get to the back. But her mouth wouldn't work, her lips wouldn't move. She needed to get away from these people, the ones that were staring at her, wondering if she were losing her mind or if this was part of a new storyline. She took a step forward, leaving the comfort of Matt's arms, and the world swam as she lost her footing, her head spinning as she fell towards the floor.

And then the world faded to black.

~*~Part Sixteen~*~

Willow felt like she had been hit with a truck, or a chair, really what
could be the difference, she wondered. She could hear people moving around
in the room she was in, but she didn’t want to open her eyes.

Not yet.

The last thing she could remember was leaving the ring, her head crammed
full of memories that she was struggling to make sense of, and then falling.
And then –

Nothing.

She sighed, realizing too late that that was the wrong move if she wanted to
remain blissfully unmolested by whoever was in the room with her.

"Willow?"

That was Buffy, she thought, tingly happy on the inside to know that voice
and remember exactly who Buffy was and their times together.

"Willow?"

Now that one was Matt, the newest friend in her roster of companions. He was
special, though. He was her boyfriend. A boyfriend that she had made during
those weeks that she had been under the influence of amnesia. Did that worry
her? Not in the least. She could remember their times together and knew that
he was a good man, one that was utterly worthy of her.

Xander was there, too. She could hear him whispering ‘is she okay’ in that
breathlessly worried voice of his. How many times had she heard that voice
over the course of knowing him? If anyone had asked her yesterday, she would
have said she had no clue and maybe even asked to be reminded who Xander was
to begin with. But today, in the light of regaining her memories, she knew
all about this man that was Xander Harris. She knew how he fretted when she
got hurt, how he worried when she was sick. He was her bestest friend in the
whole wide world.

And right now he was worrying about her.

She breathed out a quiet sigh and slowly fluttered her eyes open, making it
not too terribly obvious that she had been awake for quite some time. No
sense letting anyone think she was reticent to see them.

"Wills?" Now Buffy was standing right over her, worried eyes searching for
something, though Willow couldn’t tell what exactly it was.

"Hey, Buff." The red head muttered, her eyes watery just thinking about how
the next few moments were going to play out.

"Buff –" Xander’s eyes went wide and he was immediately there, pushing Buffy
out of the way. "You –"

"Yeah, Xan." Willow nodded, a faint smile on her face. "I remember. I
remember it all."

"All?" Buffy questioned. "As in Sunnyhell and everything?" She raised her
eyebrows.

"And Angel and Spike." Willow nodded, giving the blonde a knowing look. "I
really do remember it all."

The door shutting was Willow’s only cue that something was dreadfully wrong.
She looked up, noticing for the first time that Matt wasn’t there.

"Matt –" She questioned, her eyes wide.

"Was here a minute ago." Xander muttered, confused.

Willow sighed, frowning once before hauling herself from the makeshift bed
that had been set up in one of the empty locker rooms. She had to find Matt.

And quick.

~*~

Jeff looked up as his brother stumbled into their locker room, his face an
unreadable mask.

"Willow okay?" The rainbow haired wrestler asked quietly, almost afraid of
the answer judging by the serious look on Matt’s face.

"Yeah. She seems just fine." The elder of the two sighed. "She remembers
everything now."

"She does?" That got Jeff up and nearly hopping in joy. "That’s a good
thing, right?"

"Sure." Matt shrugged. "She’s talking with her friends right now."

"Why aren’t you there with her?" Now Jeff was confused. What had gotten so
screwed up in his brother’s head that this was his reaction to his
girlfriend being awake and non-amnesia-like after watching her faint on
national television?

Another shrug from Matt.

"I thought she’d like some time alone with them."

"Well then you should’ve thought harder."

The dark haired wrestler’s head snapped up, his eyes widening at the sight
standing in the doorway of the locker room. Willow, leaning heavily on the
doorframe, her face pale and drawn.

"You should still be resting." He admonished her gently, hopping up to help
her to the bench. Neither of them noticed Jeff slip out of the room, giving
them their own time together to talk.

"And you shouldn’t have run away the second I opened my eyes and proclaimed
my memory restored." She retorted, more than a little miffed at his
reaction. "Couldn’t wait to shove me off on my friends again? Was I that
much of a hardship, Matt?"

"NO!" He cried, kneeling in front of her. "You were –never- a hardship!"

"Then why’d you run out the second I woke up?" She pursed her lips, eyebrows
raised in mocking curiosity.

Matt sighed, shaking his head, and sat down next to her.

"Because I heard you say you remembered – and I was scared that you’d
remember something that made you not want to be with me anymore." He
frowned. "You’re so special to me. Even though we’ve only known each other
this short time."

"Even though you hardly knew me at all?" She prompted quietly.

"Of course!" He growled. "I find it hard to believe you’re anything other
than the wonderful woman that you were even when you had no clue who you
were or where you’re from."

Willow smiled gently and brushed a piece of hair back from his face. It was
still damp with sweat, she couldn’t have been out very long. She met his
brown eyes, shaking her head, a small smile wavering across her lips.

"You really are a piece of work." The red head grinned admonishingly. "Just
because I got my memories back doesn’t mean I lost all my common sense. Why
would I want you out of my life, hmm? Because you’re wonderful and handsome?
Because you are kind and caring? Because I love you very much?" She laughed
lightly at the expression on his face. "I said I was your girl, Matt Hardy."

Her lips brushed against his her eyes closing as they partook of the
sweetness of each other’s mouths.

"My girl?" He asked, the questions written all over his face.

"Yup. Your girl. Even now that I remember about my home and friends. Who are
probably very much wondering why I ran out of that locker room like I was on
fire." She grinned ruefully. "’Sides, I’m still under contract, you know.
You can’t get rid of me that easily."

Matt snorted, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

"As if I’d want to."

~*~The End~*~