Disclaimer: All recognizable names and places associated with Buffy the Vampire Slayer are property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy productions. Anyone/thing you've never heard of is probably mine.

Prologue

Buffy Summers wasn't supposed to get sick.

The Slayer package came standard with accelerated healing abilities and an uber-strong immune system. Bruises disappeared in hours, cuts closed without stitches, and broken bones mended in days. Buffy hadn't been to a doctor since she turned thirteen and her mother dragged her in for one of those kind of check-ups. She hadn't been in a hospital since her cousin Celia died when she was eight.

Both were traumatic experiences Buffy tried hard to repress.

But now, in some small part of her feverish brain, Buffy was lucid enough to realize that Slayers weren't supposed to get the flu. They weren't supposed to pass out in cemeteries while partaking in the sacred act of slayage—how pathetic was that? Some small part of Buffy also knew she was going to feel humiliated when she finally came to her senses. She had actually fainted in front of Angel.

Angel.

Buffy groaned at the thought of her vampire ex-boyfriend-turned-nemesis prowling around with Sunnydale unprotected. She had to get out of this hospital. She had to stop Angel—no, Angelus—from killing again.

Swallowing against the waves of nausea she shouldn't be feeling, Buffy managed to roll onto her side and prop herself up on trembling elbows. Even the small amount of movement was exhausting for the normally resilient young demon hunter. Who knew the Slayer strength and stamina could be zapped by some virus?

"Hold it right there, Missy."

"Huh..Uh?" Buffy blinked hazily up at the young doctor who seemingly appeared out of nowhere and pushed her back against the pillows.

At least, Buffy thought the pretty redhead was a doctor. She was wearing a white lab coat over blue scrubs, and there was a pink stethoscope slung over one shoulder. In the dim night lighting of the hospital room, however, she didn't look much older than Buffy.

"Just where do you think you're going?" The doctor's tone was agitated, but her movements were gentle as she deftly straightened out the stiff cotton sheets and plastic IV tubing in which Buffy had become hopelessly tangled.

"Mmm not 'posed to be here," Buffy mumbled, too weak to resist being tucked in by a professional.

"Oh yes, you are," the doctor replied absently as she removed a bag of blood from the hook next the bed and replaced it with one of clear liquids. "Believe me."

Buffy thought that was kind of weird. If they were giving her blood, shouldn't the bag be empty instead of full?

"Whatcha doin?" Buffy slurred, her vision blurring around the edges. Something didn't seem quite right about this woman, but she was just … too … tired to care. The fever must be making her spidey sense wonky.

The doctor paused, blood bag in hand, and regarded Buffy thoughtfully for a moment. With a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was looking, she leaned in close and placed a perfectly manicured hand on Buffy's burning forehead. Her mesmerizing sea green eyes captured the Slayer's undivided attention.

"Everything's fine, Buffy," the doctor promised, soothing the agitated Slayer with her beautiful voice and smile.

A feeling of complete and utter calmness washed over Buffy, who was suddenly willing to believe anything the pretty lady said.

"Now, go to sleep," the woman ordered. "And when you wake up, you won't remember me. Okay?"

"'Kay," Buffy mumbled, settling back into the padding. She managed a sleepy smile of her own before her eyes slipped closed.

Then, with a contented sigh, the Slayer fell into a deep sleep.

And with a satisfied smirk, the doctor quickly sealed the blood bag and slipped out of the room undetected.

It was a busy night at Sunnydale General thanks to a nasty strain of flu sweeping through town. None of the hospital personnel batted a suspicious eye as the young woman strode confidently down the hallway, and ducked into the doctor's locker room.

When an attractive brunette with striking green eyes exited the hospital ten minutes later, no one suspected she had a red wig and a bag of fresh Slayer blood tucked away in her designer shoulder bag.

AN: First story! Please review!