The world comes into focus slowly, and the first thing I’m aware of is that I’ve got something over my face. I reach up, but before I can get halfway there my hand stops, and I open my eyes. “What the-”

“They had to restrain you when you kept trying to touch your cheek,” a raspy voice says next to me and I turn my head slowly to see Willow, her eyes red and puffy. Obviously she’s been crying, but why? “They wanted you to sleep.”

“I can’t feel anything,” I slur, blinking. “Well, it’s hard to blink.”

“Yeah, that’s the bandage. You’ve got another on your back, but they didn’t want to lay you face down because of the smoke inhalation. I guess it helps you breathe more easily when you’re on your back,” she says, taking my hand. “You had us worried there for a little while.”

“Us?” I ask, my head still woozy. “Willow, what happened?”

“There was a fire… jeez, they must have given you the good drugs,” Willow says softly. “Good, you should stay as doped as you want for a few days. Chrissy… you got burned. On your face, and your back.”

“How bad?” I ask, curiously detached. “Like, bad-bad?”

“Your modeling career’s probably never going to launch,” Willow says, trying to be a wiseass and failing, “but I’ll still be happy to go suntanning with my favorite bitch anytime.”

“So I guess you still need a winggirl?” I ask, and Willow chuckles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, anytime. Anyway, there was a fire, and Dan pulled you out-”

“Dan’s here?” I ask, totally awake now and a deep feeling of urgency filling me. “Where is he? Dan? Dan!”

“Shhh… goddamn bitch, you go from zero to sixty like a fucking Ferrari,” Willow says, waving me down. “It’s four in the morning, chill! He’s just on the other side of the ER, they gave him some sedatives too so they could treat his bullheaded ass. Now don’t sweat, I sweet talked a nurse into telling me he just had smoke inhalation and a minor burn on his cheek… actually right about where yours is. Oh, and he tweaked a knee, but that’s minor. His hands got a little extra tasty crispy, but just second degree. Let the man sleep.”

I nod, but swallow. “Please Willow, I need to see him. Can you get a doctor or someone?”

Willow nods, pushing the button above my bed, and moments later a doctor’s there. “Yes, Miss O’Hara? Pain?”

“No… I want to see Dan,” I rasp, my breath coming in short fits. “God I can’t breathe well.”

“Smoke inhalation will do that to you,” the doctor says. “Soot, carbon monoxide, all sorts of yummy stuff that you’re not supposed to have in the morning. Okay, let me check you out, see if we can let you move some… but just across the ER, okay?”

I nod, and a few minutes later I’m slowly walking across the ER, Willow at my arm as I use my IV bag pole for support. Every breath sucks, but I don’t care. Instead I make my way to the curtained off area where a nurse slowly reveals Dan, making sure there’s no rattling as the curtain draws back along its track.

His face is bandaged on his already burned side and his hands are wrapped, but he sleeps, and tears trickle down my face. “He saved me?”

“From what they told me, he pulled you out himself and was giving mouth to mouth when the fire department got to your house,” Willow says quietly. “About your house-”

“I don’t care… we’ll find out later,” I reply, stepping forward. Reaching the side of Dan’s bed, I brush a lock of his hair out of his face, looking at him. “He’s so… beautiful.”

Dan stirs, his eyes fluttering open. “They must have you on the good shit.”

“You heard me?” I ask, and Dan nods. “How much?”

“Just that last bit,” he admits. “Chrissy, I’m so-”

I cut him off, leaning down and kissing him softly. Both of our lips are chapped, and it’s probably the least sexy kiss I’ve ever had in my life, but I don’t care. It’s what is behind my kiss that counts, and when Dan touches my lips with his tongue I open up, tasting him carefully. Pulling back, I look into his eyes. “I love you.”

Dan swallows, his voice breaking. “I love you too.”

“Then rest,” I whisper. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

“Or at least after sunup,” Willow says, helping me back up. “You, little missy, need to get back to bed yourself. And Dan… good job.”

Walking back, I sit back gingerly, hissing. “Damn… back now.”

“Yeah well, we have something for that,” the doctor says, pulling out a syringe. “See you around noon.”

Guess they really do have me on the good shit.