"The Subtle Notes In-Between"

Chapter 3

"Buffy?" Spike half moaned and half groaned. His cock was beginning to twitch, just from the soft touch of her fingers on his face. Her scent swarmed his senses, overwhelming him and sating him in the same breath.

"Hmm?" She ran her finger through his hair, so caught up in the delight of being able to touch him that she forgot about all the icky demon blood that was caked in it. Hair of Spike was all that she could hear over and over in her head.

"Luv, please," Spike begged. He didn't want to pitch a tent in front of Peaches and the Immortal git.

Buffy pulled her hands away reluctantly and then glanced down at Spike's set jaw and flared nostrils, an expression coupled with the sloe-eyed look he was flashing her from under his thick lashes, and oh boy was she glad she’d managed to save those from being burned off. It was a combination she was all too familiar with. One that usually was followed by her being shagged six ways from Sunday, and boy did she miss her Spike specials, ones that lasted for hours and hours.

Spike arched one of his missing eyebrows at her, but the impact was amusingly lessened as it looked like his forehead was undergoing a massive spasm. He panted slightly as the perfume of her arousal wafted across his already heightened senses. Spike greedily gulped it in the scent of his girl, something that had been a much missed element of his life. Even when they had been mortal enemies and fighting tooth and nail there had been that sweet perfume.

But since LA he had nothing to remind himself of her. Nothing at all, not even a picture. He had spent hours snooping through the Poof's belongings hoping for a snapshot, he'd even resigned himself to one with Peaches looming over her petite form, but there had been none. It was during a late night drinking session with Wes that he had found out that Cordelia had suggested to Angel a clear out and burning of all things Sunnydale to help him move on.

Wes had echoed Spike's snort and nodded briefly when Spike had commented on Cordelia's insecurity and Angel's stupidity in allowing himself to be lead. But then again, Angel was always one for being lead around by the cock by a strong-willed woman. Darla, Buffy and it appeared that the cheerleader could be added to that list, and to some extent Eve and Lilah could have been added to the end.

Spike licked his lips and inhaled her delicate scent once more, amazed at how it managed to overpower the hospital smells. Buffy ran her fingers through her short hair, trying to adjust to its new length. It was one thing to chop it all off in a fit of pique directed at the same vampire that lay rigid on his bed trying to control himself, but for her to cut it off because she sacrificed it to save him was a bird of a different colour. It was a good haircut, resulting from a good reason and not a mean action designed to hurt. She took a deep breath and tried to reinforce her traumatised sense of chic, which had retreated to the corner of her mind clutching metaphorical burnt golden strands of hair and was weeping over them. 'Time to be a grown up about it. Suck it up, Summers.'

Buffy gave her newly shorn hair a pat and then looked over at Paolo who was staring at the still comatose Angel. She shuddered again at the extent of his injuries, but as Paolo had said they resulted from his own hubris. Still, he looked a mess and she was not looking forward to explaining to him that his fighting buddy Charles Gunn had died in the fight that he had instigated against the Square of pricks…whoever. Buffy wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged herself, trying to banish the sight of Gunn's mangled body from her mind. She also wondered if Angel had known about Wes, the freaky blue stringbean had said she told them but the blonde girl wondered if Angel would remember anything. His skull had been caved in by the fall and the surgeons were waiting for him to stabilise before they operated.

"Cara?" Paolo placed a concerned hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed it; he smirked at Spike's growl and teased the wounded vampire a bit more by wrapping his arm around her slender shoulders.

Spike glared at the handsome man mauling his Slayer. He was dressed in Valentino from head to toe: a white linen shirt that hung off his broad shoulders and over the loose grey slacks, hair perfectly styled and hung loose, brushing his shoulders and framing his aquiline face. The dark black hair was a startling contrast to the pale grey eyes that twinkled merrily at Spike. His full mouth was curled up in the wide smirk-- one to rival Spike's own smirk. Spike's demon surged to the fore and began to growl even louder. He wanted to scratch the smarmy sod's eyes out for looking so perfect when he was crisped around the edges.

"Jeez, what's with the bear impersonations?"

Spike's game face dropped at the sound of her voice, his golden eyes faded to the more familiar pale azure and a genuine smile creased his face. "Nibblet?"

"Spike! What happened to your face? You look weird!" Dawn threw herself at the smiling vampire and carefully wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "How bad are you beat up? Are you going to be okay? Whoa, will they grow back?" She babbled at Spike and then her eyes narrowed. Spike gulped. He recognised that look; it was the same one Joyce had given him after smacking him in the head with an axe all those years ago.

"Daw...Dawn, now luv, wait."

Dawn slapped him around the back of the head. Her actions causing both Buffy and Paolo to step forward and protest that he was injured. Spike winced and looked down.

"You doofus! You never called! We thought you were dead! I felt bad cos of the way I left stuff with you. You do know I would never have set you on fire, right? I was just so mad about what happened and then you were gone and I lost you." Dawn’s face crumpled and she burst into tears. "I missed you!" she wailed and buried her face in the crook of Spike's neck.

"Missed you too, luv, missed you too. M'sorry. Thought you and big sis wouldn't have time for the Big not-so-Bad. Wanted you to have a good life without any grotty memories popping up." Spike carefully wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. His entire body screaming in pain, he could feel a wound on his back had re-opened and was bleeding, but he wouldn't change anything for the world.

He had his Nibblet back and from what it seemed, his Slayer was happy to see him, too.

"Cara, he is bleeding again. I will send for the physician." With that, Paolo retreated and left the three of them to reacquaint themselves.

Buffy cautious approached Spike and sat down on the edge of the bed and rested her hand on his blanket covered knee. She checked his back to make sure it wasn't too serious and then laid her head on his shoulder.

"Oh my god, your hair looks so cute, Buffy!" Dawn had pulled back from Spike's throat and rested her head on his free shoulder and had, for the first time, seen her sister's hair.

"It's okay?" Buffy asked, her womanly vanity still firmly in place.

"Oh yeah, too cute. It looks like Keira Knightly's new cut, really sweet. I love it. Oh, we could get Gianni to put in some really amazing highlights. It'd look awesome."

"Spike doesn't think so. First thing he said was what had I done to my hair!" Buffy couldn't resist prodding the silent vampire in the leg. As soon as he had a double armful of Summers women he had gone quiet, sheer contentment had filled him and he had curled his free arm around Buffy's waist and gone quiet, unwilling to spoil the moment.

"Spike." Dawn glared in sisterly support at the mute vampire. She then prodded him on the cheek. "Is he okay?"

"M'fine Nibs, just enjoying the Summers hug, missed you both."

"Betyah didn't miss me as much as Buffy," Dawn teased.

Spike stared at the young woman curled up at his side. She had grown in the last year into a right smart young lady. His lip curled at the thought of all the spotty Italian gits that would've been eyeballing his girl. 'I'll have to sort em out.'

"Did you, Spike?" Dawn prompted.

"Missed you both in different ways," Spike answered quickly, unwilling to be the cause of a Dawn poutfest.

A slight grunt from the other bed reminded them all that there was another person in the room. Buffy-- instead of pulling away-- pressed herself against Spike in the hope that if she kept reminding him by physical contact that she was there, then he'd not leave. Dawn on the other hand, hopped off the bed and peeked at Angel, her mouth compressed into a moue of disgust.

"Wow, he's really a mess. What happened to his arm?" Dawn peered at the bandaged stub curiously. "Will it grow back, being a vamp and… oh whoa, he's got a heart beat. That's freaky. What the hell happened?"

"Some sort of lizard demon bit it off," Buffy replied.

"Love, it was a dragon," Spike interjected. His entire being was in shock from her continued touching and her obvious delight at seeing him.

"Hardly," Buffy snorted. "I've met dragons and they are nothing like that kinda fugly!" Buffy shrugged dismissively. "The heartbeat, not too sure. Spike whined about something called a Shoeshine."

"Shanshu," Spike corrected her with a grin. He knew that his Slayer did the mispronunciation thing deliberately-- originally to bug the crap out of her Watcher, and then it stuck.

"Wow, Angel really isn't gonna be happy with his hair." Dawn grimaced at the state of her sister’s ex.

"Prolly not. Peaches was always one for his barnet being jus'right." Spike cautiously reached over and entwined his fingers with Buffy's. When she didn't pull away he smiled and pulled her closer, ignoring the screams of pain from his muscles.

The door clicked open and a doctor walked in, followed by the Immortal. The doctor gestured for Buffy to get off the bed and began to check Spike's back, tutting under his breath.

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