Spike could hear the band arguing in the kitchen from where he sat on the porch, watching the final evidence of the sun disappear over the trees. The sky was fading from pink to blue, just safe enough for him to go outside without being burnt to a crisp. The band was deciding on a name for the contest at the Bronze, which was in a week. It had been ten days since the kiss, which was followed by a not-mentioning period, which still hadn't ended. This was fine with Spike, since Dawn wasn't angry at him, as far as he could tell. There was a tension, though, that refused to dissipate, and made them both jumpy around eachother. A brush of hands was enough to send them both off to opposite sides of the house. Spike sighed and crushed out his cigarette and went inside to get his duster and the weapons bag for patrol. The burns had healed almost completely, and Dawn had declared him well enough to patrol (without touching him and looking at the burns for only seconds at a time).

"I think it should definitely be Hellmouth-related." Card was saying around a mouthful of cheetos.

"I agree with him." Jag said with a nod, "Vampy."

"Don't you think it would freak people out just a little if we were called The Vampire Killers or something?" Dawn said, "I mean, morbid much?"

"Why don't you use a metaphor or something, then?" Spike interjected, "Something symbolic."

They all turned to look at him, Dawn keeping minimal eye contact. Ian swallowed his pizza, "Like what?"

Spike shrugged, "I'm a vampire, what can you say about me that's not morbid but still matches Sunnydale?"

Everyone but Dawn studied him.

"Fangs."

"Cold"

"Bloodless"

"Dust."

Spike glared at Mia for that suggestion and she smiled sheepishly, "Sorry."

"Pale." Dawn said softly, and they all turned to her. She was staring at Spike, lost in her own little world, "White like the moonlight, and pale like my soul..."

"Um, OK?" Card said, "Can we please snap out of it?"

Dawn suddenly came back to the present, "Sorry...mind dribble."

"Ya think?" Mia commented.

Spike watched her intently, then said, "Pale's a good name for a band."

The band in question all looked at eachother. Jag shrugged, "I like it."

And it was decided. Pale would be the new band name, and after conversation started up they had all forgotten about Dawn's little adventure into LaLa Land and her poetic moment.