The Summers girls managed to wring every last minute they could out of the nurses at the hospital, so by the time they were finally ushered out dusk was already falling. They were both stiff and tired and hungry, full of kinks and knots from a day in horrible plastic chairs, exhausted from the emotional stress, but spending the day with their mom, seeing her on her way back to health and happiness had been totally worth the aches and grumbles. Buffy had hoped that Spike would show up as the sun began to go down and early dusk settled, but there had been no sign of the vampire. A part of her worried that she might have driven him off again with the one-eighty she'd pulled, but as she turned her mom's jeep carefully into the driveway, the warm glow of a light through the front windows reassured her that maybe she hadn't.

Unfortunately, it was only an illusion.

Stepping through the front door, Buffy listened with half an ear while Dawn called out for Spike, locking the front door carefully behind them before twitching the curtains aside to peek out at the darkened street. She always started to get a bit nervy when she hadn't done a patrol, hyper-alert and aware of every shadow.

Funny then that she didn't immediately notice the distinct absence of vampire tingles on the back of her neck.

"He's not here," Dawn huffed with a pout, crossing her arms as she came back out into the living room.

"What?" Buffy frowned, reached out for his familiar signature, going cold when she couldn't find it. Had she really done it then?

"Well… maybe he had to check on something," Dawn offered halfheartedly, clearly only attempting to make her sister feel better. It was painfully obvious to Buffy that she didn't believe her own words.

Sighing heavily, Buffy felt her heart sinking down to the floor. Her pillows were stacked neatly at the end of the couch she noticed, and the sight of them was somehow terribly painful, tears suddenly threatening as she considered the possibility that everything she'd said hadn't been enough.

That because she hadn't been able to take that last step, hadn't been able to give him what she knew he wanted… needed so badly to hear… it hadn't been enough.

"Let's just… think about it tomorrow, ok Dawnie," she asked, suddenly overcome with a wave of exhaustion. "Focus on getting mom home and making sure everything's set for her to get better."

"Maybe we can clean the house up a little," the teenager offered, reaching up to cover a yawn halfway through. "Make a nice dinner."

At the mention of dinner Dawn's stomach rumbled and her cheeks flushed pink. Hungry herself, Buffy rubbed her sister's back before pushing her gently into the kitchen.

"Come on, let's make some sandwiches," she said quietly.

"Blech," Dawn scoffed in protest, but Buffy didn't have to look too hard to see that the teen was feeling just as weary and miserable as the Slayer felt.

"I know," she offered, planting her hands flat between her sister's shoulder blades and giving her a little push. "But we're both too tired to cook. I'll make a real breakfast tomorrow ok."

"Fine," the girl grumbled leaning all her weight back against her sister in a slump as Buffy steered her towards the kitchen island. Buffy was just about to drop her onto the floor, her own strength evaporating like nothing after the day they'd had, when suddenly the teenager perked up and bounded forward with a happy yip.

"Hey, is that a note?!"

Buffy felt her belly swoop and without her permission her hand came up to grab the folded piece of paper she now spotted propped against the fruit bowl in the middle of the counter, but her sister was fast, lunging forward with her long, lanky, adolescent limbs and snatching the stationary before Buffy even got close. Flicking it open with a snap of her wrist, Dawn's eyes darted over it quickly and a grin began to spread over her face, calming only half of Buffy's nerves.

"No way!" she beamed, tossing the note back down and lurching around the island, dashing for the stove on the other side.

Confused but cautious, still frightened somewhere deep in her chest that she had messed up good this time, Buffy clenched her hands into fists to stop the minute trembling in her fingers before reaching out to take the paper hesitantly, smoothing it open to find a few lines of Spike's neat, curving handwriting inside.

Picked up your favorite Lil Bit - Has to be better than any nosh you got up at the Hospital. Get some sleep pet.

You too Slayer. I'll run patrol tonight.

Oh.

Well.

Short and to the point she supposed, brusque yet somehow tender, but… more for Dawn than for her.

And that made her feel… well, jealous if she was being honest, but more than that, was he…was Spike… taking care of them?

Sure enough, when she finally managed to take her eyes off the words, so many fewer than she had been hoping for, she found Dawn pulling plastic bags out of the cold oven, full of waxy white cartons all printed with a familiar green dragon and still warm.

Asian House - Dawn's all-time favorite and the Scoobie's go-to for egg rolls and lo-Mein.

It shouldn't have surprised her, not at all. Spike was incredibly attentive to Dawn, seemed to look on her much like a little sister, and maybe even more so than Buffy herself did. He had taken care of her, protected her - so why wouldn't he make sure that she had something hot and tasty after the last few days they'd had, why wouldn't he do something so simple that still felt like a declaration, sweet and thoughtful and more meaningful than perhaps it was meant to be?

Dawn was already digging in to boxes of dumplings and scooping up shrimp-fried rice with a fork she'd retrieved from a drawer, but when she saw Buffy staring with the paper still clutched in her hand, she offered up a smile that said she knew far more of what was going on in her sister's brain than she should and pushed a couple of open boxes towards her.

"He got your favorite too," she said, and sure enough when Buffy looked, she found Mongolian beef and broccoli as well as the stir-fried veggies with baby corns that she loved so much. There were even steamed custard buns in place of fortune cookies, which oddly enough made Buffy nervous.

"How did he…" she began, trailing off.

This part of it was strange without excuse. Spike didn't need to eat, even if he liked to, so paying this much attention to what her favorites were didn't make sense. It hadn't even been that long since he'd stopped hating her, had it? How many times could he have possibly listened to them order Chinese food to be delivered to Giles' little flat or the Magic Box in the last few years? Had he really been hanging around that often? What else had she missed, blinded herself to?

"He knows everybody's favorites," Dawn continued around a giant bite of eggroll, her cheeks bulging like a chipmunk. "Well, maybe not Xander's. But he knows his least favorites! That's why nobody lets him get pizza with us - he always gets mushrooms just to make Xander mad."

A shocked sort of giggle burst out of Buffy's mouth and she couldn't do anything but sit as the last of her energy left her. A small frown crept over Dawn's face and she set her fork down carefully even as Buffy pulled her #3 special closer, found the single pair of chopsticks in the bottom of the plastic bag.

Dawn always used a fork, but every one of the Scoobies still ordered her a pair.

"Buffy are you ok?"

Startled out of her reverie, Buffy jumped, snapping the slender pieces of wood apart a little harder than she'd meant to. Dawn cocked a knowing eyebrow at her, a sad sort of smile on one side of her mouth as she pushed her dinner back with a shallow sigh and came around the island, standing behind her sister and wrapping her in a long-armed hug, her chin resting on Buffy's shoulder.

"I'm ok," Buffy murmured, reaching up to squeeze Dawn's forearms where they crossed over her chest. "Dawn?"

"Hmm?"

"I…"

"You can say it Buffy," Dawn mumbled in her ear, tightening her hold on her sister. "The world won't end. I promise."

Buffy whimpered a giggle, her eyes suddenly hot and stinging before she dragged a massive breath into her lungs and let it go.

"I'm in love with Spike."

The hospital was quiet around eleven - Spike had skulked around the place enough to know the schedule. Eleven was the magic hour, late enough the things had begun to slow, patients drifting off to slumber and the night shift settling in, but early enough that the late-night Sunnydale terror crowd had yet to really begin their mischief and send their victims in through the revolving emergency doors in screaming dash of blood and frantic EMT's. It was calm, easy, the steady hush of sedated breathing soothing on his sensitive ears, and it was child's play to find the room that he was looking for.

The lights were off but for the small colors flashing around on the gently humming machines, but the blinds over the window had been left discourteously open, cold moonlight flooding in in a wash of silver, throwing the woman on the hospital bed into sickly paleness. The sight of her momentarily tightened Spike's chest, caught his breath in his throat, but then his eyes flared gold and he could see through the false veil of that harsh light, could hear her heart beating strongly and smoothly as she slowly opened her eyes.

He hadn't meant to wake her if she had been resting, but now that she was smiling softly in his direction and raising the back of her bed to bring her upright, he had the sudden, desperate need to know for himself that she truly was all right, that his senses didn't lie when they said that she was already well into the last leg of the race to full recovery.

"Hello Spike," she said softly, her bed stopping with a small, mechanical jolt.

"Didn't mean to wake you up luv," he murmured, moving carefully to the chair at the side of her bed, hooking his ankle round the leg and dragging it closer.

"I was just resting," she smiled, brushing his guilt away as only a mother could, even if it wasn't his own. "I feel as if I've been resting forever; I doubt I could sleep if I wanted to."

"You need your rest pet," Spike chided gently, though it felt strange scolding her. He might be a century older, but the woman had always had a way of making him feel like a lad again. "You've had a dodgy few days."

Leaning forward, he placed a small, Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate on the tray attached to the side of the bed, felt heat bloom in his chest when she smiled and took it with hands that looked thin and frail, but that were steady as they brought it to her lips.

"Mmm," she hummed, taking another sip before setting the cup back down. "I thought the cafeteria closed at ten."

"It's that British charm luv," Spike grinned, giving her a wink that made her chuckle lightly. "Didn't take but a mo' to pick it up. No marshmallows though - wasn't sure your doc would approve."

"That's sweet," Joyce said, just a little breathily as she leaned back against the pillows with a sigh.

"How you holdin' up?" he asked, intending the question to be smooth and tender, but the rough crack of his voice belied his true concern.

"Oh, just fine," she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed. "The doctors say I'll be just fine…"

A moment passed in silence and something in him couldn't leave the sentence hanging.

"But?"

A single tear trickled down Joyce's cheek then, and her lips trembled as she gasped.

"I'm afraid."

"Oh pet," he murmured. Leaning forward, he took her hand tightly in his and squeezed, bringing it up to press a kiss to the back of her knuckles. "It's gonna be all right. Got the worst of it out of the way now."

"But what if…" she sobbed quietly, bringing her free hand up to her mouth and this time it was trembling. "Buffy and Dawn. If I had…"

"None of that now," he said quietly, wishing he could hold her but squeezing her hand tighter instead. "Can't dwell on the what-ifs luv - know that better than most. And you know if… if anything…"

He swallowed, couldn't finish as he looked down at his boots.

"I'd take care of them," he said into the quiet. "Whether your eldest liked it or not. I'd take care of them."

A quiet sob choked out of her and then she was lurching forward, pulling him in tight as she could between all the tubes and wires tying her down, and he held her as carefully as glass and gold in the silent darkness until she'd fallen asleep again, watching over her until the light of dawn began to tickle at his boots.

Holy crap - it's been forever! I am so sorry you guys, grad school is kicking my butt. I can't express how amazing everyone is who sticks with me, reviews, and pm's checking in on me. You're fantastic! Hopefully with a break coming up I can do a little more for you.