A/N: This chapter has a spot of Rated R mushiness. And I concluded this chapter with a paraphrasing of an ASL poem called "Deaf World."

Spike could smell the sweat on her skin as she tossed and turned in her sleep, her brows drawn together in a pained frown. Gently, he placed an arm around her, gathering her to him and cradling her to his cool body. He saw her eyes flicker open, the whites of her eyes glistening under the soft light of the street lamp outside permeating through the blinds.

He waited until her eyes adjusted to the darkness before asking, 'Love, what's wrong?'

She shook her head. "It's nothing," she murmured. "Sorry for waking you."

His lips curved into a small smile. 'Nocturnal, remember? Don't really sleep at night.' He gently nudged her. 'What's bothering you?'

She burrowed her face into the crook of his neck. "My ears hurt," she murmured. "They got infected a few days after the fight."

Spike propped himself up on his elbow so that he could see her face. 'Taking anything for it?'

"Yeah, but I left them in my luggage. There's an antibiotic for the infection and a pain reliever."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then the spot behind her ear. 'Anything I can do?' he said, looking into her face.

She shook her head. "No," she murmured, her eyes sliding closed, her brows heavy. "I'll just tough it out until tomorrow."

Spike kissed her forehead again, his lips trailing over the side of her face and the slope of her neck. Buffy gasped and tilted her head. He smiled against her throat, nuzzling against her skin.

Spike pulled away to look into her face. 'Missed you,' he said when she opened her eyes.

"Missed you," she whispered, sliding her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

Spike slipped a hand beneath her shirt, his calloused fingertips tracing over the smooth skin of her stomach, tracing out random patterns as he bent his head down to kiss her. Buffy took his roaming hand in hers and laced her fingers with his, lifting her head off the pillow to return the kiss.

"Tickles," she giggled against his lips.

He pulled his face away to smile at her before pressing soft, quick kisses to her mouth. Buffy slid her hands down his back and threw a leg over his hip, flipping him onto his back as she half-straddled him, her lips still pressed to his. He moaned into her mouth as her warm weight settled onto him, his hands reaching everywhere he could touch her.

Buffy let out a breathy moan as she felt his erection nudge her thigh. She straddled him fully, her upper body flush against his, their denim-clad pelvises aligned and undulating. "Mmmnah," she whimpered against his mouth, rubbing her warm center against the bulge in his pants.

Spike's body vibrated beneath her as he chuckled, carding his fingers through her hair while the other hand traced over her spine and then down over the swell of her ass cheek. Buffy gasped as he lifted his hips to grind against hers, nuzzling her face into his neck.

He gently turned her over onto her back, getting comfortable between her legs. He smiled against her lips before pulling away to talk to her. 'Hope this is distracting you from your pain, pet,' he chuckled.

Buffy closed her eyes and nodded as he lowered his head and pressed his cheek to hers. She yawned, and gave Spike a sheepish look when he pulled away to smirk at her.

'Go to bed,' he said, kissing the top of her head.

She giggled, her eyes already falling closed. "I am in bed, silly vampire."

Spike chuckled as he settled in beside her, holding her close to him as her breaths evened out.

--

Buffy awoke alone, stretched out in the too-big bed with the covers hanging precariously off the edge. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, stretching her arms over her head. She rolled out of bed and toed her shoes on, surveying the room with bleary eyes.

She smiled as she found a sheet of paper taped to the door, and on it was sprawled in Spike's writing, Bathroom's to the right of this door. Brekky's in Wes' office.

She used the bathroom and freshened up, brushing her teeth with her finger and gargling with Spike's citrus flavored mouthwash. When she finished, she stared into her reflection and sighed, watching her mouth silently move as she did. "I hate this," she whispered, watching her own lips as they pulled back slightly around the word 'hate,' and her tongue catch between her teeth and slip back into her mouth as she pronounced 'this.'

She wondered if she could hear herself if she screamed loud enough.

Buffy felt her throat constrict as tears of frustration built from behind her eyes. She swallowed hard, tearing herself away from the mirror and swinging the door open, the breeze that blew gently through her as she opened the door drying what little tears had flooded over her waterline. She forced herself to think of other things, like the soft yield of the carpet beneath her sandaled feet, and the smooth lacquer of the staircase balustrade. She tried to imagine how it would sound like to have the carpet swallow the sound of her footfalls, and the squeak of her skin against the glossy railing.

Buffy stopped at the landing and closed her eyes.

She couldn't remember how those sounded like.

Maybe it was because silence was all that had encompassed her for the past two weeks, except for the sound of her thoughts bouncing around in her head. She recalled that the last time she'd had a cold, which had probably been months before her calling, she couldn't remember how it had felt like to be well. The only thing she'd known was that it had been so hard to breathe, and no matter how many times she'd blown her nose, it'd still be full of snot.

She opened her eyes when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Pale blue eyes shone at her, wide with concern. Angel, Wesley, and a bald black man stood behind him, nearer to the door of Wesley's office.

'Buffy?' he said.

She watched his mouth, riveted at the movement of his full lips.

"Hi," she said shakily, her hand clinging to the railing. She took his hand when he offered it to her, feeling grounded by the way he squeezed it gently.

Spike led her to Wesley's office, and the other occupants of the hotel parted hesitantly as they walked past. He let go of her hand and knelt in front of the mini fridge by the ex-Watcher's desk, taking out a square Styrofoam carton and a plastic fork from a side desk where a coffeemaker and a microwave sat perched.

'Got Charles to get you some breakfast,' Spike said, opening the carton and placing it in the microwave. 'Didn't know what you wanted so I told him to surprise you. Hope you like pancakes and blueberry currant.'

Buffy felt her stomach grumble. She smiled as Spike smirked at her. "Guess tummy approves."

The microwave pinged and Spike took the carton out, handing it to Buffy. She thanked him before digging in.

Buffy blinked when Spike stood in front of her. She glanced up at him. "Do you want some?" she asked, cutting a piece and shoveling it onto the plastic fork. She fed it to him, watching as his lips closed around the eating utensil. A smear of blueberry currant remained on his bottom lip, and she leaned forward to properly lick it off.

Spike smirked against her tongue and mouth before deepening the kiss, taking the carton and placing it on Wesley's desk before grabbing her forearms and pulling her closer. She slid her small, warm hands up his chest, and he hissed as she scratched at his nipple through the fabric of his tee. He pulled away from her mouth to press a heated kiss to her neck.

Buffy pulled away just slightly, her hands gripping his biceps and her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Say my name, Spike," she whispered, her voice trembling.

'Buffy,' he whispered back, and then his mouth was on hers, and he murmured again and again against her, 'Buffy, Buffy, Buffy…'

She withdrew and sniffled, her hand coming up to trace his soft lips as he continued to whisper her name. Spike cradled her face in his hands as her tears began to fall, his mouth covering hers in soft, lingering kisses. He pulled back and caressed her cheek with his thumb, staring into her glossy green eyes.

'You'll hear soon, love,' he said, kissing each eyelid. 'You'll hear soon.'

Buffy burst into tears and buried her head into his chest.

--

"Need to borrow your car, mate," Spike said to Angel, already palming the car keys.

Angel sighed at his back, watching Spike disappear through his office door. "Not like I can stop you," he grumped.

--

Spike closed his hand around Buffy's, sitting beside her on his bedspread.

She raised her eyes and looked at him. "I got my dad to text me directions."

He nodded. 'Good.' He pulled her closer, kissing her forehead. 'Got something to show you, love, before you go.'

"Yeah?" she asked softly, wrapping her arms around his waist.

'Yeah,' Spike said, tugging her off the bed. 'Sun's about down. C'mon, we'll go wait 'er out downstairs.'

Buffy nodded, following him out into the hall and down to the lobby.

When the sun set, Spike led her to Angel's Ford Mustang. They got in and Spike drove out of the city and onto the freeway. Buffy frowned when she noticed that they were moving away from Los Angeles instead of through it.

"Spike--"

He smiled at her. 'Trust me, love.'

She settled down in her seat, still frowning at him.

Spike was quiet, but their route did all the talking. Buffy watched as the urban setting of Los Angeles faded behind them on the freeway. The vampire took an exit and drove for several more miles, the neighborhood that they entered noticeably more suburban. The road ahead of them steepened considerably, so much so that Spike had to switch into second gear. The street was surrounded by trees and shrubs, and the night was cool and alive.

The vampire stopped on the crest of the highly elevated street, parking on the side of the road. He left the headlights on as he killed the engine, getting out of the car and nodding at Buffy to follow suit.

He took her hand and led her further up a grassy knoll. He held her to him as she shivered.

'Look out there, Buffy,' he said, his lips illuminated by the headlights behind them.

Buffy looked down and over the knoll, her breath catching in her throat. From this height, she could see the tops of suburban houses, their lights small and winking like faraway stars. Beyond that, she could see mountains in the distance, their caps being swallowed by the cloak of night. The moon was bright, and intermittently showered them with moonbeams when strips of cloud did not block it. The sky was a velvet blue, the stars glimmering like tiny pinpricks in the night.

"Spike…" she whispered, her voice catching with emotion. She turned to him, her brow furrowed.

He smiled at her broadly, cupping her face in his hands. 'Don't you see, Buffy?' His hands trailed down her arms until they were met with hers, and he squeezed them lightly before bringing one hand to his mouth, brushing a kiss to her knuckles.

Buffy's eyes followed his movements before she turned to look at the beautiful view again. She didn't know if it was the altitude, but she suddenly felt lighter than she had in days.

He placed a finger beneath her chin to redirect her gaze on him. 'You don't need your ears to appreciate this, Buffy,' he murmured. 'You're as close to nature as you will ever get. The trees and the mountains don't have ears, love. An' you don't need to hear them to see how beautiful they are.'

Tears slipped past Buffy's lower lashes as she stared out into the distance. She glanced at Spike when he touched her arm.

'Don't let this disable you, Buffy. Especially now that you know it's not permanent. Don't let it turn your world a pallid gray. You've got other senses, and they shouldn't be dulled just because one of them is.'

Buffy sniffled sharply, launching herself at the vampire and throwing her arms around him.

Spike held on tightly and closed his eyes, burying his nose into her hair.