-These Few Notes-
elmoruthpotterfan6
-one shot-

A/N: Ok so I wrote this before my other 'This Lullaby' one shot. This is also planned to be a one-shot. Uh, I'm not sure what kind of music Dexter sings besides old wedding songs…and the potato opus…so he's gonna sing (in my fanfic) punky-rock. And I do know that Remy doesn't cry for nothing, but she doesn't…just tears I swear! Mwahaha! And I will get this on FF and then I'm off to 'Just Listen' cause I think I'll write a fanfic on that as well. It might be a little while, with the other fanfic s as well. But I'm working as fast as my little fingers can type. He he! So…HERE IT IS!
(LAST MIN. DICLAIMER)
I, sadly, own nothing of the 'This Lullaby' related. But in my dreams I own them so that's all that matters! :)

I was sleeping when I first heard it. Well I don't think you could call it sleeping, just having my eyes closed and laying peacefully on my boyfriend's bed with drifting thoughts. I was once again at the Yellow House, as I was almost all the time since mom devoted herself on a new book and Chris moved out to Jennifer Anne's.

It was soft at first. He must have thought I was actually sleeping; maybe I was, but I am sure I'm not sleeping now. It was just a few notes over and over again on that old acoustic guitar Dexter had in his cluttered room. I heard him mumble-sing words soon after. I turned to face him, one arm stretched out above me touching the headboard and one under my cheek. I could barely see him with the limited light from the street lamp outside, but I could picture him. I could picture him sitting on a crappy folding chair in front of a pealing desk and looking at his battered guitar while plucking a nameless tune. Maybe a lock of his curly black hair will fall on his face and into his dark eyes and long eyelashes. Ugh, maybe the girls were right…maybe I am in too deep.

I wasn't for sure what attracted me to him in the first place. It surely wasn't his cleanliness or his constant clumsiness but he was so sweet and thoughtful…in his own type of way.

"Dexter," I sighed, stretching some after a few minutes, "can you go to sleep? You're going to get those notes in my head all day tomorrow if you keep it up."

He looked at me and, though I couldn't see it, I knew he was smiling. I sighed.

"What are you working on, an Opus about carrots?"

He laughed, "No, but that's a great idea, Remy, the Potato was a great hit. Actually… it's a real song."

"A real one? Not about food?!"

"Now don't sound so shocked like I can't make one!" he replied and I heard him set down his guitar on the floor.

"Ah, well, I guess I'm a little use to the idea of you and food Opuses are a package deal," he laughed again. "What's it about?"

"Oh, uh...it's nothing, really…piece of crap…uh, I'm going to stop working on it now and get to bed,"

Why is he avoiding the question? It was simple to answer. 'What's it about?' is not rocket science. Then something I remembered him saying long time ago close to the day I met him…'I could write you a song…' Oh God!

I groaned, "Ugh! You made me a song?!"

He stiffly sat on his bed next to me. He knew how I felt about songs about me! Ok there was only that one song…now two!

"It's nothing, really. It was just a few notes that's all. Nothing final, OK? Just forget about it, Rem…just…forget about it," he said which faltered down to a mumble. He stared out the window, glowing slightly from the street lamp.

There was a down to his voice. It was hurting him. He was doing something sweet that any other girl would be so happy to have. I was hurting him because of my weird obsession with no songs about me. I didn't like the unsettling feeling I had now. What was it? Guilt? Yeah, it was guilt. I felt guilty for making him feel bad because of his need to make me a song.

"Dex…Dex…Dexter. Look at me," I soothed, reaching up to touch his chin and force him to look at me. When he did, I sighed, "Look…let me hear it…all of it. Please? I swear I will like it because it came from you. OK?"

He sighed at looked me deeply in the eye. I still lay there on his bed, looking up at him, and feeling very, very childish.

"Alright," he replied sounding like he fixed a smile on his face. He was again on that crappy chair in front of the peeling desk with guitar in hand. He still wasn't the best guitar player but he was getting better. He strummed a few notes then sang, quietly to wake no one else up:

It was a few notes,
and then a song
to just to tell you,
that we belong.
You don't need to be told
that I love you
because I know,
that you know it too

You sworn off musicians
I walked a too many miles
You said I just wouldn't listen
I told you to stay a while.
So please, stay with me
I swear I won't gloat
Just stay with me
and listen to these few notes

It was just a few notes
and then a song
that I had beyond hope
that you won't stay mad long
'causes I know how you feel
I know how you think
It doesn't take long
to see how hard I fell

You sworn off musicians
I walked too many miles
You said I just wouldn't listen
I told you to stay a while.
So please, stay with me
I swear I won't gloat
Just stay with me
and listen to these few notes

It was just a few notes
and then a song
to just tell you
that we belong
'Cause you are my star
my moon, my sun
without you I can't go far
I can't go far without my heart

You sworn off musicians
I walked too many miles
you said I just wouldn't listen
I told you to stay a while.
So please, stay with me
I swear I won't gloat


Just stay with me
and listen to these few notes

He stopped playing and I was speechless. I didn't hate it. I couldn't believe he would think I hated it because I loved it.

"Oh my God," I croaked, the edges of my eyes tearing.

"I know, it's bad," he said after placing the guitar down and leaning on his elbows on his knees. He nervously ran his fingers through his hair.

"Oh, Dexter, no…it's just…you made me cry," I gave a half cry-laugh. You know the kind that when you're crying and you kind of give a cough that sounds like a laugh and you're smiling and all. Yeah, one of those weird moments of a cry and laugh.

"Remy, Remy, Remy. Shhh, it's all right," he said as he made his way over to hug me. I already bolted straight up. I knew it was alright, I just couldn't stop tearing up.

"Yeah, I know it is…it's just…I can't help it. Ugh…I hate to cry,"

"It's a girl thing. I thought girls cry,"

"Yeah, well, I don't cry a lot. I hate to cry.

"Only you would hate almost everything about being a girl,"

"No I don't! I am quite like having my boobs!"

"Ah, that makes the both of us," he said in the crook of my neck and shoulder. I laughed from the vibrations of his voice then sniffed once. At least no tears were actually falling; they were just stuck in my eyes, building up so I couldn't see.

Letting Dexter go, I lie back down and let the fixed tears slide down the sides of my face. With a sigh, Dexter kneeled over me (my heart jumped) and flopped onto the other side of me. He rested on his elbow facing me while I stared at the ceiling. I didn't know what was so fascinating about me.

I looked at him, "What?"

"What?" he looked taken back, like he was caught not listening to an important conversation.

"It's rude to stare," I informed him.

"Hmm, so it is. But one black mark on my record does no harm," I could see him wiggling his eyebrows

Silence.

"Dexter?"

"Hmm?"

"Were you actually planning to sing that at the wedding in two days?" I turned facing him.

"I wasn't if you don't want me to," he said touching my cheek.

"Well," God this was hard. I cleared my throat, "well…I bet…Jennifer Anne won't…mind….if you…play…that…at the…reception,"

"Are you asking me to play your song in front of your family and a bunch of people you won't know?"

"God, Dexter! You are making this unbelievably hard….Yes, I am."

He pressed his forehead against my temple, "My, my Remy. Aren't we brave? What if…" he lowered his voice, "I mess it up?"

I turned my head so we were face-to- face. I smiled.

"You won't."

"You don't know that."

"I know YOU, Dexter. But if you don't want to play, I understand."

He sighed, "Damn you, Remy Starr, I'll play."

I kissed his nose and he wrapped his arms around my stomach, pulling me closer.

"But if I mess up, it's your head."

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A/N- TADA! OK, now for you to do your part…you know the little grey button on the bottom left hand side. Please, please, please review! They make me smile )! And I do know I might have spelling errors…as much as I hope there isn't. R&R R&R R&R R&R !