She tiptoes into her room quietly, taking care not to walk over that creaky board in the floor. Since he returned from the hospital, he's been here in her room. She knows that she shouldn't be lying awake thinking of him in her bed, on her sheets but she has.
It seems like he is physically fine at this point. Well, except for the eye thing. Eventually the doctors will give him a glass eye but for now, he is wearing a patch. Maybe he can get a bionic eye like on the Six Million Dollar Man? Man, she's been watching way too much television since this whole thing started. She shakes her head to clear all the tangents racing around her brain. Her journey wasn't a long one and she is there now at her bed.
He used to seem so big to her. Invincible in a different way than Buffy. More dependable too. There was a time not too long ago where she would have said Spike. That Spike was her Champion. The flashy, romantic hero but lately flash was just that - flash. The stability that this man offers guides her like a beacon.
The past few months have aged her beyond her years. She has faced so much loss and disappointment. Send out the invitations to the pity party for ol' Dawnie for sure. She feels past that now - stronger, more resolved - sure of herself in a new way.
With this new confidence, she drives forward to perch lightly on the side of the bed and reaches out gingerly to take his hand.
"Xander, wake him. It's me."
Xander fights his way up through layers of drug-induced sleep to reply. "Dawnie, what's up?" He starts to rise sleepily.
She places a hand on his chest to keep him in place. "No, no. It's nothing like that. Stay. It's just me, I'll go." She says as she prepares to get up as she loses her confidence.
He catches her hand in his. "No stay. Do you want to talk?"
She shakes her head. "I just --- I just felt- like I wanted to be here with you. Do you mind?"
Something passes between them as they look into each other's eyes. No running down the beach romantic-music type thing, no melodramatic confessional, no teenage crush - this is infinitely more real. There is no need for words. It is understood that by this one act of comfort something will shift into a new place. This change has been coming, the latest set of events have only hastened this conclusion.
He utters only one word, "Stay" and slides over pulling back the covers to make room for her.
He utters only one word, "Stay" and slides over, pulling back the covers to make room for her.
She complies and lies down beside of him. There is enough light from the streetlights for her to clearly see his face. All signs of youth have fled. Even with the patch, he has never seemed more handsome to her. It's like she's looking at him for the first time. The crinkles around his one good eye have been well earned. Just like the laugh lines around his mouth. He looks far older than his twenty-three years. But he also has the look of a warrior. One who has fought in many battles and has survived by his wits. She finds comfort in the thought.
Xander shifts to his side, lying so that he is now facing her. He looks at her and waits for her to speak.
Moments pass and emotions play across her face but she still hasn't said a word. The silence between them is comfortable and he waits patiently for her to speak. He is content to look at her beloved face and be thankful that he can still see it. He wonders at when exactly her face began to hold so much sentiment for him. She was come to embody home to him. He reaches out and pushes a strand of chestnut hair back behind her ear.
His touch rouses her from her thoughts and she smiles. The light of this smile in the face of so much sadness touches him like nothing else. For the first time since that awful night, he feels some sense of hope, some sense of normalcy.
"Thanks for coming", he says without thinking.
She smiles again. It sounds like he is greeting her at the door to a birthday party and not into his bed. At that thought she realizes that he - in all likelihood - is not seeing her arrival as anything more than a little girl crawling into a parent's bed after a nightmare.
She knows different. There is no nightmare. There is no waking up from what is happening all around them. And she doesn't feel like a little girl anymore. She has seen too much, grieved too much. This last injury to Xander just finished the process. There will be no first dates with young boys and worrying about what shoes to wear. She will never look into the face of a stranger without a doubt as to her own safety.
She has not come seeking anything from him; rather, she has come with the immediate intention of giving comfort and reassurance. "Don't thank me, I think this is where I belong."
"Well, this is your bed after all", he quips.
Hearing him make a quick come back warms her heart and she rejoices at his resiliency. She is now more certain that he is - or will be - OK.
He makes a move to rise, "You probably want me to move."
She stops his effort with her body. He is suddenly on his back with the top half of her body on his own. "No, that's the last thing.I want." She says to last two words shyly and suddenly he is clear on her meaning. His hands come up bracing each of her shoulders with the intention of moving her away but he finds himself drawing her closer instead. He pulls her into a hug. Her head moving to his shoulder.
She responds to this moment by curling her body into his even more. If he had any doubt before, it has fled. She doesn't feel like a little girl in his arms. She feels like a willowy young woman. Her breasts are surprisingly full and they feel wonderful against his chest. One of his hands begins to stroke her back and she nuzzles into him like a cat.
He is still seeking to comfort her more than anything else but he can't ignore his growing arousal. Honestly, there had been times during this year when he had "noticed" her but he would always put himself firmly back into the big brother category. He isn't feeling that way now.
He pulls back to look at her. "Dawn, what are we doing?"
"What does it look like?"
"Actually, I'm not sure. I mean this probably isn't a good idea" he states as his hand, oblivious to his words, continues to caress her back.
"Xander, it's a great idea. I love you, Xander. And I mean really love you. You are the best and most normal thing in my life. I was just so scared when." tears begin to well up in her eyes.
He feels oddly content at the girl's admission. He acknowledges that he has feelings for her too. That out of all of his odd put-together family, she is the most dear, the most vulnerable. The one closest to his heart. He would sooner lose his other eye before hurting her.
Drawing a deep breath, his hands slide back to grasp her arms, ready to follow through on his original intent to move her away.
She senses his retreat and curls more ardently into him, sliding the lower half of her body over him as well. She feels his erection. This contact stuns them both.
She seizes the opportunity to make another appeal. "Xander, please. I need this and I need it from you. I have to feel you with me, in me. God knows what is going to happen next. You CAN NOT TURN ME AWAY."
Tears flow at an increased rate down her face, landing on his own. He can't stand her tears. They are breaking his heart. He knows that she has already lost her childhood and now, he is poised to take any piece of it that's left but looking at her face he knows that he can't deny either of them at this moment.
He knows that this will change everything just as certainly as the loss of his eye but there is no turning back. He will not leave her. Only death can separate them. This lack of doubt shakes him for a brief moment. He has so struggled over this is the past but now his heart is singing and he knows that this is right and this is good.
Dawn feels the tension flow out of his body and he finally relaxes. He answers her smile with one of his own and kisses her softly.
He kisses her softly. Her lips are like velvet. The sheer beauty of the moment draws him back to reality. She is too precious; too young not to be treated with the care and respect that she so deserves. God, how many times has she been left to doubt herself? Her own worth? He draws back slowly. She looks at him expectantly like she expects the world from him. He knows that what she thinks she wants right now and what she truly deserves are two very different things.
He thanks the powers that be that he is not a seventeen year old boy. Although that might solve one problem, it would create more. He is far from the boy he was at seventeen. If he were that boy, he wouldn't know that first thing about - well - anything. In his opinion, Dawn is way too precious for any sort of precarious grope in the backseat of some car. He is going to make damned sure that she is going to have the benefit of his experience, his maturity, and his love.
As he kisses her again, he tries to sort out how to let her down gently. She seems so earnest in her desire. He bids his time, as she seems content to lie in his arms trading gentle kisses. Xander realizes his time is at an end when her tongue shyly trances his bottom lip. It takes a significant amount of effort to pull back.
Her face takes his breath away. Her eyes wide, her cheeks gently flushed. For the first time in a long while he is not thinking of things he can't control or of when he might die. He is thinking of his future. Here is his future. In this moment, he realizes that she has saved him.
"You've saved me' he whispers.
Her face assumes that familiar, incredulous look that she does so well. She smiles, "That medicine has done a number on you."
"No, I mean, honestly, this whole year things have been so crazy. And there you are trying so hard to keep going even when everything around you is falling apart. Look at those girls downstairs, they're your age. They are scared to death and they are potential slayers. Most girls - most people.Dawn, they couldn't hold up half as well as you have. Seeing you, it's helped me."
This talk with him, it's so like the others they have shared but it's not. They are in her bed wrapped in her sheets lying inches from each other. He has kissed her! She is having trouble assimilating it all.
Her hair has fallen in her face and he moves to push it back behind her ear. The eye thing has affected his distance perception and he manages to poke her in the eye instead.
"Ow!"
"Oh God, Dawn! I'm sorry"
Both realize the irony of the situation and begin to laugh and laugh some more. Xander pulls the covers over their heads in a feeble attempt to muffle their laughter. It strikes him that they are like two children taking shelter and comfort from each other in the midst of a storm. He hasn't felt this safe or this happy in a long time - maybe ever.
Finally, their laughter calms and leaves them staring at one another. It seems they are poised on the edge of a new place. He should be afraid but he's not and in the end, he doesn't have any trouble finding the words, they've been there all along.
He pulls the covers down and reaches for her again. "Dawn, I love you."
If possible, her eyes grow even wider. It is one of the few times he has seen her speechless. Believe it or not, he has words, more of them to fill the space.
"Dawn, I mean it, I love you. Maybe, I haven't loved anybody before. Before, I was so worried. Worried that I wasn't good enough or that we were just play-acting or I don't know. It was always like I was treading water and if I let up for one minute, I'd drown or someone would realize that I was a fake or something. But with you, here, even though I am less of a man than I ever have been before, I feel, I feel like I'm floating.like loving you is like breathing. I don't have to think, I can just feel. Dawn, it's going to be OK. All of it."
She has heard everything he has said. She has felt everything he has said. She plays it over and over again in her head. Just when her solemn expression begins to worry him, she smiles the brightest smile and launches herself at him once again. She has the exuberance of a puppy.
He holds her and rocks her until he feels tears wetting his shoulder. Pulling her face back from his shoulder, he asks, "What's this."
"It's just.oh Xander, it's just.I love you so much. I was so scared when you were hurt and then when you came home.I just was so worried, I felt like I would have traded places with you if I could have. But, here we are, I can't believe it. It's just too much". With that declaration, she falls back into his shoulder. It seems its now his turn to cry too.
And so the night wears on at the Summer's house until Dawn and Xander fall asleep tired from their worries, their admissions and their tears.
It's 9:30 and Xander has yet to come downstairs. Even on his first day back, he'd been up and about early. Buffy hoped that this meant that he had actually taken his pain medication for once. Still, it worrys her so she climbs over three potentials lying on the floor watching the Today show, two more braiding hair on the steps and finally one coming out of the bathroom before reaching Dawn's - now Xander's - room.
She turns to knob as quietly as possible before easing the door open. It takes her a moment to sort out the sight in front of her. Xander is lying on his back, one wrapped around a body lying half over him. The body in question is wearing her Yummy Sushi pajamas - Dawn! Both are sound asleep.
Buffy smiles, Xander looks more at peace than he has since he came home from the hospital - God, knows he needs to rest. And Dawn, well, poor Dawn. It is good to see that she is somewhat safe for the moment. Seeing the two together, she realizes that she can count on Xander to take care of Dawn, to see that she's OK once this mess is over. She wonders if there is some sort of legal thingie that she needs to fill out giving Xander custody of Dawn? She stops in her steps as she realizes that what she is thinking about is a will. She shakes her head as if to clear it and goes back down the steps to look for Spike and Faith; it's time to regroup.
Xander comes awake slowly. There is that moment every morning when he realizes what has happened, what he's lost and then it takes a monumental effort to even move. Today is different, he is thinking of what he's gained.
Holding her sleeping form in his arms, his practical side wins out. When he looks at the clock and realizes that it's almost noon, he knows that he is going to have to come up with a good cover for both of them. There will be no waltzing down the steps together, announcing the revelations of the night before to the masses. He can imagine the reactions - God, he won't even go there.
He shakes he gently, "Dawn? Dawn, honey, wake up. We need to talk."
She raises her head sleepily but quickly, making he wonder if she has been awake for awhile.
"Umm?"
"Dawn, honey, it's almost lunch, we need to figure out a way to explain what we have been doing sleeping together." Oh no, just the sound of it out of his mouth "sleeping together" in the same sentence as her name, Man, welcome to serious dirty-old-man status.
"You know they all probably know by now. I'm surprised Buffy or Willow hasn't poured a gallon of water over both of us. I guess being the resident invalid does have its perks."
Dawn is quickly coming fully awake. She is delighted by her circumstances. She is still a young girl in many respects and part of her wishes to share her news with everyone she sees. However, as a resident of the loony- house, she understands why this is not the time nor the place.
Seeing Xander's worry, she recovers quickly, "It's OK, I've already thought about it. If anyone asks, I had a nightmare and you were comforting me. End of story." Looking a bit more confident, she adds "For now" with a laugh and jumps out of bed, in a run for the bathroom.
It is late afternoon at the Summers' house. Xander sits propped up in his best invalid position nestled in the corner of the couch, his feet on the coffee table that he himself has repaired more times that he can count. He has spent the afternoon on the telephone catching up on his own real-life things. In the past months, even before losing his eye, he has let his own life slide. Somewhere along the line, he became convinced that there was no need to worry too much about the non-existent future.
This morning changed all that. He had showered, dressed, come downstairs, taken his meds and patiently allowed Willow to dress his wound. After all this, he fished out a pad of paper from the kitchen drawer with "Joyce" scrawled in pink cursive at the top of every sheet.
He wrote a two-page to-do list and then started on the list. He called the insurance company - "yes, the car accident was horrible. Thank you for all your help, yes, the deductible has been met."
He called the personnel dept. at the Sunnydale Construction Company - "yes, it was a good thing that he choose to carry that extra personal disability policy. You just never know what could happen.yes, he was covered at 75% of his salary for the next twelve months."
He called his boss - "Yes, I'm still alive, thanks for the flowers. Yes, I'm staying with some friends while I recover. Great, a job waiting for me when I return. Thanks, Bill."
He called the bank and his apartment complex. He wrote checks. He caught up on everything. He made a call to the doctor that he had been referred to for getting a glass eye fitted. "Yes, I understand that it will be about twelve weeks. We have to wait until everything is healed and there is no sign of infection, great, thank you."
He even called his Mom and Dad. Though he wasn't sure why. "Just checking in, by the way, I was in an accident. Actually, a pretty bad one.no I'm not suing anyone."
He is checking off number 12 on his list of 14 things, when he is roused from his work by Buffy. She is standing in front of him looking slightly drawn, as usual, and guilty too which is also usual these days since night this latest idiot took his eye. He braces himself for another heart-felt apology and then suddenly wonders if she has come about Dawn. Maybe, she knows where Dawn spent the night? Oh well, it's not the end of the world if she does know - ah, the end of the world is already here.
He looks up and smiles to reassure her, prompting her to get on with it. Lately, Buffy's communication style has left a lot to be desired.
"Um, Xander, can we talk for a minute? I have something to ask you." She speaks softly as she sits down beside of him. She grasps his hand as she sits so he figures that it's another guilt speech and not a "How dare you touch my little sister" speech.
He is surprised when she looks at him and says, "It's Dawn."
He jumps in, "Now, Buffy, it's not what you think."
She interrupts his interruption - "What? I'm just worried about her. I mean, if something happens to me. Who will take care of her? I guess, what I'm saying is, can you, will you - I know it's a huge imposition - but this morning, when I went in to check on you and there she was - with you. It all seemed to make sense. I mean, will you, will you take care of Dawn? Will you promise to take care of her? I want her out of here when this whole thing goes down. I want to know that she's somewhere safe. Even if we manage to stop this, I don't think."
She coughs and looks down. She goes on more softly now, "I don't think I will be here, here to take care of her. You know?"
About one hundred things hit him at once - she saw them this morning? She wants to get he and Dawn out of the way, great, the child and the invalid - what a pair! She wants him to take care of Dawn, to be her guardian, her surrogate father if he understands her correctly. She - Buffy - doesn't expect to make it through this period.
He tries to process through all of this information as fast as he can. She is looking expectantly at him. He is going to have to answer her before he's ready. "You want me to take care of Dawn?"
"Yes. You love you. You love her like I love her. You would never let anything happen to her if you could help it."
Again, Buffy's words trigger a cascade of individual tangents - she knows he loves her sister. Only how and to what degree is the question. Buffy is looking for a parent for Dawn. Yesterday, he would have agreed that his feelings toward her were 100% parental but today. Well, today is a different story all together. Now it's the Xan-man's turn to feel guilty.
Somewhere along the line, he has learned to stick as close to the truth as you can at all times. It heads off problems down the line. He turns to face Buffy directly, taking both of her hands in his own. "You are right, Buffy. I do love Dawn. I would take care of her whether you asked or not, you know that."
This is all the declaration she needs, Buffy hugs him tightly and kisses his cheek. She is crying down. She pulls back and exclaims, "Oh Xander, this is more than I should expect from you."
He sets her further away from him. Her tears are unnecessary and cause him discomfort. "It's OK, Buffy. Don't think another thing about it."
With this promise made, Buffy wearily gets up and heads out to the backyard to check on training before heading back to the hospital to check on the injured.
Xander feels like he can finally breathe. That's the last thing he expected. Still a little voice inside his head is happy that at least on some level he has Buffy's blessing. Given the chaos, he rationalizes that now is not the time to confess his less than honorable intentions towards her little sister.
Around 5:30, Dawn comes home from studying at the library. When she had gotten up so late, Buffy had sent her to study in the school library verses cutting school the whole day. Leave it to Buffy to send you directly to the Hellmouth to keep you out of trouble!
It has been a good day. She had ample time to goof off - doodling Mrs. Alexander Harris over and over again. After she had done this about a thousand times, she went on to name their three children - Angela Joyce, Summer Elizabeth and John Alexander. At lunch she had eaten the corners of her sandwich until she had made a heart. And finally she calculated the difference in their ages - 5 years, 2 months and 3 days - figuring in for leap year. Basically, she had indulged in all the prescribed activities for a love struck teenage girl.
For the first time in forever, she is looking forward to coming home. She realizes this is the Xander-effect and not some newfound sentimentality about home sweet home.
Xander has been trying to play it cool. For the last twenty minutes, he has been watching the clock waiting for her to walk in. He has been playing Scramble with a couple of potentials for the past hour. They must be the designated invalid-watchers for the afternoon. When Dawn walks through the door and heads directly towards the sofa both girls make a hasty retreat with mumbled excuses now that their relief has arrived. Dawn and Xander exchange a look; both know what all that was about. No doubt the girls are feeling sorry for Dawn getting stuck with him for the rest of the day. Oh well, shows you how much they know about anything!
This is the first time that they've been together since their hasty confessions of last night and this morning. Both are shy and hesitant. With Dawn, her own exuberance and energy cannot be dampened for long and she breaks the ice for both of them. Rising to her knees right beside of him and she smiles widely as she says "Hi, Pirate Bob!" He smiles back just as widely, looking intently into those sparkling hazel eyes, "Hi, yourself. You ready for Invalid Watch 2003? It's the only show in town." He quips sarcastically. "I think everybody else is poised to go out on reconnaissance tonight," he adds seriously.
She winks at him and grins some more, "Hey, I don't think you're much of an invalid. Some of our guests are more disabled by their lack of IQ points" she teases.
Kidding aside, they fall into more serious communication. "Are you? Do you really feel like such an invalid, I know we've been joking around it a lot " she asks carefully.
He loves that she is brave enough to ask. He used to admire the way Anya would say whatever came into her head but with Dawn it is so much more than that. She seems to have a true sensitivity about her. He has to think a minute before he answers her. She is right; they have been joking about the issue a lot. So much so, he hasn't really thought about it too hard himself.
After thinking about it, cataloging it along with all of the other weird and possibly tragic occurrences in his life, he decides that it isn't as bad as he had initially thought. There were several invisible wounds that were healing more slowly. Considering all this, he smiles at her and shakes his head. "No, really I'm OK. REALLY OK not just saying OK to be brave or to get you to change the subject. If this is all that I lose coming out of this, I'll feel pretty good. I 'm scared, I'm - we're - going to lose more." His voice fades with the last phrase. There isn't a need to talk things to death with Dawn. She knows, she truly knows.
The seriousness of the moment is tinged with anticipation for them both but before either of them can speak again, Spike and Buffy come into the room in their usual fashion - loud. They are discussing the preferred method by which to kill an UberVamp. Dawn rolls her eyes as she wonders when the two people she had considered to be the absolute coolest in the world had become so monotonous. Neither can see past their own baggage to see that each is crazy in love with the other. At some point it stops being romantic becomes just plain stupid.
To add insult to injury, Anya bursts in the front door not a minute later. Totally ignoring Buffy and Spike's conversation, she begins to complain about how the impending apocalypse is hurting business down at the Magic Shop. She goes on until she finally catches on that no one is listening. Seeing Xander's stricken expression upon viewing the circus unfolding in front of him, Anya directs her attention to him.
"Xander, don't look so sad, there are many women who will not care about your injury as long as your other 'parts' are still functioning properly."
He continues to be in awe of how she manages to say the things she says. Maybe the whole break-up was a good idea after all.He looks at Dawn out of the corner of his good eye and see that she is blushing. His heart melts a little at the thought the she can still be embarrassed. He finds it not only endearing but somehow promising.
Somehow both he and Dawn manage to weather the endless comings and goings until it grows dark and they are again alone. They are both painfully aware that they only have a little quiet time. At some point, something bad will happen again and they will be sucked back under with it.
She gets up announcing that she is going to go get his medication and the dressings for his eye. Normally, he would have bristled at her helping him and covered it with a healthy dose of sarcasm but he finds himself clean out at the moment. By the time he recovers from his loss, she is up and on her way to the kitchen.
He hops up to follow her, "Hey Dawnie, I'm half blind not crippled" he shouts. She is just reaching into the cabinet to get his pain medication and the high powered antibiotic he is taking to cut down on the risk of a secondary infection.
It's as if a switch in his brain is popped on and he continues on until he is directly behind her. His hands easily span her tiny waist and he nuzzles her neck with his mouth. He comes to, in this position, in awe that his hormones took the driver's seat for a minute. He opens his mouth to apologize to her but before he can do so she turns in his arms. Her arms go eagerly around his neck and she presses her lips to his.
For the first bit, he stands there frozen in place like a big piece of wood. She doesn't seem to notice and continues to press firm kisses against his lips. She is the only active party in this display of affection that his bad judgement has sparked. That she doesn't even notice seems to point to her own youth and naivete.
He slides his own hands up to her face, framing the lovely oval shape as her kisses continue unabated. His intent is to pull back from her easily. He would like nothing better than to participate in her activity of choice but intellectually, he reasons that it isn't the time or the place.
He reminds himself of all of the things he thought of this afternoon - that she is young, that she must be protected first and foremost - even from their own desires, that they have all the time in the world. At that one, his heart stops a beat - he hopes that they have all of the time in the world.
With her face in his hands, he takes control of the situation for the first time. All of his misgivings flee as he tilts her head and spears one hand through her long hair. He takes turns playing with one then the other of her lips, gently memorizing their shape, their texture. This simple act is somehow summarily more than he has ever experienced with any other woman. However, his reverence for her is coupled with an intensely carnal form of worship. A primal, masculine part of him relishes the fact that he will be first. That he will take from her her most precious and sacred gift.
This thought arouses him further and he begins to trace the outline of her lips. As he does this her heart beats louder and louder, her breath is coming faster and she must part her lips in order to draw in a breath.
CRASH. BANG. SCREAMS. GLASS BREAKING. IS THAT THE COFFEE TABLE?
With the party returning home early from its appointed rounds and seemingly bringing with them some fairly unruly guests, Xander pulls back. He grabs the nearest kitchen chair and throws it on the floor, breaking it in the process. He takes one sharp, broken leg for himself and hands one to Dawn, announcing "I guess the convalescence is over, huh?"
The digital clock on top of Dawn's Barbie Jewelry Box glows with the numbers 4:15 am when Xander walks into her room to get to bed. After the fight, there was a good bit of repair work that needed to be done. And while he is tired, it is nice to be up and around. The combined adrenaline rush and its aftermath seemed to have cured everyone of the thought that he was no longer a functioning member of the army. Well, he says, it's about time. If he is going down, he is going down swinging.
He has just pulled off his shirt and is unbuttoning his jeans when the door opens. From the way he is turned, he has to turn around all the way to see who it is. Expecting Willow, he is surprised to see Dawn. The last he had seen of Dawn was in the basement sharing tips with Spike and two potentials for getting blood stains out of 100% cotton clothes.
She catches the look of warning on his face but holds up the first aid kit out of defense. So, she is now bearing gifts it would seem.
"Ah, I told Willow that I could cover this. I said I wanted to be a nurse when I grow up." She announces the last part with a sly look on her face, proud of her cover.
Xander shakes his head and laughs. It is way to late to argue and God knows, between Buffy practically signing Dawn over to him and Willow, now sending her to his bed at Four AM - well, he just gives up. The next thing you know Spike is going to show up to talk with him about dating much younger women.
She promptly arranges several pillows on the side of the bed nearest the brightest light in the room and gestures for him to lie down. He complies, lies down and closes his good eye. He knows that she is taking a risk here, she is facing his injury. He knows how she feels, he been facing it everyday - he's already run the whole psycho-babble gambit of emotions and back several times over. He hears her take in a breath and feels for cool fingers slide the outside patch away. She then takes off the gauze and other dressings. He waits for a sound. He feels her reach over and she gets a hot compress that she must have brought with her. She washes his closed eyelid and then presses the compress to his eye.
"Is this OK? Isn't not too hot?"
He feels her tensing to move backward, he reaches out and holds her wrist making her hold her hand in place. "No, it feels good. Maybe you would make a good nurse?"
She laughs softly, he can tell this is hard for her but if they are going to have a chance then she may as well face the ugly truth now. After a few minutes, she takes the compress off and dries his eye off with a soft, dry towel.
"Um, I think this is when Willow said to put the saline drops in your eye. Can you open your eye? I mean . ?" her voice stops as he answers her by opening his eyelids - both of them.
She can't look away, she is frozen in place. The injury is obscene - not in it's scope but in its success. She smiles the "Brave Dawn Smile" as in the "My Mom Just Died Smile", the "My Sister Just Died Smile" and his personal favorite, the "I Just Found Out That Some Monks Made Me Out of Thin Air Smile". He can't help but think that those were just warm ups for the "My Cradle-Robbing Boyfriend Has One Eye Smile".
She takes the drops and applies the solution without so much as a blink. She is tough, he's got to hand her that. She finishes up quickly and efficiently. Maybe she should really think about the nurse thing?
He keeps his eyes closed as she gets up and moves things around. He is lost in his thoughts, she in hers. This time he feels her weight settle on the far side of the bed. She lends over and turns off the light. The clock now says 5:00 AM , she takes the clock and pulls it so that it comes out of the wall and the offending light goes off. She mutters, "'Screw School" and settles next to him before he can come up with a suitable comment. He turns to his side and spoons her close to him. At least he still has his jeans on, if someone thinks to check up on them, he thinks. She shivers a bit and he reaches down and pulls a quilt over both of them.
For the first time in her life, Dawn wakes up to the feel of one hundred and eighty pounds of aroused male pressed intimately behind her. She is - in turns shocked and amazed and more than a little panicked. The other night she had worked up her nerve and in the heat of the moment had been ready to plunge forward like the proverbial sacrificial virgin jumping into the proverbial volcano. Now, she was awake. She has to pee. She has yuck mouth and really needs to brush her teeth. These are not factors that she had accounted for when she made her grand entrance the other night.
He is lying on his side and his arm is draped loosely over her waist. Saying a silent prayer, she slides out from under the quilt that they are sharing and gently gets out of bed. Thankfully, Xander's only response is to turn over. She is thanking her lucky stars that she has managed to make a fairly graceful exit as she softly closes the door.
"Mornin' Nibblet."
Still facing the door she has just closed, she jumps at the greeting. Oh God, what if Spike can tell? She turns and says good morning a little more brightly that she should have under the circumstances.
"So, they've got you checking up on the walking wounded, uh?" he asks as he gestures towards the door. With his soul, he is less likely to ask anything intrusive. Thankfully, his assumption has given her an out.
"Yeah, that's me – 'Nurse Dawnie', work – work –work" she says as she quickly gets to the bathroom door and practically shuts in his face it.
Soul or not, he still knows when his Nibblet is up to something. Thinking for a minute, Spike reasons that she was most likely spooked by Xander's injury if she were playing nursemaid. He had taken a gander at the thing himself once or twice and no one deserves that – no one. William's compassion rises up and he decides to double check on the boy and make sure he isn't too upset by Dawn's hasty retreat.
Going to the door so recently closed by Dawn, Spike opens it gently and peeks inside. The boy isn't doubled-over with sorrow or isn't even looking mildly upset. In fact, the whelp is asleep, lying in the middle of Dawn's bed with no shirt on and his jeans halfway undone. Hell, there's even a smile on his face. Between the construction work, the demon fighting and the recent weight loss due to the hospital food, he doesn't look half-bad. And with the pirate patch and the dark hair, he even has a bit of an edge to him.
This wouldn't do at all. Spike, after all, wasn't born yesterday, he sees the writing on the wall. Before Spike can manage to subdue both his demon and his parental feelings towards Dawn, Xander is up against the wall.
Being awakened from a deep sleep by a snarling vampire would not have been Xander's first and fifty-first choice but here is Spike demanding to know what the hell he was doing with the "Bit". For a second or two, Xander thinks this is probably just what he deserves.
The sounds of threats and impending mayhem are just enough to peak the interest of many of the inhabitants of Chez Buffy including the hostess herself.
"Spike, put Xander down, NOW!" Buffy sounds like a mother demanding that her two children "play nice."
This latest act is just enough to urge Buffy towards her latest speech to the troops. "We have to stick together…yada, yada, yada…. impending doom…yada, yada, yada..." By this time, Spike has put Xander down and Buffy's ramblings have lulled everyone present into a state of melancholy.
Dawn has sneaked back into the room directly behind Buffy. While she missed the beginning of the show, she heard it. Not wanting to face the mayhem with yuck mouth, she went on, peed, and brushed her teeth before coming out to face the music.
Spike is about the only one in the room who is giving Buffy his full attention, so it is easy to catch Xander's attention over Buffy's shoulder. (One of the benefits of topping your older sister by a good four inches.)
Xander has managed to reach over and grab a shirt off of the chair beside of him. As he slides it on, he sees Dawn come back into the room. She is rolling her eyes at Buffy. Even now, she makes him want to smile, to hug her.
Given that there is only one exit out of the room and Buffy is blocking it, she is taking advantage of the captive audience. There is no escape for anyone. After the first twenty minutes or so, Xander and his attacker have both managed to slide down to sit against the wall, the multitude of potentials sitting on the bed shielding them from Buffy's view.
Buffy's talk has given Spike time to calm down by now, so he leans over to Xander in a fairly companionable way and asks, "So, am I going to have to kill you for touching the Bit or am I wrong?"
There was a time when such a question would have unnerved him to no end but that time is long gone, "Well, William, it's a little more complicated than that", he answers in an equally companionable whisper.
At that remark, Spike laughs and shakes his head; "Always is, especially if Dawn or Buffy's involved."
Recognizing, the commonality, Xander figures that he might as well forge ahead while he has the courage verses risk getting thrown against the wall again. "I love her, OK? And not in a big brother, Xander-will-fix-it-kind-of-love. The I-love-you-til-the-end-of-time- or-at-least-until-the-hellmouth-swallows-us-kind-love".
Spike laughs again to Xander's relief as Spike's romantic side wins out. "I know the kind myself, boy. Know it well in fact. Went out and damned near killed myself for it."
Tempting fate a little more, since there was no where to go, Xander decides to go ahead and get his blessing. "So, are you OK with it, I mean, me and Dawn? Just want to know where you stand, not that it matters. Oh, whom am I kidding? It does matter. It will matter to her what you think, whether she admits it or not."
Spike responds by smiling a smile that Xander has never seen before. He thinks that he has just met William – as much as Spike's going to let anyone meet William. "You must love her if you're willing to admit that if I don't say so myself." Leaning a bit closer still, Spike holds out his hand. For a second, he doesn't realize his intent but then it comes to him. The Victorian Gentleman who is William wants to shake his hand. He muses that the world must be coming to an end as he shakes Spike's hand.
At that, both men are jarred to attention. Buffy has made it through the masses and now stands, hands on hips looking down at both of them. She looks as if she is a third grade teacher and they have just gotten called down for talking. The image becomes even clearer when she speaks. "And exactly what do you two gentleman think you are doing?"
At this question, the only appropriate response seems to be to laugh and both do just that as they stand to face their punishment. As she looks at them – these two men who have taken so much abuse in her name only to come back for more – she isn't able to maintain her anger. Before she knows it she is smiling too, it isn't often that these two are conspiring together much less laughing. It can't be a bad thing she thinks as she begins to laugh too. 'That bad, uh?" she asks.
Spike responds by reaching out to her and pulling her to his side, "You just don't know love, you just don't know."
By later in the day, Xander is feeling better both mentally and physically. He has gone without his pain medication so it feels like the cotton surrounding his brain has finally been removed. Moreover, the conversation with Spike has eased his mind. Spike seems OK with whatever is going on with he and Dawn and seemed satisfied with what Xander had said. He didn't hold out any reservations that Spike wouldn't still kill him if he thought he had ever hurt Dawn. But that was cool because he wasn't planning to.
While he wanted to spend some time alone with Dawn, it seemed like every time it looked like they could manage it, something or someone came up. Willow and Kennedy wanting to do a good deed and talk to him; a potential with a broken hairdryer; dry wall that needed repairing; the list was getting long. Every once in awhile he would catch Dawn out of the corner of his vision and then she would be off again to parts unknown.
Dawn is in the kitchen. If those girls that have invaded her house, and her life don't leave Xander alone, she is going to scream. Potential or no potential, she is going to kick some slayer butt. And like right now. Taking a deep breath, she walks into the hall where Xander is fixing the wall. There are three potentials following him at the moment and two don't even speak the language.
One girl is clapping after every step in the repair. It is just too much!
"Xander, Buffy says we need some things at the store. You feel up to driving?" She asks brightly and hopefully not too fake-sounding.
She is a little afraid that her mouth is going to open and she is going to say, "Xander, if I don't get you alone and soon, I am going to explode."
The one potential that does speak English indicates her wish to accompany them to the store as Xander puts up his materials. Oh God, think fast Dawn! "Aaaah, we've got so much to buy that by the time we get back out to the car there isn't going to be any room even in the backseat. That's it no room, no room at all."
Xander is coming back into the hall by then and hears the exchange. He admits that it does a man's ego good to know the woman he loves is willing to lie and plot to be alone with him. He was going to say cheat and steal too but he is so hoping that Dawn is over her Winona Ryder phase.
He coughs to get her attention. "Malady, your carriage awaits." He says gallantly and bows. He holds out his arm to her and escorts her out the front door. As they go out the door, she can't help but turn her head to smirk at the lot of potentials in their wake.
Now that they are alone, Xander feels like he is the one who is seventeen. He tells himself that he and Dawn have been alone in this very car at least a hundred times – going to school, going home… However, nothing can negate that this is different - that they have sneaked out of the house for the sole purpose of being alone – being alone together that is... He remembers how he felt last year when he found out about Buffy and Spike. He wonders if….
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP…green light. Xander shakes his head and goes through the light.
"Aaaah, are you OK? With the medicine and all? Didn't the doctor say it was fine to drive when you felt like it? I mean if you want me to drive…" Dawn says as she slips out of her seat belt to slide closer to the middle of the front and reach for him over the gear shift.
She touches his arm and he jumps, he hasn't realize exactly how tense he is until now. "No, I'm fine. Just thinking about things, about us. Spike knows."
"I figured as much, when he threw you into the wall this morning.
You two seemed pretty lovey-dovey while Buffy was giving her sermon."
"Dawn, he loves you. He loves Buffy. No matter what our history may be, we have those two things in common. We both recognize that in each other. I hate to admit it but he is different. He's been different but now, sometimes, you can see, really see this other person. He's careful about it like it's a cut or something but it's there. He can just hide his wounds a hell of a lot easier than I can."
At that, Xander laughs, 'Oh God, did you hear that? Now I am singing Kum-by-ya with Spike what next?"
Dawn laughs too. It makes her happy to see him reaching out, seeing something different in someone he had made his mind up about long ago. "I'm proud of you" she announces.
"Proud of me? Why?"
"You made up your mind a long time ago about Spike, about him being bad. And it seemed like nothing was ever going to make you see that it just wasn't that simple. But, now you are seeing something different. It makes me believe that you can see me as more than just a little girl. It gives me hope."
Before he can believe it, he's said, "Oh no! Enough with the visual imagery. Isn't that what Caleb said? I'm the one who sees things."
Suddenly, Dawn looks stricken. It wasn't her intention to have him think of that, to relive that awful moment. " Oh, Xander, that's not what I meant…" She looks close to tears and he must face himself and his own ghosts to be the man she needs him to be.
Xander has never taken compliments well, not believing them or worrying that he wasn't truly worthy of them. He knows that his typical reaction is to have a sly, sarcastic response ready to buffer his ego and to keep the person at arm's length. But hey, when you've already lost one eye, what else have you got to lose? On second thought, don't answer that buddy, he thinks.
He takes a deep breath and steps off another ledge. He turns to look at her, "Gee, thank you Dawn. I mean really thank you. I used to think about things as either good or bad. Black or white. But all of this, all of this has taught me that it's not that easy, even if you try to pretend it is. I mean, look at me and Anya. I tried to pretend everything was good, everything was fine and look how that went. I was supposed to be one of the white hats, so was Willow…so was Tara… and …well, you know. I've had to look at how I think about myself and everybody else too. I guess, there is good and bad in everyone, it's what you do with it that counts. What you do today. "
He looks at her to gauge her reaction, she is listening intently, her eyes dry. It gives him the courage to go on. "Dawnie, I love you.
Don't worry, I'm not going to talk myself out of it. It's not like that. I just…I just want to be careful with you. You are so young and I've been through so much. But I'm not noble enough to walk away, I won't. You are stuck with me. Are you good with that?"
As he poses this last question, Dawn looks around, the car has stopped. Incredibly, he has pulled up in front of his apartment. He hasn't slept there since the accident. He hasn't even been there.
Spike and Faith went over and got his stuff and that's it.
Xander realizes where he has brought them. He guesses it is just a natural reflex. Another darker part of his brain, says no. He has brought them here for a reason. She wants to be alone with him. He wants to be alone with her. When his anxieties about her age, her vulnerability come up, his worthiness - he reminds himself of his own recent words – there isn't any black and white – just gray.
And it looks as if they are going to partake of that gray between black and white right now.
Xander takes a deep breath and moves around to open the car door for her. As she stands beside of him, he feels intensively aware of her. He is a bit in awe of her of her physical presence.
She is tall, taller than Buffy, taller than Willow, taller than Anya even. She comes right below his nose and he anticipates how she will feel pressed against him. Sometime recently, she has cut her long chestnut hair so that it skims her shoulders. Somehow, the length makes her wide, hazel eyes look even bigger. And her eyes - graced with long dark lashes and framed with arching brows that show surprise so easily. They are beautiful. His gaze travels down her straight nose to her generous mouth. He has never really taken the time to consider that mouth before but now that he has, he doesn't think he will ever stop.
"Xander, Xander, are you OK? You looked like you were somewhere else there for a second."
"No, I'm fine. I was just thinking…thinking about you actually." He smiles a fairly flirtatious, appraising smile at her. It's almost as if he is trying it out on her to see her reaction.
It delights her for him to regard her as such. She smiles back, tipping her face towards his. She feels up to his challenge. "Sometimes, I think about you too."
Looking into her eyes, looking at her mouth – he takes her hand and leads her to his apartment.
When they enter, he can tell that at some point, Anya has been there. She has cleaned up the place for him and for that, he is grateful. He's forgotten what a nice place it is. What he's been able to achieve. Standing here now, further removed from the traveling circus at Buffy's house, life seems almost normal, almost possible. Like the past couple weeks have just been a nightmare.
Dawn coughs behind him, getting his attention. Smiling broadly, she says "You're doing it again, you know. Spacing out on me."
"I'm sorry. I was just thinking. Standing here, away from everything, it seems pretty normal here. I was thinking that it feels good to be away for a little bit."
She nods, "It is nice, the quiet." She closes her eyes, "Just listen."
He suddenly realizes why they are here and the nerves are back. "Aaaa, Dawnie – do you want something to drink or something?"
She seems to be feeling the same way. She jumps a bit when he asks her if she wants a drink. She smiles nervously, "Sure, thanks."
While he gets the cokes, she perches on the couch. He comes in, puts the drinks on the coffee table and sits down beside her.
He clears his throat and looks at her, "Listen Dawnie, maybe this isn't such a good idea. I mean, you're so young and things are so confusing right now. It's easy to confuse fear, or even pity" he says softly, "with something else. I just want so much for you…"
She doesn't allow him to continue, before he can finish, she launches herself at him. The momentum of her body pushing him back. She litters his mouth with sharp inexperienced kisses as she speaks.
"Xander Harris" KISS " You listen to me" KISS "I am not confused!" KISS "I am in love with you!" KISS "And you love me!" KISS "So just get over it!" KISS
He manages to subdue her frantic movements. Holding her shoulders he moves her back from his face. He looks into her eyes, he knows she is right. He knows this is right. In this, he does not doubt himself, he realizes.
A smile blooms on his face as he looks at her. She secretly thinks he looks dashing with the patch over his eye, like a pirate in a romance novel but she knows that this is the last thing he needs to hear so she keeps her mouth shut. She decides that she is quickly moving out of her knowledge base and fears that he may misjudge any hesitation on her part as second thoughts.
"Xander, I want this, I want you. I don't want to have any regrets. All we have is right now. Anything else – we can't control. But we have this, we have each other. Please, Xander!" She pleads as she struggles to kiss him again.
He takes one hand from her arm and pushes her hair back from her face. The expression on his face eases her mind. He comes forward and presses a light, soft kiss on her mouth. He presses his forehead to hers and whispers, "Dawn, I want this to be special for you – for us. It's OK. It's OK to slow down. Just take a breath."
He feels her calm, her heart slow a bit. "There, now listen. We don't have to do anything, you shouldn't feel like you need to do this for me. I can just hold you. Just looking at you, seeing your smile is enough for me. Do you hear me?"
She nods, "I know, I know but this is what I need, I feel it. Don't you feel it?" She asks a little desperately.
She is right, he does feel it. Again, he reminds himself to trust himself, to trust her. He relaxes. Once the decision is made, another part of him rears up. A part of him that he is just getting to know. He feels like a conqueror. He feels in control, he feels her complete trust in him and this willing vulnerability empowers him as nothing else ever has.
With the door to doubt closed, he sets his sights on making this as perfect as he can for her. This should happen with him, with her in his hands. He is sure of that, of himself and of her.
Dawn can see the struggle that Xander has been going through clearly on his face. She can also see the second that his decision is made. She senses that she has won.
He pulls her to him for another soft kiss. She presses into him showing him her enthusiasm. "Easy baby, it's OK, this isn't a race. If we are going to do this, then we are going to do it right. Just relax, just feel, I don't expect anything from you except for you to let me know what you feel– what you like and what you don't. That's all."
He moves her back and stands up. For a minute, she feels rejected despite his words. Then she realizes that he is waiting for her. She stands and realizes that it is his intention to take her to his bed.
She looks around curiously. She has never been in his bedroom before. The room is nice. As an afterthought, she realizes that Anya decorated it in all likelihood. The linens match a little too well to have been Xander's choice.
While she stands there, he hurries around the room pulling back the bedspread and turning on some music she's never heard before. He kicks off his shoes and turns to her. She, in turn, kicks off her shoes. He takes her by the waist and pulls her to him for a kiss. Somehow, it seems like the most awkward kiss in the history of the world. Xander pulls back with a silly, pained expression. "Why don't we get comfortable, like I said I don't want to push it."
Xander turns off the music and turns on the TV. Pretty soon, they are lying on the bed flipping through the channels. Finally, they choose the Trading Spaces marathon and settle into making fun of the stupid things that the people are doing.
Slowly they relax. It is nice to do something fun and normal and alone. They have moved the pillows down to the foot of the bed and are both lying on their stomachs watching the show. As things settle, the warmth radiating from Xander draws her to him and she moves her body closer to his. They have watched TV together a thousand times but never this close to one another.
As the show finishes up and another one starts, Xander puts his arm around her as they lay their heads on their respective pillows. They roll so that they are facing one another. She smiles a goofy smile and he smiles an equally goofy smile back.
He reaches over and uses the remote to turn off the TV. The room is now dark only lit by the lights coming in from the parking lot. They can still see each other clearly. He tries to think of something witty to say but can't come up with anything and seems content to watch him intently until he comes up with something.
"Dawn?" he asks. He takes his arm from around her and brushes her hair back from her face. She closes her eyes at his touch. She doesn't realize it but she also arches into his touch as well. The small, involuntary movement warms him.
His hand doesn't leave her as his fingers spear through her hair to the back of her head. He begins to lightly massage the back of her head, playing with her hair. She sighs like a kitten being petted and arches further into the caress.
He can't resist her full lips any longer. He leans forward and traces their outline with the tip of his tongue. The gesture surprises her. Throughout their increasing affection of the past few days, he has refrained from kissing her with his tongue. The intimate feel it of excites her further and she opens her mouth wide to allow him entrance.
Careful not to insult her, he draws back and touches his forehead to her. "Dawn, Honey, don't try so hard quite yet. Just relax, let it come naturally." She blinks in response and simply waits for him to come back to her. She is scared that any comment from her will break the spell.
Xander moves forward again, again tracing her lips with his tongue. He does this once, twice, three times before gently drawing her lower lip into his mouth and sucking on it like a delicate fruit.
She has never felt a sensation like this before. Boys have kissed her but this is something entirely different. She feels her whole body begin to throb in response. Of their own accord her hips arch towards his and in an effort to get her body even closer she curls one leg around his thigh increasing the desired contact.
As she curls about him, he reminds himself to go slow. She tastes so good. He draws back an inch or two and begins to nip at her lips with his own – one then the other. Soon she catches on to the game and begins to mimic his actions. The feel of her sweet, lush lips clinging to his own is a balm for his soul.
Minutes pass as each learns the feel and the taste of the other. They experiment with different degrees of pressure, different angles. He has hesitated to come fully into her mouth. He senses that once he does that they will move to yet another level of intimacy.
He realizes that while he has been fully focusing on her mouth and this kissing game, their lower bodies have been twining together on their accord. One of her long legs is curled around him and her groin is tilted into his, allowing for as much contact as the position provides. She is rubbing herself against him – this way and that – as if trying to find just the right spot.
In return, his pelvis is moving rhythmically against her. He wants nothing more than to roll her beneath him and grind into her. But he calms himself and schools himself to think about his next step. He moves his hands to her arms as they continue to kiss. He eases her onto her back but stays beside her.
Once she is settled in this new position, he touches her breast lightly with one palm. At this touch, her eyes fly open. Just as she begins to miss the contact with his lower half, all of her attention is brought to this one spot. She is looking at his open palm as he rubs it over the very tip of her breast. It is really just a whisper of a touch but it feels like fire to her. As she feels her breast, respond and her nipple pucker as if to seek his touch out, she lets out a sigh.
As soon as the sound is out of her mouth, she looks at Xander for some kind of confirmation that it is all right to make noise. He smiles a warm smile down at her. "So, we've found something she likes" he teases. He brings his big, blunt fingertips to the buttons on her blouse and plays with them. "Can I?" he asks.
She nods furiously, scared that her voice will betray her need. He comes up on his elbow and unbuttons her blouse with his free hand. When he finishes, he pulls back further to gaze at her before coming back to kiss her some more, this time with his hand firmly cupping and caressing her breast through her bra.
The combination of Xander's kissing tutorial and her own escalating arousal combine to intensify their kisses. Before Xander realizes it, their tongues are touching – playfully at first and then with increasing force. Her mouth is hot and sweet and her lips cling to his.
Until now, Dawn has been fairly passive but now she finds that she must move, she must touch him. The feel of him, the taste of him is driving her. Her self-consciousness has been replaced by desire. And it feels so good, so cleansing, so right that her soul seems to sing. Her arms go around his neck and she pulls him to her. He goes willingly. Like their lips and tongues before, their bodies seem to slip and slide together until exactly the right spot is found.
Once Dawn begins to assert herself in the exchange, Xander finds it increasingly hard to stay removed from the proceedings enough to modulate his actions for her benefit. A primal part of his brain is taking over. Finally, with one last shred of reason, he decides that from all indications things are going along quite well. After that, thoughts become less important. Touching her is all that matters.
She pulls at his tee shirt and he complies by pulling it over his head. As soon as his shirt is off, he reaches for snap on her bra. Once it is off, his kisses follow. She runs her fingers through his hair, careful to leave the eye patch in place. She lays back and lets the exquisite feelings rush over he as he suckles her breasts. She feels the invisible thread that runs from her breasts to her most feminine spot. The escalating sensation drives her to arch into him and run her hands over his waist and below.
RING-RING-RING
RING-RING-RING
The sound will not stop and he pulls away fumbling for the phone on the dresser.
"Hello? Molly? Grocery Store? Yes?…OK, sure. No, it's going to be a while."
Dawn mentally curses that the troop at Chez Buffy can reach them even here. Then Xander is back. "I turned off the phone. Are, are you OK, I mean…"
She says, "Shut up" and throws herself back into his arms. She will be damned before anyone ruins this for either of them.
It is Dawn who reaches between them and unzips his pants. She then slides her hands back to his waist and pulls the jeans down his legs. Finally, it seems. He helps her and then he is wearing only his boxers and they do little to hide his need. Her shorts and underwear are next and then last, his boxers.
They lie on their sides still backwards on the bed, their heads facing the TV. They are both breathing hard and Dawn is feeling tremors inside of her that she has never felt before. When he places a big hand on her stomach she jumps but he soothes and continues until he is gently parting her and entering her this way. She is too far-gone to be embarrassed and looks up at him with the most needful expression as she becomes acquainted with these new feelings.
Suddenly, this isn't enough for her, and she is pleading, "Please, Please, Please". He increases his movement but she continues to ask for more. He can't take it anymore and whatever control to keep things moving slowly fails him and this time he rolls her onto her back.
"Dawn, Honey, this is it, OK?"
Dawn is a little frustrated. She is not a china doll. She is a teenage girl – all flesh and blood and raging hormones. "Yes, a thousand times, Yes! Just do it."
Although at this point, Xander seems to think otherwise, she is not stupid by any stretch of the imagination. She has seen enough, read enough and heard enough to understand the mechanics of this event quite well. Since he is taking things like an eighty-year-old man, she decides to take matters back into her own hands.
Dawn flips and now Xander is on his back. Before he can recover from the shock, she has sat up and straddled him. Reaching down and touching him for the first time, she guides him to her and pushes down.
She pushes down harder; she wants this so badly. Finally, he seems to decide to help her and he pushes up while she pushes down. She feels a 'pop' and then he is inside. He is inside her. She is amazed.
The expression on Dawn's face beats all of the Christmases he has ever had. Any lurking reservations that he may have harbored are gone. This is so right.
She stays still and just relishes the feel of him. The bit of pain she feels burns a little bit but to her even the sting feels good – the significance of it.
Xander is in awe of her. He has never been with a virgin before, even when he was one. He is determined to make this good for her even though logic suggests that this is more of something that is usually suffered through than enjoyed.
Once he is in, he tries hard not to move. Dawn is uncharacteristically quiet. "Dawn? Honey, do you want to stop?" he asks as he begins to move away. She pushes into him to try and counter his retreat, "No, God, No. Stay, I'm fine…It's just…I've… I've never felt anything like this … it's like we are… we are…" She suddenly squeezes him from inside, and then again. Speech is beyond her now.
He realizes that while she is killing him little by little, she is starting to revel in the feel of their joining. He strives to stay as still as he can as she plays. Think, Xander, think. Think about anything but how this feels. He has never encountered anything remotely like this in his life.
He feels a little spasm run through her and caress him, the twitch seems to spur her on and she wiggles on top of him while arching back. He can't wait any longer. His hands move up to cup her breasts, such ample breasts for a young girl, so generous with their pink tips. He moves his hands to shift her and before she can realize his intent, he has sat up and she is impaled upon him with her legs around his waist.
If the look on her beautiful face is any indication, the position is very much to her liking. Her mouth opens as if to speak and then closes. He provides her with a word – two words actually – "Trust me" and with that, he begins to move her with his hands on her hips. She comes almost at once and instead of being sated, she becomes eager for more and takes over the rhythm that he has begun.
She smiles brightly, "I think I'm getting the hang of this".
He smiles back, "I would say so but then again practice makes perfect."
She responds by kissing him, catching at his lips as he has taught her so recently.
With her arms around his neck and her body fully in command, he is finally free to touch her and love her at his own pace which at this point is more frenzied than he would have liked. When his fingers find her, she unravels quickly and fully, taking him along with her.
The minutes after are quiet and dear, neither wanting to move. Xander feels more alive and more at peace than he has in months – maybe in forever. Finally, he breaks the silence, "I hate to say this, but we better be getting back. They'll be looking for us."
She sighs and hugs him tighter, "Can't we just stay this way, forever".
"I wish."
She pulls back to look at him with a crooked grin, "If you think that I am going to be OK with being with you only once in a while, you are out of your mind. This is better than Captain Crunch with syrup poured over it."
Xander laughs - really laughs for the first time in a long while, "I'm glad the lady is pleased." He goes on with more seriousness, "We do need to be careful. Now, is just not the time to distract Buffy."
"I know but I am just staking out my territory, making myself clear. I'll be discreet but I will not go back to the way it was. We need each other too much. "
"When did you get so smart?" he teases.
"Don't you know? I have an old soul." She declares as she kisses him again.
It is well after 9:00 PM when Xander and Dawn pull up with the groceries. As soon as he turned the phone back on, it had begun to ring with more shopping requests. After a staggering bill of a $248.15 with their discount card – (they did have a combined savings of $15.38) – they were finally on their way.
As soon as they pull up in the driveway, potentials run out to help bring in the bags. It seems one is craving dairy and one is craving tuna – go figure! They make their exit in all the confusion. They leave the food to the potentials and head in the front door.
The usual circus is present but more subdued because Giles is in the room as is Anya. Anya does seem to have a way of shutting the little slayerettes up. They are all fearful of what she will say next. Neither of them figures that she will pay them any attention at all. It seems that since Xander's injury, she has had the presence of mind to say nothing at all for fear of what might come out of her mouth if she did speak.
Anya's high level of discomfort over his disfigurement as compared to Dawn's pragmatic acceptance, again, points to the rightness of his recent actions. Xander lets Dawn walk in first, following at a companionable distance. She takes a seat in front of the TV beside of Andrew who is watching Cheers on Nick at Night. He dives into a discussion of why unresolved sexual tension is always better on shows than resolved sexual tension. Dawn listens faithfully while trying to not track Xander's every movement.
Xander takes a seat on the much-repaired coffee table across from Giles and Anya. "So what's the latest?" He asks. "Any sign of evil, eyeball-snatching preacher guy?"
In response to his poorly worded question, Giles begins to clean his glasses and Anya looks at the floor. Andrew takes the bait and stops his discussion at Moonlighting and provides Xander with a detailed summary of the whereabouts of the great majority of their troop.
Faith and Buffy are patrolling. Spike is fashioning stakes with metal tips out on the deck with Willow and Kennedy. The half of the slayerettes that aren't in the kitchen are painting their toenails down in the guest bedroom while watching Bring It On.
Both Xander and Dawn are just beginning to relax when Anya speaks. "Xander, you are looking surprising better. You have that I Just Showered in the Middle of the Day because I had Sex look."
Xander feels his heart drop to his stomach. Where is the medication- induced haze when you need it? He tries his damnest not to look at Dawn and innocently addresses his ex. "Anya, you have got to be kidding but I thank you for the complement. I am going for the just showered look. The smelly, sweaty one-eyed thing wasn't really working for me."
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Dawn nervously switching channels as she covertly monitors the conversation. He tries to psychically will her to not turn around.
Anya is like a dog with a bone, she just won't let up and by now, she has Giles' attention too. She leans closer to him and sniffs. "Xander, you have definitely had sex. You smell like my Victoria's Secret Ripe Mango Shower Gel and you and I both know that you only use that if…" her voice drifts off as he holds his breath for what is coming next.
"You had SEX IN THE SHOWER!" She screams.
If anyone in the house had not heard that then they were deaf. Indeed, Willow, Kennedy and Spike pop in behind the host of potentials from the kitchen. He hears footsteps on the stairs but chooses not to turn around. Andrew has turned around and is eagerly watching the proceedings. Only Dawn sits with her eyes firmly planted on the television.
He makes eye contact with Spike who looks none to happy at Anya's revelation. He can do nothing but deny – "Anya, OK, I took a shower, I was out of soap, that's all - end of story".
Anya doesn't know when to quit, "but Xander that shower gel is at your apartment not here."
OK, he thinks to himself, what now? Got to think fast, "OK, you caught me, I went to my apartment on the way to the grocery. I made Dawn wait for me while I got some clothes together and took a shower. Is that a crime?"
Looking at Anya, he can almost see the wheels turning in her head. "Why would you drive all the way across town to take a shower?"
That was it, that was enough, he finds himself raising his voice "Anya, I can take a shower where I damn well please and with whatever soap I damn well please, LET IT GO!"
This outburst from the resident invalid breaks up the little party and finally shuts Anya up. He can tell by looking at her that she is still suspicious. He decides to make a hasty retreat. "Well, I'm going to bed, no rest for the weary or the one-eyed for that matter."
Willow pipes up on her way back out to the deck, "Xander – do you need help with your dressings and stuff?"
"Aaaah no, I mean, I told Dawnie she could do it, she's got this nurse-thing going pretty good. I think she's going to write a report on it or something." Xander knows that pulling the homework card is always a good one with Willow and she retreats.
With that, Xander heads up the stairs, heading for the relative safety of Dawn's room.
As soon as Xander is up and out of the way, Dawn stands up. Addressing no one in particular, she says, "Yep, gonna write a report on the history of dressing eye wounds through the ages". Looking brightly at Giles and Anya she asks, "Want to proof it?" Both shake their heads as she flies past them and up the stairs.
While Giles retreats into his book, Anya considers what has just occurred and the fact that as Dawn passed her she caught a strong whiff of ripe mango.
With her wheels still turning at a furious pace, Anya turns to Giles and asks "Did you not smell the fruity yet seductive scent of ripe mango with just a hint of vanilla?"
Exasperated, Giles looks up from his book,. "Anya, simply let it go. Did you not hear Xander say that he took a shower with the - the whatever-you-call-it soap. You must seriously think in some context other than a sexual one at some time or another. You might find it quite stimulating."
Also exasperated, Anya stands. There are parties out on the back deck who are likely to be more interested in her shower gel than Rupert.
Anya finds Willow and Kennedy swooning over each other on the back steps. God only knows why a woman would want another woman, when she could have a MAN? I mean, really! She really doesn't even LIKE other women all that much. Why would she ever…
"Did you come out here to help or just to take up space?"
Spike's voice rouses her from her thoughts and she turns. He continues to be a most satisfactory example of male beauty. He is also quite skillful in the finer arts of…
"Hello? I guess it's just to take up space." the British voice says sarcastically.
She looks down on his peroxide blond curls, hands on hips and announces "I would have you know that I found you more tolerable before the soul."
"I don't doubt that you did." He intones with a slight smile. He was much easier to understand before the soul too. That was one of the things that she used to like about him, he always said what he truly thought. And now, now he was no better than the rest of them. Oh well, she decides to forge ahead.
"I have come to ask if you perhaps noticed that both Xander and Dawn smelled of Wild Mango Shower Gel? Given your vampire sense of smell and all."
He stands and stops what he is doing to speak to her. His movement draws the attention of the two on the steps too. His voice is a little more stressed now. "Demon Girl, do you ever shut up? Now is not the time. Anyway, I thought you were done with the whelp."
Before Anya can press her case further, Willow speaks up, "What's this about Xander and Dawn?"
Anya, frustrated from her efforts to get her point across, decides that she needs to spell it out for these obviously dense people. In a loud voice, she puts her conclusion as plainly as she can. "Xander and Dawn had sex in the shower at his apartment today! Don't you people GET IT!"
Just as Anya is expressing herself so eloquently, Buffy and Faith are coming in the back gate. While Buffy has some difficulty wrapping her brain around the revelation, Faith does not. "Well, go ahead Xand-man!"
Buffy walks numbly up the back steps and sits down. By the time she looks around, all of the innocent bystanders have made a hasty exit, leaving only Spike.
Reminiscent of other evenings, he sits quietly beside her waiting for her to speak. She finally brings her face up from where it has been cradled in her hands. She looks at Spike with a bewildered expression.
"Tell me she's wrong."
"Sorry, Pet, can't do that."
She shakes her head incredulously "Don't tell me you've known" and covers her face again.
"The shower thing is news to me, but I picked up on something between them."
Coming up for air again, she begins to put two and two together. "That's why you had Xander up against the wall."
"The lady wins the prize."
"I just don't think I can handle this right now. I mean Dawn…my God, she's a child…"
"At her age, you were with Angel and he's a hell of a lot older than Harris."
At that she turns her head to look at him. Her weary eyes in his blue ones, "Don't tell me you're OK with this."
"No but my usual way of handling it didn't seem to be getting it this morning. When I don't like something, my general inclination is to beat whatever it is to a bloody pulp. In this case, I'm thinking that's not a go."
This at least brings a tired smile to her face, "I'm better at good and evil, black and white - this gray stuff is killing me." Wearily she stands.
"So, what are you going to do?" he asks as he looks at the woman he loves.
"I don't know. I'm too tired to do anything about it right now. Like I said this gray stuff is killing me."
As she gets to the door, she turns back to him. "Um, thank you. I mean, for listening and all."
"Anytime."
When Buffy enters the kitchen, it is full of girls having a late night cereal break. Surveying the room, none of the usual suspects are there so she heads to the den. Thankfully, Anya has left to spread her mischief elsewhere. Maybe they should send Anya over to that nest of Bringers and let her drive them all crazy.
Giles is there, sitting on the sofa going over yet another musty old book. She lands beside of him, realizing that this is the first time since the episode with Wood and Spike that she has been this close to him.
Her presence startles Giles and he looks reasonably surprised to see her. He is unsure what to say.
"How was patrolling? I take it Faith was helpful."
She answers distractedly, "Um, yeah. Actually it seems like most of the little bads are packing up and gettin' out of Dodge too."
"Yes, well…" Giles says, like he always does when he doesn't know what else to say.
Buffy figures she may as well go ahead and blurt it out. "Giles, do you know anything about Dawn and Xander?"
"Dawn and Xander? In what way? Oh, yes, she did mention something about changing his dressings. It seems that she has developed some interest in nursing or rather something like it."
OK, at least one person is further out of the loop than she is - hooray. "No, I mean, Dawn and Xander being involved."
He continues to give her one of those does-not-compute looks.
"Sex, Giles." She says as she runs out of patience. "Anya says that Dawn and Xander have had sex!"
At least this gets a reaction from Giles. The clean-my-glasses reaction but still a reaction none the less. "Ah, no. I say, is she sure?"
"Well, if Anya knows anything, its sex. Plus, Spike knows too."
"Dear me, no. I had no idea."
"What should I? I mean, she's still in high school. Xander's an adult, well kind of anyway."
Looking down Giles speaks, "I should say, I don't know what you should do. When you - when you became - became um, involved with Angel. I did learn one thing. The harder I pushed, the closer you became to him. But I dare say, Xander is no Angel. Good God, Angel was a two hundred and fifty year old vampire with a curse, Xander is - well, Xander has turned out to be a - a rather responsible young man now that I think about it."
Listening to Giles' words, Buffy leans back on the sofa and closes her eyes. It's like this is punishment for every bad mistake she's ever made in her own love life. She searches her brain for some hint of what to do and finds none. She should probably go talk to them - both of them - but she just doesn't have the energy right now. Other than Anya, no one seems to screaming about it anyway.
On that thought, Buffy heads up to bed. On the bright side, she thinks, at least I know where Dawn is and who she's with.
It feels pretty weird being back in Dawnie's room after everything that has happened in the course of the day. Lots of feelings keep zapping through Xander's head - the head-over-heels feeling being one of them. That being the most prevalent, there is also worry, guilt and fear. Worry over how this will play out, how it will end of affecting Dawn, guilt over the disparity in their ages and his lack of care over it, and last but not least the fear that something out of his control will swoop down and rip them apart. While a close examination of this jumble of emotions might typically point to paranoia, in the Hellmouth, it seems like plain good sense.
Xander spends several minutes trying to figure out what to wear or not wear to sleep in. This decided, the dilemma progresses to above the sheets or below the sheets. Ultimately, he decides that life is just too damn short and unexpected. He goes with the boxers and a T- shirt under the covers.
When Dawn opens the door, she has already put on Buffy's Sushi pajamas. She dutifully carries all the first aid supplies with her. With a bit of a forced smile, she announces, "Nurse Dawn, reporting for duty."
Xander catches the awkwardness in her demeanor. "Tough crowd, huh?"
She looks at him blankly, "Downstairs, I mean, tough crowd."
"Ah, yeah." She answers as she climbs up on the bed to face him. He reaches out and takes her hand before she can start with the nurse- bit.
Hesitantly, she brings her eyes up to meet his. He waits until she looks at him before he continues, "Hey, just stop a minute. You having some regrets? Cause' if you are, Dawn, I'm ---"
She doesn't give him any time to finish before she interrupts, "No, double no, triple no, no! It's just - it's just - coming back into all this kind-of takes the wind out of your sails, ya' know?"
He smiles a warm, gentle smile. "I take your meaning and I second it. It is pretty weird. Anya didn't help matters. I'm sorry, sometimes I forget how she can be---"
Her eyebrows come together in a wrinkle at the mention of Anya's name. Sometimes it seems like Anya is everything she's not - poised, worldly---hell, otherworldly! "It's OK, I know---"
She looks down as she finishes as he immediately senses her worry. He draws her chin up again so that she is looking at him. Suddenly, there is a playful light in his eye - Oh God, she thinks - not two but one - eye. She reacts to all the stresses and joys of the day and before he can speak, a tear slides down her face.
Xander sees the tear and pulls her into his arms. Once in the safety of his embrace, the tears fall more forcefully until she is having a good cry - the kind that will leave you most unattractive. Nestled in his arms, she can't see that he is crying too.
Tears are already wetting his cheeks before Xander realizes that some of the tears are his own. He rocks her as they both cry for what seems like an eternity.
When they are both cried out, he continues to hold her and rock her. One thing that age has taught him is patience. Somehow, he seems to understand all the complicated and messy reasons that she was crying for. Hell, he was crying for those same reasons. When she finally pulls back from him. She smiles. "I must look hideous."
"Actually, I was thinking that I haven't seem a more beautiful sight."
At a loss for words, she starts to get back to work, when he catches her again. "Stop for just a minute, OK?"
"Ah, sure." She still seems a little nervous.
Taking both of her hands in his own, he goes on, "Dawnie, I want you to know that - that my intentions towards you - with you - are completely honorable. I would have never - I would have never done what we did today - if I didn't intend on being with you until the day I die."
All she can think of is that he looks as if he is headed off to another funeral, not professing his love. Before she can stop herself, she butts in, " Xander, it's OK. I didn't ask for anything, it's cool."
He responds in a firmer voice, the earlier awkward tenderness giving way to something deeper, stronger. "Dawnie, don't do that. You know full well that what we did today is the most important thing that either of us have ever done. And I am damn well not going to screw it up and neither are you."
She is caught by the harshness of his words. This is the part of Xander that has been fashioned from heartache and loss and courage. She admits to herself that part of her - the little girl without her daddy, the teenager with no clue - finds great comfort in this alpha male setting some limits, deciding where they are going.
She nods solemnly, "Yes, sir." Before she breaks out in a smile. Devilishly she adds, "Do you want to spank me?"
Her playfulness draws him out in his darkening mood. "You watch yourself, little girl." He teases.
After the tears and the limit testing, both seem back to themselves. Xander lies back on the pillows, "Do your worst, I'm yours to do with what you will."
In Joyce's old room, Willow and Kennedy are turning in. Willow brushes Kennedy's long dark hair as they unwind.
Still unaware of the majority of the complex ties between the Scoobies, Kennedy speaks out in her blunt way. "So, what's the deal with Xander doing the deed with Dawn? Last time I looked, she looked all grown up to me. She's what a year younger than me if that. I lost my virginity when I was fifteen."
Kennedy senses that she has said the wrong thing as she senses Willow tense up as she stops brushing her hair. She turns to Willow, readying herself for a discussion that she's in no mood for.
When Willow begins to talk, she's stammering like she does when she's uneasy. "It's just Dawnie is, well in a way, she's been like a little girl to all of us. We've had to take care of her, see that she was OK. It's like seeing someone in a place that you never thought you would. And Xander, well, Xander - I don't know. I never saw this one coming. They have been a lot closer this year and when he came back from the hospital, she was right there."
Willow pauses, it is obvious that she is trying to come to some sort of conclusion about this new twist. Kennedy has learned that Willow likes to categorize everything and right now she is trying to decide what box to put this one in. Given the time that she is taking, Kennedy guesses that this one has even thrown the witch for a loop.
When she gets ready to speak, her face has cleared and she seemed less worried. "Xander is my friend. God, last year, if it hadn't been for him. Well, you know ---. I believe in him. I don't think he'd hurt Dawnie for the world. If this is what he wants - what she wants - I'm with them. When I lost Tara, I didn't think I was going to make it ---." Willow shakes her head a bit, deciding not to go down that path. "I just think if --- if they love each other, good for them."
Xander is waiting on Dawn so he can turn off the light. Part of this little nighttime ritual seems so right. He sees her open a drawer and take out a couple pills. She grabs the glass of water that he has used to take his own pills and swallows before climbing in bed.
"You OK?"
"Yeah, why? Oh the pills! I've been on the pill since I went to the doctor last year. You know, just in case. Plus I took two Advil. I am kind of sore - but a good, yummy kind of sore." She adds.
Xander feels his stomach drop for about the hundredth time in the past twenty-four hours, "Oh Dawnie, I totally forgot about birth control. What a jerk!"
"It's OK, I didn't expect you to - it's my body, I'll take care of it."
She sounds so mature when she says this, it warms his heart - this combination of responsibility and innocence. "Still, Dawn, I should have at least thought about it, asked about it. I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you!"
She laughs at his pronouncement, "Hey, you are talking to Nurse Dawnie, I'll have you know."
He pulls her close with one arm as he reaches to turn out the light with the other, "I love you, you know? I guess we just need to learn to take care of each other."
She turns so that he can spoon her in his arms as they fall off to sleep, "Sounds like a plan," she whispers.
Spike has finally gotten settled after smoking one last cigarette with Faith. Got to hand it to the girl - she's tough. At least that what she projects. He knows that sometimes what you say and what you do are two very different things.
While he would prefer to keep to a nocturnal schedule, the only time it's quiet around this place is between 3:00 AM and 9:00 AM. Might as well try to rest up, God knows what's coming down the pipe next.
As soon as the door opens, he knows it's Buffy. He's immediately on his feet, grabbing for his shoes. "I'm coming, Ducks. What is it now?" He asks as she makes it to the bottom step.
She shakes her head. "No, it's not anything like that. It's nice and quiet. Faith and I didn't ever find anything on patrol."
He sits back down on his cot and surprisingly she sits down beside of him and grasps his hand. Leaning on his shoulder, she sighs.
Such moments with Buffy are pure danger and he finds himself holding an unneeded breath waiting for the other shoe to drop.
There they sit – the souled vampire and the burned-out slayer – what a pair, he thinks.
Eyes downcast, staring into nothing, she asks "What am I going to do, Spike?"
"'Bout what, Pet?"
"Dawn and Xander. It's all my fault. I haven't been there for her. I mean, look at this house – it's a mess. I have no idea if we've even got any food right now! And all these girls --- well, it's just not fair." Buffy lays her face in her hands and sighs.
Tentatively, Spike rubs her back. He thinks that she really must be beat since she doesn't even jump at his touch. He wonders if he should stop, if he is taking advantage of her sorrow, just as he took advantage of her despair last year. That's a road he doesn't want to go down again.
When he hears her sob, his touch becomes more definitive and before he can even think about the consequences of his actions, he has pulled her into his arms. There is a long, silent moment where he senses her indecision but it passes and she settles against him, pulling her legs up until she is practically curled into a little ball.
He rocks her softly as her tears subside into sleep.
The bright spring sunlight shining through the curtains wakes Dawn. She tries her best to go back to sleep. School is canceled until further notice - something about 'A High Risk of Earthquake.' Yeah right, why don't you just say 'Opps, we built the high school on top of the entrance to Hell." That would sum it up quite nicely, she thinks. Where is the Department of Homeland Security when you need it?
She figures that this is the end of her high school career. If she manages to live through the current apocalypse, she is going to take her High School Equivalency Exam. After all this, high school seems a little 'been there, done that.'
Checking the clock that Xander has so thoughtfully plugged back in, she sees that it is only 8:00 am. That's the middle of the night by Chez Buffy standards! Seizing the moment, she rolls over to find Xander sleeping peacefully on his back.
He is beautiful. The patch, the little crinkles around his eyes and the laugh lines around his mouth. These past trials have aged him beyond his years but he wears the maturity well. He looks like a man – a capable man. She thinks of the endless hours that she has watched him fix things, build things – make things better. She feels safe in his hands, like everything is going to be OK. Like she is that silly old coffee table downstairs. Every time it breaks, not only does he fix it but he makes it stronger than it was before.
She trails her fingers over his face, lightly tracing the beloved lines. He jumps at the sensation, rising up so quickly that he knocks her away.
He immediately comes awake. "Oh God, Dawnie! I'm sorry. Man, I didn't mean to do that. Guess, I'm still kind of jumpy – you know after the Caleb thing and all."
"It's OK, the doctors talked to Buffy and Willow about the Post Traumatic Stress Thingy. I should have thought about surprising you like that." Looking sad, she backs further away in the attempt to give him some space. "It's my fault."
He quickly moves to pull her close again, taking both of her hands in his. "It's fine, Dawnie. It's nobody's fault, least of all yours." Taking one of her hands, he pulls it to his face. "Don't ever stop touching me. God, if anything, you are the thing that is saving my sanity."
With her warm hand touching the side of his face and her huge, clear hazel eyes looking into his, he sees his salvation "Dawn, I love you. I don't think the words are enough to tell you how I feel. When I look at you, I want to live, I want to get through this, I want to get us through this. I want to give you the future you deserve, Dawnie."
Her generous mouth smiles in response to his impassioned speech and a girlish giggle escapes her.
"What, what's funny?" he asks as he moves his face closer to hers.
"It's just --- I'm so happy. I love you too. I've loved you for so long and I was so scared when you were hurt. When they wouldn't let me see you. I felt like part of me had been torn out. That's when I knew for sure. For sure, that it was more than a crush, that I needed you. That I needed to be a part of you".
About to kiss her, he whispers at her lips, "no worry there, you are definitely a part of me. A part of me that I need to get closer to right now".
With that, he closes the distance between them, sinking into her full lips, giving her soft, chaste kisses until she can bear it no more. She becomes the aggressor, eagerly deepening their kisses. He lets her set the pace as she gallops forward, her passionate exuberance more than makes up for any lack of finesse or experience.
After long minutes of increasingly intense kisses, he can stand it no longer and slides his hands under her pajama top and claims her firm flesh. Her nipples are already tight from want and she cries out at his touch. The pajama top is old and loose and it only takes a slight effort for it to become unbuttoned.
With a sparkle in her eyes, she lays back down settling among the pillows in hopes that he will follow. And follow he does – first with his hands. His work-hardened fingertips softly caress her until she can't bear the delicate contact. She surprises herself when her hands move from his shoulders to the back of his head to push his mouth to where she needs it most. She surprises herself again, when she cries out "Yes, oh yes." when he complies with her desire.
Her ardent response to his attentions absorbs him as nothing else has before. When he is with her, it is like they are at the absolute center of the universe. Her desire for him and the pleasure she takes is so sincere, so earnest that he is in awe of her. He has no doubt in her feelings for him and he strives to make sure she has none herself. The feel of her long, delicate fingers in his hair and the sounds of her pleasure are quickly driving him closer and closer to his destination.
When she feels him leave her breast, she immediately feels the loss. Before she can complain, he is inching down her belly, peppering her body with soft kisses interspersed with more carnal licks as if he is having her for breakfast. His fingers loop in the waistband of her pajamas pealing the cloth back as he goes. As she wraps her brain around his obvious intentions, her hips buck of their own accord. He looks up at her from his descent. The smile on his handsome face does paint him as a pirate.
When she gives a hesitant smile back, he continues without delay. He makes quick work of her underwear. She fights the urge push him back as unfamiliar feelings course through her. He seems to gather that she is overwhelmed and runs his hands up her inner thighs in a soothing gesture. Soon his touch has eased her and again she is ready for him.
When she draws her legs up to capture him, it's almost as if she is watching from above. It is just too incredible to be happening. The imagine of the two of them together in this way is the most arousing thing that she has ever dreamed of.
Soon the out of body feeling is gone, as all of her awareness flies to one single point of contact. Everything is tightening, coiling inside of her. Finally, the spring inside of her releases and releases and releases. It is the most exquisite feeling and her body is over loaded with electrical currents. There is only one thing that she can do to release this incredible feeling.
She screams at the top of her lungs.
Spike has finally drifted off to sleep after simply watching Buffy sleep for several hours. He wanted to memorize her sleeping face, her golden hair. Who knows if he will ever have another chance? He is overwhelmed that she trusts him enough to relax and go to sleep. There was a time not too long ago when she wouldn't do just that.
Suddenly, there is a scream from somewhere upstairs. Spike would know that voice anywhere. It's Dawn. What the hell now? It's sodden' daylight, don't these buggers ever give it a rest?
He's up, unceremoniously tossing Buffy in the floor. He is halfway up the stairs before Buffy wakes enough to follow. By the time, he reaches the main floor, he can hear footsteps upstairs and someone banging on a door. He stops just long enough to listen for a moment and wait for Buffy to catch up.
Buffy looks to him, "Dawn?" she asks as they start up the steps.
He nods, "Must be Tuesday, huh?"
When they reach the top of the stairs, they are treated to Willow with a sleepy Kennedy in tow. Banging on the door to Dawn's room, frantically calling out for Dawn. She turns to them, "It's locked!"
Spike immediately places himself at the wall opposite the door. "Move Ducks, I'm going in."
Just as Spike charges the door, it opens causing Spike to pretty much fall through the door in a most undignified way. He looks up to see Xander towering above him. "Bloody Christ, are you trying to kill me?" he asks.
Even though he has essentially been caught red-handed, Xander can't resist baiting Spike. "If I was trying to kill you, I'd have opened the drapes first."
Buffy rushes in, practically tripping over Spike who is now sitting in the floor. "Dawn, Dawn – I heard her scream – we heard her screaming." Willow, Kennedy, Andrew and a chorus of potentials follow.
A slightly high-pitched voice draws all eyes to the bed. "I'm right here."
Dawn sits in the middle of the bed, holding the sheets up to her neck. Her hair is messy and her face is red.
"What happened? We heard you scream." Buffy asks, quickly going to sit on the bed. Before she can help herself, she quickly surveys Xander's state of dress and then admonishes herself for even thinking such a thing.
She is relieved to see that Xander is dressed in sweats and a tee shirt. His hair is messy and he needs a shave but he's dressed – yes, thank goodness, an all covered up Xander is a good Xander, Buffy thinks.
Buffy jumps back to survey Dawn. "Dawn, come clean! Look at you!" She says in a very big sisterly tone.
Dawn's eyes are as wide as saucers and if possible her face looks even redder. Her voice sounds even a little squeakier than it did a minute before, when she speaks, "Come clean?" She asks. "'Bout what?"
Buffy's eyes narrow, "Don't give me that you know what I'm talking about."
"I do?" Dawn asks, her brain going blank at what to do. She can't look at Xander. Don't look at Xander, Dawnie!
"You know full well what I'm talking about young lady!" Buffy says in her best Joyce imitation.
Dawn can feel her heart beating double time. She chances a look around and catches Spike's eye. One look at him and she knows, he knows. Oh God!
"Go ahead, try to deny it!"
"Deny what?" she squeaks.
"YOU HAVE ON MY FAVORATE PAJAMAS AGAIN! Dawn, how many times have I told you to stay out of my closet!"
Dawn suddenly feels like all of the wind has rushed out of her lungs. She puts on her best pouty face, "But, Buffy, I feel so much safer when I have something of yours close to me". She throws her arms around her sister. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll never do it again. Double pinky-swear promise."
Buffy pulls back from the death grip that Dawn has her in. "So, tell me this. Why on earth, were you screaming loud enough to wake the dead?"
Having dodged the pajama thing, Dawn is fresh out of ideas for this one. Hearing Xander's voice pipe up, she sends up a silent prayer of thanks.
"Ah, it was – a nightmare – yeah, a nightmare. Bad one, scared me and I was right here." He says the last with a little discomfort. Spike arches a disbelieving brow his way but he ignores it.
Buffy turns back to Dawn, concerned. "Dawnie, I'm sorry. What was it about?"
Dawn's mind is more than blank and she figures that she has roughly twenty pairs of eyes pointing her way. She opens her mouth and words come out. "The Marshmallow Man."
Buffy does that wiggy thing she does with her forehead, "The Marshmallow Man?"
"Ah, you know the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters --- or was it the sequel? Anyway, definitely the Marshmallow Man."
Andrew jumps in, thankfully turning the eyes away from Dawn. "It was the original and the better of the two pictures that you are thinking of Dawn. Starring Harold Ramis, Dan Ackroyd and my favorite, Bill Murray. Ever see Caddyshack? Gotta' love that dancing Gopher."
Dawn could kiss him, that diatribe has the crowd breaking up. Even Buffy looks about ready to go. Still, she asks one more time, "The Marshmallow Man?"
And Dawn answers, "The Marshmallow Man".
Buffy scrunches her shoulders, "Well, OK. Try to get a little more rest. May as well, with school canceled and all. She gives Dawn a quick peck on the forehead and she is off to find her own bed.
As the crowd disperses, Spike stays back. "Ah, Dawnie – best be doing a bit better when dressing under the covers. Your top's buttoned up all wrong."
He turns to exit and thinks better of it. He turns around to Xander. Pointing a finger Xander's way, he speaks again. "You best better watch it, Pirate Jack. Soul or no soul, I'll kill you if you hurt her." Not waiting for a reply he leaves too.
Dawn and Xander have waited until the coast is clear before venturing out of her room. By tacit agreement, they immediately split up without so much as a second look – she to the kitchen, he out the door to buy extra sleeping bags for new arrivals.
It's well after the regular lunch rush, so Dawn happily assumes that she will have the kitchen to herself. Buffy and Faith have taken the potentials and gone out to train – god knows where – but luckily not here. Even Andrew and Pike aren't hanging out in the living room watching Port Charles. Lulled into this false sense of security, she allows herself a moment or two to ruminate over the morning's events. She opens the kitchen door and walks directly into Anya.
Anya looks to be her usual chipper self and if the sparkle in her eye is any indication, she is brimming with things better left unsaid. Why did Xander's ex have to be beautiful in a 1940's movie stair kind of way, have a thousand years' worth of experience and a big mouth? On the other hand – why wouldn't she? She is Dawn Summers – not exactly, the girl next door herself unless you're 'next door' happens to be the gate to HELL!
As soon as she takes in Anya in her flowery dress and red high heels – the Sushi pajamas, she's still sporting, make her want to just crawl in a hole – perferally a deep one.
"Dawn." Anya says in the forthright way she has. As if she's an alien with no idea of social skills rather than a retired vengeance demon. You would think after all that time seeing people at their worst, she would have picked up a little compassion.
Dawn responds with a weak smile and hopes she'll go away. Of course - not gonna happen. By the time she makes it to the fridge, Anya has closed the distance between them and when she turns, she is eye to eye with her.
"Excuse me", Dawn murmurs as she steps around her.
"Oh --- yes --- I'm sorry. I was in your way." Anya backs off a little but not as much as Dawn would like. While she's pouring her cereal, she wishes that Anya would click those red heels of hers three times and be gone. Again, no such luck.
On the other hand, other than violating her personal space – Anya's actually being surprisingly quiet. Dawn has this awful feeling that she's just waiting for her moment to pounce. As she sits down on a stool at the counter, she thinks to herself – OK – 3 – 2 – 1 – pounce. And yes, she nails it! The crowd goes wild!
Anya, posed directly opposite her, a bright smile gracing her cherry red lips, speaks "So, Dawn. How have you been?"
Dawn tries to ignore her as much as she can – maybe she'll go away? Dawn shrugs her shoulders, head down, inspecting her cereal. She can feel the tension growing. It's coming she knows – whatever wiggy thing she's going to say next!
When Anya tries again, she talks louder like maybe Dawn is deaf and that why she's not talking. "I hear that you and Xander have – have gotten pretty close lately. Am I correct?"
Dawn decides the it's time to face the music in some form or fashion. She looks at Anya and answers. "I don't know Anya, we've always been close. Xander's been there for Buffy and me through so much."
"But you're having sex with him, are you not?"
Dawn muses that Anya should have been a lawyer instead of a vengeance demon – or are they one in the same thing? Anyway, she figures that she best answer her before something else pops out of her mouth. Mouth full of cereal, she utters "Excuse me?"
Again, Anya speaks loudly, clearly enunciating each word very clearly as if Dawn rides the short bus for sure. "I said, you are having sex with him, are you not? Last night, I am sure that both of you smelled like my Mango Shower Gel and Xander never uses that – well, never used to use that – unless we --- well, you know. I gathered that you and he had showered together since you both smelled of it so strongly. I mean, well, it just makes sense. Last night, he said he took a shower. Neither of you mentioned anything about you taking one."
Before, she can go further, Dawn interrupts her. "OK, I took a shower over there too, OK? No big. It's just all these slayerettes – there's never enough hot water – so I asked if I could take a shower after he finished."
Dawn can tell that she has at least slowed Anya down. She gets at least three bites of cereal in this time before she starts up again. This time Anya lowers her voice and leans in a bit closer.
"I'm not saying this correctly. It's just --- I want you to know that I ---that I love him. I want him to be happy." She confesses this in a tone that Dawn has rarely heard from her. She sounds both young and vulnerable.
"You can do that, can't you Dawn? Make him happy? He wants a normal life with someone who is predictable --- steadfast. He's wants to come home to crying babies and change his oil every three thousand miles. He wants something so ordinary that it's extraordinary. Dawn, I've come to see that every time he looked at me he doubted me – he doubted himself – I was just too – just too much a part of what's not normal for him to really feel safe. But you, you can give him normal, can't you?"
Uncharacteristically, she takes one of Dawn's hands in her own. "Please take care of him, will you? He's got such a good heart. He is a good man. Give him the tooth fairy and the Christmas pageants. Please?" By the time she finishes, hot tears are quietly running down her face.
Dawn feels her own hand clutch Anya's back. Suddenly, they are equals sharing the most important thing in their lives. To the feel of tears running down her own face, she says simply, "I will".
Anya pulls back smiling, bringing her hands up to her face. Feeling her tears, she gives a weak laugh. "Look, I'm all teary. I think I might be a real girl after all!" She teases gently as she wipes her face.
Dawn nods back, agreeing, "Yes, you are Anya, you are".
Xander is happy to see Buffy looking more confident, happier. Briefly, he thinks of Spike for some reason – no, won't go there. The ick-factor is just too high. Must just be the ax thingy, kind of phallic, but hey, whatever floats your boat.
So Buffy is sending him off to the sidelines with Dawn in tow. He always thought he'd go down with Buffinator. Hey, almost---. Last week, he wouldn't have taken this assignment without a fight or at least a sissy display of some sort. But now, he takes it on willingly. Dawn's gonna be pissed as hell but she's probably going to be alive.
"You want to what?" Dawn asks with not so much a suspicious voice as an incredulous one.
"I want to go out to the car a minute, maybe go for a drive. Come with?" Xander is already grabbing his keys.
Normally, Dawn would be up for any field trip he had in mind but considering the rest of the so-called army is getting ready for the final showdown, you would think that he would want to stick close rather than touring the all but abandoned Sunnydale. Hey by now, even the lesser demons have split. But whatever, she's willing.
When they get out to the car, he is still kind-of wiggy. She figures that's why he wants to get out for a minute. Usually, she hangs on his every word but for all his wigginess, she is preoccupied herself. Who wouldn't be? Though Buffy does seem better and Angel brought that gaudy necklace --- she tries not to get her hopes up too much. If anything she's learned it's usually darkest right before all hell breaks loose.
He had just been saying something, when suddenly his arm is around her and he is pushing something in front of her face --- hard.
That's it, he thinks. God, he hopes he didn't bruise her. OK, great he has now officially graduated from statutory rapist to kidnapper all in one week. Next week he'll shoot for America's Most Wanted. He'll be the new fugitive – the one-eyed man. Hey, rather one eye than one arm? Well maybe? 'Xander, snap out it man!' He thinks to himself. 'Drive!"
He and Buffy had talked it over and he's headed to LA. While Angel's spooky, old place is not the Ritz; it seemed like the safest bet considering everything. Plus, he knows the whole story so there won't be any need for any long drawn explanation. And if he needs to lock her up, God forbid, Buffy said something about a cage. He always thought Angel had a dark side. Well, understatement much but ---
He makes it to the highway before he turns to her just to double- check. She looks so still. He knew how much chloroform to use from his army-guy episode but he'd even had Will look it up on the Internet just to be sure. Yes, she's breathing steadily. She's drooling on herself too. The wet spot on her shirt makes him happier than he's been all night. Laughing softly, he knows she's going to be modified when she wakes up to find a big wet spot on her shirt.
He hopes against hope that maybe a little embarrassment might take the edge off. Probably not but a man can always hope.
He checks his watch; they've been on the road for well over an hour now. She's been stirring and mumbling for the past ten minutes or so. He's kind-of glad that he's driving. At least, he can look straight ahead while she screams at him. He figures there's a 50/50 chance that she'll give him the silent treatment – nay, not gonna happen.
Dawn has been trying to open her eyes for what seems like forever but it's like she's in the deepest sleep and she's having to work really hard to wake up. In the back of her mind, she knows that is something - something that is really important. What is it? She drifts in and out.
Finally, she drifts a little closer to consciousness and opens her eyes. OK, car --- looking up and around – OK, Xander.
The sight of Xander immediately reassures her and her first inclination is to give in to the urge to go back to sleep. But on the heels of this feeling, comes another, what did he do? It's all fuzzy; something's not good --- something about being in the car.
Like a cascade, it all comes back to her in an instant. Like being used to your Snoopy nightlight and somebody comes in and flips on the big light over your head. Boom.
She struggles to sit up straight and talk. It's like her brain woke up but not her mouth. Try, Dawn, try.
He finally notices she's awake. He's talking again. Now it is hard to follow him because she's working so hard to wake up and make her body work.
Chloroform? Buffy? Leaving?
It's clear in a second what she must do. And hey, all's fair in love and war and well, this is both. She slides her hand down to her pocket in her jeans. It's still there, her shock-the-bad-guy doo-hickey that Xander actually bought her last Christmas. He spent some time teaching her how to use it. It has markings on it so that you can operate it in the dark. 'I mean, how many big bads accost teenage girls in board daylight' he said. Looking over at him, she thinks, 'This one sure didn't!'
She unbuckles her seat belt and then carefully pushes the button to start it up. She's going to have to move fast. The road is empty so that's good. She's got 60 seconds before it's charged. She watches the digital numbers on the clock. OK, one minute.
She moves fast. He's out. Lucky for her that he has long legs, the seat is so far back that she can slide right into his lap and grab the wheel. With one hand, she reaches down and unbuckles his seat belt and with her body weight moves to the side and then pushes him into the passenger seat. His top part falls on over, the bottom is harder but finally she manages.
For a minute, she worries that he's going to be sore. Then she worries that he isn't buckled in. Finally, she figures he's been in worse situations than riding without a seatbelt. Plus, he deserves to be sore. REALLY SORE.
With that, she settles into driving home just as she notices that the left side of her shirt is all wet.
The first thing that strikes Xander when he comes on is that his head is pounding. The second thing is that he underestimated her. He should have known better.
"Don't suppose you've got any Advil on you?"
"Nope, don't suppose I would. Headache?" She asks sweetly.
He answers just as sweetly, "Just a tad".
She doesn't seem eager to talk. Women! Do they have some book that tells them all these things? No. 55 – silence is deadly – try it---
Finally he gives, "So, guess I don't need to guess where we're headed."
"Nope". Again, his newfound love answers so sweetly that he is getting cavities just listening to her.
Dawn reaches down and flips on the CD Player. One of her CD's is still in from her taking her to school last fall. Alannis Morrisette's Jagged Little Pill.
Great, Xander thinks, No. 56 – play man-hater music after shocking your man with a tazar gun.
Here goes. This is the big finish. I really didn't plan it out, it just sort of happened by itself. Now that it's done, I wonder a bit about my direction with the Key. I have tried to keep this fic grounded in semi-reality. Hopefully, you will enjoy it. I appreciate all of your comments and good thoughts. I have kind-of left this open for a "what happens now?" fic. I don't know. Let me know what you think, if you think it can be done and if you would be interested. Obviously it would be 100% AU.
Buffy wishes that she could claim surprise when she turns the corner to go up the stairs and finds Dawn and Xander sitting on the steps rather woodenly. But, truth be told, she figured that her plan had about a 50/50 chance of working to begin with.
As soon as the sisters lock eyes, Xander quickly excuses himself, inching up the stairs.
Dawn doesn't flinch as she looks up at Buffy. Her unwavering gaze seems to take some of the air out of Buffy's sails. Buffy breaks off first and with a heavy sigh, takes Xander's recently vacated seat. Leaning against the wall, she faces Dawn again. This time, she has a wry smile on her face.
"Hey, it was worth a try." She says matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, I get it but I'm back. You don't have to do your sisterly duty again. I'm staying, 'K?"
Buffy reaches out and grasps her hand, conceding defeat, "'K ---". She gathers her breath for her next meaningful speech, when Dawn interrupts.
"Don't' --- don't say anything. Anything you say will sound like goodbye, so don't."
Buffy smiles again and squeezes her hand. Leaning heavily against the wall, she closes her eyes. She is at once energized and weary. Most of all, she is ready.
Dawn searches for something to say. Her mouth is open and words are coming out before she can really even think through her words. "So what about Spike?"
The question rouses Buffy and her eyes open, "Spike?"
"Well, with tomorrow and all I thought --- well, never mind."
Buffy releases her hand and stands. "No, you're right. I'm going to go, umm, to talk to him, I mean." Buffy searches her head for a better explanation for herself and for Dawn. "Battle plans and all ---." Upon hearing her lame comment aloud, Buffy smiles, realizing that neither of them believe it.
Dawns smiles back. "Yeah, battle plans --- have fun." She calls out as she stands and turns to head up the stairs. Buffy's voice stops her.
With a mixture of hesitancy and mischievousness, Buffy quips "And you - you and Xander. Battle plans too, I imagine?"
The question stops Dawn in her tracks. She knows. Buffy knows. And she's OK. She's really OK. Dawn accepts the gift as gracefully as she can. Now is not the time for sisterly talks, they are both heading off to the ones they love. This new kinship warms them both more than either would have imagined.
Their eyes met a final time, each on a new footing. Dawn smiles, her eyes misting, "Yeah, battle plans, here, definitely."
"Well, have fun." Buffy says, mimicking Dawn's earlier words.
"You too." Dawn says bounding up the stairs in search of Xander.
Dawn walks into her room to find that Xander has lit a few candles that were left over from the last time the power went out. Some soft, Celtic-sounding music is playing – so obviously Willow's with its witchy-sound. At some point, he has even managed to change the sheets. Soft white cotton is turned down on the bed, replacing her familiar Hello Kitty ones. Some of Willow's incense is burning somewhere, scenting the room with lavender and sage.
Her heart beats uncomfortably as she takes in his obvious efforts. She is suddenly unsure how to handle the attention. She has adored him for so long and since they have become involved – she has firmly been in the driver's seat. He has allowed her to call the shots. And now, she feels a little out of her element. She should have guessed that this would happen at some point. That Xander would heal to a greater degree inside and out and become the less vulnerable party in this relationship.
She briefly wonders if she would have ever had the courage to initiate their relationship if it hadn't been for his injury. She stifles this train of thought feeling guilty that something so terrible could bring her something so cherished. She is too practical to dwell on fate too much. She is here, he is here – somewhere and he loves her. The rest will come.
But first she has to navigate this night and then tomorrow somehow. If they can get through tomorrow, they will be home free. She sends up a silent prayer that things will turn out for the good tomorrow and turns her thoughts to finding Xander.
She jumps when he enters the bedroom behind her.
"Opps, sorry. I was just ah, doing the eye stuff. Figured it wouldn't be too sexy to clean a wound and then well, you know…" He laughs a little self consciously.
Awkwardly, they both look down like two people on a blind date.
"Ahh, do you like the room? I mean, believe or not Willow did most of it. She said that after she finished her mo-jo for tomorrow, she had some kind of inkling that we'd be back."
Looking around again, Dawn nods, "It's nice".
Xander catches something in her voice, "A little too much, huh?"
"Well yeah, now that you mention it."
Suddenly all of the stresses and crises of day catch up with them and they find themselves laughing in each other's arms until tears begin to fall. Bracing away from each other by an inch or two, both have tears in their eyes.
"Oh God, crying again. Label me 'Mr. Masculinity'; no make that – 'Mr. One-eyed Masculinity'. Are you sure, you know what you're getting into?"
In all seriousness, Dawn answers. "Yes, I do. I want you. You're my hero." With that, she initiates a kiss.
The kiss turns from gentle to intense in seconds. Their earlier anger, the uncertainty of tomorrow – all of the energy they possess is poured into this kiss.
Xander is more sure of himself now, less worried over her innocence. His only focus is her, to devour her. She is both more and less than herself to him now. She is comfort. She is salvation. She is life. And he is simply a man. No longer an invalid, no longer a caregiver, a friend.
As man and woman, they tumble onto the cool, white sheets. Each rejoicing in the other. His touch is sure and firm. He undresses her quickly without asking permission over and over, her consent implicit. She moves her body to aid his quest and returns the favor as she undresses him. There is urgency to their movements, a tacit agreement to surge forward.
He rolls her under his weight, her body making a cradle for his own. There are no tentative touches or small whispers this time. He pushes into her relishing the friction her tight passage provides. His hands catch in hers, fingers clasping to the strong and steady rhythm he has begun.
In these first moments, she is satisfied to lie still as he moves. She keeps her eyes on his beloved face, fighting the urge to close them as intense feelings wash over her. She has never seen this look on his face before. It isn't a soft look at all but the fierceness of it kindles her blood like nothing else. It assures her that he sees her as a woman, his equal, his goal and not a child or a silly little girl. He is beautiful to her. The patch only signifying his sacrifice for everything that is good. His dark hair curling around his face as he looks at her as if he wishes to etch her into his mind.
With these thoughts running through her head, she begins to answer his demands with her own. Experimenting until she finds a movement that suits her. Every time they meet, the pressure building inside her increases and begins to throb. It's as if she is glowing with the energy she feel pulsating between them.
Looking into her vivid eyes, Xander realizes that little bursts of golden light seem to be swirling in her eyes. Somehow, the movements of these tiny lights draw him to her as nothing else ever has before. While there is a distant part of him that acknowledges that what is occurring between them is unusual, he is too captured by the moment to do anything but feel.
Xander's movements become even more forceful than before and Dawn tilts so that she can take him as deeply as she can. She must get closer, she must. She continues to look at his face, his eyes. She can't look away. It's as if his eyes are glowing. Every second or so, the chocolate brown twinkles with gold as if the friction they are causing is about to spark.
They rise toward each other as if they will somehow shed their skins and merge into one being. To an observer, if there were an observer, the two figures would seem to be glowing, first she then both of them. The glow increasing with every thrust.
Bright golden sparks begin to float between them as if bouncing from one being to the other and back. They begin to move even more furiously if possible. Keeping her in his sight, he raises up on his arms until he is on his knees in front of her as she lies on her back with her legs clasped around his waist. At the feel of this new pressure, she lets out a cry and she feels tremor after tremor begin. He reacts to the intimate feel of his body in hers and he too begins to explode over and over again.
As they arch together a final time, the golden glow encompasses them totally. They are awash with intense pleasure but more than that - they are one being in this moment. Something flows between them - this incredible golden energy - mixing and flowing until ever so slowly, it retreats in waves back into each body. The energy that returns on this tide carries the essence of the other in a way that no human word can fully explain. As if the emotional and physical tides have overwhelmed these mere mortals, they fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Dawn awakes to the morning light shining through the window. For all of Willow's preparations, she managed to leave the window shade up. Pragmatic as always, Dawn figures that she might as well get up since this might be her last chance ever.
As soon as she sits up, she is hit by the memory of her time with Xander. She turns to find him sleeping peacefully on his side, a smile curled on his lips. She thinks to herself that he finally looks healthy again - really healthy. His hair shines in the morning light and it's like his whole body is humming with waiting energy.
The mere thought of the word - energy – shakes her. She knows she's new at this but… she knows that what they shared last night was not normal – fantastic but not normal. It occurs to her that whatever is making Xander look so good – not that he doesn't always look good – might have something to do with last night.
"Xander, wake up!"
"Uh?" he murmurs and he turns away from her.
She shakes him a little, "I said wake up! This is important. Wake up."
He turns and sits up, stretching as he does. The sight of him all bare-chested and yummy in her bed is more than little distracting for her.
"Umm?" he utters as he cocks a dark brow her way.
"Xander, think - last night, when we were together. Was it like all glowy and supernatural for awhile?"
"I'd like to think that it's always all super." He replies with a smile.
He is not helping matters at all. "No, seriously, last night, think – it was – it was like for a minute, I was inside of you. Part of you – that glowy part." She rolls of eyes in frustration trying to put what she felt into words.
His smile fades and it's obvious that he's remembering too. It's like his remembering, is making her memory of last night stronger too. Their eyes meet of their own accord and suddenly the feeling, the hum – is back a little. Neither try to draw away as the energy pulls them into the vortex for a second time.
For some undefined reason, they raise their palms to the other and touch. Immediately a shock runs through both of them and the glow returns in full. While last night, they were together physically, this melding; this joining is on another plane all together. The tides of energy sweep through them again. Dawn's head comes forward to lean on Xander's shoulder and he clasps her to her as they roll into a ball of warm, pulsating flesh on the bed.
How long it takes for them to come to consciousness is an unknown. They awake to find themselves twisted together in the sheets. Neither speaks. This second time was just as profound as the first but both were alert this time – at least for part of it.
Xander finally speaks, "I feel you, here and here." Gesturing to his heart and his head. "And when we touched, I felt you – maybe your soul, your spirit – run into me all at once and then leave again but it's as if part of you is still with me, in me."
He shakes his head before continuing, "It's changed me somehow. I feel different. Not like a 'grrr' different but maybe 'ah-ha' different?"
Dawn listens. She feels pretty much the same as usual, except for a part of Xander is anchored inside of her. It is a concrete part of him, not just a feeling or a sentiment but a part that she can almost touch. She closes her eyes and thinks.
"It's like knowing you know the answer to a question but you just can't think of it." Suddenly, an idea pops in her head, she waves her hand furiously. "Here, grab my hand."
Xander grins ruefully, whatever is going on, he is way too happy to get too worried. He knows intrinsically that this thing – this energy they have shared is good. "Whoa, I don't know if I'm up to another brain orgasm quite yet."
Looking more like Buffy than usual, she frowns at his joke.
"OK, OK, here." He says as he puts out his hand to her."
She takes it and closes her eyes. Immediately, they are both pulled under to wherever she is going. It's like they are looking together into her mind's eye. Just as suddenly as they are pulled in and they rush back out – dizzy but not unconscious.
They utter the words together - "The Key". Both are clear as to the meaning and implication of the words. The golden energy they have released is the Key. They have somehow unleashed the Key and it now flows through and in both of them equally. As far as the Key is concerned, they are truly one being now and forever.
Dawn smiles her crooked little girl smile, "So, guess you're stuck with me, huh?"
He smiles back, glad to have the honor of sharing her destiny in such an intimate way. "Guess so. But, if Glory comes back, can we just move to Montana or something?" He says with a wink.
Downstairs, everybody is readying to go. Most have slept through as much of the day as they could – with whoever gave them the most comfort. Dawn and Xander have decided not to tell anyone about what has taken place between them until after. There really isn't any evidence to indicate that anything would be impacted one way or the other if they tried to explain the whole thing right now. Anyway, there was a real possibility that it would just distract people. And other than feeling even more connected to the other, there really isn't anything else different – no superpowers – just a cosmic marriage of sorts that they haven't expected.
Holding hands, they leave to face the next bend in the road – together.