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Don't Stretch

By Rach

Rating: PG
Summary: Dawn can’t sleep.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: Somewhere past First Date, before Dirty Girls. Doesn’t much matter where.
Feedback: Please!

~~**~~
Andrew stood in the middle of the room and looked around him. He liked to call it the Exposition Room because he’d lost count of the number of Buffy’s egotistical rally-the-troops speeches he’d sat through in there. But not now. Oh no, now he had the room all to himself, because absolutely everybody was someplace else. There wasn’t a single stray Potential lying around, because half of them had been sent off to Xander’s place and the rest were squished in the bedrooms upstairs.

He thought about putting the TV on, but that would detract from the wonderful, wonderful silence. Kicking his shoes into the centre of the room, he collapsed onto the couch and grinned.

“I’ll move them before everyone gets up,” he muttered to himself. “Cause otherwise someone’s just gonna trip over them and I’ll get the blame, even though it’s so not my fault because they should have looked where they were going.”

Standing again, he glanced up the stairs until he was satisfied nobody was coming, before ripping off his shirt and jeans and hurtling under the spare quilt in just his boxers before anyone had the chance to see him half naked.

Not that anyone would want to see him half naked, he added to himself. But he was still covering his bases.

A cough from the top of the stairs alerted him to the fact somebody was coming down. Pulling the covers up to his neck, he turned his head and grinned at Dawn.

“What are you doing up?”

She glared back up the stairs. “It’s too hot in my room. There are girls all over the floor, and in my bed. And they all breathe so loud, it’s driving me crazy!” She knelt down by the arm of the couch so that her head was level with his. “And I think I stepped on at least two of them on the way out.”

She stood up and stepped round the sofa, batting his feet until he pulled them to his chest, out of her way. As she settled herself beside him, he stared at her. He should be mad, Dawn had ruined his silence … but for some reason he wasn’t.

She noticed him staring at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied, looking away quickly.

Dawn continued looking over at him. He’d let the duvet drop a little without realising it, and she could see the top of his chest. Not bad.

He risked a glance at her out of the corner of his eye, staring upstairs again when he saw she was still looking. He drew the covers back up to his neck, suddenly feeling self-conscious again.

Dawn shivered. It hadn’t taken long for her body to lose the extra heat the thousands of people who’d taken over her room had generated. Andrew noticed and looked back over at her. “So are you coming under, or what?”

She smiled gratefully and slipped her legs under the quilt, making him jump as her cold feet connected with his legs. “Hey!”

She pulled her legs back towards herself. “Okay, won’t stretch,” she muttered.

“Your legs are too long,” he whined. He watched her a bit longer before continuing. “But you could come round this side so we’re both facing the same way. Then you could stretch.”

Dawn smiled and sat up, twisting round and stretching her legs out. Shuffling down a bit, she laid her head on Andrew’s chest. “Thanks, Andrew.”

“No problem,” he mumbled. “But, um – you’re squashing my arm.”

Dawn sighed and sat up again, lifting Andrew’s arm into the air before settling back down again. She let his arm go, and it landed on her back. After lying for a few minutes, unsure what to do, he took a breath and moved his arm so that it curled round her shoulders.

Another few minutes and he was absently rubbing his fingers up and down her arm as she dozed.

A thud from upstairs jolted her out of her sleep. “Sounds like Rhona and Vi are having another round of Sleep Idol,” Dawn yawned.

Andrew stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“American Idol. Fighting for a place in the bed …. Oh, never mind. I’m tired, you can’t expect my puns to actually work!”

She realised she was only inches from Andrew’s face now, and something seemed to be pulling her closer. She noticed Andrew’s right hand come to rest on her back, while the other was still stroking her arm. Dawn shivered again, although this time not through the cold.

Andrew was taken aback slightly as Dawn’s lips connected with his. She tasted like vanilla, which he assumed was lip gloss. He’d always wondered why girls wore lip gloss to bed … maybe it was an ‘every eventuality’ kinda deal.

He blinked and reality came crashing down around him. He was kissing Dawn. Dawn was kissing him. And he was just sitting there like a big loser.

He tightened his arms around her back and gently pushed his tongue into her mouth, which opened willingly. Following her lead, he hoped he was doing okay. He hadn’t had a whole lot of practise.

As Dawn pulled away, she smiled at the nervous look on his face. She laid her head back on his chest and curled up into him. His hand lay on the small of her back once again, and a smile spread across his face.

“Shouldn’t you go back to bed?”

She shook her head. “Amanda will have stolen all the covers by now.” She shot a glance at the stairs, as if Amanda could see her.

Andrew laughed, resting his chin on the top of her head. He remained silent until her breathing slowed and he knew she was asleep, and then he relaxed, drifting off himself, until -

“Dawn!” Buffy’s voice rang out. Dawn opened one eye and saw that it was daytime. The sun was up, and more importantly, so was everyone else. Buffy was staring at her impatiently. She glanced at Andrew, who was still fast asleep, and Dawn followed her gaze.

“Uh-oh.”

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