Dawn looked blearily at Buffy. "I don't think I can go to school today," she murmured. She coughed roughly. Then she gave Buffy a guilty look.
Buffy scrutinized her for a moment. Then she nodded. "I'll call in for you. I'm sorry, Dawnie. I should be taking better care of you."
"No!" Dawn said a little too clearly. "I mean . . . the world comes first, all right? In the end, I'm a lot less important than all those other people."
Buffy gave Dawn a small smile. "You're more important to me." She sighed and turned for the door. "But you're right. I can't stay with you today. I'm really sorry; I have to go into work, and the potentials are all going to be out with Willow. They needed a break, so I agreed to let them go shopping." She stopped reluctantly. "You're sure you're going to be okay?"
"I'll be fine once I get some rest," Dawn reassured her. "Maybe a little bit of orange juice could help."
"I would tell Andrew to fix you some food later on, but I'm afraid that he'll talk you to your death when he has to give it to you," Buffy said, lip curling in disgust.
Dawn shook her head. "Andrew doesn't bother me."
"I think you're the only one," Buffy informed Dawn. She opened the door. "See you tonight, Dawnie. Get some rest, and get better." She quietly shut the door behind her.
Dawn glanced at the nearby clock. She turned on her pillow to go back to sleep. A few minutes later she heard Buffy come back in. She was more like Mom than she knew: Buffy was doing the routine five minute check -- just to see if the "sick" child was really "sick" at all. Buffy shut the door again, this time for good.
Dawn closed her eyes tighter. She would fall asleep again. Then, by the time she awoke, all the potentials would be gone and she'd have the house to herself: just what she needed.
* * * * *
Downstairs, after Willow had taken all of those nice potential slayers to the mall, Andrew was staring blankly at the TV. He was glad Buffy had the Sci-Fi channel. He wasn't sure he could live very long without it. As a formerly evil hostage, he felt he deserved some recreational time. Especially because he spent so many hours with nothing to do. The only thing he was actually good at was cooking, and even then nobody was grateful for it. The only time they noticed him was when he was being "annoying".
Andrew sighed heavily and shifted on the couch. He wasn't supposed to care. At one point, he had hated the Slayer and her Slayerettes. Well . . . Maybe he didn't hate them, but he was supposed to have hated them. And now all he wanted was for them to like him. He tried really hard, too.
Commercials began to play, and Andrew got even more bored. It was another hour before The Bold and the Beautiful came on, and he had all that time to kill. He didn't know if he really wanted to watch it though. The thought of Ridge and Bridgett getting together was nauseating. Couldn't people see that Ridge and Brooke belonged together? He shook his head sadly. He was even going to begin on the Macy/Thorne issue.
Andrew stood up and turned the TV off. He went into the kitchen and poured some orange juice into the best cup in the house, a cute one with adoring smiley faces all over it. Then he put on his apron and pulled out a carton of eggs. He started fixing eggs sunny side up. That was the way Dawn liked them. He remembered because she had said that when her eggs were sunny, it made her sunny, too. Andrew smiled slightly. Maybe he wasn't at a total loss. It seemed like Dawn liked him. At least.
Andrew was finished in no time. He buttered some toast quickly and put it all on a tray. He started to go upstairs with the tray. Halfway there he realized that if Dawn was sick, she might like some soup instead. "Sith," he cursed to himself. Then he felt bad. He didn't like using bad words. Not even Jedi-universe bad words.
Andrew started to knock on Dawn's door, but then he remembered that she might be asleep. He didn't want to wake her up if she was asleep, so he quietly turned the doorknob. He was glad Dawn's door didn't squeak.
The sight that met Andrew's eyes made his jaw drop. He dropped the tray on the floor, making a loud clanking sound that immediately got Dawn's attention.
Dawn shrieked just as Andrew moved to shut the door quickly. When it was closed, he leaned against the wall beside her door. His eyes were as wide as saucers, and his breathing was shallow.
He'd just seen something he'd only before seen pictures of: a naked girl. Dawn had been standing in front of her full length mirror, surveying her body in the way that all teenage girls do. She was probably killing herself with low self-esteem.
Andrew tried to stop the image from flashing through his mind. This was Dawn! Buffy's kid sister! He wouldn't even think about what the Scoobies would do if they found out he'd seen Dawn naked.
It was no use though -- the image was burned in his brain.
Andrew calmed himself down and quietly knocked on the door again. "Dawn? Can I come in? Or just, you know, stand out here and talk to you through the door?"
Dawn opened the door slowly. Andrew noticed that she had used the time since he'd shut the door to get dressed. He was angry with himself for being disappointed.
Dawn grabbed Andrew's hand and dragged him into the room. She surveyed the hallway quickly, just in case someone was lurking there who might overhear her talking to Andrew. She knew Spike was still home, and she worried that he might wake up and come upstairs because of her earlier screaming. She shut the door and locked it.
"Look, I didn't mean to walk in on you," Andrew started in quickly. "I didn't even want to see you . . . All naked and whatnot. I just was bringing you food. As you can see. I'm sorry. Please don't tell anyone. I don't want Buffy to try to kill me again."
Dawn stared at him. "Buffy tried to kill you?"
"Well, not really tried. It was all a ploy to get me to cry." Andrew resisted the urge to tell her it didn't work, that he was a manly man and that nothing made him cry. He had a feeling that would make him appear even more stupid. "Please don't tell anyone," he pleaded. Great, he thought, you sound really manly now.
"I won't," Dawn said quickly. "I would get embarrassed too, you know. Plus in a whole lot of trouble. Geez, I'm only sixteen. Do you know what Buffy would do to me?" She grinned. "Not so bad as imagining what Xander would do to you."
Andrew's eyes widened even more.
"Relax. I'm not telling on you."
"Good. I think I'll go now," Andrew blurted out. He tried to get to the door, but Dawn was in his way. He was going to do everything he could to avoid her.
"Okay," Dawn said. She blushed. "Could you tell me something first?"
"Anything," Andrew promised; he owed her that much. His eyes kept looking nervously between her and the door. He really wanted to get out of there.
"HowdidIlook?" Dawn asked, words blurring together.
"Oh, um . . ." Andrew felt his cheeks getting really hot. He hadn't been expecting her to ask that. "I don't, um . . . I mean, I've never really . . . I've never really seen many girls before. Y'know?"
"Oh," Dawn said flatly, looking disappointed.
Andrew felt like he had to say something to get her to feel better. He didn't want to lower her self-image. "Uh . . . But, you know, it was . . . Uh . . . It was nice to look at."
"Really?" Dawn looked up brightly. She wasn't disgusted, as she should have been. "Would you say I was nice to look at in an 'oh, look at that girl over there, she's okay if I'm desperate' way, or a 'my god, that's the hottest girl I've ever seen in my life' kinda way?"
"I usually judge girls in the first one," Andrew admitted. Dawn's face fell again, and she moved to open the door. He felt like he had to comfort her again. "But you were really hot," he said quickly.
Dawn stopped moving for the door. She smiled at him. "Really?" she asked shyly.
"Oh, yeah," Andrew assured her. "I was, like, panting out there trying to get control of myself." Andrew cut himself short. Stupid thing to say! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
Dawn's eyebrows were raised. She looked torn between being pleased and disgusted. "Maybe you should go," she said eventually.
"Yeah, I think I'd better," Andrew said quickly. He rushed out of the door as soon as she had it unlocked. He ran all the way downstairs to sit in front of the TV.
He had come to the conclusion that this was the safest way to spend his afternoons.
* * * * *
Dawn woke up extra early about a week after the events on her sick day. She was surprised to learn that the sun wasn't up yet. She couldn't remember the last time she'd woken up this early. But she had a purpose in mind. She turned her alarm clock off before it could wake anyone up. She got out of bed and made it up neatly. Then she sat on the edge of her bed and waited.
In half an hour, she finally heard the sound of someone coming up the stairs. She sat as still as possible, as if even breathing might make the other person aware of her presence behind her door. A few minutes later she heard the faint sounds of the water turning on. Showtime!
Dawn snuck out of her room easily. There was no chance anyone else would be awake, and everyone upstairs slept too deeply to wake up from her faint footsteps, so she wasn't worried. She went to the bathroom door and tried the knob. It opened easily, and she sent a silent thanks to Xander for being too busy to come and fix the lock. Because all but two in the Summer household were females, nobody had had much of a problem with it.
Dawn stepped inside the door and shut it behind her. It made a slight creaking noise, but not loud enough to disturb the person in the shower. Dawn propped herself up onto the sink to sit and wait. She giggled to herself when she heard the other person begin humming. It sounded an awful lot like the theme song to The X-Files.
The water turned off a minute or two later. Dawn's muscles tensed in readiness. A hand appeared at the edge of the shower curtain. Dawn watched as it slowly, slowly began to open. She held her breath slightly. This was it: the end of her innocence. Not that she hadn't seen male testicles in health class at school. . But this was the first time she was going to see such things in real life.
After last week, when Andrew had walked in on her doing her daily observation of her body and its changes, she'd decided that he needed a little payback. She didn't blame him for walking in on her; she knew he hadn't meant to. And he'd complimented her too, so she wasn't even very angry with him. She just wanted the odds to be even.
The curtain finally was open all the way, and Andrew stood still for a moment. He was still unaware of her presence as he wrung the excess water out of his hair.
Dawn's eyes widened just as Andrew's had last week. She stared in surprise at his maleness. If that was what they looked like, those stupid illustrations from sixth grade weren't doing any justice at all. Dawn blushed at the thought, but she didn't look away. She felt something deep inside of her respond to the image, and she quite liked the feeling.
At that moment, however, Andrew discovered her. He was just stepping out of the shower when he happened to glance at the sink. He let out an unusual sound and grabbed a towel from the towel rack. He wrapped it around his waist quickly. "Dawn?" he asked in shock.
Dawn's eyes were still glued to where his penis was. She nodded to herself. "Pretty nice package you've got going there, Andrew," she complimented, deciding that he deserved one after the nice things he'd said to her last week.
Dawn noticed Andrew's torso muscles quiver slightly. He turned around sharply, his back to her. "What are you doing in here?" he hissed.
"I just thought I'd even the odds," Dawn said easily. "You saw me; I saw you. Everybody's happy."
"Happy, all right," Andrew muttered, his head bent down.
"Nothing!" Andrew said quickly. He turned his head to the side so that he could kind of see her. "Are you done spying on me now?"
"I guess so. I suppose I did get to see you longer than you saw me," Dawn admitted. She jumped off the counter. "Do you want me to go now?"
"Please," Andrew pleaded.
"All right. See you at breakfast," Dawn chirped. She opened the bathroom door again and went back to her room. A few minutes later she heard Andrew going back downstairs.
Dawn smiled to herself as she grabbed her toiletries. That had been educational. And fun, too. Don't forget fun. Now she could never be called a prude in school again. Oh, no. Because she had just seen a male's testicles. An older man's testicles. And he wasn't related to her either. Score one for Dawn Summers.
* * * * *
Andrew put his apron on and started cooking as soon as he got downstairs. Cooking was relaxing, so he got out the supplies to make a very complicated breakfast: French toast. He definitely needed to relax. He couldn't stop thinking of the way Dawn had been . . . Looking at him. All weird and stuff.
Andrew sighed and cracked an egg into a bowl. "Why did she do that?" he asked himself aloud. "I didn't even mean to walk in on her the other day."
"Are you prone to talking to yourself?"
Andrew jumped, knocking the bowl of raw egg all over his apron. He looked down at the ruffles and felt like he was going to cry. "What do you want, Spike?"
"I'm just coming up for a bit to eat," Spike said defensively. He went to the fridge to search around. "Who were you talking about, mate?"
"What?" Andrew asked, confused.
Spike stood up straight again, and package of blood in his hand. "You were talking about a girl, right?" he shook his head. "Trust me, Andrew; you're never going to understand them."
Andrew had a feeling that he wouldn't. Why would she wait for him in the bathroom? He knew she'd done it on purpose, too. She had to have known he was in there.
"Hey! Geek! Snap out of it."
Andrew straightened quickly, realizing that Spike had been talking to him. "You know, I really don't appreciate you calling me that."
"What? Geek?" Spike snorted as he emptied the blood packet in a mug and set it in the microwave. "I would have thought you were used to that by now."
"You know, I'm cool . . . And stuff," Andrew said lamely. "I mean, I have this cool black leather jacket. When I wear that I don't look like a geek."
"Look, mate," Spike said, leaning against the counter to face Andrew. "You're a geek. You just have to accept it. No jacket, no matter how great, could ever help you."
Andrew turned around to start cracking eggs again. He glanced at the recipe. "No French toast for you then, buddy," he mumbled.
"I don't want any French toast," Spike said. The microwave went off at that exact moment, as if to punctuate what he'd said. "I've got all I need to survive in this here mug."
"That's disgusting." Andrew gave Spike a sidelong glance. "Couldn't you, like . . . Eat that somewhere else or something? I really don't appreciate you gobbling down on blood in front of me. I have a weak stomach."
"I'm sure you do," Spike acknowledged.
"Morning, guys!" Dawn greeted brightly as she walked into the kitchen.
Andrew's spine stiffened immediately. This was way too embarrassing for him. "H-Hi, Dawn. Morning. I-I'm making French toast. Do you like French toast? It's probably not going to be the best in the world, not like the way my mom used to fix it. I've never really cooked French toast before."
"Mate, you can shut it now," Spike interrupted, rolling his eyes. He picked his mug up. "I guess I understand who you were rambling on about earlier." He went to the doorway in the kitchen, ruffling Dawn's hair affectionately as he passed her by. Andrew heard him ascending the stairs after a moment, leaving Dawn and him completely alone.
Andrew realized his hands were shaking as he began mixing the batter together. They started shaking even more when he felt Dawn come up behind him.
"Dawn, I think we really need to talk," Andrew said suddenly. He turned around quickly, crossing his arms across his chest protectively as he shrunk into himself. "I don't think you should just walk into the bathroom at any time. Especially when it's a male who-who's in there, you know? And-and you shouldn't . . . did you come in . . . this morning . . . Was that on purpose?" He stopped, looking at her tentatively.
"Uh-huh," Dawn said, nodding slowly.
"I thought so." Andrew sighed and steeled himself for what was next. "As your elder, I'm telling you that I want it to stop." And stop looking at me like that, too.
"Elder?" Dawn snorted. "Please. You're - what? - twenty?"
"Nineteen," Andrew admitted.
"Nineteen . . ." Dawn smiled slowly. Her eyes settled on his face. "You know, I've never really been kissed before. Not by a human, anyway."
Andrew tried to back up, but he realized the counter was in his way. "Dawn, don't do this," he begged. "I-I'm bad! I'm evil! I've killed. I killed my best friend, you know. Freely. A-and I . . . Please stop."
"Stop what?" Dawn asked, giggling slightly. Her eyes lowered. "Do you know what Buffy would do to you if she knew you were spying on me when I was dressing for school?"
Andrew's jaw dropped. "Spying? I thought we'd been over this. I didn't know you were going to be . . . I didn't do it on purpose!"
"Yes, but she won't know that, will she?" Dawn pointed out. "And when this comes to that, she'd believe me over you."
Andrew felt like crying again. "What do you want?" he asked weakly.
Dawn shrugged. "Not much. Just . . . I don't know. I want to do some exploring."
"Exploring?" Dread filled Andrew.
"Yeah, you know." Dawn shrugged again. "I mean, I am sixteen, right? Do you remember what it was like to be sixteen?"
Andrew gulped. He remembered all too well. The hormones, the magazines, the websites . . . Those insane crushes on girls who would never give him a second glance. He shook his head. No! He had to be strong. He had to tell Dawn no. "Dawn, I don't like where this is going."
"You don't?" Dawn asked softly. She took a step closer. "Are you saying that you haven't once thought of doing more than just looking at me?" She stepped closer again, barely an inch away from him. "You don't want to have me?"
Andrew was breathing hard, and his eyes were stinging. "Please, Dawn. Just leave me alone."
Dawn ignored him. She lifted her hand to press her palm against his chest. "Your heart is beating rather fast," she observed. "Are you sure you don't want this?"
Andrew wanted this. He wanted it very badly. But at the same time, he couldn't do it. He couldn't get away with it. And he had a sneaking suspicion that this had to be some type of elaborate prank. There was no way someone as beautiful as Dawn was coming onto him. Because he was struggling so hard with himself, he forgot to reply. Unfortunately - or fortunately - Dawn decided his silence meant acquiescence.
She leaned her face up towards his lips. She pressed hers against his before he knew what was happening. He stiffened, keeping his hands firmly on the counter behind him and being careful not to kiss her back. She didn't seem to mind. One hand wrapped around the back of his head, and she tilted her head to get to him better.
A girl is kissing you, and you're being a complete idiot, Andrew said to himself. That's when he lost control. He fumbled against her, putting a hand on the small of his back and pressing his lips against hers. He could feel her smiling against him; she knew she had won the argument.
"What's going on in here?"
Startled, Andrew pushed Dawn away from him abruptly. She stumbled and fell against the island, knocking over the loaf of bread he'd been about to use in French toast. He crossed his arms and looked defiantly at the intruder. Then he realized that it was Kennedy. Uh-oh. "K-Kennedy . . ."
Dawn's eyes were as wide as saucers. "You won't tell Willow, will you?"
Kennedy arched an eyebrow. "You do know that he's a geek, right? Way below your league."
Andrew went into his default useless information mode to deal with the embarrassment. "On the X-Files there was a creature called 'Geek' in the episode Humbug. The geek would eat anything. He ate a fish, a bug, oh, and the bad guy of the episode. You see, there was this guy with his twin brother connected to his stomach. And everybody thought--"
"You know what, if you can shut him up, I won't tell a soul," Kennedy said.
"Shut up, Andrew."
"Okay. Sorry, Dawn."
Kennedy got into the fridge. She pulled out a Diet Coke. "Is there some kind of relationship between you two I should know about?"
Andrew whirled to stare at Dawn. "We don't have a relationship. We're friends."
"So you're pursuing him?" Kennedy shook her head. "This house gets more screwed up everyday."
"I'm not pursuing him! He walked in on me-"
Andrew clasped a hand over Dawn's mouth. "Yes, we have a relationship," he said quickly, trying to shut Dawn up. "We . . . Er . . . Make out and stuff." He realized how that happened. "But we don't, like, have sex or anything."
"Not yet," Dawn mumbled so that he could hear.
Andrew felt his body respond to her suggestion, and he quickly stepped away from her. "Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes, Kennedy."
"I can take a hint." Kennedy left the room, muttering to herself.
"Don't tell anyone!" Dawn called out doubtfully.
"I don't think anyone will believe me."
Dawn sighed. She looked back at Andrew. "Next time we do that, let's find a more private place, huh?"
"Oh, Andrew, shut up," Dawn snapped. She closed the space between them. "I want you. Doesn't that flatter you at least a little?"
He didn't have anything to say to that.
"Are you going to protest anymore?"
"I just don't want to get caught," he sighed.
"We won't," Dawn said vehemently. Then she paused. "Wait. Does that mean you want to do this?"
"Of course! Beautiful girl . . . Propositioning me . . . That doesn't happen to me very often, Dawn."
Dawn arched an eyebrow playfully. "I'm a lover of the weird. And this is just about as weird as it gets."
* * * * *
It took another couple of days for Dawn to finally get Andrew alone for more than ten or fifteen minutes. Everyone happened to have something else to do. Spike was training with the Potentials, and Xander and Willow had tagged along. Buffy had offered to let Dawn come, but she'd declined with an excuse of homework. Buffy was too distracted to be suspicious of Dawn's excuse.
Everyone clambered out of the house, talking and laughing altogether in one undetermined noise. When they were gone, the silence seemed sacred.
Dawn was standing with her arms crossed over her chest. Her back was turned to Andrew, but she knew he was sitting on the couch. He was probably fidgeting. Dawn had wondered if Andrew was even remotely attracted to her before, but then she'd put two and two together. Andrew was afraid. Things were happening awfully fast, but Dawn didn't want to stop and think.
"We're alone," Dawn said, her voice filling the empty room.
Dawn turned around slowly. She locked eyes with him; neither of them moved. Dawn's mind was blank.
"Um . . . Hungry?" Andrew offered.
"Is that innuendo?"
"N-No. I wouldn't try innuendo. I'd probably suck at it," he admitted.
That perked Dawn's interest. "You never know until you try, right?"
"Okay." Andrew cleared his throat. "Hungry?" he asked again in an attempt to sound low and sexy.
Dawn burst out laughing. "I'm sorry," she gasped, clutching her sides. "You're not good at innuendo."
"Told you," Andrew muttered, but he couldn't hide the smile on his face. He even laughed a little.
Dawn moved to the couch and sat next to him. She looked up at him expectantly. "Do you want to kiss me now?"
Andrew looked at the door nervously. She decided he'd need to be pushed a little. She took his head in her hands and turned him back to face her. Then she kissed him forthrightly. The kiss, like the short one they'd shared the other day, was awkward.
Dawn pulled away. "This feels weird."
"I told you," he muttered.
"When I saw you . . ." She blushed and ducked her head. She continued again, her voice low and quiet: "When I saw you in the bathroom, I felt . . ."
There was a pause. "You felt . . ." Andrew's voice was hoarse.
"I felt something," she whispered. "Call it what you will. Hormones. Arousal. Sexual awakening."
"I like that last one. It implies that you never felt that way before."
"I hadn't." Dawn looked up. "I mean, I know about it, and I've been kissed before. I know what it feels like . . . Butterflies and whatnot. But I hadn't felt it that intensely before."
Andrew's breathing was shallow now. "Never?"
"Never." Dawn shrugged. "I just didn't get that feeling kissing you."
"You want me to strip for you?" Andrew asked mockingly, but his voice had a strange edge to it.
"No, no." Dawn bit her lip. "Just . . . What's the word . . . Ravage." She felt the word reverberate through her. "Ravage me when you kiss me. No awkwardness."
Andrew coughed slightly. "Um, Dawn. Ravage brings to mind a very intense sexual experience."
"That's what I want."
"But you're only sixteen."
Dawn knew that, but she also knew that she felt way beyond her years. Instead of replying, she leaned backwards onto the side of the couch. She laid her head on arm of it and looked up at him with doe eyes. "Feel free to begin ravaging from here on out."
Andrew gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He leaned forward slowly.
Dawn shook her head. "No slowness," she admonished. "Just fast and intense." She pulled him at her and leaned upwards to meet his mouth. For a split second they stood still, and Dawn feared that the awkwardness would persist. Then she pushed her tongue through his lips and explored his mouth. He moaned and made a sucking noise. Then he seemed to lose control.
That was what excited Dawn. The danger of lost control. His hands moved over her body as if he were a veteran. His lips moved against hers expertly. The kiss continued for a long time, but it left Dawn not a moment to focus on anything but him. Her heart was beating erratically, her stomach felt like there were a million bouncy balls in it, and she felt her panties dampen slightly.
This was it. Her first real sexual experience. She fervently kissed him, hanging on for dear life. His hand dragged up the curve of her hip and continued onwards. He wrapped his palm around one of her small breasts and clenched it into a fist. She squirmed underneath him and arched her back into his hand.
Andrew pulled away from her with ragged breathing. His pupils were dark orbs when they met hers, heavy-lidded with desire that reflected what she was feeling. "Is this better?" he whispered.
"Better," she repeated, the word trembling in her mouth. "Don't stop," she added.
Andrew shook his head. A look of concentration flitted over his features, and he leaned down to kiss her neck. She threw her head back in response. The hair on her head stood on end, and she suddenly knew a completely different meaning to the phrase "my nerves are on end."
"Feels . . . Good . . ." she whimpered.
He gasped against her neck. Then he pressed his hips into her pelvic bone. She felt his erection, and it awakened that powerful feminine feeling inside of her womb. She groaned and arched her hips up to meet him. This, in turn, made him stop to groan.
"This is too fast," Andrew said, but he continued to play with her breast.
Dawn shook her head. "You can't do that. Don't even try to back down again. We're here, and it's intense, and I never want to stop."
"I don't either."
"So it's agreed. We never stop. Just stay like this forever."
"Agreed." He took her mouth again; this time he used more force than before. Their hips had begun a game of thrashing, and Dawn really wanted to get closer to him.
Dawn reached down to the hem of his shirt and yanked it upwards. He ended the kiss to allow the shirt to come off. He started to kiss her again, but she put a finger over his lips to stop him. He was using his elbows to support himself above her, and began to move her fingers over his shoulders in a massage. He closed his eyes tightly, and she felt very powerful. Her hands continued to massage him, working slowly down until they reached the hem of his pants. Before she could do anything else, he wrapped a hand around her wrist. "Don't," he commanded in the most authorative tone she'd ever heard from him. She merely nodded and let him kiss her again.
Dawn liked the feel of his skin under her hands, and soon she had the desire to see what his naked chest would feel pressed against her equally naked chest. She pushed him backwards and sat up slightly. Their eyes locked together. She put a hand to her shirt and began to slide out of her shirt. Andrew's eyes left hers to watch.
She had her shirt up to her neck when suddenly his hands covered hers. He gently pushed her hands back down to return the shirt to its rightful place. She was confused and gave him a look that said so.
"None of that, Dawn," he explained. He sat backwards on his knees, and she echoed his movements.
"I thought we agreed-"
"Dawn, you're sixteen."
"We've been over this." She felt anger rising.
"I'm all for the kissing part," he continued as if she hadn't interrupted, "but I can't do anything else."
"You didn't seem to feel that way a few minutes ago." She didn't want to go unheard. Andrew never made decisions, why was he starting now. "I want you. Does that affect you a little? We still have a while before-"
Andrew shook his head. "It affects me a lot, Dawn, but that doesn't mean I'm going to act on those emotions." He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't feel right about it."
"I'm not a child if you-"
"It's not that." Andrew paused. "We're doing this for all the wrong reasons. The world might end soon, I'm the only guy in the house, you're the only girl who'll look twice at me . . . These are not the circumstances with which to meet someone you want to . . . You know . . . Do it with."
"Do you believe in fate?"
"Do you love me?" he countered.
Dawn didn't, she knew. "What does love have to do with it?"
"Call me old-fashioned, but everything."
For some reason, this touched her. Dawn sighed resignedly. "I guess you're right," she admitted. "Things got too fast. But . . ." She looked up at him shyly. "I do have feelings for you - ones that are in the process of developing further. And . . . I'm attracted to you."
"Well. I never thought I'd hear that. Especially from someone who's hot." Andrew smiled slowly at her. "This can continue?"
"But we won't go too far."
"Not yet, at least."
Andrew started to lean towards her again. "Then there's no reason why shouldn't be making out right now."
"I agree," she murmured just before his lips touched hers again.
* * * * * * * * * *
AN: I just didn't feel right about them sleeping together. If you wanted that to happen, use your imagination and stop reading after she starts to take her shirt off. This actually began as a red-robin on my Dandrew message board. I had written about half of this, but I didn't like the way it was going. That was five months ago, and I re-read it to find that the story was good enough for me to try and finish. That will explain why the plotline from Bold and Beautiful is outdated. I hope you enjoyed it, and a sequel may be at bay.