So here's the deal, I had two cups of coffee around eight and now it's almost twelve but I CAN'T SLEEP! So I figured what the hell. I may as well write a fanfiction. I love the Dawn and Andrew pairing. The chemistry between the two was so thick it was almost a visible fog. Or at least I found. Some people question the way I see things but I say, if it makes for a good story than whatever. Here's the deal. I didn't read the comics of Buffy and I never watched Angel or any of that so I'm essentially basing this on my knowledge after watching 7 seasons. So it's set right after Sunnydale goes bye-bye at the end of season 7. Dawn's POV. Now, I do apologies if this sucks. As I said, it's late. It's not a stroke of genius. More like a doggie paddle of genius. Hope you enjoy though. Read and review.

Disclaimer: Really now, would I have to be posting this on fanfiction if I were the creator and this crap belonged to me? Common sense folks, you can manage that, right?

We checked into a motel somewhere in Nevada. Some little place called Searchlight or something. I was really tired so I didn't really care much about the name of the village we stayed in. I just cared that I had a bed to sleep in.

We'd spent the last two nights in the bus and it was beginning to smell fowl. I mean, I'd rather stink than be dead but if I had a choice, I'd be a little cleaner.

As we disembarked the bus, we crowded around Buffy who was ready to give marching orders. She was always in charge, but I didn't mind. If I were the one placing people, I'd be sleeping with Andrew and I'm not so sure that's such a good thing.

Andrew and I had gotten really close, since he was my sister's hostage and everything. I didn't understand most of what he said and there was no debating that he was a nerd, but we got along well. So well in fact that over the last couple of weeks, I've been kind of picturing some Dawn and Andrew kissing stuff and that's not so good. At least, I don't think it is. He's quite a bit older than me and did I mention quite a nerd? But he's sweet and he gets me in a way few people do. He's like Xander and me. He wasn't Chosen either. So he knows. I can tell him what I can't tell Buffy.

"Listen up," Buffy said, grabbing everyone's attention. "I talked to the manager and he said they have four rooms left; three with two double beds and one with a queen. Based on what I see fit, I've picked who gets what room. There will be no arguing, just happening. Is that fair?" she asked.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Good, than here's the deal. Kennedy, Vi, Rona and Willow; I want you in room one. Robin, Faith, Caridad and Chao-ahn get room number two. Giles and Xander, you'll be in charge of Colleen and Shannon in room three. Room tree also has a pullout couch so I'll be staying there as well. Dawn and Andrew will have to take the room with the queen," Buffy said. "That won't be a problem Dawnie, will it? I just assumed you could deal with him but if you can't…"

"No, I'm fine," I said, a little too eagerly. Still, my sister, in all her Slayer powers of observation, didn't notice a thing for what it really was. She was oblivious, as was Andrew. Or at least, I'm hoping Andrew's oblivious. I mean, I blush like a fool when he's around but he thinks it's because I'm shy and calls me a peach or says I'm adorable. That doesn't help with the blushing, but I don't think he knows. And I'd like to keep it that way.

"Great," Buffy replied. She then handed out the room key to the adult I charge, earning loud protests from Xander when she gave the key to Giles. I got our key and while Buffy tried to soothe Xander's ego, Andrew and I went over to our room.

It was… cozy to say the least. I don't know how I got the door open without hitting the bed. Judging by the smell, I'd say it used to be a supply cabinet.

"I'm afraid to ask where the washroom is," Andrew said at the same time I began having the same thought.

We both nervously walked over to the only other door in the room. Inside was a toilet, a sink and a stand up shower arranged like peas in a pod.

"Well this is snug," I chuckled. I looked over at Andrew who had this odd expression on his face

"What?" I asked him.

"I'm debating how much I actually have to shower versus the health risks to using this," he said, holding up a vile-looking towel between his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh my God," I gasped, looking at the thing. It was coated in stains from heaven only knows what and the ends were frayed. "I'm so not using that," I objected. "I'll just stand in here until I air-dry."

"Problem number two," Andrew said, gesturing to our bloodstained, dirt filled clothes. "With all this fleeing, we didn't get any new clothes. What are we supposed to change back into?"

"We could wash our clothing the best we can in the sink," I suggested.

"But what do we wear while we wait for them to dry? Because I am not using that towel and I doubt the bed sheets are any less questionable," he pointed out.

I began to flush insanely and couldn't believe the words I was about to let out of my mouth were actually said. "Well, it's not like we haven't been living together for the past little while. I guess in the meantime we wouldn't have to wear anything."

"Dawnie, I couldn't," Andrew said, gazing at me affectionately – good to note, I couldn't tell whether the affection was brotherly or something else entirely. "I couldn't violate your privacy like that."

"Than what do you propose we do, Mr. Ultranerd? We can't go shopping for new clothes in ones that are full of bloodstains and if we have no clean clothes, than we can't go shopping. Do you see? It's a vicious cycle," I explained.

"We could take turns," Andrew suggested. "While your stuff is being washed, you could wear my shirt and while my stuff is getting washed, I could use something of yours to cover up," he continued. "And I do have my sweater too."

"That's actually a good idea," I whined. "Why can't I think of these things?"

It was more of a rhetorical question, but he answered me anyway. "Because our minds are different and that's totally okay. I wouldn't change your mind for the world, Dawnie. It's one of my favourites by far."

"You really mean it?" I wondered.

"Of course," he replied, moving to stand in front of me. "You're my second favourite person, Doctor who only beating you by like this much," he continued, leaving a gap the size of a millimetre in between this thumb and forefinger. "Which by the way, is a compliment. You came out on top of a lot of other awesome sci-fi childhood icons."

"You're so sweet," I said. "And then you become a nerd again and I don't understand half of what you say, but you're still sweet."

"You're sweet too Dawn. I've never met anyone as mindboggling and you. You're the perfect combination of sophisticated and goofy. And I'd like to think that I'm the luckiest guy in the world. Because I'm with you."


I'm the luckiest guy in the world because I'm with you…

Argh, I downright hate guys sometimes. What is that supposed to mean? Does that mean he likes me too or is he just talking about being my friend? When did men get so confusing anyway? I don't like it at all.

"There Dawn," Andrew said. I was in the shower – don't worry, the glass is clouded – and he was standing over the sink trying to get the gunk off my clothes. Apparently, he'd somewhat managed. "I'll leave my shirt on the toilet tank."

"Thanks Andrew," I replied.

I spent another few minutes getting as many knots as I could out of my hair and detoxifying my grimed-up skin. When I was done and more or less dry, I shoved on Andrew's shirt and walked into out room/closet.

I nearly bumped into him coming out. He was standing right beside the door (or was it right beside the bed? When you stand here you're right beside everything.)

"Sorry," I exclaimed. "I didn't hurt you did I?"

"No, that okay," he said, shooting me an appreciative glance (appreciative of what? That I was half-naked and in his shirt or that his plan had seemed to work or maybe something else?)

"I think I'm gonna take a shower and just get back into these clothes," he said. "It'd be a shame to get into bed all dirty with you after you just got washed up," he said innocently, eyeing me again. I don't think he realized how wrong that had just sounded. Or maybe he did and he wanted me to play along. Maybe he thought something would happen. Did he want something to happen? I mean, at first I thought this was just a silly little unrequited crush but maybe he likes me too. But how do I know that if he keeps being hard and not saying anything? Unless he's waiting for me to say something. Oh God, I hate this.

Before thinking much as to what I was doing, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. Nothing super intense or anything but enough to get my point across.

I stumbled back and hit my shins on the bed, knocking me down to a sitting position. I bounced a little on impact, sending my wet hair bouncing.

Andrew remained stunned for but a few seconds before leaning down to kiss me in return. Yes! Dawn: 1 Head Games: 0.

A few more kisses and then Andrew mumbled against my lips, "but I really do have to shower now."

"Okay," I replied and let him stride off towards the bathroom.

"Oh and Dawn," he said, turning to look at me. "I'll let you use my boxers too. Cause with you I'm bad at the self-restraint and no offense but, if I would do anything, or you know…" he mumbled sheepishly before admitting, "Your sister scares me."