She got up, managing not to wake the Potentials who were sharing her bedroom and quietly made her way downstairs. It was early enough in the morning that everyone was long back from patrol and asleep. As she looked into the dining room, she saw that Willow was out for the count. She was uncomfortably draped across the table by her laptop, her head pillowed on her arms.
Dawn tiptoed past the sleeping woman and carefully opened the door to the basement. She made a point to step over the stair tread that squeaked and padded across to the bench that was laden with magical texts, her bare feet silent on the concrete floor.
It took her a while to find the book she was looking for, slowly flicking through tomes and setting them aside in piles until she found her target. Like the others, it was a large leather bound book, old enough to be of as much interest to book collectors as it was to those more interested in the arcane text.
Running a finger down the list of ingredients, some of them common household ingredients, most only if your household was home to a witch, it suddenly occurred to Dawn that she had absolutely no idea why she was standing there. She had no use for a charm that created a lock that could only be opened by nominated individuals.
Frowning as she tried to think why she was barefoot in the basement, she thought back to her dream. It was starting to dissipate, but the book in front of her jogged a few fragments loose.
She could recall that she'd been talking to Xander. There was sun and sand and it was very hot, but they were still sitting on the couch with the living room furniture around them. They were playing poker, but the cards were wrong. Some were Uno cards, some were Tarot and some belonged to an animal themed game of Snap she had gotten for her fifth birthday. Dawn kept thinking that the heat would be bad for the television.
Xander was talking about Anya again. How he loved her but didn't want to hurt her. Dawn was sure this was where the spell came in. Although staring at the book in front of her, she couldn't figure out how a lock was going to help Xander gain Anya's forgiveness. It had all seemed perfectly logical at the time.
Her shoulders slumped as reality started to bleed through the weirdness of post-dream insanity. She ran a finger over the page one last time, a half smile on her face and started at the soft voice in her ear.
"What do you need with a lock charm, Bit?"
Dawn closed the book with care and placed it with the others. The sound of Spike's voice, especially the tone, had shaken loose the rest of her dream. She could almost feel the phantom glide of his hands and lips on her skin. She felt a throb between her legs and blood rushed to her cheeks at the thought.
"I don't. It was just a silly dream."
"Must have been some dream."
Spike's voice was barely above a whisper. Dawn doubted she would have heard it at all if Spike hadn't been so close to her. She didn't understand how he could be so near and yet not be touching her.
She felt the throb again as Spike inhaled audibly, making a show of breathing in the scent she was sure he could have smelled from across the room. The remembered dream sensation of Spike's arms wrapped around her sent another wave of desire through her body.
Dawn was caught by her fight or flight impulse, not knowing whether to lean back against Spike or excuse herself and leave. She didn't think her legs were up to the task of getting her up the stairs and wondered if there was a way of dragging herself up by the handrail that could possibly pass as a graceful exit.
"Tell me about this dream."
While Dawn's brain was busy trying to think up a convincing lie that would get her out of the situation with a minimum of fuss, her heart had other ideas and before she realised what she was doing it, she found herself telling Spike about her dream. Everything about Xander, the desert and the book, but she stuttered to a stop when she got to the part where Spike made his appearance. Her chin dropped to her chest and her knuckles were white where she gripped the table.
Gentle hands on her shoulders turned her around. Her fingers slid away from the table with difficulty, as if she was being dragged from her only lifeline. A finger hooked under her chin until she finally met Spike's eyes. She noticed they were dark, almost fully dilated.
"And then what happened, love?"
Dawn found she couldn't look away. "You came up behind me and held me." She tried not to moan as Spike cupped her cheek in his hand. "Then you whispered things."
"What things?" His eyes followed the path his thumb traced across her cheek, fascinated with the way her skin felt.
"Intimate things," Dawn could barely say it with Spike touching her the way he was. Her cheeks were so hot she thought they may have become a light source in their own right. "You spoke to me like we were... intimate."
Spike raised an eyebrow to encourage her to continue, but Dawn had fallen into embarrassed silence again.
Shuffling her feet, Dawn's flight mechanism kicked in and she started to babble. "Anyway, it was just a dream and I should be getting back to bed." Like that was a fun prospect. She had little chance of getting back to sleep while sharing a room with a snorer, a talker and someone who fought the wall in their sleep. "Sorry to wake you, I'll go now." She skittered away from Spike and headed for the stairs without looking back.
"Dawn." She stopped, her hand on the railing, back still to the room. "You don't have to go."
And that's what undid her. Her heart sped up and the throbbing between her legs became a steady beat that was accompanied by a noticeable moistness. She turned, expecting to see Spike where she left him, but instead found herself swept into his arms and thoroughly kissed.
Picking Dawn up, Spike carried her back to his bed. He laid her down and tumbled in beside her, causing Dawn to smile nervously.
Spike cupped Dawn's cheek. "What this part of your dream?" He dropped a trail of kisses along her jawline and ran his tongue along her ear.
"Yes. No. I don't know." Dawn took Spike's hand and kissed his fingers. In her dream he'd whispered things to her, she couldn't recall what happened after that, but she was left with sensations and feelings. Feelings strong enough to drive her from her bed in search of something. When she looked into Spike's eyes, she realised that she'd found what she was looking for. "No," she said decisively. "This is better than any dream." She wove her fingers through Spike's hair and drew his lips to hers.
Kisses soon gave way to moans as Spike's hands and lips explored her body. Clever fingers roamed over her breasts, tickling her ribs before drawing down to her waist and sliding lower to remove her panties. A tongue swirled in her navel, then just when Dawn was expecting Spike to return for a kiss, he flashed her a grin and worked his way further down her body.
As Spike's tongue worked it's magic between her legs, Dawn gasped and arched off the bed as she exploded in pleasure.
She pulled Spike close and kissed him, tasting herself on his lips. Dawn revelled in his lean length along her body, his sweet kisses and dark, desire-filled looks. She whispered a sultry: "My turn." And changed the rules of the game.
With a wild grin, she swung her legs to flip herself over to straddle Spike's hips. Feeling power in her femininity when she made Spike groan as she rubbed her wetness against Spike's jeans clad crotch.
Their hands fought each other to undo Spike's jeans and push them down, allowing Dawn to apply slick friction directly to Spike's hard member. He hissed at the contact. She slid upwards, far enough to capture the head of his shaft in her folds and moved back and up, raising him with her.
Dawn slowly started to lower herself, feeling Spike slip inside her. She gradually increased the length of her strokes, getting her rhythm, as she learned that squeezing a certain internal muscle or twitching her hips slightly cause Spike to make interesting noises.
Thrusting a hand between their legs, Spike fingered Dawn's clitoris, creating the friction that gave her slow teasing ride a faster, more urgent cadence.
A strong hand on her hip held her at the bottom of her downstroke, as Spike called her name in a moan and pulsed inside her. The sensation sent Dawn over the edge and she arched back, grinding herself against Spike before collapsing on his chest.
Spike held her tightly, kissing her forehead and whispering endearments into her hair.
Dawn sighed happily. She was in the bed of the man of her, admittedly strange, dream and found that reality was even better than could have imagined. Snuggling into Spike, she pushed aside thoughts of explaining the situation to the others. For now she would have a night of peace away from a roomful of snoring Potentials. For now, that was more than enough.
leni_ba's cya_ficathon master list for tinpanalley — season 7, poker, forgiveness, smut
Many thanks to the luscious moonbeamsfanfic for volunteering as beta and coming up with the title.
Runner Up of the Round Seven Spike Threw The Heart Devoted To You Award
Runner Up of the Round Two Lie To Me The Key To Dimensions Award
Winner of the Round Three Kyerumption Best Shipper Fic Award