BtVS: I Am The Puzzle (Willow/Dawn)
Written for the sixth round of femslash_minis: Willow. I was assigned kyrafic, who requested Willow/Dawn, with magic, without schmoop.
Title: I Am The Puzzle
Author: voleuse
Fandom: BtVS
Ship: Willow/Dawn
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Lips, hands, eyes that never specialized in a single love.
Notes: Way post-Chosen
Dawn learns all her lessons like a good little Watcher-to-be.
She can identify every common form of demon, and dozens of less common ones. She can parse in seventeen different languages. She can teach five different ways to break a chokehold, and three ways to behead an opponent.
When she tries to learn a few more spells, however, her instructors grow silent and stern.
"Come on," she pleads. "It's not like I haven't had lots of practice."
But one by one, they turn her from their doors.
*
"I don't get it," she complains to Xander via telephone. "I've done spells before."
"I don't know, Dawn." Xander's voice overlaid with static; he's currently seeking Slayers in Venezuela. "You're practically magic yourself."
That's when it clicks, and Dawn stares at nothing for a long moment.
"I have to call you back," she finally says. "Love you, Xand."
"Okay," he says. "Love you, too."
The dialtone drones in her ear for seventy-six seconds before she realizes she needs to hang up.
*
She arrives on Willow's porch three days and seven espressos later.
"I need you to teach me magic," Dawn announces when Willow opens the door.
Willow blinks. "Good to see you to, Dawn."
"Sorry." Dawn smiles and takes a moment to assess.
It's been more than two years since she's seen Willow in person, she realizes. She looks less harried than Dawn remembers. Her hair is short again, tousled and wet. She smells like blackberries and tea.
"You look good," Dawn says, and feels surprised at how much she means it.
Willow smiles. "You sound surprised."
"Sorry." Dawn gathers herself, rolls her eyes. She looks past Willow into the empty hallway. "No Slayers on site?"
"No." Willow's smile fades. "Not since Kennedy--"
"Right." Dawn winces. "Sorry. Again."
They stand there, awkward, until Dawn's arms start to hurt, curled around her luggage.
Willow reaches out and touches Dawn's wrist.
"Come in." She grabs Dawn's carry-on bag. "You said something about magic?"
*
They start with a simple locator spell, which is, Dawn jokes, so cliché.
Willow ignores the jibe, spreads a blanket on the wooden floor, and sits cross-legged at one end. She holds out her hands, wiggles her fingers.
"Fine," Dawn says. She clasps Willow's hands and settles on the blanket across from her. "What are we locating?"
"Were you not paying attention?" Willow gripes. "Kitten. Upstairs. Sleeping."
"What's the point of doing the spell, then?"
Willow raises an eyebrow.
"Fine," Dawn repeats. "Homing device activate!"
Willow giggles. "I really need to call Xander." Then she shakes her head, grows solemn. "Dawn, you've never done a spell with someone before, have you?"
Dawn shakes her head. "Only solo." Willow's fingers twitch between hers, and Dawn tightens her grip, slightly.
"It's..." Willow stops, starts to say something. Stops, then tries again. "Try to brace yourself, okay?"
Dawn starts to ask how she's supposed to do that, but Willow's started muttering something, and their handhold tightens, and then everything in the universe shifts.
She can't breathe, or maybe she's breathing too much, and the edges of her body feel smudged and blurry.
She can hear Willow's voice, murmurs striking against her throat, and her vision spirals up and up.
There, she thinks, the kitten is there.
Then it all shatters, and she slams back into her body.
She's panting for breath, and sweat trickles down her back, between her breasts. Willow's hands are slippery in hers, and Dawn can feel every millimeter of skin.
She swallows, tries to dry her throat, and manages to look Willow in the eye.
"Is it always like that?" she asks.
Willow nods shakily. "Sometimes it's better."
Dawn wants to ask her to elaborate, but doesn't.
*
That night, Dawn lies in her narrow bed and squirms.
She can't stop thinking of the spell. The way the boundaries of her body shifted and spread, until they overlapped with Willow's. With everything.
Her heart pounds steadily against her ribs, and there's an echoing throb lower down.
As she twists under the sheets, the cotton chafes against sensitized skin, and she arches her back to prolong the feeling.
She eases a hand beneath the waistband of her panties, and swallows her moan when she comes.
*
The next morning, Dawn watches Willow make tea, and wonders what she did in the middle of the night.
When Willow pauses next to the table, Dawn catches her wrist, and feels her skin warm to the touch.
"Hey," she says, her voice quiet and low. "It's not always like that, is it?"
Willow sets down her teacup. Dawn captures her other wrist.
"Is it?" Dawn asks again.
Willow doesn't look at her. "Sometimes."
"Oh." Dawn releases her wrists, and Willow takes half a step back. "So."
"So." Willow picks up her cup.
Dawn clears her throat. "When can we do it again?"
Willow smiles.
###
A/N: Title and summary adapted from Christina Davis' The Poet Donates her Body to Science. Link courtesy of breathe_poetry.
Originally linked here and here.
Nominated at
.
And winner of:
!
Title: I Am The Puzzle
Author: voleuse
Fandom: BtVS
Ship: Willow/Dawn
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Lips, hands, eyes that never specialized in a single love.
Notes: Way post-Chosen
Dawn learns all her lessons like a good little Watcher-to-be.
She can identify every common form of demon, and dozens of less common ones. She can parse in seventeen different languages. She can teach five different ways to break a chokehold, and three ways to behead an opponent.
When she tries to learn a few more spells, however, her instructors grow silent and stern.
"Come on," she pleads. "It's not like I haven't had lots of practice."
But one by one, they turn her from their doors.
*
"I don't get it," she complains to Xander via telephone. "I've done spells before."
"I don't know, Dawn." Xander's voice overlaid with static; he's currently seeking Slayers in Venezuela. "You're practically magic yourself."
That's when it clicks, and Dawn stares at nothing for a long moment.
"I have to call you back," she finally says. "Love you, Xand."
"Okay," he says. "Love you, too."
The dialtone drones in her ear for seventy-six seconds before she realizes she needs to hang up.
*
She arrives on Willow's porch three days and seven espressos later.
"I need you to teach me magic," Dawn announces when Willow opens the door.
Willow blinks. "Good to see you to, Dawn."
"Sorry." Dawn smiles and takes a moment to assess.
It's been more than two years since she's seen Willow in person, she realizes. She looks less harried than Dawn remembers. Her hair is short again, tousled and wet. She smells like blackberries and tea.
"You look good," Dawn says, and feels surprised at how much she means it.
Willow smiles. "You sound surprised."
"Sorry." Dawn gathers herself, rolls her eyes. She looks past Willow into the empty hallway. "No Slayers on site?"
"No." Willow's smile fades. "Not since Kennedy--"
"Right." Dawn winces. "Sorry. Again."
They stand there, awkward, until Dawn's arms start to hurt, curled around her luggage.
Willow reaches out and touches Dawn's wrist.
"Come in." She grabs Dawn's carry-on bag. "You said something about magic?"
*
They start with a simple locator spell, which is, Dawn jokes, so cliché.
Willow ignores the jibe, spreads a blanket on the wooden floor, and sits cross-legged at one end. She holds out her hands, wiggles her fingers.
"Fine," Dawn says. She clasps Willow's hands and settles on the blanket across from her. "What are we locating?"
"Were you not paying attention?" Willow gripes. "Kitten. Upstairs. Sleeping."
"What's the point of doing the spell, then?"
Willow raises an eyebrow.
"Fine," Dawn repeats. "Homing device activate!"
Willow giggles. "I really need to call Xander." Then she shakes her head, grows solemn. "Dawn, you've never done a spell with someone before, have you?"
Dawn shakes her head. "Only solo." Willow's fingers twitch between hers, and Dawn tightens her grip, slightly.
"It's..." Willow stops, starts to say something. Stops, then tries again. "Try to brace yourself, okay?"
Dawn starts to ask how she's supposed to do that, but Willow's started muttering something, and their handhold tightens, and then everything in the universe shifts.
She can't breathe, or maybe she's breathing too much, and the edges of her body feel smudged and blurry.
She can hear Willow's voice, murmurs striking against her throat, and her vision spirals up and up.
There, she thinks, the kitten is there.
Then it all shatters, and she slams back into her body.
She's panting for breath, and sweat trickles down her back, between her breasts. Willow's hands are slippery in hers, and Dawn can feel every millimeter of skin.
She swallows, tries to dry her throat, and manages to look Willow in the eye.
"Is it always like that?" she asks.
Willow nods shakily. "Sometimes it's better."
Dawn wants to ask her to elaborate, but doesn't.
*
That night, Dawn lies in her narrow bed and squirms.
She can't stop thinking of the spell. The way the boundaries of her body shifted and spread, until they overlapped with Willow's. With everything.
Her heart pounds steadily against her ribs, and there's an echoing throb lower down.
As she twists under the sheets, the cotton chafes against sensitized skin, and she arches her back to prolong the feeling.
She eases a hand beneath the waistband of her panties, and swallows her moan when she comes.
*
The next morning, Dawn watches Willow make tea, and wonders what she did in the middle of the night.
When Willow pauses next to the table, Dawn catches her wrist, and feels her skin warm to the touch.
"Hey," she says, her voice quiet and low. "It's not always like that, is it?"
Willow sets down her teacup. Dawn captures her other wrist.
"Is it?" Dawn asks again.
Willow doesn't look at her. "Sometimes."
"Oh." Dawn releases her wrists, and Willow takes half a step back. "So."
"So." Willow picks up her cup.
Dawn clears her throat. "When can we do it again?"
Willow smiles.
###
A/N: Title and summary adapted from Christina Davis' The Poet Donates her Body to Science. Link courtesy of breathe_poetry.
Originally linked here and here.
Nominated at
.
And winner of:
!