NOTE: This chapter is rated FR15

Chapter 23

Same disclaimer applies. See above chapter for details.

Sorry it's been so long since an update, there have been lots of things keeping me busy, including a hellish Winter Storm season. Updates should be more frequent now.

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Sometimes, Dawn didn’t know whether it would be better to simply go with the flow, or to stop what was destined to be a train-wreck in the making. She enjoyed hot guys fighting as much as the next girl, but one of the hot guys being Xander tended to make the entire situation slightly surreal and even more unpleasant.

It wasn’t that she didn’t think he could win—in fact, in all the years she’d known Xander, she’d seen him win some impossible fights because his opponent had underestimated him—but she knew exactly what it would take out of him to win. He hadn’t been the same since Sunnydale, and asking him to physically fight the one guy he seemed to be crushing on was just wrong.

Which was why she was standing in the middle of the bar, in between the two men that had been eyeing each other all evening, contemplating exactly what it would take to distract them from their eye-fucking/fighting, and debating whether it was worth a public indecency charge that was sure to follow. Sighing, she signaled Rona with a quirk of her lip, knowing that if Buffy found out a slayer had been in the vicinity of her own “virginal” sister flashing half-a-dozen people, there would not only be hell to pay, but quite possibly a pound-and-a-half of flesh. She wouldn’t do that to Rona.

Or, to be more precise, she didn’t want Rona to have to lie for her. Not again—there’d been enough lies lately, and somehow Dawn knew that after the previous evening the lies were going to be dying a quick and unpleasant death. Mostly unpleasant, with a side order of “fast” and “harsh”, with a possible “unbelievable” served on the side at breakfast the morning after, when they’d had a second to actually process the events of the previous evening.

Xander brought her out of her somewhat incoherent daydream by stepping forward, accidentally jostling her enough to allow her to remember her plan. Seconds later the entire bar was treated to the sight of her bra, complete with Victoria’s Secret logo in the corner.

Xander stared for half-a-second before he shoved her shirt down and hissed, angrily: “are you trying to get me killed? If Buffy knew I’d seen your breasts there wouldn’t be any more little Xander. There might not be a big Xander, either, depending on her mood.”

Dawn snorted. “Please, if Buffy knew you’d seen my bra, she’d hand you a beer and then the two of you would spend an entire evening reminiscing about ‘little Dawnie, and how fast she’s grown up’”.

Xander sighed: “okay, so yes, there has been a little reminiscing, but still! Dawn breasts are not what I want to see, okay?”

“Fine.” Dawn looked around the somewhat empty bar and smiled. “Besides, it totally distracted you! No more fighting, or anything!”

Xander pursed his lips: “I give you a 5 for your plan, a 9 for execution, and a 10 for deviousness. We have taught you well.”

“Yeah, well, I had to learn something in high school.”

“Are you saying it wasn’t the Buffmaster and I that taught you your evasion skills? I was quite the distracter in Sunnydale, I’ll have you know.”

Don chose this moment to interrupt. “Buffy—um, she’s like Rona, right?” He pointed at the African-American girl with interest written all over his face. “So, Dawn’s sister is a slayer, and that’s why she’s so over protective, right?” he continued. “That makes so much sense!”

“Glad to sort everything out for you,” Dawn sarcastically replied. “It wouldn’t have been necessary if you were pouring off testosterone, and if Xander didn’t still have the heightened sensitivity because of high school.”

“High school?” Don questioned, looking at Xander in confusion.

“Let’s just say it involved a pack of hyenas, and leave it at that, okay?” Xander grinned.

“Okay,” Don agreed.

“Good.” Xander responded, nodding decisively.

“And now that that is all cleared up,” Dawn cleared her throat. “Anybody want to buy me a beer?”