"So, you guys are making with the groping?"
Dawn giggled into the phone, carefully painting a strike of electric blue polish on her left thumbnail, the earpeice wedged between her shoulder and ear, "Groping? Hardly. We've kissed a few times and admitted we have a...thing. That's all."
Mia snorted on the other end of the line, "Right, Dawn. You're both just so wide eyed and innocent, this 'thing' will only result in a couple pecks ont he mouth."
"Hey! There was no pecking. There was some serious lip lockage. But...I'm not ready for--that. Not with Spike."
"Why not?" Mia demanded, "You did it with Tyler in Sophomore year--"
"OK, for one thing, that was stupid and I regret it *completely*. For another thing, this is Spike and I don't want to screw it up. Tyler was an idiot 16 year old with sweaty hands and over-worked hormones. And I was greiving my sister, still. I was...desperate for comfort."
She closed the bottle of polish and picked up the black bottle and began painting the tips of each nail with the glittery color as Mia sighed in exasperation, "Are you in love with Spike?"
The bottle tumbled out of Dawn's fingers, spilling over the corner of her bedspread. She snatched it up and closed it quickly, "What? No! I mean...I don't know."
There was along silence, then Mia spoke again, "Hey, Dawn?"
In a small, scared voice, "Yes?"
"Why not ask him to prom?"
"Are you *kidding* me?"
~*~
Spike glanced nervously at the two girl sitting on the sofa, poring over several teeny bopper magazines. He noticed that half of Dawn's left hand was painted black at the tips and quirked an eyebrow. *Oookay...And why do they keep at me?*. Finally, after the final glance-and-giggle from Mia, Spike tossed down his issue of Rolling Stone, "What is your bloody problem?"
"Nothing." She insisted innocently, glancing conspiratorily at Dawn and smiling, "Except...Do you owna tux?"
Dawn's eyes widened and she punched her friend hard on the arm and hissed, "Mi-a!"
"I might." He hedged, "Why?"
Dawn cut Mia off and looked frightened for a moment before she suddenly took on a determined air about her, "Spike."
"Nibblet."
"The prom is in two weeks. I want to go."
"OK..."
"With you."
Spike's eyebrows shot up, "Have you lost your bloody mind? I don't go to...to *high school* dances."
"It's not a dance." Mia cut in, "It's the prom."
Dawn looked at him, her eyes wide and full of hope and a certain puppy dog quality he *knew* he never should have taught her and he knew how much this meant to her...
"Do I *have* to dress up?"
Dawn squealed and threw her arms around him, "Dress in your duster and jeans for all I care."
He kissed her quickly on the lips, "You owe me one."
"You'll have fun." Mia assured him, a slightly evil glint in her eyes, "Trust me."
Dawn gave Mia that look she always got when she knew the other singer was up to something...it was called "terror".
Dawn giggled into the phone, carefully painting a strike of electric blue polish on her left thumbnail, the earpeice wedged between her shoulder and ear, "Groping? Hardly. We've kissed a few times and admitted we have a...thing. That's all."
Mia snorted on the other end of the line, "Right, Dawn. You're both just so wide eyed and innocent, this 'thing' will only result in a couple pecks ont he mouth."
"Hey! There was no pecking. There was some serious lip lockage. But...I'm not ready for--that. Not with Spike."
"Why not?" Mia demanded, "You did it with Tyler in Sophomore year--"
"OK, for one thing, that was stupid and I regret it *completely*. For another thing, this is Spike and I don't want to screw it up. Tyler was an idiot 16 year old with sweaty hands and over-worked hormones. And I was greiving my sister, still. I was...desperate for comfort."
She closed the bottle of polish and picked up the black bottle and began painting the tips of each nail with the glittery color as Mia sighed in exasperation, "Are you in love with Spike?"
The bottle tumbled out of Dawn's fingers, spilling over the corner of her bedspread. She snatched it up and closed it quickly, "What? No! I mean...I don't know."
There was along silence, then Mia spoke again, "Hey, Dawn?"
In a small, scared voice, "Yes?"
"Why not ask him to prom?"
"Are you *kidding* me?"
~*~
Spike glanced nervously at the two girl sitting on the sofa, poring over several teeny bopper magazines. He noticed that half of Dawn's left hand was painted black at the tips and quirked an eyebrow. *Oookay...And why do they keep at me?*. Finally, after the final glance-and-giggle from Mia, Spike tossed down his issue of Rolling Stone, "What is your bloody problem?"
"Nothing." She insisted innocently, glancing conspiratorily at Dawn and smiling, "Except...Do you owna tux?"
Dawn's eyes widened and she punched her friend hard on the arm and hissed, "Mi-a!"
"I might." He hedged, "Why?"
Dawn cut Mia off and looked frightened for a moment before she suddenly took on a determined air about her, "Spike."
"Nibblet."
"The prom is in two weeks. I want to go."
"OK..."
"With you."
Spike's eyebrows shot up, "Have you lost your bloody mind? I don't go to...to *high school* dances."
"It's not a dance." Mia cut in, "It's the prom."
Dawn looked at him, her eyes wide and full of hope and a certain puppy dog quality he *knew* he never should have taught her and he knew how much this meant to her...
"Do I *have* to dress up?"
Dawn squealed and threw her arms around him, "Dress in your duster and jeans for all I care."
He kissed her quickly on the lips, "You owe me one."
"You'll have fun." Mia assured him, a slightly evil glint in her eyes, "Trust me."
Dawn gave Mia that look she always got when she knew the other singer was up to something...it was called "terror".
