A/N: This was written for the fic on demand LJ community. The request was for intimacy without smut, so I wrote a Spike/Dawn fic set after "The Gift" (between seasons 5 and 6). I hope you enjoy!
"Come in," Dawn said to the vampire hovering outside of her window.
By now, the invitation was just formality. After the first time (the night of Buffy's funeral), he could have come in any time he liked, but he always waited for her to ask. He didn't want to intrude on her grief if she didn't want him there, but she never turned him away.
He came because she was the closest thing to his Slayer that he would be able to find on this Earth. Dawn herself was unique in a way that no other could be, but her body had been formed using the Slayer's blood, and now that Buffy was gone, Spike clung to Dawn like a lifeline. When he closed his eyes, she sometimes smelled so similar to the Slayer that he could lose himself in her arms and imagine it was Buffy who was holding him close as they laid in bed. Although, Buffy had never been this tender.
Dawn let him in because he allowed her to be weak. Everyone else told her "it will be OK" while giving her such pitying stares that she felt she had to be strong just so they would stop looking at her that way. Willow, especially, frightened her. When she said everything would be alright, her eyes got a manic glow to them that Dawn found very unsettling. She tried her hardest to be strong around Willow.
But she didn't need to be strong for Spike. He would creep into her room every night and hold her close, letting her cry into his arms. He wouldn't tell her that things would be alright…because he knew that even after they healed, nothing would ever be the same. He simply let her mourn the loss of her sister.
And she would let him take solace in her as well, even though she knew he was thinking of Buffy every time he laid down next to her and cradled her against his chest. There were times when she would awake from a fitful sleep to find him nuzzling her neck and whispering Buffy's name, but he never tried to take anything beyond that. Deep down, he knew that she would never be Buffy, and he had enough respect for both Summers sisters to not use Dawn's body to soothe his own pain by drowning it with lust.
Dawn was grateful for this, because she knew that if he wanted more, she would not be able to deny him. Her body flushed every time she found his lips absently brushing against her neck, and part of her ached for the momentary oblivion that she knew would come from giving in to her desire, but in truth, she was not ready for a relationship of that level. Neither of them were, really. They needed to heal before they could even consider something along those lines.
For now, they simply needed comfort, and they found that in each other.