Standard Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and co. own the characters, Iím just playing with them. I do, however, own this story, so donít steal it. Archive it anywhere; just ask first.
Feedback is always appreciated. Make me blush with praise or rip apart the story with criticism, or both.
Title from the Indigo Girls song of the same name.
Dawn woke up to hot lips on her own. Janice? When she opened her eyes she saw the redhead's pale face looming over her, hot breath on her face.
"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met, you know that?"
Dawn didn't say anything, wishing she could have pretended she was still asleep, rolled over, away from this, let it be a bad dream.
Janice was unbuttoning her pajama top now and was pleased to see that Dawn wasn't wearing a bra. She squeezed the flesh and bit the nipple. Dawn moaned.
"Oh yeah, you like that, don't you?"
Dawn didn't say anything. She knew she should say "No," should say "Stop," but that would mean this was really happening, and if she lay there long enough maybe it would turn out to all be a dream.
Janice had slipped her hand under the elastic waistband of her pajama bottoms, thrust her fingers up insider her. It hurt, and now she couldn't say anything even if she wanted to, because Janice was kissing her again, hard, practically chewing off her lip.
Finally she was done and went away, and eventually Dawn fell back asleep.
She never slept over at Janice's house again.
She and Kit had been going out for over six months, and she had barely let her touch her. One day Kit managed to suprise her with a kiss on the lips. Dawn yelped and jerked away.
Kit grabber her wrists. "Baby, what is it? You barely let me touch you."
Dawn took a deep breath. "I was at a sleepover last year, and this girl, we used to be friends, she kissed me while I was sleeping, and she touched me, like really touched me, and so every time someone touches me, I remember, and it hurts, and I can't do it."
Kit sat in shock. "Dawnie, she raped you."
Dawn shook her head. "No, it wasn't like that. I mean, it was, but it's not like I told her to stop or anything, I just lay there."
"Dawnie, sweetie," Kit was stroking her arms now, "she did sexual things to you against your will. That's rape."
Dawn kept shaking her head. "I just want her out of my head."
Kit cupped her face in her hands. "Then let me help."
Dawn looked up at her, teary. "How?"
Kit stifled a laugh. "By letting me touch you, but letting me make it good for you."
Dawn hugged her tight.
It was another week before Dawn would let Kit kiss her. They had warmed up to it with a lot of hugging, getting Dawn used to a body tight against hers, and Kit would kiss her neck, nibble her earlobe, touch her ass.
Then one night they were sitting on Kit's couch watching a movie and Dawn leaned over and kissed her ever so gently. Kit waited a moment and began kissing her back. She had always though it bizarre when she passed couples who were kissing touching no more than each other's mouths, but right then she knew that for them, for now, this was right.
After a while Dawn stopped and Kit smiled at her. "I'm proud of you." Dawn smiled back and snuggled closer to Kit, who began stroking her hair -- the one physical affection she had always been allowed.