Nope, not a thing.
A smile broke across her face when she saw him there, sitting on the same bench as before. He looked up, smiling as well.
At the same time, both their smiles faded away as they remembered themselves.
"I couldn't sleep again," Andrew said, as if trying to offer an explanation other than wanting to see her.
"Yeah, me either," Dawn said in response. She left out the part where she hadn't really tried. For a moment, she hesitated, but then she sat beside him, leaving a little space between them.
Dawn stared at her hands, turning them over slowly as she searched for something to say to break the ice. She was relieved when Andrew spoke first, and the question he asked made her laugh.
"So how's your Italian these days?"
"About the same," she answered truthfully. "Although I do need it a lot less now that I'm not living in Italy."
"Have you threatened anyone with it recently?"
The smile he gave her then reminded Dawn so much of the boyish one that he used to have, though something about it was different. Maybe it was because these days, Andrew was so clearly no longer a boy. What had he been through over those past three years?
"Nope. I've been able to keep all my recent threats in English. Well, except for this one time when I was threatening a Nelam demon that only spoke Telwyn, but that's a way long story," Dawn replied.
"Tell me sometime?"
Dawn gave him a wry smile. "I'll think about it."
More silence, and Andrew cleared his throat. "So other than threatening demons, what have you been up to?"
"School mainly," Dawn answered with a shrug. "I'm in college now. I managed to sorta skip the rest of high school and go right in."
"What are you studying?"
"Philosophy and history."
Andrew's eyebrow went up. "Philosophy and history? When do you find time to breathe?"
Dawn chuckled. "I've learned to multitask. I can now officially read Kant and keep my eyes open at the same time. It's amazing."
"I always knew you were a smart one, Dawnie. I'm glad to know you're doing well," Andrew told her.
"I guess I just needed to find my niche."
Whatever Andrew's response would have been, it died on his lips when they both looked up at the same time and their eyes locked. Dawn became suddenly clear that sometime since she'd sat down they'd moved closer to each other until their thighs were touching, and she sucked in a breath as she absorbed the feel of the firm muscle he had there now. Even though his sweatpants and her jeans, she could feel the heat of his skin and it sent shockwaves through her.
His hand trembled as he brought it up to her hair, smoothing down the golden-highlighted brown. Dawn's heart pounded in her chest at even the simple touch, and she wondered what would happen if they took it further. Would kissing him now feel the same way that it had three years before? Would his lips still taste the way she remembered?
She didn't get the chance to find out. A noise broke the silence of the night, Dawn wasn't sure what—a car door slamming, maybe?—but it ruined the moment and they pulled away from each other, eyes averted again.
Andrew tried to sound relaxed when he started talking again, though his voice held a small tremble. "So, what do you plan to do when you finish school?"
Dawn decided to play along. It was better than trying to analyze what that moment had meant. "I don't know for sure yet. Giles has offered to let me be a Watcher, but I don't know if that's what I want. Not a full Watcher anyway. Maybe in an advisory capacity or something, since I do like doing the research. There's too much bureaucracy on the Council for me, even with everything Giles has done to clean it up."
"Yeah, I know. It gets frustrating." A pause, and then Andrew admitted softly, "I've thought about quitting."
Dawn turned sharply. "Quitting? But you're good at it."
"I was," Andrew replied. "Maybe. I don't know anymore. I don't know much of anything anymore."
Tentatively, Dawn reached out and put her hand against his back, rubbing it softly. "It'll get better. You've only just come back. Give it some time, and you'll find where you fit in."
Andrew sighed heavily. "I don't know. I just…I just don't know. There's such a disconnect for me now."
"I know what you mean," Dawn told him. "A little bit at least. I know what it's like to not know who you are anymore. When I found out that I was the Key, for a while it was like nothing was real, nothing meant what it used to mean. I was looking at the world through new eyes, and I knew things weren't the same, but I didn't know how to handle them as different. It took a long time for me to relearn how to live my life, but I did. Eventually."
Andrew looked closely at her, his eyes searching her face for a moment. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For understanding."
Something about the moment between them now seemed even more intimate than when he'd been actually touching her, and Dawn shifted slightly. Where had all of her righteous anger where he was concerned gone? That had been so much easier to deal with…
He was looking at her now like he wanted her. Not so much physically—although if the tension crackling between them was any indication, that was there, too—but as if he wanted her. All of her. And it terrified her.
Something about meeting him down in the courtyard like this made it seem like it wasn't real. Maybe it was the darkness or the hour, but it was more like a dream than waking reality. Only it wasn't a dream, and anything that happened between them would have real life consequences in the morning.
"I should go to bed," Dawn said quickly as she rose to her feet. She knew she was probably being a coward, but she knew it was also for the best. "It's late. Or early. Or something."
"Yeah, I should probably do that, too," Andrew said, trying quickly to mask his disappointment.
"So, um, good night?"
"Good night."
Before Dawn could turn around, Andrew gripped her hand, stilling her. "Dawnie?"
She looked down to where their hands met, and her stomach did a flip. "Yeah?"
"Meet me back down here tomorrow. Please."
She didn't ask him why. She didn't tell him they shouldn’t. She simply said, "Okay."
*** *** ***
As soon as Andrew got back to his own bedroom, he felt like a jerk. Cynthia was asleep in the bed—their bed—completely oblivious to the fact that he'd snuck out in the middle of the night in hopes of seeing his ex-girlfriend. Or that after he had met with her, he'd almost kissed her. And asked her to meet him again.
He'd been able to rationalize it to himself when he'd left earlier. He was just going outside for a bit. He had no assurance that Dawn was going to be there, so it wasn't like he was really going to meet her.
But now, he'd gone and made things official. He'd asked her to be there tomorrow, so if he left again, it would be that he was really meeting her. And even if they did nothing but talk, it would be something that his fiancée would have every right to be angry about. When you'd agreed to spend the rest of your life with someone, you didn't sneak out to spend part of the night with someone else.
So he shouldn't go. He'd find Dawn the next day and tell her he'd changed his mind and that it was better if they didn't spend time together like that. He knew they could never really be friends, and he shouldn't even pretend otherwise when those weren't the sort of feelings he had for her. The damage had already been done, he'd moved on even if she hadn't, and the right thing to do was to pull back from her again and stop whatever this was before it got out of control.
Only he wasn't going to do that, and he knew it. He was going to meet Dawn again tomorrow, and probably the day after that, too, if she'd let him.
Yeah, he concluded, he was a complete and total jerk.
Cynthia's eyes opened, and she stretched her arms above her head sleepily as she looked at him. "Andrew? What are you doing up?"
"I was in the bathroom," he lied, wincing internally as he did.
She didn't question it, only closed her eyes again and fell back asleep. It made him feel colossally worse. As did the way she immediately wrapped herself around him when he got into the bed.
Andrew still couldn't find sleep, but at least it was something new keeping him up now.
What was he going to do about this?
*** *** ***
Dawn looked at the clock on her bedside table, the digital readout telling her it was 1:52. She wasn't going to meet Andrew. She wasn't. She was already in bed, tucked under her covers. Sneaking out to meet him like this at night was wrong. They were broken up. He was engaged. It was wrong.
She sighed and tossed off the covers. She probably could've done a better job of convincing herself that she was going to sleep and not going to meet him if she'd bothered to change into her pajamas. Not put on her sexy jeans and fixed her make-up.
Why was she doing this? Nothing could happen between them ever again. All she was doing by going to meet him was prolonging her suffering, keeping back from her the day when she could finally move on. Every second she spent with him had a way of making going on without him that much harder.
What was it about Andrew that she couldn't let go of?
She'd spent less than a month as his lover, and yet she'd carried a torch for three years. No other man had stirred in her even a fraction of what he had. It hadn't made sense to her back then. It didn't make sense to her now. But that didn't matter, because she knew it was the truth without logic.
So she did what she knew she shouldn't do but couldn't make herself not do. She went to meet Andrew.
*** *** ***
Pale hands gripped a shining orb, cold eyes peering inside. The image was still clear, the swirls of green not yet coming together to form what she sought, but soon…
Her lips twisted in a cruel parody of a smile. After so much searching for this source of true power, the time was finally so close.
Soon, she would be able to call the ancient power of the Key her own.
*** *** ***