[BSC fic] flat is the world, Stacey/Dawn
Title: flat is the world
Author: Carla (escritoireazul)
Fandom: The Baby-Sitters Club
Pairing: Stacey/Dawn
Rating/Category: 16+ girl slash
Prompt: BSC, writer's choice slash, the world is flat
Word Count: 2,000+
Author's Note: Written for smallfandomfest
Summary: The world was flat once, and Stacey thought she was straight.
The world was flat.
Okay, I knew it wasn’t really flat; I wasn’t Claudia after all. Sometimes it felt like it was, or like the ocean was all sand, or the moon swallowed the sun, or pi was exactly four. Impossible things, all of them.
Nothing as impossible as sitting on the big swing in Mary Anne’s front yard while I fell in love with Dawn Read Schafer.
There were so many errors in that logic I couldn’t even begin to count them.
Number one error, the biggest and baddest, was that I didn’t like girls. I liked boys. Everyone knew Stacey McGill liked boys, and she liked them a lot. Mary Anne would say I luved them, but she got away with more teasing than anyone else. Maybe because I knew she almost never meant real harm, or because she smiled sweetly to take the sting out of her words. Possibly it was because I was in love with her stepsister.
Whatever, the point was, I liked boys, and the boys liked me. I learned a long time ago that because I was beautiful and had blonde hair and big breasts I could get my way with them every time. Better still, they always underestimated me, and my academic victories were even sweeter because of it. Hot ass mathematician for the win.
Of course, Dawn wasn’t a boy.
Sometimes my lip curled when I thought about her. She could be so Dawn, all wanna-be hippie and crunchy granola and secretly bitchy under it all. I never forgot the time she spied on me and Robert, or when she crashed the party we threw. We were thirteen then, and even though I knew it was ridiculous to remember it five years later, I still did. I even got all twisted up inside over it still.
The thing is, Dawn was prettiest when she was fired up, angry, passionate. She was best when she was at peace, relaxed, certain the world was a good place despite everything. She was prettiest when she was mad, and when I thought about kissing her, that was how I pictured her.
It was easy. She always had some cause, some righteous indignation going for her. I went to rallies with her sometimes, and it would have been easy to catch her in the middle of it, caught up in the fervor of her fellow protestors, and just put my hands in her hair and kiss her.
Next to me, Dawn stretched out her legs and sighed. Her glass of tea bumped against my leg and made me shiver. We were drinking all natural white tea sweetened with organic honey probably collected during a full moon with a full floral apology to the bees for stealing from them.
That was the type of thing Dawn found important.
“It’s so hot,” Dawn whined, and fanned herself with one hand. It was, I had sweat on my upper lip and I could feel some drip down my back. I wasn’t going to complain; I really liked the way her shirt clung to her. It was white, and had little embroidered flowers along the bottom. She paired it with faded cut off blue jean shorts, and she painted sunflowers on her toenails.
Such a hippie.
She had pretty feet. They would look nice in good sandals, not the Birkenstocks she normally wore. She flexed her toes, as if she read my thoughts. I noticed a silver ring on the second toe of her right foot.
“It was Mrs. Winslow’s,” she said, and lifted her foot higher so I could see it better. It was made up of metal flowers, it glinted in the sunlight, and I was chilled again. I didn’t believe in ghosts - that was Dawn’s thing - but there was something in the air between us. The memory of a hippie, and Dawn was a mind reader, and I was falling in love.
“It’s pretty.”
“I can only wear it here. Sunny doesn’t know I have it.”
“It’s been so long….”
“Yeah.” She shrugged, and pushed her feet against the dirt. The sudden movement caused the swing to shift and threw me up against the chain. “But she went so crazy after, I couldn’t tell her then.”
No, not then. And not now, because they weren’t friends anymore. I knew these things. I knew a lot of things. Somehow, Dawn and I ended up best friends. If you had told me, back in the days when we were a club, that I would be best friends with our California Girl, I would have laughed at you. Sure, she was nice and all, but too activist, too strident, too often trying to prove herself, too worried about what the rest of the world thought about her. She was supposed to be the most individual of us all, but sometimes. Sometimes she made me wonder what the world was coming to.
She spent every single summer and winter vacation in Stoneybrook after she moved back to California. I went out there for two different spring breaks, and the one year we were on vacation at the same time, she came to New York with me.
After we all graduated from middle school, most of us lost contact with Dawn. With each other. Mary Anne still talked to Dawn, but that was to be expected. Their parents were married, and it would have made for really awkward family gatherings if they weren’t friends. They didn’t always get along, but I’ve been told siblings never do.
I think Dawn and I clicked because we reached big turning points in our lives at the same time. We both changed back in eighth grade, started to grow up, and our friends weren’t ready. They didn’t deal with either of us very well. We didn’t always deal with ourselves very well.
Once she was no longer right here in everyone’s face about recycling more or using less water or turning off lights, I found out she was actually easy to talk to. Claudia and I were never the same after Jeremy, and after our big fight, I called Dawn. It felt natural. When Sunny’s mother died and Dawn didn’t know what to do, she called me. Unlimited text messaging, high speed internet, and long emails just made staying in touch even easier.
Sometimes you change, and the people you love aren’t ready for it.
Dawn was never perfect, far from it, but ever since she moved to California, she was always there for me, even more than my friends in Stoneybrook or New York. Whether she approved or not, she was there.
She certainly hadn’t approved of me when I slept with Sam Thomas. He was a senior and the two years had made him hotter than ever. I had called her when I decided he was going to be my first.
“He’s gonna see my O face.” I laughed, and settled myself more comfortably on the bed. “He’s gonna see my va-jay-jay.” I was all ready for a long phone call - unlimited nights and weekends, best cell phone service ever - but Dawn didn’t laugh. She wasn’t amused.
But she listened when I needed to talk about it after, how it had been uncomfortable, and how the world didn’t move. I didn’t expect bells and whistles the first time, I knew better than to trust the media, but it got worse the second time, and I was pissed.
“Where are you?” Dawn waved her hand in front of my face.
“What?”
She nudged me with her elbow. “You’re a million miles away. Did the heat melt your brain?”
“No, I was just….” I didn’t know what to say to that. ‘Trying to figure out when I fell in love with you’ wasn’t the best answer. “Thinking.”
Dawn nodded wisely. “Ah, yes. The standard end of high school surge of memories and thoughts of the future. I know it well.”
“You only graduated a week before I did. Don’t act like you’re some graduation guru.”
“Celestial Dawn, knows all, sees all.”
“Dumbass Dawn, knows nothing, sees nothing.”
She prodded me with her elbow again, and then leaned closer, until her chin practically rested on my shoulder.
“I see one thing for sure.”
“What’s that?” I asked, and tried to ignore the way my whole body tensed.
“You want to kiss me.” She shifted her weight so we started swinging again, and smirked at me. “You think I’m gorgeous, you want to date me.”
“That’s not how it goes,” I said inanely.
She shrugged. “Whatever. There are many versions. The point is, you’ve got a crush on me.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to argue, but I knew ‘I do not’ wouldn’t carry a whole lot of weight. I didn’t mean to just sit there and blush, but that’s what I did. She continued to smirk, and I wanted, more than anything, to wipe the smug expression off her face.
I planted my feet and made the swing jerk around in a half circle. She grabbed the back to catch her balance, and I leaned forward and kissed her.
It was good to follow my instincts. I doubted myself sometimes, like anyone else, but I knew, deep down, if I didn’t do what I thought I should do, I would never know. And right then, I wanted to know.
I cupped her cheek, and Dawn slid her hand around to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. Her lips were rough, chapped. I knew a good regime which could fix that problem for her. Her tongue touched mine, and I felt sparks.
Why was I thinking about things like chapped lips? I was kissing a gorgeous girl - a gorgeous girl was crawling into my lap, her skin hot and damp against mine. The swing creaked as we rocked it. She slid her hand higher, knotted her fingers in my hair.
She bit my lower lip and then pulled back.
It didn’t work. She was still smug, even while she tried to catch her breath. My breathing was uneven, too, and my heart rate accelerated. I could hear it, racing along. Dawn’s chest rose and fell with each breath, and her shirt was tight against them. I could see her nipples were hard. Of course she was braless.
Hippie, I thought.
She rocked against my thigh a little, and I pressed up against her.
“Told you,” she said, and her breathing was still strained, “you wanted to kiss me.”
She ducked her head, kissed the side of my neck. She pulled on my hair to move my head, and my hands slid up the back of her shirt. Her skin was damp, sweaty, and it made her press tighter against me.
I groaned when she hit a good spot near my collar bone, and she pressed her knee in between my legs, up tight against my shorts. I throbbed, and thrust against her. When she bit, I knew she would leave a mark, and I didn’t care.
“It’s hot.” She panted and squirmed against me. “Let’s go inside.”
After the fire, when they renovated the barn, they added central air. Dawn had complained, but that didn’t stop her from using it every summer. It would feel glorious, the cold air on my bare skin. Maybe I would strip down and take a cold shower.
Dawn put her other hand on my breast, and I made a noise I’d never made before.
“You want to kiss me,” she teased, sing-songing the words, “you want to fuck me.”
“God, you’re annoying.” I put both hands on her waist, and helped her stand. I wasn’t too steady on my own feet, and she put her hand on my shoulder. That was why I put my arm around her waist, to reciprocate, not because I didn’t want to stop touching her.
She practically dragged me upstairs.
We didn’t have sex. We did end up shirtless in the airconditioning, making out for over an hour. We did end up going out to the movies that night, and holding hands in the darkness.
We did end up kissing good-bye in my car, just a brief peck, something soft, something gentle.
“We’re doing the equation backward,” I said.
Dawn laughed, and rested her head on my shoulder. She took my hand, and laced her fingers through mine. “Math nerd,” she teased. “There is no right way, you know.”
“To solve an equation? Sure there is.”
“To date. There are so many ways to do it.”
People believed the world was flat, once, but they were wrong.
I squeezed her fingers. “Want to go swimming tomorrow?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said, and then grinned at me. “I can show off my new bikini.”
She’d already shown off two others in less than a week, but that was Dawn, too. I smiled back, and tried not to look like I was thinking about helping her take it off after we were done.
From the look on her face, she knew.
End
Author: Carla (escritoireazul)
Fandom: The Baby-Sitters Club
Pairing: Stacey/Dawn
Rating/Category: 16+ girl slash
Prompt: BSC, writer's choice slash, the world is flat
Word Count: 2,000+
Author's Note: Written for smallfandomfest
Summary: The world was flat once, and Stacey thought she was straight.
The world was flat.
Okay, I knew it wasn’t really flat; I wasn’t Claudia after all. Sometimes it felt like it was, or like the ocean was all sand, or the moon swallowed the sun, or pi was exactly four. Impossible things, all of them.
Nothing as impossible as sitting on the big swing in Mary Anne’s front yard while I fell in love with Dawn Read Schafer.
There were so many errors in that logic I couldn’t even begin to count them.
Number one error, the biggest and baddest, was that I didn’t like girls. I liked boys. Everyone knew Stacey McGill liked boys, and she liked them a lot. Mary Anne would say I luved them, but she got away with more teasing than anyone else. Maybe because I knew she almost never meant real harm, or because she smiled sweetly to take the sting out of her words. Possibly it was because I was in love with her stepsister.
Whatever, the point was, I liked boys, and the boys liked me. I learned a long time ago that because I was beautiful and had blonde hair and big breasts I could get my way with them every time. Better still, they always underestimated me, and my academic victories were even sweeter because of it. Hot ass mathematician for the win.
Of course, Dawn wasn’t a boy.
Sometimes my lip curled when I thought about her. She could be so Dawn, all wanna-be hippie and crunchy granola and secretly bitchy under it all. I never forgot the time she spied on me and Robert, or when she crashed the party we threw. We were thirteen then, and even though I knew it was ridiculous to remember it five years later, I still did. I even got all twisted up inside over it still.
The thing is, Dawn was prettiest when she was fired up, angry, passionate. She was best when she was at peace, relaxed, certain the world was a good place despite everything. She was prettiest when she was mad, and when I thought about kissing her, that was how I pictured her.
It was easy. She always had some cause, some righteous indignation going for her. I went to rallies with her sometimes, and it would have been easy to catch her in the middle of it, caught up in the fervor of her fellow protestors, and just put my hands in her hair and kiss her.
Next to me, Dawn stretched out her legs and sighed. Her glass of tea bumped against my leg and made me shiver. We were drinking all natural white tea sweetened with organic honey probably collected during a full moon with a full floral apology to the bees for stealing from them.
That was the type of thing Dawn found important.
“It’s so hot,” Dawn whined, and fanned herself with one hand. It was, I had sweat on my upper lip and I could feel some drip down my back. I wasn’t going to complain; I really liked the way her shirt clung to her. It was white, and had little embroidered flowers along the bottom. She paired it with faded cut off blue jean shorts, and she painted sunflowers on her toenails.
Such a hippie.
She had pretty feet. They would look nice in good sandals, not the Birkenstocks she normally wore. She flexed her toes, as if she read my thoughts. I noticed a silver ring on the second toe of her right foot.
“It was Mrs. Winslow’s,” she said, and lifted her foot higher so I could see it better. It was made up of metal flowers, it glinted in the sunlight, and I was chilled again. I didn’t believe in ghosts - that was Dawn’s thing - but there was something in the air between us. The memory of a hippie, and Dawn was a mind reader, and I was falling in love.
“It’s pretty.”
“I can only wear it here. Sunny doesn’t know I have it.”
“It’s been so long….”
“Yeah.” She shrugged, and pushed her feet against the dirt. The sudden movement caused the swing to shift and threw me up against the chain. “But she went so crazy after, I couldn’t tell her then.”
No, not then. And not now, because they weren’t friends anymore. I knew these things. I knew a lot of things. Somehow, Dawn and I ended up best friends. If you had told me, back in the days when we were a club, that I would be best friends with our California Girl, I would have laughed at you. Sure, she was nice and all, but too activist, too strident, too often trying to prove herself, too worried about what the rest of the world thought about her. She was supposed to be the most individual of us all, but sometimes. Sometimes she made me wonder what the world was coming to.
She spent every single summer and winter vacation in Stoneybrook after she moved back to California. I went out there for two different spring breaks, and the one year we were on vacation at the same time, she came to New York with me.
After we all graduated from middle school, most of us lost contact with Dawn. With each other. Mary Anne still talked to Dawn, but that was to be expected. Their parents were married, and it would have made for really awkward family gatherings if they weren’t friends. They didn’t always get along, but I’ve been told siblings never do.
I think Dawn and I clicked because we reached big turning points in our lives at the same time. We both changed back in eighth grade, started to grow up, and our friends weren’t ready. They didn’t deal with either of us very well. We didn’t always deal with ourselves very well.
Once she was no longer right here in everyone’s face about recycling more or using less water or turning off lights, I found out she was actually easy to talk to. Claudia and I were never the same after Jeremy, and after our big fight, I called Dawn. It felt natural. When Sunny’s mother died and Dawn didn’t know what to do, she called me. Unlimited text messaging, high speed internet, and long emails just made staying in touch even easier.
Sometimes you change, and the people you love aren’t ready for it.
Dawn was never perfect, far from it, but ever since she moved to California, she was always there for me, even more than my friends in Stoneybrook or New York. Whether she approved or not, she was there.
She certainly hadn’t approved of me when I slept with Sam Thomas. He was a senior and the two years had made him hotter than ever. I had called her when I decided he was going to be my first.
“He’s gonna see my O face.” I laughed, and settled myself more comfortably on the bed. “He’s gonna see my va-jay-jay.” I was all ready for a long phone call - unlimited nights and weekends, best cell phone service ever - but Dawn didn’t laugh. She wasn’t amused.
But she listened when I needed to talk about it after, how it had been uncomfortable, and how the world didn’t move. I didn’t expect bells and whistles the first time, I knew better than to trust the media, but it got worse the second time, and I was pissed.
“Where are you?” Dawn waved her hand in front of my face.
“What?”
She nudged me with her elbow. “You’re a million miles away. Did the heat melt your brain?”
“No, I was just….” I didn’t know what to say to that. ‘Trying to figure out when I fell in love with you’ wasn’t the best answer. “Thinking.”
Dawn nodded wisely. “Ah, yes. The standard end of high school surge of memories and thoughts of the future. I know it well.”
“You only graduated a week before I did. Don’t act like you’re some graduation guru.”
“Celestial Dawn, knows all, sees all.”
“Dumbass Dawn, knows nothing, sees nothing.”
She prodded me with her elbow again, and then leaned closer, until her chin practically rested on my shoulder.
“I see one thing for sure.”
“What’s that?” I asked, and tried to ignore the way my whole body tensed.
“You want to kiss me.” She shifted her weight so we started swinging again, and smirked at me. “You think I’m gorgeous, you want to date me.”
“That’s not how it goes,” I said inanely.
She shrugged. “Whatever. There are many versions. The point is, you’ve got a crush on me.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to argue, but I knew ‘I do not’ wouldn’t carry a whole lot of weight. I didn’t mean to just sit there and blush, but that’s what I did. She continued to smirk, and I wanted, more than anything, to wipe the smug expression off her face.
I planted my feet and made the swing jerk around in a half circle. She grabbed the back to catch her balance, and I leaned forward and kissed her.
It was good to follow my instincts. I doubted myself sometimes, like anyone else, but I knew, deep down, if I didn’t do what I thought I should do, I would never know. And right then, I wanted to know.
I cupped her cheek, and Dawn slid her hand around to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. Her lips were rough, chapped. I knew a good regime which could fix that problem for her. Her tongue touched mine, and I felt sparks.
Why was I thinking about things like chapped lips? I was kissing a gorgeous girl - a gorgeous girl was crawling into my lap, her skin hot and damp against mine. The swing creaked as we rocked it. She slid her hand higher, knotted her fingers in my hair.
She bit my lower lip and then pulled back.
It didn’t work. She was still smug, even while she tried to catch her breath. My breathing was uneven, too, and my heart rate accelerated. I could hear it, racing along. Dawn’s chest rose and fell with each breath, and her shirt was tight against them. I could see her nipples were hard. Of course she was braless.
Hippie, I thought.
She rocked against my thigh a little, and I pressed up against her.
“Told you,” she said, and her breathing was still strained, “you wanted to kiss me.”
She ducked her head, kissed the side of my neck. She pulled on my hair to move my head, and my hands slid up the back of her shirt. Her skin was damp, sweaty, and it made her press tighter against me.
I groaned when she hit a good spot near my collar bone, and she pressed her knee in between my legs, up tight against my shorts. I throbbed, and thrust against her. When she bit, I knew she would leave a mark, and I didn’t care.
“It’s hot.” She panted and squirmed against me. “Let’s go inside.”
After the fire, when they renovated the barn, they added central air. Dawn had complained, but that didn’t stop her from using it every summer. It would feel glorious, the cold air on my bare skin. Maybe I would strip down and take a cold shower.
Dawn put her other hand on my breast, and I made a noise I’d never made before.
“You want to kiss me,” she teased, sing-songing the words, “you want to fuck me.”
“God, you’re annoying.” I put both hands on her waist, and helped her stand. I wasn’t too steady on my own feet, and she put her hand on my shoulder. That was why I put my arm around her waist, to reciprocate, not because I didn’t want to stop touching her.
She practically dragged me upstairs.
We didn’t have sex. We did end up shirtless in the airconditioning, making out for over an hour. We did end up going out to the movies that night, and holding hands in the darkness.
We did end up kissing good-bye in my car, just a brief peck, something soft, something gentle.
“We’re doing the equation backward,” I said.
Dawn laughed, and rested her head on my shoulder. She took my hand, and laced her fingers through mine. “Math nerd,” she teased. “There is no right way, you know.”
“To solve an equation? Sure there is.”
“To date. There are so many ways to do it.”
People believed the world was flat, once, but they were wrong.
I squeezed her fingers. “Want to go swimming tomorrow?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said, and then grinned at me. “I can show off my new bikini.”
She’d already shown off two others in less than a week, but that was Dawn, too. I smiled back, and tried not to look like I was thinking about helping her take it off after we were done.
From the look on her face, she knew.
End