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Rush

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Summary: Dawn doesn't want to miss the rush.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > Dexter(Past Donor)lucidityFR1598,47036613,12516 Apr 0829 Jul 08Yes

Rush

Disclaimer: Not mine. Least, not last time I checked.
A/N: This is going to be Dawn/Dexter, friendship. Hope you enjoy!

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Dawn grabbed her coat - a hip length leather that she just had to buy because it reminded her of Spike. The police scanner murmured in the background. Sounded like there was blood everywhere. Somebody had a bad night and now they'd never have another. The cop on the scanner had to break in his report so he could vomit.

Must be pretty bad. Probably has blood splattered everywhere.

Dawn smiled as she jumped on her motorcycle, her helmet in place. She had to hurry or she'd miss the rush - wouldn't want to stand out. She had to get there while the people still milled around, astonished at the horror. People liked horror when it wasn't their own.

The bike roared off into the night. The bike was another reminder; this one of both Spike and Faith. But they weren't around and that was just fine. She had her own life. Florida had beckoned her - Miami called her like a siren and she'd come straight out of college.

She had been doing a little preliminary patrol of her night-time neighborhood when she'd first seen him. Not looking for trouble, just needing to see how much trouble there was. She had carried all the pointy and magical weapons she could find and gone out on her bike, just looking around. The police lights had caught her eye, then ... he did. She'd been after him ever since.

Her bike slowed to a crawl when she came in sight of the crime scene. He was there. She had heard his name once, but it hardly mattered. It was the look in his eyes, the way he stood, the way he visibly forced himself to relax whenever he saw someone watching him.

You're our friendly neighborhood monster, aren't you?

The rest of the police force was turned away, leaving the blood splatter analyst to his work. He rose, his gloves covered in blood from turning over the top half of the torso. He stepped back and looked at the scene. He could see everything. She watched it play out on his face as his hand moved slightly.

You know exactly how the bad guy did it, don't you?

The quizzical look on his face was replaced by a maniacal grin as he stared at the parts before him.

Dawn was sure he would get it. Dexter would understand the need to fit in when you know you never will. The need for violence and darkness that contradicts the desire to be 'good'. The rush she felt whenever she took a risk - well planned, thought out, but a risk none the less.

He would understand the need for the rush.

She watched as he looked up. The lights blocked her from view, but she could swear he looked right at her. She watched as the mask returned. The terrible monster, the good man. A female officer came over and spoke to him, refusing to look at the body, at the blood. He leaned into her and said something that made her laugh. Flirty, but that didn't fit with what she new him to be.

That had better be your sister.

Dawn watched for another moment then turned her bike away. Time to head back to her efficiency apartment. She had an early day tomorrow. It was her first day at the police academy.

See you soon, Dexter.
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