Dawn was regretting her decision to get gelato and espresso while still holding all of her schoolbooks and her laptop. She didn't have her sister's coordination or poise, and, therefore, had to watch in horror as everything crashed to the floor. Before the laptop connected with the stone tiles, however, a hand reached out and caught it. This, of course, was in spite of the fact that gelato and espresso were splattered all over the shoes and pants of the hand's owner.

"Omigod! Omigod! I'm so sorry," she cried, kneeling to gather her things. "I mean, thank you, or gratzi, or oh God, I've been in Italy for two years and I can't remember any Italian!"

"Uh, you're welcome," the hand's owner said as he helped her pick up her books.

Dawn looked up to see a smirking, blue-eyed young man with longish sandy blonde hair. "You're an American?" she asked in surprise.

"For the most part," he answered, handing her the last of her books. "Was this raspberry gelato?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm really sorry—"

"And a double espresso?" he cut her off.

"Triple actually, but—"

"Okay, you go find a place to sit down and I'll get your gelato and coffee," he said, standing up.

"But—"

"Go on. I'll find you in a minute," he told her matter-of-factly.

"Okay," she said to herself more than anyone else as she stood to her feet and moved toward a booth near the back of the shop.

A couple of minutes later the young man appeared carefully balancing two bowls of gelato and two tall glasses of iced espresso. He smiled as he set all of the items down on the table and himself sat down across from her.

She shook her head and said, "It's just not fair you're that coordinated, and I nearly destroy everything I own."

"Oh, it's not that bad," he told her. "Is your house still standing?"

"No, actually, but that's totally not my fault," she replied, grinning into her coffee. "I'm Dawn, by the way."

"Connor," he said, taking a sip of his espresso.

"So, are you like an exchange student, or what?" she asked, placing a spoonful of raspberry gelato in her mouth.

"Yeah, I've been traveling across Europe for the last two years as part of this special program at Stanford," he explained. "I sort of get to do the whole bum around Europe thing, but get actual college credit in the process. I wanted to see the world, and it made everyone happy."

"Does 'everyone' mean your parents, or do you have a crazy, extended pseudo-family like I do? Dawn asked.

He chuckled lightly and said, "I do kind of have a crazy, extended pseudo-family, but I was actually just talking about my mom and dad, and my birth father. My birth mother died having me, though I'm told that's probably a good thing."

Dawn flinched at the sudden coldness in his voice. In an attempt to lighten the mood, she kindly said, "I understand complicated family history. I'm not adopted, but my parents divorced when I was ten and my mom died when I was fourteen and my sister raised me after that. And we're from Sunnydale and the whole place, you know, fell into a sinkhole, which is why I'm not responsible for my house's destruction because, you know, natural disaster."

"Natural disaster…right," Connor said, nodding incredulously.

"So...did you always want to see the world, or…?"

"Not really," he began softly, "not until I found my real dad during my freshman year at Stanford. He sort of ran into some...difficulties that summer and I helped him out for a while. And he was...really sick for some of the summer, so I had to help him and his partner rebuild my dad's old business. That was really fun because those guys are more like frenemies than business partners on their best day."

Dawn laughed lightly and said, "Sounds like some guys I knew once, but I don't understand how that made you want to travel the world. Were you just trying to get away from them?"

Connor chuckled. "No, but I spent a lot of time listening to my dad talk about traveling across Europe with my mother," he explained. "He told me that even though he didn't like who he was back then, he was grateful for the experience. It taught him about people and cultures and, in the end, made him a more rounded, whole person. I hate to admit it most of the time, but we're a lot alike, and I thought if it did him so much good, why couldn't it be a good thing for me?"

"Makes sense," she agreed. "After everything that happened at home, my sister and I traveled across Europe for a while until we settled here in Rome. I got into a good school which I needed after missing a year due to the whole Sunnydale-sinkhole-thing."

"So…I guess you're finishing school this year then?" he asked, motioning to her books. As she nodded, he said, "You gonna go to college?"

"Yeah, I want to go to Oxford," Dawn replied enthusiastically.

"Kind of stuffy, don't you think?"

"But it's perfect for what I want to do with my life."

"Which is what?"

"Um…" Dawn began, trying to come up with a normal-sounding version of a Watcher, "well, I want to be able to…teach and protect…others."

Connor's forehead furrowed at her vague explanation, but he smirked and said, "Maybe you should go to a military academy if you want to 'protect others' so much."

"You think you're funny, don't you?"

"Actually, I know I'm funny," he told her, sipping his coffee.

"So, what are you going to do after you graduate from Stanford?" she asked him.

"Graduate school, I guess," he answered, "or maybe the Peace Corps."

"They still have the Peace Corps?" Dawn asked rhetorically. "Where would you go if you joined the Peace Corps?"

"Asia, I think," Connor answered.

"And graduate school?"

"Trinity in Dublin," he replied quickly.

"Well, you've got that one figured out, don't you? I guess you really liked Ireland."

"My birth parents met in Ireland, in Galway," Connor said, smiling. "Even though their relationship was totally fucked-up-and I'm not exaggerating-I guess Ireland is just in my blood. I went there the first semester of the program and I almost didn't want to leave, but Paris was very fun."

Dawn shook her head and said, "I wasn't impressed with Paris."

"It's more fun when you're nineteen and without adult supervision."

It was hours later, and the ice had completely melted into their coffee and their gelato was gone when Dawn suddenly realized she hadn't opened a single book since Connor sat down.

"Oh, gosh, it's getting dark," she said, piling her things into her bag. "I really have to get home."

"Let me walk you," Connor replied, standing up.

Dawn stared up at him and said, "And they say chivalry really is dead."

"Not a chance," he replied, grinning as he offered her his arm.

"Thanks," she said, suddenly shy as she looped her arm through his.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Dawn said, "I'm really sorry about your shoes."

"It's okay. They were free."

"Seriously?" Dawn asked, looking down at his feet. She'd been in Italy long enough to recognize the quality leather and hand stitching of Connor's shoes. They would probably cost a fortune at any decent shoe boutique in Rome.

"Yeah, my dad did this family a favor and now he gets free shoes whenever he wants. He sends me a pair every couple of months. I even have hand stitched leather flip-flops," he explained, sensing her confusion

Dawn bit her lip, unsure if she should ask the question that immediately popped into her head. "Uh…which dad are you talking about?"

"The real one, my birth father," he clarified. "If Dad does someone a favor he gets something normal; like 49ers tickets."

Dawn nodded silently as the sun continued to set. They reached her apartment building just as darkness settled over Rome. Extricating herself from his side and said, "I think I can handle it from here. Thanks for everything. I'm still really sorry about your shoes, even though they were free."

"It's okay," he assured her for what must have been the fourth time. "You know, I kind of kept you from studying today. I'm actually pretty good at math and I have a knack for languages, and I've been a tutor before, so I could actually help you…if you need any help that is."

She smiled and said, "I'd like that. How about tomorrow afternoon at 2? Same place."

"I'll have some gelato waiting for you."

"Do you not trust me?"

"Well, my shoes may be free, but I only have so many pairs," he teased.

She playfully glared at him and nodded before she ducked into the building.

Connor smiled to himself as he walked through the quickly dwindling population of the cobblestone streets. Hairs on his neck prickled and he turned into a dark and deserted alley. The grin on his face took on a more sinister edge.

"So I guess you were following me," he said to the figures in the shadows he could sense rather than see.

"We have a message from the Senior Partners," a scarred vampire said in a gravelly voice as he stepped out to face Connor.

"Wow. That was like so two years ago," he said in an exaggerated valley girl tone. "The Senior Partners really need to find something else to complain about."

The vampire lunged and Connor tucked and rolled, sending the vampire flying. While still on his knees, he pulled out the long knife he had hidden under his jacket and slashed the head off of a scaly demon before he was fully standing again. Kicking at another vampire, he simultaneously stabbed a demon through the abdomen, sending black blood oozing everywhere. He dusted two more vampires before he saw the first one running out of the alley. Grabbing the first piece of broken wood he saw, he ran after his attacker. He easily caught him and threw him roughly against the brick wall.

Holding his knife to the vampire's throat and his makeshift stake to the vampire's chest, Connor demanded, "Who are you working for? And don't say the Senior Partners. You're working for someone on this plane of existence. Who is it?"

"His name is En'Shon."

"As in battle of?" Connor asked with a furrowed brow.

"Not Enchon, En'Shon," the vamp corrected irritably. "He's a sorcerer. I've never met him."

Connor nodded and then calmly slashed the vamp diagonally across the face. He then backed away and said, "Tell En'Shon the son of Angelus says, 'Hi.'"

He turned away from the crying vamp and sheathed his knife under his jacket. "I gotta start carrying stakes again," he muttered as he walked away.

"Hey, I was wondering where you were. I was about to go out on patrol."

"Sorry, I just got so caught up studying that I lost track of time," Dawn told her sister as she hurried toward her room.

"Oh, really?" Buffy asked. "So, what's his name?"

"Huh?" Dawn replied, staring up at her smirking sister as the older woman leaned in the doorway with her arms folded across her chest.

"What's the name of the guy you've spent the last, like, five hours with? The one who was with you at the door? We do have windows, you know?"

"Connor," Dawn admitted, slumping down on her bed.

"Connor, huh?" Buffy asked, joining her sister on her bed. "I'm guessing he's not Italian."

"He's an American," Dawn explained.

"I only saw the top of his head, so how old was he? Is he nice? Is he cute? He's not a vampire, is he?" Buffy asked in a flurry.

Dawn blinked and said, "Uh, he's twenty-one and a junior at Stanford. He's extremely nice because I dumped gelato all over his hand made shoes and not only did he save my laptop, but he got me another gelato. He's totally cute, and no, I saw him in direct sunlight and there was no bursting into flames, so not a vampire."

Buffy's gaze narrowed as she considered all of her sister's answers. "Twenty-one? Isn't he maybe a little old for you?"

"You're seriously asking me that?" Dawn said angrily. "Most of your boyfriends are hundreds of years older than you!"

"Okay, okay, that was bad form," Buffy said placatingly. "Two years really isn't that big of a deal. So, when do I get to meet this guy?"

"Uh, never," Dawn replied, getting up from the bed and pulling off her shirt.

"Never? What do you mean never?"

"I mean you scare people, especially boy people," Dawn explained, tying her hair into a ponytail and grabbing her robe from a nearby chair.

"What do you mean I scare people?" Buffy asked, following her sister across the apartment toward the bathroom.

"Well, you don't really do it on purpose," Dawn said through the closed door. "You just try to be all protective and you wind up being all Slayer-like, and that can be frightening. You do the same thing in your own love life too. That's why all of your serious boyfriends have been vampires, soldiers, or otherwise immortal."

Buffy's face scrunched up in irritation. "Well, fine, all-knowing-one. I'm gonna patrol and then I'll bring back some dinner."

"Okay," Dawn called back over the sound of running water. She sincerely hoped her sister didn't take her frustration out on every demon in Rome.

Connor picked his mail up from the front desk of his building. It included a post card from his parents on their cruise to Jamaica and a letter addressed to him in delicate, yet precise handwriting. There was no return address, but there was no need for one. Connor only knew one person that still hand wrote letters.

Sitting down on the main steps, he pulled the letter open. It read:

Connor,

We're all fine here. Gunn has gotten really good at fighting from his wheelchair. Illyria is more human than when you last saw her. Steph and Topher are doing really well. I think Steph still has a crush on you, but she's starting to get over it. Kate Lockley, an old friend of mine has also decided to join the company. She was a detective with the LAPD when I first came here, and, if I'm honest, I got her fired. She still has contacts in the department, though, and it's been nice to have her back as a friend and ally.

There hasn't been much activity from the Senior Partners. I guess we dealt them a serious blow a couple of years ago. We might all be dust before they can fully regroup. I hope the same is true in every city with a Wolfram and Hart branch, including Rome.

Despite some bad memories of the city, Rome is still one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. Darla always enjoyed the Sistine Chapel. I'm sorry I can't offer any advice about the food. You should also steer clear of the Immortal. He's an old enemy of mine and Spike's. You should keep an eye out for Spike. We haven't heard anything from him in six months, but he was headed for Rome, as my sources tell me. I know you can hold your own, but I hope you're avoiding any trouble with the demon community. They almost hold as much power in Rome as the Pope himself. Be safe, son.

Angel

Connor smiled to himself as he pulled out his cell phone and hit the second number on his speed dial and waited.

"Hello," Angel's voice answered.

"Hey, I just got your letter," Connor told him. "You know, they invented this great thing called email a while ago."

"Letter writing is a lost art, kid," Angel replied. "Something on your mind?"

"Yeah," Connor said uncertainly. "Who is En'Shon?"