A/N: This is very AU. Buffy had sex with Angel and let Angelus out. But the trick is, Buffy has a younger sister. But Dawn's only, like, a year younger. Buffy's older in this fic, too. So Dawn's probably around 17 or so. William is Spike, but a more gentler side. Joyce is, like, obsessed with finding the cure for Angelus. And Dawn is basically her lonely self.

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

The park bench feels hard beneath her slender thighs. She can already sense the wooden slats make impression on her tender flesh. The unusually cold wind twirls around her and she shudders. While wrapping a thin black shawl around her exposed arms, she figures that she should go home. But she was expected home around twelve o'clock and it was only ten. Running her numbed fingers through her long, brow hair, she tried to figure how it all went so wrong.

It all started when the most popular boy, Erick Zanbie, asked her out to the semi-formal. It should have clicked that something wasn't right. But she was all to drowning in the feeling of actually belonging to really notice. She bought a gorgeous vintage dress and even had her hair styled the day of the dance. When they got to the affair that's when it hit her. Everyone was standing around in a group as she exited the car with Erick. They all pointed and laughed at her confused expression. But it all became clear when Veronica Starr walked up with her cleavage hanging out everywhere and kissed her date. The crowd laughed and jeered and mocked and smirked at the hurt girl as she looked upon the godly jerk that set her up.

Apparently, as she heard them whisper, there was a bet that Erick couldn't get the "biggest loser" to the dance.

Well, she made Erick seventy bucks richer.

She ran out of the school building as fast as she could, only tripping less than a handful of times in her high heels.

This led her to why she was sitting on the hard bench at the empty park on Main Street.

A lone tear traveled down her face as she remembered. Was it too hard to just want to belong? But it was her own stupid, selfish fault that she was in this mess. If she would have just been smarter. Just been a little more on top of things... She was the slayer's sister; her senses were just as keen as if she was the slayer herself. She should have known better. Should have done-well-something.

With an overwhelming sense of apathy washing over her, she decided that it would be best to get in touch with her roots again. Her toes touched the ground with an uncanny gracefulness and she strode over to the swing set. The black, lace shawl fell to the ground, fluttering with the wind ever so lightly, as she sat herself in the swing. A rustling of chains could be heard as she slowly pumped her dainty legs back and forth, causing her to fly in the air.

A simple giddiness flowed through her veins as if she had drunk too much champagne. To be truthful, it was only one glass. She kicked off her cream, pointy slip ons and enjoyed the way the crisp wind tickled her feet. It made the night seem lighter. As if it didn't really happen.

But oh how it did. And no matter what she did, it wouldn't take it away.

Because she was that loner- that misfit- that no one liked. She was different and everyone hated foreign objects. So, friends were not a common thread with her. Nor was just acquaintances.

Her depressing thoughts started to dull her swinging. She stopped pumping her legs and the motion died.

She spotted smoke dancing through the trees. It smelled of cigarettes and bourbon. This halted her movement and she glanced out in the distance. But all she saw was darkness.

A chill ran up her spine as she realized how dangerous this was. She was prime bait for anyone who wanted a taste of the mini-slayer. Stupidity and disgust played across her features as she realizes how much better she was than this. She knew that there was something that went bump in the night. That there was true evil out there, who actually had her close to death before. She knew a lot more than she wanted. Ignorance really was bliss.

There was a cracking sound from where the smoke was arising. It resembled a boot stepping on a twig.

Deciding that it would be best if she left, she stepped barefoot onto the ground. She smoothed out her dress, but ruffled her hair. Taking her finger, she smudged her lipstick a bit. It was the part she had to play-the happy, everything is fine, i just made out with my date girl. Making it out to the road, she picked up her pace and followed the bright street lights until she got home.

A dark figure walked out from the forest, smoke streaming from a cigarette that dangled from his mouth. He spots her disregarded items and pockets them, but not before he holds the shawl to his nose and takes a strong whiff. A smile forms on his thin lips as he watches the girl disappear into the light.