Buffy stood at the front door of Greentree Elementary School, leaning against a pole. Emily came through the door with a brown haired boy walking next to her.

"Hey Emily."

"Hi mom. This is my friend Connor."

"Hi Connor."

"Hi Mrs. Summers."

"Mom, can Connor come over and stay for dinner?"

"I don't see why not." Buffy stared at the boy. Maybe she was crazy, but Connor had a striking resemblance to Angel. Almost as much as Emily reminded Buffy of Spike.

Connor and Emily went into Emily's room and dropped their backpacks on the floor. "Nice digs," said Connor. Emily shrugged and flopped onto her bed. A strand of blonde hair fell into her face. She blew it off, but it fell back again. While Connor inspected the photographs tacked onto her bulletin board, she leaned over and pressed play on her CD player. Mandy Moore started singing through the speakers. Connor made a face and started gagging. "What did I tell you about that stuff?"

"Not within 100 feet of you," she muttered and pulled a CD wallet out from under her bed. "50 Cent?" she asked.

"No."

"Avril?"

"No."

"Annie soundtrack?"

"No."

"Look, I'm sorry. This is an alternate reality. I haven't been exposed to Spike's-" she stopped and looked away. Connor crossed his arms and sat down on the floor in front of her. He wiped a tear from her cheek, smiled at her and took the CD wallet from her, flipping through it. "Who's Dingoes Ate My Baby?" "Um...Willow gave it to me for Christmas. I think the singer or something was her boyfriend in high school. They're pretty cool."

Connor put the CD in the CD player. As Emily lay down again, going back to blowing hair out of her face, Connor opened the window and threw the Mandy Moore CD like a Frisbee out of it.

"Hey!" shrieked Emily, running over to where he was grinning by the window. She shoved him. "I should just throw YOU out the sodding window!" He laughed and shoved her back.

"So Connor, are you in Emily's class?" Buffy asked as she heaped spaghetti onto three plates.

"Yeah," said Connor.

"Do you like school?" Buffy asked him.

"Uh, not really." Emily kicked him under the table. "I mean, yeah. It's fun."

"Well that's nice," said Buffy. "What's your favorite subject?" She sat down.

"Uh, I like PE. And, um...reading."

"Cool. So what do your parents do?" This time it was Buffy who got a kick under the table. "What, I can't ask a simple question?" Buffy asked Emily. "And ow!" Connor hesitated and turned to Emily. She shrugged at him. She hadn't wanted her mom to know he didn't really like school. She probably didn't want her mom to think she was hanging out with bad people.

"My mom...my mom's a teacher and my dad's a lawyer."

"What does your mom teach?"

"Kindergarten. But at a private school."

"Oh, wow."

"What do you do, Mrs. Summers?" he asked, happy to change the subject.

"Oh, please call me Buffy. But I'm a police officer.."

"Cool! Do you catch murderers and stuff?"

"Once in a while," said Buffy, smiling at Emily knowingly.

"You can just drop me off here," said Connor. Buffy stopped her car in front of a large white house with forest green shutters.

"Is this it?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Mrs. Summers."

"Buffy," she reminded him.

"Right."

"Ok, have a good night. I'll just wait here until you get inside."

"Oh, you don't need to."

"It's ok," said Buffy, smiling.

"Uh, ok," said Connor nervously. "I'm just gonna go around to the back door."

"Alright. Seeya soon."

"Bye. See you tomorrow Emily."

"Bye," said Emily.

Connor got out of the car, slammed the door and walked by the garage, around the corner and shrank out of the light when the driveway lights with motion sensors turned on. He turned the next corner and hid behind a garbage can until he heard the car pull out of the driveway. Then he started walking.

"Mom?" Emily asked.

"Yeah?" Buffy asked back, looking at Emily in the rear-view mirror.

"There's something I should tell you, but I don't know if I'm supposed to."

"Well, you know you can tell me. I won't tell anybody."

"Well...Connor's mom's not a teacher. She's dead. And his dad..." Emily bit her lip, trying to think of a lie closer to the truth. He's a drunk...guy. He hasn't seen Connor in a long time."

"Who does Connor live with?"

"He's in foster care. But the guy he lives with is ok. He doesn't hurt him. The last one did."

"Oh that's awful. I can't believe I asked him all those questions."

"I'm sorry I kicked you. I just figured he might be embarrassed about it."

"That's ok. I'm really glad you're friends with him. He probably needs a friend, the poor kid."

Emily wiped a tear from her eye. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "Hey mom?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too Emily. Is everything ok?"

No, she wanted to say. It's not ok. I gave up the two most important people in the world to me and got you. And I put Connor in this horrible life. So why don't I feel worse? "Yeah, everything's fine." She couldn't say those things. Her mom wouldn't act the same around her. Or even if she acted the same, she wouldn't think about her the same. It would be weird, like when they figured out Aunt Dawn wasn't really as human as they thought she was. So they sat in silence the rest of the way home.

In the 30 minutes it took to walk from the white house with green shutters to the house Connor would spend the night in, the scenery around him changed gradually. The house got smaller. More homeless people sat on the ground muttering at him. He clutched a stake in his pocket, though he knew that would do little to protect him from the human dangers of the street. Finally he quietly opened the unlocked door of a small house. It smelled like urine and beer. Brian Hughes was asleep in a chair in front of a football game, beer cans and fast food bags littering the floor around him. Connor closed the door, locked it, and headed through the TV room to a small guest room. He took off his shoes and shirt and collapsed into the squeaky bed.