Notes: YES! OC did it... Kind of a continuation of my Wanka series, but... Kinda not. It's DAWNEDY! Buahahaha! But no kissage or anything. Just Dawn drooling over Kennedy. So far, anyway I may be compelled to write more... And probably better than this, it was thrown together pretty quickly and I didn't bother to edit or spellcheck Plus it's SUPER short.




We had heard them shouting, we could clearly hear every word from downstairs. We had been training, and suddenly we heard Kennedy yelling, and we all fell silent, eavesdropping on their extremely loud conversation. She'd sounded hurt, but not too affected. Like she was mostly just mad that she'd been replaced, not like she'd gotten her heart broken. I'd been glad that it wasn't making her miserable.

We'd all seen it coming, I guess. It'd been clear that Willow and Anya were at least a bit attracted to each other, since Willow had gotten back. And then when she got with Kennedy, everyone was shocked. And I was somewhat disappointed. I could see what she saw in her... Even I couldn't deny it, Kennedy was extremely attractive. But she's younger, and Willow wasn't supposed to get with anybody, not this soon after Tara's death. I'd wanted to be the one to get close to the fiestiest Slayer in Training, to maybe learn something from her... But Willow took that away. I'd felt betrayed, for Tara and myself.

But nobody really cares about Dawn, do they? Especially not Dawn's interests in potential Slayers. Because they all assume Dawn sticks to her boys, and wouldn't be caught dead lusting after an "SiT". But I couldn't help that... It was an immediate thing. Her attitude, her looks, they way she talks... It just pulls you in, and you just have to stay mesmorized. It's not like Buffy could blame me... Now I get the way she used to stare at Faith. They're so similar in attitude... I just guess I really get it all now.

But oh, it's wrong, isn't it? Little Dawnie could never want a girl, especially not one that used to date Willow...

I still feel bad for her. Even though she acts like she doesn't care, I know she does. Maybe I could find her? See if she's doing alright? I wouldn't think it would be suspicious. I'm only looking out for her, right? And it's not like I don't know where she would be. Even Willow never noticed her tendency to escape to the backyard, while everyone was inside, and sit on the porch swing. I watched from Buffy's window one day, trying not to remember what had happened to Tara the last time she ever stood near it. And guiltily, I did forget, while watching her. She didn't look as confident or as commanding. She looked upset, and worn out. And I watched for a few moments, wondering how often she sat there, like that. But then Buffy came out the back door, and she stiffened up to the Kennedy we all know.

Sneaking out the back door, I try to make as little noise as possible. Not so nobody knows I'm leaving the house, but so Kennedy won't know I'm there. Sure enough, she's on that swing. And not the best of ideas, seeing as it's well past dark. But she doesn't even notice me walking up to her, staring at her tear-stained face. She seems to be done crying now, but her eyes are glassy and vacant, staring up to the sky.

"Kennedy?" I ask softly, trying not to scare her. But invading on her weakness time seems to always scare her, and she jumps to a sitting position, and gives me an evil look. "What?" she demands, clearly angry that I've witnessed her pain. I try and ignore the sting her annoyed voice gave me. "I just wanted to see if you're okay." She doesn't say anything in reply, only pierces me with those eyes, full of anger. "I'm sorry I intruded on you. But honestly, it's okay to be in pain, to be weak. We can't hold it in all the time." Her eyes narrowed more now. "Get out of here. Now," she spat, her voice still annoyed and bitter. "Look, it doesn't have to be this way..." "Now, damnit! Get out of my sight!"

I knew there were tears coming from my eyes, and I could see her face loosen slightly in satisfaction. She wanted to lessen her pain by causing me some.

I ran back to the house and burst through the back door, ignoring everyone who looked at me as I flew upstairs and locked my bedroom door, throwing my back against it and falling to the floor. I hope she wallows in rejection until she feels like jamming a knife through her stomach and twisting it, dying a horrible death. I may want every inch of her, but rejection has gotten the worst of me, just like her.