Chapter 3

It had actually worked; Xander could hardly believe it. He had just dusted two—yes, count 'em, two—vampires, in less than a minute. Now that the adrenaline rush was fading however, he started to wonder how he'd managed to do that. Well no, he knew how he'd done it, but still... It just wasn't something he'd expected to do with such ease; even Buffy often had more trouble with two vampires.

Okay, they hadn't been the brightest bulbs around, or in California for that matter, and he'd taken them by surprise. That reminded him of the girl he'd just saved. Once more turning away from the two piles of dust he focused back on her. Was she still in shock? She appeared to be about Dawn's age, but after telling him she was fine she hadn't said anything. Now, he'd be the first to admit that he didn't understand girls, but he'd at least expected her to ask the usual questions.

But she was just standing there, resting against the tree, while the wind was messing up her hair. Getting a little worried about her, he repeated his earlier question. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"What?" the girl asked, obviously having been shocked out of her thoughts. "I ah, yeah, I'm okay."

Well, she didn't look hurt or anything so she might be telling the truth. He wasn't a psychiatrist who could determine her mental state, but with a little luck she'd have forgotten about it by tomorrow. "Can I walk you home?"

Again his question seemed to interrupt her thoughts. "That'd be great. Thanks."

"No problem, my name is Xander by the way."

"Jane." A little curt wasn't she? Well, you could never really predict how people would react to the existence of vampires. But still, he was sure that by now Dawn would've been blathering. Although... Dawn had changed after finding out about the real world as well, she had become quieter and more introspective, maybe this girl was the same.

But even now, after he'd offered to walk her home, she wasn't moving. Instead she continued staring into the darkness of the night, and he rather doubted she was doing so because she enjoyed the night air. Was she thinking about what just happened? Well, he couldn't blame her for that, but still... It would be so much easier for him if she'd just do the denial thing and forget anything strange had happened.

"So, where do you live?"

Still distracted by whatever thoughts she had, she only waved one of her hands in the direction he'd just come from. "Over there."

Okay, well he wasn't about to leave the little girl alone no matter the risks for himself, so he'd already resigned himself to a walk like that; but was it too much to ask for some good directions? "Could you perhaps, you know, be a bit more specific?" Oh, yeah. Way to go Xander, kick the little girl while she's down.

Fortunately, the girl hadn't noticed his very wrong comment. "T-they can be killed with wood, right? Does it really have to be in the heart?" For the first time, the girl looked him in the eyes, and while her tone of voice was almost perfectly normal—a little more so than he'd expected actually—the look in her eyes belied that normality. Jane was obviously scared out of her wits.

"Uh, what?" Scared or not, he still needed to know what she was talking about.

"You put something in its face, right? What was that? A cross?"

Oh, that's what she was talking about. "Uh yeah, a normal cross."

"Is that because of the religious thing? Or because of the wood? But like I asked, doesn't that need to be in the heart?"

"I think it's because of the religious thing. And yes, they need to be staked in the heart. But why are you asking this?"

The look she sent in his direction was so close to the one that Dawn used whenever Buffy said something silly that it was freaky, and a little insulting actually. But when the girl started talking again he paid closer attention to her tone of voice, and this time Xander thought he could detect a hint of panic in it. "They were vampires, weren't they? What d'ya think I'm gonna do? Pretend that they like, don't exist or something? I need to know how to protect myself. I can't let this happen again. I just can't." The last part was almost whispered as she once again stared into space, reliving those terrible moments.

"You want to fight them?" The slight insult could be ignored, as could the fact that she obviously wasn't going to take the easy way out. But he was with Giles on this—little girls shouldn't fight vampires.

"What are you? Crazy, or something? If even half of what's said about vampires is true, they'd kill me in a couple of seconds," Jane answered, still in that barely contained voice. But the talking was probably needed to stop her from flipping out completely, so he had no intention of stopping the conversation.

"That's good." Running his fingers through his hair, Xander felt relieved. At least about the not fighting part, the rest of it was still as difficult as it had been minutes earlier. Why didn't girls like her come with a manual? It would've made this whole thing a lot easier, and, now that he thought about it, his conversations with Dawn as well. Why did he keep thinking about Dawn? He shrugged it off, maybe Jane reminded him of the girl that had a crush on him. As long as that wasn't repeated he'd be fine. One twelve-year-old with a crush he might be able to handle, two would really be pushing it.

"That doesn't mean I don't want to know how to defend myself against them. A repeat of tonight isn't exactly what I'm looking for, y'know," Jane said. "So, what else works against them?"

"Shouldn't we go to your house first? There might be more around."

"Oh yeah," Jane suddenly realized they weren't exactly in a safe spot. Before she spoke again, the girl hesitated however. "Ehm, I don't think I'd like to go through the park though."

"Why don't we walk around it? Just to be safe."

"Yeah, that'd be okay, I guess." After that hesitating answer she started talking in a more upbeat voice however. "So does garlic work? Or is that just something Hollywood came up with? I've been meaning to read Dracula for a while now, but I never got around to it. Oh, and the mirror thing is that true? Because it would go against the laws of nature, as everything is supposed to have a reflection, what with the way light reflects and all. Oh, light. Does sunlight really hurt them? Is that like an extreme reaction to ultraviolet radiation or something? Wouldn't sunscreen work for them then?"

Xander tried to answer the girl's questions, he really did. Well at first at least. But apparently she'd come out of her shock and decided to ramble on, and on, and on, and on, and...

XXX

"But I still don't understand how they could've turned into dust like that. I mean, it might make some sense if time suddenly caught up with them or something. But from the way they dressed they couldn't have died before the eighties at the most, probably even later than that. I'd have to ask Sara about it, she knows more about fashion than I do. But why did they dust?" Taking a short break to breathe in some of the cold night air, Jane prepared for her next torrent of words. She didn't really need any answers right now; what she wanted was something to distract her from the two revelations this night had brought.

Vampires were real. It didn't really make any sense, according to everything she'd ever heard or read that was supposed to be impossible. But that wasn't the real problem, after all, she believed in the scientific method. If the laws she knew were incorrect in explaining the real world, they were wrong, and others needed to be found. However, the other revelation was the one that hurt. She'd turned it over and over in her head, while standing there in the park, but she couldn't come up with another explanation.

Dawn had lied to her. Her best friend had lied to her and, unless Sara was in on it, to her other best friend as well. That meant the golden rule had been broken—the three of them weren't supposed to lie to each other, about anything. But it had happened, and in order to bury her pain at this betrayal she needed to be distracted. Other things could wait until she was able to deal with them.

"And talking about dusting, why is wood lethal to them? Is lethal actually the right word by the way? What with them already being dead and all," she trailed off as she suddenly realized they had reached her home. "Oh, look. We're home already."

"Oh, really?" Her poor rescuer looked relieved, and, well, she couldn't exactly blame him could she? She'd talked so much that her mouth felt dry, but if she stopped talking even for a moment, she'd think. And thinking was bad right now, as it reminded her of whose Christmas present Xander might've been.

"Yeah, come on. You can talk to my mom and dad," Jane said, while starting to drag Xander up the front path to her house.

"What? I could just leave you know. I don't think there's any reason for your parents to meet me." Yes there was, if she didn't have any proof of what had happened they might not believe her and leave her to think about things.

"Yes you do, they'll want to thank you for rescuing me."

"But..." Xander's protests came too late however as Jane had already pushed the doorbell and could hear someone approaching the door.

"Jane? Why didn't you use your key? And who's this?" Her mother asked, probably a little confused about the situation.

First rule in getting something from your parents; make them want to give it to you. "Mama!" Jane wailed, while throwing herself into her mother's embrace.

"Jane?" the woman asked, before turning her attention to Xander. "What did you do to her?"

"I didn't-" But Jane had no intention of letting the boy concoct a story. This was her family—things would go the way she wanted them to.

So she wailed again. "He saved me!"

"Saved you? From what? I'm sorry I accused you, why don't you come in where you can explain what's going on?"

"But I-"

"You didn't intend to leave without at the very least an explanation of what happened to my daughter did you?" See? Her mother was the best when it came to manipulation—in fact, the woman had probably already seen through her behavior.

"No, of course not. But-" Xander sounded more and more desperate, but, while Jane did feel a little guilty about what she was doing to him, she deemed it was necessary.

"Good, come in then." And the three of them walked into the living room, where she could see her father putting down the book he'd been reading.

Not waiting even a moment, she let go of her mother and ran into the comforting embrace of her father. A place she'd always felt safe from the monsters that shouldn't have existed. "Daddy!"

"Jane? What's going on? And Xander, what are you doing here?" He knew Xander? How could her father possibly know him?

Apparently her mother had the same thought. "You know him?"

"Yes, one of the men at the range brought him along today, to teach him how to use a gun. But what's going on? Why is Jane crying?"

Okay, time to interfere again before someone said the wrong thing. "Two men-," she started sniffling and had to start over.

"Two men attacked me on my way home from Sara. They scared me. I was afraid they'd try to kidnap me, or worse."

Everything else her parents could have been thinking about was forgotten, as they let out cries of sorrow and pain. "No! Oh, you poor girl." As her mother joined the embrace she started to feel even more safe and loved than she'd felt in the embrace of a single parental unit. And as the comforting continued she slowly started to feel better, as the fear she hadn't realized she was still feeling started to leave her body.

"But you got away, didn't you?" Her ever-practical father then asked.

Here it was, the chance to tell everything about what had really happened, but she stayed with the decision she'd taken earlier. No use in telling the whole truth, just enough that her parents had a good idea of what had happened.

"They had me trapped, I was really scared but I tried to fight them. It didn't work though, nothing you taught me worked against them," she hugged her father tighter. Then, to illustrate her next point, she pointed her finger at Xander. "But Xander came, and after he fought with them they disappeared."

"Thank you," her mother whispered to her rescuer, while continuing to caress her face.

"Yes, I don't know how we can ever repay you," her father added.

"Oh, no repaying needed." The poor boy really sounded distraught, and she had the nagging suspicion that he'd never really been thanked for anything. Well, while she needed him for a little distraction, she had no intention of letting him go away without anything that indicated how grateful she was to him for saving her life.

And from the short knowing looks her parents exchanged, Jane knew they had similar thoughts about that.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to escape that, young man. We are after all very grateful that you saved our daughter." Go mom! Make sure he gets his due.

"But really, there's no need-"

Once again he was cut off – this time by her father. "No arguments please, we'll do it anyway and I don't want you to distress Jane anymore. Why don't we talk about it while I drive you home?"

"You don't need to drive me home," Xander tried to protest, even though he had to know that he was fighting a losing battle.

"Nonsense, you must've gone out of your way to bring Jane here. I'll take you home," her father stated, in a tone Jane recognized as the one that made sure he'd get what he wanted.

XXX

As Dawn was walking through the shopping district looking for the presents she never got around to buying, a part of her was busy working on a very different matter. She hadn't expected to be immediately proficient in her use of the gun, but still, those first shots had scared her. She knew that her small gun didn't have that much recoil, but her weak body still had some trouble with it. Not to mention that practicing in the sewers here wasn't a very good idea anyway.

Compared to the sewers underneath Paris, these were cramped. Something that made using a gun inside them rather problematic. She didn't know if the loud noise was because of that size, or if it was another thing to blame on her body, but for once she had decided to give her body the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, she didn't have much choice concerning places where she could practice.

When her ears had actually started hurting though, she had continued her practice while using a silencer. That might not be very good for the silencer, but she had a couple of spares; something she couldn't say about her ears. But even that hadn't immediately improved her shooting as at first practically every shot had gone wide; her pathetically weak body hadn't been able to handle even the recoil of a small gun like hers.

It had taken most of Saturday, as big a portion of Sunday as she dared without arousing her father's suspicions, about half of the bullets she'd bought, and far too many painful muscles to reach even a barely acceptable level. But in the end she reached it. And the flaws that were still there would be fixed after a little more training, both physically and practice, so that shouldn't be a problem either.

Shouldn't. A great word, and unfortunately far too accurate in this case. Shouldn't wasn't the word that really belonged in that sentence. The right word would've been wouldn't, but she had already realized the big mistake she'd made on Saturday. She had been so focused on acquiring the weapons she needed that she hadn't really noticed the mess she'd made of her financial status.

The money she'd taken from Ethan's had been mixed up with whatever pocket money she still had left from before her grounding, and she'd spent most of it. So, now she was looking for gifts that she couldn't possibly afford. Gifts that she really needed to bring back to Sunnydale, both because it would stave off irritating questions, and, she realized with as much surprise as she was capable of feeling, because she wanted to buy them.

She, Noir, the terror of the underworld, the Grim Reaper, the thousand-year-darkness, wanted to buy presents for her friends. That had to be an aspect of the Dawn personality that obviously still had some influence, despite not being in control anymore. Or was it? Trailing to a halt outside a bakery she suddenly realized she was hungry, and besides, that question was ridiculous. It had already been proven that Dawn was too weak on her own, and needed her and the others to stay sane.

Digging into her pockets she took out the money she had left, and looked sadly at the few bills she had. It was barely enough to buy one present, let alone the minimum of four she needed. Five—she had to buy something for her father as well. Didn't she? Yes, she did, it would look far too strange if she didn't, even after he blew up at her. So, she needed more money, and she knew how to get it—but she wasn't ready for that.

Standing there staring at the money in her hand she probably made a strange sight, but as this was California barely anyone even noticed it. She stood there for several long minutes, trying to decide one way or another, until her stomach reminded her that she was indeed standing in front of a place that sold food. Walking inside she bought something to eat, but with her mind still churning things over she never really found out what it was that she bought. She was pretty sure she'd even paid for the food, but couldn't remember doing that either.

And so, within minutes, she was on the move again, walking past shops that sold the things everybody thought she'd come here for, but without paying any attention to them. She had a choice that needed to be made, and while mechanically eating whatever it was that she'd just bought, she tried to come to a decision. There wasn't much she could choose between though. Risk her life, or her cover.

What would the consequences of either choice be? Returning without any gifts would risk her cover. And were she to try a mission, it would surely cost her whatever innocence she had left. That thought finally managed to shake her from the strange state she was in. Since when did she care about her innocence? She had killed countless people; the young; the old; the weak; the strong; the innocent; and the guilty. Alright, in her current body she hadn't killed all that many, and one of them had been an accident.

But even that wasn't clear-cut—in her dreams she had killed countless more. Her dreams... Whoever sent them to her obviously wasn't deterred by the fact that she was now in Los Angeles. Last night she'd once again awoken after having been in the middle of a strange battlefield, one that was in a world where she had a different background. Where people knew who and what she was, and where she had actually been doing good.

Fresh scars had been present when she awoke, but like always they hadn't really mattered. That world, it had been so strange, and she fervently hoped that if it was real, it was at the very least an alternate reality. Because she really didn't want to discover that was the future of this planet. Luck was the only reason she had still been alive at the time her dream took place. Well... Luck and a healthy dose of survival instincts that had proven useful even against the robots sent to kill her.

No, once she was home she was going to do two searches on the internet. She'd try to find out if there was a project called Skynet, and if anyone named John Connor existed. If the world from her dream was the real one, well, what did she care whether the future would remain intact or not? If killing everyone connected to that project would ensure that her mother and sister wouldn't be nuked to death, it was a very small price to pay.

XXX

He had been so shocked the night before, both by the fact that he'd managed to so easily kill those two vampires, and the way everybody had reacted, that Xander had momentarily forgotten something important. It was only the next day that he remembered—after he'd woken up in what was still definitely the wrong place. While he still needed to talk to someone about the soldier thing, the intel he'd gathered the night before was important as well.

Intel? Was he starting to think like the soldier as well now? Did actually making use of the skills have that much of an effect on him? He really didn't like that, did he? His eyes widened at that ridiculous thought. Was he having conversations with himself now? Of course he didn't like it when someone messed with his mind.

But that hadn't been the most important thing; he really did have information the others needed to hear, so he'd called them all. Not that that action had endeared him to them, in fact Giles had been the only one who'd even shown a bit of civility. Okay, he should have remembered that not everybody was awake at half past six, but they really hadn't needed to bite his head off like that either.

And figuring they all needed some time before they'd arrive, he was surprised to find not only Giles already in the library when he arrived, but Buffy and Willow as well. "Hey guys."

"Xander, what was so important that you had to drag me out of bed for it in the middle of the night?" Buffy asked, still a little grouchy from a lack of sleep. But she had obviously believed him enough to come here despite that. And it was that sort of action that showed him that his friends appreciated his input, even when they didn't like the timing.

"Yes Xander, please tell us," Giles added his two cents, while sitting down at the table with the cup of tea he'd just made.

And of course, his favorite Willow had to chirp in as well. "Hi Xander." Short, but she probably figured the others had already asked what she wanted to know.

"Okay, straight to business it is then. But are you sure you don't want to wake up a bit more? You know, maybe do some exercises, or drink some coffee?"

"Xander," Buffy growled, obviously not amused by his antics. "I was sleeping very nicely when you called me. You do realize this is the last day before Dawn gets back, don't you? That means that it's also about the last day of my life that I can enjoy some peace and quiet in my own house."

"Oh, Buffy, she isn't that bad, is she?" Willow wanted to know.

A sigh, a deep sigh actually, followed that statement. "Wills, you know I love you right? You're my best friend and all, but you're a single child and couldn't possibly imagine the horror that is a little sister. The best days of my life are when she's not here, or grounded, since she actually was quiet during that time as well."

"Oh, she just never, you know, seemed that bad to me," Willow answered in a small voice, apparently as unsure about where that had come from as he was.

Buffy just sighed again, before letting her head drop down to the table. "Okay, I guess that came out totally wrong. It's not that I don't like her, but it's... Oh forget it, I'm just pissed because I wanted to sleep in. Now, Xander, talk."

Okay, she was obviously a little more awake now, and Xander had to suppress a smile about the way his friend had tried, and failed, to subtly change the subject. "Sure. It's like this. I was out last night, walking home through the park. Yes, I know I should've walked around it, but that doesn't matter." He didn't feel like getting lectured about that.

"Anyway, while I was walking I heard voices behind me, and, figuring they were vamps, I hid." Realizing that sounded rather pathetic, he altered the story a bit. "Ah, to try and listen what they were talking about of course. So, while I was listening to them they were having a discussion. Most of the stuff they talked about we already knew, like that Spike can't walk and that Drusilla's in charge now.

"But there was also something new. It seems that Drusilla is afraid of something in Sunnydale." And leaning back into his chair, he waited for that bombshell to get through to their fuzzy brains. He had actually debated telling them that he'd staked the vampires as well, but had finally figured that it wasn't that important. Buffy dusted more of them every night, so why would they care if he took out another two? There were thousands more to go.

"T-They really said that Drusilla was afraid of something?" Giles asked him, obviously surprised by that.

"You mean there's actually something that can scare that psycho?" was what Buffy wanted to know, and Willow, ever practical, asked the question that was of course the most important.

"What is she afraid of then?"

"That's sorta the problem, I don't really know." Seeing them open their mouths he waved them shut, and was slightly surprised when it worked. "Oh, they named it, or her, the Green Lady, but I don't have a clue what, or who, that is. Which, of course, is the reason I asked you here. All-knowing G-man, do you know what it is?"

Giles was obviously deep in thought about whatever it could be, but before he could say anything Buffy had suddenly made a connection he hadn't figured out yet. "Green? Like in the green thingie that killed Angel in my dream?"

Oh yeah, wow, something that was good for two reasons. No Xander, Angel is on your side, remember. And besides, you've got Cordy now and don't need to feel bad about Deadboy getting the girl. "Uh, I don't know. Could be."

"Quite, you might very well be right about that connection Buffy. And as we now have a name to work with, we might be able to find out some more about this Green Lady." Giles said, while polishing his glasses.

Buffy suddenly seemed to realize where this was actually leading to, and was, since she was as fond of research as he was, looking for an excuse to get out. Unfortunately for both of them, none presented itself. And while Xander had resigned himself to spending his first real day of the break immersed in the books, he too had to stop a sigh of despair from escaping his lips.

Never let it be said that saving the world was boring. After all, in between the long hours of research there was actually time to do... Yes, even more research. Taking the book Giles handed him, Xander wondered once again why anyone would actually want to do this whole world saving thing. If he hadn't known a little about the place, he would've said that research was as boring as hell.

Unfortunately of course, the problem was that hell wasn't boring. But that kind of thing wasn't what he was supposed to think about, so he devoted his attention to the boring words—probably written in a boring time, by a boring priest who died in a boring way.

XXX

Okay, she was back. Dawn looked at the entrance of the alley she knew would lead her to the part of the city that would allow her to earn money. Not that she was really convinced this was her best option, but still...

Had she been anyone else, she would most likely have taken a deep breath before stepping into the alley, but there was no reason here to pretend she was anybody else. So, she took the path that would, undoubtedly, end up leading to her doom with the same lack of expression that had characterized her earlier journey there. With the only exception being that this time she wasn't here to buy something, but to offer her, or as far as anyone would know, her boss', services.

As Dawn walked through this part of the city, looking for Dave, she noticed that her reputation had preceded her already. Twice, a gang member had headed her way, only to be stopped by one of his friends. They looked perplexed when they actually backed off, obviously not really believing that a little girl like her could take down Tony's bruisers. But while they might not really believe, they didn't bother her either. Which was a very good thing for them, as she had no intention of fooling around. She was armed with decent weapons this time, and if anyone would have actually disregarded the warnings, they might not have survived.

But that still didn't tell her where Dave was, and she reckoned that while she could keep on walking around, that probably wouldn't do her any good. So, she needed to ask someone. But who? According to the boy everybody knew him, but that didn't say much and might just have been the usual grandstanding boys were prone to.

On the other hand, if he had been telling the truth that meant she could ask anyone. Which in turn meant that she might as well put that statement to the test. Asking one of the gangs would mean they'd think that she was dealing from a position of weakness, and she couldn't afford that with those people. She might be able to hit what she aimed for in a practice situation, but, despite her experience, she doubted that would be the case in an actual fight.

Why she still decided to do a mission was therefore almost incomprehensible to her, but she simply didn't have a choice. But if she couldn't ask people on the streets, that only left entering a building and asking her questions there. The unsavory looks of the houses around her didn't really inspire confidence in actually acquiring the information she needed, but, as with the mission thing, her choices were rather limited.

. . . .

The building she eventually decided on was a bar, the sign was partly faded, but she could still make out part of the name. The Corsican something. Corsica, birthplace of Mireille. Shaking of the unwanted memories she focused back on the building. Well, a name like that could only be a good sign, couldn't it?

Opening the door she smelled the expected mix of alcohol, tobacco, and other substances she'd rather not identify. It looked like a fairly typical bar where the underworld could go about their business in neutral territory. The tables were spaced far enough from each other to make listening in fairly difficult, and at the back were a couple of screened spaces as well. Yep, she had been right, the ideal place to do business while enjoying a drink.

And, naturally, a place where nobody expected to see a little girl walking in, looking as if she didn't have a care in the world. Well, if it was that kind of place, why wouldn't she enter just like that? Ignoring the strange looks from the customers, she immediately went to the normal place for information. The bar. Of course, it would have been nice if it wasn't almost as high as she was, but appearance wasn't that important anyway.

Unfortunately, the barman had other ideas about that. "What's a little girl like you want here?"

"Information."

The burly man had to grin about that, he really wasn't taking her serious was he? "Hey guys, the little one wants some info. Wanna help me out here?"

Immediately one of the guests spoke up. "Sure thing Fred, what does she want?"

"Directions to her nursery?" a second one answered.

As the laughter broke out behind her, Dawn remained stoic. It didn't matter what these people thought of her, she didn't care how they tried to make fun of her. She wouldn't be embarrassed, embarrassment only happened when you let it, so she had two choices; play along, or ignore it.

The Dawn personality would probably have played along, that she was pretty sure of, but the Kirika one that was in charge didn't know how to do that. Therefore she just ignored it, and waited until the barman once again focused on her. "Move along kiddo, there's nothing for you here. In fact, from what I can see of you this isn't the sort of neighborhood you should hang around in."

As if she could be so easily deterred. "I need information."

"Kid, you don't want any of the information anyone here could give you. Go home and play with your dolls. The best you could get here is being paid for spreading your legs, and I really doubt you'd want that. Now, shoo." He waved his arms to indicate she should leave.

Why did everybody keep underestimating her? Hadn't they learned that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover? Obviously not, now then what else could she do? The violent route was still open, but in here that option was even worse than against one of the street gangs. There was no place she could stand without people being able to come at her from behind. In the end she simply decided to ask her question. "I'm looking for Dave, a kid, about fourteen years old, claims everybody knows him."

Silence, utter silence was what greeted that statement. Where before people had been talking, they had all stopped doing so and were now openly checking her out. Not in the same way some of them had when she entered, no, these were assessments of her skills, attempts to understand how she had been able to deal with the bruisers.

"You're the kid that beat up Paul and Stan," one of the men behind her stated.

"Yes," Dawn answered, without bothering to turn around.

"They're friends of mine."

"I'm sure the hospital has visiting hours." She had no intention of starting an argument, but if the guy wanted one, well... She'd definitely be the one to finish it.

But no, she realized that the tone of his voice wasn't that of someone bent on revenge. While there was danger, it wasn't coming from this man. Raising her eyes to the mirror behind the barman, she studied the people sitting at their tables, waiting for her target to make his move.

When it happened it was clumsy, a desperate attempt by an incapable amateur. It was almost an insult to watch how the man drew his gun, but the insult was lessened by the fact that he apparently believed a gun was necessary to deal with her. There were two ways this could go now, she either ended it immediately or it would become an all-out bar-brawl.

An object lesson was required; a single action that clearly told everybody it was unwise to try anything. It had to be fast, skillful, and, most of all, brutal. Those were the thoughts that flashed through her head, and as she turned around to face him her plan was ready. She couldn't risk anything with her gun, she just wasn't comfortable enough with it yet, which left the only ranged weapon she had been able to practice these past months.

Her right hand disappeared in the sleeve of her left arm and, before anyone could actually see what she took hold of, the small throwing knife was flying through the air. The only thing that she'd had to really think about during this whole encounter was whether or not to kill the guy. It was an object lesson though, and people more readily remembered things when the person they happened to was still alive.

So when the knife reached its target, the man let out a cry of pain and while going to his knees, cradled the hand holding his gun. The gun that couldn't be fired, because it had a small knife lodged in between the grip and the trigger. A knife that had also penetrated his index finger, which wasn't in too good a shape anymore either.

Once again silence reigned in the bar, until one of the guests started laughing and was quickly joined by most of the others. "Hey kid, you're alright you know that."

"Yeah girlie, that was fun." It had worked, these people accepted her now in a way that she needed. Of course, she wasn't ready yet.

"Good, now then. Can I have my knife back?" This was the part where she was taking the greatest risk. Ignoring everything hadn't worked earlier, so now it was time for option number two. Have the Dawn personality wrap these criminals around her finger; it wasn't something she wasn't capable of doing, but it would mean opening herself up. How would that weak personality react? Would she be terrified, or would she be able to go through with what needed to be done?

"You want your knife back?"

"Of course, I paid for it y'know." Oh god, what was she doing here?

One of the men started sniggering, but answered her anyway. "You've got balls kid, I've got to admit that. You've got quite a pair of balls."

"Really?" Dawn raised her eyebrow, hoping none of these thugs realized that all she wanted to do was run away as fast as her legs could carry her. "I've gotta admit that I didn't notice them last time I took a shower."

"Oh yeah, I was right. You're alright kid. As quick with your mouth as with your weapons. You'll do well out here," one of the men that had spoken earlier said. "Let me buy you a drink, what d'ya want? Chocolate milk?"

Chocolate milk? How old did he think she was? Five? "A nice red wine will do."

A questioning eyebrow was raised at that, and she had to admit she wasn't really certain about it either. She had never really drunk alcohol, and while Kirika used to drink in her own body, Dawn wasn't sure if she could handle it. But ordering a non-alcoholic drink might ruin everything she'd just accomplished. "Of course, Fred?"

"One red wine coming up."

"Perfect," the man smiled at her, before turning around and walking to her downed target. "How are you doing, Kyle?"

"That bitch hurt me, and I'm gonna kill her." Was he now? Oh well, people who made that kind of statement before disappearing from the face of the world were good object lessons as well. Had she just thought that? That was the kind of thing one of the other personalities might have come up with, not her.

"Don't be ridiculous Kyle. She's way better than you."

"I'm gonna waste her Neil, and there ain't nothing you can do to stop me." Someone was threatening to kill her... Dawn started to realize she might really be in trouble with the injured guy, but she couldn't let that stop her now. One wrong move and it wouldn't matter what that guy planned to do, she'd be dead already.

"Oh well," Neil said, before bending even closer and ripping the knife out of Kyle's finger, aggravating the injury and causing the man to cry out again. When he returned with it to her, the wine had arrived as well, but she let him talk before trying it. "Some fools just don't know when to quit, do they? Here's your knife, you might want to clean it first though."

"You mean you won't do that for little ol' me?"

"Don't push it girlie." Ah, so there were limits to what she could get away with. Sipping the wine she resisted the urge to make a face at the sour drink. Either she really wasn't used to the taste anymore, or she had just received a glass of the worst vintage in existence.

"Now, what do I owe this drink to?" Time to do what she had been called for.

"Like I said, you're alright. And when I meet someone I like to find out a little more about them."

"So this is out of the kindness of your heart?"

He snorted at that, the response she figured he would expect her to expect. Man, this was getting complicated. "Hardly. Like I said, I want information."

"When it comes to that, you're not the only one."

"Well, I'm sure you'll get your information once I've found out a little more about you." She felt a fake smile appear on her face, and the Dawn personality retract, when everything about this clicked. It was so obvious, the suddenly nice man, the free drink, and his difficulty in stopping himself from asking her to drink faster. She wasn't sure if it was the reason for the bad taste of the wine as well, but it was pretty obvious it contained sodium pentathol.

"This isn't going to work, y'know." She was in full control again, and had no more need for social niceties. If they didn't play nice, neither would she.

"What isn't?" Neil tried to salvage the situation.

"Be like that, I'm not really thirsty anymore though. Would you like to finish my drink?"

"Nah, wine ain't exactly my thing."

"That's too bad, oh well. You can't have everything, can you?" And in a way that looked perfectly normal, and accidental, she dropped her nearly full glass to the floor. It might not contain a truth serum after all; maybe they had only been after her fingerprints. Not that it mattered, they wouldn't get anything now. "Oops, sorry 'bout that."

Stepping forward, she crushed the remaining bits of glass into even smaller parts, before repeating her earlier question. "But I'm not here for chitchat; I want to know where Dave is. And from your earlier reactions, you all know who he is, and probably even where he is."

Fred spoke up then, obviously not really happy about the thing with the glass, but more than willing to get rid of her. "Yes, we know Dave. But rumor has it that he's in trouble."

Now, why didn't that surprise her? "In trouble how?"

"He went where he shouldn't go, he tried to find out things that he shouldn't know. It's always the same with him. Except that this time, they figure he has some info on you. And that is why they haven't let him off with a beating."

"They're keeping him somewhere, until I go and rescue him?" That was ridiculous, what kind of moron came up with that plan? Part of her was already busy figuring out how to find someone who could replace Dave, but then the Dawn part of her became more pronounced.

She had to help him. What? Dawn wondered why the fate of a single person was suddenly important enough for the original her to make an appearance this strong. In fact, she had to fight to retain control over the body. A fight that she couldn't win, as the other her knew it far better. The fight was short, but that was mainly because the other subsided. Unfortunately the message was clear—she could lose the body anytime. And if she didn't help Dave that was exactly what would happen.

"Fine," she bit out, allowing some emotion to come forward. If that's what needed to be done to remain in charge here, that's what would happen. And the fools that thought to stand against her would learn why that was their stupidest idea ever. Raising her eyes to look Fred straight in the face, she asked him. "Who has him, and where do they keep him?"

Maybe they even had some money; that would spare her the trouble of looking for a mission that could be done tonight. But she could think about that later, as Fred had started talking about her latest targets.

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Post-fic comments: Okay people, first of all I hope you liked this chapter as well and thank you all for reviewing the others. It's always nice to see people enjoy the story enough to take the time to send feedback.
On another note, the next chapter will of course arrive in two days, Saturday, but... (yes, there's a but). There are two versions of that chapter. The original version I wrote, and the one that I toned down a little. According to my beta the violence in the original was at least R-rated.
Now then, I'll post the PG-13 version here, but on the DawnHalloween group (link is in my profile) I'll also post the other one. The plot is the same, everything that happens is the same, the only difference is the description of those events. You can all decide for yourself which one you'll read, but I don't want to post the same story twice here so you'll have to go elsewhere for the harder version.
Anyway, now we'll go on to the replies on feedback.

The Unicorn: Will you believe that I actually knew the 9mm bit? Can I blame the typo on being a bit busy while I wrote it? Anyway, I didn't know how big .40 actually was, so thanks for that info. I have used some of your comments about the sewers in this chapter (see? Sending feedback works.), but I'll have to think about where I'll let her practice in Sunnydale. The sewers are out, both because of the reasons you gave and the fact that they're inhabited, and, while it would make a nice scene, I don't see Dawn walking into the firing range anytime soon.
Making her own bullets, it's a thought. I don't know how they got their bullets in Noir, but I'm pretty sure her training covered making them. Of course, how she'd go about that would be a bit hard. Dawn might be able to hide a gun in her room, but if she kept equipment there for making bullets... Well, I think Joyce would start asking some very uncomfortable questions.
Xander's martial arts. Well, he only has the memories of the soldier, so he's not a martial artist. I did remember the U.S. Military has its own style, but I wasn't sure how much that differed from a normal one. I'll see how I'll handle that part, but as it doesn't interfere with this story I'll probably do some research first.

physicsteach: Thanks for pointing out the problems. Okay, the OOC-ness; at the moment Dawn isn't really in charge of her own body. Sure, she has some input, as could be seen in this chapter, but she's still coming to terms with everything that she's done, and while doing that she is hiding a little from the real world. That will become less so in the future stories, as the personalities continue to merge, and I hope I'll get her more like the Dawn from the show.
Xander, I think I got him better in this chapter, even though there were only a couple of scenes with him. But I'll try to do better anyway. And with the comma's; I'm trying, and it's getting better, but it's something I have some trouble with.

jen30: I think that's a first, a review on a chapter someone hadn't completely read yet. :-) Okay, the twenty years thing probably was originally a reference to Dark Angel, but as I decided that world won't be showing up in an UC fic, but actually gets its own series, that's no longer the case. So, it was a generic twenty years in the future dream...
And does Dawn still feel the same way as toward the end of Dark, Darker,...? I wasn't entirely sure what you meant, about Cordelia or just generally, but the answers are the same. Yes, she still feels the same, she's not happy with Cordy for stealing Xander from her and Kirika is still more or less in command of her body.