"Gotta say, Dawny, I am a little jealous of you. All that time you got to spend with Spike. He's a charming guy. As if being a total babe wasn't enough."

"He changed you," Dawn says with her angry, guttural voice.

"And now you're jealous of me. Still the only one without power. That's gotta suck." Dawn glances to her left and right. "Looking for something to stake me with? Even if you had something, you still couldn't take me. We both know that." Kit puts her right hand around Dawn's throat and with her left hand rips off the crucifix hanging from her neck. Dawn kicks Kit in the stomach, which has no effect. Then she digs her nails into Kit's right forearm, causing her to let go. "Ow. That's no way to treat a friend," Kit says with a wicked smirk.

"Touch me again - "

"And what? Buffy will kill me? Or, we could all try to kill her together. Don't worry, Dawny. I don't wanna kill you. I wanna share my power with you. Maybe then you'll finally get respect." Dawn slaps Kit with her right hand. Kit laughs and goes bumpy. When she runs at Dawn, Dawn tries to throw her. But Kit hangs on, reverses the throw and hurls Dawn into a wall. "Don't you wish you could do that?" Dawn runs to her right. Kit cuts her off. "You know better than that. Dawn drives the heel of her right palm into Kit's nose, then runs the other way. Kit smarts from the blow before giving chase. She tackles the screaming Dawn and pins her down. "You're really making me rethink my options." Kit licks Kit blood from under her nose. "On the other hand, this chase is kinda fun." She holds Dawn's arms down as she struggles and her legs thrash. "We'll make a great team." Kit leans in to bite the right side of Dawn's neck.

"Help!!," she screams, seemingly in vain. But then, an instant after Kit's fangs pierce her skin, the ex-best friend disintegrates. Above her stands a scrawny teenage boy in a black short-sleeve t-shirt, a gray long-sleeve t-shirt and faded jeans, holding a stake in his right hand.

"You okay?," he asks, holding out his left hand. Dawn rolls over and cries uncontrollably. "It's okay. You're fine now."

"No I'm not," Dawn says in-between sobs as she slowly stands up, tears streaming down her face. "That was my best friend."

"You mean before she was a vampire?" Dawn does not appreciate the insensitive remark.

"Do I look like I like vampires?"

"Me neither." Connor stands to Dawn's right, both of them leaning against the wall.

"And the worst part is, the bastard who did this to her is still out there. Safe."

"Do you mean Spike?" Dawn stops crying and looks surprised. She puts her right index and middle fingers to Connor's neck for a few seconds before pulling them back.

"Sorry. You never know."

"It's okay. I'm used to people treating me weird."

"How do you know Spike?"

"I tried to kill him."

"Is that how you got those bruises?"

"Yeah. He's got someone protecting him. Too bad your friend didn't." Dawn sees that as a welcome swipe at her sister for failing in her role as protector. She now knows this boy got beat up by Buffy (and he doesn't even have super powers – what a bully she is!). But she missed Angel's appearance, she wasn't told about what transpired last night, so in her mind Connor is a nearly-helpless innocent.

"What are you doing here? Not that I mean that in a, suspicious way."

"Trying to kill vampires."

"You killed one. Thanks. You kind of, no, you actually did, save my life."

"It's what I do."

"What?," Dawn asks with a chuckle.

"I fight. I kill. It's who I am." Okay, that was a little disconcerting.

"You kill . . . vampires?"

"Demons, too."

"Isn't that dangerous?," a shocked Dawn asks.

"Life's dangerous."

"Especially around here." On a roof of the building behind Connor, Janice watches and listens.

"I've been in worse places." Connor steps away from the wall, turns round and looks at Dawn. He takes off his t-shirt and hands it to her. "Here. Your face is all puffy."

"Thanks," Dawn replies sarcastically. Such a nice boy. Yet so insensitive. She wipes the tears from her cheeks. "You should get some of those bruises looked at. You mighta broke something."

"I don't break." Janice leaps off the roof, lands on Connor's back and wraps her arms around his chest, taking him completely by surprise.

"We'll see about that." Janice bites the left side of his neck. Connor's never been bitten before, so his initial sensation is terror. He tries to pull her arms off his chest, but she's got a pretty tight hold. Connor leaps fifteen feet back into a wall, hoping this will shake her loose. Dawn assumes it's the adrenaline. Connor fails to break free. Meanwhile, the loss of blood is weakening him. He drops the stake. Dawn rushes over and pulls the vampire's hair, causing Janice to finally let go. When she gets up, Dawn kicks her face with her left foot, sending Janice back two steps. "He talks tough, but he tastes so tender."

"Janice!?," Dawn asks with a look of shock and devastation.

"You wanna fight with me over him?," she asks, licking her lips. "Funny, we've always had different tastes in boys. Of course, this one tastes really good. Better than the first two guys I ate tonight. Damn! What are they feeding you!?" Connor slowly gets up off his knees. He looks down for his stake, but Dawn kneels and picks it up with her right hand, stepping in front of Connor.

"Janice. Don't make me - "

"As if you could! Don't make me waste my appetite on you. Let me have the main course, and I'll let you live."

"Go," Connor whispers from behind. "I can take her." Dawn reaches back, puts her left hand on his chest and pushes back the lightheaded Connor, who trips and falls down.

"If that's the way you want it, Dawny." Janice grins and leaps at Dawn, who sticks out her right arm and stakes the careless vampire through the heart. Dawn looks at the stake and starts crying again.

"Why are you crying? You killed a vampire." Connor always thought that was a happy thing.

"Janice. He got Janice."

"You knew her?"

"She was my best friend." Connor appears puzzled.

"You have two best friends?"

"Last year. At my old school. I met Kit in September. Janice and me, we, we grew apart, but still . . . " Her talking dissolves into sobbing. Connor picks up his black t-shirt and brings it over.

"Here."

"Thanks." Dawn blows her nose in it, which Connor doesn't seem to mind. She turns around. Connor's much paler than before, though his lips are still bright red. "You really should go to a doctor. I think you lost a lot of blood."

"I'll be okay. Thanks to you." They both smile awkwardly. Dawn reaches out with her left hand and wipes away some of the blood on his neck with his black shirt.

"Guess I owed you," she replies. They stand there in silence for a few seconds. Dawn drops the shirt and starts to faint, but her back hits the wall and she stays up. "I'm okay. It's just . . . the shock." Dawn sighs in resignation. "I don't know why I'm so surprised. Seems like everyone I care about gets taken away sooner of later."

"Me too."

"You've lost friends?"

"Never had any. But my mom died. She, killed herself. My father, I mean, my stepfather, he did the same thing."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? You had nothing to do with it." Dawn pauses.

"So you're all alone. What do you do? Ya know, to get by."

"Hunt. Scavenge. Just like I always have."

"I didn't know there were hunter-scavengers left in Southern California," Dawn weakly jokes. "What about school?"

"They didn't have those where I grew up."

"Where's that? Amish country?"

"Quor-Toth."

"Never heard of it. Is it in Alaska?" She figures his parents were burnt-out hippies who wanted to get back to nature. Of course, a flower child is the last thing anyone would accuse Holtz of being. Connor knows answering such questions will only invite more questions. He reaches his left hand out, grabs the stake in Dawn's right hand and tries to pull it way. But she hangs on, and their fingers touch.

"Can I have my stake back?"

"I think I should hang onto it until you're better." Their hands rock back-and-forth a few more times before he lets go. "I need to take you to a hospital."

"No you don't."

"You need blood."

"I can make my own." To Connor, the idea of having someone else's blood put into his body smacks of vampirism. And since he doesn't know about transfusions, he's guessing she wants to drink the blood.

"You're still pretty weak." She pushes Connor and he almost falls down.

"I'll feel better once I have something to eat. Is there any food around here?"

"There's a Store 24 about two blocks up." Right near the Bronze, it occurs to her. How horrible, to be considering that at a time like this, Dawn thinks. They start to walk. "You look a little shaky." She puts her left arm around his waist. He puts his right arm around her shoulder.

"You're right. It's better this way," he says with a smile. Dawn continues to feel guilty, as if she's exploiting Connor's situation.

"Usually I ask for a guy's name before I put my arms – arm – around him. Not that I've put my arms around a lotta guys."

"Connor."

"I'm Dawn."

"Dawn. The end of the darkness."

"And, also, my name," she replies bashfully. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital? If you're worried that they'll ask questions, they won't. This is Sunnydale. They're used to it."

"I can take care of myself. So you . . . you uh, fight demons a lot?"

"More than I'd like to. But it's not like a thing I do every night. Actually, that's the second vampire I ever staked."

"You looked like you knew what you were doing."

"Yeah. Looked. Appearances aren't reality. Whoa-whoa-whoa. You're not going into the store looking like this. They'll think you're a junkie. Let me get you something."

"I can handle it."

"I don't have any money on me. But give me what you have, tell me what you want - "

"Spend money? On food?" Connor laughs and walks into the store alone.

"Perfect. Just perfect." Now he's going to get himself caught for shoplifting. Connor goes from aisle to aisle, picking out things and glancing at the concave mirrors and security cameras. When the cashier busies himself with ringing up a paying customer's purchases, Connor slips into the storeroom and out the back door. The customer walks out the front door. The cashier could have sworn there was a young man in the store. He goes over to the side wall.

"Dawn. Hey Dawn!," he whispers. She sees him.

"What are you doing?"

"Come here." Now she was an accomplice. Connor sits and gulps down a liter of apple juice, two ding-dongs, a sno-ball and a twinkie in about fifteen seconds.

"On a health kick," she jokes.

"Want some?" He breaks his last twinkie in half.

"No thanks." Then she worries about appearing rude. "On second thought." She takes it. He eats the other half, and chases it with a bottle of grape soda. "First rule of shoplifting: don't hang around after." Connor finishes the soda and belches. Evidently no one taught him manners. That doesn't surprise her.

"Shop-what?"

"You know - what you just did. Stealing." She laughs and sits down to his left. "Is this what you call scavenging?"

"The food doesn't fight back. If it did, I'd call it hunting." Dawn laughs. He has such a quirky sense of humor.

"You're strange. I mean that in a good way. Who wants normal? Normal's boring."

"But it's easy, right? You get to rest. You get to be safe."

"No one's really safe." Dawn doesn't know what that means, but it sounds to her like it makes sense. Connor pulls out a package of bandages he lifted from the store. "Oh. Good. You got something for your – here, allow me." She puts the large square bandage over the large wound.

"Thanks." He tugs lightly on the bandage. Never wore a sticky one before." Dawn notices that Connor's color is returning awfully quickly. Also, the bruises Buffy gave him appear much smaller than they did just ten minutes ago.

"Your shirt," Dawn says, recalling that she dropped it.

"That's okay. I still got one on." Dawn finds herself thinking about Connor with no shirt on, which seems deeply inappropriate. How could she think of scoring at a time like this? And yet her eyes wander over to the marquis at the Bronze.