She was bored, bored, bored with life in Cleveland.

She spent her days researching and trying to get some kind of authority over the ever swelling ranks of Slayers who treated her as inferior.

She felt like sneering that they weren't so special now. Not one chosen but many.

She however was unique.

She could open gateways to other worlds, translate obscure turkish and find it funny.

And hey, their weren't many people who could do either of those things let alone both.

She would creep around the old boarding house they had turned into slayer central in the dead of night. Slipping onto computers and making/recieving long distance calls to the one person who will let her moan about her day, who will insert witty comments.

The only other person who could translate obscure turkish texts and find it funny.

Wes.

****

Todays the day she can't take it anymore.

She's researched and researched till her brain is numb.

She's babysat irritating, condescending brats of slayers til she wanted to pull her hair out.

So when darkness falls, its out the window and a shimmy down the drainpipe with a letter left on the bedside cabinet.

And a one way plane ticket in her hand.

She needs a holiday somewhere in the sun.

***

Or, L.A.

She arrives on Wesley's doorstep with pointed shoes and a crumpled cigarette packet in her hand.

She doesn't look so much like a little girl lost anymore.

More like a woman grasping around to find her way.

He's sitting alone with a book and his top two buttons open.

"Come in." he says looking up, as if he was expecting her.

"Can I smoke in here?" she gestures to the crumpled cigarette packet.

"I didn't know you did. But you can. " He places a long unused ashtray on the table beside him.

"I didn't. I probably won't tomorrow. But I can't decide if I've lost myself today or if I'm being more myself than ever."

She lights her cigarette.

Flicker. Click.

Inhales with a certain grace and keeps her lipsglossed lips parted for a lingering moment longer than she should.

"How about some chess?" she raises her eyebrows and sits down across from him.

***

A bottle of wine, a pack of lipglossed smokes and a game of chess later.

(Dawn won.)

She looks up at him and sticks her tongue out.

"Beat ya."

He stands up and walks as if to the bathroom.

"I'll get you back."

"Pfff. How?"

"Like this..."

He throws his arms around her and tickles her and before you know it, their on the floor.

And before he knows it she's pinned him down and is pushing her lipgloss and nicotine lips down on his.

***

He is utterly fascinated by her slim, curvy naked form as she glides into the kitchen.

He never thought she'd be so forward.

He worries that she's only doing this in the same way that she took up smoking.

An experiment, a boredom cliche.

He already wants his hands on her again.

"Close your eyes" she purrs.

He does what he is told.

He opens them as melted chocolate is poured all over his stomach and she licks, licks, licks it all away.