He was here again last night. I know I'll have a hard time staying awake in school today, but it's so worth it. Good thing it's still cool out - I'll have to wear a turtleneck again to hide the bruises. It's funny how something that looks so ugly can be caused by something that feels so good.

It's been almost a month since he and Buffy had their big fight. Not that she told me, she never tells me anything, but I heard her crying in her room and I'm not as dumb as she thinks. I bet she said something really mean to him and now she's sorry. She's always saying mean things to me.

He never does. He's always been super nice, and he listens to me. And he's very mature, which is so cool. Not like the boys my age, who tend to be total dorks. He's really strong, a lot stronger than Xander, and older and smarter. Sometimes he brings a book with him and reads to me, poetry, or the French philosophers. It's so romantic.

He climbs in through my window at night after everyone else is asleep. We always try to be very, very quiet. I don't worry about Mom; she never notices anything. But Buffy's a lot harder to predict. She doesn't sleep very much - I know she sneaks out at night all the time. One of these days, she's going to get caught and be grounded for life.

But in the meantime, he usually waits until she's gone before he comes to see me. He says she'd kill him if he knew. I believe it, too. It's not easy having a psycho for a sister. The kids at my old school used to make fun of us all the time.

He never lets me visit him at his place. He says it isn't safe, that he doesn't want me walking alone at night. That's so sweet!

Once in a while he gets really quiet, with this faraway look in his eyes, and I know that he still misses her. That's when I make him feel better by doing that thing he likes the most. Sometimes it hurts, but I just close my eyes and go away in my head until it's over.

Buffy calls me a baby, but I'm tougher than she thinks.

The only problem is that he smokes, which is so gross. Of course I don't let him do that in my room - Mom would probably smell it, and then I'd be in trouble for sure even though I didn't do anything. But it means that he does smell kind of funny - like cigarettes and hair gel.

But I love the smell of warm, crushed leather that rises to my face when I sit in his lap. I love the scars he lets me trace with my fingers, the only imperfections in his pale, smooth skin. Once I asked if any of them were from things she did to him, but he said that she had only ever really wounded him *here*, and pointed to his chest, above his heart. Right next to that cross-shaped burn where his skin is all shiny and tight.

Buffy never tells me anything, not even what really happened between her and Angel. She thinks I can't keep a secret.

But I can.

xxx Dawn Summers

February 13, 1998

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Author's Note: There's more than one way to nail a puppy. This piece is meant to be dark, not titillating, and is not intended to promote the idea of consortion with minors.