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I. Propaganda.
Mom had talked about Oxford. Giles wanted her to go to Oxford. Willow won't stop going on about Oxford, how her mom bought her one of those ridiculous undergrad gowns, how she still likes to wear it sometimes, because she feels like it makes her think better.
Whatever. This is a new world and she'll apply wherever the hell she likes. She's got the grades. And so maybe the watcher's life is calling, but that doesn't mean she has to follow in every tweedy footstep of her predecessors.
Or maybe she'll apply to Cambridge, just to really piss Giles off.
II. The Negative Space of Hot Beverage Condiments.
"You want Buffy but you'll settle for me? Wow, flattering. And hey, I was mystically created from her blood so it's almost like getting her. Bonus, huh?"
"Give me some credit!"
"For what?"
"Look, Dawn. The Buffy I fell in love with, she wasn't... But you! I..."
"Let me get this straight. I'm not a replacement for Buffy, but you're telling me your type robs banks? How is that better?"
"Just come for coffee. Once. Hell, as friends. If you don't swing you don't swing, but give me a chance. Please?"
"OK. Fine. But, for the record? I hate cinnamon."
III. Shadow Caster.
Everything would be fine with Satsu, Dawn was sure of it. No wacky spells. After all, she'd slept with Buffy and nothing bad had…
Groaning, though not very sexily, Dawn broke their kiss and shook her head. "Sorry." Why think of Buffy now?
Hands up her shirt, Satsu sighed. "It's fine." But then, smirking, she shifted herself higher round Dawn's hips, making her scabby-ass uni bed squeak beneath them. "Though you know I'm with you, right?"
Buffy who? Dawn thought as Satsu reached back to her bag, leg curling up Dawn's back. Goddamn, Slayers were flexible…
Wait. "Are those anchovies?"