A/n: The challenge was a Kennedy/Dawn story of any rating and here goes. Happy birthday, Barnabas. I doubt this is what ya had in mind with the pairing in question, but it's what Lou Reed's greatest hits inspired.


Dawn took a deep drag and dropped what little was left of the cigarette onto the dirty asphalt.

Walking out through the mouth of the alleyway onto the street, she almost knocked poor Candy off her feet. Dawn had her doubts about the authenticity of that name, but then again, her own sister was named Buffy. Maybe her parents had been hippies?

Of the many girls to walk this particular street, Candy was probably the youngest and most definitely the least well-adjusted one. The fact that she was young didn't stop the customers, hell, it seemed to work to her advantage if anything. Where the money went, Dawn didn't know. Not to food, judging by how her ribs were visible even through the shirt.

"You OK there, Candy?" She asked. The girl didn't answer, but kept on walking. She looked steady enough to make her way wherever she lived, though, and Dawn decided to leave it be.

How a girl that young had ended up walking the streets, she didn't know. It was too depressing to ask. Mostly it was the same, a generally shitty upbringing combined with naivety.

And herself? Well, neither as far as she was concerned. She'd gotten tired of her sister after only a few weeks in Scotland. Tired of everyone worshipping the very ground she walked on.

The plan had been to go to London and work. Live a little. Let Buffy worry. Let them all worry. But things rarely go according to plan and this definitely hadn't. She'd managed to find a work and a roomie. Some stupid virgin of a guy studying to be an English teacher. For all his annoying similarity's with Andrew, he wasn't too bad.

Didn't push, though his eyes followed her when he thought he could get away with it.

She'd found him about a week before the first night. She'd been out to make good use of the fact that she was of legal drinking age in Britain and after many drinks she'd been offered some cocaine by some seedy looking guy she didn't even know. She probably would've declined if she had been sober, but she wasn't. She'd told herself as she woke up the next day that it had been a fun one-time thing. But one time had turned into many, and very soon she was stuck with a habit her job couldn't pay.

Speaking of, she needed to get back to work herself. Blow wasn't cheap, even if you screwed your dealer for a discount, and she was all out.

"So they call you Mary here, huh?" The voice was familiar and Dawn looked up from her handbag which she had been digging through.

The woman before her was tan, with dark hair and eyes and a "I-don't-give-a-fuck-what-you-say" attitude almost written on her forehead.

Kennedy. Oh, joy.

The nickname Mary was something she'd gained due to her habit of wearing a silver cross round her neck. It wasn't some new-found religious streak, of course, just a way to know if her would-be client was interested in getting sucked or doing the sucking themselves. It had already saved her twice.

"Looking for a bit of loving, are we Ken?"

A look of annoyance flashed across the brunette's face. Dawn knew she hated that nickname.

"I'm looking for you. We all have been. For almost two months."

"I'm fine," Dawn said irritably, pulling Kennedy down the alley she had exited a few minutes prior. "I don't need for you or anyone to come and rescue me from anything. Go away."

She gave Kennedy a shove, but that obviously didn't do any good.

Right, what then? The answer came to her a moment later when she caught Kennedy's eyes slide down to the generous amount of cleavage her top showed.

Of course. She had entertained a woman or two, even if it was a definite rarity.

But this she could work with. Last thing she remembered, Willow's and Kennedy's relationship had been really rocky.

"I'm sure we can make a deal, Ken," she said softly, taking two steps forward and pressing her body to the slayer's.

"Isn't there something I can give you…?" The last words Dawn whispered with her lips only barely touching Kennedy's earlobe.

She both felt and heard the sharp exhale against her throat. Success

Feeling daring enough to take things a step further, she slid her hands down Kennedy's back, over her thighs and ass. It's obviously working in the conventional way, but she was also looking for the slayer's wallet.

Out of pure spite, she was planning on making the annoying bitch come so hard she won't even notice it's gone.

"Dawn, I'm - I don't think."

Her first method of choice to silence the other girl would've been a kiss, but she hadn't brushed her teeth since the other night and the chewing gum had run out yet another night before. Instead she pushed her thigh in between the muscular denim clad ones of her client.

It really must have been a while for Kennedy, because it didn't take her much more than a minute or two once she got down to business.

Getting the wallet with her left hand from the pants at the slayer's knees hadn't been too much trouble either.

Smirking to herself as she wiped her face off with her sleeve, Dawn made to walk away, but only made it three steps before a strong hand seized her arm.

Fucking slayer stamina.

Dawn tugged, but the grip wasn't relinquished. In her other hand, Kennedy had a walkie-talkie. To Dawn, it was almost as bad as a loaded gun pointed in her direction.

"Yeah, I've got her. We'll meet you up at checkpoint B."

Giving up her attempts at regaining her freedom, Dawn cursed Kennedy's name.

When they got back to Scotland, she was going to tell Willow exactly what they'd done. Or screw her, too. No, she was going to do both.