Dawn shook her head as Buffy showed off her costume, a giggle escaping her lips. "What are you, a damsel in distress?"
The older girl grabbed a pillow from her bed, barely giving Dawn time to duck before it flew mere inches above her head. "Like you're one to talk. What are you, an eleven-year-old slut?"
Dawn stuck out her tongue as she quickly backed out of the room. "Of course not. I'm the Slayer."
The shoe Buffy threw at her embedded its heel in the wall.
As screams rang through the night, Dawn quietly pulled out her stake.