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Marotte

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This story is No. 1 in the series "The Girl Who Wasn't". You may wish to read the series introduction first.

Summary: "What are you?" he asked. Not 'who' but 'what', and so she answered: "I'm a trick."

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
DC Universe > Batman > Dawn-CenteredamusewithaviewFR1382,61494323,72222 Feb 1022 Feb 10Yes
CoA Winner

Wander

Disclaimer: I own neither BtVS nor any version of the "Batman" franchise. Joss Whedon owns the former and I really have no idea who owns the latter. DC, I would assume...

A/N: This is gonna be (yet another) drabble-series. I had the idea, and it wouldn't go away. Yes, I'm working on my other stuff, but this is sort of a stress-reliever in the meantime. Don't expect a TON of coherency out of this, it's sort of variations on a theme?





She arrived in Gotham on a day like any other. There were clouds in the sky, but they weren't ominous, and the sun shone through occasionally, but it wasn't bleak. It was just a day, and the sky was just sky. It wasn't a portent of doom or an upcoming happily-ever-after, not that she would have noticed. She didn't look at the sky, or any higher than knee-level on the nearest passerby.

Dawn walked with a confident loose-limbed stride and it was that which saved her. She looked like someone with places to be; she didn't look scared, or like a victim. She wandered (because there was no other word for her meandering, aimless path) into the deepest, darkest part of the Narrows before anyone approached her.

"You lookin' for someone?"

She looked up at the man, with his dirty coat and dirtier leer, and smiled vaguely. "No… maybe, yes?"

He was a bit taken aback by her answer, "Well, which is it?"

"I dunno," she replied, looking him in the eye for the first time, "why don't you tell me?"

He looked at her bright blue eyes and there was… nothing. No fear, no anger, no worry, not even that blank sheen of hopelessness and despair he was used to seeing on the faces of the whores and junkies. She, this girl, was looking right at him, she knew he was there, but there was no reaction. She was blank.

"Sir, are you alright?"

The inflection was right, she was even frowning and stepping forward, body-language telegraphing concern. Her eyes, though – still blank. He shivered, "I'm fine, kid. Go on home now," away from me, you little freak, went unspoken.

The frown was replaced by another smile. "Home," she said slowly, savoring the word, "what is that?"

It was his turn to frown, even though every instinct was telling him to walk away, now rather than later. After a while in the Narrows, you learned to tell the true crazies from the just plain desperate. This girl, cute though she may be, was loony.

"Home's where you live," he told her.

She nodded slowly. "Oh, well that explains why I don't have one. I don't live, ergo, no home."

"Ah, okay, sorry 'bout that." He walked away as quickly as his feet would take him without running.

Dawn watched him go, "Nice man. Bad teeth."
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