Disclaimer: Jo Polniaczek, Blair Warner, and all things Facts of Life belong to Columbia Pictures Television and Sony Pictures Television. Buffy and Her Friends are owned by Joss Whedon and a bunch of suits. I'm altering their realities for fun, not profit, as I own nothing and have the credit report to prove it. Original characters are mine, and in the unlikely event you want to play with them, let me know where they wander off to.

Dialogue from Faith, Hope and Trick by David Greenwalt
Dialogue from Dirty Girls by Drew Goddard
Dialogue from Empty Places by Drew Z. Greenberg
Dialogue from Touched by Rebecca Rand Kirshner
Dialogue from Chosen by Jane Espenson and Douglas Petrie
Dialogue from End of Days by Joss Whedon

Lyrics from Something You Said by the Wicomicos, copyright 1998 Oyster Boy Music.
Lyrics from All at Once by Bonnie Raitt, copyright 1991 Bonnie Raitt.
Lyrics from One Fine Wire by Colbie Caillat, copyright Colbie Caillat, Jason Reeves, Mikal Blue
Lyrics from Blue Wind by the Wicomicos, copyright 1993 Craig Devage, Mikel Campbell & Carmen Yates
Lyrics from Karla with a K by The Hooters, copyright Eric Bazilian and Rob Hyman
Lyrics from Grace Saves the Day by the Wicomicos, copyright 1998 Oyster Boy Music
Lyrics from Precious Faith by the Wicomicos, copyright 1998 Oyster Boy Music
Lyrics from Surrounded by the Wicomicos, copyright 1995 Carmen Yates & Mikel Campbell

All used without permission or profit, and with huge thanks for the inspiration.

One

Another summer
Dying on the vine
North wind leaning in at night
In a world made of pictures
This is how the blind survive
We cling to certain words that shine
Something You Said

Jo Polniaczek hated the idea of leaving the Bronx. She hated leaving her mother. And she especially hated being singled out by getting a scholarship to an upstate private girls' school, a scholarship her mother applied for without telling her.

Jo knew that her mother wanted her to have a better life, an easier life, and wanted her away from the gang she ran with because her girlfriend, her oh so hot bad girl girlfriend, was a member. Jo had a few scrapes with the law, and the last time she'd been arrested, the third time, she spent more than a month in juvenile detention. That was the final straw for Rose Polniaczek, the thing that drove her to complete and mail the scholarship application.

Rose made Jo promise to try, and as incentive, let Jo take herself to Peekskill on her motorcycle. Rose hoped she wouldn't regret that, worried that her hotheaded daughter would do something more stupid and dangerous than the stunts she regularly pulled. Rose held her tongue when Jo stayed away the two nights before leaving, but made it clear that she and Jo would spend the last evening together. Rose switched her work schedule, so Jo knew it was something she had to do. Not that she really minded, especially after two almost sleepless nights saying a prolonged goodbye to Lita.

On the morning Jo had to leave, Rose got her up early and they had a quiet breakfast. Rose hugged Jo and made her promise to be careful, and again, to give the school a chance. Jo swallowed her tears and hugged her mother. Rose watched Jo ride away.

Once she was out of the city, the view changed. There was less concrete and asphalt, more trees, and less traffic. She stopped once, to top off the tank, stretch her legs, and double-check the directions. She set off again, her jaw tightening as she got closer to her destination.

Jo put off the inevitable for a few minutes by riding through Peekskill, noting the locations of places that looked promising for entertainment. The Chug-a-Lug, with its old school neon and rented trailer sign promising two-for-one beers, caught her attention. It wasn't like this school was a jail or anything, even if being sent there made her feel just like she did when the judge told her she'd be spending at least a month at the juvenile jail. It took her breath like sucker punch, hearing that she would lose both privacy and freedom until someone felt like returning them. When she got out, her friends treated her like she'd done something awesome. Jo had free beers and back slaps and eager sloppy kisses from Lita, but what made her feel good was using her own key to enter her home when she was ready, and deciding whether the door to her room should be open or closed.

She finally turned toward the outskirts of the small town, and a few minutes later rode through the huge iron gates at the school's entrance. She pulled in front of the largest building, parking close to it off the drive so her bike wouldn't be endangered, steeled herself, and went inside.

It was, initially, worse than she thought it would be. The snooty blonde girl first ogled, then insulted her. Blair Warner managed to push all of her buttons inside of five minutes, and they ended up yelling at each other. The school's dietician and dorm mother separated them, and Jo tried to remember her manners as she followed Mrs. Garrett to her room. When Jo tried to sneak out later, she had to bring the Princess along to keep her quiet. Because she had to keep an eye on Blair, Jo wasn't able to relax. She sipped her beer and looked around warily, trying to get a feel for the place.

And then all hell broke loose. It started as a scuffle by the pool table. Jo tried to get Blair out the door, but there were too many bodies between them and it, so she pushed Blair against a wall before she was pulled into the fight. She managed to grab a pool cue to balance out the inequity between her size and that of the men around her.

"Jo! Behind you!" Blair yelled.

Jo instinctively shoved the pool cue back. She felt the initial connection of the small end of the stick before it slid back, meeting resistance for a few moments. She thought it was adrenaline, the rush she felt as she waded deeper into the fight. She kept at it, giving as good as she got until she was shoved against the bar and restrained. Jo looked around, saw the familiar blue of police uniforms, and groaned. She groaned again when she heard Blair's protests.

Jo didn't have the opportunity to say anything to Blair. The blood dripping down her face got her bundled into a squad car and taken to the emergency room. She assumed Blair was arrested too, but when Jo emerged from the treatment area, hands cuffed in front of her because she'd made it clear she wasn't going to cause problems, Blair and Mrs. Garrett waited with some guy in a suit and a cop with a bunch of stripes.

Jo's handcuffs were immediately removed, but she knew she was still in trouble. She kept her head down and said nothing, followed Blair and Mrs. Garrett to the car, and remained silent during the drive back to Eastland.

She didn't say anything while Mrs. Garrett sat them down in the kitchen and explained exactly how much trouble they were in. All Jo could think was that her mother would kill her. Blair followed her lead and remained silent, and Mrs. Garrett eventually wound down. She looked at them for a long time, hoping one of them would offer an explanation, and sighed before getting up and leaving them there.

Jo slid out of the chair. She went to the freezer, pulled out a bag of frozen mixed vegetables, and placed it against her aching jaw. She was mostly bruised, and not as sore as she usually was after a fight. The nosebleed stopped before she got to the emergency room, and her busted lip stopped dripping soon after. The emergency room doctor insisted on stitching the cut in her eyebrow. Jo rummaged through the refrigerator and found sandwich makings. She pulled them out one at a time with her free hand.

"I don't understand what happened in the bar," Blair said while watching Jo. When she realized what Jo was doing, Blair got up to help her. "The guy who was sneaking up on you, he was there and then he wasn't."

"Oh, c'mon, Princess, you only had one beer."

"I'm serious, Jo," Blair insisted while getting plates, napkins, and glasses. "Sit down, I'll fix your sandwich."

"Make two," Jo instructed, and moved back to the table.

"That man was there and then there was a cloud of dust and he was gone."

Jo decided to humor her. "Ok. I didn't see it. Too busy trying to not get killed."

"Oh, please. You knocked two of them out."

"I got lucky," Jo shrugged. "How'd you get sprung so quick?"

"Money talks." She put the sandwich makings away and brought out a jug of milk. She filled the glasses and returned the milk to the refrigerator.

"Thanks for gettin' me."

"Don't thank me yet." Blair put a plate and glass in front of Jo and got her own. "We have to see the headmaster in the morning."

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll take the rap."

"No, you won't. I was there because I wanted to be."

Jo didn't answer. She inhaled the sandwiches one neatly cut quarter at a time, the other hand holding the makeshift compress to her face. "Any aspirin around here?"

"I have some in my purse." Blair put her sandwich down and got her bag off her chair. Moments later, she handed Jo a small foil pack.

"Thanks," Jo said again. She put the vegetables down long enough to tear open the package and throw down the pills, finishing her milk.

"Go on up to bed. I'll clean up."

"I can help," Jo said defensively.

"By keeping me company." Blair looked at Jo and swapped their plates and glasses. "Thank you for taking me with you and making sure I didn't get hurt."

"Whatever." Jo quickly finished Blair's sandwich and pushed the plate away. Blair picked it and the empty glass up. "Is there anything else to eat?"

"Didn't you have dinner?"

"That was hours ago," Jo protested.

"There's chocolate cake." Blair turned from the sink.

"Perfect. Where is it?" Jo stood up again, and returned the vegetables to the freezer.

Blair went to the industrial refrigerator and pulled out a plate. She handed it to Jo, who put it on the counter. Blair opened a drawer and handed her a fork, then got the glass of milk from the table.

Jo ate the cake quickly and drained the glass. She put them both in the sink and turned to see Blair watching her. "What?"

"We better get to bed before somebody comes looking for us."

"I guess."

Jo lay awake for a long time, worrying about what her mother would say and how she was going to pay the hospital bill. She thought about Blair, too, how the other girl was not like she seemed at their initial meeting. Once she was in police custody, Jo figured it was all over except for the paperwork, but Blair had come to get her. Blair, in a room across the hall, lay awake, too, thinking about the girl who roared into her life and changed everything in a few hours. It sounded strange even in her thoughts, but she had fun, and looked forward to spending more time with Jo.

Mrs. Garrett got them both up early. They had to see the headmaster before breakfast. Jo was amazed to see that the bruises were almost gone. Her lip was back to its normal size, and her jaw no longer ached with each movement. She hurried to get ready, skipping the school uniform for jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers, and scrambled down the stairs. Blair followed the sound of pacing and found Jo in the kitchen a few minutes later. She looked perfect, makeup and hair done, her uniform looking fresh.

"Wow," Blair said when she saw Jo. "Your face looks a lot better than I thought it would." She frowned at the other girl's attire. "Why aren't you wearing your uniform?"

"Why? I'm gonna get thrown out anyway."

"No, you aren't."

"I'm pretty sure sneaking out to a bar, getting in a fight and getting arrested is gonna get me expelled."

"Don't say anything, all right? Just go put your uniform on."

"Why? I ain't stayin."

"You are, Jo. Please. Last night was the most fun I ever had. I want to do that again. Well, not the part where you get beat up and we get handcuffed, but the rest of it. So, please, put your uniform on and trust me."

Jo looked at her speculatively for a few moments before nodding. She raced upstairs to her room and changed. When Blair saw her again, Jo was rolling up her shirt sleeves, her vest unbuttoned and the tie hanging around her neck. Jo tried to swat her away, but Blair persisted and knotted the tie. "Geez, are you tryin' to choke me? Loosen it up."

Blair tutted, but did as Jo asked. She was still adjusting the tie when Mrs. Garrett joined them. The meeting went much better than Jo thought it would. She let Blair do the talking, and they escaped with a month of grounding and kitchen duty. To make sure they stayed out of trouble, they were moved from their dorm rooms to a small room next to Mrs. Garrett's. They would move their things after class. The headmaster would refrain from informing their parents as long as they behaved appropriately.

Jo spoke up only after everything was clear. "Uh, sir, I need to get my motorcycle."

"After dinner," he said crisply, nodding toward Mrs. Garrett, and dismissed them.

"Kitchen duty starts now," Mrs. Garrett informed them, and hustled them into the rear of the cafeteria. She handed them both aprons and told them to serve eggs, sausage, and pancakes to the other students. They barely had time to eat before running off to class.

They had the same schedule, but not the same interests. Jo's mind wandered during English, and Blair drifted off during both algebra and chemistry. They served lunch, but didn't get to eat before history class. By the end of language class, the only one they didn't share, Jo was starving. She met Blair on the way back to the kitchen.

"Hockey tryouts are today," Blair said. "You should go."

"I don't know nothin' about hockey."

"You're smart and fast and tough. Coach Morris will love you."

"Coach Morris who busted me twice in English class?"

"Yes," Blair grinned. She laughed when Jo's stomach rumbled. "C'mon." She pulled at Jo's arm. "Let's feed the beast before we start moving."

Jo scarfed three sandwiches while Blair ate one. As soon as they finished, Mrs. Garrett appeared and began directing the move. Jo's part was finished quickly, so she pitched in to help Blair. They had a half-hour breather before hockey tryouts started. Blair insisted that Jo go, and went with the other girl to make sure she did.

Blair watched from the bleachers as Jo picked up the basics. After tryouts finished, they had just enough time to get back to the kitchen to serve the evening meal. It was more work than the others, since they were expected to clean up the cafeteria after serving the other students. They worked together without complaining, aware that Mrs. Garrett was watching them.

"Can I get my bike now?" Jo asked as soon as the cleaning tools were put away.

"Take a cab," Mrs. Garrett instructed. "Blair, you go with her. You better be back here within an hour."

"Yes, ma'am," Blair said, and went to call the cab company. Jo went with her, and followed her out to the gate.

Because she'd timed it earlier, Jo knew exactly how long it would take to get back to Eastland. She suspected Mrs. Garrett knew, too, and was giving them an opportunity to show their intentions, so they went directly back to school, arriving with 10 minutes to spare. Mrs. Garrett was waiting, her hand held out. Jo understood the gesture clearly, having surrendered her bike key to her mother on several occasions, and handed over the small key ring with a resigned sigh.

"I suggest you both get to bed early. I'll need you in the kitchen at 7 a.m."

Neither of them said anything as they headed upstairs. Jo headed to the window and stood looking out of it.

"What's wrong?" Blair asked.

"My mom's gonna find out about this anyway."

"No one's going to call her," Blair reassured.

"They'll send her the hospital bill," Jo sighed.

"I took care of it," Blair said.

"You what?"

"I told Mr. Blake to make sure the bill got paid."

"You shouldn't'a done that."

"Why not?"

"I'm not a charity case," Jo bristled.

"I never said you were. I thought it was appropriate payment for your bodyguard services."

"I'll pay you back. Every penny."

"You don't have to." Blair approached her slowly. "I was trying to help."

"I know," Jo said finally, and turned back toward the window. Blair watched her for a few moments before gathering her things and leaving for the bathroom.

Jo wanted to hate Eastland. It would have been easy, but there was more good than bad. For the first time, she was engaged by her classes and academically challenged. Teachers didn't brush off her questions or make her stay after class to lecture her that she was being a disruption. She was busy with homework, hockey, cafeteria duty, and evening swims with Blair. Blair continued to surprise her, their initially tentative friendship cemented by their shared punishment and late night talks. There was more to her than their first impressions indicated.

Things should have gotten easier, but they didn't. The rich girls around her drove Jo insane. They were so catty, constantly remarking about her accent, appearance, and scholarship. They were even ruder to Blair, mocking her for slumming. Blair quickly learned who her friends were and ignored the others.

Jo took out some of her aggression on the hockey field. Blair watched every practice and attended every game. She loved watching Jo play hockey. Jo went all out, as if she had only one speed where motion was involved, and it required her ponytail to stream behind her. Jo smiled when she scrambled up after a collision, even those that left the other girls writhing in the dirt. Her teammates soon recognized that smile and tried to avoid it. Whatever else was going on with the new girl, she was a maniac on the hockey field, and Eastland was winning because Jo never tired, never asked for a break, and never quit trying.

At the start of the last week of punishment, Mrs. Garrett pulled Jo aside after cleanup, and they talked for several minutes. Blair waited impatiently upstairs, trying to read the next chapter of history, but unable to concentrate.

"Well?" Blair asked as soon as Jo entered the room.

"What?"

"What did Mrs. Garrett want?"

"She wants me to keep workin' in the kitchen. For money."

Blair frowned.

"I'm gonna do it. I need to pay you back."

"Jo, there's no hurry for that."

Jo shrugged. "It'll help Ma."

"Jo," Blair protested, trying to think of a reason to keep Jo from accepting Mrs. Garrett's offer. She was looking forward to the end of restrictions on their time so they could do something fun.

"It's not your concern, Blair."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Ridiculous," Jo repeated. "So sorry that I'm ridiculous to you," she said stiffly.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then say what you mean."

Blair sighed. "I'm sorry, Jo. I know how tired I am. I can't imagine how tired you must be. I don't want you to run yourself ragged."

"You shoulda thought of that before you dragged me off to hockey tryouts. And I ain't tired."

"Jo, you don't have to work."

"No, Princess, you don't have to work. The rabble, we got bills to pay."

"You are so stubborn!"

"That the best you got?" Jo challenged her.

Blair sputtered for a few seconds. "Turn blue!" she yelled and stormed out of their room.

Jo stared at the door for a few seconds before doubling over in laughter.

When Blair returned an hour later, Jo was deep into her English assignment. She hated Melville, she decided on page three of Moby Dick. Anything, even Father Waitowski's endless droning sermons during Sunday mass, was less boring.

"Hey," Blair said as she closed the door.

"Hey," Jo answered without looking up.

"If you're going to continue working in the cafeteria, I'm going to help you."

Jo, grateful for the distraction, put the book aside and slid to the edge of her bed. "Why?"

"I want to."

Jo looked at Blair speculatively. "You want to work in the cafeteria."

"Not the way you make it sound."

"So why?"

"Just leave it, ok? And please help me with math. All I ever hear from Mr. Wright is blah blah blah squared."

Punishment officially ended on a Tuesday night, but they weren't allowed to leave the campus during the week. On Friday night, as soon as they finished cleaning up, Jo hurried upstairs and grabbed her helmet, then went to Mrs. Garrett. "May I have my keys, please?"

"You still have a curfew," Mrs. Garrett reminded her.

"Yeah, I know. We'll be back in plenty of time."

"And the Chug-a-Lug is strictly off limits."

"Got it."

"Be careful."

"You bet," Jo grinned, and walked as quickly as she could for the door.

Blair was pacing around the motorcycle. "Well?"

Jo shrugged. "Curfew, stay away from the bar, be careful."

Blair smiled and put on the helmet she'd ordered the first week of punishment. Jo put on her helmet and got on the motorcycle. She rocked it off the kickstand and waited for Blair to get on behind her. Once the other girl was settled, Jo started the bike and headed for the gate.

Blair smiled brightly and waved as they passed the girls waiting for the school's bus to take them into Peekskill. Once they were on the highway outside the school, Jo opened up the throttle. Blair squeezed her tightly, but Jo ignored the subtle request to slow down. She loved the feeling of moving over the road, imagining it to be something like flying. Blair was an excellent passenger. Pressed close against Jo, she followed the other girl's body through the sweeping curves on the parkway.

After an hour, Jo spotted a diner and pulled into the parking lot. She was happy to see Blair smiling hugely when she got off the bike, and they went inside and got a booth at the front so Jo could keep an eye on their ride.

They talked, falling into the easy rhythm of conversations that went on whenever they were alone. Tonight, Jo made an effort to be upbeat, although she had a weird tingling feeling on her neck. She kept shifting in the booth, looking around, but finding nothing to cause her discomfort.

Blair kept an eye on the time, and reminded Jo of their curfew. They paid the bill, Blair watching as Jo did the math to add the tip and split everything evenly. When they went outside, a man was admiring Jo's motorcycle.

Normally, she loved to talk about it, but something about him bothered her. The tingling sensation grew as he tried to get between them, and Jo told him firmly to leave them alone.

He laughed at that. "Little girl," he began.

"I ain't little anything," Jo spat. "Go away."

He shifted into his true face. Blair saw one yellow eye over Jo's shoulder before the man reached for her friend. She watched the fight, amazed at the speed of Jo's blows and the durability of her foe. When they got close to her, Blair swung the helmet and cracked it against the man's skull.

He turned his attention to her, and Blair saw his disfigured face for the first time.

"Hey," Jo yelled, and jerked him by the collar. "I'm not done with you." She pulled him into her fist, then pushed him down as she raised her knee. When he went to the ground, she kicked him, moving him several inches across the gravel lot each time her foot disappeared into his side.

She stood over him to make sure he wasn't going to get up before returning to Blair. "We gotta go now. I'm pretty sure they called the cops."

Blair didn't ask questions. She put her helmet on and but didn't bother to buckle it, and scrambled on behind Jo. She glanced at the man, still on the ground, but beginning to move. "He's getting up," she reported apprehensively.

Jo just grunted as she forced down the kickstart. She deliberately spun the rear tire, throwing gravel toward him, before pulling onto the highway. Blair held on as Jo raced down the road. She slowed down after putting some miles behind them, but kept an eye out in the mirror.

They got back to Eastland just ahead of curfew. Jo cut the engine and they glided the last distance to the garage where Jo kept the motorcycle. She hurried to put it inside and pull the door down. Blair removed the helmet and shook out her hair while she watched Jo.

"What was wrong with that guy?"

"Dunno." Jo looked at her knuckles, still red and a little swollen. "It was like hittin' concrete."

"Are you hurt?"

"Nah." Jo pulled off her helmet.

"I can't take you anywhere," Blair teased. "Barbarian."

"Barbarian saved your butt."

"So now we're even."

"We're even when I say we're even."

"All right," Blair acquiesced. "We better get inside."

They were unsurprised to see Mrs. Garrett waiting, one eye on the clock, even though they had 15 minutes to spare.

"Night, Mrs. G," Jo said as they went past.

"Good night, Mrs. Garrett."

"Good night, girls."

They went out the next night, too, just because they could. This time, Blair drove. Jo was stunned to see the shiny black Porsche 911, and thrilled to get to ride in it. Blair listened to her extol the car's performance standards, smiling at the excitement in Jo's voice.

They stayed in Peekskill. Blair parked the car between the small café and the movie theatre. They bought popcorn and drinks, and settled into the middle of the theatre for the first showing. Afterward, they went to the café for sodas. Again, Jo felt the uneasy sensation of being watched, and kept looking around, trying to find the source, and again could not. Blair noted the behavior this time, and sighed. "If you're not going to talk, we can just go back now."

"Nah, it's not that. Last night, at the diner, I had this weird feeling, and then when we got outside, that creep was there. And now I got the same feeling."

"Is there going to be another fight?"

"Man, I hope not. Otherwise, I'm gonna think you just attract them."

"Me! All I've done is go with you."

"Yeah, well, I never been in a fight every time I go out before, and you're the only common denominator."

"It's definitely not me," Blair said emphatically.

"Fine. It's not you." Jo emptied her soda. "I really don't like this. Let's just go."

They were almost at the car when a man stepped out of the alley. "Slayer," he said coldly, eyeing Jo.

"Look, I don't want any problems," Jo said.

"Killing you won't be a problem," the man said, and his face shifted.

Blair gulped and Jo sighed before saying, "Blair, get in the car. You, c'mon."

The man smiled and threw a punch that Jo easily avoided, and the battle was on. This man was a better fighter than the man she faced last night, and he landed a blow for every three Jo did. He slung her into the alley, and while Jo scrambled up, she grabbed a piece of the wooden pallet she landed on. She was holding it in front of her when he charged, and she instinctively stabbed toward his chest.

Somehow, the wood went through his shirt and into his chest, and three seconds later, Jo was coughing, trying to expel the cloud of dust that suddenly surrounded her. "What the fuck?" she asked, then remembered her friend.

Blair was waiting in the car, the engine running, and pulled away before Jo got the door closed. "What happened?"

"I don't know." Jo felt blood on her chin and swiped at it, hissing as the back of her hand went over her split lip. "Damn it."

"Don't swear."

"My lip's busted. Mrs. G's gonna ground me again."

"She won't. Someone tried to mug me."

Jo looked at Blair, who concentrated on the road. "Told you you're a fight magnet," she said smugly.

"Barbarian," Blair retorted automatically. "There's a hankie in my purse."

"I'm all right."

"I don't want you bleeding all over the leather."

"Thanks for your concern," Jo said sarcastically, but dug around in Blair's bag until she felt the soft fabric. She didn't bother to unfold it, just pressed it against her lip, hissing again at the pressure.

They didn't talk for the rest of the ride, but inside the garage, Blair stopped Jo from going in. "Let me see." Blair put her hand on Jo's cheek and tried to turn her face toward the light, but Jo shied away.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're a bloody mess," Blair corrected. "How many times did he hit you?"

"I didn't exactly have time to count."

"You look almost as bad as you did the first time we did this."

"I ain't goin' to the hospital."

"If you're hurt, you're going."

"It's just a busted lip."

"Your hand is swollen."

"That's what happens when you hit somebody." Jo jerked her hand out of Blair's, not because the other girl was hurting her, but because of the tiny electrical charges between Blair's skin and her own. "I'm all right," she insisted.

"Fine. Remember, somebody tried to mug me."

"So why am I the one bleeding?"

Fortunately, they didn't need the cover story. The kitchen was empty, although a light showed under Mrs. Garrett's door when they passed. Blair pulled Jo into the bathroom, and over Jo's protests, carefully cleaned her face.

They changed into pajamas and Jo headed down to the kitchen to find something to eat. A plate of sandwiches was waiting in the refrigerator, and she grabbed it, two glasses, and the half-empty milk jug. After a moment's consideration, she put everything on the counter and pulled the cookie jar forward. She grabbed a handful of oatmeal cookies and put them on top of the plate before gathering everything and heading upstairs.

They sat on Jo's bed to eat.

"What happened to that man?" Blair asked again.

"I dunno." Jo took another big bite of her sandwich and chewed while she thought about it. "It was weird," she said after swallowing. "I picked up a piece of wood, you know, for a weapon, and I stabbed him with it and he disappeared."

"In a cloud of dust."

"Yeah."

"That's what happened in the bar. And his face looked like the guy last night. He was normal one minute and then he was really ugly."

"Fight magnet," Jo repeated in the same smug tone she used in the car.

Blair ignored her. "He called you something."

Jo shrugged. "Been called worse by better people."

"I'm being serious here."

"Don't. It's too late and it was weird, and I don't wanna deal right now." Jo finished her sandwiches and started on the cookies. She offered Blair one, but Blair shook her head.

"It's weird, all right," Blair agreed.

"Let it go," Jo said before finishing the milk. She took the plate and glasses down to the sink, rinsed them, and put them in the dishwasher. By the time she returned to their room, Blair had the lights off and was in her regular sleeping position.

"Night, Princess," Jo said as she settled under the covers.

"Good night, Jo."

In the morning, Jo was completely healed.