Charlotte regretted agreeing to Dallas' offer to walk her home the second she was out of sight of the Curtis' place.

Dallas made her nervous, that much was painfully obvious. But Charlotte also hadn't taken into consideration the fact that she was three miles from home, and it was cold outside, and she didn't have a jacket. And Dallas, unlike Two-Bit, wouldn't sling his arm around her shoulders to help keep her warm. So Charlotte resorted to wrapping her arms around herself and shivering quietly as she walked alongside Dallas.

The towheaded boy hadn't spoken a word to Charlotte since they began walking, and that had been over ten minutes ago. The only noises in the still night was that of the trees rustling with the breeze and Lily Belle's collar jingling. The dog, who didn't take well to most strangers, had become very affectionate towards Dallas. Lily Belle was walking alongside him, nudging his leg with her nose whenever he stopped petting her.

Charlotte smiled in spite of herself. Dallas didn't at all seem like the type of boy who would have a secret love for animals. But, whenever Charlotte turned away, his hand would find the dog's head and he would pet her absently.

Charlotte was just about to find an excuse to pop inside a convenience store and try calling her house when a car horn sounded, interrupting the quietness of the night. She nearly jumped out of her skin, but then laughed quietly at her silliness. It was, after all, just a car. Nothing to be frightened of.

But Dallas wasn't laughing.

The boy had sworn under his breath when the car had honked, and Charlotte had just assumed that he had done so out of fright, but now she wasn't so sure. She watched, wide eyed, as Dallas reached into his pocket and pulled out something.

She realized with a start that it was a switch blade.

Charlotte's heart was pounding so loud that she was sure everybody within a ten mile radius could hear it. She wanted to speak, demand an explanation from Dallas, but no words would come out. Instead, Charlotte turned around and spotted a car, headlights off, driving slowly behind them. That's when she realized the severity of the situation.

"Dallas?," Charlotte paused, finding her voice. She cleared her throat before continuing. "Do you know those boys?"

Dallas made a gesture for her to shut up, and Charlotte clamped her mouth shut immediately. Besides, one look at Dallas' face told her he didn't like whoever was behind the wheel of that car. She only clutched her dog's leash more tightly in her hand and prayed that Lily Belle would stay quiet.

The car that had been tailing Charlotte and Dallas came to an abrupt stop a few feet behind them. Three boys climbed out of the vehicle. They looked to be around Dallas' age, possibly a little older. They were dressed, Charlotte noticed, in rather nice sports jackets and slacks. They looked as if they'd just come from a formal dinner party or night out. Charlotte couldn't help but to compare them to many of the higher-class boys she knew from back home.

But as they came closer, Charlotte knew that they weren't anything like the good boys she'd grown up with in New York. Even from a distance she could tell that they were drunk, and that was before she noticed the beer bottle that the tallest of the three boys was holding. They were dangerous, all right, perhaps not in the same way as Dallas, but as the group of boys came sauntering forward, Charlotte knew something terrible was about to happen.

"Dallas," Charlotte whispered again, trying to catch the boys attention.

"Goddammit, shut up!" Dallas hissed, and then he moved towards the group of boys, a look of calm coolness on his pale face.

Charlotte watched in sickened awe as Dallas approached the boys. He was outnumbered three to one, but that didn't even seem to faze him. In fact, he looked more confident than ever. Dallas held his switchblade casually at his side, but Charlotte saw him tighten his grip slightly.

"What're you doing down here, greaser? This is our territory."

The boy with the beer sneered, swaying slightly on his drunken feet. The other two laughed as if he'd told the funniest joke they'd ever heard.

"You lookin' for a fight, boys?"

Dallas' voice was low and deadly, so quiet that Charlotte could barely hear him.

Charlotte used her free hand to tug at her hair nervously. She wasn't sure what was about to happen, only that if Dallas were to lose this fight, she was terrified of what these three boys would do to her. She had absolutely no chance of outrunning them, that was for sure, and Lily Belle wouldn't be able to do much damage; she wasn't a fighting dog. Charlotte could only hope that there was someone nearby that could hear her scream.

The tall boy began speaking, grabbing Charlotte's attention.

"Think you can take us? Boys, why don't we teach this piece of shit a little lesson-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Dallas delivered a clean punch that sent him down onto his knees. The other two boys stared in shock at their fallen leader before springing into action. A scuffle ensued for several minutes, in which Dallas managed to hold his own. He had only suffered a few minor hits so far, but then one of the boys, the brunet one, punched Dallas hard in the stomach.

While Dallas was bent over, trying to catch his breath, the brunet grabbed Dallas around the waist with one arm and held his neck up with the other, and the other boy snatched Dallas' blade out of his hand.

"Not so tough now, are ya? Serves you right to mess with us."

He laughed and held the switchblade up to Dallas' neck.

Dallas was struggling in the brunet's arms, but the boy had an iron-tight grip on the greaser. Charlotte watched in stricken horror as the second boy brought the blade down, making a thin, bright red line across Dallas' neck. She could see a few droplets of blood run down his neck and disappear beneath his shirt. If they pressed even just the tiniest bit harder, Dallas could be dead within minutes.

She felt sick.

Charlotte knew she had to do something, and fast. She began looking around wildly for a moment and then picked up a rock off the ground and threw it as hard as she could at the brunet boy's head.

He let out a yowl of pain and released Dallas, whirling around to find the culprit behind the attack. Dallas took advantage of his momentary lapse in attention and hit him on the side of the head, effectively knocking him out.

Dallas and Charlotte locked eyes for a moment, the silence seeming so out of place after all of the chaos. Then, the ring leader of the little group rose unsteadily. He looked back and forth between the two for a moment and took in Charlotte.

"Pretty little Soc girl, huh? What're you doing on this side of town, sweetheart? What I would love to do with you-"

Dallas started towards the Soc, but his friend clapped him on the shoulder and shouted, "Damn it, George! Shut the hell up and help me get Hank into the car! Come on!"

This was the last thing Charlotte heard, because moments after the world started spinning and eventually faded to black. She fell.

"Why the hell am I the one gettin' stuck in this mess all the goddamn time, huh? Shoulda let Two-bit take her home. Shoulda known better than to get mixed up with a little Soc like her."

The first thing Charlotte heard when she came to was Dallas' low grumbling. It took her a moment to figure out where she was and what had happened, but then the memories came flooding back to her. The Socs, the fight, and the crude, suggestive comments made towards her... Charlotte shuddered.

If it weren't for Dallas, things could have been much, much worse. If she'd been walking alone, or Dallas had been knocked out... Those Soc boys had been drunk enough to commit unspeakable acts, that she was certain of. And a weak girl alone in an unfamiliar town was the perfect target, Charlotte knew. Dallas had quite possibly saved her life. Scratch that. Charlotte knew he had saved her life.

She quickly gathered that the boy must have carried her to wherever they were once she passed out, and she felt of surge of gratitude towards him. He did have a heart, then, beneath that ice-cold rocky exterior. Or at least that's what she was trying to convince herself.

"You finally awake, then?"

Dallas roughly shook Charlotte's shoulder, causing her to let out an extremely un-ladylike groan.

She blinked several times, gathering her bearings before slowly sitting up. Charlotte was sprawled out on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, but that wasn't the first thing that captured her attention. Dallas was standing above her, half-naked without a shirt. There were several small cuts on his body, but one on the corner of his mouth looked rather nasty. And then her eyes found his throat, and the thick, dried blood that was caked there. Dallas was lucky the knife hadn't cut much deeper, because if it had, he would be dead.

Charlotte tore her eyes away from the boy and glanced around the room. It wasn't much, if she were honest with herself. The yellow wallpaper was peeling in places, and it was hardly big enough for a twin-sized bed and a wooden dresser. There weren't many personal artifacts in the space besides a pile of clothes stacked un-neatly in the corner and a pack of cigarettes thrown on the dresser. In fact, if Charlotte hadn't pieced together that this was Dallas' room, she would have assumed that it hadn't been lived in for quite some time.

Charlotte's eyes met Dallas' again and she realized that he was waiting for an answer.

"Oh, yeah. I suppose I'm alright, but a little aspirin would work wonders. Do you happen to have any?"

Before Charlotte had finished speaking there was a glass of water and a white pill in her hands. She wouldn't have admitted it, but she was a little touched by Dallas' kindness. In all honesty, she wouldn't have expected him to take her back to his place and patch her up. It seemed as if it was more in Dallas' character to leave her stranded on the streets and carry on with his business.

"Why the hell did you pass out back there, huh? Had to carry you all the way here."

Dallas huffed. He began wiping roughly at the cuts on his arm again.

Without a second thought Charlotte jumped to sit on her knees on the bed and took the damp cloth out of Dallas' hands.

"Goodness, Dallas. If you do it like that you'll only irritate the cuts more! Do you have any peroxide or anything? You don't want these- and especially that one on your throat- to get infected."

Dallas only laughed harshly.

"What do I look like, princess? I've had worse, it'll be fine. Quit your worryin' Besides, Soda can patch me up later if I need it."

Charlotte held back a retort. Why was Dallas so unwilling to give her a chance? She was trying to save him a trip to the hospital, that was all. But, Charlotte supposed, the bigger question was why did she care? Whatever happened to Dallas Winston would have no impact on her. She'd only just met the boy a few short hours ago, after all.

"Be quiet for a minute. All of your smarting off is causing the cut on your mouth to open again. Just hush for a moment, it won't kill you."

Charlotte began dabbing at Dallas' mouth, scarcely breathing due to her proximity to the boy. She was mere inches away from his face.

After Charlotte was completely satisfied with how the cut on Dallas' mouth looked, she moved on to his neck. This one was a little harder for her to stomach, but Charlotte took a steadying breath and swiped the rag over his neck once, clearing off most of the blood. That made her feel a little better about the seriousness of the injury, so she began applying a little more force.

Dallas had set a box of bandages on the bed, along with a roll of tape. Charlotte, after fretting over the lack of antibiotics for a good five minutes, tore one of the bandages in half and taped it against Dallas' neck gently. It wasn't the prettiest dressing, but it would have to do, given the situation. Charlotte knew without a doubt nothing she could say would convince Dallas to accompany her inside her house to grab proper equipment. She sighed internally, and began cleaning up the dried blood on the boy's chest.

Dallas found his excuse to stare at Charlotte as she worked on his face and neck. She was hot, this he already knew, but he was now noticing other things. Like the light smattering of freckles that she had along her cheeks and nose, and the small scar on the bottom of her chin. He found it funny how her tongue was poking out of her mouth as she focused on cleaning his cuts. It was cute, even.

Dallas jerked back instantly as if he'd been shot. Hell no, he didn't just mentally call a girl "cute". What was with him? Charlotte wasn't that good looking anyway. Sure, she had a nice rack and ass, but all of that was ruined the instant she opened that fat mouth of hers. She annoyed the hell out of him, and he'd only known her for a few short hours.

"Dallas?" Charlotte pulled away from him, dropping the damp cloth onto the bed. "Where's my Lily Belle? Oh no, you didn't leave her out there, did you? She's never been out on her own, Dallas-"

He sighed.

"If you;d shut up for a second I'd tell you. The dog's in the bathroom, I didn't want it shittin' all over my floor. I can't stand cleanin' up after other people's shit."

Dallas wrinkled his nose in disgust and walked out the door.

After a beat, Charlotte rolled her eyes and followed the surly boy out into the hallway. She heard the party before she saw it. The minute she stepped out of the bedroom Charlotte could hear nothing but country music and the loud chatter of drunk voices. It sounded as if it was all coming from downstairs, and the thought made Charlotte queasy. She was extremely nervous at parties, never drinking or joining in on the antics. She hated being surrounded by so many people.

Dallas reappeared, holding Lily Belle's leash. Charlotte rushed towards her beloved lab and knelt down, rubbing her ears affectionately.

"There you are, Lily Belle!" The dog wagged her tail and licked Charlotte's face in greeting.

"C'mon. I'm not in the mood to deal with your folks shit. It's already ten-thirty, past princess' curfew, I bet."

Dallas smirked and ran a hand through his hair. He had shrugged on a muscle shirt and his brown leather jacket while Charlotte was busy greeting her dog and was now standing by the stairs.

As soon as Charlotte stood up, Dallas impatiently started down the staircase, weaving in and out of the drunken swaying bodies easily. Charlotte, on the other hand, was tugging along an incredibly nervous dog and found she was getting a lot more stares than Dallas.

At first, Charlotte assumed this was because of her very Soc-y outfit in a very greaser place, but then she caught snippets of the conversations that were being had in the room. "Upstairs with Dallas Winston"... "Probably slept with him"... "Another one of his whores"...

Charlotte's face burned and she quickened her pace. Who were they to judge her? She hadn't done anything but leave a room with Dallas. That didn't mean anything.

"Dallas! Did you hear what they were all saying about me?"

Charlotte caught up with the boy once they were out of the house and in the front yard.

"The hell does it matter?" He muttered, lighting up a cigarette without so much as a glance towards Charlotte.

What was his problem? And did he constantly have to smoke?

"Why, it matters to me, of course! I'm going to be living here for the next few months, and the last thing I need is a terrible reputation to start off with!" Charlotte snapped in response, rolling her eyes at the boy for the thousandth time that night.

Dallas, instead of looking apologetic, only sneered.

"Me? Fuck you? Hell no, princess. No one's gonna believe that, trust me."

Charlotte's face burned with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. She wasn't sure why, but Dallas' crude comments stung. She knew that she wasn't exactly his type of girl, and she honestly didn't want to be, but it was still rude, nonetheless.

"You know what, Dallas? I think I can find my own way home. Thanks for bringing me here, but trust me, honey, I won't be asking for any more favors. That's for damn sure."

Charlotte spat the last words before turning on her heel and marching away, Lily Belle in tow. She felt satisfied, though a little guilty, until Dallas opened his mouth and retorted.

"Goddamn, you're such a bitch!" Dallas swore, kicking at the dirt at his feet.

For a second Charlotte was afraid she'd crossed a line and he was going to come after her, but for all of his faults, Dallas Winston wouldn't hit a woman. So, she carried on, steadily walking further and further away from the boy who infuriated her so, and Dallas stayed, staring angrily at the spot where he'd last seen her.