"You're beautiful," Connor blurted, and Simon just scowled at him. "What?" Connor said. "It's true."
Simon looked at himself in the mirror; a very pretty girl looked back at him.
Connor put a hand carefully on Simon's shoulder. "Stop it," Simon said.
"Being more comforting now that I'm your sister, not your brother."
Connor took the hand away, and then sat on the bed. "Why am I the only one that remembers you were a boy?"
"I don't know," Simon snapped, "why are you the only one that knows Mary's a Slayer?"
"Dude," and Connor's eyes widened, "maybe you're a slayer."
For a brief second, Simon's heart jumped a little. A slayer. Like Mary. Like Connor. Like the family that his parents practically disowned and the ones that he actually respected. A slayer. *useful* in the fight, not like--
"No," Simon said, finally, and sat beside Connor. "I'm just some dumb girl, like Dawn." Stuck into the world as an afterthought, created unnaturally and slotted uneasily into the lives of people around her.
Connor said, "I love you, bro," and put an arm around Simon's shoulders, and pulled Simon against him. Simon let him.