"And then I met that vampire..." Jason asks if it was Liam -- "Bald-headed, tattoos, crazy?" -- and she laughs. "No! Actually, he had a lot of hair. I met him in Shreveport at the vampire bar." And then she let him bite her? Let him inside? "Yeah, and I'm not... I'm not ashamed of that." Touching something new and dark, exploring ways of intimacy; she reassures herself and then tells him to get off the high horse. "Is that who you thought I was tonight? When you started rubbing up against me like a cat in heat?" She swears she knew it was him, touching his stomach and his cock, soothing him, but he's not having it. He gets weird. "You're a lying sack of shit! You would fuck that vampire, and let him bite you, if he showed up tonight." Jason's imaginary vampire, his nighttime double, that killed Maudette, that chased him into Dawn's arms, that's getting closer: What if it weren't a vampire at all?
"All right," Dawn says, finally offended, standing: "Now this is getting boring." She slips her panties on and asks him to leave, and he laughs. The prerogative of men, to go where they will, invited or not. She reminds him its her house, and he keeps laughing. Boys. She takes it to the next Defcon: "God, just because you lost your hard-on doesn't mean you have to have a fucking meltdown. Believe it or not, the world does not revolve around your dick." He's offended, and she stalks off; when he whines at her she screams hilariously that she's going TO GET A CIGARETTE! He considers the condom on himself sadly, and takes it off, defeated.
"It isn't like I don't know that you're a great fuck," she says from the other room, over his protests. "It happens to every guy at some point or another," she says, returning with a gun pointed at his head: "...Except for vampires." He laughs at her, but she's not kidding around. It's the Jason Stackhouse filibuster: keep being adorable and doing what you want, and they'll give in every time. His response, awesomely, is to start flossing his teeth -- still in bed, still wearing the ridiculous gloves -- but she's not kidding around. "You do not own me, Jason Stackhouse. And if I want you out of my house, you better get your sorry ass out of here." He blows her off, flossing, and she shoots a bullet into the floor, startling him into the air.
"You are obnoxious and full of yourself and dumber than a box of hair," Dawn says seductively, crawling towards him on the bed, in her panties. "And now you can't even get it up? There's no reason why I should be seeing you anymore." Jason fumbles, trying to get his pants on. "You're fucking crazy!" She agrees, and tells him to leave again. "I don't think I feel like waiting," she says, as he stumbles away, his jeans half-on, and fires again. "Get the fuck out!" He's wearing unzipped jeans and elbow-length gloves. He should not be half as hot as he is right now.