Introduction
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| Intervention | Spiral |
Buffy stops by her poetry class as it’s letting out. Professor Lillian is struggling to pull a stuck slide out of a projector. Buffy volunteers to give it a try while she talks with him. She’s there to tell him that she is dropping the class. In fact she’s dropping all her classes. She has to drop out of school to take care of her sister.
Professor Lillian isn’t surprised. He tells Buffy he’s been expecting this, and that he’s very sorry about her loss.
Buffy pulls some forms out of her purse that she needs him to sign. He does so and hands them back to her. Buffy thanks him, and puts them back in her purse, but she doesn’t go. The professor asks her if there’s anything else she needs.
“No,” says Buffy. “Yes. Yeah.” She goes back to working on getting the slide out of the projector. “I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed this class. I mean, I know that I wasn’t the best student, but I really learned a lot, and I really like poetry. I really do.” The slide suddenly pops free and goes sailing across the room. “Ooh. Sorry.”
“I’m glad you like poetry, Buffy,” says Professor Lillian.
“I wish I had time for it, but I just don’t right now.”
“Well, maybe short poems,” he says.
“Yeah, like those Japanese ones that, um, sound like a sneeze?”
“Haiku?” asks the professor.
“Right,” says Buffy. “Maybe those. And hopefully, I’ll be back next semester. When I’m more myself again.”
“Benjamin. This is a pleasant surprise,” says Dr. McCarthy—the doctor who supervises the interns at Sunnydale Memorial Hospital. Ben apologises for being late.
“You’re not late,” says Dr. McCarthy.
Ben looks at his watch. “But, sir—”
“You can’t be late to a job that you don’t have.” Ben’s boss has decided to give Ben’s job to someone who will actually show up for it. “Honest to god, Ben. I’ve been calling you for two weeks. Where the hell you been? I didn’t want to— I’m sorry to fire you, but I need somebody I can count on.”
“I haven’t been here…?” Ben is clearly confused, but he starts to cover quickly. “I haven’t been here in two weeks. There’s an explanation for this, which I can’t exactly give you. I— Can I just tell you it’s not my fault?”
“Sure,” says Dr. McCarthy. “You can also tell me that the dog ate your homework or maybe eating twinkies made you do it. Or maybe, yeah, that there’s really a wicked, demonic creature living inside you that takes control of your body and forces you to do its bidding.” He sighs. “Take responsibility for your actions, Ben.”
“I— This…” Ben turns and starts to walk away. “You know, forget it. Just forget it.”
Ben cleans out his locker, throwing his things into a duffel bag. “This is so unfair,” he says to himself. “You’re taking everything away from me. Everything I worked for, I earned, I care about. These are my choices. This is my life, and you’re ruining it.” He feels Glory starting to take control again. “No. No. Not here. Not now. Please.” He starts pounding his fist on the locker door. “I’m Ben. I’m Ben. I’m Ben. I’m Ben. I’m Ben. I’m Ben. I’m Ben. I’m Ben!”
Glory’s hand slaps the locker door. “I’m hungry.”
Glory luxuriates in her bubble bath, attended by three blindfolded minions: Jinx, Murk, and Slook. Slook holds a glass of mimosa on silver platter, and Jinx has a box of chocolates. Glory blows bubbles at her minions. “Lot of sucky things in this dimension. Bubble baths? Not one of ’em. Know what I mean?”
“I’m in thunderous agreement, glittering, glistening Glorificus,” says Jinx.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” says Glory.
“Uh, begging your pardon, and begging in general, but were you talking to me?” asks Murk.
“Eww. Yeah, right,” says Glory. “Like any of you have ever bathed anyway.”
“Oh, but we do, your scrumptiousness,” says Murk. “We bathe in your splendiferous radiance, your aromatic—”
Glory wants her minions to shut up. She is not pleased with them. “I asked for the Key, and you brought me a vampire. A pulseless, impure, follicly-fried vampire. Loofah.” Murk hands her a loofah, and she takes it and starts to scrub her foot. “So, what I think we have here is a failure for you to do your frickin’ jobs! Pardon my French. Mimosa.” Slook holds out the glass on the tray, and she takes it and sips. “Mmm. Vitamins. So I think you better rack your little minion brains and tell me everything that you saw when you were spying on Buffy and her wacky pals. Everything. Then I’ll figure out who the Key is.”
“You lied to me?” asks Buffy.
“Didn’t lie exactly,” says Dawn.
“Really? What about all the times I asked you how school was and you said ‘fine?’” asks Buffy.
“Well, it was,” says Dawn. “You didn’t ask if I was in it when it was fine.”
They are both sitting in the principal’s office at Dawn’s school. Buffy turns her attention back to the woman sitting behind the desk. “I don’t know what to say,” she tells Principal Stevens. “I’m sure you’re aware that the past few months, you know, have been kind of hard for Dawn. Not that I’m saying that’s an excuse.”
“I understand,” says Principal Stevens. “Your mother was a lovely woman, and we’ll all miss her very much. I know how difficult it must be.”
“It is,” says Buffy. “Especially for Dawn. She’s just a kid.”
“Well, I think we both know that Dawn is a lot more than just a kid,” says Principal Stevens.
Buffy and Dawn exchange a glance. Does she know?
“She’s a talented young girl with a sharp mind when she puts the effort in,” says the principal. She asks Dawn to wait outside for a few minutes while she speaks with Buffy in private.
Anya watches an elderly couple browsing through the Magic Box. Xander looks up from the comic book he’s reading. “Honey, old saying: a watched customer never buys.”
“They would if they were patriotic,” says Anya.
Xander exchanges a look with Willow, who’s sitting at the round table with him. “Okay, I’m going in. Patriotic?” he asks Anya.
“Yes,” says Anya. “I’ve recently come to realize there’s more to me than just being human. I’m also an American.”
“Yes, I suppose you are,” says Giles. “In a manner of speaking. You were born here— your mortal self.”
“Well, that’s right, foreigner,” says Anya. “So I’ve been reading a lot about the good ol’ Us of A, embracing the extraordinarily precious ideology that’s helped to shape and define it.”
“Democracy?” asks Willow.
“Capitalism,” says Anya. “A free market dependent on the profitable exchange of goods for currency. A system of symbiotic beauty apparently lost on these old people.” She looks back at the browsing couple. “Look at ’em—perusing the shelves, undressing the merchandise with their eyeballs—all ogle, no cash. It’s not just annoying, it’s un-American.”
“Appalling,” says Giles. “Almost as if they no longer think money can buy happiness.”
“Totally un-American,” says Anya. “Oh, and you know what else is un-American? French people.”
“You don’t say?” asks Willow. Anya’s heard that French people don’t tip, and she figures that old French people must be the worst.
“Ahn, how’s about we try being a bit less prejudiced and a bit more inclusive?” Xander points back and forth between himself and Willow. “Not us, just you.”
“Fine. I’m going to make those fogies buy things.” Anya walks across the shop toward the couple. She passes by Buffy and Dawn as they are coming into the shop. Dawn is looking even more sullen than usual as they greet everyone.
Giles asks Buffy how things went at the university, and she tells him she’s all dropped out. Xander welcomes her to the real world.
“Well, it’s just for now,” says Buffy. “I mean, I’m thinking that I’m probably going to go back next semester.”
Xander thinks that’s cool, and promises to support her whatever she does. “Just think of me as…as your… You know, I’m searching for supportive things, and I’m coming up all bras. So something slightly more manly, think of me as that. Seriously, whatever you need.”
What Buffy needs right now is a private talk with Giles. Xander tells her that’s cool. Buffy tells Dawn to get started on her homework, and to talk to Willow if she needs any help.
“I just don’t know what I’m going to do.” Buffy tells Giles in her training room. “She’s messing up. I’m messing up. It’s a mess.”
Giles thinks that Buffy is just going to have to put her foot down.
Buffy’s been trying, but she isn’t very good at that sort of thing. “I want you to do it. You can be the foot-putting-downer.”
Giles doesn’t think he can do it.
“Please? Pretty please?” pleads Buffy, “I mean, your foot is way bigger than mine, and you’re so much more a grown-up than me. Dawn needs an authority figure, a strong guiding hand. She’ll listen to you.”
“Just like you always have,” says Giles.
“I listen,” says Buffy. Giles just looks at her. “I do!”
“Well, then perk up your ears,” says Giles. “I may be a grown-up, but you’re her family. Her only real family now. She needs you to do this.”
“Right,” says Buffy. “She needs me. Me, the grown-up, the authority figure, the strong guiding hand, and stompy foot that is me. Okay. I can do this.” She gets up and starts toward the door.
“I know you can.”
Buffy turns back to Giles. “Please?”
“No.” Giles puts his hands on Buffy’s shoulders, turns her around, and pushes her toward the door back into the shop.
“Okay. Here we go,” says Buffy. “Early to bed, early to rise. Balanced breakfasts, hospital corners…”
“…it’s a new beginning.” Buffy walks out into the shop. “Discipline, authority, order.” She stops when she hears Dawn, Willow, Xander and Anya all laughing. Dawn is standing surrounded by the others lying on the floor around her in a triangle.
“What is this?” asks Buffy. “I thought I told you to do your homework.”
“I was!” says Dawn.
“Please don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not!” says Dawn.
Willow tells Buffy that they were just acting out Dawn’s geometry problem by making a triangle with their bodies. “And that’s when I called Xander ‘obtuse,’ and he got really grumpy, and then Dawn said we were ‘acute’ triangle, and, well, hilarity ensued.”
Buffy doesn’t really care. She thinks that maybe Dawn should be doing her homework at home, and tells Dawn to collect her things.
“Please don’t be grouchy with her,” says Willow. “Who among us can resist the allure of really funny math puns?”
“It’s really important that Dawn finishes her school work right now,” says Buffy.
“Yeah, I know,” says Willow, “But we were having good, clean, educational fun. And then all of the sudden, it was all gloom and doom and the outlawing of human triangles.”
“It’s really important that Dawn finishes her school work right now,” says Buffy again.
“I know it is, and I’m a big fan of school,” says Willow. “You know me. I’m like, Go school, it’s your birthday!” She sings, and does a little dance. “Or something to that effect.”
Buffy tells Willow that she knows she means well, but she just doesn’t understand. Willow thinks she does understand. Buffy is getting stressed out.
“I’m more than stressed out,” says Buffy. “I’m freaked out.”
Willow thinks that Buffy could use a break to de-freak, and invites her to join her and Tara at the World Culture Fair, and to bring Dawn. It will be good, educational fun.
“I can’t do it, Will,” says Buffy. “Don’t worry, it’s not like I don’t have a life. I do. I have Dawn’s life.” She asks Dawn if she’s ready to go.
“So it’s her,” says Glory. “Under our noses all this time. I like the detail work those monks did. Quirks, foibles, passions. It’s all so cute, so…human. You know? Pretty convincing, really. But not convincing enough.” She stands up. “You all know your assignments. I think it’s time to collect the Key.”
Glory starts toward the door, and her minions fall into line behind her.
Willow sits on her bed, pulling on her boots, and tells Tara about how Buffy was behaving with Dawn. Tara thinks its pretty understandable, Buffy has to look after Dawn now.
“Yeah, but not in a Miss Minchin’s Select Seminary for Girls way,” says Willow, “I mean, she’s just going to make Dawnie more rebellious.”
“I had to deal with my brother’s problems after—” says Tara, “I mean, you can’t really know what it’s like to—”
“Yeah, I know that,” says Willow.
Tara looks hurt, and sits down on the bed beside Willow. “I didn’t mean to—”
“No,” says Willow, “I just— I know I can’t know what you went through. But I just… It’s no big.”
Tara is afraid she’s made Willow angry, but Willow tells her to forget it.
“No, please,” says Tara, “I mean, tell me if I said something wrong. Otherwise, I know I’ll say again, probably often and in public.”
“No, I was snippy gal,” says Willow. “It’s just… I know I can’t on some level— It’s like my opinion isn’t worth anything because I haven’t been through— I didn’t lose my mom, so I don’t know.”
“Well, I-I’m not the expert,” says Tara. “I mean, I’ve only lost the one. Do…I act like the big knowledge woman?”
“No,” says Willow.
“Is that ‘no’ spelled Y-E-S?” asks Tara.
“S-O-R-T of,” says Willow. “I mean, I just feel like the junior partner. You’ve been doing everything longer than me. You’ve been out longer, you’ve been practicing witchcraft way longer.”
“Oh, but you’re way beyond me there,” says Tara. “In just a few— I mean, it-it frightens me how powerful you’re getting.”
“That’s a weird word,” says Willow.
Tara knows what she said wrong. “‘Getting?’”
“It frightens you?” asks Willow. “I frighten you?”
Tara stands up, and starts to pace. “That is so not what I meant. I meant it impresses— impressive.”
“Well, I took Psych 101,” says Willow, “I mean, I took it from an evil government scientist who was skewered by her Frankenstein-like creation before the final, but I know what a Freudian Slip is. D-d-don’t you trust me?”
“With my life,” says Tara.
“That’s not what I mean,” says Willow. Tara thinks they should just go to the Fair, but Willow isn’t feeling multicultural at the moment. She stands up too. “What is it about me that you don’t trust?”
Tara tells Willow that it isn’t a matter of trust, but she worries sometimes about how quickly Willow is changing. “I don’t know where you’re heading.”
“Where I’m heading?” asks Willow.
“I’m saying everything wrong.”
“No, I think you’re being pretty clear,” says Willow. “This isn’t about the witch thing, it’s about the other changes in my life.”
“I trust you,” says Tara, “I just… I don’t know where I’m going to fit in…in your life when—”
“When…I change back?” asks Willow. “Yeah, this is a college thing, just a little experimentation before I get over the thrill and head back to Boys’ Town. You think that?”
“Should I?” asks Tara.
“I’m really sorry that I didn’t establish my lesbo street cred before I got into this relationship,” says Willow. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever fallen in love with, so how on earth could you ever take me seriously?” She starts toward the door.
“Willow, please.”
“Have fun at the Fair,” says Willow before slamming the door behind her.
Jinx and Murk creep up onto the front porch of Buffy’s house and look through the window. Buffy and Dawn are in the dining room. Dawn is sitting at the table working on her homework while Buffy folds freshly washed tea towels.
Buffy tells Dawn that they should make a chart. Buffy will write down all the tasks that Dawn has to accomplish, with a box beside them where Dawn can put an ‘X’ when they’re done. Dawn just looks at her.
“What?” asks Buffy. “You want gold stars? Okay, you can have gold stars.”
Dawn doesn’t want gold stars. She doesn’t want any of this. Buffy tells her she’s just trying to give her a normal life.
“Well, good luck,” says Dawn. Buffy looks at her. “What?” asks Dawn. “What am I doing wrong now?”
“This is for real, Dawn.”
“No, it’s not,” says Dawn. “I’m not real, so why would my exciting graph of chores be real? Who cares if a Key gets an education, anyway?” She slams her textbook shut.
“It’s a chart, not a graph,” says Buffy, “And you are real.”
“Yeah?” asks Dawn. “Those monks put grades K through eight in my head. Can’t we just wait and see if they drop nine in there, too?”
Buffy slams her hand down on the table. “Damn it, Dawn! This is serious.”
“Why?” asks Dawn. “Why should I care about any of this?”
“Because they’ll take you away!” says Buffy.
Dawn pauses a long time before asking Buffy what she means.
“They’ll take you away from me,” says Buffy. “That’s what your principal told me when you weren’t in the room. If I can’t make you go to school, then I won’t be found fit to be your legal guardian.”
“Where would I go?” asks Dawn.
“I don’t know,” says Buffy. “Dad, maybe…or foster care. I didn’t— I didn’t really want to ask.”
“You could’ve told me that,” says Dawn.
“I just did,” says Buffy.
Tara sits alone on a bench in the park with the World Culture Fair going on around her. A group of people with a Chinese dragon weave through the crowd.
Willow sits alone in the corner of the Magic Box.
Tara feels someone’s hand taking hold of hers, entwining their fingers together, and turns hoping to see Willow.
“Is this seat taken?” asks Glory.
Willow leans against the counter in the Magic Box while Giles opens a box which has just arrived in the shop. He looks at her and asks if she’s all right. Willow says she’s fine.
“Ah, yes,” says Giles, “Because your good mood is both obvious and contagious.”
“I had a fight with Tara,” says Willow. “It was awful.”
Giles is sorry to hear that. He knows that Willow and Tara don’t quarrel much. Willow tells him they never fought, until today.
“Well, it’s over,” says Giles.
“Over? How can it be over?” asks Willow. “I—I just found her.”
“The quarrel is over,” says Giles, “And you’ll feel better when you’ve made your apologies and you’ll know that you can fight without the world ending.”
Giles hears something by the side door, and walks toward it while he continues to talk. “I know it all seems bleak now, but, as they say, this, too…”
Giles yanks open the door, and Slook—who was leaning against it listening—starts to fall into the shop. Giles smashes the door shut against his head, stunning him. “…shall pass.”
Giles grabs Slook by the collar of his robe, and pulls him into the shop. “Now, what do we have here?” He shoves Slook into a chair.
“Oh, he’s one of those things that work for Glory,” says Anya.
“Yes,” says Giles. “How helpful.”
“I do, indeed, work for the God,” says Slook. “Let me go if you do not wish to incur her anger.”
Giles points out that Glory isn’t there, giving them a marvelous opportunity to talk.
“I will not betray Glorificus. I will never talk, no matter what heinous torture—”
“Actually, you’re talking quite a lot, just not about the right things,” says Giles. “Tell us why you’re here.”
“No word shall pass my lips that will bring peril to Glorificus.”
Giles asks Willow and Tara to get the twine off the shop counter to tie the minion up. They turn away to go get it. They hear a sickening crunch, and Slook cries out in pain. They spin back.
“Don’t. I’ll tell you anything!” says Slook. Giles is standing calmly in front of him, wiping his hands on his handkerchief. “Please! Whatever you want to know! Just— I’ll— anything.”
“What happened?” asks Anya.
“He changed his mind,” says Giles.
Slook tells them how he was watching the Slayer’s people while Glory collects the Key.
“Glory knows who the Key is?” asks Willow.
“Oh, god!” says Giles.
“We’ve got to call Buffy!” says Anya.
“Too late. Too late,” says Slook. “Glorificus will find the witch, and there’s nothing you can do to stop her.”
“Witch?” asks Anya. “What do you mean?”
“Tara!” says Willow. She starts to run for the door.
“She’s the new one among you,” says Slook. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. The Glorious One will have found her by now.”
Giles calls for Willow to wait for him, but Willow tells him to call Buffy, and to go check Tara’s room. She’s going to the Fair.
“Oh, this is nice.” Glory tells Tara. “Just hanging out. Just us girls. You like this sort of thing, don’t you?”
Glory squeezes Tara’s hand and bones break. Tara starts to cry out in pain.
“Don’t…make a sound,” says Glory.
Tara desperately looks around for someone to help her, but Glory tells her not to bother. She’d just kill anyone who tried. “And it’ll all be your fault.” She squeezes Tara’s hand harder, and it starts to bleed. “Kinda funny, isn’t it? All these people here and no one who can do a thing. Not a person who can help you. But that’s people for ya. They’re pretty worthless. But Keys, on the other hand… Keys are worth a very lot.”
Glory lifts Tara’s hand up to her mouth, and licks the blood. The taste of the blood disgusts her. She spits it out. “You lying little tramp! You’re not the Key. You’re nothing! Just another worthless human being. I…hate being lied to. It makes me feel so betrayed.” Her mood suddenly brightens. “Hey…you want to make it all better? If you tell me who the Key really is, I’ll let you go.” She squeezes Tara’s hand again.
“Think about it,” says Glory. “You think your hand hurts? Imagine what you’d feel with my fingers wiggling in your brain. It doesn’t kill you. What it does…is make you feel like you’re in a noisy little dark room, naked and ashamed, and there are things in the dark that need to hurt you because you’re bad.” Glory speaks as if she has very personal knowledge of how this feels. “Little pinching things that go in your ears and crawl on the inside of your skull. And you know, if the noise and the crawling would stop, that you could remember how to get out. But you never, ever will.”
She squeezes again, and Tara whimpers in fear and pain. “Who is the Key?” asks Glory.
Tara clenches her jaw, and looks Glory in the eye.
“Fine.” Glory strokes the side of Tara’s face with her fingers. “Let’s get crazy.”
Willow runs through the park looking for Tara. She recites a protection spell as she runs.
“By force of heart and mindful power,
by waning time and waxing hour,
I echo Diana, um, when I decree…
Willow’s having trouble remembering the words. “Uh…what is it…what is it?” She sees Tara and Glory sitting on the bench together as Glory’s fingers sink into Tara’s skull. “No! No!” The people circling the park with the Chinese dragon block off her view.
“That she I love must now be free!”
When the dragon passes Willow sees Tara sitting alone on the bench. Glory has vanished. Willow runs to her. “Tara! No! Tara! Tara, are you okay?”
“It’s dirty.” Tara brushes at herself with her uninjured hand. “It’s all dirty. And all over me. Dirty, dirty. Bad, bad.”
Willow hugs Tara, and cries. “Tara. Tara, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Giles looks at the x-rays of Tara’s hand stuck up on the light board on the wall of the hospital examining room. Willow asks Dr. McCarthy if she can take Tara home now. Tara is sitting on the examining table wearing a hospital gown with her hand all bandaged up. The doctor tells Willow that they will have to keep Tara overnight for observation.
“It’s poisoned,” says Tara. “Why don’t I tell you that? It—it has to be checked, though.”
“She your sister?” the doctor asks Willow.
“She’s my everything,” says Willow.
Dr. McCarthy tells Willow that she can get Tara released in the morning. There are still a few tests and things that they want to do before they let Willow take her home. He leaves to get a nurse to take Tara to the psych ward.
“Man, words cannot express how much I hate this place,” says Xander.
“It’s dreadful,” says Giles.
“It’s like communism,” says Anya.
Buffy arrives. She’s sorry she took so long, but she had to get Dawn someplace safe—with Spike—before she came.
Tara looks at Buffy and smiles. “They kill mice.” Buffy gives Tara a hug.
“I can stay as long as you need.” Buffy tells Willow.
Dawn and Spike have taken refuge in a cave. He tells her that she has nothing to worry about, no one will hurt her as long as she’s with him.
“Oh, yeah?” Dawn shines her flashlight in his face. “The same no one who did that to you?”
Spike’s face is a swollen mass of black, blue and purple bruises. He tells Dawn that they are nothing to worry about. “Hey, chin up, Platelet. Don’t get scared. Maybe Glory doesn’t want to kill you. Maybe it’s something—”
“Worse?” asks Dawn. Spike turns away from her, and Dawn sits down on a rock.
Spike paces around the cave for a bit, walking with a limp, before coming back up behind her. He reaches his hand out toward her head. “Hey—”
Dawn spins to face Spike, and he pulls his hand away and pretends to scratch his head.
“You want to know what I’m scared of, Spike?” asks Dawn. “Me. Right now, Glory thinks Tara’s the Key. But I’m the Key, Spike. I am. And anything that happens to Tara is ’cause of me. Your bruises, your limp, that’s all me, too. I’m like a lightning rod for pain and hurt. And everyone around me suffers and dies. I must be something so horrible…to cause so much pain…and evil.”
“Rot!” says Spike.
“What do you know?”
“I’m a vampire. I know something about evil. You’re not evil.”
“Maybe I’m not evil,” says Dawn. “But I don’t think I can be good.”
“Well, I’m not good, and I’m okay,” says Spike.
“Don’t! Please don’t with that treachery,” says Tara as the nurse takes her away in a wheelchair. “I told the cats. And now I beg my mother, sitting all alone.”
Willow isn’t happy letting her go, but Xander tells her it’s just for one night.
“Yeah, I know,” says Willow, “but it’s a whole night. I don’t think I can sleep without her.”
“You can sleep with me!” says Anya. Everyone looks at her. “Well, now, that came out a lot more lesbian than it sounded in my head.”
Buffy tells Willow that she needs to get some rest. There’s nothing she can do.
“Yes, there is.” Willow starts away down the hall.
Buffy stops her. She knows what Willow is thinking, and there is no way she can take on Glory.
“You saw what she did to Tara,” says Willow. “I can’t let her get away with it.”
“No, you have to let her get away with it,” says Buffy. “Even I’m no match for her. You know that.”
“But maybe I am,” says Willow.
“You’re not. And I won’t let you go,” says Buffy. “This is not the time.”
“When, Buffy? When is? When you feel like it? When it’s someone you love as much as I love Tara? When it’s Dawn, is that it?”
“When we have a chance,” says Buffy. “We’ll fight her when we have a chance. You wouldn’t last five minutes with her, Willow. She’s a god.”
“Fine,” says Willow. “I’ll wait.”
“It’s the only way.”
Willow turns and starts to walk away from Buffy.
“Can I do anything?” asks Buffy.
“Just let me be alone.” Willow walks away down the hall.
Willow runs into the Magic Box, and up the ladder into the loft. She pulls a black leather bag off a shelf and starts searching for the things she needs, putting them into the bag.
Willow pulls books off of the shelves, looking for one in particular. She finds it hidden behind some other books and pulls it out. A large locked volume entitled Darkest Magick. She uses a hatchet to break open the lock, and the book flips open. The pages turn rapidly, as if blown by a strong wind.
Glory comes down the stairs in her apartment followed by her minions. She’s weaving a little on her feet. “You know, I think I’m a little buzzed from eating that witch! What a mind she had. Mmm, nummy treat.”
Jinx is a little concerned about what the Slayer might do now, but Glory isn’t. She knows she’s getting close to the Key. “Girl like Buffy’s got just so many friends, all I got to do is rip through ’em, one by one until I finally…” She stops. There is a rumbling noise, and her apartment begins to shake. A stone sculpture falls off the mantle and shatters on the hearth of her fireplace. “Did anybody order an apocalypse?”
The apartment doors fly open, and Willow floats through them. Her eyes have turned completely black.
“Kali, Hera, Kronos, Tonic
Air like nectar, thick as onyx.
Cassiel by your second star.”
Glory’s minions run for cover.
Glory is not impressed. “Oh, it’s the lover. That’s so cute.” She starts toward Willow.
“Hold mine victim, as in tar.”
The air around Glory thickens, holding her in place. “I. Owe. You. Pain!” says Willow. Lighting flies from her hands into Glory.
Glory screams.
Buffy joins Dawn and Spike in the cave. Dawn asks how Willow’s doing.
“She was looking to go all paybacky on Glory for a minute, but I cooled her down a little,” says Buffy. “Actually, a lot.”
“So she’s not going to do anything rash then?” asks Spike.
“No,” says Buffy. “I explained that there was no point.”
“Mm-hmm,” says Spike.
“What?” asks Buffy.
“So you’re saying that…a powerful and mightily pissed-off witch was planning on going and spilling herself a few pints of god blood until you, what…’explained?’”
Buffy and Dawn exchange a glance. “You think she’d—?” asks Buffy. “No. I told Willow it would be like suicide.”
“I’d do it.” Spike looks at the ground, and shuffles his feet. “Right person. Person I loved. I’d do it.”
“Think, Buffy,” says Dawn. “If Glory had done that to me.”
Buffy runs from the cave.
Willow shatters a mirror, sending shards of glass flying toward Glory. They rip Glory’s dress to shreds.
“Is that it? Is that the best you can do?” asks Glory. “You think I care about all this? The apartment, the clothes?” She rips off the tattered remains of her dress, and stands before Willow in her black slip. She hits Willow with the back of her hand, and knocks her across the room. “Now, sucking on your girlfriend’s mind? That was something to treasure.”
Willow gets back to her feet and stares at Glory. The black bag slides across the floor to her.
“What’s this? Bag of tricks?” asks Glory.
“Bag of knives,” says Willow. A dozen knives rise up out of the bag, and fly toward Glory. She swats them aside without getting a single nick.
“Spirit of serpents now appear…” says Willow. Glory picks up a table and throws it at her, knocking her to the floor. Willow looks up at her. “…hissing, writhing, striking near.” A snake rises out of the carpet and entwines itself around Glory’s leg.
Glory kicks, and the snake vanishes into dust. “Now this is getting weak.” Glory walks across the room and grabs Willow by the throat. “And so are you, honey. Aren’t ya?”
Willow spits in her face.
Glory grabs Willow by the hair and drags her across the room. She scoops up one of Willow’s knives off the floor. She picks up Willow and pushes her against the wall. She holds Willow by the throat and raises the knife. “You know what they used to do to witches, lover? Crucify ’em.”
Buffy grabs Glory’s wrist. “They used to bow down to gods.” She kicks Glory in the stomach. “Things change!”
Glory drops Willow and Buffy throws Glory across the room. She follows after her and kicks Glory in the head a couple of times. Buffy and Glory exchange some more punches and kicks.
“That witch really slowed me down!” Glory catches Buffy and tosses her across her sofa. Buffy kicks at the sofa, knocking it back into Glory, She picks up Willow and helps her toward the door. Glory tosses the sofa aside and starts to follow them.
Willow gestures back toward her. “Thicken!” The air around Glory congeals, holding her in place while she and Buffy escape.
“This isn’t over, you hear me?” Glory yells after them. “It isn’t over!”
Buffy, Dawn and Willow are all with Tara in her room. Buffy pulls sandwiches for them out of a bag. Chicken salad for Willow, eggplant for herself. “Salami with…” She looks at the sandwich. “Eww, peanut butter?” She holds the sandwich out to her sister. “Dawn.”
Dawn takes the sandwich. “Yeah, like eggplant is normal. It’s what, half egg, half plant? ’Cause that’s just unnatural.”
Willow asks what they have for Tara, and Dawn says she made her a tuna sandwich, but she wasn’t sure what she’d like.
Tara looks at the plastic wrapped sandwich. “Plastic and their sick sisters. Sick six sisters.” She looks around in confusion. “Willow?”
Willow tells Tara that they’ll just start slow. She opens an apple sauce container, and starts spoon feeding Tara from it. Dawn asks if she can help, and Willow hands it over to her. Buffy asks Willow what she’s going to need.
Willow doesn’t know yet. The hospital gave her some medications to keep Tara calm, and told her that she might have to restrain her at night. “But…sometimes she’s fine. She looks at me and…she’s fine.”
Buffy is sorry she couldn’t do anything to stop this, but Willow tells her it’s okay. “I’m going to take care of her. Even if she never… She’s my girl.”
Buffy looks at Dawn, and reaches out to stroke her hair. “I understand.”
“I know you do,” says Willow. “Hear that, baby?” she asks Tara. “You’re my always.” She kisses Tara on the forehead.
The wall of Tara’s room gets ripped away. Glory stands in the opening she has just made. “I told you this wasn’t over.”
“No!” cries Tara. “The place is cracking. It’s cracking! Cracking, no, no!”
“Oh, no, Tara, it’s okay,” says Dawn.
Tara looks at Dawn. “Oh, look at that. Look at that. Oh, the light. Oh, it’s so pure. Such pure, green energy.” Dawn gasps and looks at Glory. “Oh, it’s so beautiful.”
Glory looks at Dawn and smiles.