Episode 86: Of Doubts and Angels

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by 3D Master (3dmaster@telfort.nl)

Disclaimer see Episode 79.

Spike entered the Buffy household through the side entrance, and called into the kitchen, “I’ll be in the gym.” He promptly disappeared.

Dawn, Willow and Buffy were sitting at the breakfast table in the kitchen.  Which was really a breakfast counter.  Xander and Tara were already off to their classes.  Buffy was lying half asleep, with her head resting on her forearms.  Dawn took a quick note of Spike’s entrance, and noticed how often and how long he was training, then realized she really didn’t care.  Willow chewed her bread, and after swallowing she said, “Buffy, eat something.  We’re going to be late if you don’t.”

“Or Buffy hungry,” Dawn pointed out economically, taking a spoonful of cereal into her mouth, and crunched away.  She watched as Buffy stirred.

“I don’t wanna, can’t I stay in this once,” Buffy asked the others, shifting her position to find a more comfortable one.

Willow sighed, and Dawn took another bite, tastefully chewing the sugary goodness. “Buffy, do you want to sit on your ass all your life, or do something?”

Buffy smiled and said, “Thanks to Xander, I’m rich enough to just sit on my ass all my life.”

“And will that make you proud of yourself?  Coasting on the interest?” Willow asked the blonde.

Buffy raised herself and looked at Willow.  “Sometimes I really hate you, Willow,” Buffy told her best female friend, and yawned.  She looked around the table, and decided on cereal as well; nice and quick with minimal fuss; she was in a lazy mood today.  In fact; “Hey, Jesse, could you get me the coco puffs?”

A moment later a deep plate was placed in front of Buffy, the cereal box floated over, some of it was shaken into it.  Willow and Dawn looked a little astonished.  “Enough,” Buffy said after only a little bit.  The box was put back down.  Then the milk floated over and was poured inside, then a spoon floated in front of Buffy.  Buffy took the spoon, and said, “Oh, I so love having a ghost around the house.  Thanks, Jess.”

Dawn and Willow looked at Buffy with disapproving, and surprised frowns, to which Buffy gave Willow and Dawn an especially uncaring look.  Dawn took another bite, and looked from Willow to Buffy, the latter starting to eat her cereal.  “I’m surprised you’re not letting Jesse feed you,” Willow muttered darkly, and after swallowing her spoonful, Buffy stuck her tongue out at Willow, before continuing her breakfast.

“Buffy, Willow,” Dawn started, looking at the spread on the counter and then down to her own cereal.  “I wanna ask you two something.  Remember I told you that mom appeared to me?”

The redhead and the blond nodded as they continued their breakfast.  “The First Evil in disguise,” Buffy said, nodding.  “It came to almost all of us.”

“Yeah,” Dawn said, hesitated, playing with her spoon a bit.  “What if it wasn’t the First Evil?”  Buffy and Willow stopped their eating, and looked at her.  After a moment Dawn added, “Because I’ve been thinking.  The things she said, they just don’t make any sense coming from the FE.  And she felt . . . I don’t know . . . ethereal?”

“Sweety,” Buffy said, looking deep into her sister’s eyes, “that’s what it does - or rather did; it fools people, it became whatever it wanted to become, to mess with your mind, make you doubt, take you out of the game by making you question everything, or doubt yourself.”

Dawn thought about Buffy’s words, but remembered her feverish fight with the demon. “If it wanted to do that; why not simply have mom speak to me?  Why would there be a demon trying to kill me and stop me from talking with mom?”

“Playing mind games, Dawn,” Willow explained sensitively.  She paused her eating, and looked at her, “If the demon killed you, it won, if you killed it, you won.  Plus, having your mom tell you after you battled your way to her, you’d be more likely to believe it; you’d be exhausted from the fight so you’re not as critical.”

Dawn nodded weakly and looked down.  Willow and Buffy started eating again, Buffy crunching her cereal, Willow tastefully chewing her bread.  When Willow was done with her sandwich, she started preparing another one.  She looked at the pensive Dawn, and said, “Dawn?  You’re not hungry?”

Dawn looked up, and processed the question.  “Uh, yeah, it’s just that, I was thinking . . .” Dawn paused, just as Buffy crunched down on a new bite, and Willow paused her sandwich preparations.  “. . . why didn’t it send demons after you?”

“If everything is exactly the same with every one of us, we would know it wasn’t real,” Willow explained gently, and then continued, “Dawn, all of wish the ones we saw were our real loved ones, then we’d know they’re still around somewhere.  Except perhaps Tara; her mother in hell is a bit much.  But you see, all of them wish the same thing, and it isn’t bad to feel that way, but you must realize that was the First Evil in disguise, or he’ll succeed in what he came for.  Do you really want that thing to win?”

“No,” Dawn answered, shaking her head.

“Good,” Buffy said, reaching over and laying her hand supportively on Dawn’s shoulder. Dawn looked over and Buffy, and saw her smile at her, her eyes filled with sisterly love.  “It’s going to be okay, Dawn, and it can’t get to us anymore, okay?”

Dawn nodded, and continued with her breakfast, but still thinking.  When she was done, she quickly got up, and left saying, “Okay, I gotta get to school.”

Willow and Buffy finished their breakfast a little later.  “Oh, my god, we’re late,” Willow said as she checked her watch.

Buffy frowned and looked at the clock hanging on the wall.  “What do you mean?  We’ve got plenty of time.”

“We still have to clean up, Buffy,” Willow told her, indicating the counter filled with breakfast requirements.

Buffy smiled, and said, “Hey, Jesse, if you clean up for us, I promise I’ll give you an extra good show when I change for bed tonight.”  Immediately two milk cartons, one empty, one full lifted off the table.  “Thanks, Jess,” Buffy said, blowing him a kiss, while Willow’s jaws dropped in shock.  “Come on, Will,” Buffy said, jumping off her stool, “or we will be late.”

“But, but . . .” Willow said, pointing from the moving things to Buffy and back.

“I love having a ghost friend in the house, Cordelia had the right idea renting a haunted house,” Buffy said with a grin, and started to leave.

Willow got off her stool as well.  “Jesse!” Willow said angrily suddenly, making Buffy turn around.  “Have you been peeking in on me and Tara, and Dawn too!?”  A floating utensil started moving from left to right empathically.  “Show yourself!” Willow demanded, and the ghost became visible, looking nervous.  “You keep your eyes out of our, and Dawn’s rooms - I don’t care what you do with the exhibitionist over there - or I’ll find a way to make a ghost’s existence very uncomfortable and I’ll use it on you, got that?”

Jesse nodded quickly, “Got it.  Got it totally.”

Willow nodded and quickly joined Buffy.  “God, since when did you get so uptight?” Buffy asked Willow with a frown.  “I heard Cordelia had Dennis scrub her back in the bathtub and shower for her?”

“Cordelia is evil,” Willow pointed out with a grunt.  “Buffy, I think I liked you better before you had your I’m-not-superior-and-liking-sex-isn’t-dirty epiphany.”

Buffy blinked, paused her motion for a moment, and then walked after Willow.  “You’re just jealous Chris is better in bed than Tara,” Buffy snarked, not meaning a word.

“Speaking about Chris, you better hope he never finds out you’ve been giving free shows to the new resident ghost, or they’ll be hell to pay,” Willow warned darkly as they still walked toward the front door.

“And since when’s that a bad thing?” Buffy asked mischievously, her eyes sparkling with mirth.  Willow froze, and Buffy turned around walking backward slowly.  “Remember Xander’s dimension?  And to Slayer hearing, the walls aren’t that thick.”  Willow’s cheeks burned instantly, her body stiffening even more.  “Chris and me have played that game too, you know,” Buffy said with an even bigger grin, almost evil.  From the kitchen came the sudden sounds of something metallic falling to the floor.  “Jesse, if something’s broken, no show!”

“Nothing’s broken!” the hasty, ghostly voice came from there.

“Oh, god,” Willow muttered, and forced herself to walk again.

*****

Dawn was sitting at a table during lunch.  Li-Huei was sitting opposite her, and their misfit friends left and right around her.  “Buffy and Dawn and the others say it was the First Evil in disguise,” Dawn told her boyfriend.

“And you don’t?” he asked her curiously.

Dawn sighed, and looked without appetite at her lunch, moving it around with her fork. Her other friends were sitting around her.  “I’m not sure, it seems the most plausible,” Dawn said pensively, looking into the distance.

“But?” Janice asked her.

Dawn looked down at her friend, and waited for a moment, thinking.  “But . . .” she started, “. . . but she didn’t feel like mom, and yet it did.”

“Huh?” Li-Huei said.  “What I mean is, isn’t it clear cut, then?”

“No,” Dawn answered immediately, and looked deeply into his caring eyes.  “With the others, the FE made himself feel /exactly/ like that person.  With Tara and Willow it came and went so quickly and so shockingly, Tara didn’t have the time to feel that little thing of itself it couldn’t mask, that Xander could feel.  But mom . . . I don’t know how to explain this . . . she felt like, she was ‘more’ than just my mom, you know?”

“Uhm, no,” Carlos said weakly, and Dawn looked at him.

Kit helped him out, “None of us ever had a dead person come to us.”

Dawn sighed.  “Right,” Dawn muttered, and thought it over, “she felt ethereal, she seemed to radiate light, she was like . . . well, this might sound stupid, but she might have seemed like an angel.”  They all looked at her.  “I told you,” Dawn said.

“It sounded stupid, but not the way you think,” Li-Huei told her with a loving smile, then with a lower voice, “demons, vampires, gods, monsters, chi blasts, ghosts, Hellmouths are all okay, but you think ‘angel’ sounds stupid?”  Dawn blinked, and then pouted at her own words. “I love you,” Li-Huei said with a smile.

Dawn smiled, and then sighed, “What do you think?  Could it be possible?”

Li-Huei took a bite of his lunch, and took the time to think about it.  While he did so, he looked around the mess hall, letting the rustling sound of the other students talking at their tables roll off him.  Then he looked down, and at Dawn.  “I’m raised a Buddhist, Dawn,” Li-Huei said seriously, looking at Dawn.  “I’ve been taught there are no gods, except ourselves. We’re gods, we just have to realize it, and ascend.  I have to say, what you and your family can do, and how you’ve destroyed ‘gods’, that seems to be just about right.  So, if there are no gods, there aren’t any angels.  Your mother might have ascended to that elusive godhood though, and attempted a message . . . but I have to say, I doubt it, I think the First Evil is a better bet.”

Dawn looked down, and decided to take a bite from her food.  After a few moments she swallowed and muttered, “Yeah, I guess it’s a long shot, and still . . . something just feels ‘off’ with that explanation.  I don’t know how to say it.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, and then Janice said, “All I know is, Dawn, that if my mother was dead and she, or something impersonating her, appeared to me, I’d be freaked out totally.  Does it really matter, Dawn?  You got to see her again, the world’s still turning and not overrun by demons, just live life day by day, you know.”

“Yeah, but she gave me a message, a warning,” Dawn said, feeling hollow inside and deflated.

Li-Huei took her hands in his, and told her steadily, “Keep your eyes open, and be ready, but don’t start seeing ghosts.”

“That’s gonna be hard, I’ve got a ghost living in our house now,” Dawn said half serious, and several snickers came her way.

Li-Huei smiled brightly at her, and said, “You know what I mean.”

“I know, don’t start imagining things that aren’t there, don’t turn ants into elephants,” Dawn said with a sigh, and a thankful smile.

*****

“Hello, Katie,” Xander greeted the secretary.  She was sitting at her desk at the practice, and looked up as he walked in.  As he approached he took off his sunglasses and placed them in the pocket of his blouse.

“Oh, hi, Xander,” Katie answered him with a smile.

Xander walked into the tastefully furnished waiting area, and stood in front of her desk. “So, the big man wanted to see me?”

“Yeah, he’s busy finishing up an appointment now, so you need to wait,” she said, with a bright look.

“Sure, thought about what I said?” Xander asked casually.

She smiled brightly, lighting up the waiting room and her desk completely.  “I’m taking night classes,” she said with a her grin, “met a nice guy there too, he’s my boyfriend now.”

“Good for you,” Xander said, and leaned gently on her desk.

“Thanks,” she replied a little embarrassed, digging down in her books.  The door to the practice opened.  The psychiatrist and a male patient came out.  Mr. Martin gave his patient a few last pointers, and then they reached the door.  He opened it, and the patient greeted Katie goodbye.  “Bye,” she returned the greet.

Once the man was out, Martin turned around and nodded to Xander.  “Mr. Littica, if you would please come inside,” Wade said, holding out his right hand indicating the door.

“Of course, doc,” Xander said and walked over, not missing Martin’s wince at the term ‘doc’.  Xander entered first and Martin followed him in.  Once inside the spacious room, comfortably decorated like a living chamber, holding a tv, a book closet, a table and couch, along with the psychiatrist’s desk and close by chairs.  “So what’s this about?” Xander asked, as Martin walked over to his chair behind the desk.  “Willow?”

Wade paused as he reached his chair.  He placed his left arm on it, and after a moment’s thought looked up at Xander and answered, “No, and yes.”  Xander raised his eyebrows, and took the chair.  Martin pulled his chair back, before sitting down and rolling forward.  As he gathered up some papers he said, “This concerns all of you, actually.”

“Oh,” Xander said, and found a more alert position.

Martin nodded, putting the papers of his former patient away in his desk, and put a small leather folder in front of him, which he zipped open.  “You’re the defacto leader of your little group of demon hunters, right?” Wade asked professionally.

“Yeah, I seem to have gotten that position,” Xander said in answer, waiting calmly.  He had no idea what this could be about.

Martin sat a bit straighter, and then asked, “Mr. Littica, have you ever heard of combat stress reaction?”

“No,” was Xander’s short and to the point answer.

“Battle fatigue?” the psychiatrist asked as clarification.

“No,” Xander answered the same.

“Not at all?” Martin asked a little surprised.

Xander shrugged and said, “I study physics and molecular biology, not psychology.”

“And your own species?” Martin prompted, looking directly at Xander, who simply shook his head.  “How about shell shock?”

Xander frowned, thought for a moment, “Sounds familiar, but I don’t know more.  So, what is combat stress reaction then?” Xander asked, rolling the chair a little forward now, to equalize the two.

“I take it you, and your group have been fighting demons for just about six years without hardly any breaks, right?  And Ms. Summers close to eight?” Martin prompted, taking out several papers from his folder.

“Yep,” Xander said simply once more.

Martin nodded, placed his hands resolutely on his plastic desktop cover, and said, “Alright then, combat stress reaction, battle fatigue.  Combat stress reaction is a condition that happens in some humans, quite a few actually.  It was first diagnosed - well, vaguely noted - in military personnel back in 1905 by the Russians after their war with the Japanese.  It occurs when humans are in highly stressful situations, like a war, battles, and the longer they go in such a war without relief, without rest, without relaxation, the higher the chance it will occur. Symptoms are depression, loss of focus, physical fatigue, losing the will to live, sometimes the inability to make decisions.  There nothing similar in your species?”

“No,” Xander answered, then grabbed his chin and looked up in thought.  “Well, there is something . . .” Xander trailed off, making Wade nod and wondered why this intelligent guy didn’t think this could become a problem for him and his friend.  “. . . Lacking Battle Syndrom.”

“/Lacking/ Battle Syndrom?” Martin repeated astounded, eyebrows high.

Xander nodded, and said, “Some Saiyans who decided to have a job not encompassing fights, and on the way decide not to do much training because it takes too much time, or they weren’t interested, get those symptoms.  The solution is rather simple: make sure they have training fights at least several times a week; and by training fights I mean big, no holds barred, pain, and harm bringing battles.  It clears it right up.”

*That answers that question,* Martin thought rather surprised.  ‘Warrior species’ finally fully penetrated the psychiatrist’s mind.

“I take it you wanted to discuss with me the possibility of this combat stress reaction occurring with me and my friends, correct?” Xander prompted after his patience wore out.

Martin shook himself free from the implications on the psychiatry, psychological makeup, and connection to their and human’s physical being, and started, “Yes, definitely.  I believe with Willow’s fall to the dark side combat stress reaction was a contributing factor.  From what I heard of Ms. Summers’ breakdown from Ms. Rosenberg, almost all of that was induced by the same thing.   Which got us to you - albeit no longer - Ms. McClay, Ms. Dawn Summers, and even the ones fighting the good fight on Ms. Williams’ side of things.  I’ll be asking her to extend the same invitation to her associates during her next session.  I would like to, if you allow of course, discuss ways to prevent the occurrence or reoccurrence of it, and perhaps even preventive sessions.”

Xander sat still, having raised his eyebrows and thinking about it.  After a bit he said, “I’m not going to make any of them come here against their will, let’s get that clear.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, people forced to go to a psychiatrist don’t make the best of patients, although sometimes we don’t have another choice,” Martin said with a heavy tone.

Xander nodded gently, shifted in his chair, and asked, “So how does one prevent combat fatigue?”

Martin grinned, nodding, accepting Xander’s cooperation.  “Well, the main ingredient is relaxation, that is vacations, fun, laughter, things to take the edge off of the combat stress.”

“We can do that,” Xander said with a smile.

Martin smiled, “I thought you might; we should put up a tentative schedule . . .”

“One thing,” Xander said, raising his finger.  Martin raised his eyebrows in askance.  “The Watchers have been the companions of the Slayers for quite some time, as well as another group calling themselves the Hunters.  They left some Potential Slayers here.  I don’t suppose you’d be willing to work with them on a way to prevent this with them and future Slayers, would you?”

“Sure, although I do have to charge a small fee,” Martin said with a self-deprecating smile, and said, “I can work with you and your groups on this for free for the greater good, but if I start doing it for dozens of people and entire organizations . . . I do need to feed myself and my wife after all.”

“Of course, don’t worry, they’re ancient, got plenty of money to pay up,” Xander told him with a smile, “In fact, you can charge us too, we have enough.”  Martin nodded, and then they continued.

*****

Dawn walked into Giles’ guest room.  Forlorn she watched the man pack his final thinks. “You’re really going again, huh?” Dawn asked him, a little hopeful, mostly not.

Giles turned to her, holding a pair of pants in his hands.  After a moment of looking at Dawn, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Dawn closed the door, and walked over to the bed.  She said down and twiddled her fingers for a bit.  “The apparition of my mom,” Dawn said finally, and looked up at Giles.

He put the pair of pants he was holding in his suitcase and then sat down in a chair. Looking intently through his glasses at Dawn, and said, “Go on.”

“Everyone here thinks it was simply the First, but I keep not buying it.  Part of me believes it was actually mom, and I can’t shake it,” Dawn said sadly.  She shook her head, and looked up at Giles again, “I was hoping you’d stay, and help me figure this out.”

“I really have to leave, Dawn, I have responsibilities,” Giles said gravely.

“I know, and I understand, but still . . .” Dawn trailed off sadly.

“Does it matter?” Giles prompted and Dawn looked up confused, “The First or your mother.  The First is destroyed; a real apparition usually doesn’t occur more than once. Believe whatever you wish to believe and don’t bother with the others.”

Dawn grinned, looking down.  Then came back up, no longer grinning so much.  “She gave a warning; if it’s real, I know I have to stay alert, other wise I can just relax and enjoy myself.”

“You can be alert and relax at te same time,” Giles pointed out.

Dawn looked down, nodded.  “Thanks, Giles,” she said, and then hugged him close for a bit.  “I’ll leave you to it then, and have a safe trip back to England.”

Giles nodded, and said, “Thank you.  You look after yourself, Dawn.”

*****

A few days later

The gravity gym was bursting with activity.  Between Xander facing off against Buffy, some potentials, Willow versus Tara, and Dawn taking on Spike, it was a virtual beehive.

Willow stood focused on the ground, her eyes closed and hands in front of her.  With the six gs, it took her all quite some effort.  Energy flew around her, and her hair whirled around in it.  She wore a short dress, while Tara wore jeans and a top; the two having decided to train with real clothes to simulate a surprise battle today.  Tara herself was standing casually, her chi aura in her purple level, eyes glowing the same.  She relaxedly waited for what her girlfriend was going to do.

Willow focused, and a glowing fiery decagram appeared beneath her.  A moment later a ball of fire burst from the side of her, and circled around to Tara, quickly followed by others, who attacked Tara from multiple angles.  Instantly a sphere of water formed around Tara, easily half a meter thick, and the balls of fire snuffed out as they entered the cold water. Tendrils of fire reached out from Willow’s decagram, and they reached inside Tara’s protective bubble.  Willow threw more fire and heat into the tendrils and Tara’s bubble started to evaporate where the tendrils entered, allowing them to penetrate deeper.

Tara smiled, nodding with satisfaction at Willow’s improvement.  She brought up her hand and casually brought forth some of the water, then shot them forward, creating tendrils of water to move against Willow’s tendrils of fire.  The water tendrils quickly engulfed the fire, snuffing it out as it moved along them toward Willow, a little steam escaping.  Tara’s smile deepened, and she whispered a spell, while flexing her chi.  A moment later powerful currents of electricity start arching through her water bubble and then through her tendrils.

Willow raised the circling fires of her decagram around her.  The water tendrils stranded there on the protective heat, until the electricity joined the surface where water and fire connected; then blasted unharmed through the fire.  Willow’s eyes widened, and raised her hand; instantly a powerful sphere of red energy surrounded her, where the electricity stranded. Her fire died away, but Tara shot forth a few more electricity-charged water tendrils, making a total of ten that slammed into the shield all around Willow, barraging the energy powerfully.

“Ugh,” Willow muttered in disgust, feeling Tara’s far greater power slam away at her reserves.  Willow closed her eyes, and reached into the symbol of power below her, letting it whirl all around her.  She reached inside and without, down into Earth, and into the air around her.  More and more energy she claimed.  Slowly but surely her chi flame and tiny electrical sparks changed color; becoming more and more like the red energy field she had erected.  She opened her eyes again, and gently her black orbs turned to the same red color.

Tara looked surprised at Willow steady power up, the shield now easily withstanding Tara’s energy tendrils: Willow’s power had steadily grown to rival her own.  She smiled, proud of her girlfriend.  Willow grinned, and with a flick of her hand, fire once more burned, right at where Tara’s tendrils touched her shield.  The fire burned hotter and hotter, until it turned into a plasma, and then shot forward, consuming the water instantly.  A moment later the balls of super-heated plasma smashed into Tara’s protective water bubble, which Tara made freeze solid the moment they did.  Ten balls of superheated plasma were frozen inside the ice, which rapidly started evaporating.  The plasma balls pulsed and vibrated, internal pressure rapidly growing.  Tara made an opening for herself and quickly slipped out, a purple shield around her.  A moment later the plasma balls exploded, sending pellets and shards of ice everywhere, along with a lot of water vapor.

With a motion of her hands, Tara grabbed a hold of the ice pallets, super charged them with her own energy, and sent the now glowing pellets directly at Willow within a whirl of air and energy.  Willow’s eyes widened, and put her hands forward, strengthening her shield.  A moment later the energized ice slammed everywhere into her shield, which lit up with the impacts, and small circles of energy - like a stone in a pond - flowed out from every impact.

“Well, done, Willow,” Tara complimented the Redhead with a smile.

Willow smiled back softly, and said, “It took me long enough to get your level of power . . . of course, we’re not finished yet.”  Glowing with energy Willow surged forward, going directly at Tara with all strength and speed.  The blonde witch was taken totally by surprise; the witches normally didn’t make this physical, too much of a fighters way of doing things instead of a witch’s.  Willow’s shield smashed into Tara’s, the redhead yelling.  Powerful explosive arcs of energy blasted outward from the two colliding, and half-merging shields. Willow managed to get through, and with a scream of effort she managed to smash her fist into Tara’s chin, who was sent flying back rapidly.  With a moan she crashed against the training mat’s shield, and slumped down.

Willow came over quickly, “Tara, are you okay!?”  She knelt down with great concern, whimpering, “I’m so sorry!  I didn’t mean to hit you, I thought you’d be ready.  You’re ready for everything else.”

Tara groaned, as she opened her eyes and looked at Willow.  “Ugh, damn,” Tara muttered, and righted herself.  “Ow, that hurt, Willow.”

“I’m sorry,” Willow said pitifully.

“No, don’t be, this is a valuable lesson,” Tara muttered, feeling her painful chin, “sometimes a magic-wielder might just go the old-fashioned, but obviously effective way as well, not just fighters.  Ouch, I should have been ready for that.”  Willow sighed with relief. “Still, you hit me, Willow, I’m going to have to teach you a lesson for that later on.”  Willow’s eyes widened at that, and then blushed, while sputtering out something imcomplete.

*****

Over on another mat, Spike was facing off against Dawn in 55gs.  The bleach-blond vampire got a powerful uppercut against his chin, followed by a twisting kick, then sent him back. Dawn fired an energy ball after him, which Spike avoided by rapidly lowering himself to the ground.  Enraged the demon looked up at the brunette girl, who looked down with satisfaction.  This was just plain infuriating!  Not only had the Saiyan reduced him to an insect, and the Slayers had reduced him to a mere kitten, now a simple, normal, human being was equaling him.  Worse; the girl went to school, had to do homework, spent time with her friends and boyfriend, spent most of her time helping out with the FE, while he had been doing nothing but training, minus the required rest and recuperation phases, and she /still/ equaled him.  He was a vampire!  The Slayers of Slayers!  He should be able to crush humans into the ground, and yet this girl was keeping up with him, and she did it with a relaxed smile on her face!

“Come on, Spike!  You can do better than that, can’t you?” Dawn teased with a grin.

Spike growled an inhuman growl, and gathered his chi in his hands.  “TANEKAKOSA!” he roared, and fired the powerful beam of energy up at Dawn.

Dawn quickly flew back and up, to some four an a half meters height, and smiling fired several energy balls down.  In the moment, she was completely forgetting about her mom-or-FE-troubles.  The Tanekakosa wave, wove between her energy balls, and she shot downward to avoid it.  Spike in the mean time had let the Tanekakosa wave move on without him pouring more energy into it, and instead destroyed Dawn’s energy balls so they could turn and attack his energy beam.  Dawn quickly twisted upside down and then zipped to her right, making the beam fly just over her, and then turn to follow her.  Spike grinned and fired several energy balls at the fleeing Dawn.

Dawn moved, took in the situation, and then zipped down, lending on the ground.  There she waited, much to Spike’s delight.  A few moments later Spike’s attacks arrived, and just then Dawn burst straight up into the air.  The energy attacks crashed into the ground where she just was and exploded mightily.  The damage to the floor would be repaired automatically by some robots later.  Dawn flew up, turning down, and stretched her arms out.  She generated a shield, which absorbed the shockwave from the explosion.  Dawn grimaced at the effort, and grinned at the same time.

She then rapidly flew down again, and raced forward, throwing a powerful punch that Spike deflected.  The vampire growled in frustration as he was once again on the defensive. He parried several punches and then threw two himself.  The first Dawn parried, then shrank down and made a leg swipe.  As Spike was imbalance, he flew into the air instead of falling over and giving Dawn the advantage.  Too bad for him, that was exactly what Dawn was expecting him to do.  She was already in the air, spinning around her axis, and making several spinning kicks that connected to Spike’s stomach.

“Ugh, ugh, ah!” he exclaimed with pain, and then charged an exploding slicing disc in his left hand and tossed it down at Dawn.  Dawn twisted aside to avoid the cutting side of the disc, but once the bulbous middle of the disc was right next to her, it exploded.  Quite a bit of the energy from the explosion managed to pierce Dawn’s shield and protective aura, sending her spinning backwards, until she crashed into the gym’s shield.

“Aargh!” she exclaimed, holding her wounded torso.  She heard Spike grin, and he was charging another Tanekakosa.  He fired it directly at her.  “Tanekakosa!” she exclaimed quickly, firing her own energy wave, despite the pain and several bloody gashes on her arms and upper torso.  The two beams crashed together, and a pushing war measurement of strength started.  Dawn grimaced, thinking that maybe mocking Spike might not have been such a good idea.

Then Dawn quickly dismissed that option.  She had several aces up her sleeve, not to mention gotten a lot stronger.  This day, was the day she was going to defeat the bleach-blonde vampire.  “YAAH!” she screamed, and forced a lot more of her energy into the beam, forcing it back.  Soon after however, she felt Spike push back, and the bulk of the energy come back down.  There was enough energy now, to make the air flow rapidly, and Dawn’s hair whirled about as the two energy beams clashed.  With another roar she did it!  Her beam suddenly shot forward, pushing Spike’s back . . .

. . . to her shock, she suddenly got an extreme amount of pain in her stomach.  “AAAH!” she screamed out, as Spike rammed the Buffy-created spinning ball attack in her stomach. Vamped out, he grinned viciously as Dawn screamed in pain, her chi twisted aside, and the ball now digging in her flesh - Spike had simple dipped down and flown forward, leaving his Tanekakosa to be engulfed by Dawn’s.

It hurt!  God, it hurt!  Dawn still yelled out at the pain of her flesh starting to shred, and already blood leaking down her stomach where the violently twisting ball of multiple energy arcs was cutting.  Thinking quickly Dawn grabbed down with both hands, taking Spike’s wrist with the ball of energy and pushed back against it with all her might.  The pain lessened as the ball could no longer be pushed forward.  With a defiant shout and effort, Dawn managed to push the ball back a bit more, to completely free it from her flesh.  Spike growled in frustration, pushing hard to get the ball back into Dawn’s flesh; he couldn’t understand why he could keep the ball back.  She was just human, he was pushing forward, he was a vampire, she should be lying on the floor begging for mercy by now.

With another yell of defiance, Dawn pulled another burst of strength from her body, and then suddenly changed the direction she was pushing in: instead of just forward, she added an upward push.  Unprepared to keep himself on the floor with his chi, Spike was lifted off the ground, and completely lost the ability to keep pushing.  Dawn twist his lower arm with a roar, in a wrong direction from his upper arm, which she subsequently grabbed with her right hand, shifting its position.  Spike yelled out at the pain of the pressure on his arm, and let his energy ball disappear.  Dawn then smoothly pushed Spike away, and fired an energy ball directly at it. Unprepared, the ball connected, exploded, and sent the already tumbling Spike spinning off to Dawn’s right.

Dawn shot forward, to Spike’s height, and saw the vampire smash to the ground and tumble onward to crash against the shield at the short end of the training area.  He was dazed . . . /This/ was the time!  “Alright, Dawn, you managed it before,” she told herself with a grin, and brought both her hands before her.  One above the other, she charged energy between them, pinkish energy.  She quickly charged more and more, so the pinkish energy quickly became a violent white.  Energy gathered from beyond the visible plain, and Dawn let it gather in a clockwise fashion.  The ball started spinning with the gathering energy; faster and faster, and then with Dawn’s own pushing the ball went even faster.  The energy couldn’t fully be contained with speed of the spinning, and it flowed out, still twisting around the core.  The pink energy grew vertically and horizontally rapidly, quickly enveloping Dawn, who simply let herself be pulled up, but stayed stationary in the middle with her energy.  “This is it.  Watch this, Spikey!  My own creation - multispectral attack: Sweet Twister of Doom!”  At last she herself turn one full circle, and with a push sent the pink tornado, with a white, violent core onward at Spike.

The vampire shook his head, and struggled up, and then saw the still growing, massive, rapidly twisting tornado rush at him.  “Oh, shit!” he managed, before raising his hands before him, and charging all his energy into a shield.  “AAAH!” he roared out as the incredibly powerful energy funnel consumed him, the energy pulling at his own, overpowering it partially. He was yanked forward into the tornado, even as most of his clothes were shredded.  He screamed with more pain as the energy cut at his body, slicing open gashes everywhere, the blood splashing out and being twisted around the funnel as well.

Dawn watching with satisfaction, watching Spike rapidly twisting around in the twister, being rapidly pulled in toward the white violent middle.  Dawn actually had to brace herself; the twister pulling at her, violently sounding as it sucked at her; her hair and clothes fluttering toward it.  Then Spike screamed again as he was engulfed by the white middle, and then the whole tornado exploded.  A violent, powerful, and loud explosion rocked the training mat they were fighting on, the shields all around it shimmering with effort.  Spike was nowhere to be seen, as he was randomly tossed away, and slammed around the shields like a pinball.

*****

Vi looked suspiciously at her opponent: Li-Huei the boyfriend of Dawn Summers, sister to the Slayer Buffy Summers; and one awesome fighter - more powerful than a standard Slayer. Which begged the question just how powerful Li-Huei was.  Partly that question was already answered; as she was holding her stomach where he had landed a powerful punch.  A watcher and Xander was watching the fight with interest.  Vi’s short reddish-brown hair was stuck to her skull from her sweat.  Li-Huei seemed equally sweaty, and was breathing slightly heavily.

To Vi’s surprise, she had found she had the most aptitude for chi use than all the potentials.  Especially the ones with a big mouth and arrogance, while she had been the quiet one and let them do all the talking for her, had found their defeat at her hands.  Li-Huei though, she had found, was of an entirely different caliber.

She charged with a battle cry and threw several blinding punches and kicks at him, all of which, sadly for her, he blocked or deflected with some effort.  Then Li-Huei pushed her right hand down and her left hand to her left, before landing two powerful punches on her chest, and followed up with a short uppercut.  Vi groaned as she staggered back, and Li-Huei jumped and flew forward and before adding a spinning kick to send her flying back.  She groaned with pain, and then, while both were still in the air, Li-Huei floating, she heard him call, “Yaah!” She just knew what was coming next.  She gathered her energy and braced herself.  A moment later a small energy bomb impacted on her, and exploded.  “Aargh!” she exclaimed before smashing to the floor and tumbling onward just a bit more.

“Winner, Li-Huei,” Xander said and walked onto the training mat.

The female watcher in a smart, short skirt and jacket walked over to the downed Vi, who was groaningly struggling to get back up.  “Are you quite all right, Miss Chadwick?” Vi’s watcher asked concerned.

“I’ll live,” Vi groaned as sat up dazedly.

“Well, Li-Huei, that pretty much settles it; you’re good enough for some standard patrols to handle some vamps,” Xander said with a grin.  Li-Huei looked up at Xander and shrugged. Xander turned to Vi, and said, “The same goes for you, Vi.”

“I am?” she asked somewhat surprised and modest.  “I just got my butt kicked,” she clarified.

“True, but you’re still stronger and faster than a Slayer,” Xander said with a small smile, while Vi looked up from her sitting position with wide disbelieving eyes.

“Indeed?” the watcher asked.

Xander nodded, and said, “Faith, Buffy when they first got her, she’d defeat.  This is a good development, I can satisfy the psychiatrist.”

“So I get to patrol some?” Li-Huei asked a little incredulous.

Xander nodded, and added, “Unless of course you prefer your girlfriend to go insane from something called ‘battle fatigue’.”

The sound and light intensity in the gym increased.  Everyone looked around to see a giant pink tornado form at Dawn’s position, which the girl then flung away.  A moment later Spike was engulfed, and there was a huge explosion that had everyone covering there eyes.

“Dawn!” Li-Huei said concerned, and sped off the training his training mat, and to Dawn’s.  A little later he could see her, and was relieved when she was standing and smiling broadly.

The others all surrounded the team, while a few meters onward lay Spike, a pool of blood surrounding him and growing bigger.  “What was that?” Tara asked, one of those closest to dawn, who was surrounded by the throng of people.

“That, was the Sweet Twister of Doom,” Dawn said, the grin hugely on her face.

“‘Sweet’ Twister of Doom?” Willow asked incredulously.

Dawn nodded with the grin on her face, and said, “Because it’s pink.”  Everyone looked at her, and she giggled.  “I’ve been working on it in secret for a while now.  First time I used it on an opponent; works perfectly.”

“How did you come up with that!?” Li-Huei asked in admiration, walking over and putting his arm around his girlfriend’s waist.

“Oh, I took Buffy’s little twisting ball, mixed it with a multispectral energy wave, and then expanded it a bit,” Dawn said with a grin, liking the admiring attention.

Buffy huffed, crossed her arms across her chest, and said, “Let me guess, when we actually try it, simply taking my twisting ball, mixing it with an energy wave, and expanding it we’ll find it’s not very simple at all, fail miserably, and making you look even better.”

“Dang it, Buffy, /you/ know me that well, but everyone else here doesn’t, why did you have to go ruin the fun?” Dawn complained to her sister, who just glared at her little sister in annoyance.

“Brilliant, Dawn, absolutely brilliant,” Xander told her with a grin, and Dawn smiled happily, very much liking the praise from her erstwhile crush.

“Hey,” Dawn said with a shrug, “You have the Tanekakosa, Faith her shield buster, my sister here with the shredding ball, I couldn’t stay behind, I just /had/ to have my own signature attack.”  Buffy groaned.

Somebody else did as well.  “Bloody hell!” Spike said, almost hysterically, as well as angry as hell, “I’m bleeding to death here. When are you people gonna help me up!?”

Xander walked over, as did Dawn.  They looked down and Dawn winced.  Spike was a mess: gashes, shreds, tears, more than half naked, and several chunks of flesh were removed from his body.  Where his torn flesh could be seen it looked disgusting, and the pool of blood still grew.  A Potential having come closer, grabbed her mouth and ran off to get to the bathroom and threw up there.  Xander smirked, and said, “You’re a vampire, Spike.  You’re already dead.”

“Bloody fucking bastard!” Spike called out, angry and hysterically.  Dawn had surpassed him; that much was obvious, she had torn him apart all but literally.  A mere human!  A dumb girl!

“Relax, you’ll heal,” Dawn said with a grin, we just have to get you home so you can drink your animal blood.  Spike growled angrily, horrified at what he had become - a laughing stock, a vamp who couldn’t kill a normal human being.

“Well, Dawn, this settles it; you’re officially quite a bit stronger than Spike now,” Xander said with a smile on his face.

“Really?  Cool!” Dawn said, while Spike shut his eyes at the horror that had transpired.

*****

Willow was lying on the couch in Tara’s arms.  She had her head on Tara’s shoulder and smiled at the intimacy.  “I love you, Tara,” she murmured, and snuggled tighter into Tara’s embrace.  Tara smiled and give Willow a gentle kiss on the forehead.  The movie on the wide screen plasma tv was Terminator 2.  Around them were the other Scoobies, enjoying the movie along with them.  “I really hate the T1000, evil evil thing mimicking the ones you love,” Willow said, watching the movie.

“That’s why he’s such a cool bad guy,” Xander said, munching popcorn.  He looked at an engrossed Buffy on the chair next to him, and then at a seemingly pensive Dawn.  “They don’t make ‘em like this anymore.”

“I heard they’re making a third,” Tara said, gently stroking Willow.

“I’ll reserve judgment till I see it,” Xander said, popping some more of the popcorn into his mouth.

A comfortable silence reigned then, as they finished watching the last part of the movie. When it was over, Buffy said, “It just stays good.”

Xander nodded, and went over to remove the DVD.  As he was busy, Willow suddenly asked, “Say, Xan, were the Saiyans far enough advanced to create intelligent and self-aware computers and robots?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Xander said putting the DVD in its box, and while putting it on the table he said, “it’s just that we didn’t care much about intelligent machines, especially not war machines.”

“Yeah, if you can blow up planets, and you love to fight, you’re not going to build pathetic robots to do it for you,” Willow explained to herself.

Buffy nodded, and said, “No need to worry about them taking over either, you guys would have obliterated an evil machine army in two seconds flat; of course, that probably means they never could build an army in the first place . . .”

“Which reminds of the psychiatrist’s little diagnosis of some our problems,” Tara muttered with some trepidation.  “Combat stress reaction, from the army . . . of course, some forced relaxation is never a bad thing.  You think a couple of the potentials can handle patrol?”

“Sure,” Xander said with a shrug, sitting back down.  “Of course, the first few times some of us will have to chaperone them and really give them practical combat experience; Li-Huei is good and powerful enough to do the chaperoning though.”  Dawn looked up at the mention of her boyfriend, but once the information was processed returned to her thinking.

“Which is weird though,” Buffy said with thoughtful tone.  They looked at her, and she explained, “Before, when I didn’t really want to fight, when I tried to keep it at a minimum I was depressed, now that I don’t, the more I fight, the better I feel in my skin.”

“Well, to you fighting anything out there is more like a game now, you can take your time and toy with them, or just blow them away without a thought.  It is practically relaxation to you - and us now,” Tara pointed out.

“Yeah, but I haven’t just fought easy things, remember our trip to the past?  Not to mention some pretty intense training with Xander here,” Buffy returned the observation, and Tara nodded.

“Yeah, it’s just nice to know I wasn’t pure evil,” Willow said without thinking about it. Tara frowned.

“If you had been, we wouldn’t have given you the opportunity to kill us,” Buffy said with a smile.

Willow grinned self-consciously, and nodded to Buffy and Xander, “I’m just glad I’ve got my Tara back.”

“What do you mean by that?” Tara asked, somewhat coldly which made everyone, even Dawn and especially Willow startle.

“That I’ve got you back because I love you,” Willow answered, not understanding Tara’s cold tone.

“That’s not what is sounded like, it sounded like you meant, everything is just peachy, just because I’m your girlfriend,” Tara said heated, with three pairs of eyes looking somewhat surprised at the couple.

Willow was nervous, looking into the anger-filled eyes of her girlfriend, a cool anger simmering just beneath the surface.  Uncertain, she almost whimpered, “All’s well that ends well, right?”

Tara grunted angrily and disentangled herself.  “Nothing is well about what you did, Willow, ending well or not,” Tara all but hissed, while Buffy, Xander, and Willow looked at the two stupefied.

“I know that, it’s just an expression, we got through it, didn’t we?” Willow asked desperately.

“Hell, no, /we/ didn’t,” Tara said, her tone lowering as her anger grew, and she pushed even further away from Willow; now only sitting with the edge of her ass on the couch, turned back toward Willow.  “/You/ went on a killing spree, forcing us to stop you, even by killing you.  /I/ kicked your ass.  /You/ went into therapy. /You/ showed improvement, and /I/ decided to take you back on some severe requirements from /you/?”

“That’s what I mean,” Willow said desperately, and murmured something under her breath.

“What did you say?” Tara demanded, standing up now, looking down at Willow, with Buffy, Xander, and Dawn still watching, and having no real idea what to do, or if they even should do anything.  They just sat there.  “What did you say, Willow!?” Tara demanded again, and Willow shrank back, looking up with meek eyes.  “It sounded like ‘Stupid Faith’.  Is *that* what you said?”  Willow weakly nodded.  “*What has /she/ got to do with anything!?*”  Willow stayed silent, not knowing what to say.  “*WELL!?*” Tara demanded uncharacteristically powerful.

Willow whimpered and then said weakly, “Faith was a killer, a murderer, and yet you admired her for her strength and determination.  Part of me was afraid I was going to lose you to her, which is part of the reasons why I went so overboard on the power trip.  So it’s partly Faith’s fault, if she hadn’t been around, I wouldn’t have gone overboard.  My therapist even helped me see that.”

Silence reigned in the Summers living room.  It ticked for another second.  “*Bullshit!*” Tara said resolutely.  Buffy, Xander, and Dawn looked shocked at her.  No matter how more secure Tara had gotten over the last year and a half, never had she said that.  It seemed completely antithetical to the blonde witch, yet it come out with total conviction.  Tara was angry, that much was very obvious now; very angry.  Willow knew it too, more so even than the others, there was fright on her face to what was coming.  “Faith has no blame for what you did, Willow.  Nothing.  /You/ did what you did, not her.  And if your therapist told you she did, he needs a different career.  Somehow I doubt that, I’ve met him, talked with him . . .”  Tara looked deeply disappointed all of a sudden, and uncertain, like the Tara of old, but then she got a grip before anyone could gather their wits.  “You think like that, it’s only a matter of time before you start abusing magic again.”

“No, I won’t, I’m not like that anymore,” Willow managed to whimper.

“We’re done,” Tara stated.  It was a calm, almost dead statement, while Tara looked soullessly at Willow.  “I can’t be with you this way, I can’t.”  Tara then turned around, walked towards the stairs and climbed them.

Four shocked stairs followed her way up the stairs.  With the first few steps, tears burst from Willow’s eyes.  Halfway, Buffy muttered, “Oh, my god.”

Three quarters and Willow sprang from the couch and desperately went after her soon to be ex-girlfriend.  “Please, Tara, please, I’ll do anything to get you to stay.  Tell me, and I’ll do it,” Willow begged as her heart broke in a thousand pieces; again.

“No, way,” Dawn muttered shocked, sitting their with wide eyes.  “Did that really just happen?”

“I think so,” Xander answered lowly, the sounds of suitcases being packed came from upstairs, including whimpers from Willow, and dismissals from Tara.

The three of them got up, and walked slowly to the stairs, looking up at the second floor. “You think they’ll ever get back together?” Dawn asked gently, still shocked at the sudden event.

“I don’t know, Dawn,” Buffy said, a little afraid at the event.  The last year she had gotten used to the two witches living in her house with them.  She didn’t want to see her leave.

A little while later Tara came back down the stairs with her two suitcases floating behind her.  A crying Willow stayed at the top of the stairs.  When Tara reached the bottom stairs she paused and looked at her three friends.  “Guys, I-I’m sorry.  I-I d-didn’t see this coming at all,” Tara told them, looking them pained in the eyes.

“Neither did we,” Xander said gently.

Tara nodded.  She hugged him tightly, then proceeded to Buffy, and finally Dawn, who she gave an extra strong and long hug.  “Take care, Dawn, you’ve grown so much,” Tara said with a wistful smile as they were hugging.

“You too,” Dawn said with a tear in her eyes, her troubles with her mother forgotten in the more immediate turmoil.

She backed away from the teen, and then said, “I’ll be at the Sunnydale Grand Hotel, until I get something more permanent.”

“Alright,” Xander said gently, “take care, Tara.”  Tara nodded and then left out the front door, her suitcases in tow.

Buffy burst up the stairs and took Willow in a tight hug.  Willow pressed her head against Buffy’s shoulder and stammered while crying, “Th-this isn’t fair.  Wh-wh-what ha-ha-happend, Buffy?  Wh-wh-what did I do?”

Willow shook with sobs, and Buffy tightened her hug, rubbing Willow’s back firmly but gently.  “I don’t know, Willow, but you’re going to be alright.”

“My heart,” Willow shook in Buffy’s arms, crying.  Buffy felt the tears soak into her shirt, and didn’t care, “I ca-ca-can’t f-f-feel it, Buffy.  I f-f-feel so empty.”

Dawn and Xander looked at each other, still reeling from the suddenness.  Dawn then turned and walked back into the living room to the kitchen.  Xander went up the stairs, and joined his two best friends in the hug, both of them crying now.

Outside Tara walked to the pavement resolutely and turned right.  After several steps, she slowed down.  Then she paused, and looked down.  “Oh, goddess,” she muttered, feeling a lump form in her throat.  She swallowed it away heavily, and then a sob wracked her body. Her left hand moved to her mouth, and she squinted her eyes, squeezing out tears.  She sobbed again, and cried softly, forcing herself to struggle onward, grief tearing through her being.

*****

Buffy walked into the principal’s office; several meters directly above the Hellmouth.  It was immaculately kept, and like most of the school bathed in a cool blue and beige color scheme. Of course, the cracks in the wall removed quite a bit of the immaculately-kept image.  Buffy had noticed the workers on the outside removing the damage: first they had repaired the foundation from the “earthquake’s” damage, now the outside, and lastly they were make the cosmetic corrections on the inside.  Buffy zeroed in on the desk.  Robin Wood, bald, African-American, school principal sat in his chair.  He typed at his computer a few final times, before tapping the screen away into a screen saver.  He looked at Buffy, smiled and got up.  He extended his hand out over his desk, and greeted, “Welcome, Miss Summers.”

Buffy’s eyebrows rose above her eyes, taking his hand.  She had been preoccupied with the suddenness of her friends’ breakup two days earlier, but Wood’s official welcome snapped her out of it.  “Of course, Mr. Wood, I take it this isn’t a ‘social call’,” Buffy said, emphasizing ‘social call’ enough to show him what she really meant.

“No, this is about your sister,” Wood answered her with a tone that told he didn’t like doing this, and sat down, letting his grey suit jacket fall open.  “Please sit,” he told her, indicating the chair in front of his desk.

Buffy took the offered seat, and as she sat down, she asked, “What about Dawn?”

“Ever since - you know - a few weeks ago,” Robin started, making a quick point to one of the cracks to emphasize what he meant.  “Dawn’s been erratic.  Teachers say that she seems absent, as if she’s constantly thinking about something else, and her grades have started to slip a little,” Wood explained professionally, having folded his hands in front of him.  He looked every bit the concerned principal, taking in Buffy’s eyes with his.

“Really?” Buffy asked a little high, obviously concerned.  Her eyebrows frowned with worry and thought, as she thought of Dawn lately and tried to figure out what could be bothering her.

“It’s nothing really worrying yet,” Wood quickly said, softening his earlier sentences of doom.  He cocked his head gently, and explained, “Sometimes teenagers go through these phases, often they solve themselves.  Having started this school though, we have adopted the policy to alert parents and caretakers, so they can keep their eyes peeled in case it’s something bigger and they can intervene in some way.”

Buffy frowned as she thought about it, and then said, “The First appeared to Dawn as our passed-away mother.”  Wood’s eyebrows rose, and nodded in understanding.  Buffy continued, “She was wondering if it wasn’t the First and really her mother.  I think it hit her hard, real hard.”

“That would do it, indeed,” Wood said, and went over to his computer.  He removed the screen saver and with a few quick buttons pulled Dawn’s grades of the past few years up.

While watching Wood do that, Buffy went on, “She’ll come to terms with it, we explained to her it was the First.  It’ll just take some time, she’s probably reliving some the grief she felt then.”  Buffy paused, swallowing, some her own grief of her mother resurfacing as she talked about.  Strange, how even so long after, it could still hit her so at moments.

“Back then her grades moved in a downward trend as well, but they didn’t sink below a certain level,” Wood observed seriously.  “It seems rather similar as now, in that case I wouldn’t worry about it.  She’ll bounce back once she’s passed it, and college placing is more about SATs then grade average; a short dip isn’t going to make much difference, especially if she has such a legitimate reason.”

“I’ll have a little talk with her later on.  But thank you for this, it’s nice, and useful,” Buffy said, getting up steadily, not overly concerned anymore.

Wood got up himself, and reached over the desk to once again shake Buffy’s hand, “Not a problem, Miss Summers, it’s what you pay us for after all.”

“Thanks anyway, goodbye Principal Wood,” Buffy told him sincerely.  She finished shaking his hand and they parted.

“Goodbye, Miss Summers,” Wood returned formally.  Buffy gave him a nod, and then turned around to leave his office once more.

*****

The television volume in Hank Summers’ living room turned down, till it was all but inaudible. The large, brown couch in front of it held two people - one male, the other female.  With the volume down there was barely any sound.  Two plates, both empty apart from some scraps and used utensils, stood on the table in between the couch and the television.  Hank looked over to his youngest daughter, who was deep in thought.

“It’s a miracle you even finished your dinner,” Hank said from his place left on the couch.  There was no answer as he regarded his daughter.  Dawn was sitting on the couch with her feet on it along the long side, her legs bent so her father could sit as well.  Dawn was obviously thinking.  After a few moments of silence, waiting with raised eyebrows, Hank prompted, “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you, or do I get to guess . . . Dawn.”

“Huh?” Dawn exclaimed, jerking up to look at her father as a result of her name called.

Hank looked at her for a few moments, and then he said, “Your sister’s boyfriend has taken her out on a dinner date; but you don’t fear Xander’s or Willow’s cooking.  I know you’re not that upset about Tara leaving your house, because you’d be having dinner with her, not me.  So why did you want to talk to me?”

Dawn frowned for a moment, and then looked at her Father deeply, not quite knowing what to think of that.  “Can’t I just be here wanting to spend time with my father?” she asked with large eyes.

Hank smiled at her lovingly, then broke in a grin, his eyes sparkling - so very much like Buffy could, Dawn noticed.  “Sure,” Hank told her, still grinning, “but then you wouldn’t be sitting there like a statue.  Actually, I think a statue would be impressed.”

Dawn blinked and then looked at herself.  She moved to prove her father wrong.  “I’m not-” Dawn’s protest smothered as her knees audibly snapped from being in such an awkward and still possession for all the time.  “Oh,” Dawn muttered, and finished turning around to sit normally.  She looked over at her dad, and he gestured.  Dawn scooted over and he wrapped his right arm around her shoulder in a semi-hug.

“So, what’s bothering you?” Hank asked, pulling Dawn close against him.

Dawn smiled, liking her fatherly hug, not remembering that many.  “You know about the big evil, well, during its big move, just before Xander destroyed him . . . mom, appeared to me,” Dawn finished, the last part with some difficulty.  She looked up at her dad’s face.

“Oh,” Hank said, his face filled with love and concern, tightening the hug even more. “That’s what it could do, right?”

“Yeah,” Dawn answered, and then bit her tongue for a little while.  “I don’t think it was it,” she forced herself to say.

“Huh?” Hank asked intelligently.

“Thinks don’t add up, if it was the First Evil,” Dawn said softly, laying her head back down on her father’s shoulder.  “That demon attacking.  The way she felt and looked, a bit different than normal, almost glowing unearthly.  It just makes no sense.”

“So what do you think?” Hank asked her with a solemn tone, looking down at his daughter’s beautiful face.

“I think it was mom,” Dawn said and looked up in her dad’s confused and wondering face.  “You know, as some kind of spirit, or angel . . . or something.”

“Really?” Hank asked breathily, not really knowing what to think.  If it were true . . . he wouldn’t mind seeing Joyce again, apologizing, and not the times he had no control over himself.

“Yeah,” Dawn said, and sat up straight, gathering her thoughts.  “I’ve been checking out angelic appearances, or at least claims of them, you know.  Unearthly feeling, unearthly light, either to reassure, or warn of something dangerous coming.  They’re most often passed on loved ones, mostly direct family; everything seems to fit.”

“Everything?” Hank prompted, knowing his daughter’s, as well as their mother, seeing a bit of the way Joyce would keep something.

Dawn looked down, then turned back to her father, and said, “Well, okay, not quite. Mom appeared right in front of a bunch of strangers, while angels usually appear privately, or to only a very select close few.”  Dawn paused, while her father thought it over.  “And well, there’s the demon trying to keep me away from her; that never happens . . . unless you go back to biblical times, but I figure, this is the Hellmouth and the First Evil was trying to destroy the universe at the same time, you know?”

“Yes.  So, you seem to have been pretty thorough, what is it that you want to ask me?” Hank asked her, a gentle tone to his gentle face.

“I’ve asked Buffy and Willow and a few others, and they all say it was just the First trying to mess with me, mixing things up, adding new things than just the visage of the one you love to trick me even more than normal.  Do you think it’s possible?” Dawn asked her dad pleadingly, searching in his eyes.

“Possible?” her father answered, with a mix of emotions, an aborted chuckle wrapped in his expression and tone.  “Some monks made me forget my love for my daughter and her mother, making me stay away from the funeral of the mother of my daughters, my one daughter is a mystically enhanced super warrior demon hunter, who’s friends with a witch and an interdimensional alien, I live in a town that I know for a fact is built on top of a gateway straight to hell, and my other daughter was born through the use of magic as the vessel for an inter-dimensional key.  Is it possible?  Hell yes, and you know it, but I think you want to know whether it’s probable, don’t you?”

Dawn smiled self-consciously.  She looked down, making some of her hair tumble in front of her face.  She nodded, and said, “Yeah.”  Looking back up, she brushed her hair back.

“I don’t know if I’m the one to ask, Dawn, I’m not into all this stuff,” Hank said with a deep sigh.  Dawn looked at her.  “What did she say?”

Dawn looked down again, and then replied, “‘She won’t choose you.’”

Hank blinked, and thought it over for a moment.  “Did she mean your sister?” he asked uncertain, looking at Dawn.

“I think so,” Dawn said with a frown and looked up.  “That’s one of the things that confuse me, and that I’m trying to figure out.”

“If she did mean Buffy, then I have to defer to her and her friend’s wisdom in these matters; because that’s just plain nuts,” Hank said with some conviction, gaining Dawn’s attention again.  “Your sister is devoted to you and your safety.  The only way she could ever not ‘choose you’, or not ‘choose what you want’, is if it’s for your own good, protection or safety.  She loves you, she place you, and your welfare above me, her own father, there’s no way mom would have to warn you against Buffy not choosing you.”

Dawn smiled brightly, even as inside she felt a disappointment.  Part of her wanted so desperately that what she saw was really her mom, it hurt whenever someone denied it.  On the other hand, the thought that her sister would never leave her or anything like that, was a good one.  But then of course, there was last year, and just before that when she willingly jumped to her death, not to mention how thin she looked lately.  “Yeah, you’re right,” Dawn said with a smile that was only half-sincere.  She snuggled against her father, wanting to feel the safety it made her feel against what was out there, the big question mark still in her head.

*****

“So now we have ghost in the house, did I tell you that?” Buffy said happily, but softly so the rest of the restaurant wouldn’t overhear and consider her nuts.  The place that Chris had picked out for the night was perfect.  Low lightning and candles to set part of the mood, some plants here and there to finish it.  Buffy felt like she was in a grand, super chic, place that cost fortunes just to get on the waiting list.  The food was delicious.

“A little,” Chris answered, smiling at his girlfriend.

“Oh, he helps out,” Buffy started, and started another long monologue.  Chris looked down at the table.  The white table cloth stood out from the darker foods and food bowls. Their plates were brown to add more contrast.  The salad, he had noticed much earlier, as he payed just enough attention to Buffy’s happy talking, was all but finished.  Most of Buffy’s meat was untouched though.  The french fries, in a bowl so they could put more on their plate if they felt like it, was still quite full.  He had had some, and Buffy hadn’t even had a handful.

His meat was almost gone of course, and he cut off another piece to bring to his mouth. He looked at Buffy.  Was she really that thin? . . . God, she was thin!  Her chin was almost a point, her skin tightly drawn and going back directly back to curve into a narrow neck.  The dress she was wearing was sleeveless, and showed off her cleavage; which he was pretty sure was smaller than last time he saw her cleavage.  Her arms . . . he could see muscle.  She was a mystical, super strong, warrior, and of course he had always seen muscle - lots of muscle, not body building muscle, she needed speed greatly, but with smooth skin and the perfect layer of smooth fat around it, to make it all look delectable.  It didn’t look delectable now, there was no fat, there was only muscle.  In fact; was he imagining it, or could he see individual tendons? He was imagining it, he was sure, they were two big for individual once, but probably a few lumped together was what he made out.

“Have I told you, you look great yet, Chris?” Buffy asked him directly, pulling Chris from his reverie.

“A few times,” he said a little self-consciously.

“Well, you do,” Buffy said with a seductive smile, “I can see muscles.  I told you it wasn’t so hard losing a little weight.”  Chris smiled, feeling good at the praise.  “You’re still overweight, but I’d almost say this is enough . . . you’re still just as sexy as when we first . . . wanna redo that later tonight?”

Chris felt heat rising through his body.  Oh, yes he did!  Buffy may not be the perfect goddess anymore that he once met, but she could still get him going, alright.  “Definitely,” he told her softly.

Buffy smiled happily, and she ate another leaf of lettuce.  After swallowing it, which Chris noticed was again lettuce, Buffy started telling a new tale, “I just talked with Dawn’s principal. Apparently she’s been less there lately - mentally, I mean.  I think . . .”

Buffy’s talking - and again no eating, took Chris from his nice mental place about later that night.  Again he noticed how thin Buffy was, perhaps not quite totally unhealthy - who was he kidding?  Oh, perhaps he wasn’t, perhaps Buffy was just all muscle now, and everything was still perfectly functional, but he wasn’t kidding himself.  If she hadn’t hit true unhealthy levels already, she soon would be . . . like two days from now or something - with how little she ate.  He looked down at his plate, saw some remaining fries and a final piece of meat.  It filled him with despair and insecurity, knowing that only piece seemed to have been what Buffy had eaten from hers.  Almost like a zombie he pricked his fork in his last piece of meat, then brought it to his mouth.  As he chewed, he reflected on what was happening.

What can I do, he thought.  He had no idea; he couldn’t force-feed Buffy, even if he was physically strong enough to do so.  He didn’t want to go to her friends.  He didn’t know why, exactly, but he didn’t.  They didn’t seem to do anything about it; either not noticing - having been busy that could be - not seeing anything wrong, not knowing how to make Buffy see what was the problem, or hoping still, Buffy would realize on her own; not having reached the critical point yet according to them.  Personally, he thought she had crossed the critical point a long time ago.  Of course, he had known her for not even half a year, they knew her longer. Buffy wasn’t eating.  What wasn’t she eating?  This couldn’t be that stupid legend where she was depicted as a lazy, sloth, big, fat pig now could it?  Ugh, how could he do anything?  What was there to do?  This was him, he was talking about; not another super hero, not a psychologist, not even a moderately competent normal doctor.  He was a guy working in commercials.  How could he presume to start curing a goddess?

Buffy finished her thoughts about Dawn, and Chris felt the need to do something.  “Uh . . . are you going to eat that?” Chris asked her, pointing at her barely eaten stake.

Buffy looked at her stake for a moment, and then looked up at him, asking, “No, do you want it?”

Chris looked up into her eyes a little startled.  “Uh, no, it’s just that . . .” he started nervously, looking into those beautiful, grey-green eyes, “. . . uh, well, when you’re in a restaurant you eat what you payed your hard-earned money for . . . you know . . . uh . . . and if you can’t eat it all, you leave the last little bit . . . not eat the last little bit and leave the rest.”

Buffy looked down at her stake with a puzzled expression for a bit, then looked back up at her boyfriend, and said, “I’m not hungry.”

“Oh . . . okay then,” Chris said, for a few moments looking totally lost.  Then he looked back down to his plate and started on finishing his fries.  *Okay then?  Okay then!?  You’re such a loser!* he told himself.

“Are you okay, Chris?” Buffy asked with a frown, looking at his uncharacteristic behavior.  He wasn’t usually this quiet, and turned inward.  He made her laugh, talked freely to her.

Chris looked up suddenly at her question.  “Fin, fine,” Chris said, and continued eating. Buffy remained silent for a moment, then shrugged, deciding that Chris would tell if something serious was bothering him, and giving him the time to handle the minor problem on his own, if she hadn’t been mistaken after all.

*****

Buffy knocked on Dawn’s door, to which her sister called her in.  Buffy opened the door and looked inside.  Dawn was sitting on her bed in her pyjamas, reading a schoolbook, and looking at her sister.  The room was rather messy, but then this was a teenager.  Of course that didn’t mean Dawn couldn’t clean up.  Buffy frowned a bit as she walked in, wearing her own pyjamas, then told Dawn conversationally, “You should clean up your room one of these days.”

Dawn blinked and looked around her room.  “Uh, yeah, I guess,” Dawn answered.

Buffy came over and sat down on the bed.  “So,” Buffy started, looking at Dawn.  The teen looked at her blankly.  “Your principal asked me over this afternoon, did you know that?”

“No - am I in trouble?” Dawn questioned, obviously surprised, and a little shocked.

“Not yet,” Buffy said with a smile.  Dawn’s eyes widened at that, apprehensive and not knowing what to make it of it.  “They noticed you’ve been a bit absentminded lately, and your grades have gone a little down.”

“Uh, well,” Dawn tried, feeling herself flush; having hoped her sister hadn’t figured out this other concern that had been nagging at her and that she had pushed aside in favor of the bigger concern according to her.

“Don’t worry, they’re not, I’m not, we’re just a little concerned, but I see you’re studying,” Buffy said to her sister quickly with a placating tone, “Just something we think will blow over, if you can focus.”  Dawn didn’t quite know what to say, and even less when her sister promptly enveloped he in a tight hug; tight enough that before Dawn’s training she’d have squeaked and reminded Buffy of her Slayerness.  “You’re still struggling with Mom’s appearance, aren’t you?” Buffy said in a loving tone.  It was a rhetorical question, and so Buffy didn’t wait for an answer, continuing, “Take your time, just not an insane amount of time. And you know you can always come to me for anything, right?  Help, advice, a shoulder to cry on, a person to talk to, big sister hugs, whatever.  I love you, Dawn.”

“Uh, yeah, I love you too,” Dawn said quickly, meaning it, but saying it more to get rid of her sister, the same reason she returned the hug.  She was a big girl now, and this was her older sister not her mother; she didn’t hug her sister anymore.  In fact, she didn’t think she ever really hugged Buffy and vice versa, making this rather uncomfortable.

Buffy wasn’t deaf, and after an affectionate squeeze, broke the hug.  “I heard you, crazy big sister should leave you alone, right?” Buffy asked with a smile.

Dawn looked at her sister with a little surprise, and then said, “Just not hug for no reason at all, and better not try that in public because I’ll shoot an energy ball up your ass.”

“Right, right, no embarrassing little Dawnie,” Buffy said wit a big grin, getting up from the bed.  Dawn glared at her sister.  “Which means never call her that in public,” Buffy took in the message, but not taking her smirk off of her face.

“Never call her that /ever/,” Dawn corrected with a frown.

“We’ll see,” Buffy teased before stepping out of Dawn’s room, then adding to be sure, “Just remember what I said.”  Then the door closed.

Dawn sighed, and looked at the schoolbook.  The words seem to blur together.  She sighed and closed the damn thing.  With her mom on her mind, the schoolbook refused to assimilate.  She sighed.  It wasn’t just her mom and the cryptic response, the troubles were growing bigger by the moment.  If her mom /had/ /been/ an angel as she suspected from the look and feel, then that would also mean that ‘god’ existed, didn’t it?  And with everyone here planning to destroy every god in existence . . . or would this ‘god’ be something else than the evil things that had been messing with their lives?  And if so, did their desire to destroy all the gods including it, probably, mean they were going to burn in hell?  Was that why Buffy wouldn’t choose her?  Because Buffy would want to destroy god, and she wouldn’t?  Bah, what was she thinking.  That was just ludicrous, why would she suddenly think she’d become a church goer?  Her whole family had never gone to church, gods had proven to be evil, and if Buffy just now didn’t show she was there for her, Dawn didn’t know . . . then again, with Buffy and everyone else adamant it was just the First, and just shushing her opinions and concerns with that, and telling her to process it and work through her funk, hadn’t Buffy and the others basically already not chosen her. *You’re being dumb, Dawn,* she told herself, feeling all the insecurity, and frustrations well up in her, threatening to burst into a cry.  What if she’d been given a sacred task to prevent Buffy from dying or something?  Because Buffy would choose wrong?  She couldn’t bare Buffy’s death.  Ack, why couldn’t it be anything more concrete?  Stupid gods!  They were right after all, they were all evil if they couldn’t get even a simple message across without sending dumb cryptic messengers . . .

Of course, Faith said Raiden was a good god, but then he came in person, didn’t send angels around, wasn’t cryptic, took his time to get a message across, and Faith wasn’t sinking to her knees every morning to pray to him.  Dawn frowned, at least she didn’t think Faith did that, she would have seen some signs in her or Angel’s team if that were so, right?  Dawn sighed in frustration.  Why did the hell did this had to have happened to her?  She whimpered, and suddenly felt a wetness on her cheeks.  She checked and then felt a sob well up.  God! Now she was crying too!

Dawn suddenly blinked, rubbed away her tears.  This whole idea about god reminded her. That dumb teacher in school was constantly yammering about god, wasn’t she?  And she had said Dawn could come to her whenever she needed it, for whatever problem she had.  Right, perhaps talking to her would shed some light on the subject.

*****

The bell rang, signaling the end of the hour and for Dawn the last hour of the day.  “Well, class,” Delores said as the bell finished, “don’t forget your homework for the next the time.” She pointed at the homework written on the board.  The students went to write down their assignments in their agendas, and then got up an left.  All but Dawn, who stayed behind, giving her friends a nod she’d come later.  She got up and walked toward the teacher who was gathering her papers and things.

Dawn waited till the last of the students had left the class room, and then prompted, “Miss Reventar?”

Delores, standing on the slightly raised platform on which the teacher’s desk stood, looked to her side.  “A moment, Dawn,” Delores said, and finished stacking a few papers and put them in her bag, which was quite close to being a suitcase.  She turned to Dawn then, and asked, “I’m done.  Go ahead.”

“You told me I could come to you about anything, remember?” Dawn asked uncertain, wishing she knew what this was going to be like.

“Of course, Dawn, I recall quite an investigation about a friend of yours because of it,” Delores answered her with bright smile.  The Angel sensed that this could be a momentous event.

Dawn nodded, and placed one hand on the teachers’ desk for support.  Then she went on, “Well, it’s like this . . . have you ever heard of the First Evil?”

“As in the snake in paradise that tempted Adam and Eve?” Delores asked with an interested smile.

Dawn smirked despite her worries, and said, “No, as in Prometheus, the Greek god who gave fire to Humanity, kick started their evolution, the one who valued us, and thought we needed protection and servants, and so he recreated a lot of demon races with genetic experiments trying to breed out their evil, but another god messed with his experiments, kept their evil and were set free.  For that he was banished to the Earth, phased out of existence, anchored to a seal into a pitch black cave.  Sensory depravation, and his hatred for what was done to him, and who did it to him, made him go insane, and being the originator of the new wave of demons - the First Evil.”

“That . . .” Delores paused, rather shaken with the story.  Dawn told it with a casualness of known fact, no faith, almost as good, no better, than angels spoke of god with absolute knowledge, “. . . is an interesting story.  No, I hadn’t heard of that First Evil before, except of course the Greek myth of Prometheus.”

Dawn nodded, “A few weeks ago it tried to bring forth Armageddon by opening the Hellmouth, and letting out everything that was banished to hell.  We stopped it . . . Xander stopped it, he’s good like that.  You know the Hellmouth is right underneath the school?”

Delores was speechless.  Tried to destroy the world?  And no warriors of light were there?  Then she banished the thought.  Of course they were; it just wasn’t warrior angels, they were mortals: God had a plan, always had.  “I know of the Hellmouth, yes, and I know what’s there.”

Dawn nodded at that, relieved she knew.  Then she went on an another tangent,“You see, the problem is, the FE had this ability to appear as anyone and anything that ever died, and while it was messing with my friends’ minds to keep them away from his ultimate plan, my mom appeared to me.”  Dawn choked up, again surprised at how fresh the wound was relaying it.

“Oh, my,” Delores said, and hugged the girl close.  “That being is truly cruel.”

“Yeah, just one problem,” Dawn said, and Delores backed away from Dawn, looking at her questioningly.  “I’m not so sure it was the First Evil.”  Dawn looked at Delores, and Delores looked back, waiting.  “I think she was some kind of angel,” Dawn finally decided to clarify.

Delores took in a sharp breath, suddenly dizzy.  If she was an Angel, why would God have sent the girl’s mother down if Delores was already here?  Could be, it wasn’t like she was getting anywhere of course; and she once again had to marvel at His magnificence.  “Let’s sit down for this,” Delores said, feeling a big long talk coming on, and she herself would rather be sitting.

“You think I’m crazy,” Dawn half accused, half questioned.

“Oh, no, not at all,” Delores said, gesturing to one of the student desks.  Dawn tentatively went over and sat in the chair, while Delores took the chair from the desk in front of it.  She then turned the chair around and sat down on opposite side of Dawn.  “What makes you think she was an angel?” Delores asked gently.

Dawn breathed out, looking down for a moment to gather her thoughts.  Delores thought Dawn looked cute with her brow furrowed in concentration.  Then Dawn looked up, and explained, “Okay, because she was different from the way the others described the First Evil and how he felt.  It just came as the person; as close to him or her, as it could.  Mom wasn’t. For one thing, she was glowing-”  Dawn paused for a moment, and Delores smiled inwardly. Dawn shook her head, “No, not glowing, more like . . . radiating with an inner light, that I could see, yet I couldn’t see and wasn’t there at all.”  Dawn’s eyebrows shot up, and looked pitifully, saying, “I can’t really put it into words, it was just really weird.  She felt different too, like she was . . . ‘more’, some how, you know?”

“Possibly,” Delores said non-committedly, “Go on, what else?”

“All she really said was ‘She won’t choose you, Dawn’, while with the others it usually tried to elaborately screw with their heads, even changing shape.  Oh, and then there was the demon trying to keep me away from her; she was like, trapped under its might or something,” Dawn finished, and looked at Delores.  “So, you think she was an angel, or at least could be an angel?”

Delores smiled, and said, “I get the impression you already made up your mind, what do you really want from me?”

“I want you to tell me it can’t possibly be an Angel,” Dawn burst out desperately, much to Delores surprise.  “You’re the god expert, not like my friends and family who just assume it was the First and that’s it.  And at the same time, I want you so badly to tell me it was an angel, because I myself can’t be sure.”

Delores looked totally confused now, and said, “Now that you will have to explain to me, because I don’t get it.”

“I want it to be my mom, I want my mom to still be alive somehow, somewhere,” Dawn explained close to tears, “And at the same time I don’t want to be an angel.  If she’s an angel then god probably exists, and if god exists . . . my friends want to kill them all.  Will they go to hell for that?”

“They want to destroy the false gods, the djinns, as they’re called in the Book,” Delores corrected gently.

“I don’t think Xander will care, he’ll try,” Dawn muttered.

“He’d know the difference if he met the True God,” Delores said with conviction, “and I doubt God will send them to hell.  He’s a just God, all the good your friends and family have done outweigh one case of mistaken identity and overzealousness.”

“You think so?” Dawn asked hopefully.

Delores nodded, and then decided.  “Dawn, for your mother, I wasn’t there; and having heard of this False God’s ability, I can’t be certain it was your mother or just it,” Delores explained relaxedly, and Dawn looked down in defeat at that.  “What I can tell you, for a certain fact, is that angels exist.  And I do know this.  I /know/ this.  The same goes for God.”

Dawn looked up surprised and confused.  Frowning, she asked, “How would you know that?”

“Well, because I /am/ one,” Delores finished with a serene smile, while starting to glow with a soft, gently, yet powerful, unearthly, whitish-golden glow.

Dawn’s eyes went wide with shock at her glowing teacher.  It was the same feel all of a sudden!  Delores felt and looked the same as her mom; except that her mom had felt more subdued, trapped, chained, no doubt the demon’s doing, and Delores was full of glory.  The glow made her feel good, at peace for a moment.   Then her eyes widened further in panic, and struggled rapidly out of her chair, which clanged to the ground in Dawn’s desperation.  Then Dawn ran toward the door, swung it open, and was out the classroom, leaving a befuddled Delores.

Delores made her glow fade, and muttered helplessly, “Okay, that could have gone better.”

To Be Continued . . .

And so the plot thickens; what will happen to Dawn now that she knows about Delores true nature?  But first we go over to LA, where a doppelganger’s plans are coming to fruition, and gets help in the form of a mighty demon . . . or not so mighty?  Find out next time on Buffy Z - Episode 87: Signs of the Times - Rain of Fire.