We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are

-Lord Alfred Tennyson


When Buffy left the recording studio, she wasn't unduly surprised to find that no one was there. Given the speed at which they had all vanished when she had walked in, they obviously wouldn't have been in a hurry to come back. Not while she was there.

Except there was someone there. Oh, not someone who worked there. But Wells was waiting patiently for her, as though there was no doubt whatsoever in his mind that she would stop and talk to him.

On that front, he was entirely correct. Buffy walked over and stood in front of him, waiting calmly for him to speak.

Which, apparently, wasn't the response that Wells was looking for, going by his expression and the way that he snapped "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Buffy didn't reply. She just stood there, staring at him placidly.

"I told you to find the demon that robbed my bank. I told you to make an example of him. I didn't tell you to tell the whole damn town that there are demons out there. I didn't tell you to make your own private army!"

"They aren't my army." Buffy replied evenly. "They are going to keep this town safe."

"Safe? Safe?" Wells seemed to be having difficulty coming up with a coherent response to that. "You declared war on multiple species on television and then slaughtered a squadron of Bringers - Bringers - and you think that the town is going to be safe?"

"Yes." Buffy said simply. "It will be. I will make it safe. Because that is my job." Buffy paused.

"Your job is definitely not to incite… well, just about everyone. If you keep this up, the whole town is going to blow up. Probably literally, the way you're going."

This wasn't Buffy's home. If it had been, then there would have been half-a-dozen weapons within easy reach, no matter which room she was in. And that was a conservative estimate. But here, all she had was a stake. She always carried a stake. You could never tell when a vampire might pop up.

So she took her stake, and purely on impulse, reversed it and held it out for Wells to take. Seemingly on instinct, Wells took it.

And now he was armed, and she wasn't. Admittedly, she was the Slayer. Buffy could definitely take the stake away from him as easily as she had given it. But, as she stood there, she put her hands behind her back. The message was clear. "Then stop me. You have a weapon. Come on. I won't stop you."

It wasn't much of a risk, just as it hadn't been when she had spread her arms and invited the demon gang to come and attack her. Then, because they had known that whoever went first was guaranteed to die. And now, because Buffy had been on television, speaking out against demons and evil and corruption and how it should be fought at all costs. If she was then found dead… well, the people who worked here were bound to have seen something. Even if they hadn't, what she had started was too big to stop now. She would be a martyr to her cause, and Wells couldn't have that.

"You know very well that your death won't get me anywhere." Wells said coldly. "You might be protected by… by your mob. But your friends? I can crush them before they even know what's going on. Sure, you can turn loose your rabble, but you can rest assured that nothing I do will ever be traced back to me."

And then, for the first time in a while, Buffy's voice took control. Before, it had been her that had ordered the extermination of the Bringers, it had been her that had spoken on television praising the man who had shot them in front of his family. All of it had been her, and no one else.

But it was her voice that said "You assume that you're going to leave here alive." It was her voice that said that, and it did so without even the slightest input from her brain.

Wells smiled faintly. "I must admit, I do rather plan on doing so. I am human, after all. I believe that makes me somewhat beyond your remit. Slayer."

It had been her voice that had threatened him.

But it was definitely her, and her alone, that said "I stopped Glory. I stopped the Master and the Mayor. I have kept this town safe from anyone and everyone that might want to destroy it. And then there's you. You, and others like you, have done just as much damage to this town as they ever did. There are more deaths on your head than on any of theirs. Do you really think that I won't stop you, just because you are human?"

If Wells was perturbed by the threat, he didn't give even the slightest indication of it. In fact, he just laughed. "Oh, you have grown up, haven't you? You've let go of your naiveté and decided to join the real world." Then he sobered. "Of course, if you think that I'm relying upon your tendency to leave humans alone to stay safe, then you are sadly mistaken. If you kill me now, your friends are just as dead. Your sister is just as dead. Do I really seem like the kind of man who doesn't have contingency plans?"

And then Buffy spoke, and she genuinely didn't know whether it was her voice that spoke of its own volition, or if it was her with full support of her thinking mind. It sounded like the kind of thing that her voice said when it was left to its own devices. The kind of thing that could make an entire gang turn and run with just a handful of well-chosen words. But, then, Wells had just threatened her friends and family. And Buffy wasn't exactly averse to roughing people up a little bit if it meant that she found out something she wanted to know. She'd done it to Willy often enough. She'd done it to Spike.

This? This wasn't that much of a stretch. It could have been her that said it. She wasn't sure.

"Perhaps I should rephrase myself. When I said that you assume that you're going to leave here alive, I didn't mean that I was going to cut you down where you stand. No. Because you are the kind of man who has contingency plans. I know that, throughout the time that Mayor Wilkins was running this town, he must have had a bunch of people like you under him. I'm betting that you've already got another one lined up to take your place. So, in the long run, it wouldn't matter if I killed you." Buffy leaned forward. On instinct, Wells leaned back. "But there are so many things that I can do to you that won't kill you. I am the Slayer, Mr Wells. I have seen what the things in the dark can do. Would you like to see? Because I'm guessing that you break and call off your dogs long before I even get close to killing you. And then… then, maybe I'll kill you. Maybe. If I'm feeling generous. So tell me, Mr Wells. What was it you said you were going to do with my friends and family again?"

Wells swallowed audibly. "Nothing."

Buffy smiled beatifically, and her smile just happened to coincide with every bulb in the room shattering and plunging them both into darkness.

"Good."


When Buffy went home, she found that everyone was there, waiting for her. Everyone but her sister, that was, which didn't really surprise her. Everyone, all of her friends were sitting there waiting for her. Even though there was no banner, she could read the word 'Intervention' clearly enough. Obviously Wells wasn't the only one who disapproved about what she was doing.

So she was taken completely by surprise when Willow said "Thaumogenesis."

Buffy looked at her blankly. "What?"

"Often, when a big spell is cast, there is a… side effect. New magic is born. Or a new creature. And when I say a big spell, I mean a big spell like your resurrection." Willow paused. "And, um, we think that whatever got made by the thaumogenesis kind of… bonded itself to you. And that's why you've been acting so…"

"Creepy." Anya supplied helpfully.

"S-so we came up with an exorcism." Tara added.

Buffy didn't even have time to speak before Willow and Tara started chanting, and Anya and Xander stood and watched resolutely.

They stood and watched as the lights flared and went out, and Buffy crumpled, folding in on herself as the energies that the witches were manipulating flew around the room.

And then the spell was done, and Buffy was lying on the floor in a foetal position. She was shaking. She seemed to be crying.