Willow comes across some potentially explosive and deeply heretical theories about Slayer Power and the Council of Watchers. Also, Amy's mom comes to Anya seeking vengeance against her ex-husband.

Willow got home, went up to her bedroom, and looked at the two reports. One was about 80 pages, entitled "On the Origins of Slayers and their Power." The other, about 120 pages, was titled "A Survey of the History and Evolution of the Various Watchers' Councils." Willow decided to first read the one of Slayers. It was shorter, and it might have information which directly concerned Buffy. She opened it up and started reading.

Before she could finish the first page, Buffy popped her head into the room. "How'd it go, Willow? Is this guy trouble?"

Willow was nervous. She felt odd reading about Slayers while talking to Buffy, like she was hiding something from her best friend, which she was. "Oh, you mean Patrick? No real trouble there. He's just going after the evil from another angel, angle. (Freudian slip. Something to do with all those vampires with souls.) He gave me some scientific stuff to read - about demons. It looks interesting."

"If you don't sweat him, that's good enough for me. I have enough to worry about already."

The paper was very technical, but definitely a page-turner. In the 1960s, the Council became curious about the physiology of their Slayers. They had been collecting small blood samples from Slayers for decades to test for red and white Blood cell count, platelet count, and other basic information which related to their aerobic capacity and ability to heal. More in-depth tests revealed that Slayers had highly abnormal hormone levels, which presumably enhanced their physical abilities. The Watchers wanted to know if slight differences in hormone levels correlated to specific strengths and vulnerabilites. The Council had long known that certain tactics worked well with some Slayers but not with others. The new information could help customize training methods.

As time went on and the technology improved, younger Watchers began to assume that these abnormal hormone levels were the result of genetic mutations. Since Slayers were born to non-Slayer parents, the mutation most likely had to be inherited from both parents, each of whom carried a hypothetical "Slayer gene." If Slayers really were created by random mating, there was no reason there couldn't couldn't be more that one at any given time. These Watchers put more stock in science and less in mysticism than their predecessors, and would be only too happy with prove that "Into each generation a Slayer is born" was nothing more than superstitious claptrap.

By the 1980's, the technology existed for them to attempt to test their hypothesis. They had access to blood samples from dozens of 20th century Slayers. Recognizing how threatening their idea was, they kept the true goal of their work secret, telling Council elders they were merely following continuing the hormone level research. They began by testing the mitochondrial DNA of the Slayers, which could be used to estimate how long ago their common maternal ancestor lived. From the amount of genetic drift in the mDNA, they calculated that this common maternal ancestor lived 4000 generations ago — about 100,000 years in the past. That matched with the legend about the First Slayer being "created" by shamans 1000 centuries ago.

Next they analyzed the nuclear DNA, trying to find strands which were common to each Slayer. This took a lot of time, but eventually they did find a section of a little over 1000 base pairs which that Slayer had two copies of - one from each parent, as they had predicted. Once they felt they had "proven" the genetic roots of Slayer power, this small faction of scientifically-oriented young Watchers wanted to discover how common this "Slayer Gene" (actually, a collection of many genes) was in the general population.

Unfortunately, that required gaining access to samples from thousands of individuals. Fortunately, they were able to periodically obtain copies of genetic data from friends of friends who worked on the Human Genome Project. By 1993, enough genetic codes had been analyzed for the scientists to reach statistically accurate conclusions. They concluded the Slayer Genes were present in approximately 1 in 4000 women, and 1 in 6000 men.

According to all available records, Slayers did not exhibit their strength and extraordinary physical abilities before they were told of their calling by a Watcher. Usually, Slayer were not called until they had turned fifteen, although some had been called at fourteen or even thirteen. Slayers tended to get more powerful after they turned sixteen. After that, their strength remained constant until they died. The magics the Council used probably detected girls with unusual pheremonal signals given out by girls with the Slayer Genes. These signals were emitted in the late pubescent stage of development, between the ages of 15 and 18. The abnormal endocrine hormone levels which give Slayers their massive strength are triggered by extreme physical stress, such as the stress caused by fighting vampires and fearing for one's life. Slayer Power only manifested itself after the Watcher has told the Slayer of her calling and forced her to fight vampires. Slayers could keep their Power well into their twenties. But no woman over seventeen had ever been called. The Watchers inferred that if a girl with Slayer Genes was not called before the age of 18, her hormone levels returned normal and her Slayer Power could not be triggered. At that point, she stopped emitting a special signal would not detected as a Slayer by the Council's magics.

From their genetic analysis, they concluded that currently there were 12 girls between the ages of 15 and 17 who could be called as Slayers, and that Slayer Power was not a zero-sum game. The death of one girl did not empower another. If this were true, it would shatter much of what the Council took for granted. Even worse, it would destroy the mystical basis for the Council's power and the traditional reason for its very existence. Watchers believed they were the spiritual descendants of the shamans who created the First Slayer. The Council had power over the Slayers because they had created them. If the "noble lie" that Slayer Power was created by men was debunked, the Council would lose all credibility. Also, the existence of multiple Slayers would induce any single Slayer to shirk her duty. Slayers fight because, if they do not, there is no one else to hold back the demons. When a girl goes from being The Slayer to merely A Slayer, she loses her sense of responsibility.

However, there could be an obvious upside. Twelve Slayers could do far more to combat evil than just one. And they would no longer have to be worked to death. Twelve Slayers, each fighting three months a year for four years, would mean there would be three Slayers in the field at any one time. And it would give each Slayer a good chance of surviving. Of course, they could all be used together in the case of a apocalyptic emergency. Furthermore, Slayers wouldn't be the only beneficiaries. More of the people who trained to be Watchers could actually become Watchers. A glut of trained Watchers had created a tremendous bottleneck. There were large numbers of "journeyman" Watchers who never got assigned to a Slayer. Thus, the renegade Watchers believed they had a shot at convincing their brethren to put this radical new theory to the test.

Within a matter of months, the renegades and their sympathizers had been expelled from the Council. A substantial number of young Watchers sided with the Old Guard, even though they had been at odds with their elders in the past. The divide between generations turned out to be less severe than the divide between science and mysticism. Most Watchers were trained in the humanities, in history and folklore, literature and languages. When they worked in the lab, it was to make magical potions, not to conduct serious scientific experiments. A purely scientific explanation of Slayers was a fundamental threat to their view of the world. Even worse, it was something they did not trust or completely understand.

It was after midnight. Everyone else was asleep. Willow couldn't sleep. Too many questions filled her head. She decided to read the other paper. It was longer, but much less technical, and hence a quicker read. Its title "On the Origins of Councils," was provocative, since it implied there were more than one. It was a natural corollary to the previous paper. If there could be multiple Slayers, why couldn't there be multiple Councils?

The paper began with speculation about how "Councils" arose in pre-historic times. A vampire attacked a teenage girl. She fought back and actually overpowered the vampire. Someone witnessed this and was astounded. They told the village elder. He realized this girl had the power to protect the community. So he (and probably others) trained her to fight the vampires. They may have been assisted by shamans who used their magical powers to assist and protect the Slayer. Thus, a primitive Council was formed, and the man in charge of training the Slayer became a proto-Watcher. Such informal Councils would sprout up wherever there was a girl who demonstrated that she possessed Slayer strength.

When civilization developed, formal Councils were created as a subset of the religious/intellectual elite. These Councils would be permanent organizations. They would develop magics which could be used to detect and find Slayers. Thus, a system would develop whereby one Slayer is called, and when she dies her replacement is called. Given the great rarity of girls possessing Slayer Power, the Council would need a large population to draw from. Thus Councils migrated with their expertise to the most powerful nation or empire in a region. The official Council of Watchers traced its origins back to the city of Ur in Sumeria 5000 years ago. After more than thirty centuries in Sumer and Akkad, it moved to Thebes (Egypt) in 1700 BC, to Nineveh (Assyria) in 1200 BC, to Babylon in 700 BC, to Ecbatana (Persia) in 535 BC, to Alexandria in 330 BC, and to Athens in 33 BC. The practical Romans didn't bother themselves with things as ridiculous as vampires, and Athens was a leading intellectual center in the Roman world. The Watchers were Greek, but the Council was officially under Roman control and could recruit Slayers and fight vampires anywhere in the Roman Empire.

After a Gothic raid into the Balkans reached the walls of Athens in AD 262, the Council moved to the more secure environs of Antioch. It moved again to the new capital of Constantinople in 325. In that year, at the Council of Nicea, many Christian bishops wanted to disband the Council because it was run by pagan priests. However, a compromised was reached and the Council was placed under the symbolic control of the Patriarch of Constantinople. Watchers who failed to convert to the new religion were executed. Most, however, accepted the new faith.

This is because the loyalty of Watchers was to their mission, not to their government or religion. If they were not so flexible, they would have perished whenever the city they were in was destroyed, or the empire they were a part of crumbled. This is why, in 660, when Byzantine power was on the wane and Islam was on the rise, the Council defected from Constantinople, converted to Islam, and set themselves up in Damascus. In 758, they migrated to Baghdad, in 1187 to Cairo, in 1410 to Ankara, and in 1453 to Istanbul. In 1571 they defected to Madrid, in 1713 to Paris, and in 1789 to London. Americans, like Romans, were too practical to care about vampires, and so the Council stayed put even after Britain lost her Empire.

Yet this wasn't the only Council. There were at least three others. One was in Mexico, and perished during the Spanish Conquest. One was in India. It was consolidated into the London Council in 1792. Another was in China. That one was consolidated into the London Council in 1842, after the First Opium War.

For the first time in the history of civilized man, there was only one Council. And for the first time in history, this Council had access to every corner of the globe. It could confront evil wherever it rose, and recruit Slayers wherever they rose. This led to unprecedented changes in Watcher-Slayer relations, to the extreme detriment of the Slayer.

The random genetic origin of Slayers meant there was a limited supply of them. When a Council operated over a limited region, it quickly realized that if a Slayer died a few months after she was called it might be several years before the next Slayer rose. Thus Watchers learned to protect their Slayers, to not allow them to fight alone against hopeless odds, to give them support personnel and auxiliary fighters. Slayers could live for five and sometimes even ten years. There were legendary accounts of "retired Slayers" who lost their power in their late-20s and returned to living a normal life. Such legends matched the predictions of endocrinologists that the hormonal shifts which give a pubescent girl Slayer Power would revert to normal as she grew older.

When the supply of Slayers was scarce, their power increased. The Council had no choice but to compromise and negotiate with them. But when the supply of Slayers became abundant, they became the Council's pawns. The London Council soon realized that it could lose a Slayer after six months and immediately find another one, and lose that Slayer after six months and find yet another replacement. Now that they had access to the world's entire population, it really did appear that whenever one Slayer died another immediately rose to take her place.

There was no incentive to play it safe. In fact, there was an incentive to take risks. If the Slayer was thrown into an incredibly dangerous situation and survived, large numbers of evil demons would be dead — a great triumph for humanity. If she died, it was no big loss. There would always be a new Slayer to pick up where she left off. The inherently lonely nature of a Slayer's life was now codified into dogma. The idea that Slayers were destined to fight alone and die alone — which appealed to 19th-century Romantic notions of heroism — became gospel. This served to increase the power of the Watchers. If a Slayer had friends and support fighters, she could be loyal to them, rather than to the Council. A solitary Slayer was completely and utterly dependant upon her Watcher and the Council.

The Council was well aware of the fact that women eighteen or older were not detected and called as Slayers. From this observation, they concluded that Slayers called before turning 18 became less powerful after turning 18. Thus the "tradition" of making Slayers fight a vampire without her powers on her 18th birthday. The "ancient tradition" was invented in 1821 as a way of killing off Slayers the Council deemed a little too long-in-the-tooth. Thereafter, Slayers tended to have a maximum life span of 2 to 3 years. The certainty of youthful death, of dying in battle and leaving behind a beautiful corpse, was fetishized and glorified by men raised on Shelley, Keats and Byron. And since they only looked for one new Slayer at a time, the Council never realized one Slayer did not have to die for another to rise.

To those men raised to believe in and serve the Watcher's Council, these manifest cruelties were viewed as ugly but unavoidable. As best they knew, a new Slayer only appeared when the old Slayer died. Because Slayers were dealing with phenomena ordinary people cannot begin to comprehend, it was natural that they would exist outside of society and work alone. The fact that a Slayer did not stand a good chance of living to celebrate her 20th birthday was unfair, but Watchers "knew" that was the way it had always been. The Slayer had a duty, a higher calling. They sacrificed their lives to protect humanity. And they could not protect humanity without the help of the noble, selfless Watcher's Council.

The scientific faction within the Council appeared to attack the roots of this institution. They declared the Council was created by man and could be destroyed by man. It had no mystical authority, no connection to the shamans who gave the First Slayer her powers, since of course these shaman did not give her those powers. The London Council had no inherent legitimacy. The triumph of science could lead to anarchy, to the dissolution of the lone institution which protected humanity from the beasts of Hell. This terrifying specter rallied the great majority of Watchers against the scientific faction, dooming them to defeat and excommunication. When fighting paranormal evil, it is much more comforting to believe in a world based on magic instead of a world based on science.

It was half past four in the morning. Willow couldn't sleep. Not after reading all this. But what if it was all bunk? Some elaborate conspiracy theory? She had to talk to someone. And she knew who.

"Hello?," an obviously groggy Patrick Gugan said as he answered the phone.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. If this is a bad time," Willow stammered.

"No, no, it's fine. I'm glad you called. I take it you read the stuff. What did you think?"

"Where did you get these? Who wrote them?"

"Who do you think? The dissidents, the apostates, the ones who were banished. They have a loose network, fighting demons here and there. I've been helping them for the past few years. They're the ones I raised the vampires for."

"So they're like an Anti-Council?"

"Counter-Council. Whatever."

"Do they try to find the extra Slayers they think are out there?"

"No. They can't. They don't know the spells used to find the Slayer. So they're basically blind when it comes to that. Course they hope one day they'll be able to find someone who does. But that's not my thing. The mystical isn't my area of expertise."

The next morning, Catherine Madison resumed her interrupted life. Her beauty salon was still there. Rosemary, her business partner, was running the place. Catherine entered. "It's been a while, Roe."

Rosemary turned. It was like seeing a ghost. Six years after vanishing without a trace, Catherine was back. And she hadn't aged a day. "Cathy? Is that you, Cathy? Where have you been?"

"Indisposed. Is business good? As good as when I was last here?"

"Yes. Uh, yeah. It's improved a bit, over time, actually." There was something terrifying about someone who had vanished years ago appearing out of the blue and acting so casual about it.

"Good to hear that about our business."

"A, ah, our business?," Rosemary stammered. "You-you-you've, b-b-been gone. For a long time. So I figured - "

"I was dead? Of course you would. Then again, no death certificate. No proof. So you couldn't legally become sole proprietor, no could you, Roe? I bet if I checked last year's tax form my name would be right next to yours, right?"

"Well, see, that was a formality. A technica - "

"A technicality. Because technically, I control fifty percent of the equity, soo half the earnings are mine. But you've kept them all, haven't you?"

"Wha-wha-what was I supposed to do?"

"You should have done what you are going to do right now. Give me half."

"Half? But I earned all that money! That was my work, my sweat - "

"And my name on the title to the business. Not the revenues, just the profits. I'm going to go over the books now, calculate what that comes to. I'm guessing you still have that joint bank account with me?"

"Y-y-yes. the account's still there."

"Perfect. Then I'll know where to go to get my share. Look Roe. I'm sorry to burst in and act like such a bitch. But this is business. I understand if you don't want me around anymore. I wouldn't if I were you. So I'll sell my share. And then we'll both move on. One more thing, Roe. Thanks for minding the store while I was gone. I always knew I could count on you."

What was surprising was not what Catherine did, but what she didn't do. She didn't use her magic to "persuade" Rosemary to give her everything. She could have. After all, when they founded the business Catherine could only put up one-quarter of the startup capital. Even though Rosemary put up the other three-quarters, she "chose" to give Catherine a 50% stake in the business. But at this moment Catherine did not need to resort to the black arts. Surprise and a calculating, menacing demeanor did the trick. She checked the records, figured she was owed around $75,000, and left.

Then she went to the Magic Shop. Might as well browse for supplies, see what struck her fancy. What struck her fancy was the owner. Actually, it was the amulet the owner was wearing. Catherine knew she had seen it before. Anya noticed the first-time customer (first time as far as Anya was concerned). "Can I help you?," Anya asked. "Are you looking for something in particular?"

"Actually, I am. By the way, sorry I didn't introduce myself. I'm Cathy, short for Catherine." She shook hands with Anya.

"I'm Anya."

"Short for, Anyaka?," Catherine asked.

This unnerved Anya. She glanced around the store. They were alone. "What is it you want?," she whispered.

"I want what you can give me, Anyaka."

Anya walked to the back of the store. Catherine followed. "You mean vengeance?"

"You can give me that, can't you?"

"Well, of course." Anya now realized this was a golden opportunity. Finally, a women she could charge for vengeance. "So give me the run down."

Catherine launched into her sob story. High school sweethearts. Husband abandons her. Single mother. The shame of it all in a gossipy small town. Anya had heard variations of this tale hundreds of times. "So do I qualify?," Catherine asked.

"Definitely. Absolutely."

"Fabulous. Then I wish - "

"Whoa-whoa-whoa, hold on one second. You're not just gonna wish willy-nilly. Let's talk this out. Throw some ideas off me. What did you have in mind?"

"I want his hair to fall out."

"That's it!? That's all!? After everything he did to you, baldness is the best you can come up with?"

"I want all his hair to fall out, everywhere on his body. Forever. Completely hairless, head-to-toe, for the rest of his life."

Anya smiled. She began to understand. "Oh. Neat. Subtle, but nice."

"Thing is, he's exceedingly hairy — legs, chest, back. Always viewed it as a sign of his virility, his manhood. But if he loses it, if he can never grow a single hair for the rest of his entire life - "

"He'll fell like a woman," Anya replied. "That's very good. You'll make him hate himself — the ultimate revenge. Well, except for evisceration. Very well done. Have you ever considered a career in vengeance?"

"Oh please, you're just saying that," Catherine bashfully responded.

"No, I'm serious. You seem to understand vengeance as an art form. And you have a marvelous eye for detail. I mean, boils on the penis — anyone can think of that. But I sense that you're a true original. Tell you what — I'll talk to my boss, put in a good word, see if he's interested in you."

"Well, it goes without saying that I'd be honored to become one of the immortals. But first things first. I wish - "

"No, no, no! Not yet. There's the little matter of payment."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm a working woman. I have bills to pay. You think I do this for free?"

"Since when did you charge?"

"Since I woke up and got a clue. You're willing to pay to hurt your ex, aren't you?"

"I suppose I am. I guess that's fair. Fee for services rendered. How much then?"

Anya had been waiting a long time for a chance to charge for vengeance. And the waiting had made her greedy. "Fifty thousand dollars."

Catherine gasped. "Fifty grand? That's highway robbery."

"Take it or leave it, Cathy. After what he's done to you, to your daughter, isn't it worth it? Remember, vengeance is the gift that keeps on giving."

It was worth it. So Catherine pulled out her checkbook. "Who do I make it out to?"

"Do I look stupid to you?," Anya retorted. "Fifty thousand, cash. You want your revenge, you'll find a way to get the money."

Thing was, it wasn't hard for Catherine to get the money. After all, there were $75,000 in a bank account with her name on it. She had even gotten Rosemary to sign an invoice authorizing her to transfer that money into her personal account. She did this. Then she withdrew the cash. Nearly broke the bank, but it was her right. Sure, the tellers looked at her suspiciously. But everything she had done was legal. She left carrying a leather bag containing 25 stacks of one hundred $20 bills.

Anya was surprised to see Catherine back only a few hours after she left. She tossed the bag on the counter. "Count it."

Anya opened the bag. There it was. All that money. She had never seen so much money. And it was hers, all hers. She could take it home, and roll around naked in it (by herself for now, next week with Sterling) if she wanted to. That bag of cash was the most awe-inspiring sight she had ever seen. Thousands of crisp bills. She picked up a few of the stacks. Checked to make sure they were $20 bills all the way through. They were. It looked like it was all there. She had never been so proud to be a Vengeance Demon.

"Looks like everything's in order," Anya told Catherine. "Let's do this thing."

Catherine took a deep breath. "I wish my ex-husband would lose all of his hair for all time."

Anya put on her demon face. "Done!" But something felt wrong. The wish was being sent back. It couldn't be executed. It was flawed. It was old. Anya took off her demon face.

"That's stale vengeance! You tried to sell me stale vengeance! You tried to sell me rancid, stale vengeance!"

"Is there a problem?," Catherine asked with a look of surprise.

"When did you husband leave you?"

"Ten years ago."

"Ten years! My god! The statute of limitations ran out a long time ago on you, honey!"

"Are you saying you won't grant my wish?"

"Won't? Try can't!"

Catherine was furious. Now she would have her vengeance — on Anya. "Goddess Hecate - "

Anya put her hand and used her demon powers to send Catherine flying across the room. "Don't Goddess Hecate me. Do you have any idea who you're messing with?"

"Gaea, Cybele, Artemis, her my call, strike down - "

Anya put her right hand out. Catherine's magical bolt bounced off Anya's palm and struck Catherine, knocking her down. "You're way out of your league, lady. Don't even try it," Anya told her. "And it's your own fault for waiting so long."

"I was waiting for you! I summoned you a decade ago. You never came. And you call yourself the defender of scorned women." Catherine turned and walked towards the door.

"You forgot something," Anya called out. Anya threw the bag of money. Catherine caught it and left. Catherine was so mad she had forgotten all about it. But Anya couldn't keep it. It wouldn't be right. Services had not been rendered. Anya was mighty offended by Catherine's insinuation that she was an absentee Vengeance Demon. There had to be a reason why she couldn't help Catherine a decade ago. She wouldn't have missed a summoning.

NEXT: Despite her best intentions, Buffy starts to miss Spike. Xander wonders if he's doomed to scuttle every romantic relationship he engages in. And Amy and her mother go after Buffy.