"I'm not crazy!" Willow mumbles to herself as she runs haphazardly down the hall, "This is Sunnydale! This kinda stuff happens all the… Whoa—!"

She collides with someone, who drops her papers. Willow desperately helps her pick it all up.

"Sorry! Sorry," Willow says, "I shouldn't have been running in the halls. Silly me."

"Are you okay?" The woman turns to face her, and that excited applause erupts yet again. Willow looks around in panic.

"Dandy!" Willow says, "Yankee doodle… Uh, sorry for crashing into you. Wait, another new teacher? I guess it's no surprise this place has a high job turnover…"

"Guidance counselor," says the woman, "I'm Mrs. Maximoff."

"Oh," says Willow, "Sorry. Again."

"That's okay," Mrs. Maximoff says, but there is still a curious—suspicious?—look in her eye, "I'm sure I'll see you around."


Willow spends the rest of the day going to class like normal, an impending apocalypse never enough to keep her from her studies, but she still flinches at every corny joke and the canned laughter that always seems to follow it.

She eagerly awaits the final bell that would set her free to investigate the strange phenomenon, and instead of meeting up with Buffy and the others, obviously also affected by whatever is happening, Willow wanders nonchalantly into the computer lab, intent on questioning 'Vision'.

"Ah, Willow!" he greets her, "That was it, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Willow says, "And you're Mr. Vision."

"Just Vision is fine," he says.

"Do you have a last name?" She notices that Vision seems to be having a hard time finding the key combination to shut off these models of computers, so she glides over to him and shuts one down herself.

"Maximoff, I suppose."

"Wait, like the guidance counselor?" Willow moves across the rows of desktops and powers each one down with practiced efficiency.

"Oh!" Vision says, "You've met Wanda. Yes, she's my wife. We are new in town."

"New in town? And you moved here? "

"Is there… something I can help you with?"

"Oh, uh," Willow says, "Like I said. I kinda subbed this class last semester. So I thought I'd… see if you needed any help with anything."

"That's quite alright. Thank you for offering." Subtly, he tries to urge Willow towards the door, but she ignores him quite pointedly, heady excitement filling her at her disregard for authority.

"So, uh," Willow says, "Where did you say you moved here from?"

"Pardon?"

"You said you just moved here. Where from?"

"Oh, um," Vision stutters, "Well, you see…" He forces a kind of cough, stalling his answer. And then with a glance at the door: "Oh, Wanda!"

At that moment, rather conveniently , Willow notes, Mrs. Maximoff pokes her head into the room, "Hey, Viz!"

"I was just finishing up here. Willow was just asking… where we moved from."

"Oh, um…!" Wanda starts, "Well, that doesn't really matter now, does it? It's where we are that matters. I mean, that's what I always tell the students I… guide. As a very qualified guidance counselor." The laughter erupts again, and Willow wonders why that's funny. Wanda clears her throat, "Viz, could you take my stuff out to the car? I've got some things to finish up but I'll be out in a jiffy."

"Of course, Darling," Vision says, and he takes her bag from her shoulder, leaving the door ajar as he goes.

But once he's gone, the door shuts behind him by some telekinetic force, and before she can speak Willow is shoved against the wall by red lightning.

"Who are you?" Mrs. Maximoff demands, her fingers outstretched as Willow struggles against the force.

"What?" Willow cries, "I'm Willow. I'm sorry for running in the halls today!"

" What are you? Why can't I control you?"

"I'm just a person!" Willow says, "But I guess you're not! L-lemme go, lady!"

To Willow's surprise, she does. Willow collapses to her knees, breathing heavy.

"Look, I don't like to talk back to teachers, but you've got no idea whose best friend you're messing with, b…— uh, bitch ." The word feels icky in Willow's mouth, but she thinks it fits.

"Mind your own business," says Wanda, "And stay away from Vision."

Wanda marches out of the room, this time opening the door like a normal person, and Willow decides that she most certainly will not be minding her own business.


"Hey Will," says Buffy as their paths cross in the hall, "Didn't see you at research time today."

"What apocalypse are we researching again?" Willow asks, her focus understandably elsewhere.

"Uh," Buffy says, "I think it's just preemptive research? I dunno, I just punch things."

"Buffy, don't you see?" says Willow, "There's no apocalypse. Isn't that weird?"

"Maybe the season's on hiatus," says Buffy to laughter from the 'audience'.

"Buffy, what does that mean ? You just broke the fourth wall! We're not in a TV show. Right? "

"Will, you're acting crazy. There's no apocalypse today, but maybe there will be one tomorrow."

"You haven't noticed anything weird?" asks Willow, "Giles hasn't said anything?"

"Just garden-variety Sunnydale weird," says Buffy, "Wanna get mochas?"

"That's okay," says Willow, "Maybe tomorrow. I've got some… homework to finish."