There was nobody home when Buffy returned. She should have been angry or sad or something along those lines. Instead the demon just smiled with Buffy's lips. Now she could do her own thing.

She turned to leave. Before she got ten steps, another's were stomping along beside her.

"Spike," she said cordially.

"Buffy."

"Were you following me or just waiting for me?"

Spike just smiled. A bit of a nervous smile at that.

"In all of your undead life have you ever not been following around some girl or another?"

"I'll have you know that I've spent many... I...uh. No. I guess not." He walked while staring at the sidewalk. "Bit pathetic, I know."

"I should have expected this," Buffy stated bluntly.

"You what?"

"No, not your patheticness. We've all known that for a long time," she patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. "No one home. I can't say I blame them. We don't get along anymore."

"It can never go back to the way it was, Buffy. I'm sorry to say it. Well, no, I'm not. But you'll never be able to fit in there. A lot like me, actually. No matter how many times I save your necks someone is always hankering to stake me in the back."

"I don't want to go back."

"Come again?"

"I'm walking with darkness now, not just the pun," Buffy said chipperly, "All they've ever done is dragged me down. They don't deserve me, and I deserve better. I've realized that I'm more dead inside now than I was even before, which I thought was rock bottom. I'm sick of it. It's time for me to be all the Buffy I can be. And I have you to thank." She stopped and held his trembling hands.

"You were right. You've always been able to see me right, all these years, when no one else ever did."

"Thank you," said Spike. "It means a lot to finally have someone admit it, instead of just telling me to shut up."

"And now, I'm going to follow your advice."

"Wait up. Be careful. It doesn't come naturally, Luv. I know I fucked up some decisions in my early unlife. Everyone is different. Even vampires. What works for some isn't necessarily the way it works for others. They all have different growing pains and personal trips."

"So what you're saying is that my journey is my own."

"Yeah, that's the sum of it. Hey wait. Where are you going?"

Buffy walked away from him quickly and disappeared into the darkness before he even had a chance to react.

Spike sighed and stood in the alley alone. "Bollocks. I fucked that speech up."

Anya was cheerily humming that catchy song by that latin fellow with the loose hips as she opened up the Magic Box that morning. It brought back so many good memories of her simpler youth, when mayhem was the order of the day and the possibilities were endless. Her mortal mind strayed from the throughts of money and sex to that day when young Ricky Martin's girlfriend had wished him cursed. She had made him rich, famous, and irresistable to the women, while dooming him to... well, you get the idea. And of course it didn't hurt that his singing caused pain to every straight man on the planet. Those were the good old days.

Though that song was driving her nuts...

Maybe some money would take her mind off the-

"Ah!" she screamed when she nearly bumped into Buffy.

"What are you doing here? We're not open for another twenty minutes."

"It's so nice to see that you're holding up well enough to go to work with all the badness going on these days. I'm so pround of you," Buffy purred. "Who's a big girl?"

"I am. Now what are you doing here? And how did you get in - oh wait, you broke down the back door."

"I need the books that Giles keeps in the back. The really secret ones." Buffy was smiling deviously, a wicked gleam in her eyes. Anya noted that but really didn't care. She was more worried about her door.

"You broke it, you bought it. I'll send you the bill."

Buffy ignored her. "I've already read all the books we use for day-to-day baddies. It seemed like it was for the first time."

"It was the first time. You never help when we're researching."

"The books, Anya."

"Fine. What are you looking for anyway?" Anya asked Buffy as she unlocked the back room and opened the safe.

"A little something to take the edge off," said Buffy. "I suppose you could say I've been a naughty girl. I'm looking for a little bondage."

"Here we are," announced Anya when she emerged with the books. "And don't ever say that around my Xander, or I'll have to kill you."

Buffy smiled sweetly at her as she took the books. "What's the matter? Afraid he won't think of you anymore when you're having sex?" The knot turned in her stomach. Damn these womanly feelings of jealously. What happened to the nice, healthy rage?

Bitch. She missed unhappy, responsible Buffy. This version was more likely to actually steal her Xander (and sure to scare the customers).

Anya couldn't help but steal glances at Buffy as the morning wore on. There she was, small and blonde at the corner table, surrounded by dozens of old, musty books. Her concentration was commendable, but the mess was distracting and didn't present a professional image for the store. Not to mention the blood in a mug she was drinking.

A young man went browsing through the back of the shop. Like any man Anya knew he made his way over to Buffy and feigned interest in what she was reading by peering over her shoulder. She nearly took his head off. It was entertaining but not good for business. She was so sure that he would have bought something.

"Buffy, I'm going to have to shut you in the back room," Anya said.

"I'd rather not," replied Buffy, not looking up from her reading. This was remarkable. Buffy was practically illiterate, a model of the modern American high school graduate. It would make her proud of her adopted country except that it was preventing her from accumulating the wealth she so deserved.

"You have no choice. You're scaring the customers."

Buffy looked up at her blankly.

"Having men run screaming from the store like little girls isn't good advertising."

"Would you have prefered that I killed him?"

"If you dumped the body and let me take his wallet and shoes, yes. But we're not talking about that. We're talking about you making a new home in the back room"

"Fine."

Buffy read alone in the back for several hours. It was amazing. Most vampires were quite stupid, one dimensional creatures. Everything was all here, written down by stuffy British men in old volumes. She wouldn't be like the rest of them. She was greater than that already. And now she knew what she had to do to get it all. It was all written right there in front of her. All she had to do was take it.

Occasionally Anya would wander into the back and asked if she needed a top up on her blood or if she was any closer to leaving. She was annoying and oblivious, but she was also greedy. She liked that.

One time Anya didn't leave right away.

"Can I help you?" Buffy asked.

"I know what you did," said Anya.

Buffy wasn't exactly sure which thing Anya was talking about. They were all becoming a blur to her, honestly.

"With Willow and the," Anya slid her right index finger back and forth between the hole in left hand's 'okay' sign and shuddered with a little "eww."

"That's not even physically possible."

"I'm just saying that I sortof understand. I also know what I'd be doing in your shoes, other than the hurting feet because of the whole shoe size thing. Y'know, the vampiric sucking destruction spree," Anya said, somehow just as perky as usual. "But I'm a vengeful person." Anya gave her a thumbs up and headed back into the store.

Buffy decided that she would leave Anya alive. It's nice to have people you understand.

"Xander? Dawn?" Willow yelled when she threw open the door to Xander's apartment. "Xander? Anya?"

Xander and Dawn came running from the kitchen. The bad times always call for copious snackage.

"Willow? What happened?" they asked.

"We're all stupid," she said bluntly.

"Hey! I object!" Xander yelled. Then more quietly he added, "Not on my part. Just on behalf of rest of us."

"No, what I mean is that we've been going about this all wrong. We've been harping on Buffy all this time but all we're doing is getting her mad at us. We have to make sure she knows that she has our unconditional support."

"How so?"

Willow recounted the part of her visit with Faith where she revealed that she turned to those who loved her without being judgemental.

"It's like smoking," added Dawn, who understood quickly. "When someone's trying to quit you don't keep telling them the bad things about smoking they already know. You're supposed to be all supportive and wussy."

"Right."

"We'd better find her right away," said Xander.

"Let's go," said Willow. She grabbed a dagger from the closet and handed a stake to Dawn. "Just in case wussy doesn't work."

Twenty minutes at least before sunset, Buffy thought to herself. She was standing by the back door to the magic shop with her eyes shielded from the deep red setting sun. A few scribbled papers were crumpled in the breast pocket of her jacket, right next to her longsword and stake. Buffy unfolded one and read it again for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was her future.

"Hey, Buffy. Be careful out here," said Anya, once again visiting from inside the store. "Usually all for sunshine and getting a nice tan, but in your case, not so good for your complexion."

"Thanks for the warning, but I already got it." Buffy stashed the paper into her pants pocket, one of a very small number of things that could be hidden there without leaving a seam.

"You know, I was thinking," said Anya, as Buffy thought that it would be far too easy to interject, "You should stick to tanning booths now. I've never seen a vampire with good skin, but you could use this whole new UV bed fad to be the first to beat the trend."

"I can't believe it, but that's a great idea."

"Yeah. I rock. Oops, gotta go make a sale."

Anya went back inside. "Hi there. Would you like to spend some money?" She said as she disappeared into the store.

Buffy retrieved the wrinkled note from her pants. She smoothed it out on the wall. It was getting hard to read, though she'd read it enough to know every word each cited work she'd lifted them from. They were just simple instructions. All they did was tell her how to get everything.

"Cheapskates, lousy uncapitalistic socialists." Anya blundered her way back. "Don't you just hate that?"

"Yes, red commie bastards."

"That's it exactly."

The sun was getting really low now. It wouldn't be long. Then she could end this frustrating waiting and get the ball rolling.

"Anya, do you ever think about anything else other than money?"

"Sex. But you should know that by now. Why?"

"Just wondering. Did you ever think that there was ever anything more to life? Anything greater than bling and boink?"

"Nope. It's my purpose. Now excuse me while I go see if these people are any more American."

"Time to fulfill my purpose..." Buffy whispered to herself.

"Good for you!" Anya called. "Now can I interest you in some fine slug scented candles?"

Hmm... Wasn't even talking to me, thought Buffy.

"Now will that be cash, credit, Interac, blood oath?"

The sky faded to purple. Buffy pulled her coat around her and disappeared into the night.

"Now that couple was much more free market, Buffy. Buffy?" Anya crossed her arms in mild disgust. "She didn't even buy anything."

Willow interesected the others at the bottom of the stairs. "She's not here." A quick look at the others confirmed that Buffy wasn't on the ground floor or in the basement.

"I'm thinking that subletting might be an idea," quipped Xander. "If the renters don't mind the occasional decapitation."

"Any ideas where she could be?"

"I'd be willing to bet Spike's," said Dawn. "That's where I'd go if I felt all dark and broody. Either that or the Magic Box, if I was feeling profound. And broody."

"What if she's not feeling broody?" Willow and Dawn didn't dignify Xander with a response. "You're right," he retreated. "All serious vampires are broody. Speaking of that, maybe Angel's mansion."

"Probably a bit too virtuous for her state of mind. I'm going to agree with Dawn. Let's go to Spike's. If I were straight and evil I'd go there." Willow waited for consensus.

"I want to hit the Magic Box first, talk to Anya," Xander proposed, "And, as you said, one of the more likely Buffy 'at's."

As they drove off Willow prayed to whichever god would listen that they weren't too late.

Buffy was out, not patrolling, but hunting demons. Between her hands right now was a boil covered demon, struggling valiantly to release itself from her grasp. The struggle was in vain as Buffy's powerful fingers dug into the flesh of it's shoulders, slowly dragging it to the ground. The demon wheezed for breath but only managed to produce a gurgling noise from it's throat - internal injuries from the blows Buffy had inflicted on it, though from it's grotesque appearance Buffy wasn't entirely sure that the sound wasn't natural to it's breathing.

"Vampire," the demon hissed. "There is no blood in me."

"I don't want blood," Buffy whispered sweetly into it's ear hole.

The demon flailed in her arms, boils bursting against her fingernails and the roughness of her leather coat. The puss flowed from the wounds. The mighty demon was disgraced to whimpering.

"You are mad," it said. "What do you want?"

"You have knowledge and power. Which I need and I'm going to get."

"Do you expect me to talk?"

Buffy laughed. She felt a cliché coming on.

"No, Mister Bond. I expect you to die!"

Buffy sank her teeth into the demon's neck. He tongue was assaulted with foul flavours of inhuman blood, but her mind and body were assaulted with the full power that the boil demon had possessed. She chanted the short incantation she had written on one of the papers "Alicunde caedes pradae evalescere." The demon's eyes glazed over and it fell limp from her arms. Buffy stood and wiped the sludge away from her lips.

"You're going to take some stiff whisky to kill." Buffy spat on the floor. "But it was worth it. You were smarter than you looked," Buffy said to the demon corpse. "Not smart enough though, and neither was your friend." The ground near the chamber's entrance supported the body of an eastern man, whose brain sat exposed beyond his skull. He too had been killed, his power literally sucked out of him. Buffy now had that power.

Xander was sneaking in, trying to be as stealthy as he could. He kept his head low, his eyes and ears open for motion in the corners of the room. He stuck to the shadows, he was a ninja. He-

"Xander, what are you doing?"

Anya was standing right above him, confused but wearing the same general expression on her face as normal. So that meant confused in a cheerful sort of way. Xander, on the other hand, was crouched by the doorway, trying to keep hidden behind a stringy statuette of what was apparently a rather anorexic diety.

"We're looking for Buffy," Willow explained as she and Dawn came through the Magic Box door moments later. Xander was turning an unflattering beet red. He continued in his attempt to hide. Once again the disappearing act proved fruitless.

"007 here thought it would be a good idea if he got a lay of the land, see if there were any psychotic killers ready to pounce on us," Dawn patted Xander's back fat, obviously enjoying his shame and pathetic commando skills, "but I think there's only one psychotic here."

"So," interupted a more serious Willow, "Is Buffy here?"

"No. Just me. It's a slow day."

"Dammit," Willow muttered. She pulled Dawn and Xander into a loose huddle, Dawn having to turn Xander so he was facing them. He was still the reddest item in the group, surpassing Willow's hair.

"Okay, we're going to go to Spike's. Any other ideas to where she could be?"

"None, except Angel's mansion."

"If she's completely lost it, the Bronze. It's what all the other vampires like to do whenever they come here," said Dawn.

"Maybe she left some clues in the books she was reading when she was in here earlier today."

Willow, Xander, and Dawn turned to look at the smiling yet bashful Anya, who was standing nonchalantly over their huddle, hands clasped behind her back.

"Good idea?" she said. "No?"

Xander hung his head and pointed his fingers to the sky in front of his face. He always did that with events he couldn't believe. "Why didn't you say she was here before?"

"You didn't ask."

"Yes we did. That's what we asked when we came in here."

"No. You asked 'is Buffy here?' She's not. She was."

"How long ago was that?" asked Willow.

"She left about two hours ago. She actually opened the store, in the sense that she was here at starting time this morning," Anya looked pleased. "See what I did there? I volunteered information without being asked."

"What books were she looking at?"

"The secret kind. Some of them were the ones that Giles used to keep locked up. She left them all in the back on the research table. You want to go look?" but Willow and Dawn had already started running there before Anya finished the sentence.

"Oh no," Willow gasped. "Oh no, no, no no no."

"What is it, Will?" asked Xander, who really had a hard time understanding the scope of the books in front of him without reading in depth.

"Some of these are just standard vampire books, but these here are magic tutorials and these," she pointed to a few small volumes, charred at the edges and showing significant signs of damage, "are summoning and dark magic books used by some of the big bads the we've faced over the years."

"That's bad," said Xander, not really knowing what else to say.

"And this," Willow picked up the last, but one of the thicker books, heavy with iron bindings and lock, though the lock was now broken, "is the Watcher's Council arsenal book, which outlines the specifications and ramifications of known apocalyptic magic. Known colloquially as the Doom Tome."

"Hey, that sort of rhymes," quipped Anya.

Ignoring Anya's comment, Dawn had a question. "Willow, how do you know what's in there?"

It was Willow's turn for a colour change. "I, uh. I already sort of, uh... read it."

She was met with steely eyed, increadulous stares.

"Hey, don't look so surprised. Magic user," she pointed to herself. "Magic," she pointed to the book. "Kind of curious, in a catlike, possibly suicidal sort of way." Still accusatory stares in her direction. "Hey, me. Not going to destroy the world. Buffy. More important right now."

"Right," said Xander, a little slower than normal. "We should get to Spike's and see about finding Buffy before she has a chance to end the world."

"She's going to need some high-end magic for this, which she doesn't have..."

"Does that mean we're safe?"

"...But she can get by forceably taking it from others. Oh my God, this is going to be bloody."

"I know some places where some warlocks and demon shamans hang out," offered Anya.

"Good," said Willow. "You go search there. I'll take Dawn to Spike's then I'll head to some of the places I know. Come on. Let's hurry." She and Dawn headed to the street with Xander dragging Anya by the arm.

"Xander!" Anya complained. It was still another few hours until closing time. "What about the store?"

"All mighty Avilas..." Buffy said, "please accept our sacrifice. Please appear before us, oh mighty soldier of the dark. Please appear before us, and grant us with infinite riches, and we will pay you with our sacriface. We kneel before you with the gift of flesh."

Dust swirled before her and coalesced into the form of the giant demon, horns protruding from the thick scales on his head.

The demon stared in shock when he appeared to simply one little girl.

"What?" his deep voice echoed through the cavern.

"I lied." Buffy instantly plunged a short sword through the demon's chest.

Avilas screamed but could not move to attack Buffy. She had pinned him against the wall.

"This is going to be slow and painful." Buffy drove a dagger into each of his arms. She whispered into his ear, "You should appreciate it."

She plunged a spear through his thigh and reached for another weapon.

Dawn shrugged off yet another question.

"Dawn, you have to take this more seriously!" said Willow as they walked, briskly, through the cemetary. "We don't need another Xander here. Or especially another Anya." Shudder. "This is big, and you've got to treat it big."

"Why? She's always acted this way. At least now she has an excuse."

"Dawn. I'm running out of things to say about this. Now I know how Buffy felt having to put up with you."

"Careful. You're starting to sound like me. Or Anya."

"I'm sorry, Dawn," said Willow. They were nearing Spike's crypt. "Loads on my mind right now. Kinda stressing. I just worry."

"Don't. If the need arises, I will be ready to fight and muck about. Even if that means Buffy-"

"Willow, Dawn, what brings you to my neighbourhood?"

Dawn jumped. She just wasn't expecting Spike to surprise them.

"Spike!" she yelled. "Don't do that to me. Just because you can't have a heart attack doesn't mean that you can't give one to us."

"What were you two talking about there? I heard something about Buffy and mucking about. Can I come?"

Willow scowled at him. Dawn really couldn't tell if it was intentional or not, but she did know that Spike was observant enough to notice. Spike scowled back at her.

"We're trying to get her back on our side," Willow stated bluntly.

"What's with the mucking about then?"

"She might not be in the mood," said Dawn.

"Oh, I hope she is," replied Spike. Eww.

"We don't have time for this, Spike. Do you know where she is?"

"No, but if you see her, send her my way. I think I can help her."

"You? How?"

"She's a creature of the night now. Hence, me. Light banished to dark. She really can't be anywhere else. It's not her world anymore. She belongs in the shadows, with me. I understand what's she's feeling. The lot of you, not so much."

"Good God, Spike!" Dawn yelled. "What's wrong with you?"

"Sorry, Niblet. I love her. And dammit, I am being possessive. I hope you understand." With that Spike turned and disappeared into his crypt.

"He didn't used to be a bastard," Dawn remarked after he left.

"Don't take it too hard, Dawn. Love can make you stupid sometimes."

Buffy was feeling better, stronger, and bolder as she stepped through the boundary of warm air, seemingly out of place in the cold night. Emerging in a dingy waiting room, smelling of cigarettes and human filth, her greatest fear was having to spend too much time in this pit of refuse for her own sense of personal well-being. She couldn't pick up any diseases but it was just icky.

There were a handful of people scattered throughout, young witches and wizards, each looking as though they were withdrawing from drugs. Magic was addictive. She knew this too well. She'd seen firsthand what it could do to the weak and needy. Poor fools. It was just as well that their suffering would end soon. After a breif suffrage increase, of course.

Buffy barged her way in through the door on the other side of the room amid protests from the strung out youths lounging on the run-down furniture.

"Hey man!" one obviously stoned guy yelled. "I was next! Dammit, not again..."

There was a girl floating in mid air, seemingly floating on streamers twirling around the room. Buffy grabbed her by the ankle as she drifted by, throwing the young witch into the wall. She really didn't complain as much as one would expect, what with the laying there all quiet and still. That was a goodly sized dent in the wall though.

An older man was sitting, half sprawled on the sofa at the opposite side of the room. His hair was long and dishevled. He was wearing a plain brown collared shirt with a heavy looking pendant around his neck. This was the warlock she sought. The veiny face and fireworks dancing from his fingertips were a dead giveaway.

"That was unexpected," the warlock said. "Not to mention uncalled for. And rude. Girl, if you seek enlightenment it would behoove you to be a little more courtious."

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Miss Manners."

"No matter," he said, rising to his feet. "And the name is Rack, if that name you called me wasn't just a feeble attempt at a burn. I can already tell that you are a very determined young woman. A woman who has goals and dreams. Big dreams." He was walking around her, circling her, staring at her. "I can help you with that."

"Goody." Buffy winked at him. It seemed to rattle his calm a bit. But he continued.

"That is, if you can help me." The warlock slowly edged toward her. His outstretched hand rising to her breast, over her heart. "Let's see how you taste."

"Let's not, and say we did." Buffy kicked him in the chest, sending him flying into the opposing wall.

"You are insolent and foolish, girl. It is time for you to learn your place." The warlock stood and commanded a ray of black light to shoot from his palms.

"Haltem," Buffy said, casually. The energy deflected harmlessly away from Buffy.

Rack was surprised. "I didn't see that coming. You know what they say. If at first you don't succeed..."

Buffy calmly waved her hand, once again nullifying his attack.

"Damn, that is one effective counter spell." He looked tentatively around himself. "In that case, I must bid you farewell." Rack began waving a circle around his body in an attempt to create a dimensional door. Instead he found his hand pinned to the wall with a stake.

"Leaving so soon? But we were just getting started..."

In a final last ditch attempt at escape, Rack whispered for fire. Soon a lick of flame spread from his free hand. He tried to touch the Slayer.

"Ah, ah," Buffy cooed at her captive. Just as the fire was to erupt into a blaze, Rack's hand was forceably wrenched to his own flesh. The searing must have been painful. Buffy enjoyed watching him scream. Once his wailing faded to a whimper, Buffy brought her fangs to his neck, suckling for a long moment. She pulled back her head and licked her lips for the dying warlock to see.

"Mmmmm... Tastes like - roast pork." She sank her teeth into his neck again...

"Here Xander, I think I've found it!" yelled Anya. Score one for me, yay!

"Where?" Xander rushed toward her, confused.

They were in an alley. Really in an alley. There wasn't much around at all.

"I don't see anything."

"Of course not," she said. "Rack keeps it cloaked so that people don't bother him. Only the those in tune with the mystical forces can find it. Come on." She tried to lead him in by the sleeve but he stood his ground.

"What's the matter, honey buns?" she asked him.

"In tune. You mean like witches and vampires and demons and things?" Xander asked, well, more like stated.

"Yeah. You coming or what?"

"Anya, dear. How come you can find it, being all human now?"

"Oh that." Anya pondered for a while. Magic shop owner? Probably not, since she didn't actually use any of the wares. Xander always said she was a spiritual experience, but that probably wasn't it either. "I guess it's the ex-demon thing. Maybe I still got it."

"Sort of like riding a bike, you mean?"

"How so?"

"You know," he said, fidgeting with his hands again. "Once you learn how to ride a bike, it doesn't matter how long since the last time, you never fall off."

"Oh. Not so much of a bicycle person myself. Though this one time this woman wished me to-"

"Anya, back to work, hon."

"Right." But it was really funny. Honest. Even to non evil-minded people.

They walked through the boundary and emerged Rack's rec-room. It was just like Anya remembered. Which was scary since that was a long time ago and the decor hadn't changed. Looked straight out of That 70's Show. Except Ashton Kutcher was cuter when he was stoned.

"What is this place?" Xander asked.

"Rack's a warlock. He offers a great magic high for sharing your power with him. I used to come here back in the day with Halley." Anya looked around at the patrons who, besides looking like death on acid, were also up in arms about something. "I'm not sure why we used to come here."

"I'm not so sure why we're here now," said Xander, also looking around. "If I were superpowerful I'd spend my time in a bit nicer place than here. What makes you think Buffy would visit a place like this?"

It wasn't often that Anya got to be the intelligent, informed one, so she was going to milk this for what it's worth. "A couple of weeks ago Willow got all bummed out from coming here. Buffy got all bitchy about it and would for sure remember this place. Being best friends they'd for sure talk about it at which point Buffy would undoubtedly figure out that Rack has a lot of experience and specializes in magic transferral. Judging by the books she was reading I'm sure that she was going out of her way to increase her power so odds are that she'd come here." She folded her arms smugly in front of her, which had the added bonus of making her breasts look larger. "If I were a betting woman, and I am, I'd put my life savings on it."

"That's good," said Xander. "Now we have to see if she's here."

A young man came crashing through the door in front of them. The door didn't open - he went through it.

"I'll take that as a yes."

The young magic users in the lobby screamed and rushed out, vanishing through the wall that Anya and Xander had just come in through.

Buffy smashed down the door, with nary a "Here's Johnny!" If she noticed Xander and Anya she didn't show it, focussing her attention on the man fallen in front of her.

A girl who was huddled over the wounded boy stood up, yelling "You Bitch!" at the top of her lungs. She wound up to unleash a spell on the Slayer.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Buffy cautioned, only mockingly.

Buffy projected her punch between the distance that seperated the two of them. Without even touching her, Buffy sent the girl flying through the fake wall behind.

"Buffy, please," pleaded Xander. For what seemed like the first time, Buffy looked up at them. Anya didn't like the look in her eyes, the reflected nothing. She was scared.

"It took us a while," he began, "but we're beginning to understand what you're going through. And we'd like you to know that, whatever you choose to do, you'll have our support."

There goes my Xander, Anya thought to herself. He was slowly approaching the terrifying Slayer-come-vampire-come-witch. All noble and brave and insanely stupid. Xander was circling by the door now.

"We still care for you. It doesn't matter if you're high school cheerleader Buffy, or scary vampire witch Buffy. I know it sounds corny, but Holy Shit!"

Xander stared in through the broken door into the room behind. Anya came running to see.

She had been wondering where Rack was. Now she knew. He, or rather, what was left of him, had been quartered and strewn about the room. She recognized the haircut. Judging from the lack of blood escaping from the former join lines, the warlock had been sucked dry, after being singed. He wasn't the only one. There was a girl, dead in a heap in the corner, as well as two other bodies on the floor.

"That brings back memories," Anya mused.

"You monster!" Xander yelled.

"No, Xander!" Anya reached for him to hold him back, but it was too late.

Xander had retrieved the short sword from under his jacket and swung it down toward Buffy's head. Before the blade had a chance to land, Buffy punched him in the chest with lightning quickness. He tumbled to the floor.

"Xander! Xander!" Anya rushed to his side and cradled his head. It was bleeding badly from where he hit it against the wall. There was blood coming from his ears and mouth. The skin around his torso was quickly becoming turgid with internal bleeding.

"He's dying!" Anya pleaded with the disinterested Buffy. "Look what you've done. Help me."

Buffy rushed over and held Anya softly around the shoulders. She gave her a hug. Anya felt Buffy's cold cheek against her head, but all she could think about was Xander, his breathing slowing, his heartbeat fading.

"I'm sorry, Anya," Buffy cried. "I really am. I don't know what came over me. It's just, he came after me and I can't control myself anymore. I want to help you. I would help you, but he's dead." Buffy let go of her suddenly and got up. Buffy smiled a mischeivous smile. "Get over it."

"No..."

"Yes," Buffy said. "You see, Anya, I've learned something today. You've got to grab life by the horns if you want to reach your full potential. I've figured out what I can do with my potential. That's ruling the world. And I've literally grabbed things by the horns today. I'm going to go fulfill myself now. So you can either stay here, moping for poor, dead Xander there, or you can get on with your life."

Anya was crying. She couldn't even see anymore. She felt her Xander go limp in her arms. "You're not alive," she whispered coldly to Buffy.

"Death isn't the handicap it used to be in the olden-days. Now what are you going to make of yourself?"