Author's Note: A bit shorter than the usual part. But then, I'm going away for the weekend, so I won't be able to get any writing done until Sunday night at the latest.

Disclaimer: Joss, Glenn, me.

X X X X X

Earlier:

"So," Linwood Murrow said abruptly, "You have an update on the Faith situation?"

Lilah Morgan smiled. "Yes, I do. Assistant District Attorney Carla Fisk and Amy Barksdale -- the aunt of Daria Morgendorffer, Faith's 'true identity' -- are going to court at 1:30 PM this afternoon in an effort to have Faith declared mentally incompetent. They will then appoint Ms. Barksdale as Faith's guardian ad litem until she's once again, in their opinion, mentally capable."

"Interesting," Linwood said, "But hardly worth a special update."

"You'd think so if you didn't know what their planned treatment was." She handed Linwood a thin folder. He opened it and gave the contents a quick perusal. Inside the folder were both a copy of Dr. Lynette Vaughn's report on the mental condition of Faith Lehane aka Daria Morgendorffer, and a copy of ADA Fisk's official judgment as to what the city of Los Angeles; course of action should be in the matter.

Linwood was a fast reader. After about ninety seconds he broke out into a wide grin and said, "They're planning to get rid of the Faith personality altogether."

"Yes, they are," Lilah said. "Which is why my recommendation is that we not only not take this opportunity to eliminate her, but that we in fact place some of our resources into protecting her. Any competent psychiatrist would be able, eventually, to bring about the removal of the Faith personality. And once Faith is gone --"

"No more Slayer," Linwood said.

"At least, no more trained Slayer. Daria Morgendorffer's personality, from all of our researches, is hardly the type of person to want to go out and risk her life to save mankind. She's an academic, not a fighter. And as Faith Lehane, at the moment, is the Slayer through whom the Slayer line descends," Lilah said, "The longer we keep Daria Morgendorffer alive --"

"The longer it is we won't have to deal with a new Slayer," Linwood said. "And Buffy Summers?"

"By and large tends to stick to Sunnydale. I don't foresee that ending anytime soon. More to the point, neither do our psychics."

Linwood nodded. "And what about the Watcher's Council? Once they realize that the Slayer line goes through someone who has no interest in Slaying, won't they send some of their hit squads?"

"Last winter, the night Faith surrendered herself," Lilah began, "The Council did just that. Angel and his allies defeated them quite readily. I don't think they're interested in tangling with him again. And if they decide they are, we can always send in a few mercenaries to even the odds. Yes, there will be expenses, but I think the hassle we save in the long run will more than make up for the expenses we incur from surveillance and occasional mercenaries."

"Hmmm," Linwood said. "So you think we should actually spend our hard-earned money protecting one of the 'good guys'?"

"Yes, sir," Lilah said. "I do."

"Outside-the-box thinking," Linwood said. "I like that, Lilah. Make it happen."

Lilah recognized a dismissal when she heard one. She nodded to Linwood, turned around, and left the office.

This was shaping up to be a good day . . .

X X X X X

Also earlier:

Daria was surprised to come back to herself on what looked like the same day. At least, it was the same day, if Dr. Vaughn's clothes were any indication.

"Just to check," she said, "This is still April 9, 2001, right?"

"You're right," Dr. Vaughn said. "It is."

"Then I'm confused. Did Faith ask you to give me some more practice at being me?"

Dr. Vaughn shook her head. "No. Not exactly." Then she took a deep breath. "Faith Ellen Lehane."

Nothing happened. After a few seconds, Daria said, "I'm still me."

"You are."

"I'm guessing you wouldn't be telling me this if all you'd done was simply change the trigger phrase."

"You're right. I wouldn't."

Daria was fairly sure that she knew what had happened, but wanted confirmation before she got angry. "So. There is no more Faith."

"No," Dr. Vaughn said. "There isn't."

"God damn you," Daria said coldly. "I promised her. You knew I'd promised her."

"I know," Dr. Vaughn said sadly. "And I wouldn't have done this if I'd had any other choice. Unfortunately, I didn't."

"So I guess the guns pointed at your head are invisible," Daria said. "Who knew how far technology would come in only four years? Any minute now I expect to be beamed out of here." Then, glaring at Dr, Vaughn, she said, "In fact, I'm hoping for it."

"I get that you're upset," Dr. Vaughn said.

Daria said, "What was your first clue, Poirot?"

In a badly misguided effort to be soothing, Dr. Vaughn said, "Daria, you might want to calm down. The guard's looking through the window and you don't want --"

"I think you've lost any right to determine what I do or do not want," Daria said. "And I know one of the things I don't want to do is talk to you any longer. Now. If you'd like to be spared the sight of me smashing this table into bits with my bare hands --" she wasn't entirely sure of Faith's strength level, but was sure she could crack the thing in two if she got a couple of blows in -- "Then I'd suggest you contact the guard yourself and tell him the session is over. I can wait in here until lunch."

"I'm sorry, Daria," she said.

"Me too. Sorry that, even for a second, I trusted you."

Wisely, Dr. Vaughn didn't say anything else. She picked up her notebook and pen, stood up, and left the room.

The guard stuck his head in a minute or so later. "The doc said she had to leave early; you're gonna have to stay in here until lunchtime."

"I understand," Daria said. "I'm not really that hungry, anyway."

"You're not hungry, Lehane? Guess it's time for me to go play those lottery tickets." And chuckling, he shut the door.

Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it!

X X X X X

When Amy Barksdale got the phone call from Carla Fisk, she had just dropped Rita off at the hotel and was headed off to the LA County Jail to explain the situation to Daria. (After the fiasco of having had to rely yesterday on Maggie Silber for transportation, she'd rented a car.) On the drive back to the hotel, they'd both apologized for their argument of yesterday. Amy didn't feel as though she had anything to apologize for, but one thing she'd learned in this family is that that was when you needed to apologize the most.

Rita had begged off going to the prison, claiming fatigue from the trip. Amy guessed that she didn't want to see her niece in jail, at least not without fortifying herself. She'd try to get her to come out again tomorrow.

"Ms. Barksdale?"

"Ms. Fisk. This is a surprise." Under the circumstances, surprises were not good. "What's wrong? Did Maggie Silber pull a last-minute rabbit out of her hat?"

"Someone pulled a rabbit out of their hat," Carla said, "But it wasn't Maggie Silber. It was Dr. Vaughn."

"I get the distinct impression that this particular rabbit is something from Night of the Lepus."

"If by that you mean it's not good, you're right," Carla said. "Here is what she told me, verbatim: 'I hope you're happy. It's done. There is no more Faith.'"

Amy had a horrid thought. "Is Daria still alive?"

"Yes. I didn't think she wasn't, but I called the prison to check. Anyway, if Daria were dead, Dr. Vaughn would have told me that. She said there was no more Faith. I tried calling her back to get clarification and was shuttled right to her voice mail."

"Do you have any idea where she practices when she's not helping prisoners?"

"No," she said. "But I can give you her phone number. Maybe you'll have better luck getting through than I am."

Amy pulled into a convenience store parking lot and wrote down the number. She thanked the ADA, and after hanging up, called Lynette Vaughn immediately.

"Vaughn residence, this is Lynette," the voice said.

"Dr. Vaughn? This is Amy Barksdale."

A bitter laugh from the other end of the phone. "I was expecting your call."

"I salute your psychic powers. Now, what did you mean by 'There is no more Faith?'"

"Just what it sounds like. I went in today and hypnotized Daria and excised the Faith personality myself. You and the ADA will never need to worry about her again."

"But I thought you were opposed --"

Dr. Vaughn said, "I did. I still am. I think it was a heinous thing to so much as suggest. But since you and the ADA were hellbound and determined to get rid of her, I figured I may as well do it myself and save you the heartache."

Amy said, "I don't get it."

"This way, Daria hates me. She thinks it was my idea. And it's okay if she hates me. I'm a psychiatrist and she never has to see me again. But you're her family. The closest relative she has left. And I wasn't going to let her hate you."

""I'm surprised," Amy said, "That you'd want to spare my feelings."

Another laugh from the other end of the phone. "I don't give a good goddamn about your feelings, Ms. Barksdale. But Faith -- excuse me, Daria's -- those feelings I care about. And finding out her closest relative had betrayed her would have made her absolutely miserable. And since you wouldn't let me save Faith, I was at least going to save Daria. Now, if you'll excuse me? I'm in the middle of getting drunk right now and I don't appreciate being interrupted." And, abruptly, she hung up.

Amy put her cell phone down and tried to process what she'd just been told.

She kept driving towards the jail.

X X X X X

Daria's aunt visited her late that afternoon -- Daria explained what Dr. Vaughn had done, and Aunt Amy had sympathized, but said, "That was the condition the ADA set for getting you out of jail. I hate that it happened this way, but at least now I'll be able to get you out of here faster. All I'll need to do is have a couple of other psychiatrists look you over to be sure, and --"

"Whatever," Daria had said. "Make the arrangements."

They'd chatted for a bit longer -- Aunt Rita was also in town and would drop by tomorrow -- but that was really the only important part.

She didn't fall asleep until well into the night.

And she had a special dream, finding herself back in Faith's apartment.

"Well," she said to no one in particular. "I guess that answers that question. I can even be alone and have these dreams."

"Well now," a voice came from behind her. "I wouldn't say that."

Daria spun around and saw a girl she didn't recognize. "And you would be?"

"Oh, goodness gracious me," the girl said with mock servility. "Where are my manners?" She reached out a hand as if to invite Daria to shake it. "I'm Buffy. And you are?"