(Note: Some dialog taken directly from the episode.)

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its characters are the property of Joss Whedon.

She's an extraordinary girl

In an ordinary world

And she can't seem to get away

-Green Day, "Extraordinary Girl"

Buffy at up in bed, checking out the sketches in the back of Micheal Poole's book for the gazillionth time, when there was a knock at the bedroom door. Beside her, Spike shifted and tightened his arms around her, nuzzling his face into her belly before he stilled again. For the past few days since being rescued, all Spike had done was sleep and drink copious amounts of blood. The prolonged bed-rest was doing him good, though. His injuries were almost completely healed. Buffy only wished she had more time to stay with him, as he seemed much more peaceful with her physically at his side. That's what the others told her, anyway; the Scoobies took turns sitting with the vampire when Buffy was at work or training the Potentials.

"Come in," Buffy called out as quietly as possible. The door opened and Tara crept in. A warm smile graced her features as she approached the bed. "How is he?"

Buffy ran her fingers through Spike's white-blonde curls. "Better. No nightmares," she smiled at the witch, "What's up?"

Tara held something up, almost sheepish. At first, Buffy thought it was the medallion she'd gotten out of Spike, but this one was on a chain. "Th-The tracking spell I used on the medallion finally worked," Tara explained, "Only Amy w-wasn't there."

Buffy pressed her lips together and exhaled a long breath from her nose. "Well, we knew catching her was a long shot, anyway. At least she won't be able to use these mind-control things on anybody else."

"I'm gonna destroy them," Tara stated bluntly, "These things...they're too evil to exist."

Buffy heartily agreed.

Tara sat down on the edge of the bed and gestured to the book in the Slayer's hand. "You've b-been reading that a lot lately."

"Not so much reading as lookin' at the pictures." Buffy held up the book to show her one of the sketches.

Tara's eyebrows lifted. "Th-That looks like the Seal of Danzalthar."

"Yeah. I'm thinking Poole's 'Guiding Spirit' had him draw all these things because we're going to encounter them at some point." Buffy frowned at the book. "Just wish he could've included some instructions with them," she grumbled, "Or at least give some kinda clue as to what these things are. I mean, what the heck is this supposed to mean?" She turned the page to a drawing of what looked like a stone tablet of some sort with strange letters carved into it.

"'It is not for thee. It is for her alone to wield.'"

Both women turned surprised looks to the suddenly awake vampire. "You can read this stuff?" Buffy asked.

"Sure," Spike answered in a rough, just-woke-up voice, "I'm an educated bloke, me."

Buffy smirked fondly. "Showoff."

The peroxided vampire smiled.

"M-Maybe we can find something on these other sketches," Tara suggested, "See if w-we can dig up anything useful."

"Couldn't hurt." Buffy passed her the slim volume.

"Glad to see you're getting b-better, Spike," Tara said in parting.

"Thanks, Glinda."

Once Tara shut the door behind her, Buffy scooched down until her head was lying on the pillow beside Spike's, putting their gazes level with each other. She reached out and gently traced his angular features. "How're you feeling?"

"Bloody knackered," he muttered, but he was smiling, and the link hummed with quiet contentment. He sighed as Buffy's fingers brushed against his Claim mark, sending a faint thrill through his body. "How long've I...?"

"Three days," Buffy replied, "Well, closer to four. You must've drank six pigs worth of blood."

"Had a lotta healin' to do." With a groan, he rolled onto his back and gazed down at his bare torso. The sybols the Bringers had carved into his flesh were gone, only the faintest white lines remaining. The swelling in his left eye had gone down so he was now able to see out of both eyes. And his ribs, while sore, no longer felt as if they grated on each other with every breath.

"You'll be up and around in no time," Buffy encouraged.

"Mmh," Spike grunted, noncommittal.

There was another knock. Buffy suppressed a sigh. "Yeah?"

Vi peeped into the room. "Hey, uh, Chloe was wondering if she could switch rooms with Molly? She says Rona talks in her sleep."

Oh, for god's sake. Buffy almost snapped at the girl. She forced herself to at least sound calm, "Fine. Just...figure out the sleeping arrangements on your own."

"O-Okay." Vi flashed a nervous smile and ducked back out.

Spike frowned in bewilderment. "Who the bloody hell was that?"

"Oh, right. You were kinda out of it when I brought you back." Buffy rolled onto her side to face him. She told him about Giles's unexpected arrival, about the Potentials, and the destruction of the Watchers Council. "We've got five of 'em so far," she concluded, "And more Potentials are on the way."

Spike's brow furrowed in thought, taking it all in. "Huh."

"I've been training them," Buffy said, "Figure we need all the fighters we can get. You wouldn't believe how raw they are. None of them have even seen a vampire before."

Spike quirked an eyebrow at this. "Watchers couldn't be bothered teachin' them?"

"I'm guessing they stuck to mostly book learning."

The vampire snorted. "That'll do sod all when their necks are on the line. Hands-on experience is what they need."

"That's my line of thinking," Buffy agreed.

A thoughtful look came to Spike's eyes. "I could help with the training," he offered, "Soon as I'm back on my feet, I mean. Show 'em what a real vamp can do."

Buffy was surprised; she'd considered asking Spike to do just that, but hadn't been all that sure he would say yes. "A-Are you sure? Hanging out with a bunch of teenaged girls isn't exactly your thing."

Spike raised on shoulder in a half-shrug. "Like you said, we need all the fighters we can get." His expression hardened. "This is my war, too, luv."

Yes, it certainly was. Buffy leaned in to kiss him. "Thank you."

Spike kissed her back, wishing he had the energy for more. But already his eyelids were drooping. In a few minutes, he was sound asleep once again.

Vi and Rona navigated the rows of tombstones, bodies tense, eyes wary. Each girl carried a stake. Vi clutched hers in both hands, her eyes darting back and forth nervously. Rona was slightly less jumpy, but still noticeably anxious.

A twig snapped. Rona spun around only to get knocked down by a glancing blow. The vampire loomed over her in full gameface, a predatory growl emitting from its throat. Vi made a desperate lunge with her stake. The vamp grabbed her wrist and spun her around so her back was against his front, her arm pinned behind her. The vampire's other arm went across her shoulders to hold her in place. From the corner of her eye, Vi saw the creature's jaws open wide, felt the telltale pinpricks of its fangs on her neck. She screamed.

Spike drew back and let his features morph back into human. He looked to where Buffy and the other Potentials stood a short distance away, observing the exercise. "Okay," he said, all business, "These two are dead. Why?"

Rona got to her feet and muttered irritably, "'Cause the black chick always gets it first?"

"What was that, Rona?" Buffy's tone carried a hint of warning.

The Potential sighed, "I'm dead because he's a vampire. I don't have Slayer strength, Slayer speed. It—It wasn't a fair fight."

Spike addressed the girl still pinned against him, "Vi, d'you think I care if it's a fair fight?"

"No. N-No, sir," she stuttered, "You don't play by the rules and I have learned a valuable lesson...of some sort. Ow!" The redhead flinched as Spike applied a little more pressure to her twisted arm.

Buffy kept her expression neutral, though the vampire sensed her amusement. "Okay, Spike," she chided.

With a slight smirk, he released the Potential, who immediately hurried out of his reach, rubbing her sore arm.

"You're right," Buffy answered Rona, "You don't have Slayer strength, but that doesn't mean that you're not strong. You have inherent abilities that others do not have."

"Not like you do," Molly pointed out. The English girl was diligently taking notes throughout the lesson.

"No, not yet," Buffy admitted, "But it's there. You have the potential. You have strength, speed, instinct. You just have to learn to trust yourself. Rona. What did your instincts tell you to do just then?"

"Block his attack, keep him off-balance, gain the ad...vantage..." the girl's voice trailed off as she noticed the Slayer's unconvinced expression.

"No, they didn't."

Rona fidgeted, embarrassed. "They told me to run."

"Vi?"

"They told me to run," the redhead agreed. She through a nervous glance towards Spike. "They're still sort of telling me to run."

"Don't fight on his terms. Your gut's telling you to run, run." This instruction surprised the Potentials, especially the die-hard Kennedy. "Regain the higher ground. Make the fight your own." Buffy looked at the blonde vamp. "Spike, what did your instincts tell you to do just then?"

"Hunt. Kill." Spike's stance was relaxed, yet alert, ready to leap into action at a second's notice. Even without his gameface on, it was easy to see the predator in him.

Buffy drew her stake from its holster and stepped closer. "Come at me, full speed."

Spike grinned, always happy to get into it with the Slayer. As his face morphed once again, Buffy turned her back to him and spoke to the gathered teens, seemingly unconcerned with the deadly creature behind her. "He needs to kill to live. That tells you everything you need to know."

Without even turning around, Buffy dodged Spike's sudden lunge. The vampire collided face-first with a large tombstone and fell to the ground. The girls flinched in sympathy. Buffy took advantage of his dazed state and jumped onto him, straddling his waist while she pressed the tip of her stake to his chest. "Instinct," she stated calmly, "Understand his, but trust yours. You were chosen for a reason."

There was a flare of pain through the link and Buffy heard a sharp inhalation. She looked down in alarm to see Spike in his human face, his expression tense as he swallowed in discomfort.

"A-Are you okay?" she asked, sounding like the worried girlfriend instead of the no-nonsense instructor. She quickly rose up on her knees to take her weight off him.

"Fine," Spike raised himself up on his elbows, "Couple of ribs ain't quite set right since... I'm fine."

"Let me see." Buffy tried to lift the front of his shirt up. Spike gently drew her hand away. He held on for a moment longer than necessary and ran his thumb across the back of her knuckles. His smile was tender as he quietly assured her, "I'm gonna be okay."

"That's hot," Rona stated drily.

Buffy's cheeks flushed at the reminder that they had an audience.

"So, we're supposed to, like, make out with him or somethin'?" Molly asked. The poor girl wasn't even joking.

"Careful, Buffy," Vi warned, "Just when you think it's part of the lesson, he'll...hurt your arm."

Spike grinned in amusement as Buffy scrambled to her feet. He let her help him up, then he and Buffy schooled their features back into seriousness.

"Molly, Kennedy, let's go. You're up," Buffy ordered, "Next lesson."

The two girls picked up their stakes and wandered into the cemetery. Spike met Buffy's gaze for a moment, then vanished among the graves without a sound.

All in all, Buffy thought the first field exercise was pretty successful. She certainly learned a few things. It was clear the Potentials had a long way to go before they were ready for battle. They lacked confidence, they froze at crucial moments, didn't trust their instincts. Every one of them had "died" within a few minutes of trying to hunt Spike.

"How's your head?" she asked while the girls noisily tore through the kitchen for a snack. Buffy grimaced at the thought of how much the next grocery bill would be.

Spike rubbed his hand over his scalp, mussing his hair. "Fine. Few zaps, but nothin' I can't handle." He'd been careful not to hit anyone too hard, sticking mainly to glancing blows and a few wrestling moves.

Buffy squeezed his shoulder. "Thanks again for this. It's gonna be a big help, having them work with a real vampire."

"Need all the bloody help they can get," he muttered, "Never saw a Slayer as green as them. Even all of 'em together'd make easy pickings for a vamp with just a few years experience."

Buffy pursed her lips in worry. "If we had more time..."

"But we don't," Spike met her troubled gaze, "The First is gonna start makin' noise again soon enough. These girls have gotta learn fast or they won't stand a chance."

Buffy knew he was right. They were going to have to chuck the girls into the deep end and hoped they could swim. "Any ideas?"

"I'm thinking field trip," Spike suggested, "Something a bit more hands-on."

Buffy listened as he explained what he had in mind. She wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea, but she trusted Spike's judgment. And they couldn't afford to play it safe.

"Gimme a night to recon, first," Spike suggested.

Buffy nodded. For better or worse, she agreed to this course of action. She just hope she wouldn't come to regret it.

Buffy hated making speeches, yet that's all she seemed to do lately. The next morning, she and the Potentials were gathered in the basement, which functioned as their training/classroom. Buffy paced while the girls chattered and laughed among themselves like ordinary teens. Dawn sat on the basement steps behind her, no doubt feeling left out. Buffy felt bad for that, but not enough to include Dawn in the training regimen. She wasn't a Potential, after all.

Instead of yelling over the chatter, Buffy flung an axe over the girls' heads and almost smiled at the shocked looks on their faces as the weapon embedded itself in the archery target on the far wall. She now had their undivided attention.

Buffy didn't mince words, "You're all gonna die. But you knew that already. 'Cause that's the cool reward for being human. The big dessert at the end of the meal. Don't kid yourselves, you guys. This whole thing is all about death. You think you're different 'cause you might be the next Slayer?" She threw a challenging glare at the youthful faces. "Death is what a Slayer breathes, what a Slayer dreams about when she sleeps. Death is what a Slayer lives. My death could make you the next Slayer."

She strode across the room to retrieve her axe. "Oh, goody. Rapt attention. I love that so much." She yanked the axe free of the target, returned to the front of the room. "Now, where was I? Ah. If we go with what Anya's resources are telling us, then the First is in remission for a while, which we think means advantage us."

Chloe held up her hand. "What does that mean, about the First?"

"Best we can tell, he—or, more precisely, it—was putting a lot of stock in that übervamp thing. The...Chaka Khan."

"Turok-Han," Dawn eagerly spoke up.

"So, when I kicked its ass, the whole Firsty circus decided to back off for a while. Good news? It means we have some breathing space for a while," Buffy's expression turned more serious, "Here's the half-empty; time away means time to regroup. And part of that regrouping is coming back stronger than ever. The odds are against us. Time is against us. And some of us will die in this battle. Decide now that it's not going to be you. I know you're all tired, far away from home, anxious. But you're all special. Most people in this world have no idea why they're here, or what they want to do. You do. You have a mission. A reason for being here. You're not here by chance. You're here because you are the Chosen Ones."

Speech over, she turned and started up the stairs, saying to her sister in passing, "Dawn, you'd better hurry up and eat something so you're not late for school."

She didn't see the look of disappointment on Dawn's face.

Work was fairly uneventful, though Buffy did have a fairly interesting talk with a girl named Amanda. Buffy liked her. Amanda gave the impression of being the shy, mousy intellectual, but when pushed too far, the girl could prove a real terror towards bullies. It got Amanda into trouble more than once, which was probably why she was one of those students who was most frequently sent to Buffy's counseling office. Buffy and Amanda talked for a while, mostly about the girl's confusion about an irrational crush she had towards a boy who picked on her, then it was time for Buffy to call it a day.

She returned home to total chaos. Several items had been knocked over in the living room and Vi, Rona, and Xander were all trying to shout over each other. Andrew was there was well, looking more and more distressed by the arguing. Before Buffy had a chance to say anything, Andrew cried out, "Why do we always have to yell!"

At least that shut everybody up.

Buffy didn't even try to hide her exasperation as she entered the living room. "I was only gone a couple of hours."

That was as far as she got with her chastising before Willow approached with news from the coven. The Scoobies all gathered at the dining table a few minutes later and Willow told them that the coven's seers had located another Potential. The twist: she was already living in Sunnydale.

"All these girls flocking to town, and this one's already right here under our noses," Anya remarked at the irony.

"Wait. The seers couldn't find out her name or, like, her address or anything?" Xander frowned in puzzlement, "Am I getting the definition of 'seer' wrong?"

Buffy sighed in frustration, "I was gonna take the girls out tonight for a little show and tell, but maybe now I shouldn't."

Hovering in the background, Andrew lamented, "They were so excited. You're gonna break their little hearts."

"This town is lousy with Bringers," Buffy pointed out, "I-I don't wanna risk that they find this new girl first."

Willow shook her head. "No, you should go. I-I can do a spell to find her tonight. I just have to get together a few ingredients. But y-you shouldn't skip your training. It's too important."

Buffy regarded her friends with a mixture of worry and hopefulness. "You think you can handle it?"

"No problemo," Xander responded confidently.

"Yeah, you guys have more important things to do," Dawn added. It was painfully obvious how left out she felt, not being able to go along on the outing, but she didn't complain. She was so over her whiny little girl phase. Instead, she would focus on other ways to make herself useful, such as helping Willow with her locator spell.

Buffy considered the pros and cons, then finally nodded. "Okay, I'll take 'em."

"Yes!" Andrew pumped his fist.

Buffy gave him a pitying smile. "Andrew, you're not going."

"What? But why not?"

"'Cause I already have half a dozen Potentials to watch. I can't babysit you, too." Buffy got up from the table and made her way towards the kitchen to collect the girls. Unfortunately, Andrew was in a persistent mood and followed after her.

"C'mon! Lemme go with you guys!"

"Quit begging, Andrew."

"I'm not begging!" he whined.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You're like a small dog dancing for Snausages."

They entered the kitchen to find the Potentials gathered around a pile of weapons on the breakfast bar. The girls watched the argument in amused curiosity.

"You don't want me coming along 'cause you think I'm evil." Andrew frowned sullenly and crossed his arms.

"He doesn't seem evil, exactly," Vi commented.

"He's not evil," Buffy replied, "but when he gets close to it, he picks up its flavor like a mushroom or something."

"But I'm reformed," he insisted, "I'm like Vegeta on Dragon Ball Z. I used to be a pure Saiyan, and now I fight on the side of Goku."

Buffy didn't even try to puzzle through that bit of incomprehensible geek trivia. "Still not coming."

"It's not fair!" Andrew all but stamped his foot, "Spike's killed people, and he gets to go."

"Spike didn't have free will," Buffy argued, "You did."

Andrew sulked. "I hate my free will."

Spike arrived a moment later from wherever he'd been hiding all this time to a chorus of "hi's" from the girls. "This where you're all hiding. We ready to go or what?" he asked with a hint of impatience.

Buffy was all too eager to get the show on the road. "Let's go, girls. Grab your weapons."

"This is a bar!" Chloe exclaimed as they were herded into Willy's.

Kennedy grinned, "Best damn field trip I ever took."

Molly's eyes widened as she noticed the bar's patrons. "Look, they're all—they're demons!"

"It's a demon bar!" Vi declared, "It's like a gay bar, only with demons."

Naturally the girls' piping voices drew attention. One particularly imposing demon stepped away from the bar and approached the group. Spike recognized him and stepped forward to intercept.

"Spike!" the creature grinned grotesquely, "Long time. Nice of you to bring snacks."

"Touch them and lose your privates," the vampire stated coldly. The demon's beady eyes narrowed, then he nodded and returned to his bar stool.

Vi hugged herself and eyed the retreating demon warily. "I don't like him."

"He seemed to like you," Spike retorted with a smirk, "Nice job of blending in, girls."

Rona snorted, "We're a buncha fifteen-year-olds in a demon bar. How much blending did you think we were gonna do?"

Buffy was quick to explain that blending in really wasn't the point. "Usually, you come to a place like this, you wanna be seen. You want to scare someone or make contact."

"Or have a strong drink?" Molly asked. The Potentials' faces lit up.

"Not really." Buffy cocked her head as if considering something. "But if you guys feel like trying something, it's fine with me."

The girls' eyes widened; they couldn't believe their luck.

"Do they card?" Vi naïvely asked.

"Nope. Go ahead," Buffy waited until they started for the bar before adding, "Down all the yak urine shots or pig's butt spritzers you like."

Spike suppressed a chuckle at the looks on the girls' faces.

"Gross," Kennedy wrinkled her nose.

"Got that right," Spike snorted in derision, playing along with the Slayer's prank, "Prices they charge, you should get human blood straight from the body." At their incredulous looks, he reminded them, "Vampire."

All joking aside, Buffy told them, "Look, if I come here, it's because I gotta wring information out of something large, scary, drunk, with a room full of friends who don't care very much for the Slayer. Remember that. Not a being in here that wouldn't gladly rip your throat out."

"Buffy?"

She turned to discover a familiar, loose-skinned, dog-faced demon approaching with his arms held wide. "Girl, how ya been!"

"Clem!" A delighted Buffy ran into the demon's welcoming hug. "You look great! So toned."

Spike overheard Kennedy whispering to Rona, "He's ripping out her throat right now."

"Oh, my god, it's so good to see you!" Clem gushed, "I saw this great show on the History Channel the other night that I knew you would love. But then something went all flooey with my TiVo."

Buffy's eyes lit up as an idea occurred to her. "Y'know what? Can I talk to you for a second?" The two of them stepped away from the group to discuss something in private.

"You think she dated him, too?" Kennedy joked.

Spike wondered what Buffy was up to. He sensed her mischievous side coming into play once again.

With a final nod, Buffy and Clem returned. "Okay, everyone," Buffy made the introductions, "This is the girls."

"Howdy!" Clem waved, then eyed the Potentials shrewdly. "So, you girls are gonna deal with demons, huh? Just let me tell you this..." He leaned towards them, beckoning in a conspiratorial manner. The girls naturally leaned closer. Then Clem showed them just what was hiding under all those wrinkly folds in his face.

Spike barely kept it together as the girls recoiled in horror.

"I could use a shot of that yak urine right about now," Vi muttered, face pale.

Next stop was an actual vampire nest. Spike had found it on his reconnaissance the night before. It was inside a derelict crypt. The vamps had been little more than squatters, and they'd been quick to pick up and leave when Spike mentioned that the Slayer would be coming by. The vampires had left in a hurry, though. They'd left quite a few signs of their presence in the abandoned nest; empty beer cans, a couple of ratty sleeping bags, a hammock in the corner. Perfect for Buffy's needs.

"A vampire is an animal," she lectured as she and Spike led their charges into the crypt, "Sometimes they run in packs, sometimes alone. Who can tell us where we are?"

The girls eyed their surroundings in varying degrees of curiosity and distaste.

"It's a nest," Rona answered.

"How can you tell?" Buffy asked.

Kennedy's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Only a vamp could live like this."

"Some, yeah," Spike responded, "As a group, we're not known for our tasteful décor, but in all fairness to the race..." he looked around with frown of disapproval, "this place is seriously lacking in style."

Buffy smiled at her lover in fond amusement. "He has a point. Vampires can live anywhere, any way they want. Tastes, fashions, living conditions—they can vary. The animal inside? Always the same."

"Where'd you live?" a curious Molly asked.

Spike blinked, caught off guard by the question. "What, you mean before? A crypt, actually, but nicer. A bit more..." he smiled, somewhat self-conscious, "I don't know if 'posh' is the right word, but it was more like—"

"Comfy," Buffy spoke up without thinking.

The teens giggled. Great. She'd just given them more ammo for their endless gossipping.

"Moving on," Buffy returned to serious teacher mode, "You want to stay alive, you have to spot and identify a nest on sight. Look around, all of you. Look for signs that last night maybe a dozen, two dozen vampires were right where we're standing. Go ahead."

At her coaxing, the girls began to explore the abandoned nest. While they did that, Buffy and Spike took advantage of the relative quiet to have an adult conversation.

"Work, work, work," Spike sighed, "This little excursion was just in danger of being interesting."

"Hey, just remember, you volunteered for this." Buffy rubbed his arm affectionately. She frowned a little, taking in his long-sleeved buttoned shirt. "There a reason you're not wearing the duster?"

The vampire shrugged. "Didn't think I'd bee needing it."

Needing it? Before she could figure out what he meant by that, Buffy noticed Molly and Chloe staring at something in an isolated corner of the crypt. From their body language, it was something unpleasant. Buffy sighed, "Y'know something, Spike? I'm thinking interesting's not gonna be a problem."

The rest of the girls began to gather around whatever it was Molly and Chloe had found. Buffy walked over to them. "What'd you find?"

"It's a body!" Molly exclaimed, morbidly fascinated.

A young man lay face-down on the floor. Probably some unlucky guy out for a walk who got snatched up before the vamps vacated the nest. Buffy knelt down beside the corpse and grabbed the collar of the man's shirt to pull him up a few inches. She saw the bite marks on his neck. She also saw the flecks of blood on his lips.

"It's not a body," she said, letting it drop back to the floor, "It's leftovers."

A moment later, the newly-risen vampire raised his head and glared at her. There were cries of "ohmigod" as the alarmed Potentials stumbled back. The fledgeling vampire slowly got to his feet, still slightly disoriented from his resurrection. His nose twitched at the tempting scent of prey and he bared his new fangs in hunger.

Buffy remained calm. She drew her stake from the sheath at the small of her back and held it at the ready.

"A-Are we safe?" a fearful Chloe stammered.

"No one's safe," Buffy answered, "Not here, not ever. You see this guy?"

"But he was dead a minute ago!" Kennedy cried.

"That was a minute ago. Now..." Buffy kicked the approaching vamp in the face.

The creature staggered from the impact and rasped an indignant, "Hey!"

"He's the enemy."

The Potentials watched in awe as the Slayer engaged the fledgeling. Even as she fought, Buffy continued to lecture, "You can't think too much. Reacting's better. Could mean the difference between staying alive and that other thing.

The question is never, 'What do you think?' It's always, 'What do you know?' You gotta know, 'cause if you don't, if you make one mistake—"

The vamp managed to knock the stake from her hand. Kennedy started forward to help, but Spike but a restraining hand on her arm. Ad his admonishing head-shake, Kennedy stayed put, though she fidgeted in frustration.

Buffy didn't try to retrieve the stake right away. She only grabbed for it when she'd beaten the fledgeling back to a safe enough distance. Many a Slayer in the past had gotten herself killed while going for a fallen weapon and leaving herself with a vulnerable opening for a vamp to exploit. That was how Spike killed his first Slayer in China.

"It takes just one vampire to kill you," Buffy continued, "One vampire having one good day."

Spike chuckled silently.

"So you've gotta know you can take him. Know your environment. Know what's around you and know how to use it. In the hands of a Slayer, everything is a potential weapon, if you know how to see it. When you're fighting, you have to know yourself—your brain, your body. Know how to stay calm, centered. Every move is important. Every blow's gotta be part of your plan. If you make that one mistake, then it's over. You're not the Slayer. You're not a Potential. You're dead."

At Buffy's wordless prompting, Spike subtly began to make his way towards the crypt's entrance. The girls didn't notice, too caught up in the show Buffy was putting on for them. Then Buffy began to back herself towards the door, leading the vampire closer to the Potentials in the process.

"So, what do you know?" she challenged, "See now, the only thing you know for sure?" A solid kick sent the vamp flying across the room. Instead of giving chase, Buffy shocked the girls by abruptly dropping her stake. "You got me," she concluded. Then she and Spike were shutting the crypt's double doors, leaving the Potentials trapped inside with the fledgeling.

Buffy put her back against the door and leaned her head back, eyes closed. Already she heard the battle being waged inside the crypt. Shouts and frightened cries from the girls, enraged snarls from the vampire. Buffy reached out and felt relief when Spike's cool hand enveloped hers.

"Sink or swim," she muttered.

It was all over in a matter of minutes, but they were some of the longest minutes of Buffy's life. She heard the vamp's scream, the distinctive whoosh of its dusting, then the victorious whoops and cheers of the Potentials. Buffy released Spike's hand and turned to open the doors. She made sure to look as if she'd expected this outcome all along.

When they got home, Buffy was abruptly cornered by the frantic Scoobies who told her that Dawn was in danger. Willow's spell for finding the Potential had apparently indicated that Dawn was the very girl they were looking for. Dawn understandably freaked out at this revelation, but instead of hiding out in her room as the others had believed, the girl had sneaked out through her bedroom window for some reason. Willow and Tara performed a locator spell to find her; she was at the high school.

Buffy and Spike jumped into Xander's car and the carpenter sped them over to the school. They discovered they'd arrived none too soon, as Dawn and another girl were being attacked by Bringers as well as a vampire. Buffy and Spike took care of the Bringers, while the girl—Amanda, Buffy realized with amazement—fought the vampire with a broken flagpole for a weapon. She used the splintered end to stab the vamp in the chest and the teen gaped as the creature dusted in front of her.

Buffy snapped the neck of the last remaining Bringer, then stared in amazement at the girl. Amanda had fought with way too much natural skill to be an ordinary teenager.

"Okay," Amanda's voice was faint with shock, "One minute I'm in Swing Choir, and the next... What the hell is going on?" She glared almost angrily at the blonde woman. "You tell me to come to you with problems. Turns out a vampire attacked me. Problem. So I go to your house, only when I get there, this orange cloud hits me."

"She was at the doorway," Dawn said, voice subdued.

"And I don't know if your into the drugs, but that's not my deal, alright?" Amanda blurted, "That cloud hit me, and I got a little dizzy and discombobulated."

"It was Willow's spell," Dawn explained, "She's the Potential Slayer."

They gave Amanda a ride home. Buffy would need to come up with a plausible lie to convince the girl's parents to let Amanda move in with the rest of the Potentials. Maybe some kind of specialized after-school program or something.

The next day, Amanda came over to meet her fellow Potentials. The girls were somewhat in awe of the fact that she'd dusted a vampire on her own. Pretty soon the teens were all bonding over their adventures.

All of them but Dawn. She stood apart from them, watching Amanda quickly becoming part of the group.

Buffy approached, on her way to take the girls to the basement for their lessons. She smiled at her younger sister. "Hey. You okay?" she asked, picking up on the girl's subdued mood.

Dawn visibly drew herself up. "Yeah. I was thinking of hitting the books, do some research on the First. It's in retreat mode right now, but you're still gonna need to know how to fight it."

"Great. Sounds good." She turned her attention to the Potentials. "Hey, you guys. You wanna head downstairs, get your newest arrival up to speed?"

The happily chatting girls all followed the Slayer to the basement. Dawn walked over to the dining table—their main place of research—and picked up one of the books from the stack to be read. After a few moments of silent reading, she asked without looking up, "What's up?"

Xander smiled. He'd been leaning against the doorway, watching Dawn study. He sauntered over and sat himself down in the empty chair beside her. "I'm just thinking about the girls. It's a harsh gig, being a Potential. Just being picked out of a crowd. Danger, destiny. Plus, if you act now, death."

"They can handle it."

"Yeah. They're special, no doubt," Xander agreed, "And the amazing this is, not one of them will ever know. Not even Buffy."

Unseen by either of them, Spike paused on his way to the kitchen and remained out of site around the corner. He didn't know why he was eavesdropping exactly, except there was something about Harris's voice in that moment that compelled him to listen.

"Know what?" Dawn asked.

Xander paused for just a second before he answered, "How much harder it is for the rest of us."

"No way. They've got—"

"Seven years, Dawn," Xander stated solemnly, "Working with the Slayer, seeing my friends get more and more powerful. A witch, a demon. Hell, I could fit Oz in my shaving kit, but come a full moon, he had a wolfy mojo not to be messed with. Powerful. All of them. And I'm the guy who fixes the windows." There was no self-pity in his tone, just simple resignation.

Still, Dawn tried to put things in a better light, "Well, you had that sexy army training for a while, a-and the windows really did need fixing."

"I saw what you did last night," Xander said.

"Yeah, I..." Dawn sighed, embarrassed, "I guess I kind of lost my head when I thought I was the Slayer."

"You thought you were all special. And the minute you found out you weren't, you handed the crown to Amanda without a moment's pause," Xander's voice held a note of pride, "You gave her your power."

"The power wasn't mine," Dawn stated, unwilling to take credit for something that was never hers to give up.

"They'll never know how tough it is, Dawnie. To be the one who isn't chosen, to live so near the spotlight and never step in it. But I know. I see more than anybody realizes, because nobody's watching me," he chuckled, self-deprecating, then continued in all seriousness, "I saw you last night. I see you working here today. You're not special." Xander smiled tenderly at the girl. "You're extraordinary."

Hearing these insightful words, these words that Dawn had so needed to hear from someone, Spike finally understood why Buffy was friends with Harris. Because, yeah, he was an idiot at times, acting without thinking. But he was also the heart of the group. And it was a good heart.

"Maybe that's your power," Dawn said, blinking back tears of gratitude.

"What?" Xander asked.

"Seeing. Knowing."

"Maybe it is," he smiled, "Maybe I should get a cape."

"A cape is good."

As Dawn returned to her studying with a greater sense of purpose, Xander left the room and noticed Spike leaning against the wall, well within earshot. He met the vampire's gaze and for once felt none of the usual hostility. Neither man said a word, but both nodded to each other in a new understanding.