A/N: The last part of this episode always pissed me off. Buffy's friends had been with her through thick and thin for seven years, and suddenly they all turn on her? I never found that abrupt fickleness to be plausible. They should have stood by her, no matter how bad the vineyard went. It's not like they hadn't been through similar disasters in their time, right?

Well, here's my correction. Happy reading!

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

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

You can fake it for a while,

Bite your tongue and smile,

Like every mother does an ugly child.

But the stars are leaking out,

Like spittle from a cloud,

Amassed resentment counting ounce and pound.

You're entertaining any doubt,

Because you had to know that I was fond of you,

Fond of Y-O-U,

Though I knew you masked your disdain.

I can see that change was just too hard for us,

Hard for us.

You always had to hold the reins,

But where I'm headed, you just don't know the way.

-The Shins, "Turn On Me"

Buffy walked all night, wandering aimlessly from street to street. She didn't even pay attention to where she was going, too caught up in remorse and woe to care about where her feet took her.

There was a drastic change when the sun rose. The streets suddenly became flooded with cars of every description, all of them crammed with people's worldly possessions and trying to leave town. Everyone, human and demon alike, had decided to cut and run while they still could. Rats deserting a sinking ship. It wasn't long before traffic became so congested that the vehicles moved at a crawl. Many people lost patience and decided to go on foot, toting whatever luggage they could carry. Buffy was the only one headed in the opposite direction. She felt like a salmon fighting the current.

"Hey, you!"

She turned in surprise to see Clem's familiar wrinkly face peering out at her from a new red VW Beetle. Buffy smiled and approached. "Hey."

"Do you believe this meshuggaas?" Clem waved at the surrounding exodus with a clawed hand.

"Yeah. You'd think these people had never seen an apocalypse before." Buffy kept pace as the Beetle inched forward with the slow traffic. "What about you? You just goin' for a quick spin to 7-Eleven...in Nebraska?"

The demon looked apologetic. "It's gettin' bad here. Really bad. Hellmouth acting up again. People feeling it, getting crazier. You can't swing a cat without hitting some kind of demonic activity. Not that I swing cats," he hastily added, "Or eat. Nope, cutting way back. Cholesterol—Morals! I mean morals."

Buffy almost laughed at Clem's nervous stammering. Even though they were friends, Clem never completely got comfortable with the Slayer aspect of her life, even though she'd reassured him more than once that he had nothing to worry about from her. She only killed the dangerous demons.

"We've seen some bad stuff in this town before, but, y'know, this time, it's like it just seems different. More powerful." He shook his head, long ears flopping. "I don't think anyone's gonna be able to stop it." His eyes widened and he quickly corrected himself, "I mean, I'm sure you'll do fine! Complete confidence in you. Heh. Uh, if anyone can do it, you can, because you rock! If you save the world, I'll come back. We'll have drinks." His nervous smile dropped. "When," he amended,"When, I mean. When you save the world. It's gonna be great with all the...rocking."

Buffy nodded, playing along with the fake confidence.

Clem sobered, "Maybe...Maybe you should just get out of town this time."

Buffy gazed off into the distance. "Yeah," she sighed, "I probably should."

Clem's smile was a little more sympathetic. "You take care of yourself, okay?"

The Slayer nodded. She and the demon waved farewell, then Buffy continued for home while Clem's cute little car gradually pulled away.

Buffy was still a couple of miles from home when her cellphone rang. It was Willow. She, Tara, and Giles had gone to the police to wangle some information on any unsolved cases involving churches that Caleb might have been involved in. Giles had returned to the house, but Willow and Tara had gone to the hospital to visit Xander. They had the police files with them. Buffy agreed to meet them at the hospital. It would also give her a chance to talk to Xander's doctor and find out about her friend's condition.

Caleb's assault had done a lot of damage. There was nothing left of Xander's eye to save. There was even some damage to the bone structure and musculature, which had required some surgery to repair.

Xander sat up in the reclining hospital bed, a thick patch of gauze over his left eye. He looked somewhat listless from whatever drugs they'd put him on. Willow sat at his bedside, holding his hand. Tara stood a short distance away with the police file in her hands and a kind smile on her face.

Buffy felt strained just being there. She hated being at the hospital, hated seeing one of her best friends so badly hurt. She should've been supportive, but all she did was relate to him what the doctor had told her about his condition. Keeping an emotional distance.

"They said that the meds may cause you some semi-discomfort, so you'll have to be careful with your diet."

Xander managed a weak smile. "Can't taste anything right now, anyway. I keep waiting for my other senses to improve fifty percent. They should kick in any day now."

Buffy nodded, unable to even feign amusement. "Well, we're looking at a possible release as early as tonight," she stated awkwardly, "Um, we're just waiting for your labs to get back and Dr. Kallet said that should be a couple of hours."

"That's great," Xander said without much enthusiasm.

"Okay," Buffy let out a breath, "Um, I think we're all caught up, then." Inwardly, she winced at her businesslike tone. She reached out and took the file from Tara. "Thank you for this. This was, um, really great work."

Realizing Buffy was about to leave, a surprised Willow blurted, "Oh. I thought we were... There were gonna be card games."

Buffy stared guiltily at her friends. "Uh, no, I jus— I should really get back. I wanna get everyone started on this. I think we're really close to something."

Xander nodded in understanding. "It's okay. It's gotta be done. And I might see you tonight. Without depth perception, of course, but, still..."

Buffy managed a faint smile before she made her escape from the oppressively sterile room.

"Hey, who's here?" Buffy called out as she entered the house. She sensed that Spike was asleep in their room and decided to let him be. One of them should be well-rested, at least.

"Hey, Buffy, how's Xander?" Dawn asked as she, Faith, and Kennedy emerged from the kitchen.

"He's...doing really well," Buffy replied, a little hesitant, "He's, uh, ready to come home, I think." She carried the file over to the dining area and began emptying out the papers onto the table.

"What you got?" Faith asked.

"Info that Giles and Willow were able to pull off the police database. We figured with Caleb's, y'know, overt religiosity thing, we wanna learn more about him, let's find out where he's been."

Faith picked up a report and read the long heading, "'Incidents Of Violence and Vandalism Connected to California Religious Institutions in the Last Ten Years.' Looks like this gives us a place to start."

"Yeah, I figured we'd start with California," Buffy said, "If we don't find anything there, then we'll expand the search. But a guy like Caleb didn't just get in the game. He's been playing for a while, and I want to know where. Whatever it takes." She looked at her sister. "You good to help?"

Dawn pretended to consider it. "Well, I was gonna do lots and lots of homework, but, darn the luck, they went and canceled school. So...looks like I got the time."

Buffy handed her a sheaf of papers without so much as cracking a smile, then sat down to start leafing through a manila folder.

Dawn hesitated, then ventured, "Hey, Buffy. How was Xander's mood, uh, you know, exactly?"

Buffy didn't respond, pretending to be too focused on reading.

Dawn plowed ahead, "And did you get a chance to talk to the doctor about the meds? Uh, because it seemed—"

"Hey, pipsqueak," Faith interrupted, "why don't you go and get some of the stuff you've already gotten from Giles."

Dawn glanced at the other Slayer, looked at Buffy's tense posture, then finally got the hint. "Or, um, y'know, we can talk about this later...maybe."

"Okay," Buffy whispered, not looking up.

"Yeah. I'll be right back." Dawn got up from the table and left the room to collect Giles's research.

"Try to find anything that looks like Caleb," Buffy said to the others, "his church, his ring..."

"His ability to render a Slayer useless in just one punch," Kennedy blurted. Her eyes widened when she saw Buffy tense. "I didn't...uh... That was stupid. I—I don't know why I said that."

"It's okay. Uh, you know," Buffy stood, picked up her jacket from the back of the chair, "I-I have to go to the school. Pick up the rest of my stuff."

Kennedy stood, her expression remorseful. "I really didn't mean—"

"It's fine," Buffy forced a smile, "Really, it's fine. Don't worry about it. Hey, uh, isn't Anya doing that thing for you guys today?"

"Yeah. We were," Kennedy fidgeted, "I probably should head down there now." With one last regretful look, she returned to the crowded basement with the other Potentials.

"Okay. I'll be back soon." She looked at Faith. "See that everyone else gets started on this."

The other Slayer nodded.

Buffy left the house once again and walked to the high school. The place was deserted, locker doors hanging open, loose papers and discarded textbooks littering the halls. Not a living soul in sight. Buffy entered the faculty office and went straight to her cubicle, sat behind her desk and stared at the knickknacks she'd decorated her work area with. She picked up a framed photo of her, Willow, and Xander taken her first year in Sunnydale. The three of them looked so much younger then. Nothing more than innocent children.

"That is one long face you're wearing."

Buffy looked up into a pair of sympathetic green eyes. The First Good stood on the other side of the desk, leaning forward, hands resting on the desks' surface. Or appearing to, anyway.

"You know what happened," Buffy said. It wasn't a question; more an accusation.

The girl-who-wasn't-a-girl nodded. "I'm sorry for your losses," she stated solemnly.

Buffy glared. "You could've said something. Warned us about whatever the hell Caleb is—"

"Caleb's human," the First informed her, then shrugged, "Technically, anyway."

"'Technically'? He's almost as strong as Glory was!"

"Caleb is an anomaly," the girl explained, "Unlike me, my twin can only reveal itself to people who've been marked by the Hellmouth—people who live in Sunnydale or used to live here. Or to people who are...tainted. See, demons have essences, and humans have souls. If a demon somehow gains a soul—through a curse or a gift, whatever—it's a miracle. But in a few extremely rare instances, a human's born without a soul, and that's an abomination. And I'm not just bein' dramatic here. A human, a creature of the Light, without a soul is so wrong that even demons instinctively recoil from it. And that's what Caleb is."

Buffy thought about Spike's gut reaction to Caleb. The vampire had been repulsed by the false preacher. He hadn't even known why, it was just something he felt deep down.

The First Good continued, "Caleb has a howling abyss where his soul should've been, and my twin is using that emptiness to fill him up with its power, using him as its vessel. He's like a super-charged battery. Even only half-juiced like he is now, Caleb's stronger than just about anything, human or demon."

Buffy pursed her lips. "He's stronger than me. I couldn't even hurt him," her voice dropped to a whisper, "We don't stand a chance." She gazed helplessly at the being in front of her. "Can you help us?"

"I could," the girl acknowledged, "I could go out into the world right now, find a vessel, fill it with my power, give you an unstoppable warrior." She paused. "But I won't."

Buffy stared, incredulous. "What?"

"Buffy, you don't need my help," the First smiled gently, "You have all the strength you need to win this war. You do. But if I step in and involve myself like my twin is, you'll never find that strength in yourself. If I help you, I'll just wind up crippling you."

Buffy shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. "You're wrong. I can't—I can't win this war. I've already failed everybody at the vineyard. Rona, and Xander, and...and Molly," her voice cracked on the dead Potential's name, "Caleb's just too powerful."

"There's more than one kind of power," the First Good replied, "My twin and Caleb believe in the power of brute strength. They gather it up and hold it close, all greedy like Scrooge with his money. Your power's different. You're a matchstick, like Caleb said. One match doesn't seem like that much...but whole forests have burned down because of less. That's how the Light works; it only gets stronger when its shared, not hoarded. That's what you've gotta figure out."

"And if I can't?"

The First smiled, "You will."

And then Buffy found herself once again alone in the abandoned high school. She wanted to be angry at the First Good for leaving her to her own devices, but part of her knew the girl-like being was right; she had to find the strength in herself, just like she always had. Sniffling, Buffy stood, hugged the photo of her friends to her chest, and left the office for the last time.

Halfway home, she ran through what the First Good had said about power, and she had an epiphany.

Spike was roused by a tentative knock at the bedroom door. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and grumbled, "What?"

The door cracked open just enough for Amanda to peek in. "Um, Mr. Giles wants to talk to you."

Spike's first impulse was to tell the girl to shove off, but seeing how late in the day it was, he realized he ought to get out of bed, anyway. "Tell him I'll be down in a sec."

Amanda nodded and ducked out. Spike rolled out of bed and threw on some relatively clean clothes, brushed back his sleep-mussed hair, then clomped downstairs to the living room. Most of the Potentials were gathered there, along with Giles, Andrew, and Faith. Andrew was glaring at Faith as she munched on the last few bites of a Hotpocket.

Spike addressed the Watcher, "What's up, Rupert?"

Giles grimaced slightly at the vampire's casual use of his first name. "Spike, I have a mission for you. Take a look at this." He handed over a crime scene photograph and a small magnifying glass.

The photo showed the interior of some kind of church. Spike peered through the magnifying glass, saw that what had appeared to be a knothole on the wall was actually a brand; a circle with a cross at its center. Just like the one Caleb burned onto Shannon's neck. "Looks like our boy's been here," Spike observed, "You wanna go check it out?"

"I need someone who can take care of themselves in case Caleb is after some souvenirs," Giles told him.

Spike nodded in agreement. It was dark enough outside. He could head out right away on his motorcycle.

Andrew's petulant voice suddenly broke in, "Are we gonna get to the food-stealing issue soon?"

"Take Andrew," Giles abruptly suggested.

Spike and Andrew both blurted, "What?"

"Well, you are always saying you wanna get out of the house more," Dawn remarked to the former hostage.

Andrew fidgeted uncertainly. "Yeah, but—"

"Well, there may be demons lurking about," Giles reasoned, "You never know. He's a demon expert. He can help."

Spike scoffed, "Oh, please!"

The Watcher closed the distance between them, dropping his voice to a low murmur so the rest of the room's occupants couldn't overhear, "Spike, I am begging you, take him with you. If I have to deal with Andrew's incessant whinging a moment longer I may end up throttling him."

"And that's a bad thing?" At Giles's half pleading, half threatening look, Spike rolled his eyes and sighed, "Fine, he can come. But you owe me one, Rupert."

"Excellent!" Giles grinned and waved Andrew towards the front door. "Off you go."

Face scrunched in displeasure, Andrew rose from his seat and slouched after the equally unhappy vampire.

Not long after Spike and Andrew's departure, Buffy returned with a renewed sense of purpose. "Hey, guys, how's it...going?" She gazed in dismay at the empty living room.

"Buffy," Giles appeared from the dining room.

"Giles! How did those police files work out? Were they helpful?"

"Uh, uh, yes. Very much so, I think," he took off his glasses and began to clean them, "Um, th-there's evidence that Caleb may have established a foothold up north."

Buffy's eyebrows rose at this unexpected good fortune. "That's great."

"I, um, sent Spike to look into it," Giles returned his glasses to his nose, "I sent Andrew with him."

Her eyebrows rose even higher at this. "Andrew? Giles, I know you don't like Spike that much, but...Andrew?"

Giles winced in apology. "I-I really think some time away will do him some good." He added under his breath, "I know it'll be good for me."

Buffy decided to drop the matter in favor of something more immediate, "Where did everybody go? Faith, the girls, where are they?"

"Um, Faith thought that the girls could do with some time off their studies," Giles hesitated, sensing this wouldn't go over well, "She took them to The Bronze."

Buffy's look could only be described as disappointed.

Giles stammered, "Th-The girls made what seemed like a valid argument for it at the time."

"They ganged up on you, didn't they?"

The Watcher hung his head. "Yes."

Taking pity on him, Buffy patted his shoulder. "Yeah, well, it's not like I ever listened when you tried to reason with me, either." She headed for the door. "I'm gonna see if I can get to them before they start a riot."

"Good luck," Giles muttered.

It seemed Buffy's concerns were well founded. She arrived at The Bronze just as Faith and a couple of other girls finished knocking out a handful of cops. "Faith! What are you doing?"

"Just blowin' off steam," Faith shrugged, "Well, it started that way. It turned when the cops went evil on us."

The rest of the Potentials, along with Dawn, came out of The Bronze. Some of the girls were visibly swaying on their feet. Buffy frowned. "Girls, go home. I need to talk to Faith for a minute."

Dawn started to protest, "Buffy, we weren't—"

"Dawn!" she barked, "You too. Go."

As the girls were herded off, Buffy turned the full power of her scowl on Faith. "What is this?"

"They needed a break, all right?" Faith retorted, defensive, "They've been runnin' themselves into the ground. Things just got out of hand."

"Taking a break is one thing," Buffy growled, "I get blowing off steam. But they were fighting! And those girls were drunk! What were you thinking?"

Faith squirmed guiltily. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Yeah? What if someone had gotten hurt?"

"They didn't."

Buffy struggled for a more reasonable tone, "Faith, I need to know that these girls are gonna be safe when I'm not around."

"No one got hurt, B," the other Slayer argued, "Look, you don't even know these girls. Maybe you should have a little more confidence in them. Let 'em mess up sometimes, y'know? Get down and dirty. How the hell else they gonna learn?"

"Learning from your mistakes is one thing, but you don't throw children—"

"They're not children."

Buffy glared. "That really isn't the point."

As she started to walk away, Faith called after her, "Hey, what about the vineyard?"

Buffy slowly turned to face her. Her voice was dangerously low as she asked, "What?"

Ignoring the danger, Faith pressed on, "How safe were they when you dragged them off to meet Caleb? How safe was Rona or Amanda or Molly—"

A right hook to the jaw silenced her. Buffy didn't even look back as she stormed off, leaving Faith to pick herself up.

Right away, Spike regretted letting Giles convince him to take this dubious mission. For one thing, he could sense that Buffy was experiencing a great deal of rage and frustration over something, and he wasn't there to help her through whatever it was. For another, Andrew was driving him around the bend with his endless prattling.

"You sure you don't wanna stop and pick up some burgers or something?" Andrew yelled over the motorcycle's engine, "You know, road trip food?"

"It's not a road trip. It's a covert operation." Spike felt like an idiot saying that. Covert was the last word that sprang to mind on seeing a grinning Andrew with an old football helmet on his head for protection hugging the vampire's waist just a little too cozily.

"I-I bet even covert operatives eat curly fries. They're really good."

Spike didn't know what possessed him to say, "Not as good as those onion blossom things."

"Ooh, I love those!" Andrew enthused.

"Yeah, me too," Spike admitted.

"It's an onion and it's a flower," Andrew mused, "I-I don't understand how such a thing is possible."

"Well, you see, the genius of it is, you soak it in ice water for an hour so it holds its shape," Spike explained, "Then you deep-fry it root-side up for about five minutes."

"Masterful!"

"Yeah."

They rode in silence for a moment, then Spike said, "Tell anyone we had this conversation, I'll bite you."

Andrew nodded, helmet wobbling, his happy smile unabated.

They reached their destination about an hour later. The old mission looked deserted, but when they entered Spike noticed several candles had been lit. Someone was there, but for whatever reason chose to stay hidden.

Andrew stuck close to the vampire's side, his eyes darting nervously around. "These kind of places make me feel funny inside."

Spike snorted, "How 'bout that. You and me got something else in common after all."

A hooded figure suddenly leapt out of a nearby door and attacked them. Spike thought it was a Bringer at first, until he knocked the attacker down and managed to yank the hood back. It was an ordinary human man, his eyes wide and terrified. Judging from the outfit and the large cross hanging from his neck, he was one of the monks who'd disappeared from the mission. A burn marred his right cheek; Caleb's brand.

Spike loomed over the frightened man. "Tell me about the mark," he demanded, "Are you part of Caleb's faction?"

The monk vehemently shook his head. "No, no!"

"Then tell me what happened." Spike forced his voice to sound less threatening. "We're trying to fight him. We need your help."

"You can't fight him," the monk shuddered, "You can't stop him. You can only run."

Spike straightened. "Talk."

The man gazed up at him, then came to a decision. "I'll do better. I'll show you."

Spike offered his hand and helped the monk to his feet. The monk grabbed a nearby candelabra and led Spike and Andrew down a long hallway. "One night, some time ago, a man arrived at our doors."

"And you said, 'Come in, do some damage'?" Spike asked with heavy sarcasm.

The man gave him a mildly reproving look. "We are a benevolent order. And yes, we welcomed him. We offered to feed him, but he had come for something else."

They reached the end of the hall where a statue of the Virgin Mary stood. The monk pushed the statue and the entire wall swiveled back; a concealed door. "Behind this he revealed something even we didn't know was here. A secret room. He was excited, talking the whole time. Destiny, that sort of thing."

"Yeah, we hear he's a real smooth-talker," Spike muttered.

"He was going on about this ancient inscription." The monk took down a small tapestry, revealing a tablet embedded in the wall. It was covered in ancient lettering. "He read it, and he didn't like what it said. His temper..." the man shivered at the memory, "He was the purest evil I've ever seen. He burned his mark upon me. And then I ran, and I hid...and I listened to the others die."

Andrew, in an unusual show of sensitivity, said to the monk, "Running away saved your life."

Spike stared at the tablet open-mouthed. He recognized the inscription. It was in Michael Poole's book. Yet another illustration now revealed as fact.

"What does it say?" Andrew asked, unaware of the vampire's shock.

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

But what did it mean?

Buffy gave the girls some time to sober up a little from their adventure, then she called a meeting. Xander would be home soon, plus she needed to let everyone know about her earlier revelation at the high school. She even phoned Robin, and the former principal arrived within minutes of her call.

Xander's car pulled up in the driveway, Willow behind the wheel. She helped Xander into the house and Anya hurried to support his other side. His single eye took in the sight of the homemade WELCOME HOME, XANDER banner hanging on the wall over the fireplace and he smiled.

"We didn't have time to do more," Kennedy told him, "You have to pretend there's a big party here."

His smile broadened a little. "That's fine. Parties in this house, I usually end up having to rebuild something."

He made his careful way to the comfy chair left available for him and sat down with a weary sigh. Buffy entered the living room and gave him a warm smile. "Welcome home, Xander. I wanted you to be here for this. I think you'll be interested in what I found out."

"Wh-What did you find out?" Tara asked while Willow took a seat beside her on the crowded couch.

"It's about the cellar, at the vineyard," Buffy said, "Look, I know that night wasn't fun for any of us, but I figured out some things about that place, and I realize now what we have to do." She braced herself for their reactions. "We're going back in."

There were some shocked protests, mostly from the girls. Buffy waved them into silence. "Look, I know what you're thinking. But I-I figured something out," she tried to explain, "We've spent all this time worrying about the seal and the Hellmouth. Wh-Why isn't Caleb guarding them? Why doesn't he have someone at the school protecting it? Why is he camped out at the vineyard? The bad guys always go where the power is. So, if the seal was so important to Caleb and the First, they would be there right now. They're protecting the vineyard, or something at the vineyard. I say it's their power. And I say it's time we go in and take it away from them."

Faith broke the moment of stunned silence, "Or, in the alternative, how 'bout we don't? I mean, it's a neat theory, B, but I'm not going back in that place. Not without proof. And neither should you, and neither should they."

Buffy tried to argue, "I'm not saying it's gonna be easy—"

"I think Faith had the floor," Robin surprised her by interjecting. Buffy stared at him, startled and somewhat betrayed.

"Maybe it ends okay the way you wanna play it," Faith continued, "but maybe it doesn't. And right now, I don't think I want you playing the odds."

"Did you come here to fight?" Buffy challenged.

"Listen, we're fighters, all of us, but you gotta give me something to fight. Something real, not—"

"Windmills," Robin stated quietly.

Buffy shook her head, thrown off by their doubt in her. She and Faith might not have been friends, but they'd been working well together since the other Slayer's return. And she'd believed Robin had been willing to put aside his grudge over Spike, but now she was beginning to see that this was easier said than done for the demon hunter. "There is something there," she protested.

"Maybe, but we can't be sure of that," Wood countered, "This is a hell of a lot to ask. Too much."

Giles spoke up in Buffy's defense, "For seven years, she has kept us safe by doing this—exactly this. Making the hard decisions."

"I've gotten us this far," Buffy stated, "And now you're acting like you can't trust me?"

"Why should we trust you?" Rona spoke up, "You're being reckless. You are!" she insisted at the Slayer's incredulous look. "Man, I don't even know you and I can tell! You are so obsessed with beating Caleb, you are willing to jump into any plan without thinking."

Buffy shook her head. "That's not what I'm doing."

"Well, that's how it feels to us," Kennedy stood to confront her, "People are dying."

Willow reached out to touch the girl's arm. "Kennedy."

She whirled angrily on the redhead. "Why are you always standing up for her?"

"Because she's always gotten us through the bad times," Willow answered solemnly, "Even if it meant sacrificing her own life, she always got us through the danger alive."

The Potentials remained unconvinced. Buffy could tell she was losing them. They didn't have the history with her that the Scoobies did; didn't share the same confidence in her that her friends did.

"Look, I wish this could be a democracy. I really do," Buffy said, "But democracies don't win battles. It's a hard truth, but there has to be a single voice. You need someone to issue orders and be reckless sometimes, and not take your feelings into account. You need someone to lead you."

"And it's automatically you?" Anya spoke for the first time. She stood with her arms crossed, her expression hard. "You really do think you're better than we are."

Buffy gaped, shocked by the venom in the former demon's voice. "No, I—"

"But we don't know," Anya continued, "We don't know if you're actually better. I mean, you came into the world with certain advantages, sure. I mean, that's the legacy. But you didn't earn it. You didn't work for it. You've never had anybody come up to you and say that you deserve these things more than anyone else. They were just handed to you. So, that doesn't make you better than us. It makes you luckier than us."

Lucky? She thought this duty, this responsibility, the constant risk and sacrifice was lucky? Anya really didn't understand just how hard being the Slayer was; all she saw was the glory and attention Buffy seemed to garner from it.

Buffy struggled to regain control of the meeting-turned-confrontation. "Look, I'm willing to talk strategy. I'll hear suggestions on how to break this down, but this is the plan. We have to be together on this, or we will fail again."

"Buffy, we're clearly not together on this," Robin argued.

"Which is why you have to fall in line!" she snapped, "I'm still in charge here."

"And why is that, exactly?" Rona asked, her tone bordering on insolent.

Buffy stared at her. "Because I'm the Slayer."

"And isn't Faith a Slayer, too?" the girl countered.

Faith obviously wasn't expecting this. "What? Whoa, whoa, whoa. So not what I meant! I'm not In Charge Chick. I think B here just needs to chill out for a little bit, take a siesta or something, but I'm not the one you want."

"Maybe we need a vote, to see who wants Faith to have a turn in charge," Kennedy suggested smugly, ignoring Faith's protests.

Buffy's hands clenched at her sides, her anger rising. "I didn't know this was a popularity contest."

"We don't feel safe with you in charge anymore," Rona stated bluntly, "If you lead us back to that vineyard, you're just gonna get us all killed."

Kennedy all but spat out, "You're so full of yourself, you won't even listen to other people's ideas. It's always gotta be your way. Well, we're sick of it! It's time to put somebody else in charge. Somebody who cares about us."

"You're wrong," Xander spoke up, voice still weak with recovery, but his conviction strong as ever, "Buffy cares more than you'll ever know. She wouldn't lead us into danger for the sake of her ego."

"If you believe that, then you can vote for her," Robin responded calmly. "Unless," he turned his steady gaze on Buffy, "you're forbidding us from holding a vote."

Buffy was cornered and she knew it. She was confident in her friends' support, but the Potentials and Robin were clearly against her. If she allowed the vote, she would lose against the majority. If she denied them the chance to vote, she would likely wind up with a mutiny on her hands. Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Robin nodded. "So, we vote."

It didn't take long. Giles, Dawn, Willow, Tara, and Xander all raised their hands in favor of Buffy. But all the rest, including Robin and Anya, chose Faith.

"The majority's spoken," Robin declared, "Faith's our new leader."

A small, petty voice in Buffy's head said that Faith had plotted this all along, but the rational side of her knew that wasn't so. There was not an ounce of triumph in the other Slayer's demeanor. Faith was a soldier, not a general, and she knew it.

Despair threatened to overwhelm Buffy. She knew that Faith was sure to lead them all into disaster, however well-intended her actions. But there was nothing Buffy could do about it. She was powerless.

Without a word, she headed for the stairs, ignoring her friends' sad gazes.

"Ding-dong, the witch is dead," Rona muttered.

Dawn snarled, "Shut your mouth!"

Rona had the decency to look shamefaced.

Faith hurried after the retreating Slayer. She called out to her in the second floor hallway, "Hey. Look, I swear I didn't want it to go this way."

Buffy halted, her back to the other woman. "Don't."

"I mean it. I—"

"Don't be afraid to lead them," her voice was thick with barely suppressed emotion, "Whether you wanted it or not, their lives are yours. It's only gonna get harder." She turned her head to meet Faith's eyes. "Protect them. Lead them."

Faith drew herself up and nodded. Buffy continued walking to her bedroom and shut the door behind her. The click of the latch held a sound of finality.