Giles stumbled in late again, the haze from the alcohol wearing off. He had been trying to avoid Buffy for a long time and was working at it just fine. Dawn was seemingly engrossed in her internship even more, working later hours, so he wasn't expecting any words from her any time soon. The lobby was quiet and deserted. He would walk his way back up to his room and turn in, and the buzzed haze would dull his pain and lull him to sleep. He crept up to the stairs.

A light flickered on and a knife embedded itself into the wall inches away from Giles' face. He was barely fazed.

"We need to talk," Buffy said.

"I take it this won't wait until morning," Giles replied, smiling slightly.

"You got that right. This has got to stop, Giles."

"I'm perfectly fine, Buffy."

"Really, 'cuz that whiskey on your breath says you're not. You're stumbling in at all hours of the night, you're missing training sessions or showing up late. Illyria and I have had to pick up the slack."

"You're handling it just fine," he said.

"Maybe, but these girls need a Watcher with your experience to help them." She walked up to him and gently touched his shoulder. "We all know how you're feeling. Sara's as much a part of this group as anybody and to see her in that coma hurts me too. All the time we spent fighting when we shouldn't have been makes me regret not being the friend and ally she needed me to be. But we still have work to do; you have work to do. And I can't have this team being led by an alcoholic."

Buffy looked Giles squarely in the eye. "So you either clean up, or I call London to have a new Watcher sent over."

Giles looked at her. The threat wasn't a threat. And he knew he would do the same thing in her position. She was right; there was still a fight out there and he needed to be on his best to help and prepare the Slayers.

Giles nodded and slowly walked upstairs.

Dawn was finishing analyzing a piece of ancient text for her paper. But inside, she was restless. Her feet tapped with nervous energy. She had slayed an entire nest of vampires, by herself, with no Slayer looking over her shoulder and critiquing her every move.

The moment fought those vamps with the Witchblade she almost felt like she was outside of herself, watching herself cut through their ranks like they were mere Thanksgiving turkeys.

The fear and the thrill. The anxiety and the exhilaration. The danger and the triumph. But she was no mere human doing her best against a stronger, tougher opponent. She finally felt what it was like to be a Slayer.

She wanted more. And more she got.

Over the next two months Dawn was under the tutelage of Nottingham. They made sure she operated far away from the usual patrol areas of the Slayers' watchful eye. And while she still trained with Buffy, she longed for the thrill of combat, reveling each time she was sent by Nottingham to handle an issue.

Buffy began to notice her personality changed a bit; Dawn became more confident, yet would neglect some of the niceties. It was the little things. The rush out of the door in the morning, the short phone conversations, the grab-and-rush breakfast. But there were other things, too. She had become more territorial. She could be short with some of the Slayers and her temper would flare up at odd times. And she always seemed restless, like she needed to expel some nervous energy.

And then there were the practice sessions. Buffy, naturally, had noticed Dawn improving greatly. Almost too much so, Buffy thought, until Dawn reassured her that it was the Witchblade's previous wielders skills and traits coming out. While that alleviated her concerns somewhat, she kept a watchful eye on her charge, not knowing of the secret benefactor of Dawn's burgeoning skills.

She left the museum to meet Nottingham for a new assignment. Things had been looking up and were going great. She was no longer the Slayer's kid sister; she was a Bladewielder, one in a long line of heroines. If Sara was out for the long haul, she knew she was going to be one of the go-to people in NYC. Maybe she'd even lead the Slayers. In the back of her mind she knew she was tempting fate thinking like that.

But she didn't care. She didn't just want to tempt fate... she wanted to dare it.

And fate would call her bluff tonight.

She journeyed to Nottingham's place and walked in a bold stride. The apprehension she felt two months ago was gone and replaced by an air of strength and confidence that she never experienced while training with Buffy.

"Mr. Nottingham..."

"Ms. Summers... are you ready for tonight's assignment?

"Yeah. What's going on tonight? Demon nest? Vamps?"

"A drug lab," Nottingham replied.

"Huh?"

"A drug lab," he repeated. "One that's manufacturing Onyx. Ever since Amy was taken out of the picture, the rest of the bosses have been trying to recover. But while they're trying to recuperate from Amy's attack, smaller groups have been taking advantage of the chaos. Some are manufacturing a drug called Onyx. This is one of the major secret facilities."

"I've heard of it," Dawn said.

"Then you know how dangerous it can be."

"But... the guys manufacturing it. Are they...?"

"Human? Yes, they are," Nottingham answered.

"Mr. Nottingham, you know I don't go after humans," Dawn stated adamantly. "Sara may have been somewhat more comfortable about it, but I'm not."

"Good," he replied. "Because all I want you to do is gather intel on their operation, see if you can discover their distributors. Once we have that, I can have my own team raid the facility and then go after the distributors."

Dawn slightly breathed a sigh of relief. Dusting a vamp was one thing, but going after a bunch of drug-dealing humans was a line she was unwilling to cross, despite the Witchblade's bloody history.

"You'll be able to enter here, in between guard changes," Nottingham stated as he pointed on the layout. "Grab any files that look necessary. Acquire the hard drive of the computer and leave quickly. My information states that they have not completed installation of security cameras in all locations, including the computer room. However, this information is good as of one week ago. Be on guard."

"No problem."

Clad in black, she approached building by rooftop. It was a small building, located a few blocks from New Empire Textiles, Amy's factory. It seemed logical; Nottingham mentioned that ever since Amy had been defeated, peddlers in Onyx tripled. And the problem would only increase as the crime bosses licked their wounds. Finding information on the distributors would allow Nottingham to make sure they were stopped before Onyx became a Dateline special.

The facility was partially underground, well-guarded and nearby an old factory. "Typical," Dawn thought. She could approach from the inside of the dilapidated factory and enter into the ventilation; she was thin enough to fit. If she made sure that no one caught her, this would be an easy gig. She shot the rappelling line from the factory onto the roof and glided down. She tore through the vent with her claws, the sound muffled by the rain starting to fall. She made her way through the shafts and, true to Nottingham's intel, the office was right where the he said it was. She looked through the vent. No one was present. Suddenly, two men came into the office.

"Make sure that new batch gets to the underground clubs in Queens," the first man said.

"They're the first on the list for new supply. The Python Club wants a piece of it, too," the second man replied.

"Tell them they'll have to wait three weeks. Ever since the mob war we're running short on supply and high on demand and everyone wants to make some quick money until things get reorganized."

"They won't like hearing that."

"Well that's just too bad..." the first man replied as they left the office. Dawn scanned the room again; no cameras set up, at least yet.

She sliced open the vent and went to the computer. Contrary to what most movies taught, hacking a system was more complicated than having some sweet piece of software. You had to know the system and the exploits of it and have the right tools to hack it. And even then, it was sometimes just a matter of manipulating people into giving you info you needed to get into a system. Dawn had none of those. And getting a program to crack a password would take more time than she wanted to be there. So ripping out the hard drive would be the best solution.

Slicing open the computer and grabbing the hard drive she ran back to the vent and started to crawl only to see the two men open the door to the office.

"I forgot... What the...?" They pulled out their guns and started shooting as Dawn moved out of their sight.

She was in trouble now. The plan had called to get out by doorway that led outside to a sewer. No doubt that entrance was guarded now. Well, she'd have to try it anyway.

She got to the section of the building near her designated exit, only to find guards waiting with assault rifles.

"Not good," she said to herself. She ran back toward the center of the building, toward the main production area. While Onyx itself wasn't combustible, some of the non-mystical chemicals used to produce and cut it were, and Dawn saw the drawback of a firefight. She tried to head out of the other exit until guards burst through. She ran and slid into one of the offices nearby under a hail of gunfire.

She looked around for an exit, huddling down as the wood behind her splintered from each bullet. She crawled to hide behind a metal table. As soon as she moved a bullet grazed her arm. She yelled out in pain. Suddenly, her eyes turned red.

The Witchblade covered hands in claws and she pointed them at her attackers, letting loose streams of fiery plasma. She just wanted them scared and out of the way, just long enough for her to get to the emergency exit. She kept letting loose the streams wildly. Suddenly an explosion rocked neared one of the places she hit. She had only a split second to react before the flames of the explosion reached her. The Witchblade crawled over her body quickly, encasing her lithe body in armor before being engulfed in flames.

The explosion blew out windows on the fourth floor of the building and brought the manufacturing area to rubble. Dawn's hand burst through the pile covering her. She removed some of the rubble out of the way, her face and hair covered in ash and dust. Her clothes were torn in too many places to count.

The explosion... I caused it. I killed those men.

She had been wary of this mission from the get-go. And now her fears were confirmed. She saw a few of the burned and twisted bodies. She had killed them all. And all because of her recklessness. She was so eager to prove herself and now humans had died because of it. And the hard drive... it was damaged in the explosion. All her work, all her progress, and now she had failed Nottingham in a big way. She heard the police sirens and decided to make a speedy exit to tell Nottingham of the bad news.

It took her an hour to get back to Nottingham's place. She hesitated before opening the door to his private hall, not knowing how he would take the news. Knowing he would find out sooner or later she opened the door.

"You're back and..." He looked at her with a cautious eye. "What happened?" he demanded.

"I... they... they saw me," Dawn muttered out. "There was a firefight and..."

"And what?"

"There was an explosion," she sheepishly replied. "The manufacturing area was destroyed. I..."

"And the hard drive?" he quickly asked.

"It's here," she said as she brought it out. "It was severely damaged. I don't know how much you can get from it." She handed it to Nottingham, hoping the gesture would suffice.

He took the drive and eyed it carefully. In a flash, he threw it against the wall.

"This is nothing!" he yelled. "I ask you to accomplish one simple task and you manage to destroy the facility!"

"I tried to get out clean, but..."

A quick backhand met her face. Nottingham then grabbed her and moved her over in front of the mirror.

"I have trained you to do better than 'try'! I trained you to succeed, to prove yourself worthy of calling yourself a Bladewielder! Do you know what this will accomplish? Nothing. Any other Onyx producers will be on high alert. The distributors will be more cautious. And the police will be all over this." He turned her around and pushed her against a wall.

"This opportunity has been wasted because of your carelessness," he remarked, cutting her deeper than she had ever felt. "How did I ever believe that such a foolish young girl could measure up to the legacy of the Witchblade. Get out of my sight."

Dawn was almost brought to tears. She wanted so hard to prove herself. She was doing it, moving out from under Buffy's watchful and overbearing shadow. And just like that, the successes she had were washed away by one gigantic failure. She walked quickly toward the door. She stopped and looked at Nottingham.

"Mr. Nottingham..."

"Leave. Now." He turned away from her gaze.

And with that she left, shutting the door behind her, hanging her head in shame.

As soon as she left, Nottingham turned toward the door and smiled. He walked over to his desk and opened up the laptop. There, on the screen, was the video surveillance of the manufacturing facility, seconds before it exploded and the video feed was cut off.

The explosion had done its job.