Buffy had been pacing. Last night she went out patrolling and found herself staking a vampire in front of Detective Jake McCartey, who wasn't her biggest fan. It was another complication in a long list of them. She didn't know how he would react. Maybe he would back off. Maybe he would be angry if he thought Sara was involved and got hurt because of it. Maybe he would just harass her. Whatever he would do, it was still a low priority compared to whatever was happening with Dawn

Unbeknownst to Buffy, across town Jake had been reflecting on the same matter. He had tailed Buffy to figure out why a small slip of a girl was causing so much trouble with his coma-stricken partner. And he got more than he bargained for. He had been warned; he had been told by his new partner to forget it, to back off, to move on. But he didn't. He could be thick-headed like that at times and this was one of those moments where it cost him. After seeing what he saw, he went to Kate to talk about it and she gave him the skinny: vampires, demons, Slayers and everything else in between. An underground world that most knew nothing about. There wasn't enough whiskey in the world to make hearing about it any better.

Apparently, Buffy was some sort of female superhero destined to fight these things. Kate said that there was only supposed to be one Slayer in each generation, but somehow that had been changed. It seemed it was only recently, starting with Faith and ending with hundreds, maybe even thousands of Slayers now around the world.

He asked Kate about whether Sara was one. Kate didn't know for certain, but said that she probably wasn't given Sara's age and the timeframe Kate met Buffy and Faith. In any event, what he had learned didn't answer his primary question: what caused Sara's coma. Regardless, he was starting to think that blaming Buffy was looking more unfair by the minute. Yeah, she was involved, but if Kate was right, Buffy was a good guy trying to save people from things they didn't even know were out to get them.

That still left the matter of Buffy's sister and the guy keeping tabs on her. He ran Stacy Keller's record and, up until she started living with Buffy and those other people, she was well on her way to a long sentence or an early death. She pretty much kept her nose clean after that.

Jake was trying to put the pieces together: Stacy was having Buffy's sister tracked. Either Buffy knew and initiated it, or this Stacy was keeping it on the down-low. In either case, since he was going to see Buffy, it seemed a good a time as any to let her know about. If she was a good guy and Sara trusted her, then the least he could do was keep her informed. But first, he needed to see someone.

Dawn had been taking the long way home. In her case, that meant a New York slice and a soda on the way back. It was one of the simple pleasures she got since her move to The Big Apple. She stopped in the pizza shop and embraced the smell of pepperoni and sausage and the warmth of the ovens against her skin. It was a brief respite from the ever-increasing cold of the fall air and the smell of car exhaust she endured daily.

She chewed her last bite of the slice and washed it down, dreading her walk home. She knew it was only a matter of time before Buffy was on her case about her lack of presence among the group. She picked up her bag and exited the shop. As she passed by an alley entrance, a terrible feeling washed over her. She couldn't explain it, but she knew it was a portent of something dangerous. A split-second before the shot rang out she lifted her arm and, with the metal of the Witchblade protecting her, she deflected the bullet aimed at her head.

Though there were few people about, they instinctively ducked and fell to the ground, wondering where the shot came from. Dawn look around and saw no other way to protect the passers-by other than venturing into the alley. She ran as fast as she could, ducking behind a trash bin to avoid more shots.

Anxiety filled every part of her body. Dawn had been in perilous situations before, plenty of times. But this was different. She was being hunted and she knew that feeling all too well. Glory had given her a very clear lesson in what it felt to be like prey and that fear washed over her once again. But Glory wanted her for a ritual, regardless of how it ended. Whoever was hunting Dawn wanted her just plain dead; no rituals, no ceremonies, no complicated spells… just plain dead.

She darted down multiple alleys and streets to confuse and avoid her hunters. As she ventured down one of the alleys, she saw a locked entrance to a building. Kicking it in, she went inside and stopped to catch her breath. Her heart raced as her veins pulsated throughout her body and beads of sweat adorned her brow. As she began to breathe more slowly and attempted to steady her pulse, she heard a noise. Multiple noises in fact. She peeked around the corner.

Her pursuers had arrived, carrying multiple assault rifles.

Dawn heart began to race again. How did they find her? They must be tracking me, she thought. They could have planted it anywhere on her person, and Dawn knew from Giles that these trackers could be smaller than a grain of rice. It would take her forever to find it and time was not on her side.

They were closing in, with little time left for her to decide. She took a chance to make a break for the stairs. The team heard her and shouted to follow. She ran up to the fourth floor and hid once more. Fear gripped her again until a feeling washed over her. It was like every emotion she had ever felt seemingly assaulted her all at once, rising to the surface. She had been chased by Glory, pursued by ubervamps and now found herself cowering in fear from assassins: no more. No more! she thought. She was the Bladewielder, and it was time for her to draw blood.

Jake tentatively approached the door to the Slayers' headquarters. He had waited outside for a few minutes in his car, waiting and watching for Buffy to approach. When he finally saw her out of walk up to the front door, he got out and called out to her.

"Ms. Summers."

Buffy stopped when she heard her name. She knew the voice, and dreaded hearing it. She turned around and her heart fell at the site of Detective McCartey walking up to her.

"Detective… what is it this time?" Buffy asked.

"You know what this is about," Jake replied.

"Look, last night…"

"I got the gist of it from Kate, Ms. Summers."

"You did? Oh… well…" Buffy started to say as she stammered.

"And I'm here to tell you that I'm backing off," he interrupted. "No more digging."

"No more digging?" she echoed. She truly wanted to believe it.

"I already found out more than I wanted to know. Whatever Sara was involved in, I know it was to help you do what you do. And what you do is protect people. You'll have no more trouble from me."

"Thank you, Detective."

As Jake started to walk away, Buffy felt touched… and relieved. One problem that had plagued her since the "Battle of Hart Island" was over. She finally felt like things were going to be looking up. All that was left was…

"Oh, one more thing," Jake said as he turned around. "Your sister, Dawn." Buffy felt that dreadful feeling one got when they heard something they didn't want to hear, that feeling when the heart sunk and the weight of it pulsated throughout the body.

"Someone was hired to keep tabs on her, some two-bit punk looking to make a buck," Jake said.

"Who hired him?"

"One of yours, Stacy Keller. Apparently the guy is a friend from back in the day. Just thought you should know."

Though Buffy tried not to show it, that little fact was not only rattling her, but it was making her furious. Gathering herself, she smiled at him.

"Thanks again, Detective," Buffy said before turning around, entering the code and walking into her home. As soon as she got in, she yelled out.

"Stacy!"

Dawn stood near a broken banister of one of the floors of the building she escaped to. One of her assailants had fallen over and died from his injuries. The other two were lying dead behind her: one with a smoking hole in his chest and the other nearly cleaved in two. Blood dripped down her metal-covered arm. On her face was the look commonly known as the "thousand-yard stare" by soldiers and trauma victims. In her chase she had transformed from prey to predator and killed three people in the process.

Dawn snapped out of her stupor and looked at her clothes. They were stained with blood. She couldn't go home in her wardrobe condition. She couldn't even go out into the street looking like she did. Luckily, she had the good sense to take off her coat to give her greater movement before taking on her attackers. She took off her blood-stained shirt and put on her coat. How could she could explain the blood away if Buffy saw it? Vampires. I took another route home, found some and went after them. Buffy would call her reckless, probably berate her, but that was better than having her find out about three dead bodies made dead by her own hands.

She quickly rushed home, putting her blood-stained shirt in her bag and strategically placing her bag over areas on her pants where blood was visible. As soon as she entered home, there was Buffy, waiting with a not-too-happy look on her face.

"We need to talk," Buffy said. "And why do you have blood on your pants?"

Crap. "I took another way home and ran into some vamps. I wanted to let off some steam and it got messy." Hopefully, Buffy would buy the lie.

Buffy let out a loud exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose; Giles had rubbed off on her. "Dawn, why are you doing this? You know better than to patrol alone. We all agreed that we would at least go out in pairs."

"Look, you don't get to run my life."

"For the last time, I am not trying to run your life…" Buffy protested.

"Oh, really? Is that why you told Giles you were going to hold off on me patrolling until you could get the Witchblade off of me?"

"You heard that?" Buffy asked, her. face falling at the thought that Dawn heard everything.

"Yeah, I did."

"And I changed my mind. Look, Dawn, it's no secret that I hate that you're wearing the thing. I just want you to be safe. Recklessly patrolling out in this city is not safe."

"I'm handling myself just fine, thank you."

"Then why was Stacy having you followed?" Buffy asked pointedly.

"What?"

"Apparently, you nearly attacked her. She was concerned and had a friend follow you."

"Look..." Dawn started to say.

"No, Dawn. You look. I am tired of you taking all your frustrations out on me! Did I make a mistake? Yes. Was I too rash? Yeah, fine, I'll give you that. But that still doesn't explain why you attacked Stacy or why you've been patrolling alone. She was wondering where you were headed that night and I'm curious too. What were you doing out there?"

"I just walked to cool off."

"You're lying."

"Even if I was, what are you planning to do? Ground me? Send me back off to Europe?"

"Dawn…"

"No, Buffy, we're done," Dawn said before storming off to her room.

Buffy let out another sigh before walking into the kitchen to make some tea. It was times like this that she needed something to calm her down. When she opened the door she was surprised to see Giles standing there.

"Giles, we need to do something about Dawn," Buffy said.

"I agree," he replied nonplussed.

Buffy was a little perplexed. Giles had been more accepting of the new role Dawn was playing within the group and now it seemed he was siding with her on this.

"I, uh, well… that's good," Buffy stammered. "You heard all that?"

"Yes, and that's I'm in complete agreement with you. She's becoming too irrational and aggressive. I thought she could handle the Witchblade, but it seems that I was mistaken. I've been doing some research on how to remove it from her ever since I found out about that patrol-night debacle. If I need Willow, I'll contact her."

"Thanks, Giles. In the meantime, I'll see if I can at least talk some sense into her."