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End of Days

Prologue

Faith watches the seconds tick down on the timer. “Get down!” She turns away from the bomb, and jumps as it goes off. She and two other Potentials near her are thrown flying by the explosion.

Buffy smiles as she steps toward the weapon embedded in the stone in front of her. She hears the sound of the barrel over the trap door being knocked away, and looks around. She sees Caleb coming down the passage.

“So…you found it,” says Caleb. “Not impressed. ’Cause the question now, girly girl, is can you pry it from solid rock before I come over there and—”

Buffy turns away from Caleb and reaches out to grasp the weapon’s handle. She effortlessly pulls it free from the stone.

Caleb starts to look nervous. His breath hisses out through his teeth. “Hmm.” He watches Buffy turn back toward him. “Darn.”

Act I

Caleb looks at Buffy holding the weapon in her hand. “Now, before you go hurting yourself with that thing, why don’t you do yourself a courtesy and hand it over now?”

Buffy swings the device around in her hand, like she’s been handling it for years. “Yeah? You want it?” She stops with the wooden stake at the end of it pointing toward Caleb.

Caleb takes a slow step back. “You don’t even know what you got there.”

Buffy steps toward him. “I know you’re backing away.”

Caleb takes a couple more steps back. “You think wielding some two-sided do-dad’s gonna make a difference?”

The First, looking like Buffy, appears beside Caleb. “Let her go, Caleb.” Caleb doesn’t move. “I said let her go!”

“If I let her go, she slices me open with that thing,” says Caleb. Buffy looks a little puzzled. She can’t see what he’s talking to.

The First slowly walks around behind Caleb. “No, she doesn’t. She hasn’t got time. She has friends.” Buffy starts to hear what it’s saying. “And her friends are in trouble. Faith go boom.”

“I’m not letting her out of here with that thing,” says Caleb.

“Sure you are,” says the First. Caleb slowly steps aside. Buffy runs past him, and jumps up through the open trap door. “Then you’ll come back for it later,” says the First. “When she’s got her back turned.”

Amanda reaches through the smoke and rubble for a nearby flashlight. Rubble is still falling from the ceiling. She grabs the light and gets to her feet. “Hey! Hey, Faith! Anybody!” She doesn’t get an answer. “Is anybody here?”

Caridad comes coughing out of the smoke. “Me!”

“Is anybody else alive?” calls Amanda.

“Hello?” calls Caridad. “Anyone?”

“I’m—” Vi stops to cough. “I’m here!” Amanda and Caridad find her, with her arm pinned under some fallen chunks of concrete. They pull her free.

“Who else we got?” asks Caridad.

“Don’t know.” Amanda helps Vi stand up. “You okay?”

“I think my arm is broken,” says Vi. They start moving through the rubble, and their flashlights reveal two partially buried bodies. “Guess I’m lucky.”

Kennedy stumbles out of the darkness. “Where’s Faith?”

“I don’t know,” says Amanda.

“Find her,” says Kennedy.

Caridad looks around. “Maybe we should get the hell out of this place. They could—”

“Find her!” orders Kennedy.

Vi finds three more girls pulling Faith out of a pool of sewer water. “Oh, god!”

“Is she alive?” asks Kennedy.

Amanda checks. “Breathing.”

“We gotta get her out of here,” says Caridad.

“Which way is out?” asks Vi.

“There’s other girls,” says Amanda. “There’s more than Faith. We don’t even know how many of us are still…” She hears a growl. “…alive.”

“What was that?” asks Caridad.

“It could’ve been grinding metal,” says Vi. “It could’ve been—”

“No,” says Kennedy. “It was one of them.”

“That’s not possible,” says Caridad.

“How’d it get in here?” asks Amanda.

“Plans?” asks Vi.

“Run,” says Kennedy.

Kennedy and one of the other girls take Faith’s arms over their shoulders, and they carry her as they run though the sewer tunnels. The less injured girls run ahead of them. They come to a halt when they find a pile of debris mostly blocking the tunnel. They start panicking,

Kennedy catches up with them. “Cut the chatter! Up and over!” she orders. “Wounded first! Let’s go!”

The girls start climbing over the rubble. Some of the less injured go through first, so they can catch Faith when she gets passed through the narrow opening. Vi’s the last one through. Just as she’s clearing the opening a Turok-Han slashes its claws at her arm.

“Group together! Form a circle!” orders Kennedy. “Nobody panic. It’s all of us, one of him. We can take one of these things.” She hasn’t seen the second Turok-Han that’s behind her.

Andrew dumps groceries out on the dining room table, mostly pre-packaged junk food. “It was pretty amazing. A whole grocery store just abandoned.” He watches as the girls left in Buffy’s house all dig in. “Food lying around everywhere. Uh, the produce was on its way to funky town, but—”

Giles spots something he likes. “Ooh. Jaffa Cakes.” He grabs the package, rips it open, and stuffs one into his mouth.

“Uh, the apples still look pretty good, so everyone should, uh, check those out.”

The door opens behind him and Giles turns around. He sees Xander, Willow, Anya and Dawn coming back into the house. “Did you find Buffy?”

“No,” says a dejected Xander. They all move through into the living room.

Andrew follows them. “But you did that spell with the little lights. The locator.”

“It crapped out on us though,” says Anya.

“No, it didn’t…exactly,” says Dawn.

“It just took us to an empty house,” says Willow. “She must have moved on already.”

Some of the Potentials are sitting around the coffee table playing cards, so they move to the back of the room to talk. “I’m afraid we have slightly worse news here,” says Giles quietly. “Faith hasn’t returned with the other girls. Something’s gone wrong.”

Andrew sips on a juice box. “I’ve been here, keeping morale up. Because that’s important.”

“We have to go to her,” says Willow.

“Guess so,” says Xander.

“Yes,” says Andrew. “I’ll stay here, keep working on that morale thing.” He sips on his drink.

The girls stand ready, watching the Turok-Han come toward them. “Remember the training,” says Kennedy. “Everybody, get ready!” She screams when the second Turok-Han grabs her from behind.

Kennedy flips the Turok-Han that grabbed her to the ground, and the girls all start backing away from it.

“There’s another one!” shouts Amanda.

“Move! Move! Move!” Kennedy starts herding the girls back away from the Turok-Hans in front of them.

Amanda grabs Kennedy’s shoulders. “Not that one! “She turns Kennedy in the direction she’s been backing toward. “That one!” There’s a third Turok-Han. The girls all scream and start panicking again.

One of the Turok-Hans grabs one of the girls, and pulls her from the group. All three of them move in on her, slashing at her with their claws.

Caridad spots some of the Bringer’s weapons lying on the ground. “Weapons! Over there!”

Kennedy snatches up a halberd, and attacks the Turok-Hans with it. One of them leaves off its attack on the girl they have on the ground to turn toward her. Kennedy swings the halberd at it, and the Turok-Han knocks it from her hands. It grabs Kennedy by the throat, and picks her up.

A man-hole grate comes crashing down from overhead. Buffy follows it. The Turok-Han drops Kennedy and rushes toward her. Buffy punches the blade of her new weapon through its neck. The blade whistles as it flashes through the air. Buffy whirls and drives the stake end of her weapon through the chest of a second Turok-Han. It explodes into dust. The third Turok-Han grabs Buffy from behind. She drops her weapon and it and throws her into a pile of rubble. The Turok-Han pounces at Buffy. She evades it, and grabs her weapon again. Its blade slashes through the Turok-Han’s throat.

Kennedy rubs her throat and coughs as she gets to her feet, looking at Buffy.

Buffy looks around, assessing the situation. “Get the wounded. We’re leaving.”

“Are there more?” asks Kennedy.

“There’s always more,” says Buffy. “Let’s move.”

Act II

The injured Potentials are being brought into Buffy’s house. Most of them are being taken into the living room where Dawn, Willow and the others tend to them. Buffy holds a bandage against the wrist of one girl. “Will, come here! She’s losing a lot of blood.”

Willow rushes over to take over tending the girl. “Got it.”

Buffy gets up and runs toward the open front door. Giles and Xander are carrying the still unconscious Faith in the door. “The room upstairs is ready for her.”

“Good,” says Giles.

“I hope we’re in time,” says Xander. They start to carry Faith up the stairs.

Amanda and Kennedy have followed them into the house. “Is she okay?” asks Amanda. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” says Kennedy. “Right?”

Buffy watches Xander and Giles carry Faith up the stairs. “I’ll be up in a second.” She moves back into the living room.

Kennedy follows her. “You guys heal fast, right? You Slayers?”

“Yeah.” Buffy doesn’t sound too sure.

“So…she’ll be okay?”

“I don’t know,” says Buffy. She picks up the first aid kit.

“What’s with the axe thing?” asks Caridad.

Buffy picks up her new weapon and looks at it. “I took it from Caleb. It might be important.”

Vi is sitting on the sofa, craddling her arm. “Let’s hope!”

“I think we got punished,” says Amanda.

Buffy turns and looks at her. “What?”

“We, uh…we followed her,” says Kennedy. “And it was—”

“It didn’t work out,” says Vi. Kennedy turns to look at her.

“You guys, it was a trap,” says Buffy. “It’s not her fault. That could’ve just as easily happened to me.”

“So are you…are you, like, back?” asks Caridad.

“I don’t know.” Buffy takes the first aid kit and her weapon, and heads for the stairs. “I guess I’m not leaving.”

“So, we got a plan now, or anything?” ask Kennedy.

Buffy doesn’t look back as she goes up the stairs. “Yeah, there’s a plan. Get ready. Time’s up.”

Amanda watches Buffy disappear up the stairs. “I still think we got punished.” She and Kennedy share a look.

Buffy sees that they’ve got Faith laying on her bed when she enters her room. Giles and Xander have three of the Potentials standing by to help with her. “Is she breathing okay?” asks Xander.

Giles is checking Faith’s pulse. He nods. “Still unconscious, though.”

“We’ve still got work to do,” says Buffy.

Buffy shows her new weapon to Giles and Willow in Willow’s room. “I think it’s maybe some kind of scythe.” She hands it over to Giles. “The only thing I know for sure is it made Caleb back off in a hurry.”

“So it’s true,” says Willow. “Scythe matters.”

Giles shoots her an annoyed look. “And, ignoring that…” He tries a few experimental swings and thrusts with the scythe. “…I’d just like to point out this is really quite ingenious.”

“Kills strong bodies three ways,” says Buffy.

“And you say you sense something when you hold it?” asks Willow.

“Not much, but it’s strong,” says Buffy. “And I knew it belonged to me. I just knew it.”

Giles stops swinging the scythe around to take a closer look at it. “In addition to being ancient, it’s clearly mystical.”

“Yeah, I figured that one out when I King Arthured it out of the stone,” says Buffy.

“So maybe it’s like some kind of traditional Slayer weapon,” says Willow.

“I can’t imagine how something like this could exist without my having heard of it,” says Giles.

“Well, the good guys are not traditionally known for their communication skills,” says Buffy

“Right.” Giles looks a little chagrined. He sits on the end of Willow’s bed. “Um…any chance that it might be something other than a tool for killing things?”

“The First’s guys clearly wanted it out of that stone,” says Buffy. “It’s not just a tool. It’s important. We need to find out whatever we can. Who made it, when, why? Does it have a name? I don’t know, a credit report? Just find out fast.”

“We’ll start work immediately,” says Giles.

“Yeah, don’t worry, Buff,” says Willow. “We’ll find out everything there is to know.” She goes to her desk and opens her iBook.

“Good,” says Buffy. “Because right now, that thing’s all we’ve got going for us.”

Andrew tears a sheet to make more bandages. “I liked the real bandages better. These bed sheets are awfully festive. Ecch!” He wraps the torn strip of cloth around a girl’s bleeding leg.

“Yeah.” Anya pauses from cleaning the wounded girl’s shoulder. “They’re gonna look like mortally wounded Easter baskets.”

“What?” asks the girl.

Anya ignores the question, and takes a swig from a bottle of scotch.

“Hey!” says Andrew. “We’re supposed to use that to sterilize wounds. Mr. Giles said.”

“Come on, what does it really matter?” She hands Andrew the bottle.

“Hmm. Good point.” Andrew takes a swig himself.

“Giles knows his single malt antiseptics,” says Anya.

Andrew lowers the bottle. “Blech. Everything’s horrible.”

“Yup.” Anya places a bandage over the wound she’s just cleaned. “Many of these girls will die. Slaughterhouse is what it is.”

“What?” asks the girl.

“Oh…” Anya pats the girl’s arm. “…trying to talk will just kill you sooner.”

Andrew stands up, with the bottle. “We need supplies, and not just bandages and junk. These—these girls need stitches and painkillers.” He sits down again.

Anya spreads a blanket over the girl. “Yeah, well, I could use a cookie, but I’m not making reckless wishes.”

“No, no. We can do it,” says Andrew. “The hospital. It’s gotta be all abandoned like the grocery store. Supplies just lying around for the taking.” He stands up. “I’m going in.” He takes another swig.

Anya looks up at him. “You are?”

“You’re coming with me,” says Andrew.

“I am?”

“Well, I think you should drive ’cause that scotch made me a little dizzy,” says Andrew.

“Okay.” Anya gets up. “I’ll get Kennedy to watch the girls. She’s tough.” She starts to leave. “Imminent death won’t bother her.”

The girl sits up. “What?”

“You got it?” asks Buffy.

Xander looks at her across the kitchen island. “Wait. I’m not to the ‘got it’ place yet. I’m still in the neighbourhood of ‘you’ve gotta be kidding.’”

“You know it’s for the good,” says Buffy.

“I don’t,” says Xander. “Buffy, do you get that? If I do this, that’s it for me for this fight. I feel like you’re putting me out to pasture.”

“Of course I’m not putting you out to pasture,” says Buffy. “What does that even mean?”

“Well, you know, it’s like, uh…when a cow gets old and loses an eye, or its ability to be milked, the farmer takes it and puts it in a different pasture so it won’t have to…fight…with the priests. Look, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I’m not,” says Buffy.

“I got hurt, but I’m not done,” says Xander. “I can still fight.”

“I know,” says Buffy. “That’s why I need you to do this. Xander, I need someone that I can count on no matter what happens.”

“I just always thought that I would… That I would be there with you… You know, for the end.”

“Hey!” says Buffy.

“Not that this is the end,” says Xander.

“Thanks a lot,” says Buffy.

“No, no, no,” says Xander. “By the end, I meant, uh…a heroic, uplifting way. See, I’m still optimistic. You’re just thrown off a little by this gritty-looking eye patch.”

“I know what you meant.”

“I should be at your side,” says Xander. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“You will be,” says Buffy. “You’re my strength, Xander. You’re the reason I made it this far. I trust you with my life. That’s why I need you to do this for me.”

Xander thinks for a bit. He finally nods his head. “Okay.”

“Also, you can’t shoot a bow and arrow anymore, and every time you pick up a sword, I worry that you’re gonna break one of our good lamps,” says Buffy.

“Hey—”

“Don’t look at me,” says Buffy. “You’re the one who said I’m gonna die.”

“I never said you were gonna die,” says Xander. “I—I implied that you were gonna die. It’s totally different.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure.” Buffy leaves the kitchen through the door into the dining room.

Xander follows her. “Besides, if you die, I’ll just bring you back to life. That’s what I do.”

Willow is working on her iBook at her desk. “Okay, before the vineyard was just, you know, a vineyard, it was a monastery. Could’ve been put there then. Some creepy monks messing with powers they don’t understand.”

Giles is sitting on the floor by her bed, with books spread across it. He looks up at her. “No, it’s older than that. It’s pre-Christian.”

Willow looks back at her computer screen. “Okay. Well, I found reference to stories the monks used to tell about something older. Uh, like, some kind of pagan temple.”

“Native American?” asks Giles.

“No. I don’t know,” says Willow. “Ugh. Okay, maybe we’re just going about this the wrong way. Maybe we should research the weapon itself. Like…” She brings up a page on mystical axes. “…look. Maybe it’s the Axe of Dekeron, said to have been forged in Hell itself. Lost since the Children’s Crusade, where it was said to have killed—” She reads a little more. “Oh. Children. I hope that’s not it.”

Giles picks up a couple of his books. “Well, I have reference to the Sword of Moskva, the, uh…Reaper of the Tigris— How are we supposed to narrow this down? The illustrations are never clear enough.” He gets up and looks out her window at the gathering twilight. “Oh, damn. We’re running out of time. We really haven’t got anything useful.”

Willow gets up from her desk and picks up the scythe from where it was leaning against her bed. She holds it in her hands and closes her eyes.

Giles watches her for a moment. “Do you sense any of the power that Buffy spoke about?”

Willow opens her eyes again. “Gotta say no. Must be a Slayer thing.”

“Tapping into…magicks might help with that.” Giles sits down on the end of her bed and continues to look at her.

“Maybe. But, I mean, if Caleb is scared of this thing, it must be pretty dangerous. And tapping into that…” Willow puts the scythe back down on her bed.

“Willow, you could do it without endangering yourself.”

“If I tried something big, I’d change,” says Willow. “And then it’s all black hair and veins and lightning bolts. I can hardly do a locator spell without getting dark roots.”

“And if it was necessary?” asks Giles.

“Honestly? I don’t know.” Willow returns to her computer at her desk.

Giles pauses, considering how far he can push her. “All right. Do what you can. That’s all any of us can do.”

“I guess so.” Willow looks at her computer screen. “Ugh. Man, none of these sound right. I mean, look. Here’s one that’s just ‘M’ question mark. What the heck is that?”

“Let me see.” Giles puts on his glasses and comes to look over her shoulder. “It’s not a question mark. It’s the International Phonetics Alphabet symbol for glottal stop.”

“A whoey?” asks Willow.

“It’s sort of a gulping noise,” says Giles. “I’m…remembering something here.” He starts to pace. “Um…ah. Hieroglyphs. Hieroglyphs stand for sets of consonants, as you know.”

Willow didn’t know that. “Yes, absolutely.”

“‘M’ plus glottal stop is represented by a picture that’s commonly thought to symbolize a sickle or a scythe,” says Giles. “It’s in thousands of carvings. In Egypt, throughout the ancient world.”

Willow turns back to her computer. “Carvings like you’d have on a pagan temple?”

“Go back. See what else we can find out about this temple.” Giles picks up Buffy’s scythe and looks at it. “The scythe is a symbol of death. Let’s see where these pagans buried their dead.”

Dawn and Xander are searching his car. She’s in the back seat with a flashlight. “Xander, my crossbow is not out here. I told you, I don’t leave crossbows around all willy-nilly. Not since that time with Miss Kitty Fantastico.”

Xander is looking in the front. “Hey, did you know I have to take a driving test every year now?”

“Because you’re old?” asks Dawn.

“No, because of my eye,” says Xander. “It’s a whole state law. They don’t trust my depth perception anymore.”

“That sucks,” says Dawn. She starts to look under the seats.

Xander gets out of the car, and straightens up. “And you know what’s even worse? All the stupid ‘it’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye’ jokes. ‘Hey, Xander, so no more fun and games, huh?’”

Dawn finds a sword under the seat. She pulls it out, has a look at it, and puts it back. “Giles was just having fun with you.”

“That’s not the point,” says Xander. “It’s an obvious joke. It’d be like someone calling me a cyclops.”

Dawn swings her flashlight around and shines it on his face. “Oh.” She laughs, but quickly pulls herself under control when she sees the look he’s giving her. “Ahem. Okay, so not that funny.” She gets out of the car.

Xander leans against the roof. “I mean, uh… Give me some ‘eye of the beholder’ jokes. You know? Or, uh… Some ‘eye for an eye’ jokes. Or maybe even a post-modern I, Claudius joke, you know? It’s about standards, Dawnie.”

Dawn shuts the rear door. “I know.” She takes her light and puts it into her bag, sitting in the front seat.

“Just, uh, be creative,” says Xander.

“Look, everyone’s still kind of on guard around you.” Dawn straightens up, and turns toward Xander. “But before you know it—”

Xander claps a cloth over her mouth. Dawn’s scream is muffled as she tries to struggle, but she quickly passes out. Xander gently lowers her back down into the front seat of his car, and shuts the door. He goes around the car, gets into the driver’s seat, and drives away.

Caleb throws a wine barrel across the cellar. It shatters when it hits the wall, flooding the cellar with red wine. “Not that I care personally,” says the First, “but you are wasting a lot of robust, full-bodied merlot.”

“Why did you let her go?” asks Caleb. “You know I can take her in a fight.”

“We’ll get her,” says the First. “Calm down.”

Caleb paces around the cellar. “I’m calm. You should see me when I get angry.”

“She’s powerful right now,” says the First. “And you’re weak.”

Caleb glares at her. “You know, all of a sudden, I’m getting less calm.”

“Face it,” says the First. “Your strength is waning. It has been quite some time since we’ve…merged.”

Caleb stops pacing. “Maybe you’re right. Okay, let’s do it.”

“Boy, you sure know how to romance a girl,” says the First. “No flowers, no dinner, no tour of the rectory. Just, ‘Okay, I’m ready. Let’s do it.’ Help me. My knees are weak.”

“Watch what you say now,” says Caleb. “You’re starting to sound like her. This is a sacred experience for me.”

“And for me as well,” says the First, but it sounds bored. “Look, when this is all over, and our armies spring forth, and our will sweeps the world, I will be able to enter every man, woman, and child on this earth, just as I enter you.”

“Are you trying to make me jealous?” asks Caleb.

“I’m trying to make you a god,” says the First. They stand facing each other with their arms stretched out to their sides. The First transforms into its primordial form, and looms over him.

“I am thy humble servant,” says Caleb. The First flows down into him. It is an orgasmic experience for Caleb. He stumbles and falls to his knees.

Caleb rises back to his feet when it’s over, feeling full of power. “And I am ready to serve thee.” His eyes have gone black.

Act III

“You feel it, too, don’t you?” asks Buffy.

Faith is half sitting in Buffy’s bed, leaning back against the pillows and holding the scythe in her hands. “Damn. And damn, that’s something.”

Buffy is standing beside her bed looking at Faith with the scythe. “I know.”

“It’s old. It’s strong, and it feels like…like it’s mine.” Faith smiles up at Buffy, but the smile quickly vanishes. “I guess that means it’s yours.” She tosses the scythe down on the bed in front of Buffy.

“It belongs to the Slayer.” Buffy picks it up.

“Slayer in charge, which, I’m guessing, is you.”

Buffy sits on the edge of her bed. “I honestly don’t know.” She places the scythe on the bed between them. “Does it matter?”

“It never mattered to me,” says Faith “Somebody has to lead. Let’s vote for Chao-Ahn. It’s harder to lead people into a deathtrap if you don’t speak English.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” says Buffy.

“I’m really not looking for forgiveness.”

“You’re not?”

“What do you want me to say?” asks Faith. “I blew it.”

“You didn’t blow it.”

“Tell that to—”

“People die,” says Buffy. “You lead them into battle, they’re gonna die. It doesn’t matter how ready you are or how smart you are. War is about death. Needless, stupid death.”

“So, here’s the laugh riot,” says Faith. “My whole life I’ve been a loner.”

Buffy waits for Faith to go on, but she stays quiet. “That’s the funny part? Did I miss something?”

“I’m trying to—”

“Sorry. Sorry. Go,” says Buffy.

“No ties, no buddies, no relationships that lasted longer than… Well, Robin lasted pretty long. Boy’s got stamina,” says Faith.

Buffy’s eyes go wide. “Principal Wood? And you? And in my—” Buffy gets up off her bed.

“Don’t tell me you two got wriggly?” asks Faith.

“No. No. No, no. We’re just good friends. Or mortal enemies, depending on which day of the—” Buffy stops and turns back toward Faith. “Was that the funny part?”

“Okay. The point,” says Faith. “Me, by myself all the time. I’m looking at you, everything you have, and, I don’t know, jealous. Then there I am. Everybody’s looking to me, trusting me to lead them, and I’ve never felt so alone in my entire life.”

Buffy understands the feeling. “Yeah.”

“And that’s you, every day, isn’t it?” asks Faith.

Buffy thinks about that for a moment before she answers. “I love my friends. I’m very grateful…for them. But that’s the price. Being a Slayer.”

“There’s only supposed to be one,” says Faith. “Maybe that’s why you and I can never get along. We’re not supposed to exist together.”

“Also, you went evil and were killing people.”

“Good point,” says Faith. “Also a factor.”

“But you’re right,” says Buffy. “I mean, I…I guess everyone’s alone. But being a Slayer? There’s a burden we can’t share.”

“And no one else can feel it,” says Faith. They both go quiet for a moment. “Thank god we’re hot chicks with superpowers.”

“Takes the edge off,” says Buffy.

“Comforting,” says Faith.

“Mm-hmm.”

Spike comes in the front door and looks up to see Buffy coming down the stairs with the scythe in her hand. “Honey, you’re home,” he says softly. The house is dark, and the living room is full of sleeping Potentials.

Buffy stops on the bottom step. “Yeah.”

Spike looks at the scythe. “And you did it. Fulfilled your mission. Found the holy grail. Or the holy hand grenade, or whatever the hell that is.”

“Right now we’re going with scythe.” Buffy holds it up for him to get a better look at. “You like?”

“Well, pointy and wooden is not exactly the look I wanna know better, but it does have flair,” says Spike. “Can see why a girl would ditch a fella for one of these.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Buffy comes down the last step, and walks back down the hall.

Spike follows her. “It doesn’t matter. You’re back in the bosom. All’s forgiven. And, uh, last night…was just a glitch. A bit of cold comfort from the cellar dweller. Let’s don’t make a thing out of it.”

Buffy stops and looks at him for a moment. “Great. I have work to do.”

“Oh, yeah,” says Spike. “Another solo mission, of course.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to get shirty about it.”

“I’m not shirty,” says Buffy. “And what is shirty? That’s not even a word!”

“All right. All right,” says Spike. “Big secret mission. It’s fine.”

“It’s not a secret,” says Buffy. “Well, I mean, it is, but that’s the point of the mission. Find out the secret.” She holds up the scythe. “This thing was forged by… I don’t even know. I mean, something about…a tomb on unconsecrated ground. That’s what I have to do. I need to find out what this is and why I have it.”

“And that’s the thing the preacher man was so anxious to keep out of your mitts?”

“That it is.”

“Well, maybe I’ll swing by the vineyard when you go, make sure he’s sitting tight,” says Spike.

“Great,” says Buffy.

“Okay.” Spike moves into the kitchen, and goes to the back door.

Buffy follows him. “You’re a dope!”

“I’m a what?”

“You’re a dope!” says Buffy. “And a bonehead. And you’re shirty!”

“Have you gone completely Carrot Top?” asks Spike.

Buffy holds up the scythe. “Do you see this? This may actually help me fight my war. This might be the key to everything. And the reason I’m holding it is because of you. Because of the strength that you gave me last night. I am tired of defensiveness and weird, mixed signals. You know, I have Faith for that. Let’s just get to the truth here, okay? I don’t know how you felt about last night, but I will not—”

Spike looks away from her. “Terrified.”

“Of what?”

“Last night was… God, I’m such a jerk,” says Spike. “I can’t do this.”

“Spike.”

“It was the best night of my life.” Spike pauses, looking at Buffy, looking at him. “If you poke fun at me, you bloody well better use that, ’cause I couldn’t bear it. It may not mean that much to you, but—”

“I just told you it did,” says Buffy.

Spike sighs. “Yeah…I hear you say it, but…I’ve lived for soddin’ ever, Buffy. I’ve done everything. Done things with you I can’t spell, but…I’ve never…been close…to anyone. Least of all, you. Till last night. All I did was…hold you, watch you sleep. And it was the best night of my life. So, yeah… I’m…terrified.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“Were you there with me?”

“I was,” says Buffy.

“What does that mean?” Spike looks at her intently.

“I don’t know,” says Buffy. “Does it have to mean something?”

“No,” says Spike. “Not right now.”

“Maybe when…”

“No,” says Spike. “Let’s just leave it.”

“Okay.”

Spike sighs and opens the door. “We’ll go be heroes.”

Andrew opens the door of a supply room in the hospital and looks inside it. “Oh. This one has oxygen tanks.”

“They’d only be useful if something big was attacking,” says Anya. “And then we could shove one down their throat and blow ’em up like Roy Scheider did with that shark in Jaws.” She sees that Andrew is looking at her adoringly. “What?”

“You are the perfect woman,” says Andrew.

“I’ve often thought so,” says Anya. “Wanna rob?”

“Let’s rob.” Andrew starts pulling things off of shelves and stuffing them into the pillow case he’s carrying. “Oh, cool. Gauze and alcohol…tape and, oh, sutures, if we want to get stitchy with it. Oh, and there’s a…box of ointment here. I used one of these on a rash once.”

“Show me,” says Anya. She’s filling her own pillow case.

“Well, it— it’s healed up, but it was red and crusty with these little itchy places.”

“Show me the box full of ointments, you little freak,” says Anya. “And get cotton packing for the big wounds.”

Andrew gets the packing off an upper shelf. “It’s gonna be bad, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Anya moves to another shelf and starts picking through items on it.

“So how come you’re here?” asks Andrew. “I mean, you could just go. Right?”

“Yeah,” says Anya. “I did once before.”

“Before what?”

“Well…there was this other apocalypse…this one time,” says Anya, “and…well, I took off. But this time, I don’t…I don’t know.”

“Well…what’s different?” asks Andrew.

“Well…I guess I was…kinda new to bein’ around humans before,” says Anya. “But now I’ve…seen a lot more, gotten to know people…seen what they’re capable of, and…I guess I just realized…how amazingly screwed-up they all are! I mean really, really screwed-up in a monumental fashion!”

Andrew nods. “Oh.”

Anya keeps picking items off the shelves. “And they have no purpose that unites them, so they just drift around, blundering through life until they die… Which they…they know is coming, yet every single one of them is surprised when it happens to them. They’re incapable of thinking about what they want beyond the moment. They kill each other, which is clearly insane.” Anya pauses. “And yet, here’s the thing. When it’s something that really matters, they fight. I mean, they’re lame morons for fighting, but they do! They never…never quit. So I guess I will keep fighting, too.”

Andrew sighs. “That was kind of beautiful. You…you love humans.”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you do. You love them,” sings Andrew.

“Stop it!” says Anya. “I don’t love them! And I’ll kill you if you tell anybody!”

“I won’t tell anybody,” says Andrew. “Won’t get a chance to, anyway.”

“I don’t know. You might survive.”

“No, you might survive,” says Andrew. “You know how to handle a weapon, and you’ve been in this world for, like, a thousand years. I’m not so…” He sighs. “I don’t think I’ll be okay. I’m cool with it. I think I’d like to…finish out as one of those…lame humans tryin’ to do what’s right.”

“Yeah.”

“So…wheelchair fight?” asks Andrew.

“Yi! Yi! Yi!” Andrew lets out his Xena war cry as he and Anya chase each other in wheelchairs. She shrieks when he collides with her.

Buffy carries the scythe through a cemetery. She comes to an old rusted iron gate that’s overgrown with dead vines. She opens the gate and goes through it. On the other side is a pyramid shaped crypt. It’s overgrown with dead vines too. There is a wing symbol carved over the door.

Buffy kicks the door off its hinges. It clatters down the stone stairs into an underground chamber. Buffy follows the door down the stairs. The chamber is lit by burning torches, and the stone walls have Egyptian looking hieroglyphics carved in them. Buffy looks around.

“I’d forgotten,” says a woman’s voice. Buffy turns toward the source. “I’d forgotten…how young you would be.” An old woman, with long white hair appears from behind some curtains. “Comes from the waiting. Mind plays tricks.” The woman looks at the scythe. “I see you’ve found our weapon.”

“Who are you?” asks Buffy.

“One of many.” The woman smiles. “Well…time was. Now I’m alone in the world.”

“So what are you?” asks Buffy. “Some kind of ghost?”

“Nope.” The woman smiles again. “I’m as real as you are. Just…well… Let me put it this way: I look good for my age. I’ve been waiting.” Buffy holds out the scythe, and the woman takes it from her. “You pulled it out of the rock. I was one of those who put it in there.”

“What is it?” asks Buffy.

The woman examines the scythe. “A weapon. A scythe. Forged in secrecy for one like you who—” She looks at Buffy. “I’m sorry. What’s your name?”

“Buffy.”

The woman raises her eyebrow. “No, really.”

Buffy just shrugs.

The woman accepts that that’s really her name. “We forged it in secrecy and kept it hidden from the Shadow Men, who—”

“Yeah. Met those guys,” says Buffy. “Didn’t really care too much for ’em.”

“Ahh, yes. Then you know,” says the woman. “And they became the Watchers. And the Watchers watched the Slayers. But we were watching them.”

“Oh!” says Buffy. “So you’re like… What are you?”

“Guardians,” says the woman. “Women who want to help, and protect you. We forged this centuries ago, halfway around the world.”

Buffy looks around the stone chamber. “Hence, the Luxor Casino theme.”

“Forged there, it was put to use right here…to kill the last pure demon that walked upon the earth,” says the woman. “The rest were already driven under. And then there were men here, and then there were monks. And then there was a town, and now there was you. And the scythe remained hidden.”

“I don’t understand,” says Buffy. “How is it possible that we didn’t know any of this?”

“We hid too,” says the woman. “We had to until now. We’re the last surprise.”

“Does this mean I can win?”

“That is really up to you.” The woman hands the scythe back to Buffy. “This is a powerful weapon.”

“Yeah.”

“But you already have weapons,” says the woman.

“Oh?”

“Use it wisely and perhaps you can beat back the rising dark,” says the woman. “One way or another, it can only mean an end is truly near.”

A pair of hands grab the woman’s head from behind, and twist it, snapping her neck. She falls to the floor. “I’m sorry,” says Caleb. “I didn’t catch that last part on account of her neck snapping and all. Did she say the end is near…or here?”

Act IV

Dawn moans, and starts to stir in Xander’s car. “Hey, Dawn,” says Xander. He doesn’t get a response. “Dawn, you awake?”

Dawn opens her eyes. “Unh. What happened?”

“Um, I thought you might say that,” says Xander.

“Actually I meant to say what the hell happened?”

“It was chloroform,” says Xander.

Dawn is still woozy. “Colour forms… What?”

“Chloroform. Are you still loopy?”

“Sorry about that.” Dawn rubs her temple with her fingers, like she’s got a raging headache. “Someone knocked me out with chloroform.” She seems to notice for the first time that she’s in his car, and they’re driving down the highway. “Xander, where are we going? What’s going on? Talk to me!”

“Away.” Xander pulls an envelope from his pocket and hands it to her.

“What’s this?” asks Dawn.

“Just open it.”

Dawn opens the envelope and takes out the letter that Buffy had written for her. She starts to read it.

Dearest Dawn,
Don’t be angry with Xander. He only did what I told him to do. This isn’t the place for either of you. Please know that I love you and that everything I do is for you. I promised once to show you this beautiful world, and I’m going to do everything I can to make that happ—

While she was reading the letter Dawn took a stun gun out of her bag. She presses it against the side of Xander’s neck and triggers it. Xander is zapped unconscious. Dawn grabs the steering wheel of the car and reaches across with her foot to press on the brake pedal. She brings the car to a stop.

Dawn lets the car start to move again. She turns the wheel, making a U-turn to head back to Sunnydale.

Buffy swings the scythe at Caleb, but he grabs it. She tries to pull it away from him. Caleb holds on and punches Buffy a couple of times while she tries to pull it out of his grip. Buffy twists the scythe, hits Caleb in the face with the side of the blade, flips him over and breaks his grip on it. He rolls away across the floor.

Buffy attacks again, and gets in a couple of good hits on Caleb. She swings the scythe at his head, and the blade whistles as it flashes through the air. Caleb ducks under it and catches Buffy with a backhanded punch to her face that knocks her back against a pillar.

Buffy tries to hit Caleb with the scythe again, but he catches it again. They struggle for control of it. Buffy kicks Caleb in the ribs. He sends a punch at her head that Buffy ducks. His fist knocks a big chunk out of the stone pillar behind her.

Buffy breaks Caleb’s grip on the scythe, and backs away. She circles him cautiously. Caleb blows the stone dust off his knuckles and laughs. “You’re not slipping out of this fight, girl. Can’t you see? You can’t stop me. I can just keep going back for more. It’s like being reborn.”

Buffy swings the scythe at his head again, Caleb leans back and the blade whistles through the air in front of his face. He hits her in the chest, knocking her across the chamber and into the wall on the other side. Buffy falls to the floor, and drops the scythe.

Buffy tries to get up, and Caleb punches her against the wall again. She falls back to the floor. She starts to get up again, but he kicks her in the head.

Caleb leans down and picks up the scythe. Buffy’s foot flashes out and kicks it out of his hands. She catches it when it comes down, and kicks Caleb back. She kicks him again, knocking him off his feet, and onto his back. She stabs the stake end of the scythe toward his chest.

Caleb catches the scythe. Buffy tries to push it down into him, but he holds her off. He laughs and throws her across the chamber. This time he holds onto the scythe.

Caleb tosses the scythe away as he gets to his feet. He kicks Buffy in the head when she tries to get up. He stands back, watching, and kicking or punching her every time she tries to rise. Eventually he lets Buffy get up. She swings a punch at his head, but he catches her arm, and punches her in the face. Buffy falls back to the floor.

Caleb walks around her as Buffy gets back to her feet. “You know, I gave you ample warning. Told you not to interfere, but you chose not to heed.”

Buffy charges at Caleb. He grabs her and throws her onto a stone block. Buffy’s foot lashes out, catching him in the head and knocking him back. Caleb recovers quickly and throws her against a stone pillar. He almost puts her right through it, and she falls back to the floor.

Caleb turns away and picks up the scythe. Buffy looks up at him as he twirls it around in his hands. “I was kind of hoping it’d go this way.” He raises it to swing the blade down at her.

“Hey!” says a voice behind Caleb. He spins around, and gets sucker punched by Angel. Angel’s blow knocks Caleb all the way across the chamber.

Buffy looks up and sees Angel smiling down at her. He holds out his hand toward her. She takes it and he pulls her to her feet.

“I was never much for preachers,” says Angel.

Buffy smiles at him. “Angel.”

Angel smiles back. “You look good.”

“You look timely,” says Buffy. “And also good.”

“Heard maybe you needed a hand.” Angel starts to step toward where Caleb is climbing back to his feet. Caleb looks pissed. Buffy holds him back. Angel understands. “Ah, one of those things you have to finish yourself.”

Buffy shrugs. “Really kinda is.”

Angel slowly backs away, and goes to lean against a pillar. He watches Caleb start to come back across the chamber toward Buffy. “You are so gonna lose.”

Buffy picks up the scythe again. She twirls and swings it at Caleb’s head. He ducks under her first swing, and catches her second. He pulls the scythe out of her hands, and pushes her up against the wall.

Caleb takes aim with the stake end of the scythe, and drives it at Buffy. She twists aside at the last instant, and the stake buries itself in the wall. Caleb struggles briefly to free it, until Buffy kicks him away, and pulls it out herself.

Angel’s still leaning against the pillar. “God, I missed watching this.”

Buffy swings the scythe at Caleb’s head again, but he ducks, and punches back at her. This time Buffy ducks too, and swings the scythe into his stomach. They both freeze for a moment, and then Buffy rips the scythe across his abdomen, extending the wound.

Caleb backs away from Buffy. He starts to laugh. He raises a finger to point at her, but he staggers. He grabs one of the curtains as he falls, and rips it loose. He falls dead to the floor.

Buffy turns back to Angel. “See? Under control.”

Angel slowly walks across the chamber toward her. “Well…at least you could tell me you’re glad to see me.”

Buffy drops the scythe, and kisses him.

Spike is standing in the shadows of the temple watching Buffy and Angel kiss. The First is behind him, looking like Buffy. “That bitch,” she says.

Death Toll