All was quiet in a mist-shrouded graveyard. Suddenly, the peace was shattered as Buffy pounded a vampire, dressed like a Van Halen reject, to the ground.
"You know, it's probably none of my business but I just gotta ask..." Buffy said.
The vampire lunged at her and she backhanded it.
"You smell this bad when you were alive?"
She kicked the vampire into a headstone.
"'Cause if it's a post-mortem thing, then boy, is my face red..."
She flipped him over the headstone and whipped out a stake.
"But just so you know, the fast-growing field of personal grooming has come a long way since you became a vampire."
Buffy somersaulted over the headstone, stake raised and ready to strike. But the vampire seized her arm as she landed, span her around and plunged the stake into Buffy's abdomen. Her eyes went wide with shock and pain as she looked down at the stake protruding from her body.
Buffy gripped the shaft the stake and, with a gasp of pain, pulled it out. Her sweater was soaked with her blood.
For the first time in a long time, Buffy felt fear. She turned and fled, trying to escape the vampire. The hunter had become the hunted. Her wound slowed her, however, and she cast terrified glances over her shoulder.
Suddenly, the vampire leapt in front of her and she stopped with a gasp, looking around desperately for an escape route.
"You're going? But you were having so much fun a minute ago!" the vampire said.
Buffy brought the stake up but the creature easily knocked it from her grasp and tossed her against a nearby crypt. She doubled over in pain as the vampire picked up her stake and approached with a predatory grin.
Buffy was helpless. She realized that this is the Moment she'd been dreading but always knew would come. She was going to die.
As the vampire raised the stake for the killing blow, he was suddenly tackled to the ground by Michael. He rained blows down on the vampire and took out one of his swords but the vampire knocked it from his hand before he can use it and took off across the graveyard. Michael was about to give chase when he noticed Buffy's obvious distress and rushed to her aid.
"Buffy! What happened?" Michael asked.
She held up her bloody hands, and then collapsed in arms, unconscious.
The following day Michael applied first aid and dressing Buffy's wound.
"I can't believe I passed out. Do you think I'm a total wuss now?" Buffy asked.
"Oh, yeah. I like a girl who can play a few hard sets of tennis with a major stab wound." Michael told her.
"You said it wasn't that bad."
"I said I've seen worse. There's a difference."
"Well, at least no major organs got kebabed."
"I still think you need to see a real doctor."
"That would put me in a real hospital, which would get my real Mom real freaked out. I can't do it. Don't worry. Accelerated healing powers come with the Slayer package. And the boyfriend who comes complete with combat medical knowledge? That's just a Buffy Summers bonus."
Michael kissed her.
"So tell me about the bad guy - or guys. What do you think they were?" Michael asked.
"Vampire."
"How many?"
"One."
Michael was surprised.
"So... what? He was like a super-vampire or something?"
"No, he was the regular kind. He just beat me."
"That ever happen before?"
"I'm in the best physical shape of my life. I mean; if you're asking how it happened, I don't..."
Suddenly the door to Buffy's room flew open and Dawn ran in.
"Dawn!" Buffy said annoyed.
"Sorry to interrupt the sex-capades. I just wanted to tell you that Mom's coming." Dawn told them.
Michael hid the bandages and tape just as Joyce entered the room.
"Hi, Michael." Joyce said.
"Hey, Joyce. How're you feeling?" Michael asked.
"I'm fine, bordering on chipper and tomorrow planning on being obnoxious."
Smiling, Michael said, "Glad to hear it."
"Buffy, when you have a minute I'd like to go over the grocery list for next week."
"You got it." Buffy said.
"Are you disinfecting something?" Joyce asked noticing the bottle of pure alcohol.
"Huh? Oh, uh..." Buffy tried to think of an answer.
"I was thirsty," Michael joked.
"It's mine! Some nail polish experiments are doomed before they even begin." Dawn said.
"But you keep pushing the envelope, honey."
Joyce smiled and left, closing the bedroom door behind her.
Smiling at Buffy, Dawn said, "Did I just pull a Slayer-related Mom cover-up thing? Come on, who's the man?"
"You are." Buffy said. "A very short, annoying man."
Stung, Dawn's smile faded.
"If I show you something, you promise you won't tell?" Buffy asked Dawn.
Dawn crossed her heart and Buffy lifted her shirt to reveal the bandaged stab wound. Dawn was awed.
"Oh, cool!" Dawn said, then off Buffy's look, "I mean, gross!"
"And Mom cannot know. Okay? You'll help me with the household stuff?"
"Oh, sure. I save your butt and you dump all your chores on me." Again off Buffy's look, "I got it. You're covered. We're good. Just lucky it's not bikini season."
Buffy smiled and stroked Dawn's hair.
"So Dawn takes household duty. Kaz and I'll take tonight's patrol." Michael said.
"Just you two?" Buffy asked.
"Just us two."
"Do me a favour? Will you take the gang along with?"
"Okay. I will patrol with the group tonight."
"When do I get to patrol?" Dawn asked.
"Not until you're... never."
That evening Kaz, Michael, Willow, Xander and Anya went patrolling.
Michael and Kaz moved stealthily among the headstones, ducking from shadow to shadow. Michael paused behind a large marble slab and raised his arm; fist closed, and pumped it up and down twice before moving further into the cemetery.
Willow, Anya and Xander followed about twenty yards behind them, munching potato chips and making no effort to conceal themselves.
"What's with the hand move? Does that like mean something?" Xander asked Willow.
"It's code. I think it breaks down to 'choo-choo.' " Willow replied.
Willow mimicked pulling a train whistle.
"It means to follow them. That, or wait here for them." Anya said.
They watched Michael and Kaz's covert movements for a moment, then Willow turned to Xander.
"Ask." Willow said to Xander.
"Hey, Michael! What's the..." Xander made the hand gesture "all about?" he yelled.
"It means yell real loud so the vampires who don't know we're coming will have a sporting chance." Michael yelled back, exasperated.
"Why the Hell are we being stealthy anyway?" Kaz asked.
"They're more vulnerable than us." Michael said to Kaz.
"See, now he's all mean and sarcastic." Xander said to Willow.
"That's because you were doing all the yelling, Mr. Stealthy-Pants." Willow retorted.
"It's their fault." Anya shouted to Michael.
"Guys, I'm thinking if we split up, we could cover more ground. Tell you what? I'll take the cemeteries, you guys get the Bronze." Michael called.
"Are we not being covert enough?" Anya asked.
"We're sorry!" Xander said.
"Sorry." Willow added.
"We'll be sneakier. Promise." Said Xander.
Xander munched loudly on a handful of chips.
"Okay. Just ditch the chips and watch our backs." Michael said.
"Done." Willow said.
Willow reached into the bag and grabbed a handful of chips herself before setting the bag down. Michael and Kaz moved off into the cemetery again.
To Anya, Xander said, "You know what he's like? He's like a cat. You know, a big jungle cat. How come I'm not like that? It's just so cool."
"I think you're cool." Willow said to Xander while munching her potato chips.
In the Magic Box the reading table is piled high with books. Giles and Buffy were into some deep research.
"Here's another one. Early 18th Century Slayer." Giles announced.
Buffy closed her book with a sigh and set it on the stack.
"Good. Let's hope she'll be more helpful than this last one." Buffy said.
"Why? What does it say?" Giles asked.
"Same as all the others. Slayer called... blah, blah... great protector... blah, blah... scary battles... blah, blah... oops! She's dead. Where are the details?" Buffy asked.
"Details? Well, it says this Slayer forged her own weapons."
Giles handed the book to Buffy.
"Gotta love a gal with an anvil. But where are the details of the Slayer's last battle? You know, what made that fight special? Why did she lose?"
"You didn't lose last night, Buffy. You just..."
"Got really close. I slipped up, Giles. I've been training harder than ever and still I... And there's nothing in any of these books to help me understand why. I mean... look, I realize that every Slayer comes with an expiration mark on the package. But I want mine to be a long time from now. Like a Cheeto. If there were just a few good descriptions of what took out the other Slayers, maybe it would help me to understand my mistake, to keep it from happening again."
"Yes, well, the problem is after a final battle, it's difficult to get any... well, the Slayer's not... she's rather..."
"It's okay to use the D-word, Giles."
"Dead. And hence not very forthcoming."
"Why didn't the Watchers keep fuller accounts of it? The journals just stop."
"Well, I suppose if they're anything like me, they just find the whole subject too..."
"Unseemly? Damn. Love ya, but you Watchers are such prigs sometimes."
"Painful... I was going to say."
Buffy and Giles shared a meaningful look.
"But you're right. Accounts of the final battles would be very
helpful. But there's no one left to tell the tales."
Buffy had a sudden revelation.
"What?" Giles asked.
Buffy shoved Spike against the wall and held him there.
"Ow... Wait. Not ow. You feeling all right, Slayer? This stuff usually hurts."
Buffy span him around to face her.
"Don't even start, Spike."
