Previously on Buffy: Spike told Buffy that she came back from the dead "wrong." Tara and Willow argued about Willow's magic use. Tara left Willow. As a strange sort of rebound maneuver, Willow changed Amy the Rat into Amy the Girl, and they did naughty magic together. But not the euphemistic type Willow and Tara used to practice. The Crime Geeks stole a diamond. Spike and Buffy banged away at each other. Take that as you will.
Summers home. It's morning, and the TV plays as Dawn and Tara sleep on the couch. Tara wakes first and looks disoriented. Dawn then wakes, and they confirm that it's almost 7 AM. Dawn mumbles about the wedgie she got from sleeping on the couch as Tara finally realizes that no one ever came home and woke them up. Upstairs, they open the door to Buffy's room and find it empty. Looking worried, Dawn leads the way to Willow's room -- also empty. Tara tries to assure Dawn that Willow and Buffy are fine. Funny, I'd be a little more worried if I were one of the few Sunnydale residents that actually knew what was going on. "Oh hey, Buffy's the Slayer and she's already died once this year and Willow's really been freakin' out with the whole magic thing, but I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason neither of them came home last night." Yeah -- 'cause they're dead!
Not really, but I'm the anxious type. Actually, we're now at The Shattered Shack O' Shagging. Rubble, rubble, bare feet and legs, rubble. Buffy suddenly wakes and sits straight up, Spike's bare chest in the background. She gasps in panic and looks at her surroundings in disbelief. Spike stirs; Buffy, grabbing her skirt to her chest, hops up and demands, "When did the building fall down?" Spike, his face bruised and his chest scratched, ventures it must have been "some time between the first time and the..." He trails off with a laugh. Buffy looks queasy and groans, "Oh my God!"
Buffy scrabbles about in the rubble, looking for her other shoe. Oh man, her face is bruised and battered too. Still sprawled out naked, Spike languorously asks why she's in such a hurry. Buffy snaps that she left Dawn all night, and boy, ain't it real charitable-like for her to remember she has a little sister at home? Spike wriggles in a pleased manner and attempts to remind Buffy of the events of the night before. "Can we not? Talk?" grumps Buffy, and at least she's consistent about not wanting to hear anything that comes out of his mouth. Spike wants a rematch (I personally think that sex on a pile of concrete and broken wood would get old fast, but then, I'm not undead), but Buffy is emphatic that the night before was "the end of this freak show." As she wanders close to him, looking for more clothes, Spike grabs her and pulls her into his lap. She resists; he wants more sex. He sticks his hand up under her skirt and lets his fingers do the walkin'. Buffy struggles to get away and then they end up kissing. Kiss, kiss. Buffy's voice says, "No, no," but somehow her lips say, "Yes! Yes!" She ends up with Spike lying on top of her. Artful blocking of any of his naughty bits by the flaps of her leather skirt, by the way. Kissing and then Spike says, "I knew the only thing better than killing a Slayer would be f..." He's interrupted by Buffy's gasp of disgust and her shoving him off as she leaps to her feet. If you slo-mo this scene you can see James Marsters's saggy white pouch. If you know what I mean. You don't? Well, he's wearing some sort of diaper-y modesty belt. Kinda takes some of the sexiness right out of his nudity, knowing that.
Buffy's all outraged to think Spike might be sleeping with her just to rack up the street cred of having done a Slayer, but I'm thinking she's really missing the salient point, which is just how repellent she should find pillow talk about how fun it was for him to KILL women like her. And what's up with Spike's need to sabotage moments where he and Buffy are getting along? Spike accuses her of being a vampire "groupie," and Buffy cuts him to the quick, saying that she was only ever attracted to Angel and Spike's just "convenient." Finally disrupted from his post-coital jocularity, Spike says their night in The Shattered Shack O' Shagging has changed things for him; he's tired of being her "whipping boy." I'm running out of new ways to describe the dynamic between these two. Buffy is disgusted, Spike is cocky. Nice to see that Buffy now has no more dignity than Spike's last lay, Harmony, the wench that was played for comedic effect. Actually, in "Pangs," Harmony was a bit more successful at making her point than Buffy is here. She tries to leave, and he restrains her by throwing his arms around her neck. Obviously, Buffy can defend herself and doesn't have to stand there when he stops her, but I still can't help but be disturbed by the way this plays out. I personally don't find the annoying, physically forceful cretin of the bodice-ripper romances to be a romantic ideal, and I can't believe that what used to be my favorite show is forcing me to sit through a scene implying that our heroine is a little lady who just needs to be held down and forced into "letting down her barriers." It's not that I have anything against passionate, powerful sex, but I'm only comfortable if there's an element of play, or a mutual agreement as to the terms. Rant over. For now. Buffy threatens to kill Spike if he tells anyone about their shared game of hide-the-weenie. His reaction is to pull her tiny pink thong panties out of his pocket and suggest, "You're gonna want these too." Buffy drops him with a punch to the nose. Still stealin' the panties, I see.
Summers home. Tara, the only responsible person left in Sunnydale, is making pancakes for Dawn's breakfast. Dawn frets about Buffy and Willow being "in a ditch somewhere," and Tara again tries to allay Dawn's anxiety. She pauses as she hears voices outside the kitchen door. Willow walks in with Amy and boom! There's great awkwardness in the kitchen, as Willow is shocked to see Tara and Tara assumes that Willow's bringing home some new girl she pulled after a night out. Willow introduces Amy to Tara, and Tara is attempting to make a (stuttering) exit when Willow clarifies, "Amy. Amy the Rat?" Amy starts babbling about how much has changed during her ratly years, and then Tara's face turns to stone as Amy continues, "[Willow's] a freakin' amazing witch now. I couldn't even keep up with her last night." Willow tries to hush Amy, but she doesn't get the hint and proceeds to give more details, including a quaint little story about Willow making someone's mouth disappear. Tara is obviously heartbroken (again) and hurries out, despite Willow's attempts to engage her in a conversation about stuff she left behind.
As Tara leaves, sad-sack Buffy drags her sorry ass into the kitchen. She attempts to tell Dawn she's fine, and then excuses her condition by saying she had an all-night fight. She also assures everyone that they're safe from whatever big bad she was supposedly fighting. Buffy then attempts to change the subject by asking about Tara's presence. Ah, yeah. She was watching your sister, Buffy. The one you neglected in favor of a room-temperature booty call. Willow has to explain that she too failed to come home last night, although in my opinion that's her business. Buffy is the only one in the house with an obligation to watch over Dawn and keep her apprised of her whereabouts. Buffy asks Dawn if she's okay a few times and makes a really lame apology ("I'm sorry about everything." I'll bet you are, Buffy). Amy leaves to go to her dad's house, and Buffy and Willow take their pathetic selves upstairs to sleep. Dawn's doing her best to be cheerful and accommodating, but looks sad. I've seen neglected puppies that get more attention than Dawn. Maybe Buffy should return Dawn to the pound if she can't be bothered to care for her anymore.
Upstairs, Willow lies down on her bed, still wearing her shoes, jewelry, and leather coat, which seems strange. I've been dead beat before but never too much to at least shuck my coat and shoes. She attempts to use magic to close the curtains, but can't get the spell to work. After a few attempts, she has to actually walk the five feet and close the curtains herself. Poor, poor Willow, Not. As she lies back down, she looks worried.
Der Zauber Kasten. Xander, Anya, and Buffy are still researching the freeze ray incident. But I think they have a much bigger problem on their hands, as Anya's obviously been struck by a nefarious hair-frosting demon! Since last episode, her hair has turned from its usual honey-blonde color to a pus-yellow, marcelled mess with dark, dark roots. The effect isn't improved by the black blouse with turquoise polka dots she's wearing, which just clashes with her hair. Somebody look up a reverse spell and help her! When I'm done washing my eyes out with saline to mitigate the effects of seeing Anya's hair, I return to the TV to find some wacky wedding hijinks I'm not even going to discuss, except for the fact that Xander brings up Martha Stewart and Anya confirms that Martha's a witch. Which makes our girl Sep scarily prescient after her riff in last week's recap. No mention of Martha's henchvamps, though. Buffy calls the bickering couple back on task, but reacts badly to Xander's suggestion that they involve Spike in the search for the freeze demon. That idea shot down, Anya suggests that Willow help, but Buffy explains that Willow is still home sleeping. Anya and Xander roll their eyes at the news of Willow's all-nighter with Amy; Xander is critical of the fact that Willow made herself "a playmate to do magic with. Someone who won't monitor her like Tara." And then we swiftly move into the portion of the conversation wherein (1) more anvilly parallels are drawn between Buffy and Willow's situation, and (2) Buffy makes a conversation about her in-trouble friend all about her and her secret nookie. Buffy sure has a fixation with keeping her vampire boyfriends secret, doesn't she? I think not feeling comfortable telling your friends who you're sleeping with is a clear indicator that you need to step back and take another look at what (or who) you're doing. So, to sum up Buffy's defense: Willow is "going through something," "has reasons for acting this way," and is an adult who doesn't need her actions monitored. "Who are we to be all judgey?" ends Buffy's all-about-me rant. Xanya explain that they were merely making observations. Which is fine, because I think it's normal for people to worry about their friends and discuss them when they're not there, but then they need to go to those friends and talk to them directly.
Nighttime. Amy and Willow are walking past the Espresso Pump. Hey, I was just wondering what happened to that place. We don't see very many scenes set there anymore. Party gal Amy is up for magic hijinks, but Willow complains of the aftereffects of last night's binge, including the loss of her powers for most of the day. Willow wants to take it easy, but suddenly Amy's all pusher-man and tells Willow she knows a guy: "He knows spells that last for days and the burnout factor is, like, nothing." What? You know a guy, Amy? You've been a damn rat for three years. You think any contacts you made in high school would still be around? Plus, what sort of ret-con is this on Amy? Sure, she dabbled in high school and didn't seem much worried by ethical use of magic, but she didn't seem into anything very extreme. And extreme seems to be the only thing offered by "the guy" she takes Willow to. Seventeen minutes into this episode, and everything goes to complete and utter crap. So, Amy's improbable magical contact will take them to "places [they] can't even imagine." Which has never, ever been any sort of focus of spell-casting that I can recall on this show. So far, Willow's magic addiction has been more about abuse of power and feeling above the rules than on trippy mind-blowing escapism. Willow wants to know if it's dangerous, and Amy counters, "Would that stop you?"
They head into one of Sunnydale's many alleys, where Amy senses "this is it." She demonstrates to Willow that the air is hot, and then walks towards what looks like empty alley. Instead, she vanishes into a squiggly special effect. Willow follows, arm outstretched. She emerges into what looks like the really sad, seedy lobby of a dingy hotel. ["It looked to me like a repainted version of Doc's lair from 'Forever.'" -- Sars] There's no metaphor here anymore -- the place is a flophouse, pure and simple. And God knows why a mysterious magic dealer couldn't spiff the place up a little more. The aura of junkie-retro about the place might amuse some rich, spoiled Sunnydale kids who crave a walk on the wild side, but that's hardly Willow's situation after all she's seen. Amy explains that the place belongs to Rack; it's cloaked and moves around town. An interior door opens, and Rack strides out. He's all stringy haired and wall-eyed and makes a bee-line for Willow and Amy as some of the other little hangers-on in the place bicker about who gets their fix . Right about now I hear a loud whistling, and as Rack decides to play with Amy and Willow, a huge anvil slams through my roof, narrowly missing my cat as it slams to the floor.
As the cat glares reproachfully at me from under an armchair, I become blinded by a neon sign on the anvil that screams, "Check it out!! It's like a drug metaphor with Willow!! Ain't it seedy??!!" I try a little yoga breathing to slow my pulse and then drag the TV to a safer location. I finally coax the cat out with an offer of tuna juice. She's all about the tuna juice. Rack derisively says to Amy, "You were a rat!" He laughs that he hopes she learned her lesson about using spells that were too difficult for her. Nope, Rack, she hasn't learned a thing. As he rubs his hands together, they begin to crackle with red electricity. He approaches Willow, saying, "This one's giving off vibes." He can sense power coming off her, but Willow seems very nervous about the situation. She's not sure what she's there for, so Rack tells her, "Amy said I could help you. But did Amy say how you could help me?" Well, no, she didn't actually. And not to spoil it for anyone, but neither does anyone else in the entire episode. Exactly what Rack gets out of the deal is never explained, or even mentioned again. Willow offers money or computer help in exchange for the goods, man, but Rack isn't interested. Instead, he lays his hand on Willow's chest. His hand begins to glow red, and both Rack and Willow seem transported. I don't want to pussyfoot around -- they're making sex faces. Rack begins to breathe hard and then pulls his hand away from Willow, who stands looking all doped up with her eyes shut and her jaw slack. Rack puts his lips real close to Willow's ear and whispers, "You taste like strawberries." ["Hey, Ace. I don't know if you know this, but a 'strawberry' is essentially a crack whore. A neighborhood girl that exchanges sex for the rock. Straight from N.W.A. to you, 'Strawberry, strawberry is the neighborhood ho.' The song is 'Dopeman,' from their seminal album Straight Outta Compton." -- Sep] ["Wow. I totally did not know that. I spent the '80s listening exclusively to broody British music and '60s garage rock." -- Ace] Rack is creepy. Then about ten more anvils crash into my room, followed by a minor deluge of cow pies as we launch into a trippy-druggy sequence the likes of which has not been seen since The Trip and Psych-Out.
Trancy music plays as Amy spins and spins in the center of the room. Rack lounges on the couch, holding a tiny glass globe in which a tiny Amy spins and spins. I jump up to excavate the poor, shivering cat from under a pile of cow dung. When I come back, Amy's spinning arms are leaving trails. Trails, people. Sheesh. Willow's (and Amy's) magic addiction is no longer like a drug addiction -- it is a drug addiction. The magic makes them high. Therefore, the magic is a drug. Therefore, there is no metaphor. Which I find extremely painful. I mean, first Willow's problem with magic was like an addiction. I actually found it more useful to think of it as an eating disorder -- anorexia or bulimia -- because those addictions are often about control. Addiction to narcotics seems more like they're about losing control. Anyway, so we're going along fine with Willow abusing her power and needing to control the emotions of those around her, which was interesting. Then, in the course of this episode, we've had a specific addiction (drugs) pinned to Willow behavior, and then we've had the metaphor stripped away completely, as well as any remnant of Willow abusing power. Now she's not an abuser; she a victim of a nasty dealer-man. I was very disappointed by all of Season Five, but I still never thought I'd see a Buffy episode as ham-fisted as this one. Some people have speculated that we'll return to dealing with Willow's control-freak issues later in the season, and I certainly hope so, because seeing her end up in Spells Anonymous holds no interest for me.
Anyway, Rack looks up, and we see that Willow is pinned to the ceiling. She writhes slowly, ecstatically. When she open her eyes, the floor of the room becomes a writhing green jungle. In the jungle, we see a flash of a creature and then a naked girl's body is dragged under a bush. ["I don't see why anyone would get off on being stuck in one of those lame Magic Eye 3D pictures." -- Sep] Suddenly an awful monster roars out at Willow and she drops from the ceiling onto her face. She lies unconscious for a time and then suddenly, eyes huge and black, she's magically zipped from Rack's place to the Bronze, to outside the magic shop, to the floor of her room at the Summers home. Actually, I didn't know it was her room at first and thought, "What the hell is Willow doing in a room furnished in high Victorian by spacey '60s hippies?" I mean, there's pampas fronds, a bamboo ottoman, and a mirrored wardrobe! But her bedroom it is. Anyway, it's the morning. Which I want y'all to note, because it becomes important later on my list of why this episode sucks ass.
Willow is in the shower. She holds her head under the water and begins to sob. I'm not touched in the least. Cut to Willow, clad in a bathrobe, coming back into her bedroom; she spots a cardboard box in the corner, labeled "TARA" in large Sharpie letters. What, she has a bunch of boxes of other ex-girlfriends' clothes lying around and she was afraid she's get confused? Thank you, Mutant Enemy, for not thinking we'd be smart enough to remember the box Willow mentioned earlier. Willow pulls some clothes out of the box and lays them out on the bed. Which reminds me of that Seinfeld episode where Jerry tries the dirty talk ("The panties that your mother laid out for you?") and also this children's book I used to have called Cat in the Mirror. I loved it because it had three of my favorite things: cats, magic, and Egyptians. It also had this sequence that's stuck with me for years. The heroine is an unpopular girl (probably another reason I liked it) and she's trying to fit in with some classmates, and she mentions how in Europe they lay out your nightgown in the hotel and pinch the waist. It's just the right sort of awful awkward thing to say that will make your peers hate you, and the merciless teasing that she receives always struck a chord with me. Anyway, Willow sits to the blouse and skirt on the bed and then waves her hand over them. They begin to puff up and wiggle, and I'm totally, totally worried that she's making some sort of zombie Tara. Instead, the clothes sit up, with no one at all inside, and Willow lays her head in the laundry's lap. Bizarre. Is that like a witchy blow-up doll?
That night, Willow enters the kitchen, where Dawn is cooking "peanut butter and banana" quesadillas. Is it really a quesadilla if there's no cheese? I think not. It's more of a platano-cacahuete-dilla. Or, in English, "tortilla with inappropriate goo." Willow chooses not to partake because her stomach's upset. She looks pretty peaked overall. Dawn mentions that Buffy has called her a bunch of times today about her plans, and Willow apologizes for not being home the night Tara had to stay with Dawn. Eventually, Willow offers to take Dawn to dinner and a movie. Dawn is pathetically grateful (as neglected puppies are when they finally get to go for a walk) and off they go, leaving a note for Buffy on the fridge.
You know what this episode needs? More fighting. Because fighting makes for quick and easy recapping.
Buffy comes home from patrolling and hears a thump upstairs. When she goes to investigate, she finds Willow's room ransacked and then catches Amy trying to sneak out the door. Buffy grabs her and demands an explanation. Stuttering from Amy. Buffy pulls a bundle out of Amy's hands and sniffs it. "It's not what you think it is! It's sage," yelps Amy. "That is what I think it is," replies Buffy, tossing the savory herb aside. Buffy wants to know where Dawn is, but gets no answer from the addled Amy. Amy does admit that she broke into the house, however. Buffy pulls a few more packets out of Amy's pockets, over Amy's protests that she "needs" the things she's taken. What? What the hell is going on here? Could this plot line get any more muddled? We've moved from the addiction metaphor with Willow's power abuse right to an out-and-out addiction story, which of course necessitates a "junkie friend breaks into your house" scene despite how little sense it makes. We saw that Rack doesn't require payment, so it's not like he sent Amy out for some really sweet marjoram. She obviously can't sniff a little fenugreek and achieve the same effect as seeing Rack so, really, what the hell is she doing stealing spices from Willow? Plus, her dad doesn't cook? She can't stop by the freaking store? Seems easier than breaking and entering. I'm so disgusted by this scene that I brace myself for more shit or anvils, but instead I'm shocked to find Marti Noxon sitting to me on the couch. I'm about to say hi when she whips out a baseball bat labeled "DRUG ADDICTION METAPHOR" and begins to beat me about the head with it. Ouch! Marti! Cut it out! I eventually distract her by throwing issues of the Buffy magazine featuring Marc Blucas at her. As Marti checks out Marc and giggles, I glance back at the TV in time to see Amy finally admit that Willow is at Rack's place. She asks Buffy not to slam her around anymore, as she's about to "boot." That's a new phrase for me, and the only redeeming feature of this scene. ["We used to say 'I'm gonna boot' (and its lesser-used variant, 'boot and rally') in college all the time. I haven't heard it in years, though, and hearing it here made the episode seem, if possible, even more out of step." -- Sars] Amy tells Buffy she has to sense out Rack's place, and then goes to empty her boot. At least we were spared a scene of Amy shakily pointing a gun at Buffy and screaming, "Where's the coriander, bitch?"
Willow and Dawn are reviewing dinner, which Dawn ate and Willow didn't. Then they discuss Dawn's visit with Tara; Dawn says Tara was sad, and Willow is disappointed to hear that Tara didn't mention anything about her. Eventually, Dawn realizes that they aren't really on their way to the movies, and Willow admits that she has to make "one quick stop first."
They appear in Rack's junkie lounge for junkies, which Willow describes as "cool." One day on narcotics and she's already going blind. The cloaking spell may be cool, but the environment? Surely not. Assuring Dawn that she'll only be a minute, Willow heads into the back room, leaving Dawn wondering if they'll make the nine o'clock movie.
The clock reads 10:05. I can't believe Dawn has been sitting patiently for over an hour! I had to wait fifteen minutes at the hairdresser this weekend and really considered just leaving. A stinky junkie sits down to Dawn, so she hops up and paces. In Rack's room, Rack asks "Strawberry" if she can "handle some more." He sends a bolt of red energy at Willow, who is hovering near the ceiling looking blissed out. We see her floating in deep space, fingers trailing out to touch the stars. Then there's a shaft of red light; out of it walks the monster from the last magic session, this time with a limp female in his arms. Willow screams, which Rack seems to find amusing.
Spike's all gently sleeping in his lair when a large...object...plops onto his chest and wakes him up. I really thought it was a loofah, but I guess it was a candle, as we quickly cut to Buffy, who's holding another one in her hand. She bitches about Spike sleeping like the, um, dead. He makes a little tongue-wiggling face and says, "Had a long night." Which he did, two nights ago. Crappy writing. But shhhhhh...be very, very quiet, as I've managed to distract Marti even further with my Spike action figure. She's trying to figure out how to get its clothes off and hasn't noticed that I hid her bat. Camera pulls out, and we get a full shot of naked Spike semi-profile. Buffy tosses him his pants and tells him Dawn's missing. "Again? Ever think about a LoJack for that girl?" grumps Spike. I'm thinking more "shackles in the basement and no parole until she has a decent plot," but that's just me. In the ensuing conversation, Buffy tells him that Dawn is with Willow; Spike thinks that's a weak excuse for coming by; Buffy clarifies that Willow is into something bad. Spike recognizes Rack as someone who "deals in magic. Black stuff. Dangerous." Apparently, Buffy couldn't find Rack's hangout because she's not a witch or a vampire. I guess coming back "wrong" from the dead doesn't make one the kind of high-class customer Rack is looking for. Buffy turns her back when Spike stands to dress and gets teased for it, of course.
Back at Rack's, Dawn is still waiting. It's almost eleven, so she finally flounces up to the door Willow disappeared through. As she goes to open it, Willow wanders out, high as a cat on the 'nip. I'm worried here -- Marti's presence seems to have stopped the falling anvils, but she's finished with the Spike toy and is rooting around for her baseball bat again. I hid it under a pile of feminist literature, though. I don't think she'll look there. Willow's solid black eyes freak Dawn out, but not as much as they should, I don't think. They leave Rack's place. As they wander down an alley, Willow has an inappropriately jocular reaction to Dawn's anger and mocks her for just wanting to go home. She assures Dawn that everything is fine. But it's not, because the demon from Willow's bad trips is stalking the alley behind them. OUCH! Dammit, Marti found her bat and she's smacking me around again. My arms are covering my face, but I manage to notice that the bat now reads, "WILLOW'S METAPHORICAL DEMON HAS BECOME A REAL DEMON!" Good God, Marti, lay off! But you know what I think would have made this episode better? If they'd gone with the phrase "monkey on your back," and made Willow's demon a monkey. A monkey chasing Willow and Dawn down the alley would be a laugh riot. Monkeys are never not funny.
Spike and Buffy bicker. Oh, ew -- Spike's wearing his pimp-daddy chain again. Wish he'd cut that out. Buffy accuses Spike of "drawing out" the search to spend time with her, but he scoffs, telling her things have changed since they had sex. "Last night was the most perverse, degrading experience of my life," insists Buffy. Yeah, but you like it like that, don't you? Plus, IT WASN'T LAST NIGHT!! It was the night before. Jesus God, who's steering the good ship Buffy these days? Did anyone read this script over as a whole, or was it written by a committee of people all locked in separate dungeons? All in all, however, this is the most productive conversation Buffy and Spike have had so far, mostly because Buffy isn't stomping off in disgust. Spike's all, "Your calling is dark, yadda," and then soulfully admits that she's had him "by the short hairs" because of his love for her. However, he knows she "felt something" during their night together, so now he feels more like his old self. His old "Dru's bitch" self, would that be? Who's he kidding? With his unerring sense for ruining the moment with Buffy, he tells her, "The time you come calling, if you don't stop being such a bitch, maybe I will bite you." Ha! I'd like to see him try. Buffy's always been able to kick his ass. Right now, though, she just settles for whining that she wants him out of her life. Spike tells her she needs him, plus is she willing to risk not finding Dawn just to "spite" him?
Dawn. Alley. Nervous. Willow stoned. Willow stoned means Willow walking all floppy and sticking out her lips. Like Sep said, don't be doing the magic if it makes you look like a dumb-ass. Dawn hears growling and starts to hurry off. She runs right into Willow's demon, but Willow assures her, "It's okay. He's not real!" I wish my having to recap the rest of this episode weren't real. Willow's demon says she summoned him, raised him with her magic, and I'm wondering if her magic can get him the cosmetic dentistry he so badly needs. The demon slashes Dawn across the face (maybe Willow could conjure up a manicure for him as well?). Willow and Dawn run like hell. They come across a car, and Willow commands, "Open!" The doors open. Once she and Dawn are inside, she shouts, "Close!" She used magic to close the car doors. Damn, Willow, what do you do in the bathroom, girl? "Wipe! Flush!" Willow uses magic to drive the car, and the encounter with the demon hasn't sobered her up much. She giggles as the car screeches all over the road and yeah, it's all fun and games until somebody gets hurt. Or as my family is fond of saying, "This will end in tears." Which it what happens when the car slams right into a brick wall. Okay, since I didn't hear Willow do any "Seatbelt!" spell, I'm going to assume that neither one of them were wearing seatbelts, and I find it hard to believe that both of them wouldn't have gone straight through the windshield and done a face-plant right onto that wall.
Wondering what happened to Marti? I faked a phone call from Joss, and told her they needed her on the set to deal with a desperate situation. Yep, informed her that Marsters got a dark tan over the weekend and his current shirtless scene isn't shooting well. She was outta here so fast she left skid marks.
Dawn climbs out of the wrecked car, holding her left arm. She goes to check on Willow, but is jumped by the demon. Growl, growl, fight, fight. Dawn attempts to scramble under the car. Nearby, Spike and Buffy hear her screams. More fighting between Dawn and the demon. He corners her, but Buffy is finally on the scene. Buffy and the demon fight; Spike rushes to Dawn's side. As Buffy and the demon face off, it suddenly begins to shake violently, emit billows of smoke, and then burst into flames. It's a really cool effect, because the eyes begin to burn first and brightest, and as the whole body collapses into a shower of sparks, you can still see the falling, flaming eyes.
Willow stumbles onto the scene right after the demon disperses. Her eyes are all black and her hands are crackling with red energy. I'm not sure what went down there, really. Maybe she zapped it dead, or maybe it vanished for some other reason. Buffy glares at Willow because she's all pissed that Willow would take her sister nasty places, and of course Buffy didn't at all leave her sister completely unsupervised in this very episode just to get laid, so I guess it's okay that she's all righteously angry about poor child care choices. After glaring some, Buffy goes to Dawn and decides to take her to a doctor. Willow rushes around fretting about Dawn's injury and apologizing, but Buffy isn't having it. She tells Willow to stay away from her sister. Willow ignores her and starts babbling apologies at Dawn, who slaps her with her good arm. Buffy and Spike escort Dawn away, leaving Willow behind them, sobbing that she's sorry. She even falls to the ground in a big fit of melodrama. Huh. I don't buy it. I think Willow's right at the stage where she's apologizing but also trying to make it everybody else's fault. "There was a demon! I told her to wear her seatbelt! I got some bad acid! The car had faulty steering!" Whatever. Buffy and Spike pause, and then Spike continues to escort Dawn as Buffy turns back for Willow. "Get up," she snarls. Willow would prefer to wallow, however, sobbing that she "screwed it up," including things with Tara. Buffy's like, yup, you did, and hauls Willow to her feet. Willow says she can't stop. Here's what gets me about that -- she didn't even TRY to stop. Have we even seen Willow try? No. Never. Feh. I don't want to be all Oldy McInspirational, but "how do you know you can't if you don't try?" Buffy says Willow can stop, and then Willow utters the most absolute crap line of a crap episode: "God, I need help!" Sigh. I'm too tired to even bitch. Thank goodness those last three anvils missed me, because I'm too exhausted to duck. "Help me please," Willow sobs, falling into Buffy's arms. Buffy hugs her, but her face looks cold.
Later, Willow is sitting on her bed, wrapped in a blanket. Buffy comes in and explains that Dawn's arm is fractured and will take some time to heal. Crash! Smash! Plop, plop, plop! Do you get it? Things amongst the friends are "fractured" and will "take time to heal." Apologies from Willow. Buffy, arms crossed, says she can't understand what Willow is doing and why she took Dawn. Quietly, Willow admits that she thought she controlled the magic, but instead the magic controlled her. Because that's not at all a painful cliché. Her problem began before Tara left, and she realizes it's why Tara left. "If you could be plain old Willow, or super Willow, who would you be?" says Willow, and Buffy replies, "You don't need magic to be special." Okay, this insecurity is a little more touching and more in keeping with Willow's basic character, but she did help before with her hacker skills and, like Xander, with her love, loyalty, bravery, and dedication to the good fight. Willow claims that without the magic, she was just "some girl" that Tara didn't even know. That's a nice point, too. Willow's incredibly deep insecurity leads her to believe that her witchiness, rather than her Willowness, was what Tara loved. Buffy assures Willow that Tara loves her, and I wish she'd toss in that she loves Willow too, because I miss the way they used to tell each other that, but I guess you can't go home again. The script missteps again when Willow says, "It took me away from myself," which sounds like escapism. I buy the magic making her feel special and that being compelling to her, but not that Willow needs escapism. Buffy says she understands the need to escape, but "it's wrong. People get hurt." She sits on the bed with Willow, who says she was out of her mind. "It won't happen again, I promise," she continues, and Buffy agrees, "I think it's right. To give it up. No matter how good it feels." Or how cute, muscular, blond, and hung it is. Oops. Willow says she won't miss the headaches, nosebleeds, or "keeping stinky yak cheese in [her] bra." My grandma used to keep money in her bra, or as she called it, her "budge." "Don't ask." Buffy is happy not to. They both say, "It's over." Later, we see Willow tossing and turning in bed, seemingly going through symptoms of physical withdrawal. Buffy sits wide awake in her room. Strings of garlic festoon every window and she holds a cross in her hands.