Gone

Close-up of a large plastic prop, which looks more like one of the vintage glass doorknobs from my apartment but shall henceforth be referred to as "the diamond." Warren, in his basement lair, drops the diamond into a large setting on the top of a machine in front of him. He's quietly pleased that the mechanism is done, but Andrew and Jonathan step into view to criticize the industrial design. They'd pictured something "more ILM, less Ed Wood." All in a snit, Warren grabs up the gun-shaped machine and says he'll show them "cool." He aims the gun at a nearby chair; an orangey bolt of energy shoots out, and the chair disappears. Jonathan and Andrew are mighty impressed, and Jonathan even dares to sit on the invisichair. Based on the way my cat can disappear at will, I'm thinking that she has an invisiray too. Warren says the test is only half over, changes a setting on the invisiray, and fires again. The chair reappears under Jonathan, who cowers in fear. "Oh, cheer up, Frodo," snarks Warren, explaining that the invisiray makes them "pretty much unstoppable." If a Sep snores in her apartment and no one is there to hear her, does she still make a sound? Unstoppable, eh? What is wrong with these eejits? So far we've seen the LoD summon demons, build super-efficient cyborg killing machines, control time, and make reality loop back on itself. You can bet dollars to donuts that if I had even one of those skills myself, I would rule the world, or at least my podunk home town, with a tiny iron fist.

Morning at the Summers home. Bewigged Buffy calls Dawn down for breakfast, then bitches to Willow that Dawn will be "late for school, again." She watches Willow cooking for a moment, and asks how she's doing. Willow says she's okay, but that she isn't quite ready to leave the house. Instead, she's going to continue searching for information about the stolen diamond. Dawn enters the kitchen in high teenage dudgeon and refuses breakfast. When Buffy tells her she needs to eat, Dawn replies with a very cold "Thanks for your concern." After she stomps out, Willow wonders why Dawn is taking "it" out on Buffy. "It" being her one night of slight danger with Willow and a broken arm, which doesn't really seem like all that much compared to being kidnapped and almost sacrificed by a hell god, or going out on a date with a guy who turns out to be a murdering fiend. Buffy's explanation is that Dawn is angry because Buffy "let it happen," but that just doesn't ring true to me. As I've just noted, plenty of other things have happened to Dawn, and she's not blamed Buffy for any of them. I'd venture that Dawn is upset because Buffy is distant, cold, and distracted and doesn't seem to care very much about her sister anymore, but not because she didn't somehow magically protect Dawn from Willow's jerkitude. Oh, and she's a teenager. They just get upset a lot, you know? Sometimes for no reason at all. Buffy blandly tells Willow that she (Will) was "drowning" and Buffy got too "wrapped up in her dumb life to even notice" anyone else's problems. Hmmm -- that admission would carry much more dramatic weight if SMG had shown any sort of emotion in her face and voice while making it. Instead, she delivered the lines as if she couldn't find skim milk at the grocery store.

Whatever other sorts of personal revelations Buffy might have had in store are forever unheard, however, because she's interrupted by the arrival of a blanket-clad Spike. "What are you doing? And here?" demands Buffy, and Spike nonchalantly claims that he just strolled by looking for his lighter. Buffy snips that she "hasn't seen it" and turns away to the sink. The tension in the room is a bit much for Willow, who quickly departs for her room. After she's gone, Buffy tells Spike his excuse for coming by is "lame," and then bristles when he calls her "luv." "So um, what should I call you then? Pet? Sweetheart? My little Goldilocks?" Ha! Talk about lame! What a craptacular line. Spike, who has come up with some great nicknames for the women he cares about, can only come up with "sweetheart" and "Goldilocks" for Buffy? How incredibly pedestrian of him. He fondles her hair and muses about how much he loves it. Uh huh. Like we've ever heard tell of that before. This is sub-soap-opera-grade writing. "I luv your bouncy hair, Goldilocks." Feh. Buffy reacts to the hair fondling with anger, but Spike pulls her close. Obviously overcome with lust, Buffy breathes, "Stop it." I'm so tired of her and her pathetic protests. Her "no, no, no, yes, yes, YES! No, no, no" routine is starting to make me hate her. Shit or get off the pot, weak-willed Goldilocks! Which reminds me of an idea I had for a Japanese game show after I spent the better part of an afternoon watching a tape of Japanese television programming at a friend's house. My show would be called Shit or Go Blind, and the contestants have to take a dump on command or have their eyes stabbed out with red-hot pokers. I think it'd be a big hit. Unless there's already a show like that. Wouldn't surprise me in the least. Japanese television is just odd.

So. The groin bumping is interrupted by Xander, arriving to take Dawn to school (which would make it Xander's fault that Dawn is late, correct?). He tells Spike to give up on getting together with Buffy, that "only a complete loser would hook up with [Spike]." Well, Buffy's your loser then, Xander. Bristling a tiny bit at being indirectly called names, Buffy hurries Xander out to the front hall to get Dawn. As Dawn sneers that she hopes Buffy might find time that afternoon to "get [her] into another car accident," they open the front door to find a stranger on the doorstep. She introduces herself as "Doris Kroger, from Social Services," and says she had an appointment to meet with Buffy. Buffy had forgotten, but sends Dawn off to school and asks Doris inside.

Ruh roh! Doris finds Spike lounging all snottily in the living room. He wants to know if he and Buffy are going to finish their conversation, but she tells him it's not a good time. Spike doesn't take the hint (too busy being a punk-ass loser) and continues his snotty lounging until Buffy pointedly tells him that Doris is from Social Services. He then attempts to "help" by noting that Buffy is a good mom -- so good that she disallowed Dawn from hanging out too much in his "crypt." What a dunce. Buffy then gets all frantic trying to explain that he actually said "crib." I suppose this is comedy. I'm not laughing. Buffy again tries to get Spike to leave, but Doris thinks that Spike must sleep in the house since he took his blanket when he left. A painful moment follows when Buffy lies that only she and Dawn live in the house, and then Willow calls downstairs and Buffy has to admit that Will lives there too. Then Doris assumes they're in a lesbian relationship. Oh, for god's sake -- I think Social Services allows you to have roommates, and obviously the house is large enough to have multiple bedrooms. 'Sides, if Willow's been there since last May, Social Services would already know about it. More uncovering of Buffy's unconventional parenting follows in the form of a suspicious baggie of sage; Doris says she's "seen enough." She then informs Buffy that Dawn's grades are dropping, mostly because she's frequently absent and tardy, and Social Services is not convinced that Buffy is providing a proper home. Doris wants to put Buffy on probation, meaning that if the situation doesn't improve, Buffy will be stripped of her guardianship. Maybe the monks set the bar too high with the grades they cooked up for Dawn? It's possible she's just not smart enough to live up to the promise they magicked up for her. Doris snits off, and Buffy sighs. Spike's still in the house, and he attempts to offer sympathy, but Buffy shouts at him to leave. Instead, he approaches her swiftly and digs deep into her front pants pocket. He pulls out his lighter (I thought that went into the box?) and finally leaves with "So long, Goldilocks." Buffy sulks a little and then rushes into her room. She looks into the mirror, then grabs a pair of scissors and begins to chop off hanks of her hair. And this is why I hide all of my scissors. It's prevention rather than disorganization. Oh, wait. I get my hair cut to look like a rat's nest on purpose.

Later, Buffy has booked an emergency appointment at a Sunnydale hair salon. She baby-talks a request that the stylist make her "different." Oh, honey, I've tried that approach and it never works. You have to change a lot more than your hair to be different.

Warren, Andrew, and Jonathan are nearby, preparing to invisiray themselves and then watch some bikini waxes at women's spa. I'm a bit confused as to why they aren't already invisible already, though, since rendering yourself invisible on a busy street, and right outside the business you're about to enter, seems quite stupid. But I'm even more confused as to why they would want to watch women getting their bikini lines waxed. I guess it takes all kinds. The stooges panic when they see Buffy exit the salon across the street, and Andrew and Jonathan start a tussle over the invisiray. Warren joins in the struggle, and the ray shoots a stray bolt across the street, zapping the unaware Buffy as well as a nearby dumpster and a few other objects but miraculously not making parts of the sidewalk invisible. And this is why shows like Buffy should stick to magic instead of science. If I can explain it away with "well, that's just magic," I'm fine. But this pseudo-science is going to have me up all night with all sorts of niggling questions about the nature of invisibility.