We begin with the title of this episode, "Conversations With Dead People," and then the date and time flashing across the screen. I'll bet Buffy wishes she could time-shift instead of having to stand stock-still and wait for three minutes of commercials to go by. I know you're a Slayer and probably don't have too much time left on this earth, Buffy, but isn't that all the more reason to have a TiVo? Isn't the time you do have too valuable to sit through endless advertising jingles? Onstage at the Bronze, a band preps for their set, and as Angie Hart, former lead singer of Frente, begins to sing, we segue into a musical montage. I like it when there's a lot of music and lyrics. I don't feel the need to recap them. Hell, I can't even hear most of them, not having bat ears. Buffy walks through a graveyard as "night falls." A pensive Spike sits at the bar, a bottle of hard liquor at his side. UCS library. A sleepy Willow dozes to a pile of books. Dawn returns to a darkened house and then just throws her jacket off to one side. Hang up! Your! Jacket! Dawn! No wonder I don't like you. She goes into the kitchen to find a note saying that everyone will be home late, and Dawn should take the attached money and get dinner from the store. Under no circumstances is she to get pizza. Back at the graveyard, Buffy kneels down in front of a fresh grave and waits until a hand bursts out of the ground. "Here we go," she says resignedly.
We return from commercials to see an El Camino cruising down the street, driven by none other than Jonathan. The rear windshield is all decked out in "Mexican" decorations. Yeah, that's in quotes for a reason. Andrew, in the passenger seat, whines that Jonathan is spending too much time circling and he should just get on with the plan. Jonathan wants to keep it "low pro," because the last time they showed their faces in Sunnydale, thirty-three and a third percent of the Legion of Dim got skinned. Andrew is all, "We've got a plan. We're gonna fix all that." Jonathan thinks that they should have stayed in Mexico, but Andrew was having trouble with the language (apparently, Klingon has a much clearer system of transitive and intransitive verbs), and, y'know, the nightmares. It seems that the remaining Duo of Dim has also been plagued by the very same bad dreams that have been menacing Buffy. But what self-respecting force of evil would waste its time with these two losers?
Back at the graveyard, Buffy exchanges blows with the newly-risen vamp. I think she's wearing the bangs from Anya's "Two to Go"/"Grave" wig.
At home, Dawn chows on a piece of forbidden pizza (the tastiest kind) and, with her mouth full, sings a charming little song that goes, "Anchovies! Anchovies! You're so delicious. I like you better than all the other fishes!" Okay. Dawn can stay a little longer. She then engages in more typical unsupervised teen behavior, raiding Buffy's closet and accidentally spilling pizza sauce on a blouse. Dawn is momentarily worried, but then shrugs as she realizes that Buffy'll probably just think it's a bloodstain. Heh. Then it's time to play with all the weapons. Dawn fires a crossbow bolt into the wall, cringing as it takes out a chunk of said wall when she attempts to remove it. Ever solution-oriented, Dawn drags a large ficus over to hide the damage. Later, Dawn strolls into the kitchen, where the radio is tuned to The Salsa Station Of Hidden Pain that Buffy was listening to in one of those ultra-boring fifth-season episodes that I'm still repressing, but Dawn dances over to the cupboard to grab some marshmallows for some microwaving fun. I think I've probably told this story in a recap before, but I figure that if I can recycle my Anya/Bunnicula joke once per season, this one is fair game too. So. My roommate brought home a big pile of Marshmallow Peeps from a post-Easter sale. I took one look at them and screeched, "Peeps show!" before grabbing one, winging it into the microwave, and making "Bamp-chicka-bow-wow" noises while watching the Peep swell and undulate in the microwave. Try it. It's fun. Also, I have in my notes from the first airing of this episode, "Dawn no like monkey-brain marshmallows." I think I'll just leave that in. You'll either find it as amusing as I do or marvel at my illiteracy. Dawn's still enjoying herself when a large BANG resonates through the house. Dawn looks around in fear.
Cut to the library, where Willow is still studying. "So. This is the UC library, huh?" says a voice from off-screen, breaking her reverie. Willow looks over to see Cassie, the suicidal teen from "Help." Except, as we all know, it's not really Cassie; it's just Cassie Ghost, on a special, if rather wordy, mission of evil. I'd like to make a Cassie Ghost Coast To Coast joke here but I can't actually remember anything about Space Ghost's talk show. This is why you shouldn't do drugs, kids! You'll be robbed of your ability crack wise about animated talk shows. Willow immediately recognizes Cassie Ghost and is confused, what with Cassie dying a few episodes and all. Man. You'd think that after seven seasons in Sunnydale, Willow would be a little less wigged when the dead walk among us. Willow is wondering if perhaps she's just dreaming, but Cassie Ghost assures Willow that she's really there. She takes a seat across from Willow and explains, "She asked that I come talk to you. It's important." Willow is all, "'She'?" "She says she still sings," is Cassie's reply. Willow starts to grok who "she" is, and her eyes fill with tears. "Tara?" she warbles.
Back at Casa Summers. Dawn is plopped down in front of the TV, eating her nuked marshmallow and talking on the phone with Kit. The ominous banging sounds again, and Dawn practically drops the phone. She mutes the TV and goes to the front door, but before she gets there, it blows open, and she struggles to close it again. As she finally gets it closed, the TV un-mutes itself, which everyone who has ever seen a horror movie knows is a sign that some terrible, awful thing is about to happen. ["Or that you have Time-Warner cable 'service.' Sigh." -- Sars] Dawn goes over and fiddles with the controls, to no avail. She pulls the plug and holds it aloft, but it doesn't make the slightest bit of difference; the TV continues playing.
Graveyard. Buffy and vamp fight. He goes in for a taste, then stops and says, "Buffy? Buffy Summers?" He introduces himself as "Holden Webster" and reminds Buffy that he matriculated at SHS with her. Buffy looks blank, clearly not remembering him, but tries to cover.
Casa Summers. In the kitchen, the radio starts up again of its own accord, as does the stereo in the living room. Dawn grabs an axe and sets to work smashing everything into smithereens. I almost can't blame her at this point, because I have a deep, pathological fear of horror movies that show a house turning against its owners, and therefore I am filled with sympathy for Dawn here. Mark your calendars. As Dawn and axe enter the kitchen, the microwave springs to life. She's going to smash it with her axe (and I'm not sure if that's really a good idea), but it blows up before she can get to it as glass flies like shrapnel through the air. Suddenly the radio makes a noise like it's tuning in a faraway broadcast, and we hear Joyce's voice say, "Dawn?" Interesting to note that the only appliances affected were those that Dawn herself had recently used. I don't know if that means anything, but it's my job to notice stuff like that.
Back at the graveyard, Holden is still trying to jog Buffy's memory. No dice. At least, not until he mentions that he once dropped a lighting board on her foot. At this, Buffy's memory is awakened, probably thinking of her ruined footwear. They begin to catch up as if they were two normal classmates who hadn't seen each other in a couple of years. Their fight forgotten, they stroll through the cemetery. Holden says that he's "majoring in psych. Really liking that." Hee. His delivery is cracking me up. He mentions his internship at The Sunnydale Sanatorium For Residents Who Can't Handle The Awful Truth Of It All But Are Too Stupid To Move Away. He jokes that in Sunnydale, they need "a velvet rope and a bouncer." Holden morphs back into his human face and is briefly confused by the sensation. Buffy tells him that he has the ability to go back and forth between his human and vamp faces. Kind of like the Transformers. Now that I have had a chance to see him, I realize that Holden looks and sounds like a younger, cute Bill Murray. Did you notice the lack of R on the end of "cute"? Not a mistake.
Holden is all, "So I'm a vampire." Buffy offers her condolences for his tough break, but he assures her that he's feeling pretty good about it. Like he's "connected to a powerful, all-consuming evil that's going to suck the world into a fiery oblivion." Buffy mentions that she isn't really feeling connected to much of anything. Holden wonders what her deal is with the whole cross-and-stake accessorizing theme. Buffy reveals that she's the Slayer, and explains what that entails. Holden mentions that he heard a lot of rumors about Buffy back in high school days, ranging from "dating some really old guy" to "heavy religious," and then Scott Hope's pronouncement that she was a lesbian. Buffy is outraged until Holden reassures her that "he says that about every girl he breaks up with. And then! Last year, big surprise, he comes out." Which is such a total shout-out to the Couch Baron. Holden muses, "All that time you were a Slayer." Buffy's ego demands that he be corrected, in that she's "THE," not "A," Slayer. "So," responds Holden, stepping closer, "when you said 'not connected,' that was kind of a telling statement, wasn't it?" Buffy accuses him of Psych 101ing her and sarcasms, "What I really need is emotional therapy from the evil dead." Well, maybe not from a vampire, Buffy, but you should've been in therapy years ago. Buffy protests that she's "connected to a lot of people, okay?" The camera pans down to Buffy's cell phone, probably lost during the fight, ringing softly a few graves away. I know people have been clamoring for a long time that the Scoobs needed cell phones, but I would've been much happier if the show had just insinuated that cell phones don't work around the Hellmouth. I'm really not looking forward to eight thousand explanatory "why Buffy's cell phone isn't functional" scenes. So. Who wants to start the count of damaged and lost cell phones? Say it with me. Vone, vone, vone lost cell phone mwa ha ha.
The caller on the other end is, of course, Dawn, who is sitting on the coffee table, nursing her cut foot. She picks up the radio that was in the kitchen and presses random buttons. "Do it again. I heard you!" she commands. Dawn is seemingly overtaken with an ominous feeling emanating from behind her. She slowly looks over her shoulder at the couch Joyce was found on to reveal…NOTHING. She faces forward again, and the lights go out briefly. As they flash back on, we see that the weapons chest has been stood on one end, and one dining room table is stacked upon another with all of the chairs on top of that. On the wall, "Mother's milk is red today" is written in a drippy, bloody scrawl. Gah. I'm so glad I'm watching this in daylight this time around because this scene really embiggens the wiggins. The lights go out again, and everything is back to normal. Dawn looks around, scared out of her gourd, and the mysterious banging starts up again. "Why are you doing this?" she wails. "I don't understand." The beating relentlessly sounds until it's subdued by Dawn's screeching. It occurs to Dawn that something might be trying to communicate with her. "Once for yes. Twice for no," she shouts." "Mom?" she querulously calls. One bang. "Are you okay?" is the question. The answer is a big fat two-knock no. As is the answer to "Are you alone?" All of a sudden, the house starts to shake violently and all the light bulbs blow out.
Cut to SHS. Jonathan and Andrew have located their secret leftover stash of high-tech villainy gear as they descend stealthily into the library. Well, Jonathan does; Andrew falls. Which he so totally deserves for his actions later in the episode, the little weasel. And I mean that in all of the scariest, Pauly Shore senses of the word. Armed with flashlights, they walk the halls. At the sound of something falling, Jonathan opines that they should find Buffy and "tell her what we know about the seal of" something mystical or other, which sounds like a prescription drug I may once have been on. Weasel Andrew thinks that she won't believe them without any proof, and that it'd be better to find it, alert the Slayer, and then help her to destroy it, thus ensuring that they'll be the heroes of the day. Suitably talked up, Jonathan and Weasel Andrew split up to find Principal Wood's office.
Once Jonathan is out of sight, Warren swaggers around the corner. Andrew visibly crumbles, asking Warren if he has "any idea how hard it's been to act this cool." Warren tells him to relax, because "all specs are within parameters." Andrew tells Warren how much he hates it when Warren leaves him: "One time you died and I ended up a Mexican." Warren assures him that the whole dying thing was just part of the master plan, but realizes the only way to really soothe Andrew is to put things in terms of Star Wars. "If you strike me down," begins Warren encouragingly. "I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine," finishes a mollified Andrew. Andrew then wonders if maybe Willow could do him in too. Probably not, but I know a few million members of the audience that would be willing to help you out there, you sniveling, spineless worm. Warren tells Andrew that if "Short Round pulls off his end of the bargain, we'll both become gods." Andrew turns to gaze down the hallway that Jonathan recently departed down and says, "That boy is our last hope." Warren, playing his part, declares, "No. There is another." This confuses Andrew, who has always been a few Crayolas short of the 64-crayon set. He asks Warren that if it's not Jonathan who really is their last hope, then. Warren is all, "I was just going with it. It was a thing. No, he's our last hope." Not that you can tell from my recap or anything, but his delivery is pretty amusing there.
Library. Willow and Cassie Ghost chat. Willow asks why Tara didn't come herself. Cassie Ghost briefly dissembles, but under Willow's questioning, she says finally, "Because of what you did. You killed people. You can't see her. It's just how it is." Willow looks upwards and yells to Tara how much she misses her. Dude, she's dead, not deaf. Cassie just stares at her. Willow, eyes brimming with tears, wonders if Tara went away. Cassie says that Tara is still there. It's just that "she's crying." Distressed, Willow begs her not to cry. Cassie tells her that Tara "wishes she could touch [Willow]." Willow tells Tara how her life is "a giant hole" where everything hurts so much and it's not getting better. Cassie Ghost reminds Willow that she's "strong. Like an Amazon."
Bronze. A blonde girl in a jean jacket with a faux-fur collar approaches Spike and lays a pack of smokes on the bar to him. She wordlessly asks, "Is this seat taken?" and he nods at her to sit down. I really shouldn't have been too surprised when she bit it in the end. I mean, she was smoking and all.
Graveyard. Buffy lies on a big stone coffin-like thing in lieu of a couch. I'm sure I'd know the word for that if I were the Slayer. Maybe some misunderstood gothy teen will email me. Holden provides Buffy with a little impromptu therapy relating to her relationships, which I'm not going to repeat here because DAMN is this scene talky enough already. Also we've pretty much already lived through most of Buffy's relationships, and I'm sure that everyone has already come to their own conclusions. Holden advises her that she should just ease up on herself, even though, because of his newfound evil nature, he's kinda enjoying her pain. Also, he mentions something that I've been saying for years, namely that Buffy, at age twenty-one, should in no way be settling down already. Preach it, charismatic dead guy! He uses an example of his girlfriend back at Dartmouth, whom he has no plans to "vampify" despite their good relationship -- he's just not ready for that immortal commitment. Which, I suppose, vamps have to take more seriously than the rest of us. At least I have the pleasure of knowing that my annoying exes will someday die. Holden gets so excited at how "insane" the situation is, in that he was too scared to talk to Buffy back in school, but now they're mortal enemies. "Hey!" says he, "wouldn't it be cool if we became nemeses?" This causes Holden to realize that it's probably going to be necessary to fight to the death. He assures Buffy that "it's nothing personal."
Then Holden worries that Buffy doesn't share his excitement about their upcoming fight. Buffy mopes that it's not the fighting worrying her, but the fact that she's going to win. Chuckling, Holden says he thinks he has a pretty good chance, and Buffy flatly replies that he won't be leaving the graveyard. "Do the words 'superiority complex' mean anything to you?" asks Holden. These psych majors never let up, do they? Always wanting to know why you chose the maple donut instead of the crème-filled and finding deep meaning in the items you haul around in your backpack. Buffy doesn't really reply, just reiterates her sworn duty as the Slayer. Claiming that there are other issues at stake (heh), Holden pries, "Whose fault was your parents' divorce?" That's what I'm talking about -- nosy psych majors. Buffy rolls her eyes and quips that now he's using "insane troll logic." Holden sits down to Buffy, who decides that her father was most at fault for ending her parents' marriage. She says she thinks Hank cheated on Joyce, although she's not sure. I wonder if that's something she's suspected all along, or something she's more recently come to believe after all her experience with failed relationships. Holden asks Buffy if she has troubled relationships because, deep down, she believes she's better than men. Or the men she dates. I'm not clear there. So he's mining the superiority complex vein again. On first viewing, I thought Holden was simply a device to give us some insight into Buffy's thoughts (though why she couldn't just talk to Willow, I don't know. Oh wait. Willow is way boring these days), but on second viewing, I can more and more believe that Holden is an emissary of the Big Bad Beneath.
Anyway, Buffy's ticked, and they bicker about how Buffy didn't remember Holden. He says he understands how Buffy feels, because having a chosen destiny probably could lead to someone feeling superior. Buffy protests that she doesn't feel at all superior, and in fact she's done terrible things that her friends don't know about, and if they did, they'd hate her. That old chestnut? Hello, Season Six. Gawd. If it's sexual things, Buffy, who cares? I mean, damn, perhaps your lesbian friend could actually sympathize with having sexual feelings that aren't mainstream. And if it's that you treated Spike really, really crappily, well, perhaps Xander could sympathize since he wasn't a prince to Anya either. "Buffy, I'm here to kill you, not to judge you," says Holden, cracking me up. Buffy continues to ramble, confessing that things got really bad in her last relationship. She acted "like a monster" and was horrible to the guy, but at the same time she somehow submitted herself to his desires. She sniffles and mopes while Holden surveys a small statue placed on a nearby grave. He grabs the statue and belts Buffy in the face with it, causing her to flip backwards off the sepulcher she was sitting on. New rule for Season Seven: As soon as any character gets mopey and introspective, someone else in their vicinity must immediately belt them in the face with the Virgin Mary. Whee! That'll sort all these Gloomy Guses out quickly enough. He tells her, "Everyone's got issues," and leans in to bite her neck. Everyone's got issues, but most of us don't discuss them with strangers in graveyards late at night. At least, I don't -- I can't speak for the rest of the TWoP recappers. They have some mighty strange habits.
So. Much. Talking. Fight now?
Back from commercial, Buffy and Holden are fighting. Yay. She wants to kill him really dead; he claims that he was so touched by her opening up, he felt compelled to bite her. More fighting, and then they crash through a stained-glass window into a crypt. Hee. I wonder if the graveyard caretakers all over Sunnydale think the destruction caused by Buffy on her nightly rounds is actually caused by vandals. It amuses me to think of them wandering about, muttering about catching those damn kids this time and having no idea what's really going on.
Dawn stands in the Summers living room, which is totally dark except for some light coming in the windows. She turns in place, telling her haunting that she can hear it breathing. The raspy-breath sound effect they're using here is pretty scary. Dawn demands to know if the haunting is keeping her mother from her, and then in a flash of lightning we see Dead Joyce on the sofa. Her eyes are blank, milky-white orbs. Which creeps me out on many levels. Thinking about putting in contact lenses really squicks me out. I just had an eye test (I failed), and everyone is asking me if I'm going to get contacts. To which I say, "Uh-uh. Millions of years of evolution have instilled in me the idea that it's a Bad Idea to stick stuff in your eyes. I just can't overcome that kind of conditioning." So instead I'm choosing to drive Brit Boy insane by making him visit every optometrist in the greater Bay Area with me and asking, "Do you like this pair, or one of the other thirty-two pairs at the last five places we went to?" So far, I haven't broken his spirit, but I'll keep you posted. Dawn flinches and then slowly approaches the sofa. As she gets closer, the lightning flashes again, and this time there's a dark-colored demon crouched on top of Joyce's body. The first time I watched this scene, I was very confused as to why Joyce was being attacked by a Navy Seal frogman. We only see quick flashes of the demon and it's all black and shiny, so I think you can understand my mistake. Especially if you take into account what I said up above about needing glasses. Upon running the scene in slow-motion, the frogman illusion was destroyed, but I did notice that the demon appears to have a smaller creature hanging onto its back. Shudder. Joyce reaches out to Dawn and makes moaning noises. Dawn demands that Frogman get off her mom and let her talk. In a flash, the sofa is empty. Dawn searches around the floor for the axe she was carrying earlier, and in another flash of lightning, she sees it swinging right for her face. A scary demon voice commands, "Get out!" and Dawn runs for the front door. When she opens it, however, she's blown back by an incredibly strong wind. That seems counterproductive on the demon's part if it really does want her to leave, but does make sense if it only wants Dawn to think that it wants her to leave, thereby strengthening her resolve to stay, which is the result it truly wants. How's that for insane troll logic? Dawn decides to stay and protect Joyce. Joyce's body is back on the sofa. It opens its milky eyes. Creepy!
Jonathan and Weasel Andrew are down in the basement of Sunnydale High. The Weasel notes that the corridors in the basement seem to be shifting. As Jonathan looks at their map, the Li'l Weasel turns away as if he knows just where to look. He shines his flashlight down the hall, and we see Warren standing up against a door. I was totally expecting that, but it managed to make me jump anyway. It appears that Warren is standing, or hanging, in front of the room where Buffy found Spike in "Lessons." Jonathan and the Weasel enter, find the spot they're looking for, and start digging.
Buffy and Holden fight. Sweet, wonderful fighting. Such easy recapping. But I'm sure they'll start talking again soon. Oops, yeah, here it is. Buffy is about to stake Holden when he gets her goat by asking if she's killing him because he's evil, or because she opened up to him. "Why can't it be both?" asks Buffy. No, she doesn't, actually. She just stomps around, all goat having been gotten. And isn't that a strange phrase, when you think about it? "You dirty swine! You stole my eggs and I let it go. You lured away my wife and I looked the other way. But then you got my goat. Now I'm really angry!" Just doesn't make much sense. Maybe I just don't appreciate goats enough. As someone who is reading this over my shoulder just said, "I'd've thought you'd have a special affinity for other horned and cloven-hoofed creatures." Holden says he has no worries, and he's just wondering if a "bitable" girl from high school came to his funeral. "See, this is what I hate about you vampires!" exclaims Buffy, "Sex and death and love and pain. It's all the same damn thing to you." Ew. I just had the disturbing thought that perhaps Buffy played dead in sex games with Spike, and that's what's really eating her about those sessions. Whine. I need the healing power of Krispy Kremes now. Totally off-the-wall theory I'm going to do my best to wipe from my brain in a haze of sugar. Holden dismisses Buffy's complaints as common "guy" behavior, but Buffy claims to know what she's talking about. Holden realizes what she means and exclaims, "Oh my God! Oh, well, you know, not my God, because I defy him and all of his works." Hee. Holden's matter-of-fact acceptance of his new evilness is very amusing. Villains are so much more fun when they're not all conflict-y and angstful all the time. He then asks if God does exist, and Buffy says there's no definitive word on that yet. Holden agrees to fight Buffy to the death if he's right about something. He asks, "Your last relationship -- was it with a vampire?"
Cut to Spike walking along a street with the woman from the bar. His body language is very shy, hands stuffed in pockets and shoulders hunched. They share a laugh. God help me, I was actually happy for Spike right here, because he looked cute and happy and I hoped he was getting the chance to move on. Oh, and because he was silent. I find it much easier to like Spike when he keeps his pretty mouth shut. Damn manipulative ME, softening my heart and really setting me up for the shocker at the end of the episode.
Willow and Ghost Of Cassie are still talking in the library. Willow mourns her actions after Tara's death, talking sadly about how she hurt and killed people. Ghost Of Cassie lets her off the hook with, "It was the power," but Willow retorts, "I am the power. It's in me." She makes a tiny quip about how she trashed the Magic Box, and I give a tiny sigh of relief over not having seen that set all season. Ghost Of Cassie tells Willow that the power is bigger than she is and that the spirit folks, including Tara, have seen Willow's path. "You can't use magic again. Not ever." I may be a little slow, but this is where I totally and for sure knew that Ghost Of Cassie was up to no good at all. ["Well, I'm very slow, then, because I didn't catch on until Cassie Ghost's scene." -- Sars] The Word Of Giles trumps the word of a random baby-voiced ghost manifestation thingy any day. Willow is a little confused, but agrees that she won't use black magic. However, Giles has told her that "it isn't as simple as quitting it all cold turkey." Ghost Of Cassie shakes her head and insists that Willow mustn't use magic at all, as it's too dangerous. Willow gives in to the suggestion and says she'll be "okay," but Ghost Of Cassie has gone all party-pooper and tells Willow that not only will she not be okay, but that she will also "kill everybody." Willow is appalled, because her favorite go-evil-and-kill-people outfit isn't back from the cleaners yet.
Jonathan and the Weasel have almost uncovered whatever they've been digging up. "I hope Buffy will know how to destroy it," says Jonathan, and then he excitedly remembers his high school locker combination. The Weasel is confused as to why Jonathan would even want to remember high school, but Jonathan claims he misses those days. After the year he's had, I can see why, I guess. Jonathan muses about how all the pain and humiliation has "dropped away" and left him missing friends, enemies, and the people he talked to every day. Aw. Weasel Andrew looks up and sees Warren standing behind Jonathan, who is unaware. As Jonathan continues to wish he could talk to all those people and find out what they're doing now, Warren smiles an evil smile at the Weasel, who flinches and looks agitated. Weasel Andrew snaps, "You know what? They don't want to talk to you, all those people you just mentioned. Not one of them is sitting around going, 'I wonder what Jonathan is up to right now.' Not one of them cares about you." Ouch. Damn, dude, that hurts. Jonathan smiles a little and replies, "Well, I still care about them. That's why I'm here." Aw. Sniff. He returns to digging. The camera pans down, and we see that they've uncovered what looks like a large stone or metal disk, with a raised relief of a devil's head in a pentagram and other dark mystical symbols.
Dawn has candles burning in the living room and she sits on the floor, preparing to cast the Frogman out with a spell. She tosses pinches of powder in the air in preparation, but is slammed back against a wall by an invisible force. Undeterred, she begins her incantation but is interrupted by being slashed across the face, by the candles blowing out, and by all the windows in the living bursting inwards and covering her in glass shards. I know the number of a certain bunch of sisters in San Francisco who might be able to recommend a good glazier for Dawn.
Buffy and Holden are talking. Buffy's explaining about Spike: "And the joke is…he loved me. In his own sick, soulless way, he really did care for me. But I didn't want to be loved." She continues that because she doesn't "serve" her power, she felt the need to be punished and hurt like she thought she deserved. Holden listens sympathetically as Buffy unravels the tangles of her psyche. She talks about how she feels "beneath" everyone, including her friends and boyfriends. She feels unworthy, but also that their love and opinions don't matter, because they can't know or go through what she has gone through as the Slayer. This leads her to realizing that she also sometimes feels superior to everyone else. "You do have a superiority complex, and you've got an inferiority complex about it," diagnoses Sigvamp Freud. But I think he's wrong. Buffy's inferiority complex isn't about feeling superior; it's about guilt and shame and feeling isolated, as if she can't ever measure up to whatever existential burden that she or life has placed on her shoulders. And actually, I don't find her situation all that uncommon. I'd say many of the bright people I know have warring feelings of inferiority (usually about living up to their own expectations) and superiority. Or so they tell me. I wouldn't know anything about it myself, of course. Ah, back to the show. Holden communicates his wonderful message of hope: "Everybody feels alone. And everybody is. Until you die." Okay, thanks for sharing. When on God's green earth is Buffy going to learn to stop talking to goddamn vampires about her goddamn problems? I can't think of a worse segment of the population for Buffy to seek a sympathetic ear from, considering her line of work. I mean, do you think the head of the CIA wanders the nighttime streets of Baghdad or Bilbao looking for junior terrorists to share his dark night of the soul? I don't think so! Except...wait…huh, that might actually explain a few things I've been wondering about recently. Moving on. Holden warms up for the fight, and Buffy thanks him for listening. She continues, "That stuff with Spike is pretty --" Holden interrupts her, "Hold it. Did you say Spike?"
Spike walks the woman from the bar up to the stairs of her apartment building. We don't hear dialogue, but the woman gestures upstairs as if she doesn't quite want to say goodbye. Spike steps backwards and ducks his head. See? Harmless, like a big, fluffy kitten. Buffy was right.
Dawn, her face and mouth bloodied, is still trying to cast out the Frogman demon, despite the house being filled with strong winds and flying debris. She finishes the spell, and the invisible demon seems to scream in pain. Blood splatters all the walls and then vanishes. The winds stop, and Dawn falls to the floor amid the total destruction of the living room. She lifts her head slowly as the room fills with golden light. Joyce, in glowing white robes, stands smiling down on Dawn.
Willow (remember her?) is horrified that Tara and Ghost Of Cassie have foreseen some terrible path for her. She frets about what they've seen, and Ghost Of Cassie reiterates that Willow must give up all magic immediately. Willow agrees, but then tells Ghost Of Cassie that Giles told her that if she tried to stop completely, she'd most likely go off the deep end. Uh huh. Which is exactly what Ghost Of Cassie wants, Willow! Go Giles, choose Giles. Ghost Of Cassie encourages Willow to be strong; Willow, on the verge of tears, worries about killing her friends and confesses, "I'm not strong. I'm not an Amazon. I'm just me." Which is what she told Giles she wanted, to just be Willow, so should we consider this positive character growth? Ghost Of Cassie decides to change tactics. She suggests that there is one other thing Willow could do that would allow her to see Tara. She encourages Willow to join Tara, which would have the double benefit of reuniting her with her lover and protecting all her friends. As Ghost Of Cassie perks, "It's just like going to sleep," Willow's eyes seems to both widen and harden in realization. Her face set blankly, she stands slowly and demands, "Who are you?"
Back at the crypt, Buffy wants to know how Holden knows Spike. Yeah, better lose that superiority complex, Buffy, because Willow has just shown herself to be much more perceptive than you. How exactly would you figure a newly risen vampire knows Spike? Holden spells it all out for Buffy with alphabet blocks and a Power Point presentation: "He was the guy who sired me."
Close-up. With a snarl, Spike sinks his fangs into the neck of the woman from the bar. Her hands flutter around his neck. Then a long shot as he drinks. The woman's arms hang limply at her sides. Whoopsie. Note to self: watch out when Buffy says raging flash-floods, jumping from planes without parachutes, and hungry crocodiles are "harmless," as a Slayer's definition of "harmless" has a whole harmful element not found in most definitions of the word.
Dawn squints up at Joyce, who needs to turn the heavenly illumination ray down a notch. "Things are coming, Dawn. Listen, things are on their way," shares Joyce with a definite lack of specifics. She continues, "I love you and I love string cheese, and Little Debbie snack cakes and puppies playing in the leaves…oh, and Buffy too." Okay, not really, but there's a definite pause in there between "I love you" and "and I love Buffy." Joyce's uplifting message is, "When it's bad, Buffy won't choose you. She'll be against you." Joyce smiles enigmatically and then fades out. Dawn shouts, "No, don't go!" She sobs in the wreckage of the living room.
Jonathan is tidying up when the Weasel claps a hand on his shoulder. Jonathan stands and looks surprised as he catches sight of Warren over the Weasel's left shoulder. Warren smiles. At that moment, Andrew stabs Jonathan in the gut.
Cassie Ghost looks at Willow appraisingly. "Suicide thing was too far, huh?" She crumples up her brow and muses, "You seemed so ripe." Willow demands to know who she's talking to, but Cassie Ghost doesn't answer. Instead, she lays out a little suicide scenario: "I can see it now. Candlelight, the Indigo Girls playing, picture of your dead girlfriend in your bloody lap." She mocks Willow's mourning of Tara, and that's the one moment when I think it would have been better to have Amber Benson in the role. For Willow to have seen Tara in the flesh, so to speak, maliciously lampooning their relationship would have been so deliciously twisted. Leaning forward, Cassie Ghost threatens, "This last year is going to seem like cake after what I put you and your friends through and I am not a fan of easy death." Oh, I like cake. But no, she's not done yet. Cassie Ghost still has to blab on about how she's tired of balancing the scales of good and evil and she's done with the mortal coil. Sigh -- entertainment villains and their inability to resist bragging. Cassie Ghost promises a "big finish," and I can only hope it's a side-splitter like Gachnar's. "From beneath you it devours," quotes Willow, and Cassie Ghost replies, "Oh, not it. Me." She steps back and grins at Willow. Her grin gets wider, and wider, and wider in an incredibly scary special effect. A demon head shows in her mouth, and then Cassie's head flops backwards like a hood. The demon's mouth opens, turns inside out, and sucks up Cassie's body until the whole thing turns completely in on itself and vanishes. Willow is quite understandably horrified, because Cassie Ghost got the good, scary Special Effects Of Evil and all Willow got was green blobs to shoot out of her boobs.
Dawn, looking desolate, sits in the (completely. Utterly.) destroyed living room. You know you're old when your shudder is in fear of how much all of that is going to cost to replace.
Weasel Andrew drops Jonathan's body into the hole they dug earlier. Jonathan, his arms spread wide, falls into the center of the pentagram. His blood pools and then spreads outwards, filling the background of the design entirely.
Spike finishes his kill and flings the woman's body to the ground. He shakes his head and wipes blood from his lip.
Buffy stands holding a stake, and the only evidence left of Holden is a cloud of dust swirling about her. She swallows as if she's about to be sick.