End of Days

Previouslies. I don't care how many times they try to make me recap Xander's eye being gouged out, I'm not doing it!

We pick up exactly where we left off last week. Faith discovers the bomb and just barely has time to yell, "Get down!" before the place explodes, flinging Junior Misses into the air.

Meanwhile, back at The Sunnydale Free-Range Bringer Farm and Winery, Buffy takes in the sleek and shiny curves of the weapon in front of her. She's interrupted by Caleb crashing down the stairs. He downplays the fact that Buffy has found The Little Red Axe That Could, because "the question now, girly-girl, is can you pry it from solid rock before I come over there and" I'll take "yes" for all the money in the world, Bob. Buffy picks up The Little Red Axe That Could effortlessly. I guess Caleb has never read the legend of Excalibur. See what happens when you don't read, children? You miss valuable literary allusions that could save your butts.

Caleb tries to convince Buffy that she should do herself a favor and hand over her Deus Axe Machina before she hurts herself. Day-um. He must think that Buffy is as stupid as he is. But Buffy is smart enough to know that when the man in black jeans who is evil -- hmmm, I guess that's rather redundant -- tells you to do something, you don't obey. Buffy notices that Caleb is backing away from The Little Red Axe That Could. First Buffy morphs into the scene and orders Caleb to let Buffy escape unharmed. Caleb worries about the safety of his skin, but First Buffy tells Caleb that she (Supposedly Non-Evil But Still Decidedly Bitchy Buffy) has other fish to fry. Specifically, "her friends are in trouble." We hear this as a tinny voice-over, suggesting that Buffy is also able to receive 66.6 KEVL. "Faith go boom!" says First Buffy. Buffy rushes past Caleb and up the stairs.

Meanwhile, in the done-blowed-up corner of the earth, we pan across a whole lot of destruction. Millie gets up and starts calling out for Faith. "Is anybody here?" She's joined by an unscathed J. Sweet 'n' Low. They too call around for survivors, and it appears that Miss Minnesota has made it through with only a broken arm. Pan across dead bodies. Unfortunately, Kennedy is not one of them. Kennedy orders the girls to find Faith, and they pull her unconscious form out of a pool of water. They agree that they need to get medical attention for Faith, but then they hear a low growl. "It's one of them," decrees Kennedy, meaning another Notsferatu. "That's not possible," says another Junior Miss, channeling the entirety of the viewing audience. I mean, we all saw that to raise an bervamp, you had to do some blood deal over the seal. Then we saw Andrew close the seal. Apparently, all the bervamps got together and said, "Screw this seal shit. Let's take the stairs!" The Slayer Babies decide that the best course of action is to run. Run, Junior Misses, run! Straight into the arms of Notsferatu. Quick now! They run right into a passage that's blocked by rubble. They scale it one by one, but it's slow going helping the walking, and not-so-walking, wounded. Miss Minnesota is the last one over, and just as she clears the barrier, Notsferatu comes up behind and slashes ineffectively at the air behind her. Kennedy gathers the girls into a circle and instructs the rest of the Junior Misses not to panic because the numbers are on their side. "We can take one of these things," she asserts confidently.

Cut to Casa Summers, where Andrew is emptying a sack containing the spoils of war onto the kitchen island. He's been looting at an abandoned grocery store, that brave hero. The rest of the girls gather around in excitement like they haven't seen a Twix in a dog's age. Giles swoops in from the side, exclaiming, "Ooh! Jaffa Cakes," in an oh-my-god-I-just-came style of delivery. That settles it for me. Giles can't be evil; he likes Jaffa Cakes. Enter Xander, Willow, and Dawn. They were unsuccessful in their quest to find Buffy, even though Willow did a locator spell and everything! Well, actually, it brought them to the house where Buffy had her big sulk, but she had already moved on. Giles tells them that "something's gone wrong," because Faith hasn't yet returned from her mission. "We have to go to her," concludes Willow.

Back in the sewers, Kennedy tells everyone to "Get ready" to face the Notsferatu in front of them. Except that she's grabbed by Niles Wentsworth-Nostferatu The Second from behind! She shakes him off, but they're confronted by Percy Dunlop Nosteratu The Third! They grab a Junior Miss and proceed to, um, try to hug her to death. And if your big scary super-vamp's best attack is what looks like a mighty big bear-hug? Maybe you need to rethink the effectiveness of said villain. Notsferatu? Not so frightening. Kennedy grabs a wooden-handled long axe and tries to engage an bervamp. He quickly disarms her and lifts her by the throat, perilously close to crushing her windpipe. Just then Buffy finds the girls and drops down into the fray. She effortlessly dusts the Notsies with The Little Red Axe That Could, thus saving Kennedy. Great. Like I didn't have enough reasons to hate her already. Buffy tells them to "get the wounded. We're leaving." "Are there more?" asks Kennedy. "There's always more," sages Buffy.

Back at Casa Summers, it's a gaggle of wounded girls. Xander and Giles carry Faith upstairs. "I think we got punished," says Millie. "What?" asks a confused Buffy. "We followed her," explains Kennedy. "And it didn't work out," finishes Miss Minnesota. "You guys, it was a trap. It's not her fault. That could've just as easily have happened to me," replies Buffy. And, um, WOULD HAVE happened to you if the Junior Bits had followed your crackpot little scheme instead of putting their feet down. ["And, um, DID HAPPEN to you. Bitch." -- Sars] "Are you, like, back?" asks J. Sweet 'n' Low. Buffy's not sure, so she puts off a discussion and heads upstairs to check on Faith.

After quickly ascertaining that Faith is unconscious but not dead, Buffy calls her lieutenants for a little meeting. She tells them about her new axe, or "some kind of scythe." The only thing she's sure of is "that it made Caleb back off in a hurry." "So it's true," says a grinning, giggly Willow, punching Giles lightly on the arm for emphasis, "scythe matters." Hee! I don't care that the Little Red Axe That Could looks in no way like a scythe. I'm a sucker for puns, and for characters who actually display a little personality. I'll overlook facts in favor of fun in this case. Giles pointedly ignores Willow's joke while Willow and Buffy share a grin. "It's quite ingenious," he says, playing around with The Little Red Axe That Could. "And you say you sense something when you hold it?" confirms Willow. "Not much," admits Buffy, "but it's strong." Please, please let it be that Buffy doesn't sense much of the power because it's really meant for Faith to have. Especially in light of Freya later being surprised by Buffy's name. I mean, sure, it could be just another "Doesn't Buffy have a wacky name?" joke, but wouldn't it be nice if, once in a while, something on the show was foreshadowed subtly enough that it's revelation, and non-duplicitously enough that it wouldn't violate everything we'd learned in the preceding season? Yeah, I'm looking at you, "The Gift." Giles notes that the axe is not only ancient but mystical. Well, YEAH, it'd have to be. Did you see how shiny and red it was? Giles is befuddled as to "how something like this could exist without [his] having heard of it." Giles obviously hasn't been reading Fray, then. Neither have I, so I'm just as understandably mystified as he is, but luckily Sci Fi Gal is sending me the back-issues. Thanks, Sci Fi Gal! "The good guys are not traditionally known for their communication skills," notes Buffy. Dude? Is that what passes as an attempt for an apology? I honestly can't tell. Giles isn't sure how to take that either, so he rolls his eyes. Good choice, Giles. I'm all about the eye-rolling. Buffy tells the crew that they need to get the 411 on the axe. "Don't worry, Buffy," reassures Willow. "We'll find out everything there is to know," and she goes over to the desk to flip her iBook open.

Andrew and Anya are in the living room, tending to a wounded Junior Miss and grousing about having to use sheets instead of bandages. "They're going to look like badly wounded Easter baskets," grumps Anya. "What?" grogs the wounded Junior Miss. Anya makes a sympathetic noise, but then takes a swig from the bottle of whisky she's been using to sterilize the wounds. Andrew gets all tattle-tale on Anya's misappropriating of supplies, but then takes a swig himself when Anya hands him the bottle. "It's horrible," says Andrew. "It's a slaughterhouse is what it is," observes Anya. "What?!?" says the wounded girl. "Aw," clucks Anya sympathetically, "trying to talk will just kill you sooner." Heh. Andrew stands up, resolute. He decides that they should go and loot the hospital. "Im going in." He takes a swig. "You're coming with me." Beat. "I think you should drive cuz that Scotch made me a little dizzy." Anya enthusiastically agrees and runs off to find Kennedy "to watch the girls. She's tough. Imminent death won't bother her."

The camera pans through the half-closed door to the kitchen. Inside, Xander and Buffy are discussing some mysterious plan. Xander is against it. "If I do this, that's it for me for this fight. I feel like you're putting me out to pasture." Buffy assures him that that's not the case. "I need someone I can count on no matter what happens." Oh? I thought that was Spike. This week it's Xander? Is this supposed to be what passes for character development these days, or am I the only one with whiplash from Buffy's incredible 180 in the last few episodes? "I just always thought that I would be there with you, y'know, for the end," says Xander. Buffy calls him on the apparent faux pas of presaging her death. Can't blame him! She's died or run off in half the season finales so far. He tries to get a few words out around the foot in his mouth. "I should be at your side, that's all I'm saying." Buffy: "You will be. You're my strength, Xander. Without you I never would have made it this far. I trust you with my life. That's why I need you to do this for me." This can't be character development. It has to, y'know, DEVELOP over time. It does not spring fully formed into a script. That's why they don't call it "character Athena." Xander finally agrees to the mysterious plan, and Buffy says in a teasing tone, "Also, you can't shoot a bow and arrow anymore, and every time you pick up a sword I worry that you're going to break one of our good lamps." Xander gives Buffy a "you did not just say that" look. "Don't look at me," she shrugs, "you're the one that said I'm gonna die."

Giles and Willow in Willow's room, researching the axe. Willow has a possible lead on the Little Red Axe That Could. "Before the vineyard was a vineyard, it was a monastery. Could've been put there then." Oh, great. As if "The Sunnydale Free-Range Bringer Farm and Winery" weren't a long enough name; now it's "The Sunnydale Free-Range Bringer Farm, Winery, and Former Monastery." Sheesh. What a mouthful. Giles counters that the axe is far older than that. We pan past the papers spread out on the bed, a bunch of candles, the turned-off lamps, and over to Willow's functional computer. What? Hold up. Is Willow all, "I don't do any magic now, Giles, except I do occasionally recharge the batteries on my laptop"? And then Giles is all, "Can you do these flashlights for me?" Willow: "Well, I think so, but I really dont like to mess with the dark powers." Anyway, Willow says that the monks used to tell of a "pagan temple," but it doesn't really seem like a valuable lead, so Willow draws Giles's attention to a website about all sorts of mystical axes. Giles has a bunch of papers spread all over the bed about various weapons, but no real leads either. "How-how're we supposed to narrow this down? The illustrations are never clear enough!" he rants. Heh. Willow hefts The Little Red Axe That Could. Ominous music plays. Giles asks if she can sense any power in the axe. Negative. "Tapping into magicks might help with that," suggests Giles in a really creepy way. Willow isn't sure she wants to mess with something that Caleb is afraid of. She puts the axe down quickly. Giles reminds her that she could do it without endangering herself. "If I try something big, I change," she reminds him. Yeah -- you change into a character that is at least recognizable as your former self. Don't lie. We all saw it on Angel. But what Willow means is, "I can hardly do a locator spell without getting dark roots." I've already mentioned the Angel appearance, so I won't harp on it except to say WHAT A FUCKING LOAD OF CRAP! Giles wants to know what would happen if using magic was necessary. "Honestly? I don't know," admits Willow. She sits down at the computer again. Giles sighs. "All right. Do what you can. That's all any of us can do." Thanks for the vote of confidence, Captain Motivation. Willow has found a link down at the end of the page. "Here's one that's just m question mark. What the heck is that?" Giles correctly identifies the question mark as the symbol for a glottal stop in the International Phonetic Alphabet. Willow, girl genius, amazingly doesn't know what that is. He defines it as "a sort of gulpy noise." Here's a better definition. Say "uh-oh." The bit in between the "uh" and the "oh"? That's a glottal stop. This prompts a memory in Giles. "M plus glottal stop is represented by a picture that's commonly thought to symbolize a sickle or a scythe. In thousands of carvings in Egypt and throughout the ancient world." "Carvings like you'd have on a pagan temple?" asks Willow. Giles tells Willow to go and see what she can find out about the temple she alluded to earlier.

Cut to outside. Xander and Dawn are rooting through the car. "Xander," protests Dawn, "my crossbow is not out here. I told you. I don't leave crossbows around all willy-nilly. Not since that time with Miss Kitty Fantastico." Hee! Poor kitty. And I know that some of you have felt some sympathy for Latch ever since I colored her nose blue in a fit of pique during Season Five. Well, I was just sitting here, um, highlighting BritBoy's ear because he was asleep and it was more interesting than watching this episode again. Unfortunately, he woke up. My entire face? Yellow. See what you get when you pick on someone closer to your own size? Jaundice. Screw that. I'll stick to terrorizing those over whom I have a weight advantage. Anyway, I felt that it was my duty to admit to that, since so many of you were outraged on Latch's behalf. Xander asides that he's getting sick of the "it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye" jokes. "Giles was just having fun with you," reassures Dawn. "That's not the point," insists Xander. He objects to the obviousness of it all. Little late for the writers to start complaining about obvious jokes, don't you think? He blathers on until he and Dawn are standing to the car. He moves behind her and then holds a cloth to her mouth. She screams and wiggles for just a moment before she loses consciousness and Xander is able to maneuver her into the car.

Cut to The Sunnydale Free-Range Bringer Farm, Winery, and Former Monastery. Caleb, in a rage, throws a huge barrel of wine against the wall. He's all mad that First Buffy let Supposedly Not Evil But Still Decidedly Bitchy Buffy go. She reminds him that he's weak right now. "Face it. Your strength is waning." And has been, apparently, since the last time they "merged." Oh, so now this is a weird creepy sex thing? I saw enough weird and creepy sex things last week, thanks. But no, First Buffy morphs into some misty CGI creature and then, uh, enters Caleb. What? Huh? Why? How? Don't get your hopes up that you'll ever get any answers at this point. Once you stop caring, it's much easier to overlook this kind of thing. Or, y'know, if you can't stop caring, you can always start drinking. That's what's gotten me through this season.

Faith is on Buffy's obligatory re-bonding rounds, or whatever the hell is going on in this episode. Faith's lying in bed, her face relaxed in pleasure, as Buffy says, "You feel it too, don't you?" But they're not talking about Faith feeling anything of Buffy's except her shiny red axe. Faith can feel the power in it, and she fondles it, explaining, "It's old, it's strong, and it feels likelike it's mine." I'll avoid making any Principal Wood jokes here. Buffy stands to the bed and looks disapproving with her Annoyed Arms Of Emotional Withholding. That's not really as catchy as "Angry Arms," is it? Faith realizes that since she turned down the spin-off deal, she won't catch a break from the script-writers or Buffy, so she quickly tosses the axe down beside her, saying that if it feels like it's hers, it must actually belong to Buffy. Buffy doesn't really quibble and picks the axe back up. Girls fondling phallic symbols and gushing over the enormous power contained within -- gotcha. Buffy sits on the bed and asks Faith if it matters who functions as "the Slayer in charge." Faith hikes herself up a little and claims it never mattered to her. Really? I'm not so sure I believe her. Faith jokes that they should appoint Chao-Ahn as head Slayer, since "it's harder to lead people into a deathtrap if you don't speak English." Buffy's all, "Oh, it wasn't your fault," and Faith's all, "I blew it," so Buffy launches into her one-hundredth rendition this season of The "People Die In Battle -- Ain't That A Bitch" Blues. In return, Faith launches into some self-exploration that doesn't really get off the ground before she reveals to Buffy that she partook of Robin's wood. She giggles about his stamina, but Buffy is squicked that Faith did the Principal in her bed. Oh, okay -- I can't stand Buffy these days, but I think she has a point there.

Faith is worried that Buffy has been "wriggly" with Wood too, but Buffy corrects her, "No, no. We're just good friends. Or mortal enemies, depending on which day it is." Faith tries to refocus on her message: she's always been a loner and jealous of what Buffy had. Then, when she actually was in charge of the group, she realized she'd never " felt so alone in my entire life." Faith has learned that Buffy feels that way every day. Buffy doesn't disagree -- instead, she says that she loves her friends and is grateful for them, but the price of being a Slayer is that loneliness. Faith muses that there's only supposed to be one Slayer, and perhaps that's why she and Buffy can't get along. "Also you went evil and were killing people," snaps out Buffy. Oh, shut up, you unbelievable hypocrite. The fuckin' guest list at your house look like America's Most Wanted, including your special "hold me" boy Spike, and you're still riding Faith, who at least turned herself in and went to jail? What's Willow done lately, other than simper in the corner with the sheets pulled over her head? Why don't you go snap at her about being evil and killing people? Bah. Faith graciously accepts Buffy's ungracious ribbing. Buffy allows that everyone feels alone, but can't just stop there -- she has to add that of course being the Slayer is so much more alone-y. The Slayers can't share their burden, and no one else knows what it's like to be them. Hello, Buffy, Faith? EVERYONE FEELS THAT WAY! Everyone! Haven't you ever heard of existentialism? Alienation? Dissociation? Gawd. In the early seasons, this show effectively illustrated Buffy's burden, her aloneness, and I felt for her. Now I just want her to SHUT THE HELL UP about how special and tortured she is, as if that's some excuse for the crap manner in which she's treated everyone around her. Faith quips that at least they're "hot chicks with superpowers." She and Buffy share a moment of basking in their specialness.

Buffy and her axe clomp downstairs and encounter Spike, who's coming in the front door. He notes that she's back home. Where the hell has he been since he found the note from Buffy? Maybe he decided if the world was going to end and Buffy had run off to fight Caleb, he just had to fit in a viewing of X2. Though I'm left wondering why would he come back to Casa Summers, and why oh why the front door was left unlocked and unguarded? The living room is full of sleeping girls, and vampires who were last seen in the house attacking people can just walk right in? Buffy shows him her axe, blah blah blah. She tells him they've decided to call the fire axe a "scythe," which was fine for a quick pun, but its continued use means that both Giles and Willow have forgotten whatever command of the English language they once had. Scythes have inwardly curved blades and curved handles, people! Spike admires it and says, "Can see why a girl would ditch a fella for one of these." Wait, "fella"? At what point did the writers decide that Spike talked like a minor character from The Music Man? Buffy purses her lips and manages to squeeze out a tiny apology. Then she walks right past him and heads for the kitchen. He follows after her, telling her that he's happy she's home and last night "was just a glitch." I'm sorry, Spike -- I think the words you're looking for are "you used me," not "just a glitch." I guess I'm the least girly girl who ever girled, because I know I'm supposed to eat this stuff up, but in actuality, the prospect of sitting through yet another "what does this non-relationship mean to you?" conversation between these two has me reaching for a jumbo-sized bottle of Jack Daniel's and sweet, sweet oblivion. I'm almost tempted to not even waste the time it takes to drink it all and just brain myself with the bottle right away.

Spike steps in Buffy's path and passive-aggressives about not making something big out of the night before. Buffy's perfectly happy to go along with that, 'cause she's real busy and all, what with being alone and special and beyond the understanding of mere mortals. Somehow they end up bickering about Buffy heading out on another "solo mission" to a "tomb on unconsecrated ground" to discover more about her "scythe." Spike offers to check on Caleb at the vineyard while Buffy's out looking for her unconsecrated tomb. They exchange semi-snippety "greats." Oh, c'mon. Stop stalling! Get to the relationship dissection and get it over with, already. Spike starts to leave, and then Buffy hurries after him, grade-schooling, "You're a dope!" Spike is understandably confused by Buffy's reversion to schoolyard discourse. She tells him that she only has The Little Red Axe That Could because of "the strength that [he] gave [her] last night." She snips that she's "tired of defensiveness and weird mixed signals." Huh. Well, perhaps she should stop being defensive and putting out mixed signals, then! She wants them to tell the truth to each other or something. I don't know; I was practicing training Latch to sit perfectly still so I could do shots off the top of her head. We're getting there after some spills, but I'm a little worried about how much she's started to lick herself. Anyway, back to the navel-gazing blondies. Spike was "terrified" because the night before was "the best night of [his] life." You know, I'm picturing all the female writers of Buffy sitting around writing this crap and giggling like eighth-graders with a brand-new copy of Tigerbeat, and I just have to ask: Do they know any real men? Like, not eighteen-year-old melodramatic guys who say this kind of gooey stuff and leave torn-up flowers on your front porch when you distress them, but real men? Because, ugh.

So, best night of his life. Because of all the closeness and the holding and the sleeping. Buffy says the night before was very important to her, too. Someone should remind them both that the Slayer is always alone, because I've had it pounded into my brain this season, and it makes it quite hard to take any talk of closeness very seriously. Extreme close-up of Spike as he reiterates and then repeats what he's just said. Buffy tells him not to be terrified, and confirms that she was "there" with him. Spike starts to get all soft and sparkly-eyed and even indulges in a head-tilt, which is something we haven't seen in a long while. I'm sure it thrilled many people who aren't me. Spike asks what "it" means, and I've totally lost the thread of the scene from boredom, and quite possibly alcohol poisoning, so I have no idea what he's talking about. Something mushy, I suspect. Buffy replies, "I don't know [what it means]. Does it have to mean something?" Not if you're emotionally frigid, Buffy. Which you are, so, great! You're off the hook. Instead of finally getting fed up with The Great Buffy Jerk-Around, Spike simply knuckles under and says it doesn't have to mean anything. Buffy can't afford to alienate her lap-dog, though, for whatever reason, so she throws out a little bone: "Maybe when" Yeah, sure. Spike says they should leave the rest of the conversation and "go be heroes." Just for one day. Sniff. No, no. Spike and Buffy didn't get to me -- I just get a little mushy every time I think of that song. David Bowie did more in one song, in terms of heart-wrenching melancholy mixed with hope, than ME has been able to do in this entire season.

Andrew and Anya at the hospital. Anya gets some lines about Jaws, which really only serve to set up a nice little exchange. Andrew is impressed with her movie knowledge and gushes, "You are the perfect woman," to which Anya modestly replies, "I've often thought so." Her delivery was lovely there. They head over to some shelving units to steal medical supplies. As they load their pillowcases, Andrew asks Anya why she hasn't just left town. There's an awfully long answer that boils down to Anya saying that people are totally screwed up, without a united purpose, and kill each other a lot. However, she concludes, "When it's something that really matters, they fight. I mean, they're lame morons for fighting, but they do! They never quit. So I guess I'll keep fighting too." Andrew is touched, and then teases Anya about how much she looooves humans. She gets all riled up and threatens to kill him if he tells anyone, which causes Andrew to say that he won't get the chance. He has the feeling that he won't survive week's episode, but he's "cool with it." Sad pause, and then Andrew suggests, "So, wheelchair fight?"

Quick shot of Andrew and Anya in wheelchairs, with surgical masks on their heads, battling away.

Graveyard. Buffy and The Little Red Axe That Could. She walks though an old vine-covered gate and finds an old vine-covered crypt shaped like a pyramid. So the consecrated ground of that graveyard contains a special unconsecrated area? Or something? Ah, why even worry about it at this point. Much, much more nonsensical events are soon to occur. Buffy kicks in the door of the crypt and walks down some stone stairs into a large underground area, conveniently lit by torches and braziers. The mystically eternal flames are just the tip of the nonsensical iceberg. Buffy checks out her surroundings -- round Egyptian columns, lots of large urns, possibly a mummy case or two. She's startled by a voice emanating from a fabric-covered niche right behind her. You'd think she might've noticed that and not, y'know, put her back to it. The voice says, "I'd forgotten," and I'm instantly jealous, because I imagine it's talking about the pain of sitting through Seasons Six and Seven. But nope, the female voice had actually "forgotten how young [the Slayer] would be." The woman parts the fabric hangings and steps out -- she's tall, blonde, and ancient in a youngish-person-with-tons-of-sun-damage sort of way. Perhaps Buffy's grand lesson here will be the value of always wearing sunscreen and a brimmed hat while outdoors during the day. What? She could learn worse lessons. We get no explanation of who this woman really is, so I'll call her Freya. Freya is the Norse goddess of both love and war, and I have hopes that this character will somehow fit the name. Plus, she as always my favorite as a child, because she had a chariot drawn by two gray cats.

Freya checks out the axe and says, "I see you've found our weapon." She also tells Buffy that she's the last one of many, and she's been waiting for Buffy. Buffy wants to know what Freya is, but the mysterious woman doesn't give a direct answer; she just implies that she's real and very, very old. Freya holds out her hands for the axe, and Buffy totally surprises me by handing it over. Then I caught my breath because I thought Freya might use it to lop Buffy's head off, which would've been a real shocker and an exciting development, but instead there's more talking. Of course. Freya claims to have been on the team that buried the axe in rock in Sunnydale for whatever inscrutable reason. Don't think we're getting an answer on anything here. Buffy wants to know what the shiny weapon is. I scare both Latch and Brit Boy by bursting out, "IT'S AN AXE, YOU MORON!" But no, Freya says it's a scythe. She obviously hasn't been reading her dictionary, or manuals of weaponry, while she's been waiting for centuries in her boring crypt. I guess a nice library wasn't part of the deal. Freya asks Buffy's name and gets all, "No, really," when she hears what it is, but with a name like Freya, I'm not sure where she gets off making fun of "Buffy." All aboard! Please hand your tickets to the conductor and join me on the Exposition Train, folks, because it's pulling out of the station now. Destination unknown, but on the way we'll go by the quaint village of The Shadow Men Became The Watchers, the rolling mountain range we call Freya's Folk Watched The Watchers, and the large metropolis of Freya Calls Herself A Guardian. Then she actually has the gall to say that she's one of many "women who want to help and protect [Buffy]." Man, is she full of shit or what? She "wanted" to help and protect Buffy, but what? She discovered soap operas, had a little TV installed in her crypt, and the time just flew while she was watching her stories instead of the Slayers? I've been watching this show for seven years, and I know for a fact that the "Guardians" didn't do a goddamn thing for Buffy, Faith, or Kendra. She didn't even know Buffy's name!

Breezing right past the fact that she's never lifted a finger to guard Buffy, Freya further explains that the Little Red Axe That Could was used centuries ago in the Sunnydale area to kill "the last pure demon that walked upon the Earth," and after that the "scythe" remained hidden. Totally perplexed, Buffy says she doesn't understand, and I'm right there with her. She's concerned that she didn't know about any of this, and I'm just shocked the writers would pull something so silly, meaningless, and useless out of their asses at the last minute like this. As far as I can tell, without having seen the series finale, this entire scene has zero bearing on what came before and what will come after. Handing back the weapon, Freya non-explains that she and her sisters "hid too" (for some reason, the losers), and that whether or not Buffy will win is up to Buffy herself. Isn't that always the case? Freya tells Buffy that she "already has weapons," and that the axe means "an end is truly near." Then two hands reach out from behind Freya and snap her neck. As her body falls to the ground, Buffy looks on, a tiny bit surprised. Caleb steps forward. I never thought I'd say this, but: Go, Caleb! Freya's whole "Guardians who don't guard because, uh, we hid instead" routine was so lame that I'm happy to see her quickly disposed of. And I'm sorry I gave her the name of a pretty cool goddess. I was speculating that she might be some ancient Slayer who figured out a way to pass on her powers without dying and had fought her way to Sunnydale to give the knowledge to Buffy. I never figured she'd be a total non-entity. Sheesh. Caleb wants to clarify whether Freya said the "end is near, or [the end is] here." Don't even bother to wonder how Caleb got in there without the Slayer or her purported Guardian noticing, or whether he was there all along. It will only give you a headache and make you sad. Or maybe that's the whiskey talking. No, I thought about it. It's the show.

Xander is driving down a dark, foggy highway. Dawn, in the passenger seat, starts to wake up. I notice that Xander put her seatbelt on her. Because dosing someone with dangerous chemicals is no excuse to ignore road safety laws. Dawn is disoriented, so Xander admits to her that he chloroformed her. Understandably, Dawn is rather angry about the experience. She wants to know where they're headed, and Xander just answers, "Away." He then hands her a sealed letter from Buffy. There's a Buffy voice-over as Dawn reads the note; Buffy urges Dawn not to be angry with Xander, and saccharines on about showing Dawn the world and doing everything for her. But hilariously, the sappy voice-over is interrupted by Dawn suddenly tasering Xander right in the neck. Any action that truncates one of Buffy's speeches is okay with me, but we really could've used that taser MUCH earlier in the season. Somehow Dawn pulls the car over, gets Xander into the passenger seat (I assume), and turns around to head back to Sunnydale.

Buffy and Caleb fight. Buffy is her usual Season Seven overly serious self, and Caleb taunts her. The fight is the usual poorly choreographed, unconvincing stuff. Caleb's punches and kicks are so far from looking like they're connecting with Buffy's head that I'm starting to believe he wasn't even on the set at the time. It's like he was down at craft services while SMG flailed around, pretending to get her ass kicked. The Little Red Axe That Could makes high-pitched whining noises when Buffy swings it, which is a little jarring to me, because I associate that sound effect with a much thinner, springy blade like a rapier. Buffy forgets the Important Lesson she learned about dodging just a few hours ago, so Caleb knocks Buffy into the crypt wall and leans down to pick up the axe. At the top of the screen I can see a strange shadow waving back and forth. Shadow of the boom microphone, maybe? Strange. Take a look and see if you can catch it yourselves. Anyway, the fighting continues. The axe doesn't seem to give Buffy any special advantages. Also, it looks like Caleb can wield the axe if he gets his hands on it, which is a little disappointing, considering the inscription Spike and Andrew found at Ajo Sagrado. So Caleb gets a hold of the axe and is about to chop Buffy into little messes when he's stopped by a punch to the jaw. It's Angel, come to save the day.

Angel smiles down at Buffy, and he's filmed as such the hero-saves-the-day-guy that I expect a little sparkle on his teeth to go "bling!" Buffy gapes at Angel and then accepts a hand up. Romantic music billows and swoons around on the soundtrack as Angel tells Buffy she looks good, and she smiles and tells him he looks both good and "timely." There's a whole lotta eye contact until Caleb starts stirring and getting up. Angel steps towards him, but Buffy gestures to stop him. They agree that it's something she "need to finish [herself]." Wow, look at Buffy really smiling. When was the last time we saw that? Angel steps back and leans up against a column, telling Caleb, "You are so gonna lose." More Buffy and Caleb fighting, which Angel thoroughly enjoys. Buffy slashes Caleb across the gut with the axe, which makes him laugh all villainously. Until his knees give out and he falls down all dead-eyed, that is. Buffy's all, "See? Under control," and Angel saunters over, smiling, "At least you could tell me you're glad to see me." She drops the fire axe andBuffy attaches her face to Angel's mouth. What's she doing?! OH MY GOD! She's trying to suck his SOUL! Through his mouth! I knew there was something really wrong with her the past few seasons. Oh, wait. Heh. This is a little embarrassing. It appears that they are just kissing and I overreacted a little. Okay, carry on. Pan over to the shadows, where Spike's lurking, cheekbones writhing in misery. First Buffy found this long-hidden crypt, then Caleb, then Angel, and now Spike? For a centuries-old hiding place of mystically useless Guardians, it's pretty hopping tonight. Pan a little further, and we see that Spike has been joined by First Buffy, who snaps, "That bitch!" Close-up on Spike, staring. There's only one more episode of Buffy and I'm supposed to be all on tenterhooks about a Paleozoic love triangle? As if.

Well, kids. It's time for me to take a little bow and exit stage left. It's been an interesting four years, and I'd like to thank everyone who stuck with me and continued reading. In an ideal world I'd say something eloquent and witty here, but why break with tradition now?