Giant horned teddy bears in Buenos Aires. Ice Demons in Ontario. Flying centipedes swarming the Leaning Tower of Pisa. As demon expert Graham Miller shares his views on the news, Buffy and Spike – curled up together on the bed – can tell straight away: the incursions aren’t just escalating. They’ve gone mainstream.

Buffy closes the laptop, guilt already creeping in. She blames herself for letting the Restless Door fall into enemy hands. While D’Hoffryn and the Magic Council chase answers, Buffy’s thinking ahead. They need a new strategy. But before she can finish the thought, there’s a knock at the door.

She doesn’t look. She’s expecting food.

Instead, she finds Satsu.

Buffy freezes, flustered as she lets her former lover inside. Spike, still half-dressed, remembers meeting the new Slayer briefly during the Twilight affair. He glances down, realising his state of undress. Buffy tries to cover up their involvement, but Satsu stops her. It’s been a while, she explains. She’s moved on. No need to explain about her and Spike. She asks if Spike knows about their liaison.

Spike tells her that he does. He wouldn’t mind hearing about it, he jokes.

Buffy tells him not to dare.

She turns to Satsu. “Why are you here?”

Satsu grins. “Buffy, I want you,” she says. “To help the US Army.”

Buffy stops cold. The Army? The same Army that declared war on her and her organisation? The same Army that tried to kill her and all her friends?

Satsu tells her the people behind that are no longer in command. And besides – if Buffy can forgive Angel, then the Army can change too. She adds that her other ex, Riley, has already returned to work with them.

Spike begins a Riley-shaped insult, but Buffy shuts him down with a look.

She’s adamant. “They killed our sisters. Friends who died in our arms. I can’t believe you, of all people, forgot that.”

Satsu’s expression hardens. She hasn’t forgotten. She sees them every time she closes her eyes. But that was the past. The present needs help. The centipedes killed over 300 in Rome. School kids. Senior citizens. Whole families. The bits the news isn’t showing.

Buffy is stunned into silence.

Satsu continues. “For every demon incursion you know about, there’s three the military dealt with before anyone got hurt. They take the supernatural seriously. They have resources nobody else does – on a much vaster scale. They’re the only ones who can handle this.”

But they’re still overwhelmed. They need people with experience. And Satsu can think of nobody better than Buffy Summers.

Buffy insists she doesn’t trust them. She doesn’t take orders. She’s not sure she’ll make much difference.

But Satsu says there’s one thing Buffy can do that they cannot.

They need her to bring the vampires over to their side.

Shortly afterward, in his apartment, Giles explains that some portals occur naturally – places where the barriers between dimensions are thinner. A Hellmouth, for example.

“But the Restless Door is of concern,” he says, “because it can open portals anywhere, between any two dimensions, in any location. Because it was created in a Hell dimension, it is not bound by the laws of our reality.”

The Mistress. The Soul Glutton. The Sculptor. Working together now, consolidating power.

Buffy still doesn’t think anyone in the Army is going to listen to her. She’s mid-sentence when a sound outside interrupts – low, fast, and unmistakable.

A chopper. Getting closer.

Their ride. Satsu doesn’t flinch. “They specifically asked for you,” she says.

Onboard the chopper, Satsu explains that they’ve reached out to both vampire factions. A one-time meet has been arranged – but only with Buffy and Spike.

Buffy raises an eyebrow. “Whose clever idea was that?”

She doesn’t get an answer. Instead, she’s stunned by the Vegas skyline below, where a massive display flashes across the buildings.

“Welcome to VampCon,” says the sign. The face saying it is Harmony Kendall.

Touching down on the roof of a resort, Buffy and Spike are greeted by Harmony – riding a unicorn, flanked by toga-clad men, and accompanied by Vicki the vampire.

Buffy greets them with minimal enthusiasm. Harmony, however, has enough for everyone. She squeals in delight at her old acquaintances. Spike reminds her they’re not pals, but Harmony waves it off.

They got unicorns out of it, she reminds him. He can’t still be touchy about it, surely?

Vicki steps forward, commanding Satsu away. “What we have to say, we’ll say to Buffy.”

She mocks Satsu as the chopper lifts off, earning a disgusted look from Buffy.

In Harmony’s glamorous and cavernous suite, Clem sits with his laptop open, typing notes. Harmony lounges in the tub, bubbles and bravado in equal measure. Buffy doesn’t waste time.

They hate each other. Fine. But they have to put it aside.

The vampires win either way: public acceptance and a peace treaty with the Slayer and the Military. In exchange, the vampires help fight the demon strikes.

Vicki cuts her off. They’re all in. Even Harmony. They know the stakes. Band together or face destruction. But they’ll need to sell it to their own people – who aren’t exactly known for playing well with others.

Harmony says her vampires are traditional. Vicki claims hers are adversarial. They both propose a trial by combat. At the same time.

Spike groans audibly.

Buffy blinks. “Trials by combat are an actual thing?” Spike mutters, “The writers stole it from us.”

Harmony lights up. She thinks it’s perfect. Vegas, entertainment, drinks, laughter. “You guys beat our champions – one from the old-school vampires, one from the new – and we have a deal: we’ll help fight the demon incursions. You lose and everyone leaves with fond memories.”

She says it like she’s chairing a prom committee.

Buffy looks at Spike. A cage lights up on a stage at the centre of a vast theatre. Harmony grins. “You ready?”

The next night, Clem takes the mic as MC. He announces Buffy to the stage. The crowd boos.

Her opponent is from the new breed. Golgotha. Four hundred and eighty pounds of vampire muscle. Bigger than average. Bigger than a house, she thinks. And he’s carrying a wicked mace.

They strike at once – mace against Scythe, sparks flying.

From the audience, Harmony leans toward Spike. “So… you and Buffy?”

Spike shuts her down. “None of your business.”

But Harmony keeps watching Buffy in the arena.

“Look at her,” she says, smiling. “You can’t handle a woman like that.” She keeps going, needling him with that same smug smile. But Spike gets up and walks away. “I’ve changed,” he says.

“Fine. Then I’m totally wrong. You didn’t worship her. Didn’t build her up as some impossible ideal of womanhood and virtue and love. Something no real person could ever be. You’re not starting to understand how much of what you loved was a fantasy, now that the reality’s crashing down on you.”

She knows he’ll never admit she’s right. But she knows him too well.

“You’ll just do things to push her away,” she adds, lifting her champagne glass of blood, her horrendous puppy tucked under one arm. “To make her unhappy. So she’s the one who ends it.”

In the cage, Buffy launches herself into the air, twisting mid-flight. She drives the point of the Scythe straight into Golgotha’s chest. The vampire turns to dust in a flash.

In the stands, Harmony keeps going.

Drusilla. Cecily-something. The chick whose picture he keeps in his poetry notebook. Spike has a pattern.

That’s enough.

Spike’s face shifts, rage flashing in his eyes, voice low and growly. “That’s enough! You’re wrong! You’re wrong about me and you’re wrong about us! And I swear if you don’t bloody well shut your mouth, I’ll shut it for you.”

Harmony, still surrounded by her followers, looks down from her higher seat.

“Easy, boys,” she says, as Spike gets closer. “He’s just the sensitive type. But he knows he needs to save it for the ring.” She glances at the cage. “’Cause the little woman just won her round.”

When Buffy returns to the combatants’ lounge, Spike congratulates her. She drops into a seat beside Vicki as Spike steps into the arena.

She’s confident.

Vicki notices and wants to know why. Buffy smiles. He’s angry. He’ll wipe the floor with his opponent.

Vicki gives her a sideways look and smirks. “Think you have a point. Look at him. You can take the vamp out of the crypt, but you can’t take the monster out of the vamp.”

Buffy doesn’t flinch. She warns the vampire against trying to cause issues between her and Spike.

But even as they watch, Spike fights with bloodlust and fury. And he does seem to be enjoying it.

Vicki shrugs. She doesn’t have to cause any issues. She’ll get rid of him herself, eventually. She turns to Buffy, that bitchy smirk back in place.

“You’re the kinda gal who wants what you can’t have and gets bored with what you can, am I right? Lucky for you, there’s an easy way out.”

She nods toward the cage, where Spike is pounding on his opponent. “Just pretend to be all shocked when he starts acting like what he is. Say he’s turned evil, stab him, and send him to Hell.”

When Spike doesn’t kill the vampire, Vicki cackles. “You should focus on the fact that Blondie Bear didn’t dust him. Tell yourself it’s because he’s a good guy now.”

Buffy finally snaps. She’s held her temper long enough. She warns Vicki to shut up – or she’ll stake her.

Before it escalates, Harmony steps in, all smiles and command. She tells them to be polite and civil: Spike has won. They have a deal. When Spike enters, Buffy is still fuming. She grabs her jacket and the Scythe, pushing him toward the exit.

She turns to Harmony and tells her the military will be in touch. She’s done her part. She just wants to go home.

After the Slayer and Spike leave, Harmony and Vicki high-five. To their surprise, they make a pretty good team.

On the chopper back to San Francisco, Buffy warns Satsu not to trust the vampires. They will betray them.

Satsu’s just glad the treaty’s in place. She asks if Buffy and Spike are okay. They both lie.

As the sun rises, the chopper continues through the sky in near-deathly silence, broken only by the whirring of the rotors.

The next night, Spike walks into a bar. He sits at a booth, eyes scanning the woman across from him.

“I wasn’t sure if I should come,” he says.

A dark, attractive woman lifts her drink. “It’s good to see you, Dylan,” Spike smiles.

The woman smiles back. “You too, Spike,” she says, a twinkle in her eye.