In the bright light of the San Francisco sun, Buffy Summers and Willow Rosenberg don’t say much to each other the whole journey back into the city by bus. There isn’t much to say. When the vehicle brakes to a halt, the passengers disembark and Buffy is delighted to see Dawn and Xander waiting for them. The sisters wrap their arms around each other. Dawn is shouting, rather loudly — a sure sign she’s deliriously happy to see them home.

Xander, for his part, seems more disappointed that his view of women in prison is not as stereotypical as TV promised, and that they haven’t received tattoos. He jokes that he’s been lied to.

Buffy pulls the Scythe from the luggage compartment and Xander notes the grunt she makes when she lifts it. “The place did leave a few marks.”

“Wow,” Xander says, watching her. “They really did drain your powers. Is that, like, permanent, or…”

Buffy shoots him a look. They’ll talk inside. Looking up, the four of them see two drones in the sky above, recording their every move. Big Brother is definitely watching.

Inside, an hour later, Dawn tries to be discreet as she peers through the apartment window. “The drones are still out there,” she sighs. “Still hovering.”

Willow assures her that with them blaring out Taylor Swift, she’s sure the drones can’t hear them — but they’re more likely there to remind them they’re being watched than to spy. Xander isn’t sure he sees the distinction.

Buffy, her hair wrapped in a towel and finally in comfortable clothing, stuffs another doughnut into her mouth. Willow smiles at her. “Might want to take it easy,” she nudges. “Powerless Buffy might have limits to how many of those she can down without puking.”

Buffy stops eating and puts the treat down, bringing her hands to her head. “It’s just… there are moments when I forget, y’know?” There’s a sadness in her voice. Xander tries to change the tone, asking what the plan is — how do they get their powers back? He wonders if he should call Giles at school, but Buffy doesn’t want the Watcher at risk too.

Dawn understands, but they can’t just accept what’s happened — and Spike is still trapped inside.

Buffy doesn’t know what to say. “They’re watching to see if we do anything suspicious right now. The plan is for all of us to be boring and ordinary.” She heads towards her room to change. “Later… we’ll see.” Dawn and Xander look at each other as she goes, clearly concerned about the Slayer.

That evening, in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park, Buffy is jogging when she’s pulled from her thoughts. She sees a man approach a girl — one who looks familiar. He’s being aggressive, and Buffy’s mind snaps back to the camp in an instant. The girl was one of Willow’s Coven.

The man grabs her violently by the wrists, telling the smaller girl that everyone saw her today being escorted by police. He suggests she be nicer to people, just in case they tell the police something they shouldn’t, and with a dark glint in his eyes, he pulls her closer.

“Hey.” Buffy’s voice is commanding, despite the man’s build. “Do we need to go over what ‘no’ means? Because I promise you won’t like my lesson plan.”

The Wiccan runs. The guy turns to Buffy, fists clenched. “What are you going to do about it? You’re just a girl.”

He sneers as Buffy realises he knows her. “That’s right. I’m local,” he grins. “I know who you are. And who you aren’t anymore.” He warns her that he fights MMA and he’s twice her size. He gives her a chance to leave before it turns bad for her.

Buffy scoffs. “If you think I’m some kind of fragile flower all of a sudden, you’re the one who’s in for a rough night. I trained for years. I’ve got actual combat experience. That doesn’t just go away.”

The man stops and smiles. “Interesting point.” He raises a hand to his chin. “Let’s find out what stays and what goes.”

Buffy prepares for his strike. She tells him she’s curious herself.

They race towards each other as fast as they can. As he reaches her, he swings — but Buffy sees the blow coming, ducks out of the way, and kicks him square in the gut. She swings, but it doesn’t have much effect on his face. It does draw blood.

Buffy looks at him, slightly concerned, watching his reaction as he wipes his lip where she struck.

She aims another kick — and is stunned when he catches her foot, swings, and punches her in the face, bruising her almost instantly.

The sudden shock knocks the wind out of her. For a moment she stands there, trying to steady herself, failing completely. She falls to the ground and lapses into unconsciousness.

The big guy looks over her and cracks his knuckles at the helpless Slayer at his feet. “That’s what I thought,” he sneers.

He brings his leg back, aiming his boot at Buffy’s stomach as she stirs on the grass. “You messed up, baby girl,” he taunts as he kicks — but Buffy rolls out of the way before his foot lands. She trips him and he falls flat on his back. Straddling him, Buffy begins to punch him in the face. Once. Twice. His groans echo under her fists. A third strike, and he’s out.

But Buffy doesn’t stop.

All the aggression, all the anger… all the pain of the last few weeks is etched on her face, her teeth clenched as she continues to pummel the unconscious jerk. She thinks of Spike. Her eyes tear up. Her cheek throbs. But still she hits him, his blood pooling on her fist.

Suddenly, she stops. She’s lost count of her punches. She looks down at him — first in anger, then in disbelief. She rises slowly and looks at her hands, covered in blood. His blood. She is horrified.

She runs as fast as her legs will carry her, off the main path and into the dark. She leans against a tree and lets the emotion take over, her tears mixing with her own blood as her wounds begin to throb.

Elsewhere, out in the city grabbing supplies, Willow stops outside a market. Calliope and her partner Linda are passing the store. She tentatively calls Calliope’s name — more in shock than desire.

Calliope stops and squeals in delight. Linda waves. “Willow! You’re back! Why didn’t you tell me you’re back?” Willow explains it’s only been days. Calliope looks at her teacher. She seems less vibrant.

“Still getting used to freedom,” she says, the drones whirring above. “Or a reasonable facsimile.” Linda nudges her — they have a movie to catch. Willow tells them they’ll catch up soon and smiles. As Calliope heads off, Willow murmurs, “It really is two different worlds, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” Calliope says, leaving everything else unsaid. Linda puts an arm around her and guides her away, leaving Willow alone. “You guys have fun,” she sighs, despondent.

At home, Dawn is raising her voice at Buffy. “You have to go to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”

Buffy winces as the icy cloth touches her black eye. “No hospital. I’d probably get arrested. Might anyway. I’ll be fine. This’ll heal in a few…” She hesitates. “How long does it take for stuff like this to heal for you guys?”

Xander approaches and pokes her nose. “Nose doesn’t seem broken. You’ve got a nice shiner. Might end up with scars. Reckon you’ll feel like crap for a few days.”

Buffy pushes his finger away. “Thanks. You can stop messing with my face now.”

“Consider this a minor hiccup,” Xander grins. “When we get your powers back, you’ll be healing like Wolverine again!”

“Yeah,” Buffy sighs, unable to share his enthusiasm. He turns to Willow. “You gonna let us in on your plan for that, or…?”

Willow shakes her head. “It’s better we don’t.”

Dawn shakes her head again, insisting Spike not be left inside the camp. Buffy assures her that Spike is her priority. Her phone rings in her pocket. “Look, this is him calling now,” she says, reaching for it. “He’ll want to talk to you too, so don’t tell him about my Fight Club makeover. I don’t want him to worry.”

She gets up and walks to the living area, answering as she goes. Willow looks at Dawn with a soft smile. “There is a plan, I promise. We just don’t want it blowing back on you guys when… I mean, if… something goes wrong.”

A few days pass uneventfully. Everything is quiet on the news. In their room, Dawn is talking to Xander, stroking a cat as two more climb over him like he’s a climbing frame.

“Buffy seems so deflated. Like the life’s gone out of her.”

Xander agrees, adding that he hasn’t seen Willow this cut off and computer‑mad in a long time. “Maybe that’s all they’ll need,” he says, not believing his own words for a second.

A knock at the door gets his attention. “They deserve some space. But if this keeps up, we might need to stage an intervention.”

He answers with a smile that isn’t entirely sincere. “Oh, hi. Riley. Wife of Riley.”

The Finns stand in the doorway, smiling warmly. Sam grins. “Sam. An actual human being, existing separately from my husband. Though I do appreciate the play on words.” Riley asks after Buffy and Willow — no time wasted.

“Depends,” Xander says. “Are you here as friends? Or parole officers?” It sounds like a joke, but Riley knows him well enough to hear the bitterness underneath. Sam doesn’t notices the tension — or chooses to ignore it — and shifts the subject. “We’re on leave,” she explains. “But, yeah, we were asked to check in. So a little of both.”

Buffy, her black eye stark in the apartment light, approaches from her room. “We were expecting them,” she says, Willow right behind her.

“I saw the drone video of your altercation, but it looks worse up close,” Riley says, concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I guess I have you to thank for not getting arrested.”

“I just pointed out it was clearly self‑defence. And the guy has a record.”

Sam eyes Buffy carefully. “Truth is, the brass didn’t push it. They seemed to like your meltdown afterward. What was that about?”

Buffy hadn’t heard or seen the drones. She looks down, embarrassed that her loss of control was witnessed. “Realising I could have killed him. And he could have killed me.”

Sam asks how that’s different from the demons and vampires she’s used to.

“It just is. I don’t have to justify my feelings to you.” Buffy doesn’t raise her voice, but her tone sharpens. Riley immediately diverts. “Anyway. It’ll all be fine soon. This isn’t just a check‑in. It’s time.”

Dawn sits up excitedly. “I knew it! I knew you were with the good guys. What are we doing?”

Her face falls when Sam answers. “You two are leaving the country. The government’s draining magic from people, and magic is the only thing keeping you alive, young lady. Buffy had you prep go‑bags, right? Well, get them. We’ve got fake IDs for you.”

Buffy looks at Willow, then back at Sam. “Actually…” she hesitates. “We’re not so sure it’s time.” Willow suggests waiting a little longer.

Riley says they don’t have time. The government could move early. They’ve cut their shore leave. Sam tells him to forget it — the Slayer won’t be able to help. “Without powers, they’re nothing.”

Buffy stays silent, knowing Sam is trying to provoke her. Her friends don’t. Xander bristles, pointing at Sam while keeping an eye on Riley. “That’s out of line. And wrong.”

Buffy steps between them before anything escalates. “Don’t blame Willow for my problems,” she says to Sam. “She’s never needed magic to be amazing. She’s smart and kind. She sees the big picture but never loses sight of how it affects everyone. And draining her magic didn’t affect her computer skills, which she’s been turning to pretty good use lately. I’m the one who’s useless now.”

Silence fills the room.

“Except that’s a load of crap,” Willow says, surprising Buffy. “Your powers aren’t why you never give up. Why you refuse to leave anyone behind. Why you never accept anything less than what you know is right.”

She leans her elbow on Buffy’s shoulder and smiles. “Why have you done things no other Slayer in history ever did, even though they had the exact same abilities? That’s you, Buffy. That’s who you are.”

Sam smiles — her ploy worked. “Okay then. Maybe we can actually pull this off.”

Buffy thanks her for the mind games. “It helped.” Riley nods. “I hope so, because once I press send on the old burner phone, there’s no going back.” He holds it up, finger hovering. “So, once and for all — are you in?”

Buffy and Willow smile at each other and answer together. Dawn agrees too, but Xander reminds her she’s leaving the country. Dawn threatens to break his knees. Riley presses the button. “Then let’s do this.”

Outside the apartment, two drones hover, listening devices blinking.

Then someone lands on one and impales it with a weapon. Sparks fly as the drone drops, its attacker flipping backwards onto the second drone before the first explodes.

The figure tears the second drone apart with bare hands, sending it crashing to the pavement in a burst of flame. By then, the attacker has already flipped onto the fire escape, moving with impossible grace.

Two hands push open a window. The figure slips inside. Buffy and the others stare, stunned.

The hood comes down.

Faith the Vampire Slayer.

“What up,” she grins, Boston accent thick. “Everyone down with the revolution?”

Buffy stares at her, barely breathing. She whispers the name like it might vanish. “Faith?”

Faith walks toward her former rival, shrugging. She hitched a ride with Kennedy. Buffy insists she should be safe in London. Faith laughs. “Me and safe ain’t exactly buds. Me and Riley, on the other hand, balanced some karma recently. And hey, I know we’re not besties or anything, but you’re my dog, y’know?”

Buffy doesn’t answer. She just looks at Faith and pulls her into a hug, whispering thank you.

“And a nice moment gets awkward,” Faith jokes, but not hugging her back. Riley’s phone beeps — confirmation. “The brass knows the drones are down. We have to move.”

He tells them to leave behind anything traceable. Buffy hands Dawn a piece of paper. “You and Xander drop the cats at the sitter’s, then meet us at this address in two days. If the cops catch up, tell them what you know.”

“Which is pretty much nothing. Oh. Good call!”

Buffy hands Faith the Scythe. “You better take this.”

Faith takes it, uneasy. “Let’s say ‘borrow’. I’ll give it back.”

Buffy smiles. “Deal. Fingers crossed you get the chance.”

An hour later, with the moon high in the sky, the two Slayers, the Finns, and Willow travel along a back road toward the Safe Zone. Willow smiles as she surprises the car’s passengers — she’s hacked into the Safe Zone’s computers. A few clicks, and the Safe Zone’s computers are disabled. Faith is impressed.

When their car reaches the booth at the compound entrance, Sam presents her and Riley’s credentials. The guard stops her. With the systems down, he can’t access anything and therefore can’t allow them on site. Sam appeals to his better nature, calling him by his first name like they’re old friends.

“It’s been a long drive. We could use the facilities.”

He studies her face again. He recognises her — or at least claims to. He checks that his scanners are still working and lets them through the gate. She warns him the scanner will pick up magic in the car — they have a Slayer with them, on loan from DeepScan.

He nods. “We have lots of Slayers here. As long as her powers stay within acceptable levels…” The machine beeps. “And it’s all good. They are.”

Once inside the compound perimeter, Faith retrieves a case from the back of the car. She’s surprised the plan worked. Buffy smiles. It’s Andrew’s Faraday case — the one used to block magic. Faith retrieves the Scythe and twirls it in her arm. The whistle raises a smile. Buffy thanks Riley and Sam for getting them in. They’ll be quick.

Riley isn’t worried. “Even if they catch us, there are more people who agree with us in the chain of command than you might think.” He promises to keep as much heat off them as possible. He asks Willow how long before things start. Willow looks away.

She waits a second, maybe two. Then, without turning back, she whispers, “Now.”

Riley slams his foot on the pedal, spinning the car around and racing back toward the guard hut at dangerous speed. The car smashes through the barrier and alarms erupt. The guard is stunned; voices rise in panic.

Faith knocks two guards unconscious by bashing their heads together with a satisfying clunk. Using her Slayer strength and speed, she gets Buffy and Willow past the guards and into the building.

Inside, Buffy and Willow edge quietly around the administration block, the power‑drainer room directly ahead. Buffy whispers that there’s no way to avoid an alarm here. Faith asks if the device works in reverse. Willow is pretty sure she can figure it out. Faith nods and boots the door down with her size fives. “Then let’s hustle. Fast or fail.”

The lights flick on, triggered by a sensor.

To Buffy and Faith’s shock, Jordan the Vampire Slayer and her group stand waiting, knuckles cracking, fists clenched. Jordan smiles.

“I’m gonna go with option two,” she declares.