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.