Dawn is supine on her bed when Buffy comes to confront her about the outfit. Buffy goes to sit by Dawn on the bed, and reassures her that things will be brighter in the morning, especially as she doesn't really even know this guy. "I do know him," protests Dawn, sitting up. "I know his soul." I check the remote to make sure that I haven't accidentally changed the channel to the WB and gone forward in time to Wednesday at 8:00 PM. Nope -- I'm still watching Buffy, not Dawson's Creek. Which, by the way, is how I'd like to keep it, so maybe the writers could just LAY OFF THE CRACK. I mean, I know that they're trying to lampoon shows like DC here. And, to borrow possibly the most overused phrase this season, I get that. I really do. But maybe what the staff of ME needs to realize is that, after turning what was once an irreverent and creatively fresh teen drama into the steaming pile of excrement that was last season, after "Wrecked" and "Two To Go" and "Grave," after transforming brilliantly clever metaphors into "Gay now!" and taking every opportunity for a cheap breast joke, they lost the right to lampoon anything. And frankly, they have a lot more work to do before they're going to be able to earn that right back. So. Back to the lack of action. "It's love," insists Dawn, before turning on Buffy and telling her that she's too dysfunctional to understand what real love is. "Just go. Leave me alone." I was waiting for a classic, "Get out. Get out. GET OUT!" but it was not to be.