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Wrecked (Ep. 6.10)"Naked Truth" A cartoon is playing on the television. Maybe it's a Saturday morning. Dawn and Tara wake up in a patch of sunlight on the couch where they fell asleep last night. Nobody came home to wake them. The pair explore the empty Summers house with an uneasy feeling. Where is everybody? Well, last we saw Willow, she was on the town with Amy, turning partygoers at the Bronze into magical fairies and dancing elves. Last we saw Buffy, well... . . . In the now sun-washed ruined basement of the abandoned house, we arrive at the literal morning after. For those of you tuning in late, Buffy and Spike have finally Done It. Had sex. All night. "When did the building fall down?" Buffy asks in a small voice, holding her skirt across her naked body. It's no wonder she's confused - in the psychological model of the mind that the house represents, Buffy has awakened in the basement of her own id. The upstairs rooms of the rational ego and superego ("the ego telling [us] what we can't have and the superego telling [us] what we shouldn't want" as Maggie Walsh lectures in Season 4) have completely collapsed. "Smashed" was a courageous episode to say the least. The R-rated quality of the consummation scene aside, the bald assertion that violence and sex can inhabit the same space inside a person is daring even for BtVS - a show that's always been willing to probe uncomfortable areas. "Wrecked," although less effective for having to share story time with Willow's descent into magick junkiedom and preachy aftermath, shines in the short segments where it tackles Buffy's attitudes to sex. The groundwork for these revelations has been laid throughout the series - we are seeing multiple hints that have been dropped in previous seasons finally coming home to roost. Just as "Fool For Love" cast new light on everything we knew about Spike and his personality by revealing his bookish past, "Wrecked" similarly gives Buffy a dimension that simultaneously disturbs and fits neatly into what we already know of her character. In "Smashed," Buffy took as a lover her former mortal enemy, a vampire, one she's repeatedly beaten down and humiliated. The heroic Buffy who sacrificed her life for her friends would never have considered Spike for a sex partner, but the post-resurrection Buffy who "came back wrong" (interestingly, the issue of Buffy's wrongness does not even come up during this episode) is so desperate to feel something that she's willing to take the comfort he offers. With both hands, and orgasms on the side.
But before we get too far into analyzing the Buffy/Spike morning-after conversation (which is absolutely worth analzying at length - there's some amazing ground covered in this one scene), let's take a look at what's going on with Willow. New magicfriend/witch/former rat Amy has become Willow's bad influence in Tara's absence, taking her down a dark path of degredation in search of cheap kicks, all the way to a crummy magic crackhouse run by skanky warlock Rack. "This guy will blow your mind," Amy chirps. "He will take you to places that you can't even imagine." Willow's question about possible danger is met with knowing dismissal - "would that stop you?" No, it might have stopped the old Willow, but it does not stop the new, powerful WitchWillow. She quickly goes from getting high on creepy spells that leave her crawling on ceilings like a coked-up Spider-Man and seeing monsters lurking in flourescent bushes to having symptoms of actual physical withdrawal; nausea and shakes. If in previous episodes you thought that Willow's addiction was actually to the power she gains from magic, guess what? It was really just the rush. Uh-huh. To be fair, it's possible to read Willow's heavy-handed fall from grace (at least jazzed up with interesting music and Twin Peaks-like imagery) as a mental breakdown. She has, after all, just discovered that she has hurt her best friend (Buffy) beyond belief by resurrecting her from the dead and snatching her from the clutches of heavenly peace, and attempting to use magic to fix the problem caused her lover (Tara) to leave her. In the wake of these issues, and her own questions about who and what she is, you could make a fair case for Willow opting for a "tune in, turn on, drop out" option. Unfortunately, the way the episode plays out is more "Willow has a problem," a.k.a. "drugs are bad." I can only hope that in future episodes, we will see a different take on Willow's fear-and-loathing odyssey, one that will return to the real issues she is facing. We've seen her proven capable of doing monstrous, unfeeling, manipulative things, and she has been dabbling with dark forces beyond her understanding for some time. Surely the ultimate bad to come from all this is not the DTs. Amy is actually the more interesting character study here. Her return from the realm of rodentkind is not totally unlike Buffy's return from death, and her reactions are fairly similar - strange humor, oddly disjointed behaviour, and a tendency to drown her fear and disorientation with intense experiences. Amy opts to party hard and seek out magical highs; Buffy gets herself laid by the person she once told "it would never be you." So. Back to The Morning After. Buffy can't get into her clothes fast enough. Spike lounges comfortably without. Like the crumbling house from the previous episode, NakedSpike works on more than one level: pure fan service - viewers who find James Marsters easy on the eyes won't find him any harder to look at au naturel - and the all-important psychological effect his nakedness has on Buffy. She is unable to look directly at him, unable to face the stark reality of what they've done. She is keen to escape the scene of the crime and put an end to what she terms "this freak show." Buffy's remorse over her wild night of passion is predictable. What is surprising, then, are her very ambigious reactions throughout this scene. She is not, actually, wallowing in shame. When swept into NakedSpike's lap for a little seductive persuasion, she responds with heat. It's only her stung pride - his unfinished remark about [sex with the Slayer] being the only thing better than killing the Slayer - that drives her out of his arms, spitting with anger. She doesn't want to see herself as a notch on his belt, his "third Slayer," the one that instead of killing, he found a different way to score. Verbally, she hits back. When he snarks that "vampires get you hot," she flings at him that "A vampire got me hot. One. And he's gone. You're just... convenient." But she struggles with this insult, and indeed all the barbs she hurls. Buffy is clearly not as disgusted by the previous night as she would like to pretend. When Spike tries to stop her from leaving, she puts up a very halfhearted resistance. The usually witty Buffy repartee is reduced to the likes of "shut up" and "you're bent." She has no real ammunition in this battle, and she knows it. The balance of power between the two of them has changed. By sleeping with him, Buffy has given Spike far more than the "crumb" he begged her for in "Crush." In essence, she's confirmed every suspicion he's ever had about her real desires. "I know where you live now, I've tasted it" Spike tells her, clearly believing that she doth protest far too much. "I may be dirt, but you like to roll in it." If anything, he seems disappointed by her need to make flimsy denials to keep up the "good girl" facade. Post-coital Spike shows not a trace of his previous insecurity. "You never had it so good as me, never," he tells her arrogantly. He also tells her in no uncertain terms that things have changed, that he's not hanging around to be her "whipping boy," to scratch her itch whenever she wants it - she'll have to come to him. And it's pretty clear he expects her to do just that ("made you scream, didn't it?" he smiles). Her protests get downright strident. "I swear to god," she proclaims like an operatic diva, "if you tell anyone about last night, I will kill you." "Right." he drawls. Yeah, Buffy, I believe you too. Buffy and Willow show up at home within minutes of each other to face the music for their respective nights of indiscretion. A laughing Willow is brought up short by the sight of Tara; Amy promptly makes the uncomfortable moment even worse by babbling about what a "freaking amazing witch" Willow is, and the details of their magic-casting fun-fest. Willow can only watch helplessly, guilt clearly etched on her face, as a mortified Tara hurries away. Buffy then limps into the kitchen, sporting quite a few bruises, transparently claiming to have been in a fight, "the all-nighter kind." "You guys are probably safe," Buffy says thoughtfully, realizing no doubt that, unlike Angel, no kill-crazed Spike is going to show up at her house to wring the neck of Miss Kitty Fantastico. After checking that Dawn is indeed okay, both she and Willow head upstairs to crash, leaving Dawn alone in the kitchen. "I'll just go find some awake people," Dawn grumbles. Deep in the throes of her new guilt, Buffy isn't up to noticing Dawn's problems... or Willow's either for that matter. Sitting in the Magic Box (still researching the alleged "frost demon") with Xander and Anya, she interprets a conversation about Willow as applying to herself. "She's going through something, but we're not her... maybe she has reasons for acting this way... so what if she crossed a line? We all do stuff. Stupid stuff. But then we learn, and we don't do it again. Who are we to get all judgey?" Buffy pulled exactly this same overidentification trick in the previous episode - in fact, Buffy has quite the history of seeing her own problems as the center of any situation. In this case, she seems eager to come up with a rationale for her one-time-only I-shagged-an-evil-vampire event that will somehow cover her ass when, in the fishbowl that is Buffy's love life, her sexcapades become public knowledge. Who are we to get all judgey indeed. Later that evening, Willow decides to make things up to Dawn by taking her to the movies. This of course ends badly, with an unscheduled stop at the magically cloaked crackhouse, and an unintended demon-summoning. Oh, Willow. Woe is you. Meanwhile, Buffy catches an herb-stealing Amy in her house (sage!) and, realizing that Willow is on the road to ruin and is taking Dawn along for the ride, is forced to seek help from Spike at his crypt. She wakes him by throwing things at him; he gets in a taunt or two before they head out together. Not exactly the healthiest relationship in history. However, as they search for Rack's crackhouse (and can't find it - what's that mean?), I was struck by the quiet rapport between them - their usual banter is abandoned in favor of straight, unpretty talk. Buffy (in her best poker face) tells him that's she's "disgusted with herself," describes their night together as "perverse and degrading," and that if she felt something it was "not love." He takes this strangely in stride ("yeah, me too," he says fondly to her "perverse and degrading" comment), rebutting that it isn't love "yet." She repeats her usual "I want you out of my life" line; he points out that she's already invited him into her life, and that she needs his help in her work, asking if she's willing to put her sister in danger just to spite him (obviously not a real option). Given the touchy topic and the volatile natures of the two characters talking, this is actually a pretty rational discussion (about their relationship, no less - good grief!). Unfortunately, it also keeps them from giving their full attention to the situation at hand, and delays their arrival at the scene of the crime until it's nearly too late. Screaming alerts the pair to the location of a shaky, higher-than-a-kite Willow, who has magically driven a car into an abuttment to try to escape a rampaging demon. (Can I take a moment to complain here - why a car? Couldn't Willow have done a flying spell and crashed a broomstick? Hello, witch?) Dawn does herself proud here - realizing that she's pretty much on her own, she practices every defensive tactic in the book, from crawling under the car to throwing sand in the demon's eyes, but is thrown for distance and lands badly. Finally arriving on the scene, a more-kung-fu-than-usual Buffy beats the demon aside and the hairy beast is finally dispatched by an ebony-eyed Willow, her hands crackling with magic. Buffy and Spike fall into place alongside the injured Dawn like a family unit, leading her away, presumably toward the hospital. Willow grovels that she's sorry, earning herself an angry slap from Dawn. After an exchange of knowing glances, Spike leads Dawn aside to give Buffy a chance to confront her friend. Willow collapses, sobbing into Buffy's arms. "I need help!" she sniffles. Buffy's expression is like stone. Safely wrapped in blankets at home, Willow confesses what drove her to this low ebb. "If you could be plain old Willow, or SuperWillow, who would you be?" She claims that she is giving up magic. "It's not worth it. Not if it messes with the people I love," she says. "I think it's right. To give it up, " Buffy agrees, her voice quiet, eyes faraway. "No matter how good it feels." Show of hands for those who believe she's not exactly thinking about Willow? Thought so. If there's a point to all of this, it's that the entire core group needs to redefine their relationships. All are on the road to adulthood, but they are far from traveling at the same speeds. Xander and Anya will be facing the huge relationship challenge that comes with their impending marriage. Willow has to come to terms with the fact that she is indeed capable of being "the bad guy." And Buffy has to deal with the consequences of her impulsive night of passion... and her first impulse seems to be clearly in the "deny everything" category. In the closing scene, Buffy is cowering in her room, clutching a cross, strings of garlic hanging from her windows. Walking alone in fear, indeed.
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