US President Joyce Summers glared harshly at the much younger Canadian Prime Minister.

"So you have a sizable nuclear arsenal?"

The other woman shrugged.

"Haven't you been listening to a word I've said? Soviet-era Mercs, remnants of the KGB and Securitate, have been attacking us via the Arctic Circle. We need those nukes for the same reason..."

"They come down. Now."

The Prime Minister was incredulous.

"Madame President, normally we're more than content with Norad's protection. My people don't want this responsibility--at all. But this is an unseen war we're fighting, and it doesn't stop just because you proclaim..."

"And the size of your standing army is wholly unacceptable. Disband and disarm them, immediately."

The Prime Minister walked out, as President Summers shouted.

"This is an act of war, Madame Prime Minister! Do not walk out of here--we are prepared to take this over the top!"

Behind her, General Snyder whispered.

"We have to hit now. Those mountain-bases are Radar-shielded. I should know. I'm the one who shielded them."

"But that could lead to a worldwide...."

"Madame President, either we strike hard with our power, or that power is worthless and has no meaning."

Joyce nodded, lifted up the desk top, found the series of confirmation relays.....and firmly ordered the end of the world.

"The tapes all say...I have to be firm in my *No*."

---------------------------------------------------------
In the real world, Joyce woke up, badly shaken, and a little surprised she wasn't screaming.

Bringing Pat over had been a mistake, she now realized, beyond her final fate. Ever since they'd been kids, Pat had always told her what she wanted to hear. Why she had ever listened to that weasel Snyder now made her wince. She'd seen the man's cowardice, first-hand. As for Buffy's friends, they were far too dependent upon her to act rationally or give real comfort, upon her return.

"No, that job belongs to a mother."

She couldn't handle it. A child that for the basics of life, really didn't need her at all. A child who would obey groundings only out of love and respect, not out of even the hint of fear. A child that, even if she were to raise her hand to--not that she ever would--she would have no chance of disciplining. In fact, any such action would be her greatest mistake. Hank had said many such things about handling Buffy. Of course, the fact that he said them all right before filing kind of diluted their impact.

"Why didn't I just tell her?"

That her business back home had been failing anyway. That staying in town after the divorce made her skin crawl. High-schoolers hardly held the patent on catty remarks. That the gym burning was suspicious all around, not just on Buffy's end. But she still couldn't tell her now. Admitting errors that far back would enervate what little position she had left.

"But recent errors? That I can do."

She woke her.

"Mom?"

"Tell me. How much like a bad TV mother did I sound like with that 'If you leave now, don't bother coming back' garbage?"

Her smile helped, and they found some subjects less taboo as a result. Joyce even suggested maybe accompanying Buffy on one of her patrols.

She was after all, still capable of making mistakes.