So, we'll just have to wait for the two-hour UPN opener (no date yet), and pore over the finale for clues about the future. Most of all, we have the summer to marvel over how Whedon crafted this incredible past season, how he took his modern fairytale deeper and deeper into the unknown, plumbed the characters' psyches and devised new rites of passage for this singular, complex heroine and her family of beautiful misfits.

All of the characters learned the true, painful meaning of love this season. Willow and Tara, kissing full on the lips, were the most lovey-dovey lesbians on network TV. But that wasn't true love; true love was Willow spoonfeeding Tara, who had been rendered mentally disabled by a Glory brainsuck, poignantly caring for her "in sickness and in health," promising never, ever to leave her: "She's my girl." Then there was Spike, in the throes of unrequited love for Buffy, acquiring a Buffybot to get randy with. But when he saw how he disgusted the Slayer, he was ashamed and heartsick; he understood what he was really feeling, and he showed his love by protecting Dawn with his life.

Giles, thinking he'd been mortally wounded in battle, uncharacteristically told Buffy how proud she'd made him, how he couldn't ask for more in a ... He didn't finish the sentence, but you were sure he was going to say "daughter." Anya, the vengeance demon cursed to live as a human, finally developed compassion, realized the fragility of human life and, in bed with boyfriend Xander, contemplated the power of her body to make a new life. And finally there was Buffy learning to love Dawn, even though she was a pest, even though she was a burden, even though she brought inconvenience, trouble and pain. Buffy's love for Dawn struck me as more motherly than sisterly, especially in that final scene, when she gave up her own life to protect her.

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Most marvelous of all was how Whedon challenged traditional notions of network storytelling. He distracted us with the death of a minor character (usually, a series can get away with one death per season, max), only to cap that with the death of the major character. The death of Buffy's mom Joyce (natural causes), you'll remember, was played out in a heightened reality, with no background music, with every moment seeming like an eternity. There is magic in this series, but Whedon showed us the limits of magic when Dawn attempted to resurrect Joyce, only to back off at the last second.

Joyce's death was an aching contrast to the cartoon monster deaths the Slayer metes out, and to the show's constantly rising from the dead vampires. Joyce's death, and Buffy's sense of loss, was permanent. But is that permanence, that realistic impossibility of bringing Joyce -- or Buffy -- back, only a diversion? Are we being drained of optimism, in order that we don't see the magic coming when it does? I hope so.

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