Dawn hasn’t been alive very long when you think about it, which is why she sits under an umbrella in Tuscany and watches Buffy oil herself up.

They’re in the backyard of one of Giles’s friends, and Buffy has decided that tanning is the perfect way to spend her morning off.

Dawn sits and she watches, and she thinks that after all they’ve seen, all they’ve been through, Buffy would’ve realized how short life is; skin cancer isn’t a very pretty way to go, she knows, having done the necessary research to point out the pitfalls to her sister.

But Buffy doesn’t listen, insists that slayers have special anti-disease thingies in their bodies, like tiny warriors standing guard; she says it, and Dawn nods, but she remembers a few years back when Buffy’s flu was so bad she had to be hospitalized.

Buffy calls out for Dawn to join her in the sun, and Dawn says, “No way. The whole ‘baked chicken’ look isn’t what I’m going for this year.”

And Buffy pretends to ignore her, but Dawn notices she slips a hat on over her face when she thinks Dawn isn’t looking.

She smiles a little, and settles back in her chair; content to enjoy the day in the shade.